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navybrat817 · 1 month

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Hold You Tight: Part 7

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 6 | Series Masterlist | Part 8

Chapter Summary: You meet some of the staff at the club and try to reason with one of Bucky's men about your situation.

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.3k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, tension, mention of stalking, inner conflict, insecurities, manipulation, possessiveness, flirting, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies continue to enjoy. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren't sure exactly how far the club was from the bookstore, but you didn't say anything for a minute after his declaration. You’d read stories about instalove before, the accelerated trajectory of feelings and relationships. It wasn't something you thought you’d ever be on the receiving end of. That mixed with a dark antihero.

How was this your life?

Bucky chose to break the silence. “You can change here if you want.”

Your heart rate spiked as you stared at the garment bag. There was a chance that the dress was to your liking, your style. But in the car, it wasn't like you could shield yourself if you undressed. He’d see you. Maybe even try to touch you. Was it worth the risk?

Reaching for it, you took a deep breath and curled your fingers around the hanger. The moment you grabbed it though, you set it right back on the hook. You wouldn't bother unzipping it to take a look. You weren't a doll for him to play dress up with.

“Sorry, Bucky,” you began, shifting to face him. “I’m sure it’s a nice dress, but I'm not wearing it.”

“You sure?” He asked. “You haven’t even seen it.”

“I don't need to see it. You got your way about me going to the club and I think it's fair I get my way about the outfit,” you said. “We both know I could've met your friends another time. It didn't have to be tonight. So they'll meet me like this or not at all."

His eyes snapped to you, pinning you in place as you froze. Giving him an ultimatum over something he may consider trivial wasn't a smart move and it wouldn't be a hill you'd die on, but you needed some sort of win. Part of him had to understand that.

Bucky's lips curled in a small smile, but you still swallowed nervously. “You look stunning to me just as you are,” he said, tracing the collar of your shirt with his fingertip. "Perfect even.”

“What?” You asked. You were far from stunning. “You're really okay with me going into your club like this? I don't think it meets the dress code.” You were lucky your black dress was nice enough to get in the first time.

“And? I said in the bookstore that you can wear whatever you want since you look beautiful in anything, so of course I’m okay with it,” he said, his finger gliding down the middle of your chest. “If you're worried about anyone saying anything, don't be. You’re my girl and my friends and I will shut anyone up who tries to make you feel less than perfect.”

Your eyes widened at the casualness of the threat. There was no reason to threaten anyone on your behalf. You could also hear Marc's voice in the back of your mind, reminding you that Bucky was dangerous. “Bucky, you don't have to do anything.”

“If someone upsets or hurts you, yes, I do,” he said.

Addison was the type of person who would defend you if you were upset or hurt. You would do the same for her. A boyfriend type defending you was entirely different. He could've just said that to make you lower your guard or play on your insecurities. So why did it still sound like he meant it?

You gripped his wrist before his touch could move further down your body. “What if you upset or hurt me?” You asked.

Bucky blinked at your question, an unfathomable look in his eyes. “I promised I’d never hurt you,” he whispered. You were the only one safe from his underlying rage, weren't you? Because something was lurking beneath the surface that you hadn't yet witnessed. “But I'd do whatever I could to make you happy again if I upset you.”

“You realize dragging me to your club didn't make me happy?”

“I didn't drag you. You got into the car with my help,” he teased. When you didn't smile, he sighed. “I'm sorry. You told me you wanted a quiet night and I pushed you to go anyway. I just got so excited for everyone to finally meet the girl of my dreams and…” He shook his head. “That doesn't matter. I should've listened.”

The apology sounded so sincere it threw you for a loop. If gaslighting was an Olympic sport, he could take the gold. Everything about the man had you second guessing just about everything. “I appreciate that,” you said, going with a safe response.

He smiled as the car rolled to a stop. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, his gloved hand taking yours.

You wouldn’t ask how he planned to do that. “Wait,” you said, pulling him back slightly before he could open the door. “Can we just sit here for a second?” You weren’t ready to go into the club. Maybe you could buy yourself another minute or two.

“You're stalling,” he smiled. You didn’t disagree. “We can't stall for too long. The longer we stay, the more it pushes back the evening and I promised you’d be in bed by 10.”

“I just want to talk for another minute. I still don’t feel like I know much about you.”

“Like what?” He asked.

“Things like your family? You said there was a story about your mom,” you said.

A swirl of emotions passed in his eyes, a range of sorrow to anger and even hope. “There is, but I want to tell you that story when it’s just us,” he said. Just the two of you. Alone together. “I will say though that the original club belonged to her before I turned it into The 107th. It helps keep part of her memory alive for me.”

“That’s a beautiful thing,” you said honestly. She clearly meant the world to him. “And your dad?”

“He deserved what he got,” he said, not an ounce of pity or sorrow in his voice.

“Oh.” There was no lost love there. You wouldn’t linger on the topic since that was likely another story for another time. “Can you tell me why your left hand is always covered? You said I'd never be a mistress, but are you covering up a wedding ring or something?”

The storm raged in his eyes again and you had to keep yourself from shrinking back when he wrapped a hand around your neck. Your heart pounded as he applied a light amount of pressure, but he didn't squeeze any further. Would anyone help you or care if you tried to scream? “Do you feel a ring beneath the leather?”

“No,” you whispered, your eyes shutting when he leaned in.

His breath fanned across your lips. “I told you before that you’re the only one I see,” he whispered. “So when I do wear a ring on that finger, it’ll be on our wedding day.”

You let out something like a whimper when his thumb rubbed along your pulse. While you wanted to stall before, the car now felt too small. Too hot. You wouldn't be able to breathe if you stayed in there much longer. “I think we waited long enough to go inside,” you whispered.

Both of you sighed when he let go of your neck. “I think we did, too,” he agreed, taking your hand again. “But before I forget, you owe me a picture of you since I found you.”

You glared at him since you hoped he’d forget about that, but he only smirked before he helped you out of the car. Parked right in front of the club, you nearly jumped when you saw Raymond standing close by, his gaze flickering between you and his boss. “Hey, Ray,” you said as Bucky pulled you along.

Raymond said your name in reply as he followed close. There were already a few people lined up to get in, but your attention was on the bright sign of The 107th. It welcomed you. Taunted you. You had a feeling you were going to become very familiar with the ins and outs of this place.

“Let’s go, Kotyonok,” Bucky whispered. You hadn't realized you stopped walking until he slipped his arm around your waist and guided you forward.

Bucky nodded to the doorman and walked tall with you beside him. Of course he wasn't nervous. He had no reason to be. This was one of his castles and he was the king. And he chose a peasant to be by his side. A peasant he wanted to make his queen.

The music vibrated through the floor as you went inside and bypassed the coat check. The sound grew louder as you approached the main floor and watched the crowd, all dressed to impres. The lights bathed everyone in red and it felt like you had walked into a sensual version of Hell. And Bucky, the devil of the establishment, tugged you closer by the waist, but he might as well have put a collar around your neck to show everyone that you were his pet.

“Breathe,” he said close to your ear, making it hard to exhale. You were out of your element, the territory somewhat terrifying since you weren't in the company of your friends this time around. At least your legs weren't shaking. “Would you like a drink?” He asked.

“Maybe later,” you replied over the music.

“Then let me introduce you to some of the staff. And don't worry. They know who you are,” he said. Before you could respond to that and ask what exactly they knew about you, he turned you back toward the way you came and waved a couple of men over. Your breath caught in your throat when they approached. Both wore a black top and pants and were as large as Bucky and looked just as dangerous.

“This is Ari,” Bucky said, nodding to the darker haired man who had a scowl on his handsome face. “And this is Jax.” The blonde smirked when you made eye contact with him. “They’re two of my best bouncers and they’ll help keep an eye on you when you're not with me.”

You scooted closer to Bucky on instinct when both of them stared at you, but you didn't lower your gaze. Their looks could never be as penetrating as the man who owned this place. “Keep an eye on me? Are you my babysitters?” You asked. Would they watch your every move, too, and report back to Bucky?

Ari didn't smile, but the scowl softened. Jax, however, chuckled. “Guess you could say that, but we don't mind,” he said, his grin flirty and eyes twinkling as your cheeks warmed. “It's a pleasure to finally meet you, darlin’.”

“Jax,” was the only thing Bucky said, his fingers digging a bit more into your side. Ray gave the bouncer a warning glance, too.

Jax shrugged. “Just being polite,” he smiled. The man likely had people hanging all over him during his shifts with his charm. He probably wouldn't have looked at you twice under normal circumstances, but you smiled back anyway.

“I appreciate the politeness,” you said.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not being polite. You're flirting with my girl,” he said to Jax, your smile falling immediately when the air around you thickened.

“Just being polite,” he said again, not at all bothered by the look his boss gave him.

“Nice to meet you,” Ari cut in, his voice deep and even. People probably hit on him, too. And as domineering as they were, you felt an odd sense of security.

“It’s nice to meet you both. Hopefully you won't have to babysit me too much,” you said, glancing at Bucky. His fingers were still digging into your side, his muscles tense. Was he jealous? “Breathe,” you urged, giving him the same instruction he gave you moments ago.

The bouncers each had a look of surprise on their faces when Bucky listened and slowly exhaled. “Okay. Thank you,” Ray said, gesturing for them to get back to work. “Boss?”

Bucky’s hold on your relaxed a bit. “Let’s introduce you to Hal and then we’ll go to my office,” he said.

“Office?”

“Quieter than the VIP section,” he explained.

You weren't sure if people recognized Bucky or if it was just the aura of power that he gave off, but people moved out of the way without prompting as he led you toward the bar. He smiled as he did so, completely at ease in his domain. “You know, I don't need babysitters,” you told him.

“You need people to look out for you, especially if you’re with me,” he said.

“Because you’re dangerous,” you said. You’d eventually have to find out why. “Once again, you aren't giving me a choice.”

“When it comes to your safety, I can't,” he stated unapologetically. You grit your teeth as he took you to the bar where a couple of bartenders were working. You didn't pay much attention to the guy at the other end since the one right in front of you had no shirt on, his toned torso on full display.

“This is Hal. Our top bartender.”

“Hey!” The bartender flipped his light brown hair back and flashed you a smile almost as bright as his tan. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Again?” You repeated, nodding as your mind flashed back to Addison’s bachelorette party. “That’s right. You gave my friend a shot before we went into the VIP section. You have a great memory.”

“I’m good with faces and you have a very pretty face,” he smiled.

The attention from his staff was dizzying. It wasn't anything you were used to. What was it going to be like when you met everyone else? You felt so lost.

“First Jax, now you,” Bucky muttered. For a split second, you thought he would try to cover your eyes. “Would you put your fucking shirt back on and stop hitting on my girl?”

“Oh, c’mon. I'll put it on after my shift. This is getting me tons of tips already and will only continue through peak time.” Hal winked at you and you tried to smother a laugh. Between Jax and Hal, you wondered if the two of them had a bet going to see who could make their boss snap. If so, they were brave.

“Bucky, I’m not looking at Hal’s abs,” you said.

The bartender snorted when his boss's eye twitched. “Just get back to work,” he grumbled, stepping a couple of feet away from you to speak to Ray.

“You can look. I won't tell,” Hal smiled, leaning on the bar. “Boss man said you’d make an appearance tonight.”

“And here I am,” you smiled, leaving out that it wasn't by choice.

“Is there anything I can get you? Your drinks are always on the house.”

“I’m fine for-” A man in a blue suit elbowed his way in before you could finish. “Excuse me.”

The guy sneered at you as he gave you a once over. “Ugly underdressed bitch,” he said, making you flinch before he snapped his fingers at Hal.

You glanced down at your clothes, your throat tight. You stubbornly refused to wear the dress Bucky got you on principle, but the jerk’s comment was another reminder that you didn’t belong there. What would prompt someone to be so rude?

“Hey!” The guy snapped at Hal again when he didn’t serve him right away.

The bartender smiled, but it didn't look right as he stood back to his full height. Had he heard what the guy said? “You know, it’s not nice to interrupt a lady, John. Maybe you should apologize.”

“Fuck that,” the guy, John apparently, scoffed. He must’ve frequented the place enough if Hal knew the guy's name and you weren't about to cause a scene. A complete stranger shouldn’t make you feel bad anyway.

Hal’s smile disappeared completely. “Do you know who she’s here with?”

“It’s okay, Hal. Thanks,” you said, your burning eyes on the floor as you moved back to Bucky’s side. You didn't want to be there. You didn’t belong there. Why couldn't you just-

“You okay, Kotyonok?” Bucky asked, lifting your chin with a look of concern. “What’s the matter? What happened?”

“Nothing. I’m fine,” you answered, giving him a tight-lipped smile. You just wanted the night to be over. “Can we go to your office, please?”

Bucky intently searched your face, something dark taking over his eyes as your heart raced. “Ray?”

“Boss?”

“Quick change of plans. You take her upstairs and wait outside my office,” he ordered, swiping his thumb along your cheek. “I think Hal and I need to have a quick chat before I join you.”

“Hal didn’t do anything,” you said quickly. He was a sweet guy from what you could tell and he didn’t need to be on the receiving end of Bucky’s anger for something insignificant.

“But someone did,” Bucky guessed, his eyes still dark when you didn’t deny it. “I’ll take care of it,” he promised, ushering you toward Ray.

“Bucky, it’s fine,” you said over your shoulder, but he had already waved Hal over to speak to him.

“This way, please,” Ray said, leading you away from the bar.

Before you knew it, he took you up a flight of stairs and down a corridor, the decor sleeker than the main floor. The closed double doors at the end of the hall you could only assume was Bucky’s office since Ray had you stop just outside of them. You took a breath and leaned against the wall. Though you could feel the beat of the music against your back, it was much quieter. Less crowded. You didn’t feel completely overwhelmed.

“What’s he going to do?”

“Depends on what or who upset you.”

“You’re my girl and my friends and I will shut anyone up who tries to make you feel less than perfect.

You took a moment to look at the bodyguard as he stood against the opposite wall. Stoic. Pristine. “What am I doing here, Ray?” You sighed. This wasn’t your scene. It wasn’t your world.

“Meeting some of the boss’s staff and friends,” he answered.

“That’s not what I meant. I meant… God, I don’t even know what I mean,” you groaned and wondered how long it would be before Bucky joined you. “But I don't belong here.”

“Yes, you do,” he said.

Why in the world would he think that? “How long have you worked for Bucky?” You asked. It wasn’t that you wanted to really talk, but you didn’t want to let your mind race while you waited.

“A few years now,” he replied.

“You’ve seen him date people then. Has he stalked any of his past girlfriends that you’re aware of or am I the unlucky one?” You asked. Bucky told you he tried to go the traditional dating route and that the last woman he saw tried to rob him.

“You’re the only person he has gone to extremes for,” Ray carefully answered.

“Extremes. You mean stalking,” you said. Did that make you feel better or worse that it was just you? “So, you’re fully aware that he stalked me. And that he plans to move me into his place.”

Ray gave you a single nod, though you wouldn’t say he looked proud. “I am.”

“Can you stop him?” Your stomach dropped when he shook his head. “Why not?”

“You can’t stop or delay the inevitable. He wants you and I’m afraid that’s that,” he said.

Incredulity crossed your face. He sounded like Bucky, but this was somehow worse. Did he not see that his inaction helped upheave your life? “Oh, it’s that simple, huh? Bucky wants me, so he gets me? Did you even try to stop him when he began to do ‘research’ on me?”

“No,” he stated. One simple word that held so much weight.

“What the hell?” Fury seared through you as you pushed yourself off the wall. “You didn’t think to step in and at least tell him, I don’t know, that stalking is crazy and wrong and illegal?!”

Ray blinked and pushed his glasses further up his nose. “You think he’d listen to me?”

Your fury didn’t dissipate, but you did step back. “Well. I assumed…”

“That what? That we’re friends? He may respect my opinion from time to time and he may consider me a friend, but he’s my employer first and will not hesitate to remind me of that,” he said, glancing down the hall. “And perhaps it is not my place to say so, but as wrong as it is this is the happiest I've ever seen him. You ground him.”

“So, as long as he’s happy, it doesn’t matter what he does?” You asked, feeling more hopeless by the second. “Why am I bothering? You don’t care.”

There was no reasoning with Bucky nor his men. At this point, you were going around in circles. It was exhausting.

Ray blinked again. “You assume I don't care because I’m not stopping him. His methods are unconventional, sure, but he just wanted your full attention.”

“There are other less creepy ways to get my attention.”

“Are there? You know what we found when we researched you?” He asked rhetorically. “You never go out. You're either home or at work. When you’re at work, you don't give a second glance to any of the men who come in. Where was he supposed to naturally meet you?”

“That doesn't…” Tears stung your eyes, but you refused to weep. Being a homebody shouldn’t be a tool to use against you or used as a means to manipulate you. “I went out with my friends. And he flat out said ‘where’s the fun in that’ when I asked why he didn't just ask me out. Stop making excuses for him.”

It was no wonder Bucky did whatever he wanted unchecked.

“You went out with friends who are all in relationships and aren't interested in meeting anyone. So you didn't go out of your way to meet others which no one is faulting you for. Breaking in was a bit much, but he was desperate and took drastic steps to get to and keep you,” he said. He spoke like it was natural, logical. “You're afraid. I know. But you’re the one in his eyes. If you try to run, we’ll be forced to catch you. Is that really what you want?”

Your hands shook. “I just want normalcy.” Was that so wrong?

“And you wanted someone to love you. So did he,” he said with more gentleness than you expected. “There’s always some madness in love.”

“And between love and madness lies obsession,” you said. That’s what Bucky was to you: obsessed. “Why am I the one? Why is he so desperate to have me?”

The bodyguard considered your question. “Does there have to be one reason? He has no family left. Work and friends can only take so much of the emptiness away,” he said, glancing down the hall again.

You bit your lip. “When you dug into my life, was there something specific that set me apart from anyone else he ever encountered? An incident or anything?”

Bucky convinced himself you were his soulmate, mind, body, heart, and soul. Ray stood across from you and stated he was happy since you were in his life, the happiest he had ever been. But why? Was the man obsessed simply because you were you or was there a piece of the puzzle you were missing?

“That’s not for me to tell, but I can say he’s devoted to you and you only.” He glanced down the hall again before he straightened up. Was there something for Bucky to tell you then? “Be angry with me if you wish, but know that I’m not just looking out for my boss now. I’m looking out for you, too. We all will.”

You heard Bucky’s footsteps as he walked toward you, but your eyes remained on his bodyguard. “Okay,” you whispered. Ray wasn’t going to help you any further. Not tonight.

Bucky stood in front of you, effectively blocking your view of Ray. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”

“I hope Hal isn’t in any sort of trouble,” you said.

Bucky gave you a wolfish smile, energy buzzing around him. “Not at all. In fact, I’m giving him a raise,” he said, slipping his arm back around you. What did the bartender tell him exactly and what did he do in response? “I do want to warn you before we go in, they may stare since they’re not used to meetings like this.”

“What, they’re not used to you having someone on your arm?” You asked. You found that hard to believe.

“They’re not used to me having someone I’d burn the world down for,” he said proudly, nodding for Ray to open the doors. “All you’d have to do is give me the match.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said, gulping when you heard the chatter and laughter inside.

Once again, you were the lamb going into the lion’s den. But you could do this. You just had to mingle a bit longer and then you could go on your way. Bucky swore he’d have you home and you’d hold him to it.

The moment Bucky took you into the office, all conversations ceased. The men appeared relaxed, like they weren't aware of or didn’t care about the aura that surrounded the man beside you. He was right though. They all stared. Including a man with a pair of blue eyes you recognized.

The man who bought tulips from your shop.

“It’s good to see you again,” Steve smiled.

With a sinking heart, you began to accept that there really was no escaping Bucky Barnes.

Sorry to cut this off before meeting the rest of the friends, but it was a natural stopping point. And we'll find out what happens to John in the next part. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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allforhee · 21 days

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— 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐒! (ONESHOT) | LEE HEESEUNG

୨୧ pairing — secretary-general!lee heeseung x delegate!fem!reader

synopsis: decelis high's academic weapon, future valedictorian, model un prodigy especially in the crisis council, and top-notch secretary-general of the mun club, lee heeseung has it all. from earning constant "best delegate-s" left and right, no one dared to go against his stances in any debate. until a student like you transfers into decelis high. as a soon graduating senior, you were a newbie to press. but with your endless love for writing, you'd managed to steal the hearts of your peers. it was your first mun, and you didn't expect much. but when heeseung finds out about an article you've wrote about his arrogant performance in a recent committee session, he is set to strike you down.

୨୧ genre — kinda angsty but with happy ending, high school au, secgen/crisis delegate!heeseung x press delegate!reader, academic rivals to lovers, dumbasses in denial, a brief moment of rivals in public but lovers in secret, one sided rivalry

୨୧ warnings — a lot of model un terms (hope you guys can understand), cursing, hurt no comfort, heeseung highkey hates reader, reader is a bit feisty and could care less but she lowkey has parental issues, featuring all the other enhypen members, aespa's winter aka minjeong, txt's yeonjun and beomgyu, stray kids’ i.n, gidle's shuhua, and ive's wonyoung, one bed trope, forced proximity

୨୧ word count — 13.3k (not proofread, but will slowly edit/make changes to tiny minor mistakes found)

୨୧ author's note — dear readers, i'm back from a long overdue hiatus with a new layout and theme! this fic is long as HELL i didn't expect it to reach this long omg. i also changed up a couple details so it will be quite different from the teaser! i’m so sorry for the long overdue wait, senior year of high school has been so hectic, and i’ve been finally able to finish this so enjoy :) omg holy shit y’all are finally reading my full length fic i’ve been harboring since what? february?

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 had it all.

the walls of his room were littered with delegate lanyards from conferences across the globe, "best delegate" certificates framed all over his house (and a couple crumpled up inside his desk to fit the space), and a collection of trophies stood in every nook and cranny.

no one at decelis high dared to go against his stance. whenever it was, whether it was a moderated caucus or unmoderated, he'd always have his country or character's placard raised high, ready to speak, or leading whatever bloc was being formed.

there was no doubt that no one had ever beat him. it was no doubt that he was decelis high's mun club's secretary-general, and those who chose to go against him either got crushed in fear or knew when to step back.

even with his "best delegate" status, he wouldn't have gone far without his best mates, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, and park sunghoon.

park jongseong or jay, most known for his cold stares in the debate room, ready to make a delegate tremble, would always chair crisis. he was decelis high's deputy secretary-general alongside heeseung. and although being heeseung's best mate, he never favored him when it came to awarding. it's just that he was naturally talented.

sim jaeyun, known for his popular slogan around the school; "jake it till you make it!", was the strongest when it came to knowing what a country or character believed in. his research skills were like a pirate on the hunt for lost treasure, he had all the facts, the data, and the proof to back up any stance. whatever heeseung needed to know, jake already had his back.

and park sunghoon. even though he was the quiet one of the bunch, his position papers never ceased to appeal to any chair. even if he wasn't as strong in speaking out during committee sessions, his fingers were his weapon. the guys would always ask him why'd he chair press and not join in the heat with them, he'd always answer with "my words are stronger than my actions." where jay would always respond with "isn't that the other way around bud?"

the four were unstoppable when it came to model un. lee heeseung was unstoppable. he was. until you came along.

you were quiet at first. everyone just saw you as the new girl who transferred for her senior year. nobody cared. until decelis high's annual mun conference, which happened to take place a couple weeks after the first day of school.

students from all over the country gathered at decelis high once a year to join in on the fun. various councils were presented at decelis mun, from heeseung's favorite council, crisis, and multiple others like unhrc, who, unsc, disec, unicef, and your favorite, press.

without a doubt, you registered yourself for press, opting that you didn't have the guts to join any other council. you feared you'd tremble listening to another delegate question your stances and ideologies.

your parents would always encourage your writing. as a child, you loved to write little imaginary stories about your life as a princess. writing stories about the love you've seen in your parents, you were set to write a book. but when your mom passed away a few weeks before your senior year of high school, and your dad constantly traveling for work, you had resorted yourself to watching the news all summer long, spiking your interest in being a journalist, where all you had to do was report whatever was going on, spit out what had to be said, and done. you didn't need to think long and hard on what your character was supposed to do next to support the storyline, no opinions, no biases.

as you stepped into your assigned council's room, you felt a gush of wind. the nervousness had gotten to you more, seeing all the socially bright journalists with their laptops open and chatting amongst each other happily.

"hi! you're a new face! oh and you're cnn! me and you will be best buddies! bbc here!" a girl squeals, she has a bright smile and a oh-so friendly demeanor. no doubt a popular trait amongst the press council.

"minjeong! don't scare her off. we're so sorry, she sometimes comes off a bit too much to new people. i'm wonyoung, the co-chair for press." she introduces herself.

"oh, hello. i'm y/n. i just transferred to decelis this year. it's my first time at press." you smile. you lost all your socialite cheerfulness over the summer, but meeting minjeong and wonyoung felt like you've been recharged. "oh and i'm the journalist for cnn?"

the girls take a glance at your nametag, examining you, before wonyoung cuts, "first time? don't worry sweetheart, we'll tell you all about it! right hoonie?"

a tall figure walks up to the three of you, no doubt a intimidating face. "y/n right? i'm sunghoon, the chair for press." he asks.

"yes yes this is her! oh we've got to tell her all about press! first timer alert!" wonyoung beams, before entangling her hand with sunghoon's. there was no doubt that the two were a couple.

"ugh, okay you two cut it off! we're journalists, we gotta be professional!" minjeong argues, playfully slapping wonyoung's arm, causing her to let go of sunghoon's.

at first, you had no idea what you were stepping into. but when chair sunghoon welcomed you to press with his icy-blue eyes and quiet demeanor, the other journalists supporting each other when it came to writing their articles, you felt right at home.

it didn't feel like it, but two days of endless debates went on, countries arguing left and right, and articles written on the current hot topic. the tension was surely rising, and your fingers were tired.

you were glad it was all over.

at every post-conference social, before awards were handed out, the articles the journalists from press wrote would be released to the conference for the other delegates to read. besides their usual gossip box, the articles the press wrote were always the fuel to the fire.

one article stuck up to heeseung. it read; "secretary-general heeseung's love for crisis interferes chair jongseong's chairing process, now who's really chairing crisis?"

heeseung swore to himself that he's never seen a girl like you. so quiet yet so powerful in her writing. hearing rumors that you've only just recently transferred to decelis high. even sunghoon himself was surprised to meet a talented journalist like you, a first-timer at press.

"it was her first time?" heeseung protested, "i mean- she's so quiet and reserved, if she had been doing press for years, i wouldn't be surprised. but this is her first time?!"

"what do you mean she's quiet? look at hoon, he never says a word in comses, but look at him chairing press. and i would never mind you tagging along in crisis, you always give out good insights." jay interrupts his thoughts.

heeseung complains, "i understand that, but her innocent face says nothing to what she wrote about me!"

"her articles were critical. they were precise and to the point. there was never a single weak spot in her articles. i think she's gonna make a run for my position." sunghoon defends.

"it's just one article hee, it won't affect your entire track record anyways." jake compliments, giving him a pat on the back.

heeseung believed what jake said was true. he did have an outstanding track record. "best delegate"s here and there, one silly little article wouldn't ruin his entire reputation.

as the clock strikes seven, social night was slowly coming to a close. decelis high's third annual mun was coming to an end. all that was left was to hand out the awards.

heeseung made his secretary-general speech as usual, a couple thank you-s here and there, before he handed it over to the chairs to announce the awards.

as he was walking down the stage, he felt a couple stares from mostly the press council linger. fixing his tie, he shook it off before taking a seat in the front row.

awards were handed, from best position papers, verbal commendations, honorable mentions, most outstanding delegates, and of course, best delegates.

the press council was saved for last. sunghoon asked heeseung if he could be given more time to rethink his options for the awards, and as his best mate, he let him. in reality, sunghoon didn't need time to rethink his options. he and wonyoung knew who was going to win best journalist. sunghoon just wanted to save the best for last.

when heeseung hears sunghoon's announcement for best journalist, it clicks.

"and the press council's best journalist award goes to none other than... l/n y/n!"

cheers could be heard from across the conference room. minjeong practically jumping on you when they heard your name mentioned. you rushed to the stage with a red face and a still shocked reaction, receiving the certificate along with the medal. wonyoung gave you the biggest bear hug known to man, whilst sunghoon gave you a firm handshake.

you felt the cameras flashing at you, taking pictures from what felt like every single angle. unbeknownst to you, heeseung was glaring at you from the front row.

best journalist. best journalist? his mind was running all over the place. how could he? how could sunghoon, his best friend, let such a writer like you, who wrote a devious article about him, win best delegate?

a single glance at the other delegates of the press council only angered him more. amongst them were laughs and snickers. he swore he heard a journalist say; "looks like mister secgen is upseeet!" but decelis mun only happened once a year. he wouldn't have the need to care about you every other day.

or so he thought.

heeseung felt like you were everywhere. at every lunch break, you were always sitting across his and the boys' table, laughing at nonsense with yunjin and wonyoung. during free periods, you'd be at the library, hunched over your laptop or head deep in a book. and at mun club, you just had to be there.

he hated that you were gifted like him. he hated that his friends favored you. he hated that sunghoon would always send you to their rival school's muns to participate in their press councils. he hated that you always won. he hated that you were clouding his mind every single day.

you hadn't but uttered a single "thank you," to lee heeseung. as decelis high's secretary-general, you didn't think he'd care about you. you were just a writer. you had no strength in the debate field, no reason for lee heeseung to care. but why was he being so cold?

it started when you applied for the harvard model congress. you were ecstatic to find out you'd be attending the conference. obviously, you told minjeong and wonyoung all about it. even striking up small talk with sunghoon.

"that's amazing y/n. i mean, harvard model congress? that's big!" his tooth-rotting smile bringing a cheerful mood.

"you went from winning best journalist in schools across the state to varsity level in just a few months!" minjeong squeals, as she hugs you. you were really lucky to have such caring best friends.

laughing along in the mun club room, you could feel heeseung's glare from his desk. headphones on and focused onto his laptop screen, you felt a strange feeling resonating off of him.

heeseung was fuming. the entire club applied for harvard model congress. heeseung got in. his mates did. and of course, you also did.

it was supposed to be a three day long weekend with his mates full of debate, laughter, awards, and getting drunk on social nights. but no. you and your friends would be there too.

heeseung didn't understand why everyone was so trusting of you so easily.

even jay, was friendly with you. "well y/n, i think you're going to make a run for hee's job!"

wonyoung rolls her eyes at jay. "he should be scared. you've rose up through the ranks like jake's receeding hairline."

"hey! my hair is perfectly fine, thank you!" jake cuts, huffing at the ridiculous comment about his hair.

"yo hee! we gotta work out the letter to the school so we can get a few days off. come over here, you look like you're burning holes into your laptop!" jay chuckles, receiving a smack on the arm from jake.

a quick but surprising slam! from heeseung's laptop emitted a low echo throughout the room. followed by a ruffling of him throwing his decelis almameter over his shoulder, and another loud slam! of the mun club room's door. lee heeseung just stormed out.

"oof, what's got into him?" minjeong asks, her face contorting into an anxious look.

"i don't fucking know, he's been at it since decelis' annual mun. throwing temper tantrums left and right." jay sighs, concerned for his best friend.

"well i guess that temper is living up to my article." you suggest, letting out a huff and a subtle eyeroll.

sunghoon takes a deep breath before realization hits. "now that i think of it, he's been at it since you've joined our core team." while he points at you.

"what does that have to do with me? i didn't do shit. all i do is sit, join muns, write, and win awards for us. would he rather i'd be getting verbal commendations instead?" you sigh. you've done nothing but bring pride to decelis high's reputation.

wonyoung laughs, patting you on the back. "it's not about winning verbcom or bestdel, it's about heeseung finally finding his match."

"exactly! he's gone on and on about constantly winning at every mun. he's always complained about needing more of a challenge. and no shit he's been jealous of your achievements." minjeong pipes in.

"that's ridiculous. i don't understand crisis as much as he does, i'm just a journalist on the press council! he's basically just being an ass to me, that's all." you confessed, you and heeseung were basically on different levels. he was secgen and lover of crisis councils, whilst you were just one of the head journalists and co-editors of the press division.

"maybe he likes you? i don't know!" jake squeals, lifting his shoulders in question. jay and sunghoon gives him a slap on the shoulder each, a glaring stare between the three.

"no no, lee heeseung is a cold-hearted son of a bitch with an ego to feed every other day, there's no way he can feel shit." minjeong debates, a hint of anger in her voice.

"woah girl, what's got you mad? i get you two grew up together but that's a lot to say about heeseung." wonyoung asks her.

"i know it's a long story, but y/n deserves to know. right?" minjeong asks, waiting for you to nod to continue. "every single day of my life, i was my parents' star girl. i love my parents for supporting me. but ever since heeseung moved in next door, i was demoted from best girl in the neighborhood to second best to heeseung. ever since we were eight, heeseung didn't like to lose. to a boy he'd be a good sport. but when he lost to me in a mere storytelling competition, he'd throw a tantrum. that's heeseung to me. he's nothing but an egotistical ass who has to win everything."

you sigh, hearing minjeong’s words. "and you know what y/n?" she continues, "he's never lost it since we were 13. and you, y/n, have officially made him lose his mind. again."

this year's harvard model congress was held at seoul national university, the dream university of many korean students. the seven of you stayed at a hotel nearby, settling in.

sunghoon picks up the keycards at the check-in counter, "okay so there's three rooms in total, the girls are sharing, me and jake are in one room, which leaves heeseung and jay—"

"i'm sorry sir," the hotel staff interrupts him, "but the rooms are already divided by the hotel and cannot be changed. it says here, room 745 is for miss kim and miss yang, room 746 is for mister park, mister sim, and the other mister park— mister jongseong, and room 777 is for—"

"great. thank you. alright, let's settle in and get ready for opening night." heeseung sighs, grabbing his suitcase and your shared room's keycards before heading to the elevators. you gave the rest of the group a shaky smile before following heeseung.

the moment you two entered the lift, and as heeseung tapped the keycard and pressing the button for the seventh floor, you could feel the tension.

as the lift begins to move upwards, heeseung lets out a sigh. "look, l/n. we're sharing a room by casuality, so don't make it a big deal."

you huff shakily, "a big deal? you're the one who's been avoiding me all year! i barely disturb you and all i do is win awards for decelis. what else do you want from me?" your voice slowly getting angrier.

as heeseung opens his mouth to answer, the lift comes to a halt as its doors open, signaling that they've reached the seventh floor.

heeseung holds the lift doors open, so you can exit it with ease. you were surprised with this gesture. coming from him who could care less about your presence, you were baffled.

as you both reach at your hotel room, heeseung gave you one of the three keycards given before tapping his at the hotel room's door.

and as if your romance stories came to life, you spotted an oh-so familiar trope sitting in the middle of your hotel room. there was only one king-sized bed.

"shut the front door." you sighed, looking at the clear situation in front of you.

heeseung entered behind you, "i clearly have, what are you talking abou—"

"no dumbass, it was a metaphor. i'm talking about this." you exclaimed, pointing your finger at the bed.

"great. i'll call up room service and get this sorted—"

"no it's fine, it'll be too much of a hassle and social night is in two hours. besides, we're civil adults, and we're here for only two nights. we can bear 72 hours living through this stupid one bed trope."

"fine. just so you know i'm taking the left side."

heeseung dropped his bag near his side, as he was trying his best to keep his composure. sharing a room with you was bad enough (that's what he keeps telling himself), but a bed as well? he'd rather win verbal commendation than share a bed with you.

you were unpacking your necessities before you decided to break the ice. "heeseung just so you know—"

but before you could finish, heeseung was already out the door. before the door closed, you could hear a mere; "i'll go down for social night. you do you." and a click! of the door.

you scanned the room that was once filled with such tension, spotting your room keycard on the bedside table.

you took off your sweater and switched to something a bit classier for social night, changing to a blood red dress you had packed to match harvard's colors. minjeong and wonyoung had helped you choose it a couple days prior, the conversation reappearing in your mind.

"harvard's got nothing on you with that dress! watch out best journalist!" minjeong hypes you up as you're trying it on in the changing room.

"are you sure it's not a bit too much?" you questioned, feeling insecure in the dress.

"too much? my guess is heeseung would drop dead seeing you in that dress. after all, he is in love with you." wonyoung giggles, which earns her a slap on her arm from winter.

"just own it y/n. maybe layer it with a leather jacket if you get cold?" minjeong suggests. you look at yourself in the mirror once more. maybe this would be the turning point between you and heeseung's rivalry. maybe he'd look at you and decide that he no longer hated you and instead loved y— no. enough of those thoughts.

as you touched up your makeup from earlier this morning, you headed out to find wonyoung and minjeong waiting at the lobby.

"there you are— oh that dress looks, damn!" minjeong exclaims, covering her mouth with her hand to hide the utter shock.

"i just know heeseung's going to gape at that dre—" before wonyoung could finish her sentence, she earns a smack on her arm from minjeong. "ow minie! i don't want my arm to be black and blue at social night! which starts in... thirty minutes. we should get to campus and fill in our registrations so we're set."

opening night was a blast. harvard model congress knew how to throw a goddamn banger of a opening night.

there were so many things to see. a karaoke booth, a photobooth station, a merch station, even a snack booth filled to the brim with various snacks and drinks.

after receiving your lanyards and a couple papers where you'd find your assigned councils for the next day, you, wonyoung, and minjeong, were set to let lose one last time before you were head deep into your laptops, writing articles for the next three days.

entering the room littered with decorations and other delegates, you and the girls entered the ballroom hand in hand, in awe with the decor.

wonyoung spotted the boys immediately, already saving a table for the seven of you. the three of you walked to the table, which had name plates for all your names. wonyoung next to sunghoon, jay next to jake, minjeong on your right next to you, and heeseung on your left.

sitting at the assigned seats and listening to the opening remarks by harvard model congress' secretary-general, the food was served and you all dug in.

although this was only the first of two social nights, you and the girls had to make the best of it. from abusing the “free photobooths!” booth, and filling the room with echoes of musical ballads, your first night at harvard model congress was deemed memorable.

before you knew it, you were dragged to the back of the room, as wonyoung pulled out a small paper bag—which turns out to hold a couple bottles of liquor, you grabbed your glasses and started pouring.

you could see out of the corner of your eye—the girls downing shots of tequila (in secret, cause you didn't want to get caught), and the guys coming along to take a shot or two. but heeseung looked, tense.

jake slapped him on the back, giggling, “come on man, loosen up a bit! mun isn’t all about the awards and the roles, it’s about the memories!”

“and the friends we make along the way, am i right?” jay chimed in, with a teasing tone.

before you knew it, heeseung grabbed an entire bottle and downed what was equivalent to maybe 4 shots, wonyoung squealed, arguing the fact that it was a very expensive bottle of liquor.

“dude! that’s from my dad’s cabinet, it’s at least 500.000 won!” she argued, grabbing the bottle out of his hands.

as you tried to ignore his gaze, minjeong gave you your first shot—which you downed immediately, but it only made you feel like heeseung’s gaze was burning holes into you more.

heeseung sighed, “give me another one.” holding his hand out for someone to pour him a shot. “come on, i don’t got all day.” before sunghoon poured him another shot—which he downed immediately.

you hated the feeling of his stare. it felt, uncomfortable, but you liked it? the more he stared, the more you downed more shots. before you knew it, opening night came to a close, and you were stumbling your way down the hallway with wonyoung and minjeong, before finally finding your room. and in your drunken state, you passed out.

burning pain. your eyes couldn’t handle the bright light emitting from what seemed to be all around you. as you open your eyes, head spinning, you flopped back down onto your bed, exhausted, and with the hotel room ac, you felt frozen.

but as you get comfortable onto the bed once more, you feel a sense of warmth engulf your body. it felt welcoming. comfortable. maybe a bit too comfortable for your sake. but the warmth was soothing. it was, moving?

you shot back out of the bed, trying to rub your eyes to focus back onto the warmth, but that warmth pulled you back into its embrace. as if it needed you to survive.

as you try to recollect the events of last night, your usual 7am alarm rung. what a great way to ruin the moment.

a groan echoed from that warmth you once clung to, a familiar sound, a familiar… voice?

“l/n, what time is it?” it asked.

fuck.

"chill y/n, you'll be fine." you whisper to yourself, walking to your assigned council's room. from the rest of the journalists in your gang, you had been assigned to report on different councils. while wonyoung and winter were assigned to report on the ASEAN council, sunghoon to report on the UNHRC council, you were unfortunately assigned to the crisis council. just to your luck. your mind was still stuck in what happened this morning. you met your chairs, shuhua and beomgyu, role call was held, and your first committee session began.

while you were typing away a starting paragraph for an article, a bright face comes to greet you. "oh hello, l/n y/n right? i'm jungwon, the journalist for KBS! i sit right next to you in our council room."

"oh hello! i'm y/n, reporting for the new york times, it's nice to meet you." you smile, offering a hand out for him to shake, which he accepts.

"so, you got assigned to crisis too huh?" jungwon asks as you nod, "honestly it's one of the worse councils to report on because everything is moving... too fast." he sighs.

"i don't mind the speed, it gives me inspiration to write. but everyone has their capacities right?" you try to reason, whilst jungwon gives an agreeing nod.

not long after some small talk before you could enter crisis' council room, another boy tags along. his bright smile clearly infectious as you and jungwon couldn't help but smile at his bright appearance.

"annyeong! nice to meet you i'm sunoo!" he smiles, his blonde hair reflecting the lights in the room.

you shake his hand as a boy with blonde hair and black streaks tags along behind him before slapping the blonde’s arm, "i'm nishimura riki, you can call me riki. can’t believe i flew all the way from tokyo for this."

“yah! your writing is fine riki, your good shots will steal the show.” sunoo assures him, before looking back at you, and smiling.

riki sighs, before turning on his camera “i wanna get the redhead over there, heard he’s super good at mun or something..”

you blink as you realize riki was talking about none other than—heeseung.

"oh him? yeah he's my secgen." you tell him, the sentence floating out of your mouth. jungwon and sunoo turn to you with gaping mouths.

"wait- what? he's YOUR secgen? THE lee heeseung?" jungwon exclaims.

you furrow your eyebrows, "um, yeah? what's the big deal about him?"

sunoo's face lights up, as he prepares his words. "girl, he's the most highest ranking student in the high school mun circuit! his countless awards and times he's chaired makes him a legend. he's a literal model un weapon, even delegates with the veto powers are scared of him." he explains.

as you open your mouth to respond to his comment about heeseung, one of the chairs of the crisis council exits the room to greet you.

"ah hello journalists, you're here. i'm yeonjun, the head chair for crisis. we currently have unmod going on right now so you're just in time. we'll give you guys a couple opportunities to interview the delegates, but please be mindful." he explains.

you and the three boys smile back at him, before he opens the council room door and lets you in.

"delegates! i'd like to introduce to you all the journalists from the international press institute council, who will be observing our committee session. we have yang jungwon from KBS, kim sunoo from associated press, nishimura riki from NHK, and y/n l/n from the new york times. please treat them with the upmost respect.

a couple delegates say their greetings, and even explaining the current debate going on, as the four of you smile back at them. the crisis council was a popular council, and you can tell that from the amount of delegates in the room.

as you return your laptop back into your messenger bag and pulling out a notepad, a pen, and some sticky notes, you look back up only to lock eyes with heeseung. his gaze was deadly. you give him a slight smile, which he responds with an eyeroll.

the only thing you hated about being a journalist was the interviews. you needed to research, but having to interact with people you don't know? you'd rather kill yourself. it just happened that heeseung's stance was interesting enough for you to pass a post-it note to him, which he threw away.

so you were surprised to see him walk towards you during break, as you had thought he had rejected your interview offer.

"l/n, you wanted to interview me?" he'd asked you, no bad tone in his voice.

you looked at him surprised, kinda shocked, "umm, yeah? are you okay with that."

"i'm good. just, make it quick."

you open your notes to find your question you wanted to ask him, "um, do you mind if i record?" you asked, which he nodded. "okay, so as the delegate of colombia, what steps would you take to face the ongoing drug trade happening in your country? as a journalist, we have not seen you speak up much lately, so i'd like to know your thoughts."

"um, thank you for the interesting question, well i think—"

it was unlike him to treat you like this. unlikely for him to keep his cool. as you try to remember the words he was saying as you hold out your phone to record him, nothing was catching on. it was as if words went in one ear and out the other.

he was so professional. the way he walks, and the way he talks—the way his lips move when he talks, the way he explains his stance—the way he’s saying the words—the way his lips move to pronounce it, oh and the way he-

“l/n? are you done? i’m wasting my precious break time here.” heeseung asks you, breaking you out of that trance.

you compose yourself, hitting the stop button on the voice recorder app, “oh yeah, sorry, i was thinking of another question to ask you—got carried away…”

heeseung rolls his eyes at you, before thanking you and scurrying away.

what had gotten into you? you’ve never seen heeseung in that way before. he’s always been just a secretary-general to you. who also happens to hate you. you think.

but as the unmoderated caucus comes to a close, you return back to your council room, ready to write an article on heeseung’s stance. after all, you still had a day’s left worth of committee sessions, as well as a press conference held at the crisis council.

the press council room was chiming with the clicks and clacks of keyboards, journalists writing articles left and right. you were in the middle of writing once again another filler article, as you had no idea what to write for your mandatory article. as you look through your gallery, observing pictures you took earlier for your articles, you can't help but notice heeseung in his element.

as you're typing a possible title for your mandatory article, you hear from beside you, "hey, what's going on with you and heeseung?" sunoo asks, as you turn to him in shock, as you were in the middle of writing an article.

you laughed nervously, "what? nothing's going on between us. he practically hates me." you sigh.

jungwon pulls his chair over to you, placing his laptop on your table in the process, "i don't think so. not from what i saw last night."

you gasped at what he said, "and what i saw this morning! i could practically feel the tension emitting off the two of you as you were interviewing him. i've never seen a man so intrigued before." riki chimes in.

"this morning? nothing happened, i was interviewing him on his stances and whatsoever for a possible article! that's all to it!" you defend yourself, trying to get back into your article.

"y/nie, sweetie, i've seen way too many kdramas to tell that the way he's looking at you, is a look of love~" sunoo teases, smiling as if he knew something more.

jungwon and riki laughes at your expression, which seemed to resemble a disgusting look, but underneath that, you felt a sting in your heart. not a bad sting, a good sting.

"but hey you two seemed pretty cozy last night, i wonder what that was for?" jungwon asked.

riki gasps, "hey i took a picture! wait let me find it..." as he pulled out his camera, going through the camera roll. "here! you guys were dancing together a lot, and he basically was carrying you back to your room. what, did you guys get drunk or something?"

you choked on your water, as the events of last night start piecing together. "i remember taking a couple shots, he did too, but all i remember after that is falling asleep on my bed... i assumed my friends helped me to get back but now that i think of it... they were pretty drunk too."

taking another closer look at the pictures riki happened to capture, you saw two beaming smiles, and from the looks of it, it looked like you two were having fun. you've never seen him smile this much, let alone around you. the other picture resembled like a married couple. it was as if heeseung was trying to pick you up, but by the looks of your drunken states, it wasn't really working.

"wouldn't it be really funny if you guys accidentally fucked or something? that would explain the tension!" jungwon jokes.

you shake your head, before putting your face in your hands, "no way, not in a million years. our tension is, well, our tension! it's what happens normally!" you try to defend.

"no you're right won, they totally fucked. i mean the floor you guys are on? most of the rooms have king or queen sized beds. what would you guys be doing other than that? snuggling into each other till the sunrise?" riki assumes, scoffing afterwards.

your eyes widened in shock, as if jungwon cut your brain opened and took out the events of what happened this morning. you put your head in your hands once more before beginning to cry.

riki saw your reaction, "hey i didn't mean it that way! i mean it's- um... great? if you fucked? but if not then that's like, totally okay! i mean sex isn't for everyone—"

sunoo cut him off, shooing him away, "stop making it worse, ki-yah! y/nie? will you tell us what happened?"

you sniffed, not knowing why you suddenly burst into tears, maybe it was the frustration? you grabbed a tissue to compose yourself, "i don't know... all i remember is i woke up this morning, in his arms, and i just jumped out and got ready. we didn't even talk about it. all of a sudden he's back to his old self and he's being mean to me again."

you take a deep breath, sunoo rubbing you on the back, trying to calm you down. "he's been like this ever since i transferred. i was just the new girl who was a press prodigy, that's what they called me back at decelis, and i don't know, he's hated me every since. no reason whatsoever. i've tried to win his attention by winning muns and stuff but, it doesn't matter. he looks at me as if i disappoint him."

jungwon and riki both comfort you as well, before jungwon has a strike of realization. "you know, it's not that i wanna stir up delusion in your mind, but it's quite common for guys to hate someone because they like them. what if he has a crush on you?"

riki realizes as well, "yeah what if? what if all this time he's been trying so hard to hate you because he actually likes you?"

hearing the words likes you come out of their mouths makes you shudder in fear. no way he likes you. right?

before you knew it, your chair returns to announce that press conferences are due to start soon. and up first? was the crisis council.

stepping foot into the crisis room, with the information in mind, you start to notice the tiny little characteristics that match with the fact. the fact that the lee heeseung might as well have a crush on you. as you, sunoo, and two other journalists were guided to the front of the room, your chair explaining to the crisis delegates how the press conference was going to work, before giving the floor to the journalists.

you keep your head hung, distracting yourself by re-reading the questions you’ve written on your notepad, peeking through your hair, trying to take a glimpse of heeseung.

heeseung was in his element as always, head deep in his laptop, a couple volunteers passing by to give him a post-it note, filled with scribbles of other delegates wishing to be on his side. but as per usual, his critical self crumples the notes and puts it aside to his pile of other crumpled notes.

sunoo, on your left, nudges you in the arm, trying to snap you out of it. the moment you lift your head to look at the delegates and compose yourself, you catch heeseung looking at you.

with your bloodshot eyes, your usual smile fading, heeseung can’t help but notice what happened. you were fine last break. your eyes which used to be sparkling with curiosity had been traded for puffy eyes and a fake smile.

he wanted to come up to you, wanted to ask what’s wrong. but as your chair introduced the journalists, he’d wonder if it was just an impulsive thought.

each journalist had to share 10 minutes worth of press conference time to ask questions, a tight amount of time. as the journalist on your far left begins, the clock begins to tick. being the last journalist to ask, you begin to feel worried.

but as the mic is passed to you, and mere two minutes left on the clock, you scramble to compose yourself and your questions. “this journalist would like to open the question to the floor, with the excessive drug trade impacting the economy of your countries, what is an effective solution you’d have to decrease the drug circulation, but at the same time, would not damage your economy?”

placards were raised, and amongst them, were heeseung’s. you could see the colombian flag on his placard raised high, but as the journalist of the new york times, your work came first. therefore, you chose someone else. “yes, delegate of the united states?”

the delegate of the united states stood up, and you finally saw the name on his nametag. yang jeongin. he smirked at you, sending a wink. “thank you madam journalist for the intriguing question, as the drug trade across our country begins to increase…”

as you held your hand forward holding your phone out to record his answer, continuing to talk for the next minute. it felt like a lifetime. but in the corner of your eye, you could feel his gaze burning holes. heeseung held his placard high, glaring dead straight at jeongin even if he was still speaking. but as you thank jeongin for his answer, you open the question once more to the floor.

you hear a screech of the chair as heeseung, the only one holding his placard up, stands up to answer. but you don’t discern anything he says. you just stare at him. before you knew it, the clock rang, signaling that time was up.

sunoo nudged your arm once more, trying to snap you out of it. “you okay?” he asked, worry written all over his face. you nodded to tell him you were okay.

as you were escorted out of the room to head to the hotel restaurant for lunch break, you couldn't help but feel the same feeling of heeseung's gaze at the back of your head. you ignored him, walking out with sunoo by your side.

but you were stopped briefly by someone, none other than the delegate of the united states. "hey, that was a very interesting question you asked earlier at press conference. i was wondering if you need my insight on anything? given as i'm usa and you're the new york times." jeongin suggests, his usual smirk returning from before. sunoo winked at you, before leaving the two of you alone in the hallway.

you blink at him, "oh! yeah, i was thinking about gaining insight from, well our country's side of the story. so what can you tell me?"

your notepad flips open along the click of your pen, ready to jot down his words, before out of the corner of your eye, that sharp gaze returns. the burning stare heeseung emitted was back. you gulped and let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. "hey, um jeongin? could we find somewhere a bit more quiet so i can record the interview? i need to make sure everything is clear because i need to submit the questions to my chairs."

jeongin smiled, "of course sweetheart, i know just the place." before he took your hand and led you away. unbeknownst to you, heeseung was fuming.

as the two of you walked away, heeseung couldn't help but wonder. what's so great about yang jeongin anyways? compared to himself, his track record was not all that. yeah he may have won most outstanding or honorable mention a couple times, but never best delegate. consecutively.

heeseung felt a tap on his shoulder, before briefly turning around. jay was standing there with a cup of coffee. he grabbed it out of his hands before immediately drinking out of it.

"that's! hot coffee..." jay protested. but to heeseung, his rage burned hotter. "what's got your panties in a twist?" jay asked, sipping his own cup of coffee.

"nothing, just pissed at a delegate. per usual." heeseung lied. as the two begun to make their way to restaurant to eat lunch.

jay chuckled, seeing his pissed face, "dude, i've known you for over eight years, you don't get pissed at a delegate for no reason. this is harvard model congress for god's sake, everyone here? they're basically professionals. mun legends. i wouldn't have afford this shit if i wasn't good at it. the awards and prizes helped fund this hobby."

heeseung sighed, "it's not just a delegate. it's someone else."

"it's y/n, isn't it?" heeseung snapped his head to glare at jay, as if he grew three heads. "chill dude, i can tell. you're painfully in love with her."

"no no no, you don't get it, she's a menace to my track record. do you remember back at decelis mun before she transferred? her article basically ruined my record the next five muns? i basically had to avoid chairing so the rumors wouldn't be deemed true." heeseung argued, reminiscing the times.

"but you'd argue she's a damn good writer, isn't she?" jay defended, "i mean no one from decelis has won consecutively aside from you. and she comes in to make the decelis name proud. aren't you glad? you're secgen after all. you're just in denial."

heeseung sighed, looking at his cup of coffee, once full, now empty. "i'm not in denial! i'm just stressed with a couple delegates in committee session, unmoderated caucus was, stressful."

entering the restaurant, their eyes landed to the corner booth, where you sat face to face with jeongin. jay turned his head to look at heeseung staring deadset at the two. "well, whatever floats your boat man, i'm gonna get some lunch. unsc might as well go to crisis next comses." jay pats him on the back, joining sunghoon, jake, wonyoung, and minjeong.

heeseung stood still. he couldn't help but wonder. is this what love feels like?

"so, yang jeongin, what can you tell me about the united states' stance on the current illegal drug trade? i assume that the country is fully aware of it happening?" you ask, pressing record on your voicenotes app.

jeongin looked around, before reaching over and pressing the stop recording button on your phone. before you could protest, "okay cut the crap, what's going on between you and lee heeseung?"

you looked at him strangely, not expecting the sudden confrontation. "well, nothing? i don't know what you want me to say, this isn't part of the interview."

jeongin dug into his food, "screw that shit, i wanna know why your secgen is all on my ass. i mean i looked at you once at comses earlier, and he looked at me like i lit an orphanage on fire."

you almost choked on your pasta, "what the hell, dude. he's just like that. he hates my guts so much he has to make me feel uncomfortable everywhere i go. i literally bring home decelis as many awards as he has in the past two years. i don't get him."

"nah, i don't think that's hate. he looked at me as if he was clyde and i was trying to steal away his bonnie. that's a look of love."

you sighed, "the thing is jeongin, he doesn't care. i've done everything to pique his attention, best journalist awards left and right, i was supposed to run for deputy secgen but he didn't let me. he said i wasn't a true decelis muner yet. i mean 8 muns in the span of a couple months? and i've never lost a single one? he probably hates me because i chose the lamest council."

jeongin swallows his food before he comes to realization, "hey weren't you the journalist who wrote on heeseung back at decelis' mun? i remember felix-hyung, my friend, that he went feral over it. he was chairing unicef, and in the chairs' room, he overheard heeseung talking about your article. how it was going to ruin his track record, or something."

"i mean, i do remember briefly. wonyoung, my chair, said i was allowed to write about the chairs or staff, even if they were filler articles. i wrote about heeseung and jay out of interest, i didn't know their history." you confessed, feeling quite bad about the outcome. "i didn't want my article to end up being gossip or shit talk, i just wrote what i wanted to."

"freedom of the press, am i right?" jeongin laughed, "speaking of the devil." signaling heeseung heading towards your table.

heeseung stood at your table. "yang. l/n." before scooting next to jeongin's side of the booth. you couldn't help but move your eyes between the two. after what sunoo and the boys told you earlier, and jeongin's confirmation that basically people could tell, you sit there in silence.

heeseung clears his throat, "well i'm not seeing much interviewing going on, delegates."

you scoffed at him, "it's none of your business heeseung. we're all delegates, it's lunch break. you don't have to boss around all the time."

"our decelis guidebook strictly confers to not confide in the enemy. and here you are, with the enemy. you know if you spill precious information regarding us we'd be dead?" he scolded you.

a laugh escaped your throat, "the enemy? jeongin is far from the enemy to me. matter of fact, heeseung, you've been more of an enemy to me rather than a secgen."

jeongin whispered, "keep it down y/n, it's okay."

you stood up in anger, "no it's not okay! i've been trying my hardest to do everything i can, i've won consecutively since my first mun at decelis, i've done everything you ask for. i've done nothing but make the decelis name proud, but i just can't happen to make you proud. what do i have to do next? i do everything and all i do is fall at second best. if you hate me so much then kick me off the goddamn team! wouldn't want me tarnishing your precious track record by having a traitor on the team, would you? all this over a stupid article i wrote months ago." you walk away from the table, returning to your room.

heeseung was speechless, the rest of the room was in awe, normally delegates would be able to stay professional. even if there was a break up or something. even wonyoung and minjeong looked at heeseung in anger, meanwhile jake, jay, and sunghoon looked at him in disappointment. jeongin stood up and left the booth, avoiding any more anger out of heeseung. "if i were you, i'd apologize. that girl has done nothing but try to please you and make you proud. start there." jeongin added before leaving.

out of habit, heeseung hung his head low in embarrassment. this was worse than the time you wrote that article about him. as he stood up to confide in the boys for advice, he spots a small leather notepad in the corner of the booth. it was yours. he'd have to find you, face you and give it back. it wouldn't hurt to read a bit of what's inside, right?

running back to your room, you couldn't dare return till next comses. the fact that an entire room full of delegates and chairs had heard you scream at heeseung's face. and returning back to the bed you woke up from this morning, limbs tangled with heeseung, didn't really help.

hiding your face in your bedsheets, tears flowing freely, you couldn't help but smell the familiar cologne he had left behind. the smell stung your nose, and made your eyes water more. the scent that once plagued you, now had lulled you to sleep.

a blurry facade appeared, the sound of heavy noise music remained muffled. your feet were cold on the hotel floor, destination? room 777. you were swaying side to side, but thankfully you were able to hold on to a pillar, which was moving with you.

"we shouldn't have drunk this much, right l/n? i'm not even sure i'm prepped for comses tomorrow morning." the pillar said.

"you have it easy, lee. you don't have to write 4 pieces worth of mandatory articles and observe other council's committee sessions." you replied, a clear slur in your voice.

it, who turned out to be heeseung, laughed, and it was like music to your ears. "i thought you journalists just copy-pasted shit off google or something, didn't get why you'd have to sit in the back of council rooms."

you scoffed at him, "well, as secretary-general, you should've known better. if only you noticed what i've been doing all this time to get your attention, maybe you would've understood."

"you think i haven't been paying attention? i've had my eyes on you ever since you wrote that silly article about me back at decelis mun. 'who's really chairing crisis?' you do know me and jay have been friends since primary, right?" he argued.

"that i know know, lee. the fact that you caused all the fuss over an article that was purely for mun, and had no ill intention is just stupid. i just wanted to be able to express myself." you confessed, feeling underestimated.

he sighed, pressing the up button on the lift, "it's not that i fussed over an article, it's that you wrote about me. i don't see many people brave enough to write about a secretary-general." before he could continue, the doors to the lift dinged and opened, allowing the two of you to walk in.

"i mean," he stuttered, clicking the number seven on the lift's buttons, "you amazed me. i've never met a person who could express themselves so much through their writing. no one paid attention to me enough to write such a critical piece about me."

you smiled at him, "so i'm special? i was the first to write about you, right?" he chuckled at your cheeky comment, "yes you're a first. i wouldn't mind if you kept writing about me."

"but why'd you hate me? i've done so much for decelis to make you proud, but you still have a way to butcher me. i just wanted to impress you." you'd sighed into his chest, the world beginning to spin.

luckily, heeseung had caught you before you fell, right on time as the lift reached the seventh floor. he basically carried you out, trying not to drop you.

"if i hated you so much, i wouldn't be helping you get back to our room, nor would i be making sure you get back safely." he assured you, holding you in his arms.

you groaned in protest, "but you do, don't you? i'm never enough for you, after everything i've done. all the things i did—"

you were shut up by his lips on yours. out of the blue, with no warning signs, he had kissed you. out of habit you kissed him back, lips molding against each other as if you had been waiting for years, as if you couldn't live without each other. all hatred you held against him dissipated. your arms crawling towards the back of his neck to pull him closer, his own pulling on your waist.

he pulled away to take a breath, but you couldn't breathe. he was your oxygen. you connected the two of you together, chasing his lips, his touch, his presence. it was the sweetness, the flavor of love and lust hanging. you’ve been craving his attention, hell, even his touch for months.

but your lungs craved oxygen, forcing you to pull away, hiding your face in his chest. as you were taking in the moment, he chuckled, "i wouldn't have done that if i hated you, would i?"

waking up with a jolt, the memories of last night came rushing in. you thanked yourself that the two of you hadn't fucked, but the idea of kissing him and liking it gave yourself insight. you wondered if heeseung remembered too.

opening your phone and seeing the time, you rushed out of your room as you were late to your next editorial meeting. it being the last committee session of the day, all you had to do was submit your mandatory articles of the day, and you'd be done. running back to your council room, knocking slightly on the door, you rushed back to your seat.

"journalist, you're late. why is that?" shuhua asked, beomgyu beside her, taking notes.

you sat down and composed yourself, "i'm sorry chairs, i slept in during break. it won't happen again."

the chairs nodded at you, letting it pass. the room discussed about how press conferences was, reminding the journalists of the upcoming deadline, but your mind was in the gutter.

you touch your lips, and you feel the lingering taste on your tongue. you were shocked out of your trance with the knocks of the chairs' gavel hitting the sound block. with only an hour left to finish your mandatory article, you begin to type.

social night was an mun tradition. after a full day of committee sessions, all councils, no matter what their council was, it gave a chance for all the delegates to mingle amongst each other.

free from the deadline of your first mandatory article, you had the whole night to party it out before tomorrow, where you had to finish your final mandatory article.

social nights usually had themes, and tonight, harvard model congress' was inspired by bridgerton, along with masquerade masks were in array. you had packed a a black dress, which belonged to your mother. she’d always tell you to save it for a special occasion, a moment you wouldn’t want to forget. and for tonight, as you miss your mom's touch, you wear your dress with pride.

walking to the venue, and right before you could even enter, you’re immediately greeted by wonyoung and minjeong. "oh my god sweets are you okay?" wonyoung asked, holding your face, clear worry in her eyes. "we heard and saw what happened at lunch, good for you to finally confront the bitch." minjeong commented, which earned her, once again, another slap on the arm by wonyoung.

you nodded at the two, holding their hands, "i'm fine, don't worry. i just needed to get it out of my system, that's all."

"to think of it, i haven't seen him since. normally when you pass by the crisis room, you'd hear his voice bouncing off the walls..." wonyoung confessed, "that's very unlike of him."

minjeong scoffs at her comment, "who cares? he's been downplaying y/n's achievements for the past couple months, i wouldn't be able to stay quiet if i were you."

you sighed at the two bickering in front of you, "guys, i just want tonight to be about us. this is harvard model congress for god's sake, i want to make the best out of it. so can we stop the heeseung talk and have some fun? please?"

the two nodded at your request, not pestering you any further. you all walk into the venue, being handed masquerade masks. the venue was decorated to the nines, and it felt like a ball straight out of bridgerton. the three of you were guided to your delegation table, which seated you, the girls, jake, and sunghoon. but heeseung? he was no where to be found.

"where's heeseung? it's not like him to miss out on social night." jake asked you.

you sat down on your assigned seat, and the seat on your right, which was supposed to occupy heeseung, was cold and empty. "why are you asking me? he hates me, remember?"

jake shrugged, "i don't know, i just reckoned that since the two of you are sharing a room, you'd know where he is."

minjeong scoffs, "who cares? y/n got ready at me and wony's room anyways, so no, we don't know where he is."

"jay said earlier today that he's been looking for him. wonder where he went. and if he found him..." sunghoon tells the table, sipping on his glass of water.

stuck in your trance, you were snapped out of it by a screeching of a chair, one, being jay, and the other was right next to you. heeseung. he was in his usual suit and tie, a couple buttons on the top were unbuttoned. you glanced at his tired eyes, hidden underneath the masquerade mask.

"dude? where've you been?" jake asked jay, slapping him on the shoulder.

jay sighed and drank a gulp of his water, "looking for this asshole over here." while pointing at heeseung, "took me a while to find him literally on the rooftop. i swear seoul uni has the most crazy hideouts. i'm not even sure i can even find my way back."

"how'd you find your way there anyways?" sunghoon asked heeseung.

he sighed, "don't know. just, found it." his demeanor slipping away as you begin to see the raw brokenness. you didn't hurt his ego that much, right?

as the clock struck seven, waiters all around the room began laying out the meals. you took a glimpse of the dinner courses in front of you, not really having an appetite for anything. but you still tried to eat, tried not to waste your food, tried to seem okay in front of him.

heeseung, on the other hand, was trying his best not to combust. sitting next to you was hard enough, but the fact you were wearing such a beautiful dress had him awestruck. he also lost his appetite. he couldn't help but stare at you.

after dinner, your friends stood up and ran over to the dance floor, and you were unfortunately dragged along. a remix of many famous hits were played, before you sang your hearts out to iris, by the goo goo dolls. you felt someone tap you on your shoulder, which to your surprise you see jeongin.

"could i have this dance?" he asked, hand out for you to grab, iris still playing in the background.

you nodded and grabbed his hand before you two danced foolishly to iris, heels discarded, his suit as well, just dancing your hearts out. but you had your limits, you were tired and excused yourself to grab some water. before you felt a nudge on your right, as heeseung leaned towards your ear. "can we talk later? don't say no just yet, just follow the green post its."

he walks away, as you look at him in confusion. feeling bad for what you said at lunch, you decide to meet him and see what he has to say.

following the pins of green post-its he left behind, you find yourself at the hidden rooftop jay was talking about at dinner. you open the door to be shocked at the view. the stars twinkling in the night sky. and stood there near the edge, was heeseung.

you broke the silence, clearing your throat, "you wanted to speak to me?"

heeseung looked at you and your dress, his mind going places. "yeah. i did. i'm not expecting an apology. i deserve it."

"but why'd you hate me so much, heeseung?" you whined at him, sick of his jokes.

"the thing is l/n, i don't!" he shouts, walking towards you, "it's not that i hate you, it's that i hate the way you make me feel. i hate the way you're so good at writing, i hate the way you win everything to make me proud, i hate the way you know my weaknesses, i hate the way you never gave up. you're on my mind every fucking day."

you walk up towards him, pulling his suit to pull him down, and him not expecting anything, you slap him across his face.

heeseung immediately pulled back, "ow! what was that for?"

"that was for not telling me about how you felt. you didn't have to bottle it up, you know?" you scoffed.

"and you didn't have to either!" he protested back, pulling out a familiar journal. your journal.

you grabbed it from his hands, "how'd you find this? i didn't even realize it was missing..."

heeseung sighed, "you know for a smart writer like you, you're very forgetful." a smile beginning to emerge.

"what did you read, heeseung? tell me." you asked, afraid that your secrets would spill out.

heeseung walked towards you, "enough to know that you're too stubborn to even tell me the truth. if you'd been feeling this way for months then you should have told me."

you gasped at him, "i would have told you about it if you weren't such a dick all the time? and then you kissing me last night just added more fuel to the fire." not realizing what you said, heeseung cupped your face, which was full of confusion.

"you remember last night?"

you blinked. "everything."

he laughed, "then you'd know i wouldn't hate you as much if i was doing this, would i?"

the familiar taste of his lips returned as he kissed you. you held onto his hands as he caressed your face. the oxygen you once craved had been fulfilled. you strung your arms around his neck, clinging onto him for dear life. you could feel the burst of sparks just surrounding the two of you, a moment you both craved.

the wavering facade between the two finally faded, unleashing the raw desire the two of you had, rushing through your veins.

you pulled away, heeseung leaning his forehead onto yours, before he gave you his best smile. you blushed out of nervousness and proximity the two of you held, not used to this view.

"you still hate me now?" you joked, smiling at him. his eyes softened, before he laughed, and kissing you once more, not wanting to let go. and as the stars glimmered under the night sky, you forgot time ever existed. forget the committee sessions due tomorrow, it was the two of you against the world.

surely, waking up on the final day of the conference would give you a sense of peace, right? wrong. you had spent so much time last night making out and talking with heeseung that you forgot your final mandatory article was due soon. waking up from the bed the two shared, limbs tangled once more, this time, you weren't ashamed.

you kissed heeseung's forehead to wake him up, and despite heeseung's wishes to stay in and make out some more, you declined and got ready.

"can't you just stay? a bit late to the first comses of the day won't hurt your awards." heeseung groaned, asking you to return.

"i was late at yesterday's comses post-lunch, so i think i'm going to be a good girl and come early to this one." you replied, fixing your tie.

heeseung basically stood up and tried to pull you back to bed, "come on, just be my good girl. i promise you will be awarded with all of my kisses in the world."

you shook your head, "missing out on a couple kisses won't be the death of me. come on, you need to prep for comses too."

heeseung moaned in complaint, "no, i'd break my streak for you, i don't care. i just want to stay in with you, away from everybody."

you were able to crawl your way out of his touch, "nope! i'm not letting you lose your streak just over me. come on, get ready. i'm going down for breakfast."

"can i at least have a goodbye kiss before you go?" he pouted, and the way his eyes resembled bambi, you gave in.

you tried to just give him a quick peck, but his touch was so fragile and welcoming, that if you didn't stand your ground, you'd probably be pinned down till the rest of the day. but you didn't want that, so you let go of his touch, assuring him that you'd spend more time with him after the conference.

now, here you were, back in your conference room with a giddy look on your face. you couldn't help but dream of last night. even sunoo, riki, jungwon, along with wonyoung, minjeong, and sunghoon, were even surprised to see you better all of a sudden.

"okay is this some weird process girls do the cope with sadness, cause if so how do we fix her?" sunoo asked, concerned.

wonyoung was staring at you like you were beaming, "it looks like pregnancy glow."

riki basically spit out his coffee, "wait so they actually fucked?"

minjeong snapped at riki, "who fucked?"

"we had speculation that, y/n and heeseung fucked the first night, hence why she was out of it the next day..." jungwon explained to the rest.

sunghoon, the only person out of the group who happened to know heeseung the best, commented that; "no there's no way he fucked her. if they fucked, they wouldn't have been here."

"could you stop speculating that me and heeseung fucked?" you snapped at the group. not out of anger, but annoyed that you couldn't concentrate.

"sorry, but did you?" riki enquired, earning him a riki! from the group around him. "what? i just wanna know."

you sighed, standing up and packing a couple things, "who cares if we fucked or not? just leave us alone." as you head out of the council room, heading to the crisis room for some final details.

contrary to how you first felt when you walked into the room, your heart felt full of hope. that this time, heeseung wouldn't be staring at you with hatred, instead of love. you hoped you wouldn't distract him.

as you walked into the council room, you nodded at chair yeonjun, before taking a seat at the prepared seats for the journalists. you sit down, open your laptop as you're typing your final mandatory article. you tried to glimpse towards heeseung, but you were returned with the same feeling as yesterday. the sharp gaze was back. maybe it's because he's in is element? mun is important to him... you thought, and busied yourself to writing your article. since it was your final committee session, you just had to submit your article and return for the closing editorial meeting. quickly clicking submit, and the chairs deeming the final committee session over, you wanted to sneak a quick kiss before returning for your meeting.

you stood up from your seat and walked towards heeseung. he stood up and saw you, walking your way. instead of being greeted by a hug or a kiss, he brushed past you to talk to his fellow delegates. you felt a pang in your chest, the way heeseung ignored you like that. you thought everything was okay. the kisses you shared, the conversations you had. you looked back at heeseung only to see him busy talking with the other delegates, barely sparing you a glance. you left the room quickly, not looking back.

unbeknownst to you, heeseung saw you leaving, his heart barely surviving after treating you like that. you deserved better than him. he couldn't have it all.

the final editorial meeting of press councils should be a joy to you. no more deadlines, no more press conferences. but you were stuck in your head. repeating the interaction over and over in your head, you didn't understand a single thing.

after the comments and input from both the chairs and the journalists, chair shuhua decided to pull out the gossip box. you'd been informed prior about the gossip box filling at social night, but since you ran off with heeseung to make out the night away, you didn't have time to fill it in.

as shuhua and beomgyu begin to read the entries, earning laughter all around the room, a certain entry snaps you out of your trance.

"oh this is a good one! new york times from press and colombia from crisis actually fit really good together! hope the enemies finally turn into lovers! wait is this about y/n and heeseung?" chair shuhua asks, causing the whole room to look at you.

you looked at everyone strangely, "what? there's nothing."

chair beomgyu shook his head, "no no no, i don't think there's nothing. come on spill the tea, something must've happened the past three days."

everybody was waiting on your response. waiting for you to tell everyone what happened. you just wanted them to shut up. "okay well. we kissed."

the group of six who were pestering you earlier, gasped loudly. earning you a rumble of no shit's, wait actually's, and a loud jinjja?!

you couldn't help but sink back into your seat, still upset about the way he treated you earlier. "yeah, but he's treating me like shit again today, so. that's that."

the entire room aww'ed in disappointment, before the chairs read out a couple more entries, and adjourns the final editorial. you stand up to clean your table, taking out a pen to begin signing each others' placards. signing everybody else's, photo sessions were in array, and after you were finally allowed to have some free time before awarding ceremony.

awarding ceremony was one of those moments where you have hope, but at the same time you don't. you start rethinking choices you made during the conference, wondering if you made the right option. you headed your way to where the press council was sat at, where you met a couple other delegates, even bumping into jeongin, wishing each other a good luck!

you sit down between wonyoung and minjeong, which earned you an endearing hug from the two, assuring your problems with heeseung didn't matter. stuck in your head, you didn't notice the boys' absence in the room. and awarding had begun. the secretary-general of harvard model congress came up and made their speech, thanking all the delegates for participating and giving their best. chairs from other councils begin to come up to give their awards.

meanwhile, outside of the room, was heeseung cornered by jay, jake, and sunghoon.

heeseung, not caught up with the situation, looked at the three with confusion. "what did i do?"

jay scoffed, "what did you do? you managed to fuck it up again? what did i tell you?!" shaking the life out of him.

heeseung shook his head in confusion, not knowing what to do, when sunghoon came up to him, "look man, your little feud with y/n has to stop. i don't get you anymore. i thought you'd be good at this after helping me and wonyoung get together..."

"nah dude you're in denial. what do you mean you two basically confessed to not hating each other and then made out a bunch of times, only for you to leave her and ignore her like so? that's crazy." jake protested. that was the truth.

"i don't know what to tell you, but me and jake have got to get back for unsc awarding, but please think about it? i know you feel scared of this whole love thing, but i assure you, it's okay to feel this way." jay says, leaving with jake, which left sunghoon with heeseung alone.

heeseung didn't know what to do. for the first time in his life, everything was out of his control. he craved you and needed you, but he felt like he didn't deserve you. it was as if a crisis was happening in his own mind.

as he hears the cheers of the room with every award that is given out, his heart races. he hears the announcement where jay and jake both won best delegates, which they had been double delegating in.

sunghoon kept trying to comfort heeseung, not knowing what to say to him. "look, i may not understand the way your mind works, but i assure you that you deserve her. you've put yourself through it all for decelis, and the track record that we have wouldn't have been what it is now if it wasn't for you. i don't know what plan you're cooking up, but whatever it is, win her back." heeseung looks at sunghoon with sheer nervousness in his eyes. "press and crisis are left, so whatever you want to do? do it now. before its too late."

leaving heeseung alone outside the room, sunghoon walks back in, returning to where the press journalists sat. he saw you picking on your nails out of habit, nervous for the next awards. as your chairs walk up to the podium, sunghoon just hopes heeseung would do something.

as names begin getting called out, sunoo winning best pre-conference video, then riki and jungwon winning verbal commendations, wonyoung and minjeong winning honorable mentions, you held on tight to the tiny string of hope left. it was probably between you and sunghoon left. as you look around the room, heeseung is still nowhere to be found. you had hoped that maybe with this win, you'd make him proud once and for all.

"the final two journalists were a tight match. these two shown impeccable talent in their articles and presence the past three days." shuhua announces. "it is with our great pleasure that the most outstanding journalist goes to, park sunghoon!"

wonyoung, who was on the stage prior, basically screams in joy. you high five sunghoon before he winks at you, knowing you'd win best journalist. but a part of you still thinks you won't.

beomgyu gives sunghoon his award, before adjusting his mic. "this final journalist has pure talent in her writing, and have awestruck the both of us with her work. without further ado, we would like to present that the best journalist award goes to none other than... l/n y/n!"

relief. that's all what washes towards you. yes you've heard your name and the words best journalist go along too often, but every time it happens, it always feels euphoric. as you walk up the stage to receive your award, earning smiles from the other awardees, you couldn't help but look to the crowd.

you see jay and jake basically jumping up and down in joy, but heeseung was still nowhere to be found. a pang of disappointment burns in your chest as you walk down the podium with your certificate in hand. an array of congratulations! are heard, as you sit back down for the final awarding. crisis.

zoning out, after feeling the euphoria of your win, your mind drifts off to heeseung. how would he feel? was he proud?

as chair yeonjun announces the awardees, you are cut out of your trance with every round of applause. you see jeongin win most outstanding, and you cheer for him.

as yeonjun clears his throat for the final award, he begins his speech. "this final award goes to a delegate who really deserves it all. although this mun may have not been his best run, he deserves so much more than the title: prodigy. i'd like to present this best delegate award to none other than... you know what? lee heeseung get up here, get your award, and get your girl!"

with pure shock, you watch as heeseung bursts through the doors, run up to the podium, quickly shake his chairs' hands, grabs his certificate, and runs down. and he's running to you.

he drops his certificate on the floor, before engulfing you in the biggest hug he's ever given in his life. spinning you around, you squeal in excitement. he whispers in your ear an array of i'm so proud of you's, before putting you down, and kissing you in front of everyone.

you cling onto him, parting your lips allowing him to kiss you deeper and deeper, and the feeling of sparks flying around you made it feel like it would last forever. your ears muffle all the cheers surrounding you, only focusing on heeseung, and heeseung only.

he puts you down and rests his forehead on yours, exactly like how he did on the rooftop the night before. "how'd you pull this off?" you ask him, still on cloud nine.

"eh, had some help from chair yeonjun. didn't expect the bestdel though." heeseung laughs, holding you by the waist, tighter, and tighter.

you held his face closer, wanting to feel his touch, "why'd you do that? why'd you run?"

"y/n. i love you. i never knew how to say it all this time, because it's a feeling unlike any other. to the point it made me feel as if my life was in crisis. but that's when i realized i never had it all. not until i found you."

taglist; @riekiss @sesameoil721 @desistay @capri-cuntz @beomluvrr @shawnyle @tya0 @heexoolio @sunghoonsgff @spiderhanzzz (crossed out = i can't tag you)

back to my masterlist?

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction.

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hamiltonells · 6 months

Text

ALWAYS ~ JUDE BELLINGHAM

[sort of based of this request! so thank you for request. please let me know what you think! always welcome to criticism, also let me know if you would like a series based or this little family! 🍓]

[SUMMARY: being soon to be parents is hard especially being so young as well, but Jude and y/n takes everything in their stride]

[WARNINGS: fluff, smut, morning sickness? not edited, swearing spelling mistakes? ]

You’re feet shuffled across the cold kitchen flooring as you soothed your bump with one hand and held a tub of Ben and Jerry's ice cream in the other, Your seven -month bump slightly peaking out of Jude’s shirt.

“Are you still okay for tomorrow, beautiful?” Jude’s voice reaches out over the FaceTime call, as you sitback down on the sofa and put the blanket over your bump.

With Jude being in Madrid, it was decided that you would have dinner at his parents' house in England. Due to your frequent travels between England and Madrid, you rarely have the opportunity to spend time with his family, especially with his mother being in the middle.

you placed the laptop on your lap during the ongoing FaceTime call with Jude, “Yeah all good jude, what time is your flight back” your voice grew tired with every sentence you speak.

“flight is about four in the morning will get back home at seven”Jude's voice making you grow even more tired and relaxed.

You knew it was difficult for Jude to balance being at the top of the football world and being a father at just twenty years of age, but he never complained about it once

It was unexpected for you to become pregnant, and it came as a surprise since you are only nineteen and Jude is twenty years old, but you both took it as your little blessing.

"Is my little one okay? It seems like she's wearing Mommy out" Jude's voice echoes through the FaceTime call, "we're okay, just tired and the usual sickness," your voice tiredly drawls out.

Since discovering you were pregnant, you have been experiencing severe nausea, even if it was morning or night It felt like a constant battle to keep any food down, and the smell of certain foods would instantly trigger your gag reflex.

"Plus, we miss daddy a lot," you said "fuck,don't do that voice, it turns me on" he added with a rough accent, you tutted “better hurry up home then”

"I'll be back home shortly, my Love," he said in his gentle Birmingham accent.

you was sound asleep when you heard the keys jingle in the door, the door open and Jude's footsteps slowly and carefully plodding up the stairs.

You hear Jude carefully open the door to the bedroom where you both share. As you shuffle yourself up to sit against the headboard, you reach for the switch to switch on the lamp, and you switch it on.

"What are you doing awake?" Jude's tired voice broke the silence of the room. You turned to see him rubbing his eyes, looking disheveled and exhausted.

"I missed you, heard you trying to be quiet" you admitted "I'm sorry, I just didn't want to disturb you" he replied, a sheepish smile on his face.

"You could never disturb me. I always want to hear your voice." you said softly, Moving to swing your legs out of bed holding your pregnant belly as you trying to ignore the persistent pressure on your bladder.

You sigh, knowing you have to get out of bed to relieve yourself.

“oi what you doing, let me help” Jude’s voice fills your ears, as he rushes to be by your side, you feel a pair of strong arms wrap around you, supporting your weight.

As he presses a soft kiss to your head, Your loving Jude gently helps you out of bed and guides you to the bathroom, making sure you don't trip over your own feet.

Once you’ve emptied your bladder, you get back into bed with a kiss on the cheek from Jude.

You snuggle into the bed sheets, Jude’s bare back now facing you as he’s rambling on about something with his toothbrush in his mouth, you don’t realise your eyes have started to close until you feel the bed dip beside you.

“Sorry baby, didn't mean to wake you again” Jude whispered as he pulled the duvet over the pair of you, with your back facing Jude he slides his arms around you and on to your bump.

"I love you and we both missed you," you murmur softly in response to him, you feel him snuggle into your neck as he presses a soft kiss there.

“hey Jobe”you slightly laugh out his name as he opens the door only to be thrown into a headlock by his own brother, the pair of them shuffling into the living room as they play fight with each other.

You shut the front door and clean your feet on the doormat before untying your shoelaces and removing your shoes.

You enter the living room and see the two brothers sitting on the sofa with a sour expression and Denise giving them a look.

"Y/n, lovely seeing you again” Denise greets you warmly as she glances up and sees you standing in the doorway “you look amazing, not long left now” she hugs you as you smile and look down, “thank you Denise” you gushed as you sat in between Jude and Jobe.

“only a couple more months left, did Jude show you the scan pictures” you continued.

"Yeah, he did," she replied with a smile. "They're amazing, aren't they? I can't believe how much the baby has grown already."

"I know, it's incredible," you said, excitement evident in your voice. "I can't wait to meet him or her."

"As long as they don't look like Jude, they will be alright" Jobe joked “You’re literally like a mini Jude, Jobe” You laughed as you put your hand onto Jude’s thigh.

“It's nice to know that I can actually grow a beard at the moment" Jude mumbles to himself, but loud enough so that Jobe can hear, "you call that a beard" Jobe laughs as he’s dodging Jude's kick.

As Denise calls all of you over for dinner, Jude gets up first to assist you up, putting one hand on your back as he guides you over to the dinner table, he sits next to you his hand on your thigh.

Mark, Jude’s dad is sat across from you, making slight conversation as you start eating your food.

As you took another bite of your food, your stomach churned you felt a wave of nausea wash over you, you reach out to take a sip of your water to hopefully wash it down.

But as the night went on, the feeling only got worse, your hand went straight over your mouth mumbling your apologies as you rush through the house to get to the bathroom.

He trails behind you, apologizing to his family before heading to the bathroom to assist you, gently rubbing circles on your back as you lean over the toilet, feeling him gather your hair up in his hands.

“you okay baby?” His voice soothing you, you lean back into him breathless as the embarrassment washes over you.

”Jude, I am deeply embarrassed. Your mother and your entire family are under the impression that I became sick because of the meal she cooked.“You convey your concern by covering your face with your hands.

“she doesn’t think that, don’t be stupid they know your struggling with your pregnancy” Jude tries to calm your down by wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you both sit in the bathroom floor.

“You okay y/n?” Denise’s worried voice makes you look up, as you see her standing in the doorway “she’s okay mum, bit tired though I think” Jude answers for you as he puts a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I'll set up Jude's room for you both, and maybe it'll be best if you stay overnight, I'll bring some lemonade up to help it helped my morning sickness with Jobe" Denise smiles at you .

In a pair of shorts and an old shirt, you lay on the bed of Jude's old bedroom, covered in the familiar smell of his old clothes.

Jude is right next to you, scrolling through his phone on his lap with his hand on your inner thigh as he softly squeezes it, as he as he speaks with Jobe who is laying across the end of the bed, who is also scrolling on his phone.

"How much longer do you have left?" Jobe asks quietly as you open your eyes to his voice. "Just a little over a month, why are you excited, Uncle Jobe?" you playfully respond.

he just hums to your question, focusing back on whatever was on his phone.

The next thing you notice is Jude placing his phone on his bedside table, and then shuffles over and settles his head on your chest while his hands go straight to shirt to lift it up, his hands go to your bump to soothe it.

In your hands, you are gentle touching the ends of his hair gently twisting it and reaching to his scruffy beard gently scratching it as he hums softly to.

When he presses a soft kiss against your bump, your unborn baby gives him a small kick as they responds to his kisses

“Did you feel that?” Jude’s face snaps around to face you as he realizes what has happened “yeah, going to be like there daddy” you smile as you stroke his cheek.

“what? let me feel, move Jude” Jobe says as he rushes to your side and he places his own hand on your bump he pushes Jude's hands away as he presses his own against the bump.

“Jobe, fucking hell it's my kid.” Jude leans down for a for a kiss before getting up and making his way to the bathroom. You giggle as you see Jude's scrunched up face as he gets up and goes to the bathroom.

you’ve just gotten into bed when Jude come in with a glass of water and places it on your bedside table, “mum says goodnight” you hum to answer him while tugging him down to yourself.

"Careful," he laughs as he catches himself on his hands as he's above you, your hands go around his neck as you press a kiss to his lips.

His laughter fades into a soft sigh as he leans in for another kiss, his lips meeting yours once more before he puts his face into your neck and presses a few light kisses.

“You have a good day, baby?” He mumbles into the crook of your neck “the best thank j” you the nickname you call him slides off your tongue easily.

Jude hums“I love you so bloody much”

“I love you more” you giggle even more when be nips your neck.

He seals your lips together once more, using his knees to spread your thighs a bit further apart for him as he spreads them apart.

In the midst of your kiss, he lets out a breathy moan, courtesy of the fingers which are holding his face, interrupting your kiss with a breathy moan.

Jude utilizes the chance to break away and snag a pillow from his side of the bed, urging your hips up by tapping the fluffy thing against your side.

your lift your back up, and he settles it under your lower back and bum to prop you up. Fortunately for him, he has had extensive experience navigating the challenges of your pregnant belly.

he grips your shorts and carefully pulls them off, taking your knickers off and softly pressing a kiss to your thigh in the progress.

Settling between your thighs, Jude giggles when you wraps your legs around his hips and tugs him closer.

Jude’s body hovers over yours , love-sick smiles a breath away from meeting each other, and he drags his fingers through your folds, groaning at how slick you’ve become.

“Oh fuck” you whisper into Jude’s ear, biting back a grin as Jude grips his cock with the fingers that had previously been fondling you.

Jude smiles as their chests are pressed together, enjoying the feeling of their stomachs touching while he guides himself into your slit.

Jude hums appreciatively, eyes fluttering shut as he basks in how warm and gooey you are for him. He'd almost forgotten how it felt to have you this desperate for him and his touch.

“Need to be quiet, Jobe next door” he whispered as a moan ripped though your body.

"Oh it's so good darling," he mumbles to you, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. He made a gentle backward slip, pulling the hips back gently as he slipped forward again, his breath stuttering as he dutifully slipped forward once again.

Guiding him, you softly release a moan, lowering one hand to the lower part of his back. With a whisper that tickles his ear, you affirm, "Jude, So so good." Tickled by the sensation, he squirms slightly and responds with a small laugh.

Jude soft with his movements, cautious of the baby between yourself, "made for being wrapped me huh?" And jude thinks nothing ever been truer.

Your arms were made to hold him, youe hands were made for pulling him closer and closer, and your heart was made to completely consume his.

you reached your high before him, rolling your hips up to try and bring him to the edge, grinding down into your heat as his cock twitches and buries deep in your walls.

Jude knows you’re watching his eyes scrunch shut and his gaping mouth curl into a breathy laugh as he comes “sorry baby, too tired for another one” he breathes into your neck.

As you nod and brush the sweaty spots from his forehead to soothe him and just like that, he is already able to feel lighter. He never has to sorry with you, you’ll always be here for him.

#jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent x reader #football one shot #football imagine #trent alexander arnold #max verstappen x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #charles leclerc x reader #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton x you #lewishamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #smut

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generalsmemories · 4 months

Note

HELLOO THEREE!! i love how dedicated you to jing yuan!! Can i have req for 1k event???

Fluff sentences "8" + fluff scenarios "4"!!

Thank you so much!!

I keep looking forward to your JY work!!

Bedrest

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ prompts: Not letting the sick one move an inch + playing with their hair until they fall asleep & "You're going to get sick if you keep coddling me." "And you're just going to get worse if I don't" || 1k event also requested by @/thetwinkims

✧ content: fluff, established relationship, i swear it's just fluff like for once there's no hidden angst over here.

✧ a/n: hello fellow jing yuan lovers, i'm still alive. this was once again written at 1 AM and not edited at all so if there's any writing mistakes, no there isn't. the initial plan was to keep this one in the drafts while I also write other WIPS to feel productive but i have honestly starved ya'll for months at this point i'm so sorry i'm back with milk.

have soft jing yuan just giggling, is he delirious, sleepy or just in love? we don't know.

If you could describe Jing Yuan in one word other than mischievous, it would be stubborn. The General of the Xianzhou Luofu is too stubborn for his own good, you don't know if this stubbornness of his is rooted in his desire to protect Luofu from danger, or from the fact that he just dislikes when people wish for him to do something in particular.

In any case, his stubborn and mischievous nature could very well be linked to that of a feline - which he himself has been told that he share similar traits of, despite being fully human.

You just wished that he would be less stubborn when it also came to his health.

"Jing Yuan, how many times have I told you to just lay down…!" you say whilst gritting your teeth, using almost every ounce of your strength to push the general back down on the bed. Jing Yuan merely lets out a quiet chuckle, still trying "playfully" wrangling with you. "I'm injured, not sick, dear." he says, to which you merely roll your eyes in exhaustion.

Jing Yuan truly loves it when you finally forego your usual gentle demeanour to a more brazen one. It's usually a side of you that only he can see, more so because he's the only one who can annoy you enough to make you realize that gentle words and probing won't get you anywhere.

"I don't think someone with a temperature of 40 degrees is only injured, darling. Now can you please just lay down before you reopen your wounds?" you plead once again, pressing the heels of your palms further down Jing Yuan's broad shoulder which shook in quiet laughter at your desperate struggle.

"I'm wide awake after having taken numerous naps because per your request though?" he informs, finally settling back down on the bed which finally allows you to lean back to sit on the edge of the bed again. "Last time you insisted that you were fine, I had to get Mimi to help haul you up the stairs because you could barely move." you remind him with a huff, Jing Yuan turning over on his side to face you, his already messy bangs sweeping over to the side to almost cover his right eye.

He didn't say anything, his arm was still laid behind his head to act as another form of cushion while the other rested lazily over the bedsheets. You could however see the golden eyes peering deeply into your own between the grey strands. A silent request that he didn't dare utter to you.

Jing Yuan rarely requested things from you after all.

With a sigh, you turn your body over and hoist your knees over the bed. Nudging Jing Yuan's arm aside with your hands, "Move them." you quietly demand, the same golden eyes that were peering at you blinking in slight confusion. "What for?" he questions softly while moving his arm upwards.

You don't reply, merely raising the thin blanket up to lay down beside Jing Yuan - making sure that you were hoisted a bit higher up than he was. You snake one arm around Jing Yuan's neck, a silent request to make him scoot closer to you.

When he's close enough, you hook your chin over his head while pressing his face towards your chest, the other arm wrapping around his hair. "There we go."

A few beats of silence passes by, you can feel Jing Yuan take in a few more breaths than normal whilst his eyelashes brush against the material of your shirt, the material thin enough to feel every movement of his face that's pressed against the upper part of your torso.

And then he's shaking in another quiet chuckle, "You're going to get sick if you keep coddling me at this point, darling." he says, and yet the arms that snake around your waist and the way he snuggles deeper into your chest indicates that he won't let you go now that he got you within his grasp.

He can tell that you're rolling your eyes yet again. You decide to answer his jab with a small peck on top of his head, mostly focusing your attention to the locks of hair in between your fingers, curling a particular strand around your finger whilst your other thumb is busy rubbing soothing circles at his hipbone. "And you're just going to get worse if I don't."

The general merely huffs out a laugh, replying to the peck on his head with kiss against your shirt. "You spoil me way too much." is the last thing he whispers, before he quickly falls into a deep slumber.

Because you both know that Jing Yuan truly never sleeps unless you're near him.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr imagines #star rail x reader #star rail x you #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #x reader #reader insert #generalmemories 1k event

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syeollock · 8 months

Text

𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕 𝚏𝚝. 𝙷𝚢𝚎𝚠𝚘𝚗 𝚡 𝙼𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Tags : Light Angst, Drinking, Hate Sex, Rough Sex (It gets rough), Daddy Kink, Degradation, Belly Bulging, Fingering, and one mention of peeing.

A/N: First fic finally came out... Thank God! I just want to say thanks to @capslocked for introducing me to other writers that helped me out. Thank you @gangplanksorenji, @ggidolsmuts, @iznsfw, and @fillinforlater for editing and guiding a beginner like me. Also thank you to the other writers (that didn't want their name to be mentioned.)

A glimpse, no. Perhaps a little longer, a gaze maybe? How about something more drawn out, a stare? To and away, you stared. “This is getting dangerous,” you deemed all the while staring at her.

The two of you walked slowly in the wet, desolate streets—admiring the peaceful solace the night brought. The streets lighting up but dying down; a moonlight gleam hugged her delicate features. The midnight dress emphasised her pale beautiful skin, foregrounded by the starry night. The base of her neck—her defined collarbone seeping down to her chest—caressed by the midnight breeze.

The rushing rain trailed off of your face. Her hand held yours, pulling you through city streets. Twisting through your callous hand, your hands intertwined. A mistake maybe? No matter. If it was you from the past it might’ve posed a problem but not anymore. By pure instinct, you grasped hers as well, strengthening the purest form of human connection.

A light flashed at the corner of your eye, the bus stop sign reflecting the moonlight glare. She seemed to not mind the rain, but you didn’t want her getting sick. A pull, strong enough to take control but gentle enough not to hurt her, was all it took to break her gait. You pulled her towards the bus stop, sheltering the both of you from the rain.

Admittedly, you pulled her a tad too hard; and Hyewon, unable to stop, came crashing onto your torso. Not wanting gravity to take control, you stiffened up.

“Yah!” she growled.

Your arms welcomed the crashing Hyewon, wrapping her in a tight embrace. Wet. Both of your clothes drenched and hers even more noticeable—her soaked clothes clung onto her body, tightening around every single curve, the very definition of form-fitting. You felt it all: the warmth of her hand on your pecs and her hot humid breath making its way up to you.

Seeing her eyes squeeze shut and her lips quiver, you brought her closer to you—embracing her a little while longer in hopes of soothing her distress.

You held her by her shoulders, “Sorry! Are you ok?” full of concern.

She unwrapped her eyelids, “Y-yeah. I’m fine. You just… surprised me, that’s all.”

You plopped her down on the bench, safe from the rain. Shivering, probably because of the cold, you took off your coat and wrapped it around her—not taking “no” for an answer.

“Oh… thanks.” She looked up, her eyes like that of a raindrop—reflecting your irises into hers. Hyewon would normally be easy to read. She was the type of person to lay it all bare—making you comfortable knowing she didn’t have any ulterior motives, but this time felt a little different. Her irises reflected the care and intimacy you had for her. You tried to look away but you were immediately drawn back in.

You take a kneel, your face now half an arms length away from her, only now do you notice the peaks of her mounds piercing through her dress. Bare. With every breath, her thin frame expanded and contracted. The fragility of her body displayed itself in all its glory.

“It worked out anyways,” her voice brought you back to your senses, “You dragged us to where I planned to go.”

And so, you waited for the next bus to arrive. A moment of peace and tranquility, a moment so plain from which insanity can derive from. Yet you felt your consciousness ebb away, and as clear as your thoughts were mere moments ago, your head slowly swayed into the flow of the wind. At once, you were struck with a certain heaviness. Your head over your shoulder, on the lookout, only to see Hyewon’s head leaning against it. Unbeknownst to you, your cheeks flushed red like a paper lantern, the city serving as backdrop. Were you able to disassociate yourself tangibly, the scene transpiring right now painted a romantic cliche.

A beam of light made its way around the corner—the bus finally arrived. “Hyewon,” you shook her by her shoulders. A small shift but nothing more. “You’re joking?” you murmured.

“Where did she even want to go…?” A heave and a ho, you carried her like a log. The driver motioned towards an empty seat in the back row. You sat her down once again with utmost care to not wake her up. Her head flailed towards the window—thump, thump, thump—hitting the window as the bus rode through the bumps. Your hand broke through the space in between and pulled her head closer up against your shoulder, her head resting on your shoulder once again.

Deep asleep, she didn’t notice you going through her bag in search of anything indicating the location of her humble abode. It didn’t take long, Gyeoul Gong-gan Apartment Unit 381. “Wait… we live in the same apartment. What am I doing?” you mused, your thoughts clearly influenced by the devil’s nectar. With a tolerance stronger than most, weakness struck with a heavy advantage. Clearly not used to it, your eyes grew heavy and fell—only putting up a tiny struggle before your head soon followed.

Flashback…

The pitter-pattering of the rain echoed throughout your apartment. The once lively place now reflected the same gloom the weather gave off. Oddly enough, it was calming for you. It served as a nice distraction to what used to be an apartment teeming with happiness and laughter—enough to rack up multiple noise complaints—now filled with a dreadful quietness, constantly reminding you of your lonesome. Minutes slipped by without notice, you found yourself staring at the ceiling with no recollection of the events prior to your sleep. Whether it be the drinks or the stress of university life, nights were no longer the same. There was never a release, a sigh of relief like there used to be, but it was all a subconscious effort to distract yourself.

After a couple of seconds, your pillow started to vibrate, or so you thought. It took quite some time before you could get his body moving but you did. You have one missed call. Suddenly, you felt rejuvenated. “Did she call?” you scrambled out of your bed, “I knew it was all going to be okay.” And similar to that of a balloon, you deflated—shoulders slumping and your breath slipping out—just as quickly as you scrambled. “Hey man… wanna go out to eat,” the message read out, “Class is starting again, the others are worried about you.” It was your best friend, Seonghoon.

It’s been a while since your friend group last hung out together; and because of the pandemic, the first years of your university life took place online. Little did you know that this supposedly forgettable and uneventful time in your life would actually be your undoing. One that would imprint a mark inside that would slowly gnaw at you from the inside out. Like a boat hemmed in the fog—fog so light it looked like cotton, fog so light that you couldn’t help but underestimate it—the captain’s head on a swivel. So desperate, you looked for any light that shone through the softest white that enveloped you. Clouded. And there it was, the fire and the glow in the form of a girl. More luster than the starry sky and more luminous than the lone lantern in the night. Like the vacuum of space, she took you in with a pull stronger than that of black holes. The same dark nothingness in the middle of the starry sky, she was a person of immeasurable depth—an abyss, so enthralling you couldn’t let your gaze slip.

The fire that embraced you with the warmth in the cold darkness, turned out to be the same fire that would reduce you to ashes—to nothing but a former shell of yourself. She called the tune and you listened. The tidal waves that would move as the moon influenced. The same body of water that would be lifeless without movement, “Maybe it was for the better.” She pulled the string—the tension tighter than an ancient lyre—and you broke.

Your phone vibrates once more, this time an alarm. Laundry - 3:00 pm. It was that time of the week but this one was more important than the last. Everyone was getting ready to go back to face-to-face classes after two years and first impressions were very important. But with dark circles under your eyes and a gaze so flat, it cut the air—you weren’t in the most presentable state. It took some incredible self-persuasion for you to finally get moving. Granted, all you had done so far was wash your face and wear some new clothes, but it was a step in the right direction no matter how minute it was. After taking some time to fix yourself up, you scanned your apartment. The acrid smell of the multiple leftovers pierced your nostrils—strong and stinging, you choked up—finally snapping you out of your sad-stricken state, even if only for a moment. Immediately realizing the gravity of the situation, you hurriedly grabbed your washed and dirty clothes and took them down to the laundromat.

It didn’t take long for you to go down the flight of stairs and reach the laundromat. An orange hue struck past the window, a nice and calming atmosphere, or so it would have been if you hadn’t confined yourself in your room; essentially locking yourself away from all sunlight other than the dim and gloomy light struggling through the thickness of the curtains, like that of an eclipse.

It’s been six months since your apartment was last filled with the voice of another and even longer since you last met up with your friends. “Maybe I should go…?” you questioned yourself, “What if I kill the vibe though?” You went back up the stairs and cleaned your apartment while waiting for the laundry. It didn’t take long, as the orange hue was still there when you went back downstairs. Quicker than you thought, you found some free time; memories of smiles and laughter came flooding in. You had so much free time now… time that would have normally been spent wit—

The laundry came to a stop unnoticed, but the cycle signal broke your train of thought. You collected your clothes and brought them back up. 1… 2… 3… 4… The elevator taking longer than usual, your mind wandered once again. A tiny grin started to form on your face, quickly turning itself upside down. “Damn… I’m really gonna live with this for quite some ti—”

“Oh my God, it’s been so long!” a voice interrupted, “remember me?”

A dazed, “Huh?” slipped out; with furrowed brows and squinted eyes, you tried to identify the owner of the voice but to no avail. Silence filled the air momentarily, “Uh… I think you have the wrong guy,” you suggested.

“Oh, come on! It’s me,” she swiped a lock of disheveled hair, “How about now?”

Your jaw fell, words stuck in your throat, “Hye—Hyewon? What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean? I live here,” she retorted, “So… you’re getting your things ready for class, huh?” A puzzled look appeared on your face, “Don’t tell me you also go to Seoul University.”

“Also…?” her eyes widened, a realization, “What are you majoring in?”

“Architecture,” they said in parallel to each other. “Jinx! You owe me a soda,” she exclaimed.

“Wha—” a smug face greeted you, “How did you know?”

She turned her head away, “That’s a secret.”

“You can’t be serious, right? I’m busy right now,” you exhaled.

“You can just buy me one some other time,” she presented her phone, “Just give me your phone number. I changed mine a while back.” In a rush, you quickly put it in and disappeared from her view.

———————————————

The bustling city filled your senses: the people being dragged by the unseeing hand of capitalism, the awful artificial vibrations of the many cars racing to get to their workplaces, the smell of the tears of the hardworking man, and the swell of humanity creeping in everyone’s personal space. It all slowly crept in—like the vignette forming in your vision. All sounds slowly if not suddenly muffled themselves.

A tap on the shoulder, “Yo… you good?” your head subtly swung, mimicking that of a pendulum, a response but not to the question. “Y-yeah… Sorry, I zoned out.”

“It’s our stop soon, get your things,” Seonghoon told you. "By the way have you heard of the new—” A ring broke the one-sided conversation—Hyewon was calling. “Oooh, so you have got someone?” he teased.

You waved Seonghoon off and answered the phone. “He—Hi!” a snicker from Seonghoon earned another wave. The voice on the phone echoed, “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what I said last time? I was waiting for you, you know?”

“Right… yeah. Of course, I remember,” you replied, “There’s a Korean BBQ spot I know downtown. Are you free this Friday?” Your reply earned a smirk from your friend. “Alright then, just call me. I’ll pick you up.”

“And with that, the date has been set,” you exhaled.

Seonghoon’s brows furrowed, “It’s a date?!?!?”

Eyes widened, “What!? No, no, no! I meant the date September 14!”

A playful punch hit you on your shoulder, “Relax… I was just messing with you. It’s our stop by the way.” Seonghoon led the way while you followed. It was quite a trek before you would reach the main campus, eventually splitting up due to the difference in departments. You would then drag your drained self through the day, and all of a sudden it was nighttime.

The swell of humanity had already dissipated, and what remained were the remnants of people picking themselves back up from their busy day. There were also a few people—whether responsible or irresponsible, we’ll never know—burning the midnight oil. Some people were playing catch-up, while others were trying to get ahead of everyone else. It just made it clear that everyone was moving without a single care for your own problems.

And with less than three days to prepare and classes taking up most if not all of your time, it was physically impossible to be at your best.

The sound of sizzling meat mixed with the aroma of seasonings and sauces fill your senses as you enter the building. The aroma was intoxicating, causing your mouth to water—yet you couldn’t do anything but wait as you and Hyewon stood outside waiting to be ushered to your seats.

Korea just transitioned away from its pandemic protocols. It’s been ages since you last ate out by yourself, let alone with the company of someone else.

“Is it only going to be the two of you?” the waiter asked. You nodded in response.

“Just follow me.” The waiter motioned towards an empty seat. You allowed your partner to go first (now don’t get it wrong, you guys aren’t in that type of relationship) displaying your gentlemanly behavior. Partners, in a non-romantic way, just seems like the appropriate way to call it

The both of you sat down to where the waiter ushered you. You were welcomed by a soft yellow hue coming through the window from the lamppost outside. A calming atmosphere radiated from where you sat—the seats being padded which allowed for some of your stiffness to disappear.

Taking a short look around, your architectural senses started tingling. Things you wouldn’t have noticed before become apparent—Greek pillars lifted the ceiling to a higher degree than normal, to allow for a spacious and comfortable feeling, while small pots of flowers hung from the ceiling reminded you of ancient history, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon to be exact.

Ancient history… well, that’s another way to describe what you and Hyewon have going on. It’s been ages since you guys last met yet somehow you’re here eating with her, like it was just the good old days.

Anyways, it was kind of weird that a Korean barbecue restaurant had such a niche and unique design. The theme didn’t really match, like, who would pair the straight and harmonious architecture of the Greeks with a casual and relaxed establishment? The contrast between the two didn’t make sense from an outsider’s perspective but you guess it was a quality restaurant. There was an hour long line after all, so people must like it.

After looking around, you finally found your vision was naturally attracted to her face. You did look at everything else already so it just made sense to focus on the one last thing you haven’t paid attention to, whether on purpose or not.

Hyewon was definitely beautiful but you never really got a proper look at her. It wasn’t like you’d just randomly stare at her for a good ten seconds or so, that’d be weird… but it was happening right now. However, things are unexpectedly in your favor. Right now, all of her attention was directed towards the menu—if this was any other world, she’d have made a hole through the menu with how intense her gaze was.

It was clear she took great care of her appearance. Her skin was smooth to the touch, you imagine. Her lips were full and upturned at the corners, giving her a soft look of innocence. Hair, long and draped over her shoulders like the gentle waves of the ocean. Eyes, large and expressive—almost giving you a full view to what she was thinking—and her beauty was enhanced by her effortless charm and grace… or lack thereof. You knew that when it came to the grace part, she wasn’t the most graceful whenever food was in front of her.

You guys ordered some grilled pork belly accompanied by an assortment of side-dishes and some good old soju. With excellent service, your order arrived within ten minutes. She had just gone to the bathroom to touch up her makeup—so light that you didn’t even notice she had put it on. She returned at basically the perfect time.

“Hey! Are you going to help me or not?” She exclaimed, ready to put the meat on. You were staring at her again—no menu to distract her this time.

“Y-yeah… Sorry, I was just thinking about some things.” You reached out for the tongs she was handing you.

“It’s just our first week. Is there something wrong?” she asked with a hint of concern.

Eureka! The contrast between the straight and harmonious architecture of the Greeks and the relaxed and casual establishment perfectly reminded you of Hyewon. Her soft and innocent look, that just radiated charm and grace, was in complete contrast to how she actually acts around people. She was always a genuine person that did and said whatever she wanted. She never bothered to please other people just for the sake of it. Kind of weird that you’re comparing a restaurant to a person but that’s what happens to architecture majors.

You brushed away all of your thoughts. “No, no, no. It’s not a school thing,” you replied quickly, trying to clear her concern.

“Hmmm… If you say so.” She hesitated, trying not to pry. “Anyways, let’s start cooking for real this time. Let’s leave all that stuff for another time.”

You finally started cooking. You laid the pieces of meat over the piping hot grill. You watched as it cooked itself from the overwhelming heat coming from the grill. You watched as the raw fat from the pork belly slowly transformed to a nice golden brown and its juices slowly dripped off the edge. You were so absorbed into watching the meat being cooked that you didn’t even begin to notice the rustic scent of the grill slowly change to that of a tasty aroma. The sound of the crackling fat over the heat was nothing but music to your ears. You couldn’t read minds but you could tell that Hyewon shared the same thoughts as you. As far as you could tell, she was still the same Hyewon from your high school days that loved anything related to food.

You watched as the piece of meat slowly metamorphosed from a raw and inedible piece of meat to something irresistible.

Finally, it was time for you two to dig in. You reached out to grab the tongs and place the pieces of meat onto both of your plates.

Hyewon took the first bite with amazing speed as if it was a race. Her cheeks puffed up and just as quickly as she reached for it, she gasped for air. She made a fanning motion trying to get as much cold air in her mouth as possible. You offered her a drink to wash it down but she refused. She didn’t want her first bite to be diluted with alcohol.

“I know you want to savor it but… is this really the way?” you laughed as she stood up, trying to get even more air. It took a moment but she sat down soon after.

“Whew… That was an invigorating first bite.” She heaved.

“Yeah… Burning your mouth is definitely one way to feel alive and healthy,” you retorted. Concerned, you proposed a compromise to the hungry Hyewon. “Let’s eat some of the side dishes while we wait for it to cool, okay?”

“Fine…” her eyes downcast. The side dishes were quickly consumed, and it was, again, the time for the main dish.

You saw her all giddy and full of energy, making tiny quiet claps in anticipation—you couldn’t help but find it adorable. And for the rest of the main event, you found yourself constantly distracted by the amount of happiness Hyewon radiated with every bite. “So this is what parents feel like when they say that they can feel full just from watching their children eat,” you thought.

Some time passed by; conversations came and went, more pieces of meat were cooked and eaten, and drinks were poured and emptied.

“So… why did you major in architecture?” If it was any other person, it would’ve been difficult to discern what she just said. Hyewon’s cheeks were puffed up, trying to do two things at the same time—enjoy some food whilst talking to you.

“You know you shouldn’t talk with your mouth full right?” an awful attempt to change the topic. Her cheeks slowly deflated as the pork gradually melted inside her mouth. What should’ve been a good ten seconds, now became two. It was impossible for you to think of a response that fast—or at least an answer that would be believable enough. Running out of time, you deci— “Ok… so why did you major in architecture again?” she interrupted, her eyes lit up all proud and smug. Her face radiated like that of a golden retriever that just fulfilled its owner’s commands.

Your stream of consciousness wandered away. The numerous chatter, that once filled your ears, was now all muffled. The crackling fat on the grill found its way through the chatter to your ears, the aroma filled your nose. It was all so beautifully distracting.

“Hello??” her hand swatting the air in front of you, trying to get your attention. “Did you not he—” you stuffed her mouth with the last piece of pork. That should buy you some time.

You started to interrogate himself, “Why did I choose architecture again? Do they even make a lot of money?” subconsciously holding yourself away from the truth of it all.

Hyewon started chewing vigorously. The girl who always savored the last piece went out the window. The time that you bought yourself quickly ran out.

“Why didn’t she take her time with the last piece?!?!” you panicked.

“You do realize that that was the last piece right?” A pitiful last attempt to distract her from the topic at hand.

Her face quickly turned from one of eagerness and excitement to one of great disappointment. You saw her looking over the table, her eyes desperately panning left and right in search of leftovers. Sad to say, it truly was the last piece.

You saw her pouting—her face all scrunched up, hands clenched into a tight fist, her eyes downcast, and shoulders following the same trajectory—though unable to rid herself of her cute aura. You couldn’t take it seriously because of how large the contrast was, yet you knew the gravity of the situation. “Ehem…” you coughed, raising your hand in hopes of gathering the attention of an unoccupied waiter.

A good ten seconds passed by and you couldn’t help but be bothered by the daggers pointing behind your back. Wanting to correct the situation, you stood up—disregarding how you looked to everyone else—trying to get the waiters’ and waitresses’ attention.

“Could we get two more servings and some more drinks?” you said as you looked towards Hyewon, hoping to satisfy her. Arms crossed and lips pouted, she maintained her rigid and immovable stance. You knew she wouldn’t budge until you were actually able to replace what was taken away and then some. It took some time but she finally got around. Her once pouting face now held the crescent of the moon on her lips.

You reached out for the tongs once again and slowly distributed the meat onto their plates. Her face lit up every time he placed a piece onto her plate and drooped down every time you put one on yours. Noticing the small detail, you regretfully decided to just give the rest of the unclaimed pieces.

Her wide smile glistened, allowing the rest of her features to shine. She regained her radiance, the same radiance reflected onto him. And with the mood lifted by such a vibrant display, moments slipped by without notice.

Your hand interrupting the bustling atmosphere, you asked for the bill, to which a waitress arrived and gave, or so you thought. Another hand made its way to interrupt the waitress this time. The hand was delicate and graceful—slender fingers that tapered off into slender nails, wrists dainty yet strong and embraced by a simple hair tie. “I can pay. It was my idea anyway,” she protested. Fearing another fight, you decided to concede—but not entirely. The LED lights slowly crept in as the natural light slowly dispersed. “What if I offer to take her home?” you thought, “Hey—”

She interrupted, “You wanna drink some more?” presenting her hand.

She gathered her long locks of silky hair, “Wouldn’t want to be wasted so far from home do ya?” Her fingers worked gracefully—twisting and looping the hair into a tight bun, leaving some lengths untied for a slightly disheveled look.

“So… are you gonna take my hand or what?” She swiped the stray lock of hair from her face. Not missing a heartbeat, you took her hand—the very same hand you admired just a few minutes ago. To your surprise, her fingers intertwined with yours—an intimate and romantic gesture—but you had not a single clue if it held any meaning. Hyewon always had a problem with personal space and physical touch. “So this is what those boys, who confessed to her, felt.”

The cobwebs of your heart were slowly getting woven away. “Is this right? Am I allowed to feel like this?” The invisible vice grip returned, ever so slightly tightening in your solar plexus. To what should’ve been butterflies in your stomach, were the rotten cocoons all knotted up.

You shook your head in discord of your own thoughts. “Yeah… there’s no way. We literally just met again after all these years.” Hyewon pulled you by your hands outside, oblivious to your thoughts.

“Where exactly are we going?” you stopped in your tracks, forcing her to break her pace.

“Don’t worry about it,” she chuckled, “Did you always ask these many questions?” She tugged on you again, “Now, come on!” Forcing an exhale out of him, “Fine!”

Flashback end…

“Wake up you lovebirds!!” The driver yelled inside the now empty bus. Eyelids still heavy, everything slowly came into focus—your head resting on Hyewon’s. Somehow still asleep, “What the hell…? Is she a light drinker?” you carried her to her unit.

“Don’t tell me her keys fell out…” the slight jingle when exiting the bus replayed in your mind. Not wanting to leave her out in the open, you took her a floor down to your apartment.

Light. Your hands behind her knees, her breasts pressing onto you. You find yourself conscious of her braless venture with the way you felt her tits plunge itself, in its erectness, on your back; sending waves of sensation to and from your back.

You lay her down on the couch, dripping water all over the place. “How the fuck am I supposed to dry all of this?” Scratching your head, you began to unbutton your polo.

A hand slithers its way from the back of your shoulders to your abs—the finger tracing the definition of your muscles, leisurely admiring it. “I can’t believe your ex is missing out on this,” the girl whispers into your ears.

Earning a well-deserved shove, “Get the fuck off me! I’m letting this go just because you’re drunk.”

“Or what?” her voice alluring, tempting a reaction out of you.

A pinch to your temple—trying to hold yourself back, letting out an extended exhale, “I swear— say one more word and I’m gonn—”

A flash of light glared through the window—exposing her naked body, her transparent midnight dress gripping tightly—followed by a roaring thunder.

Don’t look. Your head turned away, you don’t see her approach you. A turn back and you’re greeted by her face, not a foot further—her face tilted, awaiting a reaction out of you. Eyes downcast, you’re taller than her, stronger than her, and yet it feels as though she has you under her grasp. She grabs your chin, “What now?” The water in her clothes weighed it down, slowly showing off more and more of her chest.

You grab Hyewon’s wrist, causing her lips to quiver. A twist and a turn, like that of a ballerina, you switch places. You trap her between your body and the wall, her hand forced by your own against it. “So you can take charge~” her voice trailed off.

“Fuck this.” You let go of her hand, the gentleness absent. You’re not falling for anything at this point. It’s clear she wants to rile you up… but why?

“It’s been six months right? Six months of no action too, I presume?” you see what she’s getting at.

“Was it all planned? Was that innocent display a lie?”

“Does that matter? I know you want me,” her finger peeling back her lower lip, “I’ve seen the way your eyes stare at me.”

“You’re not getting what you want, you know that right? I don’t know why I thought this shit would work,” you wave her off.

“I always get what I want~” approaching you ever so slowly. “Isn’t that right?” her hands curling behind your neck.

You prove her right—you lean in for a kiss, her hands pull on your hair, “Where did all that bravado go? Guess you were a bad boyfriend huh?”

You lift her by her waist, her body draping over your shoulders as you throw her onto the bed, not without a single smirk curling up her mouth, “There it is… there’s the man I want.”

“You fucking whore,” your fists clenching, “You think you can just come in here and do what you want? You don’t deserve any of that lovey-dovey shit.”

“Oh~ trust me. I don’t want any of that.” Hyewon crawls with no care in the world, her eyes focused on your bulge. Fuck. She lacks manners, lacks grace—her eyes completely bewitched. To her, you are her food for the night. Her teeth skillfully peels your underwear, revealing your cock. “Ooooh, big, veiny.” How phallic.

And suddenly, her grace comes back—the sultry grace of sucking your cock. She swallows it all in one dive. There’s no beauty behind it all, or at least there shouldn’t be. There was something hypnotic about how she stared at you with your cock in her lips.

Look down and all you can see is her disheveled hair with your hands gripping to the shape of her head. A subtle force keeps her plunging deeper and deeper to no end. Her tongue swirls around your cock, rubbing all over the veins, not leaving a spot untouched. Her nose plugged, her other senses heightened itself to that of a supernatural level. She feels you through the veins of your cock lodged in her throat, every throb and every pulse. She reads you completely—you weren’t thinking with your brain after all.

Not enough. You push her head deeper, her nose plunging deeper into your pelvis. Hyewon’s sultry grace disappears, “WAI-” The silent apartment, now resonates with the sinful sounds struggling out of her throat. “HMMMF!” her hands slamming onto your thigh. “Choke on it!” you punch it in. The walls of her throat begin to collapse, tightening. A cough, or so it should have been but instead she choked more on your cock, clearly too much for her to handle, the length forcing its way down even more.

Release. She pushes back, gasping for air. She needs oxygen and you deprived her of it. “I’m not done with you,” you grab her head and force your cock deep down her throat again.

“Stop, stop, stop! I can’t fucking bre- GOUHK!” A galore of drool seeped out the corners of her mouth, dripping down onto the already wet sheets. “Fuck you,” Hyewon slurs, this time you pull on hair. The constant bobbing continues, though not of her own volition. You press her head onto your pelvis one last time, this one stronger than all the others. Your spine buckles down—the same amount of force one would put when opening the lid of a jar, arms tensing and veins appearing—you unload onto the walls of her throat. The goopy, thick liquid forcing its way down to her stomach. Unable to take it all in, she pushes you away and coughs up the rest. You go along with it, feeling your load force its way out.

Hyewon lays down on her back, gasping for air, occasionally coughing up your cum like a broken water fountain.

“H-Holy shit… I almost died there.” Hyewon exaggerates as her fingers pull on the corners of her mouth, widening the moist entrance to show the masterpiece you created within her velvety walls—clumps of white semen sticking to her uvula, semen blending in with her ivory-like teeth.

“You’re not a one-hit wonder are you? If you were then I’d understand why she left you,” another remark looking to irk something inside of you. You pull on her ankles, “Ow! You could be much kinder to a lady like me, you know?” The sarcasm in her voice telling you she doesn’t give a shit about your feelings and your past.

Rip her dress off, “Fuck you! That was expensive.”

“You think I fucking care?” You shoot out a glare so flat it cuts the air.

“Oh~ I know you don’t,” she giggles, “Now fuck me like the slut I am will you?”

You twist her body—her back now facing you. Her hands unfolding her pussy, making way for your cock. A plunge deep inside, “Oh… fuck~ You’re so fucking tight.” Her plush flesh tightens around you. Hyewon’s hands are busy trying to keep herself sane—grasping at the sheets, almost ripping them.

“Yeah~ Just like that… daddy,” she turns around. You greet her face with a slap, earning a yelp. “I’m so fucking trashy right?” You hear the smirk in her voice.

“You’re not fucking learning are you?” her hair brutally balled up into your fists. Pull tighter—her back arching. Pull tighter—your other arm now putting her into a chokehold. You thrust into her, vehemently, without a single care. You have full control now. Let go of her hair and palm her abs, feeling your cock swell through.

“FUCKKKK!” She tries her best to push your arm away, “Fuckin- Stop! Stop pressing on it! YOU"RE GONNA RIP ME IN HALF!” She claws at your chokehold, trying her very best to get out. Fuck that’s hot.

It’s the way she surrenders every part of her body as you fuck the living shit out of her—well, it’s not like she has a say in the matter. You push her into any position you want. Manipulate her like a doll, existing purely for your pleasure.

The whines, the slurring of her voice, all of it so enthralling to hear. You feel her saliva drip onto your arms. You thrust harder than the last with every incomplete sentence coming out of her filthy mouth. With every incoherent word, your cock throbs. Every single moan now a glass-breaking scream. You’re piling on noise complaints. Harder. You’re really in it now—in her—almost fucking her ten crimes deep before you can relish in your high. The knot in your stomach is slowly unravelling, the floodgates are about to open. You’re remolding her into your toy—if only she wasn’t the one playing with your emotions but who cares, you were having the time of your life. Another rip-roaring scream, the last one. Now, everything that came out of her mouth was nothing else but a low grumble, her voice box pushed to its very limits.

Hyewon’s nails dig deep into your arms, “Ahm- I’M PEEING!” Her muscles contracting, her hips buckling. Your cock following the trajectory. She’s on her toes. You feel the warm fluid trickling down your thighs. You don’t let up; in fact, you squeeze tighter.

The whites of her eyes take over as they roll back in her head. A hand free, you go further. You mask her with your hand, her grumbles struggling through it. Every moan, every groan. You feel her depleting energy, channeled by her voice, propagating through your very veins.

Fall in love with the idea of sophistication, the assumption of carnal layers peeled back, to reveal the sin of lust inside such a person, peeled back one by one.

Take away a sapien. You were stripping her down to her very core, diluting it. Primitive. With pure instinctual fucking, you were singlehandedly reverting her DNA millennium’s back.

You free Hyewon from your clutches.

What a masterpiece to behold! Her body lays on the mattress—limp, almost lifeless. A quiver then and there easing your worries. Your floodgates open, you unload on her back—ropes of semen shooting out—marking her as yours. It fits her so well, almost like a back tattoo (but made of cum). The liquids making a cocktail in the sheets.

Your heart is beating out of your chest. You aren’t satisfied… yet. Your fingertips dig into her cheeks, “Fucking weak slut. All that talk for nothing.” Hyewon’s gaze is cloudy, she isn’t even staring at you. She’s drunk-dazed, almost jaded. You slap her face with your cock, “Wake up, bitch! We aren’t done!”

It’s a bit too late for some foreplay but here you are, rubbing her cunt vigorously. Are you starting a fire? One thing’s certain, her nerves are burning and you’re warming her up—her erogenous zones. Preparing them for the experience they’re about to go through.

Finger her. Your fingers—three to be exact—make their way through the ruined walls, like an explorer finding the ruins of ancient civilization. You feel some precum sticking to her walls. You bottom out, reaching the furthest your hand could go. You curl your finger in a come-hither motion, jerking it in a disorderly, primal manner. No techniques. It’s the pure girth of your fingers stimulating her G-spot, almost clawing at her walls, her body quivers with the slightest touch.

Hyewon, still unconscious, her body declares its sign of life with every single convulsion.

You don’t limit yourself. Your other hand making its way to her ass. What is meant to be a delicate spot—throw that out the window—you go at it with intensity. Rather than curling your fingers, you put pressure on the walls of her ass, working it in a circular motion—stirring it in its chaotic mess.

The obligatory orgasm, and when it eventually does come, like a dopamine hit, is thrilling and satisfying but for no more than a few fleeting moments but that’s all you need.

Her back arching, pelvis thrusting the air, her arms reaching for the ceiling, palms spreading to its very limit. Her liquids squirts all over your hand. You send an electric charge coursing through her veins, essentially resuscitating her, “HOLY SHITTT- LET ME TAKE A BREAK! PLEASE! DADDY! PLEASE! TOO MUCH! IT’S TOO MUCH! I’M CUMM-” Hyewon’s last words before passing out again. Her body crumples on the bed—her body in shambles, almost droopy.

A deafening silence fills the room, the only thing you can hear are your weary breaths. You just finished but are you finished? You look back, the view unlike any other. She’s a tool and nothing more. And despite looking pristine just moments ago—like a flower untouched, the color white personified—her body says otherwise.

How sinful. How tempting. She’s all that and she knows it. Hyewon may think she’s a devil but you beg to differ. A fallen angel you’d say. It’s almost artistic as to how much she encapsulates it without knowing so. The innocence remains the same, unaware of her surroundings and herself. Is lust a sin? You hear the moans reverberate from the upper floor. The normality of it all hits you. It’s an innocent sin. There’s no point overthinking. Enjoy yourself… just like Hyewon just now. You needed it, the release. “You could have been a lot kinder about your words, you know?” you give her a spank, blood vessels squeezing, your hands imprinting itself.

“You knew I was awake?” she looks back, struggling to sit herself up—her arms weak from what you just put her through. You lay beside her. “Yah!” You put her in your arms, this one a tender embrace.

Hyewon tucks her head under your neck, her finger tracing circles on your pecs, “Just so you know, I’m not taking back what I said. I don’t know her but she’s a bitch.”

You let out a chuckle as your fingers run through her hair, almost massaging her scalp. “Are you trying to score some good guy points now?” she looks up, her eyes devoid of ulterior motives.

“Is it working?” your other hand makes its way under her chin, caressing it.

Her lips quiver, resisting the urge to smile. “No,” she says as she hides her face away, pressing them onto your abs.

“Let’s get up by the way, your liquids are everywhere,” you punctuate.

You get off the bed, helping her on the way up, “I didn’t rough you up too bad, did I?”

An attempt to prove you wrong, she smacks your hand away, rejecting any form of help. “I’m an independent woman,” she says all smugly.

“Oh yeah?” you give her the side-eye, your fingers point toward her legs, “Is there an earthquake right now? You’re wobbling like crazy.”

“Fuck you,” she says just to immediately use your body as support. She looks up to see your smug face, “I hate you, you know that?”

“Your body sure doesn’t say so. But I still can’t believe you did all that… for me,” you grab onto her shoulders, standing her straight.

“I did all that for you—your cock all right? Don’t get it twisted,” you twist her body, then carrying her like a princess, “Yah! Put me down!”

“Or what?” you lean in closer, almost biting her ear. It sends shivers across her body, you feel the way her body just shivered, “You’re turned on again, aren’t you?” Met with silence, the sensation of wetness on your arm serves as her answer, “Just… don’t say those things next time, okay?”

“Who says there’s gonna be a next time?” shuffling in your arms.

“I did,” you give a light kiss on her forehead, “You were just lucky I gave in to you this time.”

“And if I don’t stop talking shit about your ex?” she crosses her arms.

“Then I’ll make sure you’ll be the one to give in,” you carry her towards the bathroom.

“Well… she’s a bitch,” you give her a glare, “Now, teach me a lesson in the shower will you?”

A/N: Hello!! I finally got this out! It took longer than I wanted since I got sick, and I just couldn't write properly. I got some more time now so hit me with some asks/requests. I might do them... but what's for sure is another fic before February ends. -🔎

#kpop gg #idol x male reader #kpop smut #izone smut #kang hyewon #hyewon smut #kpop fanfic #male reader #kang hyewon smut #girl group smut #smut #light angst

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k0juki · 3 months

Note

Pleaseee…please write something with ski aggu…we’re starving vro⛩️

He is so fckng fine ❤️😏

Friends don't do that

Ski Aggu x reader

English is not my first language, so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors! Also the picture is not mine! Credit goes to owner! Not edited!

A/n: little midnight surprise 💙

Wc: 1.2k

---

Being in the same friend group with a person you absolutely adore and can't take your eyes off, is really, really hard. And it's even worse when that person is your best friend, Aggu. He is simply gorgeous.

Sometimes it was hard to watch him interact with so many women and men. They threw themselves at him, but you couldn't blame them. Who wouldn't do that?

"Are you jealous?" You asked, as the unwanted stranger left after Aggu remarked that you didn't want to grab some drinks with that guy. You were at some lame party and this guy was trying to know you a bit, but he didn't stand a chance. There was Aggu to stop that.

"What? Me? No, never." He muttered and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you more into his side. It was strange to see him like that. To keep you by his side all the time. Keeping you to himself, but you didn't mind at all. You were glad that it was you who he wanted beside him and not some random person.

"Hmm, right. So you wouldn't mind if I'll go get something to drink, right?" You knew you caught him here. Maybe he wasn't jealous, but he still didn't want you to leave him. Without other questions you stood up, but before you could go anywhere, Aggu asked you.

"Where are you going?"

"Just to the toilet, don't worry. I'm not going to that weirdo." You loved to mess with him. To rile him up a little.

"Oh, okay."

As you disappeared from their sights, Joost immediately turned to look at his friend and said.

"Man, you're smitten." Joost remarked, smirking. Seeing how his friend was acting around you.

"What are you talking about?" His red face and ears were a sign that he was lying.

Joost knew that. On the other hand, he hoped that he will make a move and told you as soon as possible. If he won't, there will always be someone who will do that.

"C'mon don't pretend, well, at least not in front of me."

Aggu sighed and rubbed his forehead with his hand, obviously in distress. He knew he couldn't keep something like that a secret. "Is it that obvious?"

"For me? Yes, it is."

"Shit."

"You gotta tell her. She won't be single forever..." Joost urged, and he was right.

"I know, but what if I'm not her type? Or she'll say something like I wanna stay friends, sorry." This sentence really scared him. He would rather be forever friends with you, then destroying something that could be one-sided.

"She won't. She's literally just as smitten as you are." Joost insisted, trying to calm him down.

But before Aggu could say something, you came back with a smile on your pretty face. You sat back down in your seat next to Aggu. He wrapped his arm back around your shoulders, as it was before.

"What were you guys talking about?" You innocently asked and looked at Aggu, then at Joost and then back at Aggu. Feeling him tense a bit, you frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry." He answered with a dry laugh and rubbed his hand on your shoulder in resurance.

You gave him a strange look, but didn't ask more. If he wanted to tell you something, then he would. "Okay...but why are you both acting so weird?"

"We're not." They answered at the same time. Aggu sent a warning look to Joost. Telling him to stop it, immediately.

You spent the rest of the evening in Aggu's and Joost's company. But the longer you stayed here, in the center of the party, the more you wanted to go home. It was getting too noisy and you didn't want your head hurt that much the next day.

"Are you okay?" Aggu asked, realizing how quiet you became.

"Yeah, my head just hurts a bit from that loud music."

"Do you wanna go home?"

You just nodded your head yes. Feeling tired all of sudden.

Aggu didn't need to be told twice. You and him said your goodbyes to Joost and left.

You knew he wouldn't leave you alone, so there wasn't even a point in persuading him to stay at the party.

"It was fine. I'm glad I went." You told him, sending a smile his way. He returned the gesture, sending you one right back.

"Yeah, me too."

Normally you didn't mind that awkward silence, but this time it felt different. Like both of you wanted to say something, but neither of you could bring yourself to say it.

"Do you, perhaps, want to sleep over at my place tonight?" Aggu asked and reached his hand for yours.

"Yeah, I would like that." You answered him and took his hand. Many times before you had slept over his place. Because that's what best friends do, right? They are everywhere together. They do everything together.

---

"I prepared some clothes for you to change into."

"Thank you Aggu." You took his clothes from him and made your way to the bathroom to shower and then change.

He gave you one of his boxers and white shirt with Bambi on it. It is one of your favourite ones, and he knows that. It was too big for you, but you really didn't mind, it smelled like him. Maybe that's why you liked it that much.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and thought how you actually ended up here. In this situation.

Sighing, you left the bathroom and noticed that Aggu was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at his phone. When he noticed you, he put his phone down. He had to say that he loved to see you in nothing, but his clothes.

"Aggu." You said with a small smile as he kept on staring.

"Aggu." Still nothing, but you could see how his mouth was turning up to a little smile.

"Aggu." You looked down on your feet, feeling hot in the face as he was staring at you.

"I love when you say my name."

You raised your head and made eye contact with him. He was looking right into your eyes.

"You do?"

"I do."

He stood up and made his way towards you. Still holding eye contact, neither of you breaking it. Stepping closer, he carefully put his hands on your hips and said.

"Friends don't look at each other like we do..."

"And we are friends?" You asked, looking into his eyes.

"I'm hoping to be something more..." Aggu admitted. Waiting for your protests, but you didn't say anything.

You put your left hand on the back of his neck, softly running your fingers through the ends of his hair and other hand on his jaw. Leaning closer to him, but keeping safe distance if he didn't want to kiss you back.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked and licket his lips. His focus full on you. "One little kiss won't change our friendship, right?"

"Yeah, you're probably right."

He leaned in and kissed you.

His hands that were on your hips pulled you closer. He pushed you against the cold wall behind you, making goosebumps swarm all over your body. He traced your curves with his hands as he deepened the kiss, nibbling on your lower lip. Your hands gripped the back of his head, as his hands squeezed and teased you, as you moaned into the kiss.

You break apart after a few seconds. A smile on both of your faces as you breathed.

"I love that taste of you." Aggu admitted and dipped his head lower and started kissing your neck. "I love it.”

---

Don't copy or translate my work!

#k0juki's stuff 🩷#x reader #ski aggu x reader #ski aggu #ski aggu x you #ski aggu x fem!reader #x female!reader #x gn!reader #joost klein x reader #joost klein #joost klein x fem!reader #August Jean Diederich #August Jean Diederich x reader

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a-bright-comet · 3 months

Text

Jade Shadows Thoughts

(NOTICE: I have edited this post after a few days and many lovely replies and tags giving me more insight and opinions, overall my view of this quest has gotten a lot more positive, thank you all <3) okaaayyyy I am utterly rattled rn lmao also made the mistake of looking at tumblr after doing the quest and as expected it seems to be a 50/50 of hating or loving it. so here are my personal thoughts, I am a little scared but talk seems to be civil thankfully. I can definitely agree on the sentiment that this quest needed more time, cause let's be honest the people hating this quest wouldn't be jumping to the things they're jumping to if Jade herself got more screen-time before the big drop, warframe's style has always been vague and never 100% straight-forward and I think that unfortunately hurt it a bit this time, as what they didn't show came off wrong to many people and while I sorta see why I disagree on some parts. I also feel like the quest kinda got a bit *too* hyped both by DE and the fanbase's theories, way too short, it deserved and needed to be a bit longer for it's special narrative. Jade kinda got a weird spot, both being the main focus alongside Stalker but also hardly explored. But let's be honest, most of the negativity is caused by this outside-circumstance alone. Now, what I absolutely disagree with is people insisting that DE was trying to say "bodily autonomy bad" or that Stalker didn't care about her and only the child, thing is I thought it was pretty fucking clear that she *wanted* the child in what little was shown and she was going to die no matter the outcome (thanks to the orokin to absolutely no one's surprise) and Stalker in his guilt for all she's done for him wanted to make sure that he at least kept this one promise to Her, cause She wanted it. she still had bodily autonomy in the fact She wanted this, she wanted the child no matter what. and she wanted stalker to protect her and the kid. And he did, like a true loving partner. DE has a long track record of being very autonomy-positive. A point they make time and time again is that ripping it away is *bad* and horrifying, the quest is a bittersweet tragedy, not a horror. Honestly there would be 0 issue if DE had given us a Jade-only quest before this one, I personally would've preferred it as well, she's cool as hell she deserves it. who knows maybe DE will see all of this and make prequel quests? we can only hope. I do not want to assume the worst of anyone or anything cause that's a miserable existence. Look I personally enjoyed the quest and get the feeling whoever wrote it did it out of some personal experience or sorrow, that's at least the vibe I got. It's a tragedy, but her choice was seen till the end, many women choose to still have a child despite knowing they won't make it, many also don't, that's why choice is important. and she did, she chose her child that she was having while likely forcibly infested and turned into a warframe. (also remember there are women on the team who likely looked at this.) there are some other iffy parts of the quest, (really should've been the drifter instead of the operator if they were gonna do that, but that's personal discomfort.) but overall I enjoyed it and open to explore the implications of a born-warframe-child and Stalker healing as they both grow together. These are my thoughts, and I can understand why people like or dislike this quest, but I think it's fine and just ended up in a very unfortunate spot due to outside circumstances beyond it's control. (sorry if any of this comes off as aggressive it is not my intention despite how riled I am by some folk online, I disagree with you but I do not hate you, I don't even know you.)

Her choice, His promise, Their light.

Thank you for reading my first ever text post about something I care about, not sure I'll be doing this again any time soon out of anxiety lol (Edit: and thanks to everyone responding to this post wonderfully, ya'll are great and have lessened my anxiety and have made me appreciate this quest more <3)

#warframe #jade shadows #jade shadows spoilers #this not meant to start discourse btw #just wanted to drop the weight off my mind before i explode #warframe encourages people to put pieces together and come up with things on their own so lets please be nice

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d1s1ntegrated · 1 month

Note

I just read your shigaraki fic with him stealing readers clothes and

First: loved it he’s such a little freak and I love him

Second: part 2? Maybe where reader goes into his rooms well he’s doing his thing with our clothes and gets caught red handed and just pretty much braces down and reader doms him or something I don’t know I just think a part 2 where reader walks in on him doing it would be fun

I’m sorry if this is against any rules you have you can ignore if you want

Im just an idiot 🙃 ok goodbye

shhhhh ur not an idiot and this is hot af so YASS

laundry pile (nsfw)

tomura x fem!reader

tags: stealing clothes, masturbation, stalker behavior, heavy petting, dacryphilia, p/v pen, swearing, degradation, dom/sub dynamic implied, fem reader, hardcore smut, light comfort, sub/switch! tomura, humiliation, oral (m&f rec)

A/N: i'm getting caught up on my asks finally 🫶 so sorry for the weird inactivity i love u all! also this isn't proofread sorry ill prob edit it later lol!

"For fucks sake" you threw your door open in frustration, storming down the hall to Shigaraki's room. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the worst. You didn't really want to ask him of all people, but you were desperate and flustered now.

You knock gently, and before hearing him respond, you turn the handle.

"Hey, Shigaraki, have you seen my-" You open the door of Tomura's room prematurely, the light knocking not alerting him fast enough as he scrambles to yank his covers over him.

"SHIT, fucking, GET THE FUCK OUT," the man's voice heightens in pitch with every word, straining to speak. He's gripping his blanket with four white knuckles, ring finger held above the blue fabric. His hands shake and beads of sweat are flattening his fringe to his forehead, and his breathing even from the doorway looks erratic. It's no mistake, you walked in at the wrong time. Your jaw hangs open slightly at the image of him and begin backing up slightly.

"I'm sorry, I'll...well, while I'm here," you start with a sheepish smile, "have you seen my black sweater? The one with the..." Your fingers twiddle around as you describe the well-loved garment, and he groans.

"...No," he wipes his hair from his face, "Go ask the girls."

"Sorry. Yeah, I'll do that." You reach for the door handle with a curt nod, and turn to head out, when something catches your eye. On the floor, next to a pile of used towels and dirty laundry, you notice the familiar lace trim, a delicate pink bow...

You reach for the piece as Tomura shoots up on his bed, still covering himself. "What are you doing??" His voice is anxious, and as you come back up, you hang the fabric delicately between your fingers in front of him.

"Are these my fucking underwear?" With a fire hot enough to burn his room to the ground, you storm closer to him, standing over him now with fierce eyes, able to really take in the sight of him now. His eyes are heavier than usual, his back flexed and his arms tense against his chest as he plasters the sheet against his snowy skin. He looks up at you with a feverish glint, avoiding contact with the skimpy bottoms hanging in front of his face. He shakes his head, unable to speak.

The sheet leaves little to the imagination, as you look him up and down in his bed. You bite back your rage as you notice a strap peeking out from under one of his pillows, and you shove him back and lean over to yank it out from underneath. Your pink bralette, that you could've sworn you lost for good, was now in your hands, waving dangerously close to Tomura. With wide eyes, he gives the equivalent look to a dog who got caught with a slipper. Cowering was a new look for him. As you stare him down, you notice the sheet twitching, an unmistakable silent pleading. Your face, now mere inches above his, sends his heart sprinting out of his body.

If it weren't for your discovery, it would've been almost...charming, to see him like this. Lips pink and puffy, as if they'd been bitten raw, and the remarkable sheen of sweat and lust glazing his scarred face. A heavy breath, halfway to climax and halfway to anxiety attack. You couldn't tell if he was turned on or terrified at this point. Your mind preferred the latter, but somewhere deep inside, you liked the idea of the former.

There was also something already charming about his actions. Your clothes were scattered all around him, around his room. Part of you felt enthralled by the idea of your fearsome leader, your boss, the dangerous villain doing something as depraved and perverted as stealing your clothes. Especially after all of the shit you guys fought about, how many times he told you to fuck off and that he couldn't stand you. It was like an unwritten confession, and it made your heart flutter for a moment. You stood there, thinking about what he was doing to them exactly, with a frivolous process. It didn't take much for your mind to conclude the thought, knowing you just caught him doing precisely what you could have imagined with them. It felt almost elementary to catch him in the act of something so vulgar, and despite your scornful expression, you had to fight the instinctual curling of your lips.

"What else do you have of mine?" You kept your face flat, curiosity driving you further. He shrank down a moment before raising a shaky arm towards his door.

"Close that, please" his brows furrowed as you both looked toward the wide-open door, giving whoever walked by a full view of the situation. You padded towards it and slammed it closed, locking it behind you before re-approaching him with the same fervor as before. You toss the two garments at him and ask him again.

"What else did you steal from me?"

He swallowed and took a deep breath before raising his hand up in defeat, "I'm sorry". His eyes glossed over as he looked away, blinking rapidly. He lifted the pillow behind him and began removing things from the pile of things. Multiple pairs of underwear, two bras, three shirts, a pair of lounge shorts, and a few random socks. Your jaw dropped as he handed them to you, sniffling with embarrassment and disturbance. You shook your head slowly, partially in awe and disbelief. How did he even manage...and why? How long had he been doing it for? Your mind raced as you compiled everything at the edge of his bed. He sat there dejected as you counted everything.

"Fourteen. FOURTEEN things of mine. Just under your pillow. What, why?? Where else do you hide it all? Is this where all my clothes have gone?" Your voice rises in frustration and confusion as he falters.

He shakes his head and quavers, with the smallest voice you've ever heard from him.

"I don't know. I'm sorry". He shows remorse, no doubt. But the movement underneath the thin sheet doesn't help to convince you of his guilt. Some part of him likes the fact he was caught, surely. It's easy to see it, with the faint flush of his complexion.

You lean down more and lift his face with a finger on his chin, directing his eyes to meet yours. You don't say anything, which scares him more than anything. At any point, you could run out of his room, screaming about how he was a freak, or a coward, or a stalker. Even him, your notorious leader, was scared of being exposed so viscerally. You recognize this, his crimson eyes welling with shameful tears as you look into them.

You wanted to be so angry. You wanted to be disgusted, freaked out, and you wanted to hate him. You could let him being murderous slide, but being a loser? It boiled your blood. But you couldn't tear yourself away from his wet gaze, the tears falling heavily now as you gripped his chin between thumb and forefinger. He didn't pull away, either, he just accepted his loss. There were so many reasons why you should hate him.

But you don't, you realize, as you lean in and pull him into a hungry kiss. His lips are rough, but wet with tears as you press yours into them. Maybe it was pity, maybe it's because you know he's pent up and stressed out and most certainly a virgin. It's possible he just needs comfort. Perhaps you're encouraging him, and for all you know, maybe you like that.

You stop yourself from thinking and just let your body move. You push him back, taking his hands away from the iron grip on the sheets and lifting them above his head. He doesn't argue, and complacently loosens his body with a light whimper as you touch him. You climb onto his lap, still pinning his arms down as you snake your tongue into his mouth. He tastes so sweet, so addicting. It was unlike anything you could describe, like apple and spices and sweet mint. You cave in to him, allowing yourself to feel the rush of endorphins swell in your core. Your mind goes blank as you feel his length between your legs, twitching and jumping like an eager animal.

You finally pull away from the kiss, only to bite down his scarred neck and shoulder.

"You're a fucking thief" you say between bites, and he whimpers.

"I know" he shakes as you sink your teeth in. He groans out as you bite down harder at his response.

"You're a fucking freak" you spit. He nods, trembling.

"I'm sorry" he cries out as you sink your canines into him.

"You like that, hm? You like being a sick fuck?" you tighten your grip on his wrists.

His whimpers and moans drive you crazy. You fight the urge to take him all at once, even if it tortures you as well. Your lips curl sadistically as you lick his wounds, tongue grazing over not only the bites, but the torn skin of his neck from his incessant scratching. The faint taste of blood stings in your mouth, the metallic fragrance soaking your senses. You feel your core liquify as tears spill from his eyes, the thick lashes sticking together. He sobs, clenching his jaw.

"Please, I can't take it". His heavy breaths buckle in his chest, and you bring your free hand up to caress his face.

"You're so pretty like this, Tomura" your voice is slick with hunger, a newfound lust from hearing his pathetic noises. He blinks up at you in a daze, his pupils blown wide as you release your grip on his wrists.

"Please" he whispers, and you laugh.

"Please what? You seriously think you're getting rewarded? For being a fucking pervert?"

Tomura bites his lip and shakes his head.

"No, I'm sorry".

It was a sight to behold. Your fearsome leader, now crumbling beneath you, begging to be touched. Pleading for forgiveness, admitting fault with fat tears soaking his cheeks. Everything you swore he would never be capable of, he was doing. And it made you feel so powerful. It was well overdue- someone eventually would've put him in his place- you just never thought it'd be you to do it.

You retreat from his lap, standing swiftly. You watch his face fall a bit, then relight as you slide your top and bottoms off, leaving you standing nearly naked in front of him. His eyes soak in the image of you, his hands clenching. You reach for the sheet and yank it off of him, finally, to expose his naked body completely.

His cock stands proud, already leaking and throbbing as you grab it. He gasps, the air hitching in his chest as your thumb slides down the tip, admiring his length as you squeeze it gently.

"You're such a desperate little bitch," you start demeaning him further, fingers trailing to wrap around his balls. He mewls as you continue, "I always knew you were a pathetic loser".

His cock convulses as you speak, and you lose you patience. You take him in your mouth, pressing your tongue flatly against the thickness. You graze your teeth against the sensitive skin, and he hisses out a string of curses. You speed up, fingers still teasing him with lazy tugs. You reach underneath and press two fingers against the untouched skin, massaging it gently. The action causes him to clench his fists mindlessly against the sheets, and they immediately disintegrate into nothingness. He grumbles out a "Fuck", but is swiftly redirected back to the multitude of sensations below. You laugh, his thick cock still in your mouth, and he throws his head back. He begins mindlessly thrusting into your throat, causing you to choke a bit on the size of him. He spreads his legs open further as you massage the neglected spot, clearly enjoying the newly discovered sensitivity.

Before he can finish, and god is he dangerously close to doing so, you pull off of him. He groans and silently begs for more, but you shake your head and get back on top of him.

"You think I'm doing this for your enjoyment? You owe me, not the other way around." you spew out. "It's my turn, loser."

He doesn't have time to argue it as you slide your underwear off and bring yourself to his face. You speak, knowing his can't respond, enjoying his compliance. "Have you ever done this before? No? Hm..." You chuckle out sinfully as his mouth falls wide, dragging his tongue up your dripping cunt to your clit. "Do a good job, and maybe then I'll let you have more."

He's clearly inexperienced, the way his tongue explores your folds and curves, but he's starving regardless. He presses his tongue deeply into you, moaning at the taste as you grind against his mouth. He gains confidence as he grips your hips with a four-fingered grip, keeping his pinkies as far as anatomically possible from your soft skin. He kneads his slender fingers into the fat of your hips and ass, his nails digging in as his tongue picks up speed. After a minute or two adjusting, he's eating you like a dog, licking and sucking and nipping at everything he can, with a determination previously unseen. It feels unforgettable, the way his teeth graze your clit and his tongue licks at you like you're candy. The poor depraved man laying under you, finally graced with the taste of you he's only ever had in dreams. You tasted much better than the underwear he stole. It felt holy now, so dirty and urgent that it felt like prayer.

You can't avoid the hastily approaching orgasm as he flicks his tongue on the throbbing bundle of nerves. You grind down on his face, coating his mouth and chin with your heat as he sends you over the edge. You drive your hips down, nearly suffocating him, as you clench and shiver on his face. You can feel him panting and smiling and swallowing every drop of your climax thankfully, which sends you even further.

When you finally come crashing down, you pull off of him and slide back down his chest and position him right in front of your needy hole. But you can't give into him just yet. It's his punishment, not reward, to fuck you and please you and make you cum.

He looks positively elated, his pupils still swallowing his ruby irises and his hair tangled around his pretty face. He's smiling, with a tired breath, but he's nowhere near done. He's completely aware of his consequences.

"Good boy, Tomu" you praise him with a gentle kiss on the cheek, his face still soaked from you. He smiles a bit more, but is still silent as you continue, "I almost forgive you for being such a disgusting slut".

He nods and silently mouths out an "okay". You trail a finger up his jaw and press a kiss to it. But his response isn't enough for you. You want more, you want to press the subject deeper before allowing him to have something so sacred.

"Tell me, pretty freak; why did you steal my clothes?"

He takes a moment to bite his lip, looking away as he responds. "I like to".

Not good enough. "And?" you pry.

"It...feels good. To smell you. And taste you. It feels so good..." he bleats out pitifully, and you can't help but feel a little bit enamored at his answer.

"Yeah? Was it worth it?" You tilt your head slightly, loving his plaintive admissions.

He nods and smiles, "Definitely".

Tomura's slight defiance stirs something inside of you. At the end of the day, he always gets what he wants. And if he wanted to steal your clothes, soil them with a weeks worth of cum, he fucking would. He did. He wasn't an entirely too demanding person, but he was, at his core, determined to have everything he wants. Including you, in every way he can.

You can't wait any longer as you take his length inside of you. You gasp out a bit at the size, feeling it stretch your walls with a burning sensation. He immediately moans out, unable to even slightly quiet down as he feels how wet you are around him.

"You're so fucking tight," he cries, and you clench around him, causing him to spasm a bit. His eyes roll back and he begins thrusting into you from below, the friction driving you crazy. "You feel just like I imagined" he confesses, words heavy with desire.

You grind into him as he thrusts, both rutting against each other fervidly. The tuft of baby blue hair drags a bit against your clit and you can't help as his name spills from your lips like honey.

"Fuck, Tomura, you're so big" you lewdly cry out as he grips you again. His cock slams against your cervix, sliding in and out of your entrance rapidly. His moans and whimpers become intangible, a never-ending slew of crude noises just leaking from his pretty pink lips. You nearly forget being angry, you throw your inhibitions to the side, because it feels far too good to not focus on entirely. The way he whines and keens melts you like the sun.

You both get closer with each frantic thrust. Months of pining and pretending to hate each other paid off well enough, because the feeling of his cock inside of you, plowing you filthily, locked in the satisfaction of meeting him in the first place.

"And I thought you hated my guts" you moan out as he slams into you, folding a bit. He wraps his arms around you and you tuck your head into his neck as he takes complete control from beneath.

"No, I just, fuck, couldn't stand not having this" he breathes out, his hold on you intensifying. "I want you".

His speed shakes your mind, leaving you fuzzy as you reach your final breaking point. He's close behind, his thrusts becoming less coordinated as he moans out your name like a broken record.

"Tomura, I-"

He cuts you off with a whine, "Please, let me cum inside of you". You completely shatter around him, the heat inside of you finally snapping in half as you grind into him mindlessly, the sensation of your orgasm tearing through you like a full moon's tide. You cry and gasp out into his ear, and he decides he can't wait anymore. He spills into you with a howl, twitching and sputtering as he finally fills you up. The pearly strings coat your sore insides, gumming you up. He sinks his teeth down into your neck as he ruts into you, pumping his seed deeper inside as he rides out his orgasm. You feel the suffocating wave of euphoria wash over you, unable to form a coherent thought as he pulls out slowly.

He lolls his head back and keeps you wrapped in his arms, unwilling to release you.

"I'm sorry" he finally speaks. The silence in the room dissipates with his raspy voice, and you nod.

"Do you at least wash them when you're done?" You ask, and he nods back.

"I return them when you aren't there.." he admits.

"Okay" you don't have the energy or even the space inside of you to actually be mad. If anything, you were more upset before cause for the most part, you were missing a lot of your favorite pairs of underwear, and you thought you were losing your mind.

"I promise I'll stop" he whispers into your hair, "I'm sorry".

You shake your head against his chest. "Don't. It gives me an excuse to come back in here and do this again".

His heartbeat speeds a bit as he processes your words. A part of him wants to tell you you don't need an excuse. But the other part of him wants you to keep catching him. The chase, the raw desire, he'd been playing the long game, and you fell right for it. His silly little game he'd been playing worked out perfectly in his favor, and he relished in that fact.

He doesn't respond. You close your eyes on his chest, and he pulls up the other blanket that was unscathed from his torrential grip. He smiles to himself as you slowly fall asleep on him, your breathing slowing. Lying there with you, he finally felt content and full for once, and that scared him. But he laid there still, soaking in the feeling of completing his goal.

But he no longer wanted to play this game. He wanted to win it.

#myposts #mha #bnha #my hero academia #tomura shigaraki #mha shigaraki #tenko shimura #shigaraki x reader #myasks #shigaraki smut #mywriting #myfics #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #lov x reader #myoneshots

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neptuneiris · 9 months

Text

Behind the Scenes (04/05)

Behind the Acceptance

pairing: actor!aemond × fem!reader

summary: there are new changes for you and Aemond, he wants to rectify himself for past mistakes and you get used to your new life with the father of your son present.

word counter: 10.2K (consider it as a christmas gift, love you all❤)

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I'M SO SORRY!

i know the wait has been too much and you don't know how sorry i am. i experienced stress during my last week of uni before leaving for vacation and i got a new job, which consumes my time and i couldn't edit or do any writing, but i managed to find small times to write and that's why it's taken me so long. i appreciate your understanding, really🥺

I would like to wish you all merry christmas and a happy new year, my best wishes to all of you and also to your families, have a great time and God bless you all beautiful people, you are amazing and truly thank you for so much🥰

now yes, enjoy!

warnings: aemond dad melting our hearts and that's it:)

When Aemond told you to please go back to work and stop running away so that the two of you could face all this together, you didn't quite understand what he meant by 'go back to work'.

However, the next morning after waking up and starting to prepare breakfast for Aenar, you received an unexpected call that answered your question.

It's an unknown number so you accept the call with some caution.

"Y/N speaking? This is Michelle Watson, from the Warner Bros studio production department," she says and your heart jumps.

"Hello?"

You speak on the other end of the line, holding your phone to your ear.

It's HBO, who Aemond is working with right now and where you left your job thrown after unexpectedly meeting him again.

Nerves soon set in and you hold your breath, already feeling ashamed for leaving the shooting set like that without saying anything to anyone and creating a complete circus the moment Aemond called your name in the trailer in front of everyone.

"Yes, she speaks," you reply nervously.

"We want to inform you that despite what has happened, we understand it and the circumstances that led you to leave unexpectedly during your working hours," she tells you in a soft and formal voice, "And we will expect you tomorrow without any problem to resume work."

You frown completely, hesitate a little and blink several times in disbelief, not quite understanding.

"I'm sorry… what do you mean by resuming work?" you ask, barely able to contain your own surprise and disbelief.

"Some conversations took place," she explains, "Mr. Targaryen was quite insistent on convincing the production team to reconsider your situation. He advocated on your behalf, explained the circumstances and your entire track record as an excellent professional makeup artist so that you could continue to work with us."

With your lips parted and your eyes wide open, you are speechless for a moment, staring at a spot in your living room with your heart pounding, definitely not expecting to hear any of this after everything that has happened on this day.

You didn't even expect Aemond to decide to do this for you after everything that happened with him and Criston.

And just when you were starting to worry about how you were going to pay the rent for this apartment and even started to make a schedule in your mind to go get a job somewhere else tomorrow or even today.

"So if there's no problem and everything is fine with you, we'll expect you tomorrow at 7:00 A.M."

Completely speechless.

You can't even control your own heart rate.

But in spite of that, you can't help but feel a huge relief run through your entire body, where you still feel overwhelmed by the generosity and gesture of trust they are offering you, but you definitely feel completely relieved and grateful.

"Yes, yes, of course," you hasten to say, trying to control your emotions, "I'll be there. Thank you so much."

They give you a few more details, you ask few more questions and finally end the call, which leaves you with mixed emotions as you silently contemplate that you still have this new possibility of a better life for you and Aenar.

But you also think about Aemond.

And you will also wait to see how Aemond's integration into your son's little life will be now.

You really appreciate this gesture, you know that only he can do something like this with his influence and connections.

And in fact it gives you the confidence that he will keep his word that no one else will interfere in your and Aenar's life, only the two of you will make the decisions.

Arriving at the recording set, you leave Aenar in the nursery and then you enter the corridors of the whole big production, which is buzzing with its usual atmosphere with its twinkling lights, technical equipment with the huge cameras, microphones and all the sets ready.

You honestly feel nervous knowing that tomorrow you and Aemond will be working in the same place again, like in the old days.

But that's why you try to be as prepared as possible and you won't let all kinds of personal matters interfere with your work.

And once you arrive, you take a moment, take a deep breath and push open the door, where that familiar atmosphere once again envelops you.

You don't even know why but your heart is pounding as you walk down the halls and every step leads you to your area, the makeup and wardrobe trailer.

You assume it's out of shame after what happened yesterday.

Unfortunately your entrance doesn't go unnoticed and as you close the door behind you as you walk just a little into the trailer, some curious faces turn to see you, including Jess, who stops her usual routine and rushes over to you, her eyes wide with surprise.

You hug her back gently, feeling relieved and less tense by the warm welcome from Jess who, even though the two of you don't know each other very well, she actually seems like a very nice person and her personality shows you that.

"Ah Y/N, what a relief to see you again!"

She exclaims with her tone full of joy.

"God, I thought you wouldn't come back," she says as she hugs you excitedly, providing you with some comfort.

"I'm so sorry about yesterday," you say with a regretful gesture and you both break the hug, "I shouldn't have left like that and you don't know how embarrassed I feel. I'm really sorry."

"Oh no, don't worry about it," she assures you instantly, making a nonchalant gesture, "That's all in the past. The important thing is that you're back and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it," she comforts you with a small smile, "We have a lot of work to do today and we need to get you up to speed right away."

Jess, full of energy, ushers you further into the trailer while you greet your other co-workers. Then she explains the day's itinerary precisely, pointing out schedules, wardrobe changes and other important details.

All the while you nod, thanking her for her guidance and trying to keep up. In the midst of all the preparations, the huge door opens again and Aemond is now the one who makes his presence known.

Your gaze meets his and you see the obvious and unexpected surprise in his eyes at seeing you again, but there's not much reaction from either of you as instantly the makeup artists call him over and guide him to start prepping him for today's filming scenes.

And Jess also takes your arm, guiding you to the back of the trailer where the dressing rooms are located explaining what you will be doing, forcing you to look away from him.

And you can only feel Aemond's gaze on you until he loses sight of you.

Jess continues to explain to you, but you can't help but think and wonder certain things, like if everyone here, even Jess, knows about you and Aemond... what you once were and that you have a child together.

The behavior of both of you yesterday was very obvious, that's what you would think if you were an expectant one, so surely there must be some speculation.

And at that moment you remind yourself that your priority right now is your work and that the personal should be kept out of your work environment, so you shouldn't even think about it.

Finally you focus on following Jess's directions, putting aside distractions and preparing for the day.

Jess leaves you alone to take care of her own work and you start with yours, where you spend about an hour still in the back of the trailer, where you check and prepare the costumes that already have to be ready for the scenes that will be filmed soon.

When in the middle of everything, you hear some footsteps approaching behind you and thinking it must be one of the other actors or one of your co-workers, you turn around and the first thing you notice is that silver hair.

Aemond enters this section of the trailer a little unsure, without saying anything, while you also watch him without saying anything.

He is ready to record his scenes with that scar on the left side of his face that his character has and he only lacks the costume.

Until finally he speaks first.

You knew that having a conversation with him again would happen soon, so you're not surprised.

But for a moment there is a tense silence and a slight nervousness and insecurity on the part of both of them, where a clash of emotions is reflected in each other's gazes.

"Hey," he says in a soft, low voice, taking a couple of steps towards you.

You try to smile a little in his direction, not knowing exactly what to say or what to do.

"Hey," you wave back.

There is an awkward pause before Aemond again takes the initiative, taking a few cautious and slow steps towards you.

You bite your lips and lower your gaze for a moment, as he puts a hand to the back of his neck and looks so insecure and nervous standing there, surprising you a bit, as that behavior in him is unusual.

He usually always has that confident attitude in everything he says and does.

"I'm glad you're back," he admits to you, his low tone full of sincerity, "It's good to see you around again."

His words and that friendly gesture take you a bit by surprise, and although you still feel overwhelmed by the unexpected situation, you appreciate the way he is leading in handling all of this to start working together for Aenar's well-being, leaving past tensions behind.

"Thank you," you reply, feeling that sense of relief in your chest again, "Oh, hum… and thank you for talking to production so I could come back," you say a little shyly but gratefully, "You didn't have to."

He lets out a scoff in a nonchalant and also absurd gesture, frowning slightly his nose and forehead.

"Please, it was the least I could do," he tells you softly and with a warm tone, "Besides, it was nothing. I was just afraid you'd decide not to come back."

You hum in understanding.

"I thought about that," you confess to him, lowering your gaze for a moment, "But things were going to be easier for both of us with Aenar if I came back here," you explain, "Still, it was a very kind gesture of you."

Aemond nods, his gaze conveying a mixture of emotions that reflect both relief to see you back here, understanding, and also regret for the past that still haunts him. But he doesn't let those thoughts invade him too much at that moment.

Again there is silence in between for a few seconds, when he speaks again.

"How is Aenar?" he asks in a voice charged with a mixture of happiness, nostalgia and longing for his son.

"He's fine," you say in a soft voice, "He's in the studio nursery. Mary takes very good care of him," you add, wanting to reassure him that his son is being properly cared for.

He nods slowly, humming in response, trying to hide the intensity of his emotions in his gaze.

"That's good, I'm glad to hear that," he replies, vulnerability in his tone and gaze.

The air between the two of you still lingers, charged with emotions that neither of you dares to express openly. However, taking advantage of the conversation, Aemond decides to propose something.

He just met him yesterday and can't wait to see him again, to be in his company.

Yesterday's hours were simply not enough. And knowing that his son is well brings him relief and a feeling he hasn't experienced before since he found out he is a father.

"If you want, I can pay for a trusted babysitter for him," he offers and this gets your full attention, "I'm just saying… so you don't always have to bring him with you to work," he says with a hesitation, his tone betraying his insecurity about his proposal.

You remain silent for a moment, not knowing what exactly to say, in fact processing the unexpected offer. And Aemond can't help but feel even more unnerved by your silence.

"I-I… I don't know," you murmur, hesitant.

This nursery in the set is at least in the same place as you and that gives you relief that whatever happens, you can rush to him right away.

The idea of a babysitter strikes you as a mixture of relief and concern.

In the morning you'd have more time getting ready to come to work and it wouldn't be as much of a burden on you, yet you've never left someone to take care of Aenar while you're away.

But leaving him at home and coming all the way here to work, that causes you hesitation, besides the fact that you have to know the person who will take care of your child perfectly, as well as have confidence in her, above all.

"Only if that makes you feel more comfortable," Aemond adds softly, "But if that's not what you want, that's fine."

You bite your lips, feeling uneasy at the thought of someone else caring for your son and having him away when you're working.

"And you know someone who might be trustworthy?" you ask attentively and still with hesitation in your gaze.

"Yes," he tells you immediately, softly, "Rhaenyra has an army of babysitters to take care of my younger nephews. I can ask her for help with that and I know she'll say yes," he assures you.

"And they are professional babysitters?"

"Yeah, yeah, Nyra is also very careful with the selection and the babysitters she has hired have years of experience and so far several of them have worked with her for a few years now."

And after a moment's reflection, you agree.

And as convincing as the information is, still a mixture of worry and resignation envelopes your body.

But you knew that sooner or later you would have to face the situation of balancing your job with the responsibility of caring for your little one, accepting the idea that you won't always be able to have him with you.

"All right," you nod to him, "But I'd like to do some interviews first."

"Yeah, of course. I'll take care of that, don't worry," he says softly, nodding to you and you nod back.

"Thank you, Aemond."

"You don't have to thank me, Y/N, it's for our son. And if he or you need anything, please just let me know."

Seeing Aemond so willing to be a present father and his desire to be involved in his son's life, to some extent relieves you and surprises you a little, clearly because of what happened at first when you found out you were pregnant.

But so far… he has really shown you that he wants to be present and without having Criston and all his team around anymore.

The slight tension in the air is felt again as you and he continue to navigate the terrain of this new dynamic, which feels a little weird and you feel very nervous, though you don't even know why, while he at all times seems unsure.

And in an attempt to diffuse the tension, now you're the one who speaks first.

"Okay," you nod, "And if you…" you try to say a little nervously and with some caution and insecurity, "If you want to go see Aenar at the nursery or even at the apartment, you can," you assure him with a soft tone, "I never said you couldn't visit him and I don't plan to take that right away from you."

Vulnerability is reflected both in your words and in Aemond's expression, who with his soft face and with his gaze full of various emotions, places a small gentle smile on his lips.

"I'd love that."

Your words mean more to him than you probably realize. That sincere gesture of openness on your part, Aemond deeply appreciates.

Just as he appreciates that the conversation has reached a level of understanding and cooperation that neither of you had anticipated, but that you definitely appreciate. It doesn't end there yet, though.

"Can I ask you something?"

You nod, with no problem.

"Sure."

"What will you be leaving work on when your shift is over with Aenar?" he tells you interested and attentive.

"Um… well, yesterday I took the bus," you explain, considering that just yesterday was supposedly your first day, "And I had already planned that if I finished late, I'd take an Uber. Like now in the morning I was running a little late and took an Uber," you reply, trying to explain your transportation routine.

In fact there is nothing wrong with moving this way, many people do it, besides you don't have many options.

But that's what Aemond doesn't want, he wants to make your life a little easier, especially since Aenar lives with you and he doesn't want to risk something bad happening to both of you one day with public transport.

"Well, if you want, I can take the two of you," he also offers without hesitation, "Or if it seems too much, I can ask my driver to pick you up and take you wherever you need to go, without problem," he assures you, "I just don't want you to move that way with Aenar or by yourself."

This new unexpected offer from Aemond also surprises you, that you even think about turning him down, telling him it's not necessary.

Mostly you see it from Aenar's safety side.

But his concern is genuine and also you know that then moving you will start to be a problem.

You know you can't afford Uber every day, the fares aren't exactly cheap and there are other needs you have to take care of, besides taking the bus late could be dangerous.

"Well…" you look at him hesitantly and a little embarrassed, "You won't have a problem with that?"

"No, of course not," he answers you instantly.

You nod in his direction, grateful for his consideration.

"Yes, it's fine and seriously thank you for this too," you can't help but say, "Sometimes transport is complicated."

"Don't worry, it's fine."

He is about to say something else when a third voice interrupts him, entering the same space as you.

"Yeah, I know, sorry, I'm already on it," he assures her instantly.

"Aemond, are you ready now?"

Enters one of your co-workers, watching him intently and instantly with concern at the sight of him still in his civilian clothes.

"For God's sake, why aren't you dressed yet? Your scene is going to shoot in less than fifteen minutes!"

"I'll be back in ten minutes. Hurry up, please," the worried girl says and hurries away.

You instantly at that moment decide that the two of you can talk later and hand him his clothes from the scene he'll be shooting soon and he thanks you, heading for one of the small dressing rooms quickly.

When he finishes putting on his clothes, you quickly help him look perfect for filming the scene.

"I'll be seeing you," he tells you before leaving and you nod.

"Sure."

And from that moment on, over the next few days, everything changes as much for Aemond as it does for you.

He kept his word to drive you and Aenar back home every time your shift ended. And if he was still filming scenes, he would send his driver to take you instead of him, also to bring you in the mornings.

The relationship is cordial and collaborative and while there is no romantic reconciliation involved, there is a determination to build a more stable and secure future for Aenar, as well as prioritizing his well-being above all else.

At work, too, the dynamic between the two of you changes completely. Communication is professional, as it should be, but in every interaction there is a complicity that seems to have evolved.

There is a quiet understanding, a new focus on cooperation and mutual respect that is taking shape.

Also Aemond kept his word to hire a fully trusted babysitter and while he took care of that, sometimes you found him in the nursery with Aenar, keeping him company and playing with him.

At first this caused you some noise and also confusion, since Aemond is under the public eye spending quality time with his son and doesn't bother to hide it, so you wondered if already everyone working here, also Aemond's co-workers, knows that he has a son with you.

Again that sight couldn't help but make you smile with a certain nostalgic look, watching the interaction of those two silver-haired heads in their own world.

But it made you feel happy to see your little boy laughing and playing with his father.

And if so, you doubt that it will come out soon, because working in this production of whatever position, there is a confidentiality contract for everything, even for the personal life of the actors.

But when the shooting of this show is over, everyone is probably going to know about it. Although it seems that Aemond doesn't even think about it and doesn't really care.

So you decide not to ask him anything about it and how Criston and his whole team is going to take it.

You honestly don't know what Aemond has done with him, what they have talked about and what exactly happened for him to leave you and Aenar alone.

And you don't want to know. You've had enough of him and everything he did to you. And fortunately you live in peace and feel safe to have Aemond on your side this time.

And before you can say anything, Aemond steps forward with a soft little smile.

When one day on your day off you find yourself making dinner while Aenar watches his favorite cartoon in the living room and you supervise him occasionally from where you are, there's a knock at the door.

You're traumatized with the thought that maybe it's Criston and something bad is going to happen, but when you open the door you find Aemond with a woman by his side.

"Hey."

"Hi," you try to smile, a little confused.

"Are you busy? I-I didn't know and thought I'd just come over," he says, "And I'd let you know but I don't have your number or-or something."

"No, no, it's fine, I'm just making dinner," you hasten to say.

"I came because I wanted to introduce you to Elinda Massey," he tells you, pointing to the woman next to him and she looks at you with a warm smile, "One of the babysitters Rhaenyra recommended to me to take care of Aenar."

"Oh," you nod, now understanding.

You watch Elinda and she radiates warmth and assurance in her gaze, instantly feeling comfortable with her presence.

"It's nice to meet you, Elinda," you say with a small smile, extending your hand to her.

"Same to you, Y/N," she replies, shaking his hand with yours, "Aemond has told me so much about you and Aenar. I'm very excited to meet him as well."

Aemond beside her nods, his expression calm.

"Elinda is professional and very experienced. I wanted to introduce you to her and thought maybe we could do a little interview together, just to get to know her and see how she gets along with Aenar."

You instantly nod again.

"Oh yeah, yeah, sure, come on in," you step aside, allowing them to pass, "Aenar is watching his favorite cartoon," you say as you close the door behind you.

Aemond instantly walks towards him, making a sound of surprise, catching his attention and Aenar instantly notices him, smiling big at the sight of him, his huge blue eyes lighting up and reaching out his little arms towards him.

Both you and Aemond know Elinda better and you realize that she is a woman who has all the necessary experience and training. Besides the fact that when she approaches Aenar, he instantly laughs and plays with her.

Aemond laughs and takes him in his arms, starting to leave a bunch of kisses on his huge chubby cheeks, making him laugh as he holds him against his chest and speaks to him in a honeyed tone.

And you again can't help but smile as you watch the scene.

There is still that feeling of worry in you knowing that you will have to leave Aenar in someone else's care.

But Elinda shows you so much in so few hours, she tells you about her experience, shows you letters of recommendation, first aid certificates, as well as other care and Aenar has fun with her.

Aemond stays a few more moments in Aenar's company, playing games and watching the cartoons he likes, while you finish dinner and cleaning the kitchen.

The three of you establish a work schedule for her, as well as you tell her some recommendations and observations regarding Aenar.

And once everything is ready and clarified, she leaves and Aemond tells you that he has already taken care of all the payment details with her.

Every now and then you hear how Aemond asks him questions in a honeyed tone and repeats the same expressions he does when he sees his favorite character on TV, and then both start laughing.

Those sounds, the sound of your son's laughter and also Aemond's expressions, unconsciously make you smile and you watch from the kitchen as Aemond makes funny gestures or faces to make him laugh and attacks him with a lot of kisses all over his face or tickles.

Then you walk him to the door once he is ready to leave.

And there the two of them make themselves comfortable on the couch, eventually Aenar falls asleep on Aemond's lap, his back and head against his chest. He cautiously gets up holding him gently and puts him to sleep, while you thank him.

"Oh, right, I almost forgot," he says stopping in front of the door and turns to you, "This is for you."

You see him take his wallet from his back pocket and inside it, he pulls out what appears to be a black card and holds it out to you. This catches your attention and also confuses you, taking the card with that confusion, not understanding.

And only when you take a good look at it in your hands do you realize that it is a bank card.

"It's yours."

He says and you frown more, then raise your gaze to him asking for an explanation.

"I can only send money to it, I don't have direct access. You'll get the PIN from the bank, tomorrow after the shoot, I'll take you to activate it," he tells you, "You know, it's in case you need money to buy something for Aenar or for you, whatever you need."

Then when you fully understand the explanation and the purpose of this, you start to panic.

"Aemond—

You try to say feeling the lump in your throat and your heart starting to pound.

"I know I didn't tell you about this, but please, I want to do it," he interrupts you with a pleading tone so you won't reject him or reproach him about it, "Besides, this is necessary. Sometimes I will have to travel to other cities for shootings or events and I won't be able to see you or him and I want to make sure you don't lack anything. So just accept it, please."

"But—

"Please," he insists.

This really seems too much to you and you have an idea of the amount of money the card must already have. And no… in spite of everything, you don't want to accept this and feel that you are taking advantage of him.

You watch him still with hesitation and worry on your face, tension hanging in the air as you and he stand in complete silence, saying nothing for a few seconds.

You look back down at the card in your hands and Aemond follows your gaze, both of you standing face to face.

And it just seems that Aemond reads your thoughts by the hesitation and insecurity on your face.

"If you don't want to use it to also buy things for yourself, use it just to buy Aenar whatever he needs," he tells you softly, "After all, I was going to do this sooner or later, wasn't I? It's my responsibility to make sure he doesn't lack anything and that's what I'm going to do."

You let out a long breath, beginning to feel less of the weight of the luxurious and clearly exclusive black card in your hands, with his words beginning to soften your chest at the mention of Aenar.

"Fine," you mutter finally, letting out a sigh and raising your gaze to him, "B-but I'll only use it for things that Ae-

This gesture from Aemond is a clear sign of concern and responsibility he feels towards you and his son. And you truly feel that genuine desire that he wants to contribute for the welfare of both of you.

You try to clarify but he quickly speaks up.

"Yeah, okay," he nods at you, "Don't worry. Just… use it."

You nod again.

"Thank you, Aemond."

A slight flicker of concern appears in his gaze and he quickly tries to be able to struggle to find the right words to be able to explain himself so you don't misunderstand him.

"I don't want you to feel like I'm trying to—

"No, no, I don't think so," you tell him softly, with understanding, "This…" you look back down at the card in your hands and let out a sigh, "This is actually necessary and very helpful…. you really don't know how much I appreciated it."

He nods, his expression relieving a bit as he sees your behavior and also as you accept his support.

"Easy, it's okay," he assures you in a soft murmur.

"Also…" he starts to say with some nervousness but definitely more confident, "I wanted to ask you if you have social security for Aenar and you," he says with a serene expression, looking directly at you.

Again silence settles between the two of you but the air is different, calmer and less tense, feeling the mutual understanding.

And Aemond, after the two of you say nothing for another long few seconds, thinks it best to talk at this point about another plan he has in mind.

This also immediately catches your attention and you watch him warily, tilting your head to one side and starting to get an incredulous look on your face.

"You're not seriously thinking that—

"Y/N, please," he interrupts you, "This is no problem for me, really," he insists, "I just need to know."

"But—

"This is also important and I can pay for it."

"But it's a lot of money and I don't think—

"Do you really think I'll let you and Aenar go through life without being covered?" he asks you incredulously, "I can handle this. I really can."

His words continue to reflect that genuine commitment and you, despite your concern, feel something warm invade your chest, especially the gentle and willing way he is looking at you.

After all that has happened, seeing Aemond so determined to contribute to your son's well-being gives you a new hope and opportunity for Aenar's future.

The costs are too much, nothing you could really afford, not even for Aenar, since your salary was not much and had to cover other needs. You couldn't even afford it on your current salary.

You have always worked very hard to try to give Aenar everything he needs. Among them, paying for a social insurance for him, in case of anything.

But you could never afford it.

And that suddenly Aemond is offering it to you so easily, clearly because he can afford it, you feel somewhat overwhelmed and also feel that it is too much.

"And you're completely—

"Yes, I am," he interrupts you again, being very clear and honest with you, "This won't be any trouble, really," he assures you.

You want to tell him thank you, but the words get stuck in your throat. However, Aemond sees the gratitude is visible in your gaze, along with your concern and how you find yourself overthinking it.

So he just gives you a look of understanding and total reassurance.

"I'll be leaving. You need to rest. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

You let out a long breath, bite your lips and nod in his direction.

"Okay."

"Good night," he says softly as he opens the apartment door again.

"Good night. Drive safe."

Lately the days have been more… peaceful.

But as the days progressed, you realized that it was useless to feel that way because when you returned to the apartment, everything was absolutely fine. And also everything is easier when you transport yourself with Aemond's help or with the help of his driver.

Having Elinda as a babysitter, your mornings are easier and she does an excellent job with Aenar, so you have nothing to worry about.

At first you would leave home feeling horrible and your whole body tense, always alert to your phone and exaggeratedly paranoid.

Aemond also one day told you the same thing, that lately things have been quiet, even the recordings have not been heavy for him compared to other days or other jobs.

And for the same reason that he is busy filming, he hasn't attended any events or interviews, that happens rather after he finishes filming a new show or movie and there is still time left for that.

Aemond drives in silence and the soft background music on low volume fills the entire interior of the car while you watch the city through the windows and Aenar sleeps secured in one of the back seats.

So on this one day and for one occasion only, Elinda had an important commitment that she couldn't postpone, so she didn't show up for work and you didn't have any problem, since you can bring Aenar to the nursery on the set.

And now it is Aemond who is driving them home after your shift ended almost at the same time he finished filming his scenes.

He and you haven't talked much during the whole drive, only about work, but even so the silence is comfortable and you can't wait to get home to cook a nice dinner.

The cityscape soon transforms into familiar and somewhat… careless streets, as you approach to your apartment.

He parks in front of your building and watches you.

You know this isn't a luxurious area and there's a lot of detail to look at, but it's what you can afford right now.

And that's just what Aemond thinks as he looks around the neighborhood, hating to leave you and Aenar here when he can get you a much better place. But he knows you'll say no.

"Will you stay here any longer?" he asks you softly, "I mean, will you continue to pay rent?"

"For now yes," you nod to him, "I'm saving up to move to a better place, to an apartment in a different area and that's close to work," you let him know, "It's just taking time because of my paycheck."

Aemond stares at you intently for a moment, thinking and pondering your words, with a thoughtful look on his face, while you make sure you have all your belongings with you before getting out of the car and carrying Aenar.

And just as he is about to speak, a familiar sound interrupts him and his son's crying is heard throughout the car.

You follow him too with all your things in hand, walking over to both of them.

You quickly turn to him to attend to him, trying to calm him down, while Aemond reacts and quickly gets out of the car to open the door to the back seats.

It takes him a little while to unfasten the seat belts, but once he's finished he takes him in his arms and whispers comforting words in his ear to make him stop crying.

"Shh, my little one," Aemond whispers, holding him against his chest and stroking his silver hair, "Hey, it's okay, it's okay," he murmurs, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead.

You move to his side and run one of your hands over his wet cheeks, watching you for a moment with teary blue eyes only to close them tightly and continue crying.

"Either he wants to sleep in his room or he's hungry," you say, stroking his face to try to calm him as well.

"He didn't eat?" he asks you attentively.

"Yes, Mary said yes."

"Then he wants to sleep," he says, trying to wipe the dried tears from his cheeks, "Come on upstairs, I'll take him," he tells you and you nod.

All the while Aemond tries to comfort him until they reach the door of your apartment, but when he lays him down in his crib, Aenar cries more and he carefully holds him in his arms again, trying to soothe him while you quickly stop in the kitchen and prepare a baby bottle, hoping it will help.

And when you hand it to Aemond, he stands gently pacing around the room holding Aenar with one arm while the other hand holds the baby ottle for him against his mouth, hoping it will soothe him and he will fall asleep.

You take the bottle and Aemond carefully lays him down to sleep in his crib, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead to finally let him rest.

Aenar eventually calms down as he drinks from the baby bottle and watches with his blue eyes Aemond above him, who is still gently walking him around the room.

And little by little, wrapped in the safety of Aemond's arms, he falls asleep.

He sits up and turns to you, where you both look at each other without saying anything for a moment, sharing a silent connection.

"Thank you," you whisper to him.

"Don't worry," he says back to you in the same way.

Together you leave Aenar's room without a sound and gently close the door.

That night Aemond drives to his apartment with a new thought in mind, one of which is to always provide a better life for you and Aenar.

That's why, without telling you anything and taking advantage of the fact that it's your day off, he manages to leave the recording set early, he tells you to accompany him to the mall to buy new clothes for Aenar and you accept without thinking about anything else.

During the ride, so far you haven't questioned him about anything and that relieves him, but when you finally pay attention to the streets he is driving through, that's when your confusion appears and Aemond is thankful that you are about to arrive at the real place he wants to take you.

"I don't think there's a shopping mall around here, Aemond," you tell him confused, watching the streets carefully.

You realize that he is actually driving through a private residential neighborhood, with the streets lined with luxurious homes or rather mansions that would catch anyone's attention and you are clearly no exception.

And remembering your locations, you can tell that this neighborhood belongs to the Visenya Hill area, the most exclusive and prestigious area of King's Landing.

"Aemond, where are we going?" you look at him completely confused and questioning.

"I want to show you something," he tells you without giving you any more detail, generating more confusion and despair in you.

"But you said we were going to the mall."

"I know, but I lied to you," he says with some regret and you frown, "If I told you I wanted to show you a house where you can live with Aenar, you wouldn't have come."

"What?"

You inquire in your completely incredulous, serious and questioning voice, watching him with your eyes wide open.

"Surely you're joking," you tell him absurdly, shaking in his direction and watching him completely intently and seriously, really wanting to believe this is a joke.

"No, I'm not," he says letting out a small laugh, watching you for a moment to turn his gaze back to the road.

"Aemond," you start trying to warn him, serious.

"We're here," he announces out of nowhere, alerting you more fully.

You watch with your lips parted and completely attentive at all the windows, as the car comes to a stop in front of an impressive house, whose high ceilings and elegant white columns stand out in the neighborhood.

The front garden with the green lawn, a beautiful fountain and flowering bushes only make it stand out more, besides the elegant entrance, its huge windows and the dimension of the whole house that makes you continue to stare at everything with your mouth open.

In comparison, Aemond looks at the house with a hopeful expression and feeling genuinely happy and excited. But at the same time, he is worried about your attitude and what you will tell him about all this.

At first you refuse to get out of the car, still incredulous and surprised, telling him this is crazy, but Aemond makes you get out and also gets Aenar down from the back seats, instantly on this rare occasion preferring your arms instead of his father's.

"Aemond," you try to say, worried and still unable to believe it.

"Easy. Come," he tells you completely unconcerned, leading you to the entrance of the house.

You observe everything, unable to help yourself, as there is even furniture and everything looks too expensive but too beautiful at the same time.

You watch as he holds the fucking key in his hand and opens the beautiful, gigantic door for you, without giving you a chance to say anything else.

And as you enter, the entire interior of the house spreads out in front of you, illuminated by the daylight filtering through the windows and highlighting every majestic detail of the property.

The simple entrance is large with a crystal chandelier above you hanging from the high ceiling, the living room is spacious and there is also a small decorative fountain. Further on there is another living room that you can observe from the spacious and eye-catching kitchen.

And the entire upstairs also completely grabs your attention, having three huge bedrooms, the master bedroom being the largest of them all, each with its own bathroom and closet.

The bathroom down here is ridiculously large for a bathroom. The pantry is also a ridiculously large room for a pantry.

The garden is lovely and has a swimming pool which, according to Aemond, can be automatically closed off for Aenar's security. There is a laundry and drying room as well.

"It's perfect, don't you think?"

Aemond tells you slightly excited as you walk down the stairs behind him, with Aenar in your arms and who also looks at everything around him with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Work is nearby, my apartment is nearby and Elinda has come to this area to work before, so it won't be a problem," he tells you with that little smile, turning to you, looking with that gleam of hope compared to you.

He clearly expects the same reaction from you and even having already seen the house, you let out a sigh and look at him with a serious and confused expression.

"Aemond, what do you think you're doing?"

"Well, it's for you," he tells you, pointing to everything around him, still not seeing how much this is costing you, "It's perfect for you and Aenar. And a chance for him to live and grow up in a nice, spacious, safe place."

You are speechless for a moment, feeling that heaviness in your chest and your heart pounding as you press your lips together and briefly observe everything around you again.

"Everything will be taken care of by me, you won't have to worry about anything," he assures you softly, "Aenar's room is big, the kitchen is big, there are two living rooms and..." he shrugs, "Like I told you, everything is close by."

"Tell me you haven't already bought all this," you say slightly concerned.

And then all emotion from Aemond slowly fades.

"But why? What is it that—

"Aemond, this is too much," you interrupt him incredulously, shock in your eyes, "How do you think I'm just going to accept this just like that?"

He steps closer, with the slight concern in his gaze, trying to convey calm, but his eye reflects the urgency of his purpose.

"Y/N, please. I only want what's best for you and Aenar. Besides, you said you're moving soon and—

"Yes but to an apartment, not a house that costs millions of dollars," you tell him absurdly.

"Yes, I know, but—" he bites his lips, nervous, "I wanted to do this. I wanted to give this to you and Aenar," he says insistent, "A safe place in a quiet neighborhood, where you can also have your space without having to worry anymore."

You shake your head.

"But—

"Look, just..." he tries to find the right words, trying to work on your willing attitude for not accepting this, "Consider it, yes?" he insist, "You don't have to make a decision right now, for now I just wanted to show you around, nothing more," he says calmly, though you know that behind that calmness is an obvious longing.

"But it's just that this is too much and... no," you look at him with slight concern, "I don't need to consider it because no matter how much I think about it, my answer is no."

"Aemond, this..." you begin to say with restrained sadness, hesitating, "This won't change the past. This won't make it so I can forgive you," you tell him resignedly, "This isn't about me and Aenar, it's about Aenar nothing else and her well being," you tell him in a broken voice, "But this... this house... it's too much."

"Y/N..." he says, taking a couple more steps towards you, wary, "Two years ago, I was the worst shitty boyfriend," he says with sadness and regret, "I had to support you, be there for you completely, I shouldn't have let Criston talk me into his plans, accept in the beginning to hide you and hide my responsibility."

He says as he looks nostalgic at Aenar in your arms.

"And now that you've given me this second chance, I just want to make things right....I want to do what I should have done in the beginning."

Aemond's expression, although he himself tries to remain expressionless, still feels as if he has been hit hard in the stomach when he hears your words.

And all illusion disappears, as well as his enthusiasm.

He resignedly steps back, leaving a space between you and him, not wanting to overwhelm you any more than he already has.

He thought this would be a good idea, that by the time the three of you were here, looking forward to the idea of a new home, you would understand and accept.

But there are still many open wounds from the past and he knows they cannot be healed with these sudden gestures.

"I know, it's just that I-I..." he tries to say with his voice laden with regret and deep remorse," I didn't expect this... a house or an apology to just fix things," he says sincerely and with disappointment, "I just wanted to give Aenar stability and offer you a safe place for the both of you, give you a better life."

Silence envelops you both, dense and charged with mixed emotions.

Aemond tries to find some sign on your face, wanting you to see his true intention, longing for some small indication of hope or acceptance.

And you feel the overwhelming weight of responsibility and emotions inside you. All of this is tempting, though your heart is still scarred by past pain and also distrust. And you are torn between caution and the opportunity to give Aenar the stability he deserves.

Aemond remains silent, respecting your space and your time to process the situation. But the indecision in you is all too obvious.

"Y/N, I promise you that all this is for Aenar and nothing else," he tells you seriously and sincerely, "I promise I won't try anything, except to take care of him and make sure he lacks nothing," he insists, "At least stay in this house until he grows up a little more and if you still think it's too much, we can find a smaller place," he proposes.

His words are left floating in the air, while you continue to think too hard. His proposal echoing in your mind, plunging you into a sea of thoughts, with indecision.

Aemond seems to have put his heart on the table, but your emotions continue to struggle between caution and hope, as you cannot ignore the possibility of offering Aenar a more secure and stable life, which is all you wish for him since you could not give him that at the beginning.

And it is also what Aemond desires, that is why he is so insistent and you see his true intention to give this to Aenar, without any other intentions in between.

But is it right to trust him again? What if Criston and his team try to intervene again? This time they would do it more easily.

Maybe it can be different this time.

You honestly feel like you're taking a big risk by agreeing. It's a big bet to open your life and Aenar's to this new opportunity, but you also see how he's striving to give you something better.

And that's exactly what has you questioning and wondering: should I give this a chance?

"All right," you finally say in a soft voice with a mixture of nervousness, "But only for Aenar."

Aemond looks at you with surprise and hope.

"Really?"

You nod, swallowing hard and Aemond lets out a long breath, visibly relieved and then, avoiding smiling big, takes the house key from his front pocket and holds it out to you, to which you take it a little confused.

"Don't you have to give it to the real estate agent?"

"Actually, I already bought it," he says with a nervous but innocent gesture at the same time, scratching the back of his neck, "Well, I haven't paid the whole amount, but I've paid most of it. So it's yours."

Seven fucking Hells.

You can't help but think as you close your eyes for a moment and let out a sigh, unable to believe it.

The new house soon began to have that warmth the moment you started settling in with Aenar. Every room radiates a sense of peace and comfort that you haven't experienced in a long time.

The move wasn't difficult at all, the only thing you had to transport from the old apartment with the help of Aemond and his driver was your clothes, Aenar's clothes, her toys and her crib, nothing else.

The house already had furniture, beds, decorations and even televisions already installed.

The high ceilings allow natural light to flood in, while the white walls set off the black and gray furniture and Aenar toys, creating a warm and cozy atmosphere.

Aemond builds Lego block forts together with him, buys him toy dragons, cars, stuffed animals and they both watch Aenar's favorite cartoon or movies, getting cozy on the shag carpet or on the couch.

Because Aemond's apartment is close by, his commitment is more accessible, so there is never a day that goes by that he doesn't visit Aenar.

Special moments between father and son are spent in the living room, where toys scattered on the floor become Aenar's playroom area.

Also some evenings the three of you have dinner together, where Aemond offers to feed Aenar and eventually the dining room fills with laughter and smiles as you focus on him.

The backyard also becomes a realm of adventure, where they both even plan picnics and invite you over.

They also both sometimes spend afternoons exploring with laughter and playing with the plastic cars on the lawn where Aenar imitates the sounds Aemond makes from a car.

The new house is filled with happy and warm moments, forming the perfect setting for Aenar to begin to grow up, having both of his parents looking after him.

The proximity of work and Aemond's apartment made the daily routine easier. The routes are short and convenient, allowing more time to enjoy time together.

And above all you definitely feel more at ease having Elinda taking care of Aenar while you are considerably closer to home from the set.

When one day at night, you had already received a message from Aemond telling you that he would be a little late to visit Aenar, as usual, and you replied that it was fine, even though tomorrow is your day off and you have no problem with sleeping late.

But the clock is almost half past eleven at night and you think he is not going to arrive, when just at that moment you hear the doorbell ring and you go to the door, checking from the IPad the cameras of a program that Aemond installed to record Aenar while he sleeps and also monitors in case of anything and so you can make sure he is okay.

And finally you open the door, watching Aemond carefully.

"I thought you weren't coming anymore," you tell him in a low, warm tone, but also worried.

Aemond nods, letting out a sigh.

"I finished later than I thought. It was a hard day," he tells you heavily.

You nod softly and understandingly, stepping aside to let him pass.

"Aenar is already asleep."

"Yes, that's what i thought," he says calmly, "But it doesn't matter, I won't wake him up, I just want to see him," he watches you with tired eye, "You should go to sleep too," he says as he places one of his hands gently on your shoulder, "I'll lock up and set the alarm when I leave."

Hesitation shows on your face for a moment, watching him intently and with a flash of concern.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry," he nods at you with a small soft smile, "Go get some rest, I'll take care of it."

"Fine, but anything tell me, no matter what it is, okay?"

"Okay."

With a soft nod, you both head up the stairs and down the hallway to the rooms, you wave goodbye to him before entering your room and he enters Aenar's room.

And once in your room, you cover yourself with your sheets and thinking that you would fall asleep the moment you were in the comfort of your bed, you suddenly stare at the ceiling for a long time unable to close your eyes and clearly unable to sleep.

He hasn't left yet, as you haven't heard that soft 'click' of the door or his footsteps in the hallway walking away.

You try to find sleep any way you can, but the thought that Aemond is still in the house is what keeps you awake.

And it's not because you don't trust him, on the contrary, you look at the time and feel remorseful and worried that he has to drive back to his apartment so late.

Minutes pass and suddenly you find yourself restless, sleep refusing to invade you. So with quiet steps, you approach Aenar's room, where the dim light of a night lamp reflects through the frame below the door.

Carefully and determined, you gently open the door, first peeking your head and then your body, catching the attention of Aemond who turns his head towards you, sitting near Aenar's crib and gently and very lightly stroking his hair so as not to wake him with a look of affection that does not leave his face despite the interruption.

"Can't you sleep?" he whispers to you, watching you with a soft gaze.

You nod softly, folding your arms as you look down at sleeping Aenar with palpable tenderness.

"It's late and I thought maybe... if you want, you can sleep here," you say with a warm tone but your hint of shyness in your voice is noticeable, as well as your hesitation to suggest such a thing.

It's no problem for you, it's just that he's never slept over before and you don't know what his reaction will really be to you proposing that, whether he'll say yes or no.

"And you're okay with that?" he observes you thoughtfully and softly.

"Yes, of course I am," you assure him completely nonchalantly, "It's totally fine with me."

He nods at you with a gesture, without wiping away his soft little smile.

"Thank you."

And then both his gaze and yours return to watching Aenar asleep in his crib. And Aemond resumes the smile of tenderness on his lips, again sliding his hand over his hair.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" he whispers with a flash of pride in his gaze.

You hum in assent, slowly moving closer toward them both.

"Yes, he is," you reply, gazing at your little one with indescribable love.

A brief silence envelops you for a moment, only hearing the soft hum of the spinning lamp projecting images on the ceiling, creating a peaceful low-light scene of animals and stars for Aenar.

This usually helps him sleep and also calms him down a bit if he wakes up crying in the middle of the night while you wake up and rush over here.

"For a while I imagined how he would looked like, whether boy or girl..." he murmurs in a soft, warm, low, wistful tone, "No matter what you decided to do when you left, I always thought about it," he gives you a meaningful look, guilt on his features and you nod, watching him with understanding.

Aemond clenches his jaw and looks at Aenar again, while you remember those days, where fear and uncertainty lived inside you every day.

You wish you had them, those happy moments that a new mom should experience, but that was not the case for you and yet... you cannot imagine a life without your little boy, it is impossible.

What is supposed to be happy news, was not happy for you and Aemond.

There was no single moment of joy at the beginning, when you learned of your pregnancy. Nor did you experience that feeling the first few months, when you ran away and went back to building a new life.

And Aemond feels the remorse most in these kinds of moments, when Aenar is asleep and he looks at him, not being able to believe and wondering over and over again how it is that from the beginning, he supported the idea of just getting rid of him.

And now he sees only him and cannot imagine a world without him.

Shame overcomes him, guilt also and he even wants to cry with anger as he thinks of all that you must have gone through, without his support, trying to make a living for you and his son, all alone in a new and unknown place.

And he knows that this, allowing you to be in Aenar's life, is a great opportunity that he doesn't deserve and yet you have given it to him.

"I know you said you can't forgive me but... someday can you? For how I reacted and for the decision I supported in the beginning?" he asks you, unable to help himself and needing to know.

His tone is charged with a mixture of regret and longing as you feel a pressure and a slight sharp pain in your chest at his words.

Silence stretches for a moment throughout the room, Aemond respects your silence and though there are many reasons why you should never forgive him for what happened, you still decide to be honest.

"I don't know," you whisper in a low, sad and vulnerable tone.

The words echo through the room, enveloping the space with palpable tension.

Aemond feels his heart pounding, filled with overwhelming regret. He lowers his gaze, unable to bear the weight of his mistakes and your words are like a dagger in his heart, but still, he understands you completely.

He nods with compression, letting out a regret-laden sigh, still gently stroking Aenar's hair.

"I understand," he murmurs with a tone of melancholy and fragility, as well as in his gaze full of pleading and remorse.

"Does your family know about him?"

And you with your sad eyes full of regret, you watch him out of the corner of your eye.

And you see all those emotions in him, all his thoughts reflected in his gaze, trying to stand firm and on the sidelines as he continues to watch Aenar.

You can't help but ask, trying to calm the atmosphere a little, though it's useless, as that slight tension is felt and also that physical and emotional distance from both your side and him.

"I've wanted to tell them, only Nyra knows but I asked her not to say anything," he confesses to you in a low voice, trying to speak firmly but the nostalgia is clear, "Even though I know my mother and siblings will be disappointed in me when I explained what happened two years ago, yes I have wanted to tell them," he nods, "But first I wanted to discuss it with you," he says looking briefly at you over his shoulder.

And now it is remorse that comes to you.

"Tell them, Aemond," you tell him firmly with a soft tone, "They deserve to know."

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shadybiotics · 5 months

Text

R e d d e r d a y s

× pairing: venture x reader

× words: 1588

× content : afab!reader, cozy, comfort, fluff, period talk, sfw

× summary: You are on your period, not feeling well at all and thus missing from todays training. Venture noticed your absence and decided to check up on you.

[ A/N ] : I was on my period when i started writing this and needed some comfort. Also, for clarity, imagine this is a 2016 ow situation where everyone shares one base with their own rooms etc got it? cool.

You were currently at the shared Overwatch base. Todays agenda included some basic training and an annual rundown of the safety protocol during combat. These were both some of the lighter activities you had the chance to be a part of but even still, you wouldn't be able to attend as you felt like death walking.

You were on your period and you felt awful. In every way imaginable. Your skin tingled with hot and cold flashes, your insides felt funny and you weren't sure if you were going to vomit or faint first.

So you had to skip out on todays activities and stayed in your bunk instead, wrapped in your favourite blankets in your bed. And it turns out that somebody else had similar plans for today.

knock! knock! knock!

A quick succession of sturdy knocks at your door took your attention off of your phone that you've been scrolling on for the past hour or so.

"Who is it?" You tried to groan loud enough for the other person to hear with the little energy you had.

"Its Sloane! I heard you weren't coming to training today and wanted to come by and check up on you! If that's okay I mean."

So it was just Sloane, but why weren't they at training, you wondered. Not giving it much more thought than that you let them in.

The metallic door opened with a click and slid with a heavy swoosh and in entered Venture, wearing their comfiest sweater and some slacks.

"Oh, whats up with you?"

"Not feeling well" You answered shortly, still laying limp in your bed.

"I can tell that" Venture said with a soft chuckle.

"Im on my period" You said a little quieter as they walked over and carefully sat on the bed beside your legs.

"Ooooh yeah you don't look too good" That comment left their lips faster than they could think. You squinted and stared daggers in their direction the moment your brain registered what they said.

"Oops, sorry, didn't mean it like that" they said with a laugh. Venture had a quick glance around your room, mainly noticing the mess on your bedside table. An empty water bottle and a mug, some candy wrappers and a pack of pills. Painkillers, they assumed.

Embarrassment and shame shot through the layers of your discomfort when you noticed them analyzing your room. It was a mess, yes, there were clothes hanging about and a general mess on your desk as well that you didn't feel like cleaning. You swore you would get to it soon.

Venture gently rested their hand on your leg as they said in their most empathetic voice possible, "Im sorry, I cant imagine what it must feel like".

"Well, don't you... too...?" You questioned carefully.

You didn't want to prod too much, asking felt intrusive and intimate. You didn't want to step on any footing Venture felt uncomfortable with but you also couldn't deny your curiosity. It's only human to wonder.

"Oh, yeah! I do get my periods as well but they're usually not as intense... as yours. Never been actually, guess im lucky"

"Guess you are..." You replied a little gloomier while shifting deeper into your bed, wishing you had the same luxury as them.

"But why aren't you at training then?" You got up slightly, a headache warning to hit at the sudden movement, and scooted further into your bed to give them more room to sit. They followed and sat next to you.

"Honestly? I just wanted to catch up on some reading. There's this book on ancient archeology that -turns out- has some errors printed into it, and the writer shared a new edition, highlighting its previous mistakes and . . . " They went on and on but you couldn't help but zone out soon, concentrating only on the pounding in your head.

Reading. Of course the history nerd skips out on training just so they could read some more. How typical of them, you thought, smiling softly to yourself. Your head flopped onto their shoulder, your neck too lazy to support itself.

"-and i wanted to check up on you." That part caught your attention and made your stomach tense, in a pleasant way.

"Well, you did check up on me..." You whispered, still in a low mood, not feeling any better with time. Venture noticed.

"Aww come on, don't be like that!" They grabbed your sides through your shield of blankets, shaking and prodding you playfully. You only groaned at their attempts to make you feel better.

"Ughhh stop it!" You laughed. As groggy and moody as you were, that did lift your mood a bit. It was cute, you thought, how Venture would try to make you feel better despite your sour attitude.

"Come on, let me help you!" They moved to the edge of the bed, as if they were about to leave, one hand on your thigh. "I know, I'll go to the kitchen and grab you something, hm?"

"I don't have anything stored there right now..." Even though there was a cafeteria, everyone usually brought or made their own food and stored it in the shared kitchen and because of your current state you didn't meal prep anything for today.

"Eh, im sure i can find something we can borrow~" They threw you a wink and wide grin. You chuckled at their mischief. It was clear they were willing to go to great lengths to make you feel even slightly better, a blush crept up your cheeks at the thought. It was so sweet of them.

"So, any special requests?"

You thought for a moment. " Ice cream. Please. Im begging." You dramatically added. "Bring me ice cream, anything else might make me actually vomit..."

They lightly pat your thigh before sliding their hand off. "Alright, one order for ice cream! Be back soon!" they sung before hopping off the bed. They glanced your way with warm eyes before walking out the door, as if to tell you not to go anywhere while they were gone.

They didn't dare to say anything, but you looked so cute like this. You could clearly use some help or support, yet you wouldn't dare to bother anybody for it. They could think of several agents who would come running at your word if need be. It was like trying to help a stubborn sick cat, Venture thought as they left.

And so, you waited.

. . .

Your door slid open again and you saw Sloane hunched over, hurrying inside with a goofy smile, checking behind them as the door slid close. You immediately smiled upon seeing them. Their hand slid under their sweater and you watched as they clumsily pulled out a tub of ice cream that they were hiding. "Ah-cold-cold-cold!" they hissed. You laughed at the scene in front of you.

"Did anybody see you??" You questioned, still in awe.

"Psh! I hope not!" They hopped back on your bed next to you with other things in hand.

"Here is your ice cream" they wiggled their brows at you with a cheeky smile, clearly proud of the little thievery they just accomplished.

"Aaaand, since you have no other plans for today, i brought my book with me! I thought we could go over the errors together." They said excitedly as they pulled out a brand new beige book with golden rims. "It will help pass the time and keep your mind off of that uh, tornado inside you." They flashed their signature smile.

They were really sweet, just so so sweet. The care and consideration they showed for you made you feel so fuzzy inside and you couldn't stop smiling. It was an unusual feeling, but you enjoyed it. You smiled back at them.

"But before then, here, drink some tea, careful! Its hot." They handed you a hot mug of what smelled like... chamomile tea? You weren't entirely sure. "I forgot to ask which one you liked, but i heard this one is meant to soothe and relax... or something like that". They watched intently as you took a careful sip.

"Aah! Hot!" You hissed.

"Told you so" They chuckled at the funny face you made.

You put the mug aside to let it cool off a bit first. Instead, you gladly took the tub of ice cream off of Ventures hands. As you began digging in Venture scooted closer to you again and cozied up next to you in bed and you shared your blanket with them.

. . .

In between Sloanes reading, you would spoon feed them some of the ice cream. Their eyes remained glued to the pages and their voice now a little muffled with their mouth full of the cold sweets.

Sloanes warm voice and the sound of flipping pages proved to be much more relaxing than that tea. Their voice soon melted into the background and you focused on the sound of your own slow, steady breathing as your eyelids began to feel heavy. Soon your eyes fell closed. Still mindful of their presence next to you, you appreciated this moment and cozied up even closer as you shifted more of your weight onto Ventures arm. A soft blush tinted their cheeks as you let out a content sigh.

In turn, Venture lifted their arm, letting you rest on their chest instead. Their arm snaked around you, keeping you close and secure. The rumbling of their voice in their chest soon turned into a lullaby as Sloane continued their reading.

#god.#when is it my turn to be happy.#venture x reader #x reader #overwatch x reader #venture #sloane cameron #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #sfw

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allur1ngs · 10 months

Text

✮ bloody knuckles ✮

TW: angst to fluff!! i know the summary seems like pure angst but i swear its not! semi-graphic violence? , guns, kidnapping, bada and reader get into an argument, reader acts naively and a bit selfishly (but it’s okay, she’s young and makes up for it in the end), bada still having beef w your bodyguard, protective!bada, cold!bada (this time to you too…), violent & frusterated!bada, brief mentions of sexual activity (inc…toys, ass, boobs… sorry), use of the word unnie (about six or so times) brief mentions of drugs, a creepy woman, and a surprise character from the previous installment!

SUMMARY: breaking bada’s three rules for a night of partying backfires in ways you could’ve never imagined. now, you have to deal with the consequences of your lies

part iv. succumb (to me)

WC: 12.5k… get some popcorn y’all this is a long one

A/N: read this and this for more background on this au. i’m sure there are a ton of mistakes sprinkled throughout this fic so please ignore them, this took me so long to write and i just want to put it out on time… i promise i’ll edit it once i get the chance😭

DISCLAIMER: all characteristics portrayed are purely speculation and fiction, they are not meant to reflect bada or team bebe’s actual character, values, or attitudes. please keep this in mind!!

On an inconspicuous Thursday night, when a heat wave had just hit Seoul, you lounged in your lavish bed—free from sheets—scrolling through social media.

Pictures of cute animals and food fill your feed, making you smile down at your screen. You are about to like a particularly cute picture of a cat when a notification banner stops you midway. Your eyes flicker to the top of the screen, finding a message from your best friend, Jae Hwang.

Clicking on the notification, you're transferred into your messages app, and Jae’s text fills your screen. “Unnie, I haven’t seen you in so long!! Please come to the party I’m throwing tomorrow so we can catch up and have some fun~!"

Your lips fall open in mild surprise as you instinctively sit up. A party? You text Jae back quickly, asking the reason for the party and where it will be held.

“At my house, of course! We’re all gathering to celebrate your engagement!”

Your engagement… so your parents really hadn’t wasted any time spreading the good news. You’d barely been living with Bada for a month, and they’d already informed your friends. You shake your head and sigh rather loudly. Bada would greatly disapprove of your parents' loose lips. She preferred her privacy, not only for protection but also because she liked people staying out of her business. That much you could tell from the little time you’d had to get to know her.

Shifting your focus back to Jae’s unanswered text, you contemplate attending the party or skipping out. Though they were technically throwing it in your honor, they should have let you know beforehand instead of asking you the night before the party. You felt well within your rights to refuse, but a nagging thought holds you back.

What would you do instead? Technically, you had no plans on Friday night—or Friday at all for that matter. Saturday neither… nor Sunday. Really, you never had plans anymore. Since staying with Bada, you mostly remained inside the Lee mansion, either lounging by the large infinity pool, taking a dip in your personal Jacuzzi, or perhaps enjoying a film in the theater room on the second floor.

Or, if you wanted to leave home, you would be escorted by your bodyguard to certain malls, grocery stores, or establishments. All of which were either managed by Bada or by one of her partners. She made it clear to you from the start that going places not protected by one of her subordinates would be dangerous.

"I have connections to half the establishments in Seoul," she had muttered to you. It's incredible that despite the implications of the words falling from her mouth, Bada had a way of saying things so humbly. She didn't sound like she was boasting—though you wouldn't fault her if she was. "I bet some of the markets you entered when you were a child were run by my family, and you'd never have known."

You’d try your best to conceal your amazement at her confession, but the glow in your eyes was as clear as day to Bada. “And what about the rest?”

She let out a quiet breath, saying, "The rest are mostly run by rival gangs. Almost no stores or establishments are free of mafia influence. Not anymore, at least." Seeing the way your eyes shifted from bright to slightly apprehensive, she pushed her chair back and rose, walking around her desk before leaning on it and clutching onto its edges. "There's no need to worry about them. As long as you stay in areas where my people are, you are safe." Her hand came down to rest politely on your thigh, patting it in a comforting manner.

Her words made your stomach flutter with butterflies, and a giddy smile instinctively formed on your lips. For someone who claimed to want to avoid fostering romantic affection between you both, Bada seemed to be doing the exact opposite.

Before you could lose yourself in the tenderness of the memory, you climb out of bed, having made your decision. Because you barely left home as it is, what harm is there in going to a party? A party organized in your honor, no less. It’s a rare occasion, and truthfully, you miss Jae and the rest of your girlfriends. You haven’t seen them in over a month and texted them sparingly during that time. To be fair, it was mostly your fault—you were much too focused on getting to know Bada and adjusting to your new way of life to strike up conversations with them.

You nod your head firmly as if the action will help build your confidence before you grab onto the handle of your bedroom door and slowly open it. Standing to your right, the figure of your bodyguard, Hyo Kim, immediately greets you on the other side. She turns to face you, her black-tinted sunglasses obstructing your view of her eagle eyes.

“What are you doing up so late?” She says lightheartedly.

“Do you know if Bada is still awake?” You ask. “I wanted to ask her something.”

Hyo lifts her arm up, pushing aside the fabric of her suit to reveal a golden watch. She gazes down at it, pretending to think long and hard. “The Boss should be awake for about…” she trails off playfully, “another four hours.”

You chuckle under your breath, “I didn’t even need to ask, did I?”

“Not at all.” Hyo shakes her head while smirking.

“Alright then,” you clasp your hands together tightly, “I’m going to go see Bada.”

Hyo gestures ahead of you with her hand. “I’ll follow your lead.”

You nod quickly before advancing forward, her trailing close behind. You can’t lie; it was strange to have someone following after you almost every second of the day in the beginning. You remember that at the beginning of your stay at Lee mansion, you kept forgetting that Hyo was following you—she has the tendency to be extremely quiet when focused—and were jump-scared by her multiple times. You’d round corners and suddenly hear one of her heavier footsteps behind you, making you jump and your heart practically leap out of your chest.

At some point, you swear she started doing it on purpose, enjoying the look of fear you gave her when you jumped. Eventually, though, you started to grow used to her constantly lingering presence and even grew comfortable around her. Somewhere along the way, you’d both gotten to know each other more, and a slow but harmonious friendship grew.

“So, what are you going to ask the Boss about?” Hyo’s low and blithe voice cuts through the silence.

“Oh,” you begin, “my friend asked me to meet her and some of my other friends tomorrow night.”

“Really?” Hyo comments, her voice dripping with an emotion you can’t quite decipher.

“Yes,” you affirm. “I wanted to ask Bada if it’s okay for me to visit her.”

Hyo hums under her breath in acknowledgment. “She’ll appreciate that.”

“I hope so.” You smile lightly to yourself. “I just thought that since you follow me wherever I go, she’d find out either way, and I might as well get her thoughts on it.”

“Not to crush your hopes and dreams, kid, but I doubt she’ll say yes.” Hyo remarks.

“Really?” You pause and turn around to face her, a frown forming on your lips.

“The Boss values your safety more than anything else,” Hyo shrugs. “Meeting people she isn’t familiar with puts you at risk.”

“But they’re my friends.” You push back lightly.

“I get that, but like I said, the Boss only cares about keeping you safe.” Hyo raises her hands up in defeat.

You deflate at her words, acknowledging that she’s most likely right. After all the events that’d taken place in the span of a single month, you honestly wouldn’t hold it against Bada to be cautious of where you go. But at the same time, you can’t help but feel mild resentment at the fact that you aren’t even allowed to see your friends.

“Hey,” Hyo frowns at you like a scolding sister. “Don’t be discouraged. You haven’t even asked her yet. You never know; she just might say yes.”

You pick your head up at her words, slowly but surely nodding back. “Yeah, you’re right.” And with that, you continue walking down the corridor to Bada’s office until you reach the dark mahogany wood of her door. Lightly rapping on it, there’s a period of silence before you hear the low tenor of her voice speak up.

“Lusher, if you’re coming to ask me if I’ve finished the paperwork for POSCO’s deal, for the millionth time the answer is no, I haven’t.” Bada’s disgruntled voice makes you laugh to yourself, and you immediately bring your hand up to cover your mouth as you grin widely.

“Is now a bad time to see you, then?” You answer back cheekily.

You receive no response for a solid minute before the sound of papers rustling loudly and approaching footsteps reaches your ears. The door to Bada’s office opens, and there she stands in all her glory, looking rather flustered. “Sorry. I thought you were Lusher.”

You smile at Bada while shaking your head. “It’s alright. Can I come in?”

“Of course.” She steps aside, making room for you to walk into her office while she holds the door open for you. You say a quick thank you as pass through the threshold, missing how Bada lets the door swing closed behind her and shuts out Hyo. “So, is there a reason why you’re visiting me? It’s very late into the night; I expected you to be asleep already.”

“Well, I was about to go to sleep, but I got a text from Jae—” you pause upon seeing her frown. “my best friend.”

Bada nods in acknowledgment, moving toward a chair and pushing it back, gesturing for you to sit down. You do so, trying to ignore the nervous tension building in the pit of your stomach.

“Yeah, she invited—” you pause, choosing your next words carefully. Phrasing Jae’s invitation as a party would most likely mean Bada wouldn't let you go. So, if you just tweaked your wording a bit to make the party seem less extreme… it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, right? “she invited me to a get-together between friends.”

“A get-together?” Bada questions, folding her hands across her lap as she leans on the edge of her office table. “For what purpose?”

“Just to catch up and… celebrate our engagement.” You gesture between you both, immediately noticing how Bada’s expression shifts, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“They know of our engagement?” She asks.

“Yes,” you sigh. “I guess my parents couldn’t keep their excitement in check.”

“Your parents.” Bada shakes her head, pinching her nose-bridge tiredly. “I’ll have to have a word with them about that.”

“Please do.” You nod rapidly. “But aside from that, what I wanted to ask you was if I could be escorted to the get-together tomorrow night?”

Bada moves her gaze from the floor to your eyes, removes her hand from her face, and gives you a hesitant expression. “I don’t know… after all the incidents recently…” she trails off, a faraway look finding her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want you to feel like you’re a prisoner in your own home, or that you can’t see your friends, I just want you to be safe.”

“I get that, I really do, Bada, but this is just a small get-together.” You lie between your teeth.

Bada stays quiet, looking to be considering your words. “And you trust your friends, right?”

“I do.”

Bada lets out a light breath, while a small smile finds her lips. “All right then, you can go.”

“Really?” You give her a shocked look before you snap out of it and practically squeal, jumping up from your chair and instinctively wrapping your arms around Bada’s shoulders in a hug. “Thank you so much!”

Bada freezes in her spot, surprised by your affection. Slowly, a warm, sappy feeling builds at the bottom of her stomach, and her hands, which had been propped up in the air stiffly, gently come down to rest against your back, patting it tenderly. “You’re welcome.” She tries not to think about how lovely you feel against her or the allure of your natural scent.

You spend all Friday preparing for the party, choosing your makeup beforehand, your jewelry, shoes, and of course, your dress—a beautiful wine-red ensemble that you’d picked up on your shopping trip with Bada. She’d chosen it for you—claiming, “This dress would look beautiful on you.” The meaning behind her words, that it wasn’t the dress that was beautiful, but instead your figure that would make it look divine, had struck you in that moment.

If Bada wanted you to wear the dress, you’d buy it in a heartbeat.

For the little hours left you have in the day, you try not to get too giddy thinking of the party or how magnificent you’ll look in the dress, instead trying to busy yourself by catching up on one of your favorite TV shows. But when the milky raven sky begins to take over the horizon, you jump off of the couch, rushing to your room, leaving Hyo to scramble after you.

In your bedroom, you sit down at your antique-styled vanity, your makeup laid out in front of you. You begin prepping your skin before beginning your usual routine. It takes you a slightly longer time for you to finish because you’re being incredibly meticulous, but by the end of it, you look amazing. Before you can get distracted, you quickly dress yourself.

As your fingers curl around the clasp of your teardrop diamond earrings and secure them in place, you take a step back to gaze at yourself in your floor-length mirror.

The win-red dress hugs your body, accentuating every favorable feature of it. A similar dark rouge to your dress is blended across your eyelids in a smoky eye, making the color of your eyes pop in contrast. Your lips, fixed into a slight pout, are glossy and soft, tinted with a color of your choice. Taking your look all together, all you can say is that Bada was right—the dress does look beautiful on you.

A knock on your bedroom door startles you, your hand instinctively flying to your chest. "Hello?" You respond, a bit on edge.

"It's me. Can I come in?" Bada's voice, muffled behind the door, reaches you.

"Yes," you reply, hastily adjusting your dress and double-checking your appearance.

Bada enters just as your hands fall to your sides, her gaze immediately scanning your figure. She appraises you, from collarbones to legs, before fixing her eyes on your chest for a lingering moment.

Suppressing a nervous giggle, you greet her, "Hi, Bada."

Her eyes quickly snap up to meet yours, a sheepish cough escaping her mouth. "Hello."

Standing awkwardly by the door, Bada stares at you for a solid minute before you give a lighthearted smile. "Is there something you needed?"

"Uhh, no. Well, actually..." Bada stumbles over her words, closing her eyes in embarrassment. "Sorry, yes. I wanted to see you before you left."

You release a small breath of understanding before a cheeky thought crosses your mind. Walking closer to Bada, you do a little twirl when you reach her. "So, what do you think?"

Bada exhales while chuckling, her nervousness leaving her. "I think you are the most beautiful woman I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes upon."

Out of shock, you remain still, surprised by how unabashedly Bada expressed her thoughts. You expected a simple compliment, but she exceeded your expectations. "Really?" You ask quietly, sensing a shift in the room's atmosphere. An air of intimacy and something more sensual makes your skin prickle and breath hitch.

"Of course. There's no one I could think of that could make that dress look so stunning." Bada looks back at you with a serious and genuine expression.

"Bada..." you trail off, immediately thinking of countless other women who could wear the dress better. Supermodels, actresses—

"I think there's just one simple thing that would finish off the look." Bada's voice brings you back, and you give her a questioning stare. She smiles, her hand digging into her pocket before presenting you a sleek black box. Your confusion deepens as she opens it, revealing the most elegant necklace you've ever seen. Matching teardrop diamonds, akin to those on your earrings circle the chain, glittering against the low bedroom light. At the center, a silver locket shaped like a dainty heart ties it all together.

You stare at the necklace in awe, alternating between Bada's eyes and the exquisite piece of jewelry. "Bada, it's beautiful."

She watches you marvel at it, sparkles dancing in your eyes. Giving you a fond look, she nudges the box closer. "Take it."

Hesitating for a brief second, you gently retrieve the necklace. "Wow," you breathe out, fully admiring its beauty now that it’s free from the box.

"You should put it on," Bada encourages you softly.

“Oh, I shouldn’t—” you protest.

“I insist,” she cuts you off, tucking the box back into her pocket. She steps forward, taking the necklace from your hands and moving behind you. “Here, let me.” She places it across your collarbones and brings the clasp together, her long fingers brushing across your skin.

Her touch ignites a spark, but as quickly as it appeared, her fingers are gone. She steps back, placing her hands on your waist to move you back so that you’re facing your mirror again. But this time, Bada's at your side, admiring how exquisite you look.

“Absolutely perfect,” she whispers into your ear.

The warmth from her touch lingers as you stare at Bada through the mirror. “Thank you.” You bask in the comfortable silence in the room for a moment before speaking up again. “Can I ask, did you buy this?”

Bada places her hands atop your shoulders, a soft, wistful look finding her irises. “It was my mother’s.”

Immediately, you whip around to face her, your mouth wide open in mortification, and your eyes the size of saucers. “Bada, why didn’t you tell me?” Your hands frantically try to find the clasp of the necklace, wanting to take it off. “Here—”

“No.” Bada’s hands find yours, holding them and stopping you from removing the jewelry. “Don’t take it off.”

“But Bada, this was your mom’s—”

“And I want you to have it,” Bada states firmly.

“I can’t—”

“Are you rejecting my gift?” Although her words sound accusatory, when you look into her eyes, there’s a glint of amusement in them.

You let out a huff of defeat. “Fine.”

Bada smirks proudly, removing her hands from yours. “Good.”

After bidding farewell to Bada, Hyo swiftly whisks you away to a black Jeep, one that, according to her, is "much more secure than a sports car." Seated in the front, she drives and engages in casual conversation while you relax in the back. You take the opportunity to share stories about each of your best friends—Jae, the liveliest, Da-Eun, the second oldest, Min-Ji, the oldest, and Ryung, the youngest and most timid. Hyo listens attentively, interjecting with comments or laughter at your anecdotes.

“You all seem to be very close,” she remarks, steering the wheel to the left.

“Yeah, we are. We’ve known each other since childhood, and our parents are all friends,” you reply.

“Those types of friends… you should hold onto them,” Hyo advises. “In this line of business, it’s hard to find someone you can trust as much as you four trust each other.”

You gaze at your bodygaurd through the rear-view mirror, sensing the weight behind her words. "Hyo?" You inquire.

"Yeah?"

"Does Bada find it hard to trust other people?"

Her lips tighten, an audible exhale leaving her nose. "She hasn't fully placed her trust in anyone since the day Mrs. Lee died."

A somber atmosphere envelops the car, akin to a bucket of ice-cold water. You shift in your seat uncomfortably, your heart aching at the thought of the pain Bada must have endured when her mother was killed. "Bada was still young when she passed, wasn’t she?"

"Fifteen," Hyo nods. "Barely beginning her climb towards adulthood."

A stark silence follows after, and the rest of the car ride is silent, filled only with the quiet hum of the Jeep’s engine and the sounds of passersby. It's not uncomfortable, but rather solemn, as if you and Hyo are silently mourning Mrs. Lee's memory.

Fifteen minutes later, Hyo's driving slows as she turns into a large house—though noticeably smaller than your shared one with Bada, of course. The GPS on the tablet beeps, signaling your arrival at the destination. "We’re here," her voice rings through the background noise.

You turn away from the window you’d been gazing out of, a smile forming on your lips at the sight of Jae’s house. Out of your group, Jae always had the most luxurious home, because though all of you came from affluent families, Jae's parents were the wealthiest. Well, it seemed like now the dynamic had changed. Once you and Bada are officially wed, your combined wealth will likely rival all of theirs combined.

"How long do you think you’ll be staying?" Hyo asks.

"I'd like to say it won't take that long, but knowing my friends, I might be here all night," you admit.

"Alright." Hyo parks the Jeep in the driveway, exits, then moves to open your door. You offer a quiet thank you as she helps you step out, mindful of the relatively short length of your dress.

Leading the way to Jae's house, you pause before knocking. Judging by the time, it seems you arrived slightly early, which in party terms means very early. Fortunately, that likely means no other partygoers are here yet, as evidenced by the absence of parked cars in the driveway.

"Actually, Hyo?" you turn back to face her, a sheepish look on your face. "Could you maybe… wait outside?"

Your bodyguard raises her eyebrows, crossing her arms across her chest. "I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on you."

"I know that, but I think the girls will be thrown off by the fact that you’ll just be standing there… watching us the entire night." Though your reasoning is somewhat woven with lies, it's also partly true.

Hyo remains silent, giving you an unimpressed look. "I have a job to do."

"Technically, you can do it from out here," you weakly argue. "Please, I want to feel like a normal person again. Like my life isn’t constantly at risk, and I always need to be monitored."

Although you can’t see the look Hyo’s giving you behind her sunglasses, you notice her posture deflating, and her shoulders falling. She releases a defeatist breath, "Fine, I’ll keep an eye out from here."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You express with a grateful smile.

"Yeah, yeah, never say I haven’t done anything for you," Hyo grumbles. "Oh, and don’t forget I have your location on my phone, so don’t even think about sneaking out because I’ll know."

"I wouldn’t dare," you joke.

"Right…" your bodyguard trails off. "I’ll be waiting in the car. If you need anything, just call or text me, and I’ll be out in an instant."

"Yup, thanks!" You give Hyo a thumbs up, and with that, she retreats back to the Jeep. You watch her go, a sudden wave of guilt crashing over you.

She'd probably be much more comfortable in Jae’s house, sitting down or enjoying the air conditioning, rather than waiting for countless hours in the Jeep while you gossip and talk to your friends. But you're in too deep now. You can’t tell her the truth or let her in, or she’ll whisk you away back to the mansion, and all your white lies will have been for naught.

Biting your lip, you cast one last look at Hyo before knocking on the front door. Silence greets you for a few minutes before you hear shuffling approach the door, and it opens. Jae’s face greets you on the other side, her eyes immediately sparkling at the sight of you.

"Oh my god!" She squeals, bringing you into a hug and squeezing you tight. "I’m so glad you’re here!" She rocks back and forth in the hug, making you laugh giddily. "I missed you so much!" When she pulls back, she’s wearing a pout across her red-tinted lips. "Don’t ghost me for a month again, okay? Or I’ll steal you away from your wife!"

"I missed you too," you say fondly. "But we’re not married yet—"

"Oh, come on, you’re engaged to Bada Lee! You’re married in every sense except legally." Jae rolls her eyes playfully, though they stray a bit before landing on something—or rather, someone—behind you. "Who’s that?" She points at the Jeep, where Hyo is sitting in the front seat, trying not to look like she's watching you.

"That’s Hyo Kim, my bodyguard."

"Your bodyguard?" Jae awes before pouting. "Why am I even surprised? Of course, Bada Lee would have her fiancée under lock and key." Jae grabs your hand, giving it a light squeeze before her expression shifts, a sly smile curving her lips. "So tell me, have you two done it yet? Is she dominant? Is she more of a boobs girl or an ass girl—"

"Jae!" You shout, eyes wide and voice full of mortification. "Are you serious right now?"

"Come on, tell me! I want to know all the stuff you haven’t told me over the past month. You owe it to me!" She whines.

You let out a long sigh. You suppose this is your karma for unintentionally ignoring your best friend for so long. "At least invite me in first, Jae. Don’t you have any manners?" You lightly scold her.

"Oh, right." She looks behind her, realizing that while she’s inside her home, you’re still outside the threshold, waiting for her to invite you in. She looks like she’s about to take a step back so you can enter before she pauses, a thoughtful expression crossing her features. "Wait, does she use toys—"

"Alright, that’s enough!" You push Jae further into her house and step inside, swinging the door shut rather loudly behind you.

Once inside, you scold her for a solid five minutes straight about manners before the two of you properly greet each other and begin a normal, casual conversation—thankfully with no mention of your and Bada’s sexual activity, or lack thereof. Instead, you're practically interrogated by Jae about every aspect of your life with Bada while you help her finish setting up for the party.

You stack up red solo cups, place beers into multiple coolers, and set out chasers. Thankfully, it doesn’t take much for the two of you to finish, and once you do, you simply lounge around a bit. Jae takes the break as an opportunity to compliment how amazing you look in your dress.

"Is that Chanel?" She asks, motioning for you to do a spin.

"Yes." You nod, doing as she wishes. "Bada picked it out for me."

"I bet she’s regretting her decision right now." Your friend giggles. "No one’s going to be able to resist you tonight!"

"Jae, stop exaggerating." You laugh.

Your lighthearted conversation continues until slowly but surely, party guests begin to arrive. They come in small waves, all dressed much more elegantly than the average partygoer. You assume they must be some of Jae’s rich friends that you’ve heard about only in passing because you don’t recognize some of them. The thought sends a small prickle of worry to the back of your mind, but you choose to ignore it for now. Instead, you greet each guest kindly, albeit rather awkwardly.

As the dark sky deepens in color, the living room starts to get more and more crowded, the rest of your friends arriving along with other guests. Min-Ji gets there first, wearing a classy black cocktail dress. She greets you with the same enthusiasm as Jae, but her demeanor is slightly more controlled, her older age shining through.

Next, Da-Eun arrives, dressed in green, and lastly, Ryung. By the time she settles in, the party is in full swing, music leaking out of speakers, and beers being passed around. You’re fully immersed in the atmosphere, happy to be surrounded by your girls and other somewhat familiar faces. You can’t lie, partying with your friends really puts into perspective the loneliness you hid behind your home’s mansion walls.

But in contrast to your free spirit, Hyo is struggling. Multiple cars have begun to pull into the driveway, groups of people entering the house and giving her a peek inside. The home has many more people than it should for a "small gathering."

Her first instinct was to exit the Jeep and head toward the door to end your night prematurely, as well as tell you off for not only lying to her but also to Bada. However, through one of the windows, your silhouette peaks through, the light in the living room shining against your features and displaying your expression of pure joy as you dance with your friends and sip beer.

She stops mid-stride, conflict brewing in the confines of her mind. Deep down, she knows you deserve to enjoy yourself. Being stuck in a mansion—while large and full of entertainment—is nothing compared to the comfort of being with friends, partying, and drinking. “Fuck.” Hyo mutters under her breath, passing a hand through her hair in frustration. She takes another look at your smiling figure through the window, then turns back. “The Boss is going to kill me if she finds out about this.”

She stays back in the Jeep for another hour or so, listening to the music coming from inside the house and the loud chatter, keeping an eye out while checking her phone every other minute. Your location never moves, thankfully. It seems that you have the foresight not to take it as far as sneaking away from her for some fun.

But, of course, there’s no need for you to do so because the party is practically buzzing with energy. Couples and friends dance together, grinding and touching each other playfully, while some are playing cup pong or various other party games in corners of the room. You, on the other hand, have moved away from dancing, instead cooling off with another beer as your friends chatter amongst each other.

“You’ll never guess what happens next!” Jae grabs onto Min-Ji, tugging on her hands with poorly concealed excitement.

“What?” Min-Ji indulges her younger friend.

“Bada stops him right before he leaves the store just by saying, ‘And where do you think you're going?’” Jae lowers her voice and puts on a serious expression when imitating your fiancée.

“Really?” Min-Ji's eyes find your figure, a small smile curving her lips upward.

You smile back at her shyly, nodding.

“And then, she makes the asshole pick up her clothes from the ground!” Jae divulges.

“Does he do it?” Da-Eun cuts in, smirking widely.

“Of course he does! Like a little worm, he picks up all the clothes and gives them to her.” Jae points at you, letting go of Min-Ji’s hands.

“Bada must have a very strong presence,” Ryung comments quietly.

“More like everyone in the store was on Bada’s payroll,” Jae snorts. “Right Unnie, didn’t you say Bada has ties to half the population of Seoul?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “I think everyone in that store had guns on them.”

“How do you know?” Min-Ji asks.

“Well, they were all putting their hands in their pockets like they were going to pull out a firearm,” you reminisce. “And they were all staring between the man and Bada like they were waiting for her word to dispose of him.”

“It’s so crazy hearing about it.” Jae whines. “I wish I was there!”

“Don’t say that.” Min-Ji scolds her. “It must have been scary at the time, wasn’t it?” She looks back at you, posing the question.

“I wasn’t really scared for myself.” You shake your head. “I was more scared for the man. You should have seen the way Bada was looking at him.”

“I can imagine it now.” Jae tries to imitate a hardened and scary glare but ends up failing.

“You just look like you’re constipated.” Da-Eun laughs loudly, pointing at a now offended Jae. The younger girl hits Da-Eun, whining about how she was really trying to look serious.

You join in laughing with Da-Eun and Min-Ji at Jae, when you suddenly feel a tug on your right hand. Your laughter dies down as you turn to face Ryung, who’s looking between you and another corner of the room. You give her a confused look, trying to find what she’s gazing at. “Ryung? Is something wrong?”

“A woman's been staring at you since she got here.” Ryung whispers, casting her eyes to the other corner of the room.

You follow her line of sight to an unfamiliar, relatively attractive woman dressed in a loose white dress shirt and slacks. She has fiery red hair and a boyish look. She’s already watching you, her eyes unabashedly trailing up and down your figure, completely unbothered by the fact that you caught her staring. In fact, she smirks back at you.

You turn away from her quickly, a prickle of anxiety running up your spine. Though most would be excited at being ogled by an attractive woman, there’s something about her gaze that unnerves you. It's like she knows something you don’t.

“Do you know her?” Ryung asks, a worried look crossing her features.

“No.” You shake your head, a trembling breath leaving your lips. “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

Da-Eun, Min-Ji, and Jae stop laughing at the sound of your nervous voice, turning to face you with questioning looks.

“What’s going on?” Min-Ji asks, noticing your rigid posture and Ryung’s grim expression.

Jae mutters your name, her voice becoming uncharacteristically quiet.

“There’s this woman that’s been staring at Unnie the entire night.” Ryung secretly motions towards you, then looks back at the woman with red hair. All of your friends' eyes follow, seeing how the woman gazes at you darkly; even with all their eyes on her, she doesn’t cower. Instead, she continues to watch you.

“Alright.” Da-Eun rubs her hands together, her expression dripping with anger. “Let me go have a word with her—”

“Not so fast.” Min-Ji grabs onto Da-Eun’s arm, pulling her back and keeping her from advancing toward the woman. “Jae, do you know her?”

Jae bites her lip, shaking her head. “I don’t remember inviting anyone that looks like that.”

“Then let me—” Da-Eun tries to wiggle out of Min-Ji’s hold but is unsuccessful.

“Don’t be so rash.” Min-Ji asserts. “Let’s just ignore her. If she decides to bother you directly, we’ll be here, okay?” She looks back at you with a caring expression, placing her hand on your shoulder.

“Okay.” You agree shakily, turning your back toward the woman’s direction.

For the rest of the night, you constantly feel her eyes on you. Though you try to act normal, a spike of fear runs up your body when you see someone approach you or accidentally brush up against you while you dance with your friends. You consider asking Hyo to come get you, but you don’t want to sour the mood of your friends. So you deal with her predatory gaze, and do your best to ignore her overwhelming presence.

Hyo’s eyes scan the neighborhood leisurely when a notification banner pops up at the top of her screen. Her eyes snap toward it, finding a text message from none other than her boss light up the screen. She takes in a deep breath as she presses it, her screen being moved to the message app.

Bada’s text reads, “How’s it going?”

Hyo lets out a sigh of relief, quickly texting back, “Good, she’s having fun.” She watches Bada’s text bubble show up soon after indicating she was writing, but it disappears a few seconds later. Hyo takes the opportunity to add, “Her friends are very lively.”

Bada’s text bubble appears again, but this time she sends a message saying, “Focus on doing your job.” Hyo huffs under her breath, exiting out of the messaging app and switching back to managing your location.

Her brief distraction keeps her from noticing a new group of men heading toward the house. Most slip in, it’s only until the last is about to cross inside that Hyo looks up, her eyes catching a baggy of white powder one of the men is carrying.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” She hisses. Immediately she exits the car, dialing Bada’s personal phone as she races up the driveway and slips into the house behind the man.

Inside, you’re slowly becoming more and more unnerved by the red-haired woman. Your friends try to take you around the living room, using the other partygoer’s bodies as a shield between you two, but she doesn’t allow them to. She moves through the crowd until she has a clear view of you again, then just stands there, her gaze unwavering.

“She really doesn’t give up, huh?” Min-Ji curses under her breath.

“What a creep,” Da-Eun adds.

“Are you okay?” Ryung asks you.

“I don’t know.” You admit, rubbing your arm uncomfortably.

“Hold on,” Jae cuts in. “I think she’s coming this way.”

Four pairs of eyes snap in the direction Jae is looking, finding the woman weaving through the crowd of partygoers in an attempt to reach you.

This time your entire body goes rigid, intense fear running through your veins as your friends rally around you, muttering comforting words. Their voices and the loud bass of the music in the background fade away, all you’re able to focus on is the woman with red hair only a few feet away from you now.

She’s just about to reach you when a firm grip grabs onto your arm, pulling you away from your friends. You jump at the person’s touch, instinctively trying to recoil away before you turn to see a familiar face.

“Hyo.” You breathe out in relief.

“We’re leaving right now.” She says firmly, pulling you through the crowd of people.

“Hey!” Da-Eun surges forward at the sight of Hyo taking you away. “Who are you–?”

“No, it’s okay, that’s her bodyguard,” Jae informs your friends.

Your friends share resounding noises of astoundment before Hyo starts to firmly push you toward the exit. You say a hurried goodbye to them, catching out of the corner of your eye the red-haired woman. She’s now wearing a frown as she quickly retreats into the crowd of dancing bodies, hiding away from your gaze, as well as Hyo’s.

The entirety of the drive back home is dead silent, but this time it’s not comfortable. Hyo’s lips are set into thin and firm lines, her expression unchanging as she switches lanes and drives through the jet-black night. You try to will your voice to work and make idle conversation, but the words get stuck in your throat, a deep feeling of regret pooling at the depths of your stomach.

The car ride back unfortunately felt much shorter than the ride to Jae’s house had. One minute you're just barely pulling out of her driveway, and the next you're passing the gates into your mansion's driveway.

Hyo parks the car, exiting quickly and opening the door for you like she always does. You still say thank you, but this time she doesn’t acknowledge it, she simply lets you take the lead as you begin the walk of shame into your home.

Walking through the front door, the first floor is eerily quiet, missing the sounds of Bebe walking around or talking amongst themselves. You hesitate before walking up the right spiral staircase to the second floor, then move to your right toward the direction of your bedroom.

“We’re going this way.” Hyo breaks her silence, motioning with her thumb behind her, toward the corridor that leads to Bada’s office. You gulp but say nothing in response, instead choosing to listen to her and head toward your fiancée.

The sound of both your and Hyo’s footsteps echoing against the cold marble floor causes even more unease in your mind, the feeling all but tripling when you see a dark mahogany door come into view. You stop right in front of it, your legs starting to feel weak and your hands sweating. You try to build up your courage to knock on the door, but Hyo’s already a step ahead of you.

She doesn’t bother to knock, she simply grabs ahold of the door handle and pushes it open. She gestures for you to head inside which you do timidly, the door closing right behind you.

Inside the office, your eyes immediately find Bada’s figure. She’s sitting in her chair like she always is, looking incredibly tired. And instead of wearing a soft expression at the sight of you, her face is blank, not a single wisp of emotion to be seen.

“Sit down.” Her voice cuts through the tension in the air.

You do as she says, noting that she doesn’t get up to pull your chair back for you like she normally does. “Bada,” you begin, voice quiet and full of remorse.

“I heard you had fun tonight.” She cuts you off, her tone harsh. “A party, was it?”

You close your eyes in embarrassment. “I’m sorry–”

“Are you?” She interrupts you again. “Truthfully, are you?”

“Yes.” You say frantically, trying to convince her. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”

“You had multiple opportunities to tell me the truth.” Bada asserts, her hands coming in front of her to clasp together tightly. “The night before when I asked you about your so-called ‘get-together.’" She lists, "You could have told me anytime today, or Hyo when she was driving you. Instead, you unabashedly lied to my face and deceived me.”

You swear the wind is knocked out of your chest at her words. Her dark brown, almost grey eyes are cutting into yours, wounding your heart as you will something, anything out of your mute vocal cords. “Please believe me.”

“I can’t.” Bada shakes her head. “All I asked of you was three things.” Much like she had when you first arrived at the Lee mansion, she holds up three corresponding fingers. “Tell me the truth, remain loyal, and never put yourself in unnecessary danger.” She places all three fingers down. “Somehow you managed to disobey all of them in the span of a single night.”

Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, and heaving breaths start to build in your windpipe. You can deal with Bada being upset with you, but there’s something about her calm disappointment that hurts you more than you could have ever imagined.

“What would have happened if someone at that party brought a gun, hm? What if they knew who you are to me? What if they wanted to hurt me by hurting you?” Her voice slowly rises in volume but never reaches a full yell. “More than anything, you put yourself in danger. All for the sake of a good time.”

You hang your head in shame, acknowledging that she’s right.

“I can’t trust you anymore.” She states plainly.

Your head snaps up from its hunched position, your eyes widening at the implication of her words. “What? Bada, what does that mean?”

Your fiancée remains quiet for a moment, her blank look doing nothing to soothe your heightening fear. Then, she speaks up. “It’s late, you should go to sleep.”

“Go to sleep?” You cry. “Bada–”

“I’m sorry, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” She tears her eyes away from yours, staring to her right. “I can’t look at you right now.”

Her words are the final blow to your breaking heart. You stand up from your chair loudly, attempting to hide your devastated expression as tears fall from your eyes in steady streams. You race over to the door, pull it open, and run out of the office, accidentally bumping into Hyo on your way out. You don’t say anything to her, simply wanting to get as far away as possible.

Lusher, who’d been rounding the corner about to head into Bada’s office catches sight of your teary eyes and sighs. She makes eye contact with Hyo, sharing a knowing look with her before entering the office.

“I’m not in the mood, Lusher,” Bada mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.

“Don’t you think you were a little too hard on her?” Lusher contends.

“She put her life at risk,” Bada states firmly.

“She went to a party, so what? She’s at the age where she’s supposed to be having fun with her friends, clubbing and drinking.”

“She lied to me,” Bada argues.

“Listen, I know that–” before Lusher can finish her sentence, the door to Bada’s office opens again, this time much more violently. Hyo stands in the doorway, a worried look encompassing her features.

“What now?” Bada snaps at her.

“Boss,” Hyo huffs. “the keys to the Jeep are gone.”

“What?” Bada stands up with urgency, her blank expression morphing into nothing but unrivaled anger. “Where did you put them?”

“I had them in my pocket–” Hyo freezes, a look of realization glinting in her eyes before she stops and runs a hand down her face in frustration. “Your fiancée pickpocketed me.”

“She pickpocketed you?” Lusher says incredulously. “So she just left? But it’s dangerous to be out this late, and in that dress–”

“Lusher, gather all of Bebe.” Bada interrupts her, voice loud and commanding. “You,” she points at Hyo. “find her. Now.”

“Yes, boss.” Lusher and Hyo say in unison, scrambling to do what their superior asked of them.

Meanwhile, Bada remains standing behind her desk, a mix of fear and unadulterated anger building in her. She feels immediate regret for the way she’d treated and spoken to you. She never should have let you leave in such a vulnerable, and most likely intoxicated state.

She could never forgive herself if something happened to you because of your argument. She slams her hands down on her desk, almost breaking it with the amount of force she uses.

Bada storms out of her office, heading down the corridor toward her bedroom, pushing the door open before heading toward her bedside table. She opens the first drawer, revealing a black pistol. She grabs it, about to exit her bedroom when her eyes catch the portrait of her mother hanging just above her bedside table. She takes a moment to face it, her face morphing into a grim expression.

“I won’t fail you, mother.”

Lusher, Tatter, Kyma, Minah, Chehe, and Soweon, otherwise known as Bebe are all gathered in the armory room, guns in their hands. Lusher dons a sniper, Tatter a pump shotgun, Kyma a handgun, Minah a rifle, Cheche a break action, and Soweon a pistol.

“She managed to pickpocket Hyo?” Soweon exclaims, loading her pistol with bullets. “How is that possible?”

“She must not be as innocent as we thought.” Cheche comments. “Out of all of us, Hyo is the most alert and aware of her surroundings. She has some skill.”

“Enough talking.” Lusher cuts in, clicking a magazine into her sniper. “We’re wasting time. Boss wants us to find her as soon as possible.”

Bebe falls into line, following their second-in-command to the first level of the Lee mansion where Hyo is, tapping her foot against the marbled floor impatiently.

“Do you know where she is?” Bada’s booming voice causes all her subordinates to freeze. It’s brimming with urgency, and full of poison.

Hyo looks up at where her boss is standing at the top of the spiral staircase, her aura demonstrating absolute authority. “I think she’s lost her phone.”

“What do you mean?” Tatter speaks up.

“The location stopped moving right in front of her friend, Jae’s house. But it’s not inside, it’s farther down the road.”

The room becomes astoundingly quiet, so silent you could most certainly hear a pin drop. Although no one has the heart to say it, they all know the truth. You’ve been taken.

But then, Bada’s heavy footsteps begin descending the stairs, her eyes alit with a fiery passion and her eyes fixed into a firm glare.

“We’re finding my fiancée.” She demands. “And if she’s not home by the end of the night, it’ll be your head on a pike.” She points at Hyo, her pistol held firmly in her other hand.

“Yes, Boss,” Hyo says fearlessly. Truthfully, she felt partially at fault for what had happened. If she had only brought you home the second she realized you were throwing a party, or if she paid more attention when you bumped into her, you would be here, safe.

Before they can all head out, Bada’s phone buzzes in her pocket. She stops, pulling it out and observing the caller ID. Her eyes widen when she sees it, immediately pressing the answer button and holding the phone up to her ear. She mutters your name into the speaker, causing all of Bebe to freeze and look at her in shock.

“Where are you?” Bada says, voice soft and full of worry.

“Hello?” A voice that is most certainly not yours greets her ears.

Bada’s expression shifts immediately, her eyes narrowing to slits and her voice dropping. “Who the fuck is this?”

“Are you Bada Lee?” The voice says hurriedly.

“Yes. How did you get this phone? Where is my fiancée?” Bada demands.

“This is Jae, Unnie’s best friend.”

“Jae?” Bada says, her tone calming the slightest bit. “Where is she?”

“Bada, you need to come here quick.” She cries. “Unnie called me a few minutes ago saying she wanted to stay the night with me, but right when I saw her pulling into the driveway, another car parked beside her, and I think they took her!”

Bada’s hands form fists as she motions with her head for Bebe to go into the garage full of cars. They do so immediately, piling into a modified and armored SUV with a sunroof. Lusher sits behind the wheel while Hyo takes the passenger’s seat. The rest of the girls sit in the back, guns positioned in their laps, Minah poking out of the sunroof with her rifle propped up in front of her.

Bada follows after them, getting into her personal, fortified sports car as the door to the garage slowly begins to open. She puts Jae on speaker, “Did you see who took her?”

“It was dark, but I recognized one person,” Jae confirms. “It was this woman who was at the party I threw for Unnie. She was staring at her the entire night like a creep.”

“What does she look like?” Bada asks through her teeth.

“She’s wearing a white dress shirt, a pair of black pants… oh, and she has very vibrant, red hair!”

Bada pulls up next to Bebe’s car, her eyes meeting Lusher’s, a new type of rage building in her irises. “Seong.”

When you awake from your slumber there’s a pounding ache at the back of your head, and your eyes are blurry. You blink as you try to gather your bearings and sit up, but your arms are held behind your back by something. You start to panic, your head whipping around as you begin to remember what had happened just before you lost consciousness.

You’d been driving the Jeep toward Jae’s house whilst sobbing uncontrollably, realizing that your selfishness would most likely cost you your engagement to Bada.

When you were a few minutes away from Jae, you called her with trembling hands, breathing heavily into your phone.

Your friend muttered your name into the phone, sounding like she’d just woken up.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice shook with emotions. “Is it okay if I stay with you for the night?”

“Of course,” Jae answered immediately. “But what’s wrong? Have you been crying?”

“Bada and I got into a fight.” You admitted. “I think she’s going to call off the engagement.”

“What?” Jae’s incredulous voice rang out of the phone.

“I’ll tell you everything in a second, I’m right next to your house.” You made a left into Jae’s neighborhood, finding the lights in her house on. You parked a little further down the street, seeing stray liquor bottles and red solo cups littering her lawn, most likely thrown away by her drunk party guests. “Okay, I’m here.”

“Where?” Jae’s figure approached the window that oversaw her driveway, her eyes squinting as she tried to discern your body from the pitch-darkness of the night. “I don’t see you.”

You sniffled into the microphone, switching hands as you climbed out of the Jeep and waved your hands to get Jae’s attention. “To your right.”

Jae’s eyes shifted in your direction, and after searching for a few minutes her eyes shone with recognition. “Oh, I see you!” She waved back at you, the interaction distracting you to the point where you didn’t hear a car pull up next to you until people were clambering out of it, their heavy footfalls approaching you.

You jumped when you felt an arm grab you, gasping and struggling against their grip. “Let me go!”

Jae’s voice came out of your phone, saying your name, but before you could answer her or call out for help, something hard hit you in the back of your head and caused you to fall limp into your kidnapper's arms. But before you fully lost consciousness, you caught a brief glint of red hair from the corner of your eye.

“No.” You whisper, reality finally settling in. “No, no, no.” You try to move your hands, but your eyes find them secured behind your back with handcuffs. You struggle against them, trying to wiggle your hands out but they’re closed tight against your flesh, making the steel rub your skin raw. You hiss in pain but continue trying until your wrists are red. You try to move toward the wall behind you, leaning on it to help you stand up.

Once on your feet, you stomp on the floor, trying to break the heel of your platform heels. You repeat your action a few times on each foot until part of the heel breaks off, leaving you with shoes that are easier to run in. You huff out in exhaustion, but you’re not done yet. Using the wall once again, you attempt to get your arms in front of you by jumping and pulling your arms under you. Thankfully, you’re successful, and let out a breathy laugh of victory.

You slide down the wall, taking a small break when you suddenly hear footsteps coming close to the room you’re trapped in. Your eyes widen in fear as you try to back away further from the door.

“Look who’s awake.” The woman with red hair enters the room, her voice coming out in a sing-song.

“Who are you?” You rasp, sitting up tall. Although you’re terrified out of your mind, you know better than to show it.

“The name’s Seong, sweetheart.” She smirks, one of her lackeys trailing after her. “And you have something I want.” You stare back at her as she gets closer to you, bending down so you’re at eye level. “Not going to ask me what it is?”

You say nothing, instead just keep eye contact with her, never once wavering under her unnerving gaze.

“Ah, we have a strong one here.” Seong laughs heartily. “I can see why Bada keeps you around.”

Mentally, you curse at yourself. Of course you’d been kidnapped as some sort of leverage piece between this woman and Bada. She’s most likely one of the rival gangs that’d been waiting for the chance to pounce at an opening to get through to Bada. And you’d stupidly given her the perfect opportunity.

“Well…” Seong’s voice drops, chills running down your spine as her eyes lower to your figure. “I’m guessing she doesn’t just appreciate your banter, huh?” She reaches out to touch you, her cold hands dragging across your collarbones. “So pretty…”

“Don’t touch me.” You spit, tone dripping with disgust as you recoil away from her.

“So lively too.” Seong chuckles.

“Bada’s going to come get me.” You cut in, glaring at the woman with fiery hair.

“Oh yes, I’m counting on that.” Seong smiles. “You know, she owes me a lot of money.” She stands up and begins to pace around the room. “My father and her father used to work together back in the day. But once Lee died and your little wife took over his business, she cut ties with him. Apparently, selling drugs is too ‘corrupt’ for her.” She scoffs loudly, the sound full of resentment and anger. “My father lost all his connections. He had to start selling to junkies on the streets, and now he’s running out of money.”

She stops in front of you again, a twisted smile stretching across her face.

“Bring him in,” Seong says to the lackey behind her. He follows her orders, trailing out of the room before he returns minutes later, a man shuffling behind him. When the man steps into the low light of the room, you audibly gasp and your eyes widen. “Remember him?” Seong stands next to the man–the same man from the mall. The man that’d harassed you, and had been humiliated by Bada.

Here he stands, the right side of his face swollen and colored in grotesque combinations of yellow and purple bruises.

“You.” The man rasps, his eyes shining with a crazy glint.

“This man right here was beaten half to death by Bada when I found him lying on the street.” Seong pats his shoulder. “Imagine my surprise when he told me how he’d accidentally hit on the Bada Lee’s fiancée, and almost gotten himself killed because of it.” She circles around the man. “Finding you after that didn’t take much. And look at you now…”

“Lying on the floor like some pathetic bitch.” The man spits. “How does it feel?”

“Go to hell.” You snap at him, eyes set in a glare.

“You should be careful how you speak to me.” The man warns you, walking closer before he bends down in front of you. “You’re the one who’s restrained, and at our mercy.”

“And yet despite that, it’ll be your blood that stains this floor when Bada finds me.” You retaliate.

The man’s face screws up in anger, and in a flash, he grabs onto your necklace, using it to tug you forward painfully. “You bitch–”

Your eyes go wide as you watch your necklace–Bada’s mother’s necklace–stretch in his hold. “No–” you choke out, using what little control you have of your hands to slug them against his face, taking his hands off the necklace. But unfortunately, his strength ends up ripping it off your neck, the broken jewelry falling onto the ground. “No!” You cry, scrambling over to the necklace, trying to grab it with your hands.

The man turns to face you, wearing a look of anger you’d never seen before in your life. He raises his fist, about to punch you when a hand stops him from doing so.

“Now, now, let’s not get too caught up in our anger.” Seong pulls the man away from you and pushes him toward the door. “We’ll have our fun once Bada arrives, believe me. You can do the honors of killing her if you really want to.”

Seong follows the man out of the room, her lackey trailing behind her before she stops to give you one final look, and closes the door to your room, leaving you trembling and in almost complete darkness.

In the raven black of the night, Bada, Tatter, Chehe, Hyo, Kyma, Minah, and Soweon stand at the door to Seong’s hideout, guns held tightly in their hands. Bada turns to look at a building across the street, holding a thumbs up in the air. Atop the building is Lusher, her sniper propped up against the ledge of the roof, her scope focused on Bada’s signal. She traces the red dot coming from her sniper around Bada’s thumb, indicating she’s ready.

“Lusher’s in position.” Bada turns back to face Bebe, nodding at them. “Let’s not waste any more time.”

“Yes, Boss.” They all parrot in response.

Bada turns to face the doorknob, pointing her gun at it before shooting. Tatter steps up first, shouldering the door open with intense force, making it swing open and reveal Seong’s hideout. Some lackeys that had been standing around jump at the sudden intrusion, their hands instinctively reaching for their guns. But all of Bebe’s members are twice as fast and skilled. Tatter shoots down one man with her shotgun while the rest of Bebe pile in, backing her up and mulling down the waves of oncoming men like they’re bugs.

Bada steps in last, shooting a man who was running in as backup, then shooting another who almost managed to get a shot in on Minah. She charges forward without fear, cutting through the mess of flying bullets and punching one of Seong’s men in the gut, then shooting him between the eyes. His blood splatters against the side of her suit as she kicks his body away, continuing her advance until she makes it out of the entrance of the hideout, and into a split hallway.

Bada keeps her pistol trained up and ears keen as she hears Lusher’s sniper bullets break through glass windows and hit some of the men still flocking to the entrance. An emergency alarm begins to blare in the hideout, red lights bathing Bada’s figure as she studies both paths ahead of her.

Suddenly to her right, she hears loud footsteps approaching and whips around to face a man running down the hallway. Thinking quickly, she shoots him in the foot before he has the chance to reach for his gun. He falls to the floor, screaming in pain whilst clutching his wounded foot. Bada walks over to him, kicking his gun away then aiming her pistol at his head.

“Where is she?” She yells over the loud, blaring alarm.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” The lackey wails.

“Yes you do. Tell me or I’ll kill you!” Bada places her pistol on the man’s forehead, making his pathetic wailing increase.

“Okay, okay, just please don’t shoot me!” He begs.

Bada grabs the man by his clothes, hoisting him up and pushing him forward, causing him to stumble and almost fall onto the floor again. “Show me the way, now!”

The man cries as he hobbles forward, leading her in your direction.

“Fifty-five, fifty-six, fifty-seven…” your voice mutters amidst the silence, keeping track of the minutes passing by since Seong left. You stare at the steel door separating you from your freedom, hoping with every minute you count, Bada gets closer to finding and rescuing you.

It’s at minute forty-two when bright, red lights flood your room, blinding you and throwing you off your count as loud alarms sound outside. You sit up, your heart beating wildly in your chest.

“Bada…” you sigh in relief. She came for you.

Another five minutes pass before you hear movement coming towards your room, making you scramble towards the door. But when it opens, you’re not greeted by the sight of your fiancée. No, instead, Seong rushes inside, her red hair ruffled and her breaths uneven as she closes the door behind her.

“Fucking–” She mutters, her eyes finding you instantly.

“I told you.” You smirk. “You’re all dead.”

Seong stares back at you silently before charging up to you and slapping you across the face. You shriek and recoil back as she breaks into manic laughter, pulling out a gun from her pocket. “Maybe, but if I die, you’re coming with me, sweetheart.” She clicks the safety off, her finger in position to press against the trigger when three loud bangs come from outside your prison, making you scramble back in shock, and Seong turn to face the door.

A long moment of tense silence follows before the door to your prison slowly creeks open, Seong gulping as the hand holding her gun starts to tremble. Right before the door fully swings open, a shot is fired from the person outside, grazing Seong’s cheek and making her cower away.

She runs over to you, picks you up from the floor and holds onto you by your throat, her gun pressed up against your temple. "Don't get any closer, Bada Lee,” Seong yells, digging her fingers into your throat. “or I’ll kill her!”

Bada side-steps away from the door, revealing one of Seong’s men dead behind her, blood leaking from his foot and his forehead. “Let her go, Seong,” Bada demands. “Your problem is with me, not with her.”

“But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? When you hurt one person, the people you care about suffer!” Seong laughs maniacally. “You had no mercy for my family, so why should I have any for yours?”

“You did all of this because I refused to sell your drugs?” Bada spits, her voice dripping with venom. “You’re pathetic, just like your father.”

Seong’s face reflects sheer anger in response to Bada’s words. She’s about to pull the trigger of her gun when Bada shoots first. She hits Seong in the knee, causing her to collapse and shoot the ceiling instead of you. You scramble away as Bada lunges forward, tackling Seong and knocking the gun out of her hand before she can try to shoot at you again.

Unfortunately, Seong is strong as well and fights back against Bada for her gun, both trading blows with each other until Seong manages to get Bada’s gun from her grasp. She pistol whips Bada in the face, giving her a cut across the nose as Bada falls to the floor, blood falling from her wound.

“Not so tough now, huh, Lee?” Seong screams as she points Bada’s very own gun at her.

“You should know that even if you kill me,” Bada says through heaving breaths, “you’ll still never make it out of this building alive.”

Seong bares her teeth at Bada, pushing her gun closer to her temple. “You’ll still be dead.”

“Don’t!” You scream, emerging from behind Seong, holding her gun. “Put the gun down or I’ll shoot.”

Seong clicks her tongue, laughing condescendingly as she turns to face you. “You don’t have the guts to kill me.”

“But I do.” Bada jabs her fist into Seong’s stomach, knocking the woman off of her and the air out of her lungs. Bada takes her gun back and places it in her pocket as the woman with red hair heaves against the floor, her eyes the size of saucers.

Bada walks over to your trembling figure, her gaze soft as her hands come up to grab yours that are still holding onto Seong’s gun.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” She whispers tenderly into your ear, bringing you against her chest as she quietly soothes your shaky breaths.

“I thought you were–” You begin, the words falling from your mouth through gasps.

“I know, I know.” She shushes you. “Everything’s all right now. Give me the gun, honey.” You let go of Seong’s gun, allowing Bada to take it into her hands as she faces the red-haired woman who’s writhing on the floor. “You should have known better than to touch the people I care about, Seong.” Bada’s voice is cold, and more charged with rage than you’ve ever heard her carry before. “You’ll always be your father’s waste of a daughter.”

Through Seong’s choking breaths, you hear a sob wrack her voice, tears falling from her eyes and running down the sides of her face.

Before Bada pulls the trigger, her unoccupied hand comes down to shield your eyes. “Don’t look,” She whispers softly, “and cover your ears.” With tears streaming down your face, you plug your ears and shut your eyes, a deafening shot following soon after. A few minutes pass before you feel Bada move you around, hugging you close to her chest as she breathes a sigh of relief. “It’s over.”

It’s like the floodgates open at the sound of Bada’s soothing voice because you start to sob violently into her chest, wishing you could cling onto her, but you can’t your hands still restrained by handcuffs. “Bada.” You cry, burying your face into her warm body heat.

“I know, I’m so sorry.” She whispers. “I came as fast as I could.”

“I thought she was going to shoot you.” You sob. “I was so scared–”

“Shh, it’s all right honey, I promise. I’m okay.” She pats the back of your head before pulling away to gaze into your eyes. They’re wide and filled with tears, but so infinitely beautiful to her. Bada wipes your tears away with her thumb, smiling softly at you. She takes a step back, taking off her suit jacket before placing it onto your shoulders and rubbing up and down your arms. “Let’s go home, okay?”

Bada’s room is warm, the atmosphere a far cry from the prison you’d been held in. You sit on Bada’s fluffy bed, staring into the distance with a faraway expression while waiting for her to return.

Thankfully she does as soon as the thought crosses your mind. She makes her presence known by knocking gently on the wood of her bedroom door. “Can I come in?”

“Yes.” You croak.

Bada enters the room with a mug of piping tea in one hand, and uses her unoccupied one to close the door behind her. She sits next to you on the bed, handing you the mug while muttering a soft warning about how hot it is.

“Thank you.” You say quietly, taking the drink and blowing on it.

Bada places her big hand on your thigh, rubbing it gently as she looks into your downcast eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Better now that you’re here.” You admit, staring at the ripples in the tea caused by your breath.

“I’m glad.” Bada’s eyes move from yours to your hands, noticing how red and raw your wrists are. She removes her hand from your thigh, gently touching your wrist so she can turn it over to get a better look at it. “Should I get you some pain medicine?”

“No.” You answer quickly, your eyes shooting up from your tea and meeting hers. “Stay with me, please.”

Bada nods silently, rubbing the skin just above your wrist. “I’m sorry.” She whispers grimly. “You got hurt because of me.”

You stare at Bada with an incredulous look, shaking your head rapidly. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t lied to you and went to that party, Seong would have never been able to get to me–”

“You went to that party because you missed your friends,” Bada argues back lightly. “I deprived you of a social life in my obsession with keeping you safe, and look at where it got us.”

“Bada Lee, this is not your fault.” You say firmly. “You saved my life.”

Bada looks like she wants to argue more, but holds herself back. The silence between you two allows your still-racing mind to catch up, and you suddenly sit up, eyes wide and full of sorrow.

"What is it?" Bada questions, noticing your expression.

"Bada..." you trail off, turning to the side to grab something you'd hidden. Facing her again, her mother's broken necklace is in the palm of you hand. "I'm so sorry. I tried to keep it safe..."

Bada takes the necklace out of your hand and holds it up in front of you both. "I don't care."

"What?" You breathe incredulously. "But Bada, it was your mother's–"

"And it can be fixed." She says softly. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Your look of shock melts into a sappy smile. “Me too.” You agree, placing your mug-free hand on top of Bada’s. She moves her hand around, weaving your fingers together tenderly as her thumb swipes across the skin of your hand.

“Did Seong hurt you anywhere else?” Bada asks, scanning your face for injuries.

You turn your face to your right, showing her your left cheek, which is now slightly bruised. “She slapped me.”

Bada’s eyes take in your injured cheek, a storm of emotions flashing in her irises for nothing more than a split second before she masks it with a caring expression. She brings up your arm so that it’s in front of her, places her lips on your hurt wrist, then she brings it back down and brushes her other hand across your left cheek. She leans in, pressing a soft kiss to each of the growing bruises.

When she’s done she leans back, nothing but pure care in her eyes as she gazes at you.

“Can I ask you something?” You mumble, butterflies dancing in the pit of your stomach.

“You can ask me anything, honey,” Bada whispers, tracing shapes onto your hands.

“You always kiss my injuries.” You point out, careful to keep your voice sweet so she knows you like her display of affection. “Is there a reason why?”

Bada’s eyes leave yours for a brief moment, finding something above your head and gazing there before her eyes move back to you. “My mother, she used to…” she trails off, “she used to do that when I was younger. It always made me feel better.”

You smile softly at Bada, warmth flooding your veins. “That’s beautiful.”

She smiles back at you, muttering a soft thank you. You both allow a comfortable silence to fill the room until an idea pops into your head.

You quickly place your mug of tea on Bada’s beside table, then turn to face her. She gives you a confused expression when you take both of her hands and lift them up. Bada’s long fingers curl against yours, displaying her bloody and bruised knuckles. You lean down, placing a soft kiss next to each of them, unable to see how Bada’s eyes widen at your actions until you pull away.

When you look back at her, she’s looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. You smile at her, then lean up, placing one final kiss on her nose, right below the cut Seong made.

Pulling away for the final time, Bada brings you closer to her, missing your warmth as she touches her forehead to yours and closes her eyes.

“Please never leave me again.”

❝ should my hands be stained with blood, let them be so, solely for you. ❞

#bada lee x reader #bada x reader #bada lee #bada #street woman fighter 2 x reader #swf2 x reader

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navybrat817 · 2 months

Text

Hold You Tight: Part 6

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 5 | Series Masterlist | Part 7

Chapter Summary: You're determined to have a quiet rest of the day without seeing or thinking about Bucky.

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.5k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, stalking, inner conflict, insecurities, manipulation, possessiveness, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies continue to enjoy. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You sat in the tub, the cascading water from the shower head flowing over you as you stared at the opposite wall. Normally you welcomed the heat and billowing steam, but you shivered the longer you stayed there. The sound of the water droplets couldn't drown out Bucky’s moans or words from your mind.

“I’m so hard for you. And you’re wet for me, aren’t you? Fuck, I wish I was there to take care of you.”

“You’ll take it. You’ll take me. Like a good girl.”

“Wish I was there to help clean you up and get you dirty all over again.”

With a groan, you leaned your head against the wall. The man jerked off to the thought of you. No one ever desired you like that, at least not that you knew of. More than that he wanted you in his home. By his side. Why? You couldn't grasp why he wanted you so badly.

You also couldn't deny that his words got to you, if your wet your underwear was anything to judge by when you peeled them off. Were you so desperate for a semblance of affection that a few dirty words from a terrifying man turned you on? What did that say about you?

Just like the last couple of days, that was too much to unpack.

“I’m not special,” you whispered.

You could practically see Bucky across from you with sadness in his eyes, the way he looked at you when you argued last night that you weren't special. He didn't believe that for a second. Quite the opposite. He saw something in you that others didn't. Wasn't that what you wanted deep down? To be seen? Cherished?

Not like this.

“Get up,” you muttered, carefully getting to your feet. You weren't going to sit there and feel sorry for yourself. Things could always be worse. All things considered, Bucky hadn't hurt you. Hadn't lied to you either, as far as you knew. Which made your heart ache at that thought of leaving your place behind.

If Bucky kept his promise and forced you to move in, what would you tell your friends? Would they think you were crazy for moving so fast or would they not question it at all because Bucky was rich, handsome, and they would assume he made you happy? You’d say what you had to if it meant keeping them safe, but feared it could possibly put up a wall between you and the group since you couldn't tell them the full truth. Maybe his intention was to drive you away from them and bring you closer to him.

Your head began to ache from the overanalyzing. “I’m not going to think about Bucky Barnes.” Shutting the water off, you pushed the questions and scenarios as far from your mind as possible as you went about the rest of your morning. The rest of the day would be routine, normal, nothing out of the ordinary.

Naturally, Bucky messaged you once you finished getting dressed to prove you wrong. “Thinking of you. Are you thinking of me?”

You swallowed dryly as you typed back to him. It was like he knew you were trying to forget about everything. “I think you want me to think about you.”

It didn't take him long to respond. “Of course, I do. I hope you’re thinking about our chat from earlier and when we can finish it.” The man didn't want to just get in your head. He wanted to get under your skin. “Is it too much to ask for a photo? You have such a beautiful smile.”

You scoffed both from the audacity and boldness. It wasn't enough that he pleasured himself while talking to you, he wanted a photo of you, too? He specifically noted your smile. Was it really beautiful? “Just because you sent me photos of you in your jackets doesn't mean I have to send photos back.”

“Pretty please?”

It was almost cute. “Not today. Sorry, Bucky.”

“That’s okay. Was worth a shot. Maybe I can convince you to let me take a photo when I see you tonight.”

You froze. There it was. Not “if” he’d see you tonight, but “when”. There was no stopping him, was there? Maybe it was that thought that possessed you to goad him because you couldn't otherwise explain why you sent what you did. “You won’t see me because I have plans. But tell you what. If by any chance you do see me tonight, I’ll let you take a photo.”

You blinked and reread your message. Why did you do that? Sending that was as stupid as it was impulsive and would only encourage him.

“Is that a challenge or a promise?”

Your stomach twisted in knots, but you sent one last reply. “It’s whatever you want it to be.”

Bucky was so convinced he’d see you and there was a good chance he would, but you’d make him work for it a little. You wouldn't stick around your apartment. That would probably be the first place he’d look for you.

Catch me if you can.

Your shift went as normal as could be. Steady enough to keep you busy, but not feel overwhelmed. No difficult customers. No surprise visits from Bucky either, though you kept waiting for him to walk through the door.

There was no relief though once you clocked out since you had no idea where you'd hide out for the rest of the day. Everyone you reached out to was busy. Addison, of course, was going out to dinner with Brady and you didn't bother messaging her. Dana had a double date with another of your friends. The rest all had romantic evenings planned, too. They apologized like always.

Was it bad that you were kind of used to it?

A message from Bucky appeared the second you stepped out of the shop. “Any chance you’ll give me a clue where you’ll be?”

You sighed, a sense of weariness seeping in that you couldn't blame on work. “Not a chance.”

“Should I go find you now? I’m a little bored.”

Your gaze darted from left to right. Was he already nearby somewhere watching? “If you're bored, read a book.”

A smile crossed your face when you suddenly thought about where to go. You told yourself earlier you didn't want to think about Bucky for the rest of the day. What better way than to distract yourself with a book? And what better place than your favorite bookstore, Turn the Page?

Before you tucked your phone away, you turned the GPS off just in case Bucky had a way to get access to it. You wouldn't put it past him to try. You wouldn't take your normal route either. It was crazy to think things like a routine could be a bad thing, but Bucky made you question everything.

Walking through the city, you occasionally glanced back over your shoulder to make sure no one was following you. No one looked your way, too occupied with their own agendas as they shuffled around you. Something still felt off, goosebumps forming on your arms and your heart sinking as you felt a pair of steel eyes on you.

You didn't realize you stopped walking until someone nearly collided with you. “I’m so sorry,” you said, giving you the push you needed to move again. Quickening your pace, you reminded yourself it was still light out. People were around. Even if Bucky was following you, what would he do?

You moved forward and didn't look back until you found yourself at the bookstore, taking a calming breath before you walked in. Turn the Page had a cozy and peaceful atmosphere with a range from classic to modern stories. You could spend hours there and feel perfectly at home.

“Hey, Marc,” you smiled at the man behind the counter.

“Hey. Good to see you,” Marc smiled back. He took over the bookstore over a year ago. Friendly for the most part and took pride in the shop. “Anything I can help you find? Just finished setting up some new releases.”

“No thanks,” you replied, selecting a thick romance novel that would pass the time. “I was just going to hang around and read for a bit if you don't mind.”

“Not at all. Can I get you anything to drink or eat? Coffee? Baked good?” He offered, nodding to the tiny cafe area in the corner.

“Just water for now, please,” you said. You probably needed to eat, but you’d wait for your nerves to fully settle. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what’s up?” He asked, going to grab you your drink as you followed.

“Have you heard of The 107th?” You asked. You weren't sure what possessed you to do so. Maybe it was because he seemed like a neutral person to talk to.

“The nightclub?” Mark eyed you curiously. “That doesn't seem like your scene.”

“I’ve only been once. A friend's bachelorette party over a month ago,” you explained, assuming he meant it wasn't your type of scene since you weren't a party girl. “But I may have met the owner recently.”

Marc kept a neutral expression, but noticeably paused before he handed the glass over. “You met Bucky Barnes?”

“Yeah,” you answered, shifting on your feet. “Do you know him?”

He busied himself by cleaning the counter. “Yeah, I know him,” he said, your chest tight. How? “Well, I wouldn't say I know him well. I’ve only met him a couple of times. A lot of the local owners have since he has a hand in quite a few endeavors. Donates to the local hospital and charities, too.”

“That’s nice,” you croaked, taking a sip. If he had a hand in local businesses, was it possible that he met your boss? “He seemed very driven when I spoke to him.”

“That he is,” he agreed, tossing the rag away. “Also dangerous,” he added under his breath.

“Dangerous?” You repeated. The man threatened your loved ones, but why would Marc call him that?

He paused to look at you, his eyes wider than before. “Yeah, but you’re too sweet to get mixed up in any of that, so forget I said anything. Please,” he urged. You wished you could. “He hasn't been poking around your shop, has he?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” you said. You hoped not.

“Sorry, I just assumed since you said you met him. Wouldn't surprise me if he stops in soon though with the anniversary coming up and all.”

“Anniversary of what?” You asked.

“His family. They…” He trailed off when the phone rang at the counter. “Sorry. I need to get back to work.”

“That’s okay. I’ll just start my book,” you said, going to take a seat on the other side of the shop. You took your usual spot on the couch and wished you hadn't said anything. Marc knew Bucky enough to say he was dangerous. And why would he eventually poke around your shop? Anniversary… Flowers…

“I wish you could've met my mom. She would've loved you.”

“She’s gone and that’s a topic for another day.”

You settled further into the couch with a huff. Bucky’s family and endeavors were none of your business. You weren't going to question it any further. You were going to sit and enjoy your book.

That was exactly what you did.

A few customers went in and out of the shop as you lost yourself in the story. It was easy to imagine snuggling with the hero as he whispered how much he loved you and always would. The sweet sort of romance that brought a smile to your face and allowed you to relax against the cushions. You were surprised you didn't fall asleep.

What time was it anyway?

“How’s the book?”

A shiver rolled over you as you peered up from the page and saw Bucky standing in front of you. He wore the blue jacket and his eyes stood out just as you said they would. Where you expected to see triumph in his gaze, there was only curiosity and awe. Like he happened to bump into you by accident instead of intentionally.

“What are you doing here?” You whisper shouted, not wanting to draw attention. While it wasn't a complete shock that he managed to find you, it was a miracle your heart hadn't given out from how fast it pounded over the last couple of days. “How did you find me?”

Did he actually follow you?

He smiled a little. “You’re the one who told me to read a book since I was bored,” he said, taking a seat beside you and slipping his arm around you. You tensed as he pulled you close, but he merely rubbed your arm with his gloved hand until you relaxed. “And finding you was just a process of elimination. I know you didn't go back to your place after you left this morning and there aren't too many places you like to venture by yourself in the city.”

“And just how do you know I didn't go back to my apartment?” You asked.

“I may or may not have an eye on the building,” he said casually. It could've been a joke or serious answer, neither of which were a laughing matter. “Or maybe you knew that would be the first place I’d try to look for you, so you decided to avoid it.”

You bit your tongue. That was exactly what you did. “Or maybe I wouldn't be there since I was supposed to go out.”

He nodded. “You were supposed to go out, but your plans fell through, didn't they?” He asked sympathetically. You didn't want his pity. “If I had to guess, they fell through even before we talked this morning.”

“My original plans fell through, yes,” you confirmed.

He hummed. “Were you embarrassed to tell me?”

You wrung your fingers together. There was no reason for you to feel bad for not telling him. You didn't owe him anything because he wasn't your boyfriend. “No,” you whispered.

“Did it just slip your mind when we talked?” He teased. At least he didn't sound upset or disappointed. Why wasn't he upset? Was he testing you?

“No. I just wanted a night off from being…” you trailed off, not sure how he would react in public to something he didn't want to hear. And what was it a night off from exactly? Being his new girlfriend?

He scratched along his chin, drawing attention to the gray hairs. “You know what I think?” He asked.

“I have no idea,” you replied.

“I think you were testing me because you wanted me to find you. You want me more than you want to admit,” he said. Your mouth fell open, but you couldn't speak. “Otherwise, why push me to look for you? Why hang out in one of your favorite shops knowing I could easily track you down?”

“I didn't…” You took a breath. You didn't want him to chase after you. That wasn't it. “I didn't push.”

“Moyo Kotyonok, you dared me with that message and you know it,” he smirked.

Biting your lip, you didn't deny it any further since he was partially right. You egged him on by offering to let him take a photo if he found you, which wasn't smart. If you had real plans, you wouldn't have done that. But you didn't do it because you wanted him to find you or wanted him in general.

You didn't.

“But we can talk about that later,” he said, gentler than you expected. “I’m sorry about your plans. What happened?”

You finally closed the book in your lap and exhaled. “Addison and I were supposed to hang out, but she’s going out to dinner with her fiancé instead,” you explained.

He narrowed his eyes. “So, she ditched you,” he said, disappointment finally seeping into voice.

You shook your head. “No, she didn't ditch me. We rescheduled,” you argued, quick to defend her. She didn't maliciously blow you off. “Things come up. It happens.”

Bucky smiled softly. “You stuck up for her immediately. I admire that,” he said, shifting to face you more. He practically crowded you. “Why not hang out with another friend?”

You looked at your lap. What was he playing at? “Because my friends are busy,” you whispered. It hurt to say it and it shouldn't. It was just a downside of being the single one in a group of friends who had significant others. No one was obligated to keep their schedules open in case you wanted to hang out.

He tilted your head up. Why wouldn't he just let you hide? “Just so you know, I will never be too busy for you,” he whispered. It wasn't fair that he looked at you like you mattered. “You’re my top priority.”

You ignored the warm sensation that spread from your heart. So many people made you an option. “I shouldn't be,” you whispered.

“But you are and that isn't going to change,” he said, steadfast as always. “And since this shop is going to close soon, why not go to the club with me? It'll be fun.”

You gestured to your comfortable outfit. “I’m not dressed for your club. Besides, I was going to call it an early night after I left.”

His eyes roamed your body with interest before he shrugged and took the book from your lap. “I have that dress waiting for you, but you can wear whatever you want since you look beautiful in anything.”

“Are you listening to what I'm saying? I said I want to call it an early night.” You moved to stand, your limbs tired from sitting. “For someone who claims to care, you don't take my feelings into consideration.”

He reached to grab your hand and took it before you could walk away. “I care more than anyone else,” he whispered vehemently before he took a breath, his eyes burning with passion as he stood up, too. “I’m not ignoring your feelings. It’s a compromise. We won't stay long, so come with me.”

“Thank you for the offer,” you began, trying to put out the fire in his eyes. “But why would I want to go to your club when all I want to do is read and relax?”

“Do I need to remind you that some of my friends will be there and they still want to meet you?” He asked, gently guiding you toward the front of the store. “And I can take your right back to your place after so you can rest. You'll still have an early night.”

He considered that a compromise? “But I-”

“You’ll be in bed before 10. You have my word.” He walked you toward the exit, past the remaining customers, and gave the associate behind the counter a smile before you could protest. “And don't worry about the book. I paid for it.”

“Wait, where’s Marc?” You asked. You hadn't spoken to him since your earlier conversation.

The associate looked at Bucky before she smiled. “I think he went out back for a quick break.”

“Before closing?” You asked.

“Let’s go,” Bucky said, heading out the door with you.

He helped you into the car by the curb as you were still catching up to what was happening. He effortlessly coaxed you out of a store with people around and into a car, alone. The man had no fear.

“Where's Ray?” You asked since the partition was up. “Shocked you didn't send him in to get me.”

“He actually offered, but I wanted to go in myself,” Bucky replied, chuckling at your expression. “And don't worry. He's close by.”

You huffed and stared at the garment bag where your dress waited when he put an arm back around you. “I just wanted some peace and quiet tonight.” But he got you right where he wanted you.

“Like I said, you'll meet my friends and you’ll be in bed by 10.” Bucky dragged his nose along your throat and inhaled your scent. Your eyes closed, but your body didn't freeze up the way you expected it to. “We’ll both get what we want.”

What you wanted didn't matter. “Bucky?”

“Yeah, doll?”

You closed your eyes. “Just how dangerous are you?”

“I’m the most dangerous man in the city, but you're safe with me,” he replied against your skin.

“And what if your friends don't like me?” You asked.

“You have nothing to worry about. They’ll love you,” he promised, bringing his head up to kiss your temple. “But no one will ever love you more than I do.”

Love.

You shuddered. You weren't sure what you feared more. That his friends would love you enough to help keep you by his side or how much Bucky claimed to love you. Because there was nothing more dangerous than a powerful man in love.

Which friend do we think is the most excited to see you with Bucky? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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paradiseprincesss · 4 months

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OMG OMG OMG. now i KNOW you aren’t taking requests. but im helping you out with your cillian story. reader is having an affair with cillian, they meet either on set or at an awards show and she’s whipped for him. but he just won’t leave his toxic wife. all to the song fantasize by ariana 🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️

fantasize - cillian murphy x reader

masterlist

notes: thank you to my pookie @ilovetoxicfictionalmen for helping me with the idea of this entire thing she served and she did not come to play i love her - okay so this is my first actual cillian fic and lowkey i was nervous to post it but slay? this is lowkey based off the ariana grande scandal lol and also completely based off fantasize by ariana grande (unreleased). also sorry if theres any mistakes i edited it but i got lazy like halfway through lmaoo

summary: cillian falls for a young, talented singer who finds out he's married, and she gives him an ultimatum; either get a divorce and then she'll give him a chance, or don't ever talk to her again because she's not that kind of girl. after nearly a year of not speaking, news breaks that he's divorced his wife - and suddenly, he shows up to her home in los angeles begging for her love because he can't seem to forget about her.

word count: 9.1k

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, cheating/affair, divorce, age gap (unspecified but reader is early 20's and cillian is 47), fingering, p in v, general smut obviously, pining (a tad bit), pathetic desperate cillian, cillian doesn't have kids in this au

"over here!"

"one more, just look here for a second, gorgeous!"

"are you going to be performing tonight?"

"when is the album dropping?"

the cameras flashed in your pretty face, and the reporters and paparazzi continued to yell out questions and take pictures of you as you walked down the carpet in a rush to get inside.

tonight was the oscars - it was a pretty big deal in hollywood, and as an a-list singer, you were invited to attend of course. yes, you were fresh onto the scene, so young you had barely finished high school by the time your name was being plastered in the tabloids, but now a few years later, you were a household name. your voice captured the hearts of many, and you were ever so grateful for your adoring fans.

after the release of your debut album, your fame skyrocketed. barely entering into your twenties, you already had multiple musical awards ranging from ama's to grammy's. there wasn't a person alive who didn't know your name. not only were you a talented singer who's voice hit octaves that could shatter glass, but you were a beauty icon.

with your iconic sense of style and that gorgeous face of yours, you weren't hard to miss. everything down to the last detail about you had many swooning, including some of the biggest names in hollywood. tonight, you wore a stunning, black, sultry gown custom made by vera wang herself, and matching black pumps that were from valentino. your stylist absolutely delivered on your hair and makeup so tonight - all eyes were on you.

you were rumoured to be performing at the oscars this year. the rumours had started to circulate a few weeks prior with fans getting all amped up about a possible performance from you. however, tonight you were just there to attend and look stunning on the carpet, as well as maybe catch up with some of your fellow celebrity friends. you weren't the type to step out onto every red carpet, so when you did, you made headlines.

as you stepped away from the flashing lights and the buzzing reporters, you finally made your way into the venue where the oscars were being held. this year, they had set things up a little differently than they usually did. most of the time, it was like a theatre of some kind. rows and rows of seating like you would see in the movie theatres, but this year, they switched it up. instead of the normal seating arrangements, they had cloth covered round tables with name plates.

your team got you seated at a table quite close to the front; the venue was already pretty much fully packed once you got inside, actors and singers alike were all mingling with each other. tonight, you were seated at a table with a few other young singers and talented individuals - billie eilish and olivia rodrigo being two of them.

"you look amazing." billie said to you as soon as she noticed you, and olivia looked up from her phone with a smile. "you totally do, i love this dress on you!" olivia agreed sweetly.

"oh my gosh, look at you two, though!" you say, excitedly catching up with two of your closest friends in the business. the three of you continued chatting for a while amongst yourselves, and billie pointed to the table diagonally across from yours.

"dude, cillian murphy is sitting over there - holy shit." she laughs, and you and olivia peek over at the table billie gestured to.

there at a table sat the cast of oppenheimer, and even for someone as famous as yourself - you were starstruck at the sight of him. he was undeniably gorgeous...and definitely way too old for you. you were aware that cillian was a very private guy, never really stepping out into the public eye other than to act or do a quick interview every now and then, but seeing him in person had your head spinning. he was even better looking in person than any photos that you'd ever seen of him.

as you, billie, and olivia stared at the seasoned actors and actresses seated across from you, cillian glanced over - and all three of you looked away, feeling like silly, teenage school girls. "shit," you giggle, "that's embarrassing."

"awkward." billie laughed, and olivia laughed along with the two of you. the topic of conversation switched quickly, and the three of you continued to talk about everything under the sun. eventually, the lights started to dim and the room started to go quiet as the host stepped out on stage. you'd never been to the oscars before, only other award shows, so you were watching in awe as this was your first year attending.

throughout the award show, you stole little glances at cillian; he was mesmerizing, and his blue eyes were truly breathtaking. halfway through the award show, cillians name was announced and he accepted an oscar for his performance in oppenheimer. you applauded along with the rest of the crowd, and he did his little acceptance speech before joining the rest of the cast back at his table.

while he stood up there, you couldn't help but notice how perfect he was - not a flaw existed on this man. as you watched him with hearts in your eyes, you almost felt your heart leap out of your throat as the two of you made eye contact for just a second. however, he quickly returned his gaze to something else, almost looking flustered to have looked your way.

afterwards, cillian and the rest of the cast all did a little cheers to his award. they put their champagne glasses down and continued to watch the host on stage. whilst many talented actors and actresses went up to claim their oscars, your eyes were focused on something else - rather, someone else.

you couldn't help but keep looking over at the older man across from you; nobody in hollywood had truly captured your attention the way he did. love at first sight, perhaps. sure, your sweet personality and jaw-dropping beauty had many a-list men and women swooning, but you never felt inclined to date someone in the same industry as you - they usually had a reputation. there was always something wrong with them, whether they were substance addicts or a serial cheater; you didn't want to stick around and find out.

your heart rate spiked when those stunningly blue eyes you'd been staring at all evening suddenly locked with yours once more, and you looked away hastily, out of both sheer embarrassment and awkwardness from being caught staring. you immediately started to pay attention to the award show, not daring to glance back over at his table. after the host wrapped up the show, everyone got ready to head to the oscars afterparty.

you made your way to the venue with billie and olivia, along with some other young women your own age, and headed straight to the bar. you ordered a cosmopolitan, then another, and then one more. after socializing and drinking, you went to one of the many tables scattered across the room. sitting down, you sigh and sip on your third cosmo of the night.

"excuse me," an smooth, irish accent came from beside you, "d'you mind if i join you?"

looking up in awe, you see none other than cillian murphy himself - looking handsome as ever in his suit - standing with a glass of whiskey in his hands. you felt at a loss for words, but nodded and swallowed. "not at all." you say, gesturing for him to sit.

"i'm sorry," he laughs softly, "i had to come over and say hi. i'm actually a bit of a fan. i watched your performance at the grammy's a few months ago - you're incredibly talented. you have a beautiful voice."

as he tells you this, you felt your jaw drop. cillian murphy, the man himself, thought you were talented? you look at him with an adoring smile, and nod as you took everything that he said in. if you were being honest; you didn't think he even knew who you were.

"that means, like, so much coming from you. i saw oppenheimer and your portrayal of him was amazing. everything you do is...amazing." you gush, and he smiles bashfully. honestly - you found it quite endearing that he was even approaching you and talking to you like this; wasn't he well known for being so reserved and frankly, a little shy or even awkward?

"ah, i appreciate that." he smiles softly, "it's admirable how successful you are - especially for someone so young."

you bit your lip as he mentioned your youthfulness, feeling both mentally and physically weak in the presence of this man. you felt your head spinning; was this really happening right now?

you shrug, trying to play it off as cool as possible. "i appreciate that, truly." you say softly, looking at him with the same starstruck expression as before.

he was quiet for a good minute, taking in your every detail. you noticed his eyes lingered to the dip in your dresses neckline, before speaking again in his gorgeous irish accent.

"m'sorry, you must get this all the time, but you're absolutely stunning." he says casually.

you thought you'd misheard him at first when he said those words. this was cillian murphy of all people - and he was casually throwing out compliments to you. not to mention he was more than twice your age; it was almost morally wrong. almost, but it seemed that neither of you seemed to care about that. not that you really should, anyway.

"t-thank you! i think that, um, you're..." you stammer out, but trail off. you were three drinks in, a little past tipsy, and so utterly starstruck by him that you couldn't muster up the courage to tell him how attractive you found him.

he seemed to understand your nervousness, and gently, he placed one of his hands on your upper thigh with a soft laugh. "nerves?" he asks sympathetically, and you nod your head, laughing along with him. "it's your first time at the oscars, right?"

"yeah," you confess with a smile, "sometimes, i feel like i'm still not used to the whole 'celebrity' thing."

"understandable, you're s'young. it only makes sense." he tells you, once again reminding you of how young you were in comparison to him, whilst his hand was literally resting on your thigh. "if you want, we could go back to my hotel room to chat. you know, to ease your nerves if crowded rooms aren't your thing."

you almost had to stop yourself from fangirling out loud, and with a small nod and a soft smile, you take him up on his offer. "y-yeah, okay. sure."

you were almost certain that he wasn't taking you back to his hotel room for the sake of rescuing you from your social anxiety, but you let it slide. i mean, he's cillian murphy - you'd let just about anything he did slide.

he softly took your hand in his, walking you out to the exit with him, and a few people glanced over in surprise. you tried to pay them no mind, but you knew how it must've looked to others. cillian and you got into his car with his driver, and the both of you headed back to his hotel. once the two of you got to his room, he closed the door behind him and threw his suit jacket over the back of the couch.

you stood there a little awkwardly, mostly because you were so nervous, but also because you'd never been this close with a man so much older than you before. cillian made his way over to you, and softly put his hand on your waist, his thumb trailing little circles over the fabric of your dress.

"is this okay?" he asked softly, and you nodded.

"mhm." you answer, looking up into those striking blue eyes of his.

his other hand trails up your spine, and then to the back of your neck, running his hands through your hair gently. softly, he pulled you closer, closing the gap between the two of you. you were in shock; but you kissed back. it was electrifying. here you were, standing in cillian murphy's hotel room, kissing him. you thought that surely you were dreaming.

the two of you continued to share a few more kisses which then turned into making out, and suddenly you were laying back on his bed with him on top of you. he continued to kiss you deeply, hands roaming all over your body until something seemingly got stuck in a loose thread on your dress. as you both pulled away hesitantly, you noticed something on his hand gotten stuck on that loose thread - a ring.

and no, it wasn't just some regular old ring, and surely not one just to accessorize. the gold band shone on his ring finger, and you saw it for what it was - a wedding ring. you looked down at the ring, and then back at him. how could you have not seen it before?

it seemed in this moment, he knew he'd fucked up as he cleared his throat and started to stumble over his words.

"i-it's not-" he tried to explain, "i'm leaving her."

you looked at him in shock, and in the heat of the moment, you pushed him off of you with a scoff. "you're married?" you ask angrily, "are you fucking kidding me?"

"yes, but-" he tried to interject, but you weren't having it.

"that's disgusting," you spat, "have some respect, jesus christ."

you were already getting up from the bed, grabbing your purse from the kitchen counter as your designer heels clicked against the wooden floors. everything went south so quickly; from when you met to how you ended up in his bed, making out - it was all just one big blurry mess to you now. you didn't know he was married, and if you did, you never would have accepted his offer to come back to his hotel room - let alone let him put his hand on your thigh.

"wait, please-" he begged, following you as you collected your things, "i can explain."

"really?" you asked sarcastically, "you can explain how you're married, yet you decided to take a woman less than half your age to your hotel room?"

"yes," he exasperated, "i'm leaving her, i swear. we're getting a divorce."

you scoffed, this wasn't the first time you'd heard this excuse. hollywood men were sleazy. this was a known fact, and you'd lost count of the amount of men who had slid into your dms telling you that they were getting a divorce or leaving their woman for you. it's not like you ever replied or cared to give in, but still - you knew what they were like.

cillian knew what he was saying was wrong on so many levels - but he couldn't stop himself when it came to you. within seconds of seeing you, you drove him wild. you were a type of beauty he'd never seen before, someone you just feel instantly drawn to.

"well," you say, after a riviting moment of silence, "we'll see about that." you turned to grab the door handle with your purse thrown over your shoulder.

cillian suddenly reached out to grab your arm out of instinct, not willing nor ready to let you go just yet. "please," he sighed, "please - just give me a chance." he said, feeling extremely pathetic for begging like this.

you stayed silent and shot him a stern look, and he took this as his opportunity to continue whatever tangent he was already on. "i'm trying to divorce her as quick as i can but it's just so complicated" he explained, "you're just so gorgeous, fuck, and you're- you're everything i want- no, need."

you stayed quiet for another few seconds, once again trying to process what was coming out of this mans mouth.

"listen," you sigh, "i don't mess with married men, i'm not that kind of girl - but if you actually go through with that divorce - if you're genuinely serious about that, then maybe we can talk."

and with that, you pushed his arm off of you, stepping out of his hotel room and slamming the door behind you. as much as you wanted him to be yours - you knew it was wrong. you were meant to be on your own, not with a man who was married to another woman. what kind of woman would that make you if you were to let something happen between the two of you? you could never do anything like that. i mean, you would but, you were just too nice - and too hot.

you found his driver outside of the hotel, and you told him to drive you back to your hotel. that night, you took a steamy shower to try and clear your mind - but you couldn't shake the thought of him. usually, you paid no mind to any men, married or not, but if you were being honest; you couldn't stop fantasizing about cillian.

you couldn't help but think of him in all the wrong ways while you were laying in bed. you didn't even know why. that night, you had trouble falling asleep, your mind was far too occupied by fantasies of what it would be like to be his. this was only the beginning of such fantasies that would play out in your head for many months to come, but you didn't stop yourself from imagining them.

you'd fantasize about him all the time. if he was yours, you'd give him every part of you, nine to five and five to nine. your life hadn't been the same since you met him. sure, you hated it at first but soon, those little fantasies started to fuel you. you knew he was crazy about you, too. he'd even create little burner accounts to stalk your social media to see what you were doing - but you never wanted to give off the impression that you felt the same. at least, not yet you didn't.

it had been a hectic last few months with all the award shoes and red carpets that came after the oscars, but now you had some downtime. award season was over, and that meant you had more free time to stay out of the public eye and work on your second album, which you were excited to share. however, there was another small reason why you chose to stay out of the public eye.

photos of you and cillian, hands intertwined, had leaked to the media. apparently, the two of you in your inebriated states didn't notice some fans lingering around the area hoping to catch a glimpse of some celebrities. those people snapped some photos of the two of you, and then sold them to multiple media outlets.

the backlash was what you expected - sort of. the media had painted you to be the innocent one in this scandal, and rather cillian the one in the wrong. to be fair, that's what the truth was anyways, but you were glad that in this day and age, you had the internet backing you up and not ripping you to shreds. there were multiple articles talking about how "cillian murphy, 47, tried to take advantage" of you and how he was straying from his wife for "someone who was more than two decades younger."

you were pretty silent on social media for a while, and you only got around to updating and posting like you normally did just last week. the comments scared you as you weren't sure what people would have to say, but everyone was surprisingly supportive of you. there were minimal to no comments about the whole cillian murphy scandal, and things seemed to have died down just as quickly as they started.

now, a few months later after those pictures head leaked - cillian was still with his wife who he claimed he was "divorcing." you knew that it was most likely a front, but deep down; a part of you wished he had gone through with it, and even worse - you wished you had gone through with throwing caution to the wind and having your way with him that night. as wrong as it was, you felt your heart aching at the thought of him. sure, you were young and you didn't really know what love was, but you were pretty certain that this. was. it.

you wanted to know so badly why he was still with her, he was clearly not happy and had wandering eyes, so why was he still staying? it was a puzzle to you, and you felt yourself overthinking the simple question constantly, often letting it consume your daily thoughts. cillian wished he could tell you why, but he knew it would sound shallow. if he was being honest - he didn't love his wife. maybe at first when they got married when he was your age he did, but definitely not anymore.

their love had grown stale, and it's not like he really had a reason to stay faithful anymore besides his morals, but those morals didn't do him any good whenever he thought of you or better yet, saw pictures of you. him and his wife didn't share any kids together thankfully, and he often found himself zoning out every time they spent time with one another; his thoughts going to you instead. his wife had indeed seen the pictures of the two of you, but she was determined to let it go. apparently, the two of them were going to marriage counselling for it.

you scoffed at the idea when you read an article about it because you thought it was ridiculous. there was no point saving a man who didn't want to be saved, it would never work. but of course, you kept this all to yourself - you didn't want to give off the impression that you were okay with being the other woman because you weren't. shamelessly, you would constantly search his name up on social media or online to see any articles with updates about his marriage - and yeah, you were aware how bad that habit had gotten.

your fantasies were vivid, the memory of his hands trailing up and down your body on repeat in your mind all the time. the feeling of his lips pressed up against yours on that one, fateful night - you couldn't forget it. but that's the thing, as much as you wanted him and so desperately craved him - if he wouldn't leave her, you knew you couldn't force him to. you weren't going to wait forever, especially for a married man, and cillian knew that if he let you go, he'd come to regret it for the rest of his life.

his wife could tell. she knew that his mind was always going back to the thought of you - she could see it in the way he was acting towards her now, the way he touched her, the way he spoke to her - it almost seemed like he would try and pretend that she was you.

"honey, i don't know why you're so upset." cillian calmly explained to his wife, who was currently shouting at him in their shared home in dublin.

"you aren't even trying, cillian! it's like you don't care anymore - after over two decades of marriage you're just done?!" she screeched at him, and he rolled his eyes in frustration.

"oh, come on," he groaned, "don't be like that."

"oh, really? like i'm the one who had an affair with someone less than half my age." she sneered, and he knew that technically, she was right. she hadn't cheated on him, but he did cheat on her.

"were going to marriage counselling for it, i don't understand why you're so mad at me! i told you, we didn't even go past kissing." he huffed, and his wife was seconds away from losing it.

"how does that make it any better?" she yelled, "i know you still think about her, cillian. i went through your god damn phone! i saw the accounts you made to see what shes been posting. i know you wish that it was her in bed with you at night, sleeping by you. i saw the way you were looking at her in those pictures!"

cillian went silent at the bomb that his wife just dropped - and he couldn't even deny it anymore. of course he wished it was you in bed with him at night, and yes; if he had it his way, you'd be in her place instead. he imagined what a life with you could be like; the two of you living in a quiet, little suburban house with a few pets, and a beautiful garden - and you with a wedding ring on your finger, not his wife who he stopped loving years ago.

"you're thinking of her again, aren't you?" his wifes voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he looked at her as she had tears in her eyes.

"don't cry, please-"

"do you even love me anymore?" his wife sobbed quietly, interjecting. he sighed, staying silent, and she continued to speak to him through her tears. "i think it's best if you get it out in the open - maybe you hoped i wouldn't notice, but i've been married to you for over twenty years. i know you, cillian."

with a sigh, he looked down in shame. he couldn't bring himself to say anything, it seemed that his words got stuck in his throat at this very moment.

"your silence is enough of an answer," she said quietly, "but tell me cillian, you owe it to me after all you've put me through - do you love her?"

"i-i don't know i-" he stammered, knowing full well what the truth was; he did love you. he fell in love the moment he laid eyes on you. he fell in love with your youth, your radiance, your beauty, everything about you made this man weak. he'd barely known you for an hour and yet, he could confidently say that he loved you.

"you do know," his wife murmured, "you and i both know."

"well maybe i do," he whispered, "i can't change how i feel."

"twenty years, cillian! does that mean nothing to you?" she yelled, her rage apparent now.

"what do you want me to fucking say?" he spat back, knowing full well he was in the wrong here; but all his morals went out the window at this point, "i can't undo what i've done, and i'm sorry, okay? i'm sorry, but i also can't change the way i feel about her!"

"what's wrong with you? i don't even know who you are anymore!" she screamed at him, and now both of them were going back and forth, the argument escalating at an alarming rate.

"i don't care!" he shouted back, making his wife angrier.

"so, what now?" she screamed, "d'you want to get a divorce? is that what you want?"

"you know what? yes! in fact, i've wanted one since before i even met-"

"don't say her name." his wife spat, and that pushed cillian over the egde.

"i'm getting the divorce papers by the end of the week, and you're going to fucking sign them, i'll tell you that much." he seethed, and his wife started to throw whatever she could at him in a blind rage. as cillian ducked away from a dish being hurled at him, he decided to get one last dig in. "oh, by the way - i knew from the moment i met her, i'd much rather that she have my last name instead of you."

when you read the article titles and news headlines, you felt your heart drop.

"oppenheimer star cillian murphy and his wife have seemingly split - here's what we know."

you quickly wash down your glass of wine, and put your phone down in disbelief. you felt the guilt sink in slowly, and it made you want to cry; you couldn't help but feel like this was your fault. that you destroyed a marriage, and you had taken a man from another woman. you knew if that even if you weren't a hundred precent of the reason they divorced, you were at least a part of it. you were sure of that.

when you found out about his apparent divorce, you were shocked to say the least; you had finally come to terms with how he was probably never going to have the guts to leave her, and that was okay with you now. you didn't want to get dragged into a messy scandal, you were okay with letting him do what he wanted - he wasn't yours to keep, anyway.

up until now, he just didn't have the heart to leave her, as the media would think he'd only left her because he got the fame, and now he wanted some young, hollywood beauty. sure, it was partially true that he had left her for a younger woman that he so desperately wanted, but they didn't know how much he loved you. the media didn't know how badly he needed to have you.

and now that you were in the picture, those rumours would look like they were true - and it would be an absolute mess. the media would eat it up. so now, to force yourself to try and move on, you were talking to a bunch of other guys, but they just weren't him.

today, you were at another event where you were currently sitting at the bar, waiting for your favourite cocktail; a cosmopolitan after your second glass of wine. tonight, you needed it more than ever. this was a huge event, as you were one of the biggest stars attending, along with some other big names in hollywood. you heard about who else was going to be there, and cillian's name was included in that conversation. you felt stupid for thinking he wasn't going to be there, his fame had skyrocketed after oppenheimer - of course he'd be there.

tonight, you made waves as you walked the red carpet in your stunning, custom made gown by none other than donatella versace herself with the perfect mix of accessories and matching heels. you looked dolled up.

oh, and you also came with another man. that's right; you walked the carpet with your rumoured new boyfriend, evan peters.

when people saw the two of you step out onto the carpet together, they lost their minds. evan was quite a bit older than you, but still - he was a little over ten years younger than cillian. once the two of you were posing for pictures as the flashing lights consumed your vision, he wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed your cheek softly. the photographers were eating this up; and they were shouting your name left and right, along with various questions.

"over here, look over here!"

"how long have the two of you been together?"

"did you have an affair with cillian?"

"what happened with cillian murphy?"

"did you hear about cillians divorce?"

the questions were progressively getting more invasive, and the two of you stepped into the venue of the event, wanting a break from the cameras and flashing lights. evan headed to the bar with you, but excused himself for a moment.

of course, the moment you were alone, you saw cillian, along with some other cast members from oppenheimer, walk in. you recognize pretty much all of them right away, and you do your best to look unengaged and pretend that you didn't even notice him.

cillian saw you instantly, but before he could even say anything or go over to you - he saw your new man return to the bar, wrapping his arms around you from behind and placing a soft kiss on your cheek. in that moment, he thought he could actually feel his heart being ripped into two, but he kept his composure and smiled at his cast-mates happily.

"another drink already?" evan teased, a smile on his face, "everything alright?"

"mm, yeah. everything is fine." you say cheerfully, even though deep down your heart was hurting at the fact that the man now sitting in front of you wasn't the man that you were in love with. "i just get a little overwhelmed at these events, you know that."

"right, i'm sorry." he says softly, taking your hand into his. "you look gorgeous tonight, sweetie."

the way he complimented you and the environment you were in felt all too familiar, and flashbacks of your night with cillian came flooding back into your mind. you mentally shook them right out of your head for the night. you didn't want to hurt your own feelings again, so for the remainder of the night, you avoided him and stuck by evans side.

cillian on the other hand thought he was going crazy. did you see the news articles about his divorce? were you in love with someone else? did you even think about him?

the following weeks had gone by in a blur as you were currently promoting the anticipated release of your upcoming album, and things were going so well for you - but you felt empty inside. you thought you were losing it, driving yourself insane over a married (well, no longer) man who you'd kissed for a few minutes in a hotel room.

two weeks ago, you broke it off with evan. you were certain it wasn't going to work, he was such a sweet guy and you knew he deserved someone else because your heart didn't belong to him. it belonged to cillian as much as you didn't want it to.

what was it with you and this man?

after breaking it off with evan, you debated texting cillian. perhaps it was just bad timing and now that he was divorced, things could work. maybe you just needed a little time apart just so that you could make your way back to each other. as you picked up your phone to try and muster up a text, you opened your social media to see that tmz had a new article up:

"cillian murphy and estranged ex-wife seen out together in dublin - what does this mean for the former couple?"

and below, there were pictures of him and his ex-wife walking side by side on the streets of ireland, and a few pictures of them in a little cafe together, seemingly just talking - but this was enough to drive you up the wall. you were done; you were out the door, and he was out of chances.

bye.

if he couldn't make up his mind, you would make up yours. opening your text messages, you scroll down to his contact. it had been months since the whole oscars incident, and neither of you had ever talked after that - he didn't even reach out to you after his divorce. so, you figured that this was just a waste of time; maybe it was best to move on from the fantasies in your head.

and with that, you blocked his number and tried not to let your anxiety consume you. to be honest, you were sort of hoping that maybe things would've worked out between the two of you; it felt like it was meant to be - but now you weren't too convinced.

currently, cillian was cooped up inside of a hotel room down in los angeles and he knew that you'd most likely seen the pictures, everyone had at this point. he tried to message you for the first time since the hotel room fiasco, but as he tried to explain it to you, his texts kept going green - you'd blocked his number. he tried calling, but the line just went dead each time.

the pictures were taken so out of context, but how would you know that? you wouldn't. in reality, cillian had agreed to meet up with his ex-wife as they were supposed to talk about divorce settlements. that was all. the two of them walked around, enjoying the sun as they tried to talk about it civilly. his estranged, and now ex-wife, took the whole situation surprisingly well.

sighing, he grabbed his car keys and his jacket, and got into his car while speeding recklessly down the freeway; his heart beating exhilaratingly. as he sped down the freeways of los angeles, he took a moment to appreciate the beauty of it all. the palm trees and the pink sunset - it reminded him of you. vibrant and beautiful. so young, so reckless, and so carefree.

as you were winding down for bed, you heard the doorbell of your beachfront property being rang repeatedly. in a state of confusion, you make your way downstairs and started wandering towards the front door. who the hell would be on your doorstep ringing your bell at such an hour? swinging the door open, you find cillian standing there like a pathetic, love-drunk fool.

"are you fucking kidding me?" you deadpan, looking at him with an expression that said the same thing as your words. after nine months he decided to show up at your doorstep? how did he know where you lived?

"i know," he began, "i know i look insane but i'm- jesus, i'm fucking crazy about you."

you stare at him wide-eyed, as this was not what you were expecting to see this evening. "cillian," you sigh, "i saw the pictures-"

"i can explain," he interjects, his voice laced with desperation, "please."

there he was; standing outside your house in the middle of the night, begging for you because he couldn't let you go. begging after he'd left his wife of twenty years for you.

"fine, just come inside. i don't want any more leaked pictures online." you grumble, opening the door fully so he could come in.

once he got inside, you closed the door behind the both of you, walking to your living room together. this was the first time in months that you'd actually talked - and even though you tried to deny it, your heart was racing at just the sight of him stood there, desperate for you. as you sat across from him on your couch, you looked at him silently, letting him say what he needed to.

"i'm so sorry for the mess that i've created." he said quietly.

"you should be." you respond cooly, trying not to let his words effect you in any way. you knew better.

"i know the last nine months have been insane," he says, looking at you with remorse, "but i mean, you can't deny what we have. i've never felt this way about anyone - i wouldn't have divorced my wife if i didn't think this was something worth fighting for."

you rub your temples, "cillian," you groan, "you can't be saying shit like that."

"why not?" he retaliated, making you scoff. "you told me to reach out to you once i was divorced and you'd maybe give me a chance. i'm doing what you asked me to, baby please-"

"don't baby me," you scoff, "you didn't tell me from the beginning that you were married. let's say i do forgive you, and we do this for real - how can i trust you?"

"i-i don't know, but i'll do anything i can to make this work." he pleaded, "i haven't stopped thinking about you since the day i met you."

"jesus, you're crazy." you groan, and to that he agreed.

"yeah, i know," he agreed, "m'fucking crazy about you."

you threw your hands up in defeat as if to say "well?" and he just looked at you in awe, his salt and pepper hair complimenting his gorgeous blue eyes. he continued to stared at you. he certainly wasn't trying to hide hide how attracted to you he was.

"the pictures of you and your ex-wife..." you said quietly, looking away from him, "i can't trust you, cillian."

"we were just talking about settlements," he said, "you know better than anyone how the media is; they blow shit out of proportion and take everything out of context. i swear that's all it was."

"you can't just show up like this..." you trail off, a frustrated sigh leaving your lips.

"is this because of your new guy or somethin'?" he huffs, and you roll your eyes at him. "no," you explain, "i'm not even seeing him anymore, we broke it off weeks ago."

"oh," he says, his eyes lighting up, "well, that's good to know."

it was silent for a moment, the two of you sitting there in each other's company, both lost in thought.

"why?" you ask suddenly, the question lingering in the tension filled air.

cillian looks at you confused, "what?"

"why does it have to be like this?" you ask, feeling the weight of your emotions bring you down. "why does it all have to be so complicated? why did you have to make it so complicated?"

"if this is about my marriage-"

"of course it's about your marriage!" you exclaim, your emotions getting the better of you, "i've spent the last nine months driving myself insane over you - god, i don't even know why. i feel this overwhelming guilt because of your divorce and-"

you pause, getting choked up as every last feeling from the last nine months decided to reign it's terror on you in that very moment with cillian sitting right across from you on your couch. every ounce of guilt that was compiled up inside of you, every bit of anger and resentment, and every negative emotion poured out from the depths of your slightly broken heart.

with teary eyes, you finally look at him again. "i feel like i wrecked your marriage, and i-i don't want to be that type of woman."

"you didn't wreck anything." cillian says, moving close to you as he placed a hand on you, rubbing your back soothingly. "i was in the wrong - i should have told you the truth. i should have done a lot of things differently. if i could go back in time, i would."

"but you can't!" you say as the tears start flowing, covering your face with your hands.

"i can't, no," he agrees, "but i'll change, i'll do anything for you."

"are you insane?" you shout at him with tears pooling in your eyes, "i don't know why you-"

"because i fucking love you, that's why." he said suddenly, looking you dead in the eyes as you both went silent.

"i'm sorry?" you ask in shock, meeting his gaze.

"because," he sighs, "i've fallen in love with you."

"you barely know me-"

"but i want to," he insists, moving closer to you. "just one chance, please."

looking up into his gorgeous blue eyes once more, you felt yourself go weak. he chased you down for months, left his wife for you, showed up at your doorstep - what more could he do to prove he was all in for you? with a trembling breath, he reaches his hand to softly cup your face, wiping your tears away with his thumb. his eyes search yours for any trace of a mutual feeling, for any indication that you might've wanted him as badly as he wanted you.

as he was leaning in, the gap between his lips and yours was getting smaller and smaller by the second. despite everything that was said in the last ten minutes, you didn't stop him. you didn't back away because deep down, you knew you needed him as much as he needed you. the pull between the two of you was unexplainable.

softly, he kissed you for the first time in nine months, and instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck. as you tangled your hands in his greying hair, he pulled you closer by your waist. while his tongue was exploring your mouth, you boldly get on top of his lap. straddling him, you run your hands in his hair once more and deepen the kiss.

"tell me you feel the same way, i know you do." he whispered against your lips, pulling away just enough so that he could get the words out.

"i feel the same, cillian." you confess in a breathless whisper, and he starts to pepper kisses down your neck, trailing them along to your collarbone.

"thought about you every fuckin' night," he murmured against your skin, "m'gonna cherish you, my love."

"i fantasized about you all the time." you admit out loud, grinding your hips down onto him.

you could already feel how hard he was underneath you, and you bit your lip at the feeling of his clothed cock pressing up against your cunt.

"mm, yeah?" he groaned, "tell me, sweet girl."

his hands took hold of your waist, helping you grind down on his lap. "i thought about y-you..." you whimpered, feeling yourself soak through your panties already.

"well, don't get shy on me now." he said lowly, his hands reaching up to squeeze your breasts, rolling your clothed nipples between his fingers softly. since you weren't wearing a bra, he had easy access.

with a soft moan, you try your best to answer him as his bulge rubbed against your cunt and his fingers tweaked your nipples, causing you to lose all inhibitions. "t-thought about your cock stretching me open," you confess, "and- f-fuck, i thought about you bending me over, making me scream all night."

"how about i help you live out those fantasies of yours, hm?" he growled, pulling you into a sloppy kiss.

as you melted into the kiss, he reached his hand down and slipped them past the waistband of your pyjama pants. he pushed your panties to the slide and let his fingers swipe through your soaked folds, making you moan into the kiss. the feeling of his fingers just simply brushing against you was heavenly, and you knew you needed more.

"you're fucking soaked, baby." he groaned, biting your lip softly between his teeth.

in an instant, he was pushing you down onto your couch. you shimmied your way out of your pyjama pants with his help of course, and he also assisted in pulling your panties down, too. as he tossed them to the side, you felt your heart palpitate at what was about to happen.

he gently inserted his middle finger into you at a slow pace, your slick walls clenching down on him from sheer neediness.

"that's a good fucking girl," he praised softly, "feels good, baby?"

"m-mmhm," you moaned, looking up at him as he hovered over you.

with one hand, he continued to play with your tits, tweaking the nipple between his fingers and with the other hand, he was fingering you gently. the act was so intimate yet sinful at the same time, it had your head spinning. the way he kept eye contact was driving you insane as you looked into his icy blue eyes.

slowly, he inserted a second digit into your drooling hole, your back arching at the intrusion and slight stretch. you let out a quiet moan, and he started to curl his fingers, fucking you with them faster and faster.

"let me hear those pretty moans, sweetheart," he cooed, "i wanna watch you as you cum on my fingers."

"f-fuck, right there-!" you whined, arching your back even further.

as he fucked you on his fingers rapidly, you could feel the coil in your stomach about to snap. as your slick walls clenched down on cillian's fingers, you moaned his name out over and over, feeling yourself drenching his hand.

"fuck, you're so pretty." he complimented, watching your reaction as you came undone on his fingers for him.

after your chest was heaving and you were left a panting mess, he pulled his fingers out gently. he helped you slip your pyjama top off, and you assisted him in undoing his belt buckle.

as he pushed his pants down, his cock sprung out. your mouth watered at the sight of it, needing nothing more than for him to be balls deep inside of your aching, needy cunt right now. he got on top of you hastily, stroking himself a few times before he lined himself up with you.

he teasingly brushed his pale, pink tip through your sticky folds as his pre-cum leaked out, and you whined with desperation.

"i fantasized about stretching you open on my cock." he admitted suddenly, biting down on his plush lips. "i thought about how you'd look with it buried deep inside, begging me to let you cum."

his vulgar words went straight to your core, and you looked up at him with a rosy hue covering the apples of your cheeks.

"show me," you whimpered, "make me beg to cum on your cock."

it didn't take much convincing before he suddenly pushed into your warm hole, stretching you out beyond belief. you could feel him fill you fully, and you almost choked on air at the sensation of his cock actually splitting you open like he promised. even though your cunt was dripping, he was still met with some resistance just from how tight you were around him.

"jesus, baby," he groaned, "what a tight fucking pussy."

"uh-huh, y-you're so big-" you squeak, and he started to move in and out at a fast pace, barely giving you time to adjust.

as his cock filled you fully, you swore you could feel him bulging in your stomach. his fat, veiny cock was reaching places you didn't even think were possible to reach, and places that his fingers certainly couldn't. he continued to push deeper inside of you with harsh thrusts, knocking the wind out of you each time his cock brushed up against that spongy spot inside of you.

you closed your eyes as your slick started to drip down onto the couch. you'd never been so soaked in your life. he tapped your cheek a few times, causing your eyes to flutter open. softly, he cupped your face with one hand while the other held an unwavering grip on your leg, lifting it up over his shoulder so he could fuck you even deeper.

"look at me, sweetheart," he commanded softly, making you clench on his cock. "oh," he noticed, "you like it when i talk to you like that, huh?"

you indeed liked when he talked like that - scratch that, you fucking loved it. he could feel you squeeze his cock with your dripping cunt each time he just spoke, his voice bringing you closer and closer to the edge once more.

"cill, i-i...fuck!" you screamed as his cock brushed up against that sensitive spot inside of you, causing you to suddenly lose all ability to speak properly.

"hm, sweetheart?" he cooed lovingly, but continued ramming into you ruthlessly.

your pussy was soaked and stretched, and as you kept your eyes on his - you watched him in awe. the way his pink lips were slightly parted, his salt and pepper hair disheveled, and his brow furrowed. it was driving you into a permanent state of euphoria.

"i love you," you gasped between breathless moans and incoherent begging, "so much."

your pupils were blown, staring up at him with such intensity he thought he was going to break right then and there.

"fuck, sweetie," he groaned, "i love you, too."

"i-i'm gonna cum, r-right there-" you begged him, "please, can i?"

"cum on my cock, cum right fucking now." he almost growled, pounding your tight, sopping cunt mercilessly. his pace never wavered, and he continued to fuck you into euphoria, studying you as you tipped over the edge from his thrusts.

with a groan, he came with you. he filled you with everything he had, fucking his cum so deep into your cunt you could almost feel him bruise your cervix. after his cock spurted the last bits of his cum into you, he was a panting, love-drunk mess propped up above you.

you were just as fucked out, smiling at him dopily while his cock remained buried inside of your warm walls. cillian brought his hand back up to your face, brushing a strand or two out of your face before placing a gentle kiss on your swollen lips.

"my love," he whispered, voice saccharine, "you are everything to me. everything."

"i adore you." you say softly, letting a heavy breath out.

"we'll make this work, i know we will. i just can't live a life without you in it." he tells you.

the crowd cheered, giving you a standing ovation as you finished your performance. you smiled bashfully and yelled "thank you new york!" into the microphone as the final show of your tour ended, and you waved goodbye to the thousands of fans in the arena.

rushing backstage after your show, you run into cillians arms and he hugs you tightly. he places a soft kiss on your head as you smile up at him sweetly, and looks at you with a proud expression on his face.

"you were amazing, love," he says softly, pulling you into his side as the two of you walk into your dressing room, "m'so glad i could join you for the last half of your tour. love watching you perform, s'amazing."

"oh, cill," you smile bashfully, "shush, you're too sweet."

"my lovely wife," he sighed, kissing you softly, "i'm just so proud of everything you've done."

you sigh blissfully as he holds your hands in his, and you head back to the hotel your staying at before your flight tomorrow morning. as your head hits the pillow, you feel exhausted and like you haven't slept in ages. cillian wraps his arms around you, spooning you as you turn off the light.

"goodnight, mrs. murphy." he whispers softly, holding you in his arms.

now you didn't have to fantasize about what it was like to be his anymore - he was all yours now, and you were all his. last name and all.

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