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anashins · 4 months

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King of the Streets

Pairing: street racer!Jaehyun x journalist!reader

Genre: street racing au, action, drama, romance, slow burn, smut

Word Count: 28k (I just can't write short stories, I'm sorry)

Summary: The moment you find yourself hiding in the backseat of a sports car that's illegally racing through the city, you just know this story will finally catapult you to the top of your journalism career. But there are a few things you haven't reckoned: How personal this story will eventually turn - and the driver's sheer insatiable craving for lollipops. And for you.

A/N: I started this after Jaehyun admitted he would have liked to become an F1 racer if the idol-path wouldn't have worked out for him. I spiraled and this is the outcome - I hope you have fun reading it as much as I had writing it!

“It’s been three years since I’ve started working here, and-”

“Unfortunately, this doesn’t matter, miss.”

For an entire week, you had prepared yourself for this meeting with your editor-in-chief. You had written down all your achievements from when you were an intern to your current position.

And he had the nerve to tell you it all didn’t matter?

It had been three very long years with too many nights spent in the office to meet a deadline you were not responsible for, trips all across the country on your own account for stories that hadn’t even made it into the magazine, and work meetings where no one had bothered listening to your ideas and input.

After all the hard work and sleepless hours you had poured into your dedicated passion, it was unfathomable to you how he didn’t even bother bringing up the slightest interest in what you had to say, and it showed all over face in the form of widened eyes and slightly parted lips.

“Others have started prior to you and they’re in the exact same position,” your chief editor said, swaying in his chair. The city’s skyline spread behind him like a painting as the sun was setting, and more than once had you already imagined yourself in that spot. “What makes you think you’re better than any of them?”

An imaginary note popped up in your head. You got this, you were prepared for this. “I’m one of the firsts to go and one of the last to leave, I wrote the most clicked article on our website - to this day. I offer input to everyone who hasn’t got something going on, my personal and professional network that I’ve built throughout the past years is wide and strong. I’m the first one to take on suggested topics, the number of articles I publish per month is the highest out of all editors, I’m always up-to-date, I live for this job.”

The middle-aged man leaned forward and propped his elbows against the glass table, inspecting you thoroughly while you were bracing yourself to elaborate every bullet point. But he only said,

“No, I don’t think so.”

You were flabbergasted. “Pardon me?”

“I don’t think you actually live for this job,” he explained calmly. “For that, it takes more than research and cranking out as many articles as possible just because your writing is good. It is, trust me, but the stories lack emotion and graspable actions. Right now, you’re only sitting in front of the computer, writing from your imagination. You don’t live the stories, you’re not in them.”

“I take trips across the country to attend events, I participate in every press conference possible, I-”

Again, he interrupted you, “Hara got in contact with a designer and walked for his show as an amateur model. Dal went to the rooftop of the highest building in this city and took pictures that even made it into television.”

“But that is illegal,” you commented. “Hara smuggled herself in when one of the models fell sick and Dal nearly got caught by the police.”

“And we would’ve bailed for all of them.” He sighed deeply as if annoyed by repeating himself. “See, this is what I’m trying to say, miss. The writing that you’re delivering is clean and conformable to law. When I read your articles, I’m well informed, but nothing sticks in my head. We’re a magazine, not a newspaper. Nobody wants to read about the opening of a new restaurant when they can read about things they will never be able to experience themselves. You have to dive in the story, be in the story to make people believe they’re in them too when they read it.”

You were quite taken aback as you noticed he remained polite when all he wanted to say was, “So, my stories are too boring, not sensational.”

The editor-in-chief let out another long sigh and fell back into his chair. “You have a trademark, but you have to get out of your secure shell to actually go somewhere, otherwise you’re going to get stuck.”

You were a goody two-shoes was what he tried to tell you. You were on the top when it was about writing, grammar and quantity, but your stories didn’t attract anyone’s interest, and if that wasn’t the case, then you could write as many perfect articles as you wanted - you would never get a higher position.

You inhaled deeply. “So, what do you suggest I’d do?”

His answer was clear, “Look for a story that will change lives. Write a story that will leave people breathless, and you’re getting the position of a senior editor. Because miss, you’re one of the most capable journalists here, but you don’t only need to be capable, you need to be a storyteller. If you can do this, propose the topic to me next week. If it’s what I expected, it will make headlines in the next issue and secure your new position.”

If only it were so easy.

____

You were sitting in the fast food restaurant with your notebook opened in front of you. Every single page was blank even though you had been there for several hours already, the ballpen in your hand having barely moved ever since.

“Do you want to order something else?”

“I’m good, thank you.”

You could only imagine the eyeroll the waitress let out when she turned away from you after not getting another order for two hours. But you were already short of cash this month and wouldn’t get paid for another week.

Another reason why you needed the senior position: as a regular editor, you could barely get by. Why were journalists underpaid anyway when they were the source of daily news and this connected the world? You had never understood.

Many ideas had flown into your head, from working a day in a job that was notorious to interviewing an infamous inmate, but none of these were exciting or extraordinary enough like it was expected of you. The topics that you came up with didn’t immediately peak interest when you researched about what your fellow editors had ever written about. And what you found left you nearly speechless and doubting yourself.

Yes, you had always been tame, reserved, a goody two-shoes. That was why your mind was also not expanding to the way it was expected of reporters. Perhaps, you were not made for this job as you could also not quite learn how to do it right.

Should you perhaps change to newspapers after all? But the open positions were always so rare and you had wanted to start at your current magazine because it was the most famous in the country…

“Where are you going after this?”

“I’m going to watch the race, Falcon against Antelope!”

“They’re set for tonight? I didn’t know!”

“Pscht, not so loud!”

Since you already lost focus and let other people’s voices into your mind, you could also pack your things and go home. You were already so done for the day.

“Can I come with you? It’s been so long since the last time I went.”

“Sure. They’ll start at midnight, so we have to hurry.”

You zipped up your handbag and threw a few bills on the table, already with one arm up the sleeve of your jacket when you perked up your ears.

“Falcon will make a comeback, so tonight there will be a lot of cash flowing!”

“Wow!”

You cleared up your throat and walked up to the two young women on the nearby table whose conversation you had been partially involuntarily listening to for the last minute. Despite your attention only shifting to them much later, you got the gist of the entire story.

It was about illegal street racing, you had read an article about it a few months ago in which the alias Falcon had also been mentioned along with another animal that you had forgotten.

The Falcon was only stuck in your mind, because there had been an accident caused by him, and ever since then, the police were paying even more attention to these kinds of illegal activities. The fact that there would be a race tonight must be a well hidden secret.

“Excuse me, I overheard you’re also going to watch the race?” you feigned knowledge and quickly made up a story that would get them to talk. “Can you tell me where exactly they’ll start? I was going to meet my friend here who’s got all the info, but she’s not arrived yet and I’m afraid I’m gonna be late.”

They looked at you in wonder, then in amazement. One of them, apparently the better informed one, then nodded eagerly before describing the exact spot to you. “I guess it’s going to be quite full since it’s the first one with Falcon since the… incident. So everyone wants to see him. They’ll start at the industrial park at midnight.”

You nodded. “Thank you. Maybe we’ll see each other there.” You waited a bit until they had left the restaurant and then pondered whether to join or not.

There had already been many articles written about the Falcon and street racing in common, but since the most controversial racer would make a comeback, this race would be a special one, perhaps even kept secret to a point where no other media outlet knew about it. There was a slim chance that you were going to be the only reporter, so regardless of your current struggles, you had to take this opportunity.

Yes, an article about the Falcon’s comeback was good, but that was by far not enough for the story of your lifetime. It was better than nothing though, a beginning. And who knew what could come out of it.

As a journalist, you had learned that you were better off going and had something expected to write about rather than not going and missing on unexpected happenings.

So you headed to the industrial park.

____

When you arrived at the destination, you spotted a crowd that had formed in a wide, clear space between two buildings. There were about fifty spectators that had gathered, divided into different groups of various sizes, lights coming from the street lamps all around the place.

Through the gaps between the cliques that all seemed too engaged with each other to notice how lost you were, you discovered a group of men that marked themselves off everyone else.

It wasn’t particularly the way they were dressed as they all wore black leather, but rather the presence they radiated. But you couldn’t deny the fact that all of them were equally overly handsome, just in a way you wouldn’t be drawn to. You weren’t intimidated, you were scared to the bones, and you immediately wanted to turn on your heels and run right back home.

You weren’t much informed about the topic of illegal street racing aside from the few articles you had read. You only knew that it was one of the most dangerous underground activities that had cost a few lives already, of drivers and passerbyers almost equally. It was macabre that articles like these gained the most attention, clicks and sales.

Although you weren’t quite passionate about this kind of topic let alone approved of it, it was the best that you could come up with for now. You wanted to prove to your editor-in-chief that you were willing to take risks, willing to leave your comfort zone for the job - even if this wasn’t going to be the final story.

But now that you were right in the middle of this happening, you were getting cold feet. This wasn’t right. If you were caught as a spectator, would the police detain you too? And would your boss truly bail you out?

“Place your bet!”

You flinched when a young man popped up right next to you with a tablet in his hand, looking at you with expectant eyes.

“Pardon?”

“Place your bet!” he repeated. “Falcon against Antelope.”

“Oh, I only came to watch,” you waved aside. “But thank you!”

“You’re here for the first time, am I right?” The guy’s eyes narrowed. “Place. Your. Bet. This is how we’re financing this all. No money, no races.”

This wasn’t a question anymore, this was a demand, and you figured that if you were going to remain undercover, you had to play along and pretend to be like everyone else, even though you didn’t know the rules to this game. The guy was scanning you from head to toe, and it took you everything to restrain yourself from shaking when you took the tablet into your hands.

You had changed your mind entirely by now. You just wanted to be out of here as fast as possible, no matter what the editor-in-chief might say about this lost opportunity. It just wasn’t worth all this stress and fear. After all, you were quite attached to your life and a clear criminal report. It wasn’t that bad to be a goody two-shoes.

Still, you had to place a bet before you could vanish so that the guy would stop bothering you, so you scanned the display laying in your palms.

There were two columns, one belonged to the Falcon, the other to the Antelope. Each column was divided into different cells with the name and the amount of money one betted. No one had placed a single bet on the Falcon.

What was there to lose when the money would be gone from you one way or another since you were going to leave right after this anyway? You wouldn’t win a single penny.

So you placed a fake name and 70.000 Won for the Falcon, which was ironically the lowest bid for the Antelope. You noticed that most of the other people had betted much more, making you wonder about the total amount the winner could collect. But 70.000 Won was already very much for you, so you stuck with that.

“The Falcon, huh?” The guy grinned. “Risky, but I like the way you think. We only accept cash. Today it’s 20 million won so far for the winner, and ten percent of it gets split between the right betters depending on their bets. Maybe you’re lucky tonight and win ten percent of the entire amount yourself.”

You were holding yourself back letting out an audible gasp as it truly sounded tempting, and instead reached into your bag and pulled out your purse. 70.000 Won was a small price for your life, and you couldn’t wait to finally leave and never turn back. How high were the chances the Falcon was going to win anyway when nobody believed he would?

The guy grinned when he collected your money. “Interesting. It’s going to be an interesting race today. Good luck!”

He then went on to bother someone else all while you checked your surroundings for a hidden, but secure exit. Since you had used a fake name and only one person had seen your real face up close, it would be easy getting away unnoticed.

And you did.

Sliding along the buildings with your back pressed into the outer walls, nobody paid attention to you since the race was about to begin and a turmoil broke out shortly after your bet. You had been weighing yourself in safety, currently hiding in a blind, dark spot in the entrance of a different building with the street to freedom in sight when you suddenly heard male voices speaking up.

“Ready, Jaehyun?”

“More than you are.”

You froze on the spot when you saw several tall figures coming in your direction, their bodies illuminated by the street lamps, and you recognized the intimidating men dressed all in black leather who had been right in the middle of the crowd shortly before.

You couldn’t go back or forth, because either side was illuminated and would set the spotlight right on you, and flight forward would mean running directly into their arms. You could only push the door to the building behind you open and…

You found yourself standing in some kind of huge factory hall where only two cars were parked, the rest was entirely empty. Who in their right mind would rent a whole factory building for only two cars? Yes, they were expensive sports cars from what you could tell, the kind of ones that would catch everyone’s attention on the streets because of how luxurious and tuned they were… but an entire hall?

You were still processing and connecting all of this new information when the same door through which you had entered got pushed open again, and in walked all men that you had run from shortly before.

Your heart suddenly lept, and you feared that this was what a heart attack might feel like, yet you were very much still alive as you were able to desperately look for a spot to hide again while they hadn’t discovered your presence yet, but lingered by the entrance with the focus on two of them talking.

Out of reflex, as one of them turned into your direction, you fell to your knees and hid behind one of the cars - the matte black one -, suppressing a gasp the moment this exact car unlocked with a sound and flash from afar.

“I’m not afraid of you. I pity you.”

You needed a new spot to remain hidden with footsteps approaching this vehicle. Right now.

“And why would that be, Jaehyun?”

You had to think of something safe, but there was barely time anymore.

“Because you’re going to lose the race today.”

No way in hell.

There was no way in hell these were the racing cars! But of course, now everything made sense as to why those cars were being kept here, you just had been in too much of a panic to have connected the dots.

How you found yourself inside that matte, black car at this moment of realization, you couldn’t tell. Just like you couldn’t tell how you could have hoped to get out of this situation unnoticed all while hiding in a crouching position in the backseat with the only way to escape being visibly passing by these men.

If only you had stayed behind the car or under the car if you were to be discovered anyway, you could have somehow talked yourself out of this situation. But how were you going to explain you had actually sneaked into a racing vehicle? Out of all the dumb things you had ever done, this made it to the top of your list.

You flinched and threw yourself down into the small legroom between the driver’s seat and backseat, when you heard the door in front of you open and a figure seated himself behind the steering wheel.

No way this was your situation now!

Everything was better than ending up inside one of these cars, hearing it start and rolling out of the hall.

This… this situation couldn’t be real.

If you just stayed crouched in the legroom, not giving away a single tone or making a single move, maybe you still had a chance to survive this ride unnoticed. How you would handle this situation when you returned and had to reveal yourself if you didn’t want to be locked inside that car until you died of thirst… that was something you didn’t want to think about yet.

After a few feet, the car came to a stop in the clearing among the spectators, and you made yourself even smaller in case someone might want to get a look inside. By the way the crowd cheered and rejoiced, you hoped that the racer was the Antelope for god knows which reason. They were both racers with the intention to win by all means.

The noise got louder, went from muffled to clear, and you realized the driver had pulled down the window.

“Everything ready?” A male voice.

“I’m ready,” was the driver’s dry answer, a deep voice with a calming, soft undertone.

The engine was raving up, and you were tucked between the passenger’s seat and the backseat in a hole that was too tight, but because of that it was also the safest spot for the ride as there was no room to move anyway. Turning your head against the window at the opposite of you, you only saw light that flooded in and nothing else.

Dear god, you found yourself praying for the first time in your life, please let me live.

“Jaehyun, do you hear me?”

You flinched when you heard another voice.

“Clear and loud.”

“Only ten seconds left.”

“Okay.”

Was he communicating through a two-way radio with someone? You hadn’t expected this race to be so well-planned and coordinated. Was it always like this? This was an interesting and not widely known point. You only hoped your memory would keep all this information saved as you for sure wouldn’t be able to take out your notebook and write everything down now.

This was the journalist inside you taking the upper hand again. If you were already in this situation, you were going to write the hell out of it. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity you would never get again, the exact situation your editor-in-chief had talked about.

This was going to be your headline story. You only hoped what he had promised was true and your company would really bail you out if it came down to this. Or pay for hospital bills. There was no way you would be able to leave unscathed, physically and emotionally.

“Three!” the crowd yelled that you could also hear in the car as though you were standing among them.

“Two!” Your fingers gripped onto leather and something metallic, you couldn’t really tell.

“One!” You closed your eyes.

“GO!”

How equally unlucky and lucky you were to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Or right place at the right time, it depended.

____

You were absolutely not safe in your hiding spot as expected. You got tossed and flung into every direction possible, and if it weren’t for the narrow space in which you had tucked yourself in, you believed that you would have been hurled into the seat right next to the driver already.

But you were gripping hard onto the cushions like your life depended on it just to prevent this from happening as the car sped through the streets and took every curve with such a sharp edge, you were amazed the vehicle didn’t drive on one side only by then. In your location, you weren’t quite able to catch the car’s speed, but only guessed by the street lights flashing by in less than a single second, which was, in your non-existent experience, quite much.

While the driver was talking to the person at the other end of the radio who was giving him directions and tips, navigating him away from police controls and crowded locations, you started to feel a bit braver with no more sharp curve having come in miles anymore. Most likely, you were on the highway now.

So you slowly arose and got on your knees. Curiosity eventually had gotten the better of you, and you wondered what the world outside looked like. In the end, no matter how you would come out of this, you had to make sure it must have been all worth it.

You had to come to the conclusion that if you moved a bit higher to look out of the window, he might spot your head from his position if he looked in the rear window. With a muted curse, you crouched back down, but instantly got hit by another idea. Dragging the phone out of your handbag was quite an act when you barely couldn’t move, but once you had managed to do so, you inwardly hyped yourself up.

You turned on the camera and pressed the record button, then imperceptibly motioned the phone over your head and let the upper part peek out of your lair with the camera facing out of the window. If he would look, then he would barely see anything, probably mistake the black edge of your phone for a shadow or a part of the car’s interior.

When suddenly a ringing tone broke through the silence inside the car though, you nearly let your device fall with a gasp. You thought you had the ringtone silenced for the entire day already, how was it possible?!

“Hello,” the driver suddenly greeted, and only then it took a load off your mind. It wasn’t your phone that had rung.

“Jaehyun, when will you come home?” The female voice sounded playful, childish. A kid? Perhaps a teenager even?

“Why are you still awake?” The driver named Jaehyun chided with feigned sternness, of whom you still didn’t know what he looked like and whether he was the Falcon or the Antelope. “It’s past midnight and you have school tomorrow.”

“I was waiting for you to come home.”

“But I won’t be home for another hour. It’s going to be late tonight.” The driver sighed, and he sounded very regretful. “I’m sorry.”

“Jaehyun, are you currently racing?”

Silence followed, and suddenly, you felt like you were going to overhear something no one else was supposed to eavesdrop. Like an intruder - which you technically and obviously were since this was obviously a conversation between two family members.

The driver repeated, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I won’t tell mom. I’ll tell her you’re studying in the library again.”

A yawn followed on the other side, and suddenly, you heard the driver snicker. Somehow, it didn’t fit his attitude that you had gotten a glimpse at earlier. Even his responses to the person at the other side of the radio had always been short and curt. But to this young person, he was entirely different.

“I will wait for you. Mom said I shouldn’t, but I cannot sleep if I don’t know you’re home.”

“I’ll come home safe.”

“Promise?”

“Promise, sis. I will always come home safe.”

Your arm that was holding the phone quietly slipped back into your lap, and you stayed silent for a very long time after they had hung up. This was so wrong. You had signed up for an adventure, not to listen to an intimate conversation between siblings that somehow also warmed your heart.

If you had learned anything from it, then it was that the driver was indeed a kind person deep within. It didn’t matter what he did, for what he did it and who he was in the end, Antelope or Falcon. They were people with stories, and if you were the journalist you claimed to be, you needed to look at both sides of the coin and bring out everyone’s own perception.

Wasn’t this what your editor-in-chief wanted? A headline that didn’t go “Illegal street racer makes a comeback! We are the first ones to interview him” but rather “He risked it all for his little sister, and now he’s back - read here about the tragic backstory of one of Seoul’s most dangerous men!” or something along these lines.

After you had gathered yourself again, you looked at your phone while the roads started to turn bumpier now. You assumed you had reached the outskirts and were hopefully on the way back to where it had all started. Gosh, you prayed for that, even though you hadn’t come up with a plan to explain your situation at all yet.

The video on your phone showed you exactly what you had expected to see: nothing but a blur of whites and black. Great. It was useless. But what had you even expected?

“We have a problem.”

You perked up your ears as you heard the other familiar voice through the radio.

“What is it?” the driver grumbled. “Not long and we’ll…” He paused, and even with the missing eye contact, you sensed how the mood had suddenly shifted. “I haven’t seen him in a while…”

“Exactly. There is an undercover police car underway, the informants have just told us, and it’ll stop right where you have to pass through. The Antelope apparently knew about this and already took another route.”

Antelope?! You knew you didn’t want to judge, but out of all possibilities which was 50/50, of course you would have ended up in the Falcon’s aka Jaehyun’s car, the very same person you had mindlessly betted on. What were the odds?

The Falcon snorted. “Now, will you tell me he didn’t set this up himself?”

“No accusations now. Let’s think about what’s best to do. We’re currently in Gangdong-Gu, you somehow have to leave the highway.”

“There is no possibility,” he growled back. “It’s a suburb, there is no way I can pass through it on time and unnoticed for me to win the race.”

“I’ll navigate you the best I can.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. The streets are so short and narrow, it will take too long and is too complicated.”

“You can’t get caught by the police, Jaehyun. And they’re almost right in front of you. It’s better to-”

“Don’t!” he cut the person on the other end off. “I won’t give up. Not this time again. I need this win and money, you know that. It’s my comeback and reputation that I have to restore.”

“But what your family needs is you, more than money or your reputation.”

Silence. Your front teeth sank deep into your bottom lip as you were quarreling with yourself in silence. You knew what was right and what was wrong, what was legal and what was illegal, and what you were currently doing with the driver was far from being within the law as a matter of fact.

But his little sister wanted him to come home so that she could go to sleep…

“HEY!” you screamed and suddenly appeared from behind his driver’s seat.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

The car swerved to the left, hurling you out of your lair and right into the edge of the backseat with a dull pain that shot from your stomach right into every limb. You gasped for air.

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU AND HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?” Despite you still not being able to face him, you got a glimpse of his face when you looked at it through the rear window. Clear anger and also shock was written all over it. You couldn’t blame him. “ANSWER TO ME NOW!”

“Don’t… have time,” you breathed and rubbed your back, getting on your knees and slowly rising from your position. “Gangdong-Gu… that’s where I grew up. I know this place inside out. I’ll navigate you.”

“Jaehyun, who is that with you in your car? That’s a rule violation!”

“I don’t fucking know who this is!” he yelled again, but not as loud as before, and before he could react to your actions, you had already crawled over the expensive interior and settled yourself in the passenger’s seat. “Who are you?!”

With a click, you fastened the seatbelt and looked out of the window. You knew exactly where you were now. “Take the second exit from here. We will pass by within the next two minutes. You will have to drive through a part of the neighborhood to change highways, but you’ll be fine at this hour. Once you have changed motorways, you’ll even reach the destination quicker. Is that a rule violation too? Taking a shortcut through the suburbs?”

You tilted your head and met his flabbergasted expression as he was staring at you with equal intensity where also curiosity was mirrored. “Uhm… usually we avoid that to not accidentally hurt any passerbyers. But…”

“It’s not a violation of the rules,” the person on the radio jumped in quickly. “It’s just unethical and something we would not like to risk.”

“Okay, thanks radio-guy.”

“Welcome, uhm… intruder-lady?”

“I did not intrude!”

“Well, how the fuck would you call this?” the Falcon interrupted.

“I don’t have time to explain now.” Your arm shot up and you pointed at a sign. “Take this exit! Right now!”

From the corner of your eyes, you clearly saw him struggling whether to trust you or not. Fair enough. You were a stranger that had hidden in his car and were now only popping up when it was about winning or losing. If anything, you could have been smuggled in by the Antelope’s team as well. No wonder he was doubting whether he could trust you.

“Screw it.”

You got thrown to the left when he suddenly swerved and left the highway according to your instruction. With your right hand, you grabbed the handle under the window for stability, once again questioning all your life choices. But you had thought long and clear about this. Having decided on helping him would result in the best outcome for your situation.

“Three rules,” he suddenly said when he drove into the neighborhood.

You shook off all your fears, speaking confidently, “I’m listening.”

“First. No word to anyone about what’s happening and what you’re doing right now. Nobody can know you’re in here.”

Why did he sound so intimidating? “Got it.”

“Second, you will lead me through this neighborhood without any incidents. Slow, steady and clear, you’ll be the navigator, the guy at the other side helps you from afar. One wrong turn, one accident or even the danger of one, and one late instruction, and I’ll kick you out of the car right there and then.”

No pressure, no pressure at all, you thought ironically to yourself. “Got it.”

“And third,” a voice on the radio chirped, “Don’t forget to have fun!”

“Shut up, Taeyong.”

“Third,” the Falcon repeated, “when we’re back at the venue, you’ll stay hidden inside here until someone comes and gets you.”

What would happen after, you didn’t dare to ask. Surely, they wouldn’t get rid of you… right? Either way, your fate had been sealed the moment you decided to come watch the race, so you gulped silently and gave a final nod.

The car came to a halt in front of a very familiar street. Everything was dark, empty and quiet. You took a deep breather and the Falcon’s head snapped in your direction. When you faced each other the next moment, you took a spare second to study his face.

If he weren’t in a racing car, you could imagine him very well sitting in a café, sipping coffee and typing something into his laptop, maybe even wearing glasses and ordinary street clothes, possibly even joggers.

He was just a normal dude under all these leather clothes that made him appear very tough, emphasized by this constant scowl on his face that was - admittedly - very handsome. After years in your field of expertise, you could read people very well and only seldomly were you wrong.

“Ready?” he asked, not breaking eye contact.

Neither did you. “Ready.”

The adrenaline flushed through your veins the moment he hit the gas pedal.

____

“Didn’t you sleep much last night?” your co-worker asked when you yawned for the nth time that morning.

What were you supposed to answer?

“I only got home at 4am last night, because I was street racing?”

So instead, you said, “I just couldn’t fall asleep, don’t worry.”

Nobody would believe you. And yet, these were the stories that everyone sought after. But only one ride was not resourceful enough and didn't contain enough substance for a decent plot. You needed the people behind it, the backgrounds and the experiences.

But after you had gotten out of the car, these people have made it very clear to you that you shouldn’t appear in a race ever again, not even as a spectator, and that your lips needed to be sealed for eternity. The fact that they had let you go without any consequences was only out of mercy because you had contributed to the victory - with a violation of rules though.

You had learned pretty quickly though that most of the time, they ignored these rules as long as nobody got hurt as physical incidents that included innocents were the highest breach of violation - just like the Antelope who had apparently cheated like the Falcon had assumed. But since nobody got proof, there hadn’t been more consequences than a few verbal attacks. As long as nobody had seen you inside the car and could prove it somehow, you were fine.

The only person that had thanked and had been nice to you was the Falcon’s navigator, Taeyong. He had even looked very sorry for what you had been through when he had opened the door to the car and you stepped out of the hideout between the backseat and passenger’s seat with shaking legs.

The Falcon hadn’t even looked at you twice when you walked out of the building - with all the money. Yes, surprisingly, they had still given you ten percent of the prize money. It was all rightfully yours since you had been the only one betting on the Falcon. Your bet had been officially registered and you had won, so it was fair and according to the rules that you would get what you earned, Taeyong had explained.

Deep down, you sensed that he only didn’t want to admit they wouldn’t have won without you, and this was them paying off their debt. After all, you hadn’t given out your real name, so they could have just said the betting person vanished. But you didn’t push the topic and saw it as hush money that you luckily needed anyway, and accepted it. Racers had a very high sense of ethics, you had learned by now. A thank you from the Falcon wouldn’t have hurt though. But instead, he had said you should never appear in front of his eyes ever again. What a rude man.

“Okay,” your co-worker said, “shall we go through the index for the next issue and compare the page numbers? Two pairs of eyes work better than just one.”

“Sure! Let me get the notes about what the editor-in-chief said. There were some important points he mentioned that had changed…”

You reached into your handbag to look for your notebook when at that moment, the telephone on your desk rang and showed the lobby’s shortcut number.

“There is someone waiting here for you, miss.”

“Alright, I’ll come downstairs.”

You wondered whether you had actually missed a meeting or an interview that you had set up for a story, but nothing actually came into your mind when you took the elevator and rode downstairs to the lobby.

At the front desk, you asked the lady where your visitor was waiting since you hadn’t spotted a familiar face as you passed by the waiting area. When she pointed at a figure sitting on the couch, slumped on the cushion, you needed to blink twice to match the face with your memories.

“You?!” you then called out when you stood in front of the young man.

He wore a snapback, glasses, joggers and a loose long sleeve. Between his lips, he carried a white stick, and you already wanted to call him out that smoking was not allowed in here when you realized that the stick was too thin to be a cigarette. It turned out to actually be a lollipop. When your gaze fell to his feet, you were able to count every single naked toe as he wore slippers. You were right. He normally didn’t look like this nighttime-self at all. During the daytime, he was just a normal guy who appeared to have just gotten out of bed.

When the Falcon arose from his seat, he didn’t even greet you. Instead, he took the lollipop out of his mouth, round and red, and just thrusted a notebook into your hands. Your notebook - the one you had wanted to fetch from your handbag earlier and which you needed for the meeting with your editor-in-chief later. You had been so sure that it was in your handbag this entire time!

“This was still in the backseat of my car. Take better care of your belongings. And don’t put your business cards everywhere. It’s not everyone’s business where you work or what your contact information is.” He then shrugged, made the lollipop disappear between his lips again and turned aside to walk past you, but you held him back by his arm.

“Wait!”

Slowly, he shifted his head back to you and asked lazily, but clearly despite the sweet in his mouth, “What is it now?”

He shook your grip off, but you just bluntly asked the question that had been on your mind this entire morning, “Let me ride with you one more time, please?”

He drew his brows together as if you had just asked the dumbest thing a woman your age could ask a man. And apparently, judging by his answer, you had done exactly that.

“Are you nuts?”

“You see, I’m a journa-”

“You people really think you’re superior,” he scowled, and you were taken aback. “Making money off of people’s personal stories, aren’t you guys embarrassed? I shouldn’t have returned your notebook at all. You’re all just selfish bastards.”

With a lowly look at you, the Falcon put more distance between you two, and although you were frozen on the spot and dumbfounded at first, you didn’t want to let him leave like this. Clearly, he had a prejudice about you journalists that you had to resolve.

“I’m not one of those journalists that make money off other people!” you told him when you had caught up with him, but by then you were already outside on the streets. “I tell real, verified stories, and only what people allow me to write! Only the truth!” He didn’t reply, but just continued walking, and you decided to follow him. “I’ve never lied or done anything without consent to write my stories. And that is what my editor-in-chief is always criticizing since this apparently holds me back from getting a promotion. In his eyes, I’m a goody two-shoes who doesn’t take any risks. But the truth is… I can’t do that, I’m fine that way! I want to tell the stories with people, I don’t want to tell stories against people! And I think you guys’ story is one very worth telling!”

Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks and you nearly ran into him from behind. One a few inches separated you from each other when he turned around to you and dropped his head to lock gazes with you. “I don’t think what happened yesterday with you breaking into my car was something a goody two-shoes would actually do, but a ruthless journalist.”

You let out a desperate cry. “I told you over and over again, I just wanted to watch the race, then changed my mind and wanted to go home when you guys appeared, and then I panicked! That wasn’t planned, and regarding how close I was to dying, I would choose to not do that again. Which is why I’m asking you formally for permission.”

The Falcon remained silent and inwardly, you raised your hopes up. If you could tell a great story in cooperation with him under an alias and his other friends, that would definitely secure your promotion.

“No.”

Then, he continued his way.

“But why?” You quickly caught up to him again. “I wouldn’t tell you guys’ real names and only write what you want to have written.”

“I don’t have a story to tell except that we like racing.”

“But there must already be a story to that, right?” you tried again, keeping up with his steps this time. “Why did you start? How did you start? How did you learn all this, how do you feel when you’re in the car, how does this whole teamwork function, do your other friends and family know and what do they think about it… I have so many questions!”

“No word about my family,” he interrupted you, the candy now in his hand to speak more insistently, and it didn’t sound like a warning at this point, it sounded more like a threat. “Whatever you heard in the car, you better forget about it.”

A soft spot - you had already discovered that. It was none of your business if he didn’t want to let you in as a stranger, but you also couldn’t stop wondering. “I already got that memo yesterday. But-”

Again, he cut you off. “Great. And if I still catch you publishing an article on what happened yesterday or what you eavesdropped… well, I know where you work and live thanks to your negligence. Goodbye.”

He put the lollipop back into his mouth and disappeared in the crowd. You were tired of chasing after him again, and truth to be told, you could understand his point. Taking a deep breath in, you settled with the fact that you had to change your topic, the promotion gone from your sight again.

Of course you could have written the article without any additional info or the reveal that you were in the car yourself, but then it would only be that, an article. But you wanted a story.

_____

You were scrolling through the internet, looking for new jobs.

You figured that if you were to stick with your old position, you could as well try your luck somewhere else. Perhaps, there were open positions on the same level as your missed promotion for which you could prove that you were qualified or that didn’t require you to do illegal and unethical things.

There were only two days left until you had to hand in your proposal for the story that would cover the next issue, and you still hadn’t come up with something else.

By now, you could also pack your things and leave the city since living in the countryside didn’t sound so bad after all. Sitting by the window all day, watching nature? A dream. But you had chosen to return and to stay in the capital on purpose, a quiet, secluded life didn’t suit your current ideals. You were a writer after all, always seeking for new stories to tell, and you believed Seoul told endless ones.

The ringing doorbell had you spin around on your chair. Your room was small, but it offered enough space for all necessities that only one person needed, which was why you rarely had visitors. And as far as you remembered, you hadn’t invited anyone over.

“Who is there?” you asked carefully as you approached the door.

“It’s me.”

You furrowed. “Who?”

“Me.” Pause. “Jaehyun.”

The Falcon. Lollipop-dude. What could he possibly want after your last argument?

You opened the door, and there he stood in front of you, hair slicked back and donned all in black leather - a stark contrast to a few days ago, safe from the lollipop spinning in his mouth.

He peeked through the halfway opened door. “It’s tiny in here.”

You snapped, “Well, nobody asked you to come.”

“Can I come in anyway? We need to talk.”

“I didn’t write anything!”

He rolled his eyes as you opened the door. “I know, that’s not why I came here.”

You closed the entrance door behind you and watched him standing in your room, a bit too big for your furniture, and also a bit lost in this environment. You struggled biting down a snicker, because this picture was just so surreal.

“What is it?” he grumbled.

You folded your arms in front of your chest and shrugged. “Nothing. So tell me, what do you want from me that even made you come to my home?”

The Falcon turned around to your desk and stretched out his arm, taking something into his hand that must be your notebook he had returned to you. Holding it up, he showed it to you with his back still facing you and asked, “You still want to write this story of yours?”

Perplexed, you could only nod, but as you realized he couldn’t witness your confirmation, you quickly agreed vocally, “Yes! Yes, of course!”

“Three rules,” he then started before slowly shifting back into your sight, the lollipop still in his mouth, and you noted that everything for him came with terms and conditions. How exhausting, three rules again. “You won’t use anyone’s real names. You will only write what I allow you to write. You won’t mention my family or my background. I am allowed to read the entire thing before you publish it.”

“Those are four rules tho,” you remarked, and his eyes narrowed.

The lollipop stopped spinning in his mouth. “I’m outta here.”

“I agree, I agree!” you corrected yourself. “I agree with all the rules!”

“Fine.” He handed you over your notebook. “Now get dressed, we’re going racing. I hope you have black clothes and a leather jacket, because this…” He pointed at your light pink pajamas in which you had changed into as soon as you came home, “is not it.”

Your eyes widened. “Now?”

“Now,” he repeated.

You hesitated.

“Your last chance,” he pushed.

“I’ll get changed.”

____

“I thought I was going to be in the car.”

“Didn’t Jaehyun tell you?” Taeyong asked with a cocked brow.

“Tell me what?”

“That guy…” He touched his forehead and pointed at the seat next to him, urging you to sit down in front of the three monitors standing on the desk. “We need you to navigate.”

“Navigate what?”

“What did you two talk about on your ride here?”

You heaved up your shoulders and let them down again. “Actually nothing.”

The ride in the Falcon’s car to this suburb had been quiet with him focusing on driving and you concentrating on what you could make this story revolve around. No, you had barely talked and had each lived in their own mind.

“You’re going to navigate the race. Basically be his co-driver, but from here, not from inside the car like last time,” Taeyong explained thoughtfully with a smile. “Basically, you’ll do my job, I’ll only be your co-navigator and the team’s manager fully again.”

“Navigator? Eh? I thought I was only going to stay here, writing. Maybe even get the chance to be inside the car again, but since it’s against the official rules, I didn’t even think of that.”

“Wait, he really didn’t tell you anything?” You were both equally confused.

“So I’m not just… observing?”

“Absolutely not.” Taeyong determinedly shook his head. “To be part of the team means to contribute something, and for you to write this story about us, you will also have to do your part. Actually, no outsider is allowed to be with the team during the race, because the risk of cheating and manipulation is too high, so this was the only option. Jaehyun has already fallen out of grace, we cannot allow something negative to be associated with him again when his reputation is just getting repaired.”

You wanted to know why the Falcon had fallen out of grace in the first place, but you came to the conclusion that it was not your time to ask just yet.

“And why me then? Aren’t you guys enough?” You tried to conceal your rising panic. “I can just sit here and write if I’m not allowed inside the car. Maybe do some cleaning of the vehicle before you start or do some promotion work. Something I can actually do. Nobody will notice I don’t have a fixed role in the team. Besides, I don’t even know how to navigate.”

Taeyong tilted his head, his smile growing wider. “But you’ve done an exceptionally good job last time. It doesn’t matter who navigates, the person just has to be good.”

You felt your cheeks getting warm by this compliment. “I barely did anything…”

“And yet, it was enough for him to win after such a long time and have people start betting on him again. He really needs the money, so you better help him win as many races as possible in return for getting a good story.”

Why did it sound like a threat despite his sweet smile?

You sighed. “What do I have to do?”

“Take this.”

Taeyong handed you a headset and instructed you to wear it which would connect your voice to the radio in Jaehyun’s car. Through the first monitor, you had the dashcam’s point of view, which gave you the feeling of being directly in the passenger’s seat, that was not bad. The second monitor showed the car’s location in the city with all streets and buildings through a GPS while the third showed another map but with different red dots spread across the screen.

“Those are police stations and control points.” Taeyong let the tip of his index finger glide over the screen. “... of the ones we know. Spotting cars following Jaehyun as well as unplanned control points popping up will be another challenge. And these devices are police scanners. As you can guess from the name alone…”

At first, you had been excited, but as you got everything explained and shown, it dawned on you how close the driver and the navigator actually had to work, and that the driver had to trust the navigator literally with his life. You didn’t feel very comfortable with that much responsibility weighing on your shoulders. What if something went wrong and he got caught by the police? Would you land in jail then too?

“Today, it’s going to be a cannonball run with two others, meaning Jaehyun will start here, but finish at the other side of the city where most of the spectators are waiting. That’s why there is barely anyone here right now. Of course they want to see the winner. As opposed to last time’s run, this is about time rather than bringing as much distance between the cars as possible. And you know how much the sum is that you can win?” Taeyong’s sweet smile got replaced by a wicked grin. “40 million won.”

“I can’t do this, I’m sorry!”

You jumped out of your seat and ran towards the door, opening it up. The starting point was somewhere in the suburbs where you had never been before, but you didn’t care as you pulled out your phone once you inhaled fresh air that filled your heated lungs, ready to call a taxi.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

A huge figure blocked your way, and it only took you one look to first smell his lollipop, then recognize him. Damn, did he ever finish that sweet or did he have an entire stash in his pockets?

“I’m going home!”

“And why would you do that?”

“Because you lied to me! I can’t do this!”

Instead of talking you out of it, the Falcon raised his brows, then laughed, revealing his teeth between the red lollipop. “I knew it. Once a chickenshit, always a chickenshit.”

“A what?!” Your mouth stood agape, wondering whether you had heard right. “How can you say that?”

“I’m only speaking the truth. The first time, you also wanted to escape had it not been for us coming in your direction and forcing you to get into the car, right?”

You faltered. “Hm… okay, yes… but…”

He tilted his head and shrugged. “You dream about big stories, but this is what they will always stay for you: a dream. And you know why?” The Falcon leaned in, and you felt the sudden urge to withdraw, but you were completely petrified. “Because you don’t have the courage and the will to actually make your dreams come true. You're a big talker, a dreamer to put it nicely, but you’re not a doer, someone who gets shit done. I, in comparison, get shit done. And this is why I'm doing what I’m doing and you’re only watching from the sidelines, not being able to type down this story of yours like the goody two-shoes you are. Ever thought about the fact that you won’t get this promotion because you don’t deserve it?”

You weren’t aware that you had been holding your breath the entire time. Only when he approached you further and whispered in your ear, “Now go home, we don’t need someone like you here, we can do it without you”, you were able to exhale again, blood irregularly pumping through your veins while you clenched your fists.

With a fierce gaze thrown at him, you spun around on your heel, opened the door to the hall and yelled, “Taeyong, give me the headset and tell me what to do. For this round, I feel more comfortable with you next to me.” You threw one last look behind you at Jaehyun before you continued, “And next time, I’ll do it all myself.”

The door fell shut behind you, but you could have sworn that you saw the Falcon smiling.

This time though, genuinely. And perhaps partly relieved.

____

You were still shaking when you found yourself sitting in the Falcon’s car again, heading home in the middle of the night after your first race as a co-navigator. The other team members had brought you to the finish line in their car with them to celebrate, but there was not much reason for you to do so as of now. The shock was still sitting deeply with you.

“Everything okay?” the Falcon asked, but it still sounded like coming from another planet as your ears were ringing. “What are you even upset about? We won.”

“What I’m upset about?” you called out. “There could have been so many instances that could have gone totally wrong!”

“But nothing went wrong. Why are you always such a scaredy cat?” You didn’t look at him but straight out of the window. His eye roll was very visible in front of you though. “Just calm down, it’s irritating me.”

“I know everything ended well, but just imagine if a police car had suddenly pulled up. Or if someone had crossed the streets. Inside the car, it was exciting, but as an official navigator, you have so much responsibility…”

“Just enjoy the victory and the amount of money we’re going to share with you. Isn’t that what you wanted?” He murmured something about goody two-shoes again, but by now you were good at ignoring that. “Geez, did you ever have one single day in your life that you could freely enjoy without having a stick so far up your ass? Your poor boyfriend.”

It was the most nonchalant way in which you had ever witnessed the Falcon talk, even though he had mostly said nonsense.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah, I wonder why.”

You gasped. “Excu-”

The next moment, you tasted something sweet on your tongue. “Close your mouth and suck.”

Instinctively, you did as you had been told as you didn’t know how else to react. The Falcon kept driving the car through the city with his eyes fixated on the road in front of him as though he hadn’t just pulled the lollipop out of his mouth and nearly shoved it straight down your throat.

“Sugar helps me calm down and the motions I need to make distract me from unwanted thoughts,” he admitted, and his voice suddenly sounded so vulnerable that you didn’t dare to respond. “I think you need that now too.”

You slumped back into your seat, suddenly very quiet. You tried not to think much about the fact that his saliva was now in your mouth too, and that you didn’t feel repulsed at the thought at all. He had been right after all. Your hands were not shaking anymore.

“The fact that I participate in those races is because I need the money,” he continued and you somehow sensed that he was currently glad that you weren’t able to look him straight in the face in case you caught his true emotions mirrored there. “And I wanted you to be my navigator, because you had done a very good job the first time around. During the races, you appear to be panicked and disheveled, but you are actually calm and collected, always knowing what you’re doing and never doubting yourself. From the first moment on, I saw much potential in you, and I needed someone like that to strengthen my team.”

“... to win the races,” you finished what he probably thought to himself in silence.

“Exactly.”

“So to you, it’s all about winning?” Your mouth tasted sweet with each syllable, and only now you recognized which flavor that was: cherry. “You wanted me in your team, because you assumed I could contribute to your series of wins?”

“That’s my only life goal. Winning as many games as possible for the money.”

You didn’t know why his answer bothered you. Weren’t you also only on board because you needed to write about this experience to ensure you climb the ladder of success which would eventually also result in money and fame? You weren’t much different from each other. He probably was only a bit more reckless in money making than you.

“I understand,” you agreed when it eventually clicked. He was trying to fool you again, so you corrected yourself, “No, I don’t understand. The way you spoke to your sister… it’s not only about money for you.”

The Falcon scoffed. “Why do you feel the need to peg me as some kind of deep character? Because I don’t fit the narrative of your story?”

This stung. Most likely because he was right. People wanted to read about deep characters, if not about a hero, then about an antagonist who told them how he had become an antagonist. But nobody wanted to read about a greedy, selfish person.

“So the main character of my story is only after money,” you concluded dryly.

“Yes, this is something you can mention in your story. The person you write about is a selfish jerk who only thinks about money.” He let out a laugh, but it rather sounded rather bitter than genuine. “I know it’s not that very deep of a story, but never told you that what you would get was interesting.”

The lollipop clicked against your teeth as you replied, “No worries. I’m a professional.”

He wanted to make himself fit his very own narrative, and you needed him to fit your own narrative. Right now, there was no character to your story.

At home, despite the ungodly hour and your clash of interests, you typed down a summary of your story and handed it in the very next day, even before the deadline. This would be your story, one way or another. You were going to make the best out of it, with the Falcon’s cooperation or without.

____

“He is very popular,” you remarked.

“Oh, he sure is.” Taeyong thrusted a drink into your hand. “He just doesn’t like this attention at all.”

You watched the Falcon getting approached by both men and women who were desperate to talk to him while you watched with your new team from the sidelines. After another race together that the Falcon had won, Taeyong had invited you to something like an after party in some other team member’s big house. You had to work the next morning and didn’t want to stay long, but you supposed you had to do it for the experience and more substance for your article. The more you had to write about, the better.

“Can you imagine that only a few months ago, it was entirely different? Everybody hated him.”

“Hm?” You snapped your head to Taeyong. “Because of the accident he was involved in?”

The look in his eyes was impenetrable, but it softened when he watched his friend. “Yes, but the details to that… I’m sure he’ll tell you himself when he feels the time is right.”

Admittedly, you knew quite a bit already by just going around and talking to people, you were just keeping it a secret since you didn’t want to come off to the team as too nosy or pushy. But none of the spectators you had come to have a short conversation with knew exactly what kind of accident that had been. You had tried really hard to gather all the information, but they just differed too much from each other.

When one assumed the Falcon had hit someone with his car and drove away, the second guessed he had run into someone, but brought them to the hospital. And the third option, and that was the worst, those people believed he had killed someone in that accident. The newspapers that had reported on this case hadn’t mentioned anything more. Just the fact that the Falcon had caused an accident in a suburb that involved an innocent passerby. And that was still enough to fall out of grace in this community, that was how high their ethical standards were.

You wondered why, with such an incident happening that involved all kinds of trope that would make people drawn to it, there hadn’t been any follow-up reports by newspapers and magazines.

Taeyong had once let slip that Jaehyun had only been able to make a comeback after this incident because he had challenged the Cheetah. Apparently, nobody ever did that. And now you were even more curious about the Cheetah, the Falcon’s biggest opponent.

From what you had heard, officially and unofficially, he won all the races and was nearly untouchable. He only challenged someone just to show off how remarkable he was, but nobody ever challenged him. That was an unspoken rule - except for when you wanted to set yourself up for humiliation. And the Falcon had done exactly that.

You looked at your team which was already top notch with a driver who was nearly impeccable. You couldn’t imagine a team that was better. Apart from the one you worked the closest with, Taeyong, there was Johnny, the mechanic, and the one which they call the investigator, though you just believed that he was a hacker in reality - Yuta.

You had seen and worked with them before all the time, but getting to know them privately in peace made you realize one thing: These were all just normal guys who knew each other from university with a not so legal side hustle. They were splitting the winner’s entire sum equally among all of them, and even if they didn’t want that much as the Falcon was the one driving and inheriting the most dangerous part, the latter always insisted on it, claiming they weren’t a work environment, but friends.

The fact that you were now a part of this close knit group, made you feel a bit awkward as you didn’t know them that well yet, but the other fact that they had welcomed you with open arms, safe from the Falcon so far though, and already saw you as one of them, warmed your heart.

Even though the money had sounded very tempting as well and you surely always got your fair share of the work that paid more than a few bills, you were surprised how little it meant to you in the end. You couldn’t really pinpoint it. The races with the team… the preparation, the process, the talks in between, the shared laughter, the banter… you enjoyed this way much more than holding the money in your hands by the next day. It meant so less when everything else hoarded a much bigger feeling that was still so unfamiliar to you, but very overwhelming.

“Ah, there he is,” Johnny whispered to you and pointed at a tall guy, surrounded by other young men and a woman. “The Cheetah and his team.”

“That’s the Cheetah?” you asked. “The one he’s challenged?”

“The best racer out there and someone Jaehyun could never beat, someone no one usually challenges and beats.” There it was. Now, you didn’t need to feign lack of knowledge anymore. “Hopefully, until now. It’s about a lot of money and the people are already anticipating it. It’s gonna be the race of the year. Maybe, Jaehyun will take his crown.”

You hadn’t known it was going to be this big and anticipated. Now, you also understood why people had welcomed the Falcon back despite whatever everyone imagined the accident to have involved. The best and most popular racer against the underdog who had fallen deep, wanting to rise again? That surely made a headline.

“The woman in that team, is she also a navigator?”

“Yes.” Taeyong nodded. “Women are mostly navigators, there rarely are female racers. As of today, I only know of two who are still active. But it’s really hard to recruit women for your team, no matter which position.”

“Because the job is illegal and hard?”

He nodded again. “Women usually don’t want to be involved in illegal activities.”

“... I can relate.”

All eyes now landed on you and you shrugged. “I just really need this promotion, you know that, guys. Just once in life, I want to be fortunate and successful.”

You were glad you could be totally open with them and not get judged, because you all were here for the same reason. This illegal sport benefitted all of you in some way.

“Just like I need money to finance my studies,” Taeyong said.

And Yuta added, “I really want to found my own company in the future.”

“And one day, I really want to move back to the US,” Johnny finished.

You were only people with dreams and ambitions. If you did things like these with all the precautions and didn’t hurt anyone, no matter how selfish or selfless, then was it really wrong to chase after your longings? You still gave the Falcon the benefit of doubt over the incident. Your team was fair and good, you wanted to believe so hard in every single one of them.

Knowing his friends and what they did for each other, you now were a hundred percent sure that there was a deep reason the Falcon always put his life on line too, and that he wasn’t as reckless and as money-hungry as he had first made himself out to be. None of them were.

Taeyong studied to help out his family, because his father couldn’t work anymore. Yuta wanted to open up a company, because his family got robbed of theirs. Johnny wanted to go back to the US to take care of his mom.

“I first thought it all boiled down to money, that glued you together,” you thought out loud. “But I was so wrong.”

It was way more than about money. It was about friendship, family and dreams. Of some things, you had only ever heard of and never experienced yourself - and most likely never would. And as this thought settled, you realized that you were the one doing all this solely for fame. You were the selfish, money-fixated person in this group. You were the one wrong here.

“It all comes down to trust in the end,” Johnny complemented. “Without a tight-knit team that doesn’t trust each other, you cannot make it.”

“But why me?” You frowned. “I didn’t do anything to earn your trust. I’m just here, because you caught me.”

“Oh, but you did win our trust!” Taeyong then objected and Johnny and Yuta nodded along. “With the way you helped Jaehyun when you were stuck in his car, that was the first race he had won after a long while and which has restored his reputation. You didn’t help him because of the money, I heard the entire thing.”

They trusted you? Why was your chest grabbed by a feeling so overwhelming like it was going to explode at any moment? Perhaps, at this point, you could imagine being friends with them too eventually… if they wanted to still have someone as selfish as you around.

“I didn’t want to see him lose,” you reluctantly answered. “At that moment, I didn’t think about a story. I just cared for his sister… and for him.”

Because you never had had the experience of being in a real family, you wanted to protect everyone that still had one. You remembered the phone call the Falcon had made, that he had promised to always come back to her. Basically, you still knew nothing about him, but what you knew was that he was way more than he made himself out to be.

You didn’t need to invent a story about him to fit your narrative. He had fitted it all along. You saw it clearly now.

“Okay, enough with the long faces, guys!”

Johnny threw his arms around all of you and huddled you all together.

“You’re suffocating me,” Yuta complained, though the playfulness clearly stood out in his voice.

“People are looking,” Taeyong worried, but you couldn’t help but to chuckle.

“So what?” Johnny let you all go again and shrugged. “How about a round of drinks for us? I think we all need it now.”

“I’ll get the drinks.”

You all shifted your head in unison and saw the Falcon having moved to your group, no sign of other people anymore, although you could have sworn he was swarmed by them only a few minutes ago.

“What about your fans?” you wanted to know from him and joked, “They all got an autograph already?”

His reply was dry with a gaze just as similar, “I told them to leave me alone.”

“Jeez, Jaehyun,” Taeyong complained, “with a behavior like this, no one is going to bet on you in the future.”

“They shouldn’t bet on who’s the nicest anyway.”

Yes, the Falcon wouldn’t be the winner of a be-nice-award. But when he volunteered to get the drinks and naturally included you, you figured that he didn’t need to voice his kindness. He rather showed it.

____

“Why will you drive me home? Didn’t you drink?”

“Because it’s late and dark, and I need to go home too. And of course I didn’t drink alcoholic beverages this entire time, are you nuts? Now, get in.”

You looked out of the passenger’s seat’s window when the car started rolling, lights flashing by in a blur as you drove through the streets at a normal speed, and yawned. “The party was just getting to be fun, you didn’t have to leave with me.”

“Just take this free ride, will you?”

“Okay.”

You listened to the Falcon’s lollipop clicking against his teeth when he moved it in his mouth and you yawned again.

“I spotted the Cheetah earlier tonight,” you said. “What’s the deal with this big race that’s coming up?”

“So the guys told you, hm.” The movements of the lollipop stick stopped. “Our history runs deep. To sum it up quickly: I can win against anyone, but never against him. I need to break this curse.”

“I get it,” you declared and leaned back in your seat. “You never beat him, so the rage waves just get stacked on top of each other, and the more races you lose, the more you want to win. Just like we journalists fight to have our stories be headliners every month and there is always this one person who snatches them the majority of the time.”

The Falcon sighed. “A weird and out of place comparison, but I guess you’re not entirely wrong.”

You seamlessly continued, “When was your first race against him?”

“I guess when I turned 21. That’s when I started racing.”

“Wow, so many years and no win against him? It must be frustrating.”

“Yeah, just rub more salt into the wound,” he muttered, a bit offended, “but as I said, this is going to end in a few weeks. He won’t be Kind of the Streets anymore. It will be me who will take the crown.”

“King of the Streets?” You asked. “Is that the official title?”

“Just a label we throw around in the community every now and then, but nobody gets literally crowned, if you know what I mean. He’s just been inheriting this title forever, and I’m sick of it.”

“Did you only start because you wanted to win the title?”

“What? Of course not! I started because my fa-” He stopped. “Hey, I know what you’re doing!”

You giggled. “Don’t worry. I didn’t ask you as a journalist, I ask you as your teammate, your navigator. We have made rules and I will stick to them. Is it too much to ask for, getting to know you? We spend so much time with each other, we trust each other, don’t we?”

He became silent. You got him. “I guess so.”

This reply surprised you very much as you hadn’t expected it. But you regained your composure very quickly despite the feeling still lingering in your chest. “How many siblings do you have... Jaehyun?”

It was the first time that you vocally said and thought about his real name. You had been avoiding it, but you couldn’t keep calling him the Falcon. He was human too, although he would remain anonymous in your story.

Jeahyun paused, but eventually replied, “You already know of my younger sister. She’s the only one. I live with her and my mom.”

“How old is your sister?”

“She’s fourteen.”

“So, in middle school.”

“Exactly.”

Where was his father that he had nearly mentioned? You wanted to ask this and much more, but the way his voice had changed by the end, you knew that this was it for today. And it was okay. He should only share what he felt like sharing. Instead, you decided to tell him more about yourself.

“I live alone. My parents divorced when I was a little child, and since my mom moved abroad with a new man directly after, I stayed with my dad. But he was addicted to booze. I had to grow up fast, because whatever role a parent usually played, he wasn’t in the position to take over it. One day, when I was the same age as your sister, he didn’t come home.”

Jaehyun breathed in deeply, and you sensed that he was about to drop a comment, but held himself back from doing so at the last second. You were unsure whether this was a sign to continue or not, but you did anyway.

“He got caught in a hit and run accident. He was the driver. Despite me telling him every day to cut out on the booze or at least never get into the car with alcohol in his system, he always did. And on that fateful day, he took an entire family with him.”

Having this story sealed in your heart for such a long time, you didn’t expect the syllables to fall from your lips so smoothly as though you were retelling someone else’s past and not your personal one. After all these years, you felt nothing anymore.

“Your question from before we got into the car…” Jaehyun started, but refrained himself from ending the sentence.

“If you had drunk something, I wouldn’t have gotten in the car with you. And If you had drunk something during a race, I would have quit right away.” You smiled mildly. “I’m relieved your addiction is lollipops.”

“Why had you agreed on being my navigator?” was Jaehyun’s next question. “You should resent people like me.”

“I can’t resent the world just because I resent my father. I want you to always come home to your sister like you promised her.”

He fell into silence. Perhaps, you had crossed a line, perhaps not. But you wanted him to know that you cared. You collected stories every day from different people and they all affected you, every single fate, more or less. But for him, you didn't care like a journalist for a subject. You cared like a friend.

“I want that too,” Jaehyun eventually responded. “Always coming back home to her.”

You smiled. “Then let’s work together well.”

____

With every race, you got calmer and more professional, and even though you had lost two races so far - as constant wins were an exception anyway except for when you were called the Cheetah - Jaehyun won with you, his team, almost all races, and he rose to the top again, shining as the Falcon in all his glory.

You still weren’t able to shake off your nervousness and slight panic entirely, but you got better in managing those feelings and most importantly, you didn't let it seep through the headset for Jaehyun to feel.

Through the next races, your connection only got stronger as you figured out a way to work silently and peacefully with each other. You even bonded over unfunny jokes and small conversations you held in the car when he drove you home, which he always insisted on - most likely because you were a woman and it was usually the middle of the night.

Jaehyun’s car was his safe space, because he knew whatever you talked about, even though most of the time it wasn’t even something important, it would never leave his vehicle without his permission.

“I never drink alcohol,” he suddenly told you on one of these rides home when you both got out of the car as you had decided to make a short stopover. “I never know when my sister or mom will need me since my father is not here anymore.”

It was the first time in a long while you talked about something other than the races, teams, your job and other trivial things. You had rarely talked about his personal topics ever since that one time. You were happy to hear that you finally reached this point again, and the conversation was even opened up by him.

Jaehyun seated himself on the car’s hood and you carefully crawled up to him. He made space for you and reached out his hand when you teetered, securing you while you settled right next to him. After having taken your place, you followed his gaze and encountered a view that you hadn’t seen before.

He had wanted to drive out of the city after this race just to clear his head, and you had complied despite this late hour. Now, you were watching the sunrise from the top of a hill on an early summer morning, wondering how a moment like this, that you had never dreamed of before, was suddenly making you so happy.

“Where is your father?” you finally dared to ask, because the moment felt right.

“In prison for fraud,” Jaehyun deadpanned. “He committed a huge tax evasion crime with his own company, not only taking the business down, but all of our savings as well along with the family’s reputation.”

You were shocked. “I don’t know what to say… I’m so sorry, that’s horrible.”

“He consciously did that, knowing exactly the outcome of his actions, what it’d cause us, what it would make of us.” His blood was boiling, it was palpable. “And now, my mother is working two jobs just to make the ends meet and pay off the debt because of this selfish, money-hungry bastard.”

Jaehyun… was he racing to support his family too, just like his friends? Because a son who described his father as a selfish, money-hungry bastard couldn’t be one himself.

“I guess we both grew up with father figures we couldn’t really rely on.”

On top of the car were sitting two people with inner children that had been abandoned by their parents at some point. But you both had learned to make it through life without them. Screw them, you were going to make it better than your parents.

“I don’t want my sister to grow up thinking all men are like our father. I’m not the perfect example for an older brother, but I would do everything to give her the life she wants, such as illegal car racing just to open up the possibility to her of enrolling into her preferred university.”

So that was why and always, it was about winning races for him. Even though he had claimed otherwise in the beginning, he was not someone superficial who only cared about fame, you had always known. He cared about his family, and friends. And, as someone who hadn’t grown up with the first, it was pretty touching that a brother would do that for his sister. Nobody had ever done that for you and you didn’t have someone who would even consider doing this for you, too.

“You sister must be really proud of you.” You smiled. “You’re a good person, Jaehyun.”

Suddenly, he turned cold. “Easy for you to say, knowing only this side of me.”

These words hurt you after spending quite a lot of time with each other.

You had gotten to know his friends and now some of his backstory. You knew you were in no position to feel this way considering that he didn’t see you as his friend yet apparently. Still, it stung somehow.

“When I was your sister’s age, I would have loved to have an older brother by my side who cares so much about me. I was all alone, but your sister has you. Whether you see yourself as a good person or not, Jaehyun, it doesn’t matter to your sister at all. You’re good in her book, that’s enough.”

“I appreciate you saying that.” He was being sincere, judging by his voice. “My sister doesn’t endorse my… side hustle. But she accepts it without a complaint, because she knows that’s what gets us through. My mom on the other hand… You know how moms are. So we keep it a secret from .”

No, you actually didn’t. And Jaehyun only realized that when he saw how your face fell. “I shouldn’t h-”

Yet, you tried to overplay it with a shrug and a wave. “It’s okay. It slips off most people’s mind, because having a family is something we suggest everyone has. I don’t blame anyone for thinking the same about me.”

“It’s not okay, I’m sorry for speaking so nonchalantly,” Jaehyun replied determinedly, taking you aback. “I will pay more attention to what I’m saying from now on.”

Nobody had ever reacted that way to such a sand trap. You were really surprised how understanding he actually was. “It’s not like I grew up not knowing what a family should be like,” you continued. “I saw it in the foster family that took me in until I left high school. I saw it in my friend’s family who I spent most days with. I saw it walking through the mall passing by parents with their happy children. I know exactly what it should be like having a family, I just never had one of my own.” You dropped your head, tilting the corners of your lips slightly upwards. “But one day, I dream of having one and do it all better.”

The silence that followed made you realize how bright outside it had already gotten, and also that you had just confessed your deepest wish to someone who didn’t even consider you his friend. It had something slightly embarrassing, but also comforting, because you knew he would understand you nonetheless.

But Jaehyun didn’t say anything back directly, and you felt a bit lost. It wasn’t like you didn’t feel validated or overlooked, the gaze in his eyes reflected nothing but understanding after all. Perhaps, he just wasn’t as good at expressing his thoughts as you. And that was fine as you were a writer after all. As long as you could comprehend what seemed to go on his head, you were fine with the way you communicated. It was this fine bond between the racer and the navigator.

“Get up, we’re getting breakfast,” Jaehyun eventually prompted.

It sounded great after a good race so you didn’t complain. “Okay!”

Jaehyun was already back on the ground while you still struggled getting off the hood without slipping. That was until you felt two strong hands gripping onto your sides and heaving you up as though you were as light as a feather. You could have sworn when you got inside the car, his hand lingered on your waist a bit longer than it needed to. But it could all have been in your tired mind as well.

____

You hadn’t known breakfast would be taken in Jaehyun’s house.

“Please come in and eat, dear, we have enough!”

His mother was a cordial person whose smile brightened up the entire home upon entering. You instantly felt welcomed by her cheerful personality.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” you greeted her back and kind of awkwardly followed her into the kitchen where she had already set up the entire breakfast table for four people after Jaehyun had called her from the car to inform them they would have a guest over.

Different main and side dishes were presented, and you didn’t know where to look let alone what to eat first. You could tell Jaehyun’s mother had gone beyond and above to prepare this breakfast as he had given you a heads up that she usually left very early and came home late just to sleep the little time she had remaining. Yet, she never failed to eat breakfast with her children or at least make food for them every single day. That was motherly love.

You suddenly felt a wave of warmth spreading through your body. She wasn’t your own mother, but right now, you felt very much like part of a family you had never gotten to experience yourself. And Jaehyun had wanted to show you.

Tears welled up behind your eyes as you took a seat at the opposite of him, and you tried to hide your sentiment, yet still sneaked a look at him. His soft gaze, he hid behind his long fringe. His caring demeanor, he hid behind his rough words. His apparent worries, he hid behind a long scowl. But this was all a facade for what he truly was: a loving son and brother and so much more than a money-hungry, selfish racer.

“Did you guys study hard for the exams the entire night?” Jaehyun’s mom asked and you tilted your head in confusion.

“Yes, mom,” Jaehyun replied. “But she’s not a student anymore, I just picked her up on her way to work.”

She turned to you. “Really? What occupation do you inherit, dear?”

You looked into Jaehyun’s direction for approval, but he remained silent and nodded, so you told the truth, “I’m a journalist.”

“Really?” She clapped into her hands and laughed. “Jiyeong wants to become a journalist too!”

Before you could ask who Jiyeong was, a female voice already asked, “What’s with me?”

She didn’t look much like her brother. In fact, from the moment you saw her, you thought she was the spitting image of her mother, both very beautiful.

“Jaehyun’s friend here is a journalist, Jiyeong. Isn’t that amazing?”

“Really?” Jiyeong’s eyes started to sparkle and she approached you, seating herself right next to you. “I’m editor-in-chief at our school’s newspaper! Where do you work? I read almost all newspapers and magazines on a daily basis.”

While you were explaining to Jiyoung what articles were written by you of which she indeed remembered one or two, their mother placed rice in each of your bowls along with Jaehyun’s help.

You now knew why he had wanted specifically you and came back to recruit you not only once, but twice. The first time, he had most likely not thought about involving you yet. With his sister being into journalism, he knew how important your notebook was to you and genuinely only wanted to return it. The second time, he actually came around and wondered why not combine your talent for navigation with your occupation and get at least something out of your deal, not only for you, but for him - and his little sister - too.

“My dream is to attend Ehwa Woman’s university,” Jiyoung told you when you all started eating. “Where did you study?”

You smiled. It had been your dream to go to Ehwa too. But you didn't have money or relatives who could have supported you, so you attended a university far away from Seoul that was cheap in comparison. “I went to Chonnam University in Gwangju.”

“And you came back here and made it so far! I really look up to you!”

You flushed as you had always felt inferior to your colleagues who had attended the big and popular universities in Seoul, but Jaehyun’s sister not judging you by that but complimenting your actual skills touched you very much.

“Now, let her eat, Jiyeong! She hasn’t even come to touch her food yet! Please dig in, dear before it gets cold!”

It was your first breakfast together with loving people in many, many years.

When you stood outside with Jaehyun, waiting for his sister to get her backpack for school so that he could drive her there, you told him, “Thank you for introducing me to your mom and sister. I know why you did that.”

Because he wanted to show you what it felt like to have an actual, loving family. Because he wanted to show you that your work was never for vain. He had eventually become your friend, and you his. Yes, friend. But you didn’t speak it out.

“When I found out that you were a journalist, I immediately thought great, I need to introduce you to my sister!... But journalists also destroyed my life by writing articles not only about my dad’s crimes, but also about me,” Jaehyun explained, and you nodded, knowing it was about the mystery incident he had yet to tell you. “My sister never lost focus of her dream though. She told me she wanted to be one of the good ones, no defamation, always after the truth. So when you told me you were one of these people too, I thought that maybe, I can trust you after all, even with my life.”

“And you can!” You touched his arm in a gesture of comfort, and although his eyes widened, he didn’t pull away. “I stand by what we’ve promised to each other. I won’t publish anything without your consent. And if there is anything in the past that I have to clear up for you and your family, I will do so too.”

“Mhmm.” You saw him struggling through his mien, but he didn’t respond, apparently still needing to make his mind up. If so, you let him.

“So, what do you study? You never told me.”

“Nothing.” He heaved his shoulders and slowly dropped them again.

You frowned. “But didn’t you-”

“I dropped out last semester right after the incident.”

“But your mo-”

“- doesn’t know. Neither does my sister.”

You didn’t want to judge, that was not your job, as a journalist and as a friend. So you asked, “Why?” although you could most likely already make out the answer.

“We can’t afford it as of right now, so I’m postponing my graduation. I definitely want to return, but as always, it boils down to money,” Jaehyun clarified. “I want to do it better than my father. I want to found my own company too and provide to my family the life they deserve. Even if the path to this aim might not be all legal, I promised to myself to leave this part of me behind once I’m there.”

“...And I will do everything in my might to win every race for as long as we’re working together, Jaehyun.”

“For my sister? Or for your story?”

“Not only for me, but also for your sister,” you repeated, “for your mom and for y-”

You swallowed the last part, but the way his features softened suddenly, he might have understood nonetheless, and it made your heart flutter. Perhaps, in his eyes, you were now friends as well.

____

“There is nothing personal in this story.”

You felt defeated. You had hoped, with handing in your first draft, your editor-in-chief would be totally invested in the story as well, encouraging you to continue and maybe even compliment you on the premise. Instead, while reading through all the pages with you sitting anxiously in front of him, his facial expression had fallen more and more.

“What do you mean?”

“The beginning is very intriguing with you sitting in the car, racing with him. It’s perfect, the reader gets thrown right into the story. But after that?” He shrugged and threw the papers back on his desk. “Nothing. No feelings, no emotions, just scenery description and a lot of theoretical stuff. Nobody cares about how the navigation system works or how the cars are tuned.”

“Oh, I thought it might be interesting to read how the team stays connected and what makes the cars so special.”

“Nobody cares,” he retorted dryly. “That’s not the stories people like to read. They can google all that stuff.”

Although it hurt your feelings, you had to silently admit that he was right. You hadn't given much away in the article about how Yuta worked behind the scenes or what the navigation system was really capable of according to Taeyong, but had to google a lot of things yourself too. You had wanted to give as little personal details away as possible, but apparently, it was too less. Your article was just boring.

“There is no common thread,” he criticized sharply. “Do you want to write about yourself being involved, about the sports in common or about the Falcon? Because right now, it’s all of this and nothing at the same time. If you’re that involved, write about what you do, how you learned it, about your feelings during the races. If you write about the sports, interview other teams, the spectators, dive into the history. If you center the plot around the Falcon, what’s his background, what does he race for, what’s his aim?”

You exactly sensed which direction he wanted to push you. “I’ll write abo-”

“I think,” he cut you off, “if you want to make it a headliner, you have to focus on the Falcon.” There it was. “Why did the Falcon really pause for so long? Is it true that he had caused an accident during a race? What really happened back then? How did he regain his fame? What made people change their minds? And most importantly, is he going to win and what will he do with the prize money? These are the questions that intrigues the reader. They want emotions, passion, they need to feel something while reason. Right now, everything I’m feeling is my hunger since it’s almost lunchtime.”

You purposely overheard his subtle taunt. “Those are very personal questions that he doesn’t want to talk about.”

“Well, then make him.”

You kept it to yourself that you already knew most answers. “As journalists, we also have to respect the people’s privacy and opinions.”

“Then make the entire story anonymous with all the personal information gathered,” he proposed. “It’s not less personal, but no names are given away.”

“I already plan on doing that.”

“So what’s the problem?”

”People will still know, that’s how known he is. I cannot reveal things he doesn’t want me to reveal.”

Either way, anonymous, with his alias or even real name written in the article - it would hurt him all the same. It was his personal story, his family, his friends. It made him beautifully human, but also painfully fragile. It was his story to tell when the time was right, when he decided to do so, not you.

“Very well.” Your boss got up from his seat and took his jacket. “You can publish it like this if you want. I guess for a nice closing story at the end of the magazine, it's enough.”

For the first time in your life, you were having a clash of interest. There it was in front of you, your dream job position, so close if you were only selfish enough. And behind you stood the man whose trust you had just gained, begging you to respect his past wounds. What would you do?

____

It wasn’t easy, balancing racing by night and working by day. Oftentimes, you didn’t get more than four hours of sleep, spending time at home after work just to shower, change and then leave for a race again. You didn’t complain. You never did, because you enjoyed it very much. The newly formed friendship between you and Jaehyun’s team was something that brightened up your day as you had never experienced this kind of bond before. But you also didn’t leave your aim out of sight.

With Jaehyun’s rising popularity though also came people who voiced out their doubts about him even louder. You had just finished this night’s race and were waiting for Jaehyun to take you home, already looking forward to a bit of alone time with him, when you overheard a group of young men passing by.

“I don’t care what others think or whether he’s popular,” one of them said. “As long as he’s staying silent, he’s guilty in my book.”

“In mine too,” the second chimed in. “Why has he never said anything on that topic? And now, only because he’s winning so often and challenged the Cheetah, everybody seems to have forgotten about it? Bullshit.”

Your fingers clenched by the time the third one commented, “Don’t worry guys, he’ll fall out of grace as far as he has fallen. It’s always like this.”

“Hey!” Now, you couldn’t listen to this conversation any longer and stepped out of your dark corner. “Do you feel proud, talking like this about a person you don’t know?”

They stopped in their tracks and turned around to you. “And who are you?”

“Oh, I think she’s their navigator!”

One of them stepped in front of you and grinned. “Then, you must know the truth if you’re in the team and fight for him so desperately, right?”

The other two followed suit and laughed in unison. “Or are you in love with him and would defend him even though he’s guilty?”

You realized that you actually didn’t care about the truth anymore. You didn’t care when or whether Jaehyun would tell you one day at all. But that didn’t withhold you from defending him like your life depended on it. Someone who loved his family and friends so dearly, who always paid much attention to the street and passerbyers, who had to talk you into taking a detour just because there was a crowd of people he had to race by… you would always defend your racer.

“The truth is none of your business,” you said confidently. “Do I ask about what mistakes you’ve made? A person I do not know personally? What has this got anything to do with his performance anyway? Either you bet on him or you don’t, but nobody forces you. He doesn’t need your dumbass opinions to win, he doesn’t even know who you are.”

“Hey…”

You couldn’t tell who had spoken up, but you didn’t care much as you just hit your stride. “How about you get in the car and try to do the things these racers do? I bet you wouldn’t even last a few minutes on these streets. It must be so peaceful, watching from the sidelines with your big mouths as long as you’re not the ones in action, am I right?”

“Hey!”

Little did you know that the voice had come from behind you. Only when you felt an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to a chest whose scent smelled very familiar, it dawned on you that no one in the group had tried to speak up, but it had been Jaehyun who was standing behind you, most likely all this time already.

But he wasn’t mad, even though your cheeks were burning. “Listen to my girl. If you dare to raise your voice against her again, you’ll be the ones the newspapers will be writing about the next day. Understood? Now, good riddance.” One opened their mouth to retort, but Jaehyun didn’t let him. “I SAID GOOD RIDDANCE!”

They were out of your sight quicker than you could process, and Jaehyun let go of your shoulder the same moment.

“Come,” he urged you, and you silently followed him to the car. “I have to show you something.”

After you were driving for a little while all in awkward silence, you finally dared to ask, “Where are we going?”

“I’ll show you the truth.”

From the way his lollipop clicked against his teeth, you could only sense Jaehyun’s anxiety, and you wondered what got him so worked up even though he had won the race. You could only think of one reason. Perhaps, today was the day.

“Does it have something to do with what happened back then?”

“Yes.”

“Did I say something wrong earlier?”

Immediately, the clicking noises stopped, but he gripped the steering wheel even tighter. “You’ve gotten everything wrong.”

Your stomach dropped and you suddenly felt so nauseous. “Jaehyun… what was wrong about it?”

He was visibly upset now. “How can you say all these things about me?”

“These.. things? What did I say that was wrong? I don’t understand. I meant every word and I don’t care whether you heard them or not, because they are the truth.”

“You don’t know the truth.” He added, “Yet.”

“Even if… There was nothing wrong with what I said. You don’t need them to win, you don’t need spectators and betters. You only need yourself and your team. Everything else doesn’t matter.”

He didn’t reply, but kept his eyes fixated on the street in front of him. Not much talking, but many kilometers later, you suddenly came to a halt in a narrow street under a light post in a quiet neighborhood in the suburbs. To your left and right were single family houses and nobody was in your field of vision at this ungodly hour.

“Is this…?”

He took the lollipop out of his mouth and inhaled deeply. “This is where it happened.”

“Oh. Jaehyun…” You had been prepared to be taken here, but now that you were actually at the location, you didn’t know what to say.

“This is the spot where I collided with a pedestrian.” Even though he didn’t stutter or pause, you still realized how much mental strength it had taken him to not only bring you here, but to also speak about the incident - probably for the first time ever since it had happened. “He didn’t die on the spot. He survived, actually. That much, I know after I asked around in the hospital. I don’t know who he was, where he was going, whether he had family or other people who cared. I just called for an ambulance, drove my car away and remained hidden until they arrived. Then, I fled. This is the truth.”

You couldn’t deny that you were relieved he didn’t do a hit and run. You were also relieved that nobody had died and that the truth behind the accident was something that wouldn’t shake your friendship to the core. Of course it was bad, and he knew it himself. He’d always known and deeply regretted it, every single day. You saw it clearly now.

“I believe you.”

In moments of panic, humans were indeed most likely to do things they were not proud of, things totally wrong they wished to change later if only they could travel back in time. Things, they would have handled differently if they hadn’t panicked or were too scared. Jaehyun wasn’t an exception, although the baggage he had to carry was heavier than most else’s.

Humans were not perfect. For him, it all started with his not so perfect father and the not so perfect life he was living, leading him to do not so perfect things to save what was still salvageable.

“For one hot minute,” Jaehyun continued, “I really thought about leaving him there and fleeing as fast as possible. I couldn’t go to jail like my father and leave my mom and sister all to themselves, dropping them entirely too. I couldn’t get caught, so I did my best to prevent this.” He laughed, bitterly. “After all, I am what people think of me. So your words mean nothing.”

“My words mean nothing?” It hurt. “It’s easy to tell someone how to behave when the incident has already taken place. But at the end of the day, we can never be sure how we, ourselves, would have reacted or what we would have thought at that moment. You thought about your mom and sister, but you thought about the accident victim too. You wanted to do the best for both. So you reacted accordingly to what was best in your mind.”

“Still, I’m not the person you painted me to be. I nearly killed someone in a race. And you know why? Because I thought taking a shortcut through a neighborhood would make me win the race back then. It’s not forbidden, but this is the reason we racers usually never do that.”

That was why he had been so reluctant to go through your neighborhood at your very first accidental race together. And he still wouldn’t, no matter how much he trusted you. What had happened back then was still sitting deep within him - justifiably.

“I am running illegal races with you,” you started. “I have always known that you wouldn’t work with the law. And I am neither! So what does that make us?”

He sank his head and placed his hands on his lap. “You speak so highly of me, but in reality, I am a very bad person.”

“You’ve introduced me to your sister and mother, Jaehyun. If this is where a bad person grows up, then the entire world is rotten and beyond the point of saving. But people like you give me hope.”

“Why would a person like me give you hope?”

“Because, despite your situation, you still have so much love inside of you that expresses itself in so many forms. That’s why you’re loved too, by many people.”

Silence engulfed you, and you thought that Jaehyun would drive away after sometime again, but he didn’t, so you accompanied him in this quietness as long as it helped him process the past.

“You know why I wanted to take this shortcut?” he eventually spoke up quietly, and you shook your head. “Because I wanted to end the race abruptly and rush home… That night, my sister got very sick and my mom wasn’t home. I already announced that I would drop out before it happened.”

That was something the newspapers and no one else had ever mentioned. Of course, people always focus on sensational facts. It was easier to tell a story and transfer emotions when the main feeling an article would lure out was hate against someone.

It still had been a crime, this was a fact. And he could still go to jail for that. But you believed that the man who cared about his family so much and who was able to care about strangers too, was still very much haunted by his past, far more than he wanted to let slip through his facade.

If he hadn’t had a family to take care of, things would be entirely different. But he trusted you enough now to tell you all this and not fear that you would go behind his back.

My girl… you remembered. Had he truly meant it? Had you proven to him your undeniable loyalty just earlier?

“Jaehyun…”

Slowly, your hand wandered to his lap on top of his. Against your expectations, he grabbed yours and squeezed it tightly.

____

When Jaehyun wanted to drop you off at your building much later, the tension between you was still palpable, and you didn’t know how to make it vanish.

Perhaps, only time was needed - for him to believe that nothing had changed between you, and for you to settle with the fact that the guy who caused your heart to jump, just only a little bit, had done something grave in the past that you had to work through as well. After all, it still had been a crime.

“Jaehyun…” You wanted to end the night on a positive note, but he didn’t let you finish the sentence.

“Our ways will part here and now.”

You thought you had misheard. “Pardon?”

“I can’t demand a goody two-shoes like you to help a criminal like me,” he said coldly and stiffened in his seat. “And I surely won’t help a goody two-shoes like you write about my criminal record anymore now that the truth was inevitable to come forward with. So it ends here. Now.”

You knew where this rooted from: doubt and guilt. But during your entire career path, you had dealt with a lot of people who suddenly changed their minds on a topic or got cold feet.

“That won’t happen, Jaehyun,” you claimed. “You don’t have another navigator as good as me, no one and nothing can come close to the connection that you and I have.”

“It’ll be fine,” he obliged. “Now, go.”

“No,” you refused. “I will stay.”

“I SAID GO!”

“AND I SAID I WILL STAY!”

“Gosh!” he yelled. “Why can’t you be obedient for once towards me and leave before I hurt you too?!”

You both froze when it dawned on you what he had just said. You almost didn’t dare, yet you had to make sure that what he had said was indeed real.

“You’re afraid to hurt me?”

“I deceive my mom when it comes down to my activities and my studies. If she ever finds out, she’ll be hurt. I hurt my sister by not always being there for her whenever she needs me. I hurt my team for expecting them to be there for me although they have their own struggles. And I hurt you, because I cannot be the person you expect me to be. I only hurt the people I love.”

You took a deep breather and waited a few heartbeats in case Jaehyun wanted to chase you away again. But he didn’t. He just sat there in the driver’s seat, shoulders slumped, bangs messily falling into his eyes and the lollipop stick not moving a bit.

“You want to protect your overworked mom from more worries, you want to provide a good future for your sister, and you split the win evenly among the team for them to help their families too. If I don’t expect a friend to be exactly like this, then what else?” you confessed.

But Jaehyun didn’t like this answer, it was written all over his face. You were scared that you had said something wrong.

“Friends?” he suddenly croaked.

“Yeah, friends,” you repeated slowly. “Aren’t we… friends?”

You had seen him as your friend all along, though one who made your cheeks warm when he called you “my girl” and your heart swell when he touched you. But now, it hurt you that he had never felt even the slightest of the same connection. Fair enough, everyone needed their own space, and with Jaehyun’s past, it was his own right to decide whether to ever make friends again.

You had just hoped…

Cherry.

That was the taste of Jaehyun’s lollipop, he never chose another flavor.

Though, it tasted different from his own lips than from the candy directly.

You were asking yourself how this sweet taste could calm him down when all it did to you at this moment was making your heart race and nearly jump out of your chest. Perhaps, because this time, you tasted the lollipop’s sweetness on his tongue rather than in your own mouth, and he made sure that you experienced every taste bud this flavor had to offer.

Lollipops were very sweet already, and although Jaehyun was a fast and restless street racer, his kisses were much sweeter than candy. Admittedly, you hadn’t expected him to possess this side, but now that you thought about it, the signs had already been there whenever you observed him eating the candy.

Jaehyun’s fingers curled on your back when you motioned forward, away from your seat and more into his welcoming hug. The dashboard between you hindered you from embracing fully, causing you both to giggle at some point, but you continued kissing with your arms slung around his neck, for very long even after the cherry taste had vanished.

You weren’t hurt anymore over the fact that Jaehyun didn’t see you as his friend. You had never been friends. You had always been more than that.

____

Jaehyun’s victim had been a 45-year-old party chairman - that much you had found out through your connection to different journalists and a few demanding calls. The fact that after the incident, only silence followed and no details were revealed, not even about the gender and the age of the victim, had gotten your alarm bells ringing. And now you knew why.

A famous politician involved in a street racing accident, but no one had mentioned his name? Something was not right with this story, you didn’t need to be a professional to recognize this.

“I need his record,” you then said at the hospital’s reception.

Your editor-in-chief had given you this employee’s contact, assuring you she was more lenient in data protection when she saw the right amount of money. And your boss had been very happy to pay her the requested amount the moment you told him what you were after.

“This is exactly the kind of story I was looking for,” he had complimented you. “Good job. Now, go after it.”

You had left the building right away, making your way to the hospital the chairman had been admitted to after the accident.

“Here is a copy of his record,” the woman at the reception whispered to you. “All is well, he got out after two weeks. There is one interesting thing though… but look for yourself.”

“Thank you.”

You took the papers, and too excited to drive all the way back to the office, you looked through them right then and there after having found a quiet spot in the waiting room.

There was nothing abnormal at first for a car accident. It had left him with deep grazes, a dislocated arm, two broken ribs and a concussion. It sounded quite bad, but very mild for the fact that a car had hit him, and not at all life-threatening. So the accident had not been that severe as Jaehyun had made out to be in his panic.

Perhaps, that was the reason the party chairman had never been named in the news. But on the other hand… newspapers got to write articles about important politicians all the time, and just this once, his name had been left out? This didn’t sound like something a newspaper would do under these circumstances.

The more important the name, the more clicks and sales the news generated. They must have been bribed to keep his name entirely out of all news revolving around this incident. You were wondering yourself why. Given all facts, no matter how macabre it sounded, this kind of accident would even play into the party’s hands.

A very important politician who got hit by a street racer and admitted to the hospital with fractures? It would even be a headliner with the conclusion to go harder after such illegal activities.

Everything just doesn’t sound right. Something was being kept buried that no one should know about and could possibly threaten the party’s reputation. That much, you were already sure of.

… but what could it be?

You gasped when your eyes passed the passage that gave you a single answer to all your questions.

Patient was heavily intoxicated.

Whether it were drugs or alcohol, you didn’t know. But you were going to find out soon as you returned back to the office and made a call to the police.

____

“How high is the possibility that this program is actually a virus?” you asked and looked over Yuta’s shoulder who was currently typing something into his laptop.

“Very low, but it’s still new, so we never know what will happen anyway,” Taeyong answered on his friend’s behalf and stretched out on Yuta’s bed in whose home you had all gathered today. “Can’t you detect it if it’s one?”

“What do you think I’m currently trying to do here?” Yuta rolled his eyes. “I’m a programming student, not a wizard.”

“Okay, sorry? Jeez.”

“Doyoung said that with this program, you will also get the coordinates of all cars in your ten kilometer radius that use a GPS, so you can plan the route and the car’s speed even more predictively,” Yuta explained instead. “I’m still trying to figure out how.”

“The race is in two weeks. You should hurry.”

“I know, Taeyong. You think these last weeks I’ve only been sitting around?” Yuta gave his friend a scowl. “If it’s a new program, even used before its beta phase, it’s not so easy.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Okay, enough guys!” you interrupted their bickering. “Taeyong let Yuta work and peace and rather go through the city's plan for next week with me to mark all new construction sites, okay?”

In unison, they both said, “Fine.”

Taeyong turned to you while you started your own laptop to leave Yuta alone, and Jaehyun and Johnny were currently outside to maintain his car. You felt so included like never before in your life.

You’ve always said you didn’t grow up with a family. But sometimes, a family wasn’t something that you necessarily grew up with. Family also didn’t need to be bonded by blood. Sometimes, you lost family along the way, sometimes you gained one. And everyone would always welcome you into their family.

In your case, you gained a family in the form of a strong friendship that you had never experienced before in your life. Sitting here, analyzing maps with Taeyong while Yuta was silently typing away and Johnny and Jaehyun would soon come upstairs to talk about the next race after which you would all order food and then watch a movie together…

This was your own definition of family. This feeling of being cared for, trusted and loved without expecting anything in return, so much that it almost felt like your heart was going to burst. Your team was your family.

“I want to show you a place,” Jaehyun said when you were sitting in his car when all the work was done later that evening.

“Don’t you need to go home as usual?”

“My sister is having a sleepover at a friend’s house.” He smiled. “So I think my mom will enjoy a little more alone time to rest better.”

“Okay, then let’s go!”

Jaehyun stopped the car only much later after you had driven up a mound with a path so narrow, you feared the vehicle wouldn’t make it despite all its tuning. But against your expectations, you arrived at the top in that very same car, and the view over the entire city was splendid.

“I didn’t know such a place existed!” you called out and ran around the viewing place. “Jaehyun, I can see the entire city, and we’re not even on a mountain!”

“Do you like it?” he asked, following suit.

“I love it!”

“And I-”

“Hm?” You turned around to him with the biggest smile on your face. “What is it?”

He shook his head with a soft look on his face. “Nothing.” Then, he stepped close to you and hugged you from behind. “I’m happy you love it. It’s my favorite place. After the incident with my father happened, my sister and I came here a lot, because it made us forget reality for quite a while.”

“Thank you for sharing this special place with me.” You felt him kissing the nape of your neck and you shuddered pleasantly. “It really means a lot.”

The true meaning of it was revealed to you by him right after, “I spent most of the time here before my comeback. I wanted to give up on racing entirely. One night, I didn’t come home and my sister went to look for me which took her all night. I lost track of time, and I probably felt so ashamed returning to my family. When My sister found me here at the early hours of dawn, looking like a ghost and having cried all the way to this place, I knew that I had to do everything to protect my family. That’s when I dropped out of university and decided to race again. One day, I don’t want to do this anymore. One day, I’ll be free.”

You loosened yourself from his hug, shifted around and embraced him now from the front, body to body. “You’ll be one day, Jaehyun.” He gently brushed his fingers through your hair. “One day, you can provide your family the life they deserve and can finally live the one you have dreamed about as well.”

“But do I deserve it after everything that I’ve done?” He sounded full of doubts. “I’m not sure.”

You responded, quite confidently, “You do.”

“Actually,” Jaehyun changed the topic, “This car was my dad’s. He owned two, a big, elegant one to show off at work, and this one for his free time. It’s the only thing that was left, because it was registered to my mom’s name before I changed it to mine.”

You were curious about one topic. “Why did you never sell it? You only started racing after his arrest, right? Why have you never exchanged it for money?”

“I thought about it, a lot, in fact,” he clarified. “Maintaining a car is a very expensive hobby, after all. Apart from the fact that races became my source of income as it makes money fast and much, I think a part of me can’t also fully let go of my father.” He chuckled, but rather bitter and full of regret. “Isn’t it ironic? I think of it like my father repaying the debts he caused. It's satisfying.”

A wicked thought, but you liked the way he thought about it.

“Hey,” you then said, grinning, “do you want to get back at him once more?”

____

“Close your mouth and suck.”

This time, Jaehyun didn’t mean the lollipop he had put into your mouth, but something entirely else.

Luckily, the front seats of his car were able to be raised back all the way, so he was now lying almost flat on his back, his hands gently but determinedly having guided your head to his loin while you were sitting between his angled legs. You did as you had been told and sucked him off like a lollipop.

Your arms were propped up against the edges of the seat with your head bobbing up and down in a regular rhythm, but your tongue did the most work whenever you paused your neck movements just to indulge him with your proficiency.

“Jesus Christ,” Jaehyun cursed and put his forearm over his face so that his facial expressions would be hidden from you. It was like he didn’t want you to know how much control you had over him, but this was for no avail anyway as his swearing gave it all away, “No fucking way…”

It was certainly not your first time sucking him off, so it wasn’t like you didn’t know what he looked like enjoying this kind of pleasure. You found it rather cute how he still thought he could hide this side of him from you.

Your tongue rolled over the tip of his dick, leaving a trace of saliva where it passed. Making sure you covered every angle with your motions, you halted them when you opened your mouth entirely and slowly took in the majority of his length until you felt like you couldn’t do more.

Jaehyun let out a groan that made you smile inwardly, and it only got louder when you let him pass by your lips, but didn’t let him slip out entirely. Instead, you sucked on the tip like the cherry lollipop he often offered you.

You made sure to alternate between sucking and taking him into your mouth almost entirely, and when your left hand wandered to his warm thigh, you felt how tense he had become due to the arousal you made him feel. Instead of letting your hand go back though, Jaehyun stretched out his own to grab your fingers and intertwined them.

His nails dug into your skin and his thighs became very tense, closing around the sides of your face when his release was near. He came in a long spur directly into your mouth, and you swallowed it all down, including cleaning him up - with your tongue of course.

Jaehyun reached out to your face while you were licking over your lips, and you smiled at each other before his own gradually grew more wicked.

“You know what?”

“What?” You wiped with the back of your hand over your lips.

“I also never had sex in this car. Wanna change that?”

He didn’t need to ask twice.

Although it was still very narrow in the vehicle, Jaehyun had swiftly managed to change your positions so that you were now lying underneath him and he was kneeling in front of you in a crouched position. You giggled amusedly when you watched him taking off his shirt as he tried to do so without bumping into anything, but this had been an impossible task from the very beginning. Luckily, you had undressed yourself before already, so that he didn’t need to take care of that part too.

You assumed Jaehyun still needed a bit of time until he could go in fully again, but what would come before that, you had never expected. Your fingers were desperately gripping onto the door handle while your other hand was holding onto the seat belt that slowly dug into your flesh. But this slight pain passed by you almost unnoticeably when another feeling had taken control over your entire body and mind already.

You had already experienced how skillful Jaehyun was with his tongue whenever you kissed, which was long before indicated by the way he played with lollipops in his mouth. Of course he would put this skill into use elsewhere too.

But that he would be this good… You shuddered again when you came the second time in the span of a few minutes after Jaehyun had draped his hot, wet tongue all along your folds, causing your back to lift off from the seat and moaning his name over and over again.

And even then, he didn’t stop. He came to face you after cleaning off his mouth, and kissed you for a long time until you had entirely calmed down before he crawled back to his original position and squeezed his fingers into your bum again to bring it closer to his face.

With the tip of his tongue, he searched for the sensitive bundle of nerves, and you indicated that he had found it when you let out a light squeal. His lips enclosed the bud and you felt all your blood vanishing from your face when he started sucking on it. Oh god, you thought to yourself, you were surely going to pass out.

But he didn’t let you cum this time. Before you released, Jaehyun stopped and flipped you onto your stomach as swiftly as the narrow space allowed him to. Instinctively, you had already brought your bum up to give him better access, and you bit down into the flesh of your arm on which you had your chin rested when you felt him sliding into you from behind in one long motion.

The sound of his groin slapping against your cheeks mixed with your moans filled the car, and luckily, you had been the only ones on this view point at such a later hour. You had only had sex with Jaehyun once in your home, and you had never defined what that was between you. Maybe, you were too dense to speak it out and too naive to actually believe it, but you loved him.

Ironically, you only realized that when you decided to change positions and Jaehyun was constantly bumping his head on the ceiling and you got on top. You were settled on his hips, his length buried deep inside you, but you didn’t move yet.

You let your fingertips wander over his chest, taking your time, and he suddenly grabbed them, led them to his mouth and kissed the tips. When you gazes locked, you were sure.

Yes, you loved him. With all his flaws, his burdens and his past. Perhaps, you had never experienced this kind of love, which was why you had always been reluctant and unsure, but if this wasn’t love, you didn’t know what was. You just hoped that at one point, he would come to feel this way about you too.

“What is it?” he asked with worry when you made no intention of continuing. “Is something wrong? You want to stop?”

But you shook your head. “It’s just… I don’t want this moment to pass.”

Even in the semi-darkness, you encountered Jaehyun’s smile. “I feel the same way.”

Slowly, you raised your hips and slowly came back down to his groin. Jaehyun tried very hard to remain in eye contact with you, but when you did that several times more, he lost his composure again. You propped your hands up against his hard chest and picked up your pace, slamming onto him over and over again in a fast pace.

When you ran out of breath, you alternated the fast motions with sitting on his lap and just letting your hips rotate in different directions and forms, which very much pleased Jaehyun as well by the way he didn’t stop moaning at this part as well.

With time though, your stamina gave in, you slumped over him, eventually let yourself fall onto his chest, because you were too exhausted to go on anymore.

“Want me to finish?” he asked and stroked your shoulder to which you could only give a slight nod.

He kept you locked to his hips with his hands holding onto your sides very tightly and started thrusting upwards. You felt like he had knocked all the air out of your lungs, that was much much power he still possessed. Luckily, for you, you didn’t need to do anything anymore.

He was holding you as you laid on top of him, biting into his shoulder as he thrusted in and out of you with much force, which you really liked. Your thighs tensed around his sides and you whimpered gibberish into his ear, so close to cumming again.

Jaehyun let you release yourself first with a suppressed scream that partly still found a way to escape your lips, and your entire body shook as you felt your high flooding to every fiber of your body. He himself didn’t take much longer and you held him while he experienced his own orgasm, pressing you so close to him as though he was afraid of being parted from you ever again.

When you were getting dressed, he suddenly dropped, “I could get used to it.”

“Doing nasty things in your dad’s old car?” you joked.

But his expression remained serious. “No.”

You didn’t know what he meant.

____

You had written two different versions of Jaehyun’s story.

The first was the one he had read himself and approved of. There were only a few details and personal information sprinkled in here and there about the Falcon while you were trying to fill the emotional gaps with anecdotes and quotes from the other team members under an alias that they were willing to share. You were even successful in interviewing a few spectators and it would include the outcome of the race.

Overall, the less personal and official version gave a good overview over this illegal sport, and you were truly satisfied with this tame version. It was sufficient enough, intriguing enough and informative as well as emotional enough. At other magazines, the story would have made the headlines, you were sure of that. But for the magazine you worked for, enough was only good enough. You had to be better than enough, you had to exceed.

With this version of the Falcon’s story, you certainly weren’t. It wasn’t headline-material like your editor-in-chief expected after all the work you had put into it.

So you had written another version of this story.

One in which you talked about the Falcon’s past, his family, what had really happened back then before his career arose again and the relationships between you all. Yes, even between the two of you. And you had even come forward with the truth about the politician after hard research. This version of the story was personal and vulnerable, and it was the truth.

Jaehyun had gotten to read it as the first and only one.

“It wasn’t.. entirely my fault?” he had asked in disbelief when you gave him the story to read.

You had wanted to wait until you had gotten your facts straight, had enough proof, and then came over to his house to lay it out all in front of him. First, you were unsure whether he would like it, to have had you dig deep into his past.

But if he came to hate you and started to hate himself less instead, then it would have been worth it nonetheless. From one moment to the other though, you clearly saw in his eyes how much of a burden got lifted off his shoulder. Sure, the fact that the politician had been intoxicated didn’t change the fact that Jaehyun was way over the tempo limit, but he hadn’t been the only one at fault.

The politician had been intoxicated with drugs to the point of not being able to walk properly and had remained in the middle of the street, too far gone to think and speak straightly when Jaehyun had passed by.

“No, it wasn’t entirely your fault,” you assured him.

And with that certainty, you both decided to move past this as this case - to both parties luck, fortunately - had long been decided to be buried under the rug anyway.

Jaehyun didn’t come to hate you, you felt it in the way he hugged you close and never seemed to let you go after this revelation. He was, in fact, utterly grateful that you had never let go of this topic.

It was a step closer to him being free. From the very beginning, you knew which version you would publish after the race against the Cheetah. You had begged your boss to postpone the release for another month for you to include this race, and he had happily agreed - even to hold off the senior editor position.

____

“Are you nervous?”

You looked at Taeyong who took the seat next to you. Somehow, you weren’t nervous at all, even though tonight was Jaehyun’s big race against the Cheetah with so much money involved unlike ever before.

Later, you would also finish up the story with the outcome of the race and send it over still this night for the entire country to read. Perhaps, you were more nervous about this than the competition itself since you fully trusted your gained skills and Jaehyun himself. You wouldn’t treat this other than all the races before.

“I’m cool so far,” you said. “I just don’t know if it’s good or bad.”

“I hope it’s good. Jaehyun is probably more nervous than he lets slip.”

“I can hear you.” It was Jaehyun’s voice through your headsets.

“Good!” Taeyong exclaimed. “This wasn’t supposed to be a secret.”

You giggled just in the moment Yuta came over to you and put a usb on your desk. Just a few days before, you both had figured out how the new navigation system worked.

“Just plug it in and do as I told you.”

You nodded and reached for the stick. There were only ten minutes remaining. You had never seen this many people wanting to watch a race before and the tension was sizzling, not only between the teams, but between the spectators too. As far as you had heard, the bets were almost equally split as though no one could decide who would win in their eyes. The Cheetah’s team was in another building, and you wondered whether they were still nervous with the amount of times they had already won so war.

“Hey,” you suddenly heard Jaehyun through the headphones.

“Yes?”

Apparently, he had muted himself for Taeyong since he didn’t respond, but typed something into the computer and then turned around to talk to Johnny and Yuta.

“If something happens,” Jaehyun spoke, “no matter what, will you be with me until the end?”

“Of course.”

“No, I mean it.”

You frowned. “Mean what?”

He sighed deeply as if he was struggling inwardly trying to find the right words. “Will you be with me… until the end?”

“Of course!” you replied happily.

“No! I mean... shit.”

What did he want? “I don’t get it.”

“I love you.”

You were stunned.

It was the first time he had said this to you. The first time someone had said this to you. For how long had he been feeling this way already? Was there a chance he’d been in love with you for as long as you loved him too? You were long lost for words and before you could even inhale to say something back, Taeyong was by your side again.

“You guys ready?”

“Yes,” Jaehyun answered quickly as though nothing had ever happened.

“Then get ready.”

____

The moment the race started, you got to witness with your own eyes why the Cheetah was called the Cheetah. Jaehyun was already a remarkable racer, but his rival was immaculate.

You wouldn’t be Jaehyun’s navigator though if you hadn’t grown together throughout the past weeks. You were his additional eyes, ears and mind. Whatever he lacked or hadn't perfected, you carried out together, making him even stronger so that as of right now, he could easily take it on the Cheetah. You were going to win, that was how much trust you had in you both.

Midway through the race though, which was a real head-to-head contest that had eventually shaken off a part of your tranquility and replaced it with a bit of nervousness because of a few instances from which you quickly recovered nonetheless, Jaehyun started to panic.

“Shit, we didn’t see this coming!”

He complained about a construction site that had not been on your screen, but only popped up now. As of this instance, he was in advance, being in front of the Cheetah. Now, it was on you for how long he could hold that position.

“Don’t worry,” you tried to calm Jaehyun down while your heart raced almost as fast as the car itself right now. “I got you.”

“Why didn’t the new navigation system that Yuta gave you see it coming?” It sounded almost like an accusation and Taeyong shot a meaningful look at you from the side. “There are construction vehicles all around it!”

“Hey.” You didn’t raise your voice, you just wanted Jaehyun to snap out of his mental deadlock since he was too into it. “Stay calm.”

Sometimes, this happened. And if he was too panicked, he’d lose focus and make mistakes. That was why you were here. By now, you knew how to handle them and not let him irritate you or vice versa.

“I’m sorry.” Jaehyun had instant regrets. “I just want to win, I need to win.”

“I know. But to win, you have to trust me.”

You could only imagine his fingers gripping onto the steering wheel like his life depended on it, the knuckles first turning red, then white.

“I can’t lose,” he breathed and repeated like a mantra, “I can’t lose.”

On the screen, you perceived that he wasn’t as fast and sharp with his driving anymore, the Cheetah drawing closer to erase the remaining meters between the two cars. The vehicles appeared on the screen as dots on a map, the two that represented the racing cars now almost melting into one. Your entire team had gathered around you and were listening to you speak, only you and Taeyong knowing the details of your driver’s panic so far.

“You won’t lose, because I’m here with you, Jaehyun,” you assured him slowly, aware that in such kind of situations, you had to pretend to be calm to keep the driver at peace, even though you were tense as hell too. “It’s me, okay? I love you too, and I will be with you until the end. I know the meaning of this now, and of course I will.”

Silence - not only on the other side of the headset, but also in the hall among your team.

“Please say something,” you addressed to Jaehyun while ignoring all the other members’ grins. “This is kind of really embarrassing now.”

“I-I… I can’t,” he stuttered. “I’m… too happy.”

You smiled. Even though you were only connected via voice and there were other people standing behind you, you felt more connected to Jaehyun like never before.

“Are you ready to win this game with me now?” you asked him.

You felt his confident grin in every fiber of your body, it had given him the boost he needed. "Absolutely."

“Hey, we’re here too!” Johnny interrupted you. “What about us?”

“Get lost.” Jaehyun returned back to his grumble, but everyone knew that he didn’t mean it this way.

When you all broke out into a laughter together that lifted off the tension, even just a little bit, you finally felt like you had long reached the finish line. Not in terms of the race, but in terms of other things.

Trust, friendship and even love.

Because even if you had been among them only for a few weeks, you couldn’t imagine a better feeling than the warmth they caused you to experience right now with Johnny putting his hand on your shoulder in a comforting gesture, Taeyong smiling at you as he pointed at something on the screen, and Yuta rolling his eyes, seemingly not minding, but silently enjoying the entire situation.

This was it. This was your family. There was no deeper connection than you had with your team. You were going to win.

____

And you did.

Jaehyun crossed the finish line first.

Jaehyun won against the Cheetah.

Jaehyun was crowned King of the Streets.

…

But he didn’t last on the throne for long.

Only eight hours.

____

“King of the Streets”

… was the headline of your story that you finished late at night and sent over to your editor-in-chief so that it could still be printed for next month’s issue with the intention to be published the morning after.

____

“Congratulations.”

“Pardon?”

You were sitting in your boss’ office, the same chair, the same desk, the same window and the same view in sight. A few weeks ago, this had meant everything to you. You had wanted this, so badly, and you would have done everything for it. Now, it meant nothing anymore.

You hadn’t seen the new issue yet, that was not why you had come here. In your hands, you were holding a notice, but it had got nothing to do with what you had handed in the night before.

“‘King of the Streets’? I couldn’t have thought of a better title.” Your boss the issue in front of your eyes, but you rarely paid attention to it. “It’s great that you went with the way of leaving out the guy’s real name and even the politician’s name. Honestly, if I didn’t know who it was myself, I wouldn’t be able to guess. Now, people will get invested and do some digging. Congratulations on your promotion to senior editor!”

“Pardon?” you repeated.

You hadn’t written about the politician as agreed on. In fact, you had left out the entire storyline about the incident. That was why you had been so sure the story wouldn’t make headlines, and in your hands you were actually holding your resignation notice. You didn’t want to become senior editor. You wanted to quit.

With trembling hands, you reached out to the newest issue and looked at the headline. Indeed, this was your title “King of the Streets” with a stock photo that showed cars by night in front of a skyline. Your breath shortened when you searched for the right page and you felt like the air was being cut in your lungs when you stumbled over the story and started reading.

This was not your article. At least not the one that had been supposed to get published. It was the one only Jaehyun had gotten to read earlier, his very own, personal version. You felt sick in your stomach. How was this possible? Had you been hacked? Had someone secretly gotten access to your laptop?

“I… I sent you this?” Your voice shook with each syllable.

The editor-in-chief nodded. “Only a few minutes before the boring, second one. Of course I went with the first one. Who wouldn’t?”

“I didn’t send you this!” you nearly screamed. “How could you have published this?!”’

“Please calm down, Miss. This was sent from your very own email.”

“Show me,” you demanded and smacked the issue back on the desk. “Show me the mail!”

He sighed deeply and murmured something about short term memory, but you didn’t care much about his shenanigans anymore. Either way, today was the last day you’d ever interact. You’d just leave, what could he possibly do about it?

When your ex-boss shifted the desktop into your direction, you directly noticed, “This is not my work mail.”

It was your usual mailing name from a random provider, but neither your work mail address or your private one. Everything was similar except for the domain, indicating that someone had made this up on purpose.

“Yes, but I figured you might be using another mail, because you weren’t at home or didn’t have access. It was the big competition, so it was possible, right? Aside from that, this is your topic and writing style, even signed with your name. How could I have doubted it? I mean… this is your story after all, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

There was nothing you could say to defend yourself in front of him. You had written this all yourself, and the fact that it had gotten leaked wasn’t his problem. But someone else’s…

“I have to go,” you said.

“Well, when will you come back? We have to talk about your new position’s details.”

You laughed bitterly and didn’t forget to drop the letter on his desk. “I won’t come back.”

You didn’t care about your belongings. You just grabbed your bag, jacket and laptop and left the office without saying goodbye to anyone. The only thing on your mind right now was that you had to talk to Jaehyun and explain everything to him.

The more surprised you were to find him already sitting in the lobby. You were stunned, but as you continued your movements towards him, Jaehyun looked up, and your blood froze. He wore the biggest scowl on his face, and hidden behind it was the one emotion that hurt you the most: disappointment.

“Jaeh-”

“How could you?!” he yelled and arose from the coach, but he didn’t approach you. “I trusted you!”

You were assured it wasn’t because he was afraid he'd lose himself. He just couldn’t look you in the eyes as disappointment came forward more and more, revealing his true feelings. He couldn’t keep the angry facade up for much longer upon meeting you, the person he loved. But you still saw. Jaehyun was utterly hurt, and it was caused by this very same person.

You didn’t need to explain yourself, it wouldn’t change anything. You had betrayed and disappointed him like his father had, and there was no excuse for it. His entire past and deepest conflits had just been revealed to the country, and even though it wasn’t you who had published the story, you were the one who had written it.

Telling Jaehyun that it hadn’t been sent in by you wouldn’t change a single thing. The deed had already been done and there was no going back. You were just another person he had entirely lost faith and trust in, and there was no way for it to be restored. At least not right now, not immediately.

Jaehyun clenched his fists and pressed through gritted teeth, “You promised to me, I trusted you.”

Every syllable he directed at you pierced directly through your heart. You shouldn’t have written anything in the first place, it should have just stayed between the two of you. What had you thought while writing all of this? That you were doing him a favor? For what? No, it wouldn’t change anything, and it wouldn’t make him less sad and disappointed if he knew that you weren’t the person who had published it.

So you simply said, “I’m sorry, I should have never written this story.”

“I’ve always known you journalists were selfish bastards after all,” he hissed.

No heartbreak that you had ever experienced before came close to what you were feeling right now. At this point, you thought that you had been left by so many people in your life that you would need to entirely shut down.

Jaehyun didn’t speak it out, but you certainly sensed that he was going to leave you now, too. This was what you got for always being so nosy, for wanting so much and giving everything for it. In the end, when you reached your aim, everything didn’t matter when you lost every person that meant the world to you along the way.

“Get lost! Keep out of my sight and don’t ever dare talking to me again!”

When Jaehyun turned around without looking at you one more time, it felt like you were dying. So many people had walked out of your life already, and the man you loved the most being one of them hadn’t been in your book before. But now, it was very much real. It felt hurtfully real.

“Miss, are you okay?” the receptionist asked when she was approaching you.

You hadn’t noticed how your notebook had fallen on the floor, paper flying around everywhere. You were still looking after Jaehyun, petrified, while the young woman started to collect the sheets by your feet, but you barely noticed her. How was one to function, when they had lost what they loved the most?

Not much later, the receptionist was holding your arm after you had broken down crying in the middle of all your belongings. There was no one else anymore who could have emotionally supported you anyway, so who did it now was irrelevant to you.It didn’t help one bit though.

____

“Jiyeong?”

“Can I come in?”

It had been two weeks since Jaehyun had walked out of your life and you quit your job. Every minute of the day, you were hoping that he would come by to talk it all out. Not once had you hoped that his sister would do so instead of him.

“Sure.”

When she took off her shoes, walked past your small entrance and into your room, her eyes widened. “Why the many moving boxes? Are you…”

“I’ll be going away.”

“Where to?”

You smiled, but remained quiet, and Jiyeong immediately understood.

You didn’t want her to know and no one else either. Not because you were afraid that she or someone else would tell anyone, but because telling anyone at all would open the possibility of getting haunted by your past again. And this time, you just really wanted a clean cut.

“When are you leaving?” she asked instead, not even mildly offended to your relief.

“Next week.”

“I wish you all the best.”

“Thank you, Jiyeong. I really appreciate that.”

“Please don’t say this so easily.” Her expression changed into a pained one. “You’ll hate me from now on.”

“Why would I possibly hate you?”

She didn’t reply immediately, but nervously stepped from one foot on the other. She barely dared to look into your eyes, kneading her fingers nervously. “Because it was me.”

You were confused. “What?”

Even a bit quieter, she confessed, “It was me who sent the story to your boss.”

You were lost for words and still in hope you had heard wrong. “You sent the published story to my magazine that night?”

Slowly, Jiyeong nodded. “Yes. I found the story still open on my brother’s laptop when I went into his room to look for a charger. I couldn’t look past it, I really needed to read it. And it was so beautiful. My brother is just so deeply misunderstood, I was so relieved someone else saw it. So I wanted the entire country to know too.”

It was a lot for you to take in, and you still couldn’t believe this was real. “Did you create a fake mail account in my name and send it to my boss this way?”

“Yes. The mail from you with the article was still open, so it was easy to secure a similar address. I just acted on my personal intentions and disregarded your and my family’s feelings. I didn’t know what I would cause by doing that. I didn’t know I would not only get our mother worried, but hurt my brother and you too. I deeply apologize.”

“Jiyeong…”

“I thought,” she interrupted you, “I thought everyone would finally see my brother the way my mom, I, his friends and you see him. That he’s more than all that people paint him to be, and that the incident back then was different from everyone’s make up story. Never have I thought that I would not only ruin the lives of the people involved too, the least his or yours. I tried to change it up and make it as anonymous as possible, but I’m only writing in school, I don't have any real life experience, I’m still a child. I didn’t want all that, that was not supposed to happen! What was I thinking?!”

Her voice gradually grew louder and more upset, and when she hit the last sentence, she was close to tears.

You remembered the time when you were a teenager. There had been some grave mistakes you had made and many words you had said that you would want to have taken back immediately, but the deed had already been done and feelings had been hurt, including yours. Sometimes, the guilt gnawed on you like a parasite that never stopped being hungry.

You had never wanted to become a person who made someone else live with that feeling forever. In front of you just stood a teenage girl who had wanted to do the right thing and who just didn’t know what the right thing was. So you stretched out your arms and pulled her into an embrace. Jiyeon begged you over and over again to not hate her or her brother. You loved both of them dearly, how could you?

When she left after sharing a bottle of ice cream with you to soothe your both shaken up feelings, you also learned that Jaehyun had been informed about Jiyeong’s misconduct directly after he had come home the day the story was published - so two weeks ago.

This entire time, he knew. He had known all along and he never contacted you.

You hoped so badly that Jaehyun would still come. You were even still holding onto the slightest sliver of hope the day you moved away from Seoul, until the moment you closed your empty apartment door behind you.

But he never came.

It was just as you thought: It didn’t change anything, whether you or anyone else had sent in the story. The outcome would have always been the same.

So, if Jaehyun had decided to move on, then you would too.

Even though you had lived one of the best times of your life in that city, now it bearded nothing but a sorrowful past and broken dreams.

You wanted to move on, too.

____

2 years later

Moving out of a city didn’t simultaneously mean continuing on.

You had first needed to learn how to start life all over again.

It hadn’t been easy to begin again in Daejeon. It had taken quite a bit of time to find an affordable apartment, although the city was much less populated than the capital. It had even taken you much longer to find a job that fitted you more than the last one, and only recently had you settled with a new friend group.

Overall, life was going pretty well for you now.

Were it not for the fact that you still missed Jaehyun with every fiber of your heart.

After your published story, many newspapers had made follow up articles, even leaking the party chairman’s name. Of course he had then been fired from his position and the party would not make it to be one of those with the highest votes anymore.

Not a word was lost about the Falcon though. It was like he had never existed.

But you knew better.

Jaehyun had stopped street racing entirely and had enrolled back into university for his last year. He had taken the last race’s prize money to pay off the family’s debt - his entire team had left their amount to help him out this time, including you. This had allowed him to sell his car and start working part time in an electric shop.

It hadn’t been by far as much as he had earned as a racer, but they had made ends meet with honest work.

You were wholeheartedly happy for him when Taeyong had told you all this one day when you had met in Daejong a year ago.

“He misses you very much too,” he had said, and you had smiled lightly.

“I thought he hated me.”

“Did you forget what he said during his last race?”

That he loved you.

“I will never forget.”

Jaehyun had won the biggest race in his whole career, but he still wasn’t entirely free. Being crowned King of the Streets, having won a lot of money and becoming popular as well as getting your love - all that hadn’t set him free from his past.

“But now, it doesn’t matter anymore,” you had added, speaking to Taeyong.

He had wanted more time not only for, but also with his mom and sister. Being a good son and brother like his father could have never been.

Jaehyun couldn't put his life on hold to leave his family eventually, too. You had understood, so you had quietly accepted all this, letting him go and focus on the things he saw as important now. Where it had been racing and winning before, his priorities had entirely shifted.

If your love wasn’t part of this anymore but had made him realize this, then what more could you ask for?

By now, another year later, Jaehyun must have graduated from university already and his sister must be a sophomore in high school. Every now and then, you thought about them and prayed for their safety, but your life wasn’t on hold anymore.

“Miss, your interview partner is waiting in the lobby.”

“Okay, thank you.”

You took your notebook from your desk and walked out of your office. The room wasn’t as big as the one in your old company and the view was not as splendid, but you were editor-in-chief for the city's biggest magazine. You could write about things you really cared about like politics and things going on in town, nobody pressured you to cover topics that required you to do criminal things.

The company fitted your personality, your morals. It was perfect for you.

A week ago, you had gotten a request from someone who claimed to have a really good story for you. Even after telling the person via mail that your magazine didn’t take on this kind of sensational story, the person was being persistent, so you gave in and were open to hear what they had to say.

“Good morning, I-”

The last words got stuck in your throat and your breath caught simultaneously. You let your notebook nearly slip from your hands upon encountering your today’s interview partner.

“Good morning.”

He smiled the smile you had lured out of him only after a few weeks of knowing each other. In these two years, he hadn’t changed one bit. He looked more mature and admittedly also more relaxed, the scowl entirely gone. His clothes had changed into more sophisticated ones as he wore black dress pants and a white button up.

“Life’s been treating you well,” he added. “I’m happy for you.”

His deep, soft voice let you nearly melt again, but you were a professional, so you regained your composure real quick.

“I heard you have a really good story for me Mr. Jeong,” you smiled. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

____

Jaehyun wanted you to publish a story.

This time, with him and with his name written all over it.

“I don’t want to hide anymore, I don’t want to have secrets. I want to come clear, not only with myself, my family and friends, but also with everyone involved. I’ve already gathered permission from everyone, and even though it admittedly took me very long to reach this conclusion, I’m a hundred percent sure I want to do it. And most importantly, I want you to do it.”

It would be his personal story, from his own point of view where he would talk about his past, his father’s wrongdoings, his struggles and what he had been up to since his final race. He asked you to sell this story to your old company for a wider audience and for a follow up.

Legally, he weighed himself secure since he had talked to a few layers before making this decision. It was all for his conscience. If this helped Jaehyun finally move on entirely, then you would happily do it for him.

“Back then, during my last race, my navigator had never used the new system. I only found out much later.”

You paused your writing and looked up. You had settled yourselves in a conference room to work on this story without any interruptions. “Why did she never use it, Mr. Jeong?”

“She had so much faith and trust in our connection, she was sure she could do it without, that was how much she believed in me.”

You lowered your head and pretended to write, but out came only gibberish. Your heart was racing. You always fondly thought back to that time. “She must have been a real baddie,” you joked.

“She was.” The corners of Jaehyun’s lips curled upwards. “I don’t regret anything except for one thing.”

“Which is…?”

“Letting her go.”

You were asking yourself why you suddenly couldn’t see anymore as your vision was very blurry. When you wiped the back of your hand over your eyes, you realized that you had started crying, and the tears had stained the writing on your paper.

“I have one more question for you,” you only brought out.

“Yes?”

“Have you married yet, Mr. Jeong?”

The pause that followed almost tore you apart as you closed your eyes and prayed inwardly.

“I’ve been waiting for a special person to return to Seoul,” he nearly whispered. “When she didn’t, I went to search for her.”

You looked up to him, tears still burning on the brim, but somehow, you didn’t feel sad anymore. You felt more overwhelmed with this entire revelation that caused your heart to finally flutter again.

You had never stopped loving Jaehyun.

“And… what if that person doesn’t want to go back to Seoul?”

Jaehyun stretched out his hand and laid his palm against your cheek, wiping away your tears. It felt so familiar and warm, a feeling you had deeply missed. Even though there was still a respectful distance between you that had built up in the past two years, the connection was as deep and intense as ever.

It was at this moment that you realized Jaehyun had never stopped loving you too.

“Then, I’ll go wherever she goes.”

2K notes · View notes

starillusion13 · 1 month

Text

(TEASER)

“Obsession is a dirty aspect to look at, but the night is dirtier, my love. Either we kill you or we kill the night. What you say?”

Pairing: Criminal! Ateez ot8 x f! Reader

W.C: 2.3k (Main plot: ???)

Genre: Smut, Strangers to Lovers(?), Thriller , Yandere

Warnings: sweet threats(lol), meeting strangers, agreeing/ doing something without your consent, inappropriate touch (a little), mention of gun(not for shooting), pervert looks of Ateez. There’s not really any warning for here other than these all. (Rest all the warnings to be announced in the main plot.)

Network: @k-vanity

"Who?"

"I don't know." The young girl groaned and held her forehead, elbow resting against the wooden table where different liquor bottles and designed glasses were placed. "Honestly, I haven't seen them before and I don't think they belong here or from anywhere near, where are they actually from?"

You asked again, sitting in the stool opposite to her, "and if so, then why are you so concerned about them? They might be attending our night party like other men from around."

"Noooo." She whined and sat straight, giving her full attention to you. She eyed your white and brown combination dress with the knife placed in the leathered strap holder of your waist. "They asked Mr. Byun for an arrangement." looking into your eyes directly, the words fell from her lips.

You knitted your brows together and leaned forward, "and what for?"

"They want to have a party here." She scoffed and raised a brow before mimicking your posture, leaning forward and whispered, "and there would be only them. No one else is allowed."

"Why are you whispering this?" You asked her but in a whisper. "Also, how can it be a party if they are the only ones attending it?"

"Right? No. That's not the case. They want someone to accompany them through the night. A well known and trusted person of Mr. Byun and he even agreed to it."

A frown appeared on your face, "who is accompanying them?"

"You."

"No way." You stood up and glared at her, "don't tell me you supported him in this."

She slowly nodded. She remembered all the words exchanged between the men and the owner of the grand tavern of the kingdom, Mr. Byun. She was there from the beginning till the end of the goodbyes shared. Not really a proper goodbye. She remembered how a man with sharp eyes placed a box on the table and slid across from him towards the old man, before smirking at him.

When she wanted to protest against it, another man, might be the oldest one among them because of the way others were addressing him, he glared and stared at her as if challenging her to dare to speak.

She gulped remembering the scene. The box had some gold coins and jewels and the old man happily accepted the gift.

She flinched when you tapped her shoulder, "where is he? I need to talk to him."

She shrugged and stood up, "I don't know. Might be planning for tomorrow night. Soon, he will call out for you."

"I'm going out to search for him. I'm not accompanying some men whom I have never seen. If it was to serve drinks like any other night in the presence of others then I would have no problem. But alone, that's a different story."

You turned around towards the door and when you were about to step forward, she grabbed your arm and made you face her, "they offered him a huge amount of money in advance and also they promised to pay him more."

"So?" you eyed her grip on you, it was like a warning but also a pleading to accept the situation you were currently into.

"He won't be backing off. You know Mr. Byun and his greediness for money. Do you think he will change his mind?" she loosened the grip, when your hand fell by your side dramatically.

Why suddenly the situation is like this? Just a few minutes back, you were okay with everything then how the situation turned into against you and you are left with nothing just to accept your coming fate. It's not like you can't run away from this, but if you do then the consequences won't be good. Serving the guests with drinks and some occasional dance is what helps you to earn for your living and even if you run away from here, where will you go? Nowhere. You haven't been to any other place, other than the outskirts of this village.

You stared at her for a while and when she was about to speak something, you raised your hand, stopping her midway, "tell him I will be here tomorrow evening. Before...before the men could arrive at the tavern."

"...okay." her eyes followed your figure leaving the grand fancy wooden door of the inn. She sighed and slumped back into the stool beside, rubbing her forehead and mumbled, "I don't know if it's going to be good or bad." suddenly, she smirked, "but I hope she will get one of them for herself. She doesn't have to be single anymore and they are so breathtaking...oh my god."

>>>><<<<

"Mr. Byun?"

Hearing your voice, he turned around with a smiling face and with quick steps, he strolled across the room to hold your hand and drag you inside. The more you explored your surroundings, the more you realized the men inside the room were all unfamiliar. You haven't seen those four faces ever and the way you were staring at them, it seemed sure that you were......attracted?.......curious? But they are literally attractive and breathtaking. Whatever. You averted your gaze back on the old man holding your wrist.

You could feel the four sets of eyes boring a hole in your figure but you didn't pay attention to them. Or rather, you didn't have the courage to do that. You were feeling so shy and exposed in the room, even when you were all covered and beautifully dressed up because you were planning to go to the market wit Miara and before that, you decided to meet the owner if he did need anything.

"Meet them, y/n. They are our new guests." he hummed and nodded towards them. You were questionably looking at him. Guests? And why do you have to meet them?

Hearing your name for the first time, they tasted the word again and on their lips. rolling their tongue lovingly to see how sweet it will feel and sound like to call you with the name. the name really suits you and they have to tell you to make you aware of it.

You casted a subtle glance towards them, before one of them could hold your gaze with him, you turned around quickly but still you noticed one of them smirked at your activity and the one near you whispered, "sweet." and you are sure, it was meant to be heard because the way someone behind you chuckled and the man in front of you joined in their play. "Isn't she sweet? She is the best worker of our inn and tavern. I know she will take good care of you all."

"Huh?" you were so confused with the way he was talking about you to those men in the room, "take care of them? Who are they? And I don't-"

The old man laughed cutting you mid sentence, "of they are the-"

"Wait." The tallest one of them stood straight from where he was leaning against a shelf. He was all in a brown and black pants with a brown long coat with several layers of clothing inside it.

He chuckled seeing your little scared expression which you were trying your best to hide from them with your strong facade, he noticed how your eyes were nervously looking around the room to avoid his gaze. The way you pulled your lip between your teeth and bit down on it, a groan escaped his throat and the dirty smirk grew on his face.

He stood tall in front of you. He looked taller when he was so close to you, you tilted your neck back slightly just to look at his face. "Well, I think I want to introduce myself to her." he looked at the man who was still holding your hand and noticed his grip, poking his tongue to the inner cheek, he said with no emotion, "I would like to have some space. No need for you, old man...ah wait what's again..."

another male, who was manspreading on the leathered and cushioned sofa spoke up, "Mr. Byun." and chuckled after giving away the old man's name.

"Yes, Mr. Byun. you can leave now. We can introduce ourselves to her." hearing the order from the man in front of you, he wasted no time to leave your hand and leave the room. Wow. he promised to give you shelter and keep you safe from the outside world, just to leave you to die in this dangerous inside world.

"Hello, pretty." he bent a little forward, his eyes scanning your face, a little mole on your chin. He touched it with his thumb and smiled. "You are really pretty when close to me."

Your mind was screaming to push him and step back. And you did listen to your mind, but to only one thing: to step back. He quickly grabbed your hand and again chuckled, "why are you running away, princess? We mean no harm." his other hand poked under your chin to make you look up. Wait! That feels like metal. Yes it is. A Gun. "or we mean harm." he pushed your chin up a little more and whispered, "but in a good way. By the way, I am Yunho."

you were staring at the ceiling in absolute fear.

"Yah...don't scare her." Someone separated you from the tall man who was smirking while standing a few steps back. The other male patted your cheeks and smiled, "I'm pretty sure if we introduce ourselves like that. She won't accompany us tomorrow."

You whispered, "tomorrow?"

"Yes. haven't you been informed about the party?" he asked and tilted his head, his eyes traveling down your whole figure. The thoughts running inside his head were more impure than his already dirty, flirtatious gaze on you. But his bright smile. Oh, if only Miara was here then she would have started talking with him this instance.

He was in a black tight pant and a loose black shirt hanging in his body with a black thin cotton belt around his neck. You have seen this style on some younger men in this area, "It costs a lot to look at me this long, sweet one."

You gulped and clutched your dress by your side, "I know about the party but..." so these are the men? That is why Miara was excited to see them again. "Well, this sexy and attractive face has a name, that's Wooyoung." he winked in the end.

The one manspreading on the sofa smirked and poured a drink into a single glass, only one-forth of it and took it in hold. He was in a pretty similar outfit like Yunho but his coat was light in color and shorter in length. The other glass in his other grip was half filled.

When he walked towards you, Wooyoung stepped aside for other one to come exactly in front of you. Well, the two who have already introduced themselves to you stood close enough to you to observe your small reactions to every little detailed movement of theirs. They were enjoying the control they had over you. They were satisfied to see how they were making you feel small in front of them.

The glass with little quantity of liquid was extended towards you, "Here a drink for you, my love. And, the name is Seonghwa." you grabbed it and eyed the liquid with confusion. "Not the drink. That's my name." you nodded absent-mindedly and he smiled sweetly at you, before brushing his fingers over your cheek, "i think I will enjoy the night a lot."

"Hm. me too." Wooyoung nodded and folded his hand.

Seonghwa made a clunk sound with your glasses and sipped the drink of his own. The last male, who whispered 'sweet' when Mr. Byun was there, stepped towards four of you, "drink it." there was an authority in his tone. His furry jacket with the fancy hat and leather pants, he seemed like to be extra fancy than others. As if his looks and how people would look up to him matters a lot.

"I...I don't drink." you mumbled.

"That's a good girl." the way the words sounded so attractive from his mouth and you felt like you were going to comply with every order dripping from his mouth but you scolded yourself. You are no one's property and without any reason, it's so wrong for someone to order you around except mr. Byun. "But a single sip won't matter."

You eyed the drink and glanced at him.

This time, Yunho spoke up and it had a demanding undertone, "drink it, princess. We usually don't repeat a word but for you...fine. We can be a bit dirty." He laughed afterwards.

After a mental battle of fighting yourself, you finally brought the glass to your lips. Their intense gazes on you and the way the fourth male stood beside you and placed his hand on your lower back to urge you to take the sip and Wooyoung patting your cheek slightly, you closed your eyes and gulped a sip, coughing a little when it directly went down your throat and you removed the glass from your lips. "This tastes so weird."

they laughed hearing your complain.

"I know. I know. Take it slow. But gradually, you will feel fine." when you kept staring at him without a word, he laughed, "I know what you want to ask. But that's for tomorrow. You have to impress me to know my name." he leaned towards your neck, inhaling your scent with his sharp nose like a pervert, "or it's too bad."

What exactly is bad?

Who are they? And why are they acting like this?

Seonghwa again clicked his glass with yours, "Arriba!"

COMING SOON...

_____________________________________________________

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated. Spread love not hate. also, you can notice I haven't described the members in details because it will be mentioned during the main night event when others will also appear.

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @vtyb23 @haechansbbg @dassmyname

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writingsfromhome · 3 months

Text

Dos and Don’ts of H Styles

A/N: this story was literally born out of the wifi incident happening to me. It was a weird experience lol but of course it inspired me to write a story around it. Basically you used to work for Harry as a PA and your life was hell. You bump into him in the present but before it unfolds we need to know what happened in the past.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

——————————————

I watch as Winnie types into her phone the number of the guy who’d just hit on her.

“And that’s with a y?” She looks up at him with doe eyes.

“Yea,” he falls for it. He was cute, and she worked a lot I didn’t blame her for taking who she could get. His accent also helped. “What’re you doin’ now?”

“Well,” her eyes slide to me. “Hanging with my girlfriend here.”

He nods at me and I smile, holding up the almost empty glass. “We were just about done for the night though.”

“We were?” Winnie checks in with me.

“Mhm,” I give her an encouraging nod.

Both Winnie and I were employed by musician-turned-actor Oretta Smith. Winnie was her nanny—or childcare companion as she called it, and I worked as Oretta’s executive assistant. It was full-time and demanding as hell but ever since Oretta had her first child a couple months back I’d gotten a lot more breathing room as she minimized her public life and stayed close to home.

This long weekend Oretta was staying with her in-laws and asked us to take it off. I’d already requested the weekend off knowing we were in London but being off at the same time as Winnie was impossible so we’d gone out to celebrate and let loose—9pm and only 2 drinks in, both of us had already started talking about the comfort of our beds. Until flirty dude came up to Winnie.

“What do you say?” Winnie’s new date asks her.

“Aw shucks alright,” Winnie flashes her beautiful smile and hops off the stool. I don’t even see her drop the bills onto the table as she hugs me goodbye and leaves until it’s too late. She’d covered for both of us. Well I’d get her back next time.

I finish the rest of my drink, eyes flicking to the reruns of tonight’s soccer game. This wasn’t the fanciest bar—it was quite homely compared to the ones Winnie and I often found ourselves at. But it was one I used to go to when I worked in London just over a year ago. Being back in the city, despite all the awful memories, pulled me towards the nostalgic comfort of it.

I remember the many dates with my now-ex, the random nights I’d actually get off, and drown myself in drink to forget about my awful employer. Or the birthday and milestone celebrations—especially the ones I started to miss near the end.

I consider walking the few streets over to my old flat. Coincidentally the job I’d gotten wasn’t far from home. The upside was that it made dealing with “emergency” texts from my employer a lot quicker but the downside was it grouped all the traumas I experienced in this beautiful city to a few blocks. I didn’t miss it.

I cut my memory lane rabbit-hole short and decide it was time to order an Uber and get out of here; I had an early train to catch tomorrow.

The bars on my phone flicker up and down as I open the app and continue to refresh it over and over. But my signal remains unstable.

“Stupid phone,” I mutter. I had to update my provider while I was here asap.

“‘Scuse me?” I wave down someone serving drinks. “Have you got wifi here?”

“Yep we do!” She smiles. “Name’s The Violinist and the password’s capital p….”

Her voice grows far away as my blood runs cold and I stare at the list of available wifi networks. I feel myself nod a thank you when she stops talking and she leaves taking the password with her while I’m stuck staring.

My networks:

🔗H’s iPhone

I want to duck down and run away, not spend another second around anything to do with that era of my life. But I also want to hunt him down and show him how much better I was doing after him, despite.

The second instinct wins. Kind of.

I don’t hide away. I scan the dimly lit room and try to spot the familiar head of hair but it’s on the third try that I spot him. And it’s probably because his hair is barely an inch long.

He must’ve cut it recently, I’m surprised. Him without his hair was like Harry Potter without his scar.

The feelings are instantaneous though. The loathing and the need to cry. My heart continues to race as I burn a hole into the side of his head.

He was the devil incarnate and I had thought about him for a second too long just now. And now here he was. What the fuck was a guy like him doing here?

I remember the awful times; the casually cruelty and the late nights he would make me work. His constant criticism. The way my life fell apart because of him. The way I could wring his neck with very little incentive at any given moment.

He had turned my whole life upside down. He ruined me.

Harry Styles wasn’t the sweetheart everyone painted him out to be.

And yet, a flash of a feeling, a fleeting memory I try to keep locked away pushes to the front of my mind.

“Fuck no,” I tell myself. There was no room for fondness when it came to the devil.

About 2 years ago:

I straighten out the blazer, wondering if I should be chic and roll the sleeves up a bit or just keep them down. My reflection shows a nervous mousy girl that’s trying too hard. I throw my hair into a ponytail instead and feel a more like myself. Just as the elevator doors ding open.

I’m in the penthouse suite I would be working out of for the next however long; it was my first day on the job and I was still sorting out my nervous to excited ratio.

After looking for months, I’d landed a PA gig for up-and-coming rockstar Harry Styles. It was a dream come true and everyone was ecstatic for me, most of all my boyfriend who’d helped me land the role.

My boyfriend, Grayson, was a personal trainer to a lot of big names and he’d been keeping his ear to the ground for me. We met a few years ago at the gym of course, I’d still been a student and he worked part-time at the student gym. Back then he was still working to get a better client list.

We’d clicked pretty quickly and Grayson, who was anything but shy, asked me out. Soon after he was telling me he had feelings for me and I’d felt them echo back the same. He was my biggest supporter and when I told him I wanted to take this career path seriously he’d been the first to show me what steps to take to get there.

My true dream was to become a publicist and work with celebrities, but fresh out of post-grad everyone told me I’d need to dive head first and get my hands dirty. And I’d have to do that by finding a PA role for a publicist or an industry person.

“Y/n?” My name interrupts my thoughts. It comes from a disembodied head peeking out from a doorway. “You are y/n right?”

“Yes!” I hurry over. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yes. I’m Mr. Styles’ exec assistant, I’m only here for the next,” he looks down at his watch. “Half hour perhaps? So let’s get you sorted before I head out.”

“Oh okay. Sure,” my ears ring, I was going to be alone on my first day. I didn’t even know he had an executive assistant. What was the difference between him and me? What if I screw up and this guy was part of the fallout plan? Shit. “Is Mr. Styles in?”

“Not at the moment, he’ll be in before noon. He has a few appointments this morning. Typically you’d be going with him but he left before you arrived so…next time. Make sure you get any paperwork he received from the appointments and file them in here-“ he points to a room with a filing cabinet. Like an actual cabinet. This was a tight ship. “You sound American. Are you American?”

“Yep,” I debate whether to tell him I stayed after doing my degree here but decide to keep the yapping to a minimum.

I continue following the EA—who I should get the name of, as he points out rooms and overlaps it with info about Mr. Styles’ schedule and routines. A lot of info. My brain felt like it was barely holding on.

I think about the man I was now working for, the one who came into the interview for a brief 10 minutes. Surely that laid-back guy wasn’t the anal mystery man I was getting all these instructions for.

The interview itself had gone pretty smoothly apart from the fact that I nervous-laughed a few times too many. I had gone silent when The Harry Styles had walked into the office. He’d sat beside me at the round table, slouching slightly and flashing me a reassuring smile—I had felt my shoulders dip down immediately.

“So it’s y/n right? I’m pronouncing that correctly?” He’d said in his perfectly charming accent.

“Yes, it’s so nice to meet you officially.” I had to tamp down every urge to gush over him. I was a professional. I was zen.

“So y/n,” he says my name so casually and yet I feel myself lean closer to hear him say it again. “I’ve seen a couple of you come in here for the PA role. What makes you different then?”

Think think, just be calm and think!

“Well I’m a very passionate person so I put my all into everything I do. That would include this job, and in turn you’d benefit by getting peace of mind knowing I’m tackling whatever behind the scenes items that need to get done to get you where you need to go.”

“Well said,” he says with a smile that says he knew he was very good looking. “Now trust is a big factor in this relationship.”

As he talks I forget his manager is even in this room. I’m swept up in the hazy green of his eyes.

“We’ve done the background checks and all that—right?” He looks to his manager who was interviewing me and gets a nod. “But how can you reassure me. My staff gets approached by the media daily for any info on me. What’s to say you don’t sell out.”

“I would never,” I didn’t even think of that being an option. “Confidentiality and trust is the biggest pillar of this role and I take it very seriously. You’re like, the biggest celeb of the last year but I know you’re also a person and I wouldn’t betray that. On a person level.”

“So even if you had a really bad day, say I had gotten you to do some impossible tasks. And you’re heading out head full of steam and you get approached by a reporter. £5k for an exclusive.”

I shake my head. “As tempting as it would be, professional ethics reign over any of that.”

“I believe you y/n,” his eyes flicker down to my file. “Good references. We’ll be in touch.”

Now my eyes roam around the small room I’m meant to work out of. It’s the size of 1.5 supply closets with half the walls filled with shelves and cabinets. There’s a small desk but I wasn’t sure how often I’d be sitting at it. All the PAs I’d ever connected with always complained about the amount of time you spend on your feet. That’s why I’d opted to buy myself runners when I got the job.

“Any questions—mind you I have 1 minute for them before I’m off? There’s a suit I have to sort out.” The EA turns to me when we circle back to my office/supply closet.

“Oh,” a million race through my mind. Nothing that would fit in a minute. “I um, I guess I didn’t catch your name?”

He seems surprised at that, and then he laughs. “Oh you’re a doll. This place is gonna eat you alive. I’m Riley and tip for you—don’t be so eager to please. Do your job. Do it well. But you’re not here to be liked or make friends alright?”

He laughs again when he looks at my face. He hands me an iphone and tells me it’s programmed with everything and everyone I needed, then waves goodbye leaving me in a confused spot.

I wasn’t naïve, I knew what working in this industry was like but I was could swear I’d landed a good gig with Harry Styles. And meeting the man himself in the interview had confirmed it.

Maybe Riley was just jaded by too many long hours.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. A text from Grayson: good luck on your first day babe. let me know how it goes.

I only have time to heart it when I hear the elevator open in the foyer. I rush out just for Harry to brush past me and his manager following, chattering away about something.

I follow from behind and watch as he heads to the kitchen. Riley had shown me what he laid out on the island and how I should do it going forward. And like two magnets Harry reaches for the exact bottle Riley mentioned. He downs the smoothie and then collapses onto the barstool.

“But don’t forget what she was saying about the single needing to be global. Sure your fanbase would love it but would the people who hate you have to admit it’s good.”

“I make it for my fans not for the wankers that hate me,” Harry says and his voice is rich like caramel.

“You know what we mean.” His manager suddenly turns directly to me. “Can you contact the studio and let them know to push Harry’s 1pm to 3?”

“Oh,” I didn’t even know they knew I was here. They gave no acknowledgement until now. “Of course. Um, could I just get the paperwork from this morning too? The appoint-“

“Yep,” his manager unhauls the items in his hands. The whole time Harry stares out the window. I’m handed a stack of papers and I carry them to the office.

My hands are shaking when I put them down and I feel a lump in my throat. What was wrong with me? Why was I reacting this way?

I find the studio contact in the phone Riley gave me and let them know. They’re suspicious at first but accept the reschedule. I leave the paperwork for later, figuring I might be needed now.

But the rest of the morning I’m unacknowledged save by a few requests from Harry’s manager. I spend some time looking through the calender in the phone that’s pre-programmed with Harry’s entire life. It’s packed except for this Sunday. I wonder if it was actually free or just hidden from me since it was my one day off.

“You’ve got a passport haven’t you…?” It’s the first time Harry’s spoken to me. He’s changed into a hoodie and shorts, his manager is nowhere to be seen, and I’ve just bitten into a granola bar—the first thing I’d had since my morning coffee.

“Y/n.” I try to swallow the bite whole but at the last minute push it to the side to try to answer. “Erm yeah. I haven’t got it on me though.”

“Right. Y/n. Start carrying it. I’ll need you with me on Thursday I have a morning meeting in Léon and since Riley’s going to be sorting out something for my New York trip in a couple weeks he can’t make it.”

“Yes. I will. Do you need me to prepare anything else for the trip? I’m not sure if you’ve packed or-“

“It’s just a meeting.” He cuts me off. He pulls out his phone, dismissing me.

I swallow the knot in my throat once more.

I go with Harry to the studio since his manager is meeting us there. Alone in the car with him, the silence feels stuffy.

“I never got the opportunity to say thank you by the way,” I try to open up a conversation. All he was doing was looking out the window surely I wasn’t interrupting anything.

“What?” He stares right through me.

“Um, I’m just saying thank you. For the job.”

He nods.

I stay silent for the rest of the ride.

The studio is quiet, which makes sense when I think about it but upon entering an actual room I change my mind. The noise assaults my ears and I nearly jump at the volume but my hand gripping the doorknob keeps me in place.

People swarm around Harry.

“I need my tablet and my notebook,” Harry says amidst the small chaos.

What the fucks was he talking about. “Sorry?”

“My tablet and notebook,” His face darkens and so does my mood. Nobody told me! But maybe I should’ve asked oh my god.

“I don’t have it,” I say lamely.

“Any time I’m in the studio I need those two things. You need to get me my tablet and my notebook.” He speaks like a robot.

“I-I’ll head back,” I get my bag again. “Tablet and notebook, is there anything else?”

He looks angrier than I thought. He sticks his hands in his pocket, shuffles something in his hand before handing it over. “You may as well get lunch. Keep that card on you for business costs.”

I open my mouth to ask what he might want but he turns away as soon as I take the card and I’ve already fucked up royally so I decide to wing it.

In the car I consider googling what Harry Styles ate for lunch and instead will the ever living shit out of myself not to cry.

I scroll through the phone, debating if calling Riley for help would be a mistake. Going through every app for help I realize the countless notes in the app.

Morning Routines, says one. It lists things I should do when the mornings were spent at home, in studio, abroad, in a hotel, or if I walk into a “morning-after” morning. Jeez.

Another has checklists for what to do when travelling, how-to for routine appointments I should be booking, routine people I should be calling.

Why didn’t I look at this before. Right there is one called Studio Days and in bold it says what to bring.

I was an idiot. A big fat idiot.

I try my luck and search lunch. Sure enough a note with possible lunch places in cities across the world pops up.

It was a How-to guide for Mr. Styles.

Whoever put this shit together was an angel. I owed them my life.

I decide to be proactive, sorting lunch out to be delivered to the studio while the car drops me off. I run to the room Riley had said was the home studio. Sure enough I spot the tablet and a few notebooks, I grab all 3. I also grab the charger and ignore the bag of weed chilling on the arm of the chair.

What to do when he’s too drunk / What to do for Interview Days / What to do when he won’t answer the door or the phone / Day-off checklist / Social media checklist.

The dos and don’ts go on and on as I scroll through on the ride back. This was going to be my homework and by the end of the week I was gonna be a genius.

I swipe away and check if I had missed any folders containing precious info. Just the trash.

Out of curiosity I open it and there’s only 1 sitting inside: the donts of working for Harry Styles

I open it:

-don’t let one nice day fool you into forgetting he’s an arse and your employer

-don’t expect any gratitude from a narcissist

-don’t fall for his charm

-don’t shit where you sleep. no matter how tempting

-when he pisses you off which he will, don’t mouth off. what happens next is worse than being fired. which he won’t do because he’s the devil and he will want to keep you around after treating you like shite

-don’t think he’s chill. he’s anything but. follow the checklists and the rules.

-don’t have a life. actually this is a CAN’T. YOU CAN’T HAVE A LIFE WORKING FOR THE DEVIL. LEAVE AS QUICKLY AS YOU CAN UNLESS YOU HATE YOURSELF

I close the phone immediately, my heart thumping in my chest like a steady bass in the background of a song. What the hell did I get myself into.

***

It’s 8pm by the time I head back with Harry. The car is once again silent.

I had spent the day reviewing emails and the checklists, fielding calls and texts. His personal chef had texted to tell me dinner was prepared and in the oven to be re-heated so I figure that’s the last thing I’d do before I head home.

I’d eaten lunch standing while watching Harry sing background vocals to the album he was working on. It was hard to deny how intoxicating it was to see such a talented man work his magic. And it really was magical seeing how a song got put together.

That is until he’d sent me to get tea for the room and I’d nearly spilled half of it on myself getting enough back to the room. I was getting an electric kettle next.

I made a new note then: Reminders to do so you don’t get fired

The notes were my saving grace.

“My head is killing me,” Harry groans.

What to carry at all times: #4 paracetamol and #2 water

Checkmarked after going to the pharmacy while he was in the studio. I’d created an emergency makeup bag with essentials I could throw in my tote. I considered it a win today.

I hand the painkillers to him and he seems surprised. He replaces them with his phone.

“I don’t want to look at a screen for the rest of the night.”

“Okay.” I leave his phone beside me and try not to think of everything on it.

It vibrates a few minutes later and I leave it, not wanting to invade his privacy but he glances at me.

“Well?”

“Oh!” I lift it but it’s locked.

“1021.”

I type it in. “Um, Jeff wants to know if you’re still at the studio-“

“Reply to him.”

I do as I’m told.

“Um Mitch wants to know if you’re-“

“If it’s scheduling questions you can probably answer them without bothering me about it.”

I look up and he’s tipped his head back, eyes closed. Right. Of course I could.

I go through his schedule and find his studio time on Friday and relay it to Mitch. I respond to another text from someone asking if he was going to a gala in a couple months—his schedule said he was in LA so no. I wondered if I would also be in LA in a couple months. I wonder what Grayson would think.

Grayson, I’d had a short call with him a few hours ago and tried not to cry hearing his voice. It felt like home when the whole day felt so foreign.

I stare at the final text. The contact photo is the side profile of a gorgeous woman.

“Kimberly wants to know if you want um,” I feel my cheeks burn. “If you’re inviting her in tonight because she has a party she really wants you to go to.”

“I can’t be arsed for a party I feel like shite.” Harry says, eyes still closed. “Tell her to be at mine after 10.”

“Ok.” I type the words with a racing heart. I remember the morning-after checklist for this exact scenario. It wasn’t going to be weird soon I guess.

I heat up dinner for Harry while he showers and leave letting him know what time I’d be in tomorrow. He doesn’t even say goodbye.

I get home around the time I reckon Kimberly gets to Harry’s. The first thing I do when I see Grayson is shed a waterfall and he holds my exhausted body tight against him.

“Are you sure you want to keep doing this?” He whispers to me in bed after a shower and sandwich—I couldn’t stomach anything more.

“I need this job Gray. It’s gotta get better.”

“I reckon but it’s a steep learning curve,” he says as he traces the curve of my nose.

“I know,” I snuggle closer to him and yawn. I don’t know what he says next as I tip into sleep.

***

If the notes app manual with the dos and donts of being Harry Styles’ PA was a physical thing, imagine me swallowing it.

Every spare second I had—which I didn’t get a lot of, I was reading that thing. My fingers searched tirelessly before every scheduled and unscheduled event. And yet, I’d fucked up so many times.

It was Saturday and I was looking forward to my day off.

He had been hot and cold all week but ever since getting back from Léon he’d been nicer and I’d actually been getting home before 8.

Maybe things were going well, despite the fact that the learning curve was like climbing mount everest.

“What’s my morning look like?” Harry asks. I was sitting at his kitchen table trying to book a dinner for him next week with a friend that was in town. A friend who also happened to be big back where I was from—I hoped to catch a glimpse of her myself.

I glance up and look back down just as quickly. After a week of seeing Harry in all sorts of undress I should be used to it, but my face still flushes. Today he stands at the table in running shorts.

“Pulling it up,” I say and scan his schedule even though I had it memorized. “You’ve got a meeting at the bank in about 40 minutes and lunch with Michael.”

“Can’t my accountant take the bank meeting?”

“She’ll be there. She’s meeting you downstairs to discuss the meeting on the ride over. You need to sign off on some stuff.”

“Stuff,” Harry repeats.

I look at him, careful to train my eyes on his face. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed at my lack of elaboration or just teasing me.

“Documents.” I correct, still unable to tell.

He look amused. “Great. Documents. I thought I’d be signing body parts.”

Was he joking? He was joking…I think.

“Right. No, we’re saving that for the tattoo shop booked for 6.”

He raises his brows, a slow smile spreading across his face and like the sun coasting over the horizon he looks brighter and prettier.

“That’s mad, that people would get a random man’s signature tattooed on them isn’t it?”

It’s inevitable really, my eyes skim over his torso brimming with tattoos. He notices and laughs. It’s a wonderful laugh.

“I meant they don’t really know me.”

“They admire you and it’s a piece of you,” I shrug. “At least it’s not a portrait of your face.”

“I’ve seen that floating around the internet actually.”

“Really?!” Now that was mad. I pull it up on the laptop and cover my mouth.

“I know.” He hangs his head and we laugh. God, things were finally getting better. This was the kind of relationship I thought Harry would have with his PA.

I scroll through comments and it’s impossible to wipe the smile off my face. I’ve considered myself a fan for a lot of artists but tattooing their face…that was another level of commitment I couldn’t do.

I look back to Harry who has grown quiet. His eyes are on me.

“What happened to your blazers?”

I’d decided to wear a skirt today, it was my lucky skirt—the one I had been wearing when I got the call that the job was mine. It being the last work day of the week I thought it might make me feel good.

I’d paired it with a tank top and a comfy cardigan. I’d finally felt like myself compared to all the button ups and blazers I’d been parading in. But apparently Harry had noticed the wardrobe difference. Shocker because he barely acknowledged me this week.

“I thought I’d dress for a Saturday?” It comes out meeker than I’d hoped. Ugh. “I hope that’s alright. If you want me more professional-“

“That’s alright,” his eyes roam down my body and I feel hot all over. Oh god, I shouldn’t have worn this. “It looks good.”

“Thanks,” I cross my cardigan over my body and try to get back to work but he doesn’t let it end there.

“Did you make that yourself?”

He continues to surprise me, “I did actually, is it obvious?”

“Yeah there’s a big hole down the back,” he teases. I know he is because his eyes are smiling, light.

“Damnit,” I relax a little. He was only interested in the sweater. “I’d finished it late it looked okay in the dark.”

“I have a friend, she made one of those for me. With the patches. Very comfortable.” He’s weirdly intense while looking at me and I feel like squirming again.

“It is. Very stretchy.” My vocabulary seems to shrink.

He leans over to touch the fabric and I feel like a cactus has been stabbed into my neck, I feel hot and prickly. Jeez, I had to chill out. My employer was just interested in my sweater. Super interested. Maybe I should just give him the damn thing. It would definitely fit him.

“Wool,” he smiles. He’s basically perched above me and I think I’m going to have a heart attack. I went from complaining about the fact that he acted like I wasn’t in any room he was in to not even being able to hold a conversation when he did.

I’m caught looking up into his unfairly gorgeous eyes and he looks at me like I’m the only person in the room. Which I was in this instance, but still.

I’m saved by a loud voice coming out of the elevator.

“Harry you car is waiting downstairs.”

Like a book slammed shut, his expression retreats until all that’s left is the cover page with no summary. The friendly Harry from before is gone.

“Oi Harry! I had to come all the way upstairs because I’ve been sitting in that stupid car waiting! Do you not pick up your phone?”

“Lee,” Harry says as he walks across his living room. “If you can’t reach me you call my PA I’ve told you a million times.”

“And I’ve told you a million times not to keep me waiting. We have a lot to cover before we get to this meeting and I need every minute. God why are you shirtless go put on something appropriate!”

Harry miraculously does as he’s told—given I had already laid out an outfit for him. He’s ready in no time. His accountant, Lee? Simply smiles at me and goes back to typing on her phone while we wait.

“Why is that so wrinkled?” Lee judges Harry who walks out in a completely different outfit.

“I don’t have time to change again do I?” Harry bristles.

Lee looks over at me and I’m not sure if she’s accusing me of something or looking for support.

“Mr. Styles I did leave an outfit out for the m-“

“I don’t wear silk.” He cuts me off and walks out ahead. Lee shrugs my way and follows him. I trail behind, feeling worse than ever.

For a miserable hour and a half I sit in one of the most uncomfortable chairs of my life, organizing Harry’s life while I wait for his meeting to end. As hard as I try to concentrate, I keep agonizing over what I might have done wrong to flick his switch. I swear things were going better. And I know I’ve seen him in silk before. Why the hell else would it be in his closet? Why couldn’t I go a single day without screwing up?

I finally spot Harry walking out of the office and gather my things quickly to meet him. I trail behind as we walk down the hall into the lobby, Lee is nowhere to be seen.

A gasp catches my attention and suddenly a girl younger than me rushes up to Harry.

“Oh my…Harry Styles?”

Harry’s face morphs briefly into annoyance, his gaze flicking my way, before pasting on a smile for the girl.

What to do when a fan approaches H (in the wrong moment): be the bad guy, divert, get Harry to wherever he needs to go to and do it quick.

“Hi,” Harry smiles sweetly at her and the friendliness throws me off guard. But this was unexpected and I should get him away…I think.

“Oh my god could I get a picture? My mate is never going to believe this. She loves you so much, so do I-“

“We really have to be going.” I say and the girl looks at me, surprised to find me there. I look around and spot and older woman watching us. Must be her mum.

“Could I just get a picture?” She glances between us.

“I don’t think Mr-“

“It’s fine,” Harry hands me her phone. “Get a photo of us.”

Just another layer of humiliation to add to the rest of the day. The rest of the week. God was I just awful at reading cues?

I snap a couple and then we’re walking free.

He doesn’t say anything. The car ride to his lunch date is spent in awkward fucking silence and I hate myself more with every second I spend in it.

When the car stops at his destination he holds his hand up when I go to open the door for him.

“Listen -what's your name again?" He asks.

Shame and humiliation drip over me like blood on Carrie’s prom night. I repeat it for him. Just like I had daily since I was hired.

“Right. Y/n. You came highly recommended from a friend so I trust you know how to do this job. This job, is to keep my life organized and keep me on track. Make sure I'm not distracted or side tracked by anyone. Including you. It’s not to be my publicist or my fashion advisor or my personal security. Let's stick to the job description okay?"

His words land bitterly to my ears. Not personal. Just a job. Just a job. Just a fucking job. And yet it was starting to feel like my whole life.

“Yes of course.” I hear myself mumble. And like the big clown I had to be, I push open the door and get out so he can too. He walks to the restaurant without a goodbye and I crawl into the car, heading back to his place. Tears burn my eyes but I refuse to let them out. Refuse to admit just how badly this job hurt.

***

“I’m not doing this on purpose,” I hiss into the phone. “You know I’d be there right now if I could!”

“Babe I get it’s your job but you haven’t come to anything in over a month since you started your job!”

“That’s unfair,” I cup my hand over my mouth. “Gray c’mon I’m going to be there just late.”

“That’s what you said last weekend.”

Last weekend, one of our good friends invited a few friends for dinner in their new place and Greyson had had to go alone. Everyone had messaged me to say I was missed but Gray had been stony, pretended to be asleep when I got home and then given me the silent treatment until I wore him down the next day. It was exhausting begging for affection.

“It’s my job Grey I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Me neither, you know my parents want us over for weekend roast some time but I’ve been avoiding giving them a date because I don’t want you to stand them up.”

“I-“ a shadow shifts in the corner of my eyes and I look up. Harry stands in the doorway. “I have to go we’ll talk later.”

“Whatever y/n,” Grey hangs up and my chest squeezes with all the hurt I was causing. But he saw the state I’d been in since I started this job a month ago and he knows this is just my life right now. Why was he suddenly acting like it was brand new information?

“Are you done your personal call?” Harry asks. He hovers in the doorway, I’d never actually seen him in this little office space. Then again, if he did step in there wouldn’t be much room for either of us to walk around each other.

“Sorry,” I hate myself for apologizing. Here and everywhere else in my life. But I have no other choice. “Can I do anything for you?”

“When are you heading out tonight?” He asks. His eyes glued to my face. I know my eyes are teary and I try to blink it away.

“Um, soon. In an hour or so,” blink blink blink. “Did you need anything from me before then?”

“Yes, I have a friend coming over tonight. Can you order us something for dinner. Something light. And get a bottle to chill for us—champagne. And can you push Monday’s cleaning service to tomorrow afternoon?”

“Consider it done.” I tell him, hoping he would just leave me alone in the dark here.

“Do you have evening plans?” He continues. Why did he never ignore me when I wanted him to!?

“Kind of yeah,” I try to keep it short. “A birthday.”

It was Grayson’s sister’s birthday. She had invited us to a local fave called The Violinist and of course I would only make it to the dessert course if I was lucky. These days, making it to dinner at all was a luxury. I lived off of sparkling water, leftovers, and coffee.

“Well best to finish up what you’re doing so you can head out.”

He leaves and I’m annoyed. Why couldn’t he be nice and just tell me to leave after doing what he asked. But here I sit folding fucking pamphlets for some idiotic pledge he had signed on for. Fuck me.

I’m miserable by the time I leave. I’d managed to finish everything in a half hour so I’d touched up my makeup and changed into a simple dress I had kept in the office closet on Riley’s suggestion.

“A simple black number that could be used for any last minute event.” He’d said. Unfortunately that now counted for personal events too.

“G’night Mr. Styles.” I call out as I walk to the foyer, just so he knows I was going out earlier than I said.

“G’night,” he answers surprisingly. He always ignored me but tonight he sits on the couch. He rises to see me off but I notice him pause and take in my outfit. “Fun night?”

“I hope so.” I unfold the blazer in my hand, suddenly wanting to disappear with his gaze on me.

His long legs walk to me and he takes the blazer I’m fidgeting with from my hands. He actually holds it open and if I wasn’t this exhausted my jaw would definitely be on the floor.

“Oh. Thank you,” I slip it on and turn to face him. As if helping me put it on wasn’t surprising enough, he proceeds to untuck my hair from the blazer.

“That’s alright,” he says in a low seductive tone. “You look nice. Are you dressed up for someone?”

The question is dangerous, toeing a line I’m not sure I want to erase. I try to ease things with a joke. “The birthday girl I guess.”

“A friend?”

“My fiancé’s younger sister.”

Was it just me, or does he bristle when I mentioned my fiancé?

“I didn’t know you were engaged,” he mumbles, glancing down at my hand. I wore a number of rings and I guess the small diamond Grayson had proposed with back when it was the most he could afford, blended in.

“Yeah, nearly a year now.”

“Wow,” he crosses his arms. “Have a date set?”

“Not exactly,” I smooth my hair behind my ears. “We’re thinking next year but we’ve just been so busy with out schedules-“

“What does he do?”

“He’s a personal trainer,” I say proudly.

“Oh,” Harry tilts his head back. “Oh. Now I understand. Now I get the connection. My mate Liam put in a good word for you when I needed a new PA, he said he knew you through his personal trainer. He never mentioned how.”

“I see,” I’d have to thank Liam next time I saw him. He’d been one of Grayson’s first big clients and had become a close friend to us. I’d have to thank him with dinner. If I got any nights off, that is.

“That’s who you were talking to on your personal call?” He asks, his hand tracing my shoulder seam down to my elbow. My heart races from the ghost of his touch.

“Erm yeah, sorry again. I had to take it since it was time sensitive.”

“Best to get going then.”

I take a step backwards and then rush to the elevator all at once. Once I’m on and the doors start to close I turn and catch a glimpse of his handsome face watching me go.

I let out a breath. That was weirdly heavy. And kind of intimate. But weird. That was weird.

I wonder briefly who he was having over tonight. If it was Kimberly, who I’d had the misfortune of meeting in her panties one morning. Or his other “friend” some brunette named Maya or Amaya something. I’d had the misfortune of meeting her when I dropped off a late package to Harry one evening. All were awkward encounters.

I shake away the thoughts and am grateful when Harry’s driver waves me down on the sidewalk. I guess Harry had told him to take me to where I needed to go. My heart is warmed ever so slightly, although I do accidentally nap on the 15 minute drive over.

I make it for the end of dinner and Gray looks relieved to see me even though his eyes hold a hint of something unspoken. I try to ignore it tonight.

“Oh you look beautiful!” I hug the birthday girl, and we sway from side to side. I used to see her a lot before she moved away for uni. “When did you stop being a baby, Josie Duran let me get a look at you.”

“Josefina tell her what you did for your 21st.” Gray says.

“Can you let it go!?” Josie scowls.

“What?” I whisper.

“Mom will kill you,” Gray warns.

“That’s why she doesn’t have to know,” Josie bites.

“Hey,” I put my hands up between the two. “No fighting with the birthday girl. Anyway. Josie, you look beautiful, I’m so sorry I’m late but it’s so good to be here.”

“Aw no don’t worry about it,” she goes in for another quick hug. “I’m just happy you got to come. Gray said the bloke you work for is a nightmare. Tell us do we know him?”

“Ah,” I wasn’t really supposed to talk about him according to my nda. “I dunno if you would. Anyway I’m going to try to steal some of Gray’s leftovers until dessert comes.”

I sit beside Gray where the seat had been left empty and smile up at him, hoping for forgiveness. He sighs and kisses my forehead, pushing his plate towards me.

“Go ahead, have you eaten?”

I had a banana and a yoghurt for lunch but I don’t tell him, just making a vague answer for yes and scarfing down what’s left.

“She got a tattoo,” he says in my ear later as the restaurant finishes singing happy birthday and a cake with sparklers is set down. He’d gotten tipsy and I can tell because he wants to talk about his upsets.

“She’s a grown woman Gray,” I know he was protective and a little traditional—that’s where half of their sibling fights originated, but I always told him he had to let loose a little. “She’s allowed to get it. If I remember you have some tattoos of your own.”

“It’s different y/n.”

“She’s getting older faster than we can keep up with huh?” I lean my head against Gray’s shoulder and let out a big sigh. It feels good, sitting with him here surrounded by friends. It had been a while.

Gray leans his head against mine and doesn’t answer. We watch her friends take pictures like proud parents, watching her cut and then distribute the cake. I should help, but I just could not lift a finger.

“Hey y/n, is that your phone going off?” Josie’s friend beside me points to my facedown phone.

“Is it?” I sit up, my heart doing a number in my chest.

I pick it up, 2 missed calls from Harry and 3 texts. Fuck.

“Leave it,” Gray must be looking over my shoulder. “You’ve gone home now just screw him.”

“I can’t,” I didn’t want Gray getting mad—I know he was kinda drunk and he could make a scene like this. I didn’t want to ruin Josie’s celebration. But I couldn’t ignore this. This is the first time Harry’s messaged me after I’ve gone home. “I’ll take it outside.”

On my way to the door I open the messages. A picture of a bucket filled with ice. A row of question marks. And then: call me

What? What was so urgent about a bucket of-

Oh.

Fuck.

I thought I did everything but I hadn’t. I’d filled the bucket with ice and meant to ask the Italian restaurant around the corner to deliver a bottle like they usually did for Harry but I hadn’t gotten to that part.

I feel like I’m going to vomit any dinner I just had.

I crouch down. Do I call him? Do I pretend I didn’t see this until too late? No. I had to face up. I fucked up.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

I call with shaking hands but it rings and rings and goes straight to voicemail. I try again.

I had to get back, get him the champagne. Fix my mistake.

“Y/N,” Grayson’s suddenly outside. “Aren’t you coming back in?”

“I can’t. I…” how do I explain this to my fiancé without it sounding minor as hell. “I forgot to mail some important documents and I need to get back-“

“It’s Saturday fucking night.”

“Yeah but-“

“And guess what?! Tomorrow’s Sunday! The mail’s going nowhere! Fuck that wanker and come back in.”

Gray holds out his arms and I want to go back in but I need to fix this mistake.

I grasp his hand and he smiles, misunderstanding why I held it, “Gray I have to go-“

He pulls his hand away, a sneer on his face. It hurts when he looks at me that way, like I betrayed him.

“I showed up! I celebrated, I got here Gray I just have to-“

“You were barely here! Do you know how upset she was when I said you couldn’t make it?”

“Well why did you say that!?” I demand. “I told you I was only going to be late!”

“I can’t trust that!” He shouts and I try to pull his arm so he quiets but he doesn’t seem to care there are people around. “Your time is all his, every single fucking second! And when you’re not there your brain is going a million bajillion times over about him and his life. Even when you’re with me! What the fuck! What’s up with that!?”

“Gray I’m sorry look I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I swear. I’ll make it up to your sister I-“

“I don’t care y/n,” Gray slips his arm out of my grasp. “Do whatever you want. Nothing I say matters anymore anyway right?”

“Gray,” tears streak my face as I watch the man I love go back inside without another look my way.

Fuck Harry.

I try to call him again but voicemail. Again. Fuck!

What to do when you make a mistake: admit to it—Harry appreciates accountability. FIX IT! As much as you can. FIX YOUR MISTAKES OR FACE CONSEQUENCES.

An alert that my uber was here pings my phone—I take the ride to the restaurant and grab an already chilled bottle. I book it to Harry’s building and ride the elevator up, every floor causing a further dip in my stomach.

The doors open to a dimly lit space. There’s music playing, something jazzy, and it smells like…vanilla? Vanilla roses?

“Hol-hold on,” I hear Harry chuckle. A head pops up from the other side of the sofa.

“Y/n?” He looks as confused as I am.

Oh my god, I realize as a giggle comes from the floor. They were on the fucking floor of the living room? They were on the floor of the living room f…what the fuck did I walk into?

“Just back with this,” I squeak, holding up the bottle.

“Harry did you invite someone else?” The voice asks from below with another laugh. He sighs, disappearing again. I hear a very distinct wet noise before he pops back up again, I look at the doors of the elevator trying even harder not to give in to the panic attack that was looking more and more tempting.

“What are you doing here?” Harry approaches me with a softened voice. Wearing a robe. A silk robe. I knew he wore silk.

“You called—the bottle I’m sorry it totally slipped my mind I-“

“I told you to call me?”

“I did, you didn’t pick up! I thought I should swing by-“

“I thought you had a party?” His forehead scrunches.

“I…” the pieces come together. Did I take this too seriously because Harry didn’t even look angry? Great. I was an idiot and proving to Harry I had no life. “It ended. Early. I…I wanted to fix my mistake and bring the bottle.”

He takes it from my hand, still confused. “Y/N.”

I wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. And lord, in this climate with him in just a robe hearing my name on his lips is not okay. I was going to pass out.

“I’ll leave.” I go back to the elevator but he starts talking again.

“I asked you to call me so I could ask-“ he stops when I turn back around to listen. He closes the gap between us again with a sigh, and I don’t realize my face was still streaked with tears. It was probably more noticeable in the elevator light. He takes his finger and swipes across my cheek, his brows furrowing.

“Sorry,” I swipe my cheek to remove the remaining evidence. “I’ll leave you to it.”

He clears his throat and takes a step back. “Thank you for coming back.”

I nod.

“If you’re going to leave early next time, make sure you finish everything I’ve asked you to do. Don’t skip out like this again.”

“Yes yeah of course,” I stutter, relieved to fit back into our usual roles. For a second there, I thought Harry was going to be kind. And that would have been way worse.

“Good night Y/N. See you Monday.”

“Good night Mr. Styles.”

Gray’s not home by the time I get back. I wake the next morning to his side untouched.

So I do the only thing that felt good these days, I curl up into a ball and cry.

***

Taglist - leave me a message if you’d like to join it :)

#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #asks #harry styles angst #harry styles series #musician!harry #dos and donts #ahhh #i didn’t edit this too much it all kind of came out at once #so ignore any errors #hope this is fun to read #it was fun to write

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itstheghostofmypast · 3 months

Text

Meow (Chp-3)

Choi San x (f)Reader

Summary: He had spent an entire millennia in solitude, waiting for her to come back to him, bearing this curse that was a constant reminder of his ignorance, his mistake, and his guilt. He had forgotten how fate had always been cruel to him, punishing him for all he had done, and so be it, meeting her in the 21st century should have brought him joy- there was only one problem, his love for her may not have decreased a drop, but she may love Poofy more than she ever loved him.

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 4.3k

Est Read Time: 21 min

Warnings: death of a major character, war, PTSD.

Rating: nc-17

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Masterlist I Chp-2

"Bullshit"

Sighing for the nineteenth time, Wooyoung growled, glancing at Jongho who just shook his head letting out a dry chuckle, walking "Stubborn as ever."

"You really think I’d buy this crap?" Yunho sat up, rubbing the back of his neck, "Where the heck is he anyway? You guys give me poofy- I MEAN SAN and I'll let you all go."

"It's almost time." Wooyoung sighed, staring out the penthouse window, watching the sun sink over the horizon, its streaks of orange slowly fading, "Yunho, you may not believe us, but you need to understand that San doesn't mean to harm her. He didn't back then as well." Yunho stood up, walking over to the glass wall, amazed at the view, how exactly did a few hooligans like them afford a penthouse in one of the most expensive places in the city?

"How do you even afford this place" he turned to look at Wooyoung, though he saw nothing in his eye view, "Wooyoung?"

A little chirp caught his ears, eyes flickering down to spot a red fox staring up at him, its fluffy tail swishing side to side at the back, "What the -"

"He's growing weaker." Jongho interrupted him, walking into the room, Yunho turned to look at Jongho who threw something at him.

His muscle memory reacting, with quick reflexes he caught the item, before opening his palm and staring at the keys, the keychain in particular, the golden retriever shining in all its glory. A gift, more like his graduation gift, he remembers when she gave it to him, once he graduated from the police academy.

“Lock the door on your way out, I’m going to my room”, Jongho mumbled, eying the way he had been standing there, staring at the keychain, he could smell traces of her on him, hell, all of them could smell her scent on him, and even if Seonghwa was not going to admit it out loud, all of them could see why San had decided to trigger her memories without consulting with them first. He was scared, and unlike last time, he was not going to risk losing her, not again, but this rashness would bring nothing but the worst, and as much as Jongho loved his brother, he knew the others, nor him, could physically or mentally endure for any longer, and knowing San had been using magic almost every night just meant his condition was worse than theirs combined, which would explain the man’s calm behaviour when Yunho had socked him in the face- it wasn’t guilt the only factor that had forced him to accept the beating, but his depleting health as well.

“Wait!” Yunho called down, speeding walking after the man who went down the corridor, finally stopping at the door at the end of the hallway, he was about to close the door when Yunho stopped him with his foot, “Finish, the story, what happened next, I-

“I don’t have enough time Yunho, I- I don’t want you to see me like this… you need to remember, just think, it’ll come to you…hopefully.” With that, he closed the door before Yunho could even ask what he even meant by that, he was about to knock on the wood until he heard a low animalist growl, a cry if you could call it. Something at the back of his mind nagged him to open the door, to see what was on the other side, and perhaps he would have, but when he heard his phone’s ringtone, his body went on auto, moving towards the sound. Luckily he had found it at the console table, next to a sticky note and coupon, picking up the coupon he looked at the deal, ‘buy one kitty-kat cupcake and get a beverage of your choice for free’, he stared at the neon sticky note, the knot in his stomach tightening at the feeling of unease settling in,

‘A thank you gift, for letting Sannie go. PS- really missed you, Yuyu – Love Woo.’

“Where have you been?” Mingi asked, not looking away from his phone, “Captain almost lost a kidney when he found out you took a sick leave.”

Sighing as he got into the elevator the taller man glanced at his friend before shaking his head, “Yeah, I felt…under the weather.” He said before walking out onto their floor, Mingi followed after, noticing how Hongjoong’s door was closed, he must be having a meeting. He sat down at his desk, right across Yunho’s, usually his friend would be radiating the same energy as a golden retriever, hence the nickname, and the uncanny keychain of his, but tonight he just looked a bit too glum. Clearing his throat he eyed the man, who was busy cleaning out his desk drawer, slamming file upon file on the table.

“You okay there, buddy?” he asked, turning on his monitor, though his eyes never left the brunette’s mumbling form.

“No, Mingi, because I just realized I’m in love.” He sighed, stopping his little sissy fit as he looked at Mingi, who looked like he was about to implode at the revelation.

“What?”

“Never mind.” Huffing he got up, pulling on his jacket, “Don’t tell the captain I came, although knowing him he’s already seen me, if he asks, tell him I have diarrhea or something.” With that he walked away, not even waiting for Mingi when he pressed the elevator button, instead choosing to go down the emergency staircase, it was all getting a bit too loud, his thoughts, the people, the constant ringing of the phone, to top it all off, he had realized how he had not received a single text from her all day, not even a reply to his good morning, so what exactly was he chasing after- when did this become a chase anyway? Were they not just friends, best friends at max?

Slamming the car door shut he sighed, leaning back against the headrest, Yunho was not one to lose composure, in fact, he rarely lost his cool, but the thought of her- this pestering lingering thought of losing her was bothering him, on top of that today’s events had begun to haunt him, he had seen and gone through hell today; first, he encountered a naked man in her apartment, then he took said man to his place of work which was filled with creeps he called his brothers, a man spoke in his head, he got flung across the room by another man and finally he witnessed someone morph into an animal- the worst part of the situation was that no one was ever going to believe him. Not even her, in fact, she would just laugh at him and how on a normal day he would love to hear the sound of that, he would not appreciate it being directed at him when he was so overstimulated by his feelings and the situation at hand. Picking up his phone he stared at the time, 8.09 pm, she should’ve been home by now, yet, he had received not a text from her, nothing at all. What if something had happened to her? What if that man had done something to her? But they did keep on saying how they never wanted to hurt her, especially the man, San, he was persistent that his intentions with her were pure and- Officer Jeong, since when did we pay mind to emotions over rationality?

He was almost about to go into cop mode until his phone tinged, a familiar tune – a special tune- he had set only for her. Pulling out his phone he stared at the notification, tapping the screen for the message to open,

“Heyy, sorry I was busy today. How was your day? Mine was shit- I want a whole year off. We should definitely go on a vacation- like somewhere warm? Tropical? Though it should be somewhere we can take Poofy, I’d like my beloved boys to get along. Speaking of getting along, my poor baby has a swollen eye, idk, who hit him, or maybe it was another cat? Anyway, enough about us. I hope Gotham is a bit safer tonight thanks to you my knock-off Batman. Again, I’m sorry I couldn’t reply today. Stay safe, Yuyu.”

Sighing he locked the screen and tossed the phone to the passenger seat, of course, she’d apologise to him, of course, she’d take the blame and beat around the bush, of course, she’d make his heart clench, but what was worse that he may have not been losing his mind. Poofy and swollen eye, memories of today flashing before his eyes, how he had punched Poofy, knowing very well the man would have a black eye. Moreover, she had called him Yuyu, she was the only one to ever call him that, yet tonight, someone else had called him that too, the fox guy, and not once did he ever mention his name to anyone there, especially not his nickname. So, the real question is, if it were true, and the whole past life scenario was true then why couldn't he remember? Why couldn't she remember? He kept jumping from one train of thought to another, no longer driving home but to the only place that made him feel safe, he didn't care what time it was, or the gravity of the information that was brought down upon him today.

He wasn't even sure when he had reached the door, until his knuckles knocked on the wood, echoing in the quiet of the night. He knew everyone was asleep, he knew it was late, he knew she was asleep, but he couldn't wait, he couldn't think straight when something at the back of his mind kept bothering him, the question he was too afraid to find the answer of; am I... going to lose her in this life too?

The persistent knocking didn't stop until the door swung open, revealing a tired, dishevelled woman, staring up at him through sleep-deprived eyes, her bedhead hair just adding to her appeal, suddenly the dread that had been simmering within him began to settle down, replaced by a wave of admiration, wanting nothing more than to be surrounded by her.

“May I come in?” he whispered, watching her glare at him.

“It's midnight.”

The statement meant nothing, it held no malice or anger and wasn’t even a warning, but for him, he knew what it meant, she was upset and she wanted him to know, of course she was, he never responded to her goodnight note, for which he knew he was going to pay later, but perhaps he wanted to hear her yell at him too, just till it lasts.

“I know, I’m sorry…I- I’ll make us my midnight special dish?”

Reluctantly, she moved to let him in, locking the door once he was inside, sighing when he strolled inside like he owned the place, technically he did, he was often found here, if not at the precinct, which would explain why her neighbours assumed the two had something going on, until she had clarified to the old lady next door that the two were in fact just very good friends, though she chose not to truly believe her.

“Wake me up once your apology is ready.” Mumbling she stomped into her room, earning a sigh from him, as she slammed the door shut. Poofy snapped awake, his head snapping in every direction, eyes wide and glowing in the dark, looking for her, how did he not notice her leave? Were his senses getting duller or was he getting weaker? Was this because of the overuse of his powers or because he was injured? Truth be told he hadn’t even seen Yunho when he pounced on him, after deflecting the knife he almost lost all focus, the fatigue getting too much- that would explain how Yunho had found him in the first place. He had slipped away before she woke up,

“It’s okay baby, I’m here.” She whispered, fingers brushing over his fur causing him to purr, muzzling into her palm as she chuckled, leaning closer to peck the top of his head, scrunching her nose at the scent, “Did I give you a bath with my shampoo last time? You smell like my shampoo- damn I should be more careful, sorry baby.” Snuggling deeper inside her blanket she pulled him closer like a teddy bear, he let her do as she pleased, enjoying the attention. Truth be told he smelt like her shampoo because that’s what he used, Jongho had told him to change it but he didn’t follow, he wanted to be enveloped by her scent all the time, it helped calm down his nerves, relaxed him and considering how he was always on edge, he really needed the stimulant.

Yunho sighed, ripping open a packet of instant ramen, and placing it aside, watching the water boil. He had chopped all the vegetables and even fried the chicken tenders for her, sliced them up nicely to decorate her bowl later. They had invented this dish back in their fun days at college, way before Poofy had entered their lives, when he had her undivided attention and affection, though who was he to hold her accountable for playing with his feelings when it was him who had led her own then let go of her whenever things got a bit too serious for him, to afraid to ruin their friendship.

“And now you place the tenders like this,” she smiled in triumph, garnishing his bowl and hers, before coming over to the small table and placing the tray down. He sat there legs crossed on the heated floor, looking at her in the small open kitchen, smiling at the thought of what their domestic lives would comprise together. Turning back to stare at the table in front of him, she had called him over to her dorm at 2 am, their child psychology exam waiting for them at 7 am, yet, he was here, ready for a late-night snack with her, one she had just invented instead of studying.

“Hmm?” he looked down at the bowl she placed in front of him, smiling at how he had received the bigger one. ‘A big serving for the lanky growing boy.’ She’d always say, much to his pleasure.

“I’m telling you, once we have this and go to sleep, tomorrow will go great.”

“Oh?” he cocked a brow, before reaching for her glass, pouring her some soda, “Because we’ll remember everything for the exam?”

“Nah girl, that we might fail tomorrow, but we’ll have our tummies full of yummy food.” With that she began eating not even looking up at him when he choked on his spit, laughing louder than anyone would want at 2 am, sure, leave it up to Jeong Yunho to get you kicked out of the girl’s dorms for laughing too loud.

Indeed, the two did fail the exam the next morning, but the memories they had created were far better than any result.

Poofy was almost asleep, blinking slowly at her drowsy form, until they heard a pot fall in the kitchen, followed by a masculine apology- shit, who was that. He didn’t even wait for her to answer and ran out at full speed, making a sharp turn to the kitchen, bouncing off the wall, ready to pounce on the intruder, he couldn’t transform into his beast form, especially since that day, he couldn’t even morph back into a human till sunrise, but that wasn’t going to scare him. With a hiss the cat pounced into the kitchen, landing on the tiles right in front of the intruder- Yunho?

Yunho’s ears caught the bell chiming across the hall, he could hear the quick padding of the cat’s soft paws, and he prayed to God that it was just a normal cat and not who he feared, but once again fate was not on his side, for as soon as his eyes landed on the cat’s swollen eye, he knew for a fact this was his doing. Sighing he placed a bowl of milk in front of the cat, who looked at it then Yunho, only to smack it away and hiss at him.

“Look, I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you last time buddy, but, I- I can’t just- I need some time okay?” he sighed before picking up the tray of food, turning to walking out the door but the cat stopped him, standing in front of him growling.

“You don’t understand San, I can’t let her go…I love her.” With that he walked over the frozen cat, who was staring blankly at nothing, too stunned by his words to even process what was happening, the only thing that had brought him back to reality was the sounds of her muffled laughter, causing him to turn and look down the hallway, noticing how her bedroom door was closed- she never closed the door, it was always left ajar so he could come and go as he pleased, yet here he was staring at her door with blurry eyes, feeling more nauseous than he did that day.

Yunho walked towards the main door, glancing at the ball of fur curled up on the far end of the couch, sighing to himself, a part of him telling him what he was doing was perfectly fine, he had no reason to believe or help out these people, but something deep down begged at him to stop, to not give into his ways and listen to the good that resided with him. With one more glance he closed the door, leaving both sleeping parties alone in the cold of the apartment, while he had tucked her in, he left the cat there, cold as ever, leaving at the early hours of the day.

His ear turned to the door once it closed, sitting up he stared at the turned-off TV, staring at his feline reflection, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath once he heard the subtle chirping of the birds from outside, waiting for the curse to lift, welcoming the gentle, warm light of the sun. At one point in his life, he loved the night, the way the stars would shine above him, watching him perform his duty wholeheartedly, keeping the valley safe and quiet. Moreover, he loved how the moon had witnessed the first time he declared his love for her, the moon had witnessed when she had shied away from the kiss, coyly mumbling how they were not wed, thus they could not perform such an act of intimacy. The moon had watched her favourite soldier proudly, watching him with great intent as he held himself back, trying not to fall onto his knees in front of her, to cry in joy at her innocence and pure heart, he truly wondered what he had done to deserve to call someone like her his own.

Unfortunately, as much as the moon had witnessed her favourite being an exemplary creature, she had also been there to bear the sight of her favourite turning into a beast, of him letting envy wrap him in her green cloak, watching him push away the one he claimed to love, the one who had given him her everything, body and soul, yet, the moon still gave him time to make amends, to try to heal the wounds he had caused, much to her displeasure, he had not, both pride and envy being his companions, letting him destroy the plan destiny had laid down for him, leading to an eventual demise of everything and everyone he had loved, holding onto her limp form as she stared up at him with a broken resolve, too afraid to ask for anything, too afraid to beg him, but not afraid of death that was awaiting her, even though he begged her to stay. The moon had witnessed how he broke down over her, watching how even after what he had done, she had saved him once more, only this time, it had cost her life, proving to the stars that their choice of candidate was not wrong, and it was not a human characteristic to deceive or lie, but a trait brought with pure love, one that he had felt for her, but accepted the little green dot that begun to spread upon the canvas of his heart. The moon had watched him cling onto her lifeless form before he lost all control, his brothers lost all control and did the one thing a guardian is not supposed to do, ‘harm a human’, for the moon had witnessed these fools let their emotions take over, watching them disobey her and end the fleets sent to fight them, watching them tear them down, her final straw perhaps was when her exemplary soldier’s claw’s dig into the neck of the emperor, his teeth bearing the blood of his four sons the beast had ripped apart before his eyes, eyes as black as the moonless sky, resembling the hole that lay in his chest, a cavity which was once occupied by his warm, romantic heart. The moon watched him snarl out in disgust, one last question before the head of the emperor was flung across the royal hall, his body falling limp on the ground,

‘Do you still think your daughter’s life was worth nothing?”

That was all it took for the moon to take back her blessing, perhaps the stars were on the same page, angered by this act of blasphemy, turning what was once a blessing into a curse, one that would shackle them down, bringing their egos and pride to its knees, watching them slowly succumb to their end, until they had not only made amends but had repented to fate itself, earning her favour.

He stared at the reflection, sighing as his feet pressed against the soft carpet, glad that the moon was no longer out to taunt him and mock him, but she was replaced by her brother, showing him some form of mercy for a few hours. He made his way to her bedroom, San stared at her, watching her sleep in bliss, her steady breathing almost lulling him to sleep as well, welcoming him. It had been so long since he had held her in his arms since he had laid next to her, felt her close to him- not like a feline, but all his manly glory. What if he just slipped in for a minute or two? Would she notice? Would she wake up?

Standing above her, he leaned closer, his knuckles caressing her warm cheek, watching as she nuzzled into her pillow, mumbling something about Poofy- ah yes, she still loved Poofy, this was another issue, only Yunho being in love with her just added more to his plate. How was he going to handle all of this? At this point, he knew that time was not on his side and even though he would willingly succumb to death, if it meant that she would remain happy and safe, even if it were with Yunho, he could not let his brothers suffer because of him- how were his actions justifiable, if they had partaken in the war, it was only because they had lost their brothers as well, which was only caused by the ripple effect of San’s own action’s, his prejudice and disdain. Leaning closer he pressed his lips to her forehead, whispering the usual spell, making sure the enchantment was well recited to keep her safe and out of harm’s way.

“How I wish I could hold you once more, my love.” He whispered, before pulling back and going across the room to open the window, staring up at the pastel colours of the sunrise, taking a deep breath he turned to glance at her one last time, “I beg you, do not forget me, for as much as I am in pain right now, the thought of my memories leaving your essence will rip me apart worse than death could possibly intend to, even at his peak.” With that he hopped out onto the emergency staircase, slowly making his way downstairs as he thought about doing that one thing he did not do the last time he was in trouble, ‘ask his brothers for help’.

Bonus:

‘In love?’ Seonghwa mumbled, staring at his phone, still trying to understand why Wooyoung was digitally poking him through this application. Yeosang hummed in agreement, still trying to understand what San had said, narrating the events of the previous night, this was worse than the mage could imagine, the time of the course now had to be altered, perhaps increased in terms of pace.

“Aww Sannie, don’t worry I’m sure Yuyu is just confused.” Wooyoung pouted, wrapping his arm around the taller man’s shoulders, trying to help him out, only noticing how his shoulders slumped even more at the mention of Yunho’s name, “I mean, he…this isn’t the same Yunho, he still has to come to terms with it and- I bet as soon as we revive the old Yunho he’ll come to his senses.”

“This isn’t about him though, and it’s not about us,” Jongho mumbled, placing a tray of coffee on the counter, and giving each one of them their mugs, only San didn’t get a coffee, he got Jongho’s special hot chocolate to make him feel better. San had been staring at the red napkin, thumb caressing the small sunflower stitched onto the corner fabric, its once bright colours now faded into a duller tone, much like the matted red of the cloth

“Then who is this about dear baby bear?” Wooyoung snorted, at the sight of San’s ceramic purple cat mug.

“I think Sannie has the answer for that.” He sighed, before taking a sip of his bitter beverage while the other turned to look at the man who was staring at a San who was still looking at his napkin, fingers gripping onto it tighter,

“It’s about her.”

Taglist: @edenesth @mlysalt @yessa-vie @spooo00oky @cereal-simp

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nichirinpen · 1 year

Text

DILF for Hire

TojixReader

Can also be read here on Ao3

Synopsis- You hired a stranger to accompany you to an event your Ex is attending. One thing leads to another and the next thing you know he's come home with you.

Content Warning- AFAB reader descriptions, Smut, cunnilingus, Edging, vaginal penetration

~Minors DNI~

You knew it was risky using an app to find a date. There were all those horror stories about 'ChadsList' and weirdos who kidnapped women or killed them. You hadn’t wanted to use a dating app for obvious reasons, one unsolicited dick pic was enough to have you delete them forever. But this new app that had taken the world by storm seemed reputable. At least to you it did. Called " Don’t Sweat It " it touted itself as a reliable and safe network that did everything right.

Background checks? They did it. Social media checks? Also done. Hell to even sign up to the app you had to provide your driver's license and wait a month to hear back. But you got it and got in. The level of security you knew other users had to go through put you at ease.

Maybe too much at ease. Looking at the man looming over you, the thick scar near his mouth, the way his lips curled as if he were annoyed. Perhaps it was just as bad as internet rumors said.

"You're Name . Right?" His voice was deep, the tone of annoyance sending a shiver down your spine. The man was tall, so tall he was half titled to look down at you as he waited. You nodded stiffly, looking at the app confirmation that sat cheerfully on your phone. The clean shaven smiling man in the photo was for sure him.

"You're Toji?" Your voice came out as a squeak, the words half strangled. Clearing your throat you blushed, looking back down at the app. It was indeed Toji, he looked exactly like the photo on his ad space.

That's how the app worked. They knew people wanted a reputable site for odd jobs and requests so one was built. Part of it functioned for the buying and selling of goods, the other half for finding someone to fulfill a request. Need a babysitter for a night, they had hundreds. Need someone to take grandpa to the doctor? Pick your driver. And for you, sadly, you had entered a search for a companion. Specifically one who would go to a company party with you and play boyfriend for a few hours. After scrolling past people who were definitely way too young to use the app, you had found Toji. Profile had stated he was a single dad, 34. The ad in question, " Anything goes ".

You sincerely hoped not. More so for his sake and his kid. Toji looked like he could crush someone with his bare hands but you still found the ad a tad reckless.

"So what's the plan?" His gruff voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you blinked rapidly to clear your head.

"Well. Tonight at 8 pm there's a company dinner I have to attend. Like I messaged earlier, I don't want to go alone."

Toji nodded, leaning back against the glass display he was next to. The fake cakes glittered obnoxiously, their cheerful sign telling you to ‘ check out the third floor! ’ You waited nervously, glancing about the busy space. Being smart was one thing you had wanted to do, so the local mall had seemed like the best place to meet him. Shoppers bustled about the well lit stores, chatter over-layed the low music that seeped from the old speakers. It wasn’t as packed as it normally was but that suited you just fine. There were security cameras and other people if he tried anything.

"Is that why you're all dressed up?" His question sounded judgmental. You flushed, looking down at your dress and heels. The elegant black dress paired with your favorite black heels was a muted choice. You wanted to look good but not stand out. Even so. The neckline swooped low, your breast pushed up nicely by the built in bra. And the dress hugged your form, leaving rather little to the imagination. It had been custom tailored after all, a gift of sorts meant for another occasion. You bit your lip in frustration. It made you feel like a clown wearing it in the middle of a mall where kids bustled past, pizza in hand.

"It is indeed." It was also why you had asked him to dress nice. Apparently Toji's interpretation was a tight black shirt and sweatpants. They complimented his form, but not at all what you had in mind. He looked like he was ready to go to the gym, not sit at a 5 star hotel bar and down liquor.

"We need to get you a suit." Your words seemed to annoy the man slightly. His eyebrows twitching as if he were trying to suppress a nasty comeback. Toji simply nodded and gestured for you to lead the way.

You did so, wobbling slightly in the heels as you made your way across the mall to a suit shop. It was the oldest store in the mall, it's elderly owner, one you knew well unfortunately. As you made your way to his shop you glanced at your wrist watch. 6:58 pm . Would that be enough time? You hoped so.

The bell above the door signaled your entry, the little old man scurrying from the back with a huge smile on his face. Mr. Itadori looked tired, the lines on his face deep. You noted the lack of his grandson in the shop. Poor old man must be working overtime.

"Ms. Name !!" How pleasant to see you again!" Mr. Itadori’s cheerful countenance made you feel guilty for some reason. The old man took your hands with a smile. His dry hands felt like cold paper against yours. Squeezing them gently you shot him a small smile.

"Picking up a suit for Gojo?"

You shook your head slowly. "Uh no. Gojo is. Gojo bro..." You paused, finding the words stuck in your throat. The old man looked at you worriedly, his fluffy eyebrows pinching as he waited.

"I need a suit for my friend!" You went for the easy route, gesturing to Toji. Mr. Itadori shot you a look before turning and sizing up the tall man. Your companion towered over him, his face stoic.

"Silly Toji here forgot about the company dinner tonight. So we rushed over here!". The forced cheerfulness in your voice was so blatant. You winced, knowing you had no one here fooled. Just a little longer and you could be out of here. Away from the questions that lingered in Mr. Itadori’s gaze. He would never ask, he was far too polite, but you could see he knew exactly what you weren’t saying. And he pitied you for it.

You waited as the old man took measurements and hummed over the fabric. He moved like lightning back and forth from one suit rack to the next. Toji watched impassively, his green eyes occasionally flicking over to where you sat. You hoped he would just quietly accept this and that the night would go over well. Paying 1,000 dollars for essentially a glorified escort was going to make a dent in your savings. Part of you was ashamed, the thought of using funds for such a stupid reason made you want to curl into a ball from embarrassment. But the part of you that was angry, hurt and betrayed, was stronger. 1,000 was a small price to pay if it would make Gojo Satoru jealous and maybe even hurt.

“I'm thinking we play off the black you are wearing dear.” You jumped slightly at Mr. Itadori’s voice. Nodding, you quickly focused, shoving the anger that had welled up back down. The small old man stood in front of Toji, holding a black suit with a dark red button up underneath. You tilted your head at the combo, but nodded. Mr. Itadori had been making suits for 60 years according to him. You were not about to question a master tradesman. Mr. Itadori quickly closed the curtains around the dressing area, scurrying over to you as you both waited.

“He’s a nice looking fellow.” His statement had a question hidden under it. You hummed, deciding to not open that can of worms. Mr. Itadori hummed back, his keen eyes peering at you from under bushy eyebrows.

“I’ll never give him another discount on suits.” You turned at the words, frowning slightly. Mr. Itadori jerked his head towards the shop front, gesturing to nothing in particular.

“You’re a nice woman, Gojo was lucky you ever gave him the time of day.” Mr. Itadori’s brows were furrowed as he scowled up at the ceiling. He seemed genuinely disappointed in the other man. You smiled, patting his hand gently. “You don’t have to change your business up because of me. I know he’s one of your top clients.”

Mr. Itadori grumbled, crossing his arms, “Well maybe I'll just stick him with a pin now and then.”

You laughed at that, shaking your head at the old man. He seemed pleased by your reaction, his expression clearing into a cheerful grin. Both of you turned in surprise as the curtain was roughly shoved back, revealing Toji fully dressed. The suit looked good on him, really good. You weren’t sure if it was just him or if Mr. Itadori was that good at his job. The black fabric clung in all the right places, emphasizing the muscles that sat tense beneath.

“Hmmm which tie.” Mr. Itadori held up a few, all of which Toji brushed away.

“This is good.” He unhooked the first 3 buttons of his shirt, exposing his collarbone and neck. You pretended not to see, turning to Mr. Itadori and digging through your clutch. Pulling your debit card from its spot, you handed it over with reluctance. A new suit was not on your list of monthly expenses. But hey you had come this far right?

“Ah, no.” You nearly jumped out of your skin as Toji pressed against you, the hard plane of his chest snug against your shoulder. The man knocked your hand from its outstretched position, offering up his card instead. Your eyebrows raised at that and you looked up questioningly. Toji said nothing, his nostrils flaring slightly as he looked at you.

No, not quite. You felt your cheeks and neck flush, he was very blatantly staring down your dress. The angle from his height gave him a nice view of the tops of your breasts and the hidden skin of your sternum that the dress was covering. Pretending not to notice you shifted, tucking your debit card away in your clutch.

After paying you hurriedly left the store, your watch said 7:20 . That was the perfect amount of time to get a cab to the venue. You wobbled your way down the stairs to the first floor, hell bent on making it to the front doors. Toji followed behind slowly, his hand stuffed deep in his suit pockets. He seemed unbothered whereas you were all nerves. Your stomach clenched and you again began wondering if this was a bad idea. The quest for revenge or at least a small slice of it seemed to be paved with stupidity. You chewed at your bottom lip as you pulled up the cab app. It cheerfully asked for your destination which you input with slightly trembling fingers. Pushing through the front doors of the mall, you input your address and almost immediately got a ride confirmation. Thankfully there was one a block away and you sighed as you stood at the curb waiting.

“So how bad did this guy fuck up?” Toji’s voice was low and even, his eyes roaming over your form as you turned to look at him. The question confused you for just a moment, but one look at his smug, almost cat-like smirk, you knew what he meant. Toji knew exactly why he was hired without you being forthcoming.

“Uh well.” You tapped your foot nervously against the sidewalk. The cab turned into the mall parking lot and you waited, not sure what to say. It skidded to a halt near you, the back doors unlatching. Toji opened your door for you, allowing you to slide in before he made his way around the other side. Once he was settled the cab was off, the driver quietly ignoring the two of you. With the divider in between, you knew that he couldn’t hear, not that it mattered.

“We dated for 6 years.” You leaned back in the seat with a sigh, tilting your head to look up at Toji. The man nodded, his expression apathetic.

“I bought this dress for an evening that was planned.” You paused, feeling that icy clench in your heart. It hurt to say these things out loud. You had barely acknowledged them the past few weeks, drowning your feelings with too much work and way too much pizza. But you had to confront them, that was the whole point of tonight.

“Uh three weeks ago we were supposed to sit down and he was going to propose.” You looked away from the man, your gaze locked on your reflection in the window. Toji was reflected as well, his eyes skipping over your form as he waited.

“Instead the day before I get a text. All it said was ‘It’s over ’.” You clenched your fists, your fingernails biting into your palms as you thought of the message. Of the calls being denied and then eventually you being blocked. It was as if 6 years hadn’t happened. As if you were a stranger pestering him. No goodbye, no explanation. Just over.

“Sounds like a pretentious prick.” Toji huffed. You glanced at him, slightly surprised. The older man shrugged at you, his expression impassive.

“He told you when he was going to propose?” The man shook his head, dark hair obscuring his eyes slightly. “Tacky.”

You shrugged, looking down at your hands. Truth be told you had disliked the fact that he had told you, that it had been so planned out. But that was Gojo Satoru. He was the son of a successful CEO, his life wasn’t just handed to him but also meticulously planned out. Every last detail, including breaking up with you. Your stomach churned at the thought of seeing him. What was that saying? Don’t date coworkers. You were feeling the consequences of ignoring that big time.

“It is what it is.” You sighed, glancing back out the window. A large rough hand was on your thigh, thick fingers squeezing gently. You jumped slightly, heat rushing through your veins as you stared at him. Toji shot you a smirk, fingers tightening again as he squeezed your thigh.

“Hey you paid me for the night. Let’s give the little bastard a good show eh?”

You laughed in surprise, one hand pressing against your mouth as a snort left you. Out of all the things he could say, all the reactions, this was different. Everyone else had given you sympathy mixed with a hint of ‘I told you so ’. It had infuriated you to no end the sorry and the looks that said that you should have seen this coming. Even worse, your mother making that face you knew meant ‘ What did you do wrong? ’.

But Toji? The man had withdrawn his hand but his smirk stayed the same. He looked like he lived for fucking around with people. Your eyes went to his hand, now resting in his lap. Toji had nice hands, the skin was nicked with small scars here and there, but they were charming. In an odd way.

The cab lurched to a halt and you felt your heart drop. There was the hotel, in its shiny glory. Bright lights flashed outside, a small group of press loitering around the entrance. Of course they were. Gojo posed for the camera like no other high society figure. He reveled in it. You hated it, the flashing lights, the lewd questions. Always entertained by the white haired man but never you. Nothing was worse than being splashed across the front page of a tabloid. What had they called you? ‘ The Mouse.’ You grimaced, unbuckling your seat belt.

Toji had already exited the car, yanking your door open and extending his hand. You raised an eyebrow as you stepped out, gently sliding your arm around his. Toji took the lead, his large shoulders easily punting a reporter aside as he made his way up the stairs. You kept your head ducked slightly, hoping that the unfamiliar man and your lack of flair would keep them disinterested.

“Hey, it's Ms. Mouse!” You flinched at the shout, your hand tightening on Toji’s arm. He looked down at you, taking in your pinched expression and tense body. From behind you could hear the reporter shouting again, the man’s greasy voice drawing the attention of the other reporters.

God this was a nightmare. You should have never come out.

Your heart dropped as you felt Toji’s arm leaving yours. Was this too much? You hadn’t exactly been upfront with the man. The request was simply ‘Need a date for a work event.’ .

“What the fuck did you just call my girl?” Toji barked. You watched, flabbergasted as his large hand whipped out, grabbing the weasel looking reporter by the scruff of his jacket. Toji shook the man slightly, snapping the question again. The reporter looked mortified, his waxy face going pale as he stuttered excuses and apologies. Toji merely scoffed, shaking his head before letting the man go. You watched as the reporter fell on his ass, sliding a few steps down before he caught himself.

“Let’s go.” Toji placed his hand against your waist, guiding you up the last few steps. The doormen swung the heavy gilded doors in, bowing as the two of you entered. You flashed your work badge to the security detail, Mr. Panda. The large man smiled at you, his signature hair buns wiggling slightly as you were let into the event. It was packed, event staff and your company's many employees bustling about. You recognised a few faces here and there, but the place was so packed it was hard to get anyone’s attention. Not that you necessarily wanted to at the moment. No, the target of tonight's actions would suffice.

“Ms. Mouse.” Toji snatched a champagne glass from a nearby waiter, downing it in one gulp. You nodded at his words, feeling slightly awkward. He was a stranger and yet, he was being shown the most awful and anxiety-inducing parts of your life.

“You act more like a mink.” He shot you a smile, the words and action making your heart swell for some reason. You coughed, trying to think what to say. The skin of your ears burned slightly and you hoped he hadn’t noticed. Words failed you as you trailed to the large gilded bar. Sliding up to the counter, you signaled the bartender. The young woman flashed a smile nodding dutifully as you asked for a Bailey’s.

“Irish liquor?” Toji leaned against the bar, not bothering to leave much space between the two of you. His hip pressed against yours, the warmth spreading across your skin. You nodded in response to his question, shoulders shrugging. As your drink was passed to you, you nearly spat it out as Toji asked for vodka, no ice. Shooting him a look, he merely smiled.

“I like the strong stuff, puts hair on your chest.”

You snorted in response, taking another sip of your drink, “Oh yeah you can attest to that?” The words were teasing, playful, but you could see Toji’s pupils dilate slightly at the words. He leaned in, one large finger playfully sliding down your right bicep. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Mink.”

You hummed in response, the lack of words more due to you attempting to regain composure. His teasing tone and finger had your stomach fluttering. A low heat pooling in your nethers as he slid the finger back up to your shoulder.

“Oh My God!” You both flinched at the loud squeal that rang out across the venue. It was so shrill the sound somehow was louder than the rest of the party. You knew that voice all too well, with a sinking heart, you turned, glancing over your shoulder at the commotion. It was Gojo of course, his new shiny pink haired fiance plastered to his side. She was the one squealing, her shiny skin and lips reflecting the party lights all too well.

“Jesus how much plastic is pumped into that bimbo?” Toji’s question made you chuckle. He wasn’t wrong, the woman looked like she was three surgeries away from being on one of those botched surgery shows. Not that it mattered to her, no being the heiress of a large makeup company meant she had little to worry about. Especially so with her future husband secured before any surgery could go wrong.

The squealing was apparently about jewelry, because of course it was. The man was laughing, his stupid suit sparkling slightly under the bright light. It made him look ethereal, as always. Gojo was larger than life, otherworldly looking. And he knew it.

Part of you felt incredibly insulted. Had you not been dumped by him, had you never dated him and this was just a regular work event? Incredibly uncomfortable and inappropriate. No one would stop him of course, Son of the CEO and all that. But you could see the discomfort rippling through the ground, the shared glances and small grimaces.

You flinched as his gaze shifted, his fiance chattering away with one of her friends. Gojo’s icy blue eyes met yours, eyebrows lifting slightly. He was surprised you were here. You took a small step back as he started cutting across the crowd, your back hitting the bar.

“Can I touch you?” Toji’s odd question pulled you from your frozen state, you gaze lifting to his. The man was leaning awfully close, his warm breath tickling your forehead. His eyes crinkled in the corner and the grin he was wearing was definitely a shit eating one. Toji was up to something.

Your gaze went back to Gojo, the man stopped by a few coworkers and blessedly still several feet away. His eyes kept flicking to you however, the blue you once loved making your stomach cramp with worry. Looking back at Toji, you nodded once, wondering what he was up to. It wasn’t like he had asked to touch you early on the stairs.

Toji leaned in, one hand sliding around your waist while the other tugged your chin up, tilting your head towards his. You gasped in shock as his warm lips met yours. His tongue slid into your mouth, teeth clicking together slightly at the passion in which he kissed. Toji pressed against you, the hand at your waist sliding lower until he was grabbing a handful of your ass. It made your knees weak. His rough kiss was breathtaking, literally. You flushed, pulling away to catch your breath.

Toji smirked, his eyes not on you but over your head. Without turning you knew he was staring down Gojo. Something very few people had the balls to do around here.

“I am going to freshen up in the bathroom.” You stated shakily, your face tomato red. Also regain your composure, how many coworkers had just seen him grab your ass like that?

Toji merely smirked at your words, downing his vodka in a single gulp. You scurried away, slipping down the back hall and into the ladies room. There was no makeup to fix, you had opted for a simple lip gloss. You dabbed a wet paper towel around your lips, taking off the excess gloss that had been smeared there. There was nothing to do about the bright red of your face, time would cool your flushed cheeks. You were tempted to splash cold water on your face, but that would lead to drippy mascara.

Opting to not stress about it, you took a deep breath, puffing out your chest slightly as you fixed your dress. You looked good and you had successfully gotten in a little jab at Gojo. It wasn’t much, but it was as good as it was going to get. He was a spoiled rich boy, he would forget you and forget this moment in a matter of days.

Stepping from the bathroom, you started down the hall, back to the loud noise of the party. Your head felt slightly foggy still from the kiss, like Toji had somehow stolen your breath. Cheeks burning brighter, you felt your stomach tighten at the thought of his lips against yours again, his hands sliding over your skin.

“So who is the meathead?” You spun around, the train of thought broken. To your dismay the worst case scenario was playing out. Gojo, in his bright blue suit, stupid dark shades nestled in his hair, stood in the hall. Hands shoved deep in his pockets, he sauntered up to you. He was upset, despite his large grin. There were creases near his eyes, a slight twitch in the right corner of his mouth. Gojo was just barely keeping it together.

Toji had really gotten under his skin. You swallowed the urge to smirk, leaning against the hallway wall casually. Feigning disinterest, you gestured down the hall, back to the large crowd.

“You mean my date? Toji?”

Gojo nodded, “Yeah, since when have muscle heads been your type?” He was definitely irritated and as he took another step forward, you shrank back. The super angry part of you wanted to ask what was so great about his new bimbo fiance. But you didn’t have the heart. She wasn’t the one who broke your heart, she wasn’t the one who had ignored your texts and calls for answers. Just because she had chosen an unfortunate set of surgeries didn’t mean you could be nasty about her. It would make you no better than Gojo.

“I'm surprised a guy like him even has a suit.” Gojo laughed, the sound slightly strangled. You took another step back, lips pulling in a straight line as you attempted to swallow the small pang of fear that bubbled up in your chest. Gojo was known for always getting his way, known for jealousy. You had seen it while dating him, the anger and stonewalling he would direct at you when someone dared glance at you the wrong way. As if the glances of strangers were your fault.

“Kinda soon after a breakup to let another man shove his tongue down your throat?” His voice was much too loud, a half yell that felt like it echoed around you.

“Says the man who dumped me for a heiress.” You snapped back, crossing your arms against your chest as you leaned back, trying to avoid his advancing pace. Your words irked him, his thin white eyebrows dancing slightly as he tried and failed to hide the snarl that flashed across his face.

“You know I was going to be nice.” Gojo laughed, brushing a hand through his hair roughly. His stupid small glasses were flung off, skittering across the floor behind him. The man paid no mind, leaning forward as he spoke. He looked almost manic and as he opened his mouth again you caught a whiff of alcohol.

Just great. Drunk Gojo was a persistent asshole who would whine, yell and cry until he got his way.

“After Hillary and I got married, I was going to let you be my mistress.” He spoke with such sincerity it was laughable. You snorted, one hand coming up to cover your mouth as your brain tried and failed to think of a snappy response.

“No thank you.” A simple answer, but your words upset him, the man swaying as he took another step forward. His brow crinkled and you could see tears glistening in the corners of his eyes. He would cry, then yell until finally you crumbled. Or at least that was what he was expecting. But you were no longer dating him, no longer giving him your heart on a silver platter.

“No one else is gonna give you what I can.” His words slurred slightly, a single tear sliding down his cheek. What he was giving you was the start of a migraine. But you had no time to respond, a warm hand sliding around your waist. It was Toji, glaring at the other man. You relaxed slightly, pressing against him with a small sigh. He was a stranger but still more welcome than the sniveling man that stood in front of you.

Gojo stood up straight, his jaw clenching as he took in the tall man. His blue eyes shifted back to you, once again shining with tears.

“Please, no one else can give you what you want. Just me.” Gojo’s lips trembled as he looked at you, his eyes begging you for an answer. Instead of tugging at your heart, it made you angry. You clenched your fists, trying to think of an appropriate response.

“Full offense pal but you don’t strike me as the pussy eating type.” You let out a shriek of mixed shock and delight at Toji’s words. The man smirked at you, his fingers tightened slightly on your waist and you became painfully aware of just how warm he was. Gojo for his part was standing in shock, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Speaking of, let’s get outta here.” Toji laughed this time at your look of disbelief. You allowed him to shepard you away from Gojo, your face burning red at his words. Gojo was shouting something as you made your way to the front door, but you couldn’t hear it. Rather your mind didn’t bother to pick it up. You were too focused on Toji’s hand, it had slid back down to your ass, thick fingers squeezing the flesh gently as you walked.

“Fuck that guy.” You nodded numbly at Toji’s words, blinking as he shoved something in your hands. It was your clutch, you must’ve forgotten it at the bar. You took it gratefully, fishing your phone out clumsy.

“Your place?” Toji asked, his voice low. You blinked at him in surprise, your hands freezing mid air. What did he mean? You tilted your head, brow furrowing as you waited for him to elaborate.

“I was serious.” He gestured back towards the hotel venue. Your frown deepened. Serious about what?

“You look stressed, getting eaten out might relax you.” He spoke so matter of factly, no trace of teasing or sarcasm. His expression was genuine for the first time that night. You felt your mouth drop open as you sputtered, unsure of how to respond. Was he serious? Part of you hoped so, the thought of his head between your legs, green eyes watching as his tongue lapped at your folds. It made your knees weak.

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of that train of thought. He was still a stranger. Toji waited, a small smirk on his lips as if he knew the internal battle you were having. Plucking your phone from your hands, he opened your messaging app. You watched as he clicked on your most frequent contact, Nobara. Toji lifted the phone slightly, snapping a selfie of the two of you. In it you looked slightly dumbfounded, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. He sent the photo, then handed the phone back to you.

“Now your best friend knows how I look.”

This guy was too smooth. You bit your lip, looking down at your phone as you thought. To your place or not? As if to give you a nudge, Nobara responded. ‘Please tell me you got a piece of that beef cake.’

You opened the Cab app, quickly typing in your address. Looking back up, you wiggled the phone at the man. He smiled, slipping his arm around your waist and escorting you down the stairs. There was no more press outside blessedly, they had either left or slipped into the venue uninvited. Looking up at the night sky, you chewed at your bottom lip, heart racing as you thought of what you were about to do. This was utterly unlike you. And yet, you found yourself incredibly thrilled.

The cab arrived and as you sat in the back, you couldn’t help but bounce your leg. You could hear your heartbeat as the cab turned on familiar streets and made its way towards your apartment. Toji looked calm, leaning back against the seat as he watched you. His gaze was almost predatory, green eyes narrowed to slits. It made your heart skip a beat.

The cab stopped and for a moment you were frozen. Then you were out, walking shakily up the stairs to your apartment building. Your key card got you inside and then the two of you were making the long trek up to the 8th floor. The excitement waned slightly as you stumbled up a step, your heels catching on the metal stairs.

“Which floor?” You looked up at his question, wiggling your heel from the stupid gap between the metal slats. Toji motioned up the stairs, wordlessly asking his question again.

“Oh! 8th Floor.” He nodded, then swooped in, lifting you with ease. You squawked in surprise, the hard planes of his shoulder digging into your stomach. Toji bolted up the stairs, easily clearing the long trek in a matter of moments. You stared, impressed as he set you down. The man wasn’t even winded. He seemed to know what you were thinking, flexing his chest, the buttons of the suit visibly strained, just barely keeping together.

Your hands trembled slightly as you swiped your key-card again, your heart pounding so hard you could hear it. The thrill of doing something like this was making you dizzy with excitement. Opening the door, you tiptoed past your two neighbors to your apartment at the very end of the hall. The door creaked as you opened it and slipped inside. Toji followed, his eyes roaming around your rather messy apartment. You felt a twinge of embarrassment, the pile of clothing near the door was meant for donation, yet you hadn’t had the time or the heart to take them away just yet. Nearly everything in that pile was gifted by Gojo or something he had mentioned as his favorite. It was a sad reminder of the past, one you wished never happened.

Kicking off your heels, you crouched, rubbing at your feet. The shoes while amazing looking pinched your toes way too much. You wiggled the appendages as blood rushed back into your pinky toes.

“Did you pick this or him?” Toji’s voice sounded judgmental and as you turned to look you felt your face heating up again. He had plucked the light blue lace lingerie that had been sitting on the top of the pile. Shaking your head, you stood and snatched it from him.

“Him.” You tossed the garment back on the pile, your shoulders slightly tense. It was hitting you again that Toji was a complete stranger. You felt nervous, fingers twisting together slightly as you stared up at him.

“What do you prefer?” Toji leaned in as he asked the question, his eyes narrowed to slits. He was teasing you, his pupils dilating as he took in your look of questioning surprise.

“Honestly?” You picked at the fabric of your dress, unsure of where to look but not wanting to meet his intense gaze. “Nothing. No fancy lace, no leather or anything like that.”

Toji smiled at that, nodding. He didn’t comment on your opinion as you expected. Most men did, asking why you didn’t feel sexy or what was wrong with looking good. You thought you did look good, no wrappings or decoration needed.

“So. We’re doing this?” You gestured lamely towards your bedroom. The open door showing your black comforter and the closed blinds beyond. Toji shrugged, reaching up to undo his suit jacket buttons.

“Only if you want to. If not, I can leave.” His words hung in the air, green eyes locked on your face as he waited for your decision. You chewed at your bottom lip, gaze flicking between him and your bedroom. It wasn’t like you were drunk, quite the opposite you were fully lucid. And as odd as he was, Toji didn’t scare you, didn’t set off any alarms. In fact the only thing he set off was your arousal. The man had teased you already to the point of being wet.

Taking his large hand in yours, you led him to the bedroom, closing the door behind you. The apartment complex was touted as being sound proof, but you still didn’t want your floor neighbors hearing anything.

Turning back to him, you held your arms awkwardly to your sides, unsure of the next step. You had never had sex randomly with a stranger. It was always with a partner that you had been dating for a good amount of time. This was new and you were feeling slightly insecure. You shifted nervously, biting your lip as you tried to think of the first move.

Toji sat on the bed, shrugging his suit jacket off and tossing it on the floor. You watched, slightly mesmerized as he rolled up his sleeves. His muscles rolled under the tight shirt, their outlines tantalizing beneath the red fabric. Toji caught your glance, smirking slightly as he shifted his leg, spreading them open as he patted his thigh.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, head tilting as you watched him pat his thigh again. Slowly, you shuffled over, face burning as you sat on his right thigh.

“What do you like?” His question had you pause, eyes searching his face as you pondered. Had any of your previous partners ever asked you that before? You didn’t think so.

Cheeks burning, you ducked your head slightly, eyes locked on your hands which sat limply in your lap. Toji’s chest was warm against your side, his large hand resting against your waist gently. You shivered as his lips brushed against the skin of your neck, the sensation exhilarating. He bit the skin gently, your heart rate picking up at the action.

“Im not sure.” You answered honestly. Gojo hadn’t been the best of partners, despite 6 years together you could easily count the few amount of times he had made you orgasm on your hands. He had been very selfish in the bedroom, often leaving you feeling like a glorified sex doll rather than a partner. Before him had been partners as inexperienced as you, awkward fumbling, not quite figuring things out. You had yet to be with anyone who was experienced. The thought had you blushing deeper, more so from embarrassment at the unspoken revelation.

“Can I take the lead then?” Toji nibbled at your ear, his grip on your waist tightening. You nodded slowly, your heart rate picking up again as a shiver ran down your spine. His hand slid to the zipper at the back of your dress, fingers quickly tugging it down. You shivered as the dress opened, the warmth it had been holding being replaced by cool air.

Toji’s large hand moved to your back, fingers pressing against your spine as he drew his hand downwards. You sat, eyes wide and lips slightly parted as you waited for his next move. His eyes weren’t on you, not quite. Toji was focused on your skin, his lips moving so softly against your shoulder that it tickled.

The man had come off earlier as impatient and slightly crass. But now he was moving achingly slow. He smirked at his expression and you felt your face flush deeper. Toji was doing this on purpose, he was teasing you.

“No bra?” His thick fingers tugged at the back of the dress, the fabric quickly sliding down to your waist. You shivered, goosebumps cropping up as the cool air hit your chest. Nipples standing on end, you let out a small sigh as you shook your head. “Built into the dress.”

Toji hummed at this, his eyes locked onto your breasts. If you didn’t know any better you would think this was his first time seeing a pair. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated. A puff of air left his lips and you laughed, deciding to tease him back.

“So you’re a boob man huh?” Your words set forth a flurry of motion. Toji’s movements were so fast and fluid you barely had time to register the fact that he had indeed moved until you were on your back on the bed. Your mouth dropped open, heart racing as you stared up at the man crouch on top of you.

“I am an everything man.” Toji practically purred, his voice so low you almost didn’t hear it. Part of you wanted to laugh at the words, but he spoke with such conviction all you could do was nod, lips parting as you stared up at him. You shivered as he shifted, tugging your dress from your hips and tossing it aside. Both of you paused, you from embarrassment, Toji looking near feral. With how tight the dress had been, wearing underwear really wasn’t an option. You pressed your thighs together, your face burning as you looked away, not wanting to look at Toji.

The older man laughed, licking his lips as he straightened. His fingers deftly undid the buttons on his shirt, the red fabric flying to the far corner of your bedroom. The white undershirt quickly followed, leaving his chest exposed. You swallowed at the sight.

Beefcake indeed. Toji was built, his broad shoulders and chest complimented by his rather slender looking waist. Scars littered his skin, the small marks scattered about wildly. His muscles rippled beneath his skin, making you wonder just how he worked out to be that in shape.

‘Triangle Shaped’ Popped into your mind and you giggled. Toji squinted at the noise, his belt half undone. You bit your bottom lip, watching as the belt slowly slid from the pant loops. It too was tossed, the sharp noise of his zipper following the sound of the belt hitting your dresser. Bright green boxers made your eyebrow lift slightly and you stifled another giggle. Not at all what you had expected.

Leaving just his boxers on, the nice suit pants quickly lay draped across the floor. Toji joined them, to his knees at the edge of your bed. You lifted yourself on your elbows to see him better, waiting for his next move.

“OH!” You gasped as he grabbed both of your ankles, tugging you to the very edge of the bed. His head was positioned right above your cunt, warm breath fanning across your skin. You shivered in excitement, eyes wide as you watched him.

Toji spread your legs, warm breath tickling the sensitive wet flesh of your pussy. You shivered again in his grip, the warm puffs of air feeling teasing as they slid over your skin. His grip shifted from your ankles, sliding tantalizingly slow down your calves, then thighs. He finally rested his thick fingers on your waist, pinning your legs in place on either side of his head.

“You like teasing?” Your question was slightly shaky, your heart beat making your lungs feel breathless and head hazy. Toji smirked, nodding as he licked his lips. His dark hair obscured his eyes slightly, the green hue of his pupils nearly hidden beneath the dark curtain. It was like being stared at by a hungry predator. You wanted to urge him to start, to stop staring so intensely, but your words sat trapped in your chest. The anticipation was too thrilling, your body angled towards him as you waited, breathless.

Toji bent his head, lips gently caressing your inner thigh. The touch was barely there, each one butterfly light as he trailed down to the apex of your thighs. A strand of dark hair tickled against your other thigh, the sensation matching his infuriated soft kisses. You squirmed slightly in his touch, stilling as his hands tightened their hold. Toji paused, looking at you through his lashes.

“Be still darling.” You nodded, suppressing the shiver that ran down your spine. The man smiled at you, his grin sharp and catlike.

“Good girl.” He pressed a kiss against your clit, sending a wave of pleasure deep through your core. You gasped, trying your best not to let your hips buck into his face. Toji chuckled, tongue sliding roughly across your clit. You moaned quietly, clamping a hand over your mouth as he dragged his tongue across your folds. His tongue was burning hot against your pussy, the warmth he radiating seeming to all spill out through his mouth. Your fingers tightened over your mouth, a strangled moan slipping out.

Toji bent forward, his nose rubbing against your clit as one hand slid up your side, tugging your elbow and pulling hand from your mouth. He wanted to hear you, a fact that had your face bright red.

His hand slid back down your side, rough fingertips teasing as he slid the hand up your thigh then down. You whined low as you felt a finger slide against your folds, the finger resting at your entrance. His lips were on your clit again, sucking harshly as the finger gently circled your entrance. You wiggled your hips slightly, breath coming in pants as he continued with the slow torturous pleasure. Toji chuckled again, the vibrations making you whine.

He pulled away from your clit with a pop, pressing his tongue flat against your folds as he slipped a finger inside you. The thick digit was met with slight resistance, your walls tightening around the finger slightly.

You shivered as Toji began pumping his finger achingly slow, the pleasure a dull burning in your stomach. He ran his tongue up your pussy, laving at your clit before turning suddenly and biting the inside of your thigh. You yelped in surprise, hips bucking up in response.

The action shoved his finger deeper, your walls fluttering slightly as his finger scraped against the sensitive flesh.

Toji slipped in a second finger, the action stretching you. He chuckled at your red face and the short panting breaths you let you. The man was reveling in teasing you. He spread his fingers wide, the ache of feeling overly stretched starting up. You let out a whine, hips moving as he began rhythmically pumping his fingers. His rough skin felt heavenly, the friction building the tight heat coiling in your abdomen. Toji hadn’t broken his intense gaze, his eyes drinking in your gentle writhing as he pushed his thick fingers in deeper with each stroke. It was erotic in an odd way, you liked how he looked at you.

Toji’s teeth scraped over your clit, the action sending you over the edge. You gasped as you came, your walls spasming around his still pumping fingers.

Toji pulled back, letting your legs dangle limply over the edge of the bed. He smirked as he licked his fingers clean, eyes crinkling with amusement as he took in your relaxed form.

“Feeling better?” Toji teased, nudging your leg with his knee. You nodded, it had been a while since you had orgasmed. Toji smirked, turning and grabbing his slacks from the ground. You sat up, confused as he started tugging his pants on.

“You’re leaving?” You tilted your head as you asked, brow furrowing. Toji paused, one eyebrow raising as he looked at you.

“I said I’d eat you out and I did.”

You nodded slowly, gesturing with one hand to his very tented boxers. “What about you?”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, glancing down briefly before back up at you. “I didn’t want to impose. I'm not a horny teen, I’m not pushy with women I barely know.”

You blushed at his words, they rang true. He was right, you were just strangers. Still, you felt the heat in your stomach coiling again, not quite wanting the night to end. “Well, I wouldn’t mind.” You bit your lip as you spoke, “If you were a little pushy.”

He stood for a moment, hands on the waist of his slacks as he decided. To your delight, the pants were dropped, Toji kicking them off with a grin.

“I can blow you?” You suggested, feeling slightly embarrassed to utter the words. Toji shook his head. “Gagging is a turn off.”

You opened your mouth to state you wouldn’t gag, and found yourself speechless as he dropped his boxers. Maybe you would gag, the man was thick, much thicker than you thought possible. What he lacked in length he made up for in girth. You shivered as he gave himself a quick pump, his thumb rubbing against the beads of precum that sat on the head.

“Ready?” Your nod of affirmation was jerky, your eyes locked on his cock. The man slid onto the bed and you wiggled backwards to give him room. He nestled between your legs, warm skin pressing against you.

Toji grasped both of your thighs, pulling your hips up to meet his. You gasped as he entered you, eyes wide as you struggled to accept his length. Toji was surprisingly gentle, his hips still as he waited for your body to relax. You did so slowly, moaning as he pushed further in, the stretching of your overstimulated walls making you nearly cum again. Twisting your hands in the comforter beneath you to ground yourself, you mewled as he stretched your walls further.

“Almost there.” He grunted, teeth clenched in a partial snarl as he slid in another inch. His broad chest was flushed, large arms shaking slightly as he held still again. The sight was divine, Toji looked like he was holding himself back just barely. You shifted, canting your hips into his and allowing for the last bit of him to slide in. The man grunted in surprise, hands tightening their hold on your thighs.

The grip was intense and you knew you would have bruises the next day. You found yourself shivering at the thought, walls fluttering around his cock as you drank in the sensation. Never before had you had a partner like him in your bed. It was exhilarating.

Toji drew back slightly, his thick cock rubbing against your walls as he pulled nearly all the way back. There was a small pause and then he was slamming back into you, the force mind numbing.

You let out a long gasp, head lolling back as the tip of his cock hit your cervix. The mix of pain and pleasure added to the fire in your stomach and you matched his pace as Toji began thrusting into you. Toji spat out a curse, the word strangled. You shuddered as he leaned over, biting your calf. He was like a wild animal, the odd composure from earlier slipping away as he thrust into your wet heat.

You felt your release building again, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to a second release. Walls fluttering around him, you softly let out his name, hips canting to meet his. Toji tilted his head back at his name, eyes narrow slits as he took in your light panting and sweat soaked skin.

He moved, again faster than you had time to comprehend. You cried out as he flipped you, still fully seated within your heat. You found yourself face down in the comforter, cunt aching as he pulled back and began thrusting again. Moaning into the blankets, you scrabbled to ground yourself, feeling his heavy weight pushing you further into the bed. His broad chest pressed against your back, pinning you in place as he continued his almost desperate thrusting.

You felt one of his large hands slid beneath you, roughly grabbing your breast. Toji shifted slightly, putting his weight on one elbow, the other hand pulling your hips closer roughly.

“Where?” The question confused your pleasure-addled mind. You moaned in response, pushing your hips back into him. Your walls fluttered wildly as a smaller orgasm hit you. Toji groaned, head resting against your back as he continued his pace, thrusting through your orgasm. It was too much, tears of over stimulation leaking from the corners of your eyes. Your cunt ached, each thrust scrapping harder and harder against your cervix.

“Where little mink?” His voice was strained, words coming out in a gasp. The fog in your mind cleared slightly and you pressed your hips against him. “Inside.” The word was whispered, barely audible, but Toji heard.

The man’s grip on your hip tightened painfully, his thrusting becoming erratic and sloppy as he chased his release. You moved weakly with him, feeling as though your bones were made of jelly. Toji came suddenly, his teeth latching onto the skin of your back as he thrust his cock deep within your walls. You whined at the sensation, the warm feeling of being utterly filled was erotic.

For a moment the two of you lay, locked together. You quickly caught your breath, head pressing into the comforter as the urge to sleep washed over you.

Toji rolled off of you, his limp cock slipping out. You shifted, rolling on your back to look at him. The man smirked at you, one large hand reaching out to pinch your nipples. You swatted at his hand, a laugh weakly leaving your lips.

“We should do this again.” Toji sat up, reaching to snag his boxers from the floor. You nodded quietly in response. It would be nice, maybe you could become something other than strangers.

“It’s late, so I need to get back.” He was standing now, reaching for the rest of his clothing. You sat up, feeling slightly dizzy as you watched him dress. Sluggishly you tugged on a bathrobe, ignoring the sensation of his cum sliding across your thighs.

Walking Toji to the door, you paused, looking up at the man. He leaned down, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

“If you don’t mind kids, you’re more than welcome to join me tomorrow morning for breakfast.”

You raised an eyebrow at his offer, smiling in response. “I’d love that. Where should we meet?”

Toji smirked, opening the apartment door before turning to you. The look on his face was one of extreme amusement.

“How about the lobby?” You tilted your head, eyes narrowing at his teasing tone. Toji jerked his thumb to the stairwell that sat across the long hallway. “I live on the 5th floor. See you at 8?”

Your mouth fell open and you nodded stupidly as the older man laughed. He leaned in again, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before sauntering down the hall. You watched him leave, rolling your eyes at his perfectly sculpted behind. The night had not really gone as planned. But you were just fine with that.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #smut #jjk smut

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absoloutenonsense · 8 months

Text

Coming October 31st…

When the Trouble Comes by nonsensedarling

Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson | 80k | Explicit

Official fic post is HERE.

The Queens Trafficking case is the biggest one of Louis’ FBI career so far; eleven reported missing girls all disappeared under a similar set of circumstances. Louis has done everything he can to try and solve this case over the last nine months... while also absolutely ruining his marriage. Harry has been co-host of Banter at Breakfast for five years now and finally has the opportunity to create his own radio show with the network. Unfortunately, it comes at a time where Harry's thoughts are consumed with his impending divorce from his (caring, loving, infuriatingly thoughtful) husband of eight years. Harry and Louis have both been willing to lose themselves in their work… but are they willing to lose each other?

Or a story of (almost) exes-to-lovers.

Chapters will post on Tuesdays of each week, starting on October 31st (20 chapters in total).

(If you would like to be notified by email when it starts posting, you can subscribe here.)

Snippet under the cut:

💼🍷

With a copy of the case file in his backpack, Louis sticks his key in the door, unlocks it, and steps inside, trying to be as quiet as he can because he knows at this time of night, Harry will definitely be asleep.

Except when he shuts the door, he sees the living room light bleeding out into the hallway, a shadow moving back and forth. There’s the sound of footsteps – lots of them, very quickly. Louis stares at the light and for a brief moment panics that he’s walked into their apartment to find Harry with someone else.

He hears light murmurs. Louis leans forward, feet frozen but his ears straining, until he recognizes the murmurs as Harry singing. Louis sighs in relief. Harry isn’t with someone else. He’s singing and probably dancing in the living room, maybe with his headphones in, which is why he hasn’t stopped or popped his head out between the doorframe when Louis opened the door.

Louis isn’t going to look in. He’s going to walk right past the doorway and head straight to the guest bedroom and review the file again, and then go to sleep so he can meet Perrie early in the morning.

He isn’t going to look in.

He really doesn’t mean to look in. A motion pulls his attention in his peripheral vision and his head turns without him realizing it, then his whole body stops moving.

Harry is dancing, wireless earbuds in and a glass of deep red wine in his right hand. There’s a pink tint to his cheeks, which tells Louis that the one in his hand is at least his third. He’s wearing just his boxer briefs and one of Louis’ hoodies.

Well, it was technically Harry’s hoodie originally. It’s heather grey, worn in to just the perfect amount of softness with a faded Greenbay Packers logo on the front. The first time Louis stayed over at Harry’s, he got cold just before they were going to bed. Harry took the sweatshirt from where it was draped over the top of the closet door and passed it to him.

When Louis pulled it on… he can’t really explain it, but there, in Harry’s dreadfully small room in his four-roommate apartment, wearing a hoodie that smelled exactly like him (like he’d been wearing it all day, soaked in the scent of his shampoo and body lotion and fabric softener)... Louis had the same feeling he got when he first visited New York when he was a kid. Like he was home. Harry had agreed. “Looks better on you then it ever has on me,” he’d said with a smirk. And from then on, it was Louis’ hoodie. Harry never tried to take it back.

So the fact that his husband is wearing it now makes Louis feel all sorts of things. Before he has even a second to figure out what any one of them is, Harry opens his eyes.

“Shit fucking Christ,” he exclaims, opening his hand automatically. It’s like Louis watches in slow motion as the glass falls and breaks, shattering in so many different directions. He pulls his earbuds out quickly. “Hell, Louis, you scared the shit out of me!” he scolds.

Harry rises up onto his tiptoes, and Louis’ hand immediately goes out in front of him in a stop gesture.

“Don’t, don’t move,” Louis says. “Stay there.”

He turns quickly towards the kitchen, throwing his backpack somewhere off to the side as he rushes to grab the dustpan and broom, as well as the roll of paper towels.

“I’m coming, stay still,” Louis shouts as he starts jogging back.

He keeps his eyes on the ground as he puts one paper towel down to soak up the wine there, then balls it up so he can sweep away the shards. He does the same as he works his way towards Harry’s feet.

There’s red wine all over his toes, that’s got to be uncomfortable. Louis grabs one of the paper towels and goes to dab his feet to wipe it off.

“Stop,” Harry says. He sounds angry.

Louis glances up and sees that he looks angry. He holds his hands up in a surrendering motion, not wanting to upset him anymore.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Well don’t,” Harry spits out.

He stands up slowly. Louis doesn’t know if he’s ever seen Harry this angry with him. Even the time Louis accidentally threw out his favorite pair of boots it wasn’t like this. Louis isn’t prepared for this bitterness coming from his husband, and he didn’t think divorce brought on something like that when it wasn’t there before, at least not before they’d even filed the paperwork.

#(almost) exes-to-lovers #*screams*#i've never posted a fic as a WIP so we'll see how that goes!#what a time #it is actually insane that this is only 80k- i know i complained at literally every step about it but omg writing PLOT is so MUCH #the way it's been 2 years since this AU started i'm so excited to get it OUT of my documents #updated #first posting date will be October 31st!#means the fic should be fully posted (hopefully including epilogue) by mid-March #we’ll see if I get trigger happy and post any chapters early/sooner than anticipated but no promises!!!!

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eleanor-bradstreet · 1 year

Text

Locked Out (Anthony Bridgerton x Reader)

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!Reader Modern AU Rated: 18+, explicit sexual content, language, mentions of blood Word count: 4.2k

Summary: When you find yourselves locked out of your house in the middle of the night, Anthony has some ideas for how you can kill time.

Author's Note: Inspired by true events that involved all the frustration but none of the fun 😜 This was just an idea that rooted itself. A silly little fic outside my usual style. Thanks to @faye-tale for chatting with me while I waited for a locksmith. 😊 And thanks to @colettebronte who always has the right JB pic for the job. 💜

You knew this would happen. You had never trusted the smart lock ever since Anthony had installed it. Either some criminal masterminds would hack the whole network of them, or the battery would die and leave you precisely where you were now, standing on the stoop in the chilly air as midnight approached, the moon and your phone as your only light sources. Again you wondered what was so bad about traditional locks as your phone flashed the error message. But Anthony had to get his way, as usual. One news story about a burglar three towns away and the next day he had bought every ‘smart’ home security device on the market.

Well now the stupid lock didn’t work. The first time you had pressed the button you assumed you had tapped something wrong, given how distracted you were. Anthony was crowding against you, one hand slithering over your backside while the other moved to wrap lightly around your throat. He was breathing heavy in your ear, licking your neck with his untamable tongue, a move that always made your eyes cross a bit. But now you had tried three times to unlock the door and it clearly wasn’t working.

“Anthony…”

He just rumbled in response, biting your lobe.

“Anthony!” You nudged him back with your hips, trying to snap him out of it. “The damn lock is broken.”

“What?” Of course he then had to inspect it himself for a full five minutes, trying every trick on his phone that you had, to no avail.

You stood with your arms crossed. “Where’s the spare key?”

Even in the dim light you could see his jaw set with aggravation. “Inside.”

You scoffed, “You didn’t hide it outside like you said you would?”

“I don’t want to leave a key to our property lying around for anyone to find. This thing was supposed to be top-of-the-line.” He growled.

You couldn’t help your eyes from rolling. “Anthony, that’s why you hide it…”

“Let me try the back.” He jogged off the steps and around the house through your garden gate. You both knew full well that he had rigged your back door with the same space age lock as the front and wasn’t likely to have any success. All you wanted was to get inside, to get warm and have a glass of wine. You looked up at the glare of the full moon. That must be to blame for your misfortune.

You weren’t going to wait forever and searched the number for a 24-hour locksmith. You were just about to dial when the sound of shattering glass echoed over your lawn followed by a loud curse. Oh good lord…

Before you could even detect which side of the house it came from, Anthony stepped out of the shadows, holding a forearm aloft.

“Anthony Bridgerton, what the hell did you do?” You hissed as loud as you dared, mindful of disturbing your neighbors.

But you knew exactly what he had done when he drew closer and you could see the bloody pulp that now constituted his knuckles. More alarming was the long, jagged tear in the sleeve of his shirt through which you could see the matching slice on his skin, blood already seeping out to darken the fabric.

“Broke the side window,” he grumbled.

“And how did that work out for you, genius?”

His eyes flashed. “The damn latch is too high. I couldn’t reach it inside.”

Excellent. Now you would need to replace your window as well as hire a locksmith. Your simple date night was turning into quite the misadventure. The cold was starting to seep in. Not expecting to spend time outside, you wore only a dress and no coat. You were so tired and irked you were bordering on a tantrum. But your husband was bleeding, quite a lot, and you couldn’t bring yourself to ream him out while he was injured.

“Jesus,” You huffed, taking his good arm and pulling him over to your car in the drive. Fortunately this piece of your property had a keyfob, making it your only form of shelter at the moment. “Sit down,” you ordered, opening the driver’s side door and pushing him into the seat. You crouched next to him and turned his wrist to inspect the damage. It was ugly, the whole sleeve from the elbow down stained red already.

Before you even suggested it, he tugged the cuff of his other sleeve with his teeth, slipping his whole shirt up and over his head until it hung only on his bloodied limb.

“Haven’t you ever watched movies?” You chastised as you began to wind the fabric around the gash. A gorgeous knit shirt ruined forever. “You wrap your arm with your shirt before you punch through glass.”

“Well I’m sorry for trying to solve our problem.” He snipped. You responded by pulling a tight knot, causing him to hiss.

But your frustrated energy threatened to redirect into something else entirely as you surveyed him. Even after all this time together, you went a bit speechless whenever you saw him shirtless. It really was obscene for someone to be so attractive. Broad-shouldered and muscular, with the most perfect patch of soft hair across his chest. Running your hands over him had reached the level of compulsion, beyond mere desire. Seeing as his torso was streaked with blood from his haphazardly bandaged arm, you gave in under the pretense of tending to him. You drifted your fingers up his carved abdomen and onto his chest where his movements slowed under your palm, his breaths deepening.

“I don’t have anything to clean you up with.” You were more agitated than apologetic. How fast were you going to devolve into naked, bloodied neanderthals all because you didn’t have a house key?

“It’s fine.” He laid his good hand over yours, holding it in place. You could feel the strong thrum of his heart. He knew what he was doing. Trying to dissipate your anger by turning himself into a distraction. But you wouldn’t let him. Someone had to remedy this situation.

You quirked a brow. “Should I call the paramedics or the locksmith?”

His pursed-lips look of annoyance was one you saw often and always relished. It was usually the only way he admitted you were right in a spat. Nudging him a few inches, you perched next to him on the seat.

“How long will they take?” he asked when you hung up.

“Half an hour.”

“What are we supposed to do until then?” You knew that silky edge to his voice and turned to look at him. His eyes, always dark, glinted most dangerously at night. Darkness suited him much more than daylight and even though you knew your husband was putty in your hands, one flash of those eyes made you feel like prey.

You shivered, due to him as much as the wind. “Whatever we do, I’m staying in here. It’s too cold.” You wouldn’t give in that easily. You stood and moved to walk to the passenger side but an arm curled around your waist and tugged you back onto his lap, then the door was pulled shut beside you.

“Imagine how cold I am without a shirt on.” His low voice reverberated through the enclosed space and soft lips landed on your shoulder. His arm was still banded around you, holding you tight. The devil.

You twisted to face him again, already knowing you would lose this battle. He smirked, just a glimpse of teeth in the blue glow of the fading dash lights lending fangs to your predator. Wasn’t he the wounded one? How did he gain the upper hand so quickly? You rested your hands on his chest again and knew he was lying. He was warmer than you and heating up by the second, his breath gusting over your forearms as you stared each other down. Each time you touched one another in places otherwise typically clothed, it brought out your animalistic tendencies. But seeing him like this, cast in shadow and roughed up, was causing something especially carnal to simmer inside you.

“We can turn the car on for heat.” You argued, never wanting to grant him the last word.

But then he pressed himself against you, hands spreading wide to grasp your bottom as he nuzzled his jaw against your cheek. He knew all of your buttons. One pass of his short beard across your skin and it was over.

“Mmmm…” he hummed in your ear, the baritone he reserved to devastate you. “Bad for the environment. We can keep each other warm.”

Then his tongue resumed its journey up your neck, leaving you gasping until he traced it into your waiting mouth.

Damn him. You hated and loved how easily he made you go to pieces. If you were being honest, the feelings worked in tandem. It was often when you were the most aggravated with him that you reached the highest peaks in your lovemaking. As your tongues swirled around each other, you knew this would be one of those times. But you’d have to be quick unless you wanted to put on a show for the locksmith. This was reckless, juvenile, but you didn’t care.

“I suppose you’re right.” You murmured over his lips then pushed him roughly back against the seat. His eyes lit with excitement as you maneuvered to straddle him, hiking your skirt up your thighs, kicking off your heels and underwear as you went. His splayed hands ran up to your back and crushed you to him for another hungry kiss. You moaned into one another, overcome with the rush of it all, with the risk you may be seen. As you held his jaw possessively, you wormed a hand down to the seam of his trousers.

“Do you have enough blood left to power this thing?” You smirked, nipping at his lower lip.

“See for yourself,” came the husky reply. Pressing down, you felt the bulge and rocked your palm against it. His responding noise caused a familiar jolt of desire to shoot through your every cell. You knew you were already soaking, aching and ready for him. In a flurry, the two of you fought off his belt and buttons and shoved his clothes down his thighs until his cock sprang free, rigid and hot in your hand. Positioning yourself, you swiped the head across your entrance, gathering the slick then swirling it around your throbbing clit. Anthony groaned, biting his lip and gripping you tight by the hips as you lined up and sank down onto him, your cry seeming all the louder in the small, insulated cab.

There was a reason you had given him the private nickname ‘Logsplitter’. Getting far too candid over too many drinks one night, you had told him how fantastically split open he made you feel. Had described that meniscus seal between pain and pleasure and how his body drove yours to it perfectly and kept you dancing upon it until it fractured and plunged you into liquid bliss. The next day you had been mortified but he eased your anxieties by making it the most enduring joke in your relationship. The bastard had even woven it into his wedding speech, announcing that he would still find joy in life’s mundane tasks with you, whether it be laundry, dishes, or log splitting. Public mentions of it sent heat rushing to your cheeks, but in practice behind closed doors it sent heat rocketing under every inch of your skin. He was so stiff and formidable, stretching you so splendidly. You began to move so that you could savor every inch.

Planting your hands on his shoulders for leverage you began to ride him at a steady clip, reminding yourself that you couldn’t dally. His fingers pressed deeper into your hips as his breath turned staccato with whispered curses. You gave a passing thought to the fact that his injured arm was probably streaking blood across your dress, but thankfully it was black and therefore might be saved.

As much as you were enjoying yourself, this was still a ridiculous situation. Bleeding and rutting in the driver’s seat of your car like you were criminal lovers on the lam and not just idiots who hadn’t kept a spare key to the house. And you were on a timeline. Fueled by a potent blend of frustration and arousal you began to move faster, pistoning on your knees as the leather squeaked. There wasn’t much extra space on the seat for your legs and your increased pace made you slip, pitching forward as one shin fell off the side.

Anthony caught you, hands moving up to your ribs as he chuckled. “Woah. Do I need to strap you in, baby girl?”

You could have slapped him. He only used that name for you when he really wanted to get you riled. Clearly he was enjoying your little tryst, finding the fun in this mess that he caused. You’d like to see him try and fuck you in the front seat. Glaring, you stepped on the recline controls and he stuttered in surprise as he sank backward until he was supine beneath you. Steadying yourself again you doubled your efforts, riding him hard as you held him pinned at the chest.

“You’re enjoying this too fucking much.” You ground out.

“What?” He played the innocent.

“We could be inside,” You panted, every word bouncing with your movements. “In bed. Uninjured. If you had just hidden the key…” Your breath caught as you tilted your hips and felt him strike against the deepest part of you, a twinge that increased your ache. “...and not changed the stupid locks.”

“So this is my fault?” His voice was all seduction, no remorse to be found. His eyes, what little you could see of them, gazed up at you as a hand moved to knead your breast.

“Yes.” You moaned, starting to climb the ladder as his fingers and his cock simultaneously found all the right spots to make you mindless.

“And you’re mad at me?”

“So fucking mad.” You gasped, leaning forward into his palm and angling yourself just so, feeling the ridge of him deep inside start to massage your center of sensation.

He craned his neck to ghost his lips over yours and whispered, “How can I apologize?”

Then his hand moved below your skirt and his fingertips found your clit. Pierced with sensation, you screamed some garbled syllables of his name.

He chuckled, warm and dark. “What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

Oh, he was awful. Driving you to delirium even when you were the one on top. You had found your rhythm, rolling your hips to sink him perfectly into place over and over. Coupled with the press of his circling fingers, you were shooting up the ladder, your blood beginning to hum with anticipation. Maybe you could pull this off in time after all.

“Fuck you…” you hissed.

“You certainly are.”

“Anthony, shut up!” You clamped a hand over his mouth, bringing the other to claw into his shoulder. You had assumed Anthony Bridgerton, man of refined tastes, would have found this all as debased as you did, but he was evidently having the time of his life. Maybe the laugh riot was precisely because he knew you were so flustered, which just made you angrier. But the anger was consigned to your mind only, as your body delighted in him. Warm and firm beneath your palms, he started to move with you, thrusting ever so slightly while his mangled hand pulled you down at the hip, slamming your bodies together as tight as he could on your every descent. His fingers swirled faster, just where you needed them, and soon enough you reached the top rungs, everything surging within.

Anthony mumbled something against your fingers, his breath hot and short, matching yours as you hovered over him. You released him, your mind too clouded with pleasure to fight him anymore. Your thighs began to quake while the rest of you started to tense.

“It feels like you’re about to forgive me.” He purred, and all you could do was whine, squeezing your eyes shut as your hips bucked against him desperately. “Come on then,” he coaxed. “I think I’ve earned it.”

One more thrust and circle of his fingers and you peaked, crying out as your nails sank into the flesh of his shoulder and your other hand scrabbled for purchase in his thick hair. Release radiated out from the epicenter of his touch, spasms clenching around his cock which now felt impossibly huge, fanning out through every muscle. You writhed, circling your pelvis against his as you rode it out and moaned.

“Oh, fuck yes,” he growled from the darkness. “That’s my girl.”

Gasping, you collapsed on top of him, basking in the warmth of his bare skin and the caresses of his hands across your back as aftershocks curled your spine. As you floated, you trailed your fingers into his chest hair. You contemplated extending your forgiveness verbally too, but when you propped up to look at him you saw a flash of headlights through the back window. A truck was turning down your street.

You cursed under your breath and glanced a kiss across Anthony’s lips before pulling yourself off of him and opening the door, stumbling out into the driveway, your mind still swimming. You tugged your skirt down and tried to smooth your hair as Anthony scrambled to hitch his clothes back over his stark erection.

“Stay here,” you cautioned and closed the door.

The truck was indeed the locksmith, a very beatific fellow named Lumley. He didn’t cast any judgment as you explained your situation. He professed to having seen it all and you believed him. But you might have been added to his list of unusual encounters after he deftly popped the door lock and let you in to turn on your lights. That’s when his eyes widened and he asked if you were alright. You looked down and realized he was gesturing to the blood streaks on your exposed arms. The way he fixated on your chin, you suspected you had a streak there too.

You laughed to calm him, explaining that your husband had cut his hand (you elected not to tell him how) and that you were both perfectly fine and would clean up now that you could get inside. A little shaken, he politely wrapped up your transaction and drove away. You were too relieved to be embarrassed and went to collect Anthony from the car.

“Come on, let’s get you inside.” You swung the door open to find him still reclined. His trousers were back on thankfully, but he was slumped, eyes closed, cradling his raggedly wrapped arm. “Anthony?” You put a hand on his shoulder. “You alright?”

He blinked his eyes open and looked at you blearily. “Feeling a bit woozy.” He mumbled.

Fantastic. Not only had he lost blood, he had sent whatever remained shooting down to his cock and now there was none left in his brain. You didn’t think you were strong enough to carry him indoors if he collapsed, but you wouldn’t leave him in the damned car any longer. Tugging him by his good arm to slowly stand, you then draped it over your shoulders and steered him inside. He could walk just fine even if his head was drooping a bit.

You kicked the door closed behind you and walked to the sofa, easing him onto it.

“Aright, sit down. I’m going to get the first aid kit.”

You turned but were immediately halted by a hand around your wrist.

“There’s only one thing that’s going to make me feel better.”

The next you knew, you were on your back on the sofa, Anthony pressing you down as his lips consumed yours. He vocalized his want down your throat as his beard rasped against you. What happened to woozy? Maybe being horizontal was the only way he could function at the moment. He rocked his hips between yours, his unsatisfied stiffness insistently seeking entry. Within seconds you were ignited again, helpless against the weight of him, the taste of him, the smell of him.

“Anthony, if you stain the couch too, I swear…” You mumbled as he sucked at your neck. Tallying the cleanup that remained between the shattered window and your ruined clothes, you would not sacrifice your plush upholstery too. Reaching behind your head, you dragged the throw blanket from the arm of the sofa and quickly bunched it under his blood soaked shirt bandage. He didn’t seem to have heard you, or perhaps he just didn’t care, as he balanced on that elbow and used his other hand to tear open his trouser buttons. You lifted your skirt and helped him, as eager for this as he was.

You groaned in stereo as he sank into you once again, the sensation more overwhelming now that he was on top of you. His tongue dove into your mouth as well, the most delicious parts of him penetrating you as deeply as they could simultaneously. Vanilla as this position may have been in comparison, you loved it. Being completely underneath him, crushed, consumed and controlled by him. You had taken your pleasure and now you wanted to be a ragdoll in his arms. You didn’t know if your desires were romantic or perverse, but you didn’t care. The feeling of being filled and surrounded by the man you loved made you wildly aroused.

With no pretense, Anthony went to work pummeling you, chasing his release as urgently and selfishly as you had chased yours. You opened your legs wide, locking your ankles around his back and letting him plough even deeper. You still found this entire ordeal comical, but the man deserved some relief. In the span of an hour he had been chastised, injured, exposed and now blue-balled. This was his only reprieve until you had to undertake the ghastly business of dealing with his wound. And he was bringing pleasure to more than just himself. Predictably, his every thrust teased your clit, his sizable cock pulling all of you so tight that every feeling was heightened. While he panted harsh in your ear, you ran your nails down his rippled back and pert bum, leveraging with your wrapped legs to push up into him, the two of you grinding into one another as you whispered encouragements.

He was splitting you, sending you back to that place where all of your focus zoned in on the feeling of him inside, the relentless pounding of his body into yours that promised to quell every need of your flesh. Your whispered filth turned into small cries and then into silence as he drove harder and harder, his movements frenzied as he started to growl, pushing for the finish. All you could do was hold on as your whole body shifted beneath him, wearing tracks into the upholstery under your shoulders. You held your breath as your mouth fell open, unfailingly stunned at how he could propel you to the edge so easily. He shifted to look down at you. His hair was growing damp with sweat, a chestnut curl falling beautifully across his forehead. His dark eyes locked into yours, molten. You could read it in each other’s faces - you would come undone together.

Sparing Anthony the balancing act, you brought your hand between your legs and in seconds were breaking, tossing your head back as you succumbed. While the rest of you trembled, you clung to him with your limbs, luxuriating in all the hallmarks of his orgasm, triggered by your own. The way his back arched under your hands as his hips stuttered between your thighs. You loved how his whole body went rigid just before you felt the pulsing inside. He made the most beautiful gasping sound, so contrasted with his animalistic growls leading up to it, his mouth hanging open against your cheek, hot breath stirring your hair.

Absorbing each other’s tremors, he melted into you, resting his head in the crook of your neck and going full dead weight. You tightened your hold around him before he rolled onto the floor. You wound a hand into his hair, tracing patterns across his scalp as you both caught your breath. You looked over at his maimed arm and grimaced. It was a bloody mess. How he had been in the mood for not one, but two romps without a single complaint about an open laceration was a level of stubbornness and libido possessed only by Anthony Bridgerton. Now playtime was over. You had to be adults and handle this.

You kissed the top of his head. “Anthony.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t even grunt in acknowledgement.

You felt a stab of alarm and shook him lightly. “Anthony?”

Then he groaned, nuzzling closer into you. “I think you’re right,” he slurred against your neck. “I need stitches.”

You rolled your eyes but rubbed his back reassuringly. It appeared the adventures of the evening would continue. You just hoped he could still stumble back to the car.

“Okay. I’ll get you another shirt and then drive you to the hospital. And we are taking the spare key with us.”

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton smut #female reader #smut #whump #modern au #bridgerton smut

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aziraphales-library · 5 months

Note

Hi!!!!! I just got into good omens and this hyperfixation is going ABSOLUTELY BONKERS. Ive been reading so many fics from yall thank u ❤️❤️ i was wondering if u could req some lesbian/wlw aziraphale ? :P

Hello! You can check out our #ineffable wives tag for fics already recommended. Here are some more to add...

wanna witness your eyes looking by izzyhandsgf (E)

"How could someone so unbearably holy commit such sins in the most beautiful way?" ----------------------------- Or, Aziraphale and Crowley meet in the 1930s, fem-presenting, and both are slightly overcome by their feelings for one another...

I stretch out the time (and now I know why) by Nix_Nihili (T)

I should pull back, Crowley thought. She should pull back because she was the one with the fork in her mouth that Aziraphale was holding. Aziraphale wouldn’t pull back because that would be rude so Crowley had to pull back. Pull back. Crowley swallowed the cake down and pushed herself away because that was what she did. Push and pull. Six thousand years of pushing and pulling. God, did it ever end? - Crowley finds Aziraphale on a fateful night for the first time since 1941. They haven't seen each other since but something has changed in the past two decades. or Something definitely happened between 1941 and 1967 to warrant the "You go too fast for me, Crowley" comment.

“I thought that I was getting better.” | Setbacks by die_traumerei (T)

Aziraphale is already having a rough time of it, when her new neighbour Crowley's cats trip her up and the inevitable happens. She and Crowley becomes friends, though, and more than friends -- and a good thing too, as Aziraphale faces one setback after another.

Herefordshire Pomona by Eigon (T)

I was reading Bleating Hearts by HKBlack (which is excellent, btw) and also thinking about the advice to "write what you know", so I started daydreaming about how the goat farmer meets literature professor scenario would transfer to Herefordshire. Aziraphale was easy - a bookseller in Hay-on-Wye, the Town of Books. I've put her shop where Green Ink Books is now, which used to be a multi-level shop, with a flat above. Crowley - well, that became obvious pretty quickly, too - instead of goats, apples. Herefordshire has a lot of old orchards, and I used to know a lady from the Marcher Apple Network, which identifies old apple varieties, and works to preserve them. And I wanted it to be Ineffable Wives, because I had so much fun writing the Old West story Secret Friendship (which is a boring name, but I couldn't think up a better one).

strange workings of fate by skyflyerr (E)

Aziraphale sat down gently and let her feet that didn’t quite touch the floor dangle from the stool. “Would you spare enough time for one glass with me?” Aziraphale watched her turn and look a little taken aback at the notion of her being here. Maybe this was a bad idea. “With you, darling? I can make the time. I’m a woman of my word, if anything.” *** Crowley is a bartender and Aziraphale is still figuring out the bookshop. Both are utterly lonely and winter is coming quick. Maybe they could keep each other warm.

Dance Me to the End of Love by Black_Bentley (E)

In general, Crowley would very much like to see the ones who hurt her grovelling at her feet, experiencing her pain and fear. But Lucifer’s plan is... well, it far surpasses what she considers ‘getting a revenge’ falling wildly into wreaking complete havoc and destroying innocent lives as collateral damage. Most importantly, that puts her dearest friend in danger. And she is to bring the proverbial cuckoo into the Celestial nest. OR: Aziraphale is a ballet dancer for the British Celestial Ballet Company, which grooms its perfect 'angels' from childhood Crowley used to dance for them too, but after they literally kicked her out, she took on pole-dancing for the Nine Circles of Hell Nightclub Its owner, who used to be the Celestial Ballet's star, is ready to take his revenge on the company's Director (referred to by its 'angels' as Mother) and chooses Crowley to enact it by forcing her to deal a brand new drug among the ballet dancers.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable wives #adult omens #human au #mod d

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stardragongalaxy · 8 months

Text

Storm of Stygia

Pairing: Yunho x gn reader

WC: 1.5k

Trope/AU/genres: Fallen angel au, smut, Angst, fluff, s2l, elemental play, rough play, marking, biting, fingering, edging, corruption, 18+ MDNI

Summary: Yunho is a fallen seeking what's been lost to him, but when the source appears to be used to communicate, he finds himself craving more

Networks: @pirateeznet @cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire

Taglist: @abiaswreck @sanjoongie @kitten4sannie @kwanisms @starlitmark @twisted-tales-of-all @anyamaris @drunk-on-hwa

AN: This is a bit late, but this is for @flurrys-creativity 1004 Angel collab!! Please enjoy!! Story under the cut! Banner made by me!

Do NOT re-upload, repost, steal, or translate my works!! The characters are not the true representation and rather are face claims. Thank you!

Thunder rumbled in the distance before lightning covered the sky, striking down in multiple locations. One area near the woods, on top of an apartment complex, appeared to look like a man with lightning crossing his body into his eyes. Turning, he watched the humans leaving in vehicles except one who was waving, calling out goodnight from a balcony.

The fallen had watched you go inside curiously, hearing the doors close for the night, raising his head to the stormy sky listening to the boom of thunder. Feeling his wings ache for being so close to his power contained inside a jeweled necklace, he growled, feeling the urge to taste what will be his once again.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Finally inside your room beside the dresser top, running your thumb over the large jewel between your fingers, feeling a surge of energy from it. Moving the necklace carefully this time into a wooden box on your night stand onto a silver hook in the middle, shining from the light of the lamp. However, before you could close the wooden and glass door to the jewelry case, a powerful gust opened the balcony doors making you turn quickly. Standing in the doorway, which the lamp only illuminated so much, was a man with six large ebony wings, pulsing with a faint glowing red to the veins and tips of the feathers.

Your eyes widened, standing up slowly, not believing that this being, what you assumed was a fallen angel of sorts with the low cut black tank top with a mesh shirt on top, leather pants, a trench coat, arm guards that end where the fingerless gloves began was in the same vicinity with you. The essence of battle ready and walking sin, leaving you a little more distracted than you'd like to admit.

"Who are you?" Questioning after you felt you stared too long. Watching his line of sight, turning slightly to connect the recent jewelry that was hanging in the box with a glare to you when you turned back when he moved to look at you instead.

" Yunho.." Moving a step closer raising his head "Naughty human, Taking what's mine and hanging it with the rest of your possessions after playing with magick. Did you really think nothing would happen?" Yunho questioned intently, answering your question with a teasing tone, tilting his head with a smirk and lightning traveling within his eyes.

You swallowed not realizing that the necklace you just hung up was connected with Yunho. "I didn't think anything of it" You whispered innocently, new to everything your friends were teaching you.

Yunho sensing your innocence moved closer to you, cupping your chin tilting your head up to look into his eyes. "You followed them blindly? The same mistakes humans make that could easily end your life"

"I…" You started only to have your voice caught in your throat. Yunho watched your eyes quiver, giving the indication of being hesitant and fearful. He clicked his tongue letting his hand drop from your chin looking you over once, stepping back afterwards.

You felt vulnerable under his intense gaze like prey watching a predator before the chase. Yunho stepped closer, wrapping his hand around your arm firmly to lead you to the chair having you sit down.

"I will say this once so listen closely. Give up the necklace and if you consent, I will teach and give you a taste of what could be. What you decide afterwards will set course. Deal?"

"What if I refuse?"

"You won't last long then" Yunho promised, which caused you to shiver with the threatening undertone when he curled his fingers. Taking a deep breath while deciding, You looked at him.

"What does this all entail?"

Yunho smirked, moving his hand, tilting your head with two fingers.

"I'll give you pleasure, teach you myself on the path you take on your own, and protect you. Do you consent?"

After a moment of silence, you made your decision. Biting your lip, you nodded and gave consent to the being in front of you.

Yunho felt relief at the consent. "Stay. It won't take but a moment"

You nodded, watching him head over and gently grab the necklace from the box, putting it on. Your eyes widened watching as Yunho's head fell back and wings spread out within the room as a large boom of thunder sounded making you cover your ears making you whimper. Still keeping your eyes on him, you watched his transformation. It didn't take long as he promised with a few things that truly made magnificent.

Yunho turned half way, locking his now vibrant purple eyes with yours. You looked him over, seeing black claws and his ebony wings bleed down into a vibrant fiery red with no glow in sight. You didn't even realize he moved until he was back in front of you.

One foot on the edge of the chair that you occupied, Yunho leaned forward with one hand gripping your chin to look up at him gently, caressing your cheek as you felt the static of his electrifying touch. Smirking at your expressions, he was mere inches from your face, his eyes lit ablaze at the night ahead.

Yunho leaned in close, centimeters from your face "First lesson" he whispered, taking your lips and meshing them with his to start off testing the waters.

Responding you moved closer, returning the kiss wrapping your arms around his neck. He nipped, scratching your bottom lip enough to make them bead up blood from his fangs, but not enough to truly hurt you. Hearing your pained whine turn into a pleasured moan. His hands roaming your body taking in the beautiful shape, memorizing all of you. Yunho broke the kiss finally letting you both breath, pulling back to look at you.

"What are your thoughts?"

"I want more, Yun please.."

He chuckled not having to be told twice, using both hands picking you up from the chair, having you wrap your legs around him carrying you tight to the bed. Moving your legs he let you down onto the bed. His knee dropping down between your legs close to your clothed core.

"Are you sure you want to continue?"

He watched your eyes now with lust and uncertainty awaiting your answer on the decision.

"Please, I want to experience more.." You whispered loud enough for him to hear.

He hummed, raising his hand for the winds to close the balcony doors gently before he continued. "Lay back and relax. I'll go easy"

Yunho leaves for a moment getting a towel then coming back, not making you wait long. You did as instructed letting Yunho take the lead as he moved closer. Letting you pull down the night clothes to expose your core. He moaned at how wet you already were. He carefully pulled you up, putting the towels under you and letting you down which confused you, but you went with it.

He didn't give much warning aside from tapping on the thigh which caused you to spread your legs wider. He worked his first finger to let you get used to the feeling, pushing in and out slowly. Going on he added another finger going a little faster, moving a little at a time to find the spot. Hearing you gasp, he smirked, messing with where he hit, seeing you react. He pulled out when near climax, leaving you whining.

Yunho licked some essence off one finger and let you taste it from the other.

"The Night just started" He stated teasingly. Putting his two fingers in, adding a third this time, beginning again. Only sending you a few times gauging your reactions each time, smirking at how much he was corrupting you, enjoying every second. Yunho leans down by your ear.

"Now to give you one thing I promised" Whispering deeply, his fingers entering, adding four, but moving faster than anticipated adding light jolts of electricity for stimulation knocking the wind out of you. Finally, you arched your back, gasping then crying out Yunho's name, letting the waves of the intense orgasm overtake you, him riding you through it until you calmed down. He tilted his head, bringing his fingers into his mouth, licking off all your essence while you caught your breath. He smiled, seeing the streaks of black veins etched around his insignia on your inner thigh engraved from his own power. Proceeding to get you cleaned up afterwards watching you start falling asleep.

Tossing the towels into the hamper, he helped you into new night clothes and put you into bed. You kept your eyes open long enough for him to put a feather on the nightstand in front of the jewelry box beside your bed and lock your bedroom and balcony doors firmly. Coming back to you, he bent down to face level.

"Call me when you need me from the gift I left you"

"What about the board?" You slurred from being sleepy.

"Don't mess with the board anymore. It brings many bad things" he warned, standing up and moving his clawed hand to the lamp, watching you close your eyes, being the last thing you saw before Yunho turned the lamp off for the night.

#cultofdionysusnet #pirateeznet #ateez smut #jeong yunho smut #18+#ateez yunho smut

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starillusion13 · 10 months

Text

FRIENDS!? Chapter 3

🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳

M.Masterlist Series ML

▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️

Pairing: poly!ateez × f!reader (A Yandere AteezOffice Au)

Genre: Mature, Angst, Yandere, SMUT

Warning: The upcoming events in the story will contain themes like stalking, violence, obsession, manipulation, possessive behaviour and restraining acts. Do not kill me for not warning you. This is an Yandere story so you are well aware of what to expect more. For SMUT I WILL GIVE THE WARNING IN THE BEGINNING.

W.C: 4.3K+

For my beloved: @oreharuuu

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

[Reblogs and Reviews are always appreciated. Thank you you for reading and have a nice day ahead. Please always take care of yourself everyone.]

Hello, Can we be friends please?

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

*under the cue*

The beginning of the day was pretty good unlike now when you are sitting in front of the two grinning men whose eyes are boring onto your sweaty face. Your fingers curled underneath the table and a confused mind still processing the search bars from last night.

‘You can’t access to this website.’

The room is quite at a suitable temperature and the men in suits are perfectly looking handsome without a trace of uneasiness whereas you are in a daze. You gulp and clear your throat to present yourself a bit more professional which you are lacking at the moment and you are well aware of it. You atleast mentally thanked every creature that not all of them are present currently in this office and you are feeling a bit less suffocated. Avoiding their eye contact, you look behind the big glass wall to calm yourself and watch how the wide view of city is clearly visible from there and how refreshing the view might be after a stressful day at work. The bright day is supposed to make you joyful and enthusiastic but here you are panicking for your career in front of these two men. Your thoughts wander about what Beomgyu must be doing right now because before coming to this place, you tried to call him so many times but he didn’t pick up for once. Weird. Well, because he never misses your call and is always there in your hard times, he must be really bad down working hard for the projects of the internships he will be applying next month before joining the father’s business. The opening of a door and abrupt footsteps coming inside the room takes you out of your day dreaming.

“Oh Y/N you are here? I didn’t know you are supposed to be here now.”

You look up to the youngest one of them and somehow you managed to shoot him a smile but no words come out of your mouth as if you still don’t know how to speak any syllable or language.

“Why are you panicking so much?”

You turn back your focus on the men sitting across from you, the one with glasses is busy in his i-pad and keenly doing something which must be very important because the creased forehead and focused eyes are showing his situation clearly. The eldest one beside him gives you a smile to let you know that he wants the answer to his question.

“Is it true that being black-listed means I won’t be able to join any other companies?”

The busy one stopped doing his work and made an eye contact with his friend beside him. The youngest one also watching how his two other friends are silently communicating with their eyes and he is well aware of the topic. He clears his throat and puts the file which he was holding all these times and giving you a tight smile, he makes his way out of the room.

“Jongho, where are you going?”

“I have to give a quick visit to Yunho as we will be having a meeting together later this afternoon and before that we have some important discussion. Why? do you want something hyung?”

“It’s okay just let me know who will be free today because I need someone to escort her later.”

The blonde hair one averts his attention to you again after speaking to his friend.

“Well you see the black-list is the most unwanted thing in this field, every freshers applying for the recruiting companies tries to avoid this circumstances and how unfortunate for you to be facing such thing. I know what you are going through but trust me we are here to help you.”

“Sir Seonghwa. I was really tensed last night when I was not able to access to any of the website for register myself and then I called my friend to know whether he is facing the same problem or not but he is not and I thought I’m in a big trouble. Wooyoung explained me the situation earlier today during our ride to this place and that’s how I came to know that I have been black listed.”

“Yes, it’s true that’s what happened to you as you know Yunho has already informed your university about us recruiting you in our office and how lucky of you to get the chance here and the principal must have added your name to the list of applied applicants and if you try to apply to some other companies and your name is already shortlisted somewhere else, you will be blacklisted.”

“Did you try to apply somewhere else?” Hongjoong asks while still focusing on his ipad.

You hesitantly reply to them with a nod and both of them slightly shake their head. Their disappointed look towards you making you feel like a smallest being in the room. Well comparing to their physique, you are really small. You are letting in all the explanations and get to know how you are left with only one option that is to finally give in the application form. Your heart ache on the thought that how much they are helping you with your condition as you are their bestfriend but here you are trying to run away from them and getting in troubles and disappointing them.

You pull your vanity bag towards yourself and quickly rummages through the wide section and your eyes lit up to find the offer letter. You quickly pull it out and place it in front of them with a wide smile.

“So….Am I still able to apply here?”

“Of course.”

The reply is so quick as if they were waiting for this conversation and you can see how Hongjoong place away the gadget to give his full attention on you. His eyes following how you are having eye bags which must be due to the exhaustion from all these thinking and how you haven’t care about putting any makeup before coming here. He smiles to himself that he can see the natural you as he likes you this way more. You feel eyes on you and then when you catch him checking you out. Being caught, he is not hesitating but showing his smirk to you and leaning back to his chair his eyes still on you. You remember the previous day when you came here and how you felt this man was unreal and you are feeling the exact thing today as well.

“Like what you see?”

Your wide eyes taking in the smirk from two men. Seonghwa is reading your offer letter and form which he gave you last to day fill up and stealing some glances of you and yes you have submitted it today and Hongjoong adjusting his glasses still having that smirk.

“What do you mean?”

“Isn’t the view nice from up here? It’s so refreshing and good.”

Oh! Yeah, the view sure.

“Uh yeah yeah the view. Yes, it’s really nice.”

“It’s better from the top floor and the terrace you know, we can go up there someday.”

“Maybe.”

“So you are joining from today or tomorrow?” Seonghwa interject.

“Tomorrow?”

“That’s good then, so let’s just arrange everything within today so that we can start everything officially from tomorrow.”

Hongjoong and you both nodded on his words. A message pop up in your phone which you were holding all these times but didn’t aware of that and your eyes lit up to see Beomgyu’s message to meet you in the evening when you will be free. You excused yourself to atleast reply him with a quick approval to meet. The men in front of you having a curious and intense gaze on you and following your every small expression shifting while using the phone. They are fighting their inner battle to just rip off the phone from your hand to see what is more important there on the phone than them and even what is making you so excited at the moment but they choose to maintain a professional atmosphere until you have officially joined the company and have shifted to their place.

“About my things which I need to move here. Like I don’t have a lot much except clothes and basic needs. I need time to pack them so I think it will not be possible to do it overnight and I might have them move to this place by the end of the week.”

“sure.”

“No.”

“Hongjoong, she clearly said that she needs time to pack everything so atleast we can give her this freedom….for now.”

Hongjoong hesitantly agree with his friends with an annoyed expression and you don’t know what is the reason behind his change of nature suddenly but you just shrug off the feeling and then continue to hear what the other person is describing about the updates for the day.

“If you are free then let me see if anyone can tour you through the whole building so atleast you get to know the surrounding of your new workplace. Is it okay for you?”

“Of course. I don’t have any classes today and am really excited to look around the most expensive office in this city. Oh! Sorry if I sound a bit too excited.”

“Y/N its nothing wrong trust me. We are glad that you are excited to be here. We are equally excited to finally have you to ourselves.”

“Hm?”

“Seonghwa meant that we are happy that we could personally help you out and we got our bestfriend back.”

You give them your wide and brightest smile and they just grin to your silly smile. The innocent you do not even know how much of filthy thoughts are crossing their minds right now when you are sitting so near to them behind the closed doors where not a single soul can dare to enter unless they have a wish to say goodbye to this world.

“Oh my cupcake is here?”

Well except one who does not even fear devil and without knocking just casually enters the room and the other two men just sigh on his presence. You turn your head to see the excited boy and somehow the similar bright expression as his appeared on you as well. Maybe his presence has that charm to pull everyone out from every gloomy feeling.

“So whats going on here?”

He approaches the table and picks up some files and pages which Jongho has left there. Hongjoong snatch those files and glare at him and in return the other just pouts and looks at you and while the eldest just shake his head. Seonghwa explained the whole situation to him in brief from your doubts from last night and how you have sublitted the form eventually. Wooyoung clap his hands in excitement and turning your chair towards himself, gripping the shoulder tightly, a yell of exciting congratulation comes from his mouth. You are continuously laughing on his antics and a sudden thought pass across your mind. Did you really have fun times like this with them during your middle school but where were they in the last two years of your school? The most irritating part is why cant you remember any of those memories. You cant clearly remember a lot of school memories and which somehow haunt you as if something happened to you during the school life and somehow your memories are being manipulated so that you cant remember those incidents but why? You sigh when the person holding you shake your shoulders and you just give him a small smile. You must be over-thinking a lot. Nothing like that happened. You always try to convince yourself like this since the first day of your university life but is that really true?

“Wooyoung are you free right now?” Hongjoong ask him while arranging the files on a shelf and you really didn’t notice when he walked over there across the room.

“Yeah. I only had that early meeting with that Sparkling Diamond Company and Yunho is really pissed off with their managing director .”

“Why?”

Plopping himself on the chair beside you, putting a leg over the other in a sassy pose and push back his locks, “That shithead was degrading the scheme plan for our new project for the state building in Seattle. We all know how Yunho had worked hard on this planner with his team and now it got bad review by him.”

“Cancel all his proposals on other projects. Now.”

“Hongjoong-“

“I SAID NOW.”

You flinch on his shout and the youngest there holds your hands to assure you that everything is fine and its all usual in an office meeting discussion. Seonghwa apologize to you before dialling a number and move away from the table towards a corner to have a private call, leaving behind you in shock as why he just apologized to you when he is the boss here and its his right to have his own private matters.

“As I was saying, Wooyoung show her around the building and don’t make a scene down anywhere please. I’m not in a mood today to handle your mischiefs. You can just leave some floors which are unnecessary but don’t forget to show her own room.”

“My pleasure. I will be spending time with my favorite girl and it’s nothing more than I can want. So, let’s go on our little tour Y/n.”

“ yeah.”

Picking up all your belonging which you had spread across the table. You glance around the room before taking your leave.

“Excuse me Sir Hongjoong and Sir Seonghwa. I will be having my leave here. Thank you.”

“Y/N? Its okay, you can call us by our names. We are friends you know, right Seonghwa?”

“Oh no worries. I’m okay calling you all like this.”

“Please.”

The pleading look in his eyes is asking you a lot of things as if it’s not only about the name but beyond that as if his eyes having that desperation to know all of your feelings right now, about your needs and there is a silent scream in them…..that is for you to stay. You nod your head slowly and all three of them happily cheered up as if you all just won a high school competition, maybe they are just creating the memories which they miss with you.

Wooyoung pat your head and taking your hand, he guides you out of the room. The two men left behind heaves a sigh upon hearing the click of the door.

“So, what now?”

“I don’t know Seonghwa but I only feel relief when she is with Woo as you know he is the one who can dodge her every queries with his playful nature but rest of others…..”

“You mean Yeosang and Yunho. I don’t think Mingi and Jongho can cause something to scare her or to make her doubt our friendship but San…I don’t know what does he always observes silently. He doesn’t speak up that much.”

“I know. The more concerning is that he is the only one who can handle Yeosang better than any of us. Speaking of yeosang, do you know where is he today? I don’t think he has anything important rather than staying inside his room like a creep like always .”

Seonghwa chuckle on hearing Hongjoong’s annoyed references on the mentioned boy. He motions with his chin to ask the boy over the call and decides to go to attend the workers down the building. Halfway through the door, he turns back to which the other raises his eyebrows to see a mischievous glint in the eyes of the standing one.

“We have worn couple coats today.”

“Seonghwa! Leave.”

Laughing loudly, he leaves the room and goes towards the elevator but as soon as he steps inside it his demeanour changes in the presence of other workers in there.

“Good morning Sir.”

Nodding his head, he acknowledges all the morning greetings when its soon to be noon. He asks the employees about their schedules throughout the day and even hesitantly asks once whether he is missing out on something but luckily everything is on a fine track. Oh, why will not he ask this as for him and his brotherly friends, everyone has a same perspective going on inside their mind and that is you. Sighing he adjusts his black tie a bit before the door slides open to his destination and proceeds to have new conversations with the approaching employees.

“Where are you?”

Shuffling sounds and groaning can be heard from the other side of the line but the person sitting here is patiently waiting for a reply to his question. He has almost asked this for three times in a row but only he got is nothing except some groans. Tapping his fingers on the decorated glass work table, gaze fixed on the paper you had earlier left there, closes his eyes in anticipation.

“I was sleeping and if it’s not something important then am cutting the call.” A groggy voice appears from the other end of the line and Hongjoong do not like the way how his friend just now greeted him.

“Yeosang….Can you come to my office right now?”

“Why?”

“I have some things to discuss with you.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Y/N was here.”

The line goes silent and in frustration, Hongjoong close his eyes again and jaw becomes tensed.

“Where is she now?”

“Wooyoung is giving her a tour around the building.”

“I’m coming.”

“I have to go now, Wooyoung, as you know I have some things to buy on my way.”

“What do you need? I can help you like I will buy them for you and then deliver it you later.”

You chuckle on his exciting tone and to your oblivion, your little actions are music to his ears. You are becoming comfortable to him because of his affectionate and too friendly nature and you can feel Beomgyu’s energy is radiating from him.

“I don’t need it for myself. It’s for my friend and he might call me right now. I can take a bus so you don’t have to bother yourself now.”

“You are not bothering me Y/N.”

You both make your way towards the hallway and you can see less workers scattered there than before and it’s obvious that they are either busy with some meeting stuffs or some might be having their lunch time. Speaking of lunch time, you are feeling hungry as you had a simple breakfast in a hurry and due to the tension creeping inside, you didn’t think about your appetite back then but now your empty stomach is kicking in. You are just hoping to end the conversation with him as soon as possible so that you can just run out of the office and have something to feed you with but he does not have any intention to leave you soon.

“So did you like all around far until now?”

“Yeah. Honestly, every floor is being polished with authenticity and expensiveness. I look like a mere worker in this luxury environment. I have never experienced such life before and it’s really awful to feel these stuffs so closely. Thank you.”

“Thank you?”

“Hm. For offering me a chance here and appreciating our friendship. I’m sorry but I can’t appreciate our bond like you all and I just hope that gradually, everything will become clear to me and I can enjoy the times spending with you.”

“Didn’t you enjoy earlier or now?”

“I didn’t mean like that. It’s just whenever I’m speaking to any of you, I feel like I have been missing out something but somehow, I just shrug off the feeling and just go with brushing off my overthinking.”

You stop when you are just an arm length distance away from the door and turn towards him with a little smile on your face. He is confused on your sudden pause and you find his lost eyes amusing that makes you laugh and it brings a smile to his face.

“Why are you laughing?”

“You look like a lost child.”

“Why did you stop suddenly? Is there any problem?”

“Of course not. Are you going to escort me to the bus stop or what? I know my way back, you should probably go back. I will be fine on my own.”

“No no it’s okay let me help you to reach there.”

“Excuse me sir Wooyoung but you have some workers on wait for you to attend them. I will take my leave here.”

“Bye….cupcake.”

On your way back to your dorm, you had a call with beomgyu and he whined how much he missed you the whole day even when he was having tons of projects to do. You almost ranted everything possible over the call and he was all the way laughing at you that how you panic on everything in your life except your career and he is glad that atleast this made you worry for your future for once. You scold him but still asked him about the things he wanted in the message and made sure to buy all the things after having the lunch in an affordable restaurant.

Entering the campus with an exciting feeling is really different from the way you left the campus in the morning when you were all in a distressed state. Adjusting the side bag, you showed your ID card to the security guard for the verification of the student. Stepping inside on the pathway towards your dorm, you notice a familiar face casually standing sideways, eyes boring on the phone. Your face lit up and you run towards him and hug him tightly with a wide smile on your face. The boy actually was not aware of your presence and got panicked on who was the intruder.

“Beomgyu…..”

“Y/N? its you I thought that you were one of my fangirls. By the way you know, I missed you so much. I was having so much work and you were not there to encourage me to survive this cruel day. You know without your love, my days are so dull.”

“Oh boy stop your drama. I am here now stop whining and tell me why you told me to meet you. Is there something important that you want to say or just your nonsense.”

Cupping your cheeks in both of his warm hands, he gives his warmest smile and you lean to his warmth. After every exhausting day, he is the one who can actually comfort you in every way possible but you don’t know whether he feel bothered by your vulnerability. You got to know him back in your high school and you were not that close to each other but gradually his clinginess and supportiveness towards you made you both bestfriends and you were so glad that both of you got admitted to the same university. You didn’t know he is interested in the same field as you but he sometimes mentioned that how he will only focus on his father’s business so it does not matter what he does after passing out the school. You are always jealous of people who have already planned out future and a well built family unlike you who does not have either. It’s okay as far as he treats you like his bestfriend, in spite of judging like others.

“Are you fine working there? I can look for something if I can help you out in some other ways.”

“I am fine Gyu. Of course everything is alright because I have you in my life and them…well those who are supposed to be my old bestfriends are the owners of the company so I am fine eventually.”

“Are you sure they are not lying to you? I mean it’s obvious that you don’t remember them but still they are desperately trying to convince you that you all know each other but somehow, I am feeling something is off about this whole situation.”

“Gyu….It’s okay. Have you got infected by my overthinking or what? Why will someone lie about knowing me in past? I really don’t remember them and also I don’t remember many school days life and I believe they must be a part of that. It’s fine that they were my friends and now they are excited to get to know me all over again. Nothing is there to worry about and what someone would get from lying about a simple friendship?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“See. You are just taking these too far and I have you who can save me from any unwanted situation. Right? Or are you gonna run away while I will be in need of you.”

“Never. I will always protect you from everyone out there and no one can reach near you when I am here.”

“I know.”

“Anyways what position did you get as an intern? You haven’t told me that.”

Groaning you brush your hairs and wet your lips with the moist tongue. The boy’s eyes in front of you following your every minute actions and how the golden ray of sun hitting your bare skin of your face and neck and reflecting the perfect tanned skin. Your brown orbs shinning yet having a dull appearance surrounding it due to the exhaustion from lack of sleep.

“Secretary.”

“Huh? Whose?”

“They told me that it will be better for me to be their personal secretary so that it would be easier for me to get used to the workfield and the work environment. Can you believe ALL OF THEM?”

“You mean you have to face those scary ones also every day?”

“Don’t remind me that.”

“I’m so happy that you are going to get tortured everyday.”

“Yaaaa! Beomgyu get your ass here.”

In the late afternoon two bickering bestfriends chasing around the campus ground, having fun in their own little world, with whispering promises to be there for each other in every situation. How they wish these days to last forever!

Nothing is meant forever.

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @vvshere @anyamaris @yeoobin @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @brrrkdslek-main @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @luhwaine @ilove-taeyong @dinonuguaegi @endeav0rsb1tch @loveforred @eriny123

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writingsfromhome · 2 months

Text

Dos and Dont’s Epilogue

Part 1 / 2/3/4

A/N: for those of you still needing more closure with this story this is for you

——————————————

6 months later:

My apartment was small but it was mine and I got to share it with one of my childhood best friends I’d reconnected with after moving back to the states last year.

Today the sun was setting on the beautiful November day. I had ordered in sushi and was enjoying a glass of wine, waiting for Deanna to get back home and tell me about her date.

These quiet evenings to myself always got me contemplative. Tonight was no different—I get to thinking about my day on set and how tomorrow was going to look.

After coming back from London and submitting my video proposal last spring, I had been rejected to nobody’s surprise. But that hadn’t stopped Harry from intervening and getting me a spot on set. It became a joke that I was a ghost intern there because really all I got to do was shadow people on set and help out where I could. And it had left me hungry for more.

I started building a portfolio and networking like crazy to get on more sets. So far I’d worked on three, once as a general assistant and twice as an arts assistant. I felt myself moving in the right direction I wanted to and it was thrilling.

I had Harry to thank for that really. And just like always, thinking about him sent a pang of achey regret through me.

I’m not sure what happened between us; we kept in touch loosely after I got back to the States. Mostly we talked about my future work and getting on set but after he actually got me on set and I got busy, our conversations fizzled out.

When I landed my second gig and had to maneuver my old job with Oretta she had ultimately let me go. I’d been bitter about failing something then but now I saw it as the kindness that it was—she had let me go and I had the room to pursue this new career.

It wasn’t easy though. The feeling of failure had driven me into the arms of a depressive episode that had taken me back home to Burbank. And when headlines were made of Harry’s new dates and women of the week, I’d taken it as a sign. We shouldn’t be in each other’s lives.

But I missed him every time I thought about him. And I always hated myself a little for not being brave enough to do anything about it, for pushing him away, and for liking him in the first place.

Clearly I was a very health person.

There was a knock on the door and I knew it had to be Deanna.

She distracts me with stories about her date and how well they hit it off. Apparently he kissed her goodnight right downstairs while I’d been drowning in misery on our living room couch.

The next morning, my phone rings at the ass crack of dawn. I expect it’s someone on set and end up being right. So with a few hours of sleep and a slight hangover from last night’s wine, I pick up a large coffee and get to work.

Last night’s thoughts bleed into my drive to work. It was when I was on set especially that I wanted to message Harry. I wanted to update him about all the cool things I was working on and hear what he thought. It was stupid but I wanted him to be proud of me too.

I wonder sometimes if I should have said something in London, been the bold one and taken a leap.

But I couldn’t have.

Harry was a damn rockstar and I was still figuring out my life. I can’t imagine it could have worked. So was it just the maybe, the what-if of us that kept looping in my mind? Or did what I feel for him mean something real, real enough not to shake so quickly.

A knock on my window scares me. It’s another one of the set assistants—Damien, waving at me. I guess I’ve just been parked staring into space. Oops.

“You need a coffee,” he tells me when I join him.

“Can you believe I’ve already had one?”

“I can probably find you a line of coke somewhere on set if you need something stronger?”

“Damien,” I pretend to be scandalized. But after working with these people over the last few years it was a pretty normal sight to see. “Ease into it first.”

He laughs, “I’m joking. I know you’re not…”

“I know,” it gets a bit awkward as it usually did with Damien and I when we started joking. “I’m joking too.”

His face flushes and I welcome someone calling me over to leave the awkward.

The day passes in a blur, the art director had a last minute change sending me to a local antique store trying to source props which was part of the job I enjoyed. With my headphones in I was in a world of structured creativity.

While I look through gold frames one of Harry’s songs comes on and I skip it automatically. I wasn’t quite ready to listen to his addictive voice croon about lovers of his past.

Not that I hadn’t tried going on dates of my own. But the thought of what-if kept me committing to anyone. If I thought about it for long enough it was actually annoying—how he somehow managed to still block my romantic life.

I’m invited for drinks after we’re done shooting for the day. Even though it’s pretty late I decide to say yes. Lately I’d spent my evenings when Deanna’s out just drinking by myself and being miserable. May as well drink with coworkers.

And I actually missed having regular coworkers, like I used to have Winnie. Shit talking about work to destress and drink was one of the highlights of making friends at work.

I have more to drink than I intended, and a small voice in my brain tells me that the amount of alcohol I’d been having recently might be a sign I’m losing it a little. But I order one last drink to shut it up.

At one point I start talking about horoscopes with someone in the bathroom and she ends up showing me how to use the lipstick I complimented them on to overline my lips, and I somewhat remember signing someone’s napkin and telling them to keep it for a few years and what it would be worth.

I also text Deanna an assortment of things and try to call my sister for a pressing matter that I can’t remember when it goes to voicemail. I end up babbling about drinking too much and needing to cut back.

I don’t know what time it is by the time I’ve ridden my high but I want to go home. I huddle by the entrance trying to remember if I came with a jacket tonight or not.

“You’re not driving home tonight are you?” Damien pops up beside me. We’d chatted throughout the night but I’d avoided any awkwardness by constantly inviting other people into the conversation. But right now he has me cornered.

“I’m a very responsible adult Damien,” I slur. “I am getting a taxi.”

“I can drive you home?” He offers.

“You were drinking too mister.”

“No,” he touches the tip of his nose. “I just had a beer and switched to soda afterwards.”

“That’s cheating,” I touch his nose and he laughs. I laugh too.

“We were invited out to drink,” he shrugs. His face flushes. “They didn’t specify what.”

“Cheater,” I tease. “D’you have a car?”

“I could drive yours home? And take an uber home from yours. We don’t live too far away.”

“No way!” I clutch my purse to me. “Nobody drives my car.”

“I didn’t realize you were so possessive.”

“It’s my car!” I let him know.

“But it’s parked on the street. You can’t leave it here weirdo.”

He had a point. Damnit.

“Fine,” I hand him my purse. He opens it tentatively and pulls the keys out.

“I just need these,” he hands my purse back.

“I need those back,” I remind him.

“I know,” he laughs, his hand coming down on my shoulder to lead me out. It sends a shiver down my spine. “I’m parking it in your garage and handing them right back.”

“Good.” I nod.

I pick the music until he tells me I shouldn’t go into singing and he switches the radio to a classical station. I pretend to snore.

“At least it might sober you up.” He pats my leg before snatching his hand off when he realizes he’d touched my bare thigh.

“I don’t feel so good.”

“I know, how much did you drink tonight y/n?”

“No I really don’t feel good.” I complain.

“Shit,” he mutters. “Just hold on.”

I do, I grip my door handle and will myself not to throw up in my car. I was at least lucid enough to know I would hate myself for having to clean it up tomorrow.

He pulls into a Trader Joe’s and I launch myself out in time to throw up on the pavement.

“Are you o-“

“Stop!” I splay my hand out behind me. This was embarrassing enough I didn’t need him to see me actually be sick. “Don’t come closer just…”

“I’ll get you some water.” He calls out and walks away.

How pathetic, I think. How pathetic was I.

Suddenly I want to cry and be left alone. I don’t want Damien driving me home, I don’t want to be drunk, and I don’t want to be here in the middle of nowhere.

When Damien gets back I’m sitting on the curb of a garden bed at the edge of a parking lot. He hands me the water and some electrolytes and gives me space which I’m grateful for. He does linger halfway in the driver’s seat and my anxiety builds until I get up and head back to the car.

“Someone kept calling you,” Damien mentions when I open my door. “I picked up after the third call. I didn’t want to bother you out there.”

“Oh, was it my roommate? Deanna?”

“No,” he scratches the back of his neck. I stare at him, waiting for him to sit back in the car and take me home. I wasn’t having fun anymore.

“Okay…?” I grab my phone from the centre console so I can check myself.

“Someone named Harry? He sounded worried?”

I look up at Damien, wondering if it was a joke even though I know it’s not. He doesn’t even know Harry. His face reflects back an awkward realization.

“Oh.” I can’t get out anything more. I could be decent and tell him that wasn’t my boyfriend—it wasn’t until this moment that I realized Damien was looking at me as more than just a casual friend. And a part of me wonders if that’s the only reason he was helping me out tonight. Then I banish the thought—that was rude. “Thanks for…letting me know.”

“I guess you don’t live with him if your roommate’s name is Deanna,” he tries to joke as he finally gets into the car.

“No that would be hard,” I reply. “He doesn’t live in the states.”

“Long distance,” he nods. I don’t reply and the car goes deathly silent as he drives me the rest of the way home.

I check my phone in the silence, Harry’s texted me. Before he called it seems:

Hey is everything alright?

Y/N I want to call you, you didn’t sound too good in your vm

I’m calling you

Shit! Did I call him first?

My face heats up with a stabbing sensation and I try to blink away the headache that was forming.

I check my call logs and sure enough after calling Deanna I’d called Harry. Why had I called him? I don’t even remember what I said in my voice message.

I groan.

“Is everything ok?” Damien asks.

“No I feel like shit-“

“Do you need me to stop again-“

“No.” I wave his concern away. “I just need to get home.”

I feel bad for him. I didn’t think I was leading him on in any way and yet he had driven me home because he liked me? I decide I’d call him his Uber myself to make it even. To feel like I didn’t owe him something.

When I finally drudge up my stairs to my bedroom I can barely be bothered to remove my clothes or take off my makeup. But my brain is wired thinking about Harry, how he called me.

I must still be somewhat drunk because as I lay horizontally in bed with half of my clothes on the floor I pick up the phone and call him.

H’s POV:

“Hi,” her voice is small and tired. My heart squeezes just hearing it.

“Y/n, you’re alright.”

“Yeah sorry, I think I mis-called you instead of my sister. Your names are beside each other.”

“So you were spilling your guts to your sister then?” I smile.

“Spilling my guts?” I can hear the strain in her voice.

I let her worry for a second longer, “No I’m joking.”

“Oh my god,” she sighs. ��What did I say? Please tell me it was nothing embarrassing? It had to be bad if you called me right?”

“It wasn’t bad.” It wasn’t. But she sounded really drunk for a Wednesday night and she was blabbering about drinking too much these days, and needing to stop. It made more sense now that I knew it was for her sister. “But you sounded very drunk. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Sort of. I just wanted an excuse to call her and life had given me a pretty one.

It was stupid that I needed an excuse to call y/n after everything we went through. But truth was I had tried to get on with my life after we drifted away. And I think I did a decent job. I made the missing part shaped like y/n smaller and smaller until it didn’t bother me as much she wasn’t around. That we didn’t talk.

It was weird because she was a constant for a year—whether I liked it or not we had to be around each other all the time while she worked for me. Right up to the end even as things soured, as I wore regret like a second skin and forced myself to continue being the dick that she came to know me as.

And then she left and it felt like loosening my tie; breathing a little easier because I wasn’t always so hyperaware of her in the same room or next room over, about how she looked that day or the way she smelled, the joke she made or how angry she was with me.

Yet it didn’t help that she lingered everywhere.

But then I got to have her. All of her for a few weeks and letting her go after that felt more akin to torture than living with the regret for months while she worked for me. It was worse because I had her and I had to let her go.

I thought I knew what falling felt like, what it felt like to love somebody in all their flaws and be seen in return. But then I met y/n, fell for y/n, and everything changed.

“I’m okay,” she says softly. “I’m home in bed now.”

“Good,” I want to ask her about him. The bloke that answered the phone.

“Where are you?” She asks suddenly. “Isn’t it very early there?”

“Nearly half past 6,” I say looking at my watch. “And I’m at the gym.”

“That’s early,” she comments.

“I’m a morning gym person now.”

“Watch out world,” she says. It’s sleepy and makes me think of her curled into me on the sofa as our voices dim into sleep. Then nudging her to stay over and falling asleep in bed with me. So many hours of movies gone unwatched because we were too busy just being in each other’s presence.

The thing was, I had to let her go; you can’t cage a bright and vibrant woman like her. But it hurt doing that.

It sucked being selfless.

“You sound tired,” I say even though I want her on the line. Even if it’s to hear the sound of her breathing. “You should go to bed.”

“Sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

My breath catches in my throat. I wanted to worry about her, to be close to her enough to worry. And the want of it feels like being punched in the gut.

“You there?” She asks.

“Yeah. Yep, sorry.” I clear my throat. “I’m still here. And it’s fine. I know what can happen when you get drunk, I’m glad you left me the voicemail.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” I miss you. I miss you so often I worry I’ll be stuck with the loss of you forever. And I care so much about you that I can’t risk ruining your life by having you.

“At least I didn’t have to go to the hospital this time.” She jokes. Her speech grows slower as I’m sure sleep pulls her in.

“No. Seemed like you would’ve had help though.” I comment. Fuck. I couldn’t resist.

“If I knew any better Mr. Styles,” she says. “I’d think that sounds like jealousy.”

She’s teasing me, I can hear it in her voice. But my heart pounds as she calls me out.

“Goodnight y/n,” I say cowardly.

“Goodnight Harry,” she replies. I wait for her to hang up first.

That morning, I have an incredibly productive gym session.

Your POV:

I remember last night in bits and pieces and I’m mostly embarrassed but I can’t stop hearing Harry’s voice in my head. The way he sounded when he said he was glad I left him the voicemail. How he sounded almost jealous at the idea that whoever picked up the phone could be more than a friend. I feel sucked right back to half a year ago when I couldn’t get him out of my mind.

The one thing I did know though, I had to really cut back on the drinking.

I go into work with a bag of doughnuts and hope nobody remembers last night in detail. I make sure to thank Damien and he’s as awkward as ever.

My thoughts are replaced by business and set instructions as the day goes on and I’m grateful for that.

At home I dissect the phone call with Deanna and when I’ve had enough I try to distract myself by asking about her life.

In a way talking to Harry again was like taking an elephant-sized step backwards—it felt like I was in the same headspace of wondering about him and yearning for him all over again. I found myself looking him up, checking to find new information on his life. Even when I could just text him and get the answers straight from him.

A couple weeks later as I park my car in my garage and make my way up to my apartment I get a call. It’s him.

“Hi? Harry?” I answer.

“There she is!” He says loudly into the phone. I have to pull it from my ear.

“Jeez you’re loud,” I comment.

“I need you to be louder,” he laughs. And I realize why he’s called. I check the time, it must be near midnight in the UK.

“Are you drunk dialling me?” My face stretches into a smile and it feels like a betrayal. Why did this man affect me so easily.

“I thought that’s what we did nowadays! Call each other drunk!”

“That was once,” I enter my apartment and put away my things while we talk.

“You’ve unlocked the garden door,” he continues. “And now I have stepped through. I am calling you.”

“He rhymes even when he’s drunk!”

“I write music!”

“I know,” I laugh. “Good music.”

“D’you listen to me?” He asks. “I never asked you that.”

“Mmm not really my taste,” I tease.

“S’cuse me?!” He sounds offended. “I have heard your taste and my music is for your palate.”

“No I don’t think so,” I was having fun.

“Y/n.” He says seriously. “I have heard you listening to Troye Sivan.”

“And? Are you comparing yourself with that fine man?”

He sputters and I continue winding him up until I finally confess: “I listen to your music. Just not lately.”

“Why?” He sounds sad.

“Are you drinking by yourself?” I ask. I imagine him in his living room, knocking back a few bottles.

“Yes. I’m drinking all by my lonely self. Because you’re not here.”

“Lonely self? That’s not what the papers say,” I say without meaning to.

“Y/n,” he lets out a small laugh. “Y/n y/n y/n. If I knew any better I’d think that sounds like jealousy.”

“Oh you’ve been keeping that in your back pocket!” I flush.

“Mhm,” he hums happily.

God, it hits me, what were we doing.

The line goes silent and I try to muster a positive voice to ask something to keep the conversation going but I find I can’t. I feel heavy and sad, like there’s a weight in my chest that’s pulling me down.

“Y/n,” he murmurs. Goosebumps erupt across my chest and I recall a memory of that exact voice in my ear with our hands entangled in his bed.

The ache in my chest grows stronger. So strong I nearly confess three words I barely admitted to myself.

I didn't understand it; how a man that made my life so miserable for so long could tug forth such intensity and longing.

He'd explained it to me—told me why he became what he did. And it just endeared me to him more.

Every man l've dated since, even the man I thought was it for me-Gray, never made me reach so deep into any feeling I was scraping the bottom looking for more.

He knew me enough to nudge me towards this new chapter of my life. This (forced) career change. He knew me in a way nobody else has. It was hard to let that go.

But he wasn't planning on sticking around for any of it—why.

“Why,” I start to ask. I bite my tongue before my impulsivity gets the better of me.

“What?” Harry asks.

“Oh nothing,” I try to play it off.

“You asking something?”

“Nope,” I deny.

“Just ask don’t be shy,” Harry taunts. “Y/n isn’t shy.”

“I-“ I’m tempted but I shake my head and then realize he can’t see me. “It’s nothing.”

“If it’s nothing then say it.” He pushes. He was pushy for being so drunk.

“Why did you stop talking to me?” I ask quickly.

The line goes quiet again.

“It takes two,” he replies. “To stop.”

“But why did you stop?” I ask.

“It wasn’t enough,” he states simply like it should make sense to me. But it doesn’t.

“What?”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore. You got cold.”

“Cold?!”

“Yes!” He shouts again.

“Too loud,” I complain.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “You got cold like…like ice. You got icy. You iced me out.”

“No I didn’t,” I deflect his accusation.

“You did! And it wasn’t enough. And I thought y/n doesn’t like me so I let you go.”

What!? I try to make sense of his drunk ramblings. It’s because I was fired from my job, I was lost and spiralling and I stopped talking. I stopped responding to his texts as much until they stopped coming altogether.

“I didn’t like you a long time ago,” I tell him. “That stopped after we talked. After you explained things.”

“Why did you stop?” He asks me instead.

“I…I was going through a rough time. I didn’t mean to but after a while I just thought it was for the better.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going through a rough time?” Harry asks with a surprising tone of clarity. “Why didn’t you let me help?”

“I didn’t want you to help.”

Maybe I did ignore Harry’s messages because I didn’t want to admit where I was. To admit that I needed his help. And I was too stubborn to admit that his connections in the industry could help me further kickstart my new career. That I could lean on him for help but it felt like cheating in an industry that liked to brag about working hard to earn where you got to. So I’d avoided him.

Jeez. I hadn’t even admitted that to myself until now. And suddenly the shame comes back tenfold. A creeping heat spreads up my neck alongside a slow squeezing of my chest as the silence stretches. I feel exposed and I want to bury myself under my blankets until the feeling passes.

“Why?” His voice breaks a little. I grit my teeth.

“I don’t know.”

“Y/n,” he says my name again and I want to cry. Because I say I don’t know but I do. And so does he. “Why are you building your walls again?”

I can’t speak, I’m so choked up with emotion and the last thing I want to do is cry over the phone to a drunk Harry. Unless this conversation sobered him up. Which is even more embarrassing.

"What do want us to be?" He asks suddenly.

"You can't ask me that," I say nervously, but the question zips through me in a frenzy.

"No you're right" he sighs noisily. "I think about you.”

"Me too," | whisper. Did he think about me when he was with all those women, I want to ask. Or was it subject to certain moments only.

"You ruined me y/n," he says it so softly I think maybe he hasn't said it at all. But he repeats it even lower and I know I didn't hear it twice.

My heart sings the same tune, and then I realize: how did I expect him to stay in touch and continue on with our lives when part of us would always be looking back at each other.

“I should go,” I try to keep my voice steady. “It’s getting late and Deanna’s coming home soon and I have to-“

“Okay,” he says but the word is laced with more. It’s okay.

“Okay.” I return. Will it be?

Silence again. The tears coating my lashes land on my cheeks and I wipe it away.

“I like hearing your voice,” Harry says.

“Me too,” I sniff.

“Goodnight y/n y/l/n.”

“Goodnight Har.”

***

I meant to text Harry after that conversation. I meant to apologize or say something—create a bridge that we can meet in the middle of. Even if it’s just as friends.

Me and him have been through a lot together, and so much on our own whilst around each other. We should be able to be friends, long-distance, pining but friends. It couldn’t be that hard.

And yet my fingers hover over his name every lunch break and bedtime. I think about him so much it becomes a permanent fixture in my brain.

And yet I never message him. Weeks go by and it stays quiet. Even from him.

On the final day on set I join some of the team for dinner and drinks. I stick to a single glass of wine and promise Damien I could drive myself home. I’d set him up with someone else on set who I noticed eyeing him with a lingering look and they had spent most of the night talking. It was sweet.

The group reminisces about the shoot and everyone pipes in about projects they were going to move onto soon. I didn’t have anything lined up right now so I listen to everyone else.

As night creeps up on us and people start to leave slowly, I text Deanna I was heading home too. After the night I spent drinking too much I’d taken to letting her know where I was and when I was heading home to make sure I stayed lucid enough on nights out. Otherwise we had agreed she would come and get me.

I step out with Damien and the girl he’s become attached to after tonight. We chat outside the place for a bit as her uber arrives and Damien points out he had driven today and parked nearby.

“I don’t know why we didn’t walk up long time ago,” I laugh and turn to Damien. “Don’t worry Damien I don’t need you to drive me home this time.”

“Uhh that’s good,” he says and motions behind me to my car with widened eyes.

“Yes,” I say with a smile. I spin around to my car and freeze.

The last person I ever expected to see leans against my passenger door, arms crossed and smiling with that smile that says I see you and I don’t care what you’re doing but I’m glad I’m here with you.

“Hi,” Harry says softly, his eyes twinkling under the street light.

“Hi?” I gape. “Wh-how-what are you…oh my god!”

His smile grows to a full grin as I throw myself at him and it’s like my mind and my whole world quiets. Like I never knew how loud everything was up until I felt the silence in his arms. Like everything would be okay because he was here.

“Oh god,” I turn back to Damien, remembering he was here too. “Sorry—I wasn’t expecting him to be here-“

“Is this Harry?” Damien asks.

I look at Harry and nod in response. Harry’s eyes flash with something as he leans forward and shakes Damien’s hand.

“I didn’t realize by Harry you meant Harry Styles uh it’s nice to meet you?” Damien’s awkwardness comes back in full force.

Harry’s eyes flicker between Damien and I and I remember that he thought there was something going on here.

“Damien and I worked together on set. Today’s actually our last day!”

“Yeah!” Damien fidgets. “It was a cool time…”

“Yeah?” Harry lights up slowly, realization dawning on him too. “Well I have to say thanks mate, for taking care of her the other night. That was you right?”

“Oh right when I picked up your call,” Damien nods. “Shit I didn’t realize who I was speaking to…” We laugh as Damien grows more awkward. “Anyway I’ll leave you two alone. G’night Y/N. Nice meeting you Harry.”

“Goodnight!” I wave him off.

I turn back to Harry with a huge grin. “You totally thought he was with me didn’t you?”

“Can you blame me?” He asks, his hand coming down on my waist, tugging me towards him. I go without hesitation.

“You’re here,” I take his face in my hands. “How? Why? When? Tell me everything.”

“I was in town,” he starts.

“Really?” I raise a brow.

He laughs, and hearing it rumble through his chest while his arms encircle me feels like a shot of espresso straight to my heart.

"Y/n," his mouth forms my name. I want to taste the way that feels again. See if that's changed too.

"You're here."

"How did you know?" I ask even though I knew it had to be Deanna.

“I have my sources,” he smiles secretly. We can’t stop smiling.

He brushes my hair to the side and it feels like a dream. He was here. He was gathering my face in his hands, hands I only dreamed of.

“I was in town,” he begins again. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking of you.”

My breath catches and I can't stop staring at him; he looks even more handsome and chiseled than the last time I saw him.

He looked like something that made my heart sing and my stomach tingle.

I trace my hand up his arm and around his shoulder. I want him to kiss me, I want to feel his arms around me.

He laughs which makes me laugh but neither of us take our eyes off of each other.

He reaches up, fingers threading through my hair. "Is this okay?"

"You're always okay," | say which makes him laugh again. What I mean to say is we're okay. Whatever you want to do is okay, as long as it's with me.

"I missed you." He whispers in my ear and it travels right to the centre of my heart.

"Prove it." I respond.

His mouth is delicate as it presses against mine, whispering soft words against them. They make me ache with a hunger I'd only ever felt around him.

When he looks at me again his eyes are more black then green but I recognize them the same. I don’t know how we’re going to make the trip back home when clearly we just want to soak each other in again.

I have an idea.

I open the backseat and Harry looks at me with a mischievous smile.

“Really?”

“You’re not getting lucky,” I roll my eyes with a smile. “But I really want to kiss you indecently and this is the closest place to do that.”

With a laugh he hustles in, tossing something in the backseat, and I follow, every inch of my body aflame. He shuts the door behind me and meets me halfway.

***

Waking up to Harry is better than catching up with him last night. Because things are so much more real when they remain the morning after. It doesn’t feel like just a dream.

“G’morning,” he mumbles when our eyes meet. He looks sleepy but content. Or maybe that’s just how I feel.

“Morning,” I smile, suddenly feeling shy. Last night was all passion and fun but the reality sets in this morning—what were we? Where were we going from here? “M’gonna brush my teeth.”

He follows me into the bathroom, luckily Deanna’s already headed off for work. He brushes with me in the small sink and we can’t stop looking at each other through the mirror. Like our eyes were magnets and they couldn’t help but find their way to the other’s.

“So did you really come all this way for me?” I ask as I brew us coffee. “Does anybody know you’re here?”

He tilts his head, “a couple people know I’m here but everyone thinks I’m just taking some time before we wrap up my album next month.”

“What!” I stop what I’m doing to give him my full attention. “You’re nearly done?”

“Yeah!” He comes closer to me, taking the coffee pot from my hand. “Final sound editing at the studio up north. So I’m s’pose to be here next month anyway but I’m just here early. For you.”

I’m afraid to ask, did that mean he was all mine for the next couple weeks of November? But the moment passes and I continue putting together a breakfast.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” I say for the millionth time.

“Me too,” he kisses the side of my neck and helps me carry our coffees to the table. “I intend to spend as much time with you as possible.”

He answers my unasked question and I feel like I’m glowing from the inside. “Yeah well I just finished on set so I’m unemployed until the next thing I’m on. So I’m all yours.”

“How’s that all going? Tell me.”

So I do. I take him through the sets I’ve been on and the people I’ve worked with. He asks great questions and I feel so deeply seen and not just because he doesn’t take his eyes off of me once.

The conversation leads to a repeat of last night and we end up spending most of the day in bed but I wasn’t complaining.

“I haven’t done this in ages,” he says with a kiss on my head. “Just stayed wrapped up in sheets all day.”

“I think the last time I did this was in London, with you.” I kiss his chin. “That feels so long ago.”

“Every day without you feels so long,” Harry says. “I shouldn’t have let it get this long.”

I shrug, “Yeah. I think I convinced myself it was good. We were fine like that. But now that I have you my god that was too long.”

He chuckles and pulls me into a deeper kiss. He tastes like sleepy familiarity and his hands grip me in places that have made a home for his fingers. I think I was in love with this man.

“What?” Harry asks. I must have paused. “You alright?”

“Yeah yeah,” I go back to kissing him but he pulls away. “No I’m fine! Promise.”

He believes me.

We spend a few days just doing nothing but everything with each other. I introduce him to Deanna and we do dinner together with Harry in a costume so he doesn’t get recognized. Deanna finds it very amusing and so do I. Harry seems tense and I worry it’s because we’re laughing at him but he reassures me it’s not.

I know it wasn’t going to last forever, Harry had a busy life to get back to, but I savour the slow moment we have all to ourselves.

Near the end of the week, while I’m driving us out to a hiking spot Harry brings up something on his mind.

“Can I say something, and you can’t get mad?”

“Well I can’t guarantee that.”

“Try not to?” He asks.

“Maybe.” I can’t promise him that.

“Fine I’ll settle with maybe,” he jokes.

“So are you going to tell me?” I eye him as I pull into the parking lot. He had gone silent.

“Yes, I’m getting to that.” He bites his lip. “Don’t take this the wrong way but you seem a bit distant. Not from me just…from yourself.”

“I seem distant from myself?” I laugh.

“Yeah,” he fidgets with his belt and we exit the car. “Like the y/n I know is only 70% there.”

“What?!”

“No see now don’t go getting mad love,” he says and his pet name only softens the moment slightly. “I just wonder if you’re really alright.”

“Of course I am,” I bristle.

“You always have this fire about you but right now-.”

“Jeez Har, if you’re comparing me to before in London I was more high strung than usual, constantly stressed and having personal issues with my ex. And you were making my life hell. Why are you comparing me to her?”

“No I know!” Harry tries to hold my arm but I brush him off and speed away down the trail. But his stupid long legs catch up easily. “This isn’t coming out how I meant to. But even when we were together last spring. You were still you. You just seem a little sad?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I pull away from him more. “You can’t go MIA for months then pop back into my life and tell me I’ve changed like it’s a bad thing.”

“Y/n you’re purposely not understanding me here,” Harry starts to grow frustrated beside me and it makes me less frustrated sharing the emotion. Like I said—I was very healthy. “I’m not saying you’ve changed. Or that changing is a bad thing! I think you’re a lot more confident and stronger than ever before. I’m just saying your light’s been a bit dimmer in the time I’ve been with you and I’m worried you’re going through something you’re not sharing.”

“Oh my god,” I feel tears prick my eyes and I blink them away before stuffing my glasses onto my face. “My light’s been dimmer? Seriously? I’m fine. I’m okay Harry. You don’t have to worry-“

“But I want to-“

“Well you don’t. And it’s a little late to try and pry me open and dissect what you think is wrong with me.”

“Well I’ve already pried you open it’s the dissecting part that—ow!”

I’ve hit him with my bottle and he shuts up. He was so not funny.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “But I’m here if you want to talk.”

Too little too late, I think bitterly. And the strength of the bitterness surprises me. I stay quiet, not wanting to spew anything I’ll regret later. He trails behind, giving me the space I need.

Apparently I was bitter about our time apart. But I know that wasn’t entirely his fault—I’d admitted to pushing him away because I’d been too embarrassed. Too stubborn to accept I could use his help. So what was it?

I didn’t think I was any less myself than I was a year ago. But as soon as I think it I know it’s untrue.

I sigh and let the sunlight filtering through the coastal oaks and shrubbery warm my skin. Harry continued a steady pace behind me and I feel slightly sorry for getting so defensive.

I continue one step at a time on the worn path walked by so many. I’d done this several times with friends and it was supposed to be special doing it with Harry but I’ve just ruined it.

I ruined it.

If I was any lesser than in my personality, like Harry said, it was probably because I ruined things. And I was upset with myself. I feel like I let Harry go, that I failed at the career I thought I was going to spend a lifetime. I ruined the thing between Harry and I with pride, by pushing him away! And life’s beaten me down with it.

I haven’t been being very honest with myself. Because the truth did hurt. And I’ve been a wimp.

I glance back at Harry but his head his down, his head of curls bouncing at the effort of the uphill slope. My heart floods with warmth just looking at him and I can’t believe I’ve been an idiot.

“Harry,” I stop in the middle of the trail and he nearly bumps into me. He steadies himself on my shoulder and I grasp his hand there before he can remove it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a bitch back there.”

“It’s alright.” He squeezes my shoulder, but his eyes are still wary. “I shouldn’t have been so insensitive. I do that sometimes.”

“No,” I rush to answer. “No you have a point. And I don’t expect you to ever stop calling me out-“

“Likewise,” he gives me a small smile that feels like relief.

“You’re right. I just don’t think I’ve sat long enough to accept it.”

His finger brushes my cheek, wiping the fallen tear. I was not supposed to cry!

“Let’s keep going,” he suggests and I’m grateful for that.

“I think,” I sniffle as my body strains to finish the final stretch of our hike. “I feel like I should be happy and grateful for where I am now. I’m actually really passionate about this new work I’ve been taking on! But a part of me feels like I’m going through the motions. And that makes me feel so shitty.”

My life in London had crashed and burned but it had felt full. Out here I was so spread apart from everyone, I no longer worked at a steady job, and the only person I had was Deanna. Sometimes I think I relied on her too much.

“I think you expect too much of yourself,” Harry puts his hand around my shoulder as we near the end and even though I’m sweaty and it’s kind of gross I let him. “I know how that goes.”

“Yeah maybe,” I brush away another tear. “I just don’t feel very present. I’m either living in the future or living in the past.”

Harry’s face twists into what I can only describe as a knowing grimace.

“Well we made it,” I gesture to the open water below us. We stand for a little while, breathing it in. It reminds me of the first music video set I’d been on with him. When we were getting along and he had seen my enthusiasm for that sort of thing.

“I’ve been living in the past a lot.” Harry admits. “More than usual.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Y/n,” he says and I turn to look at him. Right, I flush. Me.

“What the fuck did we do to each other?” I ask and we laugh. And then laugh some more, releasing a tension neither of us realized we were carrying.

We end up sitting in the ground catching our breaths again. He pulls me into his chest and kisses the top of my head.

“I don’t know how we keep screwing up.”

“It should be a record,” I laugh. “We really don’t know how to deal with each other.”

“Fucking hell,” he laughs.

“What do we do?” I look up into his eyes that are deeper than the forest we hiked through. They’re so full of love that I could drown in them willingly.

“Firstly I should tell you something, long overdue.” He says. He kisses me with a sweetness before telling me, “I’m madly in love with you. I never thought I could feel this way about someone.”

“Well I don’t know how that someone could be me,” I joke but mostly to cover up just how hard his words hit.

“You wound up in my life when I was at my worst-“

“And taken you even lower,” I joke again.

“No.” He brushes my cheek. “No, that was my own doing. You made me believe I could be better. That I should be better, that I shouldn’t be defined by past mistakes. I love you y/n.”

Woah. I wasn’t expecting that.

I scramble to sit up and face him. “Seriously?”

“So serious.”

“Harry,” I hold his face in my hands. It was true, something I barely admitted to myself but as I roll the words through my head it feels true.

“Don’t feel pressured to-“

“I love you too Harry. God. I love you. That felt good to say.”

He laughs and pulls me to him, and even though we’re smiling too hard to actually get a proper kiss in it’s one of the most romantic moments of my life.

“I don’t think this is going to solve our issues,” he says once we’ve dusted ourselves off and prepare to say goodbye to the view. “But I want to try to stay connected.”

“You’ve told me you love me there’s no getting rid of me now.” I warn him.

“I was scared,” he confesses. “I never told you I wanted you to stay. That I wanted you so fucking badly because I was scared you would get so overwhelmed by my life, how much is in the public eye and all of that. I don’t want to subject you to that-“

“We’ve already been papped together remember?” I raise a brow. He blushes as the memory surfaces.

“The night I acted like a complete arse yeah thanks for reminding me.”

“Look at you blushing,” I pat his cheek. He brushes me off. “But I know what I’m getting myself into Harry. I’ve worked for you! I know how public your life is. And we can figure it out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” I reassure him.

“Does that mean…?”

“What are you asking Mr. Styles?”

“Please don’t call me that again,” he groans. “I don’t want to be Mr. Styles to you anymore.”

“No?”

“Only if you’d be Mrs. Styles.”

Now it’s my turn to flush. He laughs at me the same way I did him.

“Harry I barely know what I’m doing with my life. But I do know I love you, and I want to be with you. So I’ll figure the life stuff out as long as I get to have you.”

“That’s very romantic.” He teases.

“I know,” I smile.

“Good. I’d give up the life I have now if it means getting to have you Y/N.”

“Romantic enough,” I tease.

“Remember when we realized we had been at the same Coldplay concert and-“

“Not this again,” I groan. “I’m not bloody asking you to give up your fame and money to start a family.”

“I know I know!” He laughs. “But I just want to tell you that you could. I wouldn’t mind.”

I fan myself, “It’s getting too romantic. Let’s get out of here.”

And that’s the note on which we make our way back down to our car, completely different how we made our way up. It sets the tone for the remainder of his time here.

8 months later:

“G’morning!” I wave to the front desk and walk to the elevator that would take me up to the apartment I called home now. It was spring in the city I’ve grown to love again.

“Is that you?” Harry’s voice calls out when I walk to the kitchen.

“Yes! And I have coffee!” I shout back. I couldn’t sleep last night—first day jitters that I always got when working on a new set.

“Bollocks!” Harry’s voice sounds closer. “I was supposed to do that for you for first day on set.”

“Too bad,” I push the coffee towards him on the island but he ignores it to come to me instead.

“Is it?” He arches a brow. His hands are already running up my sides and my breathing grows shallow. He never failed to pull this reaction from me. Even when we “hated” each other.

I can’t take the teasing so I lean up to press my mouth to his and the coffee is forgotten as he lifts me up on the island and trails his lips down my body. I didn’t need caffeine when I had this.

No. Wait. I had a job to get to.

“Harry,” I try to grab his face back up. “Harry, love, I can’t-fuck.”

“Sorry,” he smiles up at me sheepishly and if I could take a shot of that face it would seriously sustain me for the rest if my life.

“I can’t.” I pout.

“I know. Sorry I got carried away.”

“Drink your coffee,” I steal one last kiss. “Now I feel like I need a cold shower.”

His laugh echoes through the room. “I said I was sorry!”

He dramatically moves to the opposite end of the island and sits down, holding the coffee up to his face. “Mmmm.”

I smile at the man who had my soul and heart. I was so glad I’d made the plunge to move back to where he was.

After Harry left the States when he finished his album we had tried our best at long-distance. I was afraid to uproot my life to London again and he was willing to move out to San Francisco but I didn’t want him to. I knew his life was in London.

We tried going back and forth for a couple months. I’d invited him back home to Burbank during one of those trips and everyone had hit it off. It almost felt like the missing piece I was looking for to take the plunge. To decide once and for all I was moving away again.

The last time I moved I was running away from everything I knew because I thought it would gain me independence and a life I craved. But ultimately I came crawling back home.

This time I take the leap running to something.

I miss being closer to family, and living with my best friend. I beg Deanna to visit every time we catch up but recently she’s told me she’s moving in with the guy she’s been dating and it makes me feel less bad about leaving her behind again.

Harry decided to move his work life out of the flat to give me privacy, now his team worked out of a small office in central and sometimes I popped by when he was there. We tried to keep ourselves out of the limelight, and so far things had stayed private.

“I’m going to pick you up tonight,” Harry reminds me. “Are you sure I can’t give you a lift there too?”

“No I want to take the train,” I insist. I needed my first day to be independently mine.

We chit chat as we finish breakfast and then I’m out the door again towards my first day. It’s a cool morning but the sun climbs into the sky and I know it was only going to get warmer.

I had promised the city that I’d be back one day and this was it. I had laid down roots once before and I was back to try once more; my heart was open enough to embrace it, healed enough to love it again.

I was embracing life again and it felt like my glow was back.

Jeff keeps asking if you’re showing up to the album launch, Harry texts.

Obviously, does Jeff not want me there? I text—it was a running joke between us ever since we came out to Jeff that he hated us together. His reaction had been surprise and then resignation. He was tight-lipped about us any time he saw us together.

He’d rather you throw the party.

I didn’t miss that part of the job. Now when I look back at my old career I’m not sure how I did it for years. It was a stress I didn’t want back.

He’d have to pay me a million dollars, I text back.

I’ll let him know your new rates

I get to the tube and sit down. As I lose service I get one last text from Harry.

I love you. Break a leg

And then: but don’t get concussed or anything

I roll my eyes but the smile stays on my face. To be loved is to be known but to be loved is also to have someone else know all of your stupid moments and know you won’t ever live them down.

I send back a heart and an eye-roll emoji.

The tradeoff was worth it…most of the time.

#writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #fic #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #musician!harry #harry stylesxreader #enemies to lovers #dos and dont’s #epilogue #please know I reviewed this piece only like once so take it for what it is #and yeah

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drunk-on-dk · 1 year

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1-800-CUPID | Boo Seungkwan (m)

Pairing: Boo Seungkwan x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff/Romance, Slice of Life, f2l, Smut (18+ only, Minors DNI)

w/c: ~7.0k words (editing was hard on this, sorry if there are any mistakes)

a/n: Happy Valentine's Day to all you lovely people! This is part of the @svthub The Story of Pink Eros ~ A Valentine’s Day Collab, please go support all the other wonderful writers who have written for this collab as well as eve4ryone in the network. They are all such wonderful, talented people, and I was very excited for my first collab ever!

content warnings below the cut!

c/w: protected sex!; some fluff, some romance, reader is having a tough few weeks and is a bit cynical; teasing; a bit of unrealistic scenarios but it's all for fun; mutual pining; hotline bling boo; (reunited) friends to lovers; some Jun x reader mention, but minor plot; alcohol mentions; explicit smut but relatively vanilla; love-making of sorts; lots of praise and whining; a bit of marking if you squint; please let me know if i'm missing anything big!

Today had to have been a cruel joke on top of your, for lack of better words, already shitty-ass week. Work was more stressful than usual with the end of the year reports still piling on your desk even though it’s already February. The sad part was even if you wanted to cut lose after work, you didn’t have any friendly enough coworkers to grab a drink with and complain about the amount of work you’re drowning in together. Nor did you have any friends who lived close enough to invite out last minute.

The cherry on top was the painful reminder of your lackluster love life upon passing the local flower shop on the way home from yet another late night in the office. You scoffed at the array of gorgeous red-rose bouquets and tacky heart shaped chocolate boxes when you had passed the cute shop. The disdain you felt must have made you black out a bit because, before you knew it, you found yourself in the convenience store a few blocks down with two of your favorite wine bottles in hand.

Thank God it’s Friday, you thought. At least you can unwind tonight.

Coming to reality and humming in approval, you settle on grabbing a pack of your favorite ramen as well, grumbling slightly to yourself before heading to the self-check-out. “Well deserved, right? Who says I can’t enjoy my own presence. I don’t need someone to buy me flowers or chocolate. Wine and ramen will suffice.”

Sure – maybeyou were being bit cynical, but after the week you had you didn’t care if you were going a bit crazy. It was well justified.

However, the questioning look that the cute old lady gave you in the checkout next to yours did make you feel a bit sheepish, apologizing slightly for your off-putting behavior and giving her a bright smile in return when you politely bid her a good night.

By the time you got home, you were already kicking your heels off your sore feet before you even made it past your apartment door. Quickly making a beeline for the wine opener tucked away in the depths of the kitchen drawers and shedding your work clothes after pouring yourself a hefty glass of wine. Tonight was going to be a movie night you determined, opting to change into your usual movie-watching uniform - everything is oversized and enough to keep you cozy and warm.

Letting out a sigh, you sink into the anticipated comfort of your well-lived-in couch. It was soothing to cozy up with a blanket after a long day, taking a sip of your wine and letting the warm, tingly feeling of the slightly tarte liquid wash over your body.

Even with your pessimistic, slight mental breakdown over the Valentine’s Day gifts earlier, you found yourself pulling up The Notebook. Why the hell not at this point? You sure could use a good cry.

And you sure did have a good cry. About a wine bottle and a half into the movie, the crocodile tears were rolling uncontrollably down your cheeks. To be fair, you never cried this much during an inane romance movie, but this week had you craving affection, like would you ever find the Noah to your Allie? You could really use a good hug right now, at least.

It was almost a sign from the heavens above when a number for the local relationship advice hotline came up as an advertisement on one of your social medias after the movie had ended.

Honestly, your algorithms were getting a little too accurate lately.

However, rather than being freaked out by the oddly direct ad, something possesses you to give the line a call. Maybe it’s the wine, maybe it’s the movie, maybe it’s been your wildly stressful week. Maybe it’s the shitty dating app that somehow always lands you a crap date. But, with your nth bereaved sigh of the day, you slowly tap the 1-800 number into your keypad. It seemed legitimate enough, unlike one of those ‘Find Hot Sexy Singles in Your Area’ sort of advertisements.

1-800-CUPID – a quick tap of the phone button has you dialing the hotline. You almost fly off your couch when the line starts playing an elevator-esque soundtrack rather than the usual ringing sound.

There was time to back out. There is time to hang up the phone. Surely the operator wouldn’t be offended if you just hung up.

Just like that the music cuts out – a cheery voice now introducing themselves on the other line, and much to your dismay you found yourself unable to end the impulsive phone call after somewhat recognizing the voice.

“Hello, you have successfully reached Cupid, the hotline for all your relationship and dating questions. Please note that all calls are recorded and monitored. This is Boo talking, how may I assist you today?”

“Boo?” You mutter out dumbly after a beat goes by. Your mind is racing, becoming a bit dizzy from how hard you’re thinking and the foggy haze of the sweet alcohol, swearing you could identify the voice on the other side of the call.

“Yes, this is Boo!” He chirps. “I am one of the local cupids right in your area. How can I help you?”

There is a slight cadence to his tone that has the lightbulb going off in your head, actually making you jump up from the couch this time, needing to stabilize yourself a bit before talking again.

“Boo?” You almost shriek. “Could this by chance be a Boo Seungkwan I’m speaking to?”

You can hear him hum hesitantly over the speaker, only encouraging you to keep pressing for an answer.

“This is Y/N Y/L/N,” you continue, starting to doubt if you should be sharing this information, but screw it. You swear you hear him gasp in slight recognition, but you continue regardless. “From university? I’m not sure if you’d remember, but you still owe me that drink you promised me on graduation day.”

For a second, you find yourself smiling, reminiscing on your college days, and thinking of the bright boy that you adored so much. Boo Seungkwan had your heart for most of your college years, but you never dared to act upon it. Afterall, he was too busy meddling in other people’s business, including yours. He used to tease you incessantly, poking and prodding at your plans, constantly trying to set you up on blind dates, but never noticing how much you doted over him.

Your heart was pounding at this point, unsure of how you ever lost contact with Seungkwan, and how stupid you’d feel if it wasn’t him.

“Ding ding ding,” he sing-songs. “I remember the drink I owe you. You bet that Kim Mingyu would trip over his own feet during his diploma acceptance and you won.”

You were literally happy dancing, feet quietly shuffling beneath you after receiving confirmation that you were right. You somehow ended up reconnecting with Boo Seungkwan over a damn relationship hotline call.

“Sorry, Y/N, but why’d you call the 1-800-Cupid hotline?”

Shit, you’re faced with reality again, aren’t you? Thanks, Seungkwan.

“Well, Boo,” you teasingly emphasis his call name, but exhale sorrowfully before continuing. “My love life isn’t so great post-undergrad life either. Surprise, surprise.”

“Ah, still prioritizing work just like you did in uni? You know you always worked too hard, but I think that’s why we were two peas-in-a-pod back then.”

A shy smile falls on your features, “maybe, but honestly, I don’t really know why I even called. Just a bit glum about my dating life, and this call was a spur of the moment thing. Speaking of, why are you working for a relationship hotline?”

“It’s a fun side-job,” he simply states, and you can almost imagine the satisfactory purse of his lips and shrug of his shoulders. “Anyways, is there a way that I can assist? Once again, the call is recorded and monitored.”

You let out a bit of a chuckle, “actually, yes, why not? Do you have any suggestions on how I can land myself a valentine this year?”

There is a bit of a flirty lilt to your tone, but, unless he ignores it, it seems to go right over Seungkwan’s head. Shit, maybe you do need dating or relationship advice.

“Well, Y/N, where do we begin? What are your plans for this weekend?”

“I was just going to stay in and – “

“ACK,” he cuts you off before you can finish your sentence. “Wrong answer. First of all, you need to get out and meet new people, make some attempts at flirting. It doesn’t mean you have to go clubbing and all of that, just try getting out to your local coffee shop and making eyes with the cute barista. Second of all,” he huffs slightly before continuing, “put your work down for a night and focus on yourself. Some good self-care can really help more than you’d think. Treat yourself with something good for you. Finally, maintain a positive attitude, don’t be so grouchy about love like I know you are. Go out and after applying those rules, and I’m sure you’ll have someone falling head over heels for you.”

You hum in consideration, taking note of what he said, but not sure how much it all helped. “Thanks, Boo,” you can’t help but tease him. “I’mnot sure how much I can accomplish in a weekend, but I can give it a shot.”

“My pleasure, is there anything else I can assist with? Any other dating questions?”

“I think that is enough for one night, Boo. I’m shocked I even called, but I’m glad it was you somehow.”

The line goes silent for a bit, unsure if you accidentally disconnected, wondering if maybe there was a time limit on the hotline, but then he speaks again.

“I’m glad I could help,” he sighs, but you could almost picture the smile on his face. “Well, this will complete your call with your local cupid, Boo. Have a wonderful evening!”

Just like that the call is over. Part of you feels a bit better, enjoying connecting with an old friend, but also slightly dejected that it was just over a one-time, freak accident call to a love hotline.

This had sent you into an hour long spiral, searching through your phone for his old cell number, but finding that you had lost it upon purchasing a new phone and losing all your backup data. You scoured the internet for his social medias and came across some of his accounts. However, you refrained from reaching out just yet, determining that it may be a little too soon to pounce on the idea of reuniting in person after the hotline call.

However, you did have a new fervor after speaking with Seungkwan. He was right, you really should just get out in the world, take some time with yourself, and drop your glum attitude.

You found yourself doing some self-care the next day, just as he suggested, deciding to take baby steps before you enter the real-world. Really, you took your time, deciding to make a full-course breakfast and finally sitting down to read the book you’ve had on your shelf for month now that you’d been dying to crack open.

You felt a bit rejuvenated after just doing that in the morning. Usually, you’d find yourself pulling out your work laptop, the curse of remote work still haunting you even on the weekends though you didn’t have to put time in during them, you just felt obligated to work.

However, taking the morning for yourself had been nice, and was a good kick-start for a full day of self-care routines. You cleaned up your apartment; washed your bed sheets and pillows; practiced some mindful meditation; and even pampered yourself with an at-home spa treatment.

Truthfully, when you woke up the next day, you were feeling brighter than ever before on a Sunday. For the first time in a while, you took your time getting ready, rather than following your dull work routine, and drove yourself to your local coffee shop.

You had followed Seungkwan’s advice so far, taking on self-care and attempting to go out and meet new people. But, oh how hard it was to stay positive though, especially when the coffee shop was flooded with couples sharing cute, themed drinks and pastries.

You reigned yourself in though, trying not to roll your eyes at the lovely couples, but rather smiling brightly at the admittedly cute, blonde barista behind the register. Allowing your eyes to dart to his name tag, you noted his name was Jun, and he had a couple of endearing moles dotted on his face.

“What can I get for you today?” You can tell he’s a sweetheart just by his tone of voice, and his kindness travels to his eyes.

Hey, maybe Seungkwan’s, AKA Boo from 1-800-Cupid’s, advice would work, maybe you could find yourself a valentine out in the wild like this. Why not flirt it up with the cute barista like he had mentioned?

“Just an iced Americano, please,” you respond politely, gently handing him your card when he gives you your total.

“It’ll be ready in a few minutes,” Jun says with a shy smile, nodding to the corner of the counter where he’ll place your drink once it’s all set. Whilst he prepares your drink, you two continuously make brief eye-contact, each time making Jun’s ears turn a darker hue of red.

Is this flirting? Are you doing a good job at making someone flustered? Uh-oh, maybe you’ll have to buy Seungkwan a drink for giving you helpful advice. You’re not really doing anything out of the ordinary, but he was convincing enough to get you out from under your rock.

Your suspicions are confirmed when Jun hands you your drink, a phone number scribbled on the cardboard sleeve wrapped around the cup with his name.

Oh shoot, he just gave you his number.

He’s quick to turn away, seemingly shy by his bold attempt at giving you his number, but you politely respond with a thank you, acknowledging the number on the cup with a small ‘cheers’ motion.

There is a bit of a pep in your step when you leave the coffee shop, wandering down the block and breathing in the crisp winter air until you find yourself a comfortable park bench.

Mmm, an Americano has never tasted so sweet.

You’re about to enter Jun’s number into your phone to text him until someone jumps in front of you, their shadow blocking the sun from your face and illuminating their figure when you look up at them.

Low and behold, it’s Boo Seungkwan in the flesh, a sun halo surrounding his frame and making the boy look more angelic than you remember him being, his cherubic features lighting up in delight when you finally recognize him.

You’re leaping into his arms at this point, your own arms wrapping around him and almost losing your iced americano in the process.

Apologizing profusely for almost spilling coffee all over him, you excited greet your old friend, “Seungkwan! You’ll never believe how my weekend has gone so far. Or should I say, Boo from 1-800-Cupid, because your advice worked. I was given someone’s number today!”

You can tell Seungkwan is trying to process your excited rambling, shaking his head upon receiving your praise with a pshhh sound escaping his rosebud lips. However, his smile widens once he realizes just how happy you are. “I’m glad to hear it helped, Y/N.”

Once again, there is that silence between you two, the only sound being the swirling wintery wind and the sound of your breath as you calm down from your excitement. Your stomach is doing flips and you swear your entire body has heated up an additional 20 degrees even though you’re drinking an iced americano in cold weather.

Something about Seungkwan still makes your brain and heart short wire even after all these years. You’d like to think that maybe you have a similar effect on him, especially when he seems to attempt to speak, but can’t seem to form a coherent sentence.

Little did you know, Seungkwan was shocked just by how beautiful you were a year or so after graduating. You sounded even more mature than you had been before over the call he had with you, and he could only assume how well time had treated you. He was correct, you were still just as stunning to him, if not, even more than before.

“It’s good to see you in person, Seungkwan,” you finally breathe out, deciding to encourage some sort of conversation rather than staring blankly at each other.

“It’s a bit of an odd coincidence, isn’t it?” He jokes, “Somehow you ended up calling my side-gig, and somehow I’ve ended up walking past you on my way to the shops.”

“Maybe it means we should be friends again?” You nudge him slightly, enjoying the way he leans into you to push you away a bit, a slight blush shading his cheeks when you continue to reminisce on your college years.

Such as that time Vernon spilled his coffee all over the tech room keyboard, earning him a $50 fine to replace the new one after he had spent all his money on new headphones. Or that time that Mingyu fell down a flight of stairs at a frat party, only to pop up after the entire crowd gasped and chug an entire beer. Mingyu and you had kissed that night, which that memory earned a slight roll of the eye and snarl of the lip from Seungkwan.

You two had found yourself in the coffee shop again after Seungkwan had slurped down your americano, even though he had only intended to sample it. Jun was still working the counter and seemed a bit surprised at your reappearance, especially with a new friend this time, but greeted you just as charmingly as earlier.

Seungkwan found himself meddling in whatever you and Jun had going. You begged him not to say anything to the unsuspecting barista, but Boo, AKA Mr. Cupid as you’d like to dotingly refer to him as, couldn’t hold back his attempt to strike the boy with his arrow.

Oddly enough, Seungkwan had somehow landed you a date for tonight with Jun. Unsure on how he could have ever accomplished that, but that was Seungkwan for you.

Admittedly, Seungkwan did it just because you were so cute when you were flustered. It was just like how he’d mess with you in college. He liked the way your cheeks blushed when you were informed that Jun agreed to a date with you. He liked the way that you suddenly got nervous, slightly panicking over what you could possibly wear to a dinner. He really liked the way you pulled him into a tight hug, basking in your warm scent as you nuzzled into him before saying goodbye.

Of course, you two exchanged numbers again, letting him know that you had lost his, but you’d like to catch up some more. Seungkwan obliged, hoping you’d ask to do so, and that maybe he could buy you that drink he owed you. However, you insisted you now owed him a drink after successfully landing you a date around Valentine’s Day.

Seungkwan wouldn’t admit it, but he could feel his heart strings pull at the thought of you going on this date. It was unfair to him how he suddenly had you back in his life, but here he is, self-sabotaging, and encouraging you to take a path in your love life that does not lead you back to him.

He sighs dejectedly as he watches you walk away, that bright smile of yours burning into his memory as you turn around to wave him one last goodbye, shouting out a “no good luck?” and only turning back around once Seungkwan lets you know to “break a leg, you’ll need it.”

Seungkwan’s heart broke a little more when he didn’t hear from you that night. He assumed the date went well, and that his job here was done. Maybe he finally had a successful intervention in your love life, even though he didn’t have the guts to approach you himself. Maybe he was just projecting onto you, he should really take his own advice sometime.

Interestingly, you had texted Seungkwan the next day with no mention of the date. He tried to ask about it, but you didn’t spill any details.

Honestly, you were a bit embarrassed. Jun and you quickly realized you were not at all compatible romantic relationship-wise, and he kept making comments about how close you and Seungkwan seemed, no matter how much you insisted that this was the first time you’d seen him in a while.

Jun had given you a dubious look, sighing and offering some of his own advice. “How about rather than meeting new people, maybe you should focus on rekindling what you already clearly have.”

Jun’s words stuck with you; the date had gone well, but not romantically. He was a great guy, but he was right. You could not get Seungkwan out of your head, and everything in you was refraining from typing up a long-winded paragraph to the boy you had just reunited with, confessing your everlasting feelings that just can’t seem to be shaken off.

Cupid got you good. However, it seems as if his arrow misfired and hit you, inevitably making you fall deeper for Mr. Cupid himself.

Seungkwan couldn’t shake the aching feeling, he was anxiety ridden about your date, constantly asking if you’ve seen Jun again, or begging you to let him know if it went well.

God, Seungkwan thought, maybe he was a bit too powerful in his meddling after all.

It had been a week since your first date with Jun. Jun was right, you shouldn’t be meeting new people, not when you had Seungkwan back in your reach.

It was another horrible week at work and Valentine’s Day was approaching. However, this week when you saw the Valentine’s gifts on your walk home, part of you yearned to receive them. No longer scoffing at the chocolate and flower arrangements, but now dreaming of receiving them from you-know-who.

Seungkwan was also driven a bit mad. Growing increasingly infuriated at your lack of information, especially since he had helped you land the date in the first place. Especially not because it was internally making his heart shrivel with each passing day. Nope, he refused to admit the continuous ping of his heart with each text message he received from you.

Seungkwan (Boo AKA Mr. Cupid): earth to Y/N? any updates? V-day is coming up and I need to know if I’ve done my job

Y/N : no details that are of any interest to you!!!

Seungkwan (Boo AKA Mr. Cupid): umm hello? they are all of interest to me

Y/N: now why would that be?

Seungkwan almost believes he is caught red-handed until his phone pings with another message from you.

Y/N: What about that drink you owe me? Maybe I can fill you in then

Seungkwan (Boo AKA Mr. Cupid): Deal… meet me at Barry’s Bar at 7 pm and I’ll get you that drink in exchange for an update

Y/N: see you then!! no promises though! This is a drink from an old bet, there is no obligation to update you on my dating status

Seungkwan scoffs, but he’s always loved the banter that came naturally between you two. Even though he knows it will be like pulling teeth to get any information from you, Seungkwan is still looking forward to getting drinks with you, finally having the opportunity to spend time with you in person again.

Seungkwan doesn’t know it, but you make the extra effort tonight. You go through all your self-care steps before catching a cab to Barry’s Bar, even going as far to spray your special perfume before heading out.

You don’t’ know it, but Seungkwan’s breath catches in his chest when you arrive. Did you just get more beautiful every time he saw you? Did you have a glow because you were dating Jun?

Seungkwan is quick to buy you your first drink, clinking your two beer bottles together in a toast.

“Cheers to Mingyu tripping and falling at commencement!” You joke before taking a sip, almost getting sprayed by Seungkwan who had already taken his own sip and choking down his laughter and drink.

Once he settles, he almost curses you out for saying such a thing when he had already taken a drink. You chuckle almost maniacally, loving the rise you get out of him from embarrassing him slightly, finding it endearing how his lips purse to hide his impending smile, and noting the way his cheekbones rise even higher from holding back more laugher. Fuck – he’s cute.

Everything is so natural between you two, you quickly notice after a couple of more drinks. Seungkwan refuses to let you pay for any, especially when you finally drunkenly admit that there is nothing between you and Jun.

You almost swear he seems relieved when you dish the news, noting the way his tense shoulders relax and how one side of his lips quirk upwards. His reaction deserves a teasing smack to the arm, earning a pathetic whine from you as the thought of Jun possibly reading the situation incorrectly may land you back in no-love-life-ville. Seungkwan not reciprocating your feelings floods your mind and sends you into a considerable twist of emotions.

Seungkwan isn’t sure what to do when suddenly you’re tearing up. He swears you haven’t drunk that much, nor did he think Jun mattered all that much to you.

“What’s wrong?” He’s quick to soften, fingers instinctively reaching out to brush away the tears staining your cheek, and eyes darting around to make sure there are no concerned on-lookers. “What happened, Y/N?”

It doesn’t go unnoticed how you lean into Seungkwan’s hand, the palm of his hand burning up as you press your soft cheek further into his touch. It makes Seungkwan’s heart skip yet another beat.

“Could you please not meddle with my love life anymore? I know it was my fault calling that hotline, but I didn’t think it would have been you. Can you not do what you did in university? Just please stay out of it?”

“Of course, is there anything I can do though otherwise?” His voice is quiet, almost hard to hear if it wasn’t for the fact that he was slowly leaning closer towards you from where he’s sat on his own barstool.

“Can you just give me a hug?”

Seungkwan is quick to pull you into his embrace, gentle hand brushing through your hair as he soothes you. He’s not sure where this is all coming from still, but he doesn’t have it in him to banter with you, especially when you just started crying in a public place.

“Anything else, Y/N?”

You’re deciding to be bold, attempting to test the waters even though you fumbled the bag a bit. Really, you wanted to confess that you couldn’t date Jun because you’ve come to about your feelings about Seungkwan, but you broke down before you could even mutter a confession. You sniffle, pulling back from the boy and emboldening yourself, “could you come home with me?”

Seungkwan almost chokes but refrains from questioning your intentions. He doesn’t want to assume anything, but his heart quickens even faster than the rate it’s been at all night with you.

Once again, when Seungkwan fails to speak, you speak up again. “I don’t feel like drinking much more. Just for comfort? It’s been another long week and I just need a friend.”

Seungkwan almost feels disappointed at the word friend, but he could never reject you, even if it meant you two were forever on ‘friend’ terms. “Of course, let’s go, Y/N.”

Seungkwan takes you home safely, offering his shoulder to lean on throughout the cab ride home. His thumb rubs comforting circles into your thigh the entire way, which is enough to make heat pool in your belly, but you try to suppress it.

The tension is thick when you two enter the elevator, neither of you know how to decipher it, but something has clearly changed. Seungkwan’s hand never leaves your waist, thumb still rubbing your body soothingly, but you assume it’s more of a protective thing rather than an advance on you.

Of course, he is painfully respectful. He patiently waits for you to shower, setting up camp on your couch and flipping on whatever show is on TV. For now, you find refuge in the shower, trying to cool yourself down and get your head on straight.

Seungkwan bites his lip when you pass by in a towel, a shy look on your face when you notice he’s caught you. You change into your normal pajamas, grabbing him a loose t-shirt and sweatpants, and deciding to continue your emboldened actions.

Maintain a positive attitude, like he once said. Stop crying and wallowing in self-pity and get your act together.

You plop down awkwardly next to him on the couch with the folded clothes, only to turn and present them to him with a question. “Stay the night? Maybe we can share the bed like we did in college a few times when we’d all pile into one dorm room after a night of drinking?”

You try to make it sound innocent, but you yearn for his touch.

Your heart almost flips when he wordlessly agrees, grabbing the clothes out of your hand and letting you know he’s going to change.

Once Seungkwan has changed, you can’t help but giggle at the clothes on him. Your ratty t-shirt looks awfully cute as he models it for you, claiming “it’s the softest thing I’ve ever put on,” when you let him know he looks ridiculous.

Seungkwan pulls you into a bear hug when you continue to tease him, tugging you into an endearing embrace as you two giggle in unison.

It’s all too cute for you and it has you pulling away to prevent yourself from cracking again. Seungkwan seems to feel the same, clearing his throat before releasing you, and awkwardly peering at the ground beneath his feet.

“I’m pretty tired, I don’t know about you,” you fake yawn in between your words, “but I’m ready to go to bed.”

“Of course,” Seungkwan agrees, nodding promptly and following you to your room. “I’m pretty tired too.”

You slowly pull your sheets up, slipping beneath the warm comforter and looking at him expectantly.

“Are you sure you want me to sleep in your bed?”

“Why not? For old-time’s sake.”

Seungkwan nods again, seeming to be in deep thought as he slowly joins you under the covers, repeating what you had already said, “for old-time’s sake.”

Once again, it is all too natural the way his body finds yours, pulling you experimentally against his body. He’s so soft and so warm, and your skin is littered with goosebump with each warm breath of his against the shell of your ear.

You’re not sure if you can fall asleep, but you find yourself dozing off into the best rest you’ve had in weeks. With Seungkwan you’re not as stressed, he’s always had that effect on you even if he pushes your buttons and is a bit too nosy.

Maybe it was a bad decision inviting him into your bed because you only dream more about what you two could be, the damn cupid character haunting you even in your dreams.

When you wake up the next morning, you’re still wrapped tightly in Seungkwan’s arms, his rhythmic breathing continuing to send shivers throughout your entire body. Carefully, you shift in his hold, coming face to face with the boy you yearn so badly for.

You take him the soft swell of his cheeks, his adorable nose that you just so badly want to poke, and all the way to his plush lips - that if you so slightly leaned in closer, you could peck with your own.

You quietly gasp when Seungkwan’s eyes flutter open, crumbling in his grasp slightly as he groans before covering his face.

“Y/N,” he whines, and you can tell he’s pouting beneath his hand, “don’t look at me like that. Not this early in the morning.”

He’s peeking through his fingers at you now, noticing how your eyebrows raise questionably, but you opt to tease him, “are you being shy, Seungkwan? I didn’t expect Boo would be so shy in the morning.”

You poke at his sides, attempting to tickle him and continuing to tantalize the poor boy who’s wrapped up in your sheets with you, “what would 1-800-Cupid Boo offer as advice to someone so shy?”

Seungkwan irrevocably fights back, pinning your arms on each side of your body, feeling way more intimate than usual because of your proximity and setting.

Shit, there is that silence as you stare at each other again, but you could swear you could hear the pounding of your heart in your ears.

With that, you’re craning your neck up and crashing your lips against his. Fuck it – his lips feel all too perfect against yours, the buds molding together as he reciprocates just as much hunger and desire.

You should have known Seungkwan would be a whiney lover, shivers running down your spine as he moans into your mouth. You can’t stop yourself from bucking your hips up towards him, brushing your pelvis against the hardening bulge contained in his sweatpants as he becomes even whinier when you pull your lips away from his.

“Any advice, Boo? Anything you’d share on the 1-800-Cupid hotline?” You’re teasing him even though he has the upper hand, body steady over yours as he tries to chase your lips.

Seungkwan groans, growing old of your teasing and getting even more turned on by the second. “Shut up, you smartass. Just kiss me again, don’t ruin the moment.”

With that, you’re smiling and allowing him to reattach his lips to yours, granting him entry when he licks and nibbles at your bottom lip. You’re both whining messes, pathetic sounds being exchanged when Seungkwan grinds down after shifting his weight between your legs.

He’s already so needy, even when you two still have layers separating your most intimate parts. His grinds down so desperately against your clothed core, but you can already feel the heat building between you two as he continues to fight your tongue for dominance. You can feel how hard he is; you’re amazed how fast he was turned on just from an attempted tickle fight turned sexual.

You break your lips away from his once again, giving him access to the expanse of your décolletage when one hand keeps a single arm of yours pinned down, whilst the other travels to cup behind your neck, only encouraging you to reveal the delicate skin to him.

You let out a soft gasp when his teeth nip right below your ear, hand gripping the side of your neck even tighter. His lips are so warm and soft on your skin, you find yourself in a dizzy haze when he slowly starts undressing you.

Before you know it, you’re stripped down for him, delicate lips trailing all over your body as he hums and sighs in approval, removing his own clothes as well.

“Kwan, how are you already so hard?” You purr, your small hand wrapping around his brooding cock whilst he remains situated between your legs, making him shiver when your thumb trails over the tip and spreads his pre-cum further down the shaft. “Is this all for me?”

He whimpers as you continue to work at his shaft tantalizingly slow, bending over to now spread kisses from your collarbone down to your perk nipples. He has barely spoken, only humming ‘yes’ in response whilst suckling at your nipples. The feeling is so euphoric how slow and gentle he’s being with you, but you already need more.

He’s surely leaving bruised marks over the expanse of your chest. He seems lost in the valley of your breasts until your hand starts working a little faster, making him buck into your fist and let out a desperate sigh.

Seungkwan’s hands travel down your bare body, eyes scanning every part of your skin slowly and almost as if he is memorizing all the curves and little bumps along the way. You’d feel a little sheepish if it wasn’t for his constant praise.

“So pretty,” he hums, jerking into your touch and almost lost in the pleasure until he lets out a loud cry. “So perfect, but please stop touching me, baby. You’re going to drive me crazy.”

You oblige, but only because his eyes pour into yours, silently begging you to let him last. You’d like to see him beg, but that is for another day.

He’s kneeling between your legs now, fingers experimentally trailing between your thighs until they land at your core. You can see him shiver when you immediately react, especially when it’s very clear how wet you’ve become from your prolonged foreplay.

“So, so pretty,” he moans, replacing his fingers with the tip of his cock, seemingly using all his self-restraint before he asks you his next question. “Do you have a condom, baby?”

You nod desperately, pathetically sighing when he pulls his tip away from your center, “in the top drawer. Please, Kwan, I need you now.”

He’s quick to pull the condom on, rolling the latex onto his shaft before finding his home between your legs yet again. He takes his time, running the bright red tip leisurely between your folds and spreading your wetness. Without warning, he lines back up with your core, sinking right in between your walls as if they were made perfectly for him.

Moaning in unison, Seungkwan’s body weight falls onto yours as he bottoms out, lips passionately finding yours to pull you into another heated kiss. You’re swallowing each other’s noises, breathing and heart rate becoming one as you soak each other in.

You need more, so you start to grind up into him, taking his perfectly sized cock even deeper. Seungkwan’s pulls away, leaving you both gasping as he pulls out just to snap his hips right back, drilling his length even deeper into you.

Everything had been so slow up until now, but Seungkwan’s quick to find his rhythm, hammering his cock between your walls with each harsh roll of his hips. The pleasure has you screaming, hands running up his shoulder blades to find purchase in his bedhead.

“Fuck, Kwan,” you cry out, “you feel so good.”

There’s a whirring sound, a grumbling coming from his chest as he agrees with you. It’s incredibly hot, especially when his voice still sounds whiney as he reciprocates the praise. “You feel so good, baby. You’re so warm and tight.”

You’re lost in each other, the sound of wet skin slapping against each other becoming drowned out by your whimpers and cries. His hands are warm around the nape of your neck, addicted to pulling you into desperate kisses as he continues to be sucked in between your folds, pussy clamping even tighter around his length with each direct hit to your sex.

You don’t want it to end, but you feel the tidal wave beginning to wash over you. Seungkwan can tell by the way your body begins to go limp, one leg hooking around his waist to keep him deep inside of you.

“Finish with me, Kwan. Please.” You mumble against his lips, hands grabbing at his shoulders as you try to keep your orgasm at bay.

“C’mon, baby,” Seungkwan coaxes, another accurate and deep roll of his hips pushing you both over the edge, the tidal wave of both your orgasms hitting you like a tsunami. “That’s it, come with me.”

Just like that, your both writhing and shaking in pleasure, back arching up to press your chest even tighter against his as your bodies and lips continue to mold. You can feel the throb of Seungkwan’s cock inside you, milking both of your orgasms until he reluctantly pulls out, body falling flat besides you as you both let out a sigh of delight.

“Good job, Cupid,” you sigh dreamily, rolling over to drink in his blushed features. “Was this your plan all along?”

Seungkwan lets out a joyous laugh, drawing you into a sweet kiss before ensuring you’re sated, absolutely prioritizing taking the upmost care of you after having you so early in the morning.

Maybe Valentine’s Day isn’t so bad after all. Maybe you really did want those chocolates and flowers in the window display. Maybe all it took was for Boo Seungkwan to meddle in your love life even after college for you to realize your life wasn’t so lackluster in love.

You’ve never felt more loved than when Seungkwan showed up at your door on Valentine’s Day, bouquet and chocolates balanced precariously in one hand, only to reveal what his other hand hid behind his back. A convenience store bag containing ramen and wine.

Life, adulting, and Valentine’s Day didn’t seem all too bitter with your own cupid back in it. Maybe, just maybe, you’d recommend the 1-800-Cupid hotline to those looking for some meddling in their love life.

#svthub #svthub.collab #seventeen smut #svt smut #seungkwan smut #boo seungkwan smut

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