#maybe some of the originals enemies to lovers

[everyeyeneverlie]

Now do you realize that you were wrong? You swore you'd never set foot in this house and here you are again. In my house, my room, lying on my disgusting bed. What do you make of that? Ay Sara Sara Sara Sara, If I had wanted, I had all the freedom to take advantage of you.

[heeology]

i want nobody but you | p.sh

synopsis → you and sunghoon have known each other your whole lives and although you've both dealt with jokes from classmates since elementary school on how you two would end up together, that never ended up happening; you two would brush it off and then move on. you never really thought about pursuing something with him romantically, especially since you like things with a more casual approach. but once sunghoon's girlfriend becomes a part of the picture, you can't help but feel these feelings consume you. being the way you are, however, you managed to push them down and you at least thought you got over them until you realize maybe they never left at all. or even worse: they were always there.

feat. → yujin (ive) & sungchan (riize)

genre → college au, friends to somewhat enemies to lovers, romance, smut, angst (eh, ig), slowburn (ig? srry lmao)

pairing → nonidol!sunghoon x fem!reader

warnings → MDNI, smoking !! (reader and sunghoon both smoke), drinking, cursing, mention(s?) of death, mention of hookups, reader is called and referred to (sometimes self referred to) as a: slut/whore; slutshaming, !! potential sh reference (pinching/hitting self; dk if that counts, but it's not mentioned after) !!, mentions of sex (obvi)

w.c. → 22.7k

a/n → long time no see lol. lmk if u would be interested in seeing some pics i took at the enha concert i went to :)) (i won't do vids because i was screaming like a baboon lmao) p.s. bear w me bc ik this is a long one, but i feel like i owe you all since i've been gone for practically a century, but pls give it a chance, i'm on my knees begging bc this took 3 days

disclaimer !! → i don’t ship any idols i portray as dating in this story irl nor do i have the intent to portray anyone in this story in a negative light, this is just for creative purposes, babes <3; this is all just fiction, take it lightly pls and thx

!!DO NOT COPY OR REPOST!!

-

-

-

Today has been a long day. You groan as you take a seat on a bench somewhere near the lecture hall you just left and you close your eyes as you lean back against it. You had originally thought your senior year of high school was torturous, but being a senior in college was far worse. Your eyebrows furrow a bit when you feel the weight of the bench shift a bit, meaning someone has taken a seat beside you. Your eyes open a bit and you turn your head to see Sunghoon next to you. A sigh escapes your lips and you turn your head away, closing your eyes again. 

Sunghoon sits there for a moment, looking at you. Lately, you two haven’t hung out as much and although he admittedly forgot to text you for the past week and half, you were still his best friend. He could argue, though, that “the phone works both ways”, so you’re not exactly innocent either. He’s seen you around campus, hanging out with some members of the basketball team, mainly the captain: Sungchan. You didn’t seem bothered by the lack of contact between the two of you, either, so it didn’t bother him or make him feel guilty that you haven’t hung out in just a few days. No…not at all.

“Nice to see you, too.” he mumbles. You stay quiet, honestly close to falling asleep on the bench, especially with the warm breeze that is gently blowing. He narrows his eyes a bit and leans back against the bench. He does the same as you, closing his eyes as he relaxes, but he frowns to himself. “You and Sungchan seem to be close.” he says, not really even understanding why he brought it up in the first place. 

This piques your interest. “What about him.” you say rather than ask, still keeping your eyes closed.

Sunghoon shrugs, still not really sure why he cares who you hang out with or how often or who they are or…anything like that. Maybe it upsets him to think about the fact that you might replace him with someone cooler as your best friend; maybe he was too lame for you. How juvenile, he thought to himself. But that’s what it felt like, to him, at least. “Nothing. I’ve just seen you guys hanging out a lot, that’s all.” Sunghoon replies.

“How would you know that; we haven’t really hung out or talked lately.” you reply, not meaning to sound snarky, but it most likely came across that way.

Sunghoon scoffs softly. “I have eyes; I can still see who you talk to.”

You open your eyes a bit and turn your head to look at him. “Stalker.” you tease. 

Sunghoon opens his eyes, almost as if he can feel you looking at him and he rolls them, not amused. “Am not…I’m just trying to start a conversation or whatever.”

“About the people I talk to?”

Sunghoon shrugs. “About anything…” It stays quiet for a moment. “It’s just been a while since we’ve talked.”

“And whose fault is that?” You ask, rhetorically.

Sunghoon frowns. “Well, I’ve just been busy-”

You scoff, “Yeah. I know.” You reply dryly.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just that that’s what you always say whenever we don’t talk to each other for a while. Like, I get it, you’re dating Yujin, big whoop.”

You’ve considered the possibility that he has just been busy with schoolwork, but no matter how many times you would give him the benefit of the doubt, it always ended up being because he was hanging out with Yujin. You weren’t really mad, per say, just annoyed. Severely annoyed. But what could you do? Ever since they started dating freshman year, you’ve felt like you were on the backburner. Which, again, you can’t really be upset about that. Afterall, she’s his girlfriend, whether you liked it or not. There is nothing wrong with her, you two got along fine, even if you don’t really talk or are even friends. You don’t hate her, not for any valid reasons, anyway. Still, despite how many people you know, Sunghoon is your only real friend and always has been. But it’s times like these when it feels like he means more to you than you mean to him.

“She’s my girlfriend.” He says, matter-of-factly.

You roll your eyes at his statement. “I know that,” you retort with annoyance, “you only ever bring it up every chance you get.”

“You seriously can’t be annoyed that I spend time with my own girlfriend.” He responds with the same tone.

Sometimes, Sunghoon gets caught up in things. Like being with Yujin, for example. He’ll be with her and then it just slips his mind to respond to a text of yours or to ask if you want to do something, he can’t help it. He knows that he’s your best friend and he’s certain that you’re his, too. Sure, Yujin means a lot to him, but you mean more, whether he would admit that or not. He just wants to make everything balanced, for everything to work out. But a part of him feels like something has been off since he started dating Yujin. Sure, he’s had other girlfriends, but never one for longer than a few months. This relationship is important to him. What if Yujin is the one? He can’t screw it up and he’s afraid to, so he makes sure to spend as much time with her as he can. He thought you would understand, but apparently not.

You’ve met Sunghoon’s other girlfriends, none of which bothered you as much as Yujin. Maybe because this one seems more serious. Maybe because she seems more important to him. The thought makes your stomach curdle. This whole situation makes your stomach curdle. You shouldn’t care so much, but you do. You hate that. “Whatever.” you reply, honestly not having thought of anything better to respond with. What were you supposed to say to that? Of course you understood, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.

“Besides, like I said, you and Sungchan have been hanging out a lot recently. Don’t act like you’ve never blown me off to hang out with him.” Sunghoon says.

“Barely.”

“Not barely. A lot. ‘Oh, Sungchan invited me to his basketball game to watch’, ‘Oh, Sungchan invited me to a party,’ ‘Oh, Sungchan wants to hook up’, ‘Oh, Sungchan this and Sungchan that’.” Sunghoon mocks, annoyed.

You frown. “Why do you care? You’ve got a girlfriend, so just hang out with her instead.”

Sunghoon frowns as well. “That’s not the point. The point is that you ditch me just the same to hang out with a guy who you’re not even dating. You don’t talk to me sometimes when you’re with him or another guy, so why are you so upset that I do the same with Yujin, who I’m actually dating?”

“Stop rubbing in the fact that you’re dating someone. Good for you, who gives a shit? So what if I do the same? It’s only because you do it first!” you argue back. You grab your backpack and stand up as you put it on. You start walking away from him and he watches you as you leave.

“Great talk!” he calls out to you in a sarcastic manner.

He didn’t mean to make you upset or try to “rub his relationship” in your face, he would never try to intentionally make you upset. So, why did he care? He doesn’t, it’s as simple as that. Maybe you doing the same thing to him with Sungchan bothered him a little. Maybe you wanting to spend your time instead with someone else you’re not even dating bothered him a little. But it’s not like he actually cared or anything. He knows he can’t tell you what to do or who to see, so why does he care? He knows he blew you off, so why didn’t he just apologize? Why did he bring up Sungchan in the first place? Sunghoon sits on the bench for a moment, rethinking things. Why was he acting like you were ignoring him when it was kind of the other way around? He sighs and closes his eyes again. He’ll figure it out later.

-

You let out a long yawn as the dim glow from your computer screen shines on your face. It’s three in the morning, and sure, you have a class tomorrow, but you can’t sleep and figure you can just skip your lecture anyway. Even if your brightness was all the way down, it still hurt your eyes every so often, so you would close them to make them feel better while you listened to the show you were watching. You hear your phone ding and your eyes open, your hand reaching for your phone to see the text.

“are you awake?” Sunghoon texts.

He knows you are. You almost always are, which is why he knew you would see the message. Although, he did anticipate the idea of you ignoring him. You were good at things like that, things that required a stubborn attitude. He didn’t mind your stubbornness, though. He didn’t mind anything when it came to you. He waited a bit, sitting in the darkness with just the light of his phone screen, his thumb gently tapping it so it doesn’t automatically turn off as he waits for you to text back. 

“yeah.” you text back.

It took you a few minutes and in all honesty, you almost didn’t respond. But you missed him, which even if he asks directly, you would deny. You wonder if he missed you too, but you shake that thought away.

“still pissy?”

This makes you laugh a little. Yes, you were, but you still found it a little funny.

“shut up.” you text back.

“wanna hang out?”

You sigh. Now he wants to? It takes you a while to reply with anything as you just stare at his message.

“can u bring the usual?” you reply.

He smiles at your text. “duh” he texts back.

You smile a bit, looking forward to actually hanging out with him. The whole argument was dumb anyway and you just wanted your best friend back. And after a while of waiting, you hear a knock on your dorm room door. You get up from your bed and unlock it, opening it as you step outside. He smiles softly when he sees you and you smile a bit back. You both quietly leave your dorm building before going outside and sitting on the curb. He sets the plastic bag he was carrying between you two and opens a bottle of beer before handing it to you. You take it and he opens his own, both of you taking a sip as a cool breeze blows softly. 

“Sorry about earlier,” he says quietly, “and for not talking to you for a week. I just got caught up with Yujin, you know?”

You take another drink, not really interested in discussing this anymore. “It’s fine.”

“I also wasn’t trying to rub her and I into your face and make you feel bad or anything, it’s just…” he trails off. It’s silent for a moment as you both drink. “This week has been shitty.” he mumbles.

“Amen to that.” you reply. He chuckles softly and you both clink your bottles before smiling and taking another drink.

“How’s your love life going, anyway?” he asks, genuinely curious.

Sure, there were other things he wanted to talk about, could talk about, but this is what slipped out of his mouth first. He was actually curious, he truly wants to know. He just wants to see you happy. 

You shrug, “The same; just hook ups.”

He looks at you for a moment. That’s it? You’ve been hooking up with people since the beginning of high school. Sure, you’ve dated some guys before, but they were all assholes; Sunghoon never liked them. He couldn’t stand them, to put it plainly. You deserve better, and he knows that. But he also knows you’re not into relationships. You like things to be simple and direct. But when it comes to how you feel, he knew you weren’t very expressive with that. Only when it comes to getting what you want. He kind of admires that about you.

“So…no one in particular? You just kind of…go after who you think is the hottest?”

You grin, “Something like that.” you take a sip, “So…how are things going with Yujin?”

You honestly hate that you asked. Why would you? Why would you want to hear about that? Surely, things must be going wonderfully if he’s so wrapped up in all that is her. But you’re still friends. It’s normal to ask these kinds of questions, right? Maybe he won’t really say much anyway and you’ll be a good friend for even asking. That’s what you’re hoping for, at least.

"Well... things have been kind of weird. She's been acting kinda distant recently; I don't know how else to explain it. She just seems really bored all the time. Like, the sex is good but it just seems like she's not into me anymore or something." he replies.

You give him a weird look as he brings up the topic of sex with Yujin. Gross. Just...Gross.

“Describing sex with your ‘girlfriend’ as good is never a good thing.” you say as you laugh a bit, taking a sip. 

Sunghoon scoffs a bit. Why did it seem like you were happy to hear that? It irritated him a bit, but he brushed it off. “Well, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s more like…it’s become something that’s routine.”

“Yeah, that’s probably not a good sign.”

Sunghoon sighs. "I know... it's just so weird though. I mean, we've been together for so long, and she's never been the type to get bored like this. It just sucks. I'm worried if something happened between us that's making her not want to be with me anymore."

You look at him for a moment as he drinks. You hate seeing him upset and you know that Yujin means a lot to him, especially since this is his first big relationship. You frown a bit as you drink. “Have you asked her?” you take another sip, “Aren’t people in relationships supposed to communicate and shit?”

"Yeah, I asked her and she said everything was fine, but like... I don't know. I just have a feeling that she's not telling me something, and I've tried asking her multiple times, but every time, she always says everything's fine." he takes another drink. “That’s pretty much what I’ve been spending last week doing, just…trying to fix what may not even be broken.” he mumbles.

You feel bad now for getting upset at him for blowing you off. It makes sense and you just got defensive again, not really knowing what he was doing. You sit there for a moment, not really sure what to say. Sunghoon didn’t mind the silence, though. He was trying to focus on Yujin and figure out why things feel this way when maybe, they aren’t even that way at all. Maybe it’s him. He isn’t sure, but he is sure that he already feels a million times better being with you, even if it is just sitting next to each other on a curb in silence.

“Do you cum?” you ask.

Sunghoon chokes on his beer a little, hitting his chest a bit as he coughs. He looks at you, not expecting your question at all, and as for you, well, you weren’t really expecting to ask it. It kind of just…came out. Your initial thought process was to ask more about his feelings on things in the relationship, seeming more like a routine, but it kind of led to you wondering if he even cums. In your defense, you thought that if he doesn’t, then maybe the relationship is going downhill. You look at him, as if what you asked was totally normal, taking another sip of your beer. He looks back at you, seeming to have processed what you asked.

“...yeah, pretty much every time.”

“Does she?”

Again, not something you really want to know, but you do want to help him.

“...sometimes, but most of the time she doesn’t.”

You suck air through your teeth, “Uh-oh.”

“It’s not a big deal, you know, so what if sometimes we don’t? It’s not about that, it’s just about…connecting or whatever.” he mumbles as he takes a sip.

“So, then what? Do you guys just like…do it yourself?”

“Yeah, so?”

You laugh. You can’t help it, it’s just too funny. Not his obvious pain with his relationship kind of going south, but the fact that he finds this to be normal. You at least found that funny.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, pissed off, but also slightly embarrassed.

“Dude, I'm not a relationship expert, but like...shouldn't people who have sex, I don't know, finish every time? I mean, I have never really had that happen often with any of the guys I hook up with, but hey, what do I know.” 

"Well... I guess, but it's not a big deal to me. As long as she enjoys it, that's what's important. And, it's not like it happens all the time. Sometimes she does finish, but it's just... well, not as often as I would hope..." he takes another sip.

You roll your eyes to yourself. Kind of out of instinct. If you’re going to be frank, you don’t give a damn about her.

You shrug, “I don’t know,” you take another sip, “you say you don’t cum sometimes, how come?”

“I don’t know…it just happens?”

You shake your head, “Nah, there’s a reason.”

“But the reason is dumb and I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” he takes another sip.

“Do you think she’s hot?”

What a stupid question. You wish you didn’t ask it. Why would you want to hear him talk about yet again how hot he thinks she is. It makes your blood boil and you would rather bash yourself over the head with your beer bottle than hear him talk about how perfect she is. But, there is a small, small part of you hoping for a certain answer. Only a small part.

“Of course I do.” he replies, simply.

“So, then, what’s the problem?”

“Sometimes I have a hard time finishing, happy? Jesus…” he mumbles as he drinks some more.

You roll your eyes. You’ve known each other your whole lives, you know when he’s lying.

“Mmm,” you take another sip, “no, you see, sometimes when I hook up with guys, I suddenly don't feel attracted to them, so then sometimes I don't finish. So do you just like sometimes not like her or something?”

He shakes his head, "No, I'm always attracted to her. But... sometimes I have a hard time finishing, and I don't know why that is."

“What do you think about?” you ask, kind of quietly.

A part of you didn’t want to ask that, besides, this conversation was becoming weird. But that small, small part of you was so desperately hoping for a certain answer. Fucked up? Yeah, most definitely, but that didn’t seem to stop you.

“About what?” he asks, actually clueless.

“When you’re having sex, what do you think about?” you ask again, taking a sip of your beer.

“...about her, that’s what you’re supposed to do, so,” he trails off, “Sometimes I…think about other things...” he answers, blushing a bit.

“Like what?”

“Just…random stuff. Why do you want to know anyway?” he asks, getting slightly defensive.

“Maybe that's what's distracting you. I don't know, spice things up with her or something. Or have an actual conversation with her about how you feel or whatever.” you mutter as you finish your beer.

He takes another sip of his beer. “Why are you acting like some sort of relationship counselor? You’ve never even really been in a relationship yourself.”

Maybe he wanted to piss you off with what he said, but only so you could back off. “Spice things up”? Yujin and him are fine, he’s deciding that right here, right now. He doesn’t want your help with this or to even discuss it anymore with you. It feels weird. Besides, he doesn’t want you to think that he’s…not good at sex. Not for any other reasons, just that…he doesn’t want you to think that about him.

You set your bottle down and look at him. “Because you’re my friend? I don’t know. Why do you care?” You hold your hand out, wanting him to hand the cigarettes he brought while your other hand digs into your sweatpants pocket for your lighter.

He reaches into the bag and hands them to you, knowing full well you could have grabbed them yourself, yet he still obliged. “So, in all of your hooking up, have you ever had feelings for anyone you hooked up with? And not those bullshit feelings for your douchebag exes, like actual feelings. Or have they all just been hookups?” he asks, hoping to change the subject.

You open the pack, “Hookups.”

“Every single one?”

“Mhm.” you answer, taking one out and putting it into your mouth, lighting it as you take a drag.

“So you’ve never fallen in love with anyone you’ve hooked up with?”

You laugh, “Fallen in love? How stupid.” you say as you take another drag.

“Okay, love might be a strong word, but like, have you never developed feelings for any of the people you’ve hooked up with?” he asks, finishing his beer.

“Nah.”

"Right, right. So, you're just all about hookups then, and that's cool, no shame or anything; I get it. But you've never felt even just a little bit of loneliness from it?" he asks as he sets his bottle down. You ignore his question, taking another drag. He knows by your reaction that he’s said something that bothers you. Whenever anything is mentioned that may reveal how you truly feel, you just block it off and move on. He sighs, not too sure why he bothered asking since you always ignore these types of topics. Sometimes, he wished you wouldn’t. He wished you would be more open with him. It feels like he can talk to you about anything and everything, even if sometimes he doesn’t want to, but he does anyway because you…well, you’re you. "I mean, it's gotta get kinda boring... always hooking up, never really connecting with anyone. Unless you don't care about that kind of thing."

“Love is stupid.” you reply flatly.

What a groundbreaking opinion. Truly, nobody has ever felt or thought the same thing. Great stuff. Sunghoon sighs at your answer, not really getting why you won’t just tell him. He wants you to. He can’t really explain why. It doesn’t have to do with wanting to get some satisfaction out of helping you or changing you, but rather, sometimes he feels like he knows nothing about you. You’re important to him, more than you could possibly understand, but still, sometimes, you seem so distant; like a stranger. He just wants to know that you trust him.

“So, just because love hasn’t exactly worked out in your life, you think love is stupid? I don’t really think that’s fair…just because your ex boyfriends were assholes doesn’t mean that true love doesn’t exist.”

For some reason, him talking about true love pisses you off. It pisses you off greatly. You can feel your skin crawl and anger boiling up inside you, so you take a drag from your cigarette, blowing out the smoke, wishing it was something else you were getting rid of.

“It’s not about them.” you take another drag, “Do you love Yujin?”

You think you know the answer already. No, you know the answer indefinitely. There is only one answer. Why would he have spent the past three–almost four years–dating her if he didn’t? You think about all the times he talked about her when they first started dating. You try not to, but your mind recalls all the details, how he said them, what he said, how he looked while he was talking. It made you sick.

His heart sinks a little when you ask the question. He stares at you for a moment, not responding to your question right away. He takes a long deep breath before he answers, “Yes.” You sit silent. You heard his answer, but you don’t want to acknowledge it. You take another drag from your cigarette, a longer one this time, blowing out the smoke slowly as you tap some of the tobacco from the butt of it off. “Do you…not believe me?” he asks, watching you. He can tell something is on your mind, you’re just having trouble saying it. He’s not asking to be snarky or anything, he asks in more of a gentle tone, just wanting you to open up or at least just say something remotely close to how you feel.

“No, I do.” you answer quietly. For some reason, it hurts to say that. It’s true, though; you do believe him…unfortunately.

Silence consumes the both of you, just sitting on the curb as time passes. Crickets chirp softly in the distance and the subtle burn of the tobacco from your cigarette fills it a bit, but not enough. He stares at you, both annoyed and concerned. 

“Then what is it? Are you trying to say there’s something wrong with my relationship?” he asks, suddenly defensive. Even he, himself, doesn’t know why he’s suddenly so defensive about it, especially since he brought up the issue earlier, but he doesn’t like thinking that you think there is something wrong.

“Jesus, it’s not like that.” you respond, knowing full and well it is like that.

“Then spit it out; what are you trying to say?”

“Shut up.”

You take another drag and he rolls his eyes, annoyed. “You know, you’re so annoying sometimes.”

“So are you.”

“Yeah, I know, but you’re worse.”

You take another drag, genuinely wanting him to shut up, or for things to be normal. Or better yet, for things not to be complicated. “Go cry about it to your girlfriend.”

“Screw you.”

“Ditto.”

“Whatever.” he says, pissed off.

“Yeah, whatever.” you mumble as you take another drag.

He continues to look at you, pissed off at how you don’t seem to care about anything. He used to like that a lot about you, how you never cared about what people thought and are able to brush anything off. Maybe “used to” is a bit strong, he still likes that about you, but for right now, it’s incredibly infuriating. 

“You know, I’ve noticed that you always avoid giving direct answers to questions. Maybe that’s why you’re so scared of commitment; Not willing to really speak your mind out of fear of hurting someone’s feelings or your own.” he says, hoping this would piss you off enough to just say how you feel.

You roll your eyes, “Shut up.” you say as you continue smoking your cigarette.

“No, I won't shut up. In fact, I'm gonna keep talking because this is one of the rare occasions where we’re actually having a serious conversation and not just talking about petty stuff.”

You roll your eyes again. “I don’t want to.” you reply, simply.

“Too bad. because I am really curious about it. So, I’m just gonna keep asking questions. Like, have you ever experienced real heartbreak before? Because you seem like the type that just throws people away and moves on with no remorse.” You become quiet. Sure, you weren’t answering before, well, barely, anyway. But this time, you feel like you’re shrinking. That type of quiet. The type of quiet you become when you feel like you got caught and you don’t want to admit to what you did. You just smoke your cigarette. “And you don’t just avoid answering questions about your romantic life, either. You do the same thing when it comes to family, friends, and anyone else. You just push people away and never actually let anyone get to know the real you.” 

“You know the real me.” you say, looking at him. In all honesty, you were insulted. He was seriously telling you that he “doesn’t know the real you” after you guys have been friends since you were two years old? What does that say about your friendship?

“No, I really don’t. All I know about you is the surface layer stuff that you’re willing to share, but I don't actually know you. No one does. Because you never let anyone get close enough.” he says as he looks you directly in the eyes, meaning every word he says. Well, maybe not every word, but it is how he feels. He doesn’t want you to get frustrated, but if that’s what it takes for you to finally say how you feel, then so be it. You do feel yourself getting frustrated and you look away, taking another drag. “And don’t deny it, ‘cause you know it’s true. You just push people away and never let yourself be vulnerable, ‘cause if you did, then they could use that vulnerability against you. And god forbid anybody ever find out about your deepest insecurities-” 

“Shut the fuck up.” you say, feeling anger seethe out of you. He sits there, somewhat stunned by your response. Not exactly that you became angry, but more so that he actually got a reaction out of you. He watches you as you put your cigarette out and stand up. “I’m going back to my room.” you mutter. 

He stands up. “Seriously?” he says as he sees you start to walk away. He scoffs. “You’re just going to leave? Like that? Whatever.” he mumbles as he grabs the pack of cigarettes you put back into the bag (the pack he specifically bought for you and always buys whenever you guys hang out like this). He opens it and grabs one, lighting it as he sees you turn around. You walk back over to him and snatch the pack of cigarettes from his hand. “The hell?” he asks, annoyed, as he tries to grab it back.

You hold it out of his reach. “You don’t even like red Marlboros.” you say, almost tempted to take the one out of his mouth, too just to spite him.

“Give it back.” he says sternly as he takes a small drag from the one in his mouth, holding it between his fingers as he glares at you.

“No.”

“It’s my pack of cigarettes.”

“That you bought for me.”

“And I want it back.”

“Well, tough shit, I’m not giving it back.”

“Give it.” he says as he holds out his hand. You ignore him and turn around, starting to walk away. He takes another drag, grimacing because you’re right, he doesn’t like this brand, but he’s only doing this to spite you. He gets even more pissed off just seeing you walk away. “Why are you always such a pain in the ass?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” you yell back.

He quickly puts out the cigarette and puts the bottles into the bag before catching up to you. “I'm not the one who’s always being super mean and acting all mysterious about everything. Like, what’s with all the attitude and snarky comments? You’ve been extra shitty lately.”

“Fuck you.”

He scoffs, “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You know, you’re being shitty, you just don’t wanna admit it.”

You stop walking and turn to look at him, throwing the pack at him. “Then go away.”

He grits his teeth and grabs the pack from the ground. He looks at you, “Whatever. I'm leaving. But just know, one of these days, you’re going to actually push someone away for good.”

“Hopefully it’s you.” you say as you cross your arms.

“Yeah, me too. Because I am so fed up with your bullshit.”

“Great. Go away.”

He rolls his eyes and walks past you, his arm bumping into yours purposefully as he heads back to his dorm.

-

As Sunghoon makes his way to his lecture, he sees Yujin in the distance talking to some of her friends. He thinks about your conversation last night. He had hopes of confiding in you a bit more about how he felt, but of course that’s not the way things panned out. He had no time to focus on that, even if he was feeling even worse now that he possibly lost his best friend for good. Shit…did he really lose you for good? He feels his blood run cold, but he’s trying to forget it and focus on her. She’s his girlfriend, he has to remember that. He walks up to her, smiling a bit. She looks at him.

“Oh…hey.” she says softly.

“Hey…can we talk for a minute?” She nods her head and stands still. Sunghoon glances at her friends and then looks back at her. “...in private?” Yujin glances at her friends before following Sunghoon over into the library, taking a seat at a table near one of the back bookshelves, a little bit of space between the two of them. “Is there a reason you’ve been acting like this lately? Do you not…want to be with me anymore?” Sunghoon asks, just getting straight to the point.

Yujin is quiet for a moment. “Everything is fine.” she says.

He crosses his arms, feeling himself getting frustrated. Why can’t people just be direct like you? Yeah, you’re not really direct with your feelings, but you are when it comes to anything else. “Are you sure? Because you've been really distant. We haven't been talking as often, you barely want to spend time with me... and it feels like you're avoiding being intimate with me, too. I had to almost beg you to spend time with me last week. Is there really nothing? Are you sure everything is fine?” Yujin listens and stays quiet. Sunghoon sighs. "You know, couples are supposed to communicate and shit, right? If something is bothering you, just come out and say it." Sure, he took a page from your book with what you said last night and perhaps some of what you said rang true after all, but he’s not really looking to give you a “you were right” moment at this time.

“You being friends with her bothers me.” Yujin says as she crosses her arms.

Sunghoon freezes for a moment, taken aback by her response. “...are you being serious?” he asks, not totally sure if she’s just messing with him.

“You hang out with her more than me to the point that I had to ask you to stop texting her whenever we would hang out and you always say you’re “just best friends”, but I don’t believe you. Do you have feelings for her?”

“Do YOU think I have feelings for her?” Sunghoon asks, becoming defensive while also avoiding answering her question directly. 

“Yes.” she answers, simply.

“What, do you think I’ll dump you for her or something?”

"She's a slut. You know it, I know it, everybody knows it. I don't care if you guys are close, I'm worried she is going to make a move on you and then you break up with me just for her to use you once and then ruin you; She's bad news." Yujin says.

He feels his jaw drop a bit at what she says. Did she seriously just say that? And so boldly? He feels himself become upset about the way she talks about you. He wants to defend you, he always has, but he frowns. What if this leads to Yujin breaking up with him? You did say last night that you two were done with each other, so why does it matter? He doesn’t agree with Yujin, but he wants to save this relationship…

“You really think I'm that naive? That I'd fall for a girl like her? Just because we’re close friends doesn’t mean I automatically get feelings for her and forget about you. You know I'm smart enough to not get mixed up with someone like her.” he says, feeling like his heart is breaking as he says it. He wants Yujin to feel reassured, but after saying this…it doesn’t feel worth it.

“So you agree.” Yujin says.

Sunghoon sits there, feeling like he’s about to throw up. Why is this so hard? Why can’t he just say ‘yes’ and move on? Why can’t he be happy with Yujin? He just nods his head. “I wouldn’t fall for someone like her.” he says extremely quietly, almost as if he never wanted those words to leave his mouth. But they did and it was too late.

Yujin smiles, satisfied by his answer. She leans in and kisses his lips quickly, “I believe you.” she says softly.

Sunghoon hesitates, not glad that she believes him. Not glad that she said those things about you. Not glad that he said those things about you. He’s just not happy. He gives her a small smile and kisses her cheek quickly. “I’m glad.”

-

You are sitting on a bench, scrolling through your phone as you wait for your next lecture to start soon. Sunghoon sees you as he exits his lecture hall and his gaze lingers on you for a moment. He sighs to himself a bit, feeling like he was being pulled in two different directions. The more he thinks about it, he feels as though Yujin was giving him an ultimatum to choose you or her. If she said it outright, there isn’t a cell in his body that would hesitate to choose you. He thinks back to his conversation with Yujin in the library and he feels sick; he knows he did something wrong. 

He walks over to you and takes a seat next to you, just wanting to make up and move on. To his surprise, however, you get up immediately and take your bag before walking away. He sits there, confused, but figures you’re still upset about the argument last night. He gets up and he follows you before catching up and gently grabbing your arm, but you end up taking it away and start walking again. He bites the inside of his cheek before stepping in front of you, “Why are you walking away from me?”

“Get away from me.”

“No.” he said as quickly as the words left your mouth.

You look at him, feeling your eyes sting, hot tears wanting to form, but you blink them away. “You should probably go find your girlfriend, you wouldn’t want to be seen hanging out with a slut like me, right?” you ask rhetorically.

“Hey-,” he cuts you off, frowning instantly when you call yourself that. “Stop it…you know I don’t see you that way.”

“That’s a fucking lie; I heard you talking to Yujin. Or are you surprised about that too since you were in the library and someone like me couldn’t possibly be in a place like that.” you say as you cross your arms, swallowing as if that will help mask your clear frustration.

“...what?” he asks quietly, freezing as he realizes what you’re saying.

“I heard you. I heard you agree with her when she called me a slut. I heard you say you "would never be stupid to fall for someone like me". Well, fuck you. Go be with your perfect girlfriend, asshole.” you say before you push past him, swallowing again, but this time to stop yourself from crying.

“Wait-” he tries to grab your arm again, but you pull it away and keep walking. He feels his heart sink as he watches you walk away. The world felt as if it just collapsed. He feels like he’s sinking and as he watches you become further from him, he feels like he’s lost everything. He’s holding his breath, not necessarily realizing he is, almost as if he exhales, he’s not sure he has the strength to take another breath knowing he’s hurt you; he doesn’t deserve to.

-

Everything moves in slow motion, all voices muffled, as Sunghoon feels himself being dragged inside of a party by Yujin. He can hear and see her laughing and talking with her friends as they walk inside the loud and crowded atmosphere, but he feels as if he’s hollow. He stands there like a zombie as Yujin talks and greets some of her friends. He’s not sure how it happened, especially since it was almost midnight and he honestly just wanted to go to sleep, but he somehow ended up here. His eyes felt heavy as they looked around the room, but he subconsciously stood up straighter when his eyes landed on you. It was like he had been resuscitated, his heart beating rapidly as he sees you and then he sees him.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, noticing how Sungchan was standing closely to you, how his eyes scanned every inch of your body with some stupid, smug smirk on his face. Sunghoon rolled his eyes again and grimaced at the sight. He sees how you whisper something into his ear, Sungchan grinning as he places his hand on your hip. Suddenly, Sunghoon’s heart stopped again as his gaze fixates on his hand. His hand grips Yujin’s tightly as he clenches his jaw and his other hand curls into a fist, his fingernails digging into the palm of his hand. His breathing becomes heavy as he sees you smile, smile in a way he’s never had you smile at him before as your hand caresses Sungchan’s cheek while you clearly flirt back with him. Sunghoon was livid. He feels like an extra in his own life as he watches you fall for someone like that.

“Baby…?” Yujin asks, loosening her hand and taking it away from him since he was practically cutting off her circulation.

“I’m fine.” he mumbles, hints of anger and annoyance clear in his tone. He doesn’t look at her as he answers and she catches on.

She looks to where his gaze is and then she looks back at him, upset. “Why are you looking at her?” she asks as she crosses her arms. “You told me you don’t have feelings for her. I’m your girlfriend, not her.”

“Stop, Yujin, it’s not like that…” he mumbles, annoyed as he keeps looking at you and Sungchan. He watches as Sungchan puts his arm around your waist and he feels like the air has just been knocked out of him. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he glares at the two of you, wanting nothing more than to shove him off of you.

Yujin scoffs, “I don’t even see how you could have feelings for a slut like her.” she mumbles, taking a sip of a drink her friend brought for her. Sunghoon keeps his attention on you. How Sungchan keeps you close, whispers in your ear to make you giggle and you indulge in it, how he touches you, and how he looks at you as if he’s some sick animal that wants to devour you. “Did you even hear me?” Yujin asks, pissed off.

“Yeah, I heard you.” Sunghoon mumbles as he continues watching the two of you.

Yujin glares at him and then grabs his hand, dragging him away from her friends. Sunghoon just goes along with it and as Yujin starts dragging him upstairs, Sungchan leas in and kisses you. Sunghoon’s eyes widen as he continues going upstairs with Yujin, her dragging him into an empty bedroom and closes the door behind them. Sunghoon feels like all thoughts had escaped him when he saw that and he stands there with only one thing on his mind: you.

“Let’s have sex.” Yujin says as she looks at him.

Sunghoon snaps out of it and looks at her, feeling like this is his first time seeing her tonight. He looks at her in confusion, not wanting to since he only has you on his mind, but he doesn’t want to upset her any further, so he nods his head. Yujin pulls him towards her and kisses him. He hesitates, feeling himself grimace, but he tries to ignore it and kiss her back. He doesn’t want to be up here with her, he wants to be down there with you. As they continue to kiss, Yujin begins to undress herself and Sunghoon feels himself tense up. He tries to forget about you and focus on her, thinking maybe helping her undress would help, but it doesn’t. Not even a little bit. 

Yujin moves them over to the bed as she keeps kissing him and he sits there, partially kissing her back and also sitting stiff as a board. He knows this is supposed to be hot for him, having a practically naked girl on him, but he only finds himself wishing it was you. Yujin kisses down his neck as she takes off his shirt and he feels like he’s zoning out, not moving a muscle. Yujin moves her hands along his chest and down his body and then stops kissing him as she looks at him.

“You’re not even hard.” she says as she frowns. Sunghoon just stares at her, not necessarily surprised, but he still feels bad. "What the hell do you even like about her? She's a fucking whore who opens her legs for any and every guy. She has nothing else to offer besides her fucking pussy, which probably is already stretched beyond repair." Yujin says, angry. "She's nothing! She's not even special and yet she always gets any guy she wants. Well, why does she get you too?" Yujin tears up. "I'M your girlfriend, not her! Do you even love me?" Yujin asks, frustrated.

Sunghoon knows her anger is justified and he feels awful for feeling like he wants her to be you instead. As he watches and hears her say all of these things, he feels bad for treating her like this, but he also becomes angry at listening to what she’s saying about you. He feels bad for saying it feels like he doesn’t know you, because he does, and he knows you’re nothing like who she says you are.

“Answer me!” Yujin yells.

“I do love you.” Sunghoon says quickly.

“...do you love her?”

He stays quiet. Does he love you? He doesn’t know how to answer that. He knows he cares about you more than anyone else, he knows that even when you two fight, he would never want anyone else but you to be by his side, he knows that you’re the only one who gets him, he knows he likes making you smile and laugh and sometimes when you look at him, he feels like he can just look back at you forever. But is that love? Then, what is it he feels for Yujin? Does he love you and not her? How come he never realized it before? Did he always feel this way?

"Why the hell did you even ask me out? Why did you even ask me to be your girlfriend if all this time, you've wanted her? If all this time you've been in love with her?" Yujin asks, furious.

What is he supposed to say? Has he always been in love with you? He thinks for a moment. He thinks about why he asked her out in the first place, about a week after you hooked up with some guy after you two just started college. Was that the reason? Was it because he just wanted something and he knows deep down, you don’t want the same, so he found it somewhere else? You…everything has always been about you, his whole world has always revolved around you.

Yujin gets up and gets dressed. "If you want to be with her so badly, fine. But just know, she's still a whore. She'll just use you and then toss you aside." Yujin says as she finishes getting dressed. "But by all means, go sleep with that slut. We're done." Yujin says as she leaves the room.

Sunghoon sits on the bed in silence. Just great. Now, he doesn’t have a girlfriend and worst of all, he still can’t have you. He sits there for a moment longer before getting up and putting back on his shirt. Screw this party, he shouldn’t have come anyway. He walks out of the bedroom and goes downstairs, feeling like his mind is in a different place as he walks outside. He stops and notices you sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette. He feels relieved, not seeing you in Sungchan’s arms, and for a split second, he wishes he could just walk over and take you into his, but he pushes that thought away and just decides to take a seat beside you on the curb instead. You scoot away a bit from him, silence looming over the two of you and he feels even worse. 

“You shouldn’t be sitting here, you know. Your girlfriend might get pissy.” you mumble as you exhale some smoke.

“I’m not with Yujin anymore.”

You pause for a moment, “...I saw you two go upstairs.”

“She just…got upset that I couldn’t get hard. I just had so many thoughts running through my mind…” he trails off, not wanting to ramble on about it.

“Whatever.” you say as you take another drag.

“I wish I never asked her out.” he says before taking a deep breath, feeling like he said something he didn’t even realize he was keeping a secret, not even from himself.

“Why are you telling me this? In case you forgot, I am not your friend anymore. Not after what you and her said about me this morning.” You take another drag, “It's one thing for her to call me a slut, I don't care about her, but you? You agreed with her. You made fun of me. You're supposed to be my best friend and you say I'm a slut and then that you aren't "stupid" enough to date "someone like me"?  Fuck you, honestly. I was so pissed when I heard that. I know we fought the other night, but I never thought you would say that shit about me.” You take another drag. “So stop talking to me about your problems like we're still friends. You want nothing to do with "someone like me"? Well, then, you got it.”

Sunghoon stays silent, feeling as if everything around him is crumbling. You’re sitting maybe a foot away from him, but he feels like you’re on the other side of the planet. “I’m sorry.” he says softly, feeling ashamed to have talked about you like that.

You shake your head and continue smoking. “Whatever.”

“I miss you.” he says suddenly. “And, I shouldn’t have said any of that this morning. I was trying to reassure Yujin at your expense and…that was a big fuck up by me. None of what I said was worth any pain I’ve caused you.”

“Well, I don’t miss you. I don’t even care.”

Sunghoon stays quiet for a moment. “I have to fix this. Not because I feel like it will make me feel better to know I said sorry, because that doesn’t fix anything; that doesn’t make you feel better. I want to fix this because, even if you don’t believe me, I value our friendship more than anything in the world.”

You scoff and don’t reply, blinking away your tears as you continue smoking. “I don’t need you. Think what you want about me, I don’t give a fuck.”

“Hey…” he says tentatively as he notices you blinking away tears. He feels like he got punched in the gut and hates himself for knowing he’s the one that caused you to feel this way. “I know I hurt you…a lot.” he admits. He doesn’t know if you would want to listen to anything else he has to say, but he wants nothing more than for everything to go back to normal. To have you back. To just have you look at him. Anything.

You scoff, “You? As if.” you say as you put out your cigarette. “Don’t flatter yourself. Like I care about your opinion.” you say as you stand up. “I don’t need your pity and I don’t need your friendship. I don’t need you.” you say as you walk away and back into the party.

He doesn’t hesitate to follow you, not wanting to let you go. He can’t. He can’t bear the thought of you actually not being a part of his life, not for one goddamn second. He tries to catch up to you, but he stops in his tracks when he sees you go back over to Sungchan. It feels as though time has stopped and he was cursed with having to watch you be with him for the rest of his life. You whisper something to Sungchan, prompting him to grin and put his hands on your waist. Sunghoon feels like he’s about to collapse as he watches Sungchan whisper something back to you before taking your hand and leading you upstairs. He wants to do something, take you away from him, tell you that you mean so much more and are so much more than whatever Sungchan thinks about you. How you mean everything to him and watching you walk upstairs with some other guy feels as though you are taking away every piece of Sunghoon, breaking him apart. But he doesn’t and an hour passes before you walk back downstairs with Sungchan, his arm around your waist.

Sungchan whispers something in your ear before letting you go and walking over to his friends, all of them laughing and teasing him. You just walk back out of the party, feeling sick to your stomach; as if you just made the biggest mistake of your life; shame. As you walk down the sidewalk, the night suddenly feels much colder than before. You take out your cigarettes and start smoking another one. Sunghoon follows and catches up, “Can I have one?” he asks, not knowing what else to say, but wanting to say something. You stay quiet, but eventually extend the one you were smoking to him. You stop walking as he takes it, taking a drag as he stands beside you. 

You hold out your hand, wanting it back and after he takes another inhale from it, he exchanges it back. You take another drag, staying quiet, as you extend it back to him. He takes it as you two share the cigarette and he hands it back to you, almost wanting to just hold your hand instead. You take a long drag, holding the smoke for a while before slowly exhaling. “...you were right.” you say quietly as you hold the cigarette out for him. “It is lonely.”

He takes the cigarette, feeling hopeful that this is the beginning of an honest conversation, and relieved that you’re opening up. He hands it back to you, “Are you lonely? Do you miss having a relationship?” he asks, softly, wanting to make sure he’s being cautious so he doesn’t hurt you again.

“Not the ones I used to be in, no. Those guys were…well, you know.”

“Yeah…” he mumbles. You sigh and take a seat on the curb. He follows suit, seeing if you’ll say something else, but deciding to break the silence. “So…what kind of guy do you want?” he asks, deep down hoping for a certain answer. 

You don’t answer him and instead, ignore his question. In all honesty, you don’t know. Well, you do, but you’re too scared to admit it. “You were also right about me being a slut.”

“I-I didn’t mean it-”

“You know it, everybody else knows it…and I always knew it.” You take your cigarette back and take a drag. “Hearing you say it sucked, though, but I know it’s the truth.”

“I shouldn’t have said it. I was so caught up in trying to make Yujin feel better and fix things between us when it wasn’t worth it. Not when it came at your expense.”

“I know.”

“I should’ve still stuck up for you. It didn’t matter if she was my girlfriend, you don’t deserve to be talked about like that.”

You shrug and hand him the cigarette, lighting a new one for yourself to smoke. “I don’t care anymore. Hooking up with Sungchan just now made me realize it. Seeing and hearing his friends tease him for it…” you take a long drag, “I knew that’s what I am.”

He does the same and looks at you. “Did you want to hook up with him?”

“No.”

“Then, why did you do it?” You ignore his question and keep smoking. “Hey…” he says softly. He knows you’re avoiding his question, but he wants to hear what you have to say.

“What happened with you and Yujin tonight?” you ask, wanting to change the subject.

“Just…an argument.”

“About…?”

“That’s not important.”

“You wanted to tell me all about it earlier. You said something about you not getting hard and regretting asking her out. What the hell happened? I thought you loved her or whatever.” you mumble as you inhale more smoke, a part of you hoping it chokes you.

“I do love her. But I guess…it meant something different to her. She wanted things from me I couldn’t do.”

“Like what.”

“Like…her not wanting us to be friends anymore.”

You scoff before continuing to smoke. “You should’ve chosen her.”

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow as he takes a drag. “You think I shouldn't have chosen my friend who's been with me through thick and thin over someone who was basically controlling who I talked to?”

“She was just controlling that you don't talk to me. Can't blame her, she probably thought I would try to sleep with you or something. Besides, since when did us being friends for so long suddenly matter? It didn't when you agreed with her about me being a slut.”

“It matters to me.” He says, feeling his heart sink a little at your words. It seemed like you didn’t think your friendship meant anything. He takes another drag and sighs quietly before continuing. “You’re my best friend. I care about you more than anyone else.” You stay silent as you continue to smoke. “Do you really think I don’t care about you?” he asks, softly. You just keep smoking, not really sure how to answer. He sighs to himself as he does the same and his mind wanders to thinking about you and Sungchan again. He rolls his eyes to himself as he tries to push those thoughts out of his head.

“You asked me if I ever felt heartbreak when we fought that night, talking about if that’s why I have commitment issues or whatever.” you say as you take another drag. “Yeah…I have.”

“Was the heartbreak from…” he let’s the question linger in the air for a moment, “a relationship?” You shake your head. “So…what was it from then? Who broke your heart?”

You stay silent for a moment, just smoking “...i didn't realize I fell in love with him until he got a girlfriend, well, his first serious girlfriend. At first, I didn't really care, but then…” you go quiet for a moment as you keep looking ahead, not at him. “The way he talked about her, would smile a certain way when he was with her, like he's never smiled at me before...laughing at jokes they shared...seeing him kiss her, hold her hand…” you take another drag, “holding her hand..” you repeat, like you’re lost in thought. “It's something so stupid and simple, but I've never had a guy hold my hand romantically...but he held hers and I remember feeling like I couldn't breathe. I couldn't do a damn thing but suddenly wish I was his girlfriend instead. And then I realized. I loved him.” you take another drag, “I loved him and he was in love with someone else.”

He stayed quiet the whole time you talked. He took in every single word. He took in how you said every single word, how you looked as you spoke. He felt his heart break for you. The way you talked about it was nothing like he’s ever heard you talk about; so…innocent. “Did you ever try to tell him how you felt?”

You stay quiet for a moment as you swallow. “I almost did. One time. I just felt so tired from pretending and I didn't want to just hookup with anyone anymore. I wanted to be his more than anything in the world. I almost told him and then…” you take another drag from your cigarette. “He started telling me about how he finally had sex with his girlfriend. How hot she is. How he had never seen anyone so beautiful. How he couldn't believe he was so lucky to be dating her. Fuck-” you pinch your thigh to stop yourself from crying as you take another drag. “I felt so...gross. I had never had a guy say that about me, never had a guy be proud to be with me, but the way he talked about her and everything he was saying...I knew he would laugh in my face if I, just some slut, was in love with him; he would feel grossed out or whatever. No matter how close I thought we were, I knew right then and there I would never be like her. Never like the girl he wanted.” you take another drag, “So I didn't say anything.”

Sunghoon stayed quiet again, feeling awful. He hated that you thought about yourself that way. He hated that other people had made you feel that…him included. He hated this guy, especially, for making you feel this way. What a piece of shit. You deserve nothing but the best and this guy pulls this bullshit with you? He was about ready to punch him in the face. “And you’re still friends with him? After he did all of this to you?”

“He’s all I’ve ever had.”

“He’s not all you have, though. What about me?” he asks, intending to make something positive out of this all. He just wants you to know how precious you are to him because he cares about you so much. 

This, doesn’t help whatsoever, and you feel like you’re about to burst into tears. You can’t tell if he’s the idiot or if you are; maybe the latter. But when he says that, you just feel like sobbing, curling up into a ball, and dying right then and there. You pinch your thigh again, to prevent yourself from crying because you absolutely loathe it.

He notices and immediately puts his hand on yours to stop you. He hates seeing you like this and he looks at you, not wanting you to suppress this anymore.

His hand on yours, however, makes you feel even worse. Worse because it makes your stomach do flips and you can feel your heart beat faster. Worse because you know it only carries the connotation of a friend comforting a friend…nothing more. You pull your hand away and continue smoking.

He doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t try to take your hand back. It hurts him to see you pull yourself away. He just wants to make you feel better, feel safe, feel loved. Feel nothing but happiness because that’s all you deserve. But you don’t. He wants to give you everything, and so, he tries again to comfort you. He reaches for your hand, gently taking it into his, it enveloping yours as he holds it as if it is the most delicate thing on earth.

“Don’t.” you whisper, taking your hand away.

You didn’t want to. God, you didn’t want to. His hand felt like silk against yours, but you felt like you didn’t deserve it. Compared to his, your hand was like felt, worth far less than his. You didn’t want him to hold your hand, not like this. You wanted it to mean something, have some sort of value. Not for comfort. Not because he’s your best friend. Not because he felt bad. But because he loved you. Because he wanted to hold your hand and be proud as he held it. Because he wanted to claim you as is. Because you wanted to be his.

He lets go of your hand and stays silent for a moment. It was as if a part of him died inside as you pulled away your hand. All the thoughts that he was having a few seconds ago were replaced by sadness. His hands tightened into fists from the frustration of being unable to comfort you or take away your sadness. He wanted so desperately to try again, but he knew that there was nothing he could do right now. Slowly, he takes another drag of his cigarette, and you do the same with yours.

“Did you cry whenever he would talk about his girlfriend like that? Did you cry anytime he complimented her?”

You don’t answer for a while. “Yeah. When he told me he loved her, I cried later. After that, I pretended like I didn't care. And for a while, it worked. I would just hook up with guys and I would still talk and hang out with him because he didn't treat me like what everyone else saw me as. He never did. And that's one of the reasons I fell in love with him, I guess, but then sometimes...he would start talking about her and then I just...felt worse. At some point, I just kind of felt numb about it, especially after he told me about the first time they had sex. He talked about it like it was so special...like she was so special...and I just decided then and there I couldn't love him. So, I just pretended and after a while, I thought I didn't love him anymore, but one night, he started talking about how he couldn't lose his girlfriend, how he wanted to make things with her work and I felt that same feeling again, like I was going to be sick. Then, I heard him say what he really thought about me and that was the last time I cried about him.”

“What did he say about you? Did he insult you?” he asks as he feels himself becoming angry, wondering what this jerk could’ve possibly said about you to make you feel this way. But, you don’t answer, you just remain quiet and that made him want to punch this guy even more. “Do you miss him?” he asks, quietly.

“...i miss being oblivious to the fact that I love him.”

He feels his heart drop when you say that. You still love him? He swallows, feeling like he’s choking and as if all of the oxygen has been sucked out of the atmosphere. “So…you do love him. You’re still in love with him?” Once you ignore him again, the answer is clear. “You do still love him…” he mumbles. Anger courses through his veins because you’re in love with someone so fucking awful. How could you give all of yourself to someone who is too blind to see how much you’re worth? How much you mean and value you provide to the meaning of life it’s goddamn self? He watches as you continue smoking. “So, you mean to tell me, after everything he’s done to you, you still love him?”

“He doesn’t know.”

“He doesn’t know you’re in love with him?”

“I told you, I never told him.”

This doesn’t help him feel any less bad for you. Some douche was out and about being happy and in love while you suffer on the sidelines? “Are you ever going to tell him?”

You shake your head as you look down. How could you? Especially since you’re delivering this whole pathetic monologue and he still isn’t taking any goddamn hint. 

“Is it because he’s still with his girlfriend?”

“I don’t want to talk about this.” you say as you finish your cigarette.

He becomes frustrated, “Is he?”

“No.”

“So, they broke up.” You ignore his question once more. He waits a few seconds before speaking up again, “I’m taking that as a ‘yes’ then.”

“Why does it matter? Why do you care?”

“Why do I care?” he asks as if this question has the most obvious answer. He scoffs and takes another drag out of frustration. “Because I’m your best friend, dumbass.”

This only makes you frown as you pinch your thigh again to stop the tears threatening to fall. He frowns as well when he sees this and reaches his hand over again. “Stop.” he says as he grabs your hand. You look down at your hands and you take yours away again. He feels a lump form in his throat when you pull your hand away as a pit of sadness just keeps growing and growing in his stomach. “Why are you doing that? …do you honestly think I don’t care about you?” You just keep staring ahead of you, not looking at him once. He takes another drag and sighs. “Have I ever given you a reason for you to think that I don’t care? Have I hurt you like that guy did?”

His questions make you stay silent for a long time. You wish that you could just disappear. Or that you could go back in time and stop yourself from having these stupid feelings. Or…that you never met him in the first place. Maybe then things would be easier. Better.

“Just…answer me.” he says, pleading, almost. He wants you to understand that he is here for you, he always will be and nothing is going to get in the way of that anymore. He wants this to be clear, so he tries to hold your hand again to show his support, but you take it away once he does.

“Are you pretending or are you actually this clueless?” you ask, becoming frustrated, your voice having a hint of pain in it.

His stomach tightened when you rejected him once more. He doesn’t look at you, suddenly afraid to see your expression. He doesn’t know what to do, how to make you feel better. He stays silent for a moment and continues smoking. “Pretending about what?” he asks. You become increasingly frustrated and pinch your thigh again. He notices and grabs your hand again, “Stop.” he says sternly, but you pull your hand away. 

“Jesus, you’re the guy.”

He feels himself freeze. “What the hell do you mean ‘I’m the guy’?”

“Are you dense?” you raise an eyebrow. “You’re the guy I’ve been talking about this whole damn time!”

“...i’m the guy?” he asks, completely stunned. You let out a huff of frustration and stand up, walking away. He doesn’t hesitate to stand up and go after you. He grabs your arm to stop you. “Wait, you can’t just leave…”

You keep pinching your thigh, a part of you believing it will wake you up from this nightmare as you avoid his gaze. You take your arm away from his grip. “Just forget it.”

“No. You just said I’m the guy, right? The one you’re in love with?” He asks, all of his focus on you. You ignore his question and turn around, walking away. He groans and he moves in front of you, stopping you. “You love me?” But you just avoid his gaze and don’t answer his question. He sighs, “I’m not letting you leave until you tell me.”

“No.”

He frowns. “Look at me.” he whispers. “Please…” he moves closer to you. “Do you love me?”

“Why does it matter?”

“You tell me. Why doesn’t it matter?”

You punch your thigh harshly a few times as you finally look at him. Your breath hitches as tears well in your eyes, despite you trying to ignore them. “Because I’m just a slut.”

He grabs your hand and stops you. He feels panicked, not knowing what to do or say. He doesn’t want you to cry or punish yourself. “Stop it. Stop with that bullshit. You’re not a slut, don’t you dare ever call yourself that.”

“You said it yourself. You agree with everyone else. I know you don't feel the same. I know you'll never talk about me the way you talk about Yujin or see me the way you see her. I know you said you guys broke up, but so what? I know what I am and I know that's all I'll ever be.”

He feels tears prick his own eyes as he listens to you. He shakes his head, “Stop that. Stop saying that I’ll never feel the same. Stop saying that you’re just a slut.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter! It matters to me. You’re not just “some slut”. You’re my best friend.”

You frown as you feel the urge to cry become stronger. You take your hand away and you pinch your thigh again, just wanting the tears to go away. What he said made you feel awful. It’s not what you wanted to hear. You didn’t want to be just that…and he just kept reminding you that that’s all you are. “...do you honestly think that makes me feel better?”

He frowns, “Fine. Maybe it doesn’t make you feel better. But it should. Because it’s the fucking truth.”

“Are you even thinking about what I told you? Are you even thinking about how you're the guy I've been talking about? How every time you talked about Yujin, every time I saw you hold her hand, how you talked about her when you told me about the first time you guys had sex, that I just wanted to curl up and die? You don't get it. You calling me your best friend doesn't make me feel any fucking better. It makes me feel worse than when people call me a slut. But I don't want you to stand here and try to make me feel better, because if you think telling me you care about me because I'm your 'best friend' is going to make me feel better, then you haven't listened to a damn thing I've said.”

He stares at you sympathetically. He stares at you as he realizes just how badly he’s broken your heart. As he realizes he broke your heart. 

“I don't want to be your best friend. I don't want you to tell me I'm your best friend.” You keep pinching your thigh harder, but tears roll down your cheeks anyway. “I wanted it to be me.” you say as you cry even though you keep pinching harder. “I wanted to hold your hand romantically. I wanted you to smile at me the way you did with her. I wanted you to talk about me the way you talked about her.” Your breath hitches as you cry and pinch your thigh harder, your nails digging into your skin. “I wanted to be special to you. I wanted you to tell me you love me. I wanted to be your girlfriend...more than anything in the world.” You cry harder even though you try not to and you dig your nails more into your thigh.

He’s never seen you cry. Not when you broke your arm, not when your pet goldfish died, not when your first boyfriend broke up with you, not even when you get incredibly frustrated. He has never seen you cry. But he hates it. He doesn’t want to see you so sad, so hurt, in so much pain…and he hated it even more because he–the one person you loved more than anything else–was the one who was making you feel this way. He pulls you into him, hugging you tightly, just wanting to take your pain away, just wanting you to…feel loved. But you push him away and wipe your tears, and he notices the imprints from your nails on your thighs. He doesn’t even realize it, but he reaches his hand out and gently touches the marks as he looks at them. He touches the ridges softly and your skin feels so smooth to him, so precious, but you push his hand away. His eyes travel up to meet yours and he sees you’ve stopped crying.

“Why wouldn’t you just have told me how you felt?” he asks, quietly.

“For starters, you had a girlfriend. The other reason: it doesn’t matter.”

“What if I never got with Yujin? What if I was single the whole time?”

“I didn’t realize I loved you until you started dating her…”

“Why her? I’ve dated other girls before, so why her?”

You shrug, “She’s the only one you really seemed to be serious about…the only one you told you loved. Besides…I’m not some sort of homewrecker.”

“I wish you told me.” he whispers. “You were never going to tell me?”

“No.”

“So, you were just hoping I would never find out?”

“Yes.”

“So, you were just going to keep that secret for the rest of your life?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you were just going to live with that pain forever?”

“Are you going to keep asking the same question?”

“I just want to know…” he says as if he’s desperate. “Why…why would you not tell me?”

“Because you were with Yujin! Because you kept telling me how much you loved her! How pretty you thought she was, how happy you were to be with her, how smart and kind and funny and fucking perfect you thought she was! You were happy. You were happy with someone who wasn't me and although that killed me, you were happy. I couldn't do that to you.” you say as your voice breaks.

“So that justified you suffering in silence? Why would you rather see me happy while you were in pain?”

You look at him like the answer was obvious. How does he not get it? You stare at him as you remain quiet, looking at him as if it’s your last time. “Because I love you.” you say, softly.

He feels like you’re looking at him as if he is the most special person to walk on earth. He swallows out of nervousness as he realizes you gave him your heart completely. “You love me so much that you were willing to put yourself through hell just to see me be happy?” He doesn’t feel worthy of that…but you seem to think he is. You love him.

“Wouldn’t you have done the same for Yujin?”

You don’t want to hear him answer this. You don’t want to know, but you feel like he doesn’t understand. You feel like you keep repeating yourself and he’s relishing in it. 

He doesn’t know how to answer. Would he? Hearing how you describe your love for him, he realizes what he felt for Yujin maybe wasn’t love. Maybe it was comfort. Or security. Or the fact that someone wanted to be with him so seriously. Maybe he did love her, but…not the way you love him. This sounds like love. This sounds like what he was supposed to feel. “Yes…” he says, not really sure if that’s true. He wants to believe he loves her. He wants to believe he didn’t waste almost four years on something that ends up meaning absolutely nothing. He has to love her.

“Then you get it.”

“Did you just hope we would break up one day so you and I would get together?”

You sigh, “You still don't get it. I know you don't feel the same way. I know I am not the type of girl you want to be with. I'm not the type of girl any guy wants to be with seriously.”

How could you say that about yourself? Sunghoon doesn’t believe any of that, not for a single fucking second. “That isn’t true. You’re smart, kind, funny, and pretty.”

“Stop.”

“No. It’s true. Everything I just said is true. You think no guy would be able to fall in love with you, but they would. You would make an awesome girlfriend.” he tries to reassure you.

You don’t want any guy.

“You’re not making me feel better.”

“What am I supposed to do, then? Agree with the bullshit you’re saying about yourself? Because that’s not fucking happening.”

“What I want you to say…you can’t.”

“Try me. Tell me.”

You just look at him. He doesn’t get it. He isn’t saying it because he doesn’t feel the same. This realization makes you feel like you’re crumpling. You look at him, defeated. If you have to tell him, you know he would only say it to make you feel better, not because he actually wants to. That. That’s what hurts the most. He would say it because you’re his best friend…but you don’t want to be.

“...are you going to try and get back together with Yujin?”

He pauses. He thinks about it for a second. “Right now…I don’t know. I guess a part of me wants to try still. Does that make me shitty?” He’s not sure why he does. Yujin is the first girl he’s ever told he loved…and he doesn’t say it often. Maybe he’s like you, in a way. He doesn’t really like saying stuff like that. It felt weird when he said it. But he thinks that’s just because he’s never said it before. 

“Why would I?”

“I feel like an asshole for even considering it after everything you’ve told me-”

“She’s the one you love.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” he says, truthfully. He just needs to think. He just needs one damn second to think.

“Then let me make it clear: be with her. From my perspective, she's the one you want. What I told you, how I so stupidly cried in front of you, that doesn't matter. I told you this earlier: you should've chosen her. So just, make up with her tomorrow or whatever and be with her.” you swallow. “...but I can't be your friend.”

He sees you giving up. He hears it. He hates it. His mind is running a thousand miles per minute, he can’t fucking think and it’s pissing him off. “It’s not that easy. I can’t just ‘choose’ between the two of you. I’m confused, I just…I want to be with whoever makes me happy.”

He’s always been happy with you. Sure, you two fought, but you always got over it. You make him happy. So goddamn happy. But he’s scared. He just gave nearly four years of his life to Yujin…what if it’s because he does love her? 

“That’s her.”

“How are you so sure it’s not you?”

“I know.”

He groans in frustration. “So, I have to choose between the two of you?”

You. He chooses you. He’s not sure about the rest of it, but all he knows is that he chooses you. Four years with Yujin doesn’t compare to the years you and him have had together. Nothing else matters. You. Just you.

“Just be with her.”

“What if I want to be with you?”

He hasn’t thought about it. Maybe he chooses you only as a best friend. What if he doesn’t choose you for love? …does he love you? He recalls the teasing from classmates when you guys were younger, but he's never really given any thought to it possibly becoming real. Does he love you the same way he loves Yujin? Does he even love Yujin? He doesn’t know…he just doesn’t know.

“You don’t.”

“And what makes you so sure that I choose Yujin over you? What makes you so sure you’re ‘not enough’ for me?”

“...because you would’ve chosen me first.”

“I can still choose you.”

You sigh, “You're making this complicated. You know she's the one you love, stop feeling bad for me like I'm some lost puppy and just admit it. I don't want your pity and I certainly don't want you to say you ‘choose me’ because you're confusing your pity for feelings. Stop saying I'm this great girl and stop saying any guy would be lucky to have me, that makes me feel worse. So just make up with Yujin and get back with her. Reassure her that you love her because you do and tell her I won't be a problem anymore because you and I aren't anything anymore. Problem solved.”

Is this really what you believed? Is this really what you thought? He just needed some time, he can’t think. He doesn’t know what to think anymore. You were speaking as if it was impossible for him to love you, but what if he does? How is he supposed to know? How did he know with Yujin? He’s questioning whether he even loved her since he can’t even compare how he feels about you with whatever he felt with her. He just knows it’s stronger. But stronger in what way? He sees how you’re looking at him and he realizes the only way for him to succeed in making you feel better–which is what he truly wants–is to just listen to you. He doesn’t want to. But he wants to see you be happy, even if it means he isn’t.

“Are you really sure this is what you want me to do?” he barely asks, the words leaving his mouth without any fervor, as if he never wanted to utter them in the first place. As if he doesn’t want to hear your answer; see you walk out of his life.

You don’t answer him. You just look at him before walking past him. You hold your breath, knowing that once you exhale, you’re going to start sobbing. You felt so lonely. So lonely. You’ve always had him…and then you lost him to Yujin…and now, you’ve lost him for good.

He doesn’t turn around to look at you as you walk away, because he knows if he does, he will run after you and that clearly isn’t what you want. You want to let him go, at least that’s how he understands it. He doesn’t want that. He wants you. He knows that much, he knows he needs you. He’s not sure how things will look without you now. He never thought it would be like this, but here he is. …why does this feel so much worse than when Yujin walked away from him? Why does this hurt more than his actual breakup? The reason is one he doesn’t want to admit. He realizes the answer and he refuses to let it grow to fruition. He doesn’t know why it took him until now to figure it out, but he’ll realize that later. He wanted time…now, he’s got it.

-

Deja vu. That’s what this all feels like. Here Sunghoon was, again, at another stupid frat party around midnight. Here he was, again, with Yujin. He took your advice, he decided to apologize and get back together with her, and these past few months without you have felt like torture. Even using torture to describe it seems too dull. He has thought about nothing but you. He’s heard around campus about people you’ve hooked up with, but he doesn’t feed into it. As he stands here with Yujin at this godforsaken party, all he can feel is regret. He leans against a wall as Yujin talks with her friends and he practically chugs his drink. He doesn’t even want to leave the party because he doesn't think it's worth to waste any of his wants on anything but you. You make up all of his desires and he wants nothing more than for you to be back into his life. He finishes the rest of his drink and to his surprise, he does see you. He stands up straighter as he looks at you, but feels like his insides are on fire when he realizes you’re making out with Sungchan. On the couch. On the couch, you are making out with Sungchan. On the couch, Sungchan is running his hands along your hips and waist. On the couch, you let him. 

You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss Sunghoon. A part of you went missing the night you walked away from him. You’ve seen him around campus with Yujin and eventually, it finally felt like you were over it all. Over him. You wouldn’t say you’ve been getting around quite frequently, but you won’t lie when you say that you did get with some guys to help get over him. It didn’t work. But you won’t admit to that. To you, at least, you’re over it. Over him. Sungchan helped a bit with some of the lonely nights, but you two aren’t anything serious. He’s not into that sort of thing and, hey, neither are you…so this is fine. He doesn’t lie to you about how he feels or what he wants and for that, you’re grateful. Although, you do have to admit, making out with him feels boring. Being with him feels boring. It’s not fun like it used to be…and even then, you aren’t completely sure it was even fun in the first place. Whatever, you’ll get into it at some point.

Sunghoon watches, now it really feels like deja vu. Is he dreaming? Or…is this him getting a second chance? Is this when he can finally pull you away from Sungchan and be there for you? Finally tell you how he feels? How he felt the whole time…? Suddenly, his spirits are slightly lifted, that is, until Yujin crosses her arms and scoffs before shoving him. Sunghoon is surprised and turns his attention towards her. Some people look at them, but Yujin doesn’t care, she just looks at Sunghoon, furious.

“Do you even want me to be your girlfriend?”

Maybe honesty wouldn’t be best right now. “I do…”

“Then stop looking at her.”

“Let’s…not make a scene.” he says, trying to calm her down.

“Just be honest for once: do you love me or her?”

He doesn’t know how to answer. He knows his answer, he’s had months to figure it out. But…you made yourself clear. You were done with each other. He sighs. “Can I get a moment to figure it out?” he asks, honestly a bit surprised he didn’t just cave and reassure her.

Yujin frowns and scoffs. “Let me ask you this, then. Do you wish that you were making out with her?”

He looks back at you and Sungchan, seeing him whisper something to you and you giggling before he kisses you again. He looks back at Yujin. “Yeah.” he swallows, gathering all of his courage. “But, that sounds…awful. It’s like you want me to admit I regret getting back together with you or something-”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” he answers without hesitation. He feels all of his muscles tense up. Did he really just say that? Well…it’s the truth, but he never thought he would say it. He feels…better.

Yujin quickly squashes that by slapping him, “We’re done.” she says before storming out, her friends following. Sure, the slap hurt, but as Sunghoon looks back at you and Sungchan…the pain from the slap seems so insignificant in comparison.

You decide to tell Sungchan you’re getting a drink, so you get up from the couch and go into the kitchen. You pour yourself a drink and once you do, you walk to the backyard and take a seat on the patio. 

Sunghoon figures you want to be alone…but finds himself following you outside anyway. He walks over to you cautiously. You and him have spoken consistently for practically your whole lives, but he finds himself struggling to even say a simple sentence or ask a question. The time you’ve spent apart was multiple days…too many fucking days in his opinion. He can’t stand it. “Can I sit here?” he asks, referencing the spot beside you. You shrug as you take a sip of your drink. He feels relieved, baby steps, right? He takes a seat beside you and thinks for a moment on how to keep the conversation going. “So…what were you telling Sungchan?” …has he lost the ability to socialize or something because why was this the question he asks? He bites his bottom lip a bit in frustration at himself.

“Spying on me?” you tease as you extend your cup, offering him some.

Sunghoon chuckles softly and shakes his head. Hearing your voice for the first time in months makes him remember just how much he’s missed you. He feels like everything in his life is restored and he smiles a bit. “You guys were all over each other on the couch, is it really weird for me to wonder?”

You shrug, “I mean, just typical flirting and dirty talk or whatever. Why?”

He feels his breath catch in his throat. “Dirty talk”?...what the fuck? “Um…no reason…I guess I was just…curious or something.” he mumbles.

“Are you here with Yujin?” you ask as you take another sip of your drink.

He shakes his head. “Well, not anymore. She broke up with me so…I’m alone now.” he realizes how that might’ve come off. “Alone here now…not…me alone altogether…or anything.” he cringes and looks away from you, feeling completely stupid. 

“What? Why did she break up with you?”

“She…saw me…looking at you and Sungchan…so she broke up with me.” he says, not really wanting to say the other stuff from the argument. You laugh in response and he frowns. “Don’t laugh.”

You nudge his shoulder, “It’s okay. If she broke up with you for that dumb of a reason, her loss.” You say as you take another sip.

He smiles slightly. It feels like old times. It feels like he has you back. It feels like you want him back. “Yeah, you’re probably right. It’s probably best I don’t have her constantly being suspicious about me and you.”

“Especially since we haven’t talked in months.”

He feels caught off guard by your blunt statement. Sure, it’s true…but it sounds like you didn’t miss him. “Yeah…we haven’t talked in a while.” You just take another sip of your drink and he looks back at you. “I’ve missed you.” He waited for you to say something back, but you didn’t. “I’ve um…missed talking to you like before. Like, before…everything got complicated and stuff-”

“I know what you meant.”

He nods his head a bit, everything now feeling awkward. “So…what have you been up to? Anything interesting happen?”

“Nope.”

“Really? Nothing? Nothing at all?”

“Yup” you say as you take another drink.

“So…for the past few months, you’ve done absolutely nothing interesting?” he asks, his tone being more lighthearted and joking to try and diffuse the tension.

“No offense, but I’m not really looking to ‘catch up’ with you.”

Sunghoon feels his heart stop for a moment, but he tries to play it off. “Okay, ouch.” he laughs nervously, “So you’re not even remotely interested in talking with me?”

You shrug, “I dunno. These past few months without you, I’ve kinda just been doing my own thing, I guess.”

Your response left him feeling worthless. Like, he didn’t even mean a single thing to you before. Which, he knows isn’t true…but you sound like you mean it. “So, you haven’t missed me at all? Not even talking to me?”

“At first, yeah. But don’t worry, I’m not in love with you anymore.”

“...you’re not…in love with me anymore…?” he asks as he feels his blood run cold. You just shake your head and continue drinking from your cup. His heart sinks immediately. He feels small; insignificant. His mind jumps back to Sungchan and he frowns. “Are you in love with him now?”

“Him?”

“Sungchan.”

“Eh,” you shrug, “we’re not dating, just casual, I guess.”

“So, you’re not exclusive with him?”

“No.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah.”

He feels himself growing jealous and frustrated. How could you give yourself to someone who doesn’t love you? Sunghoon feels upset, realizing he unintentionally did the same thing, but still, not to this extent. He knows you. He knows you don’t want this…hopefully. But he sure as hell knows that you don’t deserve this. 

“That’s ridiculous. How can you be committed to this?”

“I’m not committed.”

He groans, “That’s…not what I meant. What do you two even get out of this?”

You shrug, “Why do you care? I get you’re a relationship guy even though you’ve only been serious with one girl, but don’t shit on me and what I choose to do.”

The way you spoke got under his skin. “I care because I happen to care about the people around me. In case you haven’t noticed, I care about you.” But you just roll your eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes. I’m being serious. Why do you feel like this isn’t worth talking about?”

“Because we aren’t friends. We aren’t anything. I don’t need your input.”

It feels like you’ve slapped him in the face, and this time, it fucking stings. “What do you mean we aren’t friends? We grew up together, how the hell are we not friends?”

“Are you stupid?”

“Am I stupid?” he asks, offended and frustrated. He was starting to lose his patience. “No. I’m not. I still consider you as my friend. We grew up together, went to the same schools, hung out every damn day, how is none of that relevant?”

“We haven’t spoken in months.”

“So what?” he asks, feeling as though your friendship suddenly means less than nothing to you, somehow.

“I told you that night that I wasn’t going to be your friend anymore.”

He freezes. He knows. He also knows you don’t just say shit without it meaning anything. He knows you aren’t friends anymore, but he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want you to be nothing to each other. He thought that if, maybe, he admitted he still sees you as his friend, you would admit the same. But you don’t. And now he feels that same empty feeling. “So…you’re just fine with letting us go without a second thought?”

You look at him, “Do you not remember anything from that night? Of course if fucking hurt; I was in love with you.”

“So it does matter.”

You sigh, “It doesn’t matter anymore; that was a long time ago.” you say as you take another sip.

He looks at you for a moment, feeling like his heart has become a punching bag and you were just taking any hit you could. Was this really the same person he grew up with? That he… “How could it not matter anymore? We used to mean the world to each other…how can that just…be…over?”

You look at him, “Because I had to get over you.”

“It’s not that easy. I spent everyday thinking about you. Everyday.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you!” He thought your question was so redundant, he honestly didn’t even realize what he said at first. 

“But…” you sit there, stunned. He finally said what you wanted him to say for so long, even if it was with a frustrated tone, still…it counted. “What about Yujin?”

“She…she doesn’t matter. You do. She always suspected I was in love with you-”

“Well, this is news to me.”

He deadpans. “Are you being fucking serious? I get I never said it before, but…” he pauses; he sees what you mean. “Okay…but…you never once thought it was possible that I love you?”

“No. Because that night when I told you that I was in love with you, you just kept saying I was your best friend. You’re so full of it.”

“I’m not full of it! I just…for fucks sake, I just didn’t know. I thought…I don’t know, I thought maybe for you it was just passing, or something, I don’t know what I thought I just…I don’t know.”

“Right. So as I stood there, crying my eyes out as I told you how much I loved you, you thought it was one sided.” you say as you roll your eyes.

“I…” he feels like he did that night, like he can’t think. “I just didn’t know, maybe something was holding me back, I don’t know.”

“I know why.”

He looks at you, relieved, thankful that you understand what he means. “You do?”

“Of course you didn’t want to admit to that. How embarrassing for you to have a crush on one of the school’s biggest sluts.”

He frowns. “That’s not what I mean. You honestly think it’s embarrassing for me to like you?”

“Exactly. And you knew that. I don’t blame you, no guy wants their girlfriend to be a whore.” You take another sip of your drink and you look at him. “Look, I’m not mad. I got over it and I honestly don’t care anymore. I know what I am and I know that until we graduate, that’s all I’ll probably be. But it doesn’t matter. Yujin breaking up with you not too long ago was dumb, you’re a really great guy, but you’ll find someone else.” You take another sip,  “I should probably head back in and find Sungchan.”

He felt anger wash over him. Not because you don’t believe him about being in love with you. Not because you were going to Sungchan. But because of the fact that you believe the things you say about yourself. You’re so special, so goddamn special, and Sunghoon is so scared as he realizes he may be too late.

“And what if I don’t want to find someone else? What if I don’t want anyone else but you?”

You look at him for a moment. “Do you remember how you would talk about Yujin with me? You may not remember everything you said, but I remember it all and I remember how you looked as you said it. You talked about her like she was the most special and most beautiful girl in the world. You had this smile that you only had with her…” you pause for a moment, “You may say you have feelings for me…but they're not like the ones you had for her, and that’s okay. I don’t want you to feel bad because you deserve to be happy, but you also deserve to find another girl that makes you talk and feel that same way…and I know that’s not me.”

You’re so wrong. You’re so fucking wrong and it was pissing him off. He wishes he just figured this out earlier. He wishes that he asked you out instead. He wishes that he told you he loves you that night. He wishes he kissed you. He wishes he held you and didn’t let go. He swallows, “You remember everything I said?” he asks, slightly surprised to hear that. Honestly, he doesn’t even remember what he said. Not anymore.

“Of course I do…I wanted nothing more than for it to be me.” you say quietly as you take a sip and sigh. “But like I said, water under the bridge.”

He feels tears begin to form. “Why did we have to grow apart? Why didn’t you just talk to me? Just one damn word. Something. I didn’t want to lose you.”

“I can’t be your friend.”

“Why not?”

You look at him for a long moment, just staying quiet. “...I’m only going to say this once…but if I stayed your friend, I would just keep hurting myself…I would still love you.”

He stays quiet for a while. Even the loud music and chatter from the people inside seemed to drown out as he looked at you; you’re all that matters; you’re all that deserves his attention. “...did it hurt when we would talk everyday?”

You sigh softly and shake your head. “Not until you started dating Yujin. Before that, everything was fine. But once she happened…it hurt like hell.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I told you. I couldn’t do that to you, you were happy.”

“I would have wanted to know. I would have wanted to be there for you…”

You laugh a little, “No, that’s weird.” You shake your head and still laugh a little, “It’s fine, I’m over it.” 

“It’s not weird. It’s not okay for you to act like everything is fine.” he says, softly.

“Why are you trying to rehash this? There’s no point. Or do you like to hear about how I used to love you and it gives you some sort of ego boost or something?” you ask, not wanting to dive back into this…not again. He shakes his head, but he sighs. What is the point? You aren’t believing him and you’ve said it yourself…you’re over him. You stand up and his eyes follow you, “I’m gonna go find Sungchan. Later.” you say, not really meaning the ‘later’ part, but nonetheless, you walk away and all he can do is watch you leave…again.

He heads back into the party, wanting to find solace in getting batshit drunk or something, but he continues to torture himself by watching you dance with Sungchan. His eyes only focus on you, sure, he’s jealous and pissed off that you’re with Sungchan, but he only sees you. Sees how you move and he finds himself wishing you were dancing with him. 

Sungchan pulls you closer, just whispering sweet nothings in your ear and you feel his hands grab your ass. You giggle a little and try to enjoy your time with him as he starts kissing your neck. You laugh softly as you dance with him and, unfortunately for Sunghoon, he’s bearing witness to it all. His hand practically crushes his red solo cup as fury ignites within him when he watches what Sungchan is doing. That should be him. Not that he would be so…vulgar with his actions, but it should still be him instead. He sees Sungchan whisper something to you as he takes your hand and starts taking you upstairs. 

As he watched the two of you making your way upstairs, his whole body shook and trembled in rage. Every step that the two of you took together enraged him. He hated the way you casually held his hand and how he casually walked you up the stairs. He hated how he acted as if he had every right to touch you like that. He hated the fact that you were both so comfortable with one another at this point. He hated the fact that he was leading you away to his room…

You were so focused on following Sungchan, you were surprised to feel a tug on your other hand once you reached the top of the stairs. Both Sungchan and you stop and you turn to see Sunghoon holding your other hand. 

Sunghoon felt at ease, like he was grounded when he felt your hand in his. This made him more confident as he tugged you towards him, wanting you away from Sungchan. This pisses Sungchan off and he scoffs as he looks at Sunghoon. 

“The hell?” Sungchan says, not in the mood for any games. He tugs the hand he was holding, pulling you back towards him, but you find yourself only focused on Sunghoon as your heart starts to beat faster.

Sunghoon pulls you back towards him, his grip on your hand tightening. “Back off.” he says as he glares at Sungchan. 

“You back off.” Sungchan says as he tugs you back towards him.

Sunghoon realized that you were just being tugged around, so he stopped, but he kept holding your hand. “Let go of her.”

“You let go of her.” He looks at you, “Who the hell is this guy?” Sungchan asks, annoyed.

“Someone who actually loves her instead of using her.”

You look at Sunghoon, surprised to hear him say that. Sure, he said he loved you earlier…but this time when he said it, he said it like it was what he meant to say; what he wanted to say.

Sungchan laughs. “You love her?”

Sunghoon glares at him. “Yes. I love her. Now back off.”

Sungchan scoffs and puts his arm around you. “Tell you what, bud, you can have her when I’m done.” Sungchan winks as he pulls you towards him.

Sunghoon feels enraged. This asshole was acting so entitled, acting like he won this argument when Sunghoon knew damn well he wasn’t giving up. The fact that he had the nerve to call him “bud” too made Sunghoon want to throw him down the flight of fucking stairs. How he treated you was disgusting, talking about you like that in front of you. Sunghoon tugged you towards him one last time and Sungchan rolled his eyes. 

“Whatever.” Sungchan looks at you, “You know where my room is.” he says as he winks at you before walking away.

Sunghoon grimaces as Sungchan leaves, but feels better once he’s gone. The whole time, you were just looking at Sunghoon and you feel as though your heart is beating out of your chest as he holds your hand. After what he said. After all of this. He meets your gaze and he looks at you in a much more gentle manner. 

“You deserve so much more…” he whispers, his breath lightly brushing along your face since you’re so close together. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry-”

“Stop.”

“No.” he says as he lets go of your hand and uses it instead to gently cup your face. “I wasn’t lying. You are all I’ve thought about for these past few months and you’re all I can ever think about. I’ve missed you every single damn second of the day and I’m sorry I was too scared to say it all before. I love you. And all this time, I’ve just thought about what you mean to me and the answer is everything; you mean everything to me. ...that seems like such a vague thing to say now that I say it out loud.” he chuckles softly, “But everything means nothing if you’re not with me. Eating, sleeping, breathing, blinking, are all pointless if I can’t spend one goddamn second with you. I’m not embarrassed of you and I only realized that night when you left that I’ve always been in love with you. Always. What I felt with Yujin is all meaningless when I compare it to how I feel about you. I love you. It was never her. Not for even a millisecond. You asked me if I would put myself through pain just to see her happy and I told you yes. I lied. I thought that was what I would do, but I realized I actually did that with you. I let you walk away because that’s what you wanted. I didn’t want that, god-” he takes a sharp inhale as he rests his forehead on yours, “It’s always been you…and I’m so sorry I never said it until now. I’m so sorry I put you through all of that shit. I’m so sorry, but please…” he whispers as he looks into your eyes, all of his focus only on you. “I love you.”

You feel your breath hitch slightly and you feel so tempted just to kiss him, but you hold yourself back. You smile a little bit and pull away slightly, feeling relieved. “...I need to smoke. You want one?” you ask as you take his hand, going into an empty bedroom. 

He closes the door behind the two of you as you walk over and sit on the bed, opening the window beside it. He sits beside you as you take out your pack and he smiles a bit. “Yeah, I do.” he says as you hand him one. He watches as you light yours and then you light his for him. You both sit silently for a moment as you smoke, it being a comfortable silence until he speaks. “Thank you.” he says, mainly for lighting his cigarette, but he does want it to apply to you not leaving him again.

“I forgive you.” you say after a moment.

“You do?” he asks as he takes a drag and looks at you.

“Yeah.” you say as you take another drag yourself. “But you’ve got to get better at saying how you feel.” you tease.

He scoffs playfully and nudges your arm. “Says you.” he mumbles as he continues to smoke.

You laugh softly and shrug. “We’ll work on it.” you say before exhaling your smoke and he nods his head a bit as you both look out of the window for a moment. You glance at him and inhale from your cigarette before gently pulling him towards you. He turns his head to look at you and you kiss him gently, shotgunning the smoke slowly into his mouth.

His eyes widen a bit as his heart beats rapidly. He closes his eyes as he inhales, letting the smoke slowly fill his lungs while he leans forward to kiss you back, indulging in the feeling of your lips on his even if it wasn’t an actual kiss. After blowing out the smoke, you break the kiss and watch as he exhales the smoke. He does it slowly, feeling as though his lips are tingling, begging to meet yours again. He smirks a bit after he exhales all of the smoke and looks at you. “Damn…that was good.” he whispers as he blushes a bit.

You grin, taking another drag, “I’ve missed you.”

He takes a drag as well as smiles softly. “I’ve missed you, too.” It goes quiet, but this time, a comfortable silence as you two smoke. He blows some smoke out of the window and looks back at you. “Do you think…we could give this another shot?”

You follow suit and blow some smoke out of the window before looking at him. “Our friendship or…something more this time?”

“Something more. Both, hopefully.” he smirks a bit as he says this, taking another drag.

You smirk a little back and chuckle softly, “I really want that.”

“So do I.” he whispers as his eyes lock onto yours. He smiles softly, “We’re going to be official.”

He reaches for your hand and carefully interlaces his fingers with yours. You take another drag as you smile shyly. “Good…” you say, softly.

Your fingers seem to fit with his perfectly; everything about you is perfect and it was things like this that make him realize it all the more. You hold hands as you smoke silently, both feeling a fluttering excitement in your stomachs as your relationship dynamic shifts to one that you both have been longing for before you even realized it yourselves. He glances at you as he exhales some smoke.

“Good? Wow…I was expecting some more passion out of that.” he teases, gently squeezing your hand.

You laugh before finishing your cigarette and putting it out. You turn your body a bit to face him, “What about…fucking incredible?”

He laughs loudly at your new choice of phrasing. He calms down after a moment, “That’s more like it.” he says with a grin before smoking his cigarette again. His gaze lingers on you as he watches you smile at his reaction. Stunning. He leans in, letting go of your hand, placing his left hand beside you on the bed as his lips meet yours, kissing you. 

You don’t waste a single second, kissing him back immediately as your hand makes its way to the back of his head, your fingers threading with his hair as you push yourself slightly forward, pressing your lips against his more. He inhales sharply as he moves his left arm around your waist, pulling you closer, desperately. He puts out his cigarette and discards it, using his other arm to wrap around you as well as he pulls you onto his lap. You part your legs, straddling his lap as you grin a bit into the kiss, both of your hands using their fingers to gently tug on the ends of his soft hair. You feel yourself fill with excitement, the fact that this is really happening after every inch of your body has desired this exact moment makes you feel restless. 

Sunghoon runs his hands up and down your thighs, squeezing them gently, before moving them up to your hips, and then your waist. His hands suddenly felt so big against your skin, his fingers sending shivers throughout your whole body anywhere they touch. He opens his mouth slightly more and you take this as a sign to slip your tongue into it. He grins, this time, and he pulls you closer to him by gripping your waist; your bodies now pressed tightly against each other. He moves his hands to cup your face and you move yours to rest against his chest, your fingers tightly gripping his shirt in an attempt to somehow kiss him deeper. His tongue glides across yours as he kisses you with increasing desperation. The need for you grows every second that passes, he has to kiss every inch of you, he has to make you his, he has to make you feel loved; the only thoughts devouring his mind at this very moment consisted of nothing but you and his need to ensure you only ever want him. 

The kiss becomes sloppy, both of your lips becoming covered in one another, and you feel yourself craving more. So much more. You bite his bottom lip a little, testing to see if this will make him decide to take initiative, resulting in him gasping softly and releasing a low moan. He liked it. He liked it a lot. He moves his hands back to your waist, pushing you down against his lap and his jaw loosens a bit as he loses his breath, feeling you finally press against his erection. You moan softly, enjoying the feeling of some sort of contact where you desperately needed it the most and it felt so good knowing he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to have you. 

One of his hands grips your thigh and his other arm goes back to wrapping around your waist as he picks you up a bit and lays you back against the bed, not once breaking the kiss; at this point, kissing you has become his oxygen supply. Feeling your hands on him is the only thing keeping him alive. His lips part from yours only to kiss along your jaw, just below your ear, and down to your neck. You gasp softly and your eyelids flutter closed as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips kissing your skin. He takes one of his hands and uses it to move some of your hair out of the way, placing it on the back of your head, pulling your hair softly to move your head back so he has more room to work with on your neck. You let out a soft moan, feeling him leave open mouthed kisses on every single inch of your skin, him making sure he doesn’t miss a single spot. 

He opens his eyes a bit and looks at you, to see how he’s making you feel. He watches as your lips part slightly as you take in small gasps of air, as if he leaves you utterly breathless; you’ve never looked more beautiful. He watches to see what spot of your neck when he kisses it that you seem to like the most. Once he gets to a certain spot and watches you bite your bottom lip a bit, he smirks slightly against your skin and sucks gently on the area. His tongue laps the spot a bit as he sucks and nibbles on it; this was his spot now. You moan softly and you feel your breath slightly catch in your throat as he leaves a hickey. He leaves a few soft pecks on the spot a little after he’s left his mark and he smiles a bit to himself. 

You feel the warmth of his body pull away from yours and your eyes open as you look at him. The moon shined a bit through the window, the light falling beautifully on him as he looked at you with a slightly flushed face. He looked back at you, seeing you laying on this bed, all for him, he felt like he was going crazy. He sits on his knees between your legs as his hands run along your thighs; he just keeps looking at you, admiring all of you. You lay there, looking at him, feeling your body become hot as he looks at you through hooded eyes, as if you leave him in a trance. Your breathing picks up in speed as he runs his hands painfully slow along your thighs and as much as you want to pull him back towards you, you feel as though you’re frozen. 

He takes a slow, deep breath, as his left hand travels up to gently take your right hand. He holds it up softly, separating your fingers with his as he loosely holds your hand, his gaze now focusing on your hands. He raises your hand up and leans in, raising it to his mouth. He softly plants his lips on your fingertips, kissing them softly, up to your knuckles, trailing his lips to the back of your hand, then gently turning it to kiss along the palm of your hand. He closes his eyes as he kisses down your arm--slowly--and gently lays your arm back at your side as he kisses up to your shoulder. His hands move to the hem of your short dress, slowly sliding it up, you raising your hips to help him, and he stops, leaving it bunched around your waist as he goes back to kissing along your shoulder. He gently pushes the strap of your dress down your shoulder as he focuses on kissing your body, moving along your collarbone. He breathes deeply, pushing the other strap out of the way as he leaves open mouthed kisses on your left shoulder, down your arm, his hands gently holding it up as he kisses up to your wrist. You watch him, feeling as if your body is constantly shivering, still dressed (albeit, your dress is pushed up), yet feeling completely exposed. His hand envelopes over your left hand as he kisses your palm like he cherishes your entire being, the way he looks is as if he’s wanted to do this his whole life. 

He kisses your fingers, knuckles, and fingertips, opening his eyes slowly as he lets go of your arm gently. He moves his hands back to your waist, pulling your dress up more and you sit up, realizing your body is shaking, and he kisses your forehead before pulling your dress off carefully, like he’s afraid if he does it too fast, you’ll break. He lets the dress fall to the ground, the fabric hitting the hard wood floor just as softly as he lets it go. It’s as if the room is silent, no muffled music from downstairs, no rolling of tires from the occasional cars passing on the streets, no soft wind hitting the curtains, nothing except the quiet breaths escaping from his and your lips. He feels his erection become even more painfully hard as he looks at you, and he swallows, honestly trying not to let out a moan just at the sight of you. His breath stifles a little as he places his hand on the small of your back, steadying you as he leans back in, kissing the top of your chest. He feels himself growing more desperate, desperate to feel every inch of your skin on his lips, on his fingertips. 

He breathes in sharply as he presses his face more into your chest, his lips sloppily kissing along your chest as his need for you grows. His tongue trails along your skin and he shudders, his hands becoming shaky as he holds your waist, all his focus practically on making out with your chest. A low moan elicits from him and from the way he was kissing your chest with such desperation made you moan softly in response, one of your bra straps falling a little off your shoulder from his movements. It’s as if he senses it and just decides to unclasp your bra, still trying to let it slide off of you slowly and hold himself back, but once he sees you take it off, your bare chest exposed, he feels himself get so close to cumming in his pants. He gently lays you back on the bed, wasting no time, however, to wrap his lips around one of your nipples. Your breath hitches and you moan as he releases his desperation. Kissing, sucking, and fondling your breasts, small whimpers coming from him as he feels elated to finally be doing this. Spit covers your chest almost instantly as he licks and sucks, kneading your breasts, moaning as the soft flesh squeezes and molds beneath his hands. And it’s only until he feels his breathing becoming quick, his dick aching in his pants, is when he stops. He pulls away slightly, his hair slightly covering his eyes as he stares at them, his trembling fingers squeezing and spreading his spit along them, his thumbs pressing and circling your nipples, and you feel as if ripples just went throughout your entire body.

You gently push his hair away from his face and he goes back to kissing along your stomach, down to your panties. You can feel momentarily the thin layer of sweat covering his forehead when you push his hair away, running your fingers through his locks and he whines softly against your skin, his hands gripping your sides and finally moving to the edge of your panties. You wait in anticipation, expecting him to take them off, so you raise your hips slightly, but he pulls away. You pout–only slightly–as you look at him with a confused expression. He smiles sweetly, as if he’s not the one that caused you to quite literally soak through your panties. He’s noticed, god, he’s noticed, but it takes everything in him not to behave like some animal. So, with that, he moves his hands down to your feet, slowly taking off your shoes for you before setting them on the ground. He moves back a little, leaning down to kiss along your leg, stopping at your knee, before moving to do the same thing to the other leg, but this time, he kisses up your thigh, leaving open mouthed kisses on the inner part of your thigh, gently nipping at your skin, and up to your hip. He gazes at you through his eyelashes as he moves to kiss along the other thigh, closing his eyes as he moans deeply against your skin, his tongue running along your skin.

He takes in a shaky, deep breath, and you feel your whole body become stiff once you feel his warm breath scatter so deliciously on your core. He gently places his hand over your sopping panties and your breath hitches, your whole body feeling grateful for some sort of contact. His brows furrowed as he slowly rubs his middle finger along your clothed slit, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels even more of your wetness seep through the fabric as he pushes into it. His mind feels hazy; he has to taste you. He takes his hand away, licking his middle finger and he feels as if his whole body exploded. He moans quietly to himself, before gripping your thighs and sticking his tongue out, licking a slow, long stripe between your clothed folds to your clit. Your eyes roll back as you gasp and moan. His fingers dig into the skin of your thighs as he feels himself lose all sense of sanity. He wanted nothing more than to take his time, but fuck, he can’t do it anymore. 

His lips instantly latch around your clothed clit, sucking and lapping his tongue as he starts to subconsciously rut his hips against the mattress. His saliva soaks your panties entirely as he presses his tongue more firmly, causing you to moan louder, gasping, as your hand makes its way to his hair, your fingers tangling in it. He moans and pulls away only a little before diving back in, pushing your panties to the side with his face as he makes out between your folds. His jaw is working overtime, his tongue lapping and picking up as much of you as you can give, His nose bumps against your clit as he loses himself in your taste, eating you out like a madman. He groans and moans into you, his hip movements stuttering as he licks all the way back up to your clit, moving his right hand off of your thigh before pushing his middle and ring finger into you, making sure to rub them between your folds before he does. He sucks and licks your clit, moaning and whimpering as he pushes his fingers in and out of you, not stopping until his knuckles prevent him. 

You moan his name, gripping his hair, pushing his face against your clit more as your legs shake and you cum, moaning his name. He whimpers and the way you taste sends him over the edge as he feels himself cum in his pants, his jaw falling slack a bit, and he pulls his fingers out, desperate to lick them clean. You let go of his hair, trying to catch your breath and he sits up, his face slick and covered in you, and he tugs your panties off. You look at him, watching as he undresses himself and you feel your body become light as he reveals more and more of himself to you. His bare chest, his abs, god, his biceps, you were about ready to start touching yourself at the sight, desperate for him, but you managed to stay put. 

He feels his ego boost a little bit, watching how you look at him, examining his body as if he is some work of art. He’s going to give you everything he knows you deserve and that thought alone makes him smirk. You notice as he takes off his underwear the wet patch from his prior release, making you grin a bit. He finally lets his cock out, it still being painfully hard despite him having cummed already, and you gaze at it. You feel yourself clench around nothing, wanting him so desperately to fill you up and he sees it. He smiles innocently, as if you both aren’t completely naked and horny before he grabs a cigarette and lights it. He takes a drag as he spreads the precum spilling from his tip all along his length and you watch his every movement, honestly feeling your mouth water at the sight. You sit up and he motions his head to the window as the cigarette sits between his lips. 

You turn and face the window, propping your forearms against the windowsill as you look outside, the cool breeze honestly feeling nice against your flushed, hot skin. You feel his presence shift behind you as he takes another drag. He sighs softly, looking at yourself propped like this, he places his free hand on your hip, lining himself up with you. He moves that hand and gently brushes your hair softly to the side, exposing your back entirely, and you turn your head a bit to look back at him. He exhales some smoke and meets your gaze, gently brushing his fingers along your cheek. 

“Relax…” he says before leaning to whisper in your ear, “and don’t be afraid to let the neighborhood know my name.” he says before kissing your cheek. 

You feel your body shudder at his words and he holds the cigarette between his lips as he uses one hand to hold your hip, the other gripping his cock before he slides it up and down, teasingly, between your folds. You gasp softly and he smirks, pushing his tip against your clit and he hisses a little, more precum leaking from his tip. He guides his cock into you, needing to quickly grab his cigarette from his mouth due to his jaw falling slack as he bottoms out into you. Your fingers grip the edge of the windowsill, your jaw dropping as you feel him finally giving you what you want. You moan and become breathless. He takes another drag from his cigarette before moving his hand from your hip to your shoulder as he pulls his hips away and then thrusts himself back into you entirely.

He filled you up perfectly, and he was damn ready to cum just from the way it felt like you perfectly fit around him. So warm and so fucking wet. He thrusts in and out of you a few times, groaning as you moan, sounds of you coating his cock more and more each time he goes in and out of you. He takes a shaky inhale from his cigarette, his eyes rolling back a bit as he thrusts a bit faster, before taking the cigarette out of his mouth, gripping the back of your head, a handful of your hair between his fingers, as he pulls you up and turns your head towards him. You moan and whine looking at him as he kisses you, shotgunning you this time as he keeps a steady pace of thrusting into you. You felt like you were going to choke, but you inhale what he exhales and as he pulls away, you turn back and lean your forearms against the windowsill as you blow out the smoke, gasping afterwards and moaning his name.

“Good girl,” he groans and puts the cigarette out, putting both of his hands on your hips, thrusting faster. “Such a good girl.” 

You moan at his praise and breathe quickly as all you can do is let out strings of long moans as you feel his cock press into you over and over, him somehow hitting every area that makes your knees weak and mind hazy. His fingers dig into your skin as his hips rapidly pound and slap against your ass, the sound of skin slapping becoming louder and louder. You moan his name loudly, and as a reward, he pushes further, you feeling his tip brush against your cervix and you gasp, moaning his name lewdly. He grunts, the way you just moaned his name almost made him cum automatically. 

“Louder, sweetheart, come on.”

You gasp for air as he fucks you so goddamn good, and you try to arch your lower back a bit so he can go deeper. You moan his name as many times as he wants, whatever it takes for him to rut in and out of you faster, to which he obliged. His breathing becomes heavy and your legs shake as you throw your head back a bit, your jaw dropping as you let out a long moan, cum spreading all over his cock. He grunts and whimpers, wrapping his arms around your waist as his brows knit together, him leaning down and kissing your shoulder as he pumps you full of cum, a low moan coming from him and onto your shoulder. He moans your name softly as he lets out a few more shallow thrusts, making sure he gives you every last drop. You feel yourself shiver as the warm liquid pushes into you and you whine a little. 

After a moment of him holding you close and staying inside of you, he kisses your shoulder softly again before pulling out and pulling away. He lays back onto the bed and you shudder as you feel his and your cum spilling out of you and trailing slowly down your inner thigh. He opens his arms a bit and you go to him, letting out a sigh as you rest your head on his chest and feeling content when his arms wrap around you. His hand slowly moves up and down your back before he kisses the top of your head. It’s silent for a while as you both lay there.

“So…we’re a thing now?” you ask, partly joking, but part of you was seriously asking.

He looks down at you and scoffs playfully. “After all of this, you still don’t get it?” he chuckles softly. “I want nobody but you.”

[suugarbabe]

Unexpected | m.r x reader

prompt: Hii! How are you? This is my first time sending an ask and I just wanted to say that I love your writings! May I ask for a enemies to lovers with Mattheo Riddle? The reader is from the golden trio and they get into an argument with a lot of chemistry and tension. Thank you and I'm sorry for my bad english.

maybe enemies to lovers, like they hate each other and then realize that they are soulmates and then have to figure out what to do. some angst but ends i fluff please 

word count: ~3.8k

warnings: slight angst feeling, fluff, e2l, soulmate trope, some heavy petting

an: so there's no argument like the prompt asks (sorry) but when I started writing it just kind of flowed out this way so hopefully it's still okay.

“Go on, show us again,” Ron Weasley was shaking a turkey leg in your general direction, asking to see the words that appeared on your arm this morning. In the wizarding world, on the day you were going to properly meet your soulmate, the first sentence they speak to you, excluding their name, will appear on your forearm in their handwriting. 

It was incredibly annoying to you that Ron and Hermione got this mess out of the way the first day on the bloody train. To your and Harry’s amusement, neither were originally excited about the match, but after the chaos that ensued for the four of you by the end of that year they were inseparable. Nothing brings two people closer than tragedy. 

Things got even more frustrating for you when Harry and Ginny realized they were soulmates, leaving you the lone wolf in your foursome. Entering your sixth year this year you were hopeful that maybe you would finally be able to find out who your soulmate was, roughly three fourths of those leave Hogwarts knowing who they’re intended to be with, and you would rather Avada Kadavera yourself then leave your seventh year soulmateless. 

You grabbed the sleeve of your jumper, tugging it up to your elbow, sticking your arm out in the middle of the table for your three friends to view. There on your arm read a singular sentence, do I intimidate you, love?

Hermione sat back on the bench, “His handwriting really is awful, whoever he is.” You scoffed at your friend, “Not exactly my biggest concern, Mione. More worried about why he thinks he would intimidate me? Who would even think that? By this point in our school life you’d think any of us were more intimidating than the majority of the student body.” 

“Yeah, except Slytherin,” Harry snorted, Ron following with his own round of laughter. But you weren’t laughing, you were looking at Hermione who was sporting the same grimace and worried eyes that you were sure your face looked like. 

Harry and Ron looked at each other, then looked at the two of you. “It was a joke, y/n/n,” Harry tried to ease the tension that was building. “Yeah, I mean, y’don't really think your soulmate might be…one of them,” Ron was anything but subtle with his tone of disgust, as well as his entire body turning around to face the Slytherin table. 

Ron’s actions didn’t go unnoticed by a particular group of Slytherin boys. “Staring problem, Weasley? Got a crush?” Malfoy shouted across the dining hall, earning laughs and teasing hollars from his friends. 

“Oi, Malfoy, got a present for you,” you stuck your hand in your school bag, pretending to roam around before pulling your hand back out and lifting it high in the air, giving Malfoy the middle finger. His face immediately turned into a scowl. The boy next to him, however, pretended to catch your gesture in the air and put it in his pocket, winking at you in the process. 

You rolled your eyes, turning to Hermione who had a look of disgust on her face, “Riddle’s ego really is massive innit.” All three of your friends' heads began to nod. “I swear if he didn’t verbalize how much he bloody hated us I would think he was flirting with you y/n/n.” 

“Shut it, Weasley, don’t you put that on me,” you pointed your finger at him, tone joking but words serious. He put his hands up in defense, laughing along with the rest of your friends as you all gathered your things and headed towards your first class. 

Unbeknownst to you, a similar conversation was being had at the Slytherin table. “Glad to see meeting your soulmate hasn’t deterred you from trying to flirt with anything that breathes,” Pansy took a sip of her pumpkin juice, teasing the curly haired boy across from her. 

“Dunno what you mean, Pans,” the dimples on Mattheo’s cheeks popping out as he smirked. 

“Show us your arm again, cousin,” Draco’s words causing everyone to look at Mattheo now. The younger boy scowled, rolling up the sleeve of his dress shirt. There on his arm, in beautiful loopy script were the words you’ve got to be fucking joking.

Theo couldn’t help but laugh, “Don’t know if I’ve ever seen such a foul word in such pretty handwriting.” 

Mattheo rolled his eyes, pulling his sleeve back down, “Yeah, well let’s just hope the bird is someone I can tolerate.” 

You let out a long groan, hands rubbing up and down your face as you leaned your elbows on your knees . Hermione was sat next to you in the common room, rubbing up and down your back, “The day’s not over quite yet, y/n/n. It wouldn’t appear if you weren’t gonna meet them today.” 

“Yeah,” Ron put on his best attempt at an encouraging smile, “maybe they’re another Gryffindor and you’ll meet them before we go to bed.” Harry nodded next to him in agreement. 

You stood up, grabbing your jumper off the arm of the couch and throwing it on, “M’gonna go for a walk.” 

Hermione’s lips downturned, “It’s nearly curfew.” You sighed, looking over at Harry. “I’ll go get my cloak,” he sighed, standing and walking quickly to his dorm room. 

After Harry’s return you thanked him, spending an extra twenty minutes convincing Hermione that you would be the utmost cautious and affirmed to Ron that you would stash the cloak if you were to be caught. 

Now you were quietly climbing the stairs to the astronomy tower. When you got to the top, you did a quick look over the railing. With no sign of Filch anywhere you dropped the cloak, laying it on the floor so you didn’t have to sit on the bare ground. 

As you got comfortable you dug in your shirt, pulling out a spliff. Hermione would murder you if she found out you smoked, however the year you all had to study for your O.W.L’s, you were so stressed you ended up buying from Theo Nott.

He promised to keep it to himself and you promised it was a one time thing, but you found yourself buying from him every couple months. You weren't sure if she would be more disappointed in your smoking, or you interacting with someone in the forbidden Slytherin group.

You mumbled a short incendio before taking a long drag. You blew the smoke out slowly, watching it ripple through the air and up into the night sky. You looked up at the stars, knowing the day was likely to be over soon and wondering if you were the only witch that was destined to not run into their soulmate like everyone else. 

You were lost in your thoughts and self pity. So much so you didn’t even hear someone come up the tower steps until they hit the top. You scrambled to your feet, ready to cover yourself with the cloak when you realized it wasn’t Filch, but a boy instead. 

The dark of the night made it difficult for you to see exactly who it was at first, that and the fact that every time he took a step forward you seemed to take a step back until your back was against the stone wall. When he finally stepped into the light, your breath caught in your throat. Standing in front of you, signature smirk adoring his face was Mattheo Riddle. 

You stayed rigid against the wall as he got closer to you. His fingers brushed yours as he took the spliff, bringing it up to his lips and inhaling. His eyes never left yours as he turned his head slightly, blowing the smoke into the night. His eyes traveled over you, taking in your black sleep shorts and house jumper. When he looked at your face again he locked eyes with you, almost like he was trying to read what was going on in your brain. 

“Do I intimidate you, love?” The words seemed to leave his lips without a second thought and you felt like your chest was going to cave in. There was just no way, absolutely bloody not that he said those words, the words you had been anticipating someone to say all day. Him of all people that could’ve spoken them. 

He raised his eyebrows at you, clearly looking for you to answer. Instead of some sputtering response of nervousness like Mattheo was expecting, your face just dropped. 

“You’ve got to be fucking joking.” Mattheo’s face went white after you responded, and that was all the evidence you needed to confirm that Mattheo fucking Riddle was your soulmate. He hated you. You hated him. How could two people that despise each other be destined to be soulmates?

"What are you even doing up here?" You crossed your arms over your chest, sitting into your hip. His smirk only seemed to grow, "I think the better question is what are you doing up here, partaking in drugs no less? Little miss golden girl."

You rolled your eyes, "What's that supposed to mean, Riddle?" Mattheo's jaw clenched, "It's Mattheo. And you know what it means. Wonder what everyone would think if they knew little miss perfect liked to come up to the astronomy tower to get high."

"Why would anyone believe you over me?" You were acting a little cocky now, but Mattheo was right in the aspect that you and your friends were seen in an overall more positive light than he and his.

However the look on Mattheo's face made you think he knew something you didn't, "I guess I could just have your dealer tell everyone, or are you buying from someone besides Nott these days?"

He was irritating you on purpose now. You grabbed the spliff back from Mattheo, going to sit where you were before but now leaning your forehead against the railing, “This is got to be some kind of mistake.” 

Mattheo could only snicker as he went to sit next to you, hanging his arms over the raining as he looked over the grounds, “S’destiny love, no mistake about it.” 

“Thanks so much, you’re being really encouraging about this whole thing,” you rolled your eyes, holding your hand out to him. He took it from you, filling his lungs with smoke again, passing it back and forth throughout the conversation. 

Mattheo shrugged his shoulders, “At least we’re both fit.” You snorted at this, “Who said I thought you were fit?” He scoffed, “Please, I’ve seen the way you ogle me.” You found yourself laughing, a true full belly head thrown back laugh before you looked at him and he thought the smile you were wearing was actually kind of cute, “How would you know that unless you were ogling me, hmm?”

Mattheo opened his mouth to respond, but found he couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse before you were speaking again. The sigh you let out let him know how stressed you really were, “Our friends are not going to like this.” 

He nodded, smoke billowing out of his mouth as he spoke, “Merlin, no. They’re going to bloody hate it. But s’not like it was really our choice.” You knew he was right, and you knew he was trying to be comforting, but the tone in his voice let you know that he was just as worried to let his group of friends know as much as you were. 

You opened your mouth to respond to him when you heard the all too familiar jingle of Mrs. Norris’ collar sounding like she was ascending the stairs. Your eyes grew wide as you and Mattheo both jumped to your feet. It looked like Mattheo is contemplating jumping over the tower railing when you grab his arm to push him flat against the stone wall. 

He looked at you with utter confusion as you grabbed the cloak before turning around and pushing your back flush against his chest. “What are you-”

“Shut it,” you cut him off, indicating to him to wrap his arms around your waist as you threw the cloak over the pair of you. As the cat walked on to the tower landing you felt Mattheo’s arms tighten around you, doing his best to pull you impossibly closer. 

He was decently taller than you, having to duck down slightly so the cloak covered you both properly. His face was tucked in close to your neck. His breath warm and tickling your skin as Filch followed after his beloved pet, glancing around for anything out of place. 

When he was satisfied, Filch turned around to leave, letting his cat lead the way. You waited a few beats, making sure they were nearly to the bottom of the staircase before pulling the cloak off the two of you and pushing Mattheo’s hands off of your body. 

“Thing comes in handy, that,” he pointed to the cloth in your hand. You chucked, “Yeah, m’sure your lot would get a lot less detentions if you had one.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, “Yeah, we can’t all be like the golden quartet.” 

You scoffed slightly at this as you headed down the stairs, Mattheo close behind you, “We didn’t give ourselves that nickname, you know.” He couldn’t help but laugh, “Yeah but m’sure you all don’t mind it. Definitely gets you some favoritism.” 

You stopped at the end of the corridor, Mattheo running into your back at the action and cursing. You turned to face him, “You know, my friends and I have endured a hell of a lot of shite over the last couple years, maybe we deserve a little break when we’re actually able to do normal bloody teenage things.” 

As much as you were trying to be harsh with him, be the slightest bit intimidating, his height gave him all the advantage. Mattheo knew what you meant, what you were saying without saying the words themselves. “I’m not like him. Don’t clump me in your same category of hatred. He’s done things to me too,” his eyes reflected a bit of hurt as he spoke and you knew he was telling the truth. 

Everyone in school assumed Mattheo was just like his father, held the same ideals and wanted the same things for the wizarding world. The look you were seeing on his face told you otherwise. Your frustration quickly fizzled, instead turning into something closer to pity, “M’sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” he deadpanned, “Let’s just get back to our common rooms.” You walked together in silence until you had no choice but to split off. You agreed to meet each other in the courtyard during lunch the next day and you were racking your brain on how you were going to break this news to Harry, Hermione and Ron.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. When you broke the news to your friends about who your soulmate ended up being it wasn’t exactly well received. Hermione was worried, but understanding of the fact that you had no choice in the matter. Harry was upset, but again was trying his best to be mature and said he wouldn’t interfere with you spending some time with Mattheo to get to know him better. Ron took it the worst, which you wished surprised you but he did have a flair for the dramatics.

You were first waiting for Mattheo on a bench in the courtyard, but you couldn’t stop your legs from bouncing, therefore you found a place beneath a tree, attempting to read the same three lines of a book Hermione had loaned you the other day. 

When Mattheo found you and finally sat down next to you, you shut your book immediately, letting out a sigh of relief, “Oh thank Godric, you’re here.” It didn’t go unnoticed by you the way a pair of dimples christened his cheeks, “Miss me already, pretty girl? S’barely been twelve hours.” 

You shoved his shoulder lightly, trying to resist the pink that tinted your cheeks at the nickname he used, “Not at all, I’ve been sitting here for the better part of twenty minutes, mind you. Thought maybe you decided to ditch me.” Mattheo shrugged, “M’always late. You’re gonna have to get used to that. And I would never ditch you, we’re soulmates, love. You’re stuck with me for life.” 

He had a childlike grin on his face when he said that latter part and you couldn’t help the slight notion of butterflies that seemed to flutter in your stomach or the smile that appeared on your face.

All last night you thought it was going to be difficult to fall for Mattheo, but maybe the universe knew something when it paired you two together. 

“So how did your friends take the news?” You tried to keep voice neutral, but you really were worried about their responses. Mattheo leaned back against the tree, “They were shocked for sure, Draco took it the hardest. He was more worried about having to spend more time with Potter than me being with you though. Told him that would probably be more rare than he anticipated. W’bout yours?”

You nodded, “Not as bad as I thought, actually. Mione was understanding, as always. Harry was actually pretty good about it, but very skeptical. Ron actually took it the worst, but he’s just protective. Basically like me brother.” 

“How d’ya mean?” 

You leaned back against the tree yourself, shoulder to shoulder now with Mattheo. You could feel the heat radiating off of him and you wondered if his skin was always warm to the touch, “Both my parents are aurors so they travel a lot. They didn’t think it was safe for me to go with them, so Ron’s mum offered for me to stay at theirs whenever it was needed. Turns out it was needed more times than not growing up.” 

Mattheo nodded, listening intently as you spoke. You both started asking surface questions about each other; favorite color (he said black), favorite hobby (quidditch), favorite class (free period). 

When both your friend groups came looking for you after lunch period Mattheo asked if you would go to Hogsmead with him over the weekend. You agreed, finding yourself wanting to get to know more about him. Over the next two months you went to Hogsmead with Mattheo at least one day during each weekend. 

You slowly learned that his favorite candy was fizzing whizbees, having to stop at Honeydukes every trip for him to grab some. You learned that he was actually very intelligent even though he tried to seem like he wasn't, as he was passing all of his classes even though he skipped half of them. You learned that even though Draco was older than him, he felt like an older brother to his cousin. And maybe your favorite thing that you learned, purely on accident, was that if you squeeze just above his hip that he was incredibly ticklish. 

Throughout all of this you still hadn’t kissed. You kept telling yourself (and your friends) that you didn’t want to, but the more time you spent with him, the more you found yourself yearning for it. There were times of lingering touches; his hand on your lower back as he guided you into a building, his fingertips brushing yours as you walked, his leg pressing against yours while you sat next to each other in the courtyard or at the Three Broomsticks. 

Hermione, the ever observant friend that she was, noticed your shift in attitude towards Mattheo even before you did. So when she cornered you in the common room, demanding you tell her your true feelings it was almost a relief to let it all out. 

“I think I might actually like him, Mione. Like, I know that sounds like something an insane person would say, that they like Mattheo Riddle, like romantically, like someone who isn’t just some daft bimbo, but there's just so much more to him that he lets people see.”

Hermione can’t help but laugh, “I get what you mean. Harry and Ron are coming around, you know. They see how happy you look when you’re with him.” 

You tilt your head slightly at this, “What do you mean how happy I look?” 

Hermione just shakes her head with a smile, “Like you’re with your person.” You can’t escape the blush that creeps up your neck and covers your cheeks. Hermione’s giggling at you now, “Have you still not kissed him yet?” 

You scoffed, “Godric, no.” She pushed your shoulder playfully, “Well why not, y/n/n? Don’t you want to?” 

You looked down at your hands, playing with your fingers, “I mean…I think so? But he just hasn’t really…gone for it, you know?” 

She nodded in solidarity, “Oh I know, trust me. I had to make the first move with Ronald. Maybe you have to do the same thing?” 

You contemplated her words. They invaded a space in your brain for the rest of the night, then the rest of the next morning, and through dinner, and even now as you stood leaning against the railing in the astronomy tower waiting for Mattheo to meet you. 

When you heard him coming up the steps you turned only to see him with the sweetest smile on his face. “Hey pretty girl,” he greeted as he enveloped you in a hug. “Hi, Teo,” you had donned the nickname on him your third or so time at Hogsmead. He gave you a good squeeze before letting go, his arms still lingering on your waist with yours around his neck, “What’d you wanna talk about?” 

His question was innocent, no implications in his voice that he expected anything beyond you wanting to see him. With Hermione’s advice in the back of your head you knew you needed to just act, as any more talking might lead to you psyching yourself out. 

You slid your hands down from his neck, grasping lightly to the lapel of his blazer. He raised his eyebrows slightly at the action, the smallest of smirks on his face. 

Without giving yourself time to overthink you pull him into you, lips crashing against yours. He’s shocked at first, but just for a moment before he responds, walking you back until you’re pressed against the stone wall.

One of his hands slides up your body, ghosting over your stomach and the valley of your breasts before settling lightly on your neck. The implication of the hand gesture makes you whimper slightly and Mattheo takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Your hands find his hair, tugging lightly at the curls.

When he finally pulls away you find yourself chasing his lips and he smiled at the reaction. “I think I could kiss you forever,” his forehead is resting against yours, lips still so close you can feel his breath on your own. “Yeah?” you laugh a little, smile only increasing when he presses a kiss to your cheek, “Yeah, pretty girl. Forever.”

[finelinefae]

match one [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: y/n's struggling with harry's coaching before the first tournament and harry's feelings control him more than he controls them

word count: 10.2k

contains: enemies to lovers, set at a boarding school, slow burn, angst, tennis rivals, strict parents, fluff, harry being a boy and not being able control himself around y/n

this is part 2 of the game, read part 1 here

. . .

“Again,” 

Y/N gritted her teeth and bounced the tennis ball on the ground before throwing it into the air with a straight arm and hitting it with the racket, watching as it pierced through the air to the opposite end of the court. 

She heard a sigh come from the bench on the side of the court, “Again,” 

She inhaled sharply through her nose to try and contain her temper as she repeated the same serve. 

“Again,”

Y/N spun around on the heel of her New Balance trainers, her pleated, white skort twirling as she did. She crossed her arms and glared at the boy lying on his back in his school uniform which was now crinkled and unkempt after the school day. “You’re not even watching,” She replied for the first time after having done the same serve more than ten times already. 

“I don’t need to, I know you’re not doing it correctly,” He replied, monotonously. 

She clenched her jaw, “Well as my coach, aren’t you supposed to show me how I’m meant to do it correctly?”

“I can show you but it won’t change anything,” He said. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighs and sits up, “You already know how to do a flat serve, I’ve seen you do it. You’re just not hitting it hard enough. I can hear it in the way the ball lands on the other end of the court.” 

“You could have just told me to hit it harder,” She retorts. 

“Am I meant to play the game for you as well?” He quips which makes her blood boil. 

This was their third training session, and Y/N had reached her limit. With her first proper tournament just three weeks away, she had hoped that seeking help from the best tennis player at Crestwood would elevate her gameplay. 

However, Y/N was getting frustrated with each session being a monotonous repetition of drills she had already learnt herself. It grated on her nerves and she felt as though she was back to square one. 

She was beginning to regret having enlisted Harry for his mentoring in the first place. Whenever they’d try to talk mutually to each other, it would just end up in an argument of some kind where they’d end up needing ten minutes to cool off.

Y/N had already qualified for the Academy Slam before she even asked Harry to coach her. There had originally been sixteen academies from the surrounding counties competing in the games and now there were only half and Y/N was one of them. She’d passed the qualifiers all by herself and maybe she could pass the games that way too.

“Again,” He said that one word Y/N was beginning to hate. 

Who knew what she was capable of if she had to hear that word one more time. 

Feeling a surge of anger, Y/N tossed the ball into the air and hit it with all the strength she could possibly summon. She watched as the ball made a fast and straight trajectory towards her target area which just so happened to be right beside Harry’s place on the bench. 

He jumped up, a look of surprise on his face. "What the fuck?" he exclaimed, eyes following the ball as it hit the fence.

Y/N's smirk wavered as he approached her, her surprise matching his when he spoke again. "Let's move on, shall we?"

By the end of the session, every inch of Y/N's body throbbed with exhaustion. She drained an entire water bottle in one go, her fitted polo shirt clinging to her damp skin. She had thought she'd engaged every muscle in her body, but the way her calves screamed at her with every step told a different story.

“Same time tomorrow?” Harry asked, standing above her and blocking the sunlight. 

“I want to start training properly,” Y/N stated.

“We are training properly,” He argued. 

“You realize you haven’t shown me a single tactic since you started coaching me right?”

“And?” 

“How am I meant to win the first tournament if all I know how to do is basic drills?” 

“Do you know how many times my coach made me practice flat serves before we could move on?” He asks but she doesn’t answer, “A month. I went home with blisters on my hands because I was doing them non-stop six hours a day.”

Y/N’s eyebrows raise, “You think tennis is just about being tactical then you’re not playing it properly. The only way you’ll ever be a good tennis player is if you master the techniques.” He explains, “I’ve seen you play Y/N. For someone who has never had professional coaching, you are one of the best players I’ve seen but you lack confidence in your technique. That flat serve you just aimed at me? One of the best flat serves I’ve seen in a while. If you can do that in every game, you’ll have no problem winning but if you want tactics? I can draw you a diagram and it’ll save two hours of my day no problem.” 

Y/N tries not to show her surprise at his words. Instead, she takes them all in, “Shouldn’t we at least be analysing my opponent?”

She was playing against Vanya Maddison in her next game. She was tall which was a major advantage in the game but her spatial awareness wasn’t exactly on par. 

“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.

“My speed?” Y/N frowned. 

“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.” 

Y/N had no idea whether to take it as a compliment or not. She’d never heard Harry say anything good about her so was taken off guard by his words. “So are we still on for tomorrow because I have to meet Mitch in thirty minutes and if the answer is no at least I can actually plan on getting wasted tonight.” 

Y/N took a moment to think. She had never expected him to say something positive about her, especially about her anger. It was a side of herself she often struggled to control, but hearing Harry acknowledge it as a strength left her feeling conflicted.

As much as she considered training on her own which would give her some peace and quiet, she wanted to see where her training with Harry would go. If he was right, maybe she’d actually have more of a chance of winning than she did on her own. 

She stood up and put her gym bag over her shoulder, “See you tomorrow,” She walked past him, wanting to avoid the satisfied grin on his face. 

“Y/N!” Harry called, she could hear him jogging towards her before she stepped out of the courts, “I wanted to give this to you.”

He placed in her hands a cassette tape with white masking tape on it with the words ‘Y/N’s theme songs’ scribbled onto it in black ink. “What is this?” She asked, looking up at him.

“When I was in Australia, I used music to help me get in the zone before a match. My coach told me to use a cassette tape because phones were too distracting,” He explained. 

“You made this for me?” She frowned.

“What? You’ve never been given a gift before?” He chuckles. 

Y/N looks down at the plastic in her hands. It’s not that she’d never been given a gift by anyone before- she and Sarah always exchanged gifts over Christmas and for each other’s birthdays- but it was rare for her to ever receive anything from anyone else. Her parents would often give her practical things at Christmas or transfer money into her bank account on birthdays. 

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed at her lack of reply but she cleared her throat, “I don’t have a cassette player,” She said but Harry quickly removed his backpack and pulled out a walkman. 

“You can borrow mine,” He handed it over to her, “I won’t be needing it anytime soon since I’m not playing,” She noticed the downcast look in his eyes as he mentioned the fact he wasn’t currently able to play with his injury. 

“Um, t-thanks?” She said, unsure of how to respond to his sudden kindness. It felt unusual. 

“I picked a few songs that reminded me of you,” He smirks, “Don’t worry, they’re not all about a girl with an attitude problem.” With that he turned back around and walked towards the other exit to head to the car park. 

She felt ease on her chest as the usual teasing remarks returned, “Asshole,” She called out to him to which he just put his middle finger up in reply. 

. . . 

After taking a long shower in the girl’s shower rooms in her dorm block, Y/N headed back to her dorm after changing into a white shirt and sweatpants. She could feel the strain in her arms and legs as she flopped down onto her bed. 

Luckily Sarah wasn’t back from spending time with Mitch, so she took in the peace and quiet which came rare to her these days as all her mind had been on recently was the Academy Slam. 

Her mind wandered off to Harry and his words from earlier. Y/N knew she was a good tennis player but it was the first time she had heard someone else tell her that. She wasn’t expecting it, especially not from her tennis rival of the past ten years. 

Her eyes glanced at the cassette tape and the walkman she had placed on her desk before she headed off to the shower. Sitting up, she grabbed it and stared down at it for a moment before putting the cassette into the player and putting the headphones on. 

She laid back on her bed and looked up at the ceiling of her room. Her fingers hit the play button and the first song began to flood her ears. The first few beats of Nelly Furtado’s ‘Maneater’ began to play and she immediately rolled her eyes. Then afterwards, ‘Fergalicious’ by Fergie. 

She wondered how many songs Harry had managed to put on the cassette and how many were female anthems of empowerment. 

The next song seemed to catch her attention even further when Gorillaz ‘She’s my collar’ began to play. The beat now permanently injected into her bloodstream along with the rest of the album from the number of times she had listened to it. 

She wondered if Harry had known he had included a song by one of her favourite bands and whether he knew the meaning behind the song too. Maybe it had been a coincidence which was a thought Y/N had decided to settle on as she listened to the rest of the song. 

‘Nothing to be justified yet

She the first I'm running with

She the one that get my collar

She the one I'm running with (she's my collar)’

. . . 

The next day at school, Y/N sat in the library during her study period to study for her biology exam at the end of the week. Even though she was set on the scholarship, she still needed something to fall back on if she lost out in the next few games so she made sure she was still getting the best grades she could. It had also been ingrained in her to be the best in every class and she didn’t think that trait of hers would ever leave her. 

“Y/N!” Sarah called, her voice echoing within the silence of the library.

Ignoring the irritated glances she received, she paced towards Y/N and sat in the empty seat beside her. Y/N smiled at her friend’s excitement. They were foils to each other and that’s what made them get on so well. Whilst Y/N had a black cat personality, Sarah was sunshine in a person which was probably why she was so perfect for Mitch who was equally as bright. “What’s up?”

“I need to ask you something and you’re probably going to hate me but Harry’s already said yes and-”

“Sarah,” Y/N placed her hands on her shoulders, “Breathe.”

Sarah did exactly that before continuing, “Would you do a feature with Harry for the school newspaper?” 

Y/N frowned, “What?”

“The school newspaper? You know the club I’ve been part of for the past two years? They want to do a feature on your training for the sports section and I told them I would ask you.” Sarah explained. 

“Oh I don’t know about that-”

“Pleeeassseee,” Sarah gripped her arm that was resting on the desk and batted her eyelashes.

“You know I’d do anything for you Sarah but I don’t know if I have the time and my focus is on my next game,” Y/N replied. 

“Harry’s already said yes to it,” Sarah interjected.

“You asked him before me?” 

“Well actually,” Sarah hesitated, “Luke, the boy who’s writing the article, asked him this morning,”

“Why didn’t he ask me?” 

Sarah gave her a pointed look, “You’re not exactly the most approachable,” Y/N’s frown deepened at her words, “So will you do it?” 

Y/N sighed, considering it before giving Sarah an answer. The last thing she wanted was for someone to be asking unnecessary questions in time that could be used to train for the first round of the competition but Sarah was her best friend and she knew how much the school newspaper meant to her and her university applications too. 

“Alright,” She relented, “I’ll do it.”

Sarah squealed, receiving another round of vicious glares from other students in the library. Her arms wrapped around her in a tight hug, “Thank you,” She pulled away, “They’ll come by tomorrow afternoon during practice, is that okay?” Y/N nodded a response.

. . . 

It was raining outside. 

Y/N’s eyes stared out the window as she bounced a tennis ball on the hard floor of the gymnasium and wondered if the weather foreshadowed the next hour. 

“Will you sit down?” Harry muttered, “You’re giving me a headache,” 

“He’s late,” Y/N says, “We could have been practising,”

“Do you ever just do anything else?” Y/N shot him a glare at his sarcasm, “I get this is important to you but don’t you just want to, I don’t know, have fun?”

Y/N walked over to her seat right next to his and straightened herself for the interview the school newspaper had organised for them. Sarah had told both her and Harry to dress smartly for the occasion which, according to Harry meant a designer sweatshirt and trousers whilst Y/N had gone for a dress and pumps. It wasn’t overly smart for either of them but enough to make it seem like they had made an effort. 

“The fact that you’re even suggesting that tells me you have no idea how important this is to me,” Y/N responds, monotonously. 

She hears a scoff from beside her, “What?” 

He turns to face her, his face rather too close, she notices three moles on his right cheek that she hadn’t ever seen before, “I think I know better than anyone how important this is to you but I also know from experience how important being in high school is with people your own age.” She forgets sometimes that even though he was whisked away to fulfil his place in the Australian Open, that his time of being a kid was cut short, “I don’t go out of my way to coach just anybody,”

“What do you mean?” She frowns but before Harry could reply, the doors to the gym open and in scrambles a sixth year with a messenger bag and a tripod with a camera dangling from his neck. 

“It means,” he leans forward, murmuring, “if you had half the belief in yourself as I have in you then you wouldn’t need me at all.” 

“Sorry I’m late,” Luke’s voice echoes as he steps towards them and places all three legs of the tripod on the ground and scrambles to screw his camera to it. 

“What’s with the camera?” Y/N asked. 

“O-oh, we’re recording the interview so I can write everything up later and we’re going to need your pictures together afterwards,” Luke explained. 

“You want us to take a photo together?” Y/N frowned.

“Did Sarah not tell you?” Luke replied. 

“Calm down, love. It’s just a photo,” Harry murmured and she tried not to react to the nickname he had used for her. 

Once everything was set up, Luke sat across from them with his laptop on his thighs, questions already typed out, “So, you two have known each other for a while now?” Luke asked as he sat across from them. 

As Y/N was about to tell him how they didn’t exactly know each other on a personal level but knew each other through tennis, Harry spoke up, “Since we were both in third year. I was eight and Y/N was seven but we’ve been in the same class since we were infants.” 

Luke nodded, “That must help a lot in your partnership,” 

Harry chuckled lowly, “Something like that,”

Luke types a few things down in his computer before turning his attention to Y/N, “Um, Y/N what made you turn to Harry for his coaching other than the fact he won the Australian Open?”

Y/N frowned, what more reason did she need to give? “Well, the fact he won is a big reason as to why I approached him,”

“But isn’t he injured?” Harry stiffened beside her. The way he asked made it sound like he was defective, unusable.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, “Yes but I’ve seen Harry play games with a dislocated shoulder. He’d just pop it right back in and start playing again. His current injury doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s one of the best tennis players I’ve seen at Crestwood.” Y/N ignored the looks from the two boys. She knew she’d have to compliment Harry at some point during this interview, especially if they needed to show a united front for the games.

“And do think the same about Y/N?” Luke asked Harry who now seemed irritated by him.

“I think,” Y/N was prepared for a backhanded compliment but what she got was something entirely different, “Y/N has all the potential in the world to go for what she dreams of and I hope to watch her do it all even if that means I’m watching from the sidelines.” This time it was Y/N’s turn to glance at Harry, taken aback by his words. 

Luke spoke again, “You know some people are calling you the underdog in this tournament?” Y/N froze, it was the first time she had heard of it, “all the other women competing have had professional coaching and the school invests heavily in their tennis players.”

Y/N cleared her throat, “I didn’t know that but I have every intention of proving them wrong,” Harry bumped his knee with hers but she ignored it. 

“And What do your parents think about you doing this before leaving exams?” Luke asked. 

Y/N ignored the sting she felt at the thought of telling her parents what she was doing and the looks of disappointment she envisioned, which had been gnawing at the back of her head since she qualified. She answered confidently, "They're happy for me and excited to see me in the final."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows as Luke leaned in, his expression curious. "You think you'll get to the final?"

Harry scoffed, “Are you insinuating she won’t?” 

Luke backpedalled slightly, sensing he’d struck a nerve. "I didn't mean to suggest that at all. It's just that some people doubt the capabilities of those who haven't had professional coaching."

"Hey Luke, do me a favour and invite those people to the first game in three weeks' time. Let them witness firsthand what it's like watching a player as skilled as Y/N, without any professional coaching," Harry's frustration was palpable, catching Y/N off guard with his assertiveness. Typically, she would be the first to break in such situations but it seemed Harry already had.

Luke’s face warmed as he realised he overstepped, “R-right, let’s move on.” He scanned through his list of questions to find something more light-hearted to break up the mood, whilst Y/N straightened her shoulders, thankful they’d gotten to the final round of questions. “What do you both like to do outside of training?” 

“Together?” Y/N cringed, trying to picture spending time with Harry in a normal setting. 

“Not necessarily,” Luke shrugged. 

“My best friend is dating her best friend so we’ve been spending a lot more time together recently. Normally, I play guitar or recite poetry whenever I’m not coaching Y/N to volley properly,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the lies that left his mouth.  

“I study,” Y/N stated. 

“That’s it?” Luke’s eyebrows creased.

Her cheeks turned slightly pink, “I’m top of the class in all of my classes, that doesn’t just happen without hard work.”

She could feel Harry’s eyes on her and for the first time, she turned her head to catch his eyes. She noticed the frown on his lips and something in his eye that looked a lot more like concern or sympathy than the desire to tease her about her lack of social life. 

“Well, I think that will be enough,” Luke stood up and grabbed his camera, “Do you mind if we take a few photos now?”

Y/N and Harry stood from their seats, side by side and looked into the lens of the camera. Y/N’s cheeks hurt from forcing a smile as Harry did the same, “You’re standing too close to me,” Y/N spoke through her teeth as the camera flashed.

"Look who's talking with their giant foot squashing my shoe," Harry retorts, a playful glint in his eyes. Y/N inhales sharply, her gaze dropping to her foot to see what he's referring to. But before she can react, Harry smoothly slides his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side with practised ease. Their eyes meet, and just as the camera flashes, capturing the moment, Y/N side steps out of his grip with an annoyed huff.

“Okay, that will be all,” Luke smiled. 

As Luke packed his things away, Y/N and Harry stood awkwardly side by side without saying a word. Y/N glanced out the window and saw the sky had cleared up and the sun was setting. She needed to get back to her dorm to study for her French exam tomorrow as well as binge-watch tennis matches on YouTube which she’d been doing a lot recently. 

“Did you really mean that?” Harry asked, catching her attention, “All you do is study outside of school?”

Y/N looked at him, “I hang out with Sarah some days but yeah, I mostly study. I don’t really have a lot of choice and I’m not naturally smart.” Harry’s head tilted to the side like he was secretly questioning her in his head, “What? Aren’t you meant to crack a joke about me being stupid or something?”

Harry's eyes softened, his voice gentle. "I could never think you're stupid, love," he said, the nickname slipping from his lips with a tenderness that caught Y/N off guard. She found herself speechless, unable to figure out what had gotten into him recently. 

He pulled out his car keys from his back pocket and motioned his head towards the gymnasium exit, “C’mon,” He urged, “I wanna try something out and before you ask, it’s nothing to do with tennis or studying.”

Y/N’s feet stayed glued to the ground as he walked away and expected her to follow. She furrowed her brows and crossed her arms, wanting to refuse his invitation so she could get back to her dorm. But curiosity got the better of her and she followed a few paces behind him as he led her to the empty car park. 

Harry pressed the button on the car keys and the lights flashed on a black Audi hiding in the corner, “What are we doing?” She asked. 

“Have you ever driven a car before?” He wondered, looking at her with a hint of mischief. 

“Never,” She replied and was bewildered to see him open the door to the passenger seat instead of the driver’s seat. 

“Looks like it’s your lucky day, love,” He smirked.

Y/N’s eyes widened, “N-no! Harry, I'm not driving your stupidly expensive car.”

“C’mon,” Harry chuckled, “Don’t be chicken.”

She scoffed, “I’m not being chicken, I’m being sensible. If I crash that car, I don’t even think my parents will have enough money to fix it.”

“My parent’s will,” He grinned, cockily, “Get in,” 

“No, I’m not driving that car.” She insisted. 

Five minutes later, Y/N sat in the driver’s seat of Harry’s Audi with her fingers over her eyes as he instructed her on how to start. “Are you crazy?” She whimpers as he switches the engine on. 

“Stop worrying, I’ve got my hand on the break.” She looks down to see his hand already wrapped around the hand break, “Just stay calm and do what I told you to do. Clutch down, first gear and then ease your foot gently off the clutch.”

“You’re supposed to be teaching me tennis, not driving laps around the school parking lot,” Y/N argued.

“Think of this as a team bonding exercise,” He shrugged, “Okay now foot down on the clutch,”

“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” She strangled out, placing her shaky hands on the wheel.

“Relax,” Harry chuckled, “You’re being dramatic.”

“It won’t be so dramatic when we end up in a tree,” Y/N retorted as she carefully felt the pedals and pressed down slowly on the clutch. Feeling the car rise, Y/N gasped and removed her foot. 

“Calm down, it’s just because you put your foot on the clutch,” Harry was trying his best not to laugh at her, “Okay, now do it again.”

Y/N squeezed her hands on the wheel and repeated her actions, moving the gear stick “Okay, now carefully raise the clutch,” Harry instructed and as she did, he lowered the handbrake and the car slowly began to move forward. 

“Holy shit,” Y/N wailed, “We’re moving,”

This time, Harry did laugh unable to stop himself after seeing her reaction, “Make sure you turn the wheel or we really will end up in a tree,” 

Y/N did as she was told and turned the wheel slowly, “Okay, I’ll move into second,”

“Harry no!” She gasped but put the clutch down so he could move gears. 

“Atta girl,” He beamed.

Y/N’s worried expression soon turned into shock and then excitement as she moved slowly around the car park, “I’m driving Harry!” Y/N grinned and Harry swore it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

“You are,” He praised, “There’s nothing you can’t do.”

After switching between first and second gear and Y/N complaining that her feet were aching from how tense she was using the pedals, Harry offered to swap places and show her what it was really like to go out on an evening drive. 

“Harry!” Y/N choked on a laugh as he went all the way up to sixth gear down the empty streets in the middle of nowhere, “Slow down,” She squealed. 

Harry glanced at her, grinning when he saw how wide the smile was on her face. He pressed his finger on the button to wind down all the windows, “Oh shit I love this song,” He turned the volume up on the stereo as Beyonce’s ‘Love on Top’ started playing, blaring loudly through the speakers of his car. 

“Baby it’s you! You’re the one I love! You’re the one I need!” Harry screamed the lyrics of the song and Y/N’s laughter sounded through the entire car as her hair blew behind her. “Sing it, baby!” He cheered, neither of them realising what he had called her. 

“I’m not gonna sing it,” She shook her head, her eyes squeezing shut as the engine revved. 

“It’s the only way I’m gonna slow down,” He teased as the build-up to the chorus played. 

Y/N giggled as Harry began to sing solo to the chorus again, giving her a look that had her rolling her eyes before she screamed out the lyrics alongside him, “When I need you, make everything stop! Finally, you put my love on top!”

Their laughter merged together as the song played out. Harry slowed down the closer they got back to town and cast a sideways glance at Y/N who was brushing her wind-swept hair with her fingers. “You okay?” He asked, seeing the glow on her face. 

“Yeah,” She bit her lip, “I’m okay. I just don’t get to do stuff like this… ever really.”

He nodded in understanding. Harry had met Y/N’s parents a few times before. His parents were frequent visitors to their country club so he knew what they were like but he had no idea of the extent of the pressures they had put on Y/N to do well. It reminded him of his own parents and the last thing he wanted to do was allow someone to feel the same way he did whenever his parents were too hard on him. 

“Wanna pull in somewhere to get something to eat?” Harry asked. It was getting late and they both had school tomorrow but he couldn’t seem to allow himself to let her go- not when she was having so much fun. 

“Okay,” Y/N nodded. 

He pulled into a dessert shop that was still open. Y/N followed him inside and to a booth in the corner. Harry ordered both of them bowls of soft-serve ice cream and Y/N even asked if she could have a strawberry milkshake to go with it. “I shouldn’t really be eating,” She told him.

“Hmm I heard drinking strawberry milkshakes improves your footwork. They served them all the time in Australia,” Y/N shot him a look that told him she knew he was bullshitting her but it made him smile. 

“Are you nervous about the game coming up?” They’d been training non-stop every evening and Y/N was quickly improving everything she had already learnt on her own. After considering Harry’s words a few days ago, she knew Harry was right. He had been good for her technique and she felt even more sure of herself than she did at the beginning. 

“No,” She said coolly, “I don’t have time to be nervous.”

Harry scoffed, “I don’t believe that for a second.” 

The waitress came over and placed their desserts in front of them, along with a strawberry milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top. “Mitch says he’s going to throw a party at my place if you make it through to the semi-finals.”

“A party at your place?” Y/N quirked a brow.

Harry sighs, “He came up with the idea of throwing a party and then just kind of decided it would be at mine.” He explained. 

Y/N nodded and took a sip of her milkshake. It had been so long since she had had something so sugary and sweet. She hummed before realizing she was being watched by the boy opposite her, “Just so you know, even though you bought these desserts and taught me how to drive, doesn’t mean I like you.”

Harry laughed, his eyes crinkling and dimples carving into his cheeks. Y/N’s heart stuttered but she pushed the feeling down, “Okay, tomorrow you can go back to hating me again and we’ll pretend today didn’t happen.”

“And you can do the same,” She says. 

Harry gives her a look, his eyes flashing with something she couldn’t put a label on, “I don’t hate you Y/N.” 

She frowns, “You’ve always hated me,” 

“No,” He shook his head, “Never.”

“But you’re always making fun of me,” And she always did the same. 

“Because it’s the only way I get to speak to you.” He admits. 

Y/N’s lips parted in surprise, unable to believe what she was hearing. She had always assumed Harry had hated her since their rivalry had gone on for so long. She didn’t know what to say, confused by the sudden revelation.

“Ew,” It came out before she even had time to think, “Don’t be nice to me, it’s making me uncomfortable.” 

Harry seemed to deflate but quickly placed a smile on his face, “You make me uncomfortable and you’re singing, by the way, is awful.” 

Y/N scoffed, "At least I don't sound like a dying goat." Despite the return of their familiar banter, her heart seemed to continue to flutter under Harry's earnest gaze, stirring a mix of emotions within her that she’d never felt before. 

She didn’t know what was going on with her but the last thing she needed to think about was her emotions when her biggest goal to date was right before her. 

. . .

Three weeks had gone by far too quickly for Y/N’s liking.

“Again,” Harry drawled.

Y/N gritted her teeth and repeated the backswing technique Harry had shown her but the angle was all wrong and the ball ended up going completely off court.

“Fuck,” Y/N spat, throwing her tennis racket on the floor and squatting, balling her hands into fists on her head.

Harry sighed, walking over. “You’re nervous about tomorrow,” He stated like he didn’t need her to confirm despite the fact she had constantly told everyone she wasn’t nervous about anything. 

“I just need to win,” She mumbled.

“Get up,” Harry ordered. 

Y/N did as she was told and stood up. He grabbed the racket from the floor that she’d thrown across the court like a toddler throwing their toys out a pushchair and flipped the racket between both of his hands. He handed it back to her and grabbed his own.

“I want you to mirror my actions,” He says and stands a few steps away from her. 

He steps forward, tossing the tennis ball into the air before swinging his racket with both hands, expertly landing it in the left corner of the opposing court. Y/N tracks his every move, mimicking his actions as if she were his shadow.

Y/N’s ball lands slightly off target and Harry bites his lip to stop himself from smiling at the scowl on her face. He walks towards her and comes up behind her. Y/N’s breathing hitches when she feels his fingertips press gently on her arm. 

“You need to straighten this arm more,” He advises, his fingertips sliding down her arm and leaving a trail of goosebumps as he straightens her arm out. “Calm down,” he murmurs, his mouth near her ear, “I can feel your heart beating.”

Y/N seems to lose every ounce of oxygen when he places his hand flat against her back where he can feel her heart beating, “Breathe,” He says, “You will win tomorrow, I will make sure of it.” 

The warmth that flooded Y/N’s body quickly left as Harry took a step back, “Try it again,” He nodded towards her racket.

Y/N sighed, tensing her muscles again after Harry had practically managed to turn them into liquid. She tried to ignore the flutter in all of the pulse points in her body that were screaming to make contact with that new presence and swung her racket, landing the ball exactly where she wanted. 

“There y’ go,” He murmurs, almost as if he was saying it to himself. “I think we should call that it for today,”

“What?” Y/N frowned, “The game is tomorrow, I need to practice.”

“Y/N, we’ve been practising for half the day already. You’re going to wear yourself out if you carry on,” Harry tells her.

“Fine,” She huffed but Harry gave her a knowing look.

“Come to my place,” He offers.

“Why would I do that?” She goes to grab her sweatshirt on the bench and pulls it over her head. It was getting colder now that the sun was going down. 

“Because I know you’re just going to come back here once I leave and trust me, you don’t want to do that.” She opened her mouth to refuse but he continued, “We can watch Wimbledon on TV and order pizza.”

She wondered how he knew that Wimbledon was one of her favourite movies and pizza was her favourite food. “Is it the DVD exclusive?” Y/N asked.

Harry’s lips tilted upwards, “Of course,” Y/N nodded, following him to his car so he could drive them to his apartment. 

Y/N remembered the last time she was in Harry's car three weeks ago. It was the first time Y/N truly enjoyed being in his company and the first time she had allowed herself to have fun and relax. 

The day after,  they resumed their usual arguing as if the previous night hadn't occurred. However, Y/N found herself overwhelmed by a surge of unfamiliar emotions swirling within her.

Despite the bickering, she kept noticing things about Harry—like the way he smiled and talked. It made her feel weird like there was something more between them that she hadn't noticed before.

The air was silent between them as the radio played lowly in the background. Harry turned into a block of apartments that looked far too expensive for a student to afford all by themself. “This is where you live?” Y/N asked, her eyes widening as he pulled into a spot. 

“For now,” He says. 

Y/N trailed behind Harry as they rode the elevator to the fifth floor and made their way to his apartment. When he swung open the door, flooding the space with light, Y/N couldn't help but notice the spaciousness of the apartment, as well as its emptiness.

“I haven’t had time to unpack,” Harry said, walking to the kitchen after kicking his shoes off, “Do you want anything to drink?”

“I’ll just take a glass of water,” Y/N’s eyes darted to all of the boxes that covered the floor. 

She walked to the kitchen area and leaned against the counter, “Are those your trophies?” She asked, seeing the metal cups in an open box.

Harry smiled, “Yeah, I’ve kept all of mine even the ones that didn’t count.” 

“They all count,” Y/N grins, walking over and pulling one out, “The battle of the sexes trophy.” 

Harry smirked, walking round to stand beside her, “I still remember the look on your face when they handed me that trophy. If looks could kill, love, I don’t think I would be here.” 

“It was a big deal to me okay?” Y/N replies, “I seemed to blame you for all my losses when I was a kid.” 

Harry’s expression softens and his head turns to look at her, “Will you blame me if you don’t win tomorrow?” 

Y/N’s smile falters, “No, I’d blame myself. I think if I lost this, I don’t know who I would be anymore. Tennis is my life.”

Harry’s eyes glint underneath the soft lighting of the kitchen, “God,” He whispers, “You drive me crazy y’ know that?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Do you think you could love anything more?” He asks, ignoring her question. 

“I can’t think of anything, if I did I’d have to love it an awful lot.”

“Okay,” He nods like he’s accepting a challenge. 

Y/N narrows her eyes, “What are you thinking?” 

“Nothing,” He shrugs, “But I want you to know-”

Before Harry could finish his sentence, the door swings open and the shrill sound of his mother’s voice fills the air. Y/N stands straight and she notices Harry tense up, taking a step in front of her, he pushes her behind him.

“Harry,” His mother sighs, “How are you darling?” 

“Mum,” He replies, curtly, “What are you doing here?”

“Your father’s running late home so I thought I would come by to see how you were,” She says and then looks behind him.

Y/N doesn’t need Harry to introduce her as she steps forward and holds out a hand, “Hi Mrs Styles, it’s nice to see you again.” 

"Y/N?" Anne gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. "You've grown so much, you're beautiful." She reached out, taking both of Y/N's hands in hers and giving her an appraising look.

Y/N's cheeks flushed at the compliment. "Thank you, Mrs. Styles," she stammered, feeling a mixture of nerves and warmth.

Anne smiled warmly. "Oh, call me Anne," she insisted before turning her attention to Harry. "I didn't know you two were such good friends."

Y/N and Harry exchanged a quick glance, both unsure of how to respond.

"I'm her coach," they both blurted out simultaneously, the words tumbling out in a rush.

Anne's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?" she exclaimed, her gaze flitting between them. "You're coaching?"

Harry nodded, his expression serious. "Yes," he confirmed quietly.

"But Harry, your injury," Anne interjected, concern evident in her voice as she glanced down at his leg. "You're not meant to be—"

"I'm fine, Mum," Harry interrupted sharply, his tone making no room for argument.

"Harry, you know you can’t be playing-"

"I said I'm fine," Harry's voice rose, his frustration evident as he cut her off, causing Y/N to jump at the sudden outburst.

Anne's concern softened into a resigned sigh, her eyes reflecting a mixture of worry and understanding. "Alright, Harry," she relented, her tone gentler now. "Just promise me you're taking care of yourself."

Harry's features softened, a hint of remorse flickering in his eyes. "I promise, Mum," he said, his voice softer now, more subdued.

Anne nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Good. That's all I ask."

As the atmosphere relaxed, Anne turned her attention back to Y/N, her smile warm and welcoming. "Well, it's lovely to see you again, Y/N," she said kindly. “Tell your parents we’ll be stopping by in the spring.”

Y/N returned the smile, her earlier nervousness dissipating in the warmth of Anne's acceptance. "It was nice to see you too, " she replied sincerely.

Harry glanced at Y/N, a softness in his gaze that made her heart skip a beat. After seeing his mother out following her very brief visit, Y/N finally mustered the courage to ask, "What was she talking about?"

Harry's expression turned grave, his features shadowed by a sense of burden. "It was nothing," he replied.

"Why can't you play?" Y/N pushed, her concern evident in her voice.

"Y/N, I'm telling you to leave it alone," Harry warned, his tone firm.

But Y/N couldn't let it go. "If it's nothing, then why can't you tell me?" she insisted, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

"Because it's none of your business, that's why," Harry snapped, his words cutting like a knife. 

"Nothing I do or say has anything to do with you, so go back to hating me because it's a hell of a lot easier than what I have to deal with."

Y/N's heart sank at his harsh words. With a deep breath, she crossed her arms, her resolve hardening. "You know, now I remember why we never got along in the first place," she retorted, her voice laced with bitterness. With a sharp turn on her heel, she made her way to the front door. "You're such an asshole, Harry."

"Y/N," Harry called out, his voice tinged with regret as she stormed out of his apartment towards the elevator. "Y/N, come on, don't be like that."

"Go suck a dick," she shot back, stepping into the elevator before Harry could stop her.

As the doors closed, Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Let me drive you back, at least," he pleaded, his voice barely audible over the sound of the closing doors.

"Fine," Y/N huffed, her tone clipped with annoyance.

The car ride back to her dorm was tense and silent. When Harry pulled into the front of her dormitory, Y/N moved to open the door finding the silence far too uncomfortable. Then, out of nowhere, Harry's voice broke the silence. "I can't play tennis anymore," he confessed, his words heavy.

Y/N's heart stopped, her breath catching in her throat. "What do you mean you can't play anymore? That's ridiculous," she exclaimed, her disbelief evident in her voice.

Harry's hands tightened on the wheel, his knuckles turning white. "I mean I can't ever play tennis again," he admitted, his voice cracking with emotion.

"Are you serious?" Y/N asked, her voice trembling with shock.

"I tore my ACL during practice for the French Open. I—" Harry's voice trailed off, unable to continue, “It was so bad Y/N and I was in so much fucking pain and no one would listen to me. I went through multiple surgeries and rehab but the doctors sat me down and said I couldn’t play unless I wanted to fuck up my leg for the rest of my life.” 

“Harry…” Y/N’s eyes glistened with tears. 

Her breath caught in her throat as the weight of Harry's words sank in. She glanced over at him, seeing the pain etched in his features, and felt a surge of empathy wash over her. It was a devastating blow for someone who had dedicated their life to the sport they loved.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice filled with genuine sadness for the boy beside her.

Harry managed a small nod, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, “That’s why I had to come back here. My father can barely look at me and my mother won’t leave me alone. At least here I can be around people my own age but when I’m at home, it’s fucking suffocating Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t imagine losing the one thing she loved above anything else in the world and have to re-construct everything she had ever known to find something else to love just as much. 

“I don’t expect you to say anything but I’d appreciate it if you showed me a little mercy,” He spoke. 

“Why would you offer to coach me then? Would that not make things worse?” She asked.

He looks at her, really looks at her, like there was something on the tip of his tongue he wanted to say but couldn’t, “I figured it would alleviate the pain.” 

“But I saw you play, I watched you and you beat me,” She exclaimed.

“Yeah and it hurt like a bitch afterwards,” He shook his head.

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wondered why Harry had been unwilling to play against her during the training sessions and now she knew why. She felt awful, her heart was hurting for him. 

“I don’t want you to feel pity for me and I don’t want this to change anything between us. I’m tired of being treated like a broken toy and I think it would kill me inside if you looked at me differently.” 

Y/N stayed quiet, facing forward and collecting her thoughts before saying, “Thank you for telling me,” She murmured, “And it doesn’t change anything. You’re still an asshole,”

Harry laughed and then his pinky brushed the side of her hand, “You will be everything tomorrow.” He whispered.

Y/N’s heart fluttered at the soft edge of his words, “You think so?”

His eyes softened, “I believe in you, more than anyone in the entire world.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath and looking out the window. The tension had settled and now a newfound respect lingered between them. 

She would win tomorrow, for herself and for him. 

. . . 

It had been a while since Harry had been to a tennis tournament. The last time he was on a court for an official match was well over six months ago, it was a challenger match he participated in during his training for the French Open before his life took a vast turn. 

He sat in the stands with everyone else from Crestwood who had come to watch the first game. Although Crestwood Academy invested more in the football team than any other sport, the turnout had been pretty good and nearly every seat was occupied by a student or teacher. 

On the opposite side was Eaststone Academy who seemed to have invested heavily in their merchandise for Y/N’s opponent. Everyone was either wearing a t-shirt with Vanya’s name on it or carrying a sign with supportive catchphrases written in bold marker. 

Harry craned his neck in hopes of seeing Y/N preparing herself somewhere outside of the court but couldn’t find her anywhere. He’d sent her a quick message this morning and asked her if she needed anything but she insisted she wanted to be alone. 

“Fuck, it’s good we got in the queue early,” Mitch came by with an anxious Sarah, holding two cokes in his hand. They were both wearing navy shirts and sweatbands around their heads, Sarah was holding a sign that had Y/N’s name on it. 

“She’s gonna hate you for that,” Harry tried not to smile.

“Oh I already know,” Sarah said, “She watched me make it last night and then almost ripped in half when I asked her if I should bedazzle it.”

Harry’s expression changed into one of concern, “How was she?”

“She’s nervous but she insisted she was okay,” Sarah rolled her eyes, “You know how she is.”

He did, which was why he was willing to accept the fact she wanted to be by herself even though he was desperate to drive over there with strawberry milkshakes just so he could see that smile he had been dreaming about for the past three weeks. 

Suddenly, Eaststone Academy stood from their seats and cheered as Vanya Maddison came onto the court. “I’ve never seen such long legs,” Sarah gasped, saying what both Harry and Mitch were thinking. 

Harry’s heart pounded in his chest as the people around him stood on their feet. He glanced down to the court and his eyes fell on Y/N as she walked onto the court with a dip between her brows and her tennis bag over her shoulder. 

She was wearing a white, pleated skort and a Ralph Lauren polo shirt. Her hair was slicked back as tightly as possible into a braid and her white runners were tied up on her feet. He noticed she was wearing earbuds in her ears and then found the walkman he had given her clipped to her skort. He smiled at that, wondering which of the many songs he had put together she was listening to. 

“There she is,” Sarah pointed and then waved to get her attention. 

Y/N held a hand over her face to block the sun and looked up at the crowd. When she caught sight of Sarah, she offered a friendly wave before her eyes landed on Harry. She gave him a nod of acknowledgement and then walked to her seat on the other side of the umpire. 

“C’mon,” Harry murmured, feeling his palms sweating at the sight of her. 

“She’s got this in the bag, H.” Mitch puts a hand on his shoulder. 

Through the speakers, the umpire calls out the start of the match and everyone falls silent as both players walk to opposing sides of the court. Y/N bounces on her feet and swings her racket backwards and forwards as though warming herself up before the match starts.

When the first serve came, Y/N's reflexes kicked in. She returned the ball swiftly, keeping the rally going with her quick movements, remembering what Harry had taught her. Each exchange became more intense, but Y/N stayed determined, chasing down every ball.

When Vanya hit the ball for the other corner, Y/N ran towards it and returned the ball swiftly, earning the first point with a well-placed shot. The crowd erupted into cheers as Y/N gained an early lead.

“That’s my girl!” Harry clapped his heart in his throat. 

But Vanya wasn't about to let up. With determination in her eyes, she fought back, winning the next two points with powerful serves and precise shots. The score was now in Vanya's favor, and the pressure was on for Y/N.

“Fuck!” Y/N released a growl and hit her racket against the floor before storming off to her seat. Harry was tempted to walk down and help her but he needed to let her see what she was capable of on her own. 

Her anger was radiating from her, “I’d hate to get on her bad side,” Mitch said. 

Harry couldn’t seem to reply as he leant forward with both his elbows on his knees. “C’mon, c’mon, you can do it.” He mutters, thinking of the first bit of advice he had given her. 

“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.

“My speed?” Y/N frowned. 

“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.” 

Y/N rolled her shoulders back and stood on her feet. She walked back to her line on the court and bounced the ball up and down on the ground before throwing it up in the air and hitting it with a flat serve, exactly the way Harry had taught her. Her anger radiated from her as she slammed the ball with her racket and hit it with such force it went flying to the other end of the court but not before bouncing inside the square right by Vanya’s foot. 

Harry stood to his feet and pumped his fist into the air, “Holy shit!” Mitch exclaimed as Sarah cheered beside him. 

They were now at match point and Y/N had to win this next round if she wanted to win the entire game.

The tension thickened in the air as people sat on the edge of their seats to see who would come out on top. This time, it was Vanya’s turn to serve as she launched the ball into the air and hit it with her racket to Y/N’s side of the court.

As Y/N unleashed powerful serves and precise shots, Harry found himself captivated by her every move. With each grunt of exertion, each flex of her muscles, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Despite the shifting heads of the spectators around him as they followed the ball back and forth, his gaze remained fixed solely on her.

Every aspect of Y/N's play had him in a trance—the way her muscles rippled as she sprinted across the court, the intensity in her expression as she anticipated Vanya’s next move, the graceful sway of her hair with each swing of her racket.

But as Harry watched, something stirred within him. A warmth spread through his veins, igniting a fire deep within him. Suddenly, he felt a tightness in his shorts, a physical reaction to the raw power and determination radiating from Y/N on the court.

"Oh, fuck," Harry muttered under his breath, his heart racing as he glanced down and saw the undeniable bulge in his shorts. Panic surged through him, his mind reeling with embarrassment.

"What's wrong?" Mitch's voice cut through his thoughts, and Harry quickly lowered his drink to conceal his arousal.

“N-Nothing,” Harry forces a smile, “I need to use the bathroom.” He doesn’t wait for Mitch to respond as she pushes past everyone to get away from the crowd.

He walks quickly over to his car and jumps into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He didn’t know what to do. He felt like he was thirteen years old after experiencing girls for the first time again. Was it wrong to rub himself off in the middle of a tennis match when all he was looking at was the girl who played his favourite sport better than anyone he had ever seen, dominating the game with her anger and intensity like she was a complete animal?

He couldn’t shake the image of her from his mind and his cock seemed to ache the more he thought about how beautiful she was on the court, completely in her element, anger and passion emitting from her. Every grunt and groan she made as she hit the ball with so much fervor had his head spiralling. 

He looked down and tried to will it away, he needed to get back out there to see her win the game. He thought of every disturbing thing he could possibly think of and even took out his phone to google the quickest way to get rid of an erection.

The excited yells of the crowd told him someone had won and he prayed he would return and see Y/N with the medal around her neck. 

After about ten minutes of taking deep breaths, he finally felt composed enough to leave his car. With a flustered face, he made his way back toward the court, silently praying for some kind of cosmic intervention to erase the embarrassing moment from his memory.

As he turned the corner, he spotted Mitch and Sarah engaged in conversation with Y/N, who was proudly wearing the gold medal around her neck. She had won - he knew she would. 

Y/N's eyes lit up as she noticed him, a wide smile spreading across her face as she proudly displayed her medal. Unable to resist, he grinned back in response.

Sweat glistened on her skin, her cheeks flushed with exertion, and delicate strands of hair framed her face. At that moment, she radiated beauty, and he couldn't deny the sudden surge of emotions that had slowly been weaving themselves into the fabric of his feelings ever since he had returned to Crestwood. 

If the past fifteen minutes were anything to go by, Harry knew this was more than just a game of tennis. 

He was in trouble.

. . .

People cheered as Y/N entered Harry’s apartment with Sarah at her side, holding beer cans in the air and patting her on the shoulder as she sifted through the crowds of people. S&M by Rhianna played over the speakers as the apartment that was previously empty was now filled up with student’s from Crestwood. 

“There she is,” Mitch’s voice yelled over the music, “Crestwood’s very own Serena Williams,”

“I wouldn’t go that far Mitch,” She chuckled, unable to stop herself from smiling so hard after the excitement of her first win. 

Y/N’s eyes scanned the room as she went in search of the one person she wanted to see whilst everyone fell into conversation around her. 

That’s when she saw him, leaning against the wall with a red solo cup in his hand. His hair was a tangled mess, and his body was adorned in a loose, white shirt, its u-neck revealing the inked pair of swallows beneath his collarbones and gold chain around his neck. On his legs, he wore a loose pair of black trousers.

Y/N held back a smile as she made her way over to him until she realised who he was talking to. 

Her face fell as she saw the angelic blonde, tanned and glowing like she’d just come back from a holiday somewhere south of the equator. 

Harry’s face lit up as Y/N approached until he realised what was going on.

“Hey,” He smiled, trying to distract her. 

“Where were you?” Y/N snapped her gaze towards him. 

“What do y’ mean? M right here,” He spoke, “You were incredible out there.”

“Who’s this?” Y/N ignored him, folding her arms and looking at the girl he was speaking to. Y/N knew exactly who she was but felt the need to act as though she had never seen her before. 

Harry hesitated for a moment before introducing her. “Y/N, this is Astrid.”

Astrid flashed a dazzling smile at Y/N, her demeanour friendly yet confident. “Congratulations on the win today, Y/N. I’m looking forward to our match in the semifinals.”

Harry's reaction was immediate. “What?” he stammered, clearly taken aback.

“You didn’t know?” Astrid asked, surprised. “Y/N and I will be facing off in the semifinals.”

Y/N grit her teeth and forced a smile, the two girls eyeing each other up and down as Harry’s eyes darted anxiously between them.

Now that Y/N was into the semi-finals her next opponent was Astrid Anderson, one of the best junior, female tennis players in the county. 

Who just so happened to be Harry’s ex-girlfriend.

[callmerainman]

First Man on the Earth still couldn't hit this | sinner!Adam x fem!sinner!Reader

pairing. sinner!Adam x fem!sinner!Reader

themes. enemies to lovers, Adam reincarnates as a sinner, Reader is a royal guard.

spoilers! for Hazbin Hotel S1 finale

tw! mentions of sex, suggestive themes in general, the feminism leaving my body as I write for Adam

When Adam came back as a sinner and asked to be redeemed at the Hotel, no one was having that shit lmao.

But, as always, Charlie believes in second chances and it didn't feel right to her to just not let him in.

At only one condition: he would always have to be supervised by you, Lucifer's royal guard.

You were skilfully trained to become a guard at the royal family's services, and Lucifer had just the right mission for you in mind.

You accepted gladly, finally a task that wasn't guarding his rubber ducks.

But then you meet Adam, and you start immediately regretting the ducks.

You both find each other totally INSUFFERABLE.

He hates the idea of someone watching over him, so he lashes at you multiple times a day, as you talk back to him.

"Can't you just not stick your fucking angelic spear in my cereals?"

Despite your hatred for him, you took the mission very seriously and watched over him to check all his moves, just in case he had bad intentions.

But if you could, oh you would have ran away from his repellent presence the second you saw him at the Hotel.

He despises you so much that he doesn't even dare to flirt with you. You heard right. ADAM.

It takes some next level skill to get on his nerves to the point where he doesn't even want to sleep with you. And he remarks it a lot.

You do the same honestly.

"An old hag like you can only DREAM of having a piece of the original dick!"

Your face distorts in disgust "I would rather swallow all of Lucifer's rubber ducks than even think about it!"

At least you agree on something.

So your dynamic mainly consists of fighting, shouting at each other, name calling, pointing at his throat with your spear, Charlie separating you two as soon as you start throwing hands.

Speaking of Charlie, she had some special classes to make you two get along but they made things worse if anything.

One of them lead to the biggest fight you and Adam ever had.

As soon as you both get up to go to your respective rooms, still shouting insults at each other, Angel Dust raises one of his hands.

"Is it me or I sense some unspoken sexual tension?"

Everybody groans in disapproval, but immediately starts placing bets. Angel Dust is the only one who bets that you two will end up fucking.

In your room, you try to cool down but Adam is just making your job impossible. You're in fact fuming just by thinking about him and his stupid pretty face and his way of talking back to you.

Exasperated, you knock at his door, face already hot in anger. You want to set things straight.

As soon as he opens the door and sees you, he's already annoyed.

"You're making my job fucking impossible, you know?! If you really want to redeem yourself maybe you can start collaborating instead of being the most fucking annoying being to ever land in Hell!" you scream, pointing a finger at him.

Adam gets close to your face, towering over you "I'm not the one who asked to have someone fucking glued to my ass, you know?!"

Neither of you noticed your proximity, not until your foreheads were touching and you were breathing heavily against each other's faces, both hot. From anger, or...you know.

And then, something happens.

You both just lean in and kiss.

Oh boy Angel Dust may be onto something.

The moment you and Adam start to make out is the one you realize that all that fighting was your way of denying something that is now obvious.

The magnetic, undeniable sexual tension that wasn't just some weird figment of imagination.

In a matter of seconds you're all over each other and Adam drags you inside his room. You shut the door, just in case.

After you're done you find something else to agree on! 1. Best sex ever 2. No one has to know 3. Never again

You end up having sex again that very same day. And everybody knows because they heard you downstairs. A very lucky day for Angel Dust's finances!

Neither of you knew that the others at the Hotel were aware so you two would try to sneak out to have sex discreetly.

"We'll go upstairs to...uh...FIGHT! You know? Because we always fight! And we're totally not going upstairs to have sex...'cause we would never have sex with each other!"

Except none of that is discreet, you two go absolutely wild at it.

Meanwhile, you and Adam start to open up to each other more, mainly during pillow talk. You find out that you have a common music taste, and humor. Conversations flow so naturally, something that you would have never guessed.

Something blossoms, and you and Adam realize that you are head over heels for each other.

In the end, Charlie brings up to you two that everybody at the Hotel knows that you have been hooking up. On one side, because she's genuinely happy that you two get along in one way or another. Second, Alastor threatened to obliterate you both if you don't stop exposing him to your obscenities.

So you and Adam decide to stop keeping it a secret, to both yourselves and the gang, and officially become a couple.

Let's say that you still are all over him but in a very different way.

The other guests at the Hotel start regretting the times when you two would just shout at each other incoherently.

Lots of PDA, that's the point.

Not in front of Alastor though, you don't want to risk anything.

But what's more redeeming than a really, really, really stupid love?

[trashmouth-richie]

Eddie x Fem! Reader [vol ii]

Summary: you were desperate for a roommate after Nancy got married and moved out. An ad in the paper goes unanswered until someone comes knocking on the door.

W.C 3.8k

Trigger warning: enemies to lovers trope, eventual smut, language, crude behavior, Eddie is a fucking menace 🖤 this will be a series 💋

{a/n} I probably should have added this when I originally posted it. But I’m a little dumb— anyway, this is my submission for @newlips ’s milestone of love hope you all enjoy it 💋 I truly enjoy writing and I wouldn’t be here without the support you all as readers/ fellow writers bring to me every single day! Thank you all from the bottom of my heart ♥️

He wasn’t your first option for a roommate, in fact he was so far off your radar for a potential housemate, you damn near shrieked when you saw him. But when nobody had showed up besides him to view the small two bedroom house that you were forced to sublease after your roommate got married— you didn’t have a fucking choice. It was too expensive to run another ad in the Hawkins Post and summer was coming to a close. You were fucked.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” you snarl as you throw open the door to see his stupid grin. Always too toothy, too goddamn endearing. Made your stomach bind up. “No, no way.”

Standing in all his sadistic leather glory was Eddie fucking Munson. He’s taller than he used to be, still a long haired asshole, reeking of weed and cheap deodorant. What kind of sick twisted joke is this? Did you really piss off mother karma that bad that you have to live in a separate, more fucked up layer of hell? Fuck you Dante, and your inferno. There’s not a single other person in this town who needs somewhere to stay?!

He pushes his way into your home, leaning forward with a shit eating grin, eyes hooded and winking as your lips curl in disgust. “Nice to see you too sweetheart.” He taunted. Licking his lips as he stalked past you, his filthy work boots tracking dirt onto the carpet.

“Yuck — do not— call me that,” you hissed, you stand with your hand still on the knob, not fully committing to wanting to shut the door— praying that he was some sort of a hallucination.

“You gonna show me around, or should I raid your panty drawer while you sulk?” A dimple dips into his cheeks as his stupid grin grows wider on his face.

You slam the door with a thud, “kitchen, living room, my bedroom, the other bedroom, bathroom, garage, laundry in the basement.” You’re practically shouting, as you stomp around the small space, pointing to the direction of each room, taking a grand total of twenty seconds to point everything out, not giving a fat rats ass if he was following you or not. His laugh echoes off the walls, taunting you, making your skin crawl and your ears itch. You turn around to find him quick on your heels, your face almost smashing into his grease covered work shirt.

He doesn’t move, or make any attempt to step away from you, forcing you to put the space between you both, stepping back and smoothing down your hair. His eyes kill to yours, dark swirls of muddy browns searching your own, he asks, “Why do you get the bigger room?”

The fucking audacity of this man. You could wring his neck right now and nobody would even know.

“Excuse me?” You question, peering into his chocolate eyes, waving a finger in his face, “maybe because It’s my fucking house, you’re lucky if you’ll get a room at all.”

He leans his head back with a laugh, letting it slam forward as he deadpans, creeping forward and stepping around you, waiting til he’s behind you to whisper in your ear, “I’m lucky? That ad was in the paper for over a week,” he seethes, “I bet I’m the only one who showed up to view the place, so nice try, Tooty— but you’re desperate for the cash.” He wasn’t wrong, you were desperate, the salon paid okay but Josie just upped the price on your rental chair, making your mortgage almost impossible for you to pay on your own.

“…I’m doing you a favor. So, if you want me to pay rent and utilities, then I’ll, so graciously, be taking the bigger room.” His breath fans across the back of your neck, making the hairs stand up, and goosebumps riddle your skin. You turn to face him, hands on your hips trying to show how serious you are.

“I know it took you like four times longer to graduate than anyone in United States history, but you can’t possibly be this damn dumb.” It was a cheap shot and you know it, but who does he think he is? Barging in here with demands like a fucking A list celebrity. Not today, mother fucker.

A comment that would have normally made anyone else burst into tears, or at least leave hollering ‘bitch!’ as they stomped out to their car, only fuels Eddie’s perverted fire, “Ooo, an insult and a scolding, what’s next a spankin’?”

Your hard-ass facade drops, your face faltering to one of disgust instead of stern, don’t-fuck-with-me, boss lady, “Get out, Munson.”

“Nah, I think I’ll stay.” He saunters towards the kitchen table and pulls out his wallet, of course its a chain wallet, you roll your eyes as he starts forking over an impressive amount of bills and sets them down, one by one.

“Here’s my first month, last month and deposit.”

The total is way more than what you’d even told him but you're still tongue tied from his comments, he lives for this shit and you had fallen for it—rookie mistake.

“I’ll be back in a few hours to start moving stuff in.” He smiles widely, moving towards the door, “See you then, roomie.”

His figure haunts you for the next few hours you have left of peace. His smell lingers around the house, you shove open every window you can, including the one that was painted shut by the previous owners. He was so fucking annoying. Is that supposed to be charm he was throwing at you? Fucking barf. The only thing you were feeling was rage, and that you needed to shower after feeling his breath on your skin. Lighting every scented candle you can find, Sugar cookie and beach sands will do— the smell slowly wafts out of the windows. You shower quickly, figuring better do it now than after he arrives, the dreaded walk in a towel from the bathroom to your room was something you hadn’t thought of until this second. Hot water sprays against your skin, assaultingly hot, almost blistering the skin on your back.

You are seething, raging mad. If you were a cartoon, smoke would be funneling out of your ears. Mocking him, you think of better comebacks than you had thought up earlier. Scrubbing your skin until you resembled a lobster, and angrily scratching your scalp. “What’s next a spankin?” GOD he’s so nasty, the sheer nerve of him makes you want to throw a toaster into the shower with you. Nothing a few volts can’t fix. You towel off, looking at your reflection in the mirror as you wipe away the condensation. The stress of the day slowly melted off as it was rinsed down the drain.

You’re applying your eye cream when a—loud as fuck— knock on the door shakes the walls.

“Honey, I’m home!” Eddie hollers as you peek through the glass. He’s carrying a duffle bag and a 30 pack of Busch Light. 3 smiling idiots are behind him, two passing a joint back and forth while balancing a very worn mattress, the other swaying on the sidewalk holding a guitar, most likely already drunk.

Tucking the tail end of the towel wrapped around your head into itself, you fling open the door, “Jesus Christ Eddie, will you shut up! I have neighbors you know!”

“Oooo— first fight!” One of the idiots with shaggy blonde hair preens.

Your glare could compete with lasers against his skin, prying through his epidermis and burning the vessels.

Eddie lets out a laugh, “aww sweetheart, I didn’t know you were planning a slumber party!” he says gesturing to your towel and pink robe. “Give me about 30 minutes and I’ll be braiding your hair and you can paint my nails, give me all the hot gossip!”

You turn with a huff half closing the door behind you. The gaggle of idiots roaring with laughter at Eddie’s joke.

He pushes through the door into the house, tossing his bag onto the table, knocking over the napkin holder and the stack of mail, letting out a loud sigh. He rips the thirty pack open on the side, making the beers crash to the floor. You still your eyes and cross your arms, unamused by his stupid antics. He cracks one open, slurping up the spray of suds as it puddles around his hand and down onto the carpet. He kicks a beer towards you and raises his up in triumph. “Here’s to you roomie, Home Sweet Home!”

You’re so fucked.

-

“Robin, I’m seriously going to kill him. I don’t care if I have to go to jail—anything would be better than this!” you whisper-yell into the phone, you watched Eddie and his band of misfits bring in box after box, most of his stuff was in black plastic garbage bags. They formed a line throwing the bags to one another and the last one haphazardly tossing them into his room.

“Oh relax! A hunk like him moving in and you don’t even have to pay him? You just hit the jackpot!” She giggles on the other end of the phone, smacking through her licorice.

“More like jackass with all the shit he’s moving in.”

You’re hunkered in your room, between the wall and your bed, twirling your bedroom phone cord through your fingers, “Seriously the place smells like weed so bad I’m probably getting a contact high as we speak.”

Robin lets out a throaty laugh, “Might do you some good, you’re so fucking tense all the time.”

“Sorry—” you say, twiddling the blue carpet fibers through your fingers, “I’m just stressed after Nancy moved out is all.” It wasn’t a lie, Nancy moving in was a huge relief to you, she took care of almost everything. Organizing bills, scheduling pest control when needed, she even wrote the garbage pick up days and hung it on the garage door. With her gone, this all falls on you. “What if he steals my stuff in the middle of the night and bails?”

She curses your full name, “He may be a lot of things, but a thief is not one of them—seriously you have nothing to worry about, calm your boobies!”

“Boobies!” Steve yells, joining the room Robin was in, “it’s Eddie, he’s a total nerd, you’ll be fine.”

“If he’s so great Then you can live with him Steve!”

“Nope, no can do,” he says around a mouthful of food,

“I gotta keep this clumsy oaf on a short chain”

“Oh, you’re dead Harrington.” The phone drops and all you hear is squealing and thudding of feet running around.

“Robin! Not my shampoo! ”

“Steve? Robin?” You wait in silence as the line goes dead, “Uhh!” Slamming the phone into the receiver you hear Eddie and his leather clad Barbarians holler goodbye to one another. One too many “see ya later man” ’s and you’re practically puking. You open the door to your room and poke your head out. Watching closely as Eddie tears through garbage bags, unloading heaps and heaps of clothing, an entire bag dedicated to just band shirts, another revealed bedding that was quite literally rolled up and thrown into the bag. A quick sniff test has him turning up his nose.

The kitchen is taken over by Eddie’s stuff, more bags, more boxes, a cookbook titled: The Dungeonmeister Cookbook is sitting on the stove. A stack of Burger King collectible Disney cups is cluttered around the microwave. Along with an impressive amount of neon twisty straws and a bowl with a straw connected to drink the milk.

It’s like a small child moved into your home instead of a grown ass man.

Opening the fridge to get an apple, you can’t help but notice Eddie also moved some refrigerator items with him as well. Two big bottles of hot sauce, more beer than the local bar probably holds, a half drank carton of orange juice, and a giant jar of pickles, without a lid. Huffing with annoyance you step over Eddie’s bags of shit and get a knife from the drawer to slice the apple. The loud shrill screeching of 80’s metal almost makes you cut your finger. Stomping into Eddie’s room with your fuzzy slippers you don’t bother on knocking before you look for the plug to his cassette player, unhooking it from the outlet and pointing the knife in his direction, you all but scream in his face, “I almost cut my fucking finger off! Turn it down or I’ll cut the goddamn cord!”

He’s sitting crossed legged on the floor, cassettes littering his lap, his eyes almost bored, “aww Tooty I’ll play with you in a little bit, daddy just has to get some things done first, ‘kay?”

You roll your eyes in disgust, did he seriously just refer to himself as ‘daddy’?

“God you are foul,” you retort, throwing the cord down onto the carpet and placing the knife on a nearby box, “wouldn’t surprise me if you were a dad.”

Eddie throws his head back with a chuckle, “why? You into dad bods? Listen sweetheart, my metabolism will slow down eventually, gimme three—four years max and I’ll be all gut.” He flashes his pearly whites towards you and winks.

Ignoring him completely, your nose scrunches. “Stop calling me that!” your heart is pounding in your chest fury on high, “what the hell is that?”

“That,” Eddie says batting his eyelashes, “would be my masculinity wafting from my aura to yours, why does it turn you on?”

You fold your arms over your chest, and shift your slippered feet beneath you, “Do you have a certain amount of disgusting phrases you have to get out throughout the day or are you just naturally this nauseating to be around?”

“No idea, anyway,” Eddie continues, standing to his full height and shucking off his jacket and tossing it to the ground, “I’m gonna order a pizza you want in?”

“Maybe you should finish unpacking,” you say taking a quick glance around the clothes strewn everywhere around the room, “it’s a fucking mess in here.”

Eddie leans in close eyes ghosting over your features as they gawk over your lips, “well, sweetheart, maybe if you had given me the bigger room— like I had asked for— I would have enough space to put my stuff, besides,” he says, standing up and leaning backwards to crack his back, a small trail of hair peeking out from his waistband makes your breath hitch in your throat, “I bought dressers and they’ll be delivered on Monday, so my clothes don’t have a place to go right now, unless you wanna split your closet?”

“I’d rather drop dead.”

“Aww don’t do that, far too pretty to be dead, and what would the neighbors think?” He strips off his shirt and throws it in the corner of his room, your eyes dart away but not before catching a glimpse of his pale skin.

The small tattoos he had in high school are slightly faded with time, new ones are inked down his arms, across his chest and down his side. You can’t help but notice the silver hoops pierced through his nipples as they reflect light and draw you in towards his chest. He’s lean but built, no defining abs but the muscles in his arms could be carved from a sculptor, replicating a greek statue. Surely minutes have gone by but in reality it has only been seconds, you don’t even realize he’s still talking.

“…don’t need to give the cops more of a reason to watch me more than they already do.” He drops his eyes to your face, seeing you peek at his body. A grin is plastered to his lips as they curve upwards, he stretches his arms out wide, the veins in his arms protruding further out, oh what you’d give to just touch it with your hands, your tongue— wait what?—“Shit,” he says, drifting forward, your body pulling away from him, “looks like you aren’t into dad bods after all.”

Your cheeks flare red as you stomp out of his room, his joker laugh vibrates the walls as you slam your door. Throwing yourself on the smooth purple cotton of your comforter, and screaming into your pillow.

Nobody ever got under your skin the way he is. Why are you allowing him to frustrate you this much? He’s a boob. A pimple on your ass. That annoying twitch that your eye sometimes does when you don't have enough sleep. Yes, the festering wound, the bad rash that kept coming back, the burn in your belly, the thorn in your side— is now your roommate. Fuck.

A knock on your bedroom door, brings you back to your current state of throwing a hissy fit. You launch your cup of pens that adorns your nightstand at the door.

“Does that mean you don’t like pineapple on your pizza?”

-

Thank God you showered before Eddie started unloading his stuff, because he has been in the bathroom for at least a half hour. You’re sitting on the couch, the same rough, itchy upholstery that used to take up way too much space in the Wheeler’s basement. But a $20 bill and Nancy promising her dad that she would mow the lawn for the entire summer of ‘91, and it was now yours. Karen would sigh with relief that the ugly furniture was leaving, meaning her living room would get an upgrade as their now living room furniture would find solace in the basement. No longer stinking of cheesy pizza farts and bad B.O., or screaming threats from middle school boys about the inner demons of DnD, Mrs. Wheeler would come to miss the yelling, and the rotten stench of boys running amuck in her house. Nancy parted with the under stuffed, well loved, hideous piece of furniture when she moved in with Jonathan. So now, the outdated, wagon wheel patterned couch, was all yours.

The smell of finger nail polish fills the living room as you attempt at painting your toenails a shimmery blue that you had gotten at the mall with Robin. A fuzzy navel wine cooler tucked between your legs, you’re trying hard to get it finished before a new episode of “The Nanny” comes on. Eddie is singing in the shower, loudly. You recognize the tune as “Come As You Are” by Nirvana. Not that you were admiring the way his voice sounded. You were just surprised that a twenty six year old weirdo actually knew good music. The doorbell rings, snapping you out of, yet again, another strange spiral of thinking about Eddie Munson.

“Eddie!” You holler from the living room, “door.”

“Money’s in my wallet, just pay the dude quick and I’ll be out in a minute.” He yells back from the shower.

“Eddie, I’m busy— get the fuck out here and do it yourself.” There is no way you are walking around with wet toenails, what the hell was he thinking?

“I’m in the middle of washing my ba— “

“Alright! Fine!” You walk on your heels to the door, opening it quick to find a Hawkins High student in a red hat with the pizza logo on it.

“That’ll be $19.50,” he says with a less than enthused remark.

“Hang on,” walking back to the bathroom on heeled feet you knock on the door, “where’s your wallet?” you ask in a hurry through the door.

“Uh, my jeans I think,” Eddie yells back. You cross into Eddie’s room, looking around the mess he made, realizing the only thing he managed to make an attempt at organizing was his never ending cassettes, a few records, and an old record player. Posters decorated every wall. Metallica, Nirvana, Judas Priest, Black Sabbath, and White Zombie. The clothes were piled high in a mountain of leather, flannel and white cotton socks. Not a single pair of jeans that you could see. His bed sat on the ground, cluttered with notebook papers, dice, and tightly rolled joints.

“Eddie!” You yell from his room, “where the hell are your jeans?”

A chuckle echoes in the bathroom, muffled slightly by the spray of the shower head, “they’re in here, sweetheart.” His voice dripped with smugness and sweet notes of laughter.

Fuck it, we don’t need pizza. I can eat cereal. I’ll just tell the pizza kid to leave and Eddie can fend for himself. Fuck this.

“Tooty?” He calls from the shower, enunciating every syllable. “Come on,” he sings, laughing to himself, “I promise I’ll stay behind the curtain. You won’t see a thing— unless of course— you want to.”

You barge through the door, fumbling through Eddie’s jeans pockets, finding the black leather of his chain wallet and yanking out $25. An idea crosses your mind and you can’t help but go through with it. A flick of the lights had Eddie cursing every word imaginable as he was cast into darkness.

Thrusting cash into pimple head’s hand and shutting the door, you walk into the kitchen to get some plates. Eddie emerges from the bathroom. His hair is dripping in long strands, and your robe is wrapped right around his body, barely covering his southern region. The pink terry cloth material lined with lace looking absolutely ridiculous on his tattoo covered body.

Oh— this mother fucker.

“Are you seriously wearing my robe?” You ask, hands on your hips, nails digging into the cotton pajama shorts you’re wearing.

Eddie does a spin and swings his hips in a circular motion, his dick swinging like a helicopter.

“Well sweetheart, when you so rudely turned the lights off on me, I was forced to find the first thing I could to dry off with, and besides— you can’t deny how good I look,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows, smiling the widest smile you had ever seen from him.

A lump of anger and sheer rage catches in your throat, “you’re repulsive,” you say, turning away from him and tossing pizza onto plates.

“And you,” Eddie says sliding beside you, his breath fanning your cheek, the cold drops of water from his curls pressing into your shoulder as he grabs a greasy slice of pizza straight from the box, “are extremely uptight.” The whites of his teeth bite into the cheesy triangle and chew loudly as he smacks his lips, licking the orange grease from his lips.

Anger boils in your belly, filling your veins with agitation so thick they’re bound to clog up. “I. Am. Not. Uptight,” you seethe through clenched teeth, and closed eyes.

“Yeah, sure sure,” Eddie says, mouth full of pizza, and his eyebrows raised, “whatever you say.”

You weren’t always this high strung. But having everything ripped away from you, would make anyone pretty goddamn bitter to the lemonade life had to offer.

vol ii

volume ii

A/N: thank you to everyone for reading this and continuing to support my crazy ideas. Thank you to everyone I had beta this story—@agentmarvel @pinkrelish + @sweetsweetjellybean you all push me to be a better writer and I am forever grateful for that ♥️♥️🖤💋

Taglist: @luna-munson83 @tlclick73 @idkidknemore @joejoequinnquinn @newlips (omg, they were roommates)

[torialefay]

You Know Whose You Are 👀

hyunjin x gn!reader smut

✨ friends to lovers trope 🔞

✨ request: "Hi!! For your smut prompts can I pls request Hyunjin & 24 (Hyunjin being the jealous one)? Maybe enemies to lovers or friends to lovers scenario? And for the actual p-in-v part can he fck reader holding her up against the wall (like her back against the wall and legs around his waist position)? Sorry if this is a lot, I’m on my period and I’m having many specific thoughts lmao. Thank you!! 🥰🤍" -anon

✨ word count: ~3.5k

✨ warnings: porn with a plot; minors dni!

• you and hyunjin had become close friends quite a while ago.

• he quickly became one of your closest friends after you'd met him in a bookstore after first arriving to korea.

• while keeping your eyes fixated on the rows of books next to you, you accidentally ran straight into his chest.

• after quickly apologizing to him, you both struck up a conversation about your favorite books & authors. you had no clue who he was, and he liked that about you.

• a real friend.

• since that day, you'd messaged back and forth a lot, hung out almost on a routine basis, and made lots of fun memories.

• after a while, you eventually found out he was an idol (it was bound to happen with his weird "work schedule" he always had), but it didn't matter. he was the same hyunjinnie that you'd built a solid friendship with over the past few weeks.

• but that was the problem- you didn't want it to be just a friendship.

• and who could blame you? hyunjin was the most amazing, kind, intelligent person you'd ever met. you had more in common with him than even your very best friend. it was only natural to develop those feelings for him.

• but you knew the feelings weren't reciprocated.

• he'd never made so much as a subtle hint that he was interested in you as more than a friend... and let's be honest, he was basically the most wanted guy in all of korea. how could you compete with all these other beautiful people?

• so you didn't even let your mind wander to that extreme. you accepted the fact that he'd be nothing more than a friend to you, no matter how much you knew it could have worked out.

• "my best friend", you'd learned to teasingly call him. and soon, even you started to believe it. only that.

• one day, you'd gone over to hyunjin's apartment. he mentioned that he wanted to repaint the walls in the living room, so you offered up some of your free time to help him out.

• it wasn't super often that you came to his apartment. only a couple of times. you'd usually only gone out to do things together like go to a new art gallery or to grab coffee and talk about life. cutesy little things.

• you weren't the most familiar with his apartment, but that didn't matter much as you quickly settled in. you placed your phone in the kitchen to blare music, then headed to the living room to help coat the walls with a fresh set of paint.

• it did take a bit longer than you thought, but you didn't mind. when you and hyunjin were together, you always had fun, taking little jabs at each other and laughing to funny stories you had. the time always seemed to melt away.

• after a couple of hours, your playlist turned off. you guessed it had run out of songs.

• "jinnie, could you get a new playlist going on my phone?" you held your hands up, covered in paint. "i think it'd take me a while to do it."

• he laughed, realizing how messy you were compared to him.

• he didn't need to say anything, just got up and walked over to the kitchen, which was only a few steps away.

• as he went to tap the screen, a notification popped up... from one of hyunjin's life-long friends.

• the two of you had met a week or so ago when hyunjin invited him to go to a poetry reading with the two of you. his friend, ha-joon, wasn't necessarily as into the activity as the two of you were, but hyunjin felt bad canceling his original plans with him when he'd found out the event was happening and really wanted to go.

• and now... he was texting you?

• he read the message as it splayed across the screen:

Ha-Joon: Excited to see you tomorrow :) What are you doing?

• it's not that you were very enamored by ha-joon when you first met, but he seemed like a nice enough guy. plus he was friends with jinnie, so you figured he couldn't be too bad. when he messaged to ask if you'd be interested in going out with him, you thought you'd give it a shot. it's not like you had any other romantic prospects.

• "what's your password? i'll flip to a different playlist," hyunjin raised his voice, trying to act non-chalant. he silently thanked the fact that he was just out of sight.

• "2-7-4-4-1-2" you said back to him.

• he quickly scrolled through the playlists and chose one, letting the music blast through the speaker once again.

• "i'm gonna get a drink, do you want one?" hyunjin lied, going to open up the messages on your phone.

• "yeah, i'll take a water if that's okay?"

• "sure, i'll get it in just a sec." he started to sound nervous as he clicked to ha-joon's name on your phone. dang, texts going back to the beginning of the week. he quickly scrolled through to find quite a few message exchanged between the two of you. he scrolled back to the conversation that started last night.

Ha-joon: This might be a little bold, but I'd really like to get to know you more. Not just through texting. Would you want to grab a coffee sometime? Just you and me?

Sure! That'd be really fun :)

Ha-joon: Are you free sometime tomorrow?

I'm not really sure yet. I'm going to help Hyunjin paint. How about we just plan for the next day?

Ha-joon: Sounds good to me!

Ha-joon: Hyunjin will be okay with this, right? With us meeting up?

I don't see why not. He'd probably be happy about introducing us!

Ha-joon: Okay, I just didn't know if I should let him know or not is all.

Ahh that's okay. I don't think we need to rope him into any of this unless things go well between us ☺️

Good plan. I'm excited to see you!

Same here :) Text me tomorrow and let me know where you want to meet up.

Will do! Sleep well 😊

• hyunjin felt his heart break. he knew he had no right to. but he couldn't help it.

• of course he harbored feelings for you. how could he not fall for the one girl he ever felt like truly "got" him?

• but he hadn't wanted to tell you. not yet. he didn't want you to think that was the only reason he kept hanging out with you. he genuinely LOVED being around you. he was himself when he was with you. and he was so scared he'd lose that if he told you.

• but he hadn't said anything. so he couldn't be upset.

• he mentally kicked himself for introducing you to ha-joon.

• he thought on it for a bit as he reached into the fridge to grab a bottle of water for you. he quickly exited out of the app as he rested your phone back on the table to play the music.

• the upbeat tunes coming out completely mismatched what he was feeling in the moment.

• he stood for a moment, then walked back to the living room, where he saw you sitting cutely on the floor, knees bent criss-crossed as you painted the bottom of the wall carefully.

• suddenly, he started to think about how lucky he felt with this sight in front of him. and how he didn't want another man to be able to see you like this: hair tied up, sitting contently on the floor, completely covered in paint, looking so happy just to be there while bopping your head to the beat without a worry in the world.

• he wanted that. he wanted you. and suddenly, he saw red.

• he leaned against the door frame, now subconsciously squeezing the bottle of water in his hand.

• "y/n, can you come over here for a minute?" he said, voice now full of authority. his face looked annoyed, as he looked off, not able to focus his eyes on you.

• you looked at him confused for a moment, then carefully stood up, walking over to him wondering what was wrong all of a sudden.

• "what is it?" you asked, looking up at him innocently. you could tell something had him deeply bothered.

• his jaw clicked for a moment before he finally looked at you.

• "why didn't you tell me you were going out with my best friend?"

• the question caught you off guard.

• "were you going through my phone?" you asked. you didn't mean to sound accusatory, but that's how it came out.

• "i didn't mean to, but there it was." he looked down at you, not backing down.

• "i mean, yeah, he invited me to get coffee... is it a big deal? i thought you'd be happy if maybe we started seeing each other."

• "well, i'm not."

• "look jinnie, i'm sorry. maybe i should have told you, but i didn't think you'd care. surely he's a good person if he's your friend. and i'd like to think i'm a good person, so it just-" suddenly, he cut you off.

• "it's not about being a good person, y/n!" he began to raise his voice. "what about me?!"

• "what about you?" you asked, voice full of confusion.

• "i like you, goddamn it! give me a chance, not him!" he was full on yelling now, pressing himself up against you. suddenly, you felt small, but so fucking smitten at the same time. hyunjin actually liked you? this whole time?

• your head started spinning. it was just... it was a lot. you began to slowly move back from him a bit.

• "jinnie... i don't... i don't know what to say."

• he followed your path, pushing his body forward toward yours. you were about to be trapped in against the freshly painted wall behind you. you had no where else to go without ruining the wall.

• "say you'll let me take you out. not him." his eyes were trying to tell you something, but you couldn't quite pinpoint what. you'd never seen him like this.

• "i can't just do that to him... i mean he's your friend and i don't want to make things weird and i didn't know you even thought about me-" you were just rambling at this point before hyunjin cut you off.

• "i don't give a fuck if he's my friend. i wanted you first." he pushed his body right against yours, your front feeling him completely. he aligned his face perfectly in front of yours.

• "for how long?" you asked meekly.

• "since i first saw you." he let his eyes wander down to look at your lips before coming back up to focus on your eyes.

• being so close to you, he lightly closed his eyes, letting his lips linger next to you. "give me a chance first. if you don't like it, you can go to him... but i want you more than he does. i promise you that."

• goose bumps popped up along your skin. you couldn't believe he was actually into you. it was actually such a shock, you almost didn't even let your mind think on it. you'd wanted it so bad and suppressed it for so long. you didn't even know what to think. so you remained quiet, just pondering on what you could say.

• "let me show you," he whispered into your ear, getting too impatient to wait for your response. "let me show you how good i could be to you."

• again, you couldn't muster up words. you were so shell-shocked, you didn't even know where to start.

• he leaned into your ear, his breath hot over top of you.

• seductively, he whispered into you, "just tell me to stop," before planting a slow kiss to the side of your neck, at the sensitive spot right below your ear.

• you let out a slight moan at the unexpected sensation. you felt the hairs on your body start to stand up.

• hyunjin smiled and moved his small kisses along your jaw and cheek, then planting straught onto your lips.

• he wasted no time in deepening the kiss, running his hands through your hair until he was holding the back of your head in one hand and squeezing your jaw with the other. he wanted full control of you.

• he moaned as you slipped your tongue into his mouth, giving him access to enter inside your mouth too.

• as you smiled into him, he walked you back until you were pressed up against the wet wall. to hell with it.

• you continued grappling at each other, shoving tongues down throats like horny teenagers. you couldn't help it. this was all you'r ever wanted.

• until you started feeling hyunjin slightly buck his hips into yours. you felt his bulge grind the tiniest bit against you, turning you on with the gentlest touch.

• he let out a small chuckle as you moaned at the sensation.

• he kept sucking on your tongue, harder and harder as he more fervently grinded himself into you. you could feel him getting rock hard against you. and fuck did it feel so good. you couldn't help but pant, and run your hands along his body, desperate to grapple onto whatever you could.

• you pulled on his collar, pushed your hand up his shirt to run along his abdomen, tugged on his waist band- anything and everything you could cling to in order to feel closer to him.

• and he reciprocated fully. he moved his hand around your jaw to secure your face down against the wall, pinning you back hard. his mouth never disconnected from yours as he used his other hand to run along your body. down your neck, around your boobs, down your stomach, down to wear he ground against you, hoping to make brief contact with you before taking his hand around your waist to grab your ass.

• you moaned loudly as he shoved his tongue deep into your mouth and grabbed a handful of your ass with a harsh squeeze. the slight pain felt too fucking good to not yell out about.

• your noises only agged him on more.

• he pulled his mouth off of yours for a split moment.

• "let me take these off?" he asked hungrily, pulling at the top of your leggings.

• you didn't have to respond, you quickly yanked the fabric down, along with your underwear and ripped them from your feet and to the side.

• he smiled down at the sight, loving how willing you were to give into him.

• he connected his mouth back to yours as he followed suit and hastily unbuttoned and slid down his pants and boxers.

• when he was done, he grunted as he felt himself now unclothed, finally getting some friction against you.

• you couldn't contain yourself as you heard him grunt for you. you quickly pulled your hand up to your mouth, spitting into it quickly before bringing it back down to stroke hyunjin's cock.

• "ah fuck," he let out, letting himself grow harder and harder. this was the hardest he'd ever been.

• a wave of aggression came over him as he started to feel territorial. he brought a hand around your neck to give it a tight squeeze.

• "faster," he instructed. he reached his hand down to toy with you too, slowly working up pace.

• you felt yourself becoming more deprived of oxygen as you pumped your hand along him, going down to his tip. when he wasn't satisfied, he rested his forehead on yours and began thrusting his cock into your hand, throwing out grunts as he went. he kept working at your hole until you were lightheaded and writhing underneath him.

• he smiled and let out a little laugh as he released the pressure from your neck to let you gasp for air. you felt light-headed and needed to come back down. but hyunjin didn't let up.

• "let me fuck you." it was more of a demand than a question, but you didn't fight it. you slowly nodded from underneath him.

• he swiftly rand both hands down to your waist and then around your ass until they were resting behind your thighs.

• "jump," he instructed.

• you weren't sure about this. you'd never done it before. you were scared you'd fall and ruin the moment, but you decided to just put your trust into it. pushing your back against the wall, you threw your legs up as he guided them and secured them in place around his hips. he made sure to support the rest of you by keeping your back pressed tight to the wall.

• he used one hand to guide his dick to your entrance before steadily thrusting himself inside. it took your breath away at the sudden stretch and feeling of him inside of you. he didn't give you very much time to settle into it though as he started to fuck into you. hard and steady.

• his hand came back up to support under your thighs, securing you on top of him and pushing you back so your head was almost slamming into the wall as he pounded into you.

• you felt so good around him. so tight. squeezing onto him for dear life.

• he hungrily brought his mouth to your next as he sent fast, angry strokes into your. he guided his tongue around, planting sloppy kisses and fast, violent bites that made you scream out. he fucking loved it. he wanted to hear you scream. make you forget about any other man.

• "that's right baby, scream for me. you know whose you are," he growled. he was fucking you so hard you thought you'd pass out from the overstimulation of it all.

• you kept moaning for him, not knowing how to do anything else.

• before too long, you felt yourself start to pant harder, feeling hyunjin hit just the right spot. you started to grow warm inside, getting your breath taken away with each pounding.

• "jinnie," you breathed out, finally opening your eyes to see him with his eyes hyper focused on you, like he was ready to attack at any moment.

• you could only breathe heavily before repeating his name again. "jinnie, i'm gonna cum." you felt yourself reach a breaking point. it was coming. now.

• "that's fucking right. you're gonna cum for me right now... it's just me from now on. only me." he growled, fucking himself into you faster. "cum on me right fucking now!" he ordered, ramming into just the right spot to send you over the edge.

• you gasped as you threw your head back, beginning to spasm around his cock.

• "ahhh fuckkkkk, just like that," hyunjin mimicked you, throwing his head back now too. "fuck, fuck, fuck," he breathed out, slamming into you faster than ever.

• "ughhhhhhhhh," he yelled as you felt him release inside of you. you could feel yourself still shaking around him, not being given any sort of break.

• as he finished out his high, you wiped at the few tears that had built up in your eyes from the overstimulation.

• once hyunjin was done, he slowly lowered your legs off of his hips and set them back down on the floor, keeping his cock resting inside of you as he put you down.

• with you both now panting and trying to settle down, he just brought both hands up to cradle the sides of your face. he pushed himself a bit deeper inside of you, just enjoying the feeling of resting within you.

• he smiled down as he planted a soft kiss to your forehead.

• you smiled back up at him, placing your hands on his chest over his heart.

• "i think this is how we're meant to be," hyunjin said in a low voice.

• "i think so too," you grinned.

• he kept planting tiny kisses onto the same spot of your forehead. "tell me you aren't still going with him tomorrow."

• "of course not. i know whose i am." you gave him a quick wink.

-------------------------------------

✨ if you enjoyed, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging <3

✨ head over to my masterlist for more!

[hannieehaee]

Svt as tropes

seventeen as tropes

content: crushes, fluff, some of these are idol!aus (as in the member is an idol, not reader), etc.

wc: 884

a/n: these are just tropes that come to mind when i think of each member. i tried to keep it varied and original <3

masterlist

seungcheol -

enemies to lovers - he seems like he can be maybe a lil bit cocky at times (with reason, i mean have you seen him ..), so i think itd be possible to start off the wrong foot with him. he's also pretty stubborn, so pair with him another stubborn individual and you have a dragged out love story that begins with rivals and ends with a very fiery relationship.

jeonghan -

coworkers to lovers - jeonghan seems like an extremely charming and interesting guy who doesnt even have to try. im 100% sure people who work around him fall for him every single day. i think he'd be very entertained by the idea of crushing on a staff member/coworker. it would make him look forward to work and make him always seek you out while on the job.

joshua -

childhood friends to lovers - he seems the type that would keep a special someone in his heart for a very long time, even if it was just as friends. leaving his home country so young, the distance would make him realize his feelings and end up with that one special person from back home.

jun -

arranged marriage - okay not exactly arranged marriage but more so him being with someone his parents introduce him to! he seems to be a huge family oriented guy, so i see him ending up with someone his parents may have thought would be perfect for him. it'd start off as him giving it a chance to please his parents but ending up actually falling for this person.

soonyoung -

sunshine vs. grump - this concept isnt necessarily 100% black and white to me. but still i think maybe he would fall for someone who has a very contrasting personality his very positive and over the top demeanor. he'd enjoy the back and forth in which he'd act ridiculously to get his s/o to react while they pretended to be annoyed by him.

wonwoo -

long distance - idk if this is a trope ?? but i think wonwoo's love absolutely transcends any and every obstacle imaginable. i think he would be the definition of distance makes the heart grow fonder. he would cherish every single moment he got to be with you, constantly yearning for you any second he was away from you.

jihoon -

opposites attract - as someone who seems to keep to himself a lot and is a bit of a homebody, i think he would easily fall for someone who got him out of his comfort zone and got him to discover parts of himself he didnt know about before. would adore an s/o who was louder in nature and livelier, feeling some sort of nurturing sense in him come out whenever he was around them.

seokmin -

friends to lovers - its a classic for a reason! i cant understand how people dont constantly fall for seokmin but im 100% sure that if he had a crush on a friend of his, he would easily be able to charm them enough for them to reciprocate the crush. there would be a period of time of that cute back and forth in which he tried to 'court' them, ending up together in the end.

mingyu -

chance encounter - watching nana tour ive loved seeing how insanely outgoing and likable by strangers he is so i think that he would be the type to incidentally meet a person and subsequently fall for them. however, mingyu is a hopeless romantic so he wouldnt allow for this to be his one and only meeting. he would go to hell and back to reconnect.

minghao -

language barrier - ok ik this isnt actually a trope but i really do see minghao taking interest in a person who doesnt speak his language. i think that if a foreigner (in this case someone who does not speak korean or chinese) caught his attention, he would not be deterred by the language barrier and still seek them out. he would maybe even be more intrigued by the concept of communicating despite the barrier.

seungkwan -

found family - seungkwan is one of the sweetest and most likable people alive. im sure there's tons of people out there who consider him part of their found family. i think he'd be the type to become super close with that special someone (to the point of considering them as precious as his own family) only to eventually fall for them (and have them fall right back bc i mean its boo so how would you not fall for him!).

vernon -

class difference - i really see him falling for someone who's not in the industry. just someone who is an average person with an average life. this would obviously come with its complications, but i think he would enjoy the contrast between your lives and would live a regular life through your own.

chan -

mutual pining - contrary to popular opinion, i believe chan has insane rizz. however! i think he would be the type to have negative rizz when he has a crush on someone. he's still impossible to not fall for though, so this would lead to him and his future s/o to pine for each other for years, not realizing that their friendship could be more if one of then would just step up and confess.

[ovaryacted]

Insoportable

Summary: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader. Miguel couldn’t stand you, the more you refused to listen to him and his orders, the closer he got to snapping. After another failed mission, he’s had enough, and takes it upon himself to put you in your place.

Warnings: 18+/MDNI. NSFW. Porn with plot. Dom/sub elements, throat/face fucking, degradation & praise, slight size kink, slight choking, rough sex, bare backing, mention of fluids.

WC: 5.2k

A/N: Took me a while to write this but I hope it’s enjoyable. Originally was an enemies to lovers plot but it’s more of a passionate stress relief type thing, I’ll do actual enemies to lovers/hate sex another time. For the record, I speak Spanish, so the Spanish you see in this piece is how I’d personally speak. Title is also in Spanish lolz. :)

You were insufferable, a nuisance every time you walked in the room or were in close proximity to Miguel. A firecracker that hated following orders or being told what to do. He didn’t even know how you managed to last this long as a spider-person or why you were chosen to become one since you behaved so recklessly. In his mind, you were a hazard to have on his elite strike force, but Jess was the one that convinced him you would be a good addition to the team. That was a few months ago, and he continues to figure out whether or not having you around was a good or bad thing. So far, it was definitely leaning towards bad.

You never listened to him, often going off on your own on missions or making small mistakes that would throw him off. It was almost as if you enjoyed seeing him upset, making it harder to tolerate you and leading to more arguments. The constant bickering and fighting was a daily occurrence, a game of pull and push to see who would make the other crack, and usually, it was you pushing Miguel to his limits.

This was how your relationship was, if he can even say you guys had one, and he still remembers how your eyes gleamed with mischief when you were introduced to the Spider Society. At first glance, he comes off as intimidating, even scary with his size and demeanor alone. But with you? It was the complete opposite, like your ego was as big as him and then some. He couldn’t understand why you didn’t take him seriously.

Of course, today was no different.

“This isn’t how we organized this!”, Miguel yelled at you from the other side of the street, climbing up one of the buildings to catch up to your rapid swinging.

Currently, you were tracking down a lizard variant that Miguel had ordered you to capture and bring back to HQ. It was intended to be a solo mission, but instead of listening to him the first time around, you brought your newest friend Hobie to keep you company. As if the brunette’s stress couldn’t get any worse, seeing you two together creating havoc across the multiverse blew his blood pressure through the roof. The second you joined his team, you and Hobie instantly clicked, becoming almost inseparable when you met each other. Two rebels, two people who hated authority were brought together by fate. If Hobie’s anarchist tendencies were bad then, they’re worse now, and it only wore poor Miguel out knowing that headache number one found its match.

The variant from Earth-374 was tracked down in the sewer system, both you and your favorite rockstar managing to slow it down and trap it in one of the underground tunnels using your webbing. In celebration, you stopped by to get hot dogs, feeling you deserved a break and cheering at a job well done. Excitedly, you reported back to Miguel of your successful capture, hoping that maybe for once, he wouldn’t look at you with such dismay. Only when it was time for him to come to retrieve the anomaly, he was dumbfounded to see traces of webbing and no lizard. It escaped right under your grasp, your clumsy mistake of not securing them properly and forgetting to set up the sensors caused this to happen. You could practically see the tick in Miguel’s jaw as he all but looked at you in vexation.

Now you were attempting to amend your mistake with Miguel and Hobie alongside you, chasing the creature down through the streets of an alternate New York City. Despite both of them being there to help you, you still managed to go off on your own.

“I almost have it! Just let me get this!”, you called back to Miguel, distancing yourself from the other two as you launched your body towards the reptile underneath you. Miguel constantly called you out on this, how you always put yourself in danger instead of actively trying to get away from it. Your spider-senses were the same as everyone else’s, yet you behaved as if you didn’t use them half of the time, enjoying the thrill of being put in such precarious situations.

Hobie followed your lead while Miguel continued to grumble under his breath. You landed on the lizard’s back, shooting your webs to cover their eyes and blind them momentarily. They thrashed around the bustling streets, scaly skin rough against your feet and sharp claws reaching out to grab you.

A backflip here, another dodge and curve of your body there, you landed on top of the lizard’s head. They snarled when you shot another array of webs at their jaw, creating a makeshift lead and pulling upwards. In the mayhem of the chase, Miguel shot his own red webbing at its feet, yanking backwards and watching the mutated reptile slam into the concrete face first. Hobie mimicked the larger man’s actions, the both of them working in tandem to bring the lizard down to the ground and secure it thoroughly. You busied yourself with webbing its mouth shut, taking extra care to ensure you wouldn’t repeat your initial mistake.

Even if this was considered a personal redemption, you didn’t have the time to recover your breath before Miguel was on you again, his tone harsh and condescending.

“Do you have any idea what the hell you just did? How many times do I have to tell you to do things the way I say?!”, Miguel spat out, scolding you as if you were a child that lacked common sense.

“We still caught them no? The damage isn’t so bad”, you said stubbornly, putting your hands on your hips and looking up at Miguel defensively. From the way the outline of the eyes on his mask curved downward, you could tell he was irked. Perhaps this was his last straw with you.

“You destroyed half of the damn city! Are you really this stupid and hasty?”, he said almost exasperatingly. No matter how hard you tried to talk to him, Miguel never listened. He always wanted things done his way, and he just couldn’t stand the fact that you never saw him through.

“I wouldn’t be this hasty if you would just get off my back! You’re always so uptight!”

“This conversation isn’t over, you hear me?”, he hovered above you, not wanting to prolong this argument any longer. Messing with the buttons on his watch and opening a portal back to H.Q., he entrapped the lizard variant and threw them through the bright colors of the interdimensional opening. He took one last glance at you before walking through, leaving you and Hobie behind as you sighed and looked down at your feet.

“I messed up, didn’t I?”, you asked Hobie, who started walking towards the portal with you close behind.

“Nah, it’s not that bad. The big man will get over it”, he said with a shrug, tone of voice slightly teasing and doing nothing to calm your nerves.

You only silently hoped that Hobie was right.

-

Miguel exhaled with his fingers pressed against the bridge of his nose, breathing through his nostrils as he tried to regain some peace of mind. After today’s fiasco of a mission, he called you and Hobie back to his lab to discuss it. Whether it was just to talk or simply yell at you again for your failure, you were about to find out.

“Miguelito, you’re going to pop a vein at this rate with the way you’re stressing out,” you teased, looking over at the very agitated Spider-Man.

Oh, he hated that. He loathed how easily the nickname slipped past your lips whenever you antagonized him. You always found more ways to get under his thick skin, and this was one of the things you did from your long list that seemed to upset him the most.

“Dios dame paciencia”, Miguel muttered under his breath, huffing and puffing as he paced around.

“I lied before, he’s definitely pissed at you now”, Hobie said next to you, smugly glancing between you and your mutual boss from the corner of his eye.

“It’s not so bad, I swear”, you put your hands up in fake innocence, and Miguel just chuckled dryly under his breath.

“You’re joking right? You let the anomaly go because you weren’t paying attention, and I have to clean up after your mistakes, again”, Miguel turned his back to face you, red eyes looking at you fiercely.

“Okay, I may have done that, but we caught them right after. What’s the big deal?”, you said, shrugging, which only seemed to tick Miguel off more, feeling his shoulders tense and his left eye beginning to twitch.

“And that’s my cue to leave. Good luck, mate”, Hobie says, saluting you and leaving you to face Miguel’s wrath alone.

“What’s the big deal? You just don’t get it, do you? You’re always so careless, you never listen to me, and then you act oblivious when you mess up. How the hell are you even a spider-person?”, Miguel retorted, stepping closer to you as an act of intimidation, but it didn’t affect you much. You held your ground while he walked forward until he stood right in front of you, looking down as if you were merely a pest.

“I still do my job, don’t I? You’re stressing out over nothing, and you don’t have to be breathing down my neck all the time if you’d just let me do my own thing. The multiverse is still safe Miguelito, lighten up!”

“Stop fucking calling me that! God, you annoy the shit out of me I can’t stand you.”

“I’m aware of that, you remind me every day!”, you countered defiantly, and Miguel was on the brink of losing his last nerve.

“Coño, for once, will you just shut the fuck up!”, he yelled now, reaching an arm out to wrap his hand around your throat, holding you in place instinctively as you gasped.

He wasn’t choking you, his fingers not daring to tighten around your neck but acting as a placeholder. He bent down the slightest bit, whispering in your ear with a tone of voice that was borderline threatening.

“You’re a pain in my ass, an ungrateful brat, and I don’t know if you get on my nerves on purpose, but you’re going to learn to stop fucking with me like a plaything. ¿Entiendes?”, Miguel snarled, his lips grazing the outer shell of your ear. This you weren’t expecting, your mind short-circuiting as your breath hitched at his words.

Miguel pulled away, his hands still around your neck while he stared down at you. He was taking in your reaction, watching how your breathing increased, your eyes were filled with a curiosity he hadn’t seen from you, and he could practically feel your pulse pounding against his thumb that pressed into your skin.

He was trying to figure out the sudden change in your demeanor, half expecting you to say some sassy remark back to him, but nothing came out of your mouth. If anything, you seemed to like this.

“Ah, so that’s what it is? You’re a brat on purpose?”, he smirked then, finding your sudden silence amusing. “You think you’re hot shit, acting all defiant around me when in reality, you need to be put in your place.”

Your cheeks blushed, both confused and aroused at the sudden change in the dynamic between you two. Have you thought about Miguel like this? Sure, once or twice. But the big scary Spider-Man was a tough nut to crack, so instead, you compromised for teasing. There was no way he would act out on those very sudden desires, right? Right?

Oh how wrong you were.

“You put up a show all the time when you just want some attention. Ain’t that right, muñeca?”, Miguel said, leaning his face closer to yours so the tips of your noses barely touched. He was teasing you, playing with the idea of giving you something you didn’t even know you would crave. His grip tightened around your neck the slightest bit, bringing your attention back to him when he spoke again, “I asked you a question, answer me.”

“Y-Yes”, you stuttered, the neurons in your brain working just enough to formulate one word. At this rate, you could feel your body warming up with how Miguel spoke to you. It felt taboo to be in this situation right now, but some part of you wanted to indulge in this small fantasy.

“Hmmm, maybe I’ll remind you where you belong so you can stop acting out. You want that?”, Miguel’s voice was playful now, noticing how your blush intensified the closer he leaned down. One of his hands reached for your hip, bringing you closer to him while the other stayed on your neck, your jaw tilting up towards him. It was an invitation, a calling for a kiss, or whatever else he may have in mind.

“Fuck, yes”, you found yourself saying a bit too quickly, your brain telling you to just shut up and listen to him for once, to relieve whatever tension the both of you have developed for so long. Miguel took one last look into your eyes before he closed the distance between you two, his mouth meeting yours with force.

Your lips meddled together in a flurry of need, a mess of tongue and teeth as you both forgone all sense of professionalism. These weren’t the lovely, soft kisses one would expect from someone they’d been pining after. They were possessive and dominating. Miguel’s grip on your hip tightened, pinning you to his body as you stood chest to chest. He practically loomed over you, needing to crane your neck up to kiss him properly. You moaned when his tongue slipped between your lips, grazing the roof of your mouth and curling around your own. The hand wrapped around your neck slipped from its grasp to cradle your jaw, stroking your cheek in a way that opposed the harsh kisses he gave you.

When Miguel pulled away for a breath, your face was slightly flushed with plush lips to match. His thumb caressed your bottom lip, pressing into it and looking at you with newfound desire. He sighed when your lips closed around it, sucking it into your mouth gently and tracing the bottom of his digit with your soft tongue.

“You just need something in your mouth to be good right?”, he smirked, pressing the pad of his thumb on the middle of your tongue as you hummed against him with a nod. The red in his eyes darkened, watching you stare at him in desire. Miguel chuckled, taking his thumb out of your mouth and stepping away from you slightly with a toothy grin on his face.

“Let’s see if you can do more with your mouth than just piss me off”, he grunted, his voice dropping an octave as he pushed you down to your knees in front of him. If you thought Miguel looked big before, he looked much larger in comparison now, the shadow of his body swallowing you whole.

You looked up at him needily, your attention diverting to the bulge hidden underneath his spider suit. Mouth watering at the sight, your eyes widened when part of his suit disappeared in pixelated bits, his hard cock bouncing towards your cheek. An unintentional gasp slipped out of you, biting your bottom lip and rubbing your thighs together as your lower gut bubbled in warmth. Now you know why Miguel acted the way he did, why he was so hard to handle at times. His words and size matched the rest of him, big and intense all around.

“Don’t be scared of it”, you heard Miguel say mockingly, bringing you out of your admiring trance. You could tell despite his dominating demeanor, he wanted to be touched, his cock almost pulsing in front of you.

“Who said I was scared?”, you taunted back, grinning when you saw the same annoyed look Miguel does that seemed reserved for just you.

“You want to prove me wrong? Go ahead then”, his hand went to your hair, grabbing it in his fist as he felt you caressing his tip in light kisses. He sighed when your lips moved under the base of his shaft, kissing the prominent veins that pulsated against your warm mouth. It took everything in him not to thrust into your face, but he knew what you were doing, playing with him even when he was the one in control.

Your breath hitched again when your head was yanked back, ogling him as you saw how pent up he was, how badly he wanted you.

“Don’t fucking tease me. Now open wide baby”, he muttered, putting both of his hands on your head to get any flyaway hairs out of your face. He wanted to burn this picture into his memory, taking in the view of you having his dick down your throat for the first time.

Slowly, your lips wrapped around his member, encasing him in your hot mouth as you relaxed your jaw to take more of him. You didn’t know if you would be able to take all of him at once, but you sure as hell were gonna try. Breathing in through your nose, you moved further down, feeling more of him resting against your tongue before deciding that was enough for now.

With a gentle tug of your hair, you pulled back, moving your head over him while one of your hands went to his thighs for support. Your other hand held him at the base, jerking the rest of his cock that couldn’t fit. He groaned shamelessly, letting you have a small bit of control as your tongue traced over the underside of his length. It felt good, better than he imagined, and he couldn’t help but close his eyes to immerse himself in the pleasure.

You hollowed your cheeks out, bobbing your head harder while taking more of him into your mouth. Tasting the saltiness of his precum against your tongue, you moaned around him, his fingers tightening around your head as you kept working over him, not caring for the slight tingling in your jaw.

“Knew you were good at this”, Miguel mumbled, his fangs digging into his bottom lip as he watched you. You looked almost precious to him, your hand growing slick with saliva along with the rest of him, your lips pinker than usual. He couldn’t help himself, grabbing the top of your head and thrusting towards your face.

You choked a bit at the action, the sudden intrusion forcing him all the way down the base of your throat until he pulled his hips back. He did it again, pushing your face against his pelvis until your nose rubbed into the soft brown curls against his skin.

“See how pretty you look when your mouth is shut? Just get your throat fucked like the slut you are, taking me so well”, he lost himself to the sensation of you deep-throating him, struggling to take all of him at once. But you tried, your hands on the top of his thighs as you happily let him fuck your face.

Tears started to gather on your lash line the more forceful Miguel got, an audible gagging sound filling the room every time he plunged deeper into you. Spit was coating your chin and cheek, his balls hitting your face with every drive of his hips. Blowing someone wasn’t new to you, but the way Miguel used you to get off intensified the burning heat in your gut. Hearing the sounds he made, feeling how he throbbed and twitched in your mouth, how his thighs slightly shook the closer he got to his climax. It was arousing seeing him like this, and you enjoyed it like it were your favorite movie.

“I want to cum down your throat, you gonna let me?”, Miguel asked, sweat starting to build up on his hairline as he looked down at you. Your eyes were hazy, pupils dilated and almost lost as they met his. He could feel your harsh breathing against him, the drool pooling in your mouth, and the vibration of a pleasurable hum as you answered him with enthusiasm.

“Mierda, swallow it all for me, I don’t want you to waste a drop”, he said hastily, thrusting up into you a few more times before he shuddered with a loud grunt. Miguel’s hips stayed flush with your face, tears dropping down your cheek as you choked around him and felt him cum down your throat. You clutched his thighs, breathing shakily and trying to remain calm to the best of your ability. He felt you constricting around him, taking everything he had to give while his fingers dug into your scalp.

With ease, Miguel pulled his hips back, watching you catch your breath. You moved your head up, opening your mouth to show him how you followed his directions, no traces of his release left behind. Not a single drop was wasted. For the first time since you’ve been in the same room with him, there was a smile on his face.

“I should give you a treat for being so good to me just now”, Miguel purred at you, bringing you back onto your feet and kissing you deeply. He could taste himself against your tongue, groaning into your mouth as he chased the flavor of his release. You clung to him, gasping when you felt a claw on your back tearing at your spider suit as he slipped it down your body, leaving you bare before him.

“Fucking hell Miguel”, you whined against him, the brisk air of his lab making your nipples hard, biting your lip when a rough thumb caressed a perked nub. He was handsy and impatient, lifting you up by the bottom of your thighs and bringing you to a spare desk on the other side of the room. You sat on the cool surface, legs instantly parting for Miguel as his hips pressed against yours.

With hungry lips, they wrapped around your other nipple, sucking lavishly and humming around it as his hands explored over you. His other free hand trailed down your stomach, gracing your bare hip and reaching towards your warmth. Your hands went to his brown hair, running through the strands and arching towards his touch as a thick, calloused thumb ran circles on your clit.

“You always get this wet when you have dick down your throat?”, he chuckled, releasing your nipple to kiss your neck, nipping the soft skin while he continued his rubbing. You couldn’t even answer him, throwing your head back to grant him more skin to touch and crying out when two of Miguel’s fingers slipped inside you.

The soft squelching that filled the room was almost embarrassing, feeling your arousal drip onto his skin with every plunge of his digits. You were already so wet and pent up from the earlier usage of your throat for Miguel’s pleasure, sending you that much closer to the edge. With a flick of his wrist, his fingers curled into the soft spot inside you, your thighs twitching under him and pulling another whimper out of you.

“Please, fuck please”, you gripped onto his bicep, grinding your hips against his hand to chase your own pleasure. Miguel’s sharp eyes observed you, watching every stutter you gave him and how your eyebrows creased the closer you got to your climax. He was mesmerized by your soaked heat, knuckles deep into you and hitting every sensitive spot he could find.

“So needy, fucking into my hand like a whore. You want to cum on my fingers muñeca?”, he said against your ear, biting on the lobe as you shook underneath him and weakly nodded. His thumb came back into the mix, rubbing fast circles on your clit that made you keen. You were dripping down his wrist, your hot walls fluttering around him and your nails leaving indents in his biceps from where you held on to him.

“Cum for me so I can fill your pussy up just right”

It didn’t take long for you to reach your peak, closing your eyes and mewling out Miguel’s name in the crook of his neck. He groaned at how tight you got, sucking his digits deeper into your body as you flexed around him with trembling legs. He didn’t stop moving his hand against you, making sure to milk your orgasm as much as he could. With a soft kiss to your lips, he pulled his touch away from your center, marveling at how your fluids glistened in the dim light of his lab. Staring at you lustfully, he slipped his fingers into his mouth, savoring your taste with a lewd sigh.

“I’ll get a better taste of you later, but for now let me fuck that defiant attitude out of you”, Miguel said, his hands going to your thighs and lifting them up. He put one of your legs on his shoulder, bending down closer to you as your back was resting on top of the desk. You could feel how hard he was for you again, grinding his length against your wetness, his tip bumping into your clit deliciously every time.

“Just fuck me, please Miguel”, you begged, clenching around nothing and feeling how badly you needed to be filled with something. You expected some sly comment from him, but he surprised you, positioning himself above your entrance and pushing forward.

“You’re so fucking tight. No wonder why you act the way you do”, he hissed at the way you throbbed around him. He didn’t stop moving until his body was flush with yours, reaching the deepest parts inside you and stretching you so deliciously you whined. It would be an exaggeration to say you felt him in your chest, but you swear you could.

A choked moan left your throat when he pulled his hips back to pound into you again, setting a rough pace from the start. The smell of sex started to fill the lab, Miguel’s face digging into your neck and biting the skin as he huffed under his breath. He leaned forward towards your body, your leg that he had on his shoulder bending towards your chest, making him slip deeper into you. You yelped at the action and fucked back into him, your hips meeting his with an audible slap.

Miguel was unrelenting, his hands digging into the plush skin of your thighs and hips as he looked down at where your bodies met. His pelvis rubbed into your clit with every stroke, tilting his hips the slightest bit to hit your g-spot every time he plowed into you. The annoyance he once felt towards you evaporated from his mind, now only focused on screwing you into the desk. It was a lot, he was a lot, but all you could do was be good and take what he gave you with no complaints, holding on to the edge of the desk so tightly your knuckles turned white. He was also silently thankful his lab was farther away from everything else, his ears taking in every delectable sound that came from your bruised lips unabashedly.

“You’re so loud. Do you want the entire HQ to hear how much of a slut you are? Letting your boss fuck you like this for being a brat”, he teased in your ear, feeling you clench around him as he increased the intensity of his thrusts against you. You liked the mix of his degrading and praise, common sense so far gone from your current mind that it left you stuck on cloud 9.

The sneaky hand on your hip moved down your body again, rubbing the pulsing nub as you rambled incoherently against him. He could feel you getting close, doing everything in his power to ruin you for any other person, if that were even an option. You didn’t have it in you to warn him of your impending release, your thighs shaking against his body. But he already knew, slamming harder into you to the point where the desk underneath you screeched against the floor. He was getting close too, his eyes trailing down your body and seeing the white ring at the base of his cock.

“You’re so close baby. Need you to cum around me so I can fill you up, let everyone know who’s fucking you so good”, Miguel grunted against your ear again, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders and clinging to his body. Your nails dug into his back, scratching down the firm planes of muscle and leaving angry red streaks in their wake. He shuddered at the touch, growling into your skin and biting at your shoulder.

Head thrown back in ecstasy, the tension in your gut snapped as you spasmed and wailed under him, the pleasure overwhelming you the second time around. Miguel held on to your hips to keep you from jerking against him, whispering praises into your ear and telling you how good you were, how good you felt squeezing around him. His pace grew sloppy, pumping into you a few more times before his release hit with a guttural moan. Cursing in Spanish under his breath he came inside you, filling you to the hilt with some of his seed spilling out of you.

The both of you panted against one another, Miguel’s body slowly relaxing as he placed one final kiss against the new marks he left on your neck. He lifted his head back to look at you, your eyes half-lidded and face flushed as you caught your breath. Your heart was going a mile a minute, knowing your body would feel sore, but you felt satisfied beyond measure. With a hiss and much protest, Miguel pulled his softening length out of you, watching his cum slip out of your slit and run down your thigh.

“You okay?”, he asked, his voice no longer laced with anger or irritation. You nodded, licking your lips as you tried to find words for him, but your mind was still fogged with the high you just experienced.

“You should listen to me more often you know. I don’t want you causing any more trouble”, Miguel told you, voice softer than usual as he caressed the soft skin of your quivering thigh.

“And what’s the fun in that if this happens when I piss you off?”, you told him, a dopey grin on your face as your eyes met his. The same mischievous glint he always found was there again, something he initially hated now being something he wanted to see more often.

“Then I’ll hold you to it. Don’t be surprised if I put you in your place again”

“I’m looking forward to it, Miguelito”

He found himself chuckling at that, the nickname that made the hairs at the back of his neck rise in aggravation now felt like a blanket of comfort. He knew down the line this wasn’t the end of your antics, that you would continue to get on his nerves. Only this time, he found a way to get something out of it.

Maybe just maybe, having you around wasn’t so bad after all.

©️ ovaryacted 2023

[fandxmslxt69]

Terrible Liar

Avenger!Loki x Avenger!f!reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of injury (reader has a nasty ass wound), mentions of blood and medical supplies, Loki and reader are both assholes to each other but its FUNNY. Rushed plot bc this came to me in a fever dream. Maybe some bad grammar, run on sentences etc. Ignore those ahaha. this is NOT edited or reviewed AT ALL. she's as raw as they come.

A/N: This came to be in a fever dream. Btw. Like God sent it to me. I'm sorry if it feels rushed I was so desperate to get it all down I blacked out. IT'S 5K OKAY MY BAD AHAHAH i'm kind of a slut for this kind of trope so MY BAD. anyway this is for THE @sarahscribbles 's Christmas Celebration!! Sorry I'm a little late, these two wouldn't shut the fuck up so I got carried away. ANYWAY I HOPE YOU ENJOY SARAH I LOVE YOU <3

Synopsis: What could possibly go wrong with spending a night sharing a room with Loki? (aka: enemies to lovers + one bed trope)

Word count: 5K

Oh man. You watched Loki bang the hood of the car in anger. That can’t be good. 

You rested your head against the window of the stolen car, taking deep breaths. You could feel your whole body shaking from the adrenaline. You hadn’t calmed down a single bit since the ride out here. How long has it been? Probably less than an hour. You had no idea how far out you were from the nearest town and it absolutely was not the right time for this car to stop. Your entire body hurt from getting kicked in the ass repeatedly during the fight, and your head spun. Your left side throbbed and your shoulder screamed in agony. Not to mention, you are completely separated from the rest of the group, and you have no means of communication. Somewhere along the way, you had lost your comm, and your spare was of no use. Loki said the lines were down anyway, so it wasn’t much help to begin with. 

Speaking of the devil, he threw the door of the car open, letting in the chill winter air, and huffed as he got back in, slamming the door behind him. “Stupid, useless vehicle. What is the point of transportation if it fails so easily?” He grumbled.

“It’s out of gas, genius,” “Well it’s not making for a very efficient getaway car,” He ran a hand through his hair. “Well?” You looked at him expectantly, but he only looked back with an expression of confusion. You sat up straighter to face him, but your vision blurred and your head swam. It took you a minute to collect yourself. “We can;t just sit here, we’ll freeze to death,” Loki scoffed. “No I won’t,” You clenched your jaw. “Okay, I’ll freeze to death,” “Tragedy,” His tone was dead as he pulled out his phone to mess with. “I’ll let them know it was a heroic death,” “You’re such an asshole,” “How original,” You nearly growled. “Laufeyson,” “Agent,” He replied smoothly, looking up at you with one of those disarming grins. You were not falling for it. You may be delirious and crashing soon, but you were not falling for Loki’s charms. 

“We need to figure something out,” “You mean I need to figure it out,” “Oh my fucking god. I’m not gonna sit here like some passenger princess-” “Agent, you are trembling so hard you couldn’t even walk a foot much less help out in this little dilemma,” Loki interrupted. “I have no desire to starve out here, and horrifyingly, I can’t find it in my heart to let you die out here either. I’ll figure it out,” 

You grumbled under your breath, and you were certain he heard you because he grinned wider and went back to messing with his phone. 

He was right though, you were shaking really hard- both from the adrenaline and now, the cold. Whenever you exhaled, a puff of white air formed in front of you, and the tip of your nose was starting to go numb. The idea of leaving your fate at the moment in the hands of Loki was an absolutely horrifying idea, since you knew how reckless this guy tended to be. But you didn’t have much of a choice, and as much as it physically pained you to sit quietly and wait, you did just that. It was made another fifteen minutes before Loki peeled his eyes away from the phone pad. He opened the door to the car, and stepped out. 

“Hey!” You yelled. “Where the hell are you going? Close the goddamn door!” But of course, he didn’t bother answering or listening. He looked around, staring at his phone occasionally before surveying the area again. And just when you thought he couldn’;t get more insane, he started walking away from the car. Your heart squeezed in your chest. Was he going to leave you here? Like hell he was. You kicked open your door, shakingly getting out of the car. You were vaguely aware of the stab of pain at your side that nearly had you doubled over as black spots danced in your vision, but you willed yourself to push it aside. You slammed the door shut as you walked out after Loki. 

“Hey!” You yelled out to him. You had no idea if he could even hear you with the way the wind howled and snow whipped at your face. It was freezing cold, snow biting your cheeks and your teeth chattering after being out here for less than a few minutes. “Laufeyson!” You yelled louder, arm clutching your side and limping in the direction he walked in. No answer. You were positive a storm was kicking up. 

“Loki!” You screamed this time, as loud as your voice let you. Your chest heaved, your throat hurt, and the air you gulped stung so bad you were so close to never breathing it again. 

“Loki! God help me, Loki, when I find you!” You looked around slowly, yet all you saw was the outline of your stolen car in the winds, and white. So much white. “I’ll haunt you, you know!” You shouted into the wind. “If I die here, I’ll haunt you forever!” You had to shield your eyes from the harsh snow as you yelled. You knew he couldn’t hear you, but you also knew that he couldn’t have gotten too far. How long could he even last out here? Damn it, he could probably last a while. 

Stupid, horrible, arrogant Loki. You contemplated going back to the car, but decided that if you were going to imagine a million and one ways to kill and haunt Loki for eternity, you might as well do it while freezing out here. You were only at number fifteen of your haunting possibilities when you heard his stupidly smooth voice. “What in the Nine Realms do you think you’re doing out here?”

You whirled around to find him standing there, absolutely unaffected by the weather or your situation. His cheeks were rosy and his pretty hair was up in a bun (that was more falling apart than anything) and pretty snowflakes hung in the curls. 

He looked….well. He looked heavenly, to say the least. 

“I was out here looking for you,” You shot back as harshly as you could, but with the way your teeth chattered and the small smirk that tugged at his lips, it didn’t seem to be working. “You should have stayed in the car,” He sounded almost…angry. Why the hell would he be angry when he left you behind? Although, the frown and furrowed brows were a little cute. “You shouldn’t have wandered off and left me behind,” “I was coming to get you,” “Like hell you were,” “I was,” He stepped closer to you, and you had to hold back everything to not huddle up closer to him like a goddamn penguin. He snapped his fingers and you felt something warm and heavy fall on your shoulders. “Put that on. We’re leaving,” 

“Leaving?! Where the hell are we leaving?! Do I need to remind you that we are stranded in the middle of a storm?!” 

Loki grumbled as he forcefully got you into the jacket he conjured. You didn’t bother saying thank you, which was fine because he only kept glaring at you before marching ahead. 

“Where are you going?!” He didn’t bother answering. “Loki!” Assshit. You grumbled and huffed the entire time as you hurried after him, trying to block off the tingling ache at your side. You knew you didn’t get stabbed. Maybe it’s a big cut. You were certain you’d know if a knife had lodged itself into your side. 

You had no idea where Loki was taking you but you kept your mouth shut in hopes that it was someplace warm and safe. 

“Your hair looks like shit,” You blurted out. Okay, maybe not always keeping your mouth shut.

He looked at you from the corner of his eye. “You don’t look much better,” “Yeah but I said it first,” “Maybe I should have left you in the car,” “I would’ve still found you,” “Yes, haunting me forever,” “You heard that?!” He shrugged. “I was heading back to the car. You weren’t exactly quiet,” You stared at him with wide eyes. “And you didn’t even say anything,” “I found it too amusing to interrupt,” You frowned, shoving him with your shoulder. Wrong move apparently, because your vision started spinning and your knees nearly buckled. Loki wrapped an arm around you ever so gently, as if scared you’d shatter otherwise. “Stop talking,” He snapped. “And stop being so damn aggressive. I would like to make this journey without you collapsing on me,” “I’m not going to collapse,” You mumbled. “You always were a terrible liar,” He muttered under his breath, and more or less carried you to your destination. At first, you didn’t let him, but he won eventually, like he always did, and you leaned the rest of your weight onto him. 

You had no idea where you were until you reached the smack middle of a small town. A picture perfect fantasy, almost. Little houses and small shops lined with lights and trees and covered in snow. It was like stepping into a Hallmark movie. Each house was so full of light, and even through the howling wind, you could hear the sounds of laughter and shrieking children. 

How the hell did Loki find this place? “There’s a motel here. We’ll book rooms, spend the night. I’m sure there’s Wi-Fi too,” Loki sounded like he was talking more to himself than you. 

“Freaking out?” You asked. 

“Yes. I’m thinking of which way Stark will kill me if you die,” “Pfft. Tony wouldn’t kill you,” Loki raised his eyebrows but stayed quiet as he walked you both through the town. The storm was clearly picking up, and you were thankful that he had all those genes to keep him alive in this weather, and that he was able to find this place. 

When you reached the motel- which appeared to be the only one in town- you couldn’t help smiling (even if you couldn’t feel your face at all anymore). It was a cute little building, rustic and heartwarming. Little snowmen lined the front, and a bed jingled as you and Loki entered. The inside was even better, with burgundy and gold designs and wallpaper that looked like it came straight out of a Victorian novel. It was cozy, and more importantly, warm. 

You almost sobbed in relief as you practically collapsed onto an armchair by the counter. Your body sank into it, your nerves singing in joy as you slowly felt your fingertips again. 

“Are you alright?” Loki asked. 

You nodded. “Yup,” He made a sound of disapproval. “You need to lie better,” “Go shove your head through the wall,” You muttered back. He only grinned. Loki didn’t even appear fazed or relieved at the warmth, and simply marched up to the counter. There was no one there, and he rang the bell at least five times. 

“Would you stop that?” You snapped after the sixth time.

“It’s a bell. It’s meant to be used,” “Not like that,” “It’s how you call for attention,” “Well I’m sure whoever runs this place will be here shortly,” He lasted a whole two minutes before he hit the bell again. 

“Loki,” You hissed. 

“Just a minute!” You heard a cheery voice call from the back, and a short old lady appeared, seemingly out of breath. “Sorry about that, all those damn stairs,” She chuckled to herself.

Loki flashed her a smile. “It’s not a problem at all,” “Oh my,” The old woman smiled back but this time you swore up and down she blushed a little. 

Loki and his stupid, disarming smile. 

“My…friend and I are a little caught in this storm,” He started, gesturing to you. You waved weakly at the lady and mustered up a smile. She probably thought you were crazy. You had no idea how you looked, but you knew it wasn’t how a normal person should. 

“We were wondering if you had any available rooms for the night. Just two is fine,” He turned back to the lady with an even bigger smile. 

“Well,” She smiled wider at Loki. “I’ll see what I can do,” He nodded, “Thank you…” he squinted at her name tag. “Lucy. Thank you very much, Lucy,” And there Lucy went, blushing and grinning at him again. 

Horrible, absolutely tragic. The poor woman had no idea how insufferable Loki was. 

Lucy rummaged through her desk, seemingly looking for keys to the rooms. She pulled out one, placing it on the counter, before going back to look for the other. You waited, tagging your foot on the wood floor, staring at the cute fireplace. Your whole body hummed in gratitude, and your feet tingle, feeling back in them. 

“Oh dear,” Lucy muttered to herself. 

“Everything alright Lucy?” Loki asked. 

“It seems that I only have a single room available. This storm has the place booked fully,” She explained. 

Hell no. 

Loki sighed. “Very well-” “Are you sure?” You interrupted him. “Can you check again?” You probably sounded desperate, but you couldn’t stop yourself. 

You can’t share a room with Loki. You’d go crazy. You’d do something disastrous- like give in to the urge to cuddle into his chest! Or God forbid, tangle your hand in his hair. 

“I did, hon. I’m afraid this is all I’ve got,” She said apologetically. 

Fuuuuck. 

“It’s quite alright, Lucy. There’s two beds in the room, correct? I’m sure we can manage to share a room for a night,” Loki said hastily before you could interrupt again. 

Lucy opened her mouth, as if to say something else, before she stopped. “Alright,” “How much is it for the night, darling?” Oh okay, he was really laying it on thick then. 

“Oh- oh um…” Lucy chuckled nervously. “This room….it’s 150$ for the night. You can pay in the morning, if you prefer,” “Nonsense,” Loki smiled, pulling out cash from the pocket in his top armour, counting the bills. “Here you go, Lucy,” He handed her the money. “Thank you so very much for your help,” She nodded wordlessly as she handed him the key. Loki took it and turned back to you, arms on his hips. “Are you coming, or must I carry you?” “I wouldn’t mind being carried…” You started jokingly. Apparently, Loki couldn’t read the room, because he frowned, shrugged and then walked over, picking you up effortlessly. 

“Hey-!” You started to protest, but a sudden wave of pain shot through you, shutting you up. “I was joking,” You muttered.

“Mhm,” He said, shooting Lucy another smile before heading upstairs to your room. The stairs were cute too, you noticed, lined with a soft matt and cute lamps lined the walls. And Loki’s chest was really warm, and- that had nothing to do with the motel. 

Before your thoughts could get any more dangerous, Loki stopped in front of a room, hand rummaging through his back pocket to get the key. “You can put me down now,” “I’ll put you down when I feel like it,” Shithead. 

He unlocked the door and stepped in, closing it behind him with his foot. All businesslike, he walked over to the big bed and placed you down on it. It was comfy, and you had to control yourself from not falling back and getting it dirty in all your blood and gore. Loki looked you over. “Fine?” You nodded. “Fine,” He smiled and you were certain he was going to call you a liar but you stopped him. “Laufeyson?” “What?” “Where’s the other bed?” Loki froze, looking around the room slowly. “Oh,” “Oh?” He looked back at you. “It seems, darling, that there is no other bed,” “No fucking shit! You’re sleeping on the floor,” He looked at you in disbelief. “Absolutely not. We can share the bed like civilised people,” “Everyone always says that! And then it never works out!” You threw your hands up. You winced, immediately dropping your hands to hold your side. “Everyone? Who the hell is everyone?” “The movies, duh,” He stared at you. “You’re serious,” “Dead,” He ran a hand down his face. “Alright. We’ll split the bed or something. I truly don’t care enough. I simply want to sleep,” You shrugged. “Fine. Go shower first, then I’ll go in,” “I don’t have clothes to change out of, genius,” “You’re a god genius,” You replied mockingly. “I’m pretty sure you can snap your fingers and get us some clothes,” He stared at you, like he hadn’t had that thought at all. “Right.” And indeed, with a snap of his fingers, a pile of clothes appeared on the bed, and one in his hands. “Try not to get yourself killed,” “I hope you drown in the shower,” He smiled at you before heading into the washroom. You were finally alone, even for a few minutes. You breathed a sigh of relief. Being around Loki always ended with one of you flustered. Tragically, it tended to be you. You looked through the pile of clothes Loki summoned- a plain shirt that appeared way too large, and some plaid pants. They weren’t outrageous. You just had to make sure you hadn’t lost any limbs. 

You slowly peeled off the layers of your top- the jacket, weapons, cash, your useless comms and phone- and then unzipped your equally-useless-in-the-cold vest. You laid all your things on the floor, not wanting to get the bed dirty. Then, slowly, you lifted your top just under your chest, sucking in a deep breath.

Fuck. 

There was a nasty looking cut, starting from right under your ribs and nearly crossing the other side. You didn’t think it looked terrible, but you are almost certain it needed stitches. It wasn’t bleeding too much, but that might have to do with being out in the cold for too long than anything else- even your top was more or less soaked in blood. 

You didn’t even have a first aid kit. You traced around the cut slowly, wincing when it hurt. You prayed it wasn’t infected. 

“Alright, hm?” Your head snapped up to see Loki freshly showered and changed, his now useless mission suit nowhere in sight. “Um, yeah, I’m fine,” His jaw ticked. “You’re hurt,” “Yeah but I’m fine,” “You are bleeding,” He sounded ...angry. Was he mad at you? “It’s not like I did it on purpose,” You snapped. 

He clenched and unclenched his fists. He opened his mouth to say something, before he shook his head and stormed out of the room. 

“What the fuck? You called out after him. He didn’t answer as the door slammed behind him. 

You had no clue why he had to be so mad. It’s not like you chose to get hurt, and you certainly weren’t going to ask him for anything, so why’d he get so pissy? You grumbled to yourself as you grabbed the clothes, heading into the bathroom to scrub off the day. 

It took you a solid twenty minutes to wash everything out. You were very careful to not open your cut further, taking warm water to wash off the dried blood around it. 

You tugged on the plain shirt as you stepped out of the bathroom. You winced when you reached up to tie your hair, deciding to just leave it down to dry. You had thrown your old clothes on the pile of Loki’s in the bathroom, and used a spare towel to press against your wound. 

“Welcome back,” You said sarcastically when you found Loki sitting on the bed. 

“Come here,” He said curtly. 

“You can’t just order me around after you walk out you know? And you can’t get bitchy with me for no fucking reason-” “Will you please come sit down so you can look at your wound,” Loki snapped, but it didn’t sound harsh. It was almost…pleading. You froze in your spot, blinking slowly at him. His voice sounded devastated and in your daze, you nodded, slowly walking over to sit on the bed beside him. 

“May I?” He gestured to your shirt and you nodded again. He lifted it over your head, and suddenly you were thankful for putting on the sports bra Loki brought with your clothes.. “You didn’t say anything,” He whispered. 

You swallowed. This was too freaky. You never got this close with Loki. “We-...we had other things to worry about,” You swore his hands trembled as he reached into the first aid kit beside him. Where did he get that? Did he run out to buy one? Damn it. You and Loki didn’t do fluffy shit. The one day you needed him to be an asshole….

He took his time cleaning the wound, and you tried your best to keep your yelps of pain down. 

“Do you want stitches?” Loki asked in a soft tone. He looked ...frightened. And why too pale. Did he get squirm-ish at this stuff?

“Are you a medical professional?” You asked. 

“Farthest thing from it,” You hummed. “Just wrap it up,”

He nodded, grabbing some cotton pads and the gauze. He carefully placed the pads onto the wound, and began wrapping the gauze around your waist. His fingers brushed against your skin, and you shivered at the touch. 

“There,” He exhaled, pulling his hands away. “You can put your shirt back on,” “Yeah,” You nodded. You should definitely grab it now. You should probably put it on. But you didn’t move a muscle, not with the way Loki stared at you, and the way his eyes dipped lower occasionally. He looked away, appearing flustered, his fists clenched on his thighs. “Loki?” “What?” He snapped. 

“Why are you so angry?” “You could have died,” His voice died down to nothing but a desperate whisper. “You could have died,” You opened your mouth to protest, to say that you had it under control and that everything was fine, but he shook his head. 

“Don’t you dare say everything was ‘fine’. You’re still such a terrible liar,” You weren’t. He just had that freaky ability to tell when you lied every damn time. 

“You could have died. Human life is so horribly fragile, you could have died at any second. What was I to do then, hm? Stare at your lifeless body?” “I thought you’d rejoice at my death,” You joked, trying to break the tension. His eyes snapped to look at yours, his jaw clenched and his eyes wide with fear. You thought he’d say something, but instead he just leaned in, crushing his lips harshly against yours. Before you could even react, he pulled away, breathing heavily. 

“I would have died too. In the simplest terms, my heart would have stopped working the minute yours did too,” You froze in shock, staring at him with wide eyes. What just happened? Your lips tingled from the kiss. You wanted him to do it again. “What the hell are you saying, Loki?” “I’m saying that you are incredibly stupid and idiotic and completely selfish. And that I would rather die than live a life without you in it,” He started, his tone angry and desperate. Your head was spinning. Maybe there was drugs in the linen of this bed. Or maybe Loki hit his head. 

“Say something,” Loki pleaded now, the fight gone from him. “I’m sorry if I offended you. I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass. I can’t help myself. I go crazy every time you’re around. I can’t think straight and I….I don’t know what to do with myself. I’ve never done this before. I thought perhaps if I annoyed you enough, I’d get you out of my head. But Norns, every time you shot some clever remark back, it only egged me on more,” He was rambling at this point. 

You felt confused, but at the same time a sense of relief washed over you. It wasn’t like you were in love with Loki- but you definitely didi entertain the idea of occasionally making out with him or spending the day shopping together. 

So maybe it was a little crush. 

And fuck, it was a relief to hear him blurt out how helpless he was with you. 

“Did you black out?” Loki asked. He cursed under his breath, getting up to give you some space. “I apologise, I shouldn’t have said anything. I came off too strong,” He fumbled as he stood up, running a hand through his hair. “I just…I panicked. I apologise-” “Loki,” You stopped him from spiralling further, even if it was cute to see his usually composed self dissolve. You shuffled over to him on your knees. Even while on the bed, he was still fucking giant. You cupped his face and pulled him down, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

You pulled away after a second, dizzy from the feel of his lips on yours. It was better than you could have ever imagined. He stared at you in shock, lifting his fingers up to press them to his lips. You nearly died right there. 

“What was that for?” he asked, shocked. 

You laughed, kissing him again. He leaned into it this time, wrapping his arms carefully around your waist, his lips pressing against yours. 

You kissed him again and again and again, until you were both breathless and his lips were swollen and you were sure yours were too. 

“You’re really fucking insufferable, by the way,” You muttered against his lips. He hummed, chasing after yours as you pulled away. “You drive me insane. You’re in my head all the damn time, I can’t get rid of you,” “Don’t get rid of me, then,” He captured your lips in another bruising kiss. “I don’t plan to,” You sighed happily as you shuffled back onto the bed, pushing aside bandages and gauze wrap and wipes. Loki was a lot neater, taking his time to put them away onto the night table. He crawled into bed with you, his body hovering over yours, hands on either side of your head, caging you in. He leaned down, pressing another kiss to your lips. One kiss turned into two, into three, and then you were making out lazily, your lips crushed together, heavy pants and heated breaths for god knows how long. Tragically, Loki rolled off of you, laying down beside you. You took deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart. 

Loki shifted, laying now on his side to look at you. You did the same, smiling softly. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” 

“If you couldn’t tell, I’m not quite a people person,” You chuckled. “No, I guess not,” He could be your person though.

Maybe that’s too early to say. You kept your mouth shut. 

“Did I come off too strong?” “Nah,” You shook your head, reaching out to wrap your finger around a lock of his hair. “It was a Hallmark-worthy confession,” “What in the Norns is this Hallmark?” You laughed. “It’s a company. It makes lots of cheesy rom coms, all of which have some sort of frustratingly handsome male lead and big confessions,” “So you’re saying I’m handsome,” He grinned devilishly.  

“Can’t deny it,” 

He leaned in and kissed you again. You kissed him back but then pushed him off. “Stop it. I’ll become addicted,” He leaned back in. “Not a problem. I have no plans to go anywhere,” You ducked away from him, laughing. “If you keep making out with me Loki Laufeyson, we will be having sex,” His brows furrowed. “Absolutely not. Not while you’re injured,” Damn. 

“Fine, then stop kissing me,” “Well that’s unfair. I just got started!” You shrugged. “It’s not my call,” He huffed, pulling you closer, your back flat against his chest. His arm wrapped carefully around your waist, the hand coming to rest just under your wound. “Go to bed then. Before I do something crazy,” “I like crazy. I’m quite fond of crazy,” “Yes, crazy seems to follow you everywhere. It might be your whole identity, really,” “Is that an insult?” A pause. “I don’t think so,” 

You fell silent for a minute. “I think Lucy has a crush on you,” Loki laughed. “What makes you say that?” “Um, the way she blushed when you smiled at her? You laid it on so thick,” You could hear the shiteating grin as he spoke. “I have no idea what you mean, darling. I spoke to her like a normal person,” “Hm,” You wiggled closer to him. “Nah, you definitely were charming her,” His hand squeezed your hip. 

“Stop that,” “What?” You feigned innocence. 

“Stop moving,” You wiggled your ass again, just for a bit of emphasis. “What? This?” 

You swore the sound he made then was some growl. “You find new ways to annoy me every day,” “It’s my talent,” “And you excel at it,” You truly did. No one ever got under his skin like you did. And now with this new layer of your relationship, you have an infinite number of possibilities. 

You knew you guys should probably talk. Figure out where you stand. A plan for tomorrow morning. Try to communicate with the team. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care right now though. Loki was warm, and as he peppered kisses across your shoulder, you felt like maybe tomorrow would be a good day too. 

“I still think you’re an ass,” You mumbled, your eyes half closed. 

He laughed, the sound vibrating in his chest. “Truly a terrible liar,” He pressed a kiss under your ear. “I still think you are the bane of my existence,” “The only one?” “The only one,” You hummed, content with the answer. You could figure things out tomorrow. Tonight, you just wanted to lay in this haze of sunshine. To sleep and wake up to get drunk on Loki again.

Tags: I'm gonna tag a few people because I think I'm silly and this is my second little christmas-y fic so what the hell i dont care LMAO. DONT FEEL OBLIGED TO READ <3 @sarahscribbles @divine-knight-hand @holdmytesseract @joyful-enchantress @saturn-rings-writes

[darkdemeter]

WOLF AT YOUR DOOR

The DARK DEMETER WRITING CATALOGUE, WANDA MAXIMOFF COLUMN (ONESHOT) #1 —

—- not my gifs, credit to original posters! -—

Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader

A/N — I thought that this idea would be my smut ice breaker after it popped into my head when listening to some music. I have written smut before but it's been a while, especially in a form for others to read; so please excuse me if I'm a little rusty. This isn't exactly tied to anything particular regarding either Habits or Convict, but you may interpret this x reader however you wish. Have fun with the oneshot! I've tried to keep this as both descriptive and gender neutral as possible, but it may not be as on par with people who have become well accustomed to writing gn smut.

WORD COUNT — 4.2k

READER DISCRETION — Enemies to lovers trope — profanity — wounded reader, mention of scars and blood — semi dom! Wanda and sub! reader & reversal — smut 18+, minors DNI** — angry/aggressive sex — dry humping — bondage — hinted breeding kink — semi-clothed sex — fingering and mouth oral receiving (Wanda recieving) — Wanda is just a tease to reader — maybe dubious consent? (I feel like I should put this in here, just to be safe) — minor choking — talk of marking — potential grammar and punctuation errors — I think that's it?

SUMMARY — Of course this had to happen right before this mission. Wanda Maximoff had to pry inside your mind, searching for who knows what, the little witch did this to you. And now you will cash in on your promise - your one and only warning to her if she ever fucked with your mind: that you'll be a wolf at her door. Little do you know that you're a wolf walking into a trap.

‘Fucking dammit!’

You cringe to hide the snarl snaking up your throat, your palm harshly pressing into the bullet wound at your shoulder. A real fucking close call this time and all because of her. Yes, everything would have been fine had Wanda not pried into your mind, invaded the personal sanctity of your thoughts. 

But no. No, she had to just take a little peek didn’t she? And because of that, your mind was elsewhere - distracted - and your cover was blown before you could get the information you needed. In short, the mission was a complete fucking bust. Your report will undoubtedly be met by less than impressed superiors. When they brought you on, they expected the job done. 

It was your way to operate. You always got the job done successfully. Has Wanda purposely sabotaged you? Is that her goal?

You’re planning to confront her on the matter right now. You had stumbled all the way back to the compound because the car you took there was blown to pieces when you were compromised. Tony wasn’t going to be very pleased about that either. Shit, it’s like she’s trying to get everyone against you. 

‘Who does she think she is? Fucking me over like this!’

You enter the compound, the main level vacant except the night shift receptionist. She glances up at you and the sheer gasp of horror from her, you point a finger at her. “I’m fucking fine,” you snarl as you strut past her. Your hand leaves your shoulder to the large cut across your stomach. You allow a pained whimper to escape when you enter the privacy of the elevator to take you up to your chosen floor. 

Your ears ring in the deafening silence, breath fast paced and light. The wounds were of no dire measure to pay a trip to the medical ward. They only fuelled your anger towards Wanda. Ever since you first joined the team, Wanda always had a way to test your limits and push your buttons. 

It was just a common sight to see you both butting heads, whether that was during missions or at the compound. You both were always at each other, hackles raised and snarky comments. Of course, what was your conflict but a cover up to fatal attraction? That was the running theory of your fellow teammates, anyway. Never would you admit anything to them in any case. 

Wanda was a pain in your arse as much as you were a mongrel to her. 

Ah, that word: mongrel. Wanda favoured the use of that word for you. It was her name for you. The way you feel the fur beneath your skin bristle each time she calls you that is the reason why you now have to wear a shock collar. Anytime that the device would detect your body’s indicating factors of shifting, the shock would startle you and evade the transformation. 

Was it humane? No, not really. But did it give Wanda the power to only torment you further without repercussions? You fucking bet it did. 

The elevator pings and the doors open with a faint whoosh as you arrive on your floor. You immediately make your way towards her dormitory, which by incident, is temporarily yours as well. 

There was a small situation last week that left your own dormitory in such a wreck that Tony had you bunk with Wanda until he could fix and reinstate stronger materials to withstand your rage episodes. 

And you have only one person to blame for that particular incident. 

Your fist pounds on the door enough to shake it against the hinges. Your key didn’t work. She had the security chain engaged to keep you out. You can hear her inside, her voice is soft and fuck, if it didn’t aggravate you anymore than you already were it surely made something in your abdomen twitch and churn. 

‘That little–’

“Wanda!” you bark behind bared teeth, fangs pronounced in the mix of your frustration, you pound on the door again. “Open this fucking door, now!”

After a moment, and she was taking her time, you can hear the leisurely patter of her feet as she opens the door for you. She stands before you and the scent hits you. For a few seconds it disorientates you, you huff to regain control of your senses. 

“You fucking bitch,” you rasp, voice laced with your utter disdain for the woman who stood in your way; blocking your path. 

Her eyes were smirking first before the corner of her lips twitched into position. “How was the mission, mongrel?”

“A bust, thanks to you.” You growl down at her as you brush beside her to let yourself in. She closes and locks the door. 

“Why’d you do it, Wanda?” You watch her as she walks past you. When she doesn’t answer, you snatch hold of her wrist as you ask her again, tone far more venomous than before. 

“I didn’t do anything.” She pulls her wrist from your grip and continues on her merry way.

“Don’t you fucking lie to me, witch! You did it on purpose, I know you did.” You point at her accusingly, the shake in your arm causes a streak of pain to shoot through your shoulder and you yelp. You press a blood stained glove to it again, teeth clenched hard that your jaw flexes. 

Wanda holds up her hands in mock surrender. “Right, blame me, of course that’s the logical thing to do. You just can’t admit that you failed to do the job.”

That’s struck a deep nerve because you’re pulled away from your original plan to grab a glass and your whiskey and head for the shower. Instead, you engage Wanda. Your hands encircle her wrists and the entirety of your body pins her against the back of the couch. 

The aftershock of the collar is a distant sting in the heat of the moment. Wanda is close, so close against you that with a breathy intake of air, her breasts push up into your ribcage. She eyes the vibrant hue of your glowing eyes. 

Still, she silently denies she had anything to do with it. Did she do it on purpose? You have to know.

“You– you read my fucking mind, Maximoff!” you hiss your accusation, “I told you to keep your magic away from there, but no, you had to go poking around.” 

Your hands move to grip her forearms and for the first time ever, she flinches. Your breath hitches in your throat and the glow dissipates from your eyes. 

There was much more you wanted to say. But the way her body flinched beneath your iron grip, how for a sliver of a second you swear you saw the ember of fear. Did you really scare her?

But then why did she smell like that?

‘Fuck, she smells like…’

With a deep breath through your nose, you lean forward until your lips brush the shell of her ear. “Stay out of my head, Maximoff.”

‘No.’

The glow returns to your eyes and the urge to shift right there crawls beneath, it feels like your skin is on fire. The collar whirrs in warning to keep your transformation at bay, lest you need another shocking reminder.

“Wanda–”

“So you’re really going to ignore the fact you heard me moaning your name before?” You hear the challenge in her light, accented voice.

The animalistic growl in your throat ceases immediately, eyes wide and despite your dominating position, you feel like the one under her. She smirks again. “Come on, what’s wrong?” 

She arches her neck - baring it to you - as she tries to press her lips to your own ear. She whispers with a sultry purr. “Don’t you want to mark me anymore, Wolf?”

Now it was your turn to be the one that flinches. Why is she doing this?

You retract yourself swiftly as if she caused you some semblance of physical pain that made you release her. In some form, she did. That pang of arousal deep within you begins to awaken and you don’t like the smug look on her face as she sits herself up. 

She tries to act cute and innocent when she is anything but that. But her eyes compel you with the flutter of her dark lashes. Was she casting a spell on you?

You back off slowly, eyes trained on her as she takes one step forward. Then another. And another few after that. You watch her hand gingerly play with the tight knot of her short, silky bathrobe. Only now did you realise exactly how short it was on her, the hem of it grazing just above the middle of her thighs. No wonder her scent was so strong, there were barely any layers to conceal it.

She wanted this to happen.

“You know what they say about us,” she tries but you’re quick to shut it down. “There is nothing between us.” Your conviction is absolute on the matter. Even if there was a hint of attraction towards the woman in front of you, surely the others would have something to say about it; all of which would disapprove. You’d not gained a wisdom linking you to your supposed mate which gave you ample opportunity to sleep with whoever and however many you wanted. 

But you never did. You continue to stare at Wanda, unblinking with a narrowed gaze. She shakes her head. Of course, she isn’t going to take your word for it easily. No, like always, she would fight you over it. 

“But you want there to be.” She sounds so sure of herself. She is still stalking towards you. When did you become a prey and her the hunter? You give no response and this only gives her more power to do as she sees fit. 

“If it weren’t for that collar around your neck, you would have me bent over the couch right now.” You hold a hand out as you call for her to stop. She halts in her advance, head tilting to the side like a confused puppy. She flutters those lashes again and your breath feels heavy, swollen because of your conflicted arousal and confusion. 

“That is one of your fantasies, isn’t it?”

“I said stop,” you warn, slowly lowering your hand, “whatever you’re playing at right now, I want no part.” You see her lips fall open as she offers a toothy grin. “I’m just trying to understand why you fight this.”

“I’m not fighting anything,” you say quickly with a shake of your head. “No?” she purrs lowly with a quirk of her brow. Shrugging, she raises a hand up. “Then you won’t fight this.” 

The ambient glow of her magic orbits around her hand as she swipes her arm to the side. Your brows furrow and mouth falls agape, the clicking of your belt looped around your tactical pants is quick before the strap of leather is flying to the side, to some forgotten corner of the common area. 

Your eyes that bore witness to your belt coming undone fly up to meet Wanda’s, a protest on the tip of your tongue, you’re stopped short when you’re knocked back. Your arse, which you expect to get planted on the floor, is instead caught by one of the dining table’s chairs. Your arms are restrained by her magic to keep them pinned behind you.

“W-Wanda, what are you–”

She shushes you while she catches up to you, her steps slow and methodical. Her stare penetrates the darkest recess of your soul and you recoil beneath it. The pain of your wounds as they begin their process of healing are long forgotten now. You have other things to worry about, how much Wanda actually knows about you and what she intends to do with you. 

“I want you to admit it,” she hums in a low whisper that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand. She was playing on your fantasies. The fucking witch. 

“Admit what?” You force the words out through the biting of your clenched jaws.

“That there is something between us. That each time we fight it’s because we’re denying that attraction. That the wolf needs me to satiate its appetite because we both know I am the only thing that can.” 

Wanda stands between the gap of your spread legs, she swipes her hand quickly and the lapels of your coat and tactical vest are torn open by the will of her magic. You exhale sharply, a growl pulling through your teeth as you glare at Wanda between the narrowed slits of your eyes. She drinks in the sight of your bare chest before her, the way each of the muscles flex beneath the skin, the heat of your body practically rising off your skin like hot springs. The red streaks of blood from your wound peeking out just beneath the fabric of your gear.

“Wanda.” You’re panting now, anger turned into the vulnerability that was your aroused state of mind. 

That was why you never gave into those temptations. Why you dismiss that flirtatious bartender at every turn whenever she sees you in that bar, why those who have asked for your number, you give them either the number of some Chinese takeout restaurant or even one of your teammates. 

The threat of such vulnerability and intimacy was too great of a target on your back. She moves to straddle your lap, hands pressed to your exposed chest. 

“Admit it,” she says again and you snarl at her. “Never! There’s nothing to admit!” 

She giggles then and rolls her hips forward and down against your crotch. 

“F-fuck!” you stutter, your arms and chest strain forward but Wanda has you contained. Trapped. Like some common dog. A mongrel. 

“Still nothing between us?” she asks, voice laden with a soft whimper, her purpose is to make you crack; to give in and admit to everything she knows. As if lying would spurn her when she knows the truth. 

Why does she want you to admit it so badly? Because she wants to torment you, it’s so simple. 

“N-no,” you grunt only to hiss beneath your breath when she rolls her hips again, this time with more pressure. You swear you feel the pulsing of her clit against the coarse fabric of your pants. 

You do all you can to refrain from bucking your hips or else you were done for. 

“So you mean to tell me that you haven’t fantasised about…,” she trails off with a pout of her lips, feigning that innocent look of contemplation. “For fuck’s sake,” you drawl as your head falls back. 

She’s killing you. Slowly but surely she is killing you. 

She continues, “being out here in the kitchen, late at night, drinking your whiskey alone before I come out here in a short, little bathrobe…” 

‘Oh… fuck.’ 

That was a recent fantasy.

Her fingers drag down the ravine of your heated skin on show for her to then fiddle with the two threads that held her bathrobe together. “Wearing this?” You shouldn’t have looked but fucking hell, you were always the a little too curious for your own good. 

She’s tugged the knot loose and lets the silky fabric roll off her shoulders and down to her elbows. If this was all to be considered as some strange, aroused induced coincidence then that is out the window now. Because there is no fucking way she knew to pick a lingerie set in your favourite colour. 

You tilt your chin toward her only slightly and let your glowing eyes take in her form. The moment she arches her neck the slightest is when you lose it. 

You lunge your neck forward, your canines bared and at the ready to mark the junction between neck and shoulder, to litter her neck with dark bruises so she wouldn’t be able to hide them. But you’re stopped short yet again in your advance. Her magic prevents you, mere inches away. To top it all off, she chuckles. 

She’s cracked you.

You growl, the sound husky and deep in your chest. 

“Fucking– let me–” Your muscles strain and flex as you fight the barrier of her magic to no avail. She tuts you softly, moving herself slightly forward so that her arms push her breasts up to elevate her cleavage to become more pronounced. Damn her. She continues to roll her hips in a slowed motion, riding you out into your confession. 

“Shall I continue?”

“No!” The single word sends a thrilling chill down her spine. “Then admit it.”

“No,” you answer again, this time with a more levelled tone. 

Her fingers move to the fly of your pants as you let out a confused whine as she loosens them slightly. Her palm presses flush against the junction between your thighs and you moan. And that sound is the most exquisite sound Wanda has ever heard you make. For a battle-hardened wolf, wild and untamed and a proven danger to the public, nobody would suspect that you were capable of such noises. But Wanda knew. 

Her palm is small in comparison to you, and as much force as she uses now there is a level of delicacy she retains. Your resolve is crumbling quickly. You jolt forward again with your mouth ajar to mark her but she stops you and arches back. 

“Let me have you!” 

“I’ll let you have me, play out all your little fantasies with me. But I want you to indulge in mine, first. So… admit it and I’m all yours.” 

Was she fucking serious? This is her fantasy? Well, you never expected her to be into something like this. “Ah, fuck…” She hears your mumbling, any moment now you are about to surrender. 

She just needs to push that last little bit. 

“Just think about it, Wolf,” she whispers, lips dancing over yours, one of her hands placing a single finger between your lips to keep them from meeting. “I’m all yours if you just say it. Tell me what I want to hear, and you can have your little midnight snack right here. You can have me over the couch, in the shower and in your bed until the tousled sheets smell of nothing but sex.” 

Fuck, where did she learn to talk so filthy? 

“I can’t,” you say behind a heavy pant. She whines quietly in your ear as her other hand that’s palming you stops, but her hips continue to roll against that sensitive region. At this point, you’re chasing your climax right there. Who knows if she will keep to her word after she indulges in her twisted fantasy. 

You shift your eyes to watch her hand that rests between your bodies and you almost lose yourself to your high. Her hand dips beneath the lacey fabric of her lingerie, her fingers sliding over her folds and thumb rolling her clit in circles; all of which is left to the beauty of your imagination.

“Wanda, don’t test me!” Your words are a command; a warning that she doesn’t heed. “But this is a test.” Your brows furrow, confusion etched into your face. “To see if you can be broken in.”

Was that all you were to her? Something to be broken in?

She begins to make those sounds again. The same chorus of moans and pleas with your name as a choked gasp on the edge of her vocals. You overheard her masturbating when you first banged on the door to be let in. 

And she was doing it to the thought of you.

“Wanda!” you hiss, your hips finally buck up to meet the hunger of her own that roll with such fervour, you believe she was so close to getting off right there in your lap. “Y/N, oh f-fuck, Y/N!” she gasps out, “right there, just like that– oh shit!” 

“Fuck, I admit it!” 

Everything stops all at once and your chest heaves numerous times. The air is thick to your lungs and each intake makes you feel like you’re drowning more than anything. Wanda stares at you, silently, her eyes searching yours when you finally look back at her beneath that wolfish glare. How that stare made her wet in her panties every time. 

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” You scowl at her teasing words. The moment you feel her magic cease is when you pin her against the dining table behind her. She props herself up on her elbows, the loose fabric of her robe still clinging to her form but she was exposed in that cute lingerie set.

Like a hungry wolf, your tongue licks over your teeth and along the top of your lips. You groan as her aroused scent wafts up, the smell irresistible. 

“You’re a damn tease, you know that?” She chuckles beneath her airy breaths. “It was the only way to get you to confess.”

Your hand clasps hold of her throat. Oh, how you love the look of fear and lust on her face all at once. It was a sight only you would get to see. “And I have a million ways to ruin you,” you growl lowly, “now you’re in my fantasy, Maximoff and if you have any idea what you’ve gotten yourself into by letting the wolf at your door inside, then you know I’m always rough.”

“I’m counting on it,” she wheezes behind the firm pressure you apply to her throat. “Good. Now keep them spread, Maximoff or you’ll learn what rough is real quick.” 

She does as you say and spreads her legs open and you sink to your knees, even then given your height difference, you are at perfect level with her soaked cunt, the large, dark patch evident of how badly she wanted this all along. This whole time. 

Your clawed fingers none too gently rip the panties aside, fabric tearing from the sheer force of it. Wanda’s hands find themselves clenching fistfuls of your hair, tugging you in closer with a needy whimper of your name.

Her legs hook over your shoulders, mewling when you pepper her inner thighs with kisses and playful bites with your sharp canines, a rumble of a groan reverberating between her legs causes her to quiver. “Y/N, please!” she pleads. 

“Ooh, what’s this?” you chuckle, “don’t worry, Sweetheart, I’ll give you a taste.”

You slide a finger past her slick folds, her walls tighten around your single digit. You groan when her moan makes her pussy clench your finger tighter. “Shit, Wanda, I’ve barely done a thing yet.”

“Then do something!” she hisses and you give her that same, wolfish glare. “D-don’t look at me like– ahh!”

She is at your mercy now when you begin thrusting your finger back and forth, soon adding another two through the folds. She whines and moans, cursing your name and praising your work. When you pull your now slick covered fingers from her pussy, she tries to protest but the replacement is swift; and in her lust-ridden opinion, far better. Her eyes roll back and she lays flat on her back against the table as your tongue laps at her cunt, tip teasing the bud of nerves. You growl again and fuck, if she didn’t make the sexiest, neediest sound ever at that. You continue with what’s working at getting your little witch off. Her breath comes in short pants and her legs quiver as they move to circle around your head. Her fingers curl tighter against your roots as she chokes out, “I-I’m cum–cumming!”

You purr against the flood of her orgasm, lapping her divine juices up with your tongue. She breathes heavily for a moment in regaining her composure. You pull your head, albeit, struggling to pry her hands and legs from around you, you crash your lips against hers. The kiss is passionate, fuelled by hunger shared by both parties. Her mouth invites you and you gladly force your tongue past her parted lips, letting her taste herself on your tongue. 

You rut your hips between her still spread legs and they envelop you, encouraging the rocking motion with eagerness. “I still fucking hate that you read my mind and all,” you mumble into the kiss. 

‘Even when I say that I've also thought about carrying your pups?’

Your smirk with a coarse chuckle, dark in its intentions and your eyes glow that colour that brings Wanda to her knees. “Naughty witch, don’t test me there. Those will be my pups you're swollen with.” 

She tilts her head again but this time, you see no intent to tease in her eyes. No intent to…

“This isn’t a test.”

Fucking hell, that wolfish smirk of yours could make anyone wet at the drop of a hat. Too bad for others, because Wanda had you wrapped around her witchy, little finger that danced with magic.

Magic that just so happens to unlock the shackle around your neck. Well, the wolf at the door is now off its chain.

Thank you for Reading! (◕ ᴥ x)

TREEHOUSE TAGLIST —

@alexawynters

[hobie-enthusiast]

UNLIKELY CLASH !

— rulebreaker!hobie brown x perfectionist!gn!reader

— enemies to lovers, cursing (hobie says bullshit), dramatic tension, high school, hobie being a menace, and reader is fed up with him, or are they

— hobie brown was everything you weren’t, so maybe that’s what attracted the two of you together so well (pt. 1)

— this was originally meant to be one fic then i started writing and bam two maybe three parts. let me know if it’s any good for another part

— part 1 (here) | part 2 | part 3

This was a dangerous game you were playing.

Hobie Brown was a menace. An absolute prick who had no respect for the rules or anything anyone told him. He skipped school constantly, broke every rule set in place, and never did what the staff asked of him.

The complete opposite of you.

You were the model student, you practically had to be. Best grades imaginable, excellent rule follower, and apart of almost every club offered. Nobody could complain about you or what you’ve achieved.

Well, except for Hobie Brown. He’s been messing with you ever since your first encounter, and you honestly were in no interest in playing this game with him.

—

“Mr. Brown, if you can’t keep quiet in this class then I’m going to have to ask you to talk with the principal.”

Hobie rolled his eyes as he propped his shoes on the desk in front of him, hands behind his head. "Sounds be'ter than lis'ening to this borin' lesson."

You find yourself scoffing at Hobie's useless words. Of course he would chose to be difficult on the one day of the week he showed up to school. In your eyes, it would be better for him to miss rather than interupting the lesson for those who just want to pass the class.

Suddenly, the teacher glances in your direction. "[Name], would you mind escorting him to the office?" She asks in a pleading tone. You sigh but give a smile, nodding.

The teacher gives another stern look in Hobie's direction, but he just laughs as he puts his hands up. You walk towards the door and step outside, waiting for the vigilante to join you outside.

Hobie stepped outside, glancing down at you. He says nothing as he begins walking, in the opposite direction of the office.

"Uhm, I know you hardly come here," You start, catching up to him. "But the office is the other way."

"Didya really think I was gonna follow ya?" He questions with a chuckle. When you don't respond, he raises an eyebrow. "Wow, ya did."

You sigh, moving to stand in front of him. "Don't be difficult, Brown. Just go up there and we won't have issues."

"Ain't no need to be so uptigh', sweetheart. Even the class presiden' can 'ave some fun."

You glare as he brushes past you. "One, don't call me sweetheart." You say in a tone. "Second, having fun doesn't include disregarding what teachers tell you to do."

"Sure it does." Hobie says with a shrug, stopping to stare down at you. "Ins'ead of goin' to the office, I can go do whatever I feel like doin'. Much bet'er, don't ya think?"

The way he spoke so casually about breaking the rules infuriated you. Of course you didn't want to be here as much as the next person, but you couldn't imagine just interrupting and walking out like this. You were here to be the best you could possibly be, no distractions. But Hobie Brown was not letting you do that.

"Keep starin' and you might find yourself in a position you don't wanna be in, darlin'." He said, looking back over his shoulder.

Okay, that pissed you off. "Excuse me?"

Hobie rolled his eyes, turning back to you as he made his way to you. His hand lifted your chin, peering down on you. "Ya heard me. Though, maybe ya do wanna bend the rules with me."

"You don't know anything about me."

"I know u've had plen'y of time to go back to that bloody boring class."

As much as you wanted to deny his words, he was right. Why haven't you just left him to his own devices? It wasn't that hard to just walk away and let him suffer the consequences.

Why were you still here?

Your silence prompted a smirk from Hobie. "I'll see ya around, sweetheart." He says, turning back around to walk out of the school. You let out a frustrated groan, trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped at the contact or nickname.

—

Your next encounter with Hobie Brown was in the cafeteria the day after that incident. It was honestly a shock to you he even showed up two days in a row.

You walked along the halls with your good friend, casually chatting as you made it into the lunchroom. Lunch period was such a refreshing time in your mind, a good time to actually talk with people you like. And not deal with a certain someone.

You still couldn't figure out why you were thinking of him so much. Just from the one encounter, he's plagued your thoughts and mind. It was honestly so annoying in your eyes.

You grab a lunch tray, moving to grab a meal prepared for that day. It wasn't the most appetizing food, but it was better than nothing. You paid before stepping out of line to find a seat.

But of course, someone also had to walk in that path at the same time. They bumped right into you, causing you to trip forward and fall almost flat on your face. Or actually, right into the arms of someone who caught you.

You clutch onto the stranger, groaning at your food that was now on the floor. There goes your lunch. You sigh. "Thank you, I'm so sorry I-"

You glance down at the hand, then notice the familiar scent from the previous day. You glance up, seeing none other than Hobie Brown, small smirk on his face at your realization.

You immediately release your hold on him, standing up straight. "Brown." You say coldly and simply, crossing your arms.

He raises his hands. "Alrigh', don't acknowledge that I jus' saved ya from a bloody nose. That's wha' friends are for, huh?"

"We are not friends." You respond, eyes narrowing at him.

"Not with that at'itude we're not."

Glancing around, you suddenly become very aware of how many people are watching the two of you. You groan, hands running on your face before you face him again.

"Thanks, Brown. For catching me." You say with gritted teeth.

He gives that same damn smirk, ruffling your hair. "'s no problem, sweetheart. Jus' watch where ya step."

If no one was watching you would probably punch him square in the arm. He knew you wouldn't do anything; tell him off, hit him, nothing. You had a reputation to uphold as the president. What kind of president are you if you can't get along with everyone, including the school pariah.

You turn around after that, trying to get out of there as soon as possible. Of course, what were the odds you fall right into Hobie's arms. What a cruel twist of fate on you.

Damn you, Hobie Brown.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

That's how you find yourself in the present weeks.

Hobie comes up to you whenever he finds the chance. He comes to school more often, which may be good in some ways, just to see you. Of course it was odd to see the school's resident vigilante finding a friend in the school council's president, even after such a fiasco.

Only issue? You guys weren't friends! Not even close. You practically hates the guy. At least, you had to. That's what you thought, because that was the truth, right?

"So, what's the deal with you and that Hobie guy?"

You groan as you slam the locker shut, glancing at your friend. "Nothing is the deal. He's just an annoying prick."

"Woah, seems I hit a nerve." Your friend chuckled. "Just tell him to leave you alone. I'm sure he'll listen, no?"

They were right, you knew they were. Of course Hobie would leave you be if you asked him to stop or reported him. But something stopped you every time. You would always indulge in his antics and words, throwing back annoyed tones or sarcastic words. The easiest solution would be to just ignore him.

So why didn't you? Why did you expect him almost daily? What were you doing?

And of course, speak of the devil.

"Hey sweetheart." Hobie speaks behind you, leaning against the lockers. His eyes scan your friend. "Busy? I wanna talk to ya."

Your friend glanced at the two of you. "I'll.. see you later [Name]."

You sigh with a roll of your eyes, opening your locker back up. "What do you want?"

"Who was that?" Hobie asked. "A friend?"

"It doesn't matter. What do you want, Brown?"

Hobie chuckled quietly, amused by your somewhat hostile nature. "Not 'ere. Somewhere else."

You close the locker again to question his motives. But instead, you already see him walking off. This was the point you could have walked the other way, headed off to class like the good and perfect class president you were. That would be the responsible thing for you to do.

You debated with yourself for a moment before sighing, following Hobie at a distance. Why? Well you can't answer that. He led you to the front of the school, a side door in specific. You never really find yourself over here in specific, there was never a need to.

Hobie pushes the door open, walking out like it wasn't a big deal. He glanced back, ushering you to follow him. You groan but follow him. You were already too far from your next class to turn back and make it on time. Bailing at this point would be pointless.

"'m shocked ya haven't complained." Hobie spoke once you caught up with him.

You roll your eyes. "I'm actually a nice person, believe it or not. Just not with you, a vigilante."

"Hm, haven' been called that one before." He says, digging his arms in his vest pockets. "And don't worry, soon enough 'u'll like me."

"What makes you think-"

Hobie stops walking suddenly, tilting his head towards a tree. Your eyes narrow at it, but you couldn't dare deny how nice it was out here.

"This is where you wanted to take me?" You question as he sits down, taking his guitar off his back, placing it in his lap.

He nods, strumming the strings. "'s peaceful." He says, glancing up at you. "Sit. I ain't gonna bite."

Hesitantly, you sit down across from him, drawing your knees to your chest. You were grateful that this tree was far from the school, so no one could see you both.

God, when did it come to you skipping class with the Hobie Brown?

"So.." You draw out your word, looking at him with careful eyes. "What did you wanna talk about?"

"Oh, nothin'. Just wanted to get ya away from that friend of 'urs." He responded nonchalantly, shrugging as he tuned the strings.

You groan with a sigh. "Damn you, Brown. I could be in class right now!"

"But 'ur not. Ya didn't have t' come with me."

Of course he was right. Your own will brought you under this tree with Hobie as he mindlessly strums his guitar, skipping class in the process. Who was he making you?

"Besides," He starts, playing a chord. "Ya owe me. You know, savin' ya in the lunchroom? I wanna know more about ya."

You roll your eyes. Of course he would that against you. It wasn't like you asked to be saved like that.

But what else could you do out here with him?

"Fine. You get three questions. That's it."

Hobie nods, silently taking some time to think of the first question. "What's 'ur favourite colour?"

Well that certainly wasn't the type of question you expected. "Uhm.. [f/c]..?" You say with some uncertainty.

"Figures. Suits someone like you." He says, setting his guitar to the side to focus on you. "Alright, next question. Who's someone ya look up t'?"

"Easy, Spider-man. Some people call them Spider-punk, but I don't know, that doesn't sound like them." You speak casually, shrugging about it.

That answer surprised Hobie, but he didn't show it. Instead, he leaned back and questioned you as to why.

You sigh. "I guess.. it's because they fight for the good. They break all these rules, go against others expectations of a hero, and still save those who need saving. They still manage to do the right thing and save the day." You say, continuing on with your explanation. "I just wish that could be me sometimes. Breaking the rules and expectations set in place for me while still impressing others."

You clear your throat after, feeling as though you made things awkward. Hobie was silent as he just stared at you. Was he.. analyzing you? Your answer? You had no idea.

"Last question.." He continues, as if the last one never happened. "If you could do anything you wanted to, no limits, what would you do and why?"

Now this question was making you think. Anything? Absolutely anything? Maybe you were getting too deep.

"I would probably solve the-"

"No." Hobie cuts you off, sitting up. "Don't give me some bullshit answer abou' somethin' for others. Be selfish. I want an answer from [Name], not the perfect studen' council presiden'."

Your eyes widen, but then you look down, smiling to yourself somewhat gently. "I would.. I would run away to the city for a day, do everything that I want to do. Feel the freedom of not having everyone staring at my every move. Finally be able to just.. breathe." You say, not even bothering to see Hobie's expression.

"Noted."

You had no clue at that moment what his words meant, but surely they had to have held meaning. After a while, the two of you had to head back inside the school, the previous encounter and interactions still hanging heavily between you two. Still, you couldn't help but write a small note of 'thank you' to Hobie, putting it in his locker.

When Hobie went to his locker at the end of the day, the first thing he noticed was the crumpled up note with his last name written neatly on it. His mind immediately identified it as being from you.

'Thanks for letting me say all of that earlier. I don't think I've ever admitted to someone how much pressure I'm truly under. You really aren't that bad.

This still doesn't mean we're friends.

Yours truly, [Name].'

Oh yeah, Hobie would definitely be holding onto this note.

[angellesword]

It's Not Living (If It's Not With You) | JJK

At thirty-two, you thought you had your life figured out. That is until you received a call one day:

"You need to go to Gangwon Police Station now. There are two people here: One thirty-something male claiming to be your husband, and the other is a three-year-old girl claiming to be your daughter. They say they won't leave unless you, the mom of the family, pick them up."

Or alternatively,

a series of events where you fall in love with Jungkook, become a mom, solve your dead best friend's case, and wriggle out of old money's grasp, but not necessarily in this order. (Maybe all at once. Who knows?)

Genre and warnings: enemies to lovers, idiots in love, mutual pining, OMG there is only one bed, forced proximity, cohabitating, enemies to friends to lovers, co-parenting, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, car accidents, law, this fic is originally written as an AOT au, but i've changed it to a JJK one, so please pardon any Japanese terms mentioned (they're not too relevant anyway) some of the characters are from aot too. i'm too lazy to change them haha

Pairing: Police Lieutenant! Jungkook x Lawyer!!Reader

Word Count: 45.5k

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It's Friday.

Unlike others, you considered Friday just like any other day—it is a hectic time where you're deeply engrossed in reading what seemed to be an unending stack of files.

People working under you had already gone home. You allowed them to clock out an hour earlier, not hesitating to hand them your card so they could dine at whatever restaurant they liked.

Your employees deserved it after working 45 hours this week. It's the least thing you could do, though they wished you could extend the same treatment to yourself. Unfortunately, being a lawyer didn't give you the luxury to have a fun Friday night out.

You're stuck in the office, finalizing the cases you'd present before the court next week. Some might think you only needed to endure this day before fully giving yourself a break, but that's not true. Your weekend wasn't any better as you'd be spending it taking pro bono cases to help lower your taxes and prove to others that you did not fully succumb to this cruel, capitalistic world.

Speaking of capitalism, you've heard a quick but shy knock on the door. The person outside knew too well not to disturb you on a Friday night, but some things were inevitable.

"Come in," you ordered casually. Your eyes were still trained on the paper on your desk.

The door flew open as you heard your secretary's pointed heels hitting the cold tiles. Timidly, she said, "Sorry to disturb you, Attorney. We have an urgent case concerning your top client."

You hadn't heard the details of the case, yet you could already feel the veins in your head pulsating. This couldn't be any good. Your top client was the Braun-Grice family. The past months had already been too troublesome. What could those brats have done this time?

"Let me guess," you lazily highlighted the paper with red marks before staring at your secretary. "It's Gabi and Falco again, isn't it? Did they vandalize some rich man's house again?"

Your secretary wished it was that simple. She shook her head, "I'm afraid they've done worse than that." Her voice turned solemn. "The teens are involved in a car accident."

You were startled, immediately letting go of your highlighter. The boredom in your face completely disappeared as you questioned your secretary seriously. "What did they do? Let me see the file."

Mina was an obedient employee. She chose to stay in the office with you but with no intention of beating around the bush. She handed you the file immediately, "Ms. Braun called me earlier and said she and Falco need to see you now. They're in Busan Police Station."

Your hands on the file froze. Busan? What were those brats doing in your hometown? Gabi and Falco were both from Seoul. It's also still a weekday, meaning they had classes. Did they skip school to fuck around?

Mina filled in the blanks for you, "Ms. Braun is remorseful over the other line. She said she and Falco were super stressed in school, so they thought, why not try throttle therapy to ease their minds?"

You laughed derisively upon hearing that. Throttle fucking therapy, my ass. You bet it was Gabi's idea. She had always claimed to be fearless and unstoppable because she knew her family was affluent not just in Seoul but all over Japan.

"So what? Did their car crash into something? How much is the damage?" You finally opened the police report. The incident happened approximately three hours ago. Gabi could only reach your secretary after her medical check-up and giving a statement to the traffic police.

That brat! You had told her countless times to keep her useless mouth shut and wait for you to show up. Why did she never learn!?

"That's the thing. The damage isn't convertible in monetary value. Mr. Grice drove the car because Ms. Braun induced him to do so. Unfortunately, they hit two pedestrians before crashing into a tree."

Numbness crawled from your feet to your face. There was ringing in your ears, and you could've sworn your heart stopped beating when you saw the crime scene pictures.

"The victims are a married couple on their way home. Falco immediately called the police to report the incident. The paramedics came at once, but the victims were proven to be dead on arrival."

It's a miracle you could still hear Mina talk despite the nausea attempting to envelope you whole. Tears began to pool in your eyes, and before you knew it, they were already falling straight to wet the cuff of your long-sleeved shirt.

It's black.

The color of your top was black. Its design was similar to the one the dead victim was wearing. Only the color was different. Hers was white, making the blood staining her shirt so bright that it hurt your already bloodshot eyes.

White and black. She wore white because you claimed it fit her innocent personality more. Black was yours because it was as dark as your soul. The shirt was the perfect Christmas gift. Only two pairs were made by the designer. You paid a huge sum of money for these clothes.

You couldn't be mistaken.

You knew the victim all too well.

"The victims have been identified. The woman is named Sora Kang; the other is her husband, an Italian citizen named Niccolo."

That's all you need to hear before you clamp the folder shut. You stood up, "Cancel all my upcoming cases—Pro bono or not—I don't care. I'm going to Busan tonight."

"Yes, Attorney." Mina handed you two tickets. "I've already contacted someone to buy the bullet train tickets for us. It's the fastest route to Busan."

If this was any other day, you'd probably praise her for being the most reliable secretary, but this wasn't like your typical busy Friday.

You were still as busy as ever, but one thing had changed.

Sora, your childhood best friend, had died.

"I'm going to Busan alone." You tossed the keys to your house in this city to Mina, "I need you to go to my place first. There's a brown box under my bed. Pack it along with my other things—clothes and necessities. You already know that. Send it to Busan. The address is written on the lid of the brown box. I expect you to finish your job in two hours. I'll see you then."

Mina had no objections. She practically ran out of the office after you gave your orders.

Your train would leave in twenty minutes. The short time was not enough, but you forced yourself to gather your wits and temporarily bandage your broken heart.

After that, you went straight to the train station with one thing on your mind:

Clean this mess up.

***

It was quiet at the police station when you arrived. As expected, the Busan Police Division was not idle. Chief Police Kim Namjoon probably stationed his subordinates all over the city. Only Officer Park Jimin was at the front desk.

You wasted no time and showed your license to him; Jimin immediately directed you to the interrogation room where Falco and Gabi were being mentally intimidated.

As a seasoned lawyer, your head was held high as you barged inside the room, ignoring Jimin, who was anxiously coaxing you to calm down.

Of course, he'd tell you to calm down. Jimin was one of your childhood friends who had always been calm and rational. He didn't like solving things with violence, but he was smart enough to know you would not listen to him—not after you saw from the interrogation room window how the interrogator raised his fist to punch Falco. It was the typical intimidation to force a confession out of a suspect. You had encountered this scene many times, so your mind and body seemed to be on autopilot when you faced the interrogator. 

You grabbed the devices used to record Gabi and Falco's confession and broke them. At once, all proof gathered in the past hours vanished into thin air.

Everything happened in the blink of an eye. Gabi, Falco, and the interrogator were dumbfounded by your sudden action.

"You dare!?" The interrogator was the first one to recover from the shock. He quickly turned to you. Intense fury painted his pathetic face as he clenched his hands into tight fists.

His reaction did not faze you one bit. In fact, it only prompted you to say your piece, "Article III, Section 19 of the Constitution states that the employment of physical, psychological, or degrading tactics against a suspect to force out a confession is punishable by the law."

Reciting a provision of the law verbatim was one of your favorite hobbies to defeat opponents. It usually leaves your heart with joy and pride whenever you see their faces morphing into anger and embarrassment. However, none of those exhilarating feelings envelop you.

There was only grief and nostalgia gripping your already broken heart. It was a shame none of these harrowing emotions could be traced in your face—as expected of a ruthless lawyer.

You continued with your attack, "If I remember it right, this is your seven years in public service, so pray tell, Police Lieutenant Jeon Jungkook, how can you not know this basic law even student police knows?"

The mockery in your voice was palpable. Only fools wouldn't realize your intention to humiliate the interrogator. Unfortunately, Jungkook didn't give you the satisfaction of winning this game.

He soon caught up with you, "I didn't realize you keep track of my position and years of service, little miss esquire."

The burning fury was still visible on Jungkook's face, but it was now mixed with disgust. Jungkook was the type of person who'd proudly wear his heart on his sleeve, especially if it meant getting a jab at you.

It worked. A bubble of anger rushed in you when Jungkook refused to say your name and used your title as a lawyer instead. It's a poor attempt to rile you up, really. He acted as if he didn't remember your name—couldn't care less to remember it. It aimed straight at your pride—his subtle mockery crushed you, but he didn't end it with just that.

"Is it part of your schemes? Knowing what your enemies do, I mean. Do you keep track of us so you can use it to fuck us up?"

Jungkook folded his arms across his chest and jutted his chin out. He was already tall, so his current stance only made him look bigger—like he could swallow you in one go.

That's what Jungkook did in the end. He chewed you out, "I wouldn't be surprised. Seeing that your greed won against your dead best friend."

It was a low blow and Jungkook knew it, but you getting hurt never deterred him from hurting you further. 

"You know, don't you?"

You could keep your face impassive all day, but you couldn't fool Jungkook. One look at you, and he already knew you had gone from Seoul to Busan in haste. It sparked Jungkook's abhorrence even more.

"You know, and you still went here for them." The sharpness and accusation tinging his tone made you and the two teens flinch. That's when you came back to the realization that you and Jungkook were not alone in this room.

This always happened. You and Jungkook seemed to lose sight of your surroundings whenever you started fighting. Seeing Falco and Gabi's worn-out faces brought you back to the cruel reality.

This wasn't like your usual bickering with Jungkook during your high school days. This time, you two were barring your fangs and claws out, full of displaced hatred and pain because Sora was dead.

It took everything in you not to cry. Your legs were turning soft like you were about to pass out any moment from now. Jungkook's red-rimmed eyes felt like the blood that was sucked out of your heart.

"You disgust me." This was Jungkook's final words before walking away, leaving you with only a loud slam of the door.

"A-Attorney..." Gabi tried calling for you until your attention was focused on them.

You did not respond to her call but stomped in her direction. Every click of your pointed heels shook Falco and Gabi's hearts. Gone was the smug look on Gabi's face that appeared every time you came to bail her out of jail.

This case was different. She couldn't make it all go away with money. Gabi looked helpless. Her lips were quivering when she tried calling out for you again, "A-Attorney, please help us—"

Slap!

Gabi's ear hurt. In her nineteen years of existence, this was the first time someone dared lay a hand on her. Gabi was baffled yet couldn't look you in the eyes. Her head remained tilted to the side, allowing you to see the tears cascading down her left cheek.

It was Falco who tried to stop you. His eyes were full-blown panic as he tried to talk some senses into you, "Attorney, don't. Please calm--"

Slap!

You laid a hand on Falco's cheek, too. Naturally, Gabi tried defending her lover by grabbing your hand. You let her grip your right hand because it wouldn't deter you from using your other hand to slap her again.

The teens were teaming up against you. When you slap Falco, Gabi will rescue him, and vice versa. All they did was grab your hand, though. They didn't dare fight back, making it easy for you to alternately slap them until your hands ached.

In the end, the two resigned to their fate and simply allowed you to numb their cheeks with pain.

But it wasn't enough.

No amount of physical pain could equal the lives they had taken because of recklessness. The same goes for you. No amount of pain would justify dereliction of duty. As of now, you were left with no choice but to continue doing your job as a lawyer. You fished a calling card from your slacks' pocket and threw it across Falco's chest.

The calling card fell on the floor. The teens did not dare pick it up or even look at it. But your following words made their bodies tremble.

"If I were you, I'd pick that up and start calling my new lawyer, as I will no longer be representing you in court."

Gabi was wise enough to bend and reluctantly pick up the card. You wanted to step on her fingers and crush them with your pointed heels. But you did not.

Seeing tears form in Gabi's eyes when she spotted the name of the new lawyer you recommended brought you more joy than stepping on her fingers.

The new lawyer was Reiner Braun. He wasn't supposed to be a lawyer in the first place. Reiner was Gabi's cousin; their family's connection made it easy for Reiner to pass the bar despite his lack of knowledge and power. Frankly speaking, Gabi knew this. She tried to argue with you, but you cut her off with another resounding slap.

"You have the audacity to still ask me?" Unadulterated anger settled at the pit of your stomach. You were so mad you ended up laughing. You balled your hands into fists and hid them behind you. It's for the better; otherwise, you would also end up in prison because of an assault. 

"Your idiocy harmed my best friend. She and her husband died while you two fuckers remain in my line of sight—alive." You emphasized the last word with so much hatred, "So don't think even for a second that I will still be representing you in court. Because if I was..." The corner of your mouth turned up as you trailed off.

You looked at Gabi and Falco from head to toe. Only the blind couldn't see the threat dancing in your eyes. "I'll make sure you won't just lose the case. You'll get the maximum penalty, and I'll leave your ten next generations in shambles."

Falco's eyelashes fluttered. Gabi, on the other hand, gripped the card as if her life depended on it. They were resigning to their fate once more.

Good, because you could only take so much in an hour. There were still many things to patch up, and so you turned to leave, following the trail of footsteps Jungkook left.

***

Jungkook thought he was going crazy.

One would think that being in service for seven years would already desensitize his heart from crimes. He supposed that, to some extent, that was true. Unfortunately, no one had prepared Jungkook for all the negative feelings welling up in his chest as he dealt with the suspects involving the death of his loved one.

Sora.

A wave of nausea hit Jungkook as the image of Sora's dead body flashed in his mind. The feeling of helplessness was the worst punch in his gut, leaving his fist aching to beat the two teens in front of him.

Falco and Gabi remained rooted in their spot. Jungkook did not know what to do with them anymore. Whenever Falco confessed his crime, Gabi would refute it by saying it was all her fault. Jungkook couldn't care less about their heroic act; he just wanted someone to pay for Sora's death, but Falco had no plans of condemning Gabi either. He looked at Jungkook with tears, saying that Gabi was innocent.

Fucking brats! Jungkook couldn't take it anymore. He raised his fist to punch Falco; unfortunately, you barged into the room and ruined everything. It's bad enough that Jungkook didn't get to beat up Falco. How dare you destroy his evidence, too!?

"Damn it!" Jungkook kicked the pebbles outside the station. He initially left the interrogation room to cool down a little, but Jimin, his comrade, stopped him from getting back inside. Apparently, you told Jimin about that bullshit called the Bill of Rights.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook. Captain Yoongi called. He told me to get you out of the station as soon as possible. You're barred from participating in this investigation. Captain Yoongi is on his way now. He'll be the one interrogating the suspects."

"You can't do this to me, Jimin." Jungkook shook his head, refusing the Captain's order. "Sora's my best friend. You are her friend too! We need to avenge her!"

Jimin surely loved Sora, too, so he understood Jungkook to some extent. But he knew Captain Yoongi's decision was for the better. Jungkook was currently not in the right state of mind. He was grieving. Bloodlust was apparent in his eyes. If he wasn't careful enough, he might ruin this case.

"Go home, Jungkook." Jimin held Jungkook's shoulder firmly, "Or help Taehyung with the arrangement. He's alone and hurting, too."

Right. Jungkook's heart throbbed painfully in his chest as he thought about Taehyung. If anyone's hurting beyond repair right now, it had to be Taehyung. The latter and Sora were like inseparable twins.

Jungkook wanted to see Taehyung after interrogating Falco and Gabi—a form of consolation, if you might. Regrettably, it wasn't possible now, and it was your fault. Nothing ever went Jungkook's way when you were around.

You and Jungkook have known each other since you were kids. You were from the same street in Busan, so it was almost impossible not to see his face daily. You two were even classmates in your schooling days. In fact, you and Jungkook were pretty popular in school, but not for a good reason. 

You two made people want to pull their hair out as you took being rivals too seriously. You argued about the smallest thing, wanting to appear as the stronger one, the smarter one, and the braver one.

But the thing was, your fights with Jungkook were never serious. It was more like teenage bickering. Admittedly, the whole school knew you, Sora, Jungkook, and Taehyung as the Idiot Quartet. Sora and Taehyung played pranks on everyone and did not care much about their academic performance. Meanwhile, you and Jungkook were academic rivals who went out of your way to win against the other. It was so petty that the other students thought you were idiots.

The anger Jungkook felt for you years ago was still apparent today, but he couldn't deny that it changed into something worse.

Hatred.

He'd known you for an ambitious woman who never backed down. You weren't content with your life in Busan and thus moved to Seoul. That part was naturally acceptable. What Jungkook couldn't accept was you casting aside your friendship with Sora for money and power.

You truly exceeded his worst expectations of you. Jungkook clenched his jaw and hands, swearing that you were his enemy from today onwards.

***

Contrary to popular belief, Sora was not an idiot. She had planned not just her life but also her death. This ensured that the living wouldn't be burdened by her passing.

Admittedly, you were involved in the preparations she made. As a lawyer, Sora sought your service to make writing her will easier. It happened three years ago:

Sora recently gave birth to a baby girl named Hanni. The child had blond hair like her father. She was too cute for her own good, so you didn't understand how Sora had the heart to think about death when she had a growing little angel by her side.

It wasn't fair to leave Hanni without a mother in this world.

"This is called safeguarding my baby's future." Sora reasoned out while writing down her 'will.' Her tongue was sticking out, and her brows were pinched together, indicating that she was serious about this ordeal.

It made you sigh.

"Okay! I've finalized the distribution of my...what do you call it again? Estate?"

"Assets." You corrected her firmly. Assets were for the living, and the estate was for the dead. You refused to associate your best friend with anything related to death. It was evident by the way your lips protruded into a sulky pout. You hated having this conversation with her.

"Asset, estate, or whatever you call it. I don't really care as long as it's done. Now, come here and notarize it. I've heard I need a witness when finalizing my will. You are my witness."

"I refuse." You turned away from Sora and busied yourself, caressing Hanni's tiny fist. "Your mum is cruel, isn't she, little one?"

Sora rolled her eyes and huffed, "It's for her sake, you know. Can't you see my situation now? I'm an orphan. My parents died when I could barely say a full sentence."

Sora always felt she inherited the curse of her parents dying young. It was unfair to disregard this thought as she was sure Hanni would be the lonely one carrying the burden once it happened.

"I'm assigning legal guardians for my child. Niccolo is number one, but I can't be too complacent." Sora released a deep breath. She wasn't sure if it was a good thing that her husband was crazy in love with her. It felt like he was willing to follow her even in death.

"Hear that, Hanni? Your mum is giving you away. Say bad, mummy, bad!" You carried Hanni into your arms while glaring at Sora. You couldn't believe your best friend traveled to Seoul with her little child just to say this bullshit.

"Stop being so dramatic," Sora lost count of how many times she had rolled her eyes. "It's not like I'm giving her to a stranger."

"Huh." You wiped Hanni's drool before casting a curious look at her mom, "Who are you naming her guardian, then? Jongsuk and Ji-eun?"

"Nope." Sora sounded disappointed. "I wanted to, but you know how busy they are with their two kids."

"Jongsuk is fucking rich. I'm sure they can afford to feed one more kid." You decided to humor Sora after realizing you couldn't change her mind.

Unfortunately, Sora deflated. "You bet. They have three more children coming."

"What the fuck?" You laid Hanni back in her crib, afraid you'd drop her after Sora dropped a bomb on you. "Are you telling me Ji-eun is pregnant again? And triplets?"

Sora's grin was wide. She wiggled her brows in excitement.

You were dumbfounded. "Seriously? What the fuck is wrong with Jongsuk!?"

Didn't Ji-eun just give birth last year!? What did Jongsuk plan on doing?

"Ah, duh? Have you seen Ji-eun? If I were Jongsuk, I'd do the same."

You pondered for a second. It didn't take you long to agree with your best friend. Damn right, Ji-eun was hot. If you didn't have the unfortunate curse of liking straight men, you bet you'd be pursuing Ji-eun relentlessly. She wasn't just a pretty face. Ji-eun was tantamount to what people called 'The Man.' Perhaps even better than the phrase.

Suddenly, you understood why a certain someone was head over heels with her.

"You're thinking about Jungkook, aren't you?"

You whipped your head up and met Sora's teasing eyes. You were about to refute her absurdity, but she beat you to it.

"Don't deny it. I know your 'I'm thinking about Jungkook' face. It's so obvious! Your brows become one, and your frown couldn't be any deeper!"

"That's right," you relaxed a little. "It's cause I hate him. I can't even crack a fake smile whenever I think about his stupid face."

Your disgusted face wasn't fooling anyone, though. But Sora didn't expose you. She just riled you up, "Well, at least his stupid face is popular with girls. Did you know? Niccolo has been setting Jungkook up with his foreign friends. Ah! Right!" The spark in her eyes was blinding. 

"Jungkook has a blind date tonight. I've heard he's meeting a supermodel from Italy. She's the same—hey, hey! What are you doing!?"

Sora's eyes dilated upon seeing you gripping her baby's toy tightly. She snatched it from you and gasped, "What's gotten you so worked up? You broke Hanni's toy! This is her favorite!" And Jungkook was the one who gave the baby that toy. Sora didn't dare tell you as you might destroy it further.

You wouldn't do it, though. You actually felt guilty for letting out your inexplicable anger to the toy, "Sorry. I'd buy Hanni a new one, yeah?"

"You better!" Sora let it go and went back to drafting her will. She continued pestering you about some law jargon until your head hurt.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop now." Sora put the documents inside a brown box and handed it to you. "Here it is. My final will. I'm giving it to you for safekeeping."

"Huh," you snorted but still accepted the box. You handed Sora a similar package. "I gave you a Christmas present, and I get your will in return? Unfair."

You couldn't help but toss the brown box under your bed. You hoped there wouldn't be a time when you'd be forced to open that damn box.

Sora's eyes creased, "I'll buy you the prettiest present next time, okay?" Then she kissed your cheek, "Thanks for this lovely shirt! I love it so much."

"White suits you the most." You're like my angel, Sora. "I got mine in black so we could match."

"Cool!" Sora turned to her daughter. "You hear that, Hanni? Your Godmother wants to match with me. You need to find someone like her in the future, okay?"

Hanni giggled as if she understood her mother. It warmed your heart seeing them like this. Unfortunately, this precious moment would soon be taken away from them.

Come to think of it, everything that transpired three years ago was like a sick premonition of what would happen tonight. Wasn't it funny? Sora died wearing the clothes you'd gifted her, and now here you were, forced to open the brown box you hated with passion.

Sora prepared everything. Inside the box were her will and handwritten letters for her daughter and friends. Unsurprisingly, she didn't leave a note for Niccolo.

It's like Sora knew.

"I hate you," you whimpered lowly as you hugged Sora's letter. I hate you for leaving me. I hate you for being right. I hate you. I hate you so much, Kang Sora.

***

Since Sora was an orphan, Taehyung, as her friend, was qualified to make the arrangements for her and her husband's remains. This was also because he was the one who registered their death after Doctor Kim Seokjin announced the time of their passing.

Jungkook wanted to help Taehyung out, but Taehyung said he could handle it himself and that it would be better for Jungkook to care for Hanni instead.

Hanni was at home with her temporary babysitter. Niccolo was a chef at his restaurant, while Sora was the head manager there. They usually didn't have enough time to care for Hanni, so they hired a nighttime caregiver for their kid. Hanni attended daycare in the morning, which was one less worry for her parents.

The babysitter's shift ended a few hours ago, though. Jungkook had no choice but to rush to the Kang' residence.

Jungkook had an apology ready at the tip of his tongue and thousands of won to appease the babysitter for working overtime. He was surprised when he didn't see the cute babysitter and instead saw a temptress wearing a suit.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jungkook spat as he raised his guard up. Who else could he be talking to besides you? You were the only person who could annoy him until steam came off his ears.

Weren't you just at the police station? Jungkook quickly glanced at his wristwatch. The time was 10:15pm. You arrived to wreak havoc in the interrogation room at around 9:00pm. Were you that good of a lawyer to escape Captain Yoongi's inquest in just an hour?

Looking at you, it seemed you had been here for quite some time now. Hanni happily snuggled in your arms while sucking on her milk bottle. The baby looked sleepy, unaware that her parents had already crossed the afterlife road.

Jungkook felt his heart tighten. Did you go here to use Hanni as leverage to help free those damned murderers? Thinking about your menacing schemes, Jungkook couldn't help but raise his hand to snatch Hanni away from your embrace.

"Let go of Hanni now!" Jungkook gnashed his teeth, deliberating on calling the police on you, but then he remembered he was also a police officer. Right. If he wanted to, he could arrest you for using an innocent kid to your advantage.

"Will you stop being so dramatic?" you recognized Jungkook's intention, so you rolled your eyes at his stupidity. You also laid Hanni back inside her crib but didn't do it to appease Jungkook. It was because your arms were starting to get numb from carrying her—not to mention that your chest was covered in Hanni's spilled milk, too.

Jungkook's line of sight focused on your chest, not knowing what to make out of it as you gently wipe the milk with your bare hand.

You pretended not to see him swallowing thickly and struggling to look away from you. "Relax, will you? Your tiny brain might not comprehend it, but I'm telling you now. I am not here to harm Hanni. I'm her godparent, after all—just like you."

Your busy work schedule did not allow you to see Hanni all the time, but Sora made sure to video call you whenever she had the chance. Frankly speaking, seeing your goddaughter after a tiring day calmed you down. Hanni was your sweet butterfly. You loved her to death.

"And for the record, I am not representing Gabi and Falco in court."

Your sharp tone made Jungkook stop. His intense gaze studied you. This time, your face wasn't devoid of emotions. He could see fire in your eyes—as if you were ready to burn anyone who dared oppose you.

"T-Then," Jungkook's Adam's apple bobbed, "Why'd you destroy my evidence?" It took him hours to force confessions out of those bastards. He doubted that was enough as Falco and Gabi kept protecting each other, but still...

"How are you even a police lieutenant? Did Chief Kim bump his head before promoting you?"

Jungkook was offended and wanted to argue, but you gave him no chance.

"The evidence you've gathered is inadmissible to court. It's fucking illegal, idiot. Those brats could've filed a case against you if I hadn't destroyed the evidence of your idiocy."

Simply put, you had protected Jungkook from incrimination. "What happened to the Jungkook I know? Didn't you always hate Jongsuk Lee for being a suicidal maniac?"

The Idiot Quartet was good friends with Jongsuk and Ji-eun, too. You had known them since childhood. If your group was called the Idiot Quartet, then Ji-eun, Jongsuk, and Jimin were known as the Powerhouse Trio. The three were good in academics and sports, but Jongsuk fell short of a good attitude. Jongsuk was ridiculously impatient that he would not hesitate to charge recklessly, even at the expense of his life. Jongsuk was a police officer like Jungkook. It was just that Chief Namjoon Kim assigned Jongsuk to the special operation squad.

Jongsuk was a sore spot for Jungkook as it seemed like whatever Jungkook wanted, Jongsuk had. 

Truth be told, Jungkook scoffed at the mention of Jongsuk's name. He glared at you, "I'm nothing like that suicidal maniac. Don't compare me to him." 

You shrugged and did not push it. Fighting Jungkook tonight was not worthy of your time. There was a more pressing issue to discuss.

"Anyway, I'm not involved with Gabi and Falco anymore. You can rest assured."

Jungkook didn't want to fight you either. He was tired. He only wanted to honor his dead best friend. "It's good that you didn't completely stray the wrong path."

Surprisingly, the seed of hatred Jungkook planted in his heart had been dug up at the speed of light. You see, he wasn't muddle-headed like you claimed. Jungkook got irritated by your mere presence and sharp mouth, but hating someone without apparent reason was beyond him.

Maybe he could trust you? Thinking about this, Jungkook tried to push his luck, "So, if you aren't going to be those brats' lawyer, does it mean you came here to represent Sora and Niccolo?"

You just said you did not want to fight him, but on God, was he testing your patience. It took everything in you not to mock him, "I am a defense lawyer, smart-ass. This is a criminal case; it's those brats against the general public. Sora and Niccolo must be represented by a prosecutor. I trust you know the difference between a pro—"

"I know! I get it already. Stop it." Jungkook's cheeks turned crimson when he realized his mistake. His brain must have short-circuited because of the awkwardness and the milk on your chest—damn it, there was still traces of milk in your cleavage.

Jungkook forced himself to look away, making the corner of your lips turn up. 

"It's Ji-eun." You said abruptly and without context. Jungkook looked at you, confused.

You sighed, "Ji-eun is a prosecutor, which I'm guessing you're very familiar with."

Of course, Jungkook knew precisely what Ji-eun did for a living. It was the main reason Jungkook fell in love with Ji-eun—he thought she was cool for upholding justice.

Jungkook had this illusion that he and Ji-eun complemented each other, mainly because both their line of work involved helping ordinary people. It was the complete opposite of what you do. In Jungkook's vocabulary, you were a scum—defending criminals who ruined the balance of the world.

"I called Ji-eun earlier. She agreed, but we have yet to discuss the details. The legalities of the case can be postponed for now. There's something urgent we need to address first." Jungkook recognized the seriousness in your tone. He furrowed a brow and listened to you intently.

"Sora named me as the executor of her will." Your face turned solemn, side glancing at Hanni, who was sound asleep. Your heart ached for her. "She has written notes to everyone, including us."

Jungkook watched you pick up a brown box on the floor. That's when he noticed the suitcase next to it.

Wait—Jungkook's eyes shrunk. Is that your suitcase?

His question was soon answered when you handed Sora's letter to him. Jungkook immediately tore it open, skimming through its contents.

His eyes widened comically upon reading the most ridiculous request of all times:

Sora was leaving Hanni in your and Jungkook's care.

What the fuck.

***

Taehyung felt floating as he took the way to Sora's house. It was past ten in the evening, meaning it took him hours to arrange Sora and Niccolo's funeral.

He was physically exhausted from having to go from place to place. Fortunately, he had a bit of time to rest since Sora and Niccolo's bodies were still at the mortuary. Taehyung thought he'd check up on Hanni first, then ask Jungkook to tidy the Kang' residence to make it a decent place to hold the wake. Sadly, Taehyung's plans went haywire as soon as he stepped inside the house.

"Oh, yeah? Why don't you tell that to yourself, you mama's boy!? I'm not the one who has an Oedipus complex!"

Taehyung watched as Jungkook's complexion turned red because of anger. He rolled the sleeves of his police uniform, seemingly ready to fight you.

"Well, fuck you and your mommy issues. Just admit you're jealous I have a kind mom. It's not my fault your mom only loves you whenever you achieve something that will boost her ego!"

Violence was never the answer, but you couldn't help but pick up one of Hanni's toys and throw it at Jungkook's broad chest. You screamed at him, "What the fuck is wrong with you!?" He was hitting you where it hurt.

"No, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Jungkook threw the question back at you. You were the one who pissed him off first.

Sadly, Taehyung did not care whose fault it was. He just wanted this petty fight to end, so he screamed before you or Jungkook started going at each other again.

"What the hell is happening here?" Taehyung was the type of friend who goofed around a lot, though no one could deny he was the most scary when angered. Just the sound of his voice was enough to stain your and Jungkook's back with cold sweat. Almost at once, Jungkook kept his mouth shut.

Conversely, you smiled awkwardly at Taehyung and acted oblivious, "Hi, Taehyung. Didn't see you there."

Jungkook held back a scoff at how fast you changed your annoying tone to a saccharine one. Your eyes even crinkled with fondness. Damn it. You were such a great pretender! Weren't you just acting like a dragon and breathing fire in Jungkook's direction? Taehyung saw it, too, preventing you from escaping this mess.

"How can you see me when you're busy fighting Jungkook again?" Taehyung huffed and shook his head in disappointment, "You two never changed, do you? To think of fighting in the presence of your dead best friend's kid. Have you no shame?"

As said, it was common knowledge not to anger Taehyung, yet no one warned you how scary he was when he couldn't bring himself to be angry anymore. Right now, Taehyung was just tired of your bullshit.

Remorse seeped into your heart. Truth be told, you knew where Taehyung was coming from. You and Jungkook were both adults, yet you failed to act like one. You didn't even know how your fight started. All you remembered was Jungkook vehemently opposing Sora's decision to leave Hanni to you and his care.

He thought you were undeserving of looking after a small child. You got mad, saying he had high expectations for female guardians because of his weird relationship with his mother.

Of course, it wasn't true. But you were so pissed you couldn't stop spouting nonsense. Truthfully, you could have gone forever with your insults had it not been for Taehyung's arrival.

"Don't take it seriously, Taehyung. We're just fooling around to cheer up Hanni. We thought some loud noises would divert her attention to something else." Jungkook added unhelpfully.

Taehyung pressed his lips into a thin line and looked at Hanni, who was sleeping peacefully: "...."

"Haha," You laughed in embarrassment and were forced to playfully smack Jungkook's biceps. "See? Our loudness helped Hanni sleep. Didn't Sora always sing her a goodnight song? We did it too!"

"Yes!" Jungkook gathered some files on the floor. The both of you had thrown them in the midst of fighting. The Kang' residence was a mess because of you two's silliness.

"Anyway, didn't you say the wake will be held here? Why don't you rest first? We'll take it from here. Right, Jungkook?"

Taehyung watched the two of you for a while before resigning to the guest room. He heard your whispered sighs but didn't mind as you quickly resolved it with a temporary truce.

Taehyung sighed and looked at the white ceiling. The tears he had repressed all night finally cascaded down his cheeks.

He sobbed quietly and thought about the dead, "You really have idiots as your best friends, Sora."

***

Sora and Niccolo's wake would be held for one day only. Tomorrow was the scheduled funeral, so all the departed's friends gathered at the Kang' residence for the final goodbye. You and Jungkook behaved this time—your temporary truce helped you welcome the guests without hiccups.

Ji-eun and Jongsuk arrived in the morning with their five children. It was a blessing in disguise, really. Jongsuk took care of the kids, including Hanni, while you and Ji-eun discussed the legalities of the case filed against Gabi and Falco. Captain Yoongi joined the discussion, too.

Yoongi lived in your neighborhood as well. He used to teach kids your age some self-defense tricks. He was specifically fond of Sora as she made unconventional defenses easier to execute. Looking back, you realize Sora was the glue holding the group together. There were moments you couldn't tolerate the extremity of Captain Yoongi's training, but Sora persuaded you and the others to be more patient and courageous.

"Thanks for doing this, Captain." You smiled softly at Yoongi. He merely raised a brow, drank his tea, and said, "Not a problem. This isn't a formal discussion."

The Captain didn't want to disrespect the solemnity of the wake, so he invited you and Ji-eun to talk in his office after the funeral. He only joined today's talk to say some urgent matters.

"I thought you should know beforehand that we have a strong case, mainly because the incident was captured by cameras. However, we have a formidable opponent. Annie Leonhart is defending those brats in court."

Your stomach knotted with bitterness upon hearing that. Annie Leonhart was indeed a formidable lawyer. However, you couldn't deny that your heart felt at ease when you met Ji-eun's unyielding gaze. Yes, you couldn't forget that this prosecutor never lost a case. She would do Sora justice.

It wouldn't be too difficult as long as dumb people didn't interfere. 

Jungkook. Your brain immediately thought of Jungkook as he was the only one you could associate with the word dumb.

Just like now, Jungkook was standing in the corner of the room while staring at your group dumbly—scratch that, it was obvious he had his puppy eyes focused on Ji-eun.

You rolled your eyes. Of fucking course. How could you forget that this dumbass was in love with Prosecutor Lee? Did the fact that she was already married ever stop Jungkook from pining after Ji-eun? No.

"Attorney, Captain, will you excuse me for a moment?" You gritted your teeth while your gaze was still trained on Jungkook. The two Mins did not hold you back, making it easier for you to instantly trudge over Jungkook's direction.

"Hey, loser. I wanted to quote Article 333 of the family code for you, but then I remembered Ji-eun will never commit adultery, more so if it's with your sorry ass." You smirked at Jungkook, rage still boiling within you.

You were not the only one annoyed, though. Jungkook looked at you in disbelief; his eyebrows pinched together as he huffed, "What is it this time? I'm not doing anything!"

"You're not fooling anyone here, asshole. Don't think for a moment that I don't see you looking pathetically at Mrs. Lee."

"The heck are you on?"

"That you're in love with Ji-eun? That's the only reason why you're looking in our direction." You rolled your eyes, looking smug. "Unless you had a change of heart and are now pining after Captain Yoongi—which I'm not opposed to, by the way. I'm all for gay rights. You might be too late, though. I think he's a little too in love with your Chief Police Kim."

You shook your head in pity for Jungkook. Ji-eun and Yoongi were cousins. Why did Jungkook seem to only like Mins, who were already in love with someone else?

"Will you shut up?" Jungkook's jaw ticked. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He looked panicked.

You snickered, "Oh, no. Is Jungkook-boy shy—" 

"I'm looking at you, damn it!" Jungkook seized your wrist and pulled you closer to him. From the outside's point of view, it looked like Jungkook was some gang leader bullying a helpless girl. But that's the thing. Only his looks were imposing—Jungkook's grey suit perfectly hugged his toned body. His hairstyle drastically changed since your teenage years, too. Per the police officer standard, Jungkook was now sporting an undercut that made his jaw look more chiseled. His aura was intimidating, but only you knew how gently he had pulled you close to his body.

Jungkook whispered into your ears, "I'm worried, alright? I need your help. Can you see those two women sitting by the window? They've been here since morning, and they're watching you and me—us. I don't seem to recall their faces. Sora and Niccolo were not related to them in any way either."

Jungkook had met the people around the married couple. He knew even the customers in Sora and Niccolo's restaurant. This was the first time Jungkook was seeing these women.

You were alerted, too. It was uncommon for strangers to attend the departed's wake, so these two women could either be from Falco and Gabi's side or...

Your eyes widened at the sudden realization. Unfortunately, before you could warn Jungkook, the two ladies had already noticed your gaze and immediately walked in your direction.

"Hi there. My name is Frieda, and this is my coworker, Ms. Kiyomi. We're social workers assigned by the local government to check on orphans."

"It's nice to meet you." Thankfully, you had no problems switching gears. Being a lawyer taught you to fake pleasantries despite shaking on the inside. As expected, these two women were social workers here to see Hanni's condition. Regrettably, you had failed to discuss this earlier with Jungkook.

"I know this is not the best time to visit, but we're just concerned about the little girl. Hanni, that's her name, right?" Kiyomi was an old woman who appeared strict and conservative. Her smile made your eyes twitch. "I take it you're the host of this wake. Do you mind sharing with us if Mr. Niccolo and his wife assigned a legal guardian for Hanni?"

"Legal guardians, actually." You mirrored Kiyomi's smile. "I'm the family's lawyer and Sora's childhood best friend. She has left her notarized will with me. I can send you both the hard and soft copy any time."

"That's good to hear," Frieda answered, "But right now, we want to personally meet the assigned guardians. Where is Hanni, by the way?"

"Hanni is sleeping in her room with SWAT officer Lee's children, right, babe?"

"Huh?" Jungkook asked dumbly when he felt your hand encircling his biceps. To say he was shocked by your term of endearment would be an understatement because what the fuck? Did you just call him babe?

"A little absentminded, are we?" You chuckled awkwardly and pinched Jungkook's biceps 'lovingly' Damn, was he ripped. "Forgive my fiancé, lovely ladies. He's just a bit tired after pulling an all-nighter to arrange our best friends' wake and trying to pacify little Hanni."

"Oh," Kiyomi's eyes lit up. "You're the assigned guardians, I suppose?"

"Yes, we are." You felt Jungkook stiffen when you leaned your head onto his biceps. You originally wanted to lean on his shoulder, but he was too tall. You guessed it didn't matter as long as you had skin contact with Jungkook.

Kiyomi didn't seem to be convinced, though. Her keen eyes wandered over yours and Jungkook's empty ring fingers.

"Ah!" You grabbed Jungkook's left hand and intertwined your fingers with his. "We removed our engagement rings for now. You know, Hanni's at the age where she just likes sucking onto everything. You can't have a kid swallowing a diamond, can you?"

The two women laughed at your lame joke. Meanwhile, Jungkook's face still couldn't be painted. Every part of his being urged him to push you away, but he had a hunch that would be unwise.

Jungkook looked at the two ladies before side-eyeing you. He felt like losing to a sick game, which didn't sit well with him. Jungkook hated it when you were one step ahead, so he played your game despite not knowing the rules.

He grabbed your interlaced fingers and kissed them. "Don't worry, hon. The ring is just for aesthetic purposes. I am still yours without it."

"Oh, my. What a lovely couple!" Kiyomi finally fell into your gimmick. She rubbed her chest as if what she saw warmed her heart, "It's getting late. People are coming, why don't you go and welcome them? Frieda and I are just leaving."

You calmed your beating heart before answering the old lady, "Don't you wanna see Hanni first?"

Frieda and Kiyomi fell silent and seemed to be hesitant. Hearing SWAT officer Lee's name actually scared them. They were afraid of offending Jongsuk. Kids were especially fussy when their nap was disturbed, yes?

"No need. We have already imposed too much. Why don't we schedule a meeting after the funeral?" Frieda raised her brow.

"Sounds lovely. Wait a second. We'll give you our contact information."

The two social workers finally left after exchanging contact details and a few more pleasantries. Your hand was still enveloped by Jungkook's big, warm hand. He took this as an opportunity to lightly drag you into an empty room.

"What the hell just happened there?" For someone who's confused, Jungkook sure enjoyed holding your hand. His grip tightened when you laughed mockingly.

"You called me hon—cringe, by the way—but you can't grasp what happened there? Are you for real?"

"Just answer the damn question!" Jungkook's ears were red. He swore he wasn't stupid. You were just making him appear to be like that. "And as if you're any better. Calling me babe, really? And fiancé? Who the hell wants to marry you!?"

"Let go!" You wriggled out of his grasp, yet Jungkook did not let you go. He pulled you close to him and stared at you intently.

"No." Jungkook jutted his chin. "Not unless you explain what that was all about."

Looking at Jungkook's eyes made you shudder. You knew him. He was stubborn. Seeing the determination in his eyes, you realized it was wise not to tease him any further. Jungkook was many things, but he never joked about romantic feelings. Call it old school, but he already regretted playing your game. How could he forget how much of a menace you were?

"I'm not making fun of you, alright? I had to pretend we're lovers, for Hanni's sake." You explained to Jungkook that most social workers were vicious when doing their jobs. Kiyomi was an old lady. Of course, she'd prefer to see Hanni with a loving and complete family as her guardians. She had the power to manipulate the judge's decision. You were afraid she would suggest assigning Hanni to strangers who could give her an illusion of a 'happy family.'

"So are you saying we have to pretend we're dating in front of those social workers?" Jungkook wasn't unreasonable. He was willing to hear your ridiculous idea if this meant keeping Hanni in a safe space.

"Well," you sighed in lament. "Not just in front of the social workers, unfortunately. Kiyomi and Frieda might interview anyone in our circle. It will be bad if they find out we're lying, worse, that we hate each other."

"I don't hate you, though." Jungkook's response was immediate. He creased his forehead as if not understanding what you said. "But I find you extremely annoying."

"The feeling is mutual." You exerted all your energy to wriggle out of his grasp. 

Jungkook smirked and thought of getting back at you for getting him all flustered before those social workers, "Eh? Are you getting sick of my touch already? Careful. We might have to do more than hold hands to convince people we're to be married."

"You are so..." You trailed off because of irritation. "Irrational and a hypocrite! Don't you hate faking romantic things with me?" And aren't you in love with Ji-eun?

Jungkook shrugged nonchalantly; a smirk was still plastered on his lips. "I adapt fast. I can tolerate your annoying face, for Hanni's sake." 

He pinched your cheek.

You slapped his hand away and squared your shoulders. Damn you, Jungkook Jeon.

"Bring it on, then."

***

Bullshit.

Your claim against Jungkook to 'bring it on" was complete and utter bullshit. Not only was it difficult, but it was also unrealistic and close to being impossible. Truthfully, you two did not feel it at once, mainly because you were busy with the funeral and had your other friends help you with Hanni.

Now, however...

"Terni, I'm sorry," Hanni's bright eyes glistened with tears as she stared at you. She was only three, but surprisingly, she could already pronounce words clearly—except maybe the word attorney.

Sora told her daughter to call you 'Attorney' so the little one could brag to people about having a cool godmother who was a lawyer. Hanni was an intelligent child. Admittedly, you suspected she could actually pronounce the word attorney correctly. She simply preferred calling you Terni as it was cuter and perhaps because it was easier to escape your wrath.

Hanni accidentally spilled a full glass of her favorite chocolate drink on your work documents. These were all related to the cases you told your secretary to cancel when you found out Sora died. Unfortunately, your words held no weight as you still needed to take on these cases—whether you wanted to or not. Besides, your mourning period was coming to an end. Sora and Niccolo had found their resting place already. Your only worry was Hanni and your pending cases.

"It's okay, darling." The side of your upper lip twitched while you threw the files in the trash bin. You kept reminding yourself that lashing out at a three-year-old kid was unreasonable. 

'But it's not unreasonable to displace your anger to a certain police lieutenant.' The voice inside your head supplied. You smirked, feeling enlightened. Obviously, you were going to listen to the voice. Every chance you got to annoy Jungkook was gold.

"Why don't I put you in your crib first? Terni will just talk to Jungkook-boy, okay?"

Because she knew she was at fault here, Hanni nodded and let you carry her back to her room. The Kang' residence was quite big. You, Hanni, and Jungkook each had your own rooms. The master bedroom remained untouched, though. You didn't have the heart to invade the late couple's personal space. Besides, you were only temporarily residing here. This was not your house, and Hanni was not your child—you weren't even fully recognized by the court as Hanni's guardian. This could all be taken away from you sooner or later.

It was better not to get attached and keep things as they were. Taking this into consideration, you went to the kitchen to annoy Jungkook. Unfortunately, you were only able to say a few words before your face and mind blanked out. Clearly, no one prepared you on how to react seeing Jungkook buzzing around the kitchen while washing dishes—the same dishes you and Hanni used for breakfast this morning.

Jungkook wore washing gloves; soap suds painted his left cheek while pots and plates surrounded him. 

"What'd you say again?" Jungkook spared you a glance, washing the mug you used for coffee earlier.

You swallowed thickly and forced your eyes away from the dishes. You originally wanted to chastise him for slacking off and not bringing Hanni to the daycare center on time. If Hanni was at the daycare, then your files wouldn't get soaked up in a chocolate drink in the first place. You couldn't blame him now, could you? Not when he was busy cleaning the kitchen after preparing breakfast for you and Hanni.

In your defense, you did not ask him to cook for you, too. You woke up with the smell of pancakes, bacon, and eggs wafting inside your room. Of course, you got up to scold him for not turning on the exhaust hood.

"You're awake?" You remembered Jungkook raising a brow upon seeing you. Hanni was already sitting on her high chair; her mouth was watering because of how good her breakfast smelled. "Come on, join us for breakfast."

You swallowed the insults at the tip of your tongue as Jungkook placed two big plates and a small one on the table.

"I don't eat breakfast," you said indifferently. It was true. When you reach your office, your secretary will have a cup of macadamia-flavored coffee ready. That was the only thing you had for breakfast. It had probably been years since you'd eaten anything solid during the morning.

Jungkook seemed to misunderstand your response, though. He thought you just didn't like to eat what he cooked. He taunted you, "There's no poison here, Empress. Your lowly male concubines have tasted the food for you."

To demonstrate, Jungkook swallowed a spoonful of bacon and pancakes.

"You're mistaken. You are no concubine of mine." You sneered but took a seat to eat. "You're merely my eunuch."

Teenager Jungkook would have turned red-faced and just cussed you out, but he grew up, and those blind dates with countless supermodels had improved his confidence. Jungkook pressed his hand on the table and peered down at you. His broad chest was inches away from your face.

"Now, that would be misleading, Empress. Can a eunuch have this?" He didn't use words, merely gesturing toward himself, particularly on the lower portion of his body.

The teenager you would have turned pissed and just cussed Jungkook out, but despite maturing into an adult woman, you still couldn't handle jokes like this, causing your face to turn scPark.

Jungkook chuckled at your reaction but didn't push you anymore. He liked pressing your buttons, though not to the point of making you uncomfortable. He was not an ass.

"Let's just eat, alright?"

Jungkook happily agreed and put some food on your plate. You merely glanced at it before playing it cool by opening up another topic, "It's your turn to send Hanni to daycare today, right? Her class is at 7am. Her teacher said she could go back to class but is welcome to extend her break."

Hanni's parents just died, after all. Besides, it wasn't a formal school. The daycare was established as a consideration for children who had working parents.

"Yes, I'll bathe her today. too, then we'll go to the center after." Jungkook smeared maple syrup on Hanni's pancakes. He had added finely cut grapes on top of it as he was afraid Hanni would choke on the circled fruit.

"Good. I'll finish some work today," you said as a form of respect.

You and Jungkook decided to co-parent Hanni and see if you could commit to it. Jungkook was assigned to take care of Hanni from Monday to Wednesday. Meanwhile, your schedule was from Thursday to Saturday. This included sending Hanni to school, feeding, bathing, and playing with her. Sunday was your only free day, as Hanni would be in the care of your friends. Captain Yoongi and Chief Namjoon said they'd bring Hanni out to play this Sunday.

It was a relief, really. You need to go back to Seoul this Sunday to finish some work and formally announce to your subordinates and clients that you will be moving to Busan for the time being. Your schedule this week was jampacked. Fortunately, Kiyomi and Frieda postponed the meeting and said they would inform you at their earliest convenience. As it turned out, those social workers weren't utterly heartless as they intended to give you and Jungkook a breather until the settlement of Sora and Niccolo's case.

Right. That was another concern of yours. You turned to Jungkook, "What time is your lunch break? I'm meeting up with Prosecutor Lee and Captain Yoongi this afternoon. Wanna join us?"

You and Jungkook played well when you were teaming up instead of being rivals. He shook his head in lament, "I can't. I have to finish some work at the station too. Just fill me in with the details later."

"Alright." You continued eating after that. Surprisingly, the breakfast with Hanni and Jungkook went well. Your morning would have been perfect hadn't been for Hanni messing up your files—which led you back to staring dumbly at Jungkook, who was still busy cleaning up the kitchen.

It was past seven in the morning. You were busy working and weren't able to track time. "Didn't you say you would send Hanni to daycare today? Why haven't you?"

"Oh." Jungkook scratched the back of his head. "I called the teacher and informed her that Hanni isn't coming today." Jungkook let Hanni walk around the house and find you. He guessed it was his fault for having too much confidence in a three-year-old kid. Of course, giving Hanni a chocolate drink wasn't a guarantee that she would be able to tell you she wasn't going to school today. Jungkook was too much of a pussy to tell you himself. He knew how you were when working. You would breathe fire at him for disturbing you.

"Why, though?" You puffed out air, "We can't keep doing this, you know? Hanni needs to socialize with other people." It wasn't that you wanted Hanni to forget her parents, but lately, Hanni had been asking where her mum and dad went. You and Jungkook hadn't discussed a healthy way to go over such a sensitive topic. Besides, you and Jungkook were working adults who needed time to do their jobs. You couldn't spend all day looking after Hanni.

"I know, but she sneezed twice this morning. It's already so cold outside. What if she catches the flu?"

"Oh, my gosh, you overprotective dumbass." You rolled your eyes at Jungkook, but the latter shrugged it off. You could call him whatever you wanted. However, he couldn't risk his goddaughter getting sick.

"I'll go to work in a while and drop by Hanni's doctor after my shift. I'll inquire about her medical records and see if we can get her a flu vaccine. Don't worry," Jungkook's eyes were thoughtful. "It's Monday, so I'll take care of everything myself. You can go to work today. I'll just text you if something comes up."

The day wasn't even halfway done, but you found yourself agreeing to Jungkook without a need for a fight. This was new, and you found it surprisingly refreshing.

"Fine." You acquiesced as the urge to blame him for your soaked files disappeared. Maybe you were wrong—maybe, just maybe, co-parenting Hanni with Jungkook wasn't as bad as you imagined.

***

Your afternoon turned out to be hectic, so the meeting with the two Mins was pushed to 3pm. Captain Yoongi invited you to a tea shop as it was quieter there.

"I personally think we have no shot in filing a murder case against those brats." Chamomile tea wasn't enough to calm you down as you looked at the crime pictures again.

Sora was sprawled on the cold ground; the pool of blood made you wanna puke. It didn't help that Ji-eun was drinking a strawberry-flavored tea.

"You're right. Given the elements of a murder, two are not present. Mens rea and actus rus," Ji-eun voiced out the legal terms. According to Captain Yoongi, Gabi and Falco gave consistent explanations during the interrogation. It was similar to what they told your secretary.

The teens did not intend to kill Sora and her husband. They were merely trying throttle therapy, which, unfortunately, went wrong.

Falco said he switched lanes to avoid crashing into a car maneuvering into a U-turn. It just happened that Sora and Niccolo were crossing the street before Falco could step on the break.

"I think that's what Jungkook did when he forced confessions from the brats. He wanted them to admit to murdering Sora and Niccolo so they could get the maximum penalty. However, I can tell it was an accident. We can only file for reckless imprudence resulting in multiple homicides." Captain Yoongi held his cup tightly, an indication that he was angry at what happened but couldn't do anything about it.

"That's my plan, but I think Annie Leonhart will reduce her clients' charges to manslaughter."

Manslaughter? Yoongi's brow creased. He wasn't a lawyer, so naturally, he couldn't immediately follow the logic behind the prosecutor's words.

You explained it to him, "It means Annie is a bitch, Captain. Based on my assumption, I bet she'll fake some medical records and say Falco took some kind of drug to help with his mental health issues." She would make it appear that Falco was unaware the drug given to him could cause hallucinations, confusion, and probably a loss of energy. "Or she'll have the clients' families pay a random person to confess tampering with Falco's car, hence the break not working. Either way, Attorney Leonhart will find a scapegoat and make it appear that what Gabi and Falco did was unintentional."

"You're so familiar with these tactics, aren't you?" Yoongi knitted his brow. In return, you tilted your head to the side as if to show a 'what can I say' attitude. The Captain was not wrong. You were also familiar with the techniques you mentioned because you were a defense lawyer.

Ji-eun wasn't bothered. She figured out the logic behind your tactics. She clasped her hands and said, "Captain Yoongi called me on the day of the incident. I've sent some people to subject Falco and Gabi to medical examinations. No need to fret. The results will show if they've taken any drugs. There were two more independent examiners, so they can't accuse us of faking the results." 

Good. Your shoulders relaxed upon hearing that. Ji-eun continued, "We must pay attention to the other excuse Annie might choose." Prosecutor Lee emphasized how affluent the Braun and Grice families were. It would be easy for them to fake 'dispute' with people, forcing them to tamper with the car Falco drove. "Captain, my cousin-in-law is good friends with this case's judge, correct? I need your help with evidence submitted before the trial. I need time to study the witnesses, too."

"Cousin-in-law?" Ji-eun said many things, but this was the only thing Yoongi grasped. The Captain was not married yet. Who could Ji-eun be referring to as her cousin-in-law?

"Chief Police Namjoon Kim." Prosecutor Lee said with a face vacant of any emotions that even the hard-to-faze Yoongi almost spit his tea. You laughed heartily. Oh, men and their poor attempt to conceal their feelings. It was hilarious when boys fell in love. They looked like idiots who seemed to forget how to navigate life.

"Namjoon is not your cousin-in-law...yet," Yoongi cleared his throat. "But yes, he will be...helping you with anything you need with the case. Just send either one of us a text or go to our house. Make sure to bring Rin when you visit."

Rin was Ji-eun and Jongsuk's eldest son and Yoongi's favorite. He spoiled that kid rotten. You adored that kid, too. Admittedly, your topic switched to the Lee kids, and you also took this time to ask Ji-eun for tips on caring for a small child.

The sun had already set by the time your meeting ended. A fond smile was still plastered on your lips long after the Ji-eun and Yoongi left, but it didn't take long for your smile to disappear once you heard your phone buzz.

Someone had sent you a message. The number wasn't saved in your contacts, but the previous messages gave you a clue about who it was.

Unknown number:

Seoul is colder now that you're not here. I miss you.

You stared at the message for some time, then sighed as if accepting defeat. You scrolled through your contacts and called the one named 'Eunuch Jungkook.'

"What can I do for you, Empress?" Jungkook answered after two rings. His tone carried some teasing, which eased your heart a little.

"Something came up. I'm going back to Seoul tonight. My secretary said she needs help—"

"Alright," Jungkook responded softly before you could finish your excuse. You did not need to explain to him. Jungkook understood your line of work. He couldn't hold it against you. Besides, it's Monday. He could care for Hanni himself. "Just text me when you'll be back. And don't you dare forget to bring back some monjayaki for me and Hanni!"

"Fine, fine." You rolled your eyes, feigning irritation. "I'll see you soon."

"Good. Take care." Jungkook had you talk to Hanni for a few minutes before hanging up. After that, you booked a car to drive you back to Seoul. This was better than a subway. After all, you need to conserve energy to talk to that one person.

You sighed. This would definitely be a long night...

***

Mina bombarded you with workloads the second you stepped foot in your office in Seoul. 

"I'm sorry, Attorney." Mina was apologetic when she handed you the documents. "You need to attend to one more hearing tomorrow." 

"Another business dispute?" You looked at your secretary in disbelief. Seriously? All the cases you have been handling these past couple of days were related to businesses dealing with trademark infringement and violating the labor code. It was a surprise that these business owners still trusted you. Admittedly, you thought most of your clients would withdraw now that you didn't have the support of the Braun and Grice families.

"Yes, your client refused to settle as they did not want to pay the amount demanded by the other party."

You scoffed. Those greedy assholes. They had the nerve to ignore the labor law but couldn't face the consequences of their actions?

"Tell my client I'm meeting them in an hour. Either that or they can go find another lawyer." You would 'persuade' them to settle out of court today as you couldn't attend tomorrow's hearing. You were in a hurry to return to Busan since it was already Sunday. Jungkook had been caring for Hanni the whole week, which made you feel guilty. Jungkook had another role he needed to fulfill aside from being Hanni's guardian. What kind of person were you if you kept on holding him back?

Besides, there was still another person you must meet today. Thankfully, you were able to convince your client to settle, although you were not proud of the method you used to persuade them. Eh. You guessed it didn't matter because you finally told Jungkook you were heading back to Busan tonight.

"Who're you texting?" The last person you met tonight was him—him, as in the one who claimed to 'miss you' but whose number was still unregistered to your phone.

"Work," you replied indifferently before switching off your phone. You will read Jungkook's message later. For now, you had to deal with this annoying bastard.

"You'll go back to Busan tonight?" He sounded unhappy. Rico Braun had always been like this—too clingy—too whiny. You'd think he was obsessed with you if you didn't know any better. But that's the thing. You were aware of what kind of guy he was. He liked having a successful woman by his side, someone he could brag to his family and friends. You fit his criteria well—a beautiful woman who worked hard for a better life. It was a bonus that the Braun family liked you for Rico, too.

"I already told you," you pushed Rico's hand that was about to encircle your waist. "I'll be staying in Busan for a while. I only went back here to finish some work and to say some things to you."

Rico's eyes sparkled in anticipation. He claimed to be wise, but he couldn't even detect the coldness in your tone. You did not want him. "I've said this before, and I'm saying this again: whatever romantic idea you have about the two of us will never manifest. I can't be your girlfriend, okay?"

Rico wanted to argue, but you cut him off.

"It's not an invitation for you to ask me to be your wife. I don't like you anymore, Rico." Sometimes, being honest was the only way to save your future self from more trouble. Rico had been bugging you since your college days. There was one time you considered dating him—thinking it was for the better—that a ruthless lawyer like you was perfect for a narcissistic boy like him.

"This is also the last time I'm meeting with you. From now on, do not bother me. Your family is not connected with me anymore, either. They probably hate me." Rico was Gabi's older brother. How this person still had the audacity to meet you after what his sibling did to your best friend was beyond you. "Are we clear on this matter?"

Rico's face was impassive, acting as if the news you dropped did not concern him. He crinkled his eyes, "Well, then. It's getting late. I can't have you take the train at this hour, right? Come. I'll drive you to Busan."

"No need." You were about to walk away, but Rico seized your wrist.

His lips twitched. "I insist. Please? For old time's sake."

There was no winning when it came to this blockhead. You relented when he promised this would be the last time he'd ask to drive you. He said he was going back to the U.S. next week, anyway.

The drive back to Busan was fortunately short. Rico drove safely and did not insist on talking while on the road. You imagined being friends with him after what happened with Sora, but you just couldn't do it.

You and Rico had a fair share of understanding each other before, though all those memories were now buried deep in your heart. You did not want anything to do with them anymore.

"Thanks for the ride." You hopped off Rico's car the second it stopped in front of the Kang' residence. You felt nauseated and couldn't help but feel guilty that someone related to Sora's murderer was here. You used to think guilt by association was nonsensical, but now you understand it was a way to ease an angry person's pain.

"You're welcome." Rico rolled down the window and smiled at you. "Have a good night."

You immediately went inside the house after that short exchange. You and Jungkook both had duplicates of the key's door, so you got inside without calling Jungkook.

It was already late, so Hanni was most likely asleep. Maybe Jungkook retired for the night, too. Thinking about this, you tiptoed inside and made sure not to make any loud noises.

However, you were shocked when you saw Jungkook standing by the floor-length window and looking outside it like some predatory bird.

"Did you promote yourself from being a lowly eunuch to an empress' royal guard?" It was meant to be a sneer, but your tone made it seem like gentle teasing.

Jungkook whipped his head and met your eyes. He was shocked to see you, too. "I'm not waiting for you." He denied vehemently. He even crossed his arms. "I just thought it was Hanni who arrived."

"Oh?" You checked your wristwatch. "It's past nine. Hanni's still not home?"

Jungkook shook his head, "Not yet. Captain Yoongi called. He said Hanni's enjoying herself too much in their home. Apparently, Chief Namjoon built a playground for her." Ji-eun and Jongsuk's children were there too. "Who drove you here? Your secretary? A friend? Your colleague?"

Jungkook saw the flashy car outside and how fast you hopped out of that vehicle. He wondered why. Was it because the driver did something to get you all flustered?

Jungkook found himself clenching his fist. It did not help that you were avoiding his question. Admittedly, you did not want Jungkook to know that Rico drove you here. Luckily, you found a way to divert the topic when you looked at him directly.

"Huh?" You squinted your eyes. You didn't catch it earlier since you were meters away from him, but now you could clearly see the bruise on his face. "Is that a black eye?"

It was Jungkook's turn to avoid your question. He looked away and kept his mouth sealed. What the hell?

"What? Are you playing deaf now? I'm asking you, asshole. Is that a black eye?" You trudged toward him and grabbed his jaw so you could examine his face. You were right. Jungkook had a black eye and a cut in his lips.

Looking at him made your temple hurt. You gritted your teeth in anger.

"What are you up to these days, huh? Did you go around fighting civilians? Aren't you in public service? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"It's not a big deal." Jungkook shook his head to wriggle out of your grasp. "There's a guy at the station who pissed me off."

"That's it?" Wow. He was really an idiot. "Do you go around punching people who pissed you off? What about me, then? Since you piss me off so much, should I just punch you to death?"

You pulled Jungkook to sit on the couch and grabbed the first aid kit to clean his wounds. Jungkook was not even bothered with his cuts. He just displayed them as if they were some kind of Christmas decorations.

Jungkook endured how hard you pressed the cotton swab in his face. He was like a docile kid listening to an adult talk. His posture was relaxed, though. Jungkook had his arms spread on the armrest while his legs were wide apart.

"When did this happen, anyway? Did Hanni see you like this? How did she react?" You couldn't bear seeing Hanni cry and questioning why her precious Jungkook-boy was hurt. Hanni was softhearted. How could anyone talk to her about stinky men fighting? It was disgusting.

Jungkook sighed when he realized you would not let it go. "It happened earlier, alright? Captain Yoongi and I met at the police station to discuss something before he went home with Hanni. It's his and the Chief's day off today. Ji-eun dropped by at the station, too. She came bearing bad news..."

Apparently, the one who impounded Falco's car was negligent. He let some people check the vehicle without proper documents. Now, these people were claiming to be car mechanics and that they found Falco's car to have a faulty break.

Damn it. Your premonition had come true. Jungkook was so mad he punched the negligent asshole until he was crying and shaking on the ground. Captain Yoongi saw what happened, so he stopped Jungkook by punching him in the face. He didn't want to, but he had to act 'fair' in front of other police officers. Besides, if he didn't stop Jungkook, there was a big probability that Jungkook would end up killing that negligent officer.

"Why didn't you call me?" You whispered. You couldn't bear to press the cotton swab harder on Jungkook's face after finding out what happened.

"Why?" Jungkook hmphed. " So you can stop me?"

"No." You met his eyes. "So I can punch that asshole too."

Jungkook clearly did not expect that response from you, yet he couldn't help his lips from curling up. Right. You told him before not to worry—you loved Sora so much that you wouldn't let go of those who hurt her.

"Nah," Jungkook shook his head and grabbed your hand. It was close to his lips. You could feel his hot breath on your hand. "You're just gonna hurt your hands. Empresses shouldn't fight lowly people."

Jungkook managed to make you laugh before dropping the bad news to you, "The guy is sent to the hospital and broke a few bones. Serves him right, although..." He smiled in embarrassment, "Captain Yoongi suspended me. I am jobless for a month."

What?

Before you could react, Jungkook stood up to defend himself in case you punched him, "Isn't it great? Now, you have more time to work! I can take care of Hanni the whole day. Yay?"

"Jungkook, you idiot!" You took off your shoe to throw it at him. Unfortunately, the doorbell rang.

Jungkook rushed to the door, "Hanni's here! Don't hurt me, Terni. You can't teach a three-year-old violence!"

The door opened while your shoe was flying in the air. Captain Yoongi was the first to enter the house, causing the shoe to hit his chest.

"Captain!" You and Jungkook snickered. Namjoon was behind him, carrying a sleeping Hanni in his arms. He saw what had happened to Yoongi. The Chief didn't react, though. In fact, he seemed to be holding back a chuckle.

Yoongi glared at Namjoon before throwing a daggered look at you and Jungkook. He loosened his tie and said, "Come here while I'm still asking nicely."

You seemed to teleport back to when Yoongi was training you and the other kids in martial arts. The traumatic memories prompted you to back away and wave your hand in a hurry, "Well, then. It's getting late. Jungkook, you should put Hanni to bed. Captain, Chief, it's nice to see you. Good night!"

You ran to your bedroom after that, ignoring Jungkook's incessant call to you. Captain Yoongi pulled the collar of Jungkook's shirt. He was about to teach him a lesson but backed off when he saw the bruise on his face.

"You're lucky I don't want to touch your face anymore." Yoongi pushed Jungkook and gestured for Namjoon to hand Hanni back to Jungkook. "Take back your kid. She ate all the candies at home. I'll buy more tomorrow and feed them to her next week. Good night."

Jungkook was dumbfounded as he carried Hanni into his arms. He smiled awkwardly at his bosses. "Good night, Captain. Good night, Chief."

Namjoon patted Jungkook's back before following Yoongi outside. "Good night, Jungkook."

Jungkook stood there for a few minutes before blinking back to reality. His bosses were long gone, but he still felt he was in a fever dream. 

"Huh," Jungkook muttered to himself as he made a beeline to Hanni's bedroom. "What a strange night."

Indeed, it was a strange night.

***

The strangeness of that same night didn't end instantly. At 11pm, you and Jungkook jolted awake and rushed to Hanni's room when you heard her loud wail from each of your baby monitors.

"Hey, sweetheart. It's okay." You took Hanni's small frame and rubbed the back of her head. You were panting from being forcefully woken up to attending to Hanni in a matter of seconds.

Jungkook was also worried about Hanni but wasn't as disoriented as you. You guessed it was because his work forced him to deal with much more dangerous things. He assessed the situation by languidly looking at you as you pacified the child.

"Bad dream?" Jungkook caressed Hanni's hot cheek. Tears were still falling down her face. The little kid nodded and nuzzled her cheek to Jungkook's finger as if finding comfort in his soft touch.

"Can you tell us what happened, Hanni?" You continued rubbing her back and called her by her given name. You just needed to make sure she was present and that she knew you would listen to what she had to say.

"Let's sit for a while, yeah?" Sleepiness could still be traced to Jungkook's eyes. He didn't seem to have fully woken up yet, but ironically, he was aware of his surroundings.

One look at you, and Jungkook's hand had already made its way to fix the strap of your lingerie that fell on your shoulder. 

Goosebumps pricked at your skin. Jungkook's palm was unbelievably warm—it calmed your shaking body as if telling you Hanni was safe. There was no need to worry if Jungkook's attention could stray to a petty matter like the strap of your dress.

But damn it. Was this really a small matter? Your face was flushed red, and your heart felt like it was about to explode because of embarrassment. You were wearing a sexy nightgown, after all. This was your secretary's fault! Why'd she pack these clothes for you?

'No. This isn't about me.' You scolded yourself as you gently helped Hanni sit on her crib bed. You sat on the floor, and Jungkook, the attentive man he was, retrieved a blanket you could use for cover. He sat on the floor, too, gently coaxing Hanni to talk about her nightmare.

The little girl said she saw her parents in her dream. She kept calling for them, but Sora and Niccolo never looked back. The couple just walked farther away from her.

"I miss mummy and daddy," Hanni said through whiny sobs. Your heart ached for her.

You knew you hadn't given your best for this godchild of yours. Your attention was mainly focused on work and Sora's case. Could you even call yourself a guardian at this point? Hanni was a small child who needed protection without asking. Why did it take you so long to comfort her? Why did you think skipping over an important topic was okay just because you were afraid to see how she would react?

Hanni was nothing like you. She was not an adult who could understand her emotions. She was a child. She needed to feel. She needed to understand what emotions were.

"Do you like rabbits, Hanni?" You spoke with bated breaths, but your smile was wide as ever. You couldn't break down this time. Hanni needed you. 

Jungkook didn't steal your spotlight, either. He sat quietly and listened to how you would explain things to Hanni.

The child looked confused and lost, yet she nodded her head at your question, "I like rabbits. Mummy and Daddy brought me to the zoo before. There are so many of them."

A small smile cracked Hanni's lips, but her heart felt heavy as she hugged the rabbit toy in her bed.

Admittedly, you didn't know where this topic would stray at first. The rabbit toy simply caught your attention, and before you knew it, you were already using it as a euphemism for Sora and Niccolo's passing.

"Yes, sweetheart. There are so many rabbits in this world! Your mummy and daddy didn't hear your call because they're busy looking after the rabbits."

"I-I don't understand," Hanni pouted her cherry lips.

You patted her head, "Well, do you remember what it's like to be at your mummy and daddy's restaurant?"

Hanni said yes and briefly described the place and experience to be lively. She really enjoyed watching everyone enjoy eating their food.

"Your mummy and daddy are currently on a mission, Hanni. They are in a faraway place trying to feed rabbits. Your daddy cooks delicious food, right? Mummy is with him to make sure every rabbit has a full belly and a cute smile."

"Really?" Hanni's eyes glistened with astonishment. "Mummy and daddy are making sure all rabbits are happy? They're superheroes!?"

"Yes!" You laughed merrily. "Aren't your mummy and daddy great? They know you love rabbits so much that they want them to live a long and happy life."

"That's good." Hanni seemed happy initially, but she knitted her brow in confusion afterward. "But when are they coming back?"

You looked at Jungkook and signaled him to help you. Regrettably, the dumbass appeared to be deeply engrossed by your story too. He shrugged and mouthed for you to continue.

You rolled your eyes at him before grinning at Hanni, "There are many, many, many, many rabbits in the world, so it's gonna take one hundred years before you can see your mummy and daddy again."

"Hundred years?" Hanni stared at her palm and attempted to count using her fingers. She had only counted one to three before completely giving up.

"I don't know how to count to a hundred, Terni." Hanni was frustrated. Thankfully, Jungkook finally interjected the conversation. 

"Don't worry, little one. Terni and I will help you count every day, okay? We'll take care of you for one hundred years until you're reunited with your mummy and daddy."

"Really?" Hanni's fear and sadness were not in sight anymore. She raised her tiny arms enthusiastically, "Hanni's very happy. I love Terni and Jungkook-boy so much!"

You and Jungkook both squeezed to fit Hanni's embrace. The little girl was excited about the possibility of spending time with her new guardians, so you let her talk until she fell asleep.

It didn't take long as Hanni was already exhausted from overplaying at Captain Yoongi's place. You guessed this was also the reason why she had a nightmare. Kids weren't supposed to overexert energy and sleep late, so you thought this was the right time for you and Jungkook to make a new schedule for Hanni's daily activities.

The next morning, you got up early to prepare breakfast. It wasn't only Hanni's schedule that you needed to fix. Her eating habits must be taken into consideration, too. Jungkook brought Hanni to her pediatrician last week and sent you the doctor's findings and suggestions.

Sora and Niccolo used to feed Hanni anything under the sun. It didn't help that your friends, especially Captain Yoongi, were a bunch of softhearted fools who always bought sweets for the little one.

You figured you'd cut Hanni's sugar intake and feed her a full meal twice and a bottle of formulated milk at night.

Today's breakfast was a simple avocado toast and random fruits you'd found in the kitchen and threw into the blender. You were not used to doing this as your secretary took care of all your meals. Fortunately, almost everything was searchable on the internet already.

It didn't take you long to follow the recipe you found online. In fact, you even had time to make Jungkook breakfast, too. It was sort of a 'thank you meal' for handling all matters related to Hanni last week.

You thought Jungkook wasn't so bad. After all, it was hard to hate someone who was soft to kids and respectful to women. Although you knew he was like this from the beginning, the younger version of you would not appreciate it because, hey! You were a regular teenager back then. You had a phase of liking walking red flags and had the "I can fix him" attitude.

You didn't want to indulge in the past anymore, though. You thought one of the few beauties of this world was a person's metamorphosis. You were far from perfect and still had many things to improve, but you were also far from the teenager willing to sacrifice herself for a fraction of someone's affection.

However, you were still a human and craved validation. You waited for Jungkook and Hanni to wake up so they could tell you what they thought about the food you made. Unfortunately, Jungkook seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

You didn't notice it at first as he was still all smiles when he greeted you good morning. He even happily played with Hanni before placing her in her high chair. Now that you thought about it, Jungkook's mood only soured when he was checking the mailbox.

"What's wrong with you?" You couldn't help but ask. You were about to eat breakfast. Hanni's starry eyes were excitedly looking at the food you made. You didn't want to start eating while Jungkook's mood was this sour.

Jungkook was surprised that you noticed his bitter expression. He attempted to smoothen his crumpled face and said casually to you, "Nothing's wrong with me. I just find these flowers ugly."

You were so focused on Jungkook's reaction that you didn't notice the bouquet of baby breath flowers he placed on the kitchen countertop.

You winced, "Where'd you get that?"

"Outside. Someone must have left them for you." There was a small card with your name on it. Seeing the handwriting, you instantly knew who it came from.

That damn Rico sure did not know how to give up.

"Serious question, are you dating somebody?" Jungkook asked out of the blue, watching as you picked up the white flowers.

You were still wincing, "Why are you asking me this question again?"

Jungkook shrugged his shoulders to appear nonchalant. Unfortunately, he looked more like he was sulking than uncaring. "I just think it's fair for me to know. I mean, we are co-parenting Hanni. What if other people misunderstand? What if they think we have a secret baby cause we fucked around years ago? I don't want some random dude or woman punching me in the fa—"

"Okay, first of all, shut up." You cut Jungkook off. "Secondly, what the hell? You're acting weird, asshole. I'm not dating anyone. And if I am, do you really think I'll start my relationship being all dishonest? If Hanni's my child, I'd tell my partner immediately. I can't date someone who can't love me and my child. Hello? Is the world turning backward?"

"So you're single?" Jungkook disregarded your speech and only focused on one aspect. Gosh. He still hadn't changed. Jungkook would always get on your nerves. He was an idiot. 

"No. I'll kill my boyfriend if he gives me baby breaths. Seriously?" You looked at the flowers in disgust. "This looks like popcorn."

"Exactly my thoughts! It's like an impostor. Why don't you throw it away?"

You glared at Jungkook and shielded the flowers, "No way. You can't throw away things just cause they're ugly. What are you? Four?"

"I'm three!" Hanni raised her right hand and giggled. She had been watching you and Jungkook converse. She found you two amusing and thought it would be cool to be a part of it.

"Yes, darling. You're three. Still a baby—our baby." You kissed Hanni's cheeks and said to Jungkook, "I'm displaying these flowers until they wither. Now sit your ass here and eat."

"Haha, Terni. Look at Jungkook-boy." Hanni chuckled and pointed at Jungkook, "He's pouting like a silly boy!"

"I'm not pouting!" Jungkook was defensive. He pursed his lips and forced himself to sit down. He harshly took bites of his avocado toast.

"Hey, you greedy fool. Is this Empress not feeding you enough? Slow down. Geez, there's more." You pushed another slice of avocado toast in his direction.

Jungkook drank his smoothie, "This is pretty decent. I didn't know you were good at this."

Well, you didn't know either. "I'll make our breakfast from now on. We can't keep feeding Hanni random foods. We should go grocery shopping, too."

"We should," Jungkook gently wiped Hanni's mouth. The kid was eating so well. "And oh, have I told you already? Kiyomi and Frieda called last night. They said they'd be visiting on Thursday. We need to prepare."

It was good that you brought up the topic of grocery shopping. Jungkook planned to buy some ingredients to cook a hearty meal for the social workers. His mind was simple: he wanted to thank Kiyomi and Frieda for attentively ensuring Hanni was in good hands.

However, you were different from Jungkook. You agreed about the meal preparation for those social workers, but not with the same logic as him. You only agreed because you wanted Kiyomi and Frieda to think you and Jungkook could handle the basic things parents must do: prepare food for their children despite being committed to work. This would allow you to appear as the perfect guardians.

"It's settled, then. I'm taking half a day off work. We can go shopping after breakfast." You worked your ass off last week, barely having the time to sleep. This week would be less hectic. Besides, this was akin to a transition period, as you wouldn't be accepting complex cases in the meantime. You would opt for clients willing to settle their matters out-of-court. As said, your top priority was Hanni and Sora's case. You trusted your team in Seoul, especially Mina. They had minds of their own. You also disliked micro-managing your subordinates. 

Everything was falling into its right place. Jungkook thought so, too. A huge grin decorated his lips as he thought of how he'd prepare for tomorrow's visit. The first on Jungkook's list? Make sure the Kang' residence was tidy and homey—and what made a house homey if not flowers?

Jungkook smirked. Yes, he'd buy flowers and get rid of those stupid popcorn pretending to be pretty flowers. Hah!

***

The day of the social workers' visit had finally arrived. You and Jungkook woke up early to prepare. Hanni still needed to go to the daycare, so you dressed her and sent her to school. Fortunately, her class was until 4pm today, giving you and Jungkook ample time without worrying about the little one.

Jungkook stayed behind as he was occupied with cooking and decorating the house. He might have gone overboard with the decorations, but it was worth it once everything fell into place.

You were bitchy about it, though. You teased Jungkook by playfully asking if his motif for today's lunch was a memorial place. The Kang' residence was spotless, though it had flowers almost at every corner of the house.

Jungkook didn't engage with your poor attempt to fight and just stuck his tongue out at you. You could say everything you wanted, but he knew deep down you liked what he had done to the house.

He was wrong, though. You didn't just like it. You loved it. The flowers Jungkook bought were different colors of daisies—which, coincidentally, was your favorite type of flora. But you'd be damned before you admitted it. You knew how smug Jungkook could be when praised—just like now.

"I can't believe you've cooked this, Mr. Jeon. It's very delicious." Kiyomi was enjoying some nikujaga. You were the one who suggested that Jungkook cook this. The soy sauce had a slightly sweet taste, which was good to dip in the vegetables. Kids like Hanni would surely enjoy this meal.

"It's rare to see a man, more so a Police Lieutenant, cook," Kiyomi added. Jungkook blushed, relishing the compliment. Truthfully, he did not cook often since he still lived with his parents. Jungkook never really grew up in his "mama's boy" phase and still enjoyed the meals she cooked for him. In fact, the nikujaga recipe came from his mother. Jungkook informed the social workers about it and said, "Besides, I don't cook often. My fiancée does."

The social workers' attention switched to you upon hearing Jungkook. You cracked a smile and rubbed the back of Jungkook's hand.

Jungkook's fingers were long and bony, making anyone think that Jungkook could break one's neck in just a snap of his finger. It was probably true, especially with how arduous his training was at the police academy. Jungkook had wielded heavy weapons and smashed bottles on criminals' heads more than one could count.

However, looking and feeling were two different things. Surprisingly, Jungkook's hand felt soft under your touch. The protruding veins in the back of his hands pulsated a little, their light green color perfectly contrasting with his silver Versace wristwatch. 

"Cooking is the least I can do for this family, really." You spoke, watching as Jungkook's eyes drooped when he felt your fingers languidly drawing circles on the back of his palm. 

You had been cooking their meals these past few days, but that was only because Jungkook had a soft spot for Hanni. He'd indulge her sweet tooth, relenting every time Hanni requested overly sweet pancakes and candies. That wouldn't work for you. Your priority was Hanni's health. 

"I work a lot, so Jungkook mainly takes care of Hanni. I just support the two of them."

"Oh? Aren't you busy with work, too, Lieutenant?" Frieda enquired. Jungkook's lips quivered, and for a second, he looked as if he wanted to divulge why he wasn't working. You saved him from his idiocy at the last minute:

"He's currently on a one-month leave." You continued tracing circles on Jungkook's hand until your action forced the social workers to look at Jungkook's hand. They spotted a fake engagement ring. You and Jungkook bought it to make your acting more convincing. "Jungkook's initially saving his leave credits for our honeymoon, but Captain Min forced him to get some time off work. This fiancé of mine is so hardworking. Can you believe it? He hasn't filed for a leave in years!"

The key to a good lie was mixing it with the truth. Admittedly, Jungkook hadn't filed for a leave for many years now. His coworkers often teased him, saying he wouldn't find a wife to marry if he focused his time working. However, Jungkook wasn't bothered anymore. He grew tired of spending his weekends going on blind dates. The girls were all pretty and nice, but he didn't feel more for them. He was stuck in the attraction phase. It was as if something was missing. Jungkook wasn't an asshole, so he cut connections with those girls so as to not give them false hope.

There was this one girl who was head over heels for him, though. The woman even brought her parents to the station to cajole Jungkook into marrying their daughter, but the parents gave up halfway because Jungkook seemed oblivious to what they wanted. It was Jimin who told Jungkook about the parents' plan, but Jungkook doubted it. He thought the girl's parents were just being nice.

"Has he not?" Frieda wondered how often you and Jungkook see each other every week if you're both busy with work. She also started asking about your first meeting with Jungkook.

"We've known each other from a very young age. We lived in the same neighborhood and studied in the same school. Though, we only started dating after college." Jungkook lied.

You and Jungkook faked this story together. You two had to make a believable scenario to avoid suspicion. You told more lies, "Yes, as you can see, we started as rivals. Cute, isn't it? Our romantic story is similar to what you see in books."

You brought out your phone and clicked an album in your photo gallery to prove your point. There were a bunch of pictures of you and Jungkook taken in the past. You showed them to the social workers.

"Wow, you've really known each other for so long!" Kiyomi was impressed. There was a photo of a drawing competition during your elementary days. It was captured by your father using an old model camera.

It was one of the worst days of your life. Jungkook was good at drawing, so he was expected to win. He got first place while you were the second placer. Naturally, you could not accept it—especially not after Jungkook mocked you by drawing himself wearing a golden medal. On his feet was a drawing of you kowtowing at him. In a fit of rage, you kicked his shin, causing him to stumble on the ground. Jungkook did not hit you back but told the teachers and your parents about it.

Your mother held a high position in school, so it was embarrassing for her to see her daughter bully kids. She scolded you and forced you to apologize to Jungkook. You did not want to do it, so you cried and kicked your feet.

Jungkook's parents were understanding. They did not get mad at you and instead told Jungkook to apologize first. It was his fault, anyway. You would not kick him if he did not make fun of you.

Since Jungkook feared his parents, especially his mother, he was left with no choice but to mumble a reluctant sorry. His apology only became sincere when he saw your red eyes. For some reason, Jungkook hated seeing you cry, and so he took off his golden medal and let you wear it.

That was the moment your father captured through a photo: Jungkook was giving you his medal while you looked expectantly at him.

Seeing this, Frieda and Kiyomi couldn't help but feel their hearts softening. They scrolled through your phone and found more pictures of you and Jungkook. All of them were taken mainly by Sora since she used to like photography.

"I now understand why you called yourselves rivals," Frieda crinkled her eyes. She found it endearing rather than annoying, "You compete about almost everything, but I gotta say this one's the most interesting."

Frieda showed a picture of you and Jungkook outside your university. You two were wearing formal clothing while protesting. You were holding a "Be fair to all your students" placard written in red bold letters. Meanwhile, Jungkook had a placard that said, "Kim Mingyu is innocent."

"We didn't know you two were activists. I know who Kim Mingyu is. He's classmates with my younger sister Historia before. Mingyu's case was pretty controversial, wasn't it?"

Kim Mingyu was one of Jungkook's best friends, so it was natural for you to be acquainted with him as well. There were many moments when the Idiot Quartet shared meals with Mingyu. In fact, Mingyu once helped you with an academic project during your freshman year.

Everything was going well until your last semester in college. Someone tipped the school officers that a student from Room 509 was possessing illegal drugs. All students present that day were brought in for investigation. Their things were confiscated, and unfortunately, the only student who had unlawful drugs inside his bag was Mingyu.

But that's the thing. Mingyu might have been possessing the drugs, but his medical records showed no signs of being under the influence of any drugs. There was one student who tested positive in the drug test, though.

It was Mingyu's seatmate. Regrettably, this person was from an affluent family in Seoul whose connection extended to Busan. It was obvious that he planted the drugs inside Mingyu's bag so Mingyu could take the fall.

Mingyu initially tried to appeal, asking his friends and classmates for support. However, no one dared help him. The real culprit was powerful, after all. They did not want to get themselves involved in stuff like this.

It was only you and Jungkook who had the courage to protest. Even Sora and the others were hesitant. They told you not to be reckless and to find another way to help Mingyu without revealing your identity.

Looking back, you realized you didn't have any right to mock Jungkook and Jongsuk for being a so-called suicidal maniac because you were just like them. You were very passionate about upholding justice until one day:

A man in a black suit visited you. You just got home after another unfruitful day of protesting in school on behalf of Mingyu. You didn't really feel like talking to anyone that day, but the man made a promising proposal:

He told you he saw your potential and was willing to fund your law school education until you graduate. Everything would be provided by this man. Starting from your tuition fee up to your personal allowance. All he asked was that you move to Seoul as soon as possible, and...

"So that's it?" Jungkook's spiteful face was clear in your head as if the memory had happened recently—except it wasn't. This was after your conversation with that man in a suit. Heck. It didn't even take you an hour to decide.

You have already made a decision.

"I'm going to Seoul next week. I don't have time to protest anymore." You said simply. Your voice carried no hint of regret or sadness.

You were just indifferent.

Jungkook scoffed at your reaction—or the lack thereof. His heart had gone cold, and there was no trace of affection left on his soul after your temporary truce for Mingyu's sake.

"Yeah, as if I'm going to believe that. You're saying it's a coincidence that the Braun clan is sponsoring your studies, right? Hah. Sorry, but I call that bullshit." For a moment, Jungkook looked like he would spit on your face, but he didn't. He just balled his hands into fists and looked at you in contempt.

"You made a deal with that family, didn't you? You'll stop protesting in exchange for a straight path they'd dig up for you and your greediness."

Jungkook usually said the most idiotic things, but you couldn't accuse him now—not when he got everything right.

In exchange for a sure success in life, you betrayed Mingyu and Jungkook.

"I've made up my mind." You said with finality. The situation had already come to this. There was no point in sugarcoating things.

Jungkook didn't say anything, the silence burrowing into your heart and growing into two different emotions:

Yours was grief, and all Jungkook felt was bitterness. That day, you parted ways and never spoke to each other again. Sure, there were times you two were forced to be in the same room—like the day of Sora's wedding and when she gave birth to Hanni.

But even then, you barely looked at each other's directions. Somehow, you always felt like Jungkook was lying when he told you recently that he never hated you—that all there was to feel was annoyance at your devilish face.

It was untrue. After all, not even yourself was on your side. Jungkook might say he didn't hate you, but you sure did.

Wasn't it funny? You had achieved your dreams, but there were still some nights you thought you could go back in time. Maybe then, Mingyu and his family wouldn't have to be sent to the most rural part of Japan.

Mingyu wasn't sent to prison, but his life had been caged while his wings were cut off. Meanwhile, Mingyu's seatmate, who had ruined his life, was free—he went by the name Rico Braun.

***

The lunch with the social workers went well. You didn't want to be complacent, but you saw Frieda encircling  5 on her rating sheet. This number represented the highest point to rate you and Jungkook.

"Shall we open a bottle of wine for this success? It's still early to pick up Hanni. What do you think?" You asked Jungkook as you picked up the dirty plates and brought them to the sink.

Cleaning up after playing host was one of the things you hated doing. It didn't help that Jungkook was giving you the cold shoulder—or at least this was what you thought.

Jungkook hadn't spoken to you since Frieda and Kiyomi left half an hour ago. Jungkook had his lips puckered, and his brows creased together. You were familiar with this reaction well.

Either he was pensive or pissed. Knowing him, it was most likely the latter. After all, you could only take a few days of not fighting. Anything more than a week would be a goddamn miracle.

"Or we can just finish our chores in silence." You raised your shoulders slightly, taking a peek at Jungkook, who was still eerily quiet.

You heaved a sigh. Fine. You wouldn't push it.

'Or maybe you should.' The little voice inside your head made a comeback, so it was only natural to listen to the voice.

You didn't attack Jungkook at once, though. Firstly, you stood beside him and 'helped' him wash the dishes. You were the one lathering soap on the plates while he washed them with clean water.

It started subtly—you whisked soap suds in his direction until they hit his forearms.

Jungkook did not mind it and just continued washing the dishes.

You rolled your eyes before doing it again. This time, you whisked soap suds into his forearm with more force.

Jungkook did not react, prompting you to whisk more until his arm was covered with soap suds.

You were about to do it again, but Jungkook had seized your treacherous wrist.

"What?" You titled your head up and stared at him innocently.  Jungkook peered down at you and opened his mouth. For a moment, he seemed like he was going to berate you, but he stopped when he saw your lips curving into a teasing smile.

Jungkook felt like he lost his mind a little whenever he looked at your annoying face. How could this be? How could he be stressing over something related to you while you looked like you had no clue you were fucking him up?

It was not fair.

Jungkook pulled you closer to him, letting you have a whiff of his expensive cologne: sandalwood. Jungkook did not know it, but you were not doing better than him. Your weakness was men who smelled good, alright? You were just a girl, after all. You were attracted to things that screamed masculinity, and sandalwood was one of them. The musky and earthy aroma made you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

As if that wasn't enough, your heart also skipped a beat when he licked his lips and pushed you slightly on the kitchen countertop, effectively caging you in his arms. 

Jungkook suddenly leaned closer and whispered to your ears.

"Why'd you keep them?" His voice dropped an octave.

"Keep what?"

It was a miracle that you could still look at him in the eyes and act all oblivious. It made Jungkook want to pull his hair out.

"You know what I'm talking about." He insisted. However, you were more stubborn than he was.

"I don't. Last time I checked, I'm a defense lawyer, not a mind reader."

No one said Jungkook had a good temper. He closed his eyes tightly, seemingly fighting the urge to snap at you—he did not. He just breathed out slowly and asked you the question as patiently as he could.

"Fine. Play dumb, but I won't accept a half-ass answer." He narrowed his eyes at you, "Why did you keep all our photos together?"

The photos were at least twenty years' worth of your life together. You were thirty-two now. Sometimes, it still fascinated you to remember that you had known Jungkook all your life.

"Don't speak nonsense about you being sentimental. We both know that's not the case because you can let go of everyone without thinking too much about it."

You scoffed at that. Hah. You knew it. Jungkook did hate you for leaving—he hated how you could throw away your bond with the people here in Busan just to make a name for yourself. Until now, Jungkook had some reservations about you. He racked his brain of why you would be keeping those photos.

It might mean nothing to you—that this was just one of your schemes to trick those social workers. But could you have found all those pictures in a few days? Not to mention that some were really old.

So why? Why did you keep them—even the ugly and blurred ones.

Jungkook was desperate for an answer, and he didn't know why. Sadly, you did not relent and even went as far as throwing back a question at him.

"What about you? Why did you fill this place with flowers? Daisies, on top of that."

It shouldn't mean anything. Heck. The question you asked was a shot in the dark. The better part of you knew it was simply a coincidence, but sometimes, your self-preservation didn't seem to work. You put meanings to things that didn't hold value for others.

"I asked you a question first." Jungkook dodged the bullet. He could be stubborn, too.

"Well, I'm not answering your question until you answer me."

"Ditto."

You glared at each other. Silence permeated the room. A few seconds later, you and Jungkook both turned away from each other as if accepting defeat without bruising your egos.

'Fine. I won't say anything.' He muttered to himself.

'Over my dead body.' You thought silently.

And with that, no questions were answered, but fear and hope entangled your and Jungkook's hearts.

***

Sora and Niccolo's case finally progressed to the highest court a month later. Justice could be achieved promptly when you know prominent people in the field.

Captain Yoongi and Chief Kim did everything they could to help you and Ji-eun win the case. Thanks to the prosecutor's ability, the jury's hearts were won.

Ji-eun managed to rebuke the faulty break allegations, arguing that even though the break was tampered with, the defendants were still guilty of negligence. Ji-eun's exact words before the judge went like this:

"Defendant Falco Grice, do you know how many seconds there are in a minute?"

"Yes. There are sixty seconds." Falco supplied.

"Then, how many hours do you spend studying every day?"

The question made Falco's eyes light up. Right! He liked answering questions regarding his studies because, according to Attorney Leonhart, his dedication to academic activities would prove how stressed he was in school, which resulted in him and Gabi trying throttle therapy.

The defendants couldn't retract their statements anymore as they had already been recorded by the traffic police and Captain Yoongi. Annie had no choice but to just turn things around.

If she couldn't minimize her clients' charges, she'd just shift the attention to hating the school and making them liable for giving unrealistic workloads to their students. This would surely earn the sympathy of students and parents.

Unfortunately, you and Ji-eun had read through this tactic, so you readied yourselves for a comeback.

"I studied a maximum of 18 hours a day, Mam Prosecutor, including eight schooling hours."

"So that means you spend 10 hours studying alone and taking special classes?"

"Yes, Mam." Falco did not know where Ji-eun was going with her questions, yet he answered them as truthfully as possible. He thought being sincere could help him win the people's hearts in court.

"You know what I find ironic?" Ji-eun quirked her brow. Disbelief was written all over her face as if this ordeal was absurd. "You study 18 hours a day because you are afraid to fail your classes, but are you telling me you can't spend a minute or two checking the condition of your car? If you're so scared of hJiming someone, then why did you use your car without checking it first? You claim to love studying, but how about studying your lessons during your driving schooling days? Did you forget everything just because you have your license now?"

"T-That's not it..." Falco trembled. Tears immediately welled up in his eyes. He looked at Annie, so the lawyer tried to object to Ji-eun's statement.

"Objection, Your Honor! Argumentative." Annie gritted her teeth. "Why are you badgering my client, Prosecutor Lee? Are you telling everyone in this honorable court that studying is not important? Why are you shaming my client for studying hard? Students are the future of our country! If there's something rotten here, isn't it the education system that gives unrealistic syllabus to students?"

"Objection, Your Honor!" Ji-eun fought back. The judge gave her the signal to speak. "Why are you holding other people accountable for your client's negligence? Shouldn't we also blame those driving schools if we follow your logic? The police officers? The honorable court and judges? This is not the first time someone has been charged with negligence. It happened before and is happening now. Are you telling me we should hold the people in public service accountable since the cycle keeps repeating?"

The people inside the court were scandalized by what Ji-eun said. You smirked as you watched things unfold. Things were going according to how you and Ji-eun pictured it.

The judge overruled Annie's objection. Attorney Leonhart couldn't lower the charges to manslaughter either. The court hearing was coming to an end, but before the closing remarks of both lawyers, the judge first allowed some people to take the stand.

You were one of those people with the privilege to say a few things, mainly addressed to the judge and the jury. You and Ji-eun talked about this. At first, it was to gain more sympathy, but as you take the stand, with Hanni sleeping soundly in your arms, you suddenly become vulnerable. You felt like you were back to being your teenage self—no sense of accomplishment and powerless to defend your loved ones.

You could only offer your heart.

"I stand here today not as a lawyer nor someone who will put justice in her own hands. Rather, I stand here as a friend and as a-a..." You trailed off when you heard your voice cracking.

Perhaps Ji-eun was right. You should have prepared a written speech for this moment. However, scheming was already part of your soul. You feared you'd end up writing a speech with malicious intent. You did not want that—not for Sora. Everything you would say today would come from the bottom of your heart.

"A guardian of a three-year-old child." You swallowed the lump in your throat while looking at Hanni with gentle eyes. You focused on the baby and nuzzled her nose with your pointer finger. Hanni cooed and smiled in her sleep. The jury watched silently, feeling their heartstrings being pulled.

"An average person in Japan lives until the ripe age of eighty, but my best friend Sora Kang and her husband were unfortunately robbed forty-eight years of their lives." Your lungs hurt. They felt like they were burning. You hated this. "Defendant Falco Grice and Gabi Braun stole those forty-eight years where Sora and Niccolo could have spent caring for their daughter—the same girl I have in my arms right now."

Hanni looked more obedient when asleep. No one could resist purring seeing her chubby cheeks and pouty lips. What more if they saw her ocean-blue eyes? You told Ji-eun you would not bring Hanni to the stand while awake. You refused to let her hear about the unfortunate things her parents went through.

"Sora and Niccolo won't see their daughter attend her first prom. They won't see her grow into a loving woman who's so innocent that she wants to save all the rabbits in this world." You looked at Gabi and Falco. "And why is that? The answer is in front of you. Falco Grice and Gabi Braun, claiming to be stressed because of school, aimed to relax through that thing they called throttle therapy, but because of that, two lives were lost. Their throttle therapy made them feel the cool air hit their faces, but what about Sora and Niccolo? Air was robbed of their lungs!" Your anger was palpable. 

The jury's heart throbbed in pain.

"Falco and Gabi felt their hearts beat fast because of the excitement and adrenaline of overspeeding their car, but what about Sora and Niccolo? Their hearts were not beating fast—it's not beating at all." 

Sometimes, you lay in tears in bed at night, wondering if your best friend and her husband died immediately—at least then, they wouldn't feel the agonizing thought of leaving their small child while feeling every bone in their body ache.

Your speech continued for a few more minutes before you ended with, "Attorney Leonhart said it herself: the youth is the hope of this country, so honorable jury, and judge, I implore you to think about your decisions carefully. A three-year-old in my arms could grow up with hope or a bad image of the world where injustice is fostered. In the end, the choice is yours."

Silence enveloped the courtroom. You went back beside Jungkook, who wrapped his arms around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him. Hanni was passed to Taehyung for a while. The poor boy needed someone to hold, too.

A while later, the decision was made. You, Jungkook, and the others listened in anticipation as the jury's foreperson announced the verdict.

Both Falco and Gabbi were found guilty of reckless imprudence, resulting in multiple homicides. As the driver, Falco got seven years in prison and was ordered to pay ten million won. Meanwhile, Gabi needed to serve two years in prison for influencing Falco and was ordered to pay five million won. Both their cases were nonbailable.

"So ordered!" Your squared shoulders slumped when you heard this, followed by the absolute sound of the gavel. Jungkook visibly relaxed beside you, too. He squeezed your shoulder once before rubbing it and kissing your temple.

It was a surreal moment. The warmth of his lips made your body soft. You leaned to him and buried your face to his chest. Jungkook caressed your hair, not minding at all that his suit was stained by your tears.

They were happy tears. Finally, justice was served.

***

The end of the month not only concluded Sora's case but also marked the end of Jungkook's suspension at work.

It was a relief, really. Jungkook staying at home might be helpful since you didn't have to hire a babysitter anymore, but goddamn, did it not make your life easier. In fact, it made you feel like you were living in hell.

Hell was said to be hot, which you felt precisely every morning. One thing you learned about Jungkook was that he couldn't go on his day without working out. Jungkook recently found the convenience of exercising at home, which turned out to be the start of your life in hell.

Every morning, he'd go to the house's garden to do some pull-ups, planks, squats, and other workout moves. There didn't seem to be any problem with this, right?

Wrong.

Jungkook's workout routine distracted you from working. Unfortunately, your temporary office was at the Kang' residence, too. You made the mistake of putting your table near the floor-length window where you'd have a clear view of the garden. Your intention in doing so was to calm your tense mind by looking at the greeneries. But instead, what you saw was Jungkook grunting; his lips puckered as sweat rolled down his body.

You willed yourself to ignore him, but your clients did not make doing so easy. Admittedly, most of your clients would space out during the consultation as they were busy salivating over Jungkook working out. Sometimes, you'd be forced to draw on the curtains, but this was proven inefficient since your office would be so dark that you couldn't read the files on your table.

Thankfully, the worst had come to an end. Jungkook's going back to work. Conversely, you did not open your office today, saving you the mouth-drying experience of seeing Jungkook exercise.

However, fate refused to be on your side while the heavens liked seeing your knees turn into jellies. You didn't see Jungkook during his workout session, but you saw him post-workout.

You had just woken up and were feeling a bit thirsty, so you went to the kitchen without regard to your appearance. Your hair was a mess, and gunk stuck in your eyes, causing you to rub it off.

You yawned while waiting for your water to boil. Unexpectedly, Jungkook emerged in front of you.

"Mornin." He flashed a lazy smile at you. His slightly out-of-breath tone from working out all morning snapped you out of your sleep-like trance.

"Damn it." You were almost burnt by the water. Jungkook's eyes widened, immediately pulling your hand away from the kettle.

"What's up, sleepyhead?" Jungkook teased before blowing hot air on your slightly red hands. "Water's overflowing. Did you forget how to use a kettle, hm?"

You had filled the kettle with water beyond the maximum point. Not to mention that you had also switched on the fire to the highest temperature.

You couldn't argue with Jungkook. This was indeed your fault. You were careless.

"Sorry," you tried to make your voice as flat as possible while subtly wriggling out of his grasp. Jungkook noticed your avoidance, so he let you go at once.

Right. He was all sweaty. Of course, you'd be disgusted by his touch. However, this was far from the truth. You were simply caught off guard by his presence and how he looked.

Jungkook was wearing a black compression shirt and baggy grey training pants. His usual silver wristwatch was replaced by a smartwatch.

He looked...hot. You couldn't deny this, and for some reason, your temples throbbed, giving you an illusion that someone's soft lips were caressing it.

Fuck.

You should definitely check your period tracker. You were probably ovulating a little earlier this month.

You weren't the only one having dilemmas with your body. Jungkook watched as you clumsily poured yourself water and drank it. You looked disoriented, and that shouldn't be a good sign. But oddly enough, Jungkook liked seeing you like this—your guard was not up, and you were uncaring about how you looked.

You're just being you.

Jungkook was unaware that his smartwatch had detected his heartbeat. It flashed red warning lights, indicating that his heartbeat was abnormally fast.

Jungkook cleared his throat. You looked at him.

"I'm going back to work today. Thanks for making breakfast for me these few weeks, but you don't have to anymore. Captain Yoongi always brings us food."

Jungkook was seriously grateful for your efforts. Besides, your food was very savory. Jungkook just didn't want to burden you further. You barely had time for yourself since you were busy attending to Hanni and your work.

Frankly, Jungkook did not expect you to be this caring. He guessed he had this notion of you pouring your efforts just for money and power. He was not proud of this, alright?

"Oh," you blinked, "But I've already prepared your breakfast last night." You made some veggie-packed breakfast sandwiches and overnight oats. Actually, you asked Jungkook's mother for some breakfast recipes. She gladly talked to you over the phone but said she'd love to see you in person, too. The Jeon residence had a huge garden where you could pick up fruits and vegetables. That would be fun.

"I'm not going to cook tonight, though. Taehyung invited us to dinner." Your friend made a reservation in a fancy restaurant to mark the win of Sora and Niccolo's case. Taehyung wanted to thank everyone, especially you and Ji-eun, for pushing through.

"Oh, right. It's tonight." Jungkook asked how the three of you would go to the restaurant. You told him you had business near the police station later, so you could drop by there. Afterward, you and Jungkook could pick up Hanni from the daycare before driving to the restaurant.

Jungkook agreed with your plan. After that, your day had been pretty much the same. Thankfully, your client for today was easy to talk to and just agreed to whatever you suggested. He said you were the expert, not him. As a result, your meeting with the client ended thirty minutes earlier. You thought it was a waste to drive back home, so you just went to the police station to hang out.

Everyone was having a feast. Apparently, a good citizen brought food for the police officers as a 'thank you' for saving her life. It was a woman in her early thirties. You heard people calling her Pieck. She had a soft smile on her lips as she urged the officers to eat.

Jungkook saw you the moment you stepped foot inside the station. Unfortunately, he couldn't attend to you as he was the star of this joyous event. You simply waved at him and mouthed, "I can wait."

Jungkook smiled and nodded before turning his attention to Pieck and his comrades.

You watched them for a while, feeling your chest wJiming at the thought of people praising Jungkook. He deserved it. You hadn't met anyone aside from Jongsuk Lee, who was as passionate about freeing people from the hands of criminals.

Your soft heart even turned softer when an older woman stood beside you and told you to eat some food. She introduced herself as the mother of Pieck Finger. 

"Lieutenant Jeon is indeed a hero," You couldn't say no when Mrs. Finger shoved desserts in your hands. You ate them. "You know him, don't you? He saved my Pieck from a group of drunkards trying to assault her."

The incident happened just a few days before Sora's accident. Pieck didn't have the opportunity to express her gratitude to Jungkook because the first time they went to visit the police station, Pieck's parents overwhelmed Jungkook with the intention of marrying off their daughter to him.

Pieck's parents wanted Jungkook to be their son-in-law, someone who wasn't armed but wouldn't hesitate to fight a group of evil men. Mrs. Finger told you that Jungkook was in a bar that night. He was off-duty, so he didn't bother bringing his gun. Jungkook just used beer bottles to smash the heads of the pricks who dared lay a hand on Pieck.

Sadly, Pieck didn't get away unscathed. The men had broken her leg even before Jungkook came to save her. Actually, Pieck was wearing a leg cast until now. She still had a week to go before completely removing it.

Pieck had a hard time standing and walking. Jungkook wasn't heartless to watch her struggle, so he held her shoulders and guided her while handing food to the officers.

You and Mrs. Finger watched them. The latter snuck a glance at you, her lips curving into a smirk.

"Don't you think Lieutenant Jeon and my daughter look good together?"

Oh? 

You didn't switch your gaze at the old woman and instead remained watching Jungkook and Pieck. You tried to picture them together, but you just couldn't do so.

"I don't think so," you replied to Mrs. Finger truthfully. She scoffed and furrowed her brows. She looked like she aged 10 more years after hearing your blatant disrespect.

You shrugged off your shoulders and casually showed her your right hand adorned with an engagement ring. "I think Lieutenant Jeon and I look better together."

If you thought Mrs. Finger would backtrack her statement just because you and Jungkook were 'engaged,' then you were wrong.

She eyed you from head to toe before looking at her precious daughter. You were nothingcompared to Pieck.

"My daughter is a teacher." Mrs. Finger crossed her arms, "She knows how to take care of a small child, so it won't be hard for her to be the perfect wife for Lieutenant Jeon. Unlike you..." She looked at the way you dressed. Too classy. You seemed high-maintenance. It would be a waste if Jungkook used his salary coming from the people's taxes to support you.

"You're still a woman, so I think you won't have a hard time looking for a husband, but you and Lieutenant Jeon don't match. Just Look at him..." Mrs. Finger urged you to look at Jungkook and Pieck. "Look at the way he treats my daughter. He thinks she's a delicate flower."

Her description made you cackle. You couldn't help it. This old woman was both funny and pathetic.

"Genuine question: do you think Jungkook 'perfectly' matches your daughter just because he treats her like a human being?"

Your concerned face didn't look fake. But instead of finding it endearing, Mrs. Finger thought you were mocking her.

"And what do you mean by that?" Mrs. Finger got all defensive.

You heaved a sigh, "I just think it's sad that you are forcing an already committed man to your gorgeous daughter." You were telling the truth. Pieck was a catch. "And you're doing all this just because he treats her kindly. It makes me wonder what kind of men you and your daughter surround yourselves with—seeing that you become all desperate for the bare minimum."

"You—!!" Mrs. Finger was speechless. Her face was red because of humiliation.

You were not trying to embarrass her, though. You pitied her. Admittedly, if what you and Jungkook had was real, you didn't think you'd be jealous of how he treated Pieck. You were actually going to question his behavior if he wasn't treating her like this.

You didn't want to date a man who was only good to you.

"You said your daughter is a teacher, right? I hope she doesn't teach kids that something normal must be rewarded with God-like treatment. Because if that's the case, your standards in people, especially men, are on the floor."

Mrs. Finger was about to say something, but she saw Jungkook jogging in your direction.

"Hey," Jungkook greeted you, a sweet smile was plastered on his lips. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Are you ready to go?"

"Mn. Mrs. Finger and I were just idly chatting," 

Jungkook was so focused on you that he didn't notice the old woman beside you. He bowed at her, thanking her for helping Pieck cook the food for today.

"But you barely ate, Lieutenant." Mrs. Finger subtly complained. Her brows were knitted together. She hadn't calmed down from her rage yet. She wished she could pull your hair for being too arrogant.

"Ah, sorry," Jungkook smiled sheepishly. "I've eaten a lot earlier at lunch. My fiancée packed me a bento box. You've met her, right?"

Jungkook introduced you and Mrs. Finger more formally this time. The old man was forced to shake your hands before bidding you goodbye.

"We have to go. We'll see you later, Mrs. Finger." Jungkook's hand snaked above your waist but below your breast. This hold was way more intimate than handholding or grabbing someone's shoulder to help them walk.

Mrs. Finger gritted her teeth and glared, resenting you for naturally getting this treatment from Jungkook.

You just smirked at her and walked away.

"By the way, shithead," you called Jungkook when you two were out of the station.

"What?" Jungkook was carried away from pretending. He'd been bragging about you to his comrades and Pieck all afternoon.

"I didn't make your bento for lunch. I just bought it." You did not have time to cook it yourself.

Jungkook stopped walking. You thought he'd mock you, but he shrugged nonchalantly and said, "Doesn't matter. You still thought of me when you bought it."

Now, it was your turn to be stunned. You furrowed your brow at Jungkook, wanting to ask what he meant, but were afraid of hearing the answer.

Like usual, you let it go, refusing to hear it from him.

There was another chance for the truth—just not today.

***

Dinner with Taehyung and the others went well. You continued pretending to have a romantic relationship with Jungkook in front of them. Admittedly, telling them and acting weren't that difficult. You still remember how they reacted when you told them about you and Jungkook a month ago.

The conversation with Yoongi and Namjoon went like this:

"Chief, Captain, I am getting married with her." Jungkook intertwined your fingers together. You'd like to think you were a good actress, so you did not understand why the news did not shock the two men. 

Namjoon merely raised his brow and said, "Is this your way of asking us to sponsor your wedding?" The chief thought it would be possible. Jungkook was one of his own. He and Yoongi started saving money for their boys when Jongsuk got married.

"No, no. I mean..." Jungkook scratched the back of his head. His plan didn't go as far as asking his bosses to sponsor his fake wedding. "I just wanna tell you that I'm engaged. You know, just in case someone asks you. We've been together for a while now."

"We know." Namjoon was confused. He looked at Yoongi, who was busy drinking tea. The captain didn't look bothered. "Yoongi, didn’t you tell me before that these two are dating?"

"Huh?" You and Jungkook were perplexed. Did Yoongi come from an alternate universe? Or did he hit his head? Because there was no way either you or Jungkook told Yoongi you were dating.

"Aren't you brats dating since you were 10 years old? The other kids complained about you two flirting during missions." Yoongi said in a flat tone.

You and Jungkook looked at each other. With tacit understanding, you decided not to refute the captain's belief. After all, the sole purpose of this conversation was to make them believe you and Jungkook had a thing. Oh well.

The second person you and Jungkook talked to was Ji-eun. Unlike Yoongi and Namjoon, prosecutor Lee was not easy to fool.

"You're pretending to be dating to get Hanni under your custody, right?" Not just that. She even exposed your lies. As expected of a great lawyer.

You looked at Ji-eun proudly, "So...? Can we trust you to keep this to yourself?"

"Of course." Ji-eun did not hesitate. "You have the attorney-client privilege."

With that, your conversation with Ji-eun ended. You also asked her to relay the news to Jongsuk and Jimin to save time. You and Jungkook were conserving your energy because you thought explaining your situation to Taehyung would be difficult.

Taehyung, your dumbass of a friend.

To your surprise, you didn't have to waste your brain cells trying to make sense of the setup you had with Jungkook. All Taehyung needed to hear was the word marry and he was already pulling you and Jungkook to Sora's grave.

You asked Taehyung why.

"Are you kidding? I owe Sora 3,000 won now. We've made a bet before. She told me you and Jungkook would be engaged in your early thirties. I guess it's my fault for thinking you're gonna drag it until you're in your forties. But you can't blame a guy, can you? You're both stubborn."

With the lies perfectly set, pretending came easy. No one batted an eye with how 'lovey-dovey' you and Jungkook were. The dinner was fun, though the children made it a little chaotic. You did not mind since you were learning to live in the presence of screaming children. Honestly, you admired Ji-eun for keeping a straight face while her kids go crazy. She was pretty chill. Jongsuk was the one tasked to calm the kids.

Speaking of kids, you were worried after talking to Hanni's teacher. She said the daycare had arranged a family trip for their students. You and Jungkook had to accompany Hanni to this event. From what you heard, the parents and their kids needed matching costumes. There would be games that would teach the little ones the importance of family values.

Fortunately, the event fell on the weekend, so you and Jungkook did not have to worry about work. These past weeks, you were learning to take things slow and enjoy life's little moments. You had to remind yourself that you were not running out of time. You did not have to constantly take on many cases to prove to everyone that you were a good lawyer.

"Don't stress yourself too much with our costume, okay? I already have it figured out." Jungkook assured you one evening. The trip was tomorrow. How could you not overthink? You still hadn't seen the costume in person.

"Would you just tell me what you bought for us? I don't trust you."

"Why not?" Jungkook was sulking. "I've thought about it carefully."

"You don't know my size, dumbass." You were going to kill him if he bought something inappropriate or too small for you.

Jungkook's lips curved up. He looked at you from head to toe and said, "Nah. I got it right."

Your knee-jerk reaction was to cover your chest. Jungkook scoffed and told you he was not a pervert.

You didn't care about what he said, especially when the day of the trip finally came. Hanni's teacher came bearing bad news. You thought you had lost your mind when she told you that you, Jungkook, and Hanni were staying in the same room and bed.

This setup was supposed to make the children feel closer to their parents. After all, not everyone had the luxury of spending time with their kids—daycare was even established because the parents were too busy to look after their children.

Hanni was delighted to be spending the night with you and Jungkook. Unfortunately, she recognized the deep frown on your face. She knew you were not happy about this.

"Terni, don't you want to sleep with me and Jungkook-boy?" Hanni's mood plummeted, making your heart drop. You didn't want to hurt her feelings.

"Of course not, sweetheart. It’s just that..." You tongued the inside of your cheek, not knowing what to say. "Jungkook-boy and I can't sleep in the same bed."

"Why not?" Hanni folded her little arms across her chest. You did not speak, so she turned to Jungkook. Sadly, Jungkook wasn't sure what to say either. He was as surprised as you were. He just scratched the back of his neck—this was one of his bad habits every time he was lost.

You sighed, knowing you had to explain things yourself.

"Because Jungkook-boy and I aren't like your mummy and daddy."

"You're not!?" Hanni was shocked. She wrinkled her forehead. "But you said you'll take care of me for a hundred years! Isn't that the job of a mummy and daddy?"

You were running out of excuses. Besides, you couldn't tell Hanni the whole thing. Frieda and Kiyomi were not yet done with their deliberations. You couldn't expose yourselves early on.

"I'll just sleep on the floor," Jungkook said sheepishly. Frankly speaking, he was embarrassed. He was the one who attended the meeting regarding this trip. Jungkook knew you two would stay in the same room, but in his defense, he thought there were two separate beds. Jungkook would disagree if he had known there was only one bed. He would not take advantage of you like that. He wouldn't do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable, either.

"Or I'll just book another room. Don't worry about it." Jungkook stood up and gathered his things. He was halfway through the door when you stopped him.

"You can stay," you swallowed thickly. Jungkook's eyes lit up, but he still did not know what to say. "No need to book another room. The teacher and the other parents might get the wrong idea. We can't show them we're not happy we're staying together."

"Then I'll just sleep on the floor." Jungkook offered genuinely. He wasn't trying to sound like a sad boy, yet that was the vibe Hanni got from him.

Hanni's little shoulders sagged, "But Jungkook-boy, the floor will hurt your back!" For a three-year-old, Hanni sure knew a lot. You guessed this happened when your mom was Sora Kang—the girl who loved potatoes so much but was willing to break them in half and give them to a random stranger with a growling stomach.

"We can sleep in the same bed, alright?" You rolled your eyes to hide your nervousness, "This sounds awful, but Hanni will 'sort of' be our divider. She sleeps in the middle. I will kick your ass if you snore."

Jungkook nodded his head obediently. He was happy he wouldn't have to deal with a stiff neck and a sore back.

"And shower first! I don't like stinky men in my bed!"

Jungkook and Hanni followed your instructions before getting into bed. Both of them realized how much of a clean freak you were. However, you still find sleeping hard despite adhering to all pre-sleeping routines.

You glanced at the wall clock. It was past one in the morning already. Jungkook and Hanni were sound asleep beside you.

You don't usually find it difficult to sleep in a new place. In fact, you were used to it since your job required you to meet your clients all over Japan. The hotel room the daycare had booked for tonight was pretty decent, too.

The air conditioner worked well, and the duvet was clean and soft.

Damn it. You slightly tossed and turned, desperately looking for the perfect sleeping position. In the end, nothing worked.

It was quarter to three in the morning. You released a defeated sigh, resigning to insomnia, and were just about to play with your phone when Jungkook suddenly spoke.

"Can't sleep?"

Goosebumps pricked at your skin because of how raspy his voice was. You turned to face him, about to apologize because you thought you'd accidentally woken him up by tossing and turning. However, you were shocked when he handed you the only pillow he was using.

"What's this?" You asked dumbly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes lazily. "Oh, come on. You know it's a pillow. Just accept it, alright? We both know you can't fall asleep with just one pillow."

Oh.

He remembered that?

Jungkook seemed to have read your mind. He breathed out and pillowed his arm. His gaze was on the white ceiling as if reminiscing.

"I can't forget even if I want to. All my memories of our camping days with Captain Yoongi are just  you complaining that you can't sleep."

So that was it. Captain Yoongi used to arrange many camping trips before. He did not separate the sleeping quarters of girls and boys. He always said, "Accidents and disasters can happen anytime. You can't choose who you're with when that happens, so learn to suck it up and deal with the situation with both your friends and enemies."

What Captain Yoongi said made sense. Jungkook learned how to be more patient as he spent the camping days calming himself despite your whiny ass.

"Hey, he made us sleep with a single pillow, okay? My neck hurts." You accepted Jungkook's pillow and tried to lower your voice so as not to wake Hanni. The kid knew how to throw a fit when disturbed. "Thanks."

Jungkook hummed and closed his eyes. You looked at his sleeping figure, feeling your heart flutter. Jungkook had long lashes. From your angle, you could also see his Adam's apple bobbing and his broad chest heaving. You suddenly wondered what laying your head against his chest would be like. Was it warm? Did his heart beat slowly? Or fast? Would it calm you down? Would its sound finally make you doze off?

There were so many questions swimming in your head. Unfortunately, you still couldn't sleep despite exhausting your mind. You tried clamping your eyes tighter, but it was useless.

You didn't remember drinking coffee earlier. What about milk? Should you try downing a glass of milk to help you sleep? Perhaps counting sheep would help. Or maybe you were just craving physical touch.

Right.

Your eyelashes fluttered when you suddenly felt Jungkook wrapping his hand around your thumb. He started stroking your fingers.

Your breath caught in your throat—

"Sleep." He whispered gently, "You are safe here."

—And then your breathing evened as he continued caressing your finger. His actions and words seemed to be the potion your mind was looking for because you really did fall asleep a few minutes later.

The following day, you were awakened by the alarm and a little monkey climbing your leg.

"Terni, wake up!" The monkey was shaking your leg and hips. "Please! Please wake up! It's family day today!"

"No. I wanna sleep!" You cried begrudgingly. Why must a little monkey and an annoying alarm disturb your sleep?

Have they no conscience? This was your first time sleeping peacefully, so you tried kicking the monkey at your feet and hugged your pillow tighter.

This pillow was pretty good. It was warm and sturdy. It even smelled like fresh air and a bit loamy.

Good. You thought you could stay in this position forever as you rubbed your cheek in the pillow.

"I'm starting to think you're not actually sleeping and are just taking advantage of me." The pillow talked, forcing you to stop pinching the pillow and open your eyes.

The world seemed to stop when you were met with Jungkook's lukewarm gaze.

"Is your pillow soft and warm, Empress?" Jungkook quirked a brow, his lips curving into a teasing smile.

You gasped. All this time, you were pinching and caressing Jungkook's biceps, not a pillow! Your head was comfortably leaning on his chest, too.

Scandalous! This was all too scandalous! How dare you wrap your legs around his hipbone. And Hanni! Hanni was still latching on your leg while playing with the hem of your nightdress. 

To make things worse, Jungkook chuckled lowly in your red ear and said, "Who's the pervert now?"

No!!!!!! This was your last straw. You pulled Hanni away from your leg and immediately got up from the bed to sprint and lock yourself in the bathroom.

Damn it. This day was not how your morning should've started!

***

You did not have a crush on Jungkook— this was what you kept telling yourself while stuck in the bathroom. 

It did not matter that all you could think about was him as you bathed. Or how you couldn't stop seeing the image of him standing behind you to gather your hair in one place so you could brush your teeth better.

You ignored the fluttering of your heart as you thought about how good he had been to you the past weeks, of how attentive he was to your needs. You thought it wasn't a big deal how he gave you the only pillow he had for the night, or how he held you in the police station, or how he decorated the house with daisies every day—yes. Jungkook's madness with flowers never stopped ever since Kiyomi and Frieda's visit. He also habitually checked the mailbox first thing in the morning. You pretended not to understand why, but you knew he was checking if baby breaths were on the doorstep.

There were also times when you went home late because of work. Jungkook would then stand outside the Kang' residence, pretending to enjoy the night stars, but he was just waiting for you to come home.

You brushed off how much you appreciated his jokes, how he distracted you from the pain of losing your best friend, and how he took care of Hanni when he saw you were overwhelmed with everything. Nothing mattered to you because you were not in love—you didn't have a crush on Jungkook.

'Keep telling yourself that,' The voice inside your head betrayed you, yet you stood your ground and ignored the seed of feelings that had long since bloomed into colorful flora.

You were annoyed during the family trip. Not only were you being pestered by your damn feelings, but you were also tormented by how ridiculous you looked.

"Terni, come on. We're late!" Hanni banged her little fists on the hotel room's door. She and Jungkook had been waiting for you to come out for quite some time now.

"Go on without me! I'm not going out there!" You hissed, itching to remove your pink gloves.

"Oh, come on." You heard Jungkook's voice. He also banged the door. "The ceremony is about to start. Let's just go, please?"

You did not open the door as an acquiesce to Jungkook's soft plea. You only showed yourself to them so you could hit Jungkook in the face.

"This is your fault!"

Jungkook let you hit him. He simply chuckled at how cute you looked.

"What are you sulking for? It's not so bad!" Jungkook playfully pulled at your fake whiskers.

You hit him again. "What do you mean it's not so bad! I look stupid!"

Jungkook really exceeded your worst expectations. Who would have thought he'd buy matching rabbit costumes for the three of you? You swore to kill him if he bought something inappropriate, but honestly, you felt a slutty rabbit costume would be better than the rabbit onesie he chose. To make it worse, Jungkook purchased the pink one for you. He had the blue one, while Hanni wore a pastel purple—it was obviously the result of combining the colors pink and blue.

Now, the three of you looked like a happy family. It would have been fine if Jungkook chose a royal or superhero costume. But a rabbit? Seriously?

“Those are overrated,” Jungkook told you this when you complained about not having a Wonder Woman costume. Truthfully, you had seen two families near your hotel room wearing DC superhero costumes.

“Let’s take a picture together. I’ll send it to Kiyomi and Frieda.” Jungkook carried Hanni into his arms and pulled you closer to him. He brought out a camera and took a photo of the three of you.

You couldn’t complain after that since the two dragged you out to participate in today’s activities. Soon enough, your embarrassment did not matter as your competitive side resurfaced to shit on everyone.

It started off fun. Some parents and kids praised you and Jungkook for taking the games seriously. But things started going downhill during the segment called Family Trivia. Your family was leading by ten points, which didn’t hinder you from scoring more.

Old habits indeed died hard. You felt like you were in school again, feeling the thrill of answering rounds of questions. You lost your mind whenever another team answered the question first.

“The word family is derived from the word famulus!”

Hanni’s teacher was about to give the other family a point for scoring, but you pressed the buzzer to complain. The teacher looked at you in defeat, wanting to ignore you but couldn’t.

“Her answer is incomplete!” You argued. You were quite embarrassing, really. You reviewed the questions and games the teacher gave each family more than thrice. This was where you focused your energy; that was why you couldn’t check the trip itinerary and didn’t see you and Jungkook were sharing one bed.

“The word famulus is Latin. It means servant. Say, teacher, give us the point, not to them!”

The teacher looked apologetically at the family that was robbed of point. She couldn’t argue with you since the rules said the answers must be complete.

The other families stared at you contemptuously, but you didn’t mind since Hanni and Jungkook were cheering you on. Jungkook had also never grown out of his competitive phase. His heart swelled with pride as he raised his hand to give you a high-five.

The participants for the next game were the father and his child. Hanni would help Jungkook build a tent. It took the other families twenty minutes to set up their tents, but Jungkook and Hanni did it in less than 10 minutes—this was kudos to Jungkook’s training at the police academy and years of practice doing it during your camping days with Captain Yoongi.

None of the families wanted to talk to you by the end of the games. They thought you ruined the fun for their children. Some kids even scoffed at Hanni, leaving your poor goddaughter crying.

Your heart ached to see Hanni sad. You couldn’t help but blame yourself for taking things this far. It was your competitiveness that ruined Hanni’s reputation at the daycare. Needless to say, Jungkook rubbed yours and Hanni’s back, telling the two of you that you’d win back their hearts before the night's end.

However, you didn’t seem to have a chance to do that when rain suddenly started pouring. You were currently at the top of the mountain. The hike down wasn’t too far, but the ground would be slippery. It was already getting dark. The plan was to sleep in the tent the fathers and children set up earlier, but that didn’t seem viable now.

“We’d like to apologize for this unforeseen event.” Hanni’s teacher was apologetic. It was their mistake for not checking the weather forecast more clearly. “Let’s just wait for the rain to stop; then, we can all hike and sleep in the hotel instead. Don’t worry. The daycare will shoulder all expenses.”

The teacher’s statement did not pacify the parents, as their children started whining and throwing a fit because of the lightning and thunder. Hanni was the only well-behaved child—kudos to Jungkook for sitting with Hanni back at home and educating her about navigating rainy days.

“It’s okay, Jungkook-boy. I’m not scared.” Hanni assured Jungkook. Your heart recoiled with joy seeing them like this. The feelings you had been hiding since morning threatened to resurface again. This time, you were utterly defenseless and were left with no choice but to step back and let the arrow pierce your delicate heart.

 Jungkook was a good guardian—a better father than most men you knew. Any woman would be lucky to have him father her children.

You looked around. Most fathers did not know what to do when faced with their crying child. Some tried to subtly scold the little kids for acting up. The others did not bother to hide that they were pinching the kid’s arms to get them to calm down. The mothers were feeling distressed, too.

You abruptly stood up. Hanni was sitting on Jungkook’s lap. Both of them met your gaze and asked where you were going.

“I’ll talk to the teacher. Just give me a minute.” You did not wait for their response and just headed in front. The teacher was having a hard time calming down the kids. You signaled that you wanted to talk, so she nodded and found a quiet place for you to converse.

Several seconds later, you stood before the parents and the students while holding a guitar. Hanni’s teacher borrowed this instrument from one of the families cosplaying as a family of performers.

“Hello, everyone ~” you greeted them. Only a few spared you a glance as they were still busy pacifying their crying kids. You proceeded with your mini-speech and told them you’d be singing a song.

“Kids, you need to listen to the song, alright? Don’t think about the thunder. Just focus on the melody." Then you strummed the guitar strings. Along with it was the light tugging of your heartstrings. Music, particularly singing, was your passion. It was your escape whenever things started getting overwhelming.

Soon enough, the thunder was overpowered by your singing voice. Call it a miracle or just pure talent, but your melodious voice caused peace to seep through everyone’s heart.

You were singing You’ll Be In My Heart by Phil Collins. You were both excellent singers, but something in your voice made you stand out more. Perhaps it was because of how painfully raw your voice was—when you sang, you didn’t just sing with your mouth. You sang with your heart. 

You created your own version of the original song that no one could recreate, not even the most prominent voice impersonator. Your voice was like kisses and candles and warm hugs. You were like the last bit of sunlight before the raging storm. And when the storm was over, you were the rainbow—the colorful hues that told people there was hope. 

The children stopped crying. Jungkook was the first to stand up and clap his hands like his life depended on it. The other followed suit; whistles and laughter echoed the place.

A little while later, the rain finally stopped, and Jungkook’s claim turned out to be correct:

You’d won the people’s hearts before the night ended.

***

The path going down the mountain would take ten minutes or so. It was also a straight and smooth trail, so the kids wouldn't find walking difficult. However, the adults didn't have the heart to let these three-year-old children walk. Luckily, there were mountain wagons they could ride.

Hanni was hanging out with her friends again. Your singing voice really warmed them up. They thought Hanni was pretty cool for having a guardian whose voice was as good as Elsa from Frozen and other Disney princesses.

"Does this mean you're demoted to being just a princess, Empress?" Jungkook teased you on the way back to the hotel. You two were walking beside each other.

The teacher, parents, and other officials guided all the kids in the wagon. Jungkook decided to walk at the back of the group, his police lieutenant personality kicking in. He wanted to make sure no one was left behind.

You figured you'd just accompany him as you didn't want to converse with other parents. Besides, they were busy looking after the wagons.

"Shut up, you lowly subject. This empress felt happy, so I thought, why not appease my people?" You shot back at Jungkook. He laughed at your poor attempt to talk like a royalty. It was funny, considering you were still in your rabbit costume.

Jungkook encircled his hands on your waist and pulled you near him, ensuring you didn't hit any trees. He hummed, "I haven't heard you sing in years."

Of course, he had not. Law school and your life in general fucked you up so badly. You had experienced failure after failure to the point that you questioned yourself—starting from the things that defined you to the things you loved and hated.

You wondered if you would ever amount to more. Failures took such a great toll on you that even the thing you loved the most didn't feel fulfilling anymore. There was a point in your life where you thought you didn't have the right to make music—that it should be reserved for people who were good at it and not someone like you who just loved it.

"That's cause I haven't sung in years." You admitted.

Jungkook cast his gaze on the ground. His heart was uneasy, wanting to ask you a question, but he wasn't sure if he had the right to.

"Last time I sang was when I was with you."

Your voice was barely above a whisper, yet Jungkook still heard it. He paused. Then he looked at you intently.

You weren't lying. Years ago, you were passionate about music. You even composed your own songs. Sora and Taehyung used to listen to your work all the time, but those two were easily distracted and would just tell you, "It's good." Of course, you still appreciated it.

However, you seemed to be looking for something more. You thought of Jungkook at that time. He was down and feeling edgy the past weeks. It was because his mother got into an accident and ended up needing leg surgery.

Jungkook barely ate, worrying about his mother to the point of insanity. You couldn't take it anymore, so you once went to him with a guitar.

"I'm not in the mood to fight with you," Jungkook warned. There were no biting remarks in his tone, just pure exhaustion. The fire in his eyes was extinguished, too.

You rolled your eyes and sighed.

"I'm not here to fight. I just need you to listen to me sing."

"Huh?" Jungkook flinched. He was clearly perplexed about what you said. Did you seriously want to sing in front of him? Were you sick? You never liked to sing whenever Jungkook was around. You said he ruined your mood, so what changed now?

"It's just that..." You trailed off and copied his habit of scratching the back of his neck. It was a good thing you could immediately think of an excuse, "You're my rival. Rivals talk shit a lot about each other, right? I'm joining a singing competition soon. I want you to hear it first, and then you can criticize me all you want. I need to hear them."

Jungkook was not convinced, but he let you be. After all, it was easier to listen to your angelic voice rather than fight you.

You sang your own composition. It was not a love or a heartbreak song. Jungkook sat there dazed, wondering why his heart unexpectedly felt light as you sang words of encouragement—it was as if you were telling him that the huge storm would pass, and all that would be left was a mother's loving embrace.

Jungkook felt tears filling his eyes. He blinked and wiped them before you could see.

"How was it?" You put down your guitar. A gracious smile was plastered on your lips.

It's stupid. I hate it. Don't sing again. These were the words Jungkook wanted to say because these were what you were expecting. But Jungkook was not a liar and was always vocal about his feelings. The first time he met Ji-eun, he did not hesitate to tell her she had pretty hair.

"Thank you," Jungkook ended up telling you. His voice was unbelievably soft that your heart couldn't help but melt. "It was beautiful." You were beautiful.

It sure was. Jungkook did not know what else to say, but it was okay. Later that day and the following days, Jungkook was back to his old self.

He could eat and smile again.

He then asked about the singing competition, but you shrugged and said, "Nah. I don't want to join anymore."

Only a few years later did Jungkook realize that there was no singing competition in the first place.

Jungkook's eyes drooped. You were already in Seoul when he found out about it. Sometimes, he entertained the idea of confronting you about it. Now seemed like the perfect opportunity to do it, but Jungkook just caught your wrist instead of asking you about it.

"Hm?" You stared at him innocently. He stopped walking, and so did you.

"Would you..." Jungkook swallowed hard and licked his lower lip. He felt his heart stuttering.

Your eyes were glistening despite the lack of a moon in the sky.

"Would you...sing a song for me again?"

There was a pregnant pause in the air. You blinked at Jungkook, and for a moment, Jungkook thought you would say no. But then you gently cleared your throat and nodded.

"Let's walk." You pulled him and started descending the mountain. You two were keeping a good distance from the group of people. From here, you could see Hanni laughing heartily with her classmates.

The wind blew, hugging you and Jungkook with its coldness.

"All I knew this morning when I woke, is I know something now, know something now I didn't before~"

When Jungkook asked you to sing, your mind instantly went into autopilot and sang whatever your heart told you.

Everything Has Changed—the song title was exactly what you felt for Jungkook. Wasn't it funny? You went to Busan for your dead best friend.

Sometimes, you felt guilty you were not mourning her enough—that Sora was dead, but your treacherous heart was beating like it never did before.

There was death, but there was also rebirth—the blooming of something you thought you buried for good and left with not even a trace of sunlight.

Daylight had come.

It went in the shade of all right and tall guy with gentle eyes.

Jungkook smiled softly at you. He did not react until you finished singing.

You were almost down the mountain. The kids and the others were already at the foot. It was just you and Jungkook here.

"How's my singing, Your Majesty the Emperor?" You intended to go for a light teasing, but something in Jungkook snapped when you called him emperor.

You were the empress, weren't you?

No words were exchanged. Jungkook put his hand on the small of your back, drawing you in.

Jungkook had kissed other people before. Whenever he did, he always held their cheeks before diving in. But with you, it was different.

He first stroked your head before his right hand gently held the back of your head; his other hand was still in the small of your back.

Jungkook stared deep into your eyes. It was as if he wanted to touch your soul with how intense yet languid he looked at you.

He seemed to want to memorize every part of your face—afraid you'd vanish if he so much as blinked.

But looking was not enough. He wanted a taste, too.

Jungkook wetted his lips, leaning in. Then, very slowly, he inched closer to you as if giving you time to push him away.

You did not.

But Jungkook was still so afraid. His eyelashes quivered before he dipped his head and gave you a soft peck on the lips.

There were no fireworks or grand and flowery words people read in novels.

The kiss was just it—a kiss.

There were no intense feelings, but there was Jungkook and his soft eyes and open heart.

There were no fireworks, but there was the sound of inserting the key in the door lock, then came the twisting of the knob before the door opened.

There was no rollercoaster kind of feeling in that one kiss. Because the only thing here was home.

Kissing Jungkook felt like coming home.

PART 2

likes and comments are highly appreciated 🙏 it motivates me to write more 😉💙

Y/N of this fic patterned to my IRL best friend. i love her so much pls listen to her cover of You'll Be in My Heart as this is how I imagined Y/N singing the song.

[eddiesghxst]

PRICE OF FAME (PART 9/12)

HIIII HERE SHE IS!! i hope u enjoyyyy <3

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: you have questions and eddie needs to get something off of his chest

contains: enemies to lovers trope, alcohol consumption, sexual themes, angst, feelings feelings feelings, and eddie going through a crisis <3

word count: 5.1k

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| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

Eddie’s gonna be sick.

There’s a sweet smell of pancakes and coffee wafting through the air and a dizzying chatter dancing amongst the table, and Eddie’s going to be sick.

He’s not sure why because all he’s had was a cup of throat coat, half a French toast, and a cigarette, but he has a feeling it has something to do with the empty chair across from him. Or maybe it’s the guilt that’s been churning in his gut since the moment he stepped out of your room last night. Or maybe it’s the realization of the truth that Eddie was forced to admit when Richie found him at the studio early this morning.

Eddie’s not sure who told Richie or how much of the story Richie knows, but Eddie hates feeling like this— feeling out of control. It’s a sick feeling Eddie had been used to when growing up, but now that he’s older and has his career and money, Eddie does everything in his power to never get into situations like this— and nine times out of ten, these situations only come with things like the press.

And it’s upsetting— the way this has spun out— because Eddie knew this would be the result, and he was so desperate to avoid it in the beginning, but he’s not sure when that persistence vanished. Somewhere along the line, you managed to find the split in Eddie. The part that needed fixing the most. Eddie’s not sure where that split is, but he feels it, and the change— you— has seeped too deep into his skin to dig out, and Eddie is panicking.

He’s been panicking since yesterday— since he fucking pulled out of you, and you looked at him like he was the only person you’ve ever really seen. Like you were seeing him in color for the first time.

He couldn’t think because all that tossed around in his mind was you.

He couldn’t speak because all that would form on his tongue was your name.

He couldn’t breathe because all he would inhale and exhale was your scent.

He was drowning in you yesterday. Sinking like a stone, quicker than he’d ever intended to— because, believe it or not, Eddie was ready to take the plunge. 

He was ready to try and figure out his path of redemption from being the asshole you (rightfully so) hate to someone you could maybe forgive and tolerate. The first step to that was supposed to be the song from the show, but fucking James ruined that. 

It was all fucked. Everything was fucked. The way Eddie was going to apologize was flipped upside down, and you both moved too quick, and now Eddie’s in way over his head— because jesus christ, Richie grilled the shit out of him this morning.

Eddie’s going to be sick.

“Anyone know what’s up with Rich this morning?” One of the crew members asks. Jeff shrugs, tossing a grape into his mouth, “Beats me. He’s always upset about something, though.”

Eddie tries to muster through the rest of breakfast, but when Richie comes back into the room without you in tow, Eddie decides he can’t sit here a moment longer with that empty chair staring at him.

Although Eddie practically begs Richie to let him skip out of the group interview, he still finds himself walking down the hall of the hotel. The interview is being held in Richie’s suite and was originally planned to be a few days after the residency was over, but a change of plans with photoshoots in LA caused some last-minute alterations to the planned schedule.

Eddie spent the day holed up in a friend's studio. He hasn’t seen you since breakfast, and the day is almost over now, so it’s safe to say the initial shell-shock feeling of the sticky situation he’s tossed you both into has somewhat dissolved. Eddie didn’t record anything at the studio; he only wrote, and the change of scenery, with the added peace away from his friends/bandmates, gave him a more open space to figure his thoughts out. 

So, when Eddie sees you walking out of your room, he immediately knows now is his chance to do what he’s been milling about in his head all day— because when Eddie said sorry and when he spent hours fucking you into your bed to show you just how sorry he was, he meant it— and he needs to tell you that before things get misconstrued as they always do.

You’re not paying attention, too focused on sorting through the questions you’ve prepared for the band, so you’re face is riddled with shock when Eddie places a hand on your shoulder.

“I think we should maybe talk…” 

Eddie’s not sure what he expected you to say, but he sure as hell didn’t expect you to turn to him and nod, “Yeah, I think we should.” Eddie nods as well, taking a breath and opening his mouth to speak, but you’re cutting him off before he can even fully form his thoughts, “Where the fuck have you been?”

And that’s not what Eddie thought you would start with, but it’s better than he expected. “Um—” 

“I’ve been signing papers all fucking day thanks to you,” You stress, “And the only person that has any answers to the millions of questions I have is you, but you’ve been missing in action all fucking day, so what the fuck?” You snap.

Eddie’s face pinches in confusion, “Signing papers? What papers?”

You scoff, sarcastically shrugging, “I don’t know, maybe the fucking NDAs Richie piled onto me, again, because of you,” You’re tone is dripping in irritation, and Eddie only finds your disgruntled look to be cute. “Thanks for that, by the way. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that I’m not here to ruin your life, but the last thing I want to do is tell the world all about how I was dumb enough to let you fuck me.”

You don’t exactly care that a cleaning maid is just a few doors down, but Eddie does because this is precisely how shit gets into the press. “Jesus Christ,” Eddie mutters, wrapping a hand around your arm and tugging you off into the small ice room off to the side. “Would you lower your fucking voice?” Eddie grumbles as he presses you into the open space beside the vending machine, creating some sense of secrecy from anyone passing by.

Your eyebrows furrow in annoyance as you glare at Eddie, “Why does it even matter when you’ve been practically screaming it from the rooftops?” You point out. Eddie waves a hand and squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head in dismissal, “I didn’t tell Richie shit.” He argues.

And it’s the truth. Eddie didn’t tell Richie anything— he hasn’t told anyone anything aside from what little to the story Jeff and Gareth know. But they would never say something to Richie about it, right?

You snap Eddie from his train of thought, “Then where did you go last night, Eddie?” You ask.

And well, Eddie doesn’t think he’s ready to confess that he practically had a panic attack when he realized he likes you— like, really, really likes you. He’s not ready to admit that he spent the night at the studio, scribbling down words and mixing sounds, cutting clips of his voice, and perfecting it until he passed out from exhaustion. He’s not ready to admit that.

Eddie goes silent, gaze dark and filled with hesitance. His jaw ticks, and he replies with a snap, “It doesn’t matter.” He shifts to turn around and leave— because that’s what he does best— but you reach out to wrap a warm hand around his wrist, and Eddie— god, Eddie’s heart skips a few beats.

“If I had to sign a goddamn NDA, the least you can do is tell me where you went.”

And you’re right. God, isn’t this precisely what Eddie was just writing about? 

It’s not difficult, Eddie says to himself. Just tell her you went to the studio— maybe even offer to show her what you were working on.

Eddie thinks he would rather chew bricks.

Before Eddie can fully prepare a response, Gareth pokes his head into the room, glancing between the two of you as you quickly drop Eddie’s hand. Gareth fails to hold back a grin at the scene before him, and Eddie’s shoulders stiffen from the tense situation between you that Gareth fails to catch onto. Gareth points over his shoulder, “Unless you want Richie to start flipping out from wasted time, I suggest you guys head back to the room so we can start.”

“It’s chaotic.”

“Your known sound or the new sound?”

“Both.”

You laugh, shifting in your seat as you twirl your pen between your fingers. Jeff expands on Gareth’s comment, “I would say our past music is chaotic in general, but the newer stuff we have coming is more of an… orchestrated chaos.”

Gareth snorts at Jeff’s answer and mumbles something along the lines of melodrama before Eddie pitches in, “There’s more of a structure to this record. Our past albums have been like… multiple stories in one, and it can be overwhelming, but it’s also exciting because you never know where you’re going next,” Eddie talks with his hands, jewelry clinking with each wave as he glances at you, “And I think this album still has that type of excitement, but it’s more… interconnected. Like there’s bits and pieces of every track within the next one, and it’s just… it’s a fuller experience.” 

It’s beautiful— how Eddie thinks and speaks and forms his thoughts about music. It’s so captivating that you could spend forever listening to him talk about music. Gareth is saying something, but you’re hardly listening because you can feel Eddie’s gaze on you, and it makes every hair on your body stand. 

When you finish writing a note, you clear your throat before glancing back up at the boys as if your heart isn’t beating out of your chest. “In relation to this topic, do any of you have a specific idea or sound you’d like to explore in the future, maybe?”

Jeff hums, “I grew up listening to a ton of Janis Joplin— and shit like Jimi Hendrix— so I've always had a love for that kind of clash between rock and blues. So, maybe something along those lines." It's utterly off-track from what Corroded Coffin sings, but Jeff, you've come to learn, is the most mellow of the group, so you're not as surprised as most would be.

The boys each answer the question, eventually blending into each other to create one extensive conversation. You ask them what they plan to do when they’re old enough to retire. Gareth wants to venture into the art world; unbeknownst to you, he’s had a knack for art since middle school. Jeff wants to do something with producing, and right before Eddie gets the chance to answer, Richie steps in, clearing his throat and reminding you of the time. 

You seem to have lost track of time in your conversation. The boys have a line of press interviews today, but you have more than enough content to complete the article. You thank the boys for giving their time and being compliant, and as you file out of the room, Gareth turns to you, “Are you coming to the dinner tonight?” He asks. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “Dinner?”

Jeff steps up beside you, slinging an arm over your shoulder as you all step into the hallway, “Of course, she’s coming to the dinner, dumbass; it’s for the entire crew.” He flicks at Gareth’s shoulder. Gareth bats at Jeff’s hand, “Sorry, I didn’t know if that included journalists.” He bites back with a light shove to Jeff’s shoulder. 

“I’m afraid I don’t know this dinner you’re talking about.” You chip in. Gareth and Jeff glance at each other before Jeff clears his throat, “Uh— Eddie didn’t tell you?”

Of fucking course, it reflects to Eddie. You shake your head, glancing around the hall, only to see that Eddie is nowhere to be seen. Jeff nods, removing his arm from your shoulder and shrugging, “Well, there’s a dinner tonight, and we have some family and friends coming in from Hawkins, so you’re obviously invited regardless of Eddie’s lack of communication skills.” Jeff jokingly concludes. You nod with a small smile, “I’ll most likely be working through this,” You raise your journal, “But I hope all goes well.”

You don’t stick around to see the looks Gareth and Jeff exchange because you’re too busy trying not to be bothered by the fact that Eddie purposely didn’t tell you about the dinner. But then again, can you blame Eddie? You’ve only known each other for a month, and that entire month has been full of mixed feelings, arguments, and selfish kisses. 

Still, you find yourself feeling estranged and saddened— because, despite your complicated relationship, if the roles were reversed, you know you would’ve extended the invitation.

Eddie glances over himself in the mirror for what seems like the millionth time.

It’s stupid, the nerves coursing through his veins, but then again, what Eddie’s about to do could potentially put him on his ass if it goes wrong. Wrong, meaning you say no, curse him out, and tell him to fuck off for the rest of his life. He’d deserve it, sure, but that doesn’t mean it would lessen the sting either way.

There’s a cassette tape in his hand as he walks up to your room, 403, the numbers that seem to be engraved in his mind at this point. He taps the thick band of his ring against the clear case of the tape, teeth digging into his cheek as he knocks on your door.

The silence is deafening as he waits, and Eddie debates if he should just make a run for it before he makes a fool of himself, but then you open the door. And you’re so pretty, and Eddie’s fingers tighten around the tape for a split moment to ground himself because— fuck, what does he say? Why is he here again?

You’re staring at him with a blank gaze, bored and intimidating enough to have Eddie wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

Eddie clears his throat and shifts in his spot, “Are you busy?” You blink, glancing down at the tape in his hand before looking back at him. “Why?”

Well, there’s no going back, Eddie thinks. He raises the tape into your view, “I just need an hour. Just one hour so I can explain.”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning against the door, and boredly blink, “Explain what?”

Eddie shrugs, heart racing in his chest as he subtly shakes his head, “Everything.”

Eddie didn’t think you would say yes.

Honestly speaking, Eddie thinks you’re slightly insane for saying yes, but he doesn’t take it for granted— because now, Eddie is walking down Barclay St with you right beside him. It’s busy now that everybody’s 9-5 shift has ended, and there’s a slight breeze kicking in as you trek through the sea of people. 

You’re dressed in sneakers, jeans, and a light sweater to keep you warm— and Eddie thinks it’s adorable how the sleeves drape over your hands and how you fuss over it occasionally.

Transit is quicker to where Eddie is taking you, and the subway is always crowded and hectic, so Eddie doesn’t think about it when he grabs your hand as you trot down the subway steps. Your hand is warm and soft beneath his palm, and it feels so natural when you shift your thumb across the back of his hand, trying to keep up with his far strides.

Somebody bumps into you, and Eddie instinctively pulls you closer to him, gazing down at you as he asks if you’re okay. You nod, and Eddie squeezes your hand before continuing on the path to the train.

When you and Eddie get settled on the train, Eddie thinks you might hold onto his hand for the entire ride, but he’s sadly mistaken when you slip from his hold to fold your hands in your lap.

Eddie ignores the pang in his chest.

Eddie has dragged you all the way to Manhattan to stick you in a booth near the back of an old diner called Keens Steakhouse. You’ve never been here, but you’ve heard of it in passing; however, you wish Eddie had told you to wear something nicer instead of this oversized blanket of a sweater you have on.

Eddie is wearing jeans, a shirt, and a leather jacket, so you didn’t think much about what to wear— but that’s Eddie. Eddie Munson, the famous rockstar. Why would he care about the clothes he wears to some diner he’s probably eaten at a million times before?

The diner has dim lighting, but the tables are well-lit with a candle. Your waiter hands you two menus and a bottle before leaving you both to scan over the food items. You don’t bother to open your menu, watching Eddie fill your glasses with a rich wine. Eddie glances at you before clearing his throat, “The chef makes a mean filet mignon, by the way,” He begins as he sets the bottle aside, “And I’m not a big seafood person, but the shrimp is good.”

You say nothing, waiting for Eddie to stop beating around the bush and tell you why he made you trek across the city for wine. He glances at you, faltering for a split moment as he speaks, “We can change tables if you—” You shake your head with a wave of your hand, “It’s not that, Eddie, it’s just—” You huff, “Why are we here? Like, why did you bring me here?”

Eddie shifts in his seat and clears his throat, tapping his finger against the table once before taking a slow breath, “I think… I think it’s best if I explain my side of things before shit spins out of control.” He’s struggling to start, but the words slip from you before you can stop it, “You don’t think it’s too late for that?”

Eddie’s eyes are soft and pleading when he glances at you, pretty lips tucking between his lips as he shrugs, “I was hoping not…”

God, it’s weird seeing Eddie like this— teetering on the edge of vulnerability as he practically begs you to hear him out— if you weren’t so keen on hearing if he has something genuine to say, then you would’ve left a long time ago for the sake of his sanity.

Because you’re selfish and hope to hear something good, you nod, encouraging him to continue.

Eddie fidgets with the rings on his fingers as he begins to speak, “First things first, I just wanna get this out of the way,” He gazes at you, “I didn’t tell Richie anything. If anything, my guess would be someone from the crew told him, but I won’t list off any names.” He waves off.

You know he means James because who else would Eddie be talking about? But even though you strongly feel it wasn’t James, you don’t counteract Eddie’s silent claim. However, you’re not strong enough to hold back a quick roll of your eyes.

“And secondly… about last night.” He falters, and you take a deep breath before shifting in your seat. “It’s fine if you regret it, Eddie. You didn’t need to drag me here to say that; we can just forget it ever happened.”

You’re unsure if that’s what Eddie wanted to say, but you would rather be the first to call it out to save whatever dignity you have left. But Eddie quickly shakes his head, brown eyes wide and soft as he squashes that idea, “No! No, I don’t regret last night at all. I— that’s not why I brought you here.” And Eddie looks at you like he won’t ever get a chance to fix what he destroyed.

A steady exhale and the curling of his fingers into his palm, and you wish you were closer to him, even if he’s done nothing but push you away. You want to feel him. And sure, the flicker of his gaze down to your hand might imply that he wants the same, but you drop your hands to lay in your lap instead of the table, willing him to continue talking.

He clears his throat, “I shouldn’t have left— and honestly, I didn’t even want to leave,” His admission has your head ticking in confusion, “I wanted to stay with you, and I wanted—” He takes a breath, earth soaked eyes locking onto yours, “I left because I knew I didn’t deserve to stay.”

Well fuck, your heart is practically the wings of a hummingbird in your chest. It’s the most open Eddie has ever been with you aside from the time you shared alone in the dressing room, except now you are finally facing the truth of what is unfolding between you. 

Wayne’s words spin in your mind for a split moment, “Eddie doesn’t know what to do with nice… He hasn’t had much of that in his life.”

And you wonder why? What happened to create the beautiful mess sitting before you, waving his torn and stained white flag, calling off his troops to meet you in no man's land? And there’s a vast field behind Eddie that you have yet to discover, and there’s the same behind you, patiently waiting for whoever is willing to take the time and map out the intricate paths and valleys. You selfishly want it to be the man in front of you.

“I don’t know how to treat the people who selflessly care for me. I never got that, and it’s weird and new to me, and I didn’t understand how you could do that for— not just me, but practically everyone you meet. But I want to learn how to.”

It’s dizzying, really. The complete 180 Eddie has seemingly made— and is it wrong for you to hesitate to believe him? Is it wrong that you’re still unsure even though Eddie looks like he wants to practically crawl out of his skin? Because Eddie is so far from home, and it doesn’t even take years of knowing him to see that.

You shift your gaze to the table, sinking further into your seat as you tilt your head, and there’s an echo of how you felt last night that rings in your chest as you ask, “Where did you go, Eddie?”

Eddie is so pretty under candlelight. He’s defined and soft, and his hair looks like a golden mane when it catches the light. His eyes, always big and brown with honey-soaked pools of curiosity, they’re softer than they’ve ever been before. His bottom lip is tucked between his teeth and tortured with the jagged crowns of his teeth as he silently stresses. 

“I went to the studio.” He finally admits.

And you can’t seem to think of a single reason why Eddie would ever be this nervous to tell you he went to the studio— that’s his job, is it not?

Eddie shifts in his seat to reach into his jacket pocket to pull something out. “I brought you here so I could—” “Excuse me, Mr. Munson.” A waiter interrupts.

Eddie pauses, both of you turning your attention to the pristine man in black. The waiter clasps their hands behind their back, leaning forward as they speak, “Sorry to interrupt, but there’s a group up front claiming to be a part of your reservations. I didn’t see any more seats on the list, but they insisted I check with you.”

Eddie shoves whatever is in his hand back into his pocket as he looks over his shoulder, your gaze following his eyes as he curses. You can’t see much from your seat, so you’re riddled with confusion when Eddie grumbles something to himself as he turns back to the waiter, “Yeah, they’re my friends; send them over.”

The waiter nods and walks off as you send a look of confusion towards Eddie, “I thought there was a dinner tonight? Which, speaking of, why aren’t you there?” Eddie freezes at the question, “You know about the dinner?”

You nod, “Jeff and Gareth told me. Thanks for the invitation, by the way.” You grumble as Eddie stands up. Eddie curses, turning to you and holding an index finger, “To be fair, I wasn’t planning on going.” You raise an unconvinced eyebrow as Eddie turns around and cheers, stepping forward to hug who had expected to be Jeff or Gareth.

However, neither Jeff nor Gareth have light brown, wavy, shoulder-length hair.

It’s a woman, a pretty one with sunkissed freckles dotted all around her face. Behind her, and next to hug Eddie, is a man; soft, brown wisps of healthy hair long enough to kiss the tips of his ears. He catches your eyes over Eddie’s shoulder, and you find that he and Eddie share the same eye color.

Last to hug Eddie is another woman, kind-looking and just as pretty as the first, and with the curly strands that bounce along her shoulders, you might’ve guessed she and Eddie were related somehow.

The first girl peeks over Eddie’s shoulder and smiles, “Who’s this?” She squeaks, “Oh fuck, are we interrupting something? Steve— god, I told Steve we should’ve just waited to see you at the hotel.” The boy, Steve, you suppose, turns to the girl with an annoyed look as they start to bicker lightly. Eddie waves his hands to disperse the small moment, “As happy as I am to see you assholes, we actually were in the middle of something.” Eddie sarcastically smiles.

You roll your eyes and smile as you stand from the booth, “No, no, don’t worry about it.” You assure her as you step forward, placing a hand on Eddie’s shoulder to make room for yourself as you extend a hand in greeting. You tell her your name, and she smiles, “I’m Robin!” She responds. She gestures to the man, “This is Steve,” Steve waves, “And this is Nancy.” Nancy waves and smiles.

“We’re old friends from high school.” Nancy clears up the confusion.

And then it suddenly makes sense. Eddie had mentioned something about his tight-knit group of friends from Hawkins. He didn’t go in-depth on who was who, but you now realize why Robin had sounded like such a familiar name.

You beam at them as the pieces come together, “Oh! Nice to meet you; Eddie’s mentioned you all before,” You respond, “It’s nice to put faces to the names finally.” 

Steve awes at that and slaps a hand onto Eddie’s shoulder, “You’ve been talking about us? How sweet of you.” He jokingly teases, squeezing at the dip of Eddie’s shoulder and neck. Eddie bats him away with a ghost of a smile, and you smile, enjoying the look of familiar joy on Eddie’s face.

Eddie ushers you all to sit in the booth— and you don’t ignore the fact that he slides in right beside you. Robin and Nancy sit on the other side, and Steve squeezes in last despite Robin’s protests and grumbles about him having wide shoulders. Eddie sighs, hands fidgeting on the table as he speaks, “What are you guys doing here? I thought you were going to the dinner with the band.” He asks.

Steve scoffs as Nancy snickers, and Robin rolls her eyes, “Yeah, that was the plan,” Robin responds. “But these two,” She gestures between Nancy and Steve, “Didn’t want to dress for it. Jeff told us where you were, by the way.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at the mention of Jeff and his traitorous behavior.

Steve glances around the restaurant, and you catch Nancy’s eyes, sharing a quick, welcoming smile with one another. “Yeah, so can we, like, get out of here?” Steve asks in a bored manner before reaching over to grasp Eddie’s forgotten glass of wine. Eddie flicks Steve’s hand, and Nancy speaks up from the corner of the booth, “Do either of you know a place with good drinks?”

Eddie looks beyond bothered by how his friends crashed your short-lived dinner, so you answer, “There’s a karaoke bar down the street; they have a good happy hour, too.” You shrug. Steve and Robin perk up at the mention of karaoke, and Nancy groans, “God, don’t get these two started on karaoke. They don’t stop.” She complains.

Steve shrugs and slides out of the booth, “Too bad, we’re going.” He tugs his friends out of the booth. With the small window of no attention on you or Eddie, Eddie turns to you, “I’m sorry.” He motions toward his friends. You smile and shake your head, “That’s okay.”

Eddie leans in, and your heart skips a beat. You’re shocked when Eddie’s cool fingers brush against yours beneath the table and slip something into your hand, “This is what I brought you here for.” He softly says.

You glance beneath the table to see the clear cassette tape that Eddie had when you opened your door. You glance back at him, confusion riddled on your features, “What’s this?” You ask. Eddie’s gaze flickers to your lips before locking back on your eyes, “My apology.”

His apology?

Your mind reels for a few moments until you remember what Eddie had said yesterday, “I said sorry. An actual apology, I did it, and you weren’t fucking there to hear it.”

Before you can respond, Steve clasps a hand over Eddie’s shoulder, grabbing both of your attention, “Let’s go, man; I’m gonna battle you in a sing-off.” Behind Steve, Nancy and Robin stand hand in hand, Robin impatiently waving for you and Eddie to get up.

Mind reeling with a mix of emotions; you barely have enough time to shove the tape in your bag before Eddie drags you out of the booth.

With the tape practically burning a hole through your side and your mind telling you to slow down, your heart flutters in your chest as you allow yourself to weave your fingers through Eddie’s.

And when you see the small smile that grazes across Eddie’s lips, you decide to let yourself have this moment, even if you’re still wary of Eddie’s true intentions.

And once again, for the second night in a row, you find yourself in Eddie’s trap.

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part ten

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a/n: HIIII, you made it to the end !!! look at them evolving :') we're almost to the end friends, hang in there w me i beg !! i hope u enjoyed, and as always, i love love love reading any and all feedback as well as ur silly thots <3 TY FOR READING I LOVE U VERY BIG MWAHHH <3

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[obsessedwrhys]

SCIENCE VS MAGIC

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Donnie disapproves your magical abilities. Sort of enemies to lovers trope, lots of bickering, reader has telekinetic/telepathic powers (origin will be explained throughout the fic), fluff, angst, this fic is kinda long (didnt proof read I got lazy). Reader is fem!!

ᯓ★

To think that all of this started from a normal dumpster that you ended up crashing into after falling out of the sky was like a cliché opening to a movie. Even from the height of the fall, due to your superhuman abilities, you managed to survive but however you endured some severe injuries that left you unconscious.

The crash was loud enough to catch the attention of the four mutant brothers just a few blocks away. Once they made it to the scene, it was like a scene from E.T. They were actually convinced they just witnessed the crash of a spaceship, but there was no spaceship of any kind, just a girl inside a dumpster bin.

"Did she just fall out of the sky?" The eldest asked out of concern.

"Ooooh, do you think she's an alien?" The brother in the blue nudges his brother with a playful smirk.

"According to the visual evidence before me... no, she is NOT an alien Leo"

"Awwww c'mon, maybe aliens also look... humanly!"

"Then does that mean we're aliens?"

"Alright, enough chit-chatting. All this alien talk is making my brain itch. Let's bring her somewhere safe" The eldest suggested which the rest easily went along with.

Just like that you were brought into their lair, you were instantly taken into Donnie's lab to have your wounds treated. Since the brothers trusted him, they left to let him do his work. With his goggles on, he carefully applied medicine on some of your wounds with the help of his tweezers. It was when you hissed that it made his body jump.

"A bit gentle will you?" You asked and he stares at you for a while.... before skedaddling to his monitor to check on your current health status.

From how fast he ran you almost thought you scared him. Just then it came to the realisation that you weren't in your home realm, you were in a completely different place. You could tell because you couldn't detect anyone of your kind with your telepathy. You watched as the... turtle? A walking turtle? Wait turtles walk. A humanoid turtle? Man what realm is this...?

"You're in stable condition even though you fell from about 100 kilometres from the sky. How is that even possible?" He stroked his chin as he taps on the side of his face while trying to make sense of all of this.

"Well... I drank some milk before I ran away. Maybe it made my bones stronger"

"That is absurd. Milk does not make your bones stronger! That supposition is unjustified and irrational. I refuse to hear any of it" He said, or more of the word, yapped. He then took off his goggles and put it aside to continue typing whatever it is on his keyboard.

"Okay, sorry... but I need to get going" You got up but the pain from your injuries made you stutter in your movements, you hiss from the pain.

"That won't be possible. You will need time and energy to heal due to your condition. Besides, what can be more important?" He said, forcing you to lay back down on the operating table.

"Well... would you believe me if I told you I'm a being with superhuman abilities who also happen to be on the run from some space cops because I was accused of breaking realities by travelling in between too much?" You asked. Your question having him bat his eyes at you a few times. Suddenly he starts to examine you with his eyes sparked with intrigue but it was for the wrong reason.

"Ah, hallucination, one of the most common causes of brain damage. How could I have failed to notice this? Could you stare into this light? How many fingers am I holding up?" He continued on trying to examine you but you just stare at him in disbelief.

Of course he thinks you're crazy.

Guess there's only one way to prove yourself.

"Now if you'd just—" The second he sees all of his things floating from the table was when he finally shut his mouth close, his eyes wide from shock as he began to freak out on what to do in this situation.

"I'm not hallucinating and neither are you... this is all magic" You simply said before putting all his things back to it's rightful spots.

He stands there, his eyes not blinking even once as he seems to be having a very hard time digesting your words. Magic?

M.A.G.I.C.?

His left eye twitched which made you wonder if you had just struck a nerve.

"Magic. Does not exist...!" He said, grabbing what seems to be his tool. A staff?

"Magic roughly translates to the art of manipulating natural forces. Annnnnd that's exactly what science does. Magic is just a thing people make up to downplay the works of scientific discovery because SOME people happen to not appreciate the gift of wisdom but rather on fantasy. It's quite self-centered if so to speak" He crossed his arms with a faint smug. Did he just look at you when he highlighted the word some?

"That sucks... but you can't deny that what I have is magic" You said, using your telekinesis to grab a bag of candy from the shelf.

"DONT TOUCH MY STUFF!!"

"I'm not touching!! Look!" You held up both your hands in the air as you used your power to feed yourself the candy roll. He glares at you as he snatches the bag of candy from the air.

"That's it! If you will be staying at MY lair living in MY lab, you will be living under MY rules missy!"

"Missy?!"

"Yes you heard me louuuud and clear!" He said. Ah some part of you is telling you this is gonna be a complicated stay compared to the rest you've had.

For the next few days, you were able to properly get to know the people who have saved you. They introduced themselves as brothers. The one who seemingly always checked up on you was named Raph whilst the other two brothers who are always hanging out with you were Leo and Mikey. That leaves the brother who was... well... constantly eyeing you being Donnie.

The reason why you'd phrase it like that was because every time you found yourself simply resting or spending time with his brothers, you could always catch him spying on you. Most of the time he'd just be peaking from behind objects or if he's feeling brave, he'll straight up choose to stand on the other side of the room with his eyes locked on you like a hawk.

If the staring wasn't weird enough, he would also ask you multiple questions that he seem to have written down in his notebook. He would have the end of his pen pressed against his chin as he asks his questions.

"Well, with your gifted talents, are you able to read minds?" He asked, seated on the ground as he faces you.

"Yes" You responded with your arms folded.

"Confident, but that doesn't mean you're correct. In order to comfirm that theory, we must carry out a test. Now, what number am I thinking?"

"7"

He'd stay silent, his brows slightly narrowed as he slowly nods to himself.

"Interesting... buuuuut 7 is the most common number people would think of in this scenario... it could just be a lucky guess" He said, brushing off your showcase just now while he jot down on his notebook.

You tried your hardest not to roll your eyes once you heard his response. Why does he even bother asking these questions if he doesn't like the answers you give him? Something tells you he's probably just messing with you.

"Alright, next question, are you able to carry out mind control?"

Multiple times, you've told yourself to be patient but as days go by, his behaviour was really driving you insane... to be fair you've also been driving him insane by sharing his room. He seems crazy obsessed with privacy. Which you get. But he's on a whole different level.

"Seriously?" You'd stand in front of his invention. You have no knowledge of what it's even made out of but you were sure it was programmed to keep you out of his side of the room. See it as a semi-transparent wall that he can activate and deactivate.

"I'm not gonna touch your things. You act like I'm some kind of criminal"

"Which YOU AREE!! Your story of being wanted by these space cops easily proves that point. I will NOT risk my tech to be stolen by a space criminal!!" He'd say, pointing at you before crossing his arms with his body facing the other away.

"..... no hard feelings" He'd add in the end.

Riggggght. No hard feelings.

"Well then, I guess I'll just go and have a goodnight sleep" You'd turn on your heels but after taking just a few steps, you'd stop in your tracks. Your back still facing him.

"Oh and by the way, the name space criminal sounds pretty cool. Don't you think?" You'd ask as you show him the remote he needs to deactivate the wall he has set up. The second he sees he has lost it, he began to panic and check for ways out.

"Nononono...! But how?!" He'd question since he was sure it was on him the entire time you've talked.

"A criminal never reveals her tricks" You'd grin as you happily hopped away. The sound of him slamming on the wall making the satisfaction in you grow.

"NO!! DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE!! COME BACK!! HEY!!"

Despite you slowly getting use to his behaviour, you still wonder why he has this much dislike towards you. You wouldn't say it's hate since he's still generous enough to let you stay in his room. But who knows? What if he did actually hate you? You laid down on the skateboard ramp as you stared up at the ceiling.

Your peace soon interrupted once you sensed the familiar presence of someone approaching you. You tried to ignore him when he suddenly sat down beside you. It was awkward silence for a moment.

"... what are you doing?"

"Resting"

"Resting? Does your abilities cause you to grow tired quickly?" He'd ask, whipping out his notebook from out of nowhere.

"Is it like a video game where you have an energy bar for each time you use it? Does it happen to also drain your life force? Do you age faster?" His questions were being asked quicker than you could answer. It was really annoying you like he was a fly that wouldn't leave you alone.

"Do you happen to burn calori—"

"Shhhh" The sound of you shushing him mid sentence made his eyes go wide. It was like he wasn't sure what had just happened.

"Excuse me I wasn't—"

"Shhhh"

His brows twitched almost out of fury once he realised what game you were playing at.

"I—"

"Shhh"

"Now you—"

"Shhhhhhhhh"

"LISTEN—!"

"SHUUUUUSHHH!" Your words causing him to be so frustrated that he had to turn around and mutter whatever that it is to himself. From a few words you could only pick up being 'Dumb dumb' and 'You're the better person here'. You had to admit watching him lose it was hilarious to watch.

When he turned back around, you quickly stopped yourself from grinning and went back to your poker face. He takes a deep breath before he exhales painfully slow to sooth himself. You're pretty sure he's gone insane.

"It seems there's no use arguing against someone who doesn't listen" He'd speak but you chose not to say anything this time. Your absent of words irritating him bit by bit.

"I see. The common tactic of giving me the cold shoulder in an attempt to make me seem like I'm the idiot, well I hate to disappoint you but i will not easily fall for such trap" He said as he ends up crossing his arms with his chest slightly puffed out. His head facing the other way and his eyes shut from his pettiness.

It's bizarre how you're both the same age but he acts like such a kid compared to you. You sighed.

"Why do you even hate magic so much? Or just me in general. Do you have some sort of grudge?" You questioned and he opened his left eye to look at you, then his right eye. You could see his face relaxing slightly at your question.

"What makes you think I'd tell you?"

Ah what were you thinking... of course he wouldn't tell you...

"... fair point. Have a good day" You got up and ended leaving him there. Your powers helping you sense the disbelief he was experiencing at that moment.

Days passed by and each second that goes, you began to miss the realm you were originally from. Your family, your friends, they must be worried sick about you. Yet you're stuck in this world where you feel caged inside the sewers. There has to be a way to jump back into the realm of your home without triggering the system the space cops have set up.

You'd spend your time drawing out strategies and calculating the possibility of the chances of it succeeding. All of those plans written on plain paper you may or may not have stolen from Donnie's pile but oh well, it's not that you took that many anyways, besides he won't find out since you hide it under your pillow.

After countless tries, you still couldn't find the answer. The security is tight since those space cops are really out to get you. The thought of this being your new life really gives you the shivers. Just as you went in the kitchen to grab a drink, you were then approached by Raph.

"Hey (Y/N), you don't seem to be in good shape" He'd point out the frown on your face which you were quick to drop.

"Oh, that's nothing. Just still adjusting to this world. I haven't really gotten the chance to explore" You said before taking a sip of your drink.

"Well... in that case. How about you join us tonight for patrol?" He'd suggest. The offer so good that obviously you couldn't pass it up.

Which brings you on the rooftop with the four brothers. You had to admit it was nice to finally breath fresh air for once in this realm. The city seems so alive and although the tech isn't as advanced compared to where you're from, it still made the place look so fast paced and pretty. Is that a hotdog stand? You stood at the edge of the rooftop as you admired the streets, failing to notice Donnie who's been glaring at you since you've arrived.

"Alright boys.... and uh... girl. You get the drill!! Let's get this—" Sounds of a scream interrupted his words. All five of you duck to see a woman getting cornered by a gang of thugs in a dark alley.

"Oh no... we gotta help her!"

"Do not worry brother, for I have just the right tool—"

Before he could even finish talking, you have already jump down to the alley with the use of your telekinesis to help you land safely. You threw punches and kicks while simultaneously dodging the attacks thrown at you. Your moves catching the brothers off, each having a reaction of their own.

"Helllll yeahhh!! Save some for me!!" Leo said as he was quick to join you in the fight.

"Wait! Careful!" Raph following close by.

"Man! Who'd knew (Y/N) could fight like that?" Mikey was utterly astonished while Donnie who stands beside him had his teeth gritted out of annoyance.

"Yeaaah... who would have known...." His eyes sharp when examining all of your moves.

It didn't take long until all of the thugs were unconscious on the ground, you used your powers to tie them up with the rope that was conveniently nearby. The woman was safe and had managed to run away safely away from the danger. To avoid anyone from seeing you guys, you were all quick to leave. On the rooftop is where you celebrated your victory with them.

"That was awesome!! Up tops (Y/N)!!" He'd put his hand up and you were fast to high five him.

"What do you say we go celebrate this over some pizza?" Raph suggested which almost everyone went along with, all except Donnie.

Even back in the lair he was quiet. His expression blank like he doesn't seem happy about the pizza or anything. It peaked your interest almost instantly. That's why once the hangout was over and that everyone has gone to sleep, you felt awkward trailing behind him to his room. You could tell from his body language he had his guard up.

"Rough night?" You tried to start small talk with him. Something you didn't think you'd find yourself doing.

Even though he heard you, he still remained silent. This is starting to feel like karma for how you treated him all the time. You watched as he removes his armour to reveal his soft shell. Even though you'd normally just go to your side of the room, you couldn't bring yourself to walk away, you didn't know why but you felt involved with whatever it is he's dealing with right now.

"Is something wrong?" You questioned but he tried to ignore your presence by putting his equipments away.

"You're not your usual self... did something happen?" You asked and you could see his shoulders tense at your words.

"Hey I'm—"

"Just— Just stop!" He'd shout, suddenly turning around to look at you. His gaze deadly cold as he stares into your irises.

"You think you can just come into my life and try to take my spot?! All these countless years of building and inventing machines for my brothers, only for a fairy tale like YOU to pop out of nowhere!!" He'd say, putting out hand gestures to express his emotions.

You didn't say anything but listened with your eyes slightly wide. So this was how he felt about you...?

"It's not fair!! How is it that you can just do all these things with a flick of your wrist while I have to spend restless nights to even achieve that little?! You—!" He'd stop short, unable to finish as he takes a break to catch his breath.

You frown.

Ah you really feel like a terrible person right now... and it's not that you could control how you were birthed with your powers... but it was mostly because of the way you were pushing his buttons ever since you came. You joining their patrol tonight must have been the last straw.

"You're right. It's not fair" You'd utter and he stares at you, a bit taken aback from your sudden confession.

"It's not fair I get a head start compared to the rest... but that doesn't mean you can put out that anger at me! It's not my fault! Besides, you're clearly a smart dude and a very good brother from what I've seen. So why are you comparing yourself to me? It's like comparing a shark to an orca! It was never meant to be fair" You said. His eyes slowly trailing away like he was no longer able to look at you directly like he did before.

"I... sigh you're right... I'm... s—sorry" He muttered, his voice faint but you heard exactly what he was trying to say.

"Don't worry about it... I'm also sorry for the way I've treated you. Let's start over?" You asked, a slight smile on your face and he couldn't help but admit it was a good look on you.

"Yeah"

Ever since then, his behaviour around you seemed to change little by little. His questions seem to become less as he was now more attentive when listening to your answers. He'd also quit his weird staring habit... well just almost... he still stares at you but instead of looking so focused like you're a strange object, he looks at you with a more friendly expression.

His drastic change really got to you.

It was like a whole brand new person.

He began to act kind towards you. Even going as far as to offering to help with your strategy planning, it definitely threw you off guard when he told you he was willing to help. Obviously his constant yapping and disagreements are still there but they seem more playful compared to before. It was when you realised how he has made you laugh multiple times that you start to notice these feelings developing in you.

You almost hated yourself when you came to the conclusion you had fallen for the guy.

The same guy you could barely tolerate weeks ago.

The question now was that, did he feel the same for you? You could try reading his mind but would that be crossing the line? You'd be evading his privacy and that's the last thing you'd want to do. Inside the room where you laid on your bed, you couldn't help but think about these thoughts while also having your papers of plans scattered across you. How did all of these feelings even came from...?

"Well you're up early" He'd come in the room with a cup of coffee. You nearly jump at his voice.

"I'm early?" You chuckled, noting he was the one to be first out of bed.

"Jokes on you I didn't even sleep" He then placed his cup on his table before joining to examine your mess of papers.

"Now, shall we continue?" He asked to which you nodded.

It was hard to even focus being so close to him. Gosh you really are incapable of thinking now. You gulped, trying to remain calm. This was not you. You never act like this around anyone. All of this stressing made you zone out that Donnie took notice after realising you hadn't been listening to a thing he's been telling you.

"Hellllooooo? Have you used your telepathy to block me out? That's really typical" He'd say and it quickly took you back to the present.

"What?"

"What?" He laughs at your confused state. Ah this is giving you even more mixed signals...

"Sorry, just tired from waking up, let's continue" You said, trying to ignore what just happened, feeling as though you were slightly embarrassed.

"Nononoo, you've been constantly daydreaming everytime I talk to you. Something's up" He'd say.

Oh man some part of you wished he wasn't this observant.

"I guess... I'm just missing home...?" You lied, trying to excuse your behaviour. If he ever finds out you might just bury yourself.

"So you're homesick?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Don't worry, there's no shame to it, the sooner we solve this the sooner we get you home" He said confidently.

He then moved closer to you, his actions causing you to freeze. You were unsure what he was trying to do as he inches closer and closer to you.... just to get a pen? You were embarrassed the second he moved back to his spot. With the pen in hand he continued on writing. Ah that was awkward.

All this beating around the bush was driving you crazy.

"I figured it out!" Donnie exclaimed and it got your attention. You turn to him to look at his plan. It was a bit complicated but with the right timing it could work.

Then you wondered what will happen after you finally found a way home.

Are you just gonna simply leave?

"You don't look awfully happy about this. Is the joy too much that you're struggling to express it?" He grinned.

You sigh.

Now would be the best time.

"No I just... uhm... I have feelings for you?" You awkwardly confessed. Your words making the grin on his face drop.

"I'm saying it now so that if you reject me I can just simply go and we can pretend none of this happened" You tried to lighten up the mood with a weak smile but the shock on Donnie's face made you wonder if this was a bad idea.

Suddenly he was blushing.

You had to blink twice to make sure what you seeing was true.

"Ah... why'd you have to make it worse for me? I was trying to get rid of these feelings" He ran his hand across his face.

What?

"Do you not love me?" You asked and it made him panic.

"Nono! It's not that, it's that... how will I love you if you're never with me? You have a home and I realised it's not here" He frown.

Maybe, it was in the heat of the moment, but you suddenly had a solution to solve this problem.

A solution you would blindly do for love.

"Then I'll stay"

"Sta—stay?! You can't—"

"But I can. Those space cops are out to get me and as much as I miss my people, I'm afraid I could put them in danger if I head back. Maybe... I can stay a little longer?" You said and for a second he stares at you... but soon his eyes sparkles with gleam.

"You wanna stay with me?" You smiled at how awfully innocent he sounded when he asked.

"I guess you've grown on me"

"Well wow... haha... okay... um..." He stutters, struggling to even put the right words in the right order.

"Do you want to um... eat lunch... together? I assume that you're starving right now" He said, trying to play it off.

"Sure, will you be cooking my meal?" You joked which he was quick to return with a smile.

"I'm starting to think you're gonna be more of handful now that we're dating"

"Likewise"

[kermitkrqb]

Perfect Pair || Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: Something about evil blondes is gonna do it for me every single time. Until next time, lovelies! 💗

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow x dark!reader, enemies to lovers, Coryo’s violent thoughts, attempted murder, spit play?? (does it count? idk. but i’ll leave this here anyway), dub-con kisses.

‘No loose ends’, Something Coriolanus often reminded himself. The same words had echoed in his head when he had sent his only friend to be hung. Poor, trusting, and foolish Sejanus. Coriolanus wished it could have stopped there, but it seems everywhere the Snow boy stepped, a trail of withering destruction followed. Once that destruction had eventually caught up with him, he’d found that his beloved Lucy Gray Baird wanted nothing to do with him. Why couldn’t she have understood? Everything he did was for her, for them. She had fled from his love as if it were poison, and maybe it was. But, he’d argue that she was just as poisonous, latching onto him as he did everything in his power to ensure her safety- milking him for everything he had. Only to leave once she had found out that he in fact did everything in his power to ensure her safety. So what if he had killed Sejanus? Sejanus’ recklessness would have gotten them all killed eventually. Although, it was all over now. In the form of Lucy Gray Baird, he had cut off his final loose end, leaving her in the forest and vowing to never love again- which was originally the plan.

There you were, standing across the room in a perfectly poised manner. He loathed it, loathed you. Coriolanus knew that you had always been smart, a close contender to the Plinth prize, a top student like him but not quite as good. Although, he had underestimated you. A few nights ago, much like the rest of your Academy classmates, you were celebrating the end of the semester at university. He had found himself exchanging petty insults with you on some balcony when you had revealed something rather bone-chilling. Coriolanus would have pushed you off the second floor if it weren’t for the abundance of people in the next room. Tipsy on posca, you had let it slip that you knew the circumstances of Sejanus’ death. How? He did not find out. You had taunted him, backed him into a corner, threatening to tell the Plinth’s that the golden boy they had adopted was not so golden after all. You had made a fool of Coriolanus Snow of all people. He hated you for it… but you had done something even more unexpected. You let him go. Although, he wasn’t going to take the risk. He couldn’t afford it, not after everything he had done to get where he is now- in the care of the two grieving parents of Sejanus, living the life of luxury he had always deserved.

Coriolanus had convinced Strabo Plinth to host another gala, hiding behind the excuse of ‘making connections’ for when he would eventually rise to power as the President. It was partially true, although, his main motive was to lure you in. Coriolanus had planned to poison you tonight, alongside a few other people he saw as threats. He would disguise it as another rebel attack, blame the staff- anything to ensure his protection. He watched from across the room as you eagerly conversed with a few gamemakers and former classmates. It was almost sickening to him, the sweet smiles you would flash, the way you would carry yourself so confidently. He could see right through you, because you were just like him. Driven by ambition, power hungry. He hated you. You caught his eye from where you stood, holding his gaze as you sent him a smile. What others might have interpreted as an innocent interaction, Coriolanus knew it was a silent threat. He was the first to look away, making his way through the crowd as he headed towards a secluded hallway, silently beckoning you to follow.

You of course took the bait, like he had planned, “Well if it isn’t Coriolanus Snow.” The click of your heels echoed across the hallway as you made your way over to him, like a snake slithering to its prey. You were adorned in a blood red gown, quite fitting for your personality, he thought. You had a glass of posca in your hand, the very drink that had gotten him into this mess. Coriolanus studied you for a moment, his blue eyes piercing through you before he broke the silence, forgoing any pleasantries, “Y/n. What is it that you want from me?” Unfazed by his cold tone, a small smile spreads across your lips, “What are you willing to give me?” The nerve of you. He wanted to scream, choke you until the life faded from your eyes, instead, he took a deep breath, “$50,000, and a formal introduction to Dr Gaul. Perhaps she’ll mentor you as well.” Coriolanus knew fully well that he was offering money he didn’t have, Strabo would never give him such amounts of money on short notice, but you didn’t have to know. After all, you’d be dead by the end of the night.

You tilt your head at him, swirling the glass of posca in your hand as you thought about his proposition, “$50,000? I’m sure you can be a little more generous Snow…considering you’re practically a Plinth now.”Coriolanus feigned annoyance, stepping closer and eventually cornering you, “You have plenty of money, what use would you have with even more?” He watched as your breath catches in your throat due to his proximity, he relished in your reaction and watched as you caught yourself, putting on a confident facade, a hint of flirtation in your voice. “You’re right… but I do like playing with you… you’re my favourite toy.” Coriolanus finds himself wondering who else had fallen victim to your vicious games. He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear, “Is that so? I don’t quite like this game of yours…” He notices how your breathing falters with every inch forward that he takes. He uses this to his advantage, pressing up against you and leaning in so his nose brushes against yours, as if he were to kiss you. Your vision is shielded as he invades your personal space, dulling your senses as you focus on his touch. With light fingers, he reaches into his pocket and drops a small dose of poison in your glass of posca. He whispers, “50 grand, take it or leave it.”

Coriolanus takes a step back, watching as you try compose yourself. He can only smirk at your flustered state, and inevitably, you take a sip from your glass on instinct. You’re about to take another sip when you see the way he’s eyeing your drink. A glint of malice in his eyes. You swallow nervously, stepping forward in panic, “What did you do to me?” He bites back a laugh, grinning to himself, “Soon enough, you’ll be dead- poisoned. But don’t worry dear, you won’t be the only one. The world will know your names, the poor victims to another ‘rebel attack.’ Don’t you know? Snow lands on top.” But then you do the unthinkable. You take another swig from your glass, filling your mouth with the poisoned posca before grabbing him by the collar and pulling him into a forceful kiss. It was intoxicating, the way the sweet but deadly wine traveled down his throat, alongside the soft pillowy touch of your lips against his own. Mutually assured destruction. He wanted to hate you for it, he really did, but you were just so brilliant. Is this what he had been missing all along? He had liked the supposed innocent love he shared with Lucy Gray, but this, you, were truly deadly. Just like him.

Coriolanus stumbles back, shocked. You watch with a somewhat amused expression, considering the circumstances. “Time is ticking Snow. I assume you’re not stupid enough to go without the antidote?” He feels his eyes roll into the back of his skull, he reluctantly pulls out another vial, and before you can snatch it from his hands, he holds it above your head. You scowl as he taunts you, and he simply laughs, “My god, you’re insufferable.” You watch with outrage as he takes a generous swig from the vial, and before you can say anything, he presses his lips to yours, just as forcefully. You let out a soft groan as he transfers some of the liquid into your mouth, you swallow hungrily, keeping your lips locked with his. You wanted to hate him, but the way he kissed you had your heart fluttering with desire. Perhaps he isn’t so bad, you think. Coriolanus pulls away, his breathing heavy as he takes in your flushed state and slightly swollen lips. It was that day forward that your two fates would be sealed. “Stand by me Y/n. Stand by me, and we’ll be untouchable.” And so you do, eventually becoming the First Lady of Panem as he rises to power as President, a perfect pair indeed.

A/N: Also, saw someone shit talking the Coryo fan fics out there the other day?? I think most, if not all of the writers in this fandom are absolutely amazing, which is why I’m confused. So, if you don’t like the content, don’t read it, and you think it’s so bad, then write your own. Go on then. There are these amazing writers taking the time out there to fulfil your asks, your requests in their own time. They don’t have to, but they do anyway. Show your writers the love and appreciation they deserve. Sorry for the rant, I just hate it when people are so rude.

Support your writers! 💗💗💗