#the potential for fluff is there.. hehe | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sundives · 1 month ago

Text

Magnets ✶ lhs.

Either way, you have me at my wit's end.

Summary: Lee Heeseung, according to your sort of college crushes, falls under the category of the unreachable. One being he's a bandmate and friend of your younger brother, (which automatically means he's off-limits), and two, he's popular, intelligent, and every girl's dream guy, which still validates your sort even if we cross out the first reason. And yet, a small part of you wondered, if Lee Heeseung can be just at an arm's length.

And somewhere, in the middle of your junior year, a mystic force somehow pulled you and Heeseung together. A push and pull of feelings that had you wondering if he’s really unreachable. (or not, you just don’t want to assume really.)

✰ Song Inspiration: Magnets by Niki, Sway covered by Beabadoobee (original by Bic Runga), Take A Chance With Me by Niki

✰ Word Count: 25.6k

✰ Tags: Tooth-rotting fluff, best friend’s older sister, kinda realization of feelings, jealousy, drunken confessions ig, a bit of angst, smut! Yang Jungwon as reader’s younger brother, band au! College settings, classmates! Bar parties, mentions of alcohol. Heeseung is such a natural flirt (and is an epitome of mixed signals.) He is also in a band, mentions Enhypen members, mentions of kpop idols, Yunah and Karina as your best friends. Jungwon calls reader “noona.” He’s also so protective that he can be an asshole sometimes. Reader is kinda delusional but in denial but I get her. Heeseung has a high-alcohol tolerance for the sake of the plot. Switch of POV at some point of the story.

✰ CW: Smut! Plot with little porn, p in v sex, unprotected sex lmao (pls don’t) drunk sex, creampie, oral (f and m receiving), aggressive making out, mentions of blood, fingering, squirting, light spanking, multiple orgasms, names (pretty, baby), grinding, cowgirl, aftercare!!! Multiple smut scenes because I’m practicing for my next fic but still shitty. Hope you enjoy though.

✰ Asul’s note: It’s Heeseung’s story this time! Third installment of Arcanum series. I also kinda made Enha members same-aged in this series, (hyung line are juniors while maknae line are sophomores, and idk why I am telling y’all this now lmao.) This one is lighter compared to my other stories hehe. Some talks about “The Virgin Suicides” because I love that novel sm and I’m going to nerd the hell out of it.

And kinda spoiler? But the self-composed song of Arcanum is actually this song! (give love to the og singer pls) I just remembered Heeseung covered this during Fate Concert in New Clark City (and he did posted a short cover of it WTF.) The song and lyrics matched the story that’s why I included it here. Anyways, enjoy this not proofread, tooth-rotting story.

You can check the other member's stories here: Jay | Sunghoon

✰ Taglist: @kiikiisblog @chuuyaobsessed @k1ttyjwon @bussolares @rosepetals09 @m1kkso @dearestdreamies @dreamiestay @cloud-lyy @iamliacamila @heeseungsgf26 @dulcetnostalgia

According to your list, you have two types of crushes.

The first ones are the reachables. Meaning, your crushes that you can potentially date or maybe pull if you’re lucky.

The first one being Jake Sim, who’s an orgmate of yours. You two only started as a staff for the Student Aid Organization during your first years in college, assisting students with their grievances. It wasn’t until Jake became the vice president of the said organization while you became his executive assistant, wherein you two became much closer. Jake was the ideal boyfriend. He was smart, good-looking, and fun to be with. You might have a chance with him if he reciprocates your small crush on him.

The other one is Lee Chanyoung, a sophomore who is the rookie of Decelis University’s swimming team. He’s tall, handsome, but was a shy kid that you interviewed back when you were part of Decelis Publications. You remembered flustering him with your compliments, making the poor kid blush hard. You don’t mind dating him if only your interaction with him becomes frequent, but for now, he’s just an eye candy crush.

Then, there are the unreachable ones. Your crushes who will forever remain in the crush-zone. Those crushes of yours that you had 0.0001% chance to date with, and so what? It’s just a crush, a small admiration to them.

Like Kang Taehyun. The most popular student in your department. He just happens to be the president of the Education Department’s student council. He holds a good reputation among his peers. Friendly and has a good aura around him. You had a few interactions with him and the rumors about his kindness exceeded you. Despite that, he remains (and will remain) unreachable due to the fact that he has a girlfriend. — you don’t want to ruin a relationship of course.

Then, there’s Lee Heeseung. The one that you considered as the most unreachable crush of yours.

There’s not enough words to describe Lee Heeseung, but he was everything. That man is everyone’s dream guy. Considering that he’s been a classmate of yours since freshman year, it’s undeniable that he’s an intelligent student. Considered as one of your department’s top students.

Aside from that, he’s like Decelis University’s Troy Bolton. Heeseung lives a double life of being part of your department’s basketball team and playing in a band. While Decelis’ official basketball team tries hard to recruit him, Heeseung refuses to join because he knows that he’ll have to dedicate every minute of his time for it. Meaning it has to be his top priority and nothing else.

And everyone knows why. Heeseung can’t leave his band. How can he when he’s the one who formed the band and is basically the center of it? Lee Heeseung just happens to be the vocalist and guitarist of the band Arcanum, a university band that he formed along with some other students, that includes your younger brother — which leads you to another reason why he’s unreachable.

Your younger brother, Yang Jungwon was Arcanum’s drummer. His passion in music had convinced him to join the band, befriending his seniors and forming a bond with them through making music.

That’s when you found yourself as the older sister who comes home to her house that served as a band practice for Arcanum. Perks of living in a house just a few blocks near the university.

Heeseung being Jungwon’s friend automatically meant he was off-limits since both you and Jungwon found it weird dating his friends, (in vice versa, so does the thought of Jungwon dating your friends.) Even though you and Heeseung were classmates first, and somewhere there, you had a crush on Heeseung first before he became friends with Jungwon, you decided that he’s automatically off-limits the moment Arcanum was formed.

Still, in your mind, even if Heeseung wasn’t Jungwon’s friend, he is still unreachable.

Heeseung’s aura and charisma can be seen from the way he controls the stage up to how he presents himself in court and classroom. He’s proud of it, and can be defined untouchable like the rest of his bandmates.

He’s like a star that is far from your reach. Hundreds of girls would die to be his girlfriend. There’s not a day where he receives confessions. But Heeseung would just laugh it off, rejecting it with a kind tone and apologies, and everyone knows why: Lee Heeseung isn’t looking for a relationship at the moment, which crushes every girl’s dream of becoming his.

And that sort of includes you, but you know that you’re far from becoming Heeseung’s girlfriend. There were prettier, curvier, and even smarter girls who got rejected by Heeseung. That’s why you know it’ll never cross his mind to even spare a glance at you — his friend’s older sister.

You’re decent, average grades, and probably being an independent sister who looks after her younger brother is the only thing that you can brag about. Still, that doesn’t make you stand out of the crowd. That’s why you’re long convinced that Heeseung wouldn’t even notice you, hence making him more unreachable.

Yet, there has always been a small part inside you, wondering — probably yearning, if Heeseung can still be reachable for you.

Second semesters are always hell. For some reason, you feel like there’s a curse in the second semester because the course subjects always feel heavy and draining as if it’s challenging you to give up before the academic year ends.

“This project will take about 60% of your midterm grades, so I want everyone to be crucial in this paper,” and to make it worse, you choose an elective that demands more than your major subjects. A straight thin line forming on your lips as you jotted down the instructions that’s currently flashed on the tv screen.

“You can choose your own partner in this project, but you can also opt to do it solo, just kindly inform the class beadle and have her send me the list by the end of the day, any questions?” You stared at your notes. Although the paper analysis will be heavy for you, you’ll rather do it solo than do it with someone who’ll probably slack off and leave you to do all the work.

The professor dismissed the class. Everyone was scurrying on their desk, eager for lunch while you took your time putting down your things inside your bag, even grabbing your phone to check any message from your friends that you didn’t notice the figure approaching you.

“Y/n hey,” you felt someone tapping you back and as you turned around, you saw Heeseung standing in front of you. You only stared at him and his boyish smile while his hands were in his slack’s pockets. His backpack swinging on his right arm while he had his hairstyle like he just messily brushed it using his hand and yet, it doesn’t look like a mess.

God, you always forgot how handsome Heeseung was up close, but that's not what you had in your mind right now.

“Hi,” you said, barely audible. Confusion got into you since this is the first time Heeseung approached you.

“Can we be partners for the project?” he asked, and it took you a minute to process what he just said.

“Why?” you immediately blurted out, hopefully it didn’t come as offensive as you intended it to be. Just surprised.

“Well, you’re the only one I’m kinda close with here,” Heeseung pointed out, and that made you confused. “And you’re good at this kind of project.”

Now the second sentence made sense. “Lee Heeseung, I’m not going to carry your ass in this project.”

Heeseung’s eyes widened, “wait, that’s not what I meant. What I’m trying to say is that I trust you not to give us low grades, we’ll work together of course.��

You only blinked. Together. For the years you and Heeseung had been classmates, this is probably the first time you and Heeseung become partners for a project. Sometimes, you two do end up in a group but this one’s different. It’s just going to be the two of you. Alone. And the fact that he asked you to be his partner had your heart going crazy.

“You can’t do it alone? Like, genuinely?” you asked once again.

Heeseung looks away embarrassed, “have you seen me reading a whole novel? I’ll doze off before I can go to the second page. Plus I think two heads are better than one.”

You looked away. A part of you is panicking inside. Screaming “Emergency!” the more you interact with him, the more you’re going to be convinced that he’s reachable. But another part of you is screaming, “go get that bag!” this is your chance! You shouldn’t turn it down.

“Fine. This one’s a month-long project, the deadline is during the examination period but I prefer passing it a week before our exam so that I can focus on my other subjects,” you explained. “Is that okay with you?”

In the end, your crush on him is bigger than your rationality. Brain short-circuiting and just convincing yourself that this is a good idea.

“All good for me — oh right, we have a band practice in your house later after class, we can meet up there so that we can choose what novel we are going to analyse and distribute the task, how’s that sounds?” he suggested.

See this is why Heeseung is such a dream guy. He knows how to balance his academics, even with the hectic basketball practice and band practice, he can still find time to prioritise his studies and even acing it out.

You hate that he’s so admirable yet out of your reach, and even though he’s standing in front of you, asking you to be his project partner, you can still feel the barrier between the two of you.

“Fine, but I might go home a bit late, I have dinner with my friends.” that was the only thing that you said before grabbing your bag. “Is there anything else that you need?”

“Nothing else, I got the instructions on my notes too. So, see you later?” Heeseung smiles.

“See you later Heeseung,” you only said, trying your best to act nonchalantly even though your heart’s going to explode any minute.

“Oh right, eat well! Bye!” and with that, Heeseung leaves you alone there standing, caught-off guard with his words.

What the actual fuck. You cursed internally. His words loop in your mind until you’ve met with your friends.

“Eat well!? Girl! You should eat a lot, not spend your lunch with iced coffee!” your best friend Karina, shrieks.

The three of you are at some small coffee shop outside Decelis for lunch. Of course, you’ll have to report your interaction with Heeseung to your friends, who were almost celebrating because of it.

“If he says that to you, then he should’ve given you money to buy your lunch so that you’ll eat well,” Yunah added, almost laughing.

“Stop it guys, you two are being too loud,” you said in defeat, but the faint blush on your cheeks gives off the fact that you were flustered. “Okay fine, I’ll buy a sandwich and fries.”

“Oh Heeseung’s impact~ I mean if my crush told me that, I’ll buy myself food too,” Karina teases.

You could only roll your eyes in annoyance. Standing up from your seat to buy some food for you — and not because Heeseung told you to eat well, but because you know that iced coffee wouldn’t suffice.

You returned to your table with a tray of selected savory breads instead. Karina and Yunah are still eyeing you teasingly, which makes you cautious all of the sudden.

“Have you ever thought about why he approached you to become his partner for the project?” Yunah asked.

“He did say I’m the only one he’s closed with in our section,” you explained.

“Close? Since when are you guys close? He’s much closer to Jungwon than you,” Karina rebutted.

Karina wasn’t lying. You and Heeseung aren't close. He’s the only one you interacted the least out of Arcanum. And whenever you think about it, it’s probably because your romantic crush on him makes him intimidating to you.

“Okay? Well at least we know each other?” you weren’t sure why Heeseung did approach you, and you were holding yourself to not jump into any other conclusions. “It’s just a project guys, it’s not like he’s asking me out on a date.”

“See, what if that project of yours will lead to that conclusion —”

“You guys got to stop feeding into my delusions, I’m still not going to date him, he’s Jungwon’s friend,”

“And if he doesn’t?” Karina asked.

“I told you guys this about a hundred times, Heeseung’s not looking for a relationship at the moment, means he’s not serious about commitments, while I prefer committed relationship,” you explained further.

“Okay and? You might be the girl that’ll make him commit,” Yunah added.

“Guys oh my god, stop enabling me! You two are just making it worse!” you frustratedly laughed, making the two of them laugh.

“But I’m still suspicious about Heeseung, you need to update us girl!” Karina eagerly said. “My bet is that Heeseung does have other intentions on approaching you,”

“This is nothing guys, I swear.” you casually said to them, even though deep inside you wanted to trust your friends’ words. Because, what if really? There’s a reason why Heeseung approached you all of the sudden?

The remaining afternoon classes went on. Reports, lessons, and recitations were done with ease even though you almost dozed off in one subject. The afternoon slowly darkens, with the orange sky welcoming you as you step outside your department building.

You’ve met up with Karina and Yunah to have early dinner at a small local eatery outside Decelis University. The sun had completely set but the three of you remained at the eatery, spending a few hours gossiping and talking shit about your classmates. Later then, you three decided to leave the place and opt for frozen yoghurt as dessert.

Yunah bid goodbye first, since her dormitory is just nearby the yoghurt place. While you and Karina walked towards the bus stop since she lives an hour away from Decelis. Conversations never stop until your friend’s bus arrives. You hugged her goodbye and as you watched the bus leave, that was your cue to go home.

Your home, the house that you grew up in, is located just a few blocks away from Decelis. Your parents were always away due to their job, rarely home only during important events like holidays or graduations, that’s why you’ve grown accustomed to its silence. Back when you were kids, you had servants attending you but now that you and Jungwon are old enough, it has always been the two of you now, learning independence while your parents aren’t around.

As you reached the front door of your house, you could already hear the faint sounds of their instruments, you glanced at your watch and noticed that it’s already seven-thirty in the evening, which means that they had started practice an hour ago. They’ll finish it around nine but that doesn’t mean they’ll be going home by that time. Sometimes they would play games or have snacks, either way, you’re used to it.

You open the door quietly enough to not disturb them, removing your shoes and placing it on the racks near the doorway before you make your entrance.

They continued practicing but all eyes darted on you, making you walk faster. A few nods and soft “hi” and “hello” were exchanged as you passed by them. It has become a usual scenario wherever you go home by the time they’re practicing, you’ll greet them out of decency.

You’re careful not to disturb them in their practice, that’s why you’re always in your room whenever they’re practicing. They do sometimes ask you to join them for dinner, which you’ll gladly do for free food. Usually, you’ll just sit there and listen to their conversation, but most of the time, they do include you in their talk. Jay and Sunghoon, being the most talkative, made you comfortable around them.

“Noona, we have pizzas on the dining table!” Jungwon shouted, not even stopping from playing the drums.

“I’m already full! I’ll be in my room!” you shouted before going upstairs towards your room. It wasn’t that soundproof but it was muffled enough for you not to be annoyed by the noise.

You took a short shower before changing into a fitted shirt and pajamas, wearing a zipped jacket in addition because you were feeling cold that night. As you sat on the edge of your bed, your mind was racing all of the sudden, remembering that Heeseung was supposed to meet you tonight for the project.

Coincidentally, a knock on the door startled you, and as you opened it, Jungwon was standing in front of you.

“Heeseung hyung is looking for you,” he said, and you can see the weird look he was giving you. Like a cat judging your whole existence.

“Did he tell you why?” you asked him.

“He said something about a project, you two were partners,” noticing the way Jungwon cringed when he said “partners.”

“Okay, just a minute,” you grabbed your iPad and phone before going out. Patting your brother’s shoulder before you push him to start walking. You two went downstairs where the boys are on the couch, drinking some colas and eating the cold pizza.

“Hi y/n, want some pizza?” Sunghoon offered as soon as you’re near them, but you only gave him a smile.

“Thanks still full,” you said as you approached Heeseung who immediately darted his attention to you.

“Should we start now?” he asked, round eyes staring at you. “I’m still eating.”

“Okay fine, why call me now then?” you crossed your arms.

He raised the bitten pizza before giving you a smile. “Want some?”

His bandmates looked at him like they were judging his whole existence. While you only stared at him for a second before a “Huh?” escapes your lips, immediately brushing it off with a soft laugh.

“I already told you guys, I’m still full.” you repeated. “I’ll be outside by the patio, just call me if we can start the project.”

Heeseung watched as you went towards the hallway where the backdoor of the patio is located, his stare went for long until he felt a crumpled tissue land on his face.

“The fuck was that?” Jungwon asked in a serious tone.

“I’m just offering her some food,” Heeseung shrugs. “You didn’t call out Sunghoon, he’s the first one to offer.”

“Well, if you had known that I offered her first, you wouldn’t have offered either,” Sunghoon rebutted.

“Maybe she’ll eat it if I’m the one who offered her food.” The vocalist said so casually that it made his bandmates laugh.

“Wow, that’s rich coming from you,” Jay taunted. “You guys aren’t even that close.”

“Yeah, that’s why it’s okay if I offer her pizza, we’re close,” Sunghoon added, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“Stop talking about my sister like I’m not here,” the youngest groans. “Really, hyungs, not only you, Heeseung hyung. Seriously —”

“Don’t date your sister, we know Jungwon, that’s like the first thing you said during our first practice in your house,” Jay answered.

“And you have nothing to worry about? I’m literally engaged while Jay’s still yearning for that mystery girl of his.” Sunghoon stated the obvious.

“Okay maybe you can get worried about Heeseung,” Jay grinned.

Heeseung immediately sat up from his seat, an awkward chuckle leaving his lips. “You don’t have to worry about me too, I am not looking for a relationship you know that.”

“Sure Hee, whatever floats your boat,” Jay mocks.

“Yeah sure, now if you excuse me, I’ll be going to the patio because y/n and I are going to discuss our project which is a novel analysis, and you have nothing to worry about Jungwon,” Heeseung explains, saluting mockingly to Jungwon who could only do nothing but watch his friend go towards the hallway where the backdoor was.

“Not going to stop him?” Sunghoon teased.

“I don’t want to be that annoying brother who’s too protective,” Jungwon replied, taking a sip on his drinks.

Jay lets out a sarcastic laughter. “You didn’t just fucking said that right now.”

Meanwhile, you're sitting peacefully on the long couch of your patio. Reviewing the instructions given by your professor when you heard the metal door creaking. Startled, you glanced at it and saw Heeseung leaning against the doorframe.

“So, our project?” he started, approaching you as he sat on the other chair, immediately, you fixed your position, sitting legs criss-cross as you tried to act as normal as possible even though your heart was racing, mind panicking internally.

You couldn’t even look at him for so long that you immediately scrolled through your iPad, trying to act serious even though you're palpitating inside. Is it the iced coffee you had for lunch or just the thought that Heeseung’s sitting near you? You don’t know but it’s not helping at all.

“Right, any suggestions on the novel we will be choosing? Prof. Jeon told us we can choose any novel that we wanted as long as we were able to make a good argument about why we chose it,” you explained, still eyeing your iPad where your notes were.

“Hmm good question, you choose our novel, I don’t even know what’s good or not,” Heeseung suggested.

That’s when you only look at him, “Heeseung, I told you I’m not going to carry you in this project.”

A nervous chuckle escaped his lips. “No, that’s not what I meant! You suggest a novel and I’m going to read it, even buy it for our project’s sake, and try my best to understand it. I’m just really not that great at this type of project so please help me with this one.”

You only blinked. Staring at him who’s pleading at you, which is funny because you never expect Heeseung — one of your department’s top students, to be failing in some areas.

“Okay but why did you even choose modern literature as an elective?” you asked suddenly confused.

“Ran out of slots in analytical economics.” Heeseung casually said. “Come on, don’t leave me with this one y/n, I can’t fail this elective.”

“I’m not, don't worry,” you laughed. “I’m just surprised that you’re not good at this one.”

Heeseung chuckles because of your statement. “What? What makes you think I excel in everything?”

You stopped for a second, “I mean — you’re one of our top students, Heeseung, that’s why.”

“Hey, I’m not that smart, I just study hard,” Heeseung nonchalantly said. “Going back to our topic, how about we go with your favorite novel?”

“Okay, no need to flaunt it,” you sarcastically remarked. “My favorite novel? It’s The Virgin Suicides.”

“Does this involve actions and stuff?”

You laugh at his words. “You really think a novel titled ‘The Virgin Suicides’ involves actions and stuff?”

“I’m just kidding! Watch the movie and sure, let’s go with that one.”

A chuckle of disbelief escapes your lips, “you’ve watched the movie?”

“Hey, it’s a Sofia Coppola movie.” Heeseung pointed out.

“So you’re a cinephile of sorts? Is your favorite movie American Psycho or some 1980s Korean independent film that has low budget but great cinematography?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes I do love watching movies but no, my favorite movie is Toy Story 3.”

Another laughter escapes your mouth, hearing Heeseung’s laughter made you forget the reason why you two were at that patio. You don’t know whether to believe his words or not, but hearing his soft laughter just made the butterflies in your stomach flutter so hard that you’re trying your best to conceal the fleeting feeling.

With the cold breeze of the summer night, along the thousands of stars in the night sky, made the atmosphere lighter. Brighter along with the soft yellow lights around your patio. Heeseung’s smile never left as he stared at you, which made your smile turn into a thin line.

So, this is what talking to your ultimate crush feels like. You thought. And for a moment, your heart stopped, realizing that this is too good to be true — making you snap from reality. That’s why you diverted back to the reason why you and Heeseung are talking in the first place.

Going back to your meeting, you two equally divided the parts. The project seems to be lighter now that your task has been divided. Heeseung suggested that you two should brainstorm after finishing the novel, which you mindlessly nodded, jotting down the deadlines you two made so that you can finish the project in no time.

“You know it’ll be interesting if we compare the movie adaptation to the novel,” Heeseung suggested as the two of you decided to finish the meeting. Going inside your house, but stopping midway in the hallway.

“You’re really dedicating your time for this project huh?” you teased. “I mean I don’t mind at all.”

“Oh great! We should watch it together, what do you think?”

“What —” you were caught-off guard. Did Heeseung just ask you to watch it together with him?

You became quiet for a moment. Recalling your friend’s words — how Heeseung has other intentions on why he approached you for the project. Is this the reason? You’ve got to be kidding because why would Heeseung ask you to watch The Virgin Suicides with him? For a project that’s only a novel analysis? There’s got to be another reason why.

But from the moment you were too quiet, too deep in your thoughts, a loud clearing of the throat snapped you out. You glanced and saw Jungwon raising an eyebrow at the two of you.

“Jay hyung and Sunghoon hyung had left a while ago,” Jungwon stated. “They said you’re taking your time with y/n.”

“Ah shit, now I have to commute back home,” Heeseung groans. “Sorry Won, we just want to make sure our project’s perfect and organized.”

Jungwon only shrugs before glancing at you — that’s when you remembered.

“I’m okay with it, let’s just do it after finishing the novel,” you answered Heeseung. “I think that concludes everything about our project.”

“Yeah sure, well thanks for your time y/n. I have to go now before Jungwon kicks me out,” Heeseung laughs.

“I really am about to,” Jungwon said with a glare.

Heeseung gives you a small smile and wave before walking towards Jungwon who only followed his friend, leaving you standing there, heart bursting out any moment.

You could only curse internally. You didn’t just fucking spent a few hours with your ultimate crush alone in your patio. God, your preconceived notion of him being everyone’s dream guy with all the brains and charisma is the tip of the iceberg. He just happens to be pathetic in some areas but at the same time, still knows the littlest details in niche topics. You want to curse the gods because why would they create such an ideal man but make him unreachable for you.

You could only stomp your feet out of frustration before calming yourself for a minute. Taking deep breaths, you decided to call it night, leaving the hallway and going upstairs when midway, your younger brother called you, watching him climb the stairs before standing next to you.

“So, you and Heeseung hyung —”

“Are partners for our elective project, nothing more, nothing less,” you replied immediately. “It’s normal Won, we’re classmates remember.”

“Just reminding you noona, about our agreement,” Jungwon heaves out a sigh. “Don’t want you to fall for Heeseung hyung, he kinda tends to give girls mixed signals.”

“Funny that you’re saying that when he’s a friend of yours,” you pointed out.

“He knows it himself too,” Jungwon shrugs.

“Don’t worry about it Won, I don’t think Heeseung finds me attractive though.” you answered, thinking that Arcanum sees you as ‘Jungwon’s older sister.’

“Hey! You’re pretty, what on earth are you talking about?” your younger brother immediately replied, seeing him all worked-up, you could only laugh as you pat his shoulders.

“You’re just saying that because we’re siblings,” you teased. “You don’t have to worry about anything Won, this is just a project. Okay, I’m kinda tired now, so let’s just go to sleep.”

The two of you went upstairs together, saying goodnight to each other before proceeding to go to each other’s room. The beaming silence makes you lost in your thoughts. You made your way towards your bed and as you lay down there, clutching on your iPad, the smile on your face never faded, heck it even grew wider at the thought that you have reasons to grow closer with Heeseung.

Of course, it’s still under the disguise of the fact that you two were project partners, but it’s a way to show to you that Heeseung is, somehow, reachable.

The next few weeks were nothing but a fast forward in your life.

You continue going on with your routine, with one sudden turn — the novel rests idly inside your bag. Rereading it for the project, and as you turn every page you wonder about your partner.

It halted to you that everything was actually for project purposes. You and Heeseung remained the same. The barrier between the two of you going back to the same height and him returning to your unreachable category — and you were okay with it, no more heart burns and an imaginative mind clouding your delusional self.

Of course, Heeseung continued coming over to your place. Their band practices went normal where you would just greet them with short conversations before you lock yourself in your room. No more private conversations and such, you can tell that Jungwon felt at ease, thinking what you and Heeseung had is just some academic collaboration.

But by the end of the week, you were surprised when Heeseung approached you.

“I’m like halfway through the novel and there’s a lot of scenes that were so important but weren't included in the film, we need to brainstorm that.” Heeseung told you.

“I thought you'd be the type to doze off before proceeding to the next page?” you teased.

“Well I need to lock in because I’m required to read it, but it's an interesting novel though,” he replied.

And just when you thought you'd be at peace. Heeseung asked you for a short brainstorming. “Alright, you choose when and what time since you’re the busy one here.”

“I’m thinking Saturday, it’s my free day. I literally just sleep and play the whole day, so I wouldn’t mind spending my free day with you.”

You tried your best to ignore his words. Cursing him internally because why does he always catch you off guard? You let out an awkward chuckle before glancing at him. “Okay, Saturday — wait, this Saturday right?”

Heeseung only nods. “Cool — uhm, what time and where?”

“Wait, how about we exchange numbers? So that we can contact each other.”

Woah. This is going to be the end of you. Lee Heeseung asking for your number? Now that’s a reach. You mindlessly nod, letting out a squeaky “sure” before grabbing your phone for him to type his number — same goes with him on your phone.

“There, I even put my photo there too,” Heeseung laughs, giving you back your phone.

“You’re fast, I would’ve put a meme photo on your contact list.” you only replied as you gave him back his phone. You glanced at his contact number wherein his selfie is already plastered on his contact photo. You can tell that he just took the photo just now and why the hell does he know his angle? Now you’re just frustrated because he’s too good with everything he does.

“You didn’t put a photo of yours,” Heeseung said, looking at the dull contact. “Come on, I’ll take a picture of you.”

And as if his words were like a spell, you only smiled in front of him as you held out a small peace sign. Heeseung smiles as he captures the photo, saving it as your contact photo.

“Cute, now, we match,” Heeseung flaunts his contact photo on you, which only made you chuckle. Trying so hard not to give his words meaning.

“Just tell me the details Heeseung, see you on Saturday,” you told him. “I have to go now, my friends are waiting for me.”

“See you! Stay safe!” he said, waving lightly as you left.

You wanted to scream. Really, you’re internally screaming. You need a pillow where you can muffle your screams but the only thing you could do is cover your face with your hands as you scream. Both Karina and Yunah looked at you teasingly as you dropped on your knees inside Yunah’s dorm room.

“No, why would he do that!? Why!?” you whined, as you dropped dead on the floor.

“See I told you he has intentions,” Karina pointed out.

“No! He can’t! Maybe he’s just nice —”

“Girl, are you serious? He said, and I quote “I don’t mind spending my free day with you.” and you’re going to conclude that he’s just nice!?” Yunah frustratedly shouted.

“Let’s break it down y/n. First, he asked you to meet him on a Saturday, his supposed free day but he doesn’t mind spending it with you. Then, he asked for your number, and he fucking took a photo of you! And what did he say afterwards? You two match? What the actual fuck because the last straw was him telling you “stay safe!” if that doesn’t conclude anything other than he’s interested in you, then I don’t know why you’re so in denial about it.” Karina summarized.

You could only let out a deep sigh. Karina had summarized EVERY hint that Heeseung may be into you, not until you remember — “But Jungwon said he’s a mixed signal type of guy, I just don’t want to jump into conclusions guys,” you immediately rebutted.

Both Yunah and Karina looked at you, a furrow of eyebrows and forehead creased before a disappointed “ahhh” escaped their lips.

“I mean, have you seen the guy? He has a natural flirty attitude! So the tendency is girls will really think that he’s interested in them — even me! But I don’t want to assume anymore but ugh!” that’s when you grabbed Yunah’s plushie and smashed your face right into it. Letting out a muffled scream for five seconds before looking at your friends once again with a pitied look.

“We get it, your long-time crush, who you always say is unreachable suddenly became reachable midway junior year, your crash-out is valid girl,” Yunah assured. “But don’t forget to address the other problem, he’s Jungwon’s friend.”

“Fuck, I forgot that one,” you only let out a breathy laugh. “Okay, I’m calmed now. This is just a crash out, just a small vent because Heeseung approached me and asked for my number. This is nothing guys! It’s totally nothing.”

“If he really is a mixed-signal giver, then just be careful y/n, those are the worst type of guys,” Karina huffs.

“I know, just don’t enable me anymore! You guys are at fault in this one too,” you pointed, making your best friends laugh.

When Saturday arrived, you and Heeseung agreed to meet at a small coffee shop near Decelis after lunch.

By the time you arrived at the coffee shop, you quickly noticed Heeseung near a corner. He’s reading the novel, even wearing glasses that you assumed were fake yet, it suits his visual. You only smile before walking towards him, who immediately felt your presence.

“Hi” he greets, smiling as you sit in front of him.

“Hi, have you ordered coffee?” you asked.

“I did, how about you?” he asked you back.

“Maybe later, since I’m still full from lunch,” you simply said. “Should we start our brainstorming or do you want to read more pages?”

Heeseung softly chuckles, closing the book as he looks at you. “No wonder this is your favorite novel, it’s a good novel to be honest.”

A skip in your heart was all you felt when he said those words. Smiling, you said, “really?” as Heeseung continued explaining to you why he liked the novel. You only sat there, watching Heeseung ramble about the novel — your favorite novel to be exact.

You know that this is only for academic purposes but hearing Heeseung talk about “The Virgin Suicides” tugs your heart with joy. It’s your favorite novel! It felt like he was getting to know you through your favorite stuff.

“How about you? Don’t tell me, you’re not reading it anymore because you’ve read it?” Heeseung suddenly blurted out, making you laugh softly before grabbing your bag, revealing your old copy which was full of anecdotes and bookmarks.

“Woah, that’s impressive,” he said, grabbing your copy and skimming through it.

“I have notes and have bookmarked my favorite quote and everything, but it’s not bad to reread it again in case I missed something,” you simply shrugged.

“Glad I chose you as my partner in this project,” Heeseung casually said and you only stared at him for a second before taking a sip on your coffee.

“Consider yourself lucky,” you stated, trying hard to conceal your flusteredness.

As Heeseung returned you the book, your phone suddenly started ringing. You immediately grabbed it from your bag, and saw that it was Jungwon who’s calling.

Heeseung watched as your soft expression turned into a different one in a span of your call with Jungwon, your tone rising higher than before like you were lecturing your younger brother. He only smiled as you rolled your eyes along with your frown.

“You owe me Jungwon,” you told your brother before ending up the call.

“You need to go now?” Heeseung asked.

“No, but maybe later. Jungwon and I were supposed to do groceries but he’s busy he told me, he’s going to cram a whole lesson for their quiz, and you know how he is when he’s too focused on reviewing,” you explained to Heeseung. “Now I have to go to the store alone —”

“I can come with you,” Heeseung volunteered.

“What? No, it’s okay Hee, I’ll just book a car on the way home —”

“Still, it’s heavy for you to carry it, come on, I don’t mind,” he insisted.

“You might end up going home late,” you rebutted, praying internally that he’d take the hint.

“And I don’t mind at all,” Heeseung stands up from his seat, and that’s when you realise that you’re doomed. “Come on now, we managed to make progress with our project. Let’s go get those groceries.”

The supermarket is just a bus stop away from Decelis. Once you two entered the busy store, Heeseung automatically pulled a cart which made you stop, glancing at him who only gave you a smile.

“Go on, I’ll just follow you behind,” Heeseung gestured and you only nod, going straight for the nearest aisle.

You’re not going to give meaning to everything. You chanted internally. It’s just Heeseung accompanying you to go on your weekly groceries run, because your brother ditched you. He’s just there to accompany you. Nothing more, nothing less.

But curse the movies and novels because you know groceries. They’re sweet and cute, and have a touch of domesticity in it. Catering to each other’s references, choosing what kind of cereal you two will buy or something.

The thought of you doing groceries with Heeseung had your imagination go so creative that you almost bumped to the fruit stand. If it wasn’t Heeseung who pulled you immediately, you would’ve knocked down the pyramid of oranges.

“Careful there,” Heeseung laughs. “Going to buy some fruits?”

“Maybe some bananas since Jungwon likes snacking on them — oh, strawberries too.” you awkwardly walked away from his touch and proceeded to the selection of fruits, eyeing on the fresh looking ones.

Heeseung could only stare at you as your brows furrowed, grabbing every container, staring at it for every second before moving on to another. It wasn’t until you picked the best and proceeded to the other section.

He follows you quietly. Watching you grab some products as the cart started to become halfway full, and you two haven’t gone to the other sections. Heeseung silently observes you as you mumble some words like how you’ll probably cook the chicken by Thursday, or you need this ingredient.

Now, he understands why Jungwon still depends on you even though their drummer tends to have a matured streak. His older sister is reliable, and he thinks that that’s admirable of you.

“You’re taking these groceries seriously,” Heeseung blurted out, snapping your thoughts. That’s when you realized that you spent a few minutes walking around and picking up products while Heeseung only followed you behind, pushing the cart for you.

“Sorry, I’m not really fun to be with, especially in a grocery store,” you apologetically replied.

“It’s not like that, but you look cute to look at,” Heeseung pointed out. “You’re pouting too much just staring at what kind of tofu are you going to buy.”

A faint blush rushed over your cheeks, you awkwardly laughed as you looked away from him. “Just a habit — come on now, I know you’re dying to go to the snacks section.”

As the two of you went through the snacks section, you skimmed around the aisles of chips, grabbing your favorite along with Jungwon’s. As you returned to Heeseung, you noticed how he sneaked in some snacks for him, while he innocently looked away.

You only smiled as you placed down the chips, “fine, I’ll buy it for you Heeseung.”

“Wait, I’m going to pay you with cash,” Heeseung argued, grabbing his wallet when you stopped him.

“A compensation for accompanying me,” you rebutted. “So that you have your own chips in our house.”

Heeseung only has an embarrassed look on his face as he grabs another one. “Fine, but I’ll add another one.”

You two were able to finish the groceries after a half an hour, paying it with the credit card your parents left. Now, the two of you are by the small food court beside the supermarket, buying some snacks for the two of you.

“This is nice,” Heeseung said. The bowl of instant ramen is warm in front of him as he blows off some steam before eating it.

“You’re much more patient than Jungwon,” you replied, taking a small bite on the fish cake. “I always wanted to try the snacks here, but Jungwon would prefer going home after.”

“Then next time you go buy your groceries, text me so I can accompany you again,” Heeseung suggested.

“You’re just here for the free snacks.” you jokingly said.

“That, and I don’t mind accompanying you.” Heeseung rebutted. “Something about doing groceries feels nice, not gonna lie.”

Who would’ve thought? Lee Heeseung doesn’t mind doing groceries with you? The thought sounds nice — sweet if you’re being exaggerated. Heeseung helped in placing the products inside the box, even carrying the box so that you wouldn’t lift a finger. But you know that this is just a one time thing. Jungwon will kill both of you if he discovers that Heeseung accompanied you to do groceries.

A few days had passed and your progress in the project was halfway done. Just a little smoothing on the analysis and adaptation comparison (which wasn't from the instructions but you and Heeseung put it in in hopes of gaining additional points.), and you can pass the project even earlier than you two had scheduled.

Heeseung’s analysis and reports were on spot. No need for you to revise since it was clear and concise, and you’re glad that you agreed to become his partner. You weren’t stressed throughout the paper, making you admire Heeseung for his dedication in the project.

Now, you’re sitting on your couch, biting on your nails as you remember that today was the day that you’re half-anticipating, half-dreading for — your movie screening with Heeseung.

Considering that you’re just doing it in the abode of your home, and considering that you two are just project partners who insisted on watching the movie together, you call it a movie screening rather than a date. (and you consider that your younger brother might join in case something happens between you and Heeseung — which, your very imaginative mind shouldn’t have clouded your thoughts but anyway.)

A ring on the doorbell startled you, almost tripping as you tried to put on your house slippers. As you opened the door, there stood Heeseung in his glory, wearing his department jacket with a fitted sleeveless shirt underneath that hugged his leaned body. Not to mention, those baggy denim pants and cool sneakers.

Your first thought is why he’s overdressed for a movie screening but fucking hell, he’s so handsome that your mind short-circuited especially when he’s holding a helmet. Did he just drive all the way here using his motorbike? God forbids Lee Heeseung to be ten times more attractive than what you’ve thought.

“Come in,” you said in a quiet yet high-pitched tone that as Heeseung passed by, you physically cringed because of it.

“So, are you ready for some movie date?” Heeseung asked, slumping on the couch comfortably.

It’s a movie screening. A movie screening, not a date. This doesn’t look like a date — “of course! Just open the tv, I already selected it there. I’ll just go get some snacks.” you said, going towards the kitchen where your stock was.

“Need help?” Heeseung asked.

“No thanks! You’re a guest, make yourself comfortable!” you answered, because deep inside you’re about to burst any moment.

What the hell. Of course, Heeseung doesn’t know how to take a hint because he stood up from the couch like the gentleman he is and followed you towards the kitchen. You let him wander around as you placed the microwaveable popcorn inside the microwave, and while waiting, you opened your fridge to grab a few drinks for the two of you. Placing it on the tray as Heeseung found the pantry of snacks.

“Hey, my snacks are still here,” he laughed, grabbing the bag of chips and sweets you bought for him last week.

“You didn’t eat it when you had practice here?” you asked.

“I told myself I’ll just eat it during our movie date,” Heeseung casually said, and you are holding yourself back from asking him why he keeps on saying that this is a date.

Mixed signals. Mixed signals! Heeseung probably didn’t mean it. You gave him an awkward smile before shifting your attention towards the microwave where just in time, had just finished cooking the popcorn.

“Heeseung hyung? You’re here?” the two of you stopped when a familiar voice echoed inside the kitchen.

“We’re going to watch a movie for our project,” Heeseung casually said. “Wanna watch it with us?”

As you turn around, Jungwon gives you a knowing look. The “our agreement, don’t forget.” look and you only gave him a nod as he glanced back at his friend.

“No thanks, you guys enjoy it though — hyung what I told you!” Jungwon warns once again, making Heeseung chuckle.

“I know dude, calm down,” then, he looks at you. “Let’s go?”

As the two of you arrived at the living room, you two opted to sit on the long couch — sitting on both ends of the couch. You relaxed your legs on the extension of the couch, hugging the throw pillow while Heeseung had his legs sprawled on the space between the two of you.

Jungwon passes by, glancing at the two of you, contended that you two are a few feet apart, he returns to his room and that was your cue. You grabbed the remote and clicked play, the sound of the movie slipping through the speaker, and there, the two of you watched in peace.

For the duration of the movie, you two were too immersed with it. Only eating the snacks as both of you were too focused on the scenes, trying to understand the plot and narration, especially since both of you know that the movie’s adaptation is far from the novel.

“I hate Trip,” Heeseung suddenly blurted out midway through the movie. You only glanced at him, clutching the pillow you were holding. “He’s such an asshole, leaving Lux on the field alone? That’s so sick.”

“All of the guys are assholes,” you explained. “They don’t even know these girls, they just fantasized about them.”

“Yeah that too, but Trip’s the most jerk out of all of them,” Heeseung laughs. “After stealing Lux’ virginity, he immediately dropped her.”

“All guys do that,” you bitterly said.

Heeseung didn’t say a word, immediately catching your bitter tone. He glances at you as you munched a few chips to ease the tension.

“You don’t have to answer it but…saying from your experience?” he asked, body shifting to face you.

“My ex-boyfriend he…it was after prom too, everything was special and wholesome — from what I feel, then a few weeks later he broke up with me,” you laughed bitterly. “But that was back in high school, I shouldn’t have dated high school guys, they’re immature and horny.”

“Woah, that’s shitty of him,” Heeseung could only say. “Does he study here?”

“Why? Are you going to hunt him down? He went overseas, and don’t worry, Jungwon gave him a punch and kick in the shin,” you laughed.

“Is that why Jungwon’s so protective of you?” Heeseung asked out of the blue.

“Half of it is the reason why,” you answered. “My ex was already a walking red flag before we got together, Jungwon warned me and I didn’t listen to him. So when it happened, he kinda had that ‘I told you so’ look but at the same time, he didn’t push it. Simply because I was really hurt at that time.”

Heeseung nods, watching as you shrug with your words, like you’re over it.

“I mean Jungwon’s not that overprotective at all. He’s not the ‘they have to go through me’ type of younger brother. He doesn’t care who I date but because of my experience, I pretty much held a high standard on dating guys.” you laughed.

“Oh really?” Heeseung lazily leans on the couch. “What’s your type then?”

You blinked at his words, knowing damn well that your whole ideal type is in front of you.

“Are we really pausing the movie midway for that question?”

“Come on, in exchange I’ll tell you my type,” he bargained.

Now you’re curious, wondering what kind of girl Heeseung wants, so you bite on it.

“Okay, I want someone taller than me — that’s the only physical trait that I want. He’s got to be smart and handsome because Jungwon will judge me if I date an ugly and stupid guy. What else? I prefer a straightforward guy because mixed signals are shitty, I don’t want to waste my time overthinking your words.” you replied.

You saw Heeseung's expression shift when you mention ‘straightforward guys.’ His jaw slacking before quipping a small smile before he spoke, “that’s all?”

“Do you want it to be really specific? Like he’s good at cooking or what type of sport he plays? I don’t go there, just be genuine and straightforward with your feelings for me, and we’re good.” you brushed off. “So, your type?”

“My type?” Heeseung ponders it for a moment, before glancing at you, his stare on you was too long but he doesn’t notice it — but you do. “Probably someone who’s mature and independent, but not too distant that she’s not open about her feelings. You get it right? I don’t mind their physical appearance. I just don’t want girls who are too clingy that it’s suffocating but at the same time, I still want them to be affectionate to me.”

Not what you expected. Most boys would describe their ideal firstly by their physical appearance. Some want short girls, long hair or short hair, even the skin complexion. While Heeseung’s ideal type doesn’t rely on those, you can still conclude that his standards are high.

“Sounds like your dream girl needs to be invented in a lab.” you teased. “Have you ever thought that maybe your dream girl is one of the girls you’ve rejected?”

“I know this kinda sounds egoistic but most girls, those who would confess their love to me, they sometimes just like the idea of being with me, Lee Heeseung. Most of them really don’t know who I really am and wouldn’t bother knowing me.”

And to think that you’re one of them gave you a hint of guilt. You have a lot of preconceived notions about Heeseung, assuming that he’s this dreamy guy that’s charismatic and everything. But with the small interactions that you had with him, you slowly realized that he’s more than what you thought.

A small smile escapes your lips as you shift your attention to the paused screen of your tv, grabbing the remote and fiddling with it as the awkward silence hovered between the two of you.

“So you’re just like the Lisbon sisters?” you gawked, and Heeseung stared at you for a second before bursting out into fits of laughter.

“You have your way with words y/n,” Heeseung stated. “But you could say something like that — except the suicide part because my parents are actually decent people who wouldn’t put me on house arrest.”

You two continued watching the movie. Both falling into a tranquil silence until the end of the movie. The ending credits were rolling but neither of you moved. That’s when you grabbed your phone to check what time it was — it was almost eight in the evening.

“Great movie,” Heeseung started. “Cut out a lot of scenes from the novel, but Coppola managed to retain the whole vibe of the novel.”

“I think our project will be successful, given that you had a lot of things to say, I feel like Mr. Jeon should give us additional points if we exceed his maximum number of pages.” you jokingly pointed out.

“Hey, I’m sure you have much more to add to our project than I do,” Heeseung assured. “Either way, we’re a great team don’t you think?”

Heeseung raises his hands, smiling at you who didn’t sink in what to do first. Not until Heeseung waves his hands one more time before you clasp his hands, shaking it as both smiles become wide. You didn’t miss the way Heeseung’s hands squeezed your hands lightly before letting it go.

“We have a week before our agreed deadline, let’s get this done so that we can focus on our midterms,” Heeseung said, standing up from his seat. “I should get going now, Jungwon might wonder why I’m still around.”

You only laughed as you stood up to walk him towards the door. “I enjoyed the movie Heeseung, take care on the way home.”

But what surprised you is Heeseung suddenly brushed the stray hairs that almost covered your face, smiling as his hands linger near your cheeks a bit longer than you expected.

“Goodnight y/n, I enjoyed the movie too,” Heeseung smiles.

You watch as Heeseung hops onto his motorbike, waving at you before starting its engine and driving away. You stood there speechless in front of your doorway that you didn’t even notice that Jungwon had witnessed the scene.

So when you turned around, you were surprised when you made eye contact with your younger brother.

“Have you been there the whole time?” you asked, heart beating fast like you were a deer caught in the headlight.

“No, I just got down,” Jungwon lied instead. “Heeseung hyung went home now?”

“Yeah — he just did,” you said, almost stumbling to your words. “It’s almost late, do you want to eat dinner or —”

“I’m curious, with the way Heeseung hyung acts around you, have you ever thought of having a crush on him?” Jungwon said, and that made your world stop.

Were you that obvious? There’s no way Jungwon was able to catch it but then again, this is Jungwon we’re talking about. Your younger brother who’s observant and quick to pick up things. He’s the only person that knows you damn well.

“Why would you think of that?” you immediately asked instead.

“I mean, he’s a guy, he’s also handsome and how he acts — as a girl, have you?” and relief was all you could feel because Jungwon wasn't able to pick it up.

“Jungwon, whenever I see Heeseung, I see him as your friend, and we’ve said it many times, it’s weird to date your friends.” you answered quickly, since it has always been your excuse.

“Well, if he wasn’t my friend?” Jungwon asked, crossing his arms.

You raised an eyebrow, now there’s a sudden change in Jungwon’s tone. Like he was asking you hypothetically. “Where is this going Won?”

“Nothing nothing,” Jungwon said, shaking his head as he headed towards the kitchen, with you following him behind. “You two have been close lately, that’s why. I’ve already told you about Heeseung hyung.”

“And I’m not going to give meaning to everything he does,” you assured, pinching your brother’s cheeks which made him scowl. “I’m not that stupid girl anymore Won.”

Despite internally, you were celebrating every interaction you had with Heeseung, you know that you’ll never have a chance with Heeseung.

You can only hold on to the fact that Heeseung may be considered reachable in your sort. But of course, just like your other crushes, whatever you feel about Heeseung was just a crush. A fleeting feeling of admiration along with the butterflies in your stomach. Nothing more, because the deeper your feelings may go for him — it’ll just end up hurting you.

You submitted your project just a few days before your planned deadline. Everything was perfect for you and Heeseung. The flow of the paper was readable, arranged properly with a clear analysis of the novel. Light revisions were made before passing it to Prof. Jeon. Your professor was impressed that you two were able to pass it earlier compared to others. Making you two confident that you’ll receive a passing grade from it.

But submitting the project also means that there’s no reason for you to approach Heeseung. But you find that situation better than getting closer than him. It’ll just save you from falling from him deeper. No more crash outs, no more venting of feelings, and assuming that everything Heeseung does has meaning —

“Hey, you’re going to that art exhibit?” Heeseung approaches you suddenly.

You glanced at him twice before your mouth moved, “wait, the one from Prof. Lee’s subject?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s voluntary but you’re interested in art right? I remember you told me that one time.”

You couldn’t even recall when you told him that. Was it when you two were on your ride home from your groceries? Or was it when you two were discussing your novel analysis but got segue midway? Either way, you found yourself surprised to hear that from Heeseung. He remembered something that you’ve mentioned.

“Oh — well, I do of course,” you stuttered. “Why?”

“Let’s go together? I also wanted to see it, they seem interesting,” Heeseung casually said.

“Right, Saturday?” you asked.

“Saturday afternoon? I’ll see you at the museum? Or should I just pick you up?”

And let Jungwon see the two of you? “No, let’s just meet at the museum, around three?”

“Sounds great, see you!” Heeseung waves goodbye to you and you almost melt from where you were standing.

Who would’ve thought that after the project. Heeseung will still find a way to approach you. Should you give a meaning to this one? Because there’s no way in hell that he asked you to go see an exhibit that is voluntary, on a Saturday, as what? As friends? You don’t even know if you could consider him as your friend.

You tried to conceal your beating heart, but anytime it’s going to burst out at any moment. You wanted to go to an empty, hollow place and scream into the void, because as much as you want to deny it, you couldn’t help to conclude that you’re going out with Heeseung, alone, with no Yang Jungwon watching you two like a hawk.

Yet, the thought of Heeseung being Jungwon’s friend was thrown out of the window the moment Saturday arrived. You stood there outside the entrance of the museum. Your hands clammy and sweaty as you stood there awkwardly, internally cursing yourself for arriving ten minutes earlier than your agreed time.

You were wearing a white maxi skirt, pairing it with a baby tee and thin cardigan, not your usual get-up but you wanted to at least look decent in front of Heeseung. The art exhibit was located inside the museum of the art. It’s an exhibit dedicated to children’s rights. They displayed hundreds of drawings and paintings drawn by kids alongside important and historical paintings.

Your professor, Ms. Lee was an advocate, that’s why she encouraged your class to visit the exhibit. While you’re thinking of going there along with your friends — Heeseung approached you first.

Speaking of Heeseung, your eyes landed on him who’s walking towards you. The smile on his face widening as he stood in front of you. He was wearing a long-sleeved buttoned shirt, tucked in front of his washed denim pants. Some silver jewellery on his hands and neck, and to compliment it all, he was wearing his fake eyeglass with his hair bangs down.

“You look beautiful,” Heeseung started, and that’s when your heart started to beat rapidly.

“Thanks, you look good too,” you complimented him back. “Should we go inside?”

The two of you made its way inside the entrance. Signing up for the exhibit before going inside the first room of the museum.

It was quiet, a bit cold, and there were a lot of people who came by to visit the exhibit. You and Heeseung walked side by side, stopping at every painting just to read the description, and perhaps fawn over it even though it was obvious it was a kid’s painting. Sometimes, you gawk at the historical paintings. Despite visiting the museum a couple of times, you never failed to be mesmerized by it.

“This one’s cute,” Heeseung pointed out. It was a painting of a kid’s pet — obviously, it looked like a monster rather than a dog.

You stifle a laugh as Heeseung glances at you with a confused look. “Why? Did I say something wrong?”

“Nothing, you seem to be enjoying this one,” you pointed out.

“You think I’m not the type of guy who would go to museums or some art gallery?” Heeseung asked. “Guess you don’t know me at all.”

You became quiet for a minute, “I actually don’t, I’m surprised you agreed to come with me here.”

“Couldn’t miss the opportunity, it’s great to see kid’s scribbles beside historical paintings,” Heeseung laughs.

“You seem fond of kids,” you told him.

“That’s why I chose education, I always wanted to teach kids. I know they’re hyper and loud, but better to teach the alphabet than high school chemistry,” Heeseung explained.

“Oh so education has always been your first choice?” you asked, surprised.

“What? Surprised that a guy like me actually wanted to become a teacher? Yeah, a lot of people say that.”

“I don’t know, I’m just used to education students who weren't accepted to their first choice so they ended up choosing it,” Heeseung glances at you and you give him a smile. “I know because education wasn’t my first choice.”

“Wait right there, what?” Heeseung asked, surprised. “Not gonna lie, you give off the vibe of a girl who wanted to become a teacher.”

“I was planning on taking architecture but I failed the drawing test, so here I am,” you simply shrugged. “But I learned to love education too, so don’t come at me mr. education is my first choice.”

A small chuckle escapes on Heeseung’s lips, “I guess we really don’t know each other that well.”

“Right.” you only said. Realizing that you two are still on that stage where you two aren’t friends, but aren’t more than that — acquaintance? Maybe you’ll put you two in that category. Contended with that conclusion, you hum lightly as you shift your attention towards the paintings.

The two of you continued walking around the room. You were simply amazed at the historical paintings but it’s funny seeing a six-years-old’s painting of her family beside it. But you can only feel nothing but small jumps of joy looking at it.

Heeseung, on the other hand, seems to be more immersed in the gallery than you. Eyeing on every display the museum has. Laughing at some kid’s painting but at the same time, cooing at it. Finding it precious and innocent for him.

As the two of you moved to the second room, only a few people were there. There weren’t any kid’s paintings anymore, only artifacts and displays but you and Heeseung decided to completely tour around the museum.

“Why don’t you ask me a question?” Heeseung blurted out of nowhere.

“What for?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, we don’t know each other very well,” Heeseung stated. “And you seem to have a lot of misinterpreted impressions about me.”

“Sounds like you just wanted to talk about you,” you grinned.

“No, this is like, twenty questions. After you ask a question, I ask you a question back,” he said.

“Alright,” you hum, thinking of what’s a decent question to ask him. “Will you still continue performing after graduation? You seem like you really wanted to become a teacher.”

“Big question already? That’s hard,” for a minute Heeseung pondered about it, glancing at every display before looking at you. “I don’t mind, actually it depends on the others. Jay and Sunghoon wanted to, Jungwon isn’t still quite sure especially since he’s a year below us. We’ll talk about it next year.”

“I’m pretty sure that Jungwon wanted to play for the band, he loves being part of Arcanum,” you shared, making Heeseung smile.

“Okay my turn, if Jungwon didn’t establish the ‘don’t date my sister’ rule, who would you date out of all his friends?”

You awkwardly chuckled. “Why are you asking that?”

“I’m just curious,” Heeseung nonchalantly replied.

“Will it boost your ego if I chose you?” you teased, and Heeseung scoffed in disbelief.

“It’s a hypothetical question y/n.”

“Fine, hypothetically I’ll choose Jake.” you answered.

Heeseung’s brows furrowed. “Jake?”

That’s when you laugh, “What? You thought it only revolved around Arcanum? Aren’t there like seven of you?”

“Yeah but — Jake?” His tone surprised more than ever.

“It’s a hypothetical question, Heeseung,” you grinned. “No explanations, my turn and since we’re talking about dating, why are you still single?”

“I’ll get back to you y/n, but to answer your question, I just like being single. Having a girlfriend isn’t what I have in mind right now, and I don’t do casual shits too.”

“Jungwon told me that you’re a mixed signal giver,” you snitched, and Heeseung only laughed.

“Everyone thinks that, but trust me, I don’t leave girls hanging. I guess they just assume that my gestures have meaning to it, that’s why they think I’m into them,” Heeseung explained. “I mean if I helped you carry some heavy things, would you give meaning to it?”

It’s funny because he did accompany you to do groceries one time. “That depends, if you helped me numerous times, then I’ll give meaning to it.”

“Yeah well some girls don’t, one time, I helped a girl cross the street one time, and she thought I liked her,” Heeseung explained. “I’m just being nice!”

You only laughed at his words. “I mean if a handsome guy helped me cross the street, I’ll assume a lot of things too.”

Heeseung groans, “whatever, I’ll just keep rejecting them, I enjoy being single. It’s chill and no love problems, look at Jay and Sunghoon, I don’t think I can do that to myself.”

Your smile faded. Shifting your attention towards the display. Thinking that whatever you two are doing right now is probably a friendly date.

But at the same time, this is different from him helping someone cross the street. Heeseung could’ve asked his friends to accompany him, but Heeseung asked you and that’s all because he remembered that you like art. So how can you not give meaning to it?

“Okay my turn, so why Jake?” Heeseung changes the topic.

“You’re seriously not going to let go of that one huh?” you let out a small chuckle before letting out a sigh.

“I don’t know, he’s the first one that came to my mind,” you simply said, and in some ways, your answer wasn’t wrong. “He’s the one I’m closest to the most, maybe that’s another reason why.”

“How come you and him are closer than you and me?” Heeseung asked. “We’ve been classmates since freshman year.”

“I think it’s pretty normal, I’m not even close with most of our classmates either,” you laughed.

“I hope we become closer after this,” Heeseung blurted out.

You stopped midway, glancing at him who only gave you a smile.

“You’re too obvious you want me,” you teased, joking with your words.

“What if I told you that I do, want you?” he grins, before grabbing your hand as he pulls you towards the next hall. Surprised by his answer and gesture, you remained quiet as his hand remained on your throughout the whole exhibit.

You two decided to have dinner outside after finishing touring the museum. At a fast food chain because you were craving their burgers. You two continued the twenty questions, until it was almost late and the traffic had slowly dissolved.

By the end of the day, Heeseung drove you home, even opening the car of the passenger seat for you. You could only smile as you find not only the action sweet — but your whole day with Heeseung.

Not only that but Heeseung walked you towards the front door of your house. He watched as you pressed the doorbell, before looking at him.

“I had so much fun today,” you told him. “Thank you Heeseung, I didn’t expect that you would remember that I’m interested in art.”

“I pay attention to what you say, I also had fun too,” Heeseung casually said, acting like it’s nothing but for you, it meant something.

“Goodnight Heeseung,” you waved, but before you went, Heeseung suddenly grabbed you by your shoulder.

Surprised, you only stood there. His round eyes staring at you like he doesn’t want you to leave yet. But what surprised you the most was when he faced you towards him.

Close. Way too close. Heeseung’s eyes never left yours. You can feel it, your cheeks heating up, your heart beating fast like crazy. You don’t know what to do as Heeseung's eyes darted to your lips before glancing back at you — like he’s asking for permission.

But before you could utter another word, the door swung open and you almost fell flat when you pushed yourself away from Heeseung.

“You guys think that I’m fucking stupid!?” Jungwon stood there, his tone dripping with anger as you were frozen from where you were standing.

“Jungwon, it’s not what it looks like —”

“I told you many times, you can fool any girl that you want but not my sister!” Jungwon pushed Heeseung on the chest, but Heeseung didn't move.

“Dude calm down!” Heeseung shouted instead.

“You know it yourself that you’re not ready for a relationship then what the fuck is this? Taking her out on a date and almost kissing her? Stay the fuck away from my sister!”

But a mocking laugh escapes on Heeseung’s lips, looking at Jungwon like he was taunting the younger one. “I wouldn’t be surprised if y/n ends up being single forever, you’re scaring guys away,”

“Guys like you hyung! You’re not even that serious when it comes to love.” Jungwon pointed out, making you realise that he was right, but that doesn’t give him the right to get angry at Heeseung.

“Jungwon, we weren’t doing anything, Stop it,” you butt in.

That’s when he darted his attention to you. “I’ve warned you about Heeseung hyung many times, but you never listen to me — you never listen!” he shouted, and hearing those words felt like you’re in high school again. Remembering how angry Jungwon was when he discovered what happened to you.

You stood there as the disappointment in Jungwon’s face became more clear. You wanted to defend yourself when Heeseung stepped in.

“Jungwon stop that. She’s older than you, have some respect.” he stated.

“Don’t interfere hyung, this is between me and my sister.” Jungwon coldly said.

“You’re the one who should stop. You know you’re suffocating y/n don’t you?” a taunting smile forming on his lips. “She’s her own person, and she couldn’t even move because you’re breathing under her neck.”

Jungwon didn’t say a word, he didn’t rebut Heeseung’s words because deep inside, his friend was right. Still, a pissed expression was written over the younger’s face. Shooting glares at Heeseung.

“I’m not that stupid to hurt her Jungwon, maybe you should try trusting her instead of caging her.” Heeseung added, and you wonder what he meant when he said that.

But you watch as Heeseung walks away. Leaving you and Jungwon alone there. Your lips were tightly sealed before your brother faced you.

“Do you like Heeseung hyung?” Jungwon corners. “Don’t lie to me noona.”

You stared at him for a moment. Guilt rushing in you because in some angle, there’s a part of you who’s at fault. “Fine, Jungwon, I have had a crush on him since freshman year but it’s just a crush.”

Jungwon could only laugh in disbelief. “So all the times I told you to stay away from him were useless?”

“No, because from the start, I know I never stood a chance on him,” and every word you said hurts you. “Even now, our hangouts, whatever this was, and every gesture he does, I’m not going to give meaning to it. I don’t want to make an assumption unless he really confessed to me that he likes me.”

“You’re just leading yourself to a cliff,” Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “Why would you still entertain him even though you know you don’t stand a chance. I don’t get you — both of you actually.”

“Maybe Heeseung’s right, you should just trust me instead of caging me,” you answered instead. “I know what I am doing Jungwon, maybe you should just let me make my own choices this time.”

Jungwon stared at you for a whole minute, before heaving out a sigh. “Don’t come at me when Heeseung hyung hurts you, I’ve already warned you many times.”

But before he could leave, you grabbed your brother by his arms. “Don’t be mad at Heeseung, I don’t want to be the reason why you two fought — or worse, Arcanum disbanding.”

“You should’ve thought about that before you even interacted with Heeseung hyung, the same goes with him.” Jungwon swatted his arms harshly, glaring at you before going inside the house.

Despite that night, Jungwon’s words still managed to stop whatever you and Heeseung had.

It was weird. For the past few weeks, the two of you are always beside each other, talking about ‘The Virgin Suicides,’ getting to know each other through oddly specific details, and planning meetups casually, followed by a museum date, deeply knowing him more and almost kissing each other — then the next thing you knew, you two were back to being strangers.

Back to normal. You could say. Band practices continued in your house, tension seeping away with you giving them small greetings before going inside your room, and the way you and Heeseung ignored each other — both knew that whatever you two had was pointless.

For the past few days, there were no more Lee Heeseung approaching you and everything. And somehow, that should ease you — reminding you that he’s unreachable.

You almost fooled yourself, but with the way Heeseung distanced himself after defending you from Jungwon, you were quick to conclude that he still respects his friend’s decision to not go near you, just like you should with dating your brother’s friend.

And if Heeseung had distanced himself from you, so should you too.

But somehow, you still ended up wherever he was. Now, he’s sitting in front of you, at a noisy bar, along with your classmates who were celebrating the end of midterms exam. The table is full of alcohol, different ones — beer, cocktails, tequilas, and vodkas. All assortments that will have everyone passed out drunk before the night ends.

You have a decent alcohol tolerance, you’re not that close with most of your classmates and you don’t even like going out but here you are, because you overheard Heeseung joining the night out.

Avoiding him was the best option, you know where it all leads if you continued talking to him — Jungwon getting furious, Arcanum might disband, and hurting your own feelings. Lee Heeseung should’ve remained unreachable, but for all the times of him noticing you, flirting and almost kissing you, you want to know more.

There’s an itch inside you that wants to confront him, and your normal self would get flustered if you approached him first. That’s why a bit of alcohol and drunkenness might help you gain the courage that you need.

The night was still young. You can do your confrontation later but for now, you’re spending the first few hours enjoying and laughing along with your classmates, trying your best to socialize not until a classmate of yours raises her glass.

“Let’s play, truth or shot!” Sieun suggested. Because all of you are seated at a long table and a spin the bottle won’t suffice, everyone gets to do it. No one wants to ruin the mood, and perhaps it was because most of them are tipsy, everyone agreed to join.

You watch as all of them get daring questions, somewhere bold to answer the questions while others choose to drink the shot.

“Y/n, it’s your turn!” Sieun announced excitingly, clapping her hands as she stretches the shot glass towards yours which is a mixture of tequila and beer.

“Do you guys have a question for her?” she asked the crowd.

“I have!” Lily said, obviously drunk. “Kiss, marry, fuck, Arcanum members except your younger brother of course.”

The whole table hollered in excitement, patting Lily because the question was too good. You only laughed at their teasing but everyone was insisting that it’s a hypothetical question especially when one specific member is present at the table.

Heeseung looks at you, eyeing every move you make as you look at the shot glass, wondering if you’ll answer it or not.

But you were brave. It’s just a stupid drinking game, there are chances that they won’t remember it by tomorrow. “Okay hypothetically? I’ll kiss Sunghoon but on the cheeks! And it’s a platonic kiss because I don’t want to be a homewrecker!” you laughed before pondering between the two, too long that all of them are starting to get impatient.

“Girl, Heeseung is waiting for your answer!” Sumin shakes your shoulder but you only laugh as you stare at Heeseung, a smirk forming on your lips. The alcohol clouding your mind as a bright idea popped into your mind.

“I’d marry Jay, and I’d fuck Heeseung,” you answered truthfully, which earned amountful teasing and screams from your classmates, banging the table as you could only take the shot in front of you despite answering the question.

“We need an explanation!” Lily insisted.

“Well Jay is the most husband material out of them, and since Heeseung mentioned that he prefers being single. A one-time sex wouldn’t be bad, right Heeseung?” you fired the question towards Heeseung who only smiled in disbelief.

“I’ll give you a good fuck then,” Heeseung answered back, completely shutting you off. You sat there frozen as Heeseung took a sip on his beer, even wiggling his eyebrows like he was teasing you, while both your classmates continued teasing both of you.

“Since the topic is on you Lee Heeseung, would you date y/n? If you’re not such a stuck-up guy who insists that he likes being single?” Sieun interrupted, giving the shot glass in front of Heeseung.

Heeseung looks at the shot glass for a moment, before glancing at you, an evident smirk on his lips that makes you nervous.

“Yeah, why not?” he said casually which made the table noisy again.

“Oh my god you two, just make out already!”

“I dare the two of you to kiss for five seconds!”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the two of you ended up together after tonight.”

The table had placed the attention on the two of you. Your classmates continued the teasing which only made you laugh while Heeseung remained in his seat, drinking his beer and completely ignoring the dumb request your classmates had.

But it wasn't the peak of the night. More alcoholic drinks were ordered. There were some strangers going to your table, flirting with your classmates, asking for their numbers. Some were already crying as the song in the club reminded them of their ex, others went out for a smoke, while you remained at your table, doing some stupid game along with your classmates.

Slowly, you’re losing yourself. Your eyes are getting heavier and as you glanced at your watch, it was already 3 am. The table was still full of your classmates when you stood up, almost falling if it wasn’t for your classmate quickly guiding you.

“I need some fresh air!” you shouted at her.

“Okay, do you want me to accompany you?” she asked.

“No, I can do it!” you giggled, grabbing your purse before going outside the bar.

The cold night welcomed you, mixed with the smell of smoke of strangers talking and smoking on the empty road. You could only close your eyes as you sat at a pavement beside it — not caring if it’s dirty. Your head is spinning, everything is blurry but the only good thing is that you don’t feel like you’re going to vomit anytime.

You looked at your watch and saw that it’s almost late. Your energy’s all drained out, you don’t feel socializing anymore, and you just want to slump against your bed and doze off. You have to tell your classmates that you’re leaving, but your butt is glued to the pavement, too tired to move that you could only lower your head and groan louder.

“Get up,” you looked up and there he was. A serious expression written on his face, like he was disappointed in you.

“Hi Heeseung,” you laughed, finding the situation too funny. After the exchange earlier, this is probably the first time you and Heeseung had talked throughout the night. You wanted to ask him questions but your mind was spinning and everything was just too blurry for you.

“Come on now, let’s get you home,” he offered, approaching you as he only brushes his hand on your shoulder.

You only hummed at his words, “home? Sure, I also want to go home now — wait, I have to go back and pay my share.”

“I already got it, and I told them we’re going home. Come on now, can you walk?”

“Of course! Wait —” you stood up from the pavement but you almost fell, Heeseung immediately grabbed you by your waist. Guiding you as you could only lean on his touch, eyes almost close.

Heeseung carefully guided you towards his car, opening the door of his passenger seat while you almost stumbled inside.

“My head hurts,” you groan as soon as Heeseung gets inside.

“Just sleep for a while,” Heeseung advised. “I’ll wake you up when we get home.”

You only nod as you close your eyes, Heeseung starts the engine and drives away from the bar.

But fifteen minutes into the drive, you regained your consciousness, head still spinning but you try your best to think where you are right now and then realise that you’re not inside the bar anymore — nor at the pavement you were sitting on.

Then it hit you, looking at the interior of the car as the smell of a familiar perfume made you glance at the driver. And there he was, driving you home.

“You’re allowed to drive?” That was the first thing you said.

“I’m not even tipsy y/n,” Heeseung said. “I can’t say the same thing to you.”

“I’m never going to do that again,” you mumbled to yourself as you could only lean on the car’s window. Watching how Heeseung drove smoothly towards the empty streets of the city.

“Considering all the things you’ve said and done tonight, I am not surprised,” Heeseung taunted, that’s when you looked at him, a teasing smile formed on his lips.

“You also said some weird stuff tonight,” you rebutted, words slurring out of your mouth.

Heeseung turned to a familiar street, his smile never leaving as he parked in front of your house’s gate. “Would you put a meaning to it?”

“Why would I put a meaning to it? It’s just a dare.” you answered, dodging his question. “Like mine, it’s a hypothetical question.”

“What if I want you to put a meaning to it?” he boldly said. “What if I told you, that night when we went to the museum, I really wanted to kiss you?”

It took your drunken mind a minute to process everything. “What?”

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

Heeseung was serious. He was looking at you with much intensity. The atmosphere became quiet, but suffocating due to the tension between the two of you. You could only blink as your eyes darted on his lips. Thick and soft, pinkish and tempting that it made you bite your lips.

“Fine, just a kiss,” you said, removing your seat belt as you faced him. There’s no harm with a short kiss right?

You watched as Heeseung unbuckled his seat belt too. Leaning towards you as he cups your cheeks and without any hesitation, crashes his lips onto yours — too fast that you weren’t prepared for it.

That’s why it didn’t take a few seconds for you to separate from him, worrying Heeseung as he looked at you, confused.

“I’m sorry —” you laughed. “This just doesn't feel real to me.”

Kissing your long-time crush? That crush of yours who you always convince yourself that you don’t stand a chance? Wanted to kiss you? And had kissed you just now? Sounds like a dream for you, something that the alcohol inside you had convinced was real.

“Then let’s do it again,” Heeseung said before pulling once again for a kiss. This time, softly like he was being careful with you. Unknowingly, you kissed him back, along with soft whimpers escaping from your lips. Try your best to balance yourself as Heeseung’s kisses become sloppy, almost breathy.

As you pull out from his lips. The two of you only stared at each other, the tension was rising and the inside of the car started to heat. Something in his eyes screams that he wants more — hungry for you and that’s when you felt your heart beating fast.

“Come here,” Heeseung adjusted his seat further to the back to make space for you. He pulls your body and the next thing you know, you’re on his lap while his hands are on your waist as he pulls you to a feverish kiss.

You must be dreaming, you muttered to yourself as Heeseung’s soft, plump lips are all your lips could feel. The taste of alcohol mixing along, bitter yet sweet for you while both hands became busy with feeling each other. Your hands trailed mindlessly to his shoulders down to his chest, wanting to feel that this is real for you.

While Heeseung’s hands made a bold move by brushing it on your clothed chest. Breaking the kiss, Heeseung leans towards your left ears, murmuring sweet words while his hands work on its way to cup your soft tits, wanting more to feel the skin beneath your clothes.

“I want you,” he whispered huskily. Planting kisses on your jawline down to your neck. “Want to feel you good — fuck, your lips are so soft.”

It didn’t help that his words go straight to your core. His flirty words that made you fall more deeply into him. Soft whimpers escaping your lips as he pushed you closer towards him, making you grind on his dick underneath, clearly printing on his pants. Guiding you as you rocked your hips towards it, earning moans from Heeseung. His lips leave your neck trailing towards your opened collarbone, softly and dangerously near your cleavage.

His hands slipped underneath your shirt, and in a snap, your bra is undone and he’s playing with your breast, flickering your nipples as he grinds his hips upwards to create more friction with you.

“Fuck — feels too good,” you moaned loudly as you continued to grind against him. Panties soaking wet due to the action.

“We can stop here. I don’t want to push you further if you don’t want it.” Heeseung stated before planting a kiss on your ears, and you know very well what he meant.

But despite his sweet gesture, Heeseung wasn’t subtle, his gleaming round eyes had a stare lust-struck on you. Pleading but wanting, and you know that you can just stop right there — afraid of the consequences.

Having sex with Heeseung doesn’t sound that bad. He’s your crush, and everything about this is mutually agreed. This is like a dream come true to you. But having sex with your younger brother’s friend? That’s a different story. It’s forbidden, and you’re breaking the only rule you and your brother established.

Jungwon had warned you many times about Heeseung. He’s a mixed signal giver. This might be nothing for him, but for you, sex was supposed to be intimate, a gesture only lovers should do.

But as you look at his soft, round bambi-like eyes, you just can’t help but to be lured into it. You know the moment you two kissed, you two have crossed the line — and the swirl of alcohol in your mind is eager for more.

Biting your lips, you could only brush his messy hair as you whispered to him, “Let’s go inside,” fuck it, you don’t know if it was the alcohol that’s talking, but it gave you the courage to say those words. You’re convinced that this is a one time thing, and you’ll have no regrets whatever happens tonight.

Heeseung turns off the engine before the two of you enter your house. Empty and quiet given that it was almost 4 am. Heeseung was wary at first, knowing that Jungwon’s asleep in his room. While you're a drunken mess, laughing and almost stumbling as you remove your shoes, tugging Heeseung with you.

“What about Jungwon —”

“He’s having a sleepover with Sunoo at Riki’s dorm.” you casually replied. “We have the house all by ourselves.”

Those words are all it takes for Heeseung to push you against the wall. Trapping you with his knees in between your thighs, almost brushing on your core that a moaning gasp escapes your lips.

“No wonder you’re so bold,” Heeseung smirked. “We can be as loud as we want to.”

“Make me,” you challenged, grinning as you boldly palmed his cock, even squeezing it teasingly making him groan.

“Remember what I told you earlier?” he leaned towards you, stopping an inch in front of you, nose almost touching yours as he smirked, gaze menacing. “I’ll give you a good fuck.”

A soft chuckle escapes your lips before Heeseung leans in for a kiss which you gladly reciprocated. Pulling him closer as he grabs you by your waist, almost lifting you with your clothed cunt resting on his right thigh. Grinding against it as the kiss turned harsher, both hands eager to touch each other as it trailed on each other’s body.

It didn’t take seconds before both bodies started to feel hot and sweaty. Heeseung shrugged off his shirt while quickly doing the same with yours — along with your bra. Both half-naked, you didn’t care that your living room might be witnessing something scandalous. Sex were supposed to be intimate for you, but now, you’re just eager to be fucked by your long-time crush.

Heeseung lowered his head between the cave of your breast, kisses trailing around it as he sucked and flickered your left nipples with his tongue. His large hand cups the right side, fondling it and making you more sensitive than ever.

“So pretty for me,” Heeseung grins as he continues to play with your tits, earning soft moans from you.

Heeseung removes his touch from you for a minute and kneels on the floor. Hands holding your thighs as he pushes it for you to open it.

You look down on him, surprised but dazed to see him kneeling in front of you. Your heart starts to beat fast when his face is just a few inches close to your clothed pussy, breathing heavily as he touches the end of your skirt.

“Wearing this flimsy thing, you never fail to surprise me huh?” he teased, lifting it up to see your laced red panties. “Fuck, keep the skirt on, pretty.”

Heeseung kisses the insides of your thighs, slowly and soft like he was worshipping it. Every touch feels like heaven for you, his hands making their way to hold your thighs firmly as Heeseung lightly as he presses his lips on your cunt. The wet patch evident where he swiped his tongue languidly on it, knocking you out of your breath.

You can feel your body becoming more sensitive than ever. Heeseung didn’t hesitate to pull down your panty, displaying your pussy out which only made him groan.

“Gorgeous for me baby,” he looks up to you. Eyes darkening as he grabs your right leg, swinging it on his shoulder so that you could put a weight on him. He doesn't care that his knees are aching red on the marbled tiles, Heeseung watches as you fall for him the moment he kisses your pussy’s lips.

Gently, he wanted to taste every inch of you, his mind hazing as your musk drunkens his mind. That’s when Heeseung started to swipe his tongue on your core, making you let out a loud moan that almost echoed inside.

“We got the whole house for ourselves right? Make those lovely noises for me,” Heeseung taunted before he continued eating you out.

It felt better than when you touched yourself. You can feel your body heating up twice, sensitive and eager for the rush of climax. You were shameless in making sounds, moans and whimpers escaping your lips, wanting Heeseung to know that you’re feeling good because of him.

Heeseung lightly grazed on your clit, making you twitch which made him gripped on your leg harsher. The heel of your feet digging his back.

“Stay still for me baby,” he ordered, tugging your body closer to him as he started devouring you again. Tongue lapping on your lips and clit simultaneously until he decided to use his free hand to insert a finger inside you.

“Fuck —”

“You’re feeling good baby? Moan for me, let me know how good I make you,” he inserts another finger. Circling inside your gummy walls as he continues to play your clit with his tongue, faster and harsher that your body starts to shake.

You couldn’t help but to grab his hair for balance, unconsciously grinding your hips for more. You can feel your orgasm coming, and you were eager to chase after it. Your breathing started to become unstable, trying to hold on to the feeling of being pleasured not until Heeseung’s slender fingers curled into a specific spot that made you moan loudly.

“That’s your spot baby? Come on don’t hold it back, cum for me,” Heeseung orders, his fingers bruising that spot that it didn’t take you seconds for you to whimper, body shaking as your orgasm came rushing to you. Heeseung savored every drop of your release. Latching on your pussy as he drinks it sloppily, juices trailing down on his chin as he continues to eat you despite reaching your orgasm.

You could only cry as you tried to remove Heeseung out of your cunt but he presses himself further, clit brushing on his nose making you whine louder as he holds your shaking hips tightly that it’ll leave a bruise.

“Heeseung — shit, fuck —wait!” your incoherent babbling didn’t stop Heeseung.

“I bet your ex couldn’t even make you cum,” he taunted, looking up at you. Seeing you all messy, sweating, and panting, made him want to devour you more. He wanted to hear more how you weaken in front of him.

Thumb grazing on your clit, you started to cry loudly again. Eyes shut harshly as Heeseung inserts his fingers inside you once again. Your walls trapping his fingers that Heeseung could only wonder how your tight walls would feel around his cock. The thought made him hard and aching.

“Want to make you cum more, make a mess for me baby,” Heeseung stated, lapping on your pussy once again. You could only cry in pleasure, feeling something coiling inside you which isn’t your orgasm.

Heeseung continued abusing your pussy, tongue sucking your clit while his fingers scissored your inside, finding the spot that had made you cum. Fingers curling and pumping in a harsh manner until something gushed out of your pussy. A messy and clear liquid which Heeseung didn’t hesitate to taste.

“Fuck,” he laughs devilishly. “Did you just fucking squirt? Shit, that was so hot. Come on, I know you can do more.”

“I don’t know —”

“Come on, do it for me again,” Heeseung encouraged, fingers continued pumping inside your pussy, until your legs started shaking once again. Another wave of orgasm hits you, squirting shamelessly in Heeseung’s fingers.

Too fucked-out to understand anything, you didn’t notice how Heeseung carried you towards the couch, placing you down on the extended part of the long couch.

“Told you pretty I’ll fuck real good and that’s just the start.” Heeseung stated. Hastily, he unbuckles his belt along with his pants’ zipper, pulling his pants down enough for him to release his huge dick. Red and aching to be inside your pussy. You whimper in pleasure as you stare at Heeseung who spits on his hand, stroking his dick slowly as he eyed on you lustfully.

Heeseung pulls you closer before he flips you on the couch. Pressing you down with your stomach flat against the couch. A heat of embarrassment churned in you as you felt like a doll being manhandled by Heeseung.

It didn’t help that Heeseung pulled your skirt upward, revealing the curve of your ass in front of him. He can feel his dick twitching just by the sight.

“Look at you, all pretty for me,” Heeseung hums. Slapping your ass cheeks making you flinch. The pain felt good that it went right through your core.

“Gonna fuck you so good, you’ll be shaking til morning,” he mumbled to you. He pushes your back further to flatly lay you down on your stomach, face pressed down on the couch as Heeseung lifted your hips enough for him to see your entrance.

He brushes his tip lightly on your pussy’s lips, sensitive from your previous orgasms, you couldn’t help but to crawl away from Heeseung — not until he pulls you back.

“Still sensitive —” you stopped midway when you could feel his tip protruding your entrance. A muted cry escapes your lips as slowly Heeseung pushes it inside.

“Don’t worry baby, I'll take care of you,” he assured, brushing the stray hairs that covered your face before planting a kiss on your temple.

Heeseung carefully thrust inside until he’s fully sheathed inside you. You could only groan as you feel yourself full. “God — so fucking tight, bet you’re a virgin again because you’re so tight for me.”

Slowly, he began to move, earning moans from you as your sensitive pussy started to shape Heeseung’s huge shaft. Ramming into the places that your fingers couldn’t reach. You could only leave hefty cries as your knuckles turned round from the pleasures.

“Look how your pussy is sucking me in,” Heeseung taunted, slapping your asscheeks once again before gripping the left cheek, turning red against his hands. He could only smirk as he felt nothing but heaven thrusting inside your warm walls. — never in his life would’ve thought that he’ll be fucking his friend’s sister, the one that his friend always told him to stay away.

He’s sorry for breaking the rules, but you were just so fucking sweet and the way your pussy is clench everytime his tip abuses your cervix, he has no remorse to it anymore. All Heeseung knows is that you’re so fucking good for him.

He pulls you upwards, your back pressed against his warm chest. Both sweats started mixing togethers as his arms wrapped around your stomach. That’s when Heeseung continued to thrust faster, eager to leave you breaking into loud cries.

“Feel how you’re taking me baby, you feel so tight that I’m bulging in you,” he whispers to you. His hands press your palms below your stomach, feeling his dick rail you made you moan more louder. Everything just feels so good and you’re just too dazed that the only thing you can feel was how Heeseung’s dick continued to slide through your g-spot.

“Hee —” his right hand started playing with your breasts once again, flicking and pinching your hard nipples as he busied his mouth on your shoulder, leaving kisses and faint marks that had you praying that it wouldn't leave a mark.

“More — please,” you cried as you felt your stomach coiling, your breath becoming louder and heavier as Heeseung became rougher than usual.

“Fuck, you’re coming again baby?” he asked, removing his hands from your tits, he slid it onto your clit, rubbing circles that made you moan. “Go on, cum for me baby.”

Heeseung grabs you by your cheeks, locking you to a torrid kiss. Heavily making out as he thrusts your pussy harder. You’re too fucked-out to kiss him back, moaning on his lips as his fingers rubbed your clit harder.

That’s when your another orgasm came, you felt your body turning into a jelly as you melted onto Heeseung, your body shaking as tears fell from your eyes. Heeseung slowly laid you back but he didn’t stop ramming his dick inside you, his thrust became faster as you could hear his breathing becoming harsh along with soft groans escaping his lips.

Heeseung chases after his orgasm, thrusting inside you a few times before pulling out, you could only whine loudly as Heeseung moans while he pumps his dick through orgasm. Cum spilling all over his hand and painting your ass and back.

It didn’t take a few seconds when you felt Heeseung’s hands on your back, brushing your hair away as he kissed your nape softly.

“You did good,” he whispered to you, planting another kiss on your right temple. “Just stay there okay? Let me clean up the mess.”

You’re too tired and sticky to move. You could only hear Heeseung shuffling to put on his pants as his light footsteps made its way towards the main bathroom — you only lay there naked with nothing but your skirt as everything felt overwhelming to you. Slowly, you closed your eyes, wishing that you’ll be awake by the time Heeseung returns.

Heeseung returns with a wet towel he found inside the bathroom. Noticing that you’ve passed out, he lets it be, knowing that you’re probably too drunk and tired. Carefully he tugs off the spoiled skirt to clean your body, wiping your cunt which made you whine softly by its touch, along with the cum on your back which he made mental notes for him to apologize to you the next time you two meet.

He picked up the discarded clothes on the floor. Cleaning every spot you two have touched, and hopefully it won’t smell like sex and sweat by the morning.

That’s when Heeseung decided to carry you towards your room — the first time he ever did that to a girl he had slept with. He just couldn’t bear to leave you there on the couch especially when Jungwon might walk in later in the morning.

Heeseung places you down on your bed. Looking at your naked figure, he felt a bit ashamed to just leave you like that. Luckily, he found a decent shirt and shorts on your clothing rack. Clothing you before tugging you neatly underneath your blanket.

He stared at you for a good minute. Seeing that you’re peaceful in your slumber, he lightly brushes off your bangs before kissing your forehead.

“Sweet dreams y/n,” he whispered.

“Heeseung…” you mumbled before Heeseung could even open the door.

Heeseung remained quiet, observing if you’re going to say anything. A few minutes had passed and that’s when he twisted the doorknob — seconds just for you to mumble some words again.

“I…like you Hee…” you said. Although it was soft and almost mumble, yet, Heeseung was quick to comprehend what you meant.

He was frozen from where he was standing, his hands remained on the doorknob. Staring at your sleeping figure, wondering if those words meant something.

Your words had Heeseung thinking throughout the weekend.

He remembers the saying, drunk words are sober thoughts. Even if you were intoxicated, he’s not just going to let your words slip away. He wonders if you truly meant those words, or just a whirlwind slip of a post-sex haze.

But the way you said it, mumbling, like you were being careful to say it. Thoughts started clouding in his mind throughout the weekend, he barely had sleep and he wanted to blame you for putting him in that situation.

When Monday arrived, you went to school like a normal student. A bright expression on your face as Heeseung watches you pass by him. Not even a hi or hello. His lips turned thin as he tried to act like you ignoring him didn’t hurt him a little.

Classes went on pretty normal, but Heeseung’s mind is still afloat. Eyes darting towards you every minute, stealing glances on you. But you only had your head low, writing on your Ipad and looking only upward towards the direction of the screen in front, making Heeseung realize that he’s like a fool looking for your attention.

Heeseung isn’t usually like this, so he wonders why he's acting like this. Heart racing, mind afloat, and it’s only your words that kept him occupied.

But it’s right there. The answer is just right there but Heeseung doesn’t want to acknowledge it, somehow a part of him isn’t ready for it. But as he looks at you, a lingering what-if crosses his mind. A thought of committing on to something that he’s been avoiding throughout his college life.

His intuition wanted him to do it, but he’s still holding back, and Heeseung knows that the only solution to it, was you.

That’s why the moment the professor dismissed the class, he hastily placed his things inside his bag before going towards you.

“Y/n,” he called out, almost loudly, that some of his classmates looked at him.

“Hey,” you smiled casually, and Heeseung swore that it almost knocked the breath out of him. Have you always had this effect on him? Why did he just realise it right now?

“Can we talk?” he asked, and saw your eyes surprised by his words.

“Sure,” you only nod before the two of you leave the room, going to a small corner by the hallway.

“About what you said that night,” Heeseung asked. “Is it true?”

You raised an eyebrow, “Did I say something? I barely remember anything even the…you know.”

Heeseung felt like his world crashed. Of course. You’re too drunk to remember everything. Even what you two did, you barely remember, and that made him scoff in disbelief.

“Did I say something weird or?” you asked nervously.

“You said you like me y/n,” Heeseung said in a serious tone. “Now tell me if it’s true.”

Heeseung watches your eyes widen in realization. A breathy curse slipped out of your mouth. That’s when he knew — that’s when his heart also knew.

“Listen y/n, it’s okay, I also —”

“Heeseung, you’re Jungwon’s friend,” you interrupted. “I can’t date you, I really — look, I like you, yes that’s true. But I care more about your friendship with Jungwon, and whatever happened that night. That’s just it, but please don’t tell Jungwon. He’ll get angry at you too. I hope you understand that.”

Heeseung blinks. Looking at your pleading expression, that’s when it hit him that it’s not that Jungwon is caging you, but it’s the fact that your love for your younger brother is stronger than your romantic feelings for him.

You two know that what you did was wrong. Both lines were crossed, and rules were broken. Jungwon trusted him not to go after you, and so do you. It’ll not only ruin friendship but Arcanum. Heeseung knows that you know how much Arcanum means to Jungwon, and it might even result in him leaving the band.

And seeing how you’re willing to set everything aside for Jungwon, Heeseung couldn’t do anything but to admire you — even if it means he will not continue his confession to you.

“Plus, you enjoy being single right?” you said lightheartedly, trying to ease the atmosphere. That’s when it slipped into Heeseung.

An awkward laugh escapes his lips. Ironic because he was planning to throw it away for you, but talking about wrong timing because you got him first. “Right — you’re right. No worries y/n, I won’t tell Jungwon.”

You gave him a smile, patting his shoulders as you mumbled your thanks before leaving him there alone. Watching you walk away, Heeseung could only lower his head as he walked towards the opposite direction — not knowing that you turned your head towards him once again.

That should be it. In the end, the two of you are some ways forbidden because of Jungwon. You’re right. Heeseung knows that he prefers being single. Right? Maybe what he’s feeling right now is just a temporary attachment to you because you two had sex, plus your confession caughting him off-guard. It’ll pass. Hopefully, for him, it’ll pass.

But it didn’t help that a few days after you two had a talk, Heeseung caught you together with Jake.

He knows that you two are orgmates. Coincidentally, you’re Jake’s executive assistant. Heeseung shouldn’t give meaning to it, especially when Jake’s not exempted from Jungwon's rule.

It shouldn’t bother him. Who is he even anyway? An obvious frown forming on his lips when he saw your instagram story with Jake, you two went to eat k-bbq alone. One would think that you two are actually dating. It’s the way that you’re leaning towards Jake who’s smiling widely, holding the barbecue tong. It's cute, but all Heeseung could feel was annoyance.

Heeseung remembered your conversation with him. Out of all Jungwon’s friends, Jake’s your choice to date. And seeing you two together, Heeseung doesn’t know why but there’s a strange feeling growing inside him. Something ugly because why would he feel that to you? Someone who he’s not allowed to date, and to Jake, who is a close friend of his.

He shouldn’t feel that bubbling jealousy brewing inside but it didn’t help that there are days where Heeseung sees Jake waiting outside the department building. Jake would even smile and wave at him who only gives him a small smile back. Then, he watches you pass by him, going straight towards Jake who only ruffled your hair while you punched his shoulders lightly.

Sweet. Way too sweet. Heeseung almost wanted to report you two to the disciplinary officer for pda. But as he watches the two of you walk away while laughing, leaving him alone there standing like a fool, that bubbling feeling continues to grow no matter how hard he concealed it.

It didn’t help either that when they went to your place to practice, he immediately noticed a familiar pair of shoes by the doorway.

“Isn’t that Jake hyung’s shoes?” Riki pointed out.

“Oh right, he told me he’ll be here early, he’s with noona,” Jungwon explained nonchalantly as he removed his shoes.

“How come you’re not wary of Jake being too close with y/n?” Sunghoon asked, but there’s a taunting tone in his words.

“They’re orgmates, y/n noona directly reports to Jake hyung. I trust Jake hyung to not break the rule.” and Heeseung is pretty sure that Jungwon gave him a side eye when he said that.

“So you don’t trust us?” Jay teases.

“I didn’t say that,” the younger one went inside first, while Jay and Sunghoon only laughed at the conversation.

As the rest of them entered the living room, they saw you and Jake by the couch. Heeseung raises an eyebrow, seeing you two together, by the couch — where you and Heeseung fucked, had his jaw tightening. Finding it funny how you pretend that everything’s normal.

Files sprawled all over the coffee table along with some half-full iced coffees and a box of donuts. Jake is seated on the floor, glasses on top of his head with his expression as serious as always. While you’re seated on the couch, still wearing your uniform with your laptop on your lap, typing some documents needed.

“Hi guys!” you greeted them first, with Jake following after.

“Y/n noona! I miss you!” Sunoo shouted with glee, sitting beside you and hugging you sideways. As always, you reciprocate the younger’s action.

Heeseung lightly scoffs at how Sunoo can be so close to you, even hugging you while Jungwon doesn’t bat an eye on it.

“I miss you too Noo, how’s part-timing at The Rabbit Hole?” you asked, shifting your seat to face the sophomore.

“Tiring, the new part-timer was so lazy! I have to multitask with everything,” Sunoo sulks, even pouting as he leans on your shoulder, glancing at your laptop’s screen. “What are you doing?”

“Some inquiries and grievances from students and incoming freshmen. Others wanted to transfer programs and also, student assistant job opening,” you answered before scrolling through your file.

“Soobin hyung wanted us to finish it before the end of the school so that we don’t have to worry about the turnover for the next term,” Jake added, letting out a deep sigh as he grabbed the mountful of papers in front of him.

“Well, we’re not disturbing you guys right? We’re going to start our practice,” Sunghoon asked, setting up in the huge empty space in front of them.

“We can move to the dining room, so that it wouldn’t be too loud — are you okay with it?” Jake suggested, glancing at you who only nodded.

“That would be better, we can continue there,” you answered, knowing that you’re still wary around Heeseung.

As Arcanum set up, you and Jake moved your things on the dining table. From there, you can still hear Arcanum practicing, but with the divider and displays, it’s enough to cover you and Jake for privacy and muffle the sound a little.

You and Jake sat together to continue your reports. Heeseung could only glance at the two of you. Seeing how close you two are, both heads are almost touching. If Jungwon had seen it, he would probably be throwing knives now. But Jungwon was too busy practicing the beat on his drums, and instead of knives, Heeseung’s darkening glare is what’s putting a hole on you and Jake.

He hated how close you and Jake are. He hated how he could hear your soft laughter just by looking at you — and you weren’t looking at him, you’re looking at Jake who’s probably cracking some jokes. He couldn’t believe that for the past few weeks, the two of you were together, but now, you’re with somebody else.

And it’s not just somebody else. It’s Jake. A friend of his, the person you’ll hypothetically date if Jungwon’s rules doesn’t exist. The guy that has more chances of dating you than him —

“Heeseung!” A light kick on the shin snapped Heeseung out of reality, turning to his left where Jay looked at him confused.

“We’re good to go, should we start now?” Jay asked, and that’s when Heeseung realized that he’s been staring for too long.

“Oh — yeah, we’ll start in three,” Heeseung replied, signaling them with a countdown.

Riki and Sunoo cheered for Arcanum, sitting on the couch comfortably while Heeseung tried to focus, closing his eyes as he started to strum his guitar.

“Your type of mind, so hard to find,” he sang, cold yet desperate like he was yearning for someone. A soft yet heartbreaking song to start their practice. He can hear Sunoo’s gasp while Riki lets out a whistle.

Heeseung sings the song with feelings, something about the way he sings a song captivates their audience. But Riki and Sunoo were quick to notice how Heeseung’s eyes kept on looking to his left — by the dining room where you and Jake were seated.

Both sophomores looked at each other, a deciphering stare before glancing back at Heeseung whose eyes are still glued to you. It all circled back to them, realizing that there’s something their friend is hiding.

With the way he sings, it doesn't sound like he’s just covering the song, it felt like every word, every lyric came straight from his heart. And looking at you, they know that he’s dedicating it to you.

As they finished the song, they were quick to start for another song. A low strum on Jay’s electric guitar — different from the first song.

“I wanna be your vacuum cleaner. Breathing in your dust,” Heeseung sang in a low tone.

“Woah, Heeseung hyung’s good,” Sunoo mumbled.

“It’s like he’s captivating someone under his spell,” Riki added, glancing at Sunoo who only nodded, knowing what he meant as the two watched as Heeseung sang. His head turned to his left once again.

“Secrets I have held in my heart, are harder to hide than I thought. Maybe I just wanna be yours,” Staring darkly, as he holds onto the mic stand, head turned towards your direction as he continues the song. Dark and tempting like the original.

As the song finished, the band had a short break. Jay looks at Heeseung, a teasing smirk evident on his lips.

“Seems like your audience is somewhere else,” Jay teasingly said.

“Shut up Jay,” Heeseung brushes it off, but it was evident that he immediately shifted towards your direction once again. Like he was hoping that you’ll turn around.

But not even a spare glance was given to them throughout the whole practice. By the time Arcanum finished their practice, so did you and Jake with your reports. Food arrived a few minutes later and the eight of you spent dinner in the living room.

“Can you hear their practice in the dining room?” Riki asked.

“Yeah, but it’s a bit muffled so it wasn’t distracting us, don’t worry,” Jake answered casually, not noticing how Riki and Sunoo snickered at each other.

“You guys seem to be too busy with your reports, that you guys weren’t distracted by Heeseung hyung’s singing,” Sunoo added, tone hinted in a teasing manner.

“Well, Jake insisted on finishing it tonight, and I heard you guys are drinking after dinner,” you laughed, not being able to catch the sophomore’s tone.

“And we did, because y/n is such a great assistant,” Jake compliments, making the other guys holler in teasing.

“Jungwon, did you hear that?” Sunghoon nudged Jungwon who got confused immediately.

“Hey Jake, don’t forget Jungwon’s rule,” Jay added, earning laughter in the living room — that including you and Jake.

“I only said she’s a great assistant! Is it bad to compliment her?” Jake defensively replied.

Meanwhile Heeseung could only roll his eyes discreetly as he continued stuffing himself with rice. From there, Jungwon chuckles — a different reaction from his usual get-go wherein he’ll be pissed the moment they got linked to you.

“Shut up hyungs,” Jungwon could only say. “By the way, you’re not going to join us noona?”

“I think I’m going to avoid drinking from now on,” you answered, knowing that the last time you drank, disaster happened.

You could hear Heeseung clearing his throat, but you chose to ignore it and took the last bite on your food. Standing up from your seat before thanking them for the dinner, and reminding Jungwon to clean up the mess after.

It was nine in the evening when you decided to call it a night, the remaining of them stayed in the living room with some alcohol to drink the night away. You’ve already known that they’re going to stay overnight — and probably will wake up by lunch.

Saying goodbye to them, even drinking one shot because they insist, you went to your room and had your alone time.

After taking a shower and changing into your sleeping clothes, you grabbed your laptop to do some last minute write-ups. Reviewing every page you’ve written, and then closing the tab to watch some youtube videos.

You don’t know what’s going on downstairs. You sometimes hear their loud laughter and teasing, it was muffled enough for you not to be disturbed, and as the night deepens, the noise downstairs slowly becomes quiet.

That’s when you decided to go to sleep. Closing your laptop, and locking your door. You turned on your nightshade and closed your bedroom’s light. As you nestled underneath your blanket, you closed your eyes, immersing yourself with the silence.

But it didn’t help you relax at all, you can feel your heart beating fast and as you open your eyes, that’s when it hits you that you’re not sleepy yet.

Thoughts running inside your mind that whenever you close your eyes, and shuffle through different positions, you just can’t bear to sleep. You placed your hand on your chest, feeling your heart still palpitating and you’re blaming it on the coffee you bought.

Frustratedly, you sat up to grab your phone, noticing that it’s already past one am.

You don’t know what to do, so you scrolled through your social media in hopes that sleep might knock you down. But minutes turned into an hour and you became frustrated furthermore.

Your frustration was interrupted when a knock on the door startled you. You let out a sigh because you already told Jungwon that he doesn't have to knock on your room if he’s going to inform you that his friends’ are going home.

But instead of your younger brother, your eyes widened when it was Heeseung who’s in front of your room.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, whispering. “You can’t be here!”

“Don’t worry, they’re either passed-out drunk or deeply asleep,” Heeseung laughs, the smell of alcohol reeking on his breath as he leaned on your door frame.

“What do you even want, Heeseung?” you asked, crossing your arms at him.

But Heeseung looks at you drowsily, “you’re one of a kind, you know that?”

You didn’t say a word. Slowly, he enters your room, making you step backward. Quietly, you watch him close the door even locking it — and you let him be. You didn’t stop him nor pushed him away. You remained from where you were standing, because deep inside, you wanted to know why Heeseung suddenly barged into your room in the middle of the night.

“I’m still thinking about that night, about us, everything about us y/n — you’re driving me crazy you know that?” you can hear the frustration dripping on his tone.

“Heeseung, you’re drunk.” you answered instead.

Heeseung only laughs at your words. “Oh no sweetheart, I didn’t even drink that much. So I know damn well what I’m saying, and since you’re sober and completely awake, I’m confident that you won’t run away from me anymore.”

You didn’t say a word. Heeseung gives you a smile. The boyish sweet smile that tugs your heart.

“After you told me that you like me, even though you were drunk, it made me realize something,” Heeseung became quiet for a second. “I really thought about it. Even convincing myself that being single is fun, but fuck it, maybe I prefer being with you.”

It wasn’t a direct confession, but you know what he was trying to say. You stopped your tracks, softly glancing at him who slackens his jaw.

“I was ready to tell you that but you shut me off first, because you know how important Arcanum was, and you don’t want to ruin my friendship with Jungwon.” Heeseung explained, and that’s when it hits you. That talk you two had, he was supposed to say something but you cut him off.

“And I respected that y/n — that even made me admire you more. You were willing to set aside your feelings for Jungwon. I even convinced myself that maybe the single life is for me,” Heeseung heaves out a sigh. Brushing his hair before glancing at you, his eyes darkening.

“Really, I tried my best to respect your decision, but seeing you with Jake? What was that? Are you playing with me?”

“Heeseung —”

But Heeseung lets out a mocking laughter, finding himself stupid for accusing you of that. “Of course you’re not, I’m just overthinking and who am I even to overthink? I’m just your brother’s friend.”

Silence. For a moment, no one said a word. Heeseung approaches you darkly, making you step backward until you hit the edge of your bed, clumsily making you sit at it. Heeseung boldly hovers over you, both arms trapping you as he leans closer to you, face an inch close to you.

“But maybe I don’t want to be seen as your brother’s friend anymore. I want to be yours instead, I want to be your boyfriend.” he whispered to you, surprising you with the statement that your eyes could only widen.

“And I don’t care about Jungwon anymore, he’ll have to fucking live with that fact.” He stated. Heeseung doesn’t care about the consequences anymore. All he wants is you, and if it means ruining friendship, he’ll be willing to fight for your relationship with him.

“Heeseung —”

“Don’t think about Jungwon anymore y/n, I like you — hell, I think I’m in love with you. I want to be yours. Just tell me that you want this too.” Heeseung pleaded, and you just couldn’t believe it. Heeseung begging for your love? You know that this is too good to be true — too good that it’s forbidden at the same time. But as you look at Heeseung’s soft, round bambi eyes, you just couldn’t help but to melt for him.

“I just never thought that you’ll be within my reach.” you confessed, hands cupping his cheeks. “Heeseung, I’ve liked you since we were freshman, but you’re just so unreachable for me.”

“Unreachable? y/n, you’re the unreachable one, you’re basically locked in your younger brother’s rule.”

“Not what I meant but, everything just feels so surreal for me, everything about us — is this even real?” your mind is still clouded, but your heart was racing rapidly. It’s celebrating inside. There were fireworks, butterflies, any fluttering feeling that you can feel to convince you that Heeseung, the guy that you’ve been yearning for years, likes you back.

“I’ll make it real for you then,” Heeseung leans closer, locking you to a kiss. Immediate and hungry, feeling his soft lips against yours made your knees weak, the fluttering feeling becoming too good that your heart is going to burst at that moment. Tasting the alcohol on his tongue as it swipes it lightly on your lower lips. Moaning against your lips as he bites onto your bottom lip harshly that his teeth scratches a wound to it.

You broke from the kiss, catching your breath as you tasted the blood on your lips, but Heeseung grabs your face, pulling you for another kiss. Feverish as he sucks the blood oozing from your lips, making you whine as his tongue laps on the wound.

“You were pretty drunk that night we did it, how about I recreate it for you? Show you that I mean everything?” he swore the moment you two broke the kiss once again.

Gently, he pushes you down to your bed, crawling over you and crashing his lips on yours again. But it’s softer this time, gentle like he’s trying to memorize your lips.

He started peppering you with kisses, full of love as he began lowering his lips on your neck. His lips raveling every skin as he planted marks near your collarbone. One, two, three — until every skin around your neck and chest is full of marks. Heeseung stands up to see his art. Lust-struck stare as he looks at you, teary-eyed and swollen, wounded lips. His heart swells with pride because you’re his to keep.

“God, look at you gorgeous,” he whispered, as he started to unbutton his school uniform. You followed his actions as you sat up from your bed, taking off the thin, old shirt revealing your naked chest underneath.

“Want you,” you told him, round, innocent-like eyes staring at him as you boldly palmed the print of his cock underneath the slacks.

“Go on,” he gestured, giving you a kiss on top of your head as you unzipped his slacks, pulling it down along with his boxers.

Heeseung’s cock sprang free. Your eyes wide at how it’s huge despite being soft. Remembering how it pounded into your holes. Feeling your core pulsing at the sight, wanting for it to be inside you but your mind wants to return the favor. You wanted to pleasure Heeseung like what he did to you.

You started by giving its head soft kitten kisses. Glancing at Heeseung who only nods, hands finding its way towards your hair, holding it like a makeshift ponytail which was your approval. Your tongue started to find its way. Swirling on the tip, salivating every inch it can reach until you gathered enough saliva to drool on his almost hardening cock.

You hold his cock in a soft grip, stroking it as your hand lubricates it with your drool. Looking up at Heeseung with lust-drunken eyes before slowly sinking your mouth on his cock, and Heeseung could only throw his head out of pleasure. A breathy moan escaped his lips as you started bobbing in and out of his cock.

Adjusting to its size, you started slow and gentle, just enough to make him hard. Heeseung’s grip on your hair started to tug, unconsciously pushing your head which made you fasten your pace. Cheeks hollow as your lips sucked him. Tongue trailing along with it, licking its underside.

“Fuck just like that, a pretty girl is sucking me hard,” Heeseung moans as his dick twitch inside your warm mouth. Knowing that it’s been so long since a girl has given him a head, Heeseung would’ve never thought that it’ll end him being sensitive.

You continued bobbing your head, fast and hard leaving Heeseung moaning and whining as he unconsciously bucked his hips towards you. The tip of his dick hitting your throat, making you gag by the action but that didn’t stop you, it only had your cunt throbbing.

“You can be rough with me,” you said as you pulled away from him, something inside you awakened. Teary-eyes looking up at him, and Heeseung swore that you even looked prettier than ever.

“You sure? I don’t want to hurt you,” Heeseung asked with a worried tone.

You only roll your eyes, “You’re acting like you weren’t rough that night.” you said before you sucked him once again.

“I’m not holding back then,” he started by thrusting his hips inside your mouth, earning another choking gag from you. “You’re so warm, your pretty little mouth is so tight for me too.”

Both hands find its way on your head, holding it steady as he started to fuck your mouth. You could only hold onto his hips for balance as his thrust became fast and harsh that drool started to trail down your chin.

“You feel — fuck,” Heeseung moans. “So good to me — can’t believe you’re mine.” the sounds Heeseung made had you throbbing more than ever. Your eyes are pooled with tears as his bulging head continues to abuse your throat.

“Want you to be inside you,” Heeseung breathes, mercilessly pounding inside you before pulling his dick out of your mouth, leaving you gasping for air.

“Want to come inside you,” Heeseung drunkenly said. Grabbing your chin and wiping the drool away before sloppily giving you a kiss. “Ride me baby, want to see a pretty girl on top of me.”

You hastily remove the rest of your pajamas as Heeseung climbs over your bed, resting on the headboard as he straddles you to his lap. Your wet pussy on top of his dick, grinding on it while both hands are on your waist.

Raising your hips a little, you grabbed Heeseung’ cock to align it on your entrance, whimpering as his bulging tip kissed your pussy’s lips before you slowly sink down, feeling every inch of his dick open your pussy, moaning in pleasure until he’s fully sheathed.

“Heeseung — fuck,” you moaned as you started bouncing up and down. Your walls wet and warm, as his cock slides inside you, feeling him deeper than before. Every inch and veins of his dick is all you can feel as his head continues to kiss your cervix, knocking you out of breath everytime it happens.

Heeseung could only moan loudly as he watched you ride him. You had your head thrown back as your tits bounced in front of him. He could get off just by watching you. His pretty girl, riding his dick, whining loudly as you continued to call his name — not caring about whether Jungwon or his other friends might hear you.

You let out a yelp when Heeseung smacks your ass cheeks, his smirk widening as he meets you thrust, bucking his hips upwards. Vulgar sounds and body slapping against each other echoed around the room as the two of you continued to drown into each other’s pleasure.

Heeseung adjusted his position, sitting up and pulling you closer to him. Stopping your movement when you feel him wraps his arms around you. Coming face to face with you, Heeseung could only smile as he swiped your hair that was stuck on your face, making you fawn a smile.

“Can’t believe your mine,” he said excitedly, like he was a high school kid, making you laugh before cupping his face, cheeks squeezing which delighted you more.

“I’m yours Hee,” you mumbled, and you can’t believe that those words came out from your mouth.

Heeseung pulled you to a loving kiss, before he started thrusting inside. With him continuing your movement, you remove yourself from him before resting your head on his shoulder as your hands find their way on his back. Nails scratching as the pleasure became too intense to you.

Loud moans and whimpers continued to fill the room. You cried to his ears as your nails pressed harder on his back. Tears falling away from your eyes as Heeseung felt you twitch above him, slowly not being able to bounce on him as your toes started curling.

“You want to cum pretty girl?” he whispered to you, and you could only nod feverishly, making Heeseung thrust harder than before, adjusting his pace until his cocks slid into your most sensitive spot.

“Heeseung — ah!” you choke out a moan as your orgasm came in just a glimpse. Your body was shaking, holding Heeseung tightly while his thrust became faster, chasing after his orgasm, which made you cry harder.

“Hee — inside” you cried. “Inside please — ugh, want to feel you.”

Fuck. Heeseung curses internally. You just can’t say that and expect him to act rationally. With the way your pussy’s sucking him in had his dick twitching. Heavy groans and whimpers escaping his lips as he continued to fuck your overly sensitive inside.

In a minute, Heeseung groans loudly as he spills his warm seeds inside you, making you moan in pleasure, as he continues to thrust you until he’s too tired to move.

For a moment, none of you moved, Heeseung held you tightly as he caught his breath. His dick still inside yours, twitching and sensitive. So warm for him that he just wanted to be inside you. Heeseung lays down in bed along with you. Everything was sticky and warm, but you two didn’t care. The only thing you can feel was Heeseung’s warmth and the faint beating of his chest.

“What now?” you asked, clarity finally getting inside your senses.

“Well —” Heeseung groans as your hips unconsciously move. “Don’t move, you’re making me hard.”

But you smile at him evilly, grinding at him who let out a soft moan.

“Stop that — fuck.”

“Or what?”

Heeseung glares at you. And before you could say another word, he grabs you by your waist and pushes you down with your back hitting the mattress. Heeseung hovers over you as he does an experimental thrust inside you, making you whine.

“You’re going to pay for this,” Heeseung swore, and you can only chuckle as you feel him hardening inside you.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” you said, hands finding the back of his hair and pulling him down for a kiss.

Surely, it was a long night for the two of you.

You stared at Heeseung’s sleeping figure. Peaceful and gentle as your hands reached for it, trailing on his messy hair. The way his cheeks are squeezed against the pillow, soft lips pouting in default. Heeseung looks so pretty and you can’t believe that this is the first thing you saw the moment you open your eyes.

You don’t know what time it is. All you know is that it’s morning. The sun is up, and the spring breeze passes through your window’s curtain. Underneath the sheets were your naked bodies, warm and sticky, yet intimate to feel.

It’s been a few minutes since you woke up, and unlike the last time when you woke up alone, Heeseung is right next to you. You were staring at him for so long that you know that you’ll look like a creep, but it’s the morning haze that has your mind still unwinding everything that happened. That’s why it’s still not sinking into you that Heeseung is sleeping beside you.

It’s as if he felt your gaze, Heeseung’s lips curved into a smile. Your eyes widened when you felt his arms pulling you towards him, head resting on his chest as you two bathed in the warm sunlight passing through the window.

“You’re going to melt me with your stare,” Heeseung mumbled.

“Sorry, I just — haven’t sinked in everything,” you replied.

Heeseung softly chuckles, a soft kiss planting on top of your head as he caresses your hair, “you want to do it again?”

“We had enough Hee!” you said immediately, punching his chest which only made him laugh.

“I’m just kidding,” he said, resting his chin underneath your head.

Silence faltered the room. Only your soft breathing can be heard, Heeseung’s hands continue to caress your hair while as you rest on his chest, you can feel his heartbeat — faster than usual, and you wonder if it’s because of you.

“We should go on a date,” Heeseung suggested. “Our first official date as a couple, what do you think?”

“That would be nice,” you whispered.

“Should we do it later? It’s a Saturday, do you want to go out or stay indoors? Oh wait — do you want to go to other museums? Oh maybe we should try those painting sessions with wine.”

You only laughed at his words. “You’re taking this seriously.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I am so happy that you’re my girlfriend now, we’re going to do everything together~”

“That has a nice ring on it boyfriend,” you look at him before giving a quick kiss. “How about we decide on that later? For now, let’s just stay like this for a while.”

Heeseung nods, closing his eyes as he pulls you closer to his touch. The solemn silence hovering as both hearts hold each other dearly. Everything feels like a dream. You felt peaceful not until a loud banging on the door startled you. That’s when you remember —

“Heeseung hyung! I know you’re in there!” you scrambled from your position as a familiar voice boomed outside your room, but Heeseung remained unfazed.

“Jungwon might see us!” you panicked, trying to look for your clothes on the floor.

“He’ll live,” Heeseung drowsily said, grabbing you and trapping you in his arms. “Let’s just rest here for a while.”

“Heeseung! Can we at least get dressed!?” you shouted, glancing at the door wherein any minute now, your younger brother will barge in.

But a teasing smile formed on your boyfriend’s lips, kissing the end of your nose as he snuggled you closer like you’re his teddy bear. “Don’t worry about that.”

“Heeseung hyung! You’re dead to me — what the fuck!?” The banging stopped, but you can hear shouting and cursings from the outside, along with Sunghoon’s loud laughter followed by a light scowling from Sunoo.

“Don’t worry about Jungwon! But you owe us one, asshole!” Jay shouted through the door.

“Holy fucking shit, he’s like a wild cat,” Jake laughs.

“What the hell, Jungwon hyung scratched me!” Riki shouted.

You don’t know what’s happening outside, they’re probably tackling your younger brother. You can hear Heeseung snickering as he lightly sways you, assuring you that everything will be alright. You glance at him, he has a soft smile on his lips making you melt. Slowly, your worries disappear as you feel safer in Heeseung’s hold.

Epilogue.

“Decelis are you ready!?” Heeseung shouted through the mic.

School has just ended. Fortunately, you’ve passed the second semester with ease. Now, you’re anticipating the two month vacation before senior year arrives. Feeling a rush of excitement and nervousness because next year is going to be your last year in college.

But for now, you’re with the thousands of students, at Decelis University’s open field. It’s the annual year-end concert. A celebration for the success of the end of an academic year. Decelis typically invite bands and singers to perform — of course, Arcanum was part of the line-up.

You screamed along Karina and Yunah as Jay opened the performance with a one-minute guitar solo, shouting “Are you ready to rock!?” causing everyone to scream louder. You could only fawn over the boy who’s rocking the stage while your boyfriend ran around the stage, dancing freestyle along the beat.

You watched as Heeseung returned to the center, placing the mic on the stand before he started singing It’s not living (If it’s not with you) by The 1975. His voice filled the whole place as cheers became loud the moment he sang the first line.

“That’s my boyfriend!” you shouted, making Yunah and Karina tackle you teasingly.

“We get it! Gosh, you won this one, y/n,” Karina teased.

“You managed to bag the most wanted guy in Decelis, I think we need tips from you,” Yunah added.

“I think you should stop playing with fire, and just tell him what you feel instead,” you replied to Yunah who only rolled her eyes.

“I’ll just die instead,” she nonchalantly replied. Glancing back at the led screen wherein they’re showing Jungwon who’s too immersed with playing the drums.

After the first song, Sunghoon immediately shifted the vibe by playing a soft intro of a familiar song. Heeseung smiles as he places his hand on the mic stand.

“We’re going to change the vibe from here, any lovers around here?” and he boldly raised his hands, earning screams from the crowd. A few students raising their hands while single people are booing jokingly.

The smile on Heeseung’s lips turned wider as he feels along with the song, “Feel like sun on my skin

So this is love, I know it is.”

You only stood there, watching as Heeseung continued singing. Even dancing along with it, pretending like the mic stand is his partner. Swinging it lightly as he turned his attention towards the crowd once again. A smirk on his lips as he winks flirtily.

“Gosh, and he wonders why hundreds of girls are head over heels to him,” you stated.

“And sadly, he’s not available anymore!” Karina shouted. “Seriously, we need a crowning moment for you.”

Your relationship with Heeseung wasn’t that officially launched. It’s not that you two decided to keep it secret, but you two don't see the need to officially launch it. Let people wonder. You two menacingly agreed. Only your close friends knew about you two being a couple.

Of course, some small public displays of affection weren’t subtle like the way you two are now seated together in the classroom, or some people seeing Heeseung carrying your bag. — it’s safe to say that people are quick to conclude that you two have something going on. If it’s serious or not, that’s what they don’t know.

“Thank you so much Decelis University for having us here. We are really happy to perform in front of you guys, your energy gives us energy, but sadly we only have one last song left,” Heeseung stated after finishing another song, earning a few “awww” and “noooo” from the crowd, even chanting for one more song.

“For the last song, this one is our very first composed song. We dedicated our time in composing and writing the lyrics, and this is the first time we will be performing it. So hopefully, you guys will love it.” Heeseung explained, his smile turning wide like he was proud to introduce the song.

“More like you wrote the lyrics,” Jay pointed out, which made the crowd scream. “The things love do, am I right?” and that made the crowd scream louder.

Heeseung only laughs, he didn’t even try to ignore it at all. “Are you ready for a serenade, Decelis?”

For a moment, there was silence. Shortly, a few strums from Heeseung’s guitar escape as he softly hums to the mic. His eyes closed like he’s feeling along with the song.

He started the verse with a soft tone. Dearly like he’s dedicating the song to someone. You’re not slow to pick up the lyrics of the song. It meant something and that’s when you can feel your heart start beating fast. You only stood there, frozen as you watched your boyfriend sing in front of a thousands of crowd.

“I want you to know, I love you the most, I'll always be there right by your side,” Heeseung sings, opening his eyes and even though you’re far from the stage, and even if you’re just watching him from the screen, he smiles widely like he’s staring at you.

“'Cause baby, you're always in my mind, just give me your forever.” You can feel your heart tugging. It swells with joy as you watch your boyfriend sing his love for you in front of a crowd. His heavenly voice swooning every student, especially you. He continued singing, mesmerizing the crowd with how he sang it — like he’s swearing his vows for you.

“Just give me your forever.” he sang one last time before taking a bow.

Cheers started to become louder. Continuous screams from the student as they started chanting Arcanum’s name. Heeseung could only smile as he gestured to his friends to take the center for a short photo time and final goodbye.

It didn’t sinked into you that Arcanum just finished their set. It was until Karina and Yunah pulled you to go towards the department building that serves as a backstage area because you promised Heeseung that you’ll be meeting them afterwards.

You found them in one of the classrooms, laughing as they stuffed themselves with snacks prepared by the university. As soon as Heeseung sees you, his smile widens as he walks towards you before pulling you to a hug, even carrying you and twirling you like you two are the only people in the room.

“Okay that’s enough, give respect to single people here!” Jay shouted but his words slipped out of your ears when Heeseung pulled you for a kiss, soft and eager, earning mixed reactions from the people inside.

“I can’t believe I’ll be seeing this for the rest of my life,” Jungwon cringed.

“You’ll live,” Yunah taunted, sticking her tongue out to the drummer who only rolled his eyes.

“The song —” you breathe the moment you two broke the kiss, “you wrote the lyrics?”

“You like it?” Heeseung asked, thumb grazing your cheeks.

“I love it! It’s beautiful,” you smiled.

“It’s for you.”

That’s when you took a step back, eyes wide but filled with happiness as you could only smile wider, squishing your boyfriend’s soft cheeks which is a form of endearment for you.

“I can’t believe you.” you giggled.

“Did you even hear what Jay said?” Heeseung mumbled, grabbing your cheeks the same way, before planting a kiss on your lips one more time.

“Of course,” you grinned. “Just want to hear it from you.”

“Stop that you guys! Or we’ll have to report you for pda!” Karina shouted, along with the others throwing tissues and some light stuff which you two avoided — even Jungwon didn’t hesitate to throw his drumsticks at the two of you.

But the two of you only laughed at their antics. Heeseung gives you a sweet kiss on your temples, as he puts his arms around your shoulders, holding you dearly.

And as you glance at him, you could only rest your head on his shoulder, fiddling with his hands resting on your shoulder — a way for you to feel that Heeseung is yours, at arms length on your reach.

545 notes · View notes

chuhees · 2 months ago

Text

❛ FIRSTS WITH JAY ★

𝗟𝗔𝗖𝒪𝗡𝗜𝗖 ────𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗃𝖺𝗒

◜ᯅ◝ 【 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝓞 】 pjs + fluff 𝟐𝟐𝟐 && brief mention of sleeping together, be cautious when reading, skin2skin, argument mention⟢ cl𝓲ck

𝘀𝗮𝘃: happy jongseong day ! i love jay hehe, i had so much fun writing this … umm im currently sick (boooo)

𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

you and jay met in a coffee shop, you were preparing for a big interview that day and you needed a drink to calm yourself down. when you opened your wallet to get an extra dollar, you realized you didn’t have one. that’s when the male behind you kindly offered to pay for your drink as a whole. you were flattered by the kind gesture, and he offered to help you prep for your interview. you traded numbers and went your own way, later texting jay that you got the job. from that moment on, jay has always been your biggest cheerleader. jay will always text you, asking if you had plans. it was something about jay always wanting to see you, that finally made you say yes to a date with him. he was charming, sweet, and super considerate.

𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

your first date with jay was very romantic, to say the least. jay wears a black button up, his hair styled, making an effort with his appearance. behind his back, was a large bouquet of roses. jay takes you to his favorite five star restaurant, a restaurant he’s only ever taken his mother to. he pulls out your chair for you, instantly telling you “you look so beautiful tonight.” you don’t even touch your food when it gets to the table, as you caught up in conversation after conversation. jay wants to learn everything about you, from your childhood, to your favorite foods, and even what you do in your spare time. jay’s love language is definitely learning more about his potential partner, and sending quality time. even though it was the first date, it definitely wasn’t going to be the last. jay places his jacket over your shoulders, after watching you shiver a little. jay also wipes your lipstick when it smudges from eating.

𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒

a simple little movie night in jay’s apartment, that’s all you thought it would be. it was just the two of you on his couch, a half eaten bowl of popcorn, and a blanket thrown over your laps. you sat close together, close enough that your arms touched. half way through the movie, jay’s arm found its way behind you, testing the waters. you only leaned in closer, your bodies now at a close proximity. as the ending credits rolled, you turned to jay—possibly to say something silly, when his eyes were already on you. jay buried his face into your neck, inhaling your scent. “you smell so good.” he murmurs, his voice lower than usual. jay then places a soft kiss onto your neck, his eyes then met your lips. the kiss was soft, not rushed. “i’ve been waiting to do this, since the moment i’ve met you.” you smiled, kissing him one more time. you placed your head on his shoulder, a satisfied sigh escaping your lips.

𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄

this particular night, jay decided to cook for you. no dinner reservations, no fancy restaurant, just something simple, yet delicious. as you two cleaned up, you sat on the counter besides jay, drying every dish he washed. “dinner was amazing.” you smiled, drying off the pasta pan. “i wanted to impress you.” jay replied, not looking up from the dishes, but you could hear the smile in his voice. when jay handed you the final dish, his fingers lingered on yours, his eyes met yours. you didn’t say anything, only pulled him closer. jay stepped in between your legs, hands resting lightly on your thighs. he leans in slowly, kissing you. from a few hungry, slow kisses, you found yourself being carried to his bedroom. jay gently placed you on his bed, he begins unbuttoning his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders revealing his muscular form. “are you sure about this?” jay asks, making sure you were on the same page. you nod “yes.” slipping your shirt over your head, revealing your soft skin.

𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

you woke up, wrapped in jay’s embrace. his arms around your waist, your back pressed against his chest. “morning.” you hear him murmur sleepily against your skin, placing a delicate kiss to your shoulder. “hungry?” jay asks. “i’ll make us breakfast.” jay spends a few moments enjoying your body pressed to his, before he gets up and goes to his closet. jay pulls out one of his white tshirts. “you look beautiful in my clothes.” jay smiles, helping you fix your hair. you follow him into the kitchen where he begins making pancakes, a fruit bowl, and some coffee. you sit on the counter, watching him like it’s a routine. jay picks a strawberry onto a fork, bringing it to your lips. “try it, it’s really sweet.” you taste the strawberry, a smile on your face as the flavors melt away on your tongue. “that is amazing.” at the table, you and jay sit down, enjoying the well prepared meal. “slept good last night?” he asks, cutting your pancakes. “best sleep ever.” you smiled, sipping on your coffee.

𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

you didn’t mean to fight with jay. it started with small things like canceling plans, you understood he was busy, but it still hurt every time. when you finally decided to say something, your voice came off sharper than you even thought it could. jay stood there, quietly. that silence hurt you. he just stood there, his fists clenched to his side, jay tense. you hated the feeling if your throat tightening, you hated how his silence made everything louder. “i’m not mad that you were busy.” you said, your voice low, now trembling. “i’m upset because it feels like i’m not a priority anymore.” jay looks up, his eyes no longer cold—more so guilty and sad. “i didn’t know you felt this way.” jay pulls you close to him, a tight embrace that slowly yet surely made everything better. “i thought you understood. that i didn’t have to always say it.” you bury your face into his shirt, seeking the comfort you needed. “i do understand, i just need to hear it sometimes.”

537 notes · View notes

leejenowrld · 1 year ago

Text

my first and last (m)

pairing lee jeno x reader

word count 37k

synopsis meet lee jeno, campus heartbreaker, fuckboy, secret nerd. he’s the notorious guy that everyone wants but he only wants you —a shy, introverted stranger who appeared from nowhere, turning his life upside down. what starts as a reputation-defying connection swiftly evolves from strangers to friends and to intense, immediate love. it’s a twist the two of you never saw coming, the opening of your hearts to someone unexpected. but as personal struggles and external issues threaten to derail your connection, the once-confident jeno is left shattered and ensnared in the tumult of a love story gone awry.

chapter warnings first love au, irrelevant exes, explicit language, swearing, mentions of intense anxiety, drugs, alcohol, your average college au, opposite of slow burn, fluff which will make you scream, romantic jeno, loving jeno, a jeno who doesn’t really gaf about anyone but his girl, sweet boyfriend jeno, bestie yeonjun, yn and jeno paired for a uni project, touchy jeno, oral sex (receiving), throat fucking, blow job, hard dom jeno, sub reader, soft dom jeno, choking, riding, most loving kisses, reader sits on jenos face hehe, cute sex under the starlight on jenos trunk, jeno who rips off lingerie, protective jeno, jeno is horny, and a lot, his emotions, heart are all 110%, rough sex, choking, dirty talk, cute dates, girls who are bitches to yn :(, a jeno who gets so heartbroken and done dirty you’ll feel bad! gift giving, romantic gestures bf jeno

genre smut, fluff, angst, strangers to friends to lovers, opposites attract

please leave asks !!

check out the mfal ml here includes text posts, never seen before scenes and behind the scenes content <;3

✧ ✧ ✧

Walking onto campus, you take in the sights of the renowned university. The buildings exude academic excellence, and the lush greenery adds a touch of serenity. Despite the early hour, the campus is alive with students hurrying by, creating a vibrant atmosphere.

Heading towards the director's office, you enter the building, sensing the prestige in the air. Portraits of distinguished alumni line the walls, and the marble-floored corridor echoes with the soft sounds of footsteps.

As you approach the director's office, you're called in for your meeting, and a wave of nervousness washes over you. You keep your head low, arms crossed over your body and walking steadily calculated. You instinctively avoid making prolonged eye contact with others, instead of maintaining a steady gaze, your eyes started to dart away, seeking solace in the periphery.

The director's office door swings open, revealing Johnny Suh, a figure synonymous with success in the academic world. Young, rich, and undeniably handsome, his reputation precedes him. Though you hadn't initially seen the appeal, you find yourself momentarily awestruck by his commanding presence, his handsomeness leaving you astonished.

He spent a few minutes welcoming you to the University, giving some background information and useful tips that you were incredibly thankful for. Then the conversation takes a swift turn.

"Y/N, I hear you're one of the top psychology students in the country.” Johnny remarks, his voice carrying an air of authority that matches his status.

Humbled but unable to deny the truth, you nod in acknowledgment. "I'm honoured you acknowledge that.”

"It's your first day here, and I know you're probably not expecting this, but I see high potential in you," Johnny continues. "I wouldn't recommend this if I didn't believe you could handle it. It's going to be tough, but your strong work ethic, dedication, and time management will be of great assistance."

Confusion clouds your expression as Johnny hints at a challenge ahead. Before any clarification can be offered, the door swings open again, revealing a figure you immediately find intriguing. He enters with an air of nonchalance. His hooded eyes, half-asleep gaze, and ruffled, messy hair add to his effortlessly handsome appearance.

Dressed casually yet impeccably, his cheeks are hollow, and his sharp jawline gives him an alluring edge. There's an enigmatic darkness about him that you can't quite explain but find strangely magnetic. His attire is a perfect blend of casual and put together, highlighting his innate sense of style.

He looks right at you, and his gaze is captivating and strong. You feel an unexpected flutter as your eyes meet, his presence leaving an indelible mark on your first day. As your eyes meet, a surge of surprise flickers in his gaze, and you, feeling an unexpected flutter, try to conceal the sudden shyness.

He takes the vacant seat beside you, eyes not leaving yours and you almost feel your heart stop. He’s even more breathtaking in person. His allure is heightened, perhaps by the subtle nuances of his expressions, the captivating way he carries himself,

“You’re new?” he asks, his voice low and thick with a hint of weariness.

You nod, meeting his intense gaze. “Y/N.”

“Jeno.” he replies, a small smile playing on his lips.

Professor Suh stood at the front of the room, "Welcome, Y/N and Jeno. I'm thrilled to have you both on board for this groundbreaking project that merges engineering and psychology, your respective majors. Your unique skill sets will be crucial in creating something truly impactful."

“Jeno, your unexpected excellence in engineering sets you apart without the need for boasting. Your laid-back energy and ability to achieve high results with minimal effort make you an ideal candidate for this project. You'll complement Y/N's hardworking and determined nature as a perfect counterpart.”

“Y/N, on your first day as a transfer, my meticulous examination of your records and discussions with past professors leave me with no doubt about your suitability for this project. Your dedication, serious approach to education, and future planning give me high hopes. The stark difference between your hard work ethic and Jeno's laid-back attitude is precisely why I envision a successful collaboration. Jeno's ease will balance well with your commitment, creating a synergy that I believe will lead to exceptional outcomes. I look forward to seeing how your distinct qualities contribute to the success of this endeavour.”

He paced back and forth, gesturing to the screen displaying images of urban spaces and people engaging with technology. "We're embarking on an innovative project that centres around Virtual Reality Therapy. This groundbreaking initiative involves harnessing virtual reality technology to craft therapeutic environments for individuals dealing with stress, anxiety, or specific psychological conditions. Y/N, given your background in psychology, your insights are pivotal. I encourage you to delve into understanding how people emotionally, socially, and culturally interact within these virtual therapeutic spaces as we pioneer this transformative approach."

Addressing Jeno, Professor Suh continued, "Jeno, your engineering expertise will play a vital role in translating the technical facets of our vision into reality. From efficient infrastructure to sustainable solutions and cutting-edge technology, I anticipate your innovative touch to shape and elevate this project."

As the excitement filled the room, Professor Suh's expression turned serious. "Now, a crucial point to address. Y/N and Jeno, I appreciate your collaboration, but it's important to maintain a professional boundary. Given the nature of this project, a personal relationship could introduce biases and conflicts of interest. Therefore, I must emphasize that you both cannot engage in a romantic relationship during the course of this project. We need clear focus and objectivity to make this endeavor a success."

The room fell momentarily silent as the weight of the statement settled. Professor Suh concluded, "I believe in your capabilities, and I'm confident that together, you can create something remarkable. Let's make a difference, not just in engineering and psychology, but in the lives of those who will benefit from our work."

Professor Suh continues with a firm but encouraging tone, “I expect each of you to approach this project with the dedication you’d give to a cherished hobby. I’ll be monitoring our progress weekly, and I want to see a well-structured timetable in place to ensure we’re on track.”

As the words lingered in the air, you were amazed. Your eyes reflected genuine enthusiasm for the challenge ahead. The prospect of making a positive impact resonated with you, and a subtle smile played on your lips.

On the other hand, Jeno wore an expression of the opposite. This collaborative endeavor seemed to hold little interest for him, and an air of mild dread crossed his features. The idea of putting in effort didn't align with his usual laid-back demeanor.

In this moment of contrasting emotions, you and Jeno shared a glance. Your bright-eyed enthusiasm met his more reserved skepticism. There, in that silent exchange, an unspoken understanding unfolded—an acknowledgment of your differing perspectives yet a recognition of the collaborative journey you were about to embark on. The dynamics between you two already hinted at the intriguing challenges that lay ahead.

Leaving the office together, you assumed Jeno, with his tired demeanor, would head off on his own. To your surprise, he turns to you, his hooded eyes meeting yours. The weariness in his expression contrasts with the kindness in his gaze, and your assumption fades as he wears a faint but warm smile.

In the dim light of the corridor, both your eyes meet, and unexpectedly, Jeno speaks, "It's your first day. Do you want me to show you around?" His voice, though a bit tired, carries a genuine offer.

You smile instinctively, grateful for the unexpected gesture. You nod.

Little did you know, Jeno's offer wasn't just about preventing you from getting lost. As he walks beside you, pointing out different buildings and sharing anecdotes, it becomes evident that he's intrigued by you. His questions about your interests and the way he attentively listens reveal a curiosity that goes beyond the simple act of guiding a new student. There's a subtle connection forming, and as you chat and laugh, the initial weariness in Jeno's eyes seems to fade, replaced by a genuine interest that neither of you can quite explain.

As Jeno points out various architectural details, his words flow with a quiet eloquence. "This is probably my favourite building, it’s a blend of neoclassical and modernist elements, I love the contrast. Can you see how the columns, though contemporary, draw inspiration from classical Greek design?”

Though you're not particularly interested in the intricacies of architecture, you find yourself captivated by the way Jeno speaks. His words, delivered with a smooth cadence, reveal a depth of understanding and an understated intelligence that intrigues you. You tune in more to the cadence of his voice, the rise and fall of each carefully chosen word, than to the specifics of the buildings he's describing.

"This structure is known for its sustainability," Jeno continues, gesturing towards another building. "The architect prioritized energy efficiency through the use of eco-friendly materials and innovative ventilation systems."

You nod, pretending to absorb the architectural information, but in reality, you're more attuned to the way Jeno effortlessly conveys his knowledge. His eloquence paints a picture of someone who possesses not only a keen eye for design but also a refined ability to articulate complex concepts. In the midst of the architectural tour, you find yourself appreciating not just the buildings but the subtle intelligence that radiates from Jeno's well-spoken descriptions.

There’s another reason why you feel out of tune when he’s speaking, it’s because all you can feel is stares. As you walk beside Jeno, so many peering eyes follow your direction, the weight of gazes lingers, making you feel out of tune with his words. The countless stares create a sense of unease, prompting you to cut him off. "Why is everyone staring?" you ask Jeno, confusion evident in your voice.

"They're not," he shakes his head reassuringly, but you know better – they are. He offers a kind smile, attempting to soothe your discomfort. "You're just shy. It's your first day."

Jeno notices subtle signs of distress in you as your hands tremble, breaths quicken and a flicker of unease in your eyes. Despite not fully understanding the reasons, an instinctive urge compels him to offer comfort. Maybe it's the sincerity in your gaze or the vulnerability that surfaces.

Jeno’s hand delicately finding its place on your chin. Panic seizes you, and your eyes widen in response to the unexpected touch. Yet, as your gaze meets his, a juxtaposing warmth begins to unfold. It’s a warmth you can’t quite explain, a comforting sensation that weaves through the panic.

His soft yet dark eyes look deep into yours. Jeno’s voice, a seductive and hushed whisper, slices through the ambient noise. “Just keep looking at me. Keep your eyes on me.” His words intensify the warmth, a juxtaposition to the escalating panic within you. It’s as though Jeno’s mere presence, coupled with his soothing touch and whispered guidance, forms a shield against the prying stares.

In that moment, the panic subsides, and your attention becomes tethered to Jeno. There’s an unspoken understanding in his gaze, a silent promise that despite the sea of eyes, his focus is a haven of reassurance. The inexplicable warmth persists, becoming a sanctuary within the storm of attention, and you find solace in the connection he forges amidst the overwhelming gaze of others.

Your first impression of Lee Jeno is so good. Truthfully, you’re not a people’s person. You stay to yourself, you have an incredibly small circle and you don’t particularly enjoy socialising, you rather stay inside and read a book or study. You didn’t expect to bond with someone on your first day like you had bonded with Jeno. You learned a considerable amount about him. He loved architecture even though he studied engineering, he was quite a nerd. He wants to be a pilot when he graduates, his favourite food is sushi (like yours) and he has an older sister. You even exchanged numbers, you told him to text you whenever he had a question about the project.

A sigh of relief escapes as you finally step into the comforting embrace of your home. Your social battery is drained, and with each steady breath, you revel in the tranquillity within familiar wall, immediately heading over to the fridge for some comfort food.

Proud of yourself, you reflect on succeeding through the challenges of your first day in a completely new city and university. There's a sense of accomplishment in not retreating to the bathroom but facing the day head-on. Making a friend, or at least someone you're excited about, (you’re not sure if he counts as a friend yet).

Truthfully, you find yourself thinking about him, Jeno. A smile lingering on your face like an idiot. The moment you sink into your bed, the cushions engulfing you, you can't contain the giddy excitement. Kicking your feet like a teenager, you revel in the warmth of the accomplishment.

Sure, he may be dreamy and handsome, and you playfully curse yourself for finding him so but hey, you're just a girl, and there's a certain charm in embracing those girly feelings amidst the challenges of a new day.

As you're about to dim the lights and start your favorite romcom, "Notting Hill," the ambiance carefully set with food and opening credits, the front door slams, causing you to nearly drop your bowl of popcorn. Startled, you turn to find your roommate, Choi Yeonjun, entering. His features look shocked, and your gaze instinctively scans the room before freezing when you realize his intensity is directed at you.

Without a greeting, his loud voice rings through the room, "Why the hell am I hearing that Lee Jeno walked you around campus this morning?"

You raise your brows in confusion. How did he find out? "Is he some celebrity or something?"

Yeonjun chuckles, giving you a judgmental look, treating your question as if it's the most absurd thing he's ever heard. "News travels like the plague when it’s concerning Lee Jeno, Y/N. He's a big deal, the campus enigma. Probably the most popular and wanted guy around. He and his friends practically rule the institution. Notorious, but in a good way. He's like that guy in teen movies. He throws parties and he fucks everyone. Are you seriously telling me you don’t know? Didn't everyone stare?"

Your mouth widens in shock, you genuinely thought that Yeonjun was lying but it’s clear he’s not. Jeno had seemed like the most far from popular person ever, he seemed down to earth and friendly and he was such a nerd! The mental image of Jeno walking you around campus this morning, discussing architecture with genuine passion, clashes with the idea of a campus legend. He had felt so approachable, and the revelation triggers a whirlwind of thoughts as you grapple with this unexpected side of him. The stark contrast between perception and reality leaves you in a state of genuine disbelief.

You answer your roommate's question after a while of silence. “Everyone was staring but he just brushed it off while I was shitting myself. It makes sense now! He acted so calm because he’s used to the stares.”

Red rose to your cheeks as you thought about his sweet gesture earlier, a smile plastered on your smile. “He was really sweet though, he reassured me in such a cute way, his hands touched my face and he whispered in my ear –”

Yeonjun screams and it gives you whiplash. “GIRL! NO!” He shakes his head, acting as if you’re committing arson.

“Why not?” You question, your voice a low whisper as you frown.

Yeonjun is flabbergasted as he explains. “He’s a player, he’s a fuckboy. He practically fucks anyone with a pussy and apparently he doesn’t get into relationships. Plus, apparently he can be really intense and full on, especially when he’s high, yeah, he gets high and wasted. He throws all these notorious parties and to be fair, I’ve been to some of them and they’re great but it’s a lot of drugs, alcohol, smoking and couples fucking. I’m not kidding. He’s very extroverted and confident but in quite a sexy and slick back way, yeah he’s really fucking hot and I can see that you already think that. I just think you should keep your distance, Y/N, if I’m being honest, he’s the opposite of you.”

The weight of Yeonjun’s words settles heavily in the room, leaving you in another silence. The dissonance between the Jeno you thought you knew and the reality presented by Yeonjun leaves you grappling with a mix of shock, disappointment, and a lingering sense of disbelief.

Yeonjun apologizes when he senses your mood shift, but you brush it off, recognizing it's not his fault. You thank him for being a good friend and giving you a heads up.

As your roommate, Yeonjun is the opposite of you—outgoing, always taking you out to explore the city, and a great person to chat with. He has a boyfriend named Soobin, who happens to be an excellent cook. Despite how loud they are and the amount of times you’ve walked into them in questionable positions, you can't help but envy their relationship—they're your idea of couple goals.

✧ ✧ ✧

The professor, passionately discussing human interactions, captivates your attention until the door swings open abruptly. Your eyes widen as you're shocked to find Jeno entering, eyes locking onto yours. He appears well-dressed, his hair slightly messy, tight black shirt and his pupils dilated.

Despite the stares from the seminar attendees, he remains unfazed. "There you are, you gave me the wrong number, you idiot.” he declares, catching you off guard. In this unexpected moment, you reflect on Yeonjun's warning, realizing that Jeno's demeanour speaks volumes—confidence exudes from him. You would’ve never thought this earlier but since Yeonjun’s warning, you’ve been replaying his campus tour in your head and it’s clear that he’s confident, it’s crazy how one opinion can completely transform an existing opinion.

"How did you find me?"

His response is curt, "Doesn't matter. It’s a good time to start on the project now. I’m quite busy for the next few months so I’d be thankful if you were able to dedicate the next month or so to making good progress.” As he seamlessly transitions into discussing the project, he proves to be well-spoken and sweet.

You nod. “Of course.”

He smiles and mutters a thank you. “Give me your phone quickly.” You gulp as he puts his number in your phone, telling you that he’s added the dates to your calendar on when you’ll work together for the project, telling you to message him if you need to adjust them.

He poses the question, "Your house or mine?" An audible gulp escapes you before hesitantly suggesting, "Um… the library?"

Jeno laughs, "Can we talk there?"

You agree, "Okay, then my house."

Without waiting for your reply, he turns around, leaving you to process his abrupt departure. "See you tonight," he calls over his shoulder, disappearing as swiftly as he entered.

✧ ✧ ✧

Jeno has been coming over to work with you nearly every day. He drives.

You’ve grown quite… intrigued (if you say attracted then Yeonjun will get Heejin to hit you) by his kind gestures. He always brings over food and your favourite coffee. You told him your favourite coffee once, it was just something you said in passing and you didn’t expect him to actually remember and then start a ritual of regularly buying it for you.

His company is one that you find yourself growing attached to, you’re comfortable around him. You’re surprised how quickly you’ve gotten used to him, it’s rare for someone like you to warm up to a stranger so quickly.

His work ethic is the main thing that has you incredibly intrigued by him. He’s never late to your study sessions, he’s always engaged and every idea he has exceeds brilliance.

The sides of his lips curve up at your planning. “So cute.” He whispers under his breath, watching you as your brows furrowed in concentration, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when you bring out the right folder, it was a massive baby blue one, labelled ‘Y/N’s and Jeno’s Virtual Reality Therapy project,’ in the most prettiest cursive writing, different types of stickers, butterflies, hearts and ribbons, accessorising the front.

“I have so many folders, I colour coordinate them all but it’s still so difficult to remember which is which.” You say with a heavy puff, Jeno taking the hefty folder from your hands and placing it on the well lit and presented study table in front of you.

He learns that you take studying very seriously, you’re always revising. You take pride in your notes, you gave him a tour of all your revision material and he’s never seen someone talk about studying with such a grin on their face, all your notes were so well written and organised, it gives him a new wave of awe for you.

“So, let’s brainstorm our ideas. So I said that we need to ensure that each virtual space is personalised to resonate with users emotionally, this could involve customizable elements like scents, sounds, and visuals to enhance the therapeutic experience. This helps with mindfulness. We can incorporate guided mindfulness exercises, providing users with tools to manage stress and anxiety within the virtual environment.”

Your lips automatically turn sour when you turn the page over in the written plans you’ve made, Jeno lets out a laugh when he sees why. It’s the engineering side to the project, you’ve made it clear that his major is something that you may never understand and have zero interest in. “I’ll let you talk about these ideas.” You wince, Jeno’s rough handwriting nearly making you cry.

“So we’re gonna implement advanced AI algorithms. These algorithms would adapt to user responses and needs, providing personalised guidance.”

You squeal, nearly jumping out of your seat and he looks at you with amazed eyes. You just had a lightbulb moment. You grin and clap your hands excitedly as you speak. “I just thought of an amazing idea, what if we create a way of facilitating connections among users who share similar therapeutic goals? We should aim to incorporate it, the sense of community can bring people together for additional support, they can assist on each other's journey towards mental well-being.”

Your turn to him pleading, lips in a pout as you give him the cutest puppy eyes you can muster. “Pleaseeee tell me you can make it work from your side, if you so no, I might cry.”

It takes Jeno a while to reply because he’s thinking, thinking about you. No one else would get this happy over thinking of a good idea, he finds you endearing and cute, you’re something that warms any darkness in his heart.

When you call out his name, he finally responds with a nod. “I’ll just need to create a way where users have autonomy to shape their therapeutic experiences and who they want to share it with. I can do that easily with database software, no problem.” You sigh and thank him, turning to the side and watching him as he furrows his nose, jotting down notes, a lot of mathematics and science that looks foreign to you.

“It’s a good idea, Y/N. Therapy is proven to work the best when you have someone to lean on.”

You nod like a siren as he speaks, following every word and never finding a fault, he is so smart. He always has good ideas, you’re amazed at how he can keep up with the psychology side to the project while you struggle to understand the engineering side to it. He works so hard and honestly seeing him in his element has made him even more attractive.

“Let’s take a break.” His words break your enchantment. You nod, he’s consistently been reminding you to take breaks and to be drinking your fluids.

“Do you wanna help Yeonjun cook?” You question, a small smirk playing on your lips at the change in his expression, his eyes lighting up and it makes you laugh hard.

“He’s here?”

“Yeah, he lives here.” You say sarcastically.

Unexpectedly, he, Yeonjun and Soobin get along like they’ve known each other for years. It all started when Yeonjun nearly burned the kitchen down in a cooking disaster. Jeno, like the genius that he is, salvaged the kitchen from going up in flames and salvaged the meal. It was the best meal you’ve had in your life. You’re not surprised that he was a talented chef, you’re growing to learn that he’s good at everything and it’s without effort.

Ever since then, Yeonjun and Jeno have started cooking together. It’s more like Yeonjun failing to follow the recipes, Jeno doing most of the work and then Soobin having to comfort his pouting boyfriend because he just wants to be able to cook one meal without fucking it up. You overhear the three of them in the kitchen sometimes. three people from complete different backgrounds but they bond and share stories, their laughter always making your heart yearn.

You and Jeno have the cooked meal in your room as you were studying at the same time. You grab your phone from your pocket, going onto Instagram and getting the delicious meal in your camera angle. You feel his eyes on you before he speaks. “I wanna follow you.”

You exchanged socials with Jeno and though it was difficult to fully control yourself as he was sitting right next to you, you were so close to hitting your head against a wall, anything to stop your head from buzzing.

The first thing you notice is the amount of followers he has, a whopping 5589, your 95 followers seemed silly in comparison. The second thing you notice is his feed. You have to bite your tongue from screaming. It’s absolute filth. Delicious filth. Your eyes light up at it and you admit, it’s sexy but you’re also wondering how the hell this was the same person.

Your eyes hover over countless shirtless photos, photos in the gym, at the beach, he had a physique that deserved this amount of posts. He had countless photos of him partying, drinking, loads where he’s just posing and he looks so handsome, like a model. His face belonged in runaways, so did his body. Your eyes also grow wide at how well styled he is in these photos, his poses natural, only he can pull this off.

“You have so many photos with that damn teddy.” You gulp when you realise that he was probably stalking your account just like you did to his, you now regret being so glued to your phone and his feed as you missed his reactions to your own feed.

“Do you wanna know why?” You continue when he nods. “I love travelling, it’s when I’m happiest. I love trying new food, seeing the culture, I love getting a break. This teddy has been with me since day 1, through thick and thin, so it means a lot to me that it’s also experienced some of my best memories with me. I make it tradition to take a photo in front of the country that I’m visiting biggest landmark, holding Theo.”

Jeno looks at the teddy bear with genuine admiration, his smile growing more tender. "It's worn out.” you mumble, a hint of apology in your voice. "But it's still sentimental," he says, understanding the value it holds for you. The moment feels beautiful, Jeno holding something that carries so many memories and brings you comfort.

As he looks at the teddy bear, you decide this is a memory worth capturing. "The tradition is taking a photo with my teddy, so..." you trail off, grabbing your camera.

Jeno, intrigued, asks, "What's the special landmark this time?"

You pause, then playfully respond, "My bed," only realising how it might sound after the words leave your mouth.

Flustered, you try to clarify, "I didn't mean—"

But Jeno finds it amusing, his laughter filling the room. "It's okay," he reassures you, still smiling. As the laughter lingers, you seize the moment, capturing it with a click of the camera. The soft bear rests in Jeno's hands, and he's caught in the act of laughing, his focus off the camera as he gazes at you.

Excitement builds as you show him the photo, his expression unreadable. However, there's a fondness in his eyes that speaks volumes. "Send me it," he requests, and before the words fully leave his mouth, the photo is already on his phone. It's a moment frozen in time, a memory shared, and a connection deepening between you and Jeno.

As the laughter subsides, a profound stillness envelops the room. Your gaze locks with Jeno's, and suddenly, everything else fades into the background. There's an intensity in the air, and it's as if a cascade of unspoken thoughts and feelings clouds your minds, creating a shared moment that defies explanation.

In the midst of this intimate silence, you find the courage to break it. Your voice, a mere whisper, carries the weight of vulnerability, "You know, I don't let anyone touch my teddy. His name is Theo." The admission hangs there, lingering, as the depth of trust and connection grows between you and Jeno. In that shared gaze, you both seem to get lost, lost in a space where time slows, and the world outside becomes a mere backdrop.

Finally, breaking the spell, you continue, "You're the first who's held him other than me." The words bridge the unspoken gap between you, sealing a bond that laughter and shared moments have forged. It's a moment both intense and intimate, etched in the quiet exchange of looks and the admission of something so personal.

Later that night, after Jeno had left, you find yourself scrolling through Instagram. Your heart races when you spot the latest post on your feed. A smile spreads across your face as you click on Jeno's profile, and the photo you took of him stands out in contrast to his usually serious and cohesive theme. It adds a touch of brightness and spontaneity.

Lee Jeno

*Image Attached*

Me and Theo :)

✧ ✧ ✧

Lee Jeno had seamlessly become a constant presence in your life, transcending the boundaries of your initial collaboration on the project. Friendship had blossomed, revealing layers of connection that went beyond the academic realm.

In the quietude of your shared space, you both spent countless hours together, revealing your true selves. Jeno’s kindness became something you grew incredibly attracted to. This became evident when Chaewon went through a tough breakup, and Jeno, true to his protective nature, comforted her in such a perfect way, he also held Chanhee accountable for his actions.

One evening, as the moon hung high in the sky, Jeno confided in you about his involvement in charity work, your mouth opening wide when you realise he works closely with the exact charity that you hold close to your heart. The revelation sparked a conversation that stretched into the early hours of the morning. Plans for the future unfolded organically, with both of you promising that you’d work hard so you could have a more active role in the charity, side by side. You even helped each other fill out the application for a post–graduate scheme the charity runs.

There were nights when words weren't necessary. The silence that enveloped you both wasn't awkward; instead, it became a source of comfort. Jeno cared for you in ways that transcended the project work. He brushed your hair, knowing it pained you to do it yourself. He cooked for you, he cleaned for you.

His caring nature extended to the smallest details—reminding you to take breaks during study sessions, massaging your hair and neck and personally ensuring you stayed hydrated by placing your water bottle in front of your lips every now and then. Jeno became attuned to your needs, completing small errands when the weight of your busy schedule became overwhelming.

As the night wore on, thoughts of Jeno lingered in your mind. You think about him all night long. His kindness had woven its way into the fabric of your daily life, making his presence as essential as the air you breathed. The bond you shared, born out of shared projects, charity work, and late-night conversations, had grown into something deeper—a connection that defied definition but spoke volumes in the language of shared glances, comfortable silences, and unwavering support.

In the hushed hours of the night, the doorbell's familiar chime cut through the silence, announcing Jeno's unannounced presence. It was 1am, this wasn’t unusual, it could only be him.

As the door closed behind him, Jeno's gaze found you, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he licked them. "You look hot.” he declared, eliciting a flutter of giddiness within you. Blushing, you responded, "Stop it." Yet Jeno's playful persistence only deepened.

A hint of tipsiness clung to him, altering the atmosphere with a subtle shift in demeanour. Jeno's eyes, unable to look away from you, held a different intensity. "Am I making you feel uncomfortable?" he whispered seductively.

Shaking your head, you admitted, "It feels good.” embracing the newfound confidence his attention bestowed upon you. The sexy dress and meticulous makeup became a canvas, painting you in a different light.

“Does it feel good? Yeah?” His words lingered in the air, stirring emotions you were still discovering.

Your cheeks become red, quickly changing the topic. "Heejin was just bored and said she wanted to give me a makeover," you explained, attempting to divert attention from your newfound allure.

"Mmm," Jeno responded, his eyes revealing a flicker of something different. Captivated and a bit tipsy, his gaze lingered on you with newfound intensity. “I was gonna come over so we could do some work, but I feel quite distracted.” Jeno confessed, his eyes still locked on you. The suggestion of a new plan flickered in his gaze.

"You look good, let me take a photo." he proposed, and you found yourself becoming Jeno's muse. His skilled hands orchestrated the scene, capturing a moment blending sensuality with artistry. The photo, zoomed in, portrayed your cleavage adorned with a faint lace veil, jewelry perfectly placed, and his delicate touch moving your fingers over your chest, adding a new allure. As the camera clicked, the image froze in time, encapsulating a night of unexpected comforts and unspoken connections.

In the dimly lit room, the ambiance shifted as Jeno's intense gaze lingered on you. "You're beautiful." he uttered, his voice a low and seductive whisper that hung in the air. The atmosphere grew charged with an unspoken tension as his fingertips delicately traced over your fingers, still resting on your chest. A subtle chill accompanied the graze of his thumb over your rings, an act that heightened the intimacy of the moment.

Trapped in the magnetic pull of his gaze, you found yourself getting lost in the depths of each other's eyes. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you in a silent exchange of emotions. The unspoken connection between you both spoke volumes, the touch of fingers and the locked gaze creating a romantic dance that transcended words. In that intimate space, time seemed to stand still, encapsulating the beauty of a moment suspended in the quiet acknowledgment of shared feelings.

Later that night you lay restless, head flat on your pillow, contemplating the desire to kick Jeno. Countless sleepless nights had been because of him, you keep thinking about earlier. As if summoned by your contemplation, your phone lit up, confirming your intuition—it was Jeno.

✧ ✧ ✧

Heejin insisted there was something brewing between you and Jeno, emphasizing the exchanged glances and the countless hours you spent together. Initially, Yeonjun and Soobin dismissed her claims, but once she managed to sway their opinions, you found yourself accused by three people of harbouring feelings for Lee Jeno.

Rather than denying it, you acknowledge the undeniable allure of Jeno. Who wouldn’t be captivated by him? He’s truly one of a kind. However, your feelings for him remain a fantasy, an unrealistic dream. “Even if I do, Heejin, he would never go for me.”

Heejin rolls her eyes at your apparent obliviousness. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

Soobin, wearing a puzzled expression, questions you, “Why do you say that?”

“It’s what Yeonjun said to me. He said that he’s a fuckboy, he doesn’t get into relationships and doesn’t want anything serious. Plus, I don’t fit into his scene. We have a lot of fun in my house but I don’t think I’ve ever hung out with him or his friends on campus apart from the occasional small talk, it kinda sucks…”

You regularly find yourself thinking about Yeonjun’s warning and it surprises you because the Lee Jeno you had gotten to know was so different from that. He was kind, caring and thoughtful, you couldn’t imagine him as a notorious fuck boy but if you were being fully honest to yourself, it did make sense. There was no denying that he was horny and incredibly sexual, nor was there denying his unbeatable looks and the attention his presence attracts.

Yeonjun shakes his head. “I can’t believe what I said either. He’s completely different to what I stereotyped him as. He’s still the most popular guy on campus but he’s actually a really sweet and down to earth guy, you know? He cares about his studies but he also cares about having fun, that’s why he always gets high and parties. He’s really humble and having one to one conversations with him is actually life changing, I see why Y/N spends most of her time with him. I’m not gonna lie, I think I’m catching feelings.” Yeonjun laughs, claiming the last bit was a lie, wincing when Soobin smacks him on the head.

“I heard he’s stopped sleeping around, Seoyeon and Nagyung tried to initiate something with him but he turned them down, he’s been turning a lot of people down which is unlike him.” Heejin says, clearly she’s heard all the gossip.

“Why?�� You whisper in a faint voice.

The three of them exchange amused glances, and before you can fully grasp the situation, you let out a heavy sigh, accompanied by a crying noise.

“I want him,” you admit, tears welling up as you cry out, letting your emotions take over. Uncertain about why you’re reacting this way, you simply know you can’t deny it any longer – you’ve fallen completely and utterly for him.

Heejin wraps you in a warm hug. “Why are you crying?”

In confusion, a hint of hysteria in your voice, you shake your head. “I don’t know! I just want him.”

The weeks continue and you and Jeno have made good progress on your project, you still spend a lot of time together. There’s a shift in the atmosphere and air now as you actively like him, you try to fight back your feelings when interacting with him but you act on them, in the worst possible way, in fear and awkwardness.

You’re different around him. You don’t know if he can notice it. You confuse yourself, you also confuse Heejin and Yeonjun, who are the only ones who know about your unrequited and secret feelings and you made them promise to not tell anyone (Soobin knows).

You undeniably act crazy, for some reason that’s beyond you, you try and play matchmaker for him. “There’s a girl in my class who’s really pretty and cute, she’s sweet and she’ll suit you. Her name is Karina, do you know her?” You question words that should sound sweet and helpful but there’s a disconnection as you speak.

He shakes his head immediately, “I’m not interested.”

You don’t know why you’re so adamant. “But I heard you like going for girls? She’s a girl, I think she’s interested in you as well.”

He turns it down once again. “I’m sick of all the fucking, maybe I just want something serious.” You wonder if his words are directed at you, or are you delusional? Self doubt fills you, your thoughts attacking and fighting against what you feel in your heart. You’re not his type. He would never go for you.

The atmosphere shifts, leaving you in a state of confusion and anxiety. Trying to deflect, you push, “She’s really pretty, like the prettiest girl on campus.”

“I think you’re prettier,” he says softly, his gaze fixed on you. The air turns serious and intimate as his words linger, weaving into the ambiance, creating a moment where your anxiety and overthinking become almost palpable.

✧ ✧ ✧

What you don’t realise is that Jeno fell for your first.

Underneath the soft glow of string lights in your cozy living room, Jeno sits beside you on the couch. The air is filled with the familiar scent of popcorn, and the soft melody of "About Time" starts playing on the TV. As the scenes of the epic love story unfold, Jeno's eyes occasionally flicker to the screen, but more often, they're drawn to you.

You're completely absorbed in the movie, blissfully unaware of the fact that Jeno has not paid attention to the plot at all, he’s watching you, experiencing a beautiful story unfolding right in front of him. He knows he's fallen in deep when the realisation hits him like a wave.

It’s not like you can complain about his lack of attention towards the screen, it’s not like you paid attention when he made you watch his choice of movie, some geeky sci-fi that you fell asleep to less than halfway through.

The warm, dim light accentuates the gentle curve of your smile as you feed him popcorn, turning to face him and smiling every now and then. He's mesmerised by the way your eyes light up with each romantic scene, and he can't help but smile in response.

The soft giggle that escapes your lips becomes music to his ears, and he finds himself captivated by the subtle nuances of your laughter. The way you effortlessly create an atmosphere of comfort and joy leaves him in awe.

Jeno tries to make sense of the fluttering sensation in his chest, an unfamiliar but welcome feeling. Falling for someone wasn't part of his usual narrative, yet here he is, embracing the complexity of emotions. Your kindness, the shared moments, and the discoveries of common ground are etching memories in his heart.

Despite your differences, the attraction grows stronger. He admires your calmness, a sanctuary he craves, while you find solace in his fearless spirit. Yet, the walls of your connection seem confined to the space within your house, and Jeno feels a longing to extend it beyond.

He suggests hanging out outside, but each invitation is met with your dedication to studies. Parties and town visits are dismissed with a polite reminder of your academic commitments. Jeno understands, even though he wishes to be part of your world beyond the books.

The realisation settles in—he should dislike someone whose life revolves around studying, but he can't bring himself to feel anything but admiration. The mystery of why he's drawn to you, combined with the unspoken tension between you two, leaves Jeno questioning the unexpected turn of his feelings.

He confided in his childhood best friend, the one who knows him the best, Na Jaemin.

Jeno sits on Jaemin’s bed, frustration etched on his face as he scrolls through your social media feed. Each picture elicits a sweet smile from him, and he can’t deny the growing warmth in his chest every time he thinks about you.

“What the fuck is happening to me, Jaemin?” Jeno blurts out, his gaze fixed on your adorable posts. “I never thought I’d fall for her, and now I’m planning our future and naming our hypothetical children.”

The words sound almost surreal as they leave his lips, and Jeno can’t believe he’s uttering such sentiments. Perhaps the alcohol has loosened his inhibitions, his attempt to drown his feelings gone awry as thoughts of you flood his mind.

Frustrated, he barges into Jaemin’s room, pouring out his heart about his unexpected attraction, his desire for you, and the constant presence of your thoughts haunting him.

“So, what do you want to do about it?” Jaemin inquires, assessing his friend’s dilemma.

“I don’t know,” Jeno confesses, uncertainty clouding his expression. The beating sensation in his heart felt so foreign.

“Is this normal?” Jeno asks, his voice laced with fear.

Jaemin can’t help but laugh at the irony. “This is the most normal you’ve ever been.”

✧ ✧ ✧

You don’t know how you found yourself indoors on a Friday night, laying on your bed, Lee Jeno beside you, as he talks to you about his favourite sex position.

“I love them all. The doggy, I love being able to touch everything, hips, tits, boobs, while I pound into the pussy like crazy. I love being restrained and tied up. I love when I’m choked or when I choke. I love when someone rides me, uses me to get off, doesn’t let me touch them. Fuck. But I also love sucking on titties while my dick is being bounced up and down on. Y/N, I just love sex.” He finishes with a satisfied sigh, playful eyes looking deep into yours, not breaking contact for even a second as he speaks.

He chuckles, “You?”

You nearly choke. “I – I don’t have as much experience as you but I just like plain old missionary, you know? I like looking into someone's eyes as we’re making love. I crave feeling loved and seen, I want every inch of my body kissed, I want a connection so deep that every worry fades away. I just want to feel loved and appreciated, you know?”

Jeno’s silent, his eyes turning dim as he sees you in a new light. It’s the way he’s looking at you. You blush, your eyes inviting him in a soft whisper. He hums and nods in agreement. “You’re adorable.” His finger moves to nudge your nose and you do the same to him.

“So you’re not a needy slut?” His unexpected change of subject makes you choke. You jab him in the chest, shaking your head, tongue prodding the inside of your cheek as he looks at you with a playfulness. “I always imagined you as one…” He mumbles, his firm grip on your face conveys a powerful desire for your unwavering attention, a silent plea for you to remain captivated by his gaze.

You roll your eyes. “Just because I want to feel loved by my partner doesn’t mean that I don’t have a freaky side.” You pout, crossing your arms as you refuse to look him in the eyes.

“It’s not my fault that I haven’t been given the opportunity to explore that side of me. I mean sure, I want to have crazy sex but when you’re as inexperienced as me, I mean, call me boring but my body count is only 1. What’s yours?”

He ignores your question, asking his own. “You’re not a virgin?” His tone comes across as more perplexing and shocked than he would’ve wanted but when he realises that you’ve not taken it the wrong way, instead you burst out in laughter, he sighs a breath of relief. His eyes light up at how precious your laugh is, it pulls at his heart string and makes him yearn for something that utterly and truly confuses him.

“I used to have a boyfriend.” You mumble, looking down and picking at your nail, a sense of loss in your voice which gives Jeno an unusual tear in his insides. He’s used to seeing you nervous but it still makes him wish he could take everything away.

“Hey.” He smiles, a sweet tone and his gentle fingers come underneath your chin, softly caressing the skin as he turns your face to look his way. Gone were the days where you’d break away from his intimate eye contact due to feeling butterflies. Though the fluttering sensation remains, there’s now an endearing quality that compels you to keep looking.

He doesn’t need to ask for you to open up and explain, you do that without a second thought now, that’s how comfortable you’ve become with him. “It was my first relationship, my first kiss, my first – you know.” You laugh awkwardly and he widens his eyes, tongue prodding against his cheek in annoyance. Why the hell is he annoyed?

“It was perfect. I mean – it seemed perfect. We were so different, in no world could I imagine being together. He was a lot more adventurous than I was, in a lot of ways. He used to party a lot, he had a very big friend group, he was really outgoing and social. He always used to receive so much attention and then obviously me, the only girl he’s ever settled down with, became the negative side of that attention that he got.”

“I realised that our differences didn’t make us an ideal match. I really wanted us to work, I wanted to prove to myself that the person you love doesn’t have to have the same likes and interests as you, because what’s the fun in that? I wanted to fall so badly in love with the world that he was in, I wanted to become familiar with it but it was too much for me. I used to get so overwhelmed with anxiety and pressure, I found myself acting so unlike myself, I didn’t want to change who I was for him but I ended up on that path. I mean, we broke up before it got extreme. It would’ve been easier if he was a cruel person but he wasn’t, he isn’t. I think I realised that I couldn’t put up with his hectic lifestyle, it all just became a bit too much. Sometimes, though, I felt like that relationship ate away at my self worth and that I begin to matter less and less. I feel like I was never good enough –“

“Don’t you ever say that.” He interrupts, not letting you undermine yourself. As he senses your silence and the stillness on your face, he inches closer. It’s now you who can’t tear your gaze away from him, your heart beats as you feel the warmth of his body. He gently wipes away a falling tear, the warmth of his eyes not leaving yours for a second. His hands then securing your shoulders. He pulls you into a warm embrace, you break into sobs, held tightly in his comforting softness.

You’re not sure when but the comfort in the touches escalated to a level that felt unusual for ‘friends’ but it felt so normal for the two of you.

He lays down on your bed, cushioned by the dozen pillows surrounded by you guys but the main thing warming his heart was your body pressed on top of his, your head tucked into the crevice of his neck as he smooths your hair. He occasionally drops kisses to your temple, his reason being that you were crying and he knows your number one comfort in the world is physical touch but he’s run out of his excuse when you stop crying.

You pout against his skin when he suddenly stops smoothing out your hair, he chuckles and immediately starts once again. What you don’t know is that his heart momentarily stopped as your lips made contact with your skin. It’s a feeling he’s never experienced, the flutter of butterflies in his stomach, the quickened beat of his heart like a melody finding its rhythm.

Your eyes meet in a silent exchange, an intimate haven A warmth envelops the air as your gazes intertwine, feelings that make sense, feelings that don’t make sense. The atmosphere is gentle, like a comforting breeze that whispers sweet secrets. In that tender moment, time seems to slow, and the world around you fades into a soft blur.

He rests his palm against your cheek, the contact making a genuine smile spread across your face as you lean into the touch, your cheek rubbing against his palm as you let out a hum of satisfaction. His other hand continues caressing your hair, you normally would’ve been annoyed as he was making fresh hair greasy but you can’t find it in you to act on that, especially not when he’s looking at you the way he is right now.

“I don’t ever wanna hear you say you’re not good enough, ok?” He says and his tone is comforting yet strict, it was conflicting in a way. He nudges your nose with his thumb. “You’re my favourite person right now.”

You nod, looping your arms around his neck in a bid to get closer. “I promise, I won’t.”

He goes silent then tuts, huffing in disbelief. “What about me?” He questions, offended. He’s exaggerating, he’s doing it to make you laugh and he hasn’t failed.

“You’re my favourite person right now too.” You admit, your heart is weighed down with emotion and your voice reveals your depth of feelings

“Did he treat you well?” Jeno asks, brows furrowing in concern, his protective stance making you smile.

“It’s complicated. Sexually, it wasn’t the best. After the relationship passed I realised that my needs and desires weren’t pleased the way I deserved them to be. It was always me getting down on my knees, I think I cummed like twice in the entire three months. It was just –”

“You deserve better than that.”

Jeno's intense gaze deepens, pupils dilating with a mixture of empathy and resolve. "You deserve better than that. You’re so fucking beautiful and intelligent. You’re so cherished. You deserve the best sex that anyone can ever give you, every need met. You deserve to cum a thousand times a night. I promise I’ll show you.” The tension in the air grows thicker as he leans in closer to you, just when you think he’s gonna kiss you, he smiles, his promise carrying a soft reassurance. It’s one that confuses you but you can’t deny the way your eyes lit up and the soreness of your cheeks from smiling.

A silence passes and it’s both exciting and terrifying. He’s never looked at you like this before. You want to ask him what he’s feeling, to act in the way that he’s looking at you and holding you but a part of you doesn’t have the confidence for that yet.

“Now you need to tell me, what’s up with everyone telling me you’re a fuckboy?” You question him, a poor way on your behalf to move the conversation forward.

You can see that he’s taken aback by your question in his eyes but they twinkle nonetheless. “I just love having sex.” He answers quickly and bluntly, eyes deep into yours as he reveals his truth, you try to laugh off your nerves but his gaze is locking with such intensity into yours. He chuckles at your reaction, at how red and flustered you’ve become. He loves this.

“I’m not a fuckboy though. You know me, you don’t think I’m mean, do you?”

You shake your head immediately, gulping and tearing your eyes from him as he calls you a good girl. He means it harmlessly but it fucks with your head. You quickly talk to ignore the racing beat of your heart. “You’re so sweet and kind to me – ” You laugh, stopping mid sentence to pinch his cheeks which to your surprise, he doesn’t even stop you from doing. “But Jeno… I’ve seen you be quite unfriendly to other people.”

“They deserve it.” He answers with no hesitation.

“I still don’t get why everyone kept speaking about you like you were a notorious fuckboy, you know so many people warned me to stay away from you, I obviously didn’t listen.”

He sighs, scratching his neck. “They’re just jealous that we get along so well but it doesn’t bother me because at the end of the day, we’re making the best memories together. And people don’t know the true story, they just comment on what they see and assume the worst. I’m not a fuckboy like that. Yeah sure, I like, well I used to like sleeping around but I was never a ‘rude fuck boy’. I have respect for each and every girl I sleep with, I make sure they’re cared for, before and after we’re fucking, that they feel good at all times whilst they’re with me. I make sure they don’t feel like I’m just using them for sex even though I don’t want anything further with these girls, I make it clear that the only thing I’m looking for is good sex and they always know that before going into it with me, it avoids disappointment and high expectations. Although I’ve had problems before, it doesn’t matter.”

He explains and a silence follows. You have so many thoughts, so many questions you want to ask and you don’t know where to start but before you know it, one is spilling from your lips before you can properly think of what you’re asking. “Why did you stop?”

He hums, looking at you and raising an eyebrow.

“You said you ‘used’ to like fucking around, why have you stopped?”

“What do you think?”

You hiss in annoyance, he’s normally always keen to explain and talk through everything and anything to you so why is he being so secretive and blunt right now? You don’t understand why he’s keeping his words to a minimum.

“I don’t know so can you stop being so –”

“How am I supposed to have sex with these girls when I’m wishing that they were you?”

In the warm, charged air, their breaths mix like a dance, full of longing. Just a few words reshape everything. It's weird – no nerves or awkwardness, just a flutter in your heart, embraced in the moment. He holds you with strong arms, bodies fitting together perfectly. His captivating eyes connect with yours deeply. It feels just right, a special moment.

"Jeno," you say softly, and he responds with a hum.

"Yeah. I want you," he says, his thumb gently touching your bottom lip.

His radiant grin and those mesmerising eyes captivate your attention, urging you to keep gazing at him but you have a better idea. Your tender lips meet his, your eyes naturally close, succumbing to the delicate touch. The kiss, a mere caress of skin against skin, sparks a delightful frenzy within, setting your entire being alight. Immobile, you find yourself unable to resist, and there's no desire to. In this moment, you yearn for time to stretch indefinitely – the subtle hint of cinnamon warmth, the fragrance of fresh rain, and the exquisite sensation of his breath mingling with yours – a wish for this enchanting experience to linger.

Lost in each other's lips and locked in a gaze that speaks volumes, the night unfolds with passionate embraces and tangled limbs. You feel Jeno's desire, a palpable energy that fuels the connection. His scent, a mix of warmth and subtle cologne, envelops you, adding another layer to the sensory experience.

The kisses are intense and insatiable, each touch leaving an indelible mark on the night. Jeno's lips move with purpose, exploring and igniting a fervor that courses through both of you. The taste of him is addictive, the play of tongues an intricate dance of desire. As you straddle him, the heat between you grows, the kisses deepening in both intensity and intimacy.

It's not just a physical connection; it's a shared exploration of passion. Jeno's hands on your body convey a hunger matched by your own, creating an electric current that courses through every touch. The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and the symphony of kisses, creating a sensory tapestry that encapsulates the entirety of this unforgettable night.

✧ ✧ ✧

As soon as you open the door, you barely have time to recollect your thoughts or greet him as his lips are pressed against yours.

He grabbed you firmly, and backed you up against the wall beside the door as he swiftly closed it. His lips come crashing into yours, tongue adjacent. You barely had time to think or react. Your eyes widened in astonishment as he pulled away for a moment, his eyes met yours with a smile.

“Hello to you too.” You whimper, his lips kissing along your jaw, while his hands slid along your body.

He breaks it up as he senses it’s getting too heated, you’re both breathing heavily and flustered. His eyes sparkle as he takes in your appearance, bottom lip tugged under his teeth as he looks you up and down. “You look cute.” He compliments.

You give him a giddy smile, feeling hot as his heated gaze is still taking in all of your body and he’s not hiding it. You’re laughing against his shoulder when he pulls you in for a warm hug, the embrace filling your veins with joy. He kisses your cheek, you tie your hands together and realise you really do look cosy. You were in the fluffiest of socks, your hair was in a messy bun and you were wearing your glasses. Your cheeks heat up when you remember that you were only wearing a t-shirt and underwear, you were sure he could see your nipples peek through your flimsy top and if you rose ever so slightly, your panties would be on show.

“I dress for comfort.” You say with pride.

“And I don’t?”

You shake your head, you were honest and unfiltered. “You really don’t, every day is like a runaway for you but I’m not complaining.” He always looks hot.

“Why are you so dressed up right now?” You question, glancing sideways to look at the clock. “It’s 1am. What are you even doing right now?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“What have you been doing?” He reverses his question back to you.

You clap your hands with excitement and he can’t help but grin at how cute he finds you like this. “I’ve been working on the assignment. Do you want me to show you all I’ve worked on?” You question, hand already in his and you’re ready to drag him to your room before he interjects.

“You should’ve showed me earlier when I was trying to sleep.” He is completely unfazed. Kissing your forehead as his form of apology when you start sulking. You grab his tie, the action making him flustered which you don’t realise.

You fiddle with the material. Eyes dancing over him again.

He exudes attractiveness in smart trousers that complement his silhouette perfectly, paired with a meticulously fitted shirt. Every detail oozes of confidence, from the crisp lines of the trousers to the way the shirt hugs his muscular and broad form with tailored precision. His black leather jacket is resting against his shoulders, adding warmth and comfort to his attire. “You still haven’t told me, why are you so dressed up?”

He doesn’t answer at first so you loop your arms around his neck to ensure his full attention is on you. He seems a bit distracted, you realise he’s looking down as your shirt has risen, he’s looking at your lace underwear peeking through, the all so familiar heat in his eyes that you’re so used to.

“Hey!” He meets your eyes with an apologetic yet guilty glance, he truly couldn’t help himself. He bites his lips and you take the time to truly take him all in.

His hair, pitch black and casually slicked back, has a few stray strands escaping the gel, falling playfully over his forehead. Your hand naturally reaches to caress the hair on his neck, enjoying its length. Fingers moving to dangle against his earrings, adoring how he was always so dressed up, he took so much pride in his appearance and the attentiveness was hot.

His face is like something out of a magazine, intense, heated eyes, soft cheeks, lips still swollen from your kisses, a sharp jawline, and the cutest dimples. He looks stunning, surpassing anyone you've seen before. It's not just his looks; the way he looks at you confirms he's a masterpiece, as if he's walked out of an impressionist painting.

His sides of his lips curve up in the most boyish smile as he checks you checking him out. “You think I’m sexy?” He questions, voice purposefully low and seductive. You’ve learnt that he’s quite shameless and cheeky, he has no limit or shame.

“Answer me.” He says as you’re silent.

“Yeah.” You answer simply, voice coming in a small whisper which makes him coo at how cute you are.

He kisses your lips briefly before finally telling you why he’s come to you in such attire. “You’ll see why I’m so dressed up in about an hour.“ He looks at his watch before finishing. “And now you’re gonna be dressed up.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as he moves your arms from around his neck so he can take your hand in his, walking the two of you outside to where his car is parked. He opens the passenger door with one hand, pulling you in front of him with his other, arm coming to rest around your front, his compact yet soft hold keeping you in place against his body heat, flush against flush. You’re so close to him.

You feel an electric shock of butterflies surge through your veins when he leans over to grab the bags on the seat, you lean over in tow. He’s made it difficult for himself to grab the bags by placing you in front of him but you learn that he’s just content to feel your body against his, you never realised how touchy and clingy he truly could be. He rests his head against your shoulder, kissing the skin below your ear as he sighs when you relish in his touch, leaning back into him, closing your eyes in bliss. Truth is, you find yourself craving for his touchy side.

“I don’t want you to get cold.” He explains himself. It’s his excuse, how could you get cold when you’ve been outside for a mere minute? You giggle when he ends the moment to drag you back inside. It was definitely an excuse.

“What the hell is in these bags?” You question, eyes widening as you look at the brands. This was a lot of money.

“Well, I remember you telling me that you felt like you didn’t have enough going out clothes so I got you some that I know you’d look really good in.” He explains like it’s nothing, laughing as he sees your agape mouth and startled eyes. No one has ever done this for you.

“You shouldn’t have!”

After a lot of back and forth, you trying to reject the gifts, him telling you to shush and to just accept this gesture, you finally accept the gifts with hesitation, promising him that you’ll make it up to him.

“When did you even have time to go shopping?” He left your house at around 10pm with a kiss to your forehead, telling you he had some university work to do. He felt guilty as you pleaded him to stay the night but he promised he would another day.

“I just couldn’t sleep, I kept thinking about you.” He explains, his honesty being a major turn on for you.

“I told you not to go.” You mumble with a pout.

“Well I’m here now.”

“I went shopping for you. It didn’t take long, I know what you like.” He says and you’re left wondering how?. You don’t even think you know yourself like that, whenever you’re shopping it’s always a lengthy struggle.

He leans down and your eyes nearly tear at how attractive he truly is.

His shirt clings to his muscles, showing off the definition in his lean and toned chest as he leans down, rummaging through the bags with a determined look. Your thirst is quenched by the view of his thighs, snug and fabulous, displaying their shape in a really appealing way.

He finally finds what he’s looking for with a satisfying grin, leaning up and handing over the material gently in your hands. Your skin beams at the luxurious silk, it’s smooth texture inviting a gentle caress in your hand. “You’re gonna wear this one.” He asks, more like tells but you don’t have a problem with it. Seeing the mere satisfaction he gets from telling you to wear a dress that he’s brought out for you and one that he likes is enough to make you feel confident and secure in the choice.

“You know my size?” You question in suprise, eyeing the label as you speak.

He wiggles his eyebrows, a smirk plastered on his face. “Of course I do.” His tone is playful.

You look at him with surprise, this is a side to him that’s so unexpected and different. Jenos, once more reserved and friendly with you, underwent a noticeable transformation when he received the green light of your interest in him. The subtle shift in his demeanour revealed a confidence that he had been hiding, he began to explore a more touchy and sensual side. His interactions became imbued with a palpable energy, as if he had unlocked a deeper connection and sought to express it through physical closeness. The change in his actions spoke volumes about the impact of your reciprocated feelings, turning moments of restraint into an exploration of intimacy.

The unexpected emergence of Jenos' flirty, touchy, and loving side sparked a thrilling response, stirring a sense of arousal. The contrast from his previous reserved nature amplified the allure, creating a magnetic pull of excitement. The novelty of exploring this unanticipated dimension of his personality added a layer of passion, turning the ordinary into an exhilarating adventure. The element of surprise, coupled with the genuine connection, heightened the attraction and fueled a sense of desire for the uncharted territories of this newfound intimacy.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

“Black.” You and him answer at the same time and his eyes lift up in satisfaction. You’re questioning two things, why would he ask if he already knows? And how does he know so much about you? It makes you question whether you’re an open book or whether he’s just so attentive and observant, you know it’s the latter. Even your best friend doesn’t know this much about you.

“You know, your favourite colour doesn’t match your personality.” He whispers, leaning down, his breath caressing your ear before his whisper does. “It makes me so much more intrigued by you, I know you have a side that you haven’t shown anyone, I can’t wait until you’re ready to show me it.”

You’re stunned by his words but he doesn’t even give you time to react fully or respond. “Try it on.”

“But where are we going?” You question, lips in a pout, cheeks flushed and eyes soft, hoping it would evoke sympathy so he’d tell you as you can’t stand surprises but he doesn’t budge.

“What’s with all the questions?” He says in an amused tone, secretly loving how you were freaking out inside.

“I –“

“Don’t you trust me?” He says, voice gentle and heart sincere.

“Of course I do.” You answer without thinking. He’s earned your trust through time.

“Good girl.” He smiles, thumb caressing your bottom lip, looking down at you with equal amounts of trust and appreciation in his eyes. What you felt for each other was undeniable and unquestionably mutual. “Now go change.”

Your eyes widen and your cheeks become flustered, a redness that was starting to become usual around him. He pecks your lips before closing his eyes in front of you, covering his eyes with his palm before turning around. “Is this okay?” He questions and you nod, telling him yes.

Sliding into the dress feels like a graceful embrace, the feeling heightened as you know it’s picked out and chosen by Jeno. The silk glides effortlessly over your skin, casting a sensation. As it inches up, there's a gentle caress against your legs and thighs, and the dress wraps you in a luxurious cocoon, creating a heightened sense of elegance and allure.

You let out a shudder of cold breath when you realise that there’s a zip on the back, one that you probably would have reached with some effort but you had a better idea. “Jeno.” You call out to him, your faint voice filling the hot atmosphere.

“You’re finished?” He says, palm still over his eyes and they wouldn’t move until you told him so.

“Just turn around.”

A rush of breath escapes him as he emerges from a minute of darkness, greeted by the captivating sight of your back. The silhouette reveals a subtle curve, the graceful lines drawing his attention, and a mix of anticipation and wonder floods through him at the unexpected beauty unveiled before his eyes.

“Can you help me with the zip?” You ask, shyly, not knowing what to feel as you were met with his silence.

“Yes.” He answers and for the first time, he sounds speechless in your presence.

His fingers trace a delicate path along the exposed skin as he slowly zips up the back of your dress, eyes following in awe. The metallic whisper of the zipper weaves a subtle melody, punctuating the intimacy of the moment. The fabric yields to your touch, caressing your spine in a tender dance. Each upward motion is a silent promise, creating an electric connection between you, as if sealing the dress is an act of sealing the shared passion. The room is filled with an unspoken language, where every tug of the zipper threads binds you closer, making the ritual of dressing a ritual of desire. His fingertips create an intimate connection, his touch lingering as if etching a map on your spine. You’ve never felt closer.

“Done.” He whispers with a kiss to the back of your neck, leaving his lips there to linger, the feeling of his skin against yours leaving goosebumps.

“Thank you.” You mumble, moving to turn around and face him but before you can do so, his hands around your waist secure you. He moves your hair from one side and tucks it behind your ear, you relish in his touch, breath hitching in your throat when you realise you’re both standing in front of the mirror.

Your own reflection is a welcome surprise. The dress hugs your curves beautifully, accentuating them in a way you could’ve never imagined. The cleavage on show makes you feel shy but the way Jeno’s looking at you takes it all away. You can see how he’s looking at you through the reflection, his eyes carrying such intensity and heat, it speaks of desire.

His voice, a symphony of sensuality and seduction, whispered, "You look so beautiful, baby." His eyes, filled with desire, traced an enchanting path across your form, lingering on the curves that the dress embraced so gracefully. A subtle, knowing smile played upon his lips as his fingertips delicately explored those curves.

“Can you see how beautiful you look?” He pressed a soft kiss against your skin, the intimacy heightened as you pressed back, sighing as you melted fully into him. In that moment, the air was filled with the magnetic allure of shared affection, an intimate atmosphere that bound you together in the dance of whispered words, gentle kisses, and the tender touch that spoke volumes.

He hums when you haven’t answered.

“Yes.” You answer simply, not knowing that you could feel this way.

“Can I put your hair up?” He questions, voice coming out as a quiet lull. You nod, your hair is already in a messy bun but you assume he wanted to do it neatly.

You look in astonishment as he focuses on you with his full attention, smoothing out the strands and putting everything in place before creating what could’ve possibly been the best hairstyle you’ve ever seen on yourself. It was an elegant bun, framing pieces giving a whole new level of sophistication and elegance to your look, his attention to detail surprised you.

You laugh and it unexpectedly brings humour to such a heated and intimate moment. “When did you learn how to do all this?” You question, he could do hair better than you.

“I like when your hair is up.” He whispers into your ear, a playfulness deep in his tone which fucks with your head even more.

“You look so much better than I could’ve imagined and trust me, I’ve thought about you in this dress about a hundred times since buying it.” He admits, his hands glued to your curves, he’s unable to stop caressing them.

The dress was so utterly breathtaking. “Thank you Jeno, really.” You express your gratitude, looking in the mirror and admiring the sight of your own reflection once again.

The dress is crafted from lavish black satin, so enchanting, a lustrous sheen that catches the light with every movement. The fabric gracefully cascades, accentuating the contour and curves of your body while maintaining an air of refinement. Delicate lace embellishments trace along the neckline and hem, The plunging neckline subtly accentuates your cleavage, a sight that was welcoming and new, it adds a touch of allure without being overly revealing. Its captivating elegance lies in the delicate balance between sophistication and subtle seduction, making it the most secure and perfect choice for you.

You turn around in his hold, looking up at him with the most fervent eyes before you close the small distance between you both.

Your lips met his in a passionate embrace, a desperate dance of desire. The heat of the moment intensified as he kissed you back, moulding your mouths together, creating an electric connection. Soft sighs and gentle moans lingered in the air, merging with the intoxicating warmth. It was a steamy, lingering kiss—a fusion of longing and urgency that left you both breathless, lost in the sensual currents of the shared moment.

You back away with a whimper, breathing heavily and feeling unsatisfied. Just as you’re about to kiss him back, his words cut you off. “We have to go, we’re gonna be late.” His voice is forced and pushed out, leaving you with a small pout as you follow his lead, hand ingrained in his as he walks you to the car.

His hand doesn’t let go of yours as he’s driving. You possibly can’t imagine him being any more attractive than he is in this current moment, although you don’t know that you’re in for a surprise.

As he navigates the empty road, his strong, defined arms confidently grip the steering wheel. The hum of the engine harmonises with the low timbre of his voice as he occasionally speaks to you, the small talk filling the atmosphere but never once feeling awkward or forced.

His fingers entwine with yours in a silent promise. The occasional soft kisses on your hand punctuate the drive, moments of affection seamlessly woven into the rhythm of your journey. It’s like he can’t go a moment without him touching or kissing you, little do you know that this is only the start…

Your eyes carry a magnetic allure as he parallel parks so swiftly, something that you’re both envious and turned on by. The concentration that furrows his brow makes you smile at how breathtaking he looks.

“You’re staring.” Eyes not leaving the road as he fills the silence, turning around to face you for a split second with that smirk that pulls at your heart strings.

“You look hot.”

You look around when you’ve realised he’s parked, it’s a house that’s unfamiliar to you. “We’re at your house?” You assume, stepping out the car once he’s opened the door for you, hand finding yours once again.

He nods. “Yeah I left my wallet.”

You stop for a second and look up at the house, eyes narrowing when you realise you can see light through the windows, he explains that he has roommates, people you haven’t met before. Some sound familiar, some don’t. Jaemin, Donghyuck, Renjun.

“Come.” He smiles, arms outstretched when he sees hesitation in your walk and face.

Just as you’re about to walk in, you feel unsettled and confused, you look at each other and you’re surprised to see that he’s just as confused as you are. Was this a frat house? That was the only solid explanation you could think of at the moment because why was it so loud? You hear excruciating loud music from outside, the sensation making you wince and cover your ears, this truly sounded like the worst music you’ve ever heard. You see beer bottles scattered outside and you jump when the front door opens and drunken people come in and out the house, some staring at you, some are too wasted to even notice you but they all acknowledge Jeno, it overwhelms you just how many people recognise and greet him, was he that well known and popular?

“What day is it?”

You raise your eyebrows, confused as to why he doesn’t know. “It’s Sunday.”

He curses immediately, gritting his teeth, his features arranging into pure frustration. “I’m supposed to be hosting this party, I’ve completely forgotten.” He raised his voice over the crowd of people, merely giving him the bare minimum greeting when they shout his name. He's more concerned about maneuvering through the crowd, hand in hand, trying to get to a quiet room which seemed impossible due to the sheer volume of people partying.

You throb with an overwhelming intensity. The room is buzzing with a cacophony of laughter, music, and clinking glasses that engulfs the crowded space. The pulsating bass shakes the floor as bodies move in a chaotic dance, lost in the rhythm. The air is thick with the scent of alcohol, mingling with the pungent aroma of various substances. In every corner, couples share passionately making out, their connection heightened by the vibrant atmosphere. Drunken people stumble through the crowd, their laughter blending with the ambient noise. It's a sensory overload of sights and sounds, it takes a toll on you going from such a quiet and intimate place with Jeno to this complete extreme, an intoxicating atmosphere.

As you and Jeno intertwine your fingers and walk through the crowd, a ripple of hushed whispers and lingering gazes follow you. Your connection becomes a focal point, drawing a spectrum of reactions from the surrounding onlookers. Some shoot judgmental glares, their eyes carrying a hint of intimidation and it’s aimed at you, Meanwhile, others wear expressions of genuine confusion and intrigued interest, as if trying to decipher an unexpected puzzle.

The weight of attention becomes suffocating, and your thoughts spiral with self-consciousness. You second guess every move, hyper-aware of the disapproving looks and the prying eyes. The once vibrant atmosphere of the party morphs into a claustrophobic maze, trapping you in a cycle of anxious thoughts. Jeno squeezes your hand reassuringly, but the external pressures persist, triggering a sense of vulnerability.

"Jeno, everyone is staring," you whisper under your breath, unsure if he can even hear. His response is a subtle tightening of his grip on you, silently manoeuvring you in front of him. His hands then find the sides of your face, his captivating eyes drawing you in, offering an inviting refuge that makes you forget the penetrating stares.

Your heart rate steadies as he leans in, connecting his lips to yours in a surprising move. You're taken aback, wondering how he remains unfazed by the judgmental looks. It's as if he's accustomed to the attention, his confidence astonishing you. You yearn to emulate his ability to brush off the scrutiny, but the weight of judgement lingers, a stark contrast to his composed demeanour

Feeling the tension in the air, Jeno senses your unease. Without a word, he slips off his leather jacket, the scent of familiarity enveloping you as it drapes over your shoulders. The jacket, infused with his comforting essence, serves as a shield against the prying eyes and judgement.

As you pull the jacket close, the soft leather and his distinct scent create a cocoon of security. The tactile reminder of his presence eases the nervous knot in your stomach. In that shared moment under the jacket's reassuring weight, the party's chaos fades into the background, replaced by a quiet sanctuary that Jeno, with his thoughtful gesture, has crafted just for you.

“How do you forget that you’re supposed to be hosting a party?” You question, breathing a sigh of relief when he’s finally found a vacant room, closing the door behind you and immediately pressing you against the wall, content on just holding you close to him.

“I told you, I’ve only been thinking about you. You fuck me up so much.” Jeno confesses, his voice laden with desperation and a hint of a low moan. It’s a confession painted with a mix of desire and torment.

“Jeno.” You sigh, voice laden with the same desperation and hint of low moan. Your breath catches at Jeno's intense confession, his words hanging in the air like a charged current. The vulnerability in his voice resonates with you, and a swirl of emotions envelops your senses. A mixture of surprise, desire, and a tinge of uncertainty dances in your eyes as you meet his gaze.

His expression swiftly shifts to one of apology, that beloved grin fading as he peppers your face with spongy and delicate kisses. "I’m so sorry," he whispers against your skin, his words leaving you with a sense of uncertainty and questioning.

“I can’t leave.” His tone is fixed and set and it leaves you silent, a frown on your lips as he explains himself. “I have a responsibility. Even though I completely forgot that I’m throwing this party, I’m still the host. if something happens under my roof, under my party. I just – I can’t have that.”

“What could go wrong?”

He truly can’t believe you’re asking that, he widens his eyes in surprise. “So much. It’s mainly the concern of dodgy people selling drugs and fights. I need to monitor it.”

You rarely get angry and even though you’re not, you feel the first sign of it. “It’s not your responsibility. Why do you always throw parties?”

“To give people a good time and it’s for me as well, I love getting high and partying.”

The judgement in your tone is faint but you can’t help it. “Are you sure it gives you a good time? You know you need to put yourself first. You could just… I don’t know… go to the cinema or go to the pub for a wind down. Does it always have to be clubbing, drinking, alcohol and drugs?”

You can’t even tell if your words had any effect on him as he simply doesn’t react. It’s like he’s ignored everything that you’ve said. He’s quick to change the subject. “Please can you stay? I’ll get an uber for you if you can’t but it will feel really pointless if I can’t be with you after all this.”

You purse your lips and contemplate. “ This isn’t really my scene.”

“I’ll be with you the whole night.”

You’re silent, contemplating, making a list of pros and cons in your head. You know that if it takes you this long to decide something then you should probably just go against it but it’s the way he’s looking at you which is making you consider staying. He’s totally checking you out. Eyes lingering on you with an intensity. His eyes trace the curve of your shoulders, gaze holding a certain hunger, lingering on the subtle contours of your figure, appreciating the sensuality in every curve. It's a magnetic stare, filled not just with desire but also a deep, sultry fascination, as if savouring the allure of someone already known but continually unveiling new layers.

"Do you feel good? Do you feel sexy?" He breathes into your ear, a seductive murmur that elicits a whimper. He's a master at this game, a menace, knowing exactly how to coax a "yes" from your lips.

“I do.”

“It will be a shame if you don’t stay.” He peers deep into your eyes, his gaze pleading, and his lips forming a pout.

“Why?”

“You’re someone who deserves to be shown off,” he confesses, taking your hand above your head and spinning you around. He whistles at the sight of you. “I wanna show everyone what and who they’re missing out on.”

“You look so fucking good.”

At this moment you think about your ex. You wanted to be more outgoing for him, it’s not that you wanted to change who you were, you just wanted to be more adaptable and better at adapting to surroundings and atmospheres you’re unfamiliar with but you failed to do so for him, your own insecurities and lack of self confidence led to the ultimate break up.

You don’t want the same to happen, you want to be a better version of yourself. Maybe you’ll have a good time, who knows?

You nod and he smiles. “Thank you, baby.”

“I’m not gonna drink though. I know that’s gonna be like avoiding the plague in a setting like this but I don’t want to even go near alcohol. I don’t know how your parties work but if someone tries to give me a drink or even sell to me I’m gonna be so uncomfortable.”

He tightens his grip on your hand, if even possible. “I’ll be with you, don’t worry.”

“Maybe I’ll have one drink if my favourite wine is here.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You drink?”

"I don’t mind a glass every now and then; I just don’t like intense drinking; it gives me a headache," you say, pouting slightly. He can't help but find you incredibly cute, yet the paradox of your differences intrigues him. You, the last girl he imagined falling for, bring a delicious thrill down his spine. The contrast in your preferences and personalities adds a layer of excitement, making every moment with you an unpredictable journey he's more than willing to explore.

He speaks as he opens the door, leading you out of the confined room. “What’s your favourite drink?”

“I like a glass of Moscato here and there.” You smile, you’d love it right now. Its delicate notes of peach and orange blossom provide a pleasant, easy-going flavor that suits your taste preferences. This choice allows for you to have an occasional, milder indulgence without the heaviness often associated with other wines.

“Just keep by my side, ignore everyone else.” He sweetly smiles.

As you exit the confined room, You feel a newfound assurance coursing through you. With Jeno by her side, a steady and comforting presence, you navigate through the vibrant chaos of the party with a relaxed demeanour. The pulsating music and lively chatter now serve as a backdrop to your shared world. You don’t know how long it will last.

Jeno, true to his promise, remains a constant support, his hand lightly resting on the small of your back, a subtle reassurance that empowers you. As you step back into the lively atmosphere, Your gaze meets the curious and judgmental stares with newfound confidence. The weight of scrutiny dissipates, replaced by a sense of self-assurance, as you and Jeno seamlessly blend into the rhythm of the party, ready to enjoy the night together.

Moments later, Jeno gives you a cup, a knowing and prideful glint in his eyes as he does so, you eye it with confusion and wonder if he understood any of what you said to him but when he tells you to just trust him, you can’t fight with that.

As you take a sip, the liquid cascades down your throat, awakening a familiar sensation that extends beyond the taste buds. Moscato. The rich warmth of the beverage creates a parallel with the comfort you feel in Jeno's presence. It's not just the drink; it's the uncanny similarity between the smooth, familiar taste and the ease you experience with him.

“You’re unbelievable.” You mutter. In this moment, as you feel the warmth of the alcohol and his attentive gesture, your trust in Jeno deepens, a subtle fire of desire kindling within you. No one has ever made her feel so seen and appreciated, and the subtle undercurrent of attraction you feel for him heightens with each sip and lingering gaze.

“Try it.” You offer it to him, wide eyed with excitement as you hand him the same cup you drink from.

He has the smallest sip you’ve ever seen, giving you the fakest smile, you bite your tongue to hold back the laughter. “Mmmmhh.” He says, the enthusiasm not sounding wholehearted.

“You hate it.” You laugh and he nods, pouring one of his favourite beverages into another cup, when he makes you drink a sip of his for good measure, you nearly gag.

“Do we have anything in common?”

He shakes his head but answers sweetly. “It doesn’t matter.”

As time unfolds, Jeno's attentive nature becomes a delightful revelation, driving you to appreciate his considerate gestures. A dedicated table adorned with your favourite wine showcases a level of thoughtfulness that doesn't go unnoticed. While you're not going overboard with the drinks, the comfort of having the choice makes the evening feel personalised.

His attention extends to the music, playing tunes that align with your preferences. The amusing looks of distaste he expresses to certain songs add a playful touch, making the atmosphere all the more enjoyable. To top it off, the order includes the food you love, a shared delight in the delicious sushi, creating a thrilling connection between you both. Jeno's attentiveness transforms the evening into a curated experience, and you find yourself revelling in the charm of these thoughtful nuances.

“Don’t touch that.” He warns the partygoer who has his hand outstretched, ready to eat the sushi.

“It’s ok.” You shake your head, amused at Jeno.

People are saying hi to him every second, he returns the greetings and your eyes widen every time at the mass volume of faces you see, they’re all unfamiliar, it makes you think that you truly do stick with your two friends and that’s it.

It’s attractive how he can have his attention on so much yet at the same time, he monitors the party well. He’s stopped a few fights from happening and has kicked out anyone he doesn’t want here. He’s had his eye on everything and it proves a success, nothing has gone wrong. You feel like his mere presence just prevents disaster.

As he’s focusing on other things, it still feels like his full attention is on you, he’s stayed right by your side like he promised. He’s even introduced you to a few of his friends, you like to think of it more as acquaintances, there’s no way someone can have that many friends.

He whispers sweet words in your ears every now and then, his soft voice comforting you and taking you away from this lively setting.

“Let’s dance, baby.”

He’s a natural and he’s so attractive it almost starts to hurt.

You’re captivated by him, his movements seamlessly syncing with the rhythm. There's an innate allure in the way he moves, a magnetic confidence that radiates from every step and sway. The play of lights accentuates the contours of his figure, highlighting the subtle strength in his dance. As he loses himself in the music, a certain intensity flickers in his eyes, adding an extra layer to his already enticing presence. Watching Jeno move becomes a tantalising experience, awakening a newfound appreciation for the magnetic and undeniably sexy allure he effortlessly emanates

“Just let loose, baby.”

You do just that.

In the intimate embrace of the dance, your bodies press flush against each other, a magnetic connection that defies the rhythm of the music. Jeno's lips find yours in a heated dance of their own, exploring with fervour. His hands trace the contours of your body, igniting sparks of desire with every touch. In this heated moment, the world dissolves, and his focus is solely on you. It's a dance where lips speak volumes, and the only audience that matters is the intoxicating connection shared between you two.

You feel happy. Your heart beats to a melody of sheer bliss, and a contagious smile graces your lips. You realise he doesn’t shy away from PDA, he’s very touchy. You know he’s held back for so long when the two of you were just friends but now that he has the green light that you like him too, it’s full on. You thought he had become 100% with you, little do you know he’s still holding back.

“Where were we gonna go?” You ask him, curious as to what the plan was before you unexpectedly came to his party.

“It was a reservation at that place you told me about.”

Your mouth opens wide, shocked that he managed to reserve it but also sorrowful that you couldn’t make it. You much rather be there with him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll book it for another day.” He promises.

✧ ✧ ✧

Later that night, you find yourself sitting on his lap, falling deeply into the solace in your room, the atmosphere shifting from the chaotic party to an intimate haven. Legs on either side of him, you comfortably straddle Jeno, who's clearly a bit wasted. His eyelids have doubled in size, and he exudes a more flamboyant and touchy demeanour.

It's a welcomed change from the loud festivities, just the two of you basking in the quietude of the room. Smiles exchanged between you carry the weight of shared moments, and eye smiles speak volumes in the silence. There's a comfortable simplicity in the lack of conversation; you find contentment in merely sitting together.

Jeno, under the influence, becomes even more touchy, his hands finding solace on your thighs. In this tranquil haven, his touches add a layer of warmth, creating a cocoon of intimacy where unspoken connections thrive. The night unfolds with a unique serenity, a delicate dance between smiles, touches, and the quiet companionship that transcends words.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, your bottom lip slightly pouted with guilt as Jeno winces. Amidst the tender touches, you've also been tending to his wounds. Despite Jeno's insistence on preventing fights at his parties, he made an exception this time. The guy had crossed a line, taking upskirt photos and making several girls uncomfortable. Jeno, unable to tolerate such behavior, took matters into his own hands, resulting in his current state.

As you carefully dab sanitized cotton pads on his wounds, placing plasters where needed, a quiet understanding passes between you two. Jeno's soft eyes meet yours, and in that moment, the silent acknowledgment of the unwavering bond you share transcends the chaos of the night.

Jeno is a mixture of emotions, pain and pleasure, he’s huffing and puffing. It all comes to a halt when you lean forward with an endearing tenderness, kissing the spots where he is hurt. Your lips, soft and gentle, leave a trail of comfort over each injury, a healing touch that goes beyond the physical.

Jeno, despite the pain, finds himself captivated by your sweetness. Your cute and gentle demeanor sparks a warmth within him, and a subtle smile plays on his lips. The intimacy of the moment transcends the physical, creating a connection that's as soothing as it is alluring. In this exchange, the boundary between care and desire blurs, leaving you immersed in a shared space.

You’ve never seen him as needy as he is right now.

“You don’t regret tonight, do you?” His voice sounds lower and deeper.

You think about how much went off track tonight but the unpredictability was a welcome surprise for you, you felt settled and secure. “I don’t.”

“You’re such a good girl.” He says, voice filled with adoration, words whispered in a low moan.

As the night breathes tranquility into the room, Jeno's hands find their way to the zipper of your dress, mirroring the earlier gesture of care when he zipped you up. Now, in the quiet confines of your room, the air charged with a subtle intimacy, he gently unzips your dress. The delicate touch of his hands grazing your back sends a shiver down your spine, an unspoken promise lingering in the atmosphere.

In the soft glow of the room, Jeno's touches transition from practical to tender. At some point, his lips find the curve of your back, planting kisses that create a symphony of sensations. Each touch, each kiss, weaves a delicate narrative of a shared connection, an uncharted intimacy unfolding in the hushed moments of the night. The room becomes a haven where gestures speak louder than words, and the dance of hands and kisses paints a portrait of a connection that transcends the boundaries of the night.

“My. Good. Girl.” He says between kisses.

In the soft glow of the room, Jeno's passionate kisses ignite a fervor between you and him. Your dress remains unzipped, a subtle invitation that adds an electric charge to the moment. As you straddle him, a perceptible difference in his demeanour emerges — a heightened passion, electrified and intensified, likely due to being under the influence. Each touch a silent confession that speaks louder than words in the hushed ambiance of the room. He tastes like blueberries, you were sure it was the artificial flavour of the vape he had been smoking from all night,

You gently break the kiss, both of you left flustered and breathless, the air pulsating with a shared intensity that hangs between you. The unspoken energy lingers, leaving a charged silence that speaks volumes. This is a lot for you. Before you carry on, you want to know where you stand because you really fucking like him and you trust him, you’ve never imagined that you could be capable of having such strong feelings.

“Are you my boyfriend?”

He’s silent for a while and your heart nearly stops. You knew it. You fucking knew it. It was too good to be true.

Just as you were about to get the hell out of here, to recollect whatever you had left in you, he turns to you with the gentlest expression you’ve seen from him yet. It’s there, unmistakably, in the warmth of his eyes—a promise of trust and a sentiment you can fall for.

You’ve never wanted him more than you do in this moment, and just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, he utters it loud and clear, his voice a proclamation of emotions. “Yeah,” he says, smiling at your shy reaction, and in that moment, you can sense the honesty in his words.

He confesses with a joyful certainty, “I’m your boyfriend,” and the air becomes charged with a newfound sweetness. It’s a declaration that dances in your heart, and as the words settle. He’s never felt this feeling before. It’s a cute and wholesome moment, an admission that wraps around you both like a warm, comforting embrace.

Lost in the warmth of the moment, Jeno leans in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle yet deep kiss. The embrace is like sinking into a plush cushion, soft and enveloping. Lingering in the sweetness of the kiss, you both get lost in each other, the world outside fading away.

You break away before it gets heated, giggling when he grunts. “Ask me to be your girlfriend then.”

In the soft glow of the moment, you can't help but pout, a playful desire dancing in your eyes. It’s something you want to hear, a declaration that would make this moment even more special.

Seeing your yearning, he smiles, a beautifully genuine expression that holds the promise of something sweet. Unable to resist, he gives in to your request. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asks, the words carrying the weight of a shared journey yet to unfold.

With a joyous grin, you respond, "Yeah, I will," sealing the moment with the confirmation you longed for. The air becomes charged with a newfound sweetness, and without hesitation, you close the distance between you two, a kiss marking the beginning of a beautiful chapter in your story.

Your lips move with a tender intensity, exploring his as if they hold the secrets of the universe. It's a deep connection. In this moment, the world outside is just a distant echo, and the only reality is the lingering taste of the kiss and the profound sense of being lost in each other's lips.

✧ ✧ ✧

In the midst of your relationship with him, you learned that you were his first girlfriend. You were the first person he had fallen for. Sometimes it felt like you didn’t know what you were doing, relationships were hard work but together, you fumbled through the learning curve, discovering an effortless synergy that made everything click.

As the closeness between you deepened, trust became the foundation of your connection. Previously, the memory of maintaining a distance while brainstorming ideas for the project has transformed into a stark contrast. Now, most study sessions end with you perched on his lap, the desk serving as an impromptu space for shared moments and passionate make-out sessions.

Navigating the challenges of academics together, he's proven to be both needy and comforting. Whether engrossed in gaming or university work, your presence becomes a constant as you find your place on his lap, offering silent support as he tackles tasks. The boundaries between your personal and academic lives blur, but in the chaos, you discover a comfort that transcends the ordinary.

Your relationship remains discreet, known only to those closest to you both. The private nature of your connection shields it from unwanted attention. Despite the potential challenges of not flaunting your relationship on campus, you find solace in his ability to always find a way to be with you. His frequent presence at your house becomes a source of comfort, and the moments he's absent leave an unmistakable void.

Every interaction is amplified in this heightened state of intimacy – eye contact carries newfound depth, touches resonate with electric energy, smiles become contagious, and each make-out session becomes a magnetic force pulling you closer. In this world shared only between you and him, the ordinary transforms into extraordinary moments that you wouldn't trade for anything.

Amidst the intoxicating blend of newfound romance and shared moments, there was one significant aspect that set your relationship apart. Despite being together for three months, the physical intimacy you shared hadn't yet extended to the realm of sex. It wasn't a reluctance on his part, it was you who wasn’t ready. However, there was a mutual understanding that you needed more time before taking that step.

One evening, after another study session that left the desk abandoned for a more comfortable spot on the couch, you initiated a conversation that had been lingering in the background. In the quiet sanctuary of your shared moments, you asked, "Jeno, you're not mad at me that we haven't done it yet, are you?" His response was a gentle shake of the head, accompanied by a reassuring smile. "No, baby, I'm ready when you are." His lips meet yours while you secure your thighs around his sides.

The weight of unspoken emotions lifted, and as your eyes met, you exchanged a silent understanding. "I won't leave you waiting long," you promised, a declaration that sent a delicious thrill down his spine. In that moment, your connection deepened, anchored by patience, respect, and your unspoken promise.

✧ ✧ ✧

It’s Jeno’s birthday. You’ve been planning this day for a little while now, you woke him up with a kiss at midnight, wishing him a happy birthday which led into a heated makeout session. Then when the sun rose, you made him breakfast, his favourite, pancakes and fruit.

He’s currently at his house to see his friends and family, he’s been gone for a few hours and promised you he’d come back for you soon. you’ve meticulously prepared your home for his return. The bedroom is adorned with candles, rose petals and low music creating an intimate ambiance, setting the stage for the surprise you’ve been eagerly anticipating.

You had all his presents in a designated area but the main present was what you were willing to give him, what you were finally ready for. Sunwoo had suggested that you go lingerie shopping.

Sunwoo was someone in your psychology class, you had become friends with him relatively quickly. He reminded you of Jeno, sweet but with a darker side, that’s probably why you got along with him so well. You found yourself conversing with him the most during your classes, opening up about your life, your relationship. Surprisingly, he knew the most about you and Jeno, as a fellow psychology student he was able to give you good advice and lead you towards acting with more emotional intelligence. He gave you a lot of tips for your first time, that explains why you were here, lingerie shopping.

You tried on piece after piece, your eyes lighting at how good they made you feel and look. You couldn’t believe how they accentuate your curves and cleavage, you looked hot and you were sure Jeno would think so too.

And now, you’re adorned in a captivating piece with a silk robe, your excitement palpable. Jeno has texted you that he’s 5 minutes away, nerves and giddiness take over. You’ve invested time in perfecting your makeup and hair, hoping he notices the effort.

“Hey.” You open the door to him, you’re already blushing. Your arms are around him as soon as he enters your house.

“Hey, you look beautiful.” He whispers into your ear kissing your lips briefly. He lets go to hand you over a bouquet of vibrant flowers. The colours seemed to mirror the warmth in his eyes as he extended the bouquet towards you, a silent gesture that spoke volumes of his affection.

“For you.” His gentle smile warms you, or was it his soft lips that he pressed against your cheek?

You thank him with gratitude. “It’s your birthday though.”

“I’m thankful for you.” You sigh, looking at the man who well and truly owns your heart. “It will look good in that vase by the window in my room. Speaking of my room, come with me.” You hand out stretches for him and he takes it then let’s go, you shoot him a confused glance until he suddenly lifts you up. you squel, legs around his waist as he leads you up the stairs and to your room, a journey that he knows too well.

As you enter your room, he gently places you down, his eyes instantly igniting with desire at the sight of you. A breathtaking smile graces his face, a mix of gratitude and admiration evident in his eyes. "Thank you, my love," he murmurs, hand covering his heart, and his gaze overflowing with warmth as it locks onto yours.

"You like it?" you inquire, and a subtle nod is accompanied by a tender embrace, his arms enveloping you securely. He pulls you close, resting his head against your shoulder, an intimate moment filled with unspoken emotions. "I have more gifts for you later, but for now, there's one special gift I want to share."

His anticipation heightens as you guide him to sit on the bed. You notice his eyes deepening with desire, a subtle gulp betraying his eagerness. As you approach, a confident smile plays on your lips. Standing in front of him, you take the lead, revealing the silk robe's buttons.

His breath quickens, a heavy exhale escaping in a mix of impatience and desire. There's a primal urgency in the way he reacts, a husky moan escaping as he practically tears the buttons away, surprising you with his raw intensity, far from the delicate touch you anticipated.

You look him in the eye as you lead his hands to the buttons on your bathrobe, he becomes speechless as he rips the buttons off.

You embody a confidence that is alluring. The lingerie is elegant and sensual, a beautiful mix of silk and lace. The bra is a deep red with gold trimming, while the corset is made from a thin layer of silk with a layer of lace over the top. The panties are cut low on the hips, with a thin lace trim on the edge. The whole look is very feminine and sensual, making you feel like a goddess.

“Y/N…” He moans loudly, fingertips burning into your sides as his eyes roam over you, taking in every inch of your gorgeous and seductive body. “You planned this for me?” Jeno’s voice is a low growl, fingers fumbling with the buttons on your robe, eager to unwrap the gift you’ve prepared.

Your curves are perfect, like a goddess. Your skin is smooth and silky under the moonlight, the lace around your hips draws his attention first, eyes wavering as he doesn’t know where to look. You embody confidence, a goddess in the sultry lingerie — deep red silk with gold trim, a perfect blend of elegance and sensuality. The corset, a delicate layer of silk overlaid with lace, accentuates your curves. His moans echo your allure, fingers burning into your sides as his hungry gaze roams over your captivating figure

The red silk of your bra isn’t covering anything, it’s so see through and he can see your hard nipples peeking through the gold trimming, his mouth watering as he wants to wrap his tongue around the bud of skin, he wants to be sucking your nipples. Everything about you is perfect, from your smooth skin to your slender frame.

“F-Fuck, baby,” he grunts, strong hands, his arm veins bulging out as he’s tugging at the lingerie, unable to contain his impatience. “Need this off. Need to see you.” He says with an impatient growl, the material ripping off and breaking in one swift movement as he palms his erection, hands moving underneath his boxers as you can hear how wet he is

Pouting, you protest, “Jeno, I got this for you. It’s special.”

“I don’t care, baby. I’ll buy you more. Need to feel you,” he replies. You’re left standing bare, his eyes devouring every inch of your exposed beauty. You don’t shy away from his heated gaze, looking you up and down with such fervent and impatience in his expression.

He lets out the loudest moan, eyes lingering on your boobs and your pussy, mouth watering and breath hitched in his throat. “Fuck baby, You’re all mine.” He whispers into your ear, bringing you down onto the bed and then turning the two of you around so you were under him. He palms his clothed erection, leaning down to rub it against your outer core, dry humping but only you were naked. “Do you see how hard you make me? Fuck, you turn me on so much.”

Curiosity takes your hands under his boxers, exploring his length. A soft whimper escapes as you realize the sheer size. Desperate to feel him, your hands glide along, expressing the longing within. “I’ve dreamt of you inside me for so long,” you confess, your voice filled with anticipation.

Locking your gaze in place, he cradles your head, maintaining the connection. His lips explore your breasts with tender kisses, leaving a trail of wetness and red marks. “You’re everything,” you murmur, hands embracing his cock, tracing its length. “I’ve yearned for this.”

You gasp out his name when his lips pepper around your nipple, moving with a delicious ferver, kissing and sucking with equal measure, his tongue darting out to soothe any spot where he's been too rough. He releases your nipple with a loud pop, his loud moan making your pussy acne. His lips move to your interboob, peppering wet kisses along the skin, his trail leaving wetness and red marks.

He locks your head in one place, forcing you to keep your gaze focused on him. “Tell me, how badly do you want me?”

You flutter your eyelashes at him, moaning loudly, breathing frantically. You don’t want to mask yourself, you move your finger inside your clit, dragging it in one swift motion to reveal how wet you are. This action undeniably turns him on, what fucks him up even more is when you brazenly place your digit into his mouth, your unspoken words to demonstrate how wet you are. The taste of you sends a refreshing chill through his taste buds, as your icy sweetness gradually melts and coats his tongue.

“You need to use your words.” He breathes out heavily, ironically he’s struggling to balance breathing and speaking.

You cup his cheeks and hold him close, gently kissing him, your eyes soft and inviting, the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen and it’s driving him crazy, he wants to ruin you yet you’re still acting so fucking cute.

“I want you so fucking bad. I want you to eat my cunt and then fuck my cunt, Jeno, please, baby.”

You feel his hot breath on your face, dark eyes as he comes to whisper against your ear. “So wet and horny for me already, this is better than what I’ve imagined. Look at what a dirty little whore you are for me, so wet for me, begging for me to fuck your cunt.”

You hear a dark chuckle beside your ear and then you’re flipped around, you’re on top of him, you nearly got whiplash from how quickly he grabbed your hips and switched your positions.

“Come and sit on my face.” He commands, a tone that you don’t want to cross with. You’re so turned on, pussy throbbing for him that you forget to move. “Right now.”

“That’s it, baby.” He mumbles against your skin, gripping the meat on your thighs, hands gripping your bare ass to pull you down until you’ve securely framed his face. He can’t help but spank you before delving into your cunt.

His tongue delves into you without warning, your clit throbbing for him. He eats like a man starved, tongue delving into all the right places, eliciting a moan from you. Your thighs shake around his head as he tongue fucks uou at a more accelerated pace, the wetness of your pussy meeting his tongue. He devours all the juices with a groan.

“So fucking tight for me, pretty girl.” He grunts against you, a smooching sound and he kisses your cunt over and over again. “I love how you taste, such a good fucking girl.” He’s filled with praises today.

He makes room for three digits, an act that perplexes you because your cunt seemed so small and his fingers were so long. Your hands squeeze against his roots as he fingers you, his metal rings creating a coldness as he caresses your folds, an upward motion that makes you scream his name.

He tuts at what a dirty girl you’re being when you keep pushing down, your core pressing down so hardly on his nose but you’re so desperate for more, you’re on the verge of becoming undone on his tongue and fingers. Tears prick your eyes, you’re overstimulated at this point, whining and pleading with your eyes but it’s not enough.

“I’m not gonna let you cum yet.”

You cry out. “Why not?”

He doesn’t answer but you know why, it’s because he’s not done.

So you start begging and pleading, you tell him what he wants to hear, pulling at his strings how you know best. “You’re the owner of me.” You smile, thrusting against him as your grip on his hair tightens. “My cunt is all yours.”

He’s silent for a moment, then you feel the sides of his lips curve upwards against you. “All mine.” He whispers, leaving a spongy and chaste kiss against your clit. “I own you cunt.” His tongue laps at a faster rate, it only takes a few seconds for your high to come.

“Cum in me, baby.” You’re shaking above him and screaming out his name, the hot liquid pours into his mouth at once, he savours every last drop, the taste of you sending a delicious thrill down his spine.

As soon as you’ve wind down from your orgasm, you let out a whimper, looking at him with a frustrated pout, tugging on his hair once again. “Fuck me. Now.” He smiles at you, looking you deep in the eyes to capture the moment. He’s frozen in time, you lie there, a captivating beauty that demands attention. Your beauty unfolds gracefully, a canvas of anticipation. Patience graces your demeanour, a cute smile playing on your lips. Eyes wide with eagerness, each breath carries a weight of intensity. Messy hair adds a touch of chaos to the scene, a testament to passion's fervor. Love bites adorn your neck, eyeliner trailing down your face, mascara smudged and lipstick kissed away. Your swollen lips speak volumes. In this enchanting moment, he utters, "So fucking beautiful," and you become entirely his.

“I could just cum looking at you. Fuck baby don’t make me cum yet, it’s all about you.”

You pout. “It’s your birthday.”

He kisses your cheek softly. “It’s all about you.”

He curses suddenly and it draws your surprise, he looks at you with apology, disappointment thick in his eyes. “I forgot to bring protection, what the fuck is wrong with me? It’s the one important –”

You cut him off, a smile playing on your lips as you guide him to your entrance. “I started the pill a month ago.” You have been planning this day. He moans, a mix of being turned on and having adoration for you filling his desires. “You’re so good to me. You’re all mine.” He breathes heavily, lips closing onto yours as he enters you with a big grunt.

The second the sensation hits you, you cry out his name. “Fuck! You’re so fucking big.” You grip onto his forearms, head hitting the pillow as you look down to see where you’re connected, breath moving with anxiety when you realise his tip has only entered you.

“It won’t fit.” You cry out, covering your face with your hands. You navigate a mix of sensations, discomfort and pleasure. Jeno coos in your ear, easing you into him, expertly stretching you out, the discomfort slowly transforms into a growing sensation of pleasure.

“Yes it will.” His words convey the shared ecstasy of the moment, kissing your face softly and whispering praise upon praise as you ease into him, your tense body starting to relax and melt into his. “You’re such a good girl for me, taking me so well.” The connection between you intensifies with each rhythmic motion.

Your boyfriends deep voice echoes, he’s calling you all sorts, his good girl, his baby girl, he’s filled with praises but you're lost in a distant reverie, enveloped in the euphoria of his rhythmic movements, his cock sliding against your walls and reaching a realm so deep. Each thrust brings forth sharp gasps, the intimate connection intensifying as he explores deeper realms of pleasure. The sensation, a culmination of his every movement, is undeniably gratifying, leaving you immersed in the exquisite pleasure of the moment.

“You’re taking me so fucking well.”

Jeno admires the scene, picking up the pace with a faster rhythm, thrusting out just to keep slamming into you. Your toes curl in pleasure, your flushed face and agape mouth reflecting the intensity of the moment. Moans escape your mouth as desire takes over, your eyes glazed with lust, looking down as his hands cup your breasts, each thrust accentuates the pleasure, causing your tits to bounce with abandon.

Intense and breathless, he expresses his overwhelming pleasure with a raw exclamation. responding with short gasps to each thrust. Skin slapping against skin, heavy breaths, his low moans, your calling out of his name and the rhythm of his intense thrusts fill the room, creating a charged atmosphere.

Adjusting your position, he lifts your hips and throws one of your legs over his shoulder, his cock delving into you even deeper. The exquisite sensation elicits a visceral response, your nails finding purchase in the skin of his forearms as pleasure courses through every inch of your being.

You’re quite simply cock drunk. “You’re gonna break my bed.” You scream, the squeaking becoming a constant. He hugs your g-spot over and over, hips moving at speed as you scream his name, back arching and toes curling, making it clear that he's the sole master of your ecstasy in that moment.

You find him utterly breathtaking like this, eyes filled with lust, his muscular scent, sweet sticking to his forehead, his radiant face under the moonlight. His beauty remains undeniable. “You’re mine, only mine,” You declare, this time it’s you solidifying the possessive connection in the midst of the intimate encounter.

“That’s right.” He smirks with satisfaction.

The knot tightens in your stomach and your mind succumbs to a blissful haze. You wrap your legs around his waist and he fucks you in this new position, deeper and harder.

“Jeno, fuck! I’m gonna cum!” you cry out. Hands gripping the sides of his face, smiling as you close the distance, symbolising your connection in a shared kiss.

“Me too, baby, me too.” His eyes rolling to the back of his head, hands roaming your body as his grunts and moans elevate,

“Cum in me.” You let out a small whisper, a heavy sigh of desperation as your pussy feels numb, you see stars behind your eyelids as he coos in your ear. Caught in a post-orgasmic daze, you sense Jeno’s movements slowing, his groans low and primal. As he releases inside you, the intimate connection lingers in the hushed aftermath.

Exhausted but determined, you summon every ounce of strength, gripping onto his shoulders and managing to turn him around. Despite the weariness, you take charge, your wearied efforts transforming into a newfound control as you settle on top of him.

Fatigued but fueled by desire, you climb back onto his cock. The fusion of weariness and desire manifests in every deliberate movement, creating an enticing dance as you reclaim the intimate connection. Guided by a languid rhythm, you move up and down, your movements acquiring a delightful sloppiness and an unbridled sensuality.

“Oh?” He questions, playful and surprised tone as he raises an eyebrow. Despite the confusion, a smirk plays on his lips as he gazes up at you. His eyes, filled with affection, he doesn't question your actions, yielding to your lead as you continue to ride him.

“You gonna ride me baby? Gonna take the lead?” He questions as you straddle him with a sensual grace, your movements creating a mesmerizing rhythm. Each rise and fall is a languid dance, your body moving with a delightful combination of passion and fatigue. The connection between you intensifies, the room filled with the subtle sounds of your shared pleasure. As you ride him, his appreciative gaze reflects both desire and affection, forming a silent but profound connection between your entwined bodies.

While you’re on top, he still has to make it clear that he’s taking the lead, a playful smirk on his lips, as one of his hands guides your movements, orchestrating the rise and fall of your body. The other hand, however, held a more commanding role, wrapping around your throat with a controlled intensity, you struggled for breath and it made you dizzy, your rise and fall on his cock becoming sloppier.

“Dirty slut is so eager to ride my cock but now you’re getting tired?” He hisses, tutting as he shakes his head.

You shook your head, breathing in deep as you put all of your strength into moving up and down his cock, the synchronisation of your bodies became a sensual performance, each deliberate motion met with a reaction that heightened the intimacy. His touch was both guiding and possessive, the mix of sensations sending shivers down your spine. The room echoed with the rhythmic sounds of your shared desire, creating a symphony that underscored the unconventional celebration.

Eventually, as the intensity peaked, he encouraged your surrender. You collapsed onto him, limbs entwined, the air heavy with the scent of passion. His firm hold remained, a subtle assertion of dominance even in the aftermath. Exhausted yet content, you found solace in each other's embrace. Drifting into sleep, the room remained cloaked in the warmth of the shared celebration, a birthday memory unlike any other.

In the tender aftermath, Jeno swiftly leans down to share another kiss, lips melding seamlessly. His touch, now gentle, explores your hair, while your hands cradle his face. Traces of each other linger on your bodies, leaving indelible imprints. The nature of your connection might be uncertain, but a serene tranquillity fills the air as he gazes into your eyes, a gentle smile gracing his face, he utters, "You're so beautiful."

You end up falling asleep in Jeno's warm embrace, limbs tangled with limbs, heart beating as one. Amidst his calming snores, you find a happiness that had eluded you for a long time.

✧ ✧ ✧

Your relationship with Jeno, to simply put it, had developed into something beyond your wildest dream. It had evolved into a cascade of passion, sensuality, and profound love. The intimacy between you two deepened, finding solace in each other's embrace more frequently than ever. However, Jeno's imperfection lies in impatience and an insatiable addiction.

He's hooked on you, craving the essence of your being — your body, the echoes of his name in ecstasy, the taste of your release, the feel of your lips, the warmth of your intimate connection. In a fervent repetition, he murmurs "mine, mine, mine" against your skin, solidifying the possessive claim he's staked over you.

His impatience surfaces as an ever-present yearning. When you're not around, he misses you deeply, and the count of unannounced visits to your door is immeasurable. His unconventional greetings involve sealing his lips against yours, a silent declaration of his longing that often echoes through the early morning hours, punctuated by the sound of your shared passion.

You're equally sucked in the allure of addiction, captivated by Jeno, the enigma you've grown to adore. The depth of your connection extends beyond the fiery passions to the tender embrace of his arms wrapping around you, you feel endless warmth and security. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath your head becomes a lullaby, soothing you into a serene state. In the quiet moments, tangled in each other's limbs, you find solace and an escape from the chaos of the world. Waking up to the tender gaze of his soft eyes and the warmth of his gentle smile has become the cherished highlight of your days.

You’ve become undone by his cock or his tongue in an array of intoxicating positions and locations. In the heat of his car, vacant rooms on campus or when you both escaped to a secluded retreat for three nights, the allure of each moment intensifies. You spent the entirety under sheets, the steamy rhythm of the shower, against walls, upon the floor, and against your desk— every corner of your house has been a canvas for your desires.

His touch, both restrained and blindfolded, adds a layer of mystery and anticipation, creating an irresistible blend of pleasure and surrender. Your lingerie, once delicately clinging to your curves, now bears the marks of his primal hunger, a testament to the wild intensity that defines your connection. The diversity of these encounters paints a vivid picture of your love, leaving an unmistakable imprint on every surface and scrap of fabric shared between you. Each escapade is a symphony of passion, a daring exploration of desire that keeps the flame burning bright in the intimate spaces you've claimed together.

You always find yourself restrained, blindfolded, there hasn’t been a piece of lingerie that hasn’t ripped from your body.

He can be soft too.

The overwhelming sensations he feels for you, the flutters and heavy beating of his heart. The sex between you and Jeno very rarely, but more often than he expected, takes on a soft and sweet rhythm. It’s a realm of vulnerability and tenderness, a side of him unexplored and new, venturing into the realms of vanilla passion.

After dates, he brings you home, his sanctuary, where the air is infused with affection and the scent of shared moments. His lips on every inch of your skin, an exploration of your body. His touches echo with reverence, each inch of your skin becoming a canvas for his affection. The air is filled with soft whispers, intimate and strong eye contact, soft smiles and the gentle hums of each other's names, a private serenade that only the two of you share.

In a surprising deviation from the usual, he doesn’t hastily rip away your lingerie but takes a moment to appreciate the delicate lace and silk adorning you. It becomes an act of love, a departure from the fervour, as he makes love to you whilst you’re adorned in the sensual lace.

Soft smiles exchange like secret promises, and amidst it all, his words echo softly, “my pretty girl,” encapsulating the beauty of the shared connection that transcends the raw passion to unveil a softer, more intimate love.

You've seamlessly integrated into Jeno's life, becoming a constant presence at his house, something that used to scare you but now the boundaries between you and his friends blur. They’re always walking into you and Jeno fucking, you have this acceptance that they have seen you naked.

The unexpected intrusions are sometimes awkward but you’ve learned that your boyfriend secretly loves it, it turns him on. He embraces the fact that they've witnessed you in intimate positions.

There was one memorable evening when Jeno was meant to be preparing dinner for his roommates, Jaemin, Hyuck, and Renjun. However, the evening took an unexpected turn when he found himself utterly distracted by you. What was supposed to be a casual dinner preparation morphed into a passionate encounter, you pushed against the countertop as he fucked into you, the sounds of your pleasure echoing through the walls. Your loud moans carried through the air, and to your surprise, his roommates walked in, initially thinking there was an emergency.

It was a comical yet slightly embarrassing moment, but the incident didn't deter your unabashed enjoyment. You've reached a point where you no longer attempt to stifle your sounds of pleasure, accepting the quirks and unexpected interruptions that come with being an integral part of Jeno's life.

✧ ✧ ✧

While there’s highs in your relationship, there’s undeniable lows. While the passion has increased to another level, so has the arguing.

You remember one time, you were supposed to meet him outside a cinema, he promised to take you out that night, one of your many dates but he never showed up. Instead, he was partying. He spoke to you on the phone, voice filled with apology as he pleaded for you to understand, he quite simply couldn’t get out, it was one of the parties that he attended, it blew out of control.

“I’m sorry baby, I promise I’ll make it up to you.” You heard his apologetic voice, loud music and screams of partygoers in the background.

You’re too frustrated to respond. You hang up the phone with no further words.

You had it planned out in your head, you was gonna give him the intense silent treatment, ignore all his texts and calls, ignore when he rings the bell and most importantly, hold back on kissing or fucking him. Yet here you are at an unreasonable hour, in the front seat of his car, your usual passenger princess role that you had become so accustomed to.

“Y/N.” He gives you a warning, voices a low lull, he wasn’t even looking at you, he stares out the window, gaze distant, refusing to start the car until you gave in to what he wanted.

He knows you’re angry at him. His response to it is what sets you off even more, he’s not said sorry once for standing you up. That’s why you’re acting the way you are, refusing to meet his eyes, dodging his lips when he greeted you, pushing him away when he tried to hug you.

That’s why your hands stay nestled in your lap, you don’t want his contact but eventually you need to give in. Your boyfriend, being the most stubborn person you know, would not start the car until you held his hand, he doesn’t tell you that it’s the reason he’s staying still, jaw locked as he looks out the window but his warning as he called out your name and his outstretched hand is enough to make you sigh in defeat, giving in and taking his hand in yours. He always does this. He drives with one hand if it means that he can hold your hand and touch your thigh with the other.

The second his hand tightened around yours, you feel guilty at how his touch instantly electrified you, sending warm chills down your body. You missed him so much. He finally starts the car, turning to you with that smile you love so much, one that pulls at your heartstring.

As he held your hand with his vacant one, kissing your palm softly.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He’s apologised to you but you take nothing from it.

He sighs, realising that you’re giving him the silent treatment but he still continues his praises and sweet talking to you. “You look so pretty, you don’t think I’ve noticed? I’ll make it all up to you, I promise.”

You gulp, biting your tongue to hold back from breaking down in front of him. It’s true. You’re so dolled up, you spent so long getting ready, smiling once you saw the finished result, the prettiest full face of makeup and one of the dresses Jeno had gifted you, all for the self confidence to come crashing down when he never showed up.

“Aren’t you even gonna ask me why I couldn’t come?” He questions, opening the passenger door for you, hand outstretched to which you ignore.

You cross your arms against your chest. “I don’t care.”

He sighs. “Are you gonna let me stay the night?” He questions, leaning against the car door, eyes searching yours for a hint of forgiveness. The silence between you is heavy, tension palpable in the air.

Finally, you break the silence with a reluctant nod. He smiles, a mixture of relief and gratitude, and you find yourself softening despite your initial resolve.

There was two reasons why you said yes. You did miss him, you’ve become accustomed to falling asleep in his arms and you need him now more than other and the second reason was a bit selfish.

Jeno’s smile fades as he takes in the room with awe, the flickering candles casting shadows that dance across his face. Rose petals are scattered, creating a delicate pathway that seems to lead to a deep well of guilt within him.

“We would be having sex right now, we’d probably be having it all night long but instead you went partying and stood me up.”

His expression shifts, and you sense his internal conflict as he searches for words. “I’m sorry,” he finally utters, the words heavy with sincerity. “Please let me show you how sorry I am. I’ll take you on the best dates for seven nights straight.”

Jeno steps closer, a subtle seduction in his eyes. “Let me try to make it up to you,” he whispers, his voice filled with desperation.

But you stand firm, resisting his advances. “You went partying and stood me up,” you say, frustration coloring your tone. “I’m even wearing something really sexy under this, but it’s your fault that you won’t see it.”

Instinctively, his arms wrap around your waist, he gets whiplash from how fast you jerk away from his touch. His face reflects shock, realizing the consequences of his actions. “You’re not touching me tonight,” you declare, a line drawn in the emotional sand.

Jeno, not used to you rejecting his touch, looks bewildered. “We’re two mature adults,” you continue, your voice firm. “Talk to me about your emotions. I don’t think you’ve ever truly opened up to me.”

"I stayed at the party because of Jaemin, alright? His girlfriend had just dumped him, and he was spiraling out of control. I couldn't leave him alone—I was genuinely worried. You know how he gets, especially with hard drugs in the mix. My instincts were right; without me there, it could've turned into a disaster. He's my best friend, and I have a responsibility to look out for him. I'm truly sorry if my actions hurt you. Next time, I'll handle it better. I want you to know, you're my top priority. You're not my second choice; you're my girlfriend, my girl, and I never want you to feel anything less than my first choice. Always."

You pout, suddenly feeling so guilty. “You should’ve just told me that, next time just tell me the truth, ok? We need communication if this is gonna work.” Your words are punctuated by a tender kiss, a sweet moment as he nods, leaning his head down and resting it against your shoulder.

✧ ✧ ✧

Soft giggles escape your lips, blending with the gentle rustle of leaves as you steal a kiss from him. The world outside becomes a blissful blur, leaving only the two of you in the cocoon of your affection. He looks up at you, moaning softly, his hands gripping the back of your hair to pull you back down to his lips again.

The university campus buzzes with youthful energy, a tapestry of autumn leaves falling gently, creating a mosaic of warm hues. The scent of coffee and distant laughter fills the air, creating an atmosphere of shared dreams and academic pursuits. Amidst this lively backdrop, you and Jeno sit by the beautiful flowers, your favourite summer dress on as he lays his head on your lap, your hands locked as you share a casual lunch on campus with friends.

The sun filters through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground as you lean down to whisper something in his ear, a moment solely for the two of you. In that moment, surrounded by the chatter of friends, you close your lips in on his, the world quieting to the symphony of your happiness.

Your connection with Jeno forms a bubble that shields you from the prying eyes and whispers around you. One unexpected night, Sunwoo’s concern breaks through as you both share the living room, a movie playing in the background.

"Y/N, how is it going with Jeno?" Sunwoo inquires, her words carrying an undercurrent of worry.

A genuine smile lights up your face as you reply, "I'm really happy." However, the joy fades when you see the expression on Sunwoo’s face. "Is everything okay?"

He takes a deep breath, her concern evident. "I care about you, and I just want you to be happy. I can see you're in your honeymoon phase with him, and it's amazing, but please stay careful. I've heard things, and I need you to be aware."

Your head tilts in confusion, and he continues, "People have been mean and jealous, saying horrible things about both of you. I don't want to go into detail, but there are malicious individuals who would do anything to break you two up. Jealousy is a green-eyed devil, and I want you to be cautious. Every time you're seen together on campus, people are talking, and unfortunately, it's not all good. You're drawing a lot of attention, and I need you to be aware of the rumours circulating."

Just like that, your comfort bubble has been shattered. It wasn't his fault; he was being a good friend, and the truth was bound to come to light, considering the magnetic stares that seemed to follow you everywhere. Peering eyes traced your every move, intensifying every time you held hands with Jeno, shared a kiss, or simply engaged in conversation.

Before, you had a shield, a blissful ignorance that shielded you from the judgmental glances and whispered rumours. Now, you have nothing. The weight of those scrutinizing eyes presses down on you, and a surge of anxiety rises within. It's as if the once familiar campus has transformed into a stage where every step is observed and dissected by an unseen audience.

The secure haven you once had with Jeno is now tainted by the awareness of the scrutiny around you. The casual joy you shared now carries a hint of unease as you navigate through the campus, wondering about the malicious whispers and unfounded rumors that threaten to unravel the serenity of your relationship.

The once intimate haven of your relationship now feels exposed, the whole realm shifting under the weight of everyone's knowledge. It's as if an unwelcome spotlight has been cast upon you, and the familiar campus, once a place of shared joy, now echoes with the cruel whispers and judgmental glances that follow you everywhere.

The anxiety, a silent predator, wraps around your chest, constricting with every scrutinizing look. The rude eyes that pierce through your privacy seem to steal away fragments of your self-worth with each passing glance. You feel stripped bare, a vulnerability that leaves you yearning for the comfort of invisibility.

Jeno, seemingly impervious to the storm of judgment, becomes an inadvertent source of envy. These people, with their whispers and stares, never seem to penetrate his shield. He navigates through the campus with an ease that only amplifies the stark contrast to your inner turmoil.

One day, Jeno surprises you with flowers on campus, a tender gesture that should bring joy. But as he leans in for a kiss, you find yourself recoiling, aware of the peering eyes, the whispers, the judgment. His pout mirrors your disconnection as you take the flowers, your voice detached as you mutter a thank you.

He leans forward again, attempting to kiss you, but you dodge it. Surprise flickers in his eyes, replaced by a gentle pout. "Baby?" he questions, reaching out to touch you, but you evade his grasp.

"What's wrong?" he asks, concern lacing his voice.

"I don't want to kiss you because everyone keeps looking at you, at us," you confess, the weight of your unease finally surfacing.

"Y/N..." he begins, his voice a mixture of understanding and frustration, as he tries once more to bridge the gap between you. His eyes search yours with a mix of understanding and concern. “We can’t let people do this to us, this is us, me and you and the last thing I’ll let people do is dictate our relationship and make you uncomfortable.”

You try to focus on him, his smile, his soft words, his caring demeanour but all you can feel is the attention from outsiders. Your hands tremble imperceptibly, breathing becomes a conscious effort, each inhale and exhale a struggle against the weight of judgment hanging in the air. Your heart, a delicate percussion, echoes the rhythm of your anxiety, its beats amplified in the silent turmoil.

Tears, uninvited, well up in your eyes, and as you nod, they cascade down your cheeks, a tangible manifestation of the emotional toll. In that moment, vulnerability wraps around you like a heavy cloak. It feels as though you’ve done something wrong, an unspoken guilt that weakens your resolve.

The world outside blurs through the veil of tears, intensifying the sense of fragility that envelopes you. Jeno's tender touch wipes them away, his fingertips brushing softly against your skin. His eyes mirror an understanding so deep that it feels like a comforting embrace.

"Hey," he whispers, turning towards you with the softest voice, a gentleness that envelops you like a warm blanket. Leaning down, he cups your face, his touch gentle and reassuring. Everything else fades into a distant hum as you melt into him.

"Look at me," he urges, his eyes a haven of empathy. Your gaze meets his, and the vulnerability that you've felt transforms into a shared moment of intimacy. Jeno's presence becomes a blockage, shielding you from the judgmental world outside.

"Keep your eyes on me, not them," he murmurs, his words a balm to your wounded spirit. In that quiet exchange of glances, your heart slowly begins to relax. Jeno's comforting presence, combined with the unspoken promise in his eyes, creates a sanctuary where vulnerability is met with love, and every tear is met with the tenderness of understanding.

Feeling the reassurance of Jeno's presence, a warmth blooms in your chest. As he wipes away the last of your tears, you're overwhelmed by the tenderness in his eyes. Unable to resist the urge, you bridge the small gap between you, pressing a sweet, grateful kiss against his lips.

As the kiss lingers, Jeno pulls back, his eyes searching yours with concern. "Is anyone being mean to you?" His voice takes on a protective edge, a sincerity that resonates through the words. "If they are, I'll deal with them. I won't let anyone hurt you."

“I’ll tell you if anything happens.” You whisper. Jeno’s eyes search yours with a sincerity that demands your attention. “Promise me,” he implores, his voice a gentle plea.

"I promise." you affirm, instinctively outstretching your pinky, a whimsical gesture that seals promises between the two of you.

But Jeno, momentarily disregarding the lighthearted tradition, leans in and seals the promise with a sweet kiss. The warmth of his lips lingers, and a playful smile dances across his face. "You can't break it now." he teases, the gravity of the moment lightening.

You nod, the weight of the promise settling in your heart. "I won't." you assure him, a sense of determination in your eyes.

"I got you, Y/N."

✧ ✧ ✧

You don’t keep your end of the promise.

You and Jeno were on one of your many dates, except this one was the most luxurious of all. He had taken you to a a high-end dining establishment where opulence meets culinary excellence. As you step into this gastronomic haven, the ambiance drips with luxury. Chandeliers, resplendent in their crystal glory, cast a warm and flattering glow upon the tastefully adorned surroundings.

There was an atmosphere of sophistication. The air is laced with the subtle scent of exclusive fragrances, adding to the sensory experience. Every detail, from the meticulously arranged silverware to the plush velvet seating, screams extravagance.

The entire upper floor was just for you. Seclusion embraced the space as you and Jeno reveled in each other. Wrapped in a corset top that accentuated your every curve, you felt the warmth of Jeno's gaze fixated on the allure of your silhouette. A daring mini black skirt that barely covered your ass.

A long coat provided a modesty, concealing the sensual ensemble beneath. The promise of privacy on this exclusive floor lingered, and as the door closed behind you, the coat slipped away, unveiling an enticing look reserved solely for Jeno's eyes.

In the dimly lit, darkened expanse of the top floor, a sexy ambiance enveloped you both. The low music set the tone, creating an intimate atmosphere where only the sultry sounds of Jeno's low moans and your soft hums echoed, blending seamlessly with the alluring surroundings. Seated on plush furnishings, the connection ignited as you found solace on his lap. Jeno wasted no time, roughly removing your underwear and your corset, your boobs bouncing as you jumped up and down his cock.

Boyfriend air was real. You had radiated beauty before he picked you up – your makeup meticulously enhancing your features, and your hair styled with grace. Yet, now you sit here, a mess. His kisses had erased every last trace of makeup.

"Baby, stay here," he whispers, his warm breath lingering against your lips. "I'm just getting the bill." Leaning down, he plants a tender kiss on your forehead, sealing the promise of a swift return.

"Do you wanna come over to mine?" he suggests with a playful grin. You nod, your arms instinctively looping around his neck. "I'll drive us home," he declares, a warmth in his eyes. In that moment, it's clear – you just want to be with him, wherever the night may lead.

In the softly lit ambiance of the upscale restaurant, you patiently wait for him, preparing to put on your bra and top. Unexpectedly, an unwelcome intrusion disrupts the tranquility. Your mouth hangs open in shock, and before you can react, your chest is briefly exposed as a female waitress enters the room.

Quickly, you grab your coat to cover yourself, staring at her with a mix of surprise and discomfort. "What the hell?" escapes your lips, a blend of embarrassment and frustration.

You recall her as your waitress for the night, part of the restaurant's unique service where each floor and couple has a dedicated server. The bell, your discreet summoner, has been unrung, making her presence inappropriate.

She looks at you with a hint of disdain, and the encounter triggers a familiar sense of vulnerability. The ambiance of the restaurant feels stark, and the unexpected exposure intensifies your embarrassment. The thin fabric of the coat becomes a modest shield, but the discomfort lingers.

As you lock eyes with the waitress, who seems to take pleasure in your discomfort, memories of past judgmental stares resurface, adding to your unease. The sanctuary you usually find with Jeno is momentarily disrupted, replaced by an uncomfortable sense of exposure. The discomfort you've navigated with Jeno's support resurfaces, threatening to overwhelm you.

Recognizing her now, you realize she's a fellow student at your college. The slight awkwardness you noticed during her service takes on a new significance. You remember the way her eyes seemed to light up, especially when serving Jeno, which triggered a fleeting sense of jealousy. But it's a feeling you've grown used to – after all, Jeno is a heartthrob and everyone wants him.

While a twinge of jealousy briefly pricked at you, Jeno remained blissfully unaware of the waitress's admiration. It simply didn't register on his radar. He's become accustomed to such attention, unfazed by occasional glances and admirations. To him, these moments are like passing breezes – gentle and unnoticed.

Seated arrogantly on the table in front of you, she exuded an air of contempt, her eyes reflecting the rudeness that her entire demeanour conveyed. From the start of the night, her motives were glaringly apparent. You initially dismissed it as mere overthinking, the disinterest as she served you, the muttered words and the frigid expression with frozen eyes heightened your sense of unease. However her attention was completely different towards Jeno, it went from blatant flirtation to being overly helpful and kind.

"You know, seeing you with Jeno is disappointing. He deserves so much better. I don’t think you realize what a downgrade you are for him," she sneered, her words laden with contempt.

With a sinister grin, she continued, "Every other girl he’s been with beats you, by miles. In looks, in sex…"

As she casually mentioned sharing an intimate moment with Jeno, she revealed a video that sent tears streaming down your face. It’s taken from earlier, a moment you shared in solace but your feel vulnerable and exposed knowing she had been watching the whole time. The hurt intensified as she criticized your appearance and demeaned your connection with Jeno.

"Why the fuck have you filmed this?" you demanded, the raw emotion evident in your voice.

"Do you see how ugly you look? Watching this nearly made me sick. You’re not pleasing Jeno the way he deserves. You’re too soft and vanilla. Having slept with Jeno myself, he’s probably the best sex I’ve ever had. It's a shame he can't be rough with you because you're too much of a pussy," she taunted.

She questioned the authenticity of Jeno's feelings, suggesting he was using you as a distraction. Her venomous words stung as she predicted an inevitable heartbreak for you.

"I want him. And so does every other girl. It’s not fair that he’s with you. One day he’s gonna go back to his fuckboy ways. Just watch," she warned, her possessiveness on full display.

"Now you will stay away from him. I’m warning you now. Do not cross me. It will not be good if I see you together next week," she threatened, leaving a chilling anticipation hanging in the air.

As she cruelly exposed the intimate details of your relationship, tears streamed down your face, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. The room seemed to close in, an overwhelming wave of emotions crashing over you. Anxiety took hold, its silent fingers wrapping around your heart, squeezing with an invisible force.

Your breaths became shallow and rapid, as if the air itself was too heavy to inhale. A lump formed in your throat, choking back words that yearned to be spoken. The world around you blurred, a disorienting haze settling over your vision. Your hands trembled involuntarily, the once steady limbs now betraying your emotional turmoil.

In the depths of your anxiety, your mind became a battleground of negative thoughts. Each word uttered by her echoed, fueling self-doubt and insecurity. It felt as though the walls were closing in, the room shrinking to an oppressive confinement.

Moments later, Jeno returns, sensing the shift in your mood. The weight of sadness on your face doesn't escape his notice, concern knitting his features. He kneels in front of you, gently taking your hand in his.

"Baby?" he whispers, his eyes reflecting genuine worry. "Are you okay?"

You're taken aback by his perceptiveness, having mastered the art of hiding your true feelings. Despite your practiced smile, he sees through the facade.

"I'm fine, baby," you assure, the words a feeble attempt to shield him from your inner turmoil. A smile, though not reaching your eyes, plays on your lips. "Thank you for today." The gratitude is sincere, your heart warmed by his caring presence.

✧ ✧ ✧

As your fingers intertwine in the quiet of the car, he glances at you with a comforting smile. "Looks like there's a bit of traffic, we’ll be home in around a half hour." he mentions, the hum of the engine accompanying his words.

However, you're not fully tuned into the conversation. Instead, your attention is drawn to the night sky, captivated by the celestial wonders above. Animatedly, you share stories of constellations and the cosmic ballet, your voice weaving tales of the stars as the car meanders through the urban night.

A warm smile graces his lips, capturing the sparkle in your eyes. Spontaneously, he parks the car near a vacant mountaintop, city lights far below. The celestial canvas unfolds as you continue your stargazing dialogue.

Nestled in the open boot of Jeno's car, you find comfort against his body, head resting on his chest. Gazing at the stars, he whispers sweet reassurances in your ear, the night sky a celestial canvas where your anxiety gently fades, even if just momentarily.

Jeno kisses your forehead with a whispered question. You’re now standing side by side as you’re looking up at the stars and he’s looking at you. “Are you feeling better?”

As a contented sigh escapes your lips, you revel in the solace of being with him, the night sky weaving a temporary spell on your anxiety but you know this won’t last, you know the second you close your eyes tonight the real battle will start.

Choosing to shield him from worry, you offer a gentle smile and a subtle nod when he asks. "Yeah, I'm feeling better now.” you assure him, your words carrying a touch of gratitude. Your heart swells with appreciation for the unexpected haven he created atop the mountain.

Leaning into the warmth of his chest, you express your thanks for the day, the words a tender acknowledgment of his efforts. Deep down, you cherish the genuine concern in his eyes, but for now, the desire to spare him unnecessary worry guides your actions.

“I don’t buy it.” he looks at you sternly, lips dodging yours, a serious expression in his face.

"Jeno, please," you implore, the words hanging in the air. However, as he meets your gaze, captivated by the sheer beauty reflected in your eyes, he momentarily forgets what he was about to say. The softness in your expression, the way you look at him, sweeps away his train of thought. There's a pause, a moment where words fade into the background, as he's lost in the warmth of your gaze and the radiance that surrounds you. Eventually, a gentle smile curves on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the distraction your beauty has become.

His words caress the air, "Pretty girl." His voice is a low whisper, his fingers tenderly tracing the contours of your lips with the most captivating of smiles. It sends a poignant ache through your heart, the way he looks at you making you feel intense guilt. You fight back the tears that threaten to surface.

He’s still looking at you with concern, eyes searching yours for an answer. You don’t know how else to react. Desiring distraction, you impulsively lean in, seeking solace in the press of your lips against his, momentarily abandoning the conversation you had intended. Your fingers instinctively coil around the fabric of his shirt, his arms winding around your waist, drawing you into an intimate embrace. The dance of his mouth against yours unfolds, a gentle nip on your lower lip elicits a hushed gasp. Seizing the moment, he delves deeper, intertwining his tongue with yours in a tender kiss.

A smile graces his lips in the midst of your shared closeness and it seems like the imposing conversation has flown from his mind too. Your fingers weave through the strands of his hair, cherishing the softness as the warmth of his body provides a transient sanctuary from lingering concerns.

Jeno gracefully lowers himself, knees bending as his hands anchor at the back of your thighs. A swift jump and your legs encircle his waist, his firm grip ensuring your support. Lips reconnect, and he navigates effortlessly to his car. He’s glad that you guys have no company.

Amidst the soft glow of candlelight, an unexpected intimacy unfolds. You discover a new vantage point, perched on a shared blanket under the moonlit sky. You’re met with the familiarity of his car, the boot. You’re surprised when the position remains, you on top. You move even closer in his hold, a comfortable perch on his lap as your knees close in on either side of his hips. “Take this shit off.” He moans against your lips, smiling against your lips as you get in an awkward position so he can remove your skirt swiftly. Simultaneously, you unzip his trousers, freeing his cock from his pants, while he removes your lace panties.

His hands trace the curves of your thighs, fingers gripping the exposed skin, dangerously dancing near the skin of your pussy while your mouth melds with his.

“Already wet for me? Good girl.” He coos in your ear, one finger dipping in and out your pussy, covered in slick.

“Need you.” You cry out, he coos at how patience you’ve been for him as he grips your thighs, eyes looking softly into yours as he lowers you down onto his cock, the two of you moaning at the sensation of you adjusting immediately, he fits snugly into you, your walls instinctively accustomed to the feeling.

In the midst of tears, you whisper, "Jeno, you make me feel so much." Your emotions overwhelm you as you begin kissing every inch of his face, attempting to convey the depth of your sentiments.

You start with his forehead, the site of countless moments etched with shared laughter and joy. A gentle kiss lands there, a silent acknowledgment of the happiness he's brought into your life. Moving to his eyebrows, you trace the familiar arcs that crinkle with every teasing smile. Your lips linger, savoring the warmth of memories held in those expressive lines.

Kissing the bridge of his nose, you recall the adorable way it scrunches when he's deep in thought or playfully annoyed. Each touch becomes a silent tribute to the idiosyncrasies that make Jeno uniquely himself. Continuing to his closed eyelids, you remember the countless times you’ve dreamed of him and the security you find in the serenity of those closed eyes.

As you plant a tender kiss on his cheeks, the echoes of laughter and stolen moments resonate in your mind. You're acutely aware of the bittersweet weight behind the gesture, acknowledging the beauty of what was and the pain of what might never be again.

Finally, your lips find their way to his trembling mouth, sealing an unspoken promise of love and gratitude. In this melancholic dance of affection, you navigate the terrain of his features, each kiss a melancholy ode to the intricate mosaic of your shared experiences.

Jeno looks at you with a mixture of tenderness and concern, his eyes mirroring the emotions reflected in your tear-stained gaze. As your whispered confession hangs in the air, his fingers gently lift to graze your cheek softly.

The room feels heavy with unspoken sentiments, and Jeno's expression softens even more as he breaks away from your lips. His hand cradles your face, thumb gently brushing away the lingering traces of sadness. There's a depth of emotion in his eyes as he looks into yours.

He doesn't utter a word, but his actions speak volumes. Leaning in, Jeno captures your lips in a soft, reassuring kiss. It's a gentle promise, a silent affirmation that he's there with you, navigating the intensity of emotions together. His arms wrap around you, creating a cocoon of warmth and solace.

Jeno's touch is a blend of warmth and desire as he navigates your trembling body, his hands exploring the curves that respond to his every movement. Your sighs intertwine with his name, creating a symphony of longing and pleasure, while your shaky hands find solace on his sculpted shoulders. Biting your lip, you surrender to the heightened sensations as his grip on your thigh tightens, helping as you rise and fall on his cock.

His breath, laden with desire, mingles with yours, the air heavy with the intensity of your connection, your ass meeting your thighs. "Good girl," he murmurs, smiling behind the pleasure as you rise and fall on his cock with a determination in his eye. His praise ignites a new wave of sensations. Your eyes, lost in ecstasy, roll back, and the room echoes with the symphony of whimpers and cries that escape your lips when he consistently hits the sweet spot

“I need your cum in me.” you whine, the words catching in your throat as your body responds to the intensifying pleasure, a gentle band tightening around the depths of your core.

“I’m gonna fill you up with me, baby.” he moans, his voice a low, longing murmur. Jeno lowers his thumb to your clit, gliding down to trace delicate circles. The sudden touch makes you shiver, tension building within you as the sensations cascade through your body.

In the throes of ecstasy, you arch against him, a cascade of whimpers and moans escaping your lips. Jeno is attentive to your every reaction, synchronized in the dance of shared desire. Your cries become a symphony that resonates with him, each pulse of pleasure bringing you closer to a shared climax.

“My love.” you cry out, the endearment slipping out involuntarily, and it resonates deeply with Jeno. The intimate connection amplifies, pushing him over the edge. He responds with a fervent moan, releasing his pent-up passion inside you, a high-pitched resonance you’ve never heard before.

As the climax ebbs, you collapse onto him, exhaustion mingling with the lingering pleasure. Tears stream down your face, a release of emotions intertwined with the raw intensity of the moment. Your hands clench onto his back, holding on as if he could slip away.

In the aftermath, Jeno cradles you with a tender smile, maintaining the intimate connection. His gaze holds a vulnerability that transcends physicality, mirroring the delicate strokes of a poet. His fingers brush away your tears, tracing the paths of emotions etched on your flushed face.

With unspoken understanding, the room is filled with shared sorrow. Jeno’s tears join yours, creating a poignant language that weaves your stories together. In this silent dialogue of vulnerability, your connection strengthens.

In the tender aftermath, Jeno's eyes reveal a different vulnerability. With a gentleness that mirrors the delicate touch of a poet, he brushes away the tears that linger on your flushed cheeks. His fingers trace the paths of emotions etched on your face. As his thumb captures a glistening tear, you feel your sorrow enveloping the room.

Gazing into each other's eyes, you find solace in the authenticity of the moment. Jeno's gaze mirrors and you stay in silence, he’s still inside of you.

Breaking the silence, Jeno's voice, soft yet filled with genuine concern, pierces through the intimate atmosphere. His eyes still search yours as he whispers, "Tell me what you feel." The unspoken question lingers, he’s referencing earlier, inviting you to unravel the layers of emotions that intertwine your souls, creating a canvas painted with shared vulnerability and desire.

Jeno's touch is tender as he brushes away your tears, his fingers delicately tracing the paths of emotions etched on your face. The subtle quiver in his breath reveals the depth of his empathy, and you notice a glistening tear escaping from the corner of his eye, mirroring the vulnerability that binds you both.

His thumb moves gently across your cheek, capturing the teardrop, while his own tears fall freely. There's a shared sorrow in this moment, an unspoken understanding that transcends words. Jeno's emotions, laid bare, create a poignant connection between you, deepening the bonds that bind your hearts.

The weight of unspoken pain becomes palpable, threatening to engulf you in a sea of vulnerability. In response, you shake your head, a feeble attempt to ward off the imminent exposure of your innermost self. The fear of appearing fragile and broken takes hold—it's a dangerous territory you've meticulously avoided, a realm where the façade you've worn like armor is at risk of crumbling.

As he wipes away your tears, his gaze meets yours, expressing a silent solidarity. In that intimate exchange, you find solace in the raw authenticity of shared emotions. Jeno's teary eyes reflect not only your pain but also the profound connection that weaves your stories together. It's a moment suspended in time, where tears become the language of emotions too profound for words.

"I know what you feel; I feel it too," he whispers, his voice a soothing balm to the ache in your heart. The connection deepens as you both acknowledge the profound emotions that bind you, creating a shared sanctuary where vulnerability is met with empathy. It's a testament to the strength of your relationship, forged in the crucible of genuine emotions that only serve to strengthen the bond you share.

A quiet gasp escapes as emotions swirl within, you take a deep breath, the weight of your emotions nearly overwhelming. In the quiet intimacy of the moment, you muster the courage to speak the words that have been echoing in your heart.

"I... I'm scared, Jeno," you stammer, anxiety coursing through your veins like an electric current. Your heart races, and a subtle tremor invades your voice as you grapple with the overwhelming fear of confessing your emotions. The vulnerability in your words echoes the symptoms of anxiety—palpitations, a tightening chest, the fear of judgment that clings to every syllable.

Despite the paralyzing fear, you know you must tell him. You summon the courage to speak. "I love you so much that it hurts, Jeno," you admit, the words escaping in a breathless whisper. The admission carries the weight of both joy and fear, but amidst the internal turmoil, you yearn for a connection that transcends words, searching desperately for affirmation in his eyes. His boyish smile transforms into a warm and tender expression, tears streaming down. He's still inside of you, his presence lingering, and as he releases again, his hands gently cup your face, providing a moment of solace in the midst of the emotional storm.

"I love you too," Jeno whispers, his voice carrying a depth of emotion that mirrors your own. You hold each other tightly, your bare bodies pressed together, a mosaic of emotions etched across the canvas of your entwined forms. His toned chest provides a firm foundation, your breasts gently molded against the warmth of his skin. The lingering connection down there serves as a silent testament to the profound intimacy you've embraced.

Heavy breathing and panting compose a symphony, resonating with the echoes of shared desires. His arms, strong and secure, wrap around your back, creating a cocoon of intimacy. Fingers trace soothing patterns along the contours of your spine, and as you hold onto his shoulders, your tears find refuge in the curve of his neck.

In the midst of this physical closeness, you look into each other's eyes. His smile, though filled with tears, radiates warmth and acceptance, a poignant expression of love. Yet, in your gaze, there is no hint of happiness—only a profound sadness reflected in your tear-streaked face as you sob, the weight of vulnerability heavy on your shoulders.

The head fogs with unspoken words, each heartbeat echoing the ache of a love destined to unravel. Tears cascade down your cheeks, silent witnesses to the profound pain etched in your soul. Amidst the shared tears, he cries too, not realizing the true depth of your sorrow. He’s weeping because he senses your love, yet the cruel irony is that you, burdened by the impending departure, are the one who must leave.

As your tears mingle in the dance of heartbreak, the weight of impending separation hangs heavy. He can’t hear the words echoing in your head, nor understand the agony etched onto your face. This poignant moment, laden with unspoken goodbyes, is a symphony of sorrow.

✧ ✧ ✧

It starts off with feeble excuses, claiming sickness or the need to study. Each call and text from him goes unanswered, as you detach yourself without warning or explanation. On campus, you avoid his gaze, finding excuses to leave, trapping yourself in a web of avoidance.

Friends, unaware of the storm within, continue their routines, oblivious to your isolation. You become a ghost, fading from gatherings, leaving them in the dark about the torment devouring your soul.

His house, once a refuge, stands untouched by your presence. Dates become relics of the past, and everything shared dissolves into a haunting silence. You ghost him, ignore him, disappearing without a trace. The places where you once showed up now remain empty, a stark reminder of the void you've become.

In this self-imposed exile, you grapple with the agony of your emotions, feeling the weight of isolation press down on you. The world around you moves forward, while you remain suspended in emotional paralysis, unable to break free from the chains that bind you.

The sun-drenched campus feels both familiar and distant as you navigate its pathways, ensnared in your isolation. Suddenly, Sunwoo appears, concern etched across his face. Startled, you jump at his presence, forgetting how to act around people. Anxiety, that insidious disease, tightens its grip.

"Y/N," Sunwoo calls out, his voice breaking through the suffocating silence.

"Sunwoo," you cry out, seeking instant comfort from him. You allow yourself to melt into his warm embrace, tears escaping as thoughts of Jeno intensify the ache in your chest. You miss him—miss his touch, miss the simplicity of your connection.

"Tell me everything," Sunwoo urges, his voice a gentle plea.

And you do. You spill the fragments of your shattered heart, revealing how you and Jeno were once strong until the world intruded, shattering the delicate bubble of your love. The honeymoon phase faded, replaced by imperfections and external pressures. You couldn't bear the stares, the rudeness, the guilt for simply being in love. It felt like you were an enemy, an intruder in a world that refused to accept your connection.

You recount Seoyeon's cruel warning, the video, her words a venomous echo in your mind. The weight of her threat compounds your already fragile emotional state. Sunwoo listens, his comforting presence a temporary respite from the storm within. Before he hugs you, you just stare at him and sob. His gaze doesn't hold judgment, and the rarity of that these days breaks you. It's a poignant moment where you realize he doesn't see you as someone who's done something wrong.

As you cry in his arms, the release of emotions is accompanied by a profound sense of trust. You never did anything wrong, and Sunwoo, understanding that, becomes a pillar of support. The rarity of finding someone who doesn't look at you with condemnation in these trying times makes you melt into him. You know you can trust him—always have and always will.

Sunwoo rocks you back and forth in his arms, offering a comforting refuge from the storm within. As tears stream down your face, he speaks softly, his words carrying a pain that resonates deeply.

"You love him?" he questions, the ache in his voice weaving a tale of pain that doesn't entirely make sense to you.

You nod, biting your tongue to stifle the sobs threatening to escape. "I'm scared," you admit, the vulnerability laid bare.

He shakes his head gently, a determined glint in his eyes. "You love him. Fuck everyone else." The weight of his words settles in, a declaration that in this tumultuous journey, your love is what matters. In his embrace, the fear eases, replaced by a flicker of courage to face the uncertain path ahead.

✧ ✧ ✧

As you sit peacefully on the campus, absorbed in your thoughts, Chaeyoung, Nagyung, and Seoyeon approach with an air of hostility. Their presence feels like a dark cloud disrupting the tranquility around you. Nagyung shoots you a venomous glare, and the atmosphere becomes tense. Suddenly, you're transported back to a painful memory – your date with Jeno, tainted by Nagyung's threats and bullying.

Nagyung's voice pierces through the present moment, her words echoing the past torment. "Jeno is still posting photos of you two on his Instagram. Did you not take my warning seriously?" The mention of Jeno's name sends shivers down your spine, reopening old wounds. Despite the tears welling in your eyes, you choose to ignore them, desperate to shield yourself from the emotional assault. The intrusive trio persists, invading your personal space and freedom of mind.

As you endure their taunts, tears well in your eyes, a silent defense against the emotional onslaught. Avoiding their gaze, you refuse to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

Despite your efforts to stay composed, Nagyung persists with another warning, this time invoking a sense of dread. She mentions the video with a snarl on her face. The mere thought intensifies your desperation to escape this distressing encounter, as their toxic words become increasingly unbearable. The urgency to distance yourself grows, making finding an exit your sole focus.

Their taunting has drawn a growing crowd, creating an overwhelming sensory experience. The stares and harsh words blend into a chaotic scene. Desperate to escape, you find your voice locked within, and your body feels paralyzed, as if controlled by an unseen force. In this moment, anger surges. You want to fight back, to regain control over your voice and movements, but an invisible restraint keeps you confined,

Sunwoo arrives, exuding a striking handsomeness that momentarily captures attention. His face bears a concerned expression as he looks at you, offering reassurance with a simple, "It's okay, I'm here." While he defends you against the trio, the ringing in your head and heightened anxiety make it difficult to decipher his words.

Certain phrases cut through the mental fog: "What's wrong with you?" and "You're all pathetic." He delivers a menacing warning, promising consequences, each word dripping with venom that silences the three girls who look stunned. Sunwoo, typically composed, adopts an unfamiliar rudeness, threatening the trio with a stern expression you've never witnessed before. The stark contrast leaves you both surprised and comforted, a mixture of emotions swirling as Sunwoo wipes away your tears.

Sunwoo's defense sparks a glimmer of hope within you, and your eyes light up with gratitude. As he smiles in reassurance, you make an effort to reciprocate, forcing a smile back, though feelings of unworthiness linger beneath the surface.

Witnessing him defend you creates a moment of vulnerability, you find yourself getting lost in his presence. Sunwoo gently wipes away your tears. Soft whispers escape his lips, words so sweet they make you giggle. Were you getting lost in his eyes?

His question breaks your trance "Where's your boyfriend?"

"I don't know, Sunwoo," you reply, your mind swirling with the reminder that you've ignored all of his texts.

"He should be here," Sunwoo asserts, concern etched on his face.

"It's not his fault," you instinctively defend him, your words flying past Sunwoo as he changes the subject.

"Do you want to come with me?" His hand gently rests on your back, a comforting touch that lights up a spark within you.

"Where?" you inquire, curiosity blending with uncertainty.

"Somewhere away from here," Sunwoo suggests, the idea hanging in the air.

"I don't—" you begin, caught in contemplation. The uncertainty about the proposal lingers, leaving you unsure if it's a good idea.

Finally, Jeno enters the scene, and an immediate tension envelopes the surroundings. Immature behaviour unfolds between him and Sunwoo, their gazes locking with an intensity laced with rudeness. The air thickens with arguments, and the perpetual tension that seems to shadow you becomes overwhelmingly stifling.

As you prepare to confront both of them, Jeno beats you to it. His eyes communicate a stern warning to Sunwoo, their locked gaze speaking volumes. In Jeno's intense stare, you sense an undercurrent of jealousy. He doesn't need words; the warning is implicit, especially as his eyes fixate on where Sunwoo's hand lingers on your back.

Sunwoo doesn't back away, he’s aching every second that you’re in this broken state. His frustration boils over. "Where the hell have you been?" His raised voice is directed at Jeno, who responds defiantly, "Shut up, Sunwoo, I swear to—"

"You're twiddling your thumbs while Seoyeon —" Sunwoo's words are cut off as he glances at you, his eyes softening instantly as he reads the silent plea in yours. Shaking your head, you silently beg him not to reveal the truth to Jeno.

"Sunwoo, stop it. Don't talk to Jeno like that," you interject, trying to diffuse the escalating tension. Sunwoo sighs, a heavy sadness lingering in his heart, all he wants to do is protect you but he also wants to respect your wishes.

Finally turning to Jeno, you realise you can't avoid him forever. You're a bit of a mess, dishevelled hair and tear-streaked cheeks. Jeno notices immediately and his eyes soften, his heart strings tugging and without a word, he pulls you into a comforting hug. You melt into his chest, shaking hands gripping onto his biceps. You hum in familiarity as he wraps his arms around you tighter. “I’m right here, baby.”

His fingers gently smooth out your hair, and he delicately kisses your face, his fingers following to wipe away your tears. You look up at him as if he holds your world. He has an undeniable hold on your heart. "Come with me," he suggests, and though you're initially reluctant, he pleads, "Please, Y/N."

"Don't you trust me?" Jeno asks, his eyes holding a sincerity that softens your defences. "I do," you respond, shedding silent tears as you hold his hand, letting him lead you away from the prying eyes.

Before parting, he kisses you softly, and in that vulnerable moment, everyone's eyes seem to be on you.

You catch sight of Seoyeon and Sunwoo, your breathing calming as you catch him defending your name. You watch as he snatches her phone from her with a relentless and anger that’s unpalatable, he must look crazy to others but you know what he’s doing. You feel a warmth in your senses, the cloud in your mind finally starting to dissolve when you see him navigate her phone. He’s deleted the video.

Jeno wraps his arm around you, a protective shield from the cruel stares and whispers. As he kisses your cheek softly, you find solace in the intimacy of the moment.

✧ ✧ ✧

In the familiar setting of Jeno's room, clad in his clothes post a shared shower, emotions swirl between you two. The act of cleaning each other felt tender, the guilt growing as his lips pressed against every inch of your body, each kiss carrying an unspoken declaration of the depth of his love for you. Jeno leans down, the rawness in his voice echoes, "I've missed you so much." The question hangs, "Have you missed me?"

Instead of verbalising, you lean forward, putting your mind off the pain by doing what you know best. Your lips press against his, a rough and passionate collision. There's an urgency as your lips connect, a mingling of longing and desire. The kiss deepens, and you bite down roughly on his bottom lip. As the kiss progresses, heavy breaths mix. The roughness of the kiss mirrors the intensity of your feelings, making every moment linger in the air.

Pulling away, Jeno gazes into your eyes, understanding etched in his expression. "You can always talk to me. I'm always waiting for you," he reassures.

Jeno silently leads you somewhere, and as you realize it's the room where the project is, you express, "Jen, I don't feel like working on the project now."

He gently hushes you and urges, "Just follow me."

In a secluded corner of the project space, Jeno guides you into an unexpected, confined pod. The air is charged with tension as he gently guides you to sit down, taking your hand in his. As he kneels before you, you glance around in confusion—this isn't the collaborative space you had developed; it's *your* pod.

"Jeno, what's going on? This is supposed to be our demonstration pod for the presentation." you exclaim, your worry evident.

Jeno, undeterred, whispers, "I don't care about the presentation right now." Holding your hand tighter, he reveals a pod personalised just for you—your favourite scent of vanilla, your favourite song filling the air with soothing melody, and a colour palette of soft lavender, muted gold, and touches of black. Images of blooming cherry blossoms and gentle ripples on a serene pond adorn the walls, creating a tranquil and visually pleasing environment.

Overwhelmed, you can't fathom how Jeno knows all these intimate details you've never shared. Tears well up in your eyes, and you ask, "How did you...?"

"I know you better than you think." Jeno says softly, wiping away your tears. "Let's do some mindfulness exercises together. It might help."

As Jeno leads you through deep breaths and visualisation, your internal struggle intensifies. The stress of using this personal creation for an impromptu session gnaws at you, overshadowing the intended therapeutic effect.

"We're going to get in trouble, Jeno." you stammer between breaths, your anxiety rising.

"I don't care about that right now. I care about you." Jeno replies, his voice steady but filled with concern.

However, you are too far gone. Jeno's efforts, genuine as they are, can't penetrate the walls of your distress. Realisation dawns on Jeno's face—he can't help someone who isn't ready to be helped. Holding your face in his hands, a tear escapes his eye.

"I love you. I want to help you." Jeno pleads. "My heart is breaking seeing you like this. Why won't you let me in?"

Sobbing, you abruptly stand up and leave the pod, leaving Jeno behind with a shattered expression. "I told you I loved you." he whispers, watching you disappear, unable to comprehend why you chose to leave despite his sincere efforts to connect. As you go, he notices the absence of those three words from you, and tears fill his eyes too, realizing the depth of your pain and the strain on your connection.

✧ ✧ ✧

The pulsating beats of the music echoed through the crowded room, a symphony of laughter and clinking glasses resonating in the air. Neon lights cast vibrant hues on the partygoers, transforming the space into a kaleidoscope of fleeting moments. Yet, in the midst of the lively chaos, your focus was on one person – Jeno.

The room felt suffocating as you navigated through the sea of bodies, your heart pounding in rhythm with the bass. This wasn't where you wanted to be; Jeno's infamous parties were the last place you'd willingly venture. Once, he had tamed his party spirit for you, a sacrifice to build a life together. Now, with the remnants of that love scattered like confetti, Jeno had reverted to his former self, perhaps even more recklessly.

He stood there, a red cup in hand, surrounded by the aura of popularity you once found intimidating. Memories of a time when he threw fewer parties for the sake of your connection flooded your mind. But now, any second threatened to pull him into the abyss of his "fuck boy" phase.

Summoning courage, you took a deep breath and approached him. His name left your lips, but he brushed you aside as though you were an apparition, the weight of his indifference making you feel transparent, like a forgotten ghost.

Attempting conversation only led to walls; he was rough, rude, a cruel reminder of a love now lost. The desperation to salvage what was left of a shared project pushed you to raise your voice, cutting through the noise of the party.

"JENO!"

His eyes met yours, a deadpan stare that could still weaken your resolve. The words you uttered about the pending project fell like heavy raindrops, but his response wasn't venomous – it was filled with an unexpected hurt.

"I'd rather fail," he said, and with that, he walked away, leaving you standing alone amidst the vibrant chaos, a solitary figure in a world that had once revolved aroundthe two of you.

As you gather your resolve to leave, the weight of impending all-nighters and deadlines bearing down on you, Donghyuck intercepts your escape with a mischievous smirk.

"Come with me," he insists, the insistence in his voice leaving no room for argument. "We're playing a game, and you have to be here. I won't let you go home yet."

Reluctantly, you follow Donghyuck into an empty room where a small group has gathered around a solitary bottle of alcohol placed in the center of the floor. Jeno sits on the opposite side, his gaze fixed on you. It takes a moment for you to realize why – you're wearing the dress he once gifted you, a stunning piece that captivates attention.

The atmosphere shifts as the game of spin the bottle begins. You shoot a glare at Donghyuck; this chaotic scene isn't your element. The room becomes a haze of alcohol, drugs, and unrestrained behavior. You feel like an outsider, an observer in a world that's foreign to you.

As the bottle takes its turns, the dares escalate, each one pushing the boundaries further. Yeji and Hyunjin had to dry hump, Chaewon and Ryujin shared an intense make out session and Karina faces a challenge that adds a layer of discomfort to the room.

Your mind begins to wander, almost fortunate to have escaped the bottle's whims, until it unexpectedly lands on Jeno. He maintains the same nonchalant expression, like a detached robot, throughout the game. Witnessing him in this state burdens your heart.

Then, your name is called, and the shock reverberates through you. Eyes widen, pulse quickens – you're suddenly the focal point of the game, and a daunting dare awaits.

“I repeat once more, Lee Jeno, would you rather kiss Y/N with the happy pill or do the same with Winter?” You gulp when you see that the bottle has landed on Jeno, Donghyuck’s words kept ringing in your head, you give him a deadpan expression and all he does is smile and blow you a kiss. He’s a menace. He planned this. You shake your head in annoyance as you see him rubbing his hand at the scene he’s created, the awkward silence, the tension, the stormy expression in Jeno’s eyes.

You gulp when you realise what’s truly going on. It’s a drug. You weren’t surprised, was it Jeno’s party if drugs weren't played with recklessly? You know Jeno loves them, he’s into that stuff, he’s crazy about it so why does he look so angry? You know him, you know his eyes should be growing with light and he’d be desperate to feel the release but he’s mad. He's abrupt and harsh. “Why are you involving drugs?”

There was a silence, Donghyuck just laughs

“I don’t want to do either.”

Jeno and Hyuck converse but it becomes a distant noise to you as you’re distracted. Your blood is boiling, you’re looking at Winter, her sweet smile and shadowed eyes giving you a racing heart. You know she doesn’t mean any harm by her actions, she isn’t a bad person but at the same time, her actions have had a negative affect on you.

Winter applies lip balm, puckering with certainty that Jeno will choose her over you. The anger you feel isn’t solely directed at her, but at the haunting memories of girls who made you feel weak and vulnerable, doubting the significance of your connection with Jeno. The realization hits – you stopped seeing Jeno to avoid this attention, to do what you thought was best.

No more. You’re taking a stand. You’re not focused on anything else, there’s so much booze and people, so much alcohol, so much music but your eyes are only on one person. the man you love so much. He’s arguing with Donghyuck so he doesn’t notice you move from your place, snatch the baggie from Donghyuck’s hand and give Winter a unapologetic glare, silently warning her not to move from her seat, it might’ve been childish but to your suprise she looks startled and sits back down.

You walk over to him and he immediately goes silent, eyes on you and instantly the light is restored. You’re shy and nervous but it doesn’t matter. he’s only one one that matters. making it up to him and showing him that you’re truly sorry and do want him matters the most.

He eyes the bag in your hand and looks stunned, eyes instantly going soft as he lowers you down onto his lap, hands moving all over. They grip the flesh on your thighs, biting his lip as he admires how sexy you look in the dress. His hands are gripping your waist securely, moving his face close to yours, showing the most concern and love in your eyes, that’s when you realise that the feelings never went, he’s never stopped adoring you.

“Baby.” he calls out your name softly, eyes looking over you in concern, you relish in his protective and caring touch that caresses your skin, you missed him so much

“Jeno.” you call out to him, holding onto his face so delicately, the two of you softly looking into each others eyes with giddy smiles, he nudges his nose against yours, calling you his pretty girl. Your spirits were too infectious to break. You truly ignored everyone else around you, especially Donghyuck, his background remarks kept ringing around, he was claiming that you were breaking every single rule in the game but you didn’t care

“Are you sure?” He questions with so much care as you bring the pill out of the bag, ready to put it on your tongue. he has strict eyes, you can see his protective side already. He wants your consent and he wants you to be 100% sure.

You know how much he loves stuff like this, you’ve always wished you was more outgoing for him. You don’t answer verbally.

You pull out pill from the bag, eyeing it like it was foreign, it was to you. You’ve seen Jeno do this so many times, you can do it. You handle it with care, making sure you don’t drop it as you place it on your tongue, eyes not leaving his as you do so, you see his breathing becoming heavy, a smirk that you love so much playing on his face. He’s in his heaven. He’s wanted this for so long. His two favourite things in the world. That combined with the fact he hasn’t touched you in so long, he’s already cumming in his pants.

You moan before you close your lips in on him, lips moving in a passionate yet slow manner, you haven’t done this in so long yet you instantly feel like home. You melt into his touch, fingers gripping onto him tightly as if he could slip away but you know he won’t ever again, it’s real, he’s yours.

He laughs against your lips when he realised you’ve become too indulged in the moment to forget that there was a pill resting on your tongue. He prods his own tongue against yours, the pill falling into his mouth effortlessly. Your tongues engage in a dance, conveying a depth of emotion that transcends words.

The warmth of your shared desire pulses through every lingering moment, igniting a fervent connection that speaks of longing, intensity, and the unspoken promises of passion.

The moment is heightened by a hundred, the kiss moves at a more rapid and intense rate, his hot breath moving against yours, you get lost in each other's embrace. Your kiss is making up for stolen time but you relish into him with a giddy smile when you realise that he’s yours and has always been. You won’t waste any time anymore,

You press against each together fervently, seeking solace and connection in the desperation of the moment. It's a collision of raw emotion, where the taste of longing lingers, and each kiss becomes a desperate plea for reassurance and a temporary escape from the overwhelming tide of uncertainty.

It’s frustrating that you had to do this with your clothes on, it’s clear that you both wanted to strip each other by the way your skirt had trailed so high up your thighs and how you’ve managed to unbutton half of his shirt. You’re gripping onto him for dear life as he starts thrusting against you, his hand pressed against your clothed clit, making rough motions as you grow more wet and frustrated as your lace thong sticks to you, you so desperately want him to strip you naked. His hardness prods against your pelvis, his tip meeting your folds every time he meets your hips.

You begin moaning his name against his lips, heavy pants and breaths against each other's mouth. In all honesty, you’ve both forgotten that there’s a crowd around you, your eyelids doubling explains why you’ve travelled to your own world with him. You’re so enchanted, desperate and horny for each other you genuinely forget you’re in the same room as people, so does he, his fingers are about to slide underneath your skirt and underwear to take it off in one rough motion, other hand reaching for a condom but you shake your head, telling him to cum in you because you’re still on the pill.

It’s so steamy. The 7 seconds has clearly exceeded a long time ago.

“Get a room! Can you guys take it somewhere else?” You’re finally brought back to reality, partially. You can only hear Donghyuck because he’s shouting close to your ear, tapping the both of you. You feel dizzy, you feel like you’re floating, you feel so good.

You ignore everyone, it’s just you and him. You continue to disregard everyone else as you finally hear all the background noise, the shouts and cheers, the whistling, the peering eyes. You don’t notice guys getting their phones out to film and take photos of you, you don’t notice Sunwoo knocking each phone from each shameless guys hands, deleting every photo and video and warning them with threats.

You’re out of your mind but you can recollect Jeno finally lifting the two of you up, he carries you to someplace more private, your legs around his waist as you continue to dry hump. You’re a mess, you keep moaning his name against his lips. “I know, I know, my love.” He whispers against your lips.

You feel a delicious thrill through your pussy, your heart beating erratically. The words ‘I love you’ are nearly slipping off your tongue.

“You’re my good girl, be patient and I’m gonna give you everything you want.” He promises, lust in his eyes. He magically manouvers through the crowds, dodging every single drunk, dancing person or couple all while making out with you passionately, his attention was 100% solely on you.

You let out a noise of excitement when you’re pressed against a wall roughly, Jeno follows shortly, his back pressing into yours. You travelled blind, you didn’t see a thing, you just maintained full trust in him. You can feel the change in atmosphere, it’s much quieter here, it’s just you and him.

He starts pressing kisses against the curve of your neck, languid and sensual, a heated whisper of desire lingered in the air. He caressed you with purpose, leaving his trail of heightened sensations behind with love marks and bites. You missed the feeling of him leaving hickeys so much. In that heated moment, your connection intensified, a symphony of shared longing and a promise of deeper, more intimate embraces to come.

He whispers against your skin, his touch although rough, lingered so softly on your skin. “I’ve missed you so much, baby.” He leans close to you, turning your tace to the side, his touch so caressing. “I’ve missed you so fucking much.” He says between kisses.

“Why did you ghost me like that? Hm?” He asks, fingertips gripping into your hips as he demands an explanation.

“I – I thought I was doing what was best.” You give a simple explanation, you was contemplating to fully explain what had happened, the conversation you had with Nagyung, the entire ordeal but now you’re standing here with the man you want to be with forever, so you realise that it doesn’t matter anymore. Maybe one day you’ll tell him everything but you don’t see yourself doing that anytime soon. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Jeno. What matters is that I’m here with you and I’ll never do that to you again.”

“I’m so sorry, I truly am. It wasn’t right for me to ghost you like that with no explanation, I’m so sorry if I made you feel like you did something wrong. The truth is you didn’t, you were so good to me. You made me feel a way that no one has ever before, I never imagined that someone would make me feel so cherished and appreciated, you came from nowhere and rocked my whole world.��

He smiles against your lips, it’s clear your apology is sincere and it touches his heart. “It’s okay, I forgive you and now I want to punish you.” His voice goes darker and you know it’s the sex in him talking, it turns you on so much.

“Then ruin me.”

“But I wanna make so much love to you.” He groans, an internal conflict playing in his heart. “You’ve gone so long without my touch, are you sure you want me to go hard on you?”

You manage to lock the door behind you, filled

with determination. That tells him enough. He’s confused when you get down from his hold, nearly stumbling once you’re on the ground as dizziness overcomes you but you force yourself to have a strong stance. You try to appear more confident than you are, your eyes heavy with the desire to make him feel good.

Your eyes don’t leave his when you get down on your knees in front of him, looking up at him with doe yet seductive eyes. He groans, getting himself ready with a huff, unbuckling his belt, cooing down at you when you struggled to do it, he cups your cheeks. “My pretty girl, you wanna make me feel good? You wanna make it up to me? You’re gonna take my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours?”

You nod, suddenly becoming shy at how direct he is. He tuts, shaking his head, fingers gripping the skin beneath your skin roughly, looking down at you and shaking his head. He wants you to beg for him. Your pussy grows wet at his change in attitude.

“How badly do you need my cock?”

“I need it so badly. I’ve been thinking about your cock every single day, I’ll do anything to feel and taste it.” You start begging and pleading, holding his hands softly and kissing the flesh as you know that you’re his soft spot.

But it makes no difference, he won’t give you what you need unless you beg for him the way he wants you to. His eyes grow dark and his voice goes deeper, looking down at you seductively, fingers pressing into your mouth as he gives you a taste for only second. “Say it then.” His finger prods between your top and bottom lip, eyes dark as he’s waiting for the word that he’s been so desperate to hear since rekindling with you:

“Please Daddy!!! Please fuck my throat, Daddy.” You scream at the top of your lungs.

“There’s my good girl.”

Your hands grip his clothed cock, impatiently waiting as he rids himself of his boxers. You bring your knees close together in a bid to feel something which doesn’t go unnoticed by him: “My greedy slut has no patience.”

He shakes his head.

Your anticipation builds as you grasp his thighs, eagerly opening your mouth and meeting his lustful gaze. His hand caresses your cheek before guiding his cock against your chin, his heavy length slapping against your skin. He enters your mouth, you close your eyes and moan into him instantly, savoring the sensation and losing yourself in the moment.

His deep groan resonates as you swallow, and he grips your face while withdrawing his cock slowly. Spit gathers at the edges of your lips as he thrusts back into your mouth. A whimper escapes as the head of his arousal reaches the back of your throat, causing your eyes to water.

"Fuck," he hisses, picking up the pace ever so slightly. Your hands ascend, clutching his belt loops, drawing him nearer until his hips meet your chin.

He lingers momentarily before withdrawing, granting you a brief respite before pulling him back in. He watches intently as each thrust causes your throat to bulge, his fingers pressing against your neck, relishing the sensation.

Your mind is adrift, captivated by him and the sensations he invokes. Your lips ache from the stretch, mirroring the intensity elsewhere. Unbeknownst to you, your thighs rub together, seeking relief from the building pressure within.

His hands descend, teasing with pinches and nipple flicks, eliciting involuntary jerks. His cock, unwavering, continues its rhythmic exploration of your mouth. Gripping your thighs, he forcefully spreads your legs, prompting a cough as he grunts at the tightness, his fingers tantalizingly close to your core. You hold onto his belt loops, immersed in the moment.

"So wet just for me, all for Daddy," he murmurs, his fingers exploring the depths between your thighs, causing your toes to curl. "I wish I could eat you out at the same time, baby," he groans. A whimper escapes as he inserts two fingers, your legs spreading wide in tandem with the rhythmic dance of his mouth and fingers, propelling you toward the precipice.

"So perfect for me. Down on your knees just for me, my cock in my princesses pretty little mouth." he declares, plunging his cock down your throat. Tears and saliva cascade into your hair as you whimper. He looks down at you with a mixture of adoration and sadism in his eyes. You can tell he’s still having a conflict, he wants to make love to you and make you feel like you’re in infinity but he also wants to ruin you.

Your chest heaves as he accelerates his fingers, his other hand anchoring you with pressure against your lower stomach. "Can you hear how wet you are for me?" he taunts, the audible squelch accompanying each swift movement. As the intensity heightens, a new dimension of pleasure unfolds, leaving you teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

Your eyes begin watering as his thrusts become more languid, his eyes widening in size as he moans your name, sounds of pleasure leaving his mouth as his grip tightens on the makeshift ponytail he’s bunched your hair into, roughly yanking it to bring you even closer. “My pretty baby.” He admires you as you continue to open wide for him, drool and spit staining your cheeks

“Swallow.” He manages to demand in his hazy state, his voice a complete contrast to his gentle tone a few seconds ago. His cum drips out, so much of it.

You oblige like the good girl that you are, making Jeno’s heart race as he caresses your embrace, cooing at how good you’ve been for him. The liquid burns down your throat as you slurp every last drop, it drops all over your face. Jeno bites his lip and moans at the sight. Your panting against his cock as you savour every last taste, his cum that leaves a mark as it drips on your flesh.

The next thing you know is that he’s on the floor, knelt down beside you as he presses kisses all over your face. He melts at how cute you look covered in his cum, your cheeks a subtle pink as your lips curve up in a giddy smile. “Am I forgiven?”

He sighs, pressing the softest of kisses all over your face. “You’ve already made it up for me, my love.” He smiles, the most precious look ever. You don’t have time to respond because he lifts you up and kisses you, slamming the back of your body against the cold tiles.

“I’m gonna fuck you against the wall.”

He acts swiftly, aching desire between you both palpable. Impatience skips over prolonged foreplay. His hands roughly envelop your boobs as he profoundly fucks into you, your walls sucking him in.

His hips maintain a rapid, fervent pace against yours, igniting a symphony of sensations. Your voice rises, a crescendo of his name escaping your lips, the echo lingering in the air, dancing with the possibility of reaching others' ears.

"Good girl," he breathes, a whisper of dominance laced with desire. "You want everyone to hear how much you love me?"

In the aftermath, a blissful numbness envelops your body—a harmonious blend of pleasure and surrender. The echoes of passion's orchestration linger, leaving you immersed in the aftermath.

He continues his rhythmic movements through his climax, your legs trembling around him, creating a delicate balance. A subtle exploration finds that sweet spot, adding a layer of intimacy to the shared experience.

Whispering softly, he notes, "You're still so tight for me," expressing a connection that transcends the physical. The declaration of a need to be close, to share in the culmination of shared desire, adds a tender note to the symphony of emotions.

""I love you," you whisper with genuine warmth, the words echoing the depth of your feelings. "I've never stopped loving you, and I never will. It's you—always has been and always will be. I want to grow old with you, experience everything with you. I love you."

"You're incredibly beautiful. You're so good to me. You're my entire world," Jeno expresses, his voice a tender melody that wraps around your heart.

"Y/N," he speaks softly after a moment of quiet, his voice carrying a vulnerable tone that unveils layers of emotion. His eyes search yours, seeking reassurance and a promise of permanence.

"You won't leave me again?" he questions, the weight of his vulnerability evident in every word.

"Never," you reassure, your fingers tenderly running through his hair. "I will love you until I stop breathing."

A gentle smile graces his lips, and he closes his eyes, immersing himself in the rhythmic beat of your heart against his chest. His fingers weave through your hair, creating a comforting melody, and his breath becomes a soothing lullaby that caresses the intimate space between you two.

In a moment that lingers with sincerity and depth, he opens his eyes, gazing into your soul. "I love your more," he confesses, the words carrying the weight of every emotion he's ever felt. His declaration is not just a statement; it's a promise, a pledge to navigate the journey of love with you, embracing the beauty of every shared heartbeat and whispered melody.

✧ ✧ ✧

Beneath the celestial canvas of a perfect graduation day, the atmosphere buzzes with an electric mix of excitement and nerves. As you stand on the stage, a serene breeze gently rustles the diplomas in your hands, symbolising the journey of growth and resilience. Above, clouds drift in the blue sky like transient dreams.

You’re surrounded by the sea of your peers, each face reflects the shared triumphs and challenges of the academic voyage. The air is thick with your nerves but your newfound ability to navigate anxiety renders the experience more bearable. You’re doing better, emotionally and physically.

So many eyes are looking up your way but your attention is drawn, unwaveringly, to one face — your handsome boyfriend. Dressed in a graduation suit that complements the solemnity of the occasion, his recently dyed blonde hair adds a touch of vibrancy to the scene. He looks hot.

His gaze meets yours, and as if orchestrated by destiny, the world around you blurs, leaving only the two of you in sharp focus. The warmth of his mesmerising smile works like a balm, dissolving the remnants of nervousness that linger. In this shared moment, he blows a gentle kiss, a silent reassurance that transcends words.

He motions to his phone and you smile his way, breaking eye contact to take your own phone from your front pocket, his text messages leaving a mark on your heart.

As Professor Suh announces the imminent commencement of the valedictorian speech, you swiftly tuck your phone away. You draw in a deep breath. A fleeting but meaningful smile passes between you and Jeno, His eyes, a comforting anchor, capture your attention one last time.

You observe him lean back, sigh, and brace himself, a knowing expression gracing his face, he knows that you haven’t listened to him. A subtle smirk plays on your lips as you witness his friends, quick to tease him. With the echo of your smile lingering in the air, you step forward, propelled by a newfound confidence, falling into the depth of Jeno's eyes one last time before embracing the responsibility of delivering the valedictorian speech.

“Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed faculty, honored guests, and my extraordinary fellow graduates,

As we stand on the cusp of a momentous occasion, I want to extend my heartfelt congratulations to each and every one of you. Graduating and completing your honors is no small feat, and you should all be immensely proud of your hard work and dedication.

As I reflect on the journey that brought us to this significant moment, I want to share a story that began on my very first day at this university—a story that unfolded into a groundbreaking initiative. A project, focusing on Virtual Reality Therapy, emerged as a transformative endeavor, leveraging VR technology to construct therapeutic environments for those navigating stress, anxiety, or specific psychological conditions. The aim was audacious yet profound: to pioneer an approach that delves into the intricate realms of emotional, social, and cultural interactions within these virtual therapeutic spaces.

I must admit, the inception of this project was nerve-wracking. The unexpected assignment, the weight of its aspirations—I never envisioned being chosen for such an innovative venture. Yet, in the midst of uncertainty, I found myself humbled and honored to be part of this ambitious pursuit.

This project was not a solo endeavor; it was a collaborative journey, and I had the privilege of working alongside someone exceptional. Jeno, my partner in this endeavor, brought his engineering expertise to the table, playing a vital role in translating our vision into reality. Together, we navigated the challenges and triumphs of this innovative initiative.

As the project unfolded, it garnered recognition beyond our university's borders. It's not my intention to bore you with the details, for the university has rightfully celebrated its achievements. This initiative has earned global accolades, winning numerous awards and gaining recognition worldwide—an accomplishment that resonates not just within these academic halls but across the international stage.

Yet, if I may be candid, my personal connection with the project has evolved. While its success is undeniable, and its impact has reached far and wide, my focus has shifted beyond the accolades. It's a testament to the journey we've shared and the growth we've experienced together. Jeno and I, alongside all of you, have played our part in this remarkable chapter of our academic lives.

Now, as I shift the focus of our journey to a more personal realm, let me unveil why this project has become the most profound and romantic chapter of my academic venture. It’s a tale of love, of unexpected connections, and how, amidst the pixels and algorithms, I discovered something far more intricate—the story of how I met my boyfriend, Jeno.

Picture this: as we navigated the intricacies of the project, Jeno, my partner in this venture, revealed a side of himself that extended beyond the confines of his engineering expertise. He was, in essence, the orchestrator of a symphony of intelligence and charm, yet too nervous to stand before you today. His modesty led him to suggest that I take full credit for our shared efforts.

I couldn’t, in all honesty, adhere to his suggestion. You see, I find an unparalleled joy in showcasing him, in proudly proclaiming that he is not only the love of my life but also a brilliant mind beneath the carefully curated image he upholds. Jeno, despite his attempts to downplay it, exudes intelligence effortlessly, and it’s this subtle brilliance that makes him irresistibly attractive.

Sure, we’ve had our fair share of arguments, a clash of wills rooted in the image he feels compelled to uphold. But, oh, how we love. Love transcends the disagreements, and the project, beyond its academic significance, emerged as the catalyst that brought us together. It changed my life, and if you were to look into my eyes, you’d see the depth of my feelings—a love that transforms the way we gaze at each other.

Our eyes tell a story of admiration and attraction, a silent language that binds us with an invisible thread even when words remain unspoken. My eyes, always twinkling and smiling in the company of the love of my life, bear witness to undying feelings—a connection that surpasses the boundaries of time and space.

I share this not merely as a personal anecdote but as a testament to what truly matters. Love, in all its complexities and simplicity, matters more than the rigors of university assignments. University, at its core, is about forging connections and savoring the joy in every moment. It isn’t the end of the world, and even if we stumble, even if we fail, we will endure and live on.

As I reflect on our journey, I can honestly say I have no regrets. This year, I faced a tough challenge—severe anxiety. It affected everything—my studies, friendships, and especially my relationship with Jeno. But I want you to know, I overcame it. My message to all of you is that no matter what life throws your way, you have the strength to overcome it. I believe in you.

Life is unpredictable, but that's what makes it beautiful. Live your life fully, surround yourself with good friends and family. If things get tough, our pods, created by Jeno and me, is there for you.

And speaking of Jeno, the love of my life, this speech is for him. He's been my strength, and I dedicate these words to him. Thank you, and may your journeys ahead be filled with triumphs and love.

So, as we stand on the brink of a new chapter, let’s celebrate the love that intertwines our stories. For in this shared journey, we find the essence of what makes university life extraordinary—moments of connection, joy, and, above all, love.

Thank you, and cheers to the Class of 2023. May your journeys ahead be filled with triumphs and love.”

As the cheers, claps, and laughter of the audience envelop the room, your joy is palpable. Hats soar into the air, mirroring the elation etched across your face. Happiness radiates from you, a beacon in the sea of celebration. Amidst the sea of faces, you find yourself scanning for one person, and a momentary pang of disappointment strikes when his seat appears empty.

However, a sudden embrace from behind interrupts your search, and there's only one pair of arms that could make you feel this secure. Your boyfriend envelops you in a back hug, his whispered words in your ear a sweet symphony of pride and love. He praises your performance, telling you just how incredibly well you did. “I’m so proud of you, I love you.”

His arms, strong and muscular, create a haven around you. You melt into the embrace, feeling the warmth and security he provides. Leaning back into him, his words take a playful turn. His hot breath against your ear, he smirks and teases, “You think you're the only one who can embarrass people?”

Suddenly, his lips meet yours in a public display of affection on the elevated stage. The kiss is not just a peck; it's heated, passionate, and unapologetic. The world fades away as he doesn't seem to have any intention of stopping.

In the heat of the moment, the kiss is all-consuming, a full-on collision of passion. Your tongues engage in a fervent dance, an intimate tangle that heightens the intensity. Jeno's bites on your lips add a playful edge to the heated exchange, each nibble sending sparks through the connection.

As he breathes heavily against you, the air between you crackles with desire. The sensation of his arousal intensifies, palpable in the way he presses against you. His grip on your hair is tight, an assertion of desire that elicits a wince, a sweet blend of pleasure and a hint of pain.

Amid the fervor, your arm circles around his neck, drawing him closer. A smile that plays on your lips before you break away to catch your breath. “I’m not embarrassed. Why would I be? I love you, and I don't care who sees and knows."

His grin widens as he witnesses your transformation—a bolder, more unapologetic version of yourself. In this moment, you radiate confidence, embracing the essence of who you are without concern for others' opinions. His love for you deepens as he watches you stand tall, proud of the person you've become. In his eyes, your authenticity and resilience are truly something to be cherished.

The audience, initially cheering for your performance, now witnesses a different kind of spectacle—one fueled by love, playfulness, and an unapologetic embrace of affection. It's a scene etched in the memories of those present, a testament to the unabashed love between you and your boyfriend.

As you both watch each other with affectionate smiles, Jeno can't help but speak up, his tone filled with playful disbelief. "Really? You're not embarrassed? What happened to that line you were gonna—" He pauses, groaning and widening his eyes as you tap on the microphone, shamelessly grabbing the audience's attention once again.

“Y/N. No. I was just joking. Oh God.”

A moment of silence descends like a dropped pin could be heard. "I have something to add," you say, holding Jeno's hand and locking eyes with him. "I don't believe in God, but God made you for me. I love you, Lee Jeno."

Jeno groans as people whistle but as he looks in your eyes, he has to admit that he’s quite fond of this moment. He shakes his head, coming up behind you once more. "I love you more," he counters with a teasing smile.

"Really, God made me for you? That's a good one," he remarks, his tone light but with a subtle darkness in his eyes.

You respond with a sweet smile, "Never in my life did I think I'd experience a love story like this."

Your gaze is light and affectionate, but Jeno's eyes darken as he playfully accuses, "My blasphemous girl."

The atmosphere is meant to be romantic, he’s kissing you so softly and cooing into your ear as you melt into his back, his strong arms caging you in. The crowd erupts in cheers, and you force a smile, concealing the internal struggle between desire and the need to maintain composure.

Your sharp warning cuts through the air, adding a tense edge. "It's supposed to be a romantic moment; I will cut your fucking dick off," you declare, your tone carrying a mix of threat and irritation.

"Don't talk to me like that when you're the one rubbing against me like a bitch in heat." He grits through his teeth, somehow managing to conceal himself when he lands a slap on your ass, warning you to behave.

"This is a cute moment. My parents are here, and so are yours. Your mom is crying," he whispers in your ear, prompting a wave and a few tears as you look her way but she’s not even paying attention to you, you roll your eyes as Jeno blows her a kiss.

However, he quickly shifts the tone, calling out your arousal. "And you're horny?" he remarks, a mix of amusement and admonishment. "You better stop, or the entire audience will hear you scream my name," he warns, heightening the suspense.

"And you're not wearing underwear? You needy slut.” Jeno teases with a playful smirk evident in his voice.

Your response, delivered with a pout, adds a touch of endearing innocence to the playful exchange. “You literally took it off in the car.” You protest, the pout reflecting a mix of innocence and mild reproach.

Jeno's counter, delivered with a chuckle. "Yeah, because you made me park halfway here because you wanted to ride my cock.”

“What was I supposed to do? You was so cute in the car, telling me that I’m your other half, that you see yourself marrying me and growing old with me, did you or did you not deserve to get your cock sucked in that moment?”

He gives you a knowing smirk. “I did.”

- -

if you enjoy please leave an ask <3 talk to me. i've uploaded this 3 times cus ive been shadowbanned

comment to be added to the tag list for the sequel

wanna check out more mfal content? check out the mfal ml here includes text posts, never seen before scenes, smut scenes, facts and behind the scenes content <3

4K notes · View notes

eevees-hobbies · 1 year ago

Text

My Boyfriend Works at a Butler Cafe - NSFW

Author’s Note: This is in response to the maid cafe requests I’ve gotten. While I don’t think I can add to the body of work that other content creators have already contributed to the fandom, I am dropping this at your feet. It may or may not be inspired by my trip to the Butler Cafe at Anime Expo, hehe.

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Multiple Characters (Mostly separate). Contains Fluff and Smut (Smut indicated by “after hours” text). P in V. Use of pet names like pretty girl, Daddy, possessiveness in Sakura’s, sex in public, cunnilingus, sharing, mention of a handjob, reserve cowgirl. Tis smut!

Synopsis: Picture a scenario in which Umemiya is concerned about the welfare and sustainability of some of the shops in Makochi, primarily because many of the shops are owned and kept up by some of the more elderly inhabitants. Some stores are dilapidated and at risk of shuttering their doors, which Umemiya sees as a significant loss to the community. After brainstorming potential ways to earn some donations, he has a brilliant idea! It’s a concept that has almost every Bofurin alumni grinding their teeth and shaking their heads in protest. Welcome to the Butler Cafe!

Word Count: 3.2K

Cottage dividers by Saradika. Story and character banners by me.

“I’m so happy to see you, baby!”

If he weren’t volunteering his time to work in the cafe, he would be terminated immediately. As soon as he sees you walk through the door, he shouts your name from across the dining room and beelines straight to you, arms open and with a broad smile on his face.

The customers he was just serving? Ignored.

He’ll make sure to sit you in his section and pull up a chair to chat with you, which is a significant annoyance to management as Umemiya is a big draw to the cafe. His admirers line up at least an hour before the restaurant opens to see the cutie with the toned biceps serving them strawberry crepes.

Regardless, I hope you’re comfortable with your lover staring into the depths of your eyes—and soul—as you recount your day.

He’s so incomprehensibly smitten with you that the only thing that he’ll allow to interrupt your verbal reverie is him spoon-feeding you a piece of cake.

“I’m so glad you came to visit me today! Wait, what do you mean you’re genuinely here to eat lunch?”

Grade: C+

After Hours

“Let me have some of you before my shift, sweetheart. I need you.”

“D-don’t worry about those…let them fall.” Paperwork, pens, and even a stapler aren’t safe from the laws of gravity as Umemiya picks you up and pushes you onto the desk in the back office. He only has so much time before opening the Butler Cafe doors, and he needs to fill your womb to ensure himself a good shift.

Could you imagine a sex-famished Umemiya? It’s a terrifying thought!

You kiss each other hungrily, tongues meeting outside your mouths before you can press your lips together. Your hands are already fussing with his uniform, particularly where his toned chest strains the buttons of his ironed coat.

“If I’m not inside you right now, baby girl-” His sentence is cut off as his mouth latches to the sensitive skin on your throat, suckling and nipping until the spot begins to sting. But if it hurts, you aren’t showing it as your eyes roll back into your skull.

He’s pressing his body into yours as though he’s attempting to collapse into you. His hands desperately tug at the fabric that covers up his favorite parts of you–your breasts, your stomach, and most importantly, the sweet treat you have between slick-stained thighs.

“Ume, this has to be a quickie!”

You can feel him grumble against your skin, lips trained into a pout as he grapples with your words, but he knows you’re right. He shifts the seat of your panties to the side and sinks into you, inch by agonizing thick inch.

And you thought you were ready. You thought the way your cunt was drooling for him just by seeing him in his uniform would mean you were fully prepared to take his girth, but the sheer thickness still has you gasping and gripping his shoulders.

“Shhh, you can take it, pretty girl. You always take me so well. I got ya’”

As he’s pushing into you, his words slur, drunk off your pussy, head swimming with love, lust, and adoration for his sweet girl. There’s no time for preparation; his shift starts soon, and weren’t you just rushing him, anyway?

But for all the stretching you must endure from taking him, Umemiya is still nothing but gentle.

“God, you’re perfect.” His fingers stroke your cheek, and you melt into the familiarity of his soothing touch. “Keep your eyes open for me ok, love? You close them, and we start over.”

Once you collect yourself, walls finally fitting snugly around him like a glove, you bat your eyelashes innocently, brushing your lips against his thumb before sliding it into your mouth. You don’t break eye contact with him as you flirt your tongue against the underside of his thumb, pretending as though you’re sucking on something much bigger and thicker—that of which is already inside of you.

For a brief instant, you see something flash in Umemiya’s eyes, something that you feel sink into your spine and crawl its way up each individual vertebrae with sharpened claws, something that would threaten your health and ability to walk if you were home instead of at the butler cafe. But he begrudgingly sets his desire to defile you to the side and removes his thumb from your mouth, hand moving down and using that same digit to rub at your clit.

“I love it when you help Daddy out like this. Suuuuuuch a good girl.”

The way the desk bangs against the wall and drags across the linoleum floor as he drives his thick cock into your sopping-wet mess makes you consider that you two might be found out before your quickie can conclude.

Grade: A+

“Stop staring at me like that, and hurry up and order!”

“Ugh!”

Death has never been more welcome as soon as Sakura dons the butler uniform. Even worse is when he peers into the dining room and sees you.

Why would you do this to him? Why would you show up here? Don’t you have any pity for him, or is this all some sick, twisted fantasy for you?

He’s spiraling!

Staff must physically grab him and force him onto the cafe floor.

He’ll approach you, grumbling, and every bit of him the reddest he’s ever been—and is that steam pouring from his ears?

As he mumbles out the delicacy of the day, you have to lean in just to hear what he’s saying.

“S-stop pretending you can’t hear me!”

But best believe that when he sees another butler giving you too much attention for his liking, he’s stepping in and taking care of all his girl's orders.

“Hey, she’s mine.”

“Y-you mean the table, right?”

“She’s mine.”

Oof, he said what he said!

And if Umemiya is popular with the younger crowd, Sakura, to his disdain, is popular with the older ladies. They don’t think he’s particularly cute or lovely to look at; they just enjoy a visit from this loud-mouthed kid telling them to hurry up and order.

They think he’s a hoot and taking method-acting to the extreme.

Aren’t the tsundere types so cute?

He’s honestly a really bad butler. His inability to be friendly to the customers—except you—and attempts to always switch his shift with someone else does not go unnoticed by management.

Grade: F -

After Hours

“I kinda like fucking you at work.”

As you gazed down at your plate, an unfinished parfait staring back at you, a simple sentence was all you needed to gulp the rest of the dessert down and follow your butler outside.

“Gonna be good for me and finish that so I can finish you, yeah?”

Um, fuck yeah!

“S-sakura, don’t you have to clock back in?” You mumble into his ear; you know you sound like an absolute mess, your breathing rapid and uneven, with small moans erupting from your throat.

“Fuck this job.” He has your hands pinned above your head; your legs are wrapped around his waist as he fucks you against the alley wall behind the cafe. “I’m exactly where I should be.”

His thrusts forward are hard and urgent, but the retraction of his dick is slow, drawing out the feeling of your satin walls grazing every inch of him. Your slick is staining his bicolored pubic hair as he grinds into you. His fingers dig into your wrists, seemingly in rhythm with each snap of his hips.

“G-god, Sakura! Maybe I should make you dress up like a butler more often?”

“P-pervert, you’d like that, huh? You want me to dress up as your fantasy and fuck you in costume?”

He nestles his face into your neck. You sound so good for him, and how could he resist the urge to take you outside and fuck you right here and now with how pretty you look?

You’re intoxicating, you’re perfect, you’re about to make him fucking cum, fuck! He considers pulling out, letting you finish him off with your hand or that cute mouth of yours, but you grip your legs around him in a vice grip.

“H-haru, stay inside, please?”

Oh, god, how could he say no to that? To you? He smashes his lips against yours, moaning loudly in your mouth as his cock twitches, spurts then fountains of his love and devotion for you filling you up to the brim.

His shift at the butler cafe is the last thing on his mind as he wraps his arms around your waist, peppering kisses against your lips and cheeks.

Grade: A+++++++++++++++++++++++

“Hey, you came just to see me, sweet girl? Aw, I’m so lucky.”

Although he technically didn’t have to attend this fundraiser, given his relationship with Bofurin and Makochi, he thought it was a good idea to show up ready to work.

Togame quickly becomes a shift manager. He’s reliable, a natural leader, and every client likes talking to him and even though he doesn’t walk with a sense of urgency, they don’t mind!

When Togame sees you enter the cafe, he’ll shoot you a lazy grin—the kind that makes your heart skip a beat and forces you to long for him even when he’s right there in front of you.

During his lunch breaks, he’ll take you out on the private patio he reserved just for you two and have the butler on duty bring out all the cafe items he knows you’ll like.

As you speak and enjoy your time together, he’ll grab your hand in his, rough fingers drawing smooth circles around your knuckles, deep-green eyes trained on yours, and occasionally flickering down to look at your lips.

Of course, you want to kiss him, but he’s at work!

Knowing precisely how you are, Togame makes the first move, leaning over and capturing your lips in a kiss that is soft, unabashedly intimate, and that of which touches the furthest and most difficult-to-reach edges of your very soul. He’s breathing life into you, and before you know it, he’s pulling away, smirking, daring you to be the aggressor, and daring you to follow him. And you are, and you do.

Grade: A

After Hours

“Gonna make you cum before my shift, beautiful. How does that sound? Look at me when I ask you a question.”

Your trembling hand shoots out to grasp the ledge of a nearby shelf in the cafe’s backroom. Togame has your legs draped over his muscular and broad shoulders with your back against the wall in the back office.

Togame loves using your thighs as earmuffs. The harder you squeeze, the more he can tell how good of a job he’s doing. When you squeeze and tremble because he’s sucking on your labia, taking each one into his mouth, sucking, biting, he knows that he’s doing exactly what he needs to get you to absolute euphoria.

“Jo,” you hiss through parted, glossed lips, “They’ll be able to hear us!”

“No, they’ll be able to hear you.”

And he’s right. He snuck you into the back prior to his shift so that he could devour you as though you didn’t pack him a bento box.

But he’s doing such a good job, licking at your clit until you feel a dull throbbing sensation, making out with your pretty pussy until thick cream coats his lips, and leaving a reflective sheen on his cheeks.

Unfortunately, the diners aren’t too far away, and you don’t want them to hear every sound Togame is pulling out of you.

And as though he’s intentionally trying to make you louder, he flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue, no longer teasing the nub but making deliberate infinity shapes that make her twitch.

“I’ll stop when you cum in my mouth, baby.”

He wants you to cum? Might as well take him up on the offer.

You grab loose fistfuls of his hair and start grinding on his face, allowing his nose to rub against your clit as he offers your pretty hole free use of his tongue.

“That’s my girl. You’re such a good listener.”

“Jo, don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Grade: A+

“I’m at your beck and call. Whatever you need is yours.”

To no surprise to anyone, Suo is poised and proper enough to make the butler gig look easy. He knows how to carry the trays without spilling a single crumb of food, he knows where to put the silverware when placing them on the table, and he’s certainly never stressed out during a midday rush.

However, his faults lie with you.

When Suo sees you enter the cafe, he becomes apathetic to the other patrons. He still serves them, yes, but his thoughts are obviously elsewhere. His eyes hardly leave you, watching as you bring a fork up to your mouth and it pushes past your plump lips.

Your tongue darting out to lick the whipped cream from the corner of your mouth has his eyes widening ever so slightly, and the tea kettle he’s pouring tea from shaking just a bit.

And when he’s able to serve you? He’s never been happier. Sure, you may not have asked for that extra piece of pie, but you’re absolutely going to get it. Can’t possibly drink any more tea? Nonsense. He’s topping you off again.

Anything for you.

Always.

And forever.

Grade: B

After Hours

"Pretty girl needs to cum at least one more time for us. I need you to cum in my friend's mouth before I touch you."

Your pleasure is Suo’s pleasure, so be a good girl and spread your legs for his friends, mkay? Suo’s tongue slides into your mouth as his fingers brush against the strands of your hair that have managed to fall into your face.

He can’t help but admire you, your beauty, and your fucked out expression as your mouth opens and closes, waves and waves of pleasure rocking you to your core.

His beautiful girl.

The cafe's shades are drawn closed, and the interior of the restaurant is only illuminated by dim amber lamp lights placed sporadically throughout the medium-sized room.

Suo cups your chin, his mouth only leaving yours as he tilts your face forward, “Tell Sakura how much you like when he sucks on your clit.”

Sakura grunts from between your thighs. He’s on all fours, face so flush against your cunt that there’s surely no room for him to breathe. But if that’s the case, he isn’t indicating that oxygen is a necessity as he’s dragging his tongue, flattened and broad, against your swollen clit in long licks.

“That feels really good, Sakura. You’re doing such a great job.” You pause, but Suo’s quick, heated glance in your direction wills you to continue. “You’re doing a great job, and I like when you suck on my clit”

“Good girl. It’s important to thank your butlers. Now be sure to thank Umemiya, too.”

You turn your head to the side, gazing up at Umemiya, who is pulling up his undershirt in clenched fists, exposing his toned stomach and chest, and his pants hanging loosely around his thighs. His pectorals have been a rosy pink all night, the persistent blush only spreading as he lays witness to you and what you’re capable of.

Your hand is wrapped around his cock, fingertips unable to touch each other from the sheer circumference of him, but dammit you’re trying. “Thank you, Umemiya, for letting me jerk you off.”

Suo lets out a quiet hiss, pleased with your obedience. He grips you by the cheeks and leans down, his lips so close to yours, his eye peering into your soul.

“Who do you think should go first? Which butler would you like to request, love?”

You’d smirk if his hand wasn’t forcing your lips into a pout, but your eyebrow twitches, and you get that familiar glint in your eye that Suo loves so much.

“I don’t think anyone has to take turns. Everyone pick a hole.”

Grade: A+

“P-please tell me how I can help you?”

When you see Nirei in his butler outfit, you swoon. How could someone so innocent and cute look like that? And while he blushes and stutters when taking your order, he’s probably the most impressive butler in the cafe.

He knows the menu like the back of his hand, is always on time, and is willing to stay late if need be.

Unlike the other participants on this list, your presence isn’t enough to shake Nirei, and admittedly, that might hurt a bit, right? In actuality, Nirei does so well because of you.

He knows you’re watching, so he’s careful with every movement and every word he says. He so desperately wants to impress you. So you might not always see it, but he’s watching you out of the corner of his eye, hoping you saw him interact with a client with perfect protocol.

As you have lunch with your friends and your eyes meet, he’ll shoot you a little wave as he turns his attention back to a customer. Your friends will giggle because how did YOU trap someone so cute, sweet, and innocent?

And you’ll take offense to that because 1) you aren’t a predator who hunts cute little animals–-Bambi is most certainly safe when you’re around and 2) Nirei is anything but innocent.

Grade: A+

After Hours:

"O-oh god! You’re amazing, so beautiful, please don’t stop! I-I’m gonna..!"

With shaky hands, Nirei hangs onto the plush of your ass–and on for dear life–as you ride him in reverse cowgirl position on the floor of the Butler Cafe.

“O-oh, my god…” He musters the strength to bring his head up to look at you expertly bouncing on his dick, swallowing him whole like you were made for this.

He doesn’t think he’s going to make it.

“Y/N! P-please slow down!”

You let out a breathless giggle, your nails digging into his thighs for leverage as you sit up straight and roll your hips. “You did so well serving me today, Nirei! I’m just rewarding my butler.”

God and he’d serve you for a lifetime if it meant experiencing this.

“D-do you know what I’m doing right now, baby?”

He lets out a grunt, the only sound he can manage, as the muscles in his calves tighten to the point of almost cramping.

Fuck, why are you so good at this?

You swivel your hips to the left, right, up and down, dragging the head of his cock against your g-spot. “I’m spelling your name.”

S-spelling his-

Oh, fuck.

Nirei bites his lip, eyes rolling into the back of his head as something so inevitable, so ridiculously powerful, hits him like a freight train. A cross between a whimper-whine escapes from parted lips, and it catches you off guard because, if anything, his moan is a clear indication of how much he desires you and how much he’s always wanted you.

You consider stopping, the rolling of your hips slowing, but the feeling of immense pressure makes you moan. The licking of your lips replaces the cocky grin on your face as you throw your head back.

Because, god, there’s just so much of it!

You look between your legs as his cum drips from your cunt and onto the cafe floor. His balls still clenching and unclenching as he continues to pour into you.

“Nirei, there’s so much!”

“Mmmm, h-happy to give you some more?”

Grade: A+

Special thanks to @suosgirl and @hayatoseyepatch for your ideas/contributions.

#wind breaker #windbreaker smut #windbreaker #wind breaker fluff #windbreaker x reader #hayato suo x reader #sakura x reader #suo hayato x reader #hayato suo #suo x reader #haruka sakura #hajime umemiya smut #umemiya hajime #jo togame x reader #jo togame #jo togame smut #nirei akihiko x reader #nirei akihiko

1K notes · View notes

luvchaew · 2 months ago

Text

moonlit lakes, fireflies, etc | yjw

sitting across from a young man on a train, you were sure you hadn't seen him before. not in this life at least. so why did his gaze make you so comfortable? why did his touch feel so familiar, so right?

“we'll meet again, young lady Jeong.” 𓈒𓈒 joseon dynasty prince 양정원 𖹭 joseon dynasty lady!reader, prohibited love, s2pl? wc𓈒 7.9k — maybe proofread ≛ ﹙ft. twice nayeon, idle miyeon, boa, mentions of enhypen jake﹚

here you'll find ౨ৎ fluff fluff fluff, past life, kinda time travel, paradoxes, angst (i tried guys go easy on me), they kiss once, jungwon is kinda obsessed, banter (except it's cute), mentions of kidnapping, killing, and whatnots, jungwon gets ‘spanked’ by his own family, male chauvinism bcs of the time it's based on (i do not support it of any kinds!), potential forced marriage, runaway attempts, ‘open’ ending.

[ ♬ 🏮 ] ——— this idea is something that i thought abt long ago but haven't had the opportunity to turn into words properly before. it is slightly inspired on ‘my demon’ (the past life stuff ofc) and i recommend listening to this song which also inspired me a lot! i really enjoy how this turned out so i hope you like it as much. this is my first kind of ‘long’ fic ever and if i'm lucky you're gonna enjoy it, hehe. xoxo 𖹭

𝑚. 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍

Busan Train Station, 2025

immediately when you stepped on the wagon, a penetrating gaze found you.

somehow, it affected you more than the chilling air of trains that you claimed to hate more than anything.

it had been a terrible day. so bad that you were going to your personal escape — the Joseon Dynasty Tombs of a young Yang family Heir or anything you used to go with your godmother, all the time as a kid — at 11pm, to run away from the problems real life brought you.

you expected to find the train empty given the hour, like it had been many times before, but today you had company. normally you would have sat really far from the young, good-looking man that eyed you, but you didn't.

holding your heavy luggages, you sat across from him. your eyes didn't leave his face for a second, scanning his features, admiring his cat shaped eyes, almost feeling how soft his hair seemed to be.

you hadn't seen him before. never.

yet, he looked familiar. he looked safe. he looked like home.

during the two and a half hours ride, both of you didn't speak.

but there was no need to.

because your eyes did all the work, having a secret conversation you seemed to be awkwardly aware of.

you could imagine what his interest might've been, what kind of song he might’ve listened to, how his voice might have sounded, what his name could've been.

Surroundings of Deoksugung Palace, 1752 —— Joseon Dynasty

young master Yang. the start of all your troubles and also the end of your peace. it was a offense to our late King Gwanghaegun how handsome he was, however, you had already created a common sense that charming young masters used to be the pettiest.

“young lady Jeong!” he shouted your name, his tall figure waving in your direction smiling widely. if you weren't surrounded by a dense forest, you would've ran away. literally. “i figured you'd come here, it really is a pretty sunny day, isn't it?”

you were supposed to study today. your father told you that royal ladies had in their duties to understand the world and be aware of what threatened your daily lives — rival families and japanese invasions, for example. therefore, you walked towards the lake with a few texts from your favorite scribes tucked under your arms and your long hair braided simply, a ddanggi keeping it steady.

“i’m here to read today, okay? do not bother me, thank you in advance” you muttered, sitting down on the rocks by the lake with your back turned to him, trying to focus on the water current and how the sun reflected its sunlights on it beautifully, some fishes jumping on the water from time to time.

jungwon stared at you, but continued speaking, his voice coming to your ears like music, “my maid has been looking for me for about an hour, did you know that? thus, it's very thrilling.”

“you do know that my uncle wants to kidnap your father, don't you? haven't you got nothing better to do besides walk all the way here to bother me?”

“no?” he cleared his throat, blinking at you and settling himself closer, the semi-transparent hat that he always wore accentuating the height difference between you. “my mother yelled at me last time saying that if i came here again she'd lock me up, but i like to play with fire, you know?”

“because you'll be the next Joseon King and nobody can disagree with you, isn't that it?” you guessed, turning a page on your parchment, pretending to be interested in it when you were most certainly not. all of your five senses were focused on jungwon: on how close he was, on his warm and minty breath close to your ear, his legs nearly touching yours, his dimples looking so soft you wanted to touch it.

the worst part of meeting him wasn't even the 3-hour-lecture you were forced to hear after in the high-pitched voice that your mother had when possessed, but the way you lost all of your self control near him. the environment also didn't help. birds chirping, acacia leaves falling occasionally from the trees, sun rays reflecting on his skin as they were put there especially for jungwon.

“exactly! see, that's why you're nice to talk to, you comprehend— wait, did you hear that?” he shifted in his place, now suddenly looking behind you, eyes widening.

yes, you had heard it. noises, voices, screams that were closer each time. your heart beat faster, loud thuds in your ear.

“young master Yang, are you here? young master Yang!”

you turned to face him quickly, your head suddenly dizzy. standing up, you grabbed his long, muscular hands and rushed towards the other direction, entering the sea of trees you had in front of you. his fingers were sweaty against yours, and you were able to hear his uneven breathing behind you. from between the light tree trunks, a group of purple-dressed maid servants arrived on the place you'd just been, some of them panted from the jogging, while some were so mad they nearly let smoke out of their heads. they served jungwon’s family. they were after him, not you.

“you have to get out of here. go that way, i’ll distract them” you squeezed his hands, pointing discreetly to the direction he should follow. he looked at you, his pupils small from fear, and nodded silently. the panic was mutual, and even if you didn't like to agree with him, both of you were in danger now, finding out what could happen if you didn't react isn't something you're psyched about.

the occasions where jungwon's relaxed, easy going demeanor changed to a serious, clumsy one, were rare, and they left you wondering how that man would one day be the one to sit at the royal golden throne.

you watched him as he disappeared in the woods, his broad shoulders soon nowhere to be seen. however, the women didn't seem to intend to leave, and after some analysis, you noticed they had your book. they couldn't bring that to the Yang's Palace, or you'd be seriously in trouble.

“oh, hi! it’s a pleasure to encounter you on this alluring afternoon,” you muttered with practiced politeness, offering them an awkwardly-wide smile. the maids seemed not pleased at all to see you, some of them furrowing their eyebrows at you and some, worse, refusing to bow. “you have, um, my parchments, so if i could, by chance, get them back it'd be.. lovely”

you forced yourself to smile so much your cheeks hurt, fake honey dripping from your voice. the shortest maid — which you assumed to be the chief servant — shifted, analysing your books in what felt like an eternity, and finally handed them to you, the contempt in which she looked at you leaving your stomach in knots.

“i’m assuming you weren't at all with our young master, am i right?” she hissed, enunciating her words just enough to tell you she knew.

“y-yes, correct. haven't seen him in several weeks, actually”

some other woman chuckled mockingly, the undivided attention leaving you overwhelmed, a tone of red appearing on your neck. ‘they don't have evidence,’ was what you reassured yourself, despite your awareness that King Yang believed in whatever their maids said. he was known to be a very diligent man, but if there was something you admired in him was the trust he had in people. you could never.

“i guess i'll have to leave, unfortunately. if you hadn't come unannounced i would have invited you to a tea, but we didn't prepare anything whatsoever. au revoir!” you excused yourself, rushingly leaving the lake area and sprinting towards Deoksugung.

they looked at you amused. first, youth was truly lost, where was your respect at when you lied blatantly? second, how could you dare to speak french? your ancestors would be turning on their graves if they heard this.

evenings at the Palace were always monotonous. eunuchs didn't walk as much, royal chefs prepared simpler dishes, servants didn't had so many errands to run.

right now, you were curled up on the floor, a novel — that you shouldn't be reading because ‘ladies should be occupying their heads with something other than romance crap’ — in your hands as you tried to focus solely on those vertical words that no longer made sense.

you were fantasizing again about jungwon's hand in yours, his starry eyes looking in yours, the way he trusted you fully and whether he may or may not have gotten scolded way back home. or if he even arrived home in the first place, when a servant knocked on your door, maid Kwon right next to him.

“there’s an unidentified letter for you, young lady Jeong. i insisted that we shouldn't deliver it, but the eunuch told me to just be by your side as you read it.”

you nodded, fixing your wrinkled skirt and tossing the novel to the side, not even bothering to hide your ‘wrongful’ act. the servant bowed and left, leaving you alone with the friend that had been with you since you remember — perhaps she was the person you liked the most inside the Palace, although lady Cho would be deeply upset to hear that.

you unfolded the thin paper carefully, your heart beating faster than before since you recognized the handwriting immediately.

the same that sent you tiny notes telling about his new punishment or how his father let him do an important royal duty.

jungwon's.

Bo-Ah sat by your side, her blue and white hanbok resting next to your own dress, a suspicious grin adorning her features.

you tried to hide the letter from her, but there was no way she would let you escape this one. not when she understood who sent you that.

“Dear young lady Jeong,

i’m writing to you to express my gratitude for what you did today. can you believe that my mother didn't even question me about where i was? told you she's starting to trust me more!

also, on my way home, i think i found our new encounter spot.

if you'd like to accompany me, i’ll be going there tomorrow at 4.

meet me by the water well behind Deoksugung. see you there,

from the very handsome next King of Joseon.”

the next hours resumed in maid Kwon telling you that it was a terrible idea for you to go, your mind working nonstop to finding ways of leaving the castle in an hour you shouldn't — 4pm was exactly when you had to take a bath, and the last time this routine was delayed was your birthday, because you had a celebration going on — and on your loyal friend, lady Cho, your father's youngest concubine, managing to persuade the royal guards to let both of you out for a stroll around the Palace.

what they didn't know, of course, was that the stroll in question involved you meeting the Yang Jungwon.

the area behind Deoksugung was one of the prettiest, yet it was dangerous.

many hunters had been found mysteriously dead over the years, maybe because the Yang's also had access there.

but you preferred not to think about it, since you were currently entering that same territory to, ironically, hang out with the rivals’ heir.

“when do you want me to return so we can come back together again?” Miyeon gently asked as if she tried recalling it, your arms locked as you jogged around birds and squirrels.

you faced the light-blue sky for a minute, questioning yourself once more, “around 6 would be nice, right before sunset.”

the concubine nodded, her braided-full-of-ornaments hair graciously shifting in the wind. you didn't speak much, the sound of green leaves being stepped on the only thing you could hear.

however, that was until you saw jungwon at the well.

he politely made a reference to lady Cho, who excused herself with a beautiful-educated smile, and walked towards you, a playful grin resting on his face.

“you’re about 3 minutes late. you're well aware that the future King doesn't like to wait, aren't you?” you rolled your eyes, approaching him and walking side by side to his tall figure.

“save it for your servants, jungwon.”

“i beg your pardon?” he nearly choked, raising his tone of voice. you chuckled at the flabbergasted expression he turned to you, an offended sound leaving his throat. “when did i allow you to be this casual, y/n?”

you gasped, dumbfounded, “woah! i'm older than you, okay, jungwon? and since when have you known my birth name?”

“why? shouldn't i?” his hand found the small of your back, by which he guided you through the trees. you felt a shiver running through your spine, but tried to shake it off, muttering nonsense to him as a response.

you kept silent the rest of the way, his long fingers caressing the jeogori of your dress as a reminder that he was still there, steps in sync with yours. somewhere in between it, you raised your eyes to his neck, spot in which you noticed a deep bruise, the dark purple mark idling his skin. perhaps it had always been there or he could have fell on his way back.

“shut your eyes, y/n” he whispered, lips close to your ear, and you willingly did it, fluttering your eyelids close, not before nagging again about why you can say his name and he can't say yours.

jungwon brought another hand to your shoulders, keeping you steady as you walked towards what you assumed to be the aforementioned ‘new encounter spot’.

after a few steps, his feet seemed to settle, and with another whisper in your ear, “we’re here”, you got to open your eyes.

if his firm hands weren't still glued to your body, keeping you standing, you were sure you would have fallen.

it was, by far, the prettiest thing you've seen yet.

a mesmerizing, kilometers long field of daisies of all colors and peonies stood by you. the vast camp of flowers mixed with the grass as the sun lit nature up, clouds adding up to the view with its calm and slow movements.

jungwon tilted his head to look at you, and you closed your dropped jaw, gulping some saliva, “what, do you not like it?”

“no! i mean, yes.. no!” you stuttered, blinking up at him, “it’s perfect, really. how did you find it?”

“well, during my way back to the Castle, i may have gotten lost, and ended up here.” he explained, dimples showing up on his face as he smiled, satisfied. “shall we?”

he offered his hand to you, which, for some reason, you accepted, holding his palm in yours as you ran like kids towards the field, grass getting stuck on the hem of your dress in a so not discreet way. you giggled and yelled at the world, not caring about appearance, and for a second, it felt like you had conquered the world. conquered happiness. you soon got tired, and both of you threw yourselves on the flowers, crushing the petals with your weight, leaving evidence that you were there, for real.

it wasn't a dream, after all.

but here, sat up next to him, laughing out loud about something neither could figure out what, it sure felt like imagination.

“this is, like, my first time seeing a lady with not-braided hair.” he mused, pointing a finger to you, “you’re such a gross princess, Jeong y/n”

you ran a finger through your hair, noticing the disheveled state it was in. it was also your first time having unbraided hair in front of anyone besides your maids and mother. you should have been embarrassed, but you weren't, because feeling natural with jungwon looked so simple. so right. “oh my buddha— look at yourself first, your goreum is literally untied.”

he tilted his head slightly to look at you, the bruise now more visible, your gaze flying to it unconciously. “paying that much attention?” he teased, words light, but didn't move an inch. maybe he was too comfortable to tie it, which was alarming, or perhaps he just didn't care at all.

you rolled your eyes, insects and flies flying over you, making low buzzes that only added to the environment, “i’m already getting under your skin, huh, your royal highness?”

“yeah, you're one of my few pet peeves” he pouted, nodding, visibly content with the name you'd just called him by, looking like he would give you a compliment or something, ‘respecting your Majesty is a very noble act, young lady’

hours passed by, and shortly the sun was setting, its borders fading on the horizon as the sky marvelously adapted to a mix of orange and pink. both of you lay down on the grass, staring into the clouds, in silence for once, enjoying the world pretending there was no violence, no rivalry, no danger.

just the two of you.

Miyeon was briefly back to get you, and you couldn't ignore the eyebrow she raised catching both of you so close, admiring the universe with such calmness of who had years to do so. you gave a last glance at jungwon, who playfully grinned and whispered, barely loud enough for you to comprehend, “see you here again the day after tomorrow, same time?”

you stared at him for a while, but then nodded, a shy “two in the afternoon is better” leaving your throat. after the small change, you ran away with such embarrassment of who had just made a confession.

“no, look, i swear his jeogori undid naturally” you explained to lady Cho, voice strained, defensive, “what? no! i wouldn't sleep with a Yang, for the sake of the queen—”

two days later, you found yourself walking through the same woods, destined to the very same place.

today, you were accompanied by lady Im, who insisted she had to deal with some stuff downtown, though given the way her lips curled into a smirk often, you highly doubted it. she was your uncle's favorite concubine, but was also known for escaping the Castle on multiple occasions. for multiple different reasons.

well, Nayeon had to run some errands, and you wished to meet a person you surely shouldn't, it was a win-win situation, right?

“am i late?” you asked in reaction to his confused face, scanning you a few times, his hair already messy from the field and a small spider climbing his shoulders. you wouldn't tell him about it, though.

around the spot the spider climbed, you were able to have a peek of the soft skin below the thick fabric, and, for some reason, another deep bruise could be seen, this one already yellowish, a recent-looking scar next to it. it was probably nonense, and you should really stop looking, otherwise he'd ask you with that smug smirk why you were staring that much.

“not at all, just— what is that?”

“that what? oh,” you raised the basket you were holding up for him to observe, proudly smiling, “my royal chefs cooked some hodu-gwaja this morning, and as it's a speciality of Deoksugung, i thought i should offer you this one-in-a-lifetime experience”

“love the humbleness” he teased, although he made a sign for you to sit down, and when you did, the dark-haired boy rushed to the snacks you brought, picking up one and handing you another, “i’ve always wanted to taste these. they're pretty famous there, eunuch Park talks about gwajas all the time.”

your eyebrows raised. you were genuinely content with having done something for him, something he'd like. you watched him as he took the first bite, his cat eyes lighting up and dimples making presence on both sides.

“how is it? perfectly amazing?”

“i don't like to admit,” he took another bite, the walnut cream getting stained on his cheeks, “but, seriously, this is so delicious.”

you giggled, playfully punching the air in victory, and also dug in, breaking the walnut’s shell in two with your teeth, “it’s dirty, look, over here”

jungwon put his fingers on the apple of his face, trying to clean up his pale skin, except it was the wrong cheek.

you chuckled at him, nearly choking on your sweet, “no, the left cheek. how will you be the next leader of your reign if you can't even—?”

it would've been fine, but you decided to clean it up for him, your smooth skin rubbing his face softly as the creamy stains fell on the grass. his breath visibly hitched, a weird-kind of hiccup leaving his parted lips when your fingers lingered longer than they were supposed to. your eyes widened too, and you retrained your hand immediately, trying hard to laugh it off, “shy, huh?”

he awkwardly laughed too, though it was audibly forced, the smile not quite reaching his eyes.

even if both of you didn't acknowledge it, for the rest of the afternoon, the tip of his ears continued pink and you talked way less, focused on fixing an ornament that stuck wrongly or on admiring an insect on the ground.

they call this ‘ignoring the elephant’ down south, don't they?

weeks had passed, and Hansik had just happened. you were supposed to be happy, because you enjoyed that spring festival more than anything, and moreover, the man your family wanted you to marry would be presented to you that very day.

you wanted him to be handsome, laid-back, easy to talk to, tall but not too much, the pointed black hat fitting his head perfectly, purple durumagi covering his broad shoulder in an unfairly good way, dimples so adorable and cheeks so soft you want to poke it.

perhaps, you wished for Jungwon. or an exact copy of him that you could marry without getting disinherited.

but you were too afraid of letting yourself acknowledge that, since wanting someone you can't have is something you don't want to be trapped into.

the real man wasn't like that whatsoever.

his figure almost matched your height, he was probably twice your age, his face full of wrinkles and a mustache so old-fashioned you swore you'd seen it on an old portrait of some late King.

if it already weren't the worst it could've been, he was extremely rude, and impolite, and didn't treat you like a person at all. you already knew that was your position on society ‘naturally’, however, marrying that man would mean you wouldn't have the opportunity to be heard. to be seen. to be yourself.

and to think that your own father wanted you to marry that, that your own mother was okay with it and even tried extra hard to please that.

you felt nauseous. wished you could punch that and leave a mark of blood on the smirk that had on its face. wished you could just run away.

perhaps that was why you sent jungwon a crumpled letter in the middle of the night, a mere “meet me there in an hour?” written, your rushed handwriting and the way your hands shaked noticeable even if few words were there.

you got off mid-night, earning pointed looks from guards, but you just couldn't bear to stay there anymore.

not when everyone around seemed a traitor, nor when lady Cho — who you trusted deeply — tried to convince you this was for the best.

walking towards the recently well-known woods, admiring how amazingly the moon lit everything up, you tried to reassure yourself that it was fine, because if that great bright light was still shining for you, the only reason was that there was hope, somewhere buried deep inside you.

when you arrived at the field, breathless from walking, jungwon was already there.

you broke down. completely.

your legs moved faster than your brain, the leather pastel-green shoes crushing daisies on their way, leading you to the only place you felt safe.

jungwon.

your heart pounded violently against your ribs, fluttering loud enough for someone to hear it. your lips parted slightly, maybe to say something, maybe just to breathe. your tongue felt too heavy. your mouth too unsure. so you just throw yourself in his embrace, hiding your vulnerable self into him, tears finally brimming down on your face. wrapping your arms around his neck, you touched it firmly, and with the tip of your fingers, you felt a thick scar, not even close to being cicatrized.

his face furrowed a little, mouth closing to a thin line, but he didn't say anything. just held you closer, wrapping an arm on your waist, keeping you grounded, otherwise you weren't sure you would keep standing. his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, chest tightening after seeing your usual confident self in such a broken state. he had no idea what could've happened, but tapped your back lightly either way, comforting you. reassuring you. “y/n, breathe in three with me, yeah?”

your broken sobs soaked his shoulder, a damp of tears wetting his beautiful durumagi, and you forced yourself to look at him, a new knot in your throat threatening to release. slowly, you nodded, breathing in a large amount of air that almost got stuck in your glottis, however, he encouraged you, eyes focused on your face.

“that’s it. good. breathe out now, follow me.” his hand softly stroked your column, so gentle you wanted to cry further. with a frown of concentration in his face, accompanying the movements of your throat, following your gaze and staring directly into your eyes, you noticed what you shouldn't. jungwon was the one to look at you like a person.

not as a trophy wife or an heir generator.

but as you, Jeong y/n, the stubborn person that couldn't tie laces nor cook a simple bowl of rice. that preferred to read romance over politics and secretly wanted to wear pants just once since it looked like it felt nice.

jungwon seemed to comprehend all of that, and in a sudden move, you caught yourself telling him about everything. more than you should.

“and the man, he was—” hiccup, “not even nearly as handsome as you, and—” hiccup, “he called me ‘future housewife’ every single time he wanted to refer to me,” hiccup, “i can't— can't remember his name. my good almighty, he makes me nauseous. he's the worst person ever, he's—”

he just nodded through it, making questions midway to tell you he was listening, engaged. “and can't you tell your mother about it?”

you sadly chuckled, another single tear falling down your cheek, “tell her what? that i loathe the man she sweet-talked to all evening?”

“this whole situation is ridiculous. i don't understand why they'd want to do this with such a.. special girl like you.” he murmured, admitting something more to himself than to you, accepting a fact he never did before.

you mattered. if he was this mad right now, it's because you matter.

“no, it's— i shouldn't be this sensible, all my ancestors went through the same. my mother, my grandmother, my great grandmother. everyone” you played with your hanbok’s sleeve, facing downwards, sniffing occasionally after some words.

“that’s what i can't understand. why'd they want to do the same to you? have they been happy?” his voice broke just slightly, anger breaking through his vocal cords, fists clenched. “hey, look at me.” jungwon cupped your chin gently, tilting it up, forcing you to stare directly at him.

the emotions crumbled back at you again, since he was right. halmoni always complained about having to abandon her one genuine love and omma insisted that it ended up being nice, though only because she conceived you. why would they want to make you go through the same thing?

perhaps the lines had started to fade, or you were too tired, but you melted into his touch, eyelids heavy, whispering: “can we spend the night here? i don't want to go back to the Palace.”

he observed you for a minute, paying attention to your features, apparently making a decision, before nodding, expression calm. his forehead relaxed, a small smile curling on the corner of his mouth. with a smooth movement, he took the upper part of his lilac jeogori off, — what left your eyes agape for a split second — laying the coat down on the grass so you could sleep comfortably. he tapped the area with his hand, indicating that he wanted you laid down, and you willingly did it, the tension of the day starting to fade away.

jungwon settled himself by your side, some centimeters of distance between you, still touching legs.

yet, he seemed so far away.

you wanted him closer. and closer.

you were starting to lull when he spoke up again, voice quieter, careful. “may i suggest something? perhaps we could like.. run away, get married, live content together. just the two of us.”

you short-circuited. your almost calm head now full of thoughts, possibilities, doubts, and deep down, a futile sting of hope.

marriage. marrying jungwon. you were aware of those stupid promises, things Young Masters promised to trap Ladies, things they never stuck on. however, he seemed so genuine. so trustworthy.

were you this stupid?

it wasn't a prudent decision, you were sure of it, but the offer seemed so tempting, so right. and jungwon was the only person out there you knew that could make you happier, wasn't he?

in seconds, you found yourself thinking about it. actually pondering it.

“where would we.. go to?” you naively asked, eyes meeting his in a gaze that brought you a million sparks, his pupils a dark tone of brown, slightly dilated.

“there’s this reign that will be inherited by my colleague, Jaeyun, Young Master Sim. it's quite far and he's a nice person. i think.. we could go there.”

you hummed softly, taking into account everything you'd risk. everything you'd lose. but also everything you'd win.

it was foolish, however, before your mind really processed it, you found yourself nodding, “okay.”, he smiled gently, tilting his head to ask — silently, like a confession — if you had thought long enough about it. if you were right about this. — instead of questioning it more, also because you were afraid of what you would've found, you agreed again. “when?”

he stared at the sky above you, the stars, the moon and how it lit you perfectly. how it lets you be even more gorgeous than what you already were. “tomorrow night?”

“right. yes.. that'd be awesome.” you awkwardly said, terrified of the consequences, but hoping that it'd let you finally be free, happy. that it'd prevent you from being trapped forever. that you'd spent the rest of your life with the boy you gave — secretly, under covers — your whole youth.

jungwon eyed you with a determined, firm expression and with a sweet whisper, he wished you goodnight, breath fanning on your skin, long lashes shutting down beautifully.

everything crumbled down on you again, your certainty nearly disappearing the more you thought about it, the evenings writing with maid Kwon or running through the Palace earning new meanings. because maybe it was the last time you'd lived those things. because you'd run away from it to protect yourself. to protect who you were.

the night passed in a blur, insects' sounds on the background fading to let you finally rest, even if it was the last peaceful night you'd had.

the first thing you noticed when you woke up was warmth, then, jungwon's body, and only a few moments later you noticed the position you were in.

curled up against him, head buried on his neck, arms gripping his sides as if you were afraid he'd let go. he laid flatly on his back, an arm draped over your figure, tracing absent-mindedly patterns on your skin, caressing it smoothly, announcing that he was awake and chose not to move.

your breath hitched, the rhythm in which you inhaled earlier faltering. you had no clue about how you ended up like this, but it felt good. warmer, safer, softer. slowly, you opened your eyes, the light infiltrating your orbes intensely. when you sighed, he turned all his attention to you, lips hovering just above yours, breath hitting your cheeks constantly.

“ ‘morning, sleepy head”

“what? i didn't sleep that much, did i?” you asked, tilting your head, your faces lining themselves up immediately.

you could kiss like this.

“the sun tells me it's past 11 in the morning, got anything to say?” the air that left his mouth traveled to you, and as if gravity was pulling you, you leaned in further, noses almost touching

“yeah, that you're a very comfortable pillow” you smugly grinned, rubbing your eyes to adjust to the clarity. when you opened your eyelids back, he was closer. leaning in just slightly, giving you a peek of how nice it felt to have him this near.

you didn't back away. didn't flinch. and when his hands held you tighter, bringing you impossibly closer to him?

reaching out to press your lips together felt natural, right, simple.

the touch was exquisite, a surprised gasp leaving his throat and going down yours. both of you remained still, adapting into the new territory. some time later, his free hand moved to cup your cheek, barely there, but pressing slightly when he tilted his head to kiss you deeper.

this time the kiss is slower, softer — his mouth opening against yours with such yearning, you nearly forget where you are and why you were there. his lips trail down to your jaw gently, then back up, brushing agonizingly slow before capturing your bottom lip again with a sigh. you turned your head to give his tongue more access and—

you weren't sure who backed away first, but soon your bodies were distant, both embarrassingly panting, his coat under you moving so much you assumed it could feel the tension.

you kept there, staring at each other for what felt like a minute, and you hurriedly sat up, a flush of soft red creeping up on your neck to the tip of your ears. “see you at the same time as always.. correct? um, bye.”

your legs involuntarily stood up, and in a rush, you ran — tripping and stumbling occasionally — in the direction of the Palace.

jungwon remained there, layed down, fingertip trailing his lips with disbelief, the memory of your lips touching his so vivid he swore to himself he'd never forget it. the first encounter of your lives in such a delicate, deliberate way.

Deoksugung was tidy as always, warm toned walls high and empowered, leaving the impression of a well-known strength you were tired of. the faint coat of arms, the one you remembered by heart, stamping its large gates, inviting you to face its insides one more time. your muscles forced you to continue walking, though your brain was already giving red-signs since you began to see the family royal guards.

yet, here you were again. chin held up, conveying a strand of confidence you didn't have whatsoever. or at least trying. because you were way smaller than the Palace, way weaker than the guards, feared way more than the maids who run through it all the time.

it didn't welcome you so well, either. knowing gazes accompanying you wherever you went, the main hall greeting you with its haughtiness. due to the hour, you assumed your grandma would be busy, thus you followed straight to your room, earning some poorly done bows in the way. already in there, you rushed to pack essential things: three full sets of hanboks, a parchment paper and a pen, emerald ornaments for your hair, some snacks that royal chefs delivered earlier and you didn't properly receive — since you weren't there, of course — and few other whatnots.

it felt weird. unfamiliar. strange.

perhaps the effect shouldn't be so immediate on you, but it didn't look like the place you should call ‘my house’ anymore.

suddenly, your bedroom didn't seem like yours anymore. the roof nearly suffocated you, the room spinning and leaving you dizzy, the memory of why you were doing that back to the center of your brain.

your freedom taken away, the image of the man you were supposed to marry haunting you again. the corner of your eyes burned, a knot forming on your throat and threatening to snap at any moment.

and when the tears formed, watering your eyes, you remembered about jungwon.

the warmth he brought to you, his irises entirely drowning in the dark of his pupils. his voice, that always flew to you like music, so kind it incinerated your heart. his face, that lightened up slightly and was stupidly good-looking even when he told you that you should do something as foolish as run away, or when it was flushed from touching his lips with yours. his touch, gentle and featherlight, leaving your skin burning wherever it made contact with.

you felt the urge to go back to him as soon as possible, escaping for once and forever the place you lived your whole life swearing it was your home even when it didn't feel like it.

therefore, with your heart in your hands and a faux confident facade, you willingly left by the main gates for what should be the last time, not even bothering to say goodbye to anyone — mainly due to the great fear you had of getting caught, but it didn't really matter. because regardless, that life wasn't yours anymore.

may we be finally free, right?

sprinting towards the stone well behind Deoksugung and consequently the flower field you'd left only some hours ago, you tried to shake your thoughts off, concentrating on what was beyond your view this instant. what you couldn't see just yet.

you sat down and admired the peonies, sniffing in some of them and letting their scent invade your nostrils until it made you confused, head with a growing ache. looking up at the marvelously lit sky, you couldn't help but noticing that jungwon was meant to be there by this time, but possibly, he could be late, or you could be early, there was no way to be sure unless you'd return to the castle, what you'd rather not do.

as the sun moved to the west a bit more, you sat down on the grass, opening your woven purse and carefully choosing a sweet to eat — after debating, you ended up with the dasik, a charming and colorful cookie that you were supposed to have with tea, such drink you didn't have. you chewed it with impressive disgust, noticing for the first time why those were meant to be consumed with something else.

somewhere between eating dasiks and checking the few stuff inside your bag, panic started to flood into your senses, though you couldn't precisely pinpoint when.

there was a reason for him to not have arrived yet, correct? you shouldn't be having a breakdown, you knew it.

but that boy was the one to be annoyingly punctual. to never not show up. and even if he had something going on and couldn't be there, he'd always warn you. have a way to contact you.

he always knew exactly what you'd do next. where you'd be.

and that's why, like a dumb person in love, you decided to stay, wait for him. every single noise earned a double check, every bird chipping was intensely looked at. there, lay down now on your back, you closed your eyes and counted many times from zero to a hundred.

46, 47, 48, 49..

you opened your eyes, the urge to release tears already there, your back sore from the position. he wasn't there yet.

63, 64, 65, 66..

the hard floor left you wondering how you managed to sleep there, and you missed jungwon a little more, because his heat made these things possible. he wasn't there yet.

89, 90, 91, 92..

the bugs annoyed you a lot, and you promised they were solely the reason why you lost yourself in your count and had to return to 90 once again. and yes, he wasn't there yet.

somewhere in between that process, when the stunning moon was starting to rise, a specially quiet, but loud enough for you to hear sound caught your attention. lifting your head and sharpening your senses, a tall, slim shadow began to appear in your view.

you blinked up multiple times, confused, and when you mustered up all the courage left on you to look up at his face, it shouldn't have, but your heart stung.

it was jungwon.

just a paler, weaker, visibly sick jungwon.

a new bruise appeared right below his eyes, one that looked, if that was even possible, deeper and more serious than the other ones. alongside it, a scar marked the side of his nose, the cut looking profound even from a distance.

you stood up so fast it took seconds to your vision to normalize, and ran towards his figure like a crazy person. your dress spinned and its wrinkled form no longer mattered to you.

“oh, y/n..” he smiled, a grin that didn't reach his eyes but was enough to make his dimples show. his features showed a sign of relief and disbelief altogether, like he couldn't believe you were there. you kept waiting.

“jungwon! my goodness gracious! where have you been? i mean.. are you doing okay?” your hands held his shoulders, and when he made a face of pain, like he would scream loud and hoarse, you moved away from him, eyes widening.

“i’m fine, really. and i'm sorry i kept you waiting.. it's just..” he shook his head, desperate for something to say, and showed you a festive-looking jar, holding it on the direction of your face. “i have.. something for you”

you stared at the pot, and if his voice wasn't lower, hoarser than before, you would’ve fought against that idea. however, soon your fingers reached its lid and you freed what seemed like hundreds of fireflies.

they danced around you, rising on the horizon and lighting up the flowers, making them more beautiful than what they already were. the insects flew gracefully as they were dancing, so in sync it left you wordless, mesmerized. amusement swimmed to your eyes, and with a gasp, you turned your body to face them completely, having the illusion of peace for a minute. exquisite flies also started to join in, the soft buzzing filling your ears, making you leave out a genuine smile.

jungwon kept his eyes on you the whole time. and with a soft sigh, he whispered, confessed: “we’ll never be seeing each other again.”

at first, you didn't react. the words lacking the impact they should have. when it finally made sense to you, you blinked up at him, tilting your head, questioning if you'd heard it correctly.

“what? why? what.. what do you want to say with that? what about getting married, and your friend—”

he cuts you out, voice barely there, “it’s.. i’m sorry. i shouldn't have promised you what i knew i couldn't guarantee.”

you broke. spinning your body to face him again, the fireflies’ light leaving him so beautiful it was a sin, you tried to understand it. comprehend what was happening. but you couldn't.

as if reading your thoughts, he dropped his head, tone laced with guilt, “my mother, she.. she has always known, you know.”

you didn't move. you refused to. your mind didn't get it yet.

“she discovered us when we were little, and according to her, we are getting closer now. she was here when we.. planned all that.” despite the pain, he kept steady, feet firm on the land so he was sure he wouldn't fall on his knees to apologize. to supplicate for your forgiveness.

even if he didn't deserve it.

“and can't we just go? now? you're here now, aren't you?” you tried to reach out for his hands, but he backed away, and you bit your bottom lip in desperation, in disbelief.

you had to keep breathing, but it was almost impossible. your rib cage hurt, and for a split second, maybe you were hiper ventilating

he sadly chuckled, “no.. we can't. they're going to come after you if i'm not the one to go.”

“but—”

“no buts. i'll be moving away, far away. and, if you stumble upon my grief, to protect you, i endure.”

your chest burned. and you shook your head in denial continuously, eyes begging for him to give a second thought. the silent that stretched later was agonizing, and you only break eye contact when he dropped a silent tear, one that said more than what a thousand words could say.

“this is not fair, jungwon—” your voice broke, but you resumed, “you didn't even give me a choice to choose for myself. how could you think about leaving like that and then i’ll continue here, alone? is this because you couldn't bear to live without even having a clue of where or how i’ll be?”

he didn't deny, but didn't use his voice either, his pupils getting redder, the margins filling with water

“i don't even know if you'll be alive, jungwon, please.” your tone was coated in something deeper than sadness, and if he wasn't already being harsh enough in himself, he would've given in to you. he inhaled deeply after your words in an act that left you worried sick, and instead of running away like a coward, in a move of a self-control he wasn't sure he had yet, he touched your wrist gently, stepping closer, heart fluttering inside his body, and put a silver delicate bracelet on your fist, the cold metal a contrast to his burning hot skin. “we'll meet again. it's a promise.”

you looked into his eyes, really looked at him, and there, while he walked further from you, you saw just a terrified, pathetically in love boy.

the last thing you said to him, while stupidly playing with the bracelet in your arm, “those bruises.. they were because of this, weren't they?”

he stopped for a second, and continued, back turned to you.

he let you there, alone, emotions surrounding you and leaving you in a dark solitude. the world around you crumbled, and amidst it all, there was jungwon.

the boy who taught you different languages and fulfilled your life even for a small period of time.

you never spoke to him again.

you never saw him again.

and nobody mentioned him again either, the Yang's now continuing their lives like jungwon never existed.

it was like he had disappeared completely.

Busan Train Station, 2025

the long trip was finally over, and even if the gaze of that stranger seemed comfortable enough for you to want to live in it, you forced your feet to stand up, the heavy luggage swinging in your hand.

you gave him a last good look, remarking his dimples, his soft skin and how he stared at you.

you didn't remember about being stared at like that before.

or maybe you did? the feelings were weird, conflicting.

you loud steps echoed through the wagon, and when you were about to leave it, a warm hand found your wrist, touching right above your silver bracelet. the one you remembered having since forever.

his touch sent shivers down your spine, the contact so different but familiar, like you'd done this previously.

but you were sure you never saw him before.

“hey, um, i think you dropped these”

💭 ik this took me years to be ready but i have my excuses, college has been eating me up (sacrifice reference) & finals are just around the corner. truly not the best time to be a student at an england uni 😭

taglist: @nuggets4lifers @won1yoiz @meowwwon @lavendersloane

366 notes · View notes

moonshapedbox · 4 months ago

Text

swan shaped heart

arthur morgan x preacher’s daughter

a/n: whew! this story is finally leaving the confines of my drafts and i’m so happy!!! it’s longer than I anticipated it would be but ultimately decided that this will be a series. longer chapter to start with to set up the storyline. extremely self indulgent bc i want a man like this. reader is pretty freaky but we’re all adults here okay sdfjkf special shoutout to @dilf-luvr-4evr who wanted me to tag her, tysm to u and to my other dear moots for hyping me up and encouraging me to write !!! ok i think that’s everything! :D

tags: reader is in her twenties, lots of fluff, hint of age gap, ton of romantic tension. no blasphemy bc i’m religious <3 hands..lots of hands (you’ll see) no smut but heavily suggestive, lots of religious themes throughout obviously, no use of y/n (I wrote in 3rd person hehe), read at ur own discretion !!!

wc: 6.5k

part one | part two

He arrived in a little town 15 minutes outside Valentine– couldn’t remember the name of it nor did he care. Hell, he didn’t know why he was riding there or what he was going to do when he did get there, but he was exhausted from casing banks and stores, or sizing up the potential jobs in the area, he needed a place to rest.

He looks up at the sky, the sun had just gone behind the mountain; he was too far from camp to head back now, there was no reason to risk being caught in any attacks from rival gangs if he were to travel during the night. The slight breeze was cool and wet, there was rain coming. He needed to find shelter–and quick.

The town hardly changed at all since he last visited 4 years ago, maybe a fresh coat of paint on the post office or the new signage on the general store–it was like time stood still. As he rode into town, there were a few people who knew him, giving him subtle nods as he rode past, others not at all. He found some lodging to stay in overnight and took inventory of his saddlebags, counting all the things he lacked. He decided it was smart to make a run. Soon enough, he secured his horses outside the general store, only buying a couple things before he left town again in the morning, enough food to last on the trip and a new pack of smokes.

He got what he needed and packed his saddlebags– when his eyes met with the church. He wondered how she was doing, what she looked like now, if she even remembered him at all—the preacher’s daughter. He heard a lot of stories about preacher’s kids; lascivious, wild and unruly. Although she was different– an honorable woman, who took everything her father taught her to heart, and tried to be her best when the Bible instructed it. Her even-tempered and friendly demeanor was like a calming balm on his aching soul. It was something so refreshing, so sweet in comparison to the life he was living. If life was a long and painful drought, then this woman was the rain– and he needed rain desperately.

“Mr. Morgan?” a voice broke him out of his train of thought. Mr. Morgan. That voice–he’d know that voice from anywhere. He looked back and sure enough there she was, standing there with her ruffled white dress, burgundy boots with laces wound up snug against her ankles, and a dainty swan pendant necklace that adorned her neck, glimmering in the western sun.

He inhales into a small grin, “Well, I reckon I know you from somewhere” he smirks. “How you doin’ little lady?” She squeals loudly and hurries over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a friendly embrace, “I can’t believe you’re here I thought you’d never come back,” she says, holding onto him for a moment longer before he pulls away. “Can’t have you be huggin’ me like that in the street or else people’ll think we’re sweet on each other” he jokes. She finally steps back to look at him and there’s a beat of silence, so short that if you were to exhale you’d miss it, but Arthur picks up on it. It’s awkward, in a sweet way. She looks down for a moment before looking up at him again, “Town missed you Mr. Morgan, where you been?” she asked.

He felt guilty at the question. He’d been robbing, scheming, hurting, killing. Although he couldn’t tell her all that, she’s a preacher’s daughter. He felt so surely that if she ever found out what he did for a living she’d shun him for the rest of his life, “Uh, work mainly. You know how it is darlin’,” he replied, putting a lit cigarette up to his lips, taking a drag.

“How long you plannin’ on stayin’ for?” she questioned, looking at his face for any clues to why he’s here. He shrugs, honestly he wasn’t planning on staying for long at all but since she’s standing right in front of him, with big glossy eyes and the hint of her sweet orange and vanilla perfume catching every now and again with the slight breeze– he couldn’t say no.

“Not long darlin’, just for the night and then I leave in the mornin’,” he explains, that should give him enough time to visit without raising suspicions. She flashes him a melancholic smile and nods, wishing that he’d stay longer. She never got a chance to spend any time with him when he came to visit for the first time.

Arthur Morgan–what a man, it would be an honor to get to know him behind his mysterious and aloof nature. To know what he was thinking, what he was feeling, she wanted to be the one to break his walls and scoop into his soul. Her mind starts to race with thoughts as her eyes gloss over his features: warm dark blonde hair, big blue eyes and scruffy beard–he was perfect.

He gets even more handsome than the last time I’ve seen him. He must have a girl–there’s not a woman on earth that hasn’t claimed him for herself yet. I wonder if he thinks I'm pretty…Lord, he’s so much older, so much more experienced– what am I thinking I ain’t got a chance.

“You okay darlin’?” his voice broke her train of thought, she watched him put the cigarette back to his lips. She nods, “You was always an inquisitive one.” she teases, trying to change the subject. He raises his eyebrows and scoffs playfully, he never thought of himself as the inquisitive type. “I could say the same for you missy…’sides why’s your Daddy lettin’ you in town all by your lonesome?”

“I’m just going to get a couple things, we ran out of some food back at the house,” she explains, kicking some of the dirt on the ground with her foot. Arthur nodded slowly, he was nervous. Why was he so nervous? Words not coming to him with such ease, that beat of familiar silence encompasses the air again. She looks over at the entrance of the general store, “Well, I guess I must go now, it was nice seeing you again, Mr. Morgan.” she softly bows her head and turns away. The sight of her leaving pains him, even if it’s just for a moment. There is something stirring in Arthur. Something big and explosive —yet strangely familiar. Before he can even think about what he’s saying, he hears the words leave his mouth, “Wait– I’ll go in with ya.” he says, stamping out his cigarette and catching up beside her, “it ain’t safe… a young lil thing like you by yourself.”

She stops and looks up at his big looming figure standing next to her, “I can manage just fine Mr. Morgan, but I will not turn down your company.” She quietly thanks the Lord under her breath and enters the store with him. She greets the shopkeeper while he follows her around, making mental notes of the stuff she’s buying, looking over her shoulder for trouble so she doesn’t have to.

“Y’know Mr. Morgan, you were our hero 4 years ago…helping us round up all our missing cattle that those awful Montgomery boys stole from us.”

Hero? A title that he rarely heard attributed to him. Her words transported him back to that time. He couldn’t believe it had already been 4 years since a trembling, fresh faced, beautiful young woman begged him to take care of some seemingly rotten men. Men that did nothing but terrorize the town by fighting, stealing, and getting into all sorts of debauchery– including looting and descrating her father’s church. As the tears ran down her soft and supple cheeks, she didn’t know that the man she was pleading to help save them from misery– was planning to rob her townsfolk and shoot them dead if needed to. A plan that would inevitably fail, all because his heart got the best of him.

He blinked back out of thought, “It was nothin’ really. It was nice spendin’ the week in only one place for once– speakin’ of them boys; they been givin’ you any trouble lately?” he exhaled, scanning over her features. “No, you must have scared them real good Mr. Morgan, ‘cause I haven’t seen them since.” she replies, checking the pears for bruises.

Of course, because he shot them dead.

“Well…maybe they moved away.” he gestures vaguely. She smiled politely and continued to shop for the ingredients she needed. She fidgets with her swan pendant necklace and he picks up on this small habit too–trying to etch every aspect of this woman in his mind so he’ll never forget. When she had gotten all she needed, he offered to pay for her groceries. A gesture that restored her faith in man. She insisted it wasn’t necessary but Arthur paid for them anyway. As they walk back out, they loiter around the front of the store for a moment.

“Thank you for courting me Mr. Morgan, y’know you really didn’t have to.”

“Oh sure, I wanted to, really.” he smiles softly.

They gaze at each other for a moment before she smiles back, “It was nice seeing you again Mr. Morgan. God bless you.”

He nods and smiles back, watching her walk away, wicker basket of groceries cradled in the crook of her arm. He sighs to himself, it was all so soft and so sweet, truthfully, he needed this. As he began walking over to his horse, thinking over the interaction, a soft ping of metal reverberated against the wood paneling on the steps. He looks down by his foot and a glimpse of something bright catches his eye, he picks it up and studies it.

It’s her swan pendant necklace.

“Shit…” he mumbles to himself. He looks around the building to see if he can catch up with her but it’s too late. He sighs and gives it another look over. The picture of the elegant swan on the pendant with gold trim perfectly catching the sunlight stared back at him. It was a beautiful pendant– while her family wasn’t dirt poor, he knew her folks were certainly not rich, especially given her father’s profession. There was no way she could have the money to buy this on her own–this must have been a family heirloom. He shoves it in his pocket for safekeeping.

That evening, the rainstorm he predicted was currently pounding against the glass of the window in his room. He shuts the door behind him and thuds himself down heavily on the side of the bed. He starts to rub his eyes, watery from exhaustion, with his index finger and thumbs. The events of the day weighed heavy on him, from having to stay overnight, to having to go back to camp empty handed, it was like a weight of stress was congregating in his chest. Despite all of this, the image of her stayed in the back of his mind. She looked well off and healthy, getting to see her after so long was pleasant to say the least. He sighs deeply and kicks his boots off.

He lays on the bed, adjusting his weight to the mattress to get comfortable. He feels something in his pockets that prod at his hip, before reaching back in only to pull out the preacher’s daughter’s necklace. While he knows it’s just an object, he shares a moment with it— reminding him of its owner. Oh how pretty she looked today, like an angel. She smelled so sweet, her smile so soft, she was divine in so many ways. He thought of how the cool enamel of the pendant would touch her warm skin. His mind starts to wander, thinking about her only wearing the pendant, how it would glimmer under the low light of a bedroom, as he caresses her soft, untouched skin. Guilt stops him for a moment, and he curses himself for thinking such a thing– this was the preacher’s daughter he was thinking about. It would never work and he knows it, she’s forbidden fruit–but there’s something that courses in his veins, something that makes his mouth water for just a small bite.

He lovingly caresses the pendant with his thumb, the ghost of a smile visits his lips. Strangely enough, he found himself dreading to give it back to her. The pendant was expensive enough that he could have just sold the damn thing and went on his way–or at least that’s what Micah would insist him to do. Although he would never inflict such cruelness on this innocent daughter of the Lord. No–he didn’t want the pendant for monetary gain, all he wanted a little memento to remember her by. He closes his eyes and places the softest kiss on the enamel of the pendant before opening his eyes again.

“The preacher’s daughter, of all women–,” he mumbles to himself, “you sure know how to pick ‘em…don’t ya?” He exhales as he rolls over, before placing it on the nightstand. He stares at it once more before putting out the candle.

“Goodnight girl.”

The next morning, Arthur finds himself on her porch, the sun barely cracking the sky open. He knocks a rhythmic pattern on her front door, and clears his throat. He’s nervous–strangely enough. He sniffs a few times and clears his throat again. He looks down at his hands and takes another glance at the pendant, he’s shaking just a bit. He should have been back on the road by now, but here he was, waiting for the preacher’s daughter to answer the door. What was taking her so long? Maybe this was a sign from God that he should just leave and take the pendant with him–the door swings open, he shoves the pendant back into his pocket before she can see, her eyes widen at his presence.

“Mr. Morgan!” she smiles with bewilderment. Arthur looks her over– she’s stunning even for so early in the morning. He takes his gambler's hat off and holds it against his chest, “Morin’ little lady,” he responds, “I–uh, found something yesterday,” he reaches into his pocket and extends the pendant out in his hand, “I think it might be yours.”

She audibly gasps and places her hand on her chest before clutching the pendant, “Oh my stars, I have been looking for this everywhere I was sure it got lost forever!” she beams with excitement, “Praise God you found it! Where was it?”

“Outside on the steps in front of the general store,” he replies. She lovingly stares at the pendant before looking back up at Arthur. She pauses and opens her mouth to say something, before closing it again. He cocks his head at her in confusion, she exhales and starts over, “You want to come in for a bit?”

Arthur grimaces and shakes his head, before exhaling, “Ah, I don’t know about that darlin’, I’ll gotta be gettin’ a move on. Besides I ain’t wanna intrude on y’all’s activities.”

“Oh I insist! I know, Papa would love to see you,” she explains. Her father would love to see him? He mentally rolls his eyes at her naivety. While it was true that the preacher didn’t actively hate Arthur, he wasn’t fond of him either. She frowns at his disbelief that laid evident on his features, “Really Mr. Morgan! I’m serious, let me repay you for finding my necklace.”

“Just a little bite before you go,” she smiles and sways her hips innocently. “I’m sure you’ll have a long journey back and you gotta eat, right?”

He sighs and smiles softly in return, “Okay. I guess I do gotta eat…just as long as I ain’t intrudin’.” He shifts his weight on one hip.

“Not intrudin’ at all. Breakfast is almost ready, come on in and make yourself comfortable.” she stands by the door and watches his big and broad figure walk through the threshold, “You’ll have to forgive Papa for his temporary absence, he’s in his room finishing the last part of his sermon. so I’m afraid it’ll be just us for now.” she says, closing the door behind them as she leads him into the kitchen. He was more than okay with that. It was already nerve wracking enough sitting alone with her, he didn’t need anymore stress from her father picking him apart in his head, cataloging all the sins that he’s riddled with.

He looks around the living room as he follows her into the kitchen. The house is quaint yet congenial–just how he would imagine a pastor to live. The scent of breakfast wafting through the air was wonderful, he hadn’t had a proper meal in days. He does what she says and makes himself comfortable at the table as she returns to the stove to gently stir the contents of the pan before joining him.

He sees the Bible open on the kitchen table, assuming she was reading it while she was cooking, “Didn’t mean to interrupt your routine,” he gestures to the table. She adjusts herself at the table and meets his eyes, “Nonsense, you’re not interrupting anything,” she picks up the Bible, and quietly continues to read, “I just like to read a little bit of scripture in the morning to get my day started. Let me finish this passage real quick.”

Arthur didn’t mind, he sits and fidgets with his lighter for a moment. After a few beats of silence, he puts his arm on the table and leans, trying to see what she was reading on the page, “So what’s it say?”

She giggled at his curiosity before clearing her throat, “It says, ‘Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you,’ that’s Esphesians chapter four, verse thirty-one and two.” She smiles softly.

Arthur nods, it all sounded lovely to hear. Although bitterness, wrath, and anger was all he was filled with– he couldn’t remember the last time he felt any differently. He felt like his whole life was one big sorry situation, tired of the ache of ruminating over the things that had gone wrong, people he lost, and regrets that plagued him. He was mad at everyone and everything. In Arthur’s case, forgiveness felt like water that was just out of reach for him. The thud of her closing the Bible jostles him back into the moment, he watches her get up and place the book back on the shelf in the living room.

“Y’know, you’re good at that.” he calls out to her, adjusting himself in the chair, his hips bucking forward a tad to get comfortable.

“What. Reading?” she calls back from the living room before walking back to where he was.

“Sure. If I was guaranteed you’d be the one preachin’ then maybe I’d start goin’ to church.” he smirked.

A rosy pigment of blush spread across her cheeks, “Now Mr. Morgan, what exactly is that supposed to mean? I’ll have you know Papa has wonderful sermons.”

That’s not what he meant– her obliviousness to his gentle flirting was endearing, he chuckles to himself. “I don’t doubt it darlin’” he mindlessly fidgets with his lighter again.

“--Hey, that’s a wonderful idea. Why don’t you come to church with me this morning?”, she inquired, “You can sit next to me the whole time.”

His eyes widened before grimacing at the idea, that really wasn’t the best move considering who he was–although she was none the wiser, “I don’t know ‘bout all that, darlin’...” He hadn’t stepped foot in church since–well since the last time he saw her 4 years ago. “Why not?” she asks innocently, her big eyes gazing back at him. “If it’s about how you’re dressed the congregation won’t mind.”

He looks down at his attire and exhales a chuckle through his nose, mentally rolling his eyes at her assumption, “It ain’t about the clothes… it’s–” he sighs in between his words, “you know church..ain’t my thing,” he rubs his jaw, thinking over how awkward it would be to sit at one of those pews.

“How do you know if it ain’t your thing if you don’t try?”

He scans her soft features, “I been around a lot longer than you, trust me on this.”

She gazes back at him and nods, walking back to the stove to finish preparing breakfast. There was a significant amount of silence that unaccounted for, Arthur who usually didn’t mind the stillness of the morning, grew restless in his chair.

“So…uh..whatcha makin’?” he asked, trying to find something to talk about.

“Biscuits and gravy” she replied, stirring the gravy in the saucepan to keep it from burning.

“Sounds good, ain’t had biscuits and gravy in a long time,” he taps his fingers against the table rhythmically.

Arthur was never good at small talk– he wasn’t like Dutch in that respect. That man could talk his way out of a death sentence, and God did he wish he had Dutch’s silvertongue right about now. Instead, he silently watched her cook, as a warmth spread in him. She’s wearing her Sunday best– and he notices the way her dress hugged her body and her bodice cinched her beautiful figure, how concentrated she looked when she was taking the biscuits out of the wood-burning oven, it strangely felt like home. For a moment, he forgot he was some outlaw, but just a simple man in the kitchen with his beloved.

“Mrs. Hawthorne was askin’ about you yesterday. She saw you ride into town” her voice snapped him out of his trance, he grunted an acknowledgement, “The lady who was convinced her dolls were talkin’ to her?” he replies.

“Well she– now wait there Mr. Morgan she certainly does no such thing,” she explains, “That was just a rumor.”

“Ain’t a rumor if I seen her do it,” he laughs, “Sometimes she talks back to ‘em. Gives ‘em funny voices.”

“That’s not funny Mr. Morgan,” she frowns, trying not to laugh, wooden spoon still in hand, “Besides it’s not right to gossip.”

“What’d I say?— Oh so it’s not okay to gossip but it’s okay to laugh at her expense? I get it now…” he jokes. She turns away, hiding her face from him. He stands up and saunters over to her, “Don’t think I ain’t seein’ you fight back a laugh. You think it’s funny too.” He chuckles. She eventually bursts out in laughter, the original joke not even that funny, it was something about his tone that tickled her. Suddenly, they both erupt in big laughter together.

The atmosphere in the room is light and airy–like both of them could breathe for once. “I think the gravy is done, you wanna taste?” she asked, her voice easing from laughter into a normal speaking pattern, wiping tears with the back of her wrist. Still grinning, he nodded in response, and leaned his hip on the side of the counter. She pulls open the silverware drawer and sighs, “Oh darn, I thought I had a spoon but I guess they’re all dirty.” she shrugs and fixes the issue by innocently tapping her finger into the saucepan, holding it out for him to taste. In her mind, she thought he would have a quick taste and tell her his opinion. Oh to the contrary.

His heart jumped at the sight of her outstretched hand, slowly but surely he wrapped his lips around her finger, licking the sauce. The pent up desire that was bubbling deep inside of him started to rise to the surface, and before he could catch what he was doing, he began to deliberately yet gently suck on her finger. The feeling of his tongue wrapping around and in between her two fingers, made her lightheaded, electricity ran through her body and caused a heat to pool in her stomach. After licking her fingers clean, he pulled away and gazed into her eyes for just a moment.

“It’s perfect,” he murmured, his voice low and slightly shaky. She gazes into his eyes for a moment, before responding with a small and trembling voice, trying to pretend she wasn’t affected. “You sure? Does it need more pepper?”

He knew exactly what she was doing, whether she realized it or not; and he couldn’t help but find her innocent curiosity endearing. A small smile appears on his face, “I don’t know, let me taste it again.”

A justification to have her fingers in his mouth.

Without a second thought, she taps her two fingers in the gravy again and holds them out for him, this time her hand trembles at the thought of re-experiencing the feeling. His big, calloused hand wraps around her soft wrist to steady her fingers for him. He takes them in his mouth again, gently caressing them with his tongue, silently wishing to himself that he could kiss her with this much fervor and passion. He looks into her eyes before closing them, letting out a soft groan of contentment before pulling away. “Tastes amazing.” he says, wiping the corners of his mouth with his fingers.

Her fingers miss his mouth, they feel cold and incomplete without him. She felt lightheaded and breathless. There’s that beat of silence again, but this time it's longer than before. She pants ever so slightly, and he notices, “You alright?” he smirks.

“Fine…breakfast is ready then,” she replies, her voice trembling with this new feeling coursing through her body. It was warm and soft, unlike anything she had ever felt before, she turned away and faced the stove again, “Go sit down, I'll fix you a plate.” refusing to make eye contact with him. They finally sit down to eat, although this time it’s different. She stares at him while he eats, trying to figure out this newfound warmth pooling in her, why everything he does makes her heart race.

“Missed your cookin’, forgot how good it was.” he says, before taking another bite. “It ain’t that good, I appreciate your kindness though.” she replies, pushing her food around with her fork. “Compared to the stuff I gotta eat, this is like society folk’s meals.” She flashes him a small smile in return, her thoughts are loud and her heart is racing, “Society folk, huh?” her voice warbles, she tries to continue the conversation, but her thoughts are clouded by him. The way he ate was almost bewitching to her, she stares at his hands and looks away trying not to get caught. Her own fingers twitch watching him take bite after bite, reminding herself of the feeling of his mouth around her.

“When you leavin’ town?” she asks, not really wanting to know the answer. The soft early morning light starts to peer through the kitchen window. The atmosphere is still, yet full of meaning. He puts the cup up to his lips to drink long enough to ponder her question, before swallowing the warm liquid and placing the cup back down. “In a couple hours, most likely. Why you askin’?”

She shrugs and continues to eat, her left hand resting on the side of her neck. Her eyes refused to meet his, scared that he might see the disappointment in them. He exhales, something is off about her, “Somethin’ botherin’ you?”. She shrugs again and stares at her food, moving it around with her fork once more, “Why you leavin’ so soon?” she asks in an exhale, worried that she might be overstepping.

He sighs, she didn’t need to know the real answer. “Work, darlin’...I’m on a...business trip,” he gestures vaguely. She doesn’t meet his eyes purposefully, trying to hide the tears in her eyes, it wasn’t fair that he made her feel things she never felt before, only to walk out and leave her forever. She prided herself to not be one of those girls that cry over boys. She always believed there were bigger and better things to fuss over–yet here she was. But what was the crime in missing someone? “Business trip…” she repeats under her breath before clearing her throat.

“What? Do you not believe me?” Arthur scoffs incredulously.

“It’s not that…you ain’t given me a reason to think otherwise but…” she pauses, trying not to overstep. “...But what?” He crosses his arms over and leans in closer against the table, the buttons of his work shirt pulling from the broad of his chest, she can’t help but pan down for a glance, her heart rate picks up at the sight of him. He was such a man– in the best ways possible. It was in his essence, his scent, the way he walked and talked, it drove her mad— it was so heavenly it agitated her.

“I don’t know, I ain't see why you gotta hightail it outta here. It’s been 4 years since you last been here and I mean for pity’s sake you just got here–”

“--And that bothers you?” he interrupts, slightly cocking his head at her.

She stammers, “I-I mean I feel like it’s not polite–”

He scoffs loudly, “Sorry I didn’t know you looked at me and saw the pinnacle of manners,” he places the cup of coffee back down,“Tell me what’s actually goin’ on,” he was starting to get to defensive. What had she heard about him that was making her so skittish?

The bantering conversation dies down and there’s a shared, intense silence between the two of them.

Oh. Oh.

He felt like a fool for not realizing it sooner–or more accurately making a wrong assumption about how she felt and potentially wrecking a beautiful friendship. He stares at her across the table as she continues to eat.

“You gon’ miss me when I’m gone?” he murmurs low, studying her face, his voice shattering the silence in the air. His words suspended in the air like a fruit ready to be plucked. “We’ll all miss you,” she replies softly, trying to avoid what he’s implying. He shakes his head and grunts loudly in response, “I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout them... I’m talkin’ ‘bout you.”

She nods silently, before looking back up and meeting his gaze. For a moment, just a single, solitary moment–he forgot about the war raging in his mind of whether he was a bad person, or feeling like he wasn’t good enough for her. It was just him and the preacher’s daughter, sharing a meal and a loving silence.

“Mr. Morgan–”

“You ain’t gotta be so formal with me hon, just call me Arthur.”

“Okay, Arthur, can I ask you something?”

He perks up at her statement, his curiosity giving her permission to ask. “I know you ain’t comfortable goin’ to church and I respect that,” she pauses to search for any discomfort for where the conversation was going, there was none, so she continues, “but I was wondering’ if you’d come to our annual picnic, this week. If you’re apprehensive about it being a church event– it's not. The whole town is gonna be there. It’s a town event, but I thought you'd like a bite to eat before you leave.”

He exhales and grins, “First breakfast and now a picnic? You’re really worried I'm gonna miss a meal huh?” he jokes, but she stares back at him, searching his face for an answer. His thoughts all align and he prepares to explain his reasons as to why he can’t come and that he’ll be back on the road in a couple of hours, but his words betray him, and he hears himself say something unlike him,

“I’ll be there.” He looks at her free hand resting on the table, and gently envelops it in his.

“I’m glad, it means a lot.” she murmurs, a sparkle of joy in her eye. She stands and starts to clear the table, placing all the dishes in the sink.

There is a deep well of feeling and connection between the two of them, one could cut the chemistry with a knife. It pounds in his chest and he doesn’t know if he should act on his instincts–but dammit if he wasn’t going to at least try to do something about it.

He rises from his seat and approaches her, standing as close as he can to her. Feeling his presence, she laughs, “ain’t they ever taught you about personal space?” She looks over and he’s smiling back, but there’s a seriousness to him. She does a double take of how close he is, her smile faltering a bit, realizing he’s not kidding.

“I reckon you ain’t ever been this close to a man before, huh?” He ghosts the side of his finger against her chin. She shivers, goosebumps rise on the back of her neck and down her arms, before shaking her head.

“Why you tremblin’ doll? I ain’t gon’ hurt ya.” he murmurs.

“I know,” she pauses, trying to find the words, “I just—never been looked at in this way before.”

He scoffs playfully, “Oh you’re more naive than I originally thought,” he looks over her face and down her body once more, “Men are definitely lookin’-- they just ain’t sayin’ nothin’ ‘cause you’re the preacher’s daughter–and they have a hell of a lot of sense to not say anythin.” he leans closer to her.

“Well…what does that make you then?” she shifts against him.

“A fool–probably. But it ain’t stopped me from sayin’ anythin’ before,” he exhales and continues to gingerly stroke her chin, admiring her beauty.

His voice becomes low, “You ever think ‘bout a man lovin’ on you baby?” The question vibrates in his chest. Her heart rate quickens, a beautiful shade of crimson spreads across her cheeks at the idea of something so scandalous, “Lovin’ on me?” she repeats.

“Yeah, you know, what married people do.”

For the first time in her life, she didn’t know what to say. She often would imagine in vivid detail, what she would do if she found herself in a scenario such as this. It was essentially drilled into her mind from a young age– that a man making advances was to strictly be condemned. That her purity was to be intact for her husband and only for her husband. The script of her imagination playing in her head, she’s seen it a hundred times–”sorry sir, I’m flattered but I ain’t interested”. It’s all she had to say…although for some reason she was rendered speechless, hanging onto his every word like her life depended on it.

in this moment– in some sick and twisted game of life, it was almost as if Arthur was forcing her to pick between which sin to commit– lying: claiming to not be interested in him; when in reality, the curiosity was gnawing in the pit of her stomach, or lust: throwing caution to the wind and letting him carry her bridal style to defile her in the bedroom that she grew up in.

She decides lying would weigh less on her soul.

“Mr. Morgan this ain’t proper…it’s immoral. I-I don’t entertain thoughts like that. I ain’t got a reason to.” she denies, refusing to acknowledge something so foul. It pained her to lie, she felt the guilt starting to creep in. Arthur smirks at her response, he doesn’t buy it, although her defiance and naivety makes his own pulse quicken. “Mmph, I see. So you don’t ever think about what your wedding night would be like? To finally have a man to warm your bed? Touching you all over and keepin’ you satisfied?”

Her breath hitches at the idea, never considering that a thought so filthy could have a moral loophole; but she dismisses the thought as soon as it comes, she continues to shake her head. The improperness of the conversation and her willingness to lie starts to make her feel sick with guilt. She shouldn’t be talking like this, not with a man no less. The mix of good and bad emotions swirl in her stomach like a bittersweet concoction about to boil over. As for Arthur, that insistent attitude of hers turns him on even more, and he can’t help himself to gamble how far he could go, “Oh c’mon darlin’, not even how it would feel? To have a man take his time with you and run his hands up your–”

He found her limit, she cuts him off before he can finish his sentence. “No Arthur!” she barks, “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore! You will not bring this–this debauchery in this house; especially with my Pa in the next room, have you no shame?!”

He knows he should take her seriously but the way she’s yelling at him is getting him even more worked up. He laughs a hearty chuckle, “yeah for somethin’ so repulsive to ya– ya sure are flushed!”

“Stop it Arthur it’s not funny.” She frowns, the guilt washes up in her like a shoreline. This must be what Papa was warning about on Sundays, the sin that drives a person crazy, to commit crimes and all sorts of deeds all in the name of passion. Arthur was creating new emotions she had never experienced before, the only cost of receiving it was with a backing note of remorse. Although, there was a cadence to Arthur that beckoned her to his presence. Like a siren beckons the sailor out to sea–only she was the sailor.

They gaze into each other’s eyes, unwavering and raw, “Arthur,” she exhales, leaning softly into his touch. He grunts in response, gazing lovingly back at her, his index tracing down her neck, making its way down to her collarbone, the other hand resting gently on her hip. She squeaks at the sudden weight of his hands on her, newfound warmth spreading in her. He scans her face for any hesitation, when suddenly she finds the words she’s looking for.

“I’m waitin’ til marriage…”

He figured as much. What was he even doing? He knows this already. Lightly removing his hand, his palm hovers over her hip. He treats her like glass, scared he was gonna break her if he touched her at all– what a delicate little thing gazing up at him. He blinks and clears his throat, staggering a couple steps back. “Right. I know…I don’t know what I was—I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped, miss.”

She crosses her arms and as if she is trying to warm them, her fingers finding a way to the pendant Arthur rescued for her, fidgeting with it between her fingers, “You didn’t…I’m not upset… I just– I think– it would be best for you to leave now. For both of us.” she murmurs, “I’ll give Pa your regards.” He nodded in response, pressing his lips into a fine line, “Okay” he says barely above a whisper.

“Mr. Morgan?” his heart sank at her sudden formality— a fear that he ruined everything between them began swirling behind his chest, he came to a halt at her words.

“You still coming to the picnic?”

He stands by the backdoor, loitering around the frame, before looking back over his shoulder, he exhales and gives her a small, sad, smile, “Thank you for the meal, darlin’. It was nice seeing you again.” The door hinge squeaks before he walks outside, the sound of boots shuffling against the gravel becomes quieter and quieter before it dissipates completely. She’s left with the burn of his shadow haunting the doorframe and the ghost of his touch printed permanently on her frame.

thank u sm for reading it means so much to me truly <3 hope you all enjoyed part one !!!

#this is my first full fic i’ve ever posted im so scared #i’ve proofread this 40 times i’m sick of looking at it #if i missed anything lmk!!!!#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 community #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #— rinnie writes ♡

235 notes · View notes

junnieverse · 4 months ago

Text

SLEEPY HEAD ➳ M. JAEHYUN

➙ synopsis: how spending a relaxing morning in with your boyfriend is, completely engulfed in his embrace

pairing: myung jaehyun x gn!reader

genre: fluff (it’s so cute I can’t) and like one suggestive line

word count: 0.6k

warnings: not proofread, may contain small typos as well, clingy myungjae hehe

a/n: this is my first time writing for bonedo and I wanted to pick up on the reception of this post before deciding if I would potentially start writing for them too so pls lmk what you all think? :)

a/n (2): who’s your boynextdoor bias(es)? Mine are Jaehyun and Taesan ^~^ (reblogs highly appreciated!)

Mornings were simply one of your least favourite times of the day.

Having to wake up and plan out your day and get your mental planner ready for whatever it is you had to do.

Whereas some others woke up and let the day go by spontaneously not having much planned but you liked to atleast have some idea of how your day would go.

It's one thing planning out your day and it's another having to actually get up to be productive.

To say the least, you were far from being a morning person.

But boy did you love waking up next to your boyfriend, Myung Jaehyun.

This morning was no different as you rolled over to the side as you let out a soft huff feeling the light slip through from the curtain hitting your face.

You wanted to do nothing more than sleep longer but it was quite difficult for you to do that when the sun was out and bright.

Closing your eyes for a few seconds longer, silently letting your brain regenerate, you finally muster up the strength to try and get up before a pair of arms around your waist tugs you to stop.

"Mhmm" the male beside you groans as his cheeks puffed out and his lips formed a little pout tempting you to kiss him but you hold yourself back from doing so.

"Where are you going?" he asked softly, his eyes still shut trying to pull you down back into his embrace to which you couldn't help but softly giggle to finding his clingy antics adorable.

You fall back letting your head hit the pillow as you come face to face to Jaehyun.

Nothing said as you both quietly look into each others eyes, a gradual smile creeping onto your face slowly as your cheeks slightly heated up from feeling shy.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you proceed to tease him with a shy smile as he leans in closer to you.

"You just look really pretty." he responds matching your smile before he closes the gap between you two in a soft kiss.

Letting your hands do their own thing, they start off laying on his chest before slowly going up to rest to cup his cheeks as you both smile pulling away from each other.

You both spent another few minutes simply in each other's company, no words exchanged between the both of you as you gently brushed a strand of hair away from his face.

He placed his hand atop yours as he linked your fingers with his before moving it away from his hair to place a soft kiss in your palm making your heart flutter.

"We should be getting up soon so we can get started for the day. What do you want for breakfast?" you ask him lifting your upper body up as you stretch yourself groaning in relief.

"You." Jaehyun remarks cheekily as he chuckles lowly before you hit his arm playfully.

"I'm kidding baby. We can eat later, there's plenty of time." he adds on quickly.

Pulling your arm as you weakly cave, letting your head hit the pillow again, only this time you were faced away from him as the little spoon and your boyfriend wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into him.

His head rested between the crook of your neck, his soft breathing tickling you making you smile at the gentle feeling.

He wasn't completely wrong about that either, sometimes you didn't need to intensively plan out your day when you could just let the day unfold itself.

Or in other words do pretty much nothing productive intentionally which could still be a well spent day.

Maybe a few more minutes wouldn't hurt you thought to yourself snuggling in closer into your boyfriend's arms as you closed your eyes letting the sleep take over.

204 notes · View notes

sugrhigh · 1 year ago

Text

BOY NEXT DOOR 8 - ( c.s )

part seven

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- ANGST! it’s just fluff and angst get ready baby

a/n: hellllooooooooo sorry everything takes me fucking forever to write but i am once again back hehe i truly hope you enjoy

despite what many people might think, chris has never been on a proper date in his life. and it’s silly to admit, considering he’s hung out with women in so so many different contexts, but it’s never been formal like that.

he swears he’s never even said the word out loud, as if he was scared of getting infected with real feelings, scared of things getting too serious. so he vowed there would be no flowers, no fancy dinners, no romance. just pure physical connections.

and it stayed that way for so long that he figured it would never change. he’d be a bachelor forever, hopping from girl to girl, showing them no more vulnerability than a simple smile.

then he met you, got to know you, and that mindset disappeared. the fear of being blindsided is still there, nestled somewhere deep in the trenches of his heart.

but to him, you’re worth the potential heartbreak.

so when he shows up at your doorstep with a bouquet of tulips saturday afternoon, it’s a bit of a surprise for the both of you, though not an unwelcome one.

“there’s my pretty girl.” chris smiles, trying desperately to play off his nerves.

my pretty girl. the words ring through your head like a church bell, and even though it’s embarrassing, you’re unable to stop beaming at him.

“what are you doing here?” you ask curiously as he hands the flowers over.

he swallows thickly, shoving his now-freed hands in his pockets. “i wanted to ask you out. on, like, a real date.”

for a moment you think you’ve heard him wrong, or that this must be some kind of prank. in what world would chris sturniolo, infamous playboy, be throwing in the towel and dating? let alone dating you?

but his face remains eerily serious. you can tell he’s a little anxious by the way he’s shuffling his feet, which is endearing. you’re not sure he’s ever done this before, and yet it's the sweetest gesture.

you’re pleasantly shocked by the happiness that’s washing over your body, and as much as you don’t want to give into it, it’s almost impossible not to.

“i think i can definitely squeeze that into my calendar.” you grin.

he visibly relaxes, chuckling slightly at your response as he shakes his head. “next time i’ll schedule it with your secretary.”

the fact that he said next time almost makes you freeze, but you play it off without skipping a beat. your heart is doing backflips, so you clutch the flowers and try to contain it.

“you know the drill, i’m a busy woman.” you shrug playfully.

“be ready by seven?” it’s a question more than a request, because he’s not fully confident that you actually are free.

“yeah,” you nod, stepping closer to give him a kiss of reassurance, “i’ll see you then.”

even feeling your lips on his for a second drives chris absolutely crazy. but there’s plenty of time for that later. right now he’s the perfect gentleman, the guy you deserve.

“oh my god, is it seven already?” ramona checks her watch from the couch, completely in a daze.

she's been religiously rewatching her favorite show, swearing that it inspires her to work on the project she’s been procrastinating. you know she’s too invested for that to be true, but you can’t blame her.

“it’s time indeed.” you nod, slipping your feet into your knee highs.

“oh my gosh, you look so good!” she gushes, popping up from her spot to come wrap you in a hug.

mona barely gives you time to fully zip up your shoes, and you both almost go toppling. you can’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm, straightening up so you can hold her back.

“jesus, you could’ve given me one more second.” you tease as you pull away.

“sorry, cuteness aggression. i think i’m just too excited for you.” she apologizes, even though she knows you’re not actually angry.

“i’m happy you approve.”

it’s the truth; having both of your roommates’ support means the world to you. especially since you’re falling for him, which is terrifying on its own.

you can’t remember the last time you’ve been this serious about a guy, but it feels so good.

ramona smiles right as the doorbell rings, and you hear cassidy come bounding down the stairs. she looks bewildered, definitely startled awake from her nap, and you can’t help but laugh.

“he’s here! and damn, you look sexy bitch.” she says, joining the two of you by the living room.

you smile as she pushes you forward slightly, shaking your head. “you guys are embarrassing me.”

“payback for the millions of times you’ve done it to us.” cass snaps back playfully.

ramona rolls her eyes, waving you to continue to the door as she tugs her counterpart into the kitchen. “no fighting, go have fun! we love you!”

you let out a breath, squaring your shoulders and raising your chin as you step toward the door. you’re more nervous than you expected to be, but when you pull open the door it’s like you immediately relax.

seeing chris dressed up in a quarter zip and those ripped jeans you adore on him makes your heart swell. the easy-going expression on his face calms your anxiety almost instantly.

you see his own eyes travel down to your exposed legs, covered only by your favorite little black skirt. your off-the-shoulder long sleeve is hidden slightly by your leather jacket, bold makeup accentuating your features.

he feels like he’s suffocating, seeing you look this good knowing it’s all for him. that you’re almost his. he wants to taste you, to ruin your lipgloss just to feel you on his mouth.

“you look…unreal.” he breathes, offering you his hand as you step out to join him on the front step.

“you look pretty great too.” you admit sheepishly, and he gives you a gentle kiss because he can’t help it.

you chuckle under your breath as he pulls away, wiping the gloss from his mouth with your thumb gently. chris just smiles, kissing the pad of your finger briefly before tangling his hand in yours.

“come on, we can’t be late to our first official dinner reservation.” chris urges as he leads you to his car.

he’s embarrassingly giddy as he holds the passenger door open, and you hop inside happily. it’s become one of your favorite spots, riding around next to him with his hand on your thigh.

tonight is no different. his thumb brushes against your skin reassuringly as you hum under your breath, watching chris drive out of the corner of your eye.

he’s just so handsome, especially right now. you’ve always known that, but it’s different. you care about him so much that just looking at his face kind of makes your day, as horrifyingly honest as that is.

you can’t help but smile to yourself, and he pulls into the parking lot of a fancy little restaurant a few moments later.

“i’ve always wanted to try this place, you know. i just never had the right occasion.” you admit as chris helps you back out of the car.

he laughs slightly, hand snaking its way to your waist after he closes the door behind you. “i haven’t either, but you’re the only worthy occasion i can imagine.”

you feel your cheeks heat up slightly. “stop flattering me, i know you just want to get lucky after we’re done.”

“i want a lot more than that, sweetheart.” chris replies truthfully, kind of enjoying letting his mouth run. he’s held his feelings in so much lately that it’s nice to just be honest.

meanwhile you’re desperately trying not to read into his words too much, but at this point it’s hard not to. it seems like he truly does like you, and for the first time in your life you might actually see a future with someone.

once you’re inside, the hostess guides you to a nice booth in the corner, smiling sweetly at chris as she leaves. it doesn’t matter; he’s got his hand in yours, and he’s not looking at anyone besides you as you sit down.

“quit staring at me like that.” you tease, even though you’re only half-joking.

chris tilts his head to the side, smirking at you like he can read your mind. “why, does it make you nervous?”

“no.” you lie, and he just shakes his head like he doesn’t believe you.

your waiter saves you a moment later and you order your drinks; a beer for him and a margarita for you. by the time they’re on the table, you and chris are already deep in your usual random conversation.

it’s impossible to stop looking into his eyes as you chat, your foot bumping against his as you both lean forward towards each other. his fingers dance across the top of your hand, simply because he’s unable to go more than a minute without physical contact, especially when you look so gorgeous.

you’re halfway through the actual meal when you’re finally forced to excuse yourself and use the bathroom, even though you don’t want to leave for even a minute.

“don’t miss me too much.” you joke, sliding out of your side of the booth to give him a quick kiss.

“you know i will.” he smiles as you pull away, watching you head toward the restroom with hearts in his eyes.

looking at yourself in the mirror once you’re done only confirms what you already knew; you’re having the best first date ever. your reflection smiles at you as you wash your hands, so wrapped up in your own head that you barely notice the girl who comes up beside you until she clears her throat.

startled, you glance her direction, only to find that she’s already staring right at you. your stomach bottoms out as your body fills with dread for a reason you’re not yet sure of.

“uh…can i help you?” you ask, trying to keep your voice light and friendly.

she flips her long brown hair over her shoulder, cat-like eyes narrowing just a bit. “so, you’re chris’s little plaything, huh?”

you try to swallow the lump in your throat, but it simply won’t go away. “that depends on who’s asking.”

the girl scoffs, turning away from you just a bit so that she can reapply her lipstick in the mirror. “the girl who fucked him three weeks ago when you walked out, that’s who’s asking.”

the acidic taste of bile fills your mouth, and you suddenly feel like you’re going to throw up. your ears ring and the world shrinks, like there’s no air left to breathe.

how the fuck does she even know that? did he talk to her about you? your mind is spiraling out of control, thinking about every single aspect of that fateful morning.

you see her smile sharply at your reaction, satisfied that she’s caught you off guard. it’s impossible to compose yourself, though, because everything is coming crashing down.

“c’mon babe, you thought he really liked you? he didn’t even wait twenty-four hours to get on top of me.”

“he wouldn’t.” you whisper, even though you know that’s not the truth.

this time she actually barks out a laugh, tossing her tube of lipstick back in her bag before turning to face you once more. it doesn’t help that she’s undeniably gorgeous, exactly his type.

“he would, and he did. but if you don’t believe me, just ask him. mention the name daniela and you’ll see for yourself.” she says, fixing her hair one more time before stepping around you to get to the door.

you hear it slam behind her, still rooted in the same place, unable to move. you don’t want to believe it, but she was speaking with such certainty that you’re already convinced.

tears sting your eyes like salt in the wound. your face is no longer filled with the cheerfulness it possessed a few moments ago; now you just look crestfallen. but you won’t give in to your emotions yet, not without confirmation.

you don’t want to confront chris, but you know you have to. so you send your roommates an SOS text to ensure you have a ride home, and then you steel yourself to go back.

you have no idea where daniela went, but it doesn’t matter because you don’t look anywhere but straight ahead as you walk. your whole body is tingling, entirely on the verge of breaking down as you find your way to the table.

not yet, not yet, not yet.

the second his face lights up at your return, you want to crumble. he looks so sweet, the boy you thought had finally changed for you. but then he notes your tight expression, and a frown replaces the grin.

you don’t sit down. you just blink at him for a second, trying to force the words out. you’re silent until he opens his mouth to speak, which finally empowers you enough to cut him off.

“tell me about daniela.”

he straightens uncomfortably at the mention of her name, which already gives you your answer. your heart twists, so much so that it physically hurts inside your chest.

“what?” chris responds, staring at you dumbly.

“did you or did you not sleep with a girl named daniela a day after me?” you ask as calmly as possible, ignoring the fact that your fingernails are digging into the skin of your palm.

his face somehow contorts to look even more grim, and you shake your head slowly. a smile of disbelief makes its way across your lips, which you suppose is better than sobbing.

“yeah, i’m done here.” you snap, yanking your jacket and purse up before turning on your heel.

“please—” his hand circles your wrist and you yank it away without a second thought, not caring if anyone sees.

you just keep walking. everything is completely numb at this point. it doesn’t even feel like you’re in your own body, you’re just moving. the fresh air hits you as you step outside and you inhale the cold, letting it shock you awake a bit.

you unravel your jacket from your arms and put it on as you book it through the parking lot, only to realize that you’re shaking.

the double doors burst open behind you, and you hear him shouting your name, but you still don’t stop. his heavy footsteps increase in pace, and you make it to the sidewalk just outside the restaurant when he finally catches up.

“please, just give me the chance to explain.” chris begs, once again reaching for your hand to try and slow you down.

you stop, only to shove him away from you with a surprising burst of power. he let’s go, but he’s still looking at you desperately as if it’s not black and white.

“there’s nothing to explain. in fact, this is exactly why i fucking hated you so much to begin with, why i was so hesitant to let myself believe that you could actually feel something for anyone besides yourself. you made me look like an idiot, thinking that you’d changed at all.” you lash out, unable to control the rage spilling out of your mouth.

he winces, visibly hurt from your words, but he powers through anyways. “i immediately knew i made a huge mistake, and even though i did it thinking it would make me feel better, it made everything worse. when you left that morning i thought it was over for me, and it hurt in a way that i’ve never felt before because i really fucking care about you.”

you snort, crossing your arms over you chest defensively. “yeah, well, you’re doing a fabulous job at showing it. i mean seriously, chris, do you know how fucking horrible that was? to find out from the girl herself because you couldn’t be bothered to at least be honest? and now you expect me to believe anything you say when in reality your words mean shit.”

chris feels you slipping from his fingers, so quickly that he doesn’t know how to stop it, or how to get you to trust what he’s saying. it’s a type of distress that he’s never been through before, because he’s never gotten attached.

“i know i fucked up, and i know i should’ve never even responded to her in the first place. i don’t have the right to ask you to trust me, but i need you to know that it didn’t mean anything to me.” he pleads, unable to keep the emotion out of his voice now.

you feel your eyes burning again as you meet his gaze, and you’re not sure if it’s hurt or frustration making you cry.

“it means something to me. i put my faith in you enough to go all the way, to let my guard down this past month and admit to myself that i do have feelings for you. and now i look just as stupid as everyone told me i would, even though i really did trust you so much. i thought things were different, that you wouldn’t dare do that to me.” you’re choking on your tears as you speak, and all he wants to do is reach out and wipe them away but he can’t.

you take a step back, almost instinctively. “but you did, and now it’s over.”

chris feels his whole world stop for a second. he takes in every inch of your heartbroken face; eyes wide and red, tears streaking down your cheeks as you hold yourself in your own arms.

he hates himself so much, more than he ever has in his life, for destroying things with the only person that matters. especially on a night that was supposed to be so special.

“i’m begging you not to do this. i’m so, so sorry that i ruined your confidence in me, but it’s only ever been you. you live in my thoughts, in my dreams, in every single goddamn place i go. and it took me way too long to say it, but i want to be with you so badly that it kills me. you know this is real, and i will do anything to prove it to you.” he takes a step closer, but you move away and put your hand up as a warning.

it’s everything you’ve been wanting him to tell you, but it’s too late. you don’t know how to forgive him yet, and you’re not sure you’ll be able to forget.

“i can’t, chris. i just…i don’t know anymore.” you sound so defeated, but you don’t care.

by the grace of god, your friends pull up at the exact right moment to save you. cass throws her hazards on and stops the car, glaring bullets at him through the glass as she waits for you to get in.

you’re done talking for now, and chris recognizes that. there’s nothing he can do or say to take it back, and as much as he wants to keep trying, it’ll only push you even further. so he nods his head once solemnly, vision beginning to blur as he takes all of you in one last time.

you’re the girl of his dreams, and he’s absolutely fucked it.

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” he repeats as you pile into the backseat, unable to conjure up any words besides those ones.

it registers in your head, but you don’t respond. you can’t even look at him anymore, because it’s too hard to think about what could have been. so you close the door hard, determined to shut him out of your life for good this time.

@fawnchives @l9vesick @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @impureals @chrisactualwife @fikefries @riasturns @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @rubyjanexxx @reallykaz @neatcarrot767 @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts @stunza @beccaluvschris @asturniolos @slutz4sturniolos @mattslolita @alorsxsturn @sturnrc @chrissystur @kellsbells-18 @realqueenofpepsi

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #fanfic #hockey!chris #hockey!au

472 notes · View notes

hamburgerndsprite · 5 months ago

Text

Sprite's Favourite Fics {Bangtan Fics} Part 2

(Also, all the moodboards are edited by me and therefore I request everyone not to repost them as theirs.)

[Masterlist]

[OT7]

{ONE SHOT}

➺ Hormonal by sm-entertain-me

Synopsis: Being pregnant is usually a wonderful experience as you are gifted with the ability to have a child with the love of your life, but you had no idea what kind of side effects would come along with it, let alone the new hormones racing through your body. (For argument’s sake, you’re about four months pregnant with their child so you have a tiny bump, not too big.) Contains: Smut, ot7 x (f) reader, pregnant sex, pregnancy hormones, adult language

➺ A Thousand Springs by minniepetals

— pairing: bts x reader — genre: angst, fluff, poly!au, historical!au, royalty!au — word count: 11.4k — warnings: poison consumption, talks of death, reader gains illness from poison that has the potential to take her life, injuries, hurt and comfort (happy ending) — summary: when poison threatens to take your life away from them, they only wish they had more time with you

{SERIES}

➺ Getting back into the swing of things by jellifysh

— pairing: ot7 x reader — genre: exes to friends to lovers / strangers to friends to lovers / light angst / fluff / slow burn / roommates au / polyamory — summary: Namjoon falls back in love with his ex (and his boyfriends do too)

➺ Abundance by angelicyoongie

— pairing: hybrid bts x human f!reader — genre: fluff, angst, eventual smut — word count: 5.2k — summary: You never expected that you would end up adopting a hybrid, and if someone had told you that you would end up with seven? Well, you would have thought they were crazy. But here you are, with three different packs of hybrids that don't get along – but all want to stay with you. Yeah, turns out crazy is an understatement.

➺ Safe and Sound by bearr02 [ONGOING]

Pairing: Hybrid! ot7 x f! Reader Chapters: 13 posted + drabble Genre: Fluff, angst, eventual smut, non-idol au, hybrid au, strangers to friends to lovers au Summary: You have worked at a hybrid rehab and adoption center for years, enjoying being able to help people others only see as their animal side. You thought you might end up taking in one or two, what you didn’t expect however, was to take in 7.

[KIM NAMJOON]

{ONE-SHOTS}

➺ Baby Fever by 95rkives

parings: bf!namjoon x fem!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, namjoon is in love wc: 1.7k summary: what was supposedly a peaceful morning stroll in the park, an unexpected encounter triggers namjoon’s intense desire for a baby, turning him into an adorable, baby fever-filled mess.

➺ Enchanted by hueseok

pairing: namjoon x reader word count: 5.6k content: fluff | smut | little angst | harry potter au | established relationship au | domestic au | ft. husband!namjoon (and short dad!namjoon too hehe); wizard!reader Summary: being married for almost a year now, namjoon thinks it’s time for you and him to start trying to build your own family together. so, to introduce the concept to you as enticing as he can, he prepares a romantic and cozy date night where he intends to drop the idea to you, his lovely wife, unaware that when he does, he’ll be getting the biggest and most shocking news in his life.

[KIM SEOKJIN]

{ONE-SHOTS}

➺ Last Christmas by xjoonchildx

pairing: seokjin x reader word count: 9.0K genre: exes to lovers, smut, snark, snarky smut, extra snark summary: it was bound to happen, eventually. after months of near misses at barbecues and birthdays, there’s no avoiding your ex-husband at hoseok’s annual christmas bash. but it’s fine, totally fine, because you’re both adults – and you’ve both brought dates and booze. what could go wrong?

➺ Love Potion by btsinned

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader Genre: Fluff words: 5 k

➺ Syncope by ughseoks

— pairing; seokjin x reader — genre; fluff, a little angst — word count; 2.4k — warnings; description of blood being drawn, needles, fainting, unedited, jin is a sweetheart — summary; you decided to donate blood for the first time, and your nurse is... really cute, to put it nicely. it’s just too bad you had to go and embarrass yourself by fainting in his arms.

➺ Wash 'n Dry by seokoloqy

➳ PAIRING: seokjin x y/n ➳ GENRE: college!au, RA!seokjin ➳ WORD COUNT: 1.1k ➳ WARNING: mentions of smut, the worst pickup line ever ➳ SUMMARY: The one where Seokjin is the cute RA who catches you doing laundry at 1 AM and you both have time to kill.

➺ Daydream by joonie-beanie

Pairing: Jin x Reader Genre: Smut Words: 8,240 Summary: Your literature professor has a bit of a...gift. A gift that let’s him see other peoples thoughts when he wants to. And despite the fact that he warns his class openly about this gift, one day you forget, and find yourself in a bit of pickle when Kim Seokjin reads your mind, and finds you imagining some not so school appropriate scenarios...involving him.

[MIN YOONGI]

{ONE-SHOTS}

➺ Friendship Over by borathae

Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader Genre: best friends to lovers!AU, Smut Summary: “You and Yoongi have been best friends for years and yet your friendship is build on perhaps the biggest misunderstanding on earth. You, totally into inexperienced guys, think that Yoongi steers away from romance because he is ace and therefore you keep quiet about your huge crush on him. While Yoongi, very eager to get sexy with you, thinks that you are only interested in experienced guys and therefore he sucks up his major crush on you. When one night, you accidentally run in on him touching himself to the thought of you, the foundation of your friendship crumbles irreparably and you are forced to make sense of the rubble.”

➺ Drabble by illegirl1

pairing: yoongi x reader Genre: established relationship!AU dad!yoongi + the pawful experience

➺ Arcades after dark by ughseoks

—pairing; yoongi x reader — genre; fluff, friends to lovers au — words count; 1.6k — warnings; none, just lots of fluff! — summary; you and yoongi had been best friends since the day you were born, nothing more. but when you sneak off to an arcade together in the middle of the night, sparks begin to fly.

➺ Bad Pranks by btsqualityy

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Genre: Established relationship, Temporary angst, fluff Warnings: The bad prank does involve faking a death and consequent discussions of death so please, don’t read this if that makes you uncomfortable. Summary: Yoongi’s reaction would be to his wife pulling a fake death prank on him.

➺ Drabble by 1rosex

Summary: Pranking him with a fake hickey Genre: Idk tbh 1% angst 99% fluff *Not smut but a lil suggestive* Pairing: Yoongi x reader

➺ Tsundere by dovechim

⇢ pairing: resident advisor! yoongi x reader, college au ⇢ word count: 11.2k ⇢ summary: according to the rumours, min yoongi is a bad apple- doesn’t take grades seriously, drinks as if he has two livers, a certified bad boy™. when you get paired up with him for a project, you’d never expect that someone like him would have a thing or two to teach you about life itself- and how it should be lived. ⇢ warnings: angst, smut

➺ Home by hyungieyoongi

Pairing: Yoongi x Lawyer!Reader Genre: Fluff (literally nothing but domestic fluff) + dad!Yoongi + married au + one teensy tiny little suggestive/flirtatious comment, but nothing crazy Word Count: 1.0K

➺ Two Pink Lines by hyungieyoongi

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Genre: Fluff + Valentine’s Day + Dad!Yoongi (more like Dad to be tee hee) + Pregnancy + Married AU Word Count: 590 this exists in the same universe as Home

➺ Never Enough by hyungieyoongi

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Genre: Fluff (literally some of the fluffiest content I have ever produced) + Dad!Yoongi + married and parent au + appearance by ot7 Word Count: 1.2K+ this exists in the same universe as Home

➺ Hiding by hobipost

pairing: yoongi x f. reader genres/tropes: established relationship; fluff; slight comedy words: 0.8k summary: Of course, the baby had to be Yoongi's son. Otherwise, why would he be a little prick? Just like his dad.

{SERIES}

➺ The Truth Between Us by Jimlingss and Gukyi

⇒ enemies to lovers au with various other au’s thrown in there ⇒ word count: 14k ⇒ genre: fluff, angst, drama ⇒ summary: a book deal should be the most exciting time of your life, but there seems to be a constant and omnipresent damper on your mood in the form of a certain min yoongi, who you would just cut out from your life, if he weren’t your editor. but then, the world shifts beneath your feet, and you begin to wonder if maybe you’ve always been looking at life from the wrong angle.

[JUNG HOSEOK]

{ONE-SHOTS}

➺ Madeleine {M} by kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Rating: 18 + (explicit sex - public, dirty talk) Word Count: 20,968 Summary: It was supposed to be a one-night thing. Just one, perfect night to remember forever. Life, it seems, has other plans.

➺ War & Peace by out-of-jams

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Word Count: 9.9k Summary ↞ “Your rivalry with Jung Hoseok first began at the tender age of five, right after you’d beamed a cardboard box of crayons straight at his forehead. He’d bled and it’d later left behind a thin scar that sliced clean through his right eyebrow. You should’ve felt guilty, but you hadn’t. Still didn’t. He’d had it coming for trying to Compel you to hand them over anyway. And technically, you did hand them over. Just not in the way he’d probably wanted. At least, that was what you’d told the teacher after Hoseok had growled wildly at you from across the playroom table. But you know what they say; all’s fair in love and war.”

➺ Stolen Sweatshirts by ughseoks

— pairing; hoseok x reader — genre; fluff — words count; 1.1k — warnings; none — summary; hobi doesn’t mind when you steal his sweatshirts-- in fact, he loves it. however, he’s steadily running out of clothes, and it’s time for you to return some of his stuff.

➺ Evergreen by ughseoks

PAIRING; hoseok x reader x taehyung GENRE/AU; hallmark au, fluff, angst, strangers to friends to lovers, businessman!tae WORD COUNT; 30.4k SUMMARY; Kim Taehyung hates Christmas, and he has no doubt that this holiday season will bring the same feelings of dread and discomfort that they always do. But when he’s forced to spend time with a couple struggling to keep their beloved Christmas tree farm business afloat, he begins to realize that money and prestige aren’t the most important things in life after all—and that a little love can go a long ways.

➺ Lover by ughseoks

— pairing; hoseok x reader — genre/rating; romance, fluff / PG — word count; 1.3k — warnings; none, unedited — summary; you discovers that hoseok is in love with you upon finding a playlist named after you on his mp3 player.

[PARK JIMIN]

{ONE-SHOTS}

➺ Cherry Flavored by ppersonna

♡ pairing- park jimin x reader ♡ word count- 10.7k ♡ genre- fluff, smut, comedy ♡ summary- when a secret admirer begins to leave messages and treats on your desk at work, your mind runs wild with 'who-dun-it's. you'll stop at nothing to determine the identity.

➺ Call me baby by hueseok

pairing: jimin x reader word count: 12.3k content: fluff | light angst | smut | college au | friends to lovers au | roommates au | fake dating au | fic is written in first person point of view !! Summary: sparked by the will to help you turn an annoying situation into your favor, jimin pretends that he's your boyfriend. but what's supposed to be a one time thing happens more than once when you get invited to a party and he has to come with you, and suddenly unknown feelings start to reveal themselves and a platonic relationship begins to get pretty awkward.

➺ Perks by drowsymochi

PAIRING: park jimin x reader GENRE: mafia au, office au ish, everything? WORD COUNT: 1.8k SUMMARY: “Working has its perks.”

➺ Laundry Mishaps {M} by hobibliophile

Pairing: RA! Jimin x reader Word Count: 3.9k Warning: Smut, oh dear god Summary: You just wanted to do some laundry, but an encounter with the RA leads to a private session in his dorm room.

➺ Distracted by parkdatjimin

pairing: idol!jimin x reader W.c: 2.5k Genre: angst and fluff Summary: where reader is pregnant but their manager told her to not tell jimin since they are having 3 months tour and doesnt want jimin to get distracted by her.

➺ Cookies (M) by clouditae

Pairing: Jimin x reader Genre: neighbors au | smut | oral | roleplay | swearing Word: 3.2k Summary: You made cookies, and it’s only fair to share it with your neighbors

➺ The Rooftop by mikrokosmoslove

Pairing: Jimin x fab! reader Genre: Smut, humiliation, dirty talk, slight degradation?, enemies to lovers. Summary: Jimin is a thorn in your side, and you hate his guts. But sometimes there's a thin line between hate and like.

➺ The Things He Did by smoljimjim

>Pairings: past bully!JJK x OC named Siri // ex-bf!PJM x Siri >Genre: slight angst, small bits of fluff >Word count: ~8900 >Description: Siri thought she did well avoiding her highschool bully, Jungkook, during her university life. Unfortunately for her, her roommate starts dating Jungkook's best friend. Now, Siri sees Jungkook more than she'd like. But is that really so bad? Has he grown up? Is he a better man? Can she forgive him for the things he did?

➺ Lover to lean on by sketchguk

➳ pairing: neighbor!jimin x florist!reader ➳ genre: neighbor AU, flower shop AU, smut, fluff, angst ➳ wc: 20k ➳ synopsis: for months, you can hear your no face neighbor and his ‘girlfriend’ singing and dancing and laughing and falling in love. above all, you can hear their bed banging against your shared wall, and they won’t ever let you sleep. you’d much rather stay up at night worrying about your own problems, like the weight of an unrequited crush, so of course you’re bitterly single. but one day, the apartment is radio silent. and one day slowly turns into one week and then into an immeasurable amount of time since you’ve heard his laugh. so on valentine’s day, when you’re missing it the most, you beg your neighbor to open up to you with cookies in one hand and two broken hearts in the other.

[KIM TAEHYUNG]

{ONE-SHOTS}

➺ Until I Found Her by spideyjimin

⏤ pairing: football/soccer player!taehyung x female reader ⏤ genre: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, angst, fluff, and smut ⏤ words: 17,145 ⏤ summary: taehyung is your best friend, he’s been part of your life for as long as you can remember. his love life is a complete chaos. there is only one girl he has truly ever loved. that girl is you. but how would things turn out when he finds out that you love him back?

➺ Consequences {M} by cupofteaguk

pairing: taehyung x fem!reader genre: hogwarts au, friends with benefits au | smut word count: 18k summary: according to Hogwarts tradition, the Head Girl is meant to serve as a role model of academic achievement, outstanding reputation, and having a honest, good, and hard-working personality. you have no trouble with that; however, you’re not too sure if (regularly) sleeping around with star Quidditch player Kim Taehyung is part of the rules.

➺ I'm Smitten by jimlingss

➜ Words: 4.1k ➜ Genres: 100% Fluff, Tsundere!AU, Police!AU ➜ Summary: You and Taehyung are hated for opposing reasons. It's not your fault that everything you say is a LIE! And it's not his fault that everything he says is the brutal truth. But what's worse is that Kim Taehyung can always see through you and he knows to twist your deception into honesties.

➺ Eight Weeks by jjungkookislife

↬ pairing: taehyung x f. reader, maknae line x reader ↬ genre: fluff, parent!au, ex-poly!au ↬ summary: Jimin and Jungkook take care of baby Eun-Ae while you and Tae struggle to leave her home to go out to lunch for the first time since she was born. ↬ wc: 1.3k

➺ Saving You by bebejungkook

‧✧̣̇‧ Pairing: Taehyung x yn ‧✧̣̇‧ Genre: Yandere au, ceo!taehyung, dilf!Taehyung. ‧✧̣̇‧ Summary: Your very over protective husband finds out you’ve been kidnapped and he was going to take the matters into his own hands. ‧✧̣̇‧ Word count: 1.7k ish

[ JEON JUNGKOOK]

{ONE-SHOTS}

➺ Drabble by hayjeon

Summary: where he and his mate have pups to take care of and they’re quite a mischievous bunch!

➺ You Make Me Begin by yukheii

genre & warnings: just another addition to the of pacifiers and patience collection; husband!jeongguk, dad!jeongguk, fluff, [gif cr.] summary: jeongguk’s learned that starting over is as simple as that, because every day with you all feels like a new beginning; or five times jeongguk learns what it means to be a father

➺ Payback Time by krreader

pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader warnings: mentions of cheating ; language genre: crack ; angst ; fluff summary: it was time to give jeongguk a taste of his own medicine.

➺ Speeding Ticket by minstrophywife

⇢Pairing: Officer!Jungkook x Business Woman!Reader ⇢Genre: PWP ↳[smuuuuut] [crack] [fluff] ⇢Word Count: 3,456 ⇢Summary: Caught speeding to get home in time, you find yourself pulled over by a very delicious cop. Perhaps you can talk your way out of the ticket. Or, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to do a cavity search ma’am.”

➺ Have a Nice Day by lookingforluna

☾Pairing: Doctor!Jungkook x Reader ☾Word Count: 2.3k ☾ Genre: smut, medical, established relationship!, doctor!au ☾Summary: With your doctor out of town you’re scheduled for a check up with a different doctor. The visit however turns into an unexpected one and you have no problem with that.

➺ It was always you by hueseok

pairing: jungkook x reader word count: 13.2k content: fluff, semi-angst, childhood friends to lovers au, pining au | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + brother’s best friend!jungkook; professor!reader + editor!reader Description: for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, Jeon Jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it's course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years. so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor. or at least, that’s what you think.

{SERIES}

➺ The Third Wheel by smoljimjim

Pairing: boyfriendJJK x OC named Siri Genre: angst with happy ending Description: What do you do when you realise you're standing in the way of your partner being with their true love? Siri is faced with this predicament, and she's not sure whether to stay with Jungkook, or let him go.

182 notes · View notes

malvoile · 5 months ago

Text

Me and the Devil ; iii

ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴘʜᴀɴᴛᴏᴍ ʙʟᴀᴅᴇ ʙᴜʀɪᴇᴅ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀɪʙꜱ. ᴘᴀᴜʟ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇɢᴜɴ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀʀʙᴏʀ ᴏᴅᴅ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ.

word count: 14.4k warnings: canon-typical threats, violence - serious bodily harm. graphic injury, blood, light smut, allusions ish to oral (f receiving), fingering, light choking, biting, very very brief dubcon (feyd warning tbh i should just call it this), unprotected PiV, fantasies, fair pulling. food sharing & mentions of hunger, discussion of alcohol, religious/cultural trauma, familiar trauma. freaky dreams, foreshadowing. fluff and some angst too - and a fair amount of politics that i made up lol notes: hiiii guys <3 a long chapter here, there's no good way to cut it up hehe - also i am sorry i didn't edit this after rewriting it so im sorry abt any typos. feedback very much appreciated! previous series masterlist

Concerns Rise Over the Destabilization of Sabberon

In the wake of the unseating of House Bourbon and the resulting power vacuum on the House’s formerly fiefed planet Sabberon, concerns are mounting over potential destabilization within the planet's region. Situated in a crucial sector of the galactic trade route, Sabberon's turmoil could have far-reaching implications, not only for orbital stability, but for the economic prosperity of the Landsraad's main trade economy.

With no governing body to maintain order, rising insurgent groups throughout the planet threaten to plunge Sabberon into chaos. The potential for conflict and upheaval remains a significant concern for the wider galactic community – yet as of today, there has been no comment by the Emperor.

This all comes to head a month before the Imperium's Annual Referendum, wherein new negotiations on Space Trade routes will be drawn, along with the final Arraignment of the House Bourbon.

- Collected Galactic News report sent to Duke Leto Atreides, 10191. Caladan.

Somewhere high upon the northern continent of the planet Sabberon, there is a trail that leads through the forest.

Past the Castle Bourbon, it winds up the slope of a mountaintop – in the short springtime, when the snow thaws and the glaciers spill their icy veins through the woods and ravines, the ground grows spongy with wild grass.

It is soft below your feet now.

The highest range of mountains tower in the distance; they dominate your sight, caps bald with such reflected sharpness that you have to squint against the rays. It is warmer in these elevations, and though the path you walk now is thawed and overgrown with alpine flora, those peaks on the horizon never lose their ice – nor the bursting jeweled-veins they hide deep within.

The sun is shy and springlike; it glows upon the skin revealed beneath your dress and glistens off dripping pine needles swaying to the ground in the breeze. Bare feet; cold, toes stained with earthy soil, and the warmth of a weight tugged within your grasped hand.

Trees rustle and whisper around you as you pass slowly, a breath echoed in the woods – branches smack against your bare arms as you near the secluded clearing ahead. It is small, though venerated; embraced by tall trees, laden with chiffon ribbons of green. Laid within your vision beneath the sinking shade is a pyre lit with candles, in offering and loomed only by the Pine which grows so high that it is swallowed by the breath of clouds high above.

The breath that falls from your lips is one of peace.

The sheet laid before the safety of the Pine is welcoming – you lie upon it, strewn with the breeze and the song of birds through the trees; overhead, the sky streaks pink and orange.

An arm brushes your own – a body lies beside you, and as your eyes flutter shut, you feel the touch trail slowly up the expanse of your side, curling around your arm to soothe the goosebumps which arise.

A pair of lips find your own, and though you see merely darkness and glimpses of glistening sky high above, the heat consumes you: Slowly and kindly.

A sigh against plush lips, hands searching for the heat of your husband, a soft breath of a chuckle against your cheek. He is bare chested; and his skin burns when he presses against your yearning palms, desiring, willing, hungry.

His own fingers trace the trail of goosebumps up your thigh and under the hem of the dress; pleasure follows in his wake as your head tilts back, a long-dormant yearning awakening at the sound of his breaths. And in the small noises you emit, a smile presses to your throat, a small hum of satisfaction from your husband above you. Though the sun is warm and orange upon your eyelids, you do not open them - far too caught in the warmth of your husband’s touch.

A grasp of the plush of your thigh – a soft thing, though intent in their own right; and you turn to receive his waiting body, a line of warmth upon your own as his touch teases over your heat. A long gasp when a warm palm finds your aching desire and teases you, light as the wind in your hair and the birds chirping in the woods.

Your lips find his once more, breath hot as his fingers press, agonizingly slow, into you; a sigh that slips towards a moan in the uptick in singing birds, the rustle of wind through whistling leaves as he hums into your mouth.

Tingling with anticipation, with desire, you clutch him – and muscles lithe and warm strain underneath your nails, his touch sliding to press against you once more, slowly moving into a rhythm that brings a gasp lodged into your throat.

A phantom tickle graces across your forehead – hair, though you’re unsure if it’s yours or his – and though he leans forward and grasps the sheet beside your head, his other hand continues its ministrations, stirring arousal from the deepest pits of your being.

In the throes of passion, you throw your head back once more, inhaling deeply in an attempt to conceal any possible hitch in control; though instead of the fresh forest, instead of your husband – you choke on the suddenly tinny air that seems to leak from the sky, which presses into your lungs even as you rock in pleasure.

A hazy thought meanders through your lapsed consciousness – your husband smells different here, upon the ground of the Sacred Pine; not like the fresh scent of sea-salt soaps and wooded forests; though the the metallic scent washes away as lips trail down your throat, nipping at your heady skin when your head falls back onto the white sheet.

Following the soft moan you let out is a shush from his lips, gentle as the breeze through the needles of the trees; Ecstasy dances through you, lighting a fire of desire that has your legs squirming to close as your husband presses them back open with the palm of his hand.

His presence is warm, eager; and consuming.

Though his hands push, bunching your dress over your hips; your eyes flutter to glance at the Pine, standing tall above you. From upside-down, it sways rather curiously, licks of heat igniting from high in the branches – and the sky is streaked in a bizarre breath, a strike of unease in your gut that is swallowed by the dip of light below ridged peaks in the distance.

Though even in the evening light, it seems as though the branches of the Pine are ablaze; and before you move to sit up, perhaps observe closer, your husband’s wanting lips slot against yours once more.

You melt into the sheet below; a warmth pressed eagerly against your own heat strikes a match within you, your eyes rolling back in pleasure before shutting in bliss. The moan that slips from your lips rings warbled in the clearing, as though fallen through a lake – and your husband nips at your kiss-bitten lips slowly.

The ridges of his spine tense as your hands slide along – and the length presses against your aching core, his lips grazing your cheek.

Wind whistles through the trees, ashy and blown. In the quiet of the forest, you whisper softly and your voice is nearly swallowed by faint screams.

“I love you.”

Barely a breath of words against his lips – and his hands tug your hair gently, exposing your neck to his wanting teeth once more. The Pine above sways again, belying a breath of orange and a scream of heat – but you blink and soon teeth are biting sharply, pain striking you through your spine.

Chuckles into the open air around you, curling in your mind as a hand slides down your side; though your words were no such thing of humour, your gaze flutters shut and lips press on in search of the more sensitive areas of your neck.

The chill breeze flutters over your bare skin, goosebumps cascading over every curve of you; though the more your husband bites down, the stronger the foreign smell grows – and in a grunt of discomfort, you shove his mouth away from your throat.

His warmth leaves you, and in an instant, his voice curls into your mind and seeps dread through you.

“I know, pet.”

A whisper - cold and sinister; you have less than a moment to shift, to scramble away from the huffing chuckle from the shadows of your vision, before it happens.

A sharp pain punctures through you.

Blood curdling – the scream you let out tears through the woods, sending a murder of crows to the sky with screams of their own; and your eyes fly open to find your husband’s eyes–

Though it is not Paul at all.

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen smiles cruelly, watching with a hunger in his eyes as he presses; The pain between your ribs is unbearable, and your hand flies in a choked gasp to cover his own, feeling the sickeningly familiar hilt protruding from you.

In terror, you look down:

A sickeningly pale hand grips your own nameday knife, the exposed part of its blade glinting in the dim light of the ceremonial candles; a lick of flames which were moments ago above you, around you, within you.

You are struck with paralyzing fear – and Feyd-Rautha’s breath is hot against you as he slowly leans down, lips cold; you feel the hilt twist just as his lips press to your forehead.

Blood seeps a slow march; over your body, it soaks into the sheet below you, tainting the ritual in crimson – and you remain in your expiring breaths, a small glowing ember carried to the hearth of forgotten gods; lied and lying, taking and taken.

“You're mine.” And his hand turns the blade deeper, glinting as you scream. “My little wife.”

Rays of sunlight pierce your vision when you jolt to life.

A haunt of touch still upon your ribs; and a face hovering before you, staring deep into your racing heartbeat. And so in your delirious panic, you lash out – a fight to get the body off of your own, your fist swings wildly in your blind haze.

Though a palm of defense catches the brunt of your offense, and you are effectively jerked aside as a gasp floats into the still dust of the room. For a moment as your heart pounds, you consider how many moves it'd take to disarm your attacker – but when you blink yourself into focus, your stomach drops.

Hestia, cheeks red as she breathes, her round eyes wide; her grip is firm, gentle around your closed fist, but her brows are knit with worry.

"My lady," Her voice is airy, eyes searching your panicked gaze, “You were only dreaming.”

It is ragged, the gasps you take – and you blink in rapid attempt to dispel the lingering tendrils of nightmare that still cling to your consciousness. Dread finds you; regret clasping your ribs in a deadly embrace.

“Void above,” You whisper, eyes pricking in regret, “I-I'm sorry,” you stammer, the weight of your actions crashing down upon you as you realize what you've done. "Are you okay? Hestia, I didn't mean to–”

Your hand is squeezed gently within her own. “It's alright,” she says, “You were frightened. I woke you while you slept. Anyone would react the same way.”

It is a lie wrapped in a gauzy layer of kindness; and guilt gnaws within you, a lump in your throat.

“I wouldn't hurt you.”

Though your tone is less than a whisper into the morning beams of light, Hestia's visage remains unwavering and calm. “I know you wouldn’t,” She promises, “And you didn't. I'm just glad you're alright.”

You are struck with relief at her words and you allow yourself a moment of breath as she takes a step away from your heaving chest to draw further the curtains across the way. The bruises and marks from your old life took several days to fade after your arrival on Caladan; though she, nor the other maids, ever said a thing, let alone stared too long when you’d slipped a tunic over the jagged scar across your ribs each morning– nor when they offered the makeup in the tone of your skin to cover the odd-shaped marks upon your neck of fading teeth – nor when they helped you pull the mourning veil over your face.

You’ve grown quite fond of them all. Particularly Hestia, in her tenderness and willful amiability; it occurs to you slowly as you watch her gather your clothing that you never found this kind of humanity on Giedi Prime.

And even after you and Hestia finish your breakfast, she doesn't ask about the dream; And you don't tell her.

It is certainly not the first of these dreams you've had – such a place has haunted you nearly every night since you begun dreaming again in the wake of the poisonous sun; Those mountains, the hills, the pathway to the open clearing: Each night, it calls to you, singing a song you cannot hear.

But never, not until now, has there been a man with you.

Never has Paul, nor Feyd-Rautha, found you in those dreams.

A sharp pain still clings to your breaths – and still lingers that phantom blade, stuck through your ribs; haunted in the shadows by the cold stare of the man you were once promised to forever.

A haunting thing, to near such a pleasant dream – only to be ripped from it by the ghost of shadows; and you reel anyways in shame from the beginning of the dream – fading at the tips of your fingers, such a warm and hungry thing it’d started out as…

Paul, your mind reminds you as you swallow the unease in your stomach, it was Paul who was with you in the beginning.

An odd ritual it’d been – one that felt faint yet familiar, as though some ghost long dead had whispered such things to you in your sleep; and you shake off the dusty robes of the past in search of the present, a more tangible and decidedly less salacious thing.

Dressing is a solemn affair this morning.

It is slow that you drape yourself in the fineries of a life far left behind; cloth made from the veins of plants alpine and far away – they smell of the ocean now, and you watch the pines in the distant western forest bristle in the breeze. It is not until Hestia brings forth the gifted necklace that you hesitate.

It glints in the morning rays – precious stone carving the hawk and sigil, a soft thing, but cut sharp with the cerulean green valleys and ridges of the jewel; and though Hestia is slow as a hunter to a startled doe, you still stiffen when he moves to lace it around your neck.

She's not unused to this; it's been half a week since it was given to you, and each day you have bared your teeth as she clasps it around your neck – though still, beneath the veil, holding the skin above your heart captive, you wear it.

She is beside you, now, and it is not hard for her to tell where your mind’s gone.

“You said he apologized?” She asks it tentatively, as though you might slit her throat at the mere mention of Paul; though instead you merely huff a humourless laugh. “He did,” You affirm, “Though only after I told his parents.”

Your agony is received; you sigh once more, “I acted like a child. Perhaps I was in the right, but nevertheless–” You glance out towards the glinting forest and moors beyond, clenching your jaw at the memory of Paul’s sharp eyes and accusatory tongue. “He must hate me more now.”

The necklace is clasped over your clavicle, and you can feel the incredulous look Hestia sends you; though you merely press your lips, admiring the pendant against your skin in the morning light of the mirror. It does well suit you, much to your chagrin; a fine piece as ever to hold above your head.

Power always seems so beautiful in the morning light.

She says your name gently, whispering into the empty bedroom, “He gifted you a family heirloom – look at it! It must be older than the two of us combined.”

And her irreproachability is as charming as it is unnatural – it is still an adjustment, to take in her joyous nature, the curve of a smile so genuine and spirited. It is still an adjustment, then, to see people so human and to try to return some semblance of that humanity in gratitude; and though she is lighthearted, it does not quell your distress.

Your teeth worry into your bottom lip as you hum gently, shrugging, though you wish to simply melt into the girlish giddiness that leaks from her and infects the corner of your smile.

“It's not so simple”

Your eyes cast down, where your bare feet stand against the floor – and for a blink, beneath them lies wild grass, a white sheet; a seep of crimson leaks through the pristine fabric and you snap away, taking a step back and staring skittishly at Hestia. “I think he’d prefer for me to remember who now holds my reins.”

And if anything, it is a relief to be able to speak so candidly with someone; a trust, knowing it will not leak from your lips through her own and into the ear of the Duke – or his son.

“Or, it's his way of trying to welcome you into House Atreides?” She suggests with a lifted brow, and the indignant part of you bristles as she continues, “He does not mean ill will, I promise. He's... slow to trust.”

You turn, figure shrouded in the morning light’s beams through your large windows. Your brow lifts, your tone teasing; A foreign thing – one that, out of rusty exercise, delivers more accusatory than intended. “You seem to know Lord Paul quite well, Hestia.”

And, as expected, she flushes red; you hide your smirk in the palm of your hand as she shakes her head, eager to dispel any perceived accusations.

“N-nothing like that, my lady –" And it is rather frantically she rushes to assure you, "My mother is Lady Jessica’s in-waiting,” She explains quickly, fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of your blouse, “And Paul is only a few years older than I - and though I am just a worker, he and I were reared very close.”

You’d figured as such; though she speaks highly of him, there indeed has been no inkling of affection held more than anything platonic in her musings. Though, if there had been, perhaps a part of you could not blame her; for visions of a youthful teen, curly hair and a sharp laugh, green eyes that swim with light and pool with the gentle fountain of dutiful intelligence. Perhaps he is someone you do not know; that odd feeling, that light when you know only a stranger’s shadow – just as you might be to him; his green ghost that haunts these halls.

You nod gently with a smile that grows in Hestia’s melting embarrassment – and she notices not a few moments after you crack.

A smile blossoms and it brings warmth into your sullen heart. “You tease me,” She observes with a small grin of her own.

You laugh only quietly, shaking your head, “I apologize, I couldn’t help it.” You admit, pacing away from the window to gather the garment from her arms.

“So you’ve known Paul for your whole life?” You wonder, unable to bite back the intrigue which laps at the shores of your mind.

And then comes a sweet kind of existence, one which lives in the early hours between the sun’s rising and the castle’s; Hestia nods, setting to work on your sheets, straightening them as you begin to dress yourself. “I've got no siblings of my own,” She muses lightly, “Though I imagine he is exactly what a brother should be.”

A memory is sharp in the bruise of your heart, and you blink back the vision of the boy falling to the sand, fingers grasping a blade too large for his palm. The numb ache crawls in an eclipse of your pleasant mood and you fight it with a blink.

There is a chip in the boudoir beside you; it glistens against the waxy shine of the sun. Hestia’s warmth, that song of unburdened amity, lulls the dull ache of your heart into a placant thrum.

“– Kind, thoughtful. He entertains the most foolish subjects and also the most serious –” A pause and a rustle, as if she’s turned to glance at you – you do not return the stare, mind too lost in the Paul that Hestia knows; the Paul you have yet to meet.

“And, if you’d believe it…” She says it almost conspiratorially, arriving to button the back of your tunic, as you turn from her, listening quietly, “he can be quite funny sometimes."

Funny. You send her a look; this time there is no fooling – she laughs gently at your doubt and nods, “Believe it or don’t,” she muses, “He is good. He will warm up to you.”

And though she says it in good nature, there is a dejection which leaks into your heart, which pools around the memories of sharp tongue and mistrusting eyes – of a short apology and a pendant wrapped around your throat, binding your wrists.

Instead you force a smile, hoping it appears more brilliant than you feel.

She is a sweet girl – a girl not familiar with the burden of family, of how it falls at your feet in a slump of black and pale and gray and death – and so you imagine her as a young girl, hand-in-hand with a young Paul, skipping down hallways and whispering conspiratorial through the doors of the worker’s quarters.

A melancholia visits you quite suddenly, and your eyes drift to the cobwebs of silk which spin small patterns across the high beams of your ceiling.

“I always seemed to fight with my siblings.” Your voice is a whisper in a breath; what a distant dream it is now, those nights curled together by the grand hearth, the days running through ornate halls, learning to hunt in the woods. Bows pulled from hair and tied into your own – a hand smaller than yours tugging you into an icy lake – screaming, crying, the thud of young limbs hitting another. Anger, that ferocious thing that is only so well known by that of your own kin; A hard thing it is to remember, when their faces have begun to slip away.

“I had four of them,” You offer to her – and though she knows just as well as each person within the Imperium knows now of your family and their end, you feel the comfort of choice; the warmth of choosing to reveal such information about your family to a lended ear. Your brows knit – there is a nest of brown twigs and dried mud just below your window. “And we would scream, and hit, and fight, – all the time, when we were young.” A gaggle of young chickadees vie for the worm in their mother’s mouth within the small nest, and you watch on with burning eyelids. Your breath is solemn, and your fingers trace over the healing scars upon your palm. “But they were my favorite people in this entire universe.”

It is still in the somber moment, though you break your shell with a cleared throat, tearing your eyes from the soft burgeoning feathers of the chicklets in the nest. And after a deep inhale, you smile wistfully, clearing your throat as you slide on the hand jewelry she offers to you; Hestia doesn't say anything, and you're grateful for it.

She lingers beside you as you slide rings over healed knuckles. Your voice comes once more, and it is stronger. “Family, blood or bond, is a precious thing,” you decide, turning to slip on your shoes and tie your trousers. “I am quite glad you and your mother have found it.”

And though there lingers some despondent hesitation, Hestia nods in agreement, her own wistful smile playing on her lips. “Indeed, my lady.”

Your hair catches the rays of sun in the mirror before you – tainted with the leaking green of your veil, you place the ferronnière above it; and you are beautiful in this light, yes – beautiful, but miserable. A dog with a collar for the Atreides leash.

Your gaze leaves yourself to find Hestia watching with a small smile.

An offer of her arm and a small nod brings forth a balm to the stinging hesitance of leaving your room.

“Now, let's get you to this War Council.”

Paul’s sigh is sharp in the empty room.

An aseptic scent pierces his nostrils, contaminating his brain – distracting him. The castle becomes very sterile, deep in the more secluded chambers; here, where he breathes and feels the world breathe too, the air has a chill to it – sharp with some kind of disinfectant.

“Concentrate, Paul.”

His mother’s voice is low, though soothing. “Project your will.”

But he can’t bring himself to look up – his mother stands just a few paces away, her eyes boring into him; Focus. He needs to focus.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he hums gently, a twitch of focus in the crook of his neck; but then, flames flicker up the sides of his vision – a large tree, smoke leaking from somewhere above where it pierces through the clouds. His name, sighed gentle as the breeze through the trees, trickling into his mind; hands, threading through the curls at the nape of his neck. His nostrils flare as he shakes his head, letting out a small groan of irritation. Focus.

Within him, an energy builds; something comes, and he knows he must not lose it – but as he begins to speak, a strange sense of trepidation washes over his mind; a nagging suspicion of unease, some dripping chill down the bumps of his spine. He falters in his words for a moment, confidence waning as doubts creep through the cracks in the shadows.

It's silent for a moment, before she sighs from across the room.

“You’re distracted this morning, Paul.”

He bites back a sharp I know – and instead sighs, a sagging weight in his shoulders as he pushes his hair back with the heel of a palm. “I didn’t sleep well.” He excuses, pacing towards the water pitcher; his mother follows, reaching for the glass he offers. She hums, sipping on the water as he stares into the reflection of his own.

“Dreams?”

She reads him so well.

Paul wills his spine not to tense at her words. With a half a breath, Paul takes another sip of his water – a purchase of time, perhaps. There is a giving degree to which he understands the Bene Gesserit’s plans, and how perhaps he might fall into them; this alone is cause for hesitation. Those years ago – almost two, now – the searing, bone-gnawing pain of that box; the whispers around closed doors, the breath that plumed when the Reverend Mother told his own lady mother that there were two candidates.

Two candidates – for what, he still doesn't know – and yet Paul may one day be one of them. It is an instinct, perhaps some method of survival written into his very DNA; he accepts the churning sick in his stomach at the thought of what his onslaught of dreams mean.

“Yes,” he acquiesces – any possible lie he could have thought to fabricate would have been sheared by the blades of her mind, anyway – and he turns to her, guarded but concerned. She is his mother, after all.

“I've been having dreams,” his voice is slow to regain traction – there is a small scuff on the floor and he traces it with his toe. “Vivid dreams…” He murmurs, chewing upon the skin of his lip, “of Sabberon.”

And perhaps to an untrained eye, there would be no change; But Paul's eyes are indeed quite trained.

A flicker of concern passes through her and it serves nothing but to feed the pit of anxiety that grows in Paul’s stomach.

“Sabberon?” She echoes with a wary tilt of the head, “And what do you see in these dreams?”

The hesitation comes once more, although the memory is still fresh in his mind: For in the beginning, it is that spongy earth, toes imbued with dirt. Soft whispers of his name from voices he cannot see, a caress of the wind in his hair, the glistening mountain peaks that glitter like jewels in the distance, the ribbons tied to trunks and candles lit unyielding even when the sky falls.

And then there is you; a soft thing, an inevitable one – with the soft skin of your thighs trembling in the wake of his wanting lips. There’s the sigh, hitched and breathy, as his hands hold your hips to the pristine sheet below you; the bunching of a dress, the glint of a blade's silvered and black hilt almost golden in the reddening sun.

Your gown, thin and blowing in the breeze, the same color as the veil which still hides your face from his wanting gaze; even in the dying light, the streaks of orange and pink in the sky, snow falling weightless from dark clouds above. That fabric, woven from the skin of alpine hemp which grows in clusters around your planet – bunching by your hips, your chest tremoring in the flickering light of ceremonial candles; breath, warm and willing upon his neck – palms teasing and eager alike, crawling in descent towards his own waistband. A soft moan, the smell of ash –

Paul is drawn back from the glimpses of skin and the flashes of metal, the smell of smoke; he swallows thickly, staring at his mother with the glance of a lamb before the jaws of a wolf – though he shifts, clearing his throat, and the veil lifts.

“I always…” He chooses carefully the truths he can forgive, “I always see a white blanket on the ground. Above, there’s a… the Great Pine of Sabberon. Visions of…” His brows furrow, swallowing the thick of concern, “of knives, and streaks through the sky; I think they’re… missiles. And we’re there together…she and I.”

Barely a blink from his mother as she murmurs, “Lady Bourbon?”

He barely nods, blinking away visions of shining hands and whispers threading through pine needles in the wind.

“I don’t know why it’s always the same dream,” He pleads to his mother – tell me it’s fine – and though his voice is barely audible, he cannot shake the calling for him, that odd feeling that something importing awaits him on Sabberon. “Maybe I've been reading about Sabberon too much,” He half-shrugs.

And it is a relief to admit it finally to someone – since your arrival, perhaps even in the days leading up to it, he’s unsure; but his dreams have ebbed and flowed in the brook of consciousness, always floating back to that place. Always there, and now, with you – and after the lessons the other day, he is sure: it's Sabberon.

He dreams of it burning; he sees it up in flames, and sometimes, you with it.

His mother does little to quell the concern that brims in his gaze – though she sets down her glass and kisses his brow. “Be cautious with your dreams, Paul,” She chides, “Listen to them, learn from them.”

Her gaze brings no such comfort to him as he watches her gaze flick from the cliffs through the casement and back to him.

“Dreams are messages from the deep.”

Though it is only late morning, the Strategy Council finds you quite weary.

You sit, toying with your fingers as you drown in a sea of House Atreides; and once again, the only solace in the room is your blade, laid in front of you on the table for all to see. Certainly a warning, this time.

Nearly everybody you've met of importance during your sojourn is in attendance – the table is large and long, so much so that you know you will have to project your voice to be heard by the dredges of your periphery; and around you sit war masters, strategists, women and men with intense stares and the symbol of house Atreides upon their clothing.

It is a fight, after Duke Leto sets a brief introduction, to not sound too sharp nor calculating; your gaze skitters over the listeners as you speak, their eyes interested, respectful – it is a shock to your body as you trail off, aware of the respect that brims in the quiet of the room.

But worse still is the fight to stifle your yawn as the Duke reviews intelligence reports; Gritting your teeth, you sit up straighter – through no hitch of boredom but instead the dreadful absence of rest, now is perhaps the worst time for your body to punish your mind for your lack of sleep.

And beside the Duke this time rests a chilling gaze, one you’ve yet to meet in such a scenario – Paul rests with a straight spine and a stare hooked upon the pendant hanging from your neck, and you fight not to stir with the heat of the green boring through your veil.

Until now, there's lived a cold silence between the two of you that has not been broken since it befell; that night when you were gifted the necklace – and besides the stiff apology he issued you the morning after, assuring you he was out of line for treating you with disrespect in his father’s study that morning – all that’s grown between you and your betrothed are cordial nods or a tight-lipped smile from him in passing, whenever a house member is around. Nothing more would dare be said between you, lest you pull a blade to his throat.

If you'd been less indulged in your studies and training – or perhaps he, less prideful – maybe it would not have gone on this long; a stalemate as stubborn as its proprietors.

But seeing as you've barely been in the same room once since that dreadful dinner several days ago, it's no different. You aren’t to be wed until the end of this year, but you know sometime soon, you will have to learn to live with him.

Paul does not notice your attention on him for some time as the strategy council rolls on; He is seemingly in his own world, gazing intently at the necklace in a way that gives you a rush of unease – and you, drawn into the world of dreamlike memory: Of hands smooth against skin, of soft breath upon your cheek, of curls tickling your forehead.

But it’s as if a shock hits him – and suddenly, a green stare finds your own; and though it is near impossible to discern your face unless mere inches away, Paul never fails to find your eyes behind the veil.

In his stare, your mind convulses; brought forth unbidden and unsolicited, you see them: Curls that kiss your forehead, lips plush and pressed to your neck – a hand snaking up the bareness of your thigh.

You swallow thickly, shifting in your seat; you’ve grown quite used to the demons which sleep in your mind – of Feyd-Rautha’s shadows curling to grasp your mind when your eyes shut – yet this strange thing, this new thing?

Now, you're flushing each time you catch your husband-to-be's eyes – like some innocent girl, lovestruck and awake to be put in a corner; catching those very same eyes which regard you as a pawn on the chessboard of his House, no less.

And yes – there is not a part of you so vain as to lie and say Paul is not extremely attractive. A creature made of dark curls, sharp angles, plush lips, that cooled, smooth voice; anybody worth their wits could see his allure – but even just this innocent observation rings forth a violent urge of resistance. An urge, to rip off the necklace; to scream at him, at the Imperium – I am not yours to keep.

Though, before you can do much of anything, his gaze is gone from you; Paul breaks the turmoil in your mind with a simple turn of his head.

Begrudgingly, you try to do the same.

Though it yields nothing but more trouble: Your eyelids droop as you fight to stare at the Duke, who speaks in what you can only perceive as background noise as your mind soldiers on against your own will.

“Lady Bourbon?”

And with that, your eyes snap up, heart suddenly beating hard under the alarmingly paternal gaze of Duke Leto; In fact, through the silence, you observe that every eye is on you expectantly, including Paul’s.

It is with ignorance of the concerned look etched upon his countenance that you snap out of your reverie, embarrassment flooding you; Paul's green eyes bore into you even when you turn to address the Duke.

“Apologies, Duke Leto,” you clear your throat, willing your cheeks to stop flushing from the attention, “I've been having trouble sleeping lately. I've been having some…” You reluctantly admit the burdens of your mind, “…odd dreams. They've been keeping me awake at night.”

After a beat, you stir, “Could you please repeat yourself?” You wonder with a flushed face and twisting fingers – but there is a quick glance sent from Lady Jessica to her son and your attention is stolen.

Paul’s own gaze meets his mothers and then casts suddenly downwards, as if deep within his own mind; and it is clear – whatever she delivers within her gaze, he is clearly avoiding – though there is little pause from the rest of the council, and you soon forget the look shared between mother and son.

From down the table, Thufir Hawat denotes a remedy in the form of an elixir you can take before sleep that should help you; the Duke orders a worker to have it brought to your quarters this evening, and in the expiring embarrassment of your slip-up, your mind rocks from its pulling descent to slumber.

You’re painfully alert after this, and when you are finally called upon to share your thoughts, it is by Gurney Halleck: “My lady, you’ve before mentioned certain endeavors during your time on Giedi Prime.”

You nod and he takes the affirmation with a nod of his own, “What do you know of their Spice exploits?”

And eyes once again fall to you from across the room; in a ticking of your jaw, you wish once more to rid yourself of the cursed veil that constricts your vision. Your spine straightens at the question and you choose your words quite carefully. “I do not know much of their spice harvesting,” you begin, “and it must be said that what I know is mostly second-hand; I learned most of what I know through the na-baron Feyd-Rautha.”

A murmur from the end of the table, one you are quick to squash with a withering look behind the veil: “He is vicious,” You affirm, folding your hands, “but he has his own weaknesses, ones which the other Harkonnens lack.” And though the implications of your words settle in unease around the room – the Lady Jessica’s head turns to you just slightly – you do not drop the Duke’s stare. “I might remind you all that Spice is not their only source of power.”

And in the wash of a renewed power – eyes are hooked upon your cloaked figure, on how the words drip from a mouth so concealed. “They have large petroleum reserves – from refineries around the planet, stored in the bowels of Barony; I've seen them, they're never-ending."

This makes the duke shift in his seat; likewise, Paul's brows furrow in thought.

Your voice is a beam through a forested canopy of pine and spruce, bursting forth into the sterile room; A perk of interest that bristles through the icy surface of a sleeping scape. “It is true, I was not an agent for my family; though from what I’ve been able to piece together, my family was recording Harkonnen reserves, and monitoring their activity with the Spacing Guild.” Your voice hangs, words heavy with implication. You swallow down the worry that gnaws in you before you continue. “Not just for spice, but petroleum. I was none the wiser until after they were caught.” You spare a glance to Paul, meeting his stare with your own. “–But of course, who is to believe me?”

Paul’s gaze is promptly cast away, written with some flash of guilt; and you continue once more. “I assumed it is is why the Great Houses likely allowed for me to be brought to Caladan – in hopes that I know something of my family’s findings.”

Your eyes fall to Duke Leto. “Am I right, my Lord?” You wonder; the room is quiet as your words are absorbed, a rainbow of faces all varying degrees of surprise.

Duke Leto is an honest man. “Yes,” he affirms, “It is one of the reasons I believe the Landraad passed the ordinance for your betrothal to be transitioned.”

The knowledge does not do much to ease your worry – indeed, just some figure of strategy in a game above your head.

His words are not unkind, though: “We've been concerned with any acts of retaliation to our house after this ruling, and though it hasn't come yet, we need to be prepared. We must know what you know, my lady.”

You press your fingers along the blade before you as you nod. “When the betrothal was annulled, they were distraught,” you admit with an open air, catching the guarded surprise of several glances. It is mirthful, the small smirk that sneaks onto your lips as you take in their expressions. “Not for some attachment to me, mind you,” You ease them, “Feyd-Rautha was the worst of them when it came to the dissolution of our engagement – but the truth is…” you offer a half-shrug, shaking your head in some bitter mirth. “Harkonnens don’t like when their toys are taken away from them.”

It is just as uncomfortable as ever; Paul’s stare is focused down, upon the grain of wood below your fingers, and you do not flinch at the set in his jaw. In the silence, you push forward, “Thufir has been tutoring me on local economics,” You nod to the man down the table, “I understand that the majority of the trading exports from Caladan are agriculture – fine wine and rice?”

Paul’s voice comes from the depths. “Yes,” he confirms; and you nod, the chain of your headdress chiming slightly as you hold his stare. You wet your lips, “The Baron could easily flood the galactic market with cheap petroleum, garnering almost no externalities for himself.” You tilt your head, “An influx of cheap fuel like that could disrupt the transportation networks – the market for space transport and exportation would be saturated by the Harkonnens within days.”

Sparse glances of thought and furrowed brows across the table – and after a moment, you hear the thought that has lingered in your mind since the moment you saw the refineries’ stock at Barony.

“An action like this would highly disrupt our direct trade access from this system to most others without use of the Spacing Guild.” Thufir adds – the Duke still looks at you, urging you to continue. You do.

“What I fear,” You crack your knuckles gently, knee bouncing just slightly under the table, “Is the vacuum that’s been left on Sabberon. There is no governing body now that my family has been eliminated.” It is a blunt, unemotional statement, and you move past it before the ghosts which linger in the corners of your heart come out of the shadows. “If Harkonnen boots hit the ground there, they could rather easily take control of the planet's resources and exports. Their battalions could easily squash the insurgent groups in the North and South.”

A nod, a sparse murmur – and then, a woman a few seats down from you leans forward to catch your gaze. “Sabberon's industries are commercial fishing, fir, logging.”

Hardly much to worry about, you know – and you turn, nodding. “Yes, they are – but I more mean the glacial deposits within our mountain ranges.” You purse your lips, a secret kept in the confines of Castle Bourbon tilting from your lips. “The highest ranges contain precious minerals and ores whose compounds are quite valuable for industrial applications. It’s how we industrialized so quick in the Turning Age.” You wish to avoid any history lessons – but it is important; and you clear your throat as you set down the pneumatic tubes you'd prepared before the council.

“I've documented, to the best of my ability, everything that I remember here. Feyd-Rautha knows about the deposits on Sabberon; I believe it is fair to assume the Baron does, too.”

It is in the lull of the moment, heavy and steeping with thought, that his face comes to you – and a sickly hand around your neck, a black smile: You're mine to keep. There's plenty of life left for you to serve.

In a blink, you’re back to the grain of the table, tracing along it with your nail. Paul leans forward, brows furrowed. “If the region of Sabberon is destabilized – controlled by Harkonnens or in civil conflict – we could lose almost all of our exports. It’s a crucial line of trade in the system for us.” He echoes your concern, “Giving them access to the resources is dangerous enough, but a near-monopoly on petroleum, Spice, and the Space Trade Route?”

There is a spark of intrigue at the sharp point of his intelligence – but nonetheless, you merely nod in agreement, pushing away any such girlish thoughts in sacrifice of the matter at hand.

Gurney Halleck’s voice cuts through your observation of Paul’s hair against the light: “We need to consider this carefully. If the Harkonnens make a move to Sabberon, we must be ready to respond. But acting first could have larger consequences.”

Duke Leto nods; with a glance to the War Master and back to the others. “Halleck's right. The Referendum is soon – the Landsraad will be redrawing the Trade negotiations then,” His gaze flickers to you, “–and your arraignment is set for the same congress. It seems the best option is to wait.”

Dread fills you; stuck between a rock and a hard place, you’re left with nothing to do but wait – wait for the impending trade drawings, for the impending arraignment. You’re no fool – the arraignment might leave you with no inheritance, no claim to Sabberon. Your gut coils in anxiety, and it is not soothed by the urgent sense that curbs the meeting: plans are drawn out to set more strategy meetings before the Referendum; you are requested to attend them.

Fear clubs up the ridges of your spine with each nod you give to passersby – and a panic pulls your eyelids to droop, your brain aching for rest.

By the time you return to your chambers, you are much too exhausted to seek lunch.

Instead, you are asleep within minutes.

Your name calls to you.

A hum in response as you thread your fingers through locks of curls; in the distance, birds sing. The sun drags streaks flying across the sky in its descent, and flakes flutter gently around you – though it smells not of snowfall. A bonfire crackles somewhere, you can smell the heady cedar embers, see the flames in your blinks.

Your hair is tugged; in a huff of laughter, you tug the tresses laced between your own fingers – but in another surprising jolt, you’re tugged again and you gasp, catching the flicker in green eyes. “That hurt,” Your floating voice chides, though there is no malice – your words are faint and dancing around the falling flakes – a warm palm grasps your jaw to tilt your head up.

“I'm very sorry,” he does not even trying to cover the lie, smiling against the dying sun. “Let me ease the pain,” He whispers, gentle and teasing against your jaw. A faint chuckle when he nips down your exposed neck and you breathe out; His hands are quite daring, slipping your dress over your head until you're bare against the sheet, blinking up warmly at the forest. The breeze of springtime is chill and disarming against your flesh; birds sing. His fingers trace you slowly.

And there is nothing but arousal snaking through you as he sinks lower, lips painting a path back up your thighs, nipping gently at your soft skin; A swat to the top of his head, and a short noise of protest from him in response as you bite back a smile.

“Paul,” you whisper, and it disappears through the trees as if off to find some other world. He hums in a teasing lilt, vibrations rippling from his lips to your warm skin, sending a cascade of goosebumps through you.

“Come back to me,” you whisper – and he listens, though he usually doesn't; His lips are replaced by his hips and soon, after a small roll, a gentle moan leaks from your lips. It is still slightly cold in the death of spring, but his skin is warm; His lips are warm.

“I'm here, aren't I?" His eyes are upon yours, and your stomach flutters, “I'm always here.”

And when he slides into you slowly, his lashes tangle in a kiss of deep brown – and your head tilts back against the sheet, his hand hitting the trunk of the Pine above your head, grasping with a thud; a long whimper is swallowed by his lips, consumed by his warmth, by the deep sensation that sends your back to arch.

And any semblance of chivalry dissipates as Paul begins to move; A palm gliding up from your hip, sliding over your breasts, pinching a pert nipple before rising – and you with a clutch upon his shoulders, grasping the warm skin and revelling in the sweet relief of pleasure. Fingers glide over your heaving chest as hips slide into your own – you’re pushed down against the earthy floor in ecstasy, and his grasp finds it suddenly–

A finger traces over the emblem clasped around your throat: A hawk, cerulean and shining, over your sweat-sheened, thundering chest.

And before any such disdain can leak from lips so wanting of affection, he’s pulling with a startling force – the necklace breaks under Paul’s grasp and falls apart, stones and pearls rolling over your bare chest and pooling onto the sheet below you.

And it’s a thing of pleasure, the way your hand snakes to press his grasp to your thundering heart; the pendant is thrown far behind you as Paul’s desperation leaks through.

A groan from his lips as his hand squeezes over your neck just lightly, your own grasping it in a shocking pleasure – it is unlike any sensation you’ve yet experienced, and soon pours his breaths and groans like a river of desire broken for you. A whispered phrase, over and over, spilling from your lips and his alike – lulling you into a state of euphoria as his body rocks with yours, breathing to the earth and feeling it breathe back.

Hands grasp skin tight and desperate – your nails find the line of his smooth back, clutching to the lithe muscles that move with his hips; and he, tracing each curve of your face and neck with his lips, gasping as the flakes that fall around you begin to burn as embers. Smoke lingers somewhere far off; though you are with your husband and you cling to him, whispering that same phrase over, and over – a jolted gasp of pleasure – and once more; over, and over, and over –

“I'm yours.”

Something rouses you from sleep, much quicker this time, and you wake with a start.

Broad daylight streams through your chamber windows when your eyes open, your heart thundering as you shift on the sheets; A blurry form comes into view, fluffing the untouched pillow beside you on the bed. You do not strike this time, instead swarmed with shame and embarrassment in the wake of such tangible dreams.

“Bad dream again?” Hestia she sets down a fresh set of clothing; you swallow and wince at your dry throat, heart thudding. Bad dream... You can feel your face flood with embarrassment – you'd rather be caught dead than admit what you'd just dreamt, so instead you push your hair from your face, fanning your cheeks.

“Yes.” You croak, accepting the glass of water she offers you, “I did not mean to fall asleep.”

The sheets are warm and your spine is lined with sweat; you slide out of your bed with the elegance of a newborn mare, eyes flicking around.

The sky is sunny, not a single rain cloud; and your chambers are heavy, tight.

“I need some fresh air.”

Paul’s shadow dances across the wild grass as the midday sun follows his steps.

The breeze is much more permanent down by the shore; he brushes stray curls from his eyes, tracing the shoreline below with a lingering absence; It's only a few hours until he should be back in the strategy chambers with his father, helping draw plans for the upcoming Referendum – but the castle has grown stuffy and sterile at the same time, and his stomach growls in hunger. He needs some fresh air.

Though the sea mists his cheeks, his mind is stuck high above him, spinning in the memory of the Strategy Council meeting. Paul would be struck dead a liar if he were to say you were not one of the most intelligent women he’s met; and after this morning, there is truly nothing much else he has been able to think of – and despite himself, the growing bud of admiration sprouts within his mind, even despite your predisposition to violence and solitude.

Paul almost feels foolish for how blinded he was – if war is really on the horizon, he supposes it’s very lucky that House Atreides took you in; If not for your capabilities and sharp intellect, then for your claim to Sabberon, for your connections with the Ginaz and their Swordsmen; for your intimate knowledge of Harkonnen power.

It’s now as important as ever that Paul ensures you remain on the Atreides’ side, should this war come – a burden to hold you should you somehow wish to return to the black embrace of Giedi Prime, but one he will have to keep. Because you are too valuable to his House to let you go over trivial things; Politics is all two way streets; you will help them with your insights and they will protect you. And with this, perhaps, comes the truth – that Paul has begun to learn of you, of the you that shines through any small cracks in the armor.

And over the meadow he walks, he sees that lush green forest again; a woodpecker against bark, your hands sliding into his own as you lean him back against the trunk of a tree – the smell of smoke, an explosion on the horizon; laughter swallowed by the wind, lips pressed to parted lips.

Paul sighs harshly.

He's not sure if it was the correct decision to tell his mother about these dreams, instead of his father; skepticism is a biting friend as his feet trudge over the cliff and down, closer to the beach.

Paul loves his mother, but he is indeed not naive to the manipulative nature of the Bene Gesserit; in some dreadful way, he wonders once more which silent partners in the Imperium influenced the decision for the Houses to order his betrothal to you.

A small whisper in the back of his mind, that sickly voice of the Reverend Mother those years ago: Two candidates... Paul may one day be one of them–

The skittering of a rabbit through the grass calls his attention to the path, his jaw clenched tight.

The wind is swallowed by the structure under which he ducks; It is a small alcove – one of many below the cliffs which hold a cluster of tidepools, small and large. And this particular one catches his eye, just on the left – a soft smile grows upon weary lips.

When he was younger, he often played in these very alcoves with the few other children his age in the castle; swimming, playing hide-and-seek, sparring with wooden daggers.

His feet take him into the alcove without any hesitation – the rock grows slick with seawater and the scent of the brackish pools; it isn't until he's into the shade that he sees the figure seated among the pools.

You wear the same clothing you'd donned at the Strategy Council, your feet bare and dipped into the shallow waters.

For a moment, he considers turning back to his path towards the beach; but your back grows rigid as you turn to him, and he’s struck with a breath of beauty blowing in the breeze of your veil.

A thick silence; a silence lived between you, lodged like an unwanted burden – it has been some time since you were last alone. A memory of his shaking hands, the bite in your words as you’d clasped that pendant to your chest - of that sheer veil, of your glistening gaze across the table.

It is time to leave such hesitancy behind; and so with a tentative swallow, Paul takes a few steps closer.

“I hadn't expected to find you here,” An honest and neutral observation.

Somewhere beyond that gauzy veil, you stare back at him; and your fingers twitch towards the blade upon your hip before curling once more into a soft fist, cradled in a palm. “Nor I you,” you reply coolly – and in the uneasy silence, Paul sacrifices his pride and endures the agony of discontent.

He does not ask if you mind if he joins you – he knows that you would; so instead he sits gently, leaving a wide berth of space between you.

And while you bristle at his arrival, stiffening as he sits across from you and drops the bag from his back beside him, he cannot bring himself to blame you.

It is a peculiar posture you give; a cradling of your hand as you watch the ripples in the tide pool that he slowly dips his feet into – it is soon that he recognizes the gives of pain from your figure. And that very agony it is almost palpable in your silence as he looks down at where you rub the skin of your hand, swollen and red.

“I assume you met the crabs.”

And the headdress of metal jewelry that adorns the crown of your forehead chimes when you turn to watch him, surprise laced into your posture.

“I did.”

Your affirmation is punctuated by an unfurling of your palm, revealing blistered, irritated skin; He winces more for your own sake than in true surprise before letting his eyes roam gently over the near landscape – moss grows in clumps throughout the rocky pools, though he searches for that short, stalky root which grows just outside the reach of the water.

And after spotting one beside you, he reaches; you flinch, though he pays no mind to the hitch in your breath as he gives the stalk a quick tug – and the plant is ripped out, roots and all.

He hands you the root of the stalk, gesturing for you to take it: “You can use this plant.”

And in your evergreen poise, you grasp the root hesitantly, as if sensing a trap. It dangles limp from your grasp, earthy as the gems upon your jewelry – and you return to your statued posture, watching him, faceless and green as the moss around you.

He nods after a moment of awkward breath, gesturing to the stalk. “Chew it.”

You do nothing but breathe at him for a moment – and perhaps if he could see your eyes, he’s sure he would find disbelief; Skepticism. And perhaps if it were any other time, any other person, he’d laugh at the silent incredulity that leaks between you.

He shifts, feet circling in the pool of water. “It soothes the itch and the pain. You chew it, and spit it onto your palm.” Patience is lost when you do not respond – and perhaps out of the growing blush on his cheeks in your refusal to act, he sighs sharply, “It's not poisonous.”

I'm not trying to kill you, he almost says; but something in him stops the words before they leave his mouth and he instead tilts his head in a short mock of your own.

And he swears in the breeze carries a huff from beneath that gauzy fabric – and then the root disappears rather awkwardly under your veil.

In the glinting light of the cave, he can just nearly make the shape of your lips, hear the small snap of the stalk between your teeth. And in the quiet lap of waves against the shore in the distance, Paul watches expectantly – from years of habit, he is used to the milky taste; but he remembers how unpleasant it can be the first time.

And those eyes catch his own, some phantom force from behind shades of green – slowly, you spit it out onto your palm, as if questioning if you were doing it right. Paul’s face feels suddenly warm – a trail of saliva falls from lips glistening in the spare ray of sun, alight with a forested green and the milky blood of the root. It is a harsh reminder of the dream he'd woken up from this very morning; and with a sudden sense of panic – as if you might somehow reach into his mind and see such salacious thoughts – he forces the visions away.

The waves lap idly against his feet; you rub the mixture into your palm quietly.

“How did you know to do that?”

Your voice is curious, and the fingers not matted with the root-paste press against the spongy moss beside your pants. You’re a vision of that first day, when you’d whispered words of interest at the very plant nor beneath your touch; a vision of green and poise, of stoic quiet and twitching fingers. Despite himself, Paul’s lips curl up in a small grin.

Squinting against the sunshine, the beach in the distance is a warbly thing, foamed and bubbled by the current – and his left shoulder shrugs. “I played here when I was young. I got pinched a lot.”

You don't necessarily laugh, but there’s an exhalation from your nose that curves his own lips; and when, after a few more minutes, you reach to rinse your hand in the pool before you, the angry skin has returned to its glowing health.

Waves crash quietly within the cove and Paul warily watches one of the bluecrabs meander across a rock beside you – just when he parts his lips to warn you, your fingers move away, head tracking its path across and towards the smaller pool behind you.

And in the moment of silence, he hears the unmistakable rumble of your stomach.

“Are you hungry?” He asks suddenly, clearing his throat; Your hand has taken to drawing idle circles in the tidepool, and you hardly cease the hypnotizing movements as you shrug with a small nod. “I slept through lunch today.”

A moment of hesitation before he looks over his shoulder at you – unassuming, running your nails across the patch of bare skin awarded by the cuffing of your trouser legs; and slowly, from the bag beside him, he pulls out the food that he'd taken from the kitchen.

Apples, crackers, some imported cheese; sparkling juice from the vineyards south of Cala City, and a foil filled with bits of chocolate.

But through his focus on unwrapping the pack, your voice cracks into the cove, incredulous – almost amused. “This was all for you?”

Paul bristles defensively, giving you a wide glance, cheeks warm. “I was hungry,” He defends; and with a hard blink, he’s brought back to the week previous, when all that he saw when you were around was red – anger, trepidation, mistrust.

And though thoughts whirl in his mind quicker than he can catch – of you, your family, your time on Giedi Prime – he finds himself mildly pleased with the stalemate that has come about; a hand reached across an abyss, and a hesitant grasp in return.

Your voice is light when you speak again. “If I can confess,” your head trails down sheepishly – Paul’s attention follows you. “The veils have never made it easy to enjoy a long supper. They tangle in my hair no matter how it's styled, anyways.”

And despite himself, he huffs a short laugh; was that a hint of a joke, from you?

It is not so abnormal, veils – he has known many women in his life to wear them – but never in a custom such as yours; to not remove it in front of anybody for months and months of mourning – He cannot fathom how bizarre a change it must be, even if it is how you were raised.

So when your hands raise, he does not expect them to go towards the hem of the fabric.

And he does not expect you to slide it from the crown of your head.

It is sharply that he whips his head away; in a skipped heartbeat, the glimpse of your hair unfettered by the green gauze haunts his mind – what in the hell are you doing?

Paul’s heart thunders against his chest, though he cannot find any words to string into a meaningful sentence – he watches a bluecrab crawl into the pool across the way.

“I don't mean to shock you,” your voice is so very close, now; he swallows down the flutter in his throat at its lilt, “Truth be told, I'm not even sure if I'm supposed to wear these still.”

Confusion laces through his mind – the rock you sit upon is wetted and dark, clumped with bright emerald moss; and you, as if unknowingly, throw kindle into the fire of nerves in his chest.

A mirthful tone you bring with your words: “You don't have to look away, you know. I'm still the same beast as before.”

And he does look, after that.

Paul cannot help himself: he stares at you – really you – no fabric to cover the slope of your nose, the curve of your chin, the round of your cheeks; the way your brows gather, a canopy above the most expressive eyes he’s ever seen in his life.

And your hair is loose – let wild and uncovered, swayed gently by the sea breeze; glossy in the glint of sun off the sea in the distance. Paul wonders absently, in some foul derivative of jealousy or hatred, if Feyd-Rautha enjoyed your hair; unique as it surely was on a planet full of hairless beings.

Paul quickly schools himself – perhaps in another life, he’d be rather ecstatic to see that he has such a beautiful bride-to-be; yet it just serves to wash over another pang in his stomach. Your words of moments ago haunt over his mind as he once more meets your eyes, waiting for him. I'm still the same beast as before.

There is some inevitability to your gaze – disfavored to him, yes – but perceptive, knowing.

The pull of the tide must be answered by the shore, Dr. Yueh once told him; Perhaps that is true, and perhaps that is why Paul stares at you, the sense of mistrust breaking way to a new sense of dread, of regret.

You are no beast to me, he should say. But he doesn't; not when he’s unsure if it would be a lie coming from his lips.

Instead, he can only voice the astonishment in his mind at the sight of your veil held between your hands. “Why did you take it off?”

You blink; heavens, your lashes are long – they kiss your cheeks against the soft light from the grotto. He swallows thickly, busying himself with the apple and a knife.

Your voice comes as matter-of-fact as you’d been in the meeting that very morning. “Well, I'm quite hungry.”

You lean over – your tunic rustles in the movement, and Paul averts his gaze from the glinting necklace upon your chest, the slide of your hair upon the fabric of your back. Slowly, you take to slicing the cheese for you both with your very own blade – and Paul’s confusion has not quelled, but instead grown in the breeze of your nearly casual movements.

It’s as if the veil took with it the cold, calculating dissidence; you sit in front of him a young woman, plain. Pretty, sharp, cunning; but, simpler than that: Hungry.

A simple thing indeed – one that, as his own stomach rumbles, he knows he relates to. And so he offers you a slice of apple warily, watching you with some lingering shame, as if he's stumbled upon on a shrine long since sacred and wanting.

“I thought you wore them for nine months,” He states, tilting his head, "The anthropologists in the video said–”

But you’ve reared to stare at him, blinking in some odd vision of shock: “–Nine months?" You interrupt, voice more animated than he's ever heard; it nearly startles him, the youth in your voice, the life. You nearly bemoan, furrowing your brows as if hoping to recall a long lost memory. “It’s hardly been three weeks and I’ve already begun to fantasize burning them.”

Confusion must paint his expression, for your face changes sheepishly, falling into a solemn line. “Forgive me,” You clear your throat, “It's grown apparent to me as of late that am not well-versed in my own customs.”

And it is a stony, quick change from your previous cadence; Paul’s brows furrow, though you seem to offer him further elaboration as you take in his countenance.

“My family did not often uphold many of the old religion's traditions once I got old,” You sigh as you chew on an apple, tilting your head, “I was educated by the Bene Gesserit as my mother wished when I was young - and in many ways, our family adopted their customs in replacement of our heritage culture.”

It is a stone dropped into his stomach at your words, though he lets no emotion betray him – your voice licks with the lilt of trepidation in the mention of the Bene Gesserit; and your eyes, wide and expressive, only pull him in despite the foreboding churn of his stomach.

This is certainly not what Paul expected – why, then, have you been wearing the veil so devotedly?

“I have a book,” He says dumbly – and with a cleared throat, he ignores the sudden flush that crawls from the collar of his tunic. “If you– if you want to read more about it.”

You fix him with a look, and he’s struck by the rawness of your features. “A book?” you echo, and he shifts upon his seat awkwardly.

“About your family's customs. I j–” he stops himself, combing a stray curl back, “We thought it would be pertinent to know what your courting traditions are, what your customs are. To make you… comfortable,” he reasons gently, guilty that it was not so apparent from the beginning, “If… if we are to marry, it should be honorable. For both of us.”

It's as if his words have seeped into the spongy spin of your mind; your eyes have grown distant as they course over the shoreline across the way, brows settling in a line across the smooth skin of your forehead. Moments pass and the words he left hanging in the air stay; Waves kiss the sand of the cove and Paul toys with the knife in his hands quietly. He’s unsure how he might pull you from those cold depths of your thoughts, and so he sits, watching your lips purse and catch between your pearled teeth gently.

And after a moment, you come back to him. “Thank you,” You say – and your voice is once again that blank, cold tone – as if a wall had been snapped up suddenly, “I only remember wearing the veils when I was–” You break off for a moment, ripping the skin from a slice of apple. “When my sister died. I wasn’t quite old enough to remember much from it, and… I was eighteen when I left Sabberon. As I got older, our castle was so often full of visitors that we would regularly forgo most customs of my father’s family.”

It is a melancholy thing when you look back up at him. “If I can be honest, I… suppose I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Involuntary as it is, Paul cannot help his gaze from darting to the necklace you wear around your neck; and just as quickly he moves to search your visage – looking perhaps for any emotion. He finds none.

I shall wear it like a dog.

The breeze catches your hair. Paul’s brows furrow, “The veil wasn’t your choice,” he realizes. Guilt, that drooping, wilting guest, slumps upon the stoop of his heart.

And you shrug, glancing at your lap, “True, it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to make choices for myself,” you admit – and it’s an admission far too heavy for the air in the cove, as you swirl your toes in the pool, as his own press to the rock beneath the water, his heart heavy. A hand flickers to the veil that lies with its adorning metal headpiece to your left. “I guess taking it off is one of them.” You clear your throat, nails digging into the earth exposed from where Paul had ripped the root – and your other hand rises, almost as if you endure a sharp pain in your ribs – and you cradle the spot, fingers lingering in a haunting line before falling to the rock below. “Feyd-Rautha would not have let me wear the veil even if I had wanted to. But at least I am making the choice for myself now.”

And it is a jolting reminder, one of horror – when you had arrived on Caladan, Duncan's arm still bleeding with the result of your fight, Paul had seen a Harkonnen. A dagger wrapped in layers of silk and velvet.

And perhaps the Caladan air has changed you; but more likely, you have begun to heal yourself – and although you do not look well-rested, there are indeed healing wounds upon your arms; wounds that churn Paul’s stomach, that strike his heart in acrimony, in wrath. A nightmare, you’ve come from – and he knows now that whatever you’ve endured is something that would break many.

Still, you’ve changed in a gradual shift: You are not so fervent or distrusting as you were those first few days – though you remain that ghost haunting the halls, you walk with less wrath, more credence; He knows you speak with your chambermaids freely – you take sparring lessons with Duncan after Paul each day, and tutor in the mornings before he does. Your voice in council this morning: Grown and defrosting, confident; born to take on such a role.

You sit perched upon the dark rock – the light hits your hair and the slope of your nose, bathing your eyelashes in an ethereal glow. You’re a sharp woman, keen and astute; He watches your straight spine, the slow breaths which grow from a proud chest.

You will make a good duchess.

And in a moment, Paul notices – a wide gaze, searching his face; it occurs to him that perhaps this is also the first time you have seen him unobstructed. And so, with an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach, he lets you stare; a secret relish in the silence and its change in demeanor.

A once excruciating thing, leaking with the sentiment of shared disdain, of mutual mistrust – though now grows a respect, or maybe the roots to it; a slow thing, plotten in frozen soil and hoped to grow despite harsh weathers.

You finish your half of the apple, and he watches the glint of your necklace as you lean back upon your palms. “Can I…” His voice breaks through as an ocean does a cliff; “Can I ask you something?”

It is a beautiful collar. I shall wear it like a dog.

And Paul is so very suddenly tired – fatigued from his lessons, the council, the marriage, the prospect of war with the Harkonnens, of his dreams; his head feels as though it swims, light above the clouds and yet tethered to the ground below.

Your brows dip slightly, as if your hackles rise. “Yes,” you murmur warily, eyes roving over his figure.

He swallows thickly, willing himself to spit it out. “Do you choose to wear that?”

He need not gesture to the necklace that hangs around your neck; and you, stilling in the cold wind of truth. When it comes, it is not through words: Your eyes are wide and, if Paul did not know better, they reveal the sting of fear.

You say nothing, but in time, you shake your head slightly.

And this does not ease his conscience.

It is an echo of words bitten through clenched teeth and the onslaught of rain; it is in the weeping willows of that ceremonial dress, in the sliding of shade over your veil that first time he ever met you.

He’s not sure why he says it, but it comes as a whisper, as wind snuffs out a flame, as fog creeps across the shoreline in the early hours:

“Threats demand evolution.”

His murmur is swallowed by the breeze in the cove, by the rustle of the veil beside you.

His words bristle your spine, though you say nothing; and for a long minute, he avoids the burning stare of your gaze against his profile.

It is only after the food is prepared and spread over the moss between you that you speak; and in the time it takes for Paul to lay out the food, it occurs to Paul that this is the most you and him have spoken without being plagued by tense silences or passive-aggression – or at least without enduring the childish embarrassment of being mediated by his parents as they ask you both questions at the supper table.

A nail, trimmed and coated in a deep paint, traces the glass bottle that lies half in the bag – the soft clink of your tap brings his gaze from the pools below. “Did you intend on drinking yourself drunk this afternoon?” You wonder – a warmer tone, that inkling of amiability returning so suddenly.

He hands you a piece of bread and his knife, shaking his head wryly – though the lingering hesitance of unfamiliarity restricts him from jesting in return.

Having intended to be alone, Paul had not grabbed a glass, let alone two; and so he grasps the bottle by its neck, twisting on the cage atop it to begin to open it. An irritating curl lies across his forehead – and so he flicks his head to jolt it out of the way; your gaze tracks the motion.

“It's sparkling tea.”

At his words you hum slowly, glancing at the bottle in his hands.

“That’s a shame.” You muse, hand brushing one of your own strands away, “I've never tried wine.”

Paul's eyes flicker to you in surprise; Had you not been offered wine at supper here? Had you never had it in your youth, as a highborn?

“Not even when you were young?”

And you shake your head, a wistful smile gracing your lips; your hair is silken, even in the shade – Paul hadn't expected it to be such a shade, but suits you.

“Never,” you confirm, “Where I come from, our preferred drinks are mead or ale, usually served warm. And…” You trail off, shrugging, “On Giedi Prime they favor liquor that is made from anise – you know, the spice?” You inquire, and continue when he nods, “It's much too bitter for my taste,” you continue, your voice tinged with a similar bitterness that you describe, “And even if I did enjoy it, I… tried not to drink there, when I could.”

Paul looks out to the sea – clouds crawl in an ominous roll towards the shore, the air thick – it’ll rain this evening.

There is nothing to say; and so, he begins to ease his thumb over the cork, pressure pushing against him.

“In the South, all that grows are fields and fields of vines,” he explains after the moment passesa dn clouds swallow the sunlight. Dripping sun, wide-reaching hands of vines, drooping with heavy clusters of sweetgrapes in the South. “They make all kinds of fine wine there. Sweet, sparkling, aged.”

You hum at this, your gaze tracking his own to the sea, tracing the crash of waves against the stark cliffs in the distance.

Your small lunch passes by in intermediate silence after this: Both you and Paul are insatiably hungry, and in minutes the food is nearly gone – you’re not particularly warm, and neither is he; and it matters not. He is well consumed with his own thoughts to give himself the company you do not provide.

Though as the sun continues its peak in the sky and you continue to eat quietly – clearly attempting to remain amiable with him – a sense of regret bubbles in his chest.

“I owe you an apology.”

And it startles you – his throat is dry, and your jump goes unaddressed, your nails digging into the moss beneath as he refuses to meet your gaze. “I've…” He pushes away the pride that burns at his throat, “I’ve treated you poorly. Acted like a child,” he admits.

In his peripheral, you turn to him.

His sigh is weary. “I didn't expect for it to happen like this,�� and the corner of his mouth lifts mirthlessly – emotionless, as he gazes to the coast. An understatement on his part, and surely yours, too – but it is indeed the truth.

And perhaps it is not polite to admit to your betrothed that you loathe the idea of marrying them, but he knows the feeling is more than mutual. And he does not blame you for it.

Paul is admittedly not usually one for so many words with a stranger – but they come forth very easily in the quiet of the cove. “I was… displeased with how this worked out. Shocked. But–” He shakes his head, unwilling to lose his thought, “But that doesn't excuse how I've treated you.”

You don't say anything, but he can feel how tense you've grown – a statue once more in the dying afternoon sunshine. You have every reason to hate the Harkonnens just as much as his family – if not much more; and with a clammy palm, Paul runs his hand over his forehead.

The thunderclouds loom in the horizon; the salt carries thick in the growing wind.

And with the absence of your words – perhaps in a moment of resignation, he says your first name; Never having said it out loud, it comes out as a murmur on his lips, a small hymn that coaxes your gaze to his own.

“This path was set for us.” He admits, swallowing thickly, “Though we can–” He turns to watch your eyes, how they swirl with unbridled emotion. “Maybe we can navigate it together.”

And in the afterbreath of his words, your breathing is heavy with emotion. Paul is not naive enough to believe it is tears, though he averts his gaze all the same.

“Yeah,” you finally whisper – and though it is dispassionate, withdrawn, it is laced with some small drip of desperation. “Yes.” You mend – though your eyes are far away, tracing the violence in the crashing waves, watching the foamy white caps break in their wake.

“I won't disrespect you again,” he insists, “I swear.”

You lift your feet from the water, curling them under you as you stir, nodding slowly. “Thank you,” Your eyes are sullen. “But don't make promises you can't keep, Paul.” And though he expected as much, the emptiness of your tone churns his heart and spins his head. “I've had my fill of broken vows.”

You aren't hostile in your words; instead they are melancholy, a dreary wind whistling through an empty ravine – beneath Paul, another small bluecrab treks across the terrain, rocking in the gentle water tides.

You’re right – and he's soon filled with the same sense of dread that he's felt after each dream that has haunted him since they began; that same melancholy which envelopes you as you rise, gathering your belongings, preparing to walk back to the castle.

And Paul walks beside you, little more than a few words escaping either of you as you go; a brush of your shoulder against the crook of his elbow, the hitch of a breath concealed with a glance to the shoreline.

By the time you enter the main gates, fat raindrops have begun to fall on Paul’s face, sticking heavy to his lashes.

You, likewise, shield slightly from the rain, your hair kissed with teardrops from the skies, sliding over your cheeks like the tears you’ll never give.

The halls are slick with intracked rainfall – workers offer towels, scold him, tease him; and yet they stare, though they try not to – eyes warm his neck, and pierce through the girl who walks at his side.

But still you walk with your head high, spine straight. Your eyes are guarded, almost insecure at the prying faces who watch your visage as you pass – but even as Paul walks you to your chambers, you don't give in.

And you don't put the veil back on.

follow @sandpoet for updates & notifications.

#paul atreides fanfic #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x you #paul atredies x reader #dune 2021 #dune fanfiction #dune movie #dune part one #paul x reader #paul atreides smut #dune smut #dune fic

162 notes · View notes