#please send me more asks about persona

[petorahs]

i'm just gonna: ☀️ anon. There.

Anyway: I can see where you're coming from and like I said it has been forever since I played the Answer and I don't /hate/ it. But I guess I always had an issue with Yukari, because she seemed to me needlessly mean to others sometimes? Like she was right and others are wrong so its fine if she can be mean? But that is just what I /remember/. And while yeah, characters are allowed to be mean and not perfect and allways kind, especially female characters, because GOD FORBID women do anything- it also doesn't mean I have to LIKE her. I guess it's because to me Yukari felt like someone who would unironically call someone having fun "cringe", which for me personally is a dealbreaker. But Persona ALWAYS had this issue with having the male bestie be the buttmonkey of jokes, some kind of pervert and dunked on by the other characters and Junpei is still having it the best?? (Yosuke, Ryuji, you boys deserved so so much better).

In any case, I guess I couldnt give her as much leeway or credit because her personality didn't really mesh with me. But now being older I also think that it is BECAUSE of the writing. Persona Games have all extremely low points and extreme high points. The entire first palace is great in persona 5, Persona 4s social links with the Dojima family are really gripping and persona 3 is still one of my faves because it just came at the very right time in my life. (Who would've thought that a game about DEATH as its core theme would SAVE me.) But the writing is not always very consistent and the characters really suffer for it, usually for very stupid reasons like """""humor""""". I guess I am just trying to say that I get what you mean, but Yukari is just not my fave so I guess it is easier for me to lose patience. Like there are characters I'd go to war for in the persona series, so its easier for me to see the GOOD writing aspects, while others might greatly dislike them and therefore have a far easier time seeing the writing from more negative perspectives.

But your analysis has really given me some food for thought. I will definitely try to pay it more attention on a replay!

Oh ONE MORE THING!!!

It always felt like Yukari was pushed as a sort of "main love interest" which always kinda felt off to me when persona games do that. maybe its because i am gay and therefore see myself more representated by same sex couples/queer couples, maybe its because the persona developers believe men and women cant just be friends it always has to be something romantic, maybe its because the romantic writing always seemed forced and reliant on little events like in a romance shoujo manga- idk, but that was also something that rubbed me the wrong way. But that has been issues in P3-P5 throughout. And i feel like p3 got it the worst??? At least in later games you could opt for just a friendship even tho the writing still made it APPARENT THAT THE GIRLS ARE IN LOVE WITH YOU SPECIAL BOY!!! Sorry Yukari, that's not really your fault, thats a systemic fault.

yoo valid as hell though i get wym. if the character isnt for you then they arent for you and again, im not here to convince you otherwise of anything!

when you say it like that i can see why yukari's a bit of a mixed bag. i still like her tho she kinda a baddie and as a guy i like when girls are kinda mean to me so agree to disagree

ah yes the persona lovers arcana girl suffering from pushed "main love interest" syndrome.. i havent played any other aside from p3 and p5 but i heard rise gets worse. but like you said it is a systemic fault. to be real with you none of the romance options in p3 really enticed me despite 3 being hailed as ""the best dating sim"" out of all three modern games. maybe i just need to play portable. or be able to romance ryoji as makoto lmaoo (i saw a screenshot with ryoji saying he'd like you regardless of gender and. 😭 thanks for nothing i guess atlus?)

hard agree on the persona series as a whole having a tendency of doing something really good but then!!........ not. sticking the landing at all. theres so much to be said about it god these games are a hot mess on average its funny. as much as i adooore it, p3's pacing was so ass that i got severe tonal whiplash on oct 4. couldnt even begin to grieve cause i was so shocked

if you ever replay the answer (which. godspeed to you thats a whole grindfest i wouldnt wish on my worse enemy) i hope youre able to have fun and find new things about it to like! overall we can agree that its good so theres that. talk to you soon o7

[cale-alchemist]

A persona au idea I've been playing with for a while is a wildcard akechi au where he gets a persona for every confidant he has.

Still debating whether he gets them just after forming the confidant or at rank 10 because I want Loki to be his devil confidant and shidos one but to get to rank 10 he'd probably need Loki in the first place. Robin hood is his first persona similar to Arsene or orpheus

Also he absolutely gets a new outfit per persona I want to dress him up (I have deemed this the magical girl akechi au mentally due to that( I also think he'd also have several interactions with the thieves while in different costumes)

Anyways actual persona ideas I have for him.

Pinocchio is a big one, I'm not sure if theres actually a pinocchio persona in any of the games but I figure it fits what personas tend to be based off really well and like. The Themes are so peak. Not sure what confidant I'd actually relate it back to though. The star perhaps?

I think sherlock could also work as one since jokers persona is Arsene lupin (or herlock? I actually havent read the lupin books yet so I know more about normal sherlock) i can also just see akechi not enjoying having sherlock as a persona at all, too stereotypical in his eyes. Probably from saes confidant? (If this were to be a full fledged au I'd probably make ocs for him to have confidants with)

Those are my two main ideas but I also think giving him a persona based off of Christian myth could be neat but I'd have to do more research. And giving him a persona of the greek goddess nemesis is also a idea I like but again I'd have to do more research

Some silly lil extra persona ideas I'm iffy on are doing one based off Jekyll and hyde because the themes just fit him very well (if anyone's actually reading this in the books Jekyll very much is just one person who uses the persona of hyde to let out any dark desires look if Arsene lupin can become a persona so can he)

The snow queen or the boy from the snow queen (basically the snow queen is the force of snow and cold, nature given a face. She fits more as a persona but less for akechi. While the boy is a kind little boy who when two shards of a evil mirror fall into his eye and heart it makes him both see the world as ugly and it freezes his heart. Eventually hes kidnapped by the ice queen and becomes her servant I guess?? Hes basically her pet in the literal sense) this would be his hermit persona I'd imagine.

Not sure what his fool (akira) one would be. I could keep it as hereward just change it to it's own being instead of a fusion? And with a funky new outfit of course

Anyways that's all! Nice to get some of this written down

[rosesaints]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* HIT ME HARD AND SOFT!

DID I BREAK YOUR HEART? DID I WASTE YOUR TIME? ⸻ t. fushiguro, g. suguru, n. kento, g. satoru

summary: your breakup (and sometimes makeup) sex experiences with jjk men when inspired by the new billie eilish album! angst. warnings: 18+ mdni, mentions of infidelity, lots of angst lol, unprotected sex, breeding kink (nanami), fingering, oral (f!receiving)

: ̗̀➛ TOJI FUSHIGURO

I SAW YOU IN THE CAR WITH SOMEONE ELSE AND COULDN'T SLEEP! if something happens to him, you can bet that it was me.

toji doesn't know how he feels about the fact that you've moved on, and he decides to do something about it.

"is this really what you're doing now? living the dream?"

toji has this remarkable talent of sensing when you're finally at peace. you had just been dropped off at your aparment by your date, and the dust hadn't even settled yet before toji materialized by your door.

"that's exactly what the fuck i'm doing," you scoffed. red hot anger coursing through your veins as he acts like your relationship was nothing more than a lunatic pipe dream. like the very prospect of you being happy with someone else was an idea so foreign, it was laughable. "go home, toji. i don't even know why you came. did you really think that coming here, guns blazing and chest puffed up, would convince me to come back?"

toji appraises you for a moment, and it shouldn't send a shock down your spine, but the next thing he says does.

"has he made you cum?"

you freeze.

the truth was, your date hasn't. poor guy couldn't even last four seconds inside you before cumming, sheepishly evading you afterwards to clean himself off to properly satisfy you.

"you heard me, sweetheart. i won't ask again," toji grins. "what's wrong? where's all that fire you had earlier?"

"n-no," you try hard to fight the humiliation that threatens to bubble over in your chest. "not...not yet⸺"

he's stepping forward in mere moments, crowding you into your apartment and locking the door behind him, a wicked smile on the edge of his lips.

"you know, i like this new persona of yours. seriously, i really do," he's so close, invading your personal space and you can feel how hard he's getting against your thigh. "all this bite, all this fire, it's fucking sexy. but i think it's time to stop fucking around and come home, yeah?"

you know there's only ever been one way to go with toji.

"you poor thing," much later, to his delight, toji's got his one of his hands working back and forth over your cunt, pleased at how soaked and needy and docile you were, hips jutting forward to meet his rough, calloused hand. his other hand's wrapped around your much smaller hand, jerking him off in a brutal and agonizing pace. he curses at the way you're grazing your teeth over his neck, whimpering every time he circles your clit. "fuck. so fucking needy."

"pretty little cunt's gone so long without being touched, huh? that's okay," you shiver when his voice drops, dripping with determination. "we've got all week to make up for all that lost time."

: ̗̀➛ GETO SUGURU

I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO SAY IT. you could've been the greatest.

you've tried your best to keep geto satisfied for the longest time, to let him get his rest, but you can't fight how alone you've felt anymore.

"you'll go," the words are exhausting and holds the weight of a future you can never have. a future where he doesn't go, a future where you don't have to settle for staying. "and i'll stay."

you've watched him come and go for years, sometimes with a smile on your face, most times with tears in your eyes. this time, you're struck with the realization that you just feel nothing. none of the flightless uncertainty, none of the promises that you tell yourself that he'll find his way back. it's terrifying.

"i think we have to end it, sugu."

there was no prelude, no warning signs. geto had stopped by the night that he came back, soft and boneless and aching for your touch and your comfort. the realization hit you in the middle of such a routine and familiar night, geto sprawled across your bed in the most peaceful state you've seen him for so long as you got ready for bed. it kills you to have to shatter that, but you think it'll shatter you if you keep holding back. "don't know how much more i can take of this."

geto sighs. he would be stupid to not see this was coming.

every time he said goodbye only got harder and harder and harder, and he could see the way you dimmed every time he pulled away.

but he was selfish, so selfish, and willed himself to ignore it and hold on for a little bit longer. to chase that high of getting to know you, getting to feel your touch on his skin, spend nights draped across each other and whispering sweet nothings.

he nods. "i understand."

when you join him underneath the covers and he leans into your touch, hot and full of want for things he can't have, you let him take the clothes off your back, let him drift lower and lower until he presses sweet kisses to your thighs.

your breath stutters, and he wants to consume you. wants to remember how you taste, how you whine and plead for more, the way you used to look at him with reverence. he seals his lips around your clit and sucks like he wants to make a home out of you, hand reaching up to cup a hand around your breast and graze your nipple.

tightening your thighs around his head deprives him of his oxygen, makes him forget what's going to come next.

you come on his tongue, heart hollow and echoing.

he could've been the greatest.

"i'll come back," there was something solemn in his voice, a grief that overcomes him in waves. he pushes a loose strand of hair away from your face and knows. "and you'll come with me."

: ̗̀➛ NANAMI KENTO

OPEN UP THE DOOR, CAN YOU OPEN UP THE DOOR? i know you said before you can't cope with any more.

it's been a year since you broke up with nanami. you don't know what to say, so you let your actions speak for you.

you're not sure why you called. it came so easily, like muscle memory, typing his number into your phone and calling a number you haven't dialed in a long time. it rings once before he's picking up, voice laced with worry and confusion and the sound of your name on his lips sounds like everything you've missed in the past year. "what's wrong?"

"kento, come home. i miss you," your breaths are coming out in shallow waves, anxious and jittery as you await his response on the other side of the call. "i know i said before that i can't cope anymore, but i want to try, really try this time."

"i'll be there soon. stay... stay right where you are."

it takes him all of seven to come knocking at your door, chest panting and leaning against the doorway in a daze, like he's still in disbelief that you've allowed him back. "is this... is this real?"

he's had dreams about this exact moment, plagued with the thoughts of how it ended the last time, how you'd broken down in his arms in defeat⸺he's had time to think through every possible scenario, every way that he could prove to you that he would change, he would make you a priority, spend the rest of his days making it up to you.

"i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you⸺" nanami, normally so composed and careful with his words, can't help that all his emotions, all the love he's held safe for you in his chest, tumbles out like a flash flood. all you can do is nod helplessly,

when you cum, it's with a gasp, back arching off the bed as he maneuvers your body with an easy familiarity that can only be acquired through years of experience, years of knowing your body inside and out.

he's not too far behind, getting closer and closer the more he looks at your wrecked and fucked-out expression. he laces a hand through yours, intertwined.

"never gonna let you go again," his thrusts are getting more impulsive, thoughts going hazy when he thinks of you, swollen with his baby with the happiest expression on your face. "i think it's time we start a family."

: ̗̀➛ GOJO SATORU

I TRY TO LIVE IN BLACK AND WHITE, BUT I'M SO BLUE! i'd like to mean it when i say i'm over you.

your ex-boyfriend gojo just can't bring himself to get over you.

in a lot of ways, being with gojo was like staring into the sun. on your first date, he had taken you on a picnic overlooking the shakujii river to go see the cherry blossoms. your head was on his lap and he had gently titled your head back, chuckling as you closed your eyes as per his instructions. "just close for a moment," you hummed, but the sensation of warm sunlight was overtaken by the feeling of being cradled in his hands. "open your eyes."

for a moment, all you could see was light, vibrant blue. eyes adjusting to the sun, until bright sapphire eyes came into focus. it was the happiest you had seen him for a while. "did you feel it?"

at the time, you didn't understand what he wanted you to see, didn't know what it was that he wanted you to search for.

did you feel it?

this time, the roles are reversed. you're cradling his head in your hands as he's fallen to his knees in front of you, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay as he presses his head into your abdomen, shoulders shaking with the intensity of his emotions, holding onto you like a lifeline. "satoru, i don't know if i can keep doing this anymore."

"no, you don't mean that."

"we can't keep doing this," you weren't a fool. you know he hasn't been doing well, can see it in the dark circles that have temporarily made a home under his eyes, the cursed energy that radiates off of him in waves. "you can't just keep coming back, sa⸺gojo. you have to move on."

when he rises, he places his head onto your shoulder, and for a moment, the rush of familiarity overpowers you. "satoru. just say my name please, that's all i'll ask for."

"satoru⸺"

he's pressing warm, soft kisses against your neck, nuzzling and inhaling the scent of your hair. his hands are exploring the length of your back, fingertips slowly dragging across your skin. when he pulls back to look at you, sapphire eyes shimmering with unshed tears, you find yourself spiraling again.

it's so much easier to forget that it's over, really over, when he's fucking into you like it's the last time. it's in the slow drag of his dick as he takes his time to soak it all in, the sensuous pace that he knows drives you crazy. you're not sure where you end and where he begins, hands holding onto your waist like a lifeline as he snaps his hips. it sends tremors down your spine and you see stars behind your eyes.

satoru cups your cheek, and it's like burning alive, like a fever you can't shake. "that's it, sweetheart, fall apart for me."

when you pull the blanket over him later, under the soft glow of the moonlight, you think you realize what he meant all those years back.

he's all you could see.

© ROSESAINTS ! — do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[sketchguk]

part time lover; jjk

➳ pairing: investigative journalist!jeongguk x daycare teacher!reader. alternatively, spy!jeongguk x assassin!reader

➳ genre: smut, fluff, angst, fake marriage au, dad au, spy x family au

➵ word count: 30.8k

➳ summary: there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jeongguk. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jeongguk desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school.

only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time. 

➳ warnings: themes of parenthood, raising a child, reader and jk are both orphans, reader has a past where she struggled with financially supporting her family, eldest daughter trauma, reader is insecure, fears of abandonment, mentions of violence and m*rder (but not explicit), mention of weapons (guns, knives, grenades, poison),  jk has a bruise from boxing, descriptions of an explosion, blood is drawn twice (via kitchen knife and shrapnel from aforementioned explosion), (1) mention of weight loss, jk changes his appearance in an attempt to fit in, mention of a minor car crash, social drinking, scars (surgical/knife, bullet wounds), characters are liars for the sake of the plot, side characters are misogynists (satire), food descriptions, pet names (hers: angel, good girl, princess his: love). 

➳ a/n: thank you for being so patient with me as i toiled through this fic. it wasn't an easy one! but i do think it's special because of how healing the journey was for me <3 please enjoy, let me know what you think. don't forget to check out the other fics from the "industry baby" collab hosted by the ever so lovely @jeonjcngkook and @mercurygguk !

➳ smut warnings: virgin reader, sexual tension, body worship, nipple play, marking, oral (f receiving), fingering, hair pulling, unprotected sex, jk has a big dick, praising, stomach bulge, spitting, use of the word slut, marriage kink(?) he loves his wife so much, reader wants to be bred, cumshot

Jeongguk, 26 Investigative journalist at Golden News Network Less than a mile away To whom it may concern, I am a single father looking for a wife (DM me for serious inquiries only). 

“Your profile is dog shit,” Seokjin deadpans. The cringe settles into the downward turn of his lips as he swipes through his best friend’s Tinder account. “You’d be bitchless if you weren’t hot.” 

“Jin, watch your mouth.” Jeongguk shoots a deadly glare toward the older man. “There are children around.” 

From the kitchen, Jeongguk cranes his neck to take a peek into the messy living room where his adopted daughter sits, criss-crossed, in front of the television. Minji is too distracted by her weekly cartoon updates to even notice the crude language. 

“Minny, don’t sit too close to the TV,” he sends his daughter a stern yet gentle reminder. “Your eyeballs are gonna fall out of your head if you do.” 

A frown etches itself onto Minji’s face as she scooches back on her knees. 

Jeongguk returns his attention to the dinner he’s preparing tonight. A pot of homemade tomato sauce simmers on the stovetop. 

In the back of his mind, he wonders if his dating profile is as terribly unappealing as Seokjin says it is. Otherwise he wouldn’t have so many notifications, right? ー Messages from girls, asking if he could be their daddy too. Jeongguk’s bio is short and straight to the point. He’s not that ugly, or so he thinks. Being a journalist is a respectable occupation with steady income. So what could be so bad about it? 

Is it the fact that Jeongguk isn’t even his real name ー nothing but a fake persona to help him with his investigation? Maybe it’s because his adopted daughter doesn’t have a striking resemblance to him, and his pictures look like a shady scam. 

But there’s no way that they can see through Jeongguk’s facade. After all, he’s the best spy in the agency. His specialty is deceit. It’s foolproof. There’s no reason not to believe him. 

“I think they’re really into the whole dad thing,” Jeongguk nods, focusing on the sliced onions in front of him. The smell of garlic and fresh herbs permeate through the air.

“Really?” Seokjin says in feigned disbelief. He leans back against the couch, making himself comfortable. “It’s not because of the video where you’re deepthroating a deep dish pizza? Just for that, I would have gotten on my hands and knees to suck your di-.” 

“Can you seriously watch your language?” Jeongguk cuts him off before pointing a knife in his direction. 

Kim Seokjin may be his closest colleague, but that’s exactly where he draws the line. Seokjin is nothing more than Jeongguk’s informant. His job is to get the latest intel on all of his targets, and that’s it. He’s not here to fool around or make friends.

“We took that video in Chicago. Doesn’t it show that I’m well traveled?” Jeongguk asks with genuine curiosity. He remembers reading an article about how women love that sort of stuff. 

Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s gonna be a long, long night,” he mutters to himself. His best friend is beyond the point of fixing, but at least he makes a good househusband. 

Jeongguk wipes his hands against his frilly apron before dipping a wooden spoon into the pot. He inches the tomato sauce closer to his pursed lips as he blows on the piping hot confection. It could use more parsley. 

Just when Jeongguk thought he could distract himself with cooking, he suddenly remembers the pressing problem that occupies all of his brain space: he is in desperate need of a wife. The constant reminder is taped to the front of the fridge 一 a letter from Minji’s prospective elementary school. 

Dear Jeon family,  Congratulations! Your child’s preliminary results indicate that he/she has passed the entrance exam at Hwa Yang Academy. Our institution carries a prestigious reputation, accepting only the nation’s brightest students. Due to your child’s outstanding academic score, we invite you to the second phase of admissions where a family interview will be conducted. Please have both parents and child present at Yeon Hwa Hall on the first of May, promptly at 10am.  It is our good fortune that you chose to apply to Hwa Yang Academy. We look forward to welcoming you and your family to our renowned institution.  Sincerely,  Department of Admissions at Hwa Yang Academy

The fact that Minji received an interview at the top school in the nation is amazing beyond belief. Everything is going according to plan. The only problem is that Jeon Jeongguk is, in fact, bitchless. 

“Remind me again, why do you need to get Minji into that school?” Seokjin furrows his brows. He’s never seen his best friend this stressed. The way that Jeongguk is willing to jump through hoops makes him feel as if he’s never wanted anything so bad in his life. 

Jeongguk clenches the wooden spoon in his hand, threatening to give himself a splinter. “I have to get access to Hwa Yang,” he says, like it’s do or die. “There are families with infinite amounts of political power there, including the prime minister. The big boss suspects that they’re planning a rebellion, and I need to get close to them to expose their secrets. Obviously I can’t even touch the elite without pretending to be one myself. So I need this family to be as perfect as it can be.” 

“You think you can prevent a whole rebellion and save the country if you go to a few parent association meetings? Bake a batch of cookies like a soccer mom?” Seokjin’s questions are sarcastic, but he’s not wrong. He needs to infiltrate the prime minister’s inner circle, befriend him, and uncover his government secrets. But doing so would be impossible without first securing a wife and earning acceptance into the school. 

“If it comes down to making a paper mache volcano, I’ll do it.” The determination in Jeongguk’s eyes is unwavering. 

“You really expect to get through the admission interview with a fake wife? I can’t even get a single date, but you think you can get married by the end of the month?” Seokjin laughs at the expense of his own heartache. 

“Maybe the mommies would like you more if you weren’t so de-looshe-in-ull,” Minji chimes. 

Has she been listening all along?

“Delusional?” Seokjin scoffs, fueled with exasperation. Lately, he’s had thoughts about being a kinder person, yet a part of him still believes that he deserves the last word in every conversation. “Where did you learn about that?” he queries, balling up his hands. 

“Appa,” Minji replies, pointing at the man in question. 

Seokjin winds his fist back as if he’s throwing a punch across the room, but he listens to the screaming voice in the back of his head. The one that tells him he’s much too pretty to get pummeled today ー that his face would look better if Jeongguk’s fist wasn’t imprinted on the surface of it. So instead of starting a fight with a five year old girl, Seokjin folds his knees against his chest, cursing under his breath. Maybe he can be the bigger person. 

“So why can’t the agency send another spy operative to play house with you?” Seokjin asks, resorting to a life of civility under Jeongguk’s roof. He forces a smile through gritted teeth and returns his attention to the dating app in the palm of his hands, half-listening to his best friend. 

“Well, a bunch of police officers arrested our agents. There’s only a few people left on the team. Haven’t you seen the news? The government is cracking down on espionage.” Jeongguk rolls his eyes, clenching his jaw. “They use women as their scapegoat, filling up some stupid quota for incarceration.” How can men be so ignorant and simple minded?  

Ironically, Seokjin flashes his phone in front of Jeongguk’s face. “Swipe left or right, what do you think?” Yep, the minds of men are pretty simple, and Seokjin definitely didn’t hear a single word that came out of Jeongguk’s mouth. 

Y/N Daycare teacher at children’s municipal library 1 mile away Critics review: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ “Loves her emotional support characters, and will only ever love her emotional support characters”  “Can’t cook to save her life, but she can top off your ramen with a fried egg”  “Pros: loving and down to earth, great with kids. Cons: doesn’t know her own strength, hates mushrooms, has a quirky laugh” 

“You know what? I’ll swipe right. You’ll get more matches if you do,” Seokjin suggests with a determined nod. 

Jeongguk stares at his informant in disbelief, jaw slack. There’s no way this stupid app is going to land him a wife by the end of the month. 

“What do you think about this guy?” 

“Hard pass. I mean, look at his photos. His whole personality is about working out.” 

“Okay, then what about this one?” 

“Nah, he looks too stuck-up. I don’t think he can take a joke.” 

“How about her? She’s pretty, right?” 

“She doesn’t even have a bio! What if she’s a catfish?” 

From the way your coworkers appraise these people, they act as if they’re the ones looking for a partner. Because as a matter of fact, it’s your phone in their hand, swiping away on your dating app. 

It doesn’t matter if there are library books that need to be stowed away or paperwork to be filed. They pay no mind to the clock indicating that there’s 30 minutes left in the work day because finding you a significant other seems to be their only priority. 

“Sujin, stop being so picky. At this rate, y/n isn’t going to get a date if you swipe left on everyone,” Yumi whines. 

“Why did you make a profile for me anyways? I don’t need to be in a relationship.” The sound of your widely unpopular opinion makes the two girls look up with big, round eyes. 

“Aren’t you ever lonely?” There’s a hint of pity that lingers in Yumi’s voice. 

You find it quite offensive that she would think that. As much as you’d like to keep your job, you would also like to rip the rug out from beneath Yumi’s feet until she falls flat on her face. But the reality is, you really need this job. So all you do is shake your head and grit your teeth. “No, not really.” 

“Life is soo much more romantic when you have someone to love.” Sujin’s unblinking eyes make you wonder if she’s being held hostage against her will. Is her boyfriend tapping into her phone, listening to all of her conversations? 

“y/n, you’ve never been in a relationship before. Do you ever feel like you’re missing out on something?” There’s a pout that rests on Yumi’s lips. Her tone leaks with faux sympathy. “Hobi just got married, and Nari’s having a baby. We’re all grown up, and I don’t want you to feel left out, especially at my engagement party next weekend. It might bring out some… bitter feelings.” 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, reminding yourself that you should definitely not push Yumi down the stairs at the end of your shift. “I think I’ll be content on my own.” 

“Here, look through the app for a little while. Maybe you’ll find someone that you like. Just give it a chance, okay?” Sujin hands the phone back to you. “You should really think about it. San tells me he’s been worried about you.”

Your expression falls upon hearing your younger brother’s name. Of all people, San should know that you value nothing more than your independence. 

“He just wants you to be happy ー for someone to take care of you.” 

Some part of you believes that Sujin is projecting her opinions and throwing your brother under the bus. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” you assure her. “I can be happy on my own.” 

Nowadays, many people come to believe that a wedding ring is the solution to everyone’s misfortune. Supposedly, it’ll keep you safe from all things cruel in this world. They don’t seem to realize that there are problems that run much deeper than being single. It’s as if something must be inherently wrong with you if you’ve never had a partner, let alone a first kiss. 

You have to admit that sometimes, their words can hurt like knives. It’s damaging to your self-esteem if you really think about it. Because surely, everyone wants to be loved and to be desired ー to be chosen. How nice would it be to lie in bed, held and comforted by something other than the warmth of your own body?

If you were to have a relationship, perhaps you could go to bookstores together and read for hours on end. The two of you could laugh and sing at the top of your lungs, dancing like fools in the dim light of the bathroom with toothbrushes tucked between molars. You could listen to ballads on the radio and finally resonate with the lyrics, plastering a goofy, lovestruck smile on your face. If you were in love, you could share childhood memories, and even the mundane details would be tucked away for safekeeping. You’d know one another's biggest fears and greatest vulnerabilities. Even when you reveal the ugliest parts of yourself, they would choose you over and over again. 

If there was just one person to run their fingers across all of your curves, your dips, your scars, only to tell you that you are still the object of their affection, then perhaps you would give love a chance.

But having thought about love your entire life, and never yet to experience it, you’re certain that you’re better off on your own. Ever since you were a little kid, it’s always been you, yourself, and your grief. You’ve harbored yourself in your own bones for decades, so who knows you better than you know yourself ー truly and completely unfiltered? With your mind and wit so sharp, who will find you lovable when they discover there’s a blade where your heart is? 

If you were to find a partner, there is simply no way that you can continue the life that you have. You could never return to them at the end of the night, bloodied and bruised, with no questions asked. Surely, it’s not an easy pill to swallow when you tell them that you're an assassin. There’s no sugar coating that. 

Much like being a daycare teacher, being an assassin is just another job. You started living this secret identity because it earned enough money to take care of your younger brother after your parents had passed away. It put food on the table and cash toward your bills. Money would roll into your bank account by the thousands. At 18 years old, that type of money was unfathomable. But now that San is old enough to take care of himself, there’s really no need to continue this lifestyle. 

Yet you pursue the chase because there’s a certain thrill that comes from seeking justice and vigilance. These monsters no longer hide beneath your brother’s bed. Instead, they lurk between the shadows ー among the alleyways and abandoned parts of town. They prey on those who are weak and exploit them for all that they are. 

If the law enforcement team is never going to uphold their end of the social contract, you have to be the one to act first and eliminate them. So with every job completed, you can be certain that the world is safer one hit at a time. 

But to continue being an assassin, you have to keep this secret under wraps. You’ll be forced to hide under a life of normalcy, as nothing more than a naive and innocent daycare teacher at the local library ー a background character in the story of others. In all honesty, you prefer to keep your secrets tucked away. Because to be loved is to be known, and you simply cannot let that happen. 

Some people aren’t made for romance, and maybe you’re one of them. Nobody shall ever hold your heart in their hands without pricking their own flesh. 

Despite all that is said and done, some part of you thinks that there’s no harm in checking out the unpromising dating app. Curiosity gets the best of you as you mindlessly swipe through all of the profiles. However, everyone you’ve come across is either too shallow, too arrogant, or too boring. 

A defeated sigh slips past your lips until you come across a certain profile. You look closer at the photos, inspecting each one with great care. There are only so many pictures: one of him and his dog, a second one of him shoving a Chicago deep dish down his throat, and another with a young child. Tattoos litter across his sun-kissed skin, and piercings scatter his handsome face ー beautiful in the most unorthodox ways.

His bio reads: “To whom it may concern, I am a single father looking for a wife (DM me for serious inquiries only).” 

Have you seen this man before? Could it be… him? 

The longer that you stare at his profile, the more concerned you become. At this rate, you’ve created an entire fantasy about a relationship with this stranger, and now you’re planning the dinner menu for your wedding. But there’s no way that you’d actually consider swiping right and messaging him, right? You don’t even want a boyfriend! This man could be joking for all you know. 

When the clock strikes the hour, a chime resounds through the air. You shake your head, finally coming to your senses. You slip your device into your pocket, forgetting about the man who lives in your phone. 

Jeongguk. His name is Jeongguk. 

“Appaaa!” There’s a piercing cry that slices through the air as the little girl begs for her father’s affection. From behind the bookshelves, the curious librarian pokes her head between the gaps to catch a glimpse of the commotion. 

“Don’t let go, please, please, pleeease!” The young child slips her tiny hand into her father’s, shaking it back and forth with a sense of urgency. 

Jeongguk stands frozen in place. The apples of his cheeks darken into a rosy hue. It’s a little embarrassing to be that parent ー the one who can’t control his child’s outbursts in the middle of a public space, let alone a library, an academic sanctuary that promises peace and quiet. 

With a heavy, exhausted sigh, Jeongguk crouches down to meet his daughter’s innocent expression. “Minny, I promise you, I’m not going anywhere. I ask that you give me ten minutes, okay?” His voice is firm and assertive. It’s a little rough around the edges, but it can’t be helped. He speaks in a way that commands attention from the room. This is the only way he knows how to demand respect from his subordinates. 

“I just need to pick up a few things. We can go home afterwards, so be a good girl until then,” Jeongguk bargains. “You can go to the playroom, and the nice librarian will take care of you.” 

Minji squeezes her tiny hands into fists, and she dies on the inside. Tears form in the corner of her eyes. Even the slightest change in her father’s tone makes her believe that she’s done something wrong. Her worst nightmare flashes before her eyes. 

Would her father abandon if she were to misbehave? Or worse, would he dare to return her to the orphanage she was adopted from? What if her biggest fear comes to fruition? After all, it’s not uncommon for parents to realize far too late that kids are too difficult to handle. Then, they’re left hoping and praying for some kind of return policy for their own flesh and blood. 

Minji’s eyes become glossy at the thought of it, unlocking a hidden memory from the past, but she refuses to let herself falter underneath his piercing stare. Yet no matter how hard she tries to keep the tears at bay, her emotions get the best of her, and her resolve crumbles into smithereens. After all, she’s only five years old. 

It appears that the authoritative approach only works in the combat room, but perhaps not with a five year old girl. So Jeongguk lowers his defenses and drops to his knees. He wipes the tears away with the pad of his thumb, and she sniffles even harder when he comforts her. 

There’s something about the little girl’s demeanor that reminds Jeongguk of himself when he was younger. Perhaps it’s the need for her father’s approval ー the desire to please and put others above herself. Maybe it’s her tenacity for standing tall and strong despite the dull ache in her tender heart. 

“You can let it all out,” he reaffirms. A beat of silence passes by while he caresses her cheek, allowing the tears to fall. “You ’kay now?” 

Minji reluctantly agrees with the slow nod of her head, but she avoids her father’s strong gaze, staring down at her shoes, sullen. When the warmth of her father’s hand disappears, another sniffle racks through her body. 

Normally, Minji is never one to throw a tantrum, but what does Jeongguk know? Just when he thought he had a hang of the whole “parenting” thing, he’s thrown into a loop. In spite of Jeongguk’s confident demeanor, he genuinely doesn’t know the first thing about raising a child, let alone a daughter. 

In his past ten years of being an undercover spy, he has diffused nuclear bombs and hacked into government files, but nothing has ever prepared him for being a single parent. Yet as a man and a father, he needs to do better. He needs to be better. The least he can do is try.

Jeongguk raises a hand between their bodies, extending his pinky for her to interlock, pledging his vow. “I’ll be back for you in ten minutes, I swear.” He reassures his daughter before planting a kiss on the crown of her head. He crosses his fingers, silently praying that she won’t cry again. 

A dribble of snot falls from Minji’s nose. Her eyelashes are soaked. A dramatic hiccup heaves through her tiny, five-year old body. 

Jeongguk can feel the venomous judgment of everyone around him. They must think that he’s utterly unfit to be a father, and they would be right. 

They would wonder: What kind of child causes a scene in public, screaming, crying, and begging her father not to abandon her? How can he send her to the playroom where there’s nothing but disgusting germs and snotty kids? Is he seriously going to hand off his responsibilities to a total stranger in an underfunded public institution? 

They can easily write Jeongguk off as a villain ー a big, scary man with piercings and tattoos. They could hurl accusations at him with no regard as to where they land. All it takes is a quick glance and a first impression (a false one at that). Obviously, they would think he’s someone who’s not built for child rearing because of the slits in his eyebrows and the gel in his hair. There must not be a gentle bone that resides in his big, burly body, but for that, they would be wrong.

The worst part about this whole “father” situation is not necessarily the judgment of others. He is familiar with scrutiny, and he knows it all too well. Rather, it’s that Jeongguk was never particularly fond of having children of his own. Some people are not cut out for fatherhood, and that’s simply the truth of the matter. But that doesn’t mean he won't do his best. He can’t let Minji down. He won’t. 

As if Minji could read his thoughts, she raises her arms, begging to be picked up. Her sniffles have long died down. 

Jeongguk takes a deep breath before caving into her wishes and hooking an arm around her knees. Minji’s grimy, little hands cling around his neck, and an inaudible, celebratory noise escapes from her lips. 

Minji nuzzles her head beneath her father’s chin. She chatters about the incomprehensible things that only five year olds would understand. She is an enigma beyond her father’s own understanding, but he is determined to learn the ins and outs of this child no matter what it takes, even if it kills him. 

After Jeongguk had finally dropped Minji off at the library’s playroom, he peruses the non-fiction shelves in search of answers. 

How the hell is he going to raise a child? 

He thumbs through all of the top-rated parenting books available, skimming through the blurbs, trying to absorb enough information to pass judgment on them. Because if he’s going to follow parenting advice from someone else, they better be successful in their trials. Jeongguk doesn’t want to be the one to fuck up his own child’s brain chemistry.

There’s a sudden tap on his shoulder that helps Jeongguk to escape from the existential dread of fatherhood.

“Excuse me, sir.” A soft voice sounds from behind him. Your breath catches onto the nape of his neck.  

“How did this woman sneak up on me without me noticing? Maybe I’m losing my touch.” Jeongguk wonders, shocked by his carelessness. Because from behind, he didn’t hear the fall of a single footstep. The air was still and undisturbed until he felt your presence a moment too late. Normally, he would have surveilled everyone within a mile radius before they could even think about approaching him. But you managed to do it so effortlessly. He’s never met a woman so stealthy. 

“I think this belongs to you.” Your voice interrupts his stream of consciousness. 

The man before you turns around, and surely, he is a sight for sore eyes 一 a little intimidating to say the least. There’s a silver ring that protrudes from his bottom lip, contrasting against the subtle pink. Even more metal resides against the surface of his skin, a piercing on either side of his eyebrow. There’s a scar that sits on his cheekbone, and you can’t help but wonder how it got there. 

You’ve only ever admired this stranger from afar. Most days, he never fails to browse the children’s manhwa section with a talkative child latched onto his leg. Up close, he looks like a tough guy, but the moment he sees his adorable daughter clinging onto your dress, the hard look in his eyes softens. A dimple carves itself into the curve of his cheek. 

“Who do we have here?” His typical inflection changes into something slightly more playful. But he uses it to mask his exhausted state.

“Appa, appa! Miss y/l/n is so pretty, don’t you think?” Minji says enthusiastically. 

A flame ignites beneath the surface of Jeongguk’s skin. He grows flustered under the little girl’s stare.

Your eyes widen. You’ve never been considered “pretty” by conventional standards. It’s not often that you hear those words, if ever, really. 

“Minji, everyone has their own opinions, but you shouldn’t push your beliefs onto someone else,” you begin as a form of damage control. “I’m so sorry, but she ran up to me, saying she lost her father. She seemed so distressed, and I thought she was going to burst into tears if she couldn’t find you.” 

Jeon Jeongguk has never known peace before. Minji is just as sneaky and conniving as her father; she’s a filthy liar just like him. 

“No, no, it’s okay, don’t apologize. Her attachment issues have grown by the day,” Jeongguk replies, shaking his head. He wears a bashful smile, cheeks tinged with pink. “Minny, do you remember what I taught you?” He crouches down to pick his daughter up by the waist, squeezing her sides. 

“Don’t sleep with wet hair otherwise I might get hippo-pot-a-therm-ia?” Minji recalls, butchering the pronunciation. 

Jeongguk bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head. “No, the other thing.” 

“Minny doesn’t have to eat anything that she doesn’t want to?” 

“I never said that.” A look of disapproval crosses her father’s features. 

“Drawing mustaches on sleepy people is wrong unless it’s Seokjin samchon?” 

He scrunches his nose, nodding his head from side to side as though he’s contemplating. “Well… yes, but no. Try again. The thing about beauty.” 

“Oh! Beauty is something that comes from the inside!” Minji’s eyes light up upon recognition.

“Exactly, it comes from inside.” Jeongguk reminds her. He presses his pointer finger against Minji’s sternum for emphasis. Upon his touch, a sweet giggle falls from her lips. 

“But you do think it’s true, don’t you?” Minji asks once again, persistent. “Miss y/l/n is really pretty.” 

The blush on his cheeks grow a shade darker. “Minny, of course I think she’s pretty. I thought we talked about this.” Although he lowers his voice like it’s a secret, you can still hear every single word. 

Minji giggles to herself, hiding her face behind her hands. 

Jeongguk has always known your face, but never your name. “Miss y/l/n, right?” 

It sounds odd to hear your title from a grown man, but you laugh it off with a chuckle. “Yeah, that’s what the kids at the daycare call me. It’s just y/n though.” 

Jeongguk readjusts his daughter in his arms before reaching for a handshake. “I’m just Jeongguk.” It doesn’t strike how little his name means to him. Of course it’s just an alias for the sake of the mission. He picked it on a whim, but it suits him more than he had thought. Jeon Jeongguk, pillar of the nation. The lie tumbles out of his lips so naturally, and he doesn't have to think twice. 

His eyes lower into crescent moons as the corner of his lips curve into a smile, something akin to fondness. A shallow dimple finds its way onto his cheeks. 

Dammit. He’s cute. 

You reach forward, cupping your hand around his in a reverent greeting. He holds you gently as if there’s a butterfly that had landed on the tip of his fingers. It contrasts against your strong grip. 

Observant as ever, Jeongguk notices that there’s no sign of a ring on your hand. He digs through the arsenal of intel that’s locked up inside his brain. Thanks to Seokjin’s sticky fingers, he managed to spend an entire weekend studying the most recent census information, getting to know the profiles of everyone in the city (just in case). There has to be some information about you stored in his head. 

“y/n… Where did I see that name before?” He thinks to himself, mentally sifting through all the files he’s read. “Ah, I remember now. File #901: y/l/n, y/n. Never married, never divorced. Orphaned at the age of eighteen. She has one younger brother. Both of them have clean records ー never been in trouble with the police, never even received a speeding ticket.”

“Jeongguk…” you murmur his name as if you’re testing the waters. “I know. I’ve seen you around before.” 

Minji might have accidentally let it slip that he’s the man who's been her appa ‘for a very long time.’ She never seemed to mention that she’s adopted. Instead, she continues to describe her father as someone super handsome and very single. 

“Really?” Although he’s noticed you plenty of times before, he’s surprised that you recognize him. Jeongguk doesn’t like drawing attention. He supposes that lately, it’s been difficult when his daughter attracts a lot of eyes. 

“Most of the time, you wander through the aisles, half-dead like a zombie, with a cup of coffee in your hand.” You lean forward, speaking in a hushed tone. “You really aren’t allowed to bring drinks into the library, but my coworkers let it slide because they think you’re handsome.” 

Perhaps you’ve overshared because Jeongguk stares at you blankly, taken aback by the news. 

“Here’s another secret.” You beckon him closer once again, speaking barely above a whisper. “You should be careful about reading parenting books. You’ll end up stressed about what to do if it doesn’t work, and you’ll feel like a failure by the end of it.”

His eyes widen in surprise. He had hoped that the parenting books would put an end to his sleepless nights. “What do you think I should do then? I don’t know how to deal with this monster right here.” He ruffles Minji’s hair in endearment. 

“Hey!” Minji shouts in defense of herself.

“That’s not to say you shouldn’t read any parenting books. It’s just trial and error,” you shrug. “As much as you don’t want to hear it, there’s really no right answer.”

Jeongguk drops his shoulders, slightly disappointed. The defeated look on his face is a feeling you can sympathize with. 

“But if it helps, I think it’s important that children need a little bit of softness every now and then, especially because the world is so cruel.” You flash him a gentle smile, urging him to lighten up on his daughter. He needs to stop pretending that raising a child is anything like the military or the spy academy. 

Upon hearing your conversation, there’s a mischievous sparkle that appears in Minji’s eyes. “Miss y/l/n, do you wanna be my eomma?” 

You stare blankly at her, blinking as though you are processing her question. The words die on your tongue, yet you cock your head to the side, meeting the little girl’s gaze. “Y- your eomma?” you reiterate, startled. 

“Pleaseee? I’m so lonely with no eomma,” Minji pouts, melodramatic as ever. She puts her hand on her forehead as if she’s feigning an illness. 

“Jeongguk, do you happen to be looking for a wife?” 

“Is this your way of asking me out?” He leans forward, inclined to hear your proposal. 

You wonder if this is a bad time to mention his Tinder profile. It could be a little awkward knowing that you’ve also made an account on that wretched app. There’s nothing inherently embarrassing about wanting to find love through modern dating, but why is it so hard to admit it?

You weigh your options in your head, but Jeongguk beats you to it. 

“Because if you did 一 ya’ know 一 ask me out, I would have said-” His words are cut short. 

“You know what? I’m sorry if I was being too forward-” Mentally, you want to smack yourself on the head.

Jeongguk didn’t mention anything about a girlfriend, let alone a wife. He has no idea that you’ve seen his Tinder before. You never even swiped. You never matched. 

After you found his profile, you tucked your phone away and refused to open the app again. The blissful state of not knowing is better than playing the waiting game. Will he swipe, will he not? Will he message you and jumpstart some epic romance? 

You decide to tell him the truth and swallow your pride before coming across as a complete weirdo wrapped up in her delusions. 

“It’s just that… the other day, my friends made a dating profile for me because they’re worried I’ll be single for the rest of my life. I came across your account, and I thought you looked familiar. So I just wanted to know if you’re actually looking for a wife because I swear, I’ll do it.” 

Jeongguk has never been this close to making a breakthrough, and he thinks he’s half in love with you. “Are you being serious?” he wonders as a precaution. “Don’t lie to me because I really need this to be a dream come true right now.” 

His daughter reaches forward to pinch his cheeks. Jeongguk winces at the pain, and he’s certain that this moment is real. 

“Do you want me to get down on one knee?” Your face is devoid of any banter, eyes fixed on Jeongguk as if you’re genuinely offering yourself to him. “Why do you need a wife? Tax money? Green card? Ex who won’t leave you alone?” 

“It’s complicated,” Jeongguk begins. 

“Trust me, I know it's complicated when I see it.” There’s a challenging look in your eyes, urging him to continue. 

“Well, the other day, Minny passed the entrance exam for Hwa Yang Academy. Now, the  board has to conduct an interview with the family, but they said they would want both parents to be there.” 

“You can’t tell them that you’re a single father?” 

“I think it’ll hurt her chances of getting accepted,” he explains. “I want my daughter to attend a good school. Her late mother would have wanted the same thing for her.” 

“Appa said lying is wrong, but he’s so good at it,” Minji thinks to herself. 

“Do you really think that I’m fit for the role?” You’ve never really had a penchant for acting or playing pretend. Lying, on the other hand, that is your strong suit. 

“I don’t mean to be too forward, but I think you’re perfect.” Jeongguk speaks his truth without any hesitation. He looks at you with such sweet and delicate eyes. “You seem to be great with children, and Minny adores you already.” 

You eye him as if you’re considering his offer, but you’ve already made up your mind. “I’ll do it, but only if you do a favor for me too. Are you free next weekend?” 

“Next weekend?” Jeongguk raises an eyebrow. It’s starting to make sense why you agreed to do this in the first place. You need something in exchange, quid pro quo. 

“My friends are throwing an engagement party. They’re worried about me all the time because I’m single, but I thought I would lay it to rest if I told them I finally had a boyfriend, or at least someone I’m talking to.” Your speech gets faster and faster with every word that comes out of your mouth. “I know it sounds crazy, Iー” 

“I’ll do it.”

You stare blankly at him, unsure if you heard correctly, but a smile continues to creep onto the corners of your lips. “You will?” 

Jeongguk reaches forward, gently taking your hand in his. “It would be an honor to be your boyfriend,” he says, even if it’s just pretend. “And an even bigger honor to be your husband.” 

“y/n!” 

You don’t hear your name being called relentlessly until your co-workers are shouting for your attention. Their words fall upon deaf ears. 

As usual, they had been gossiping about their boyfriends and their weekend plans. You checked out of the conversation the moment Yumi opened her mouth and uttered her fiancé’s name, resisting the urge to gag. 

You look up from your lap, slightly too distracted. There’s a small, maroon stain and a rip in the skirt of your dress. It’s not easy keeping your clothes in pristine condition when you’re constantly running toward danger. You’re lost in thought, wondering how much the tailor shop will charge you for sewing it back together. 

“What are you doing this weekend? There’s a new episode of that drama you like, right? Are you going to order delivery again?” Yumi assumes. “You know, you should step outside from time to time. Maybe you’ll find a nice person to date if Tinder doesn’t pan out.” 

“Actually, I have plans after work,” you announce before returning to inspect the damage on your dress. 

“With who? Did you meet someone on the app?” The cadence of Sujin’s voice is airy, shocked in disbelief. 

“I’m meeting up with some guy.” You try not to make it a big deal, but these girls always blow it out of proportion. “I didn’t meet him from the app though.” 

“You’re seeing someone? Who?! You can’t just drop the news and expect us not to ask for the details!” Sujin shouts. 

“He was at the library the other day, and he asked me out. He’s the one with the tattoos ー y’all would recognize him if you saw him,” you explain. “Minji is his daughter.” 

“The guy with the coffee?” Everyone collectively gasps upon connecting the dots. “Him? How did you manage to pull that?!” 

Ouch. That hurts. 

“I would dump my fiancé in a heartbeat if the coffee guy could blow my back out,” Yumi confesses. 

How could she be so shallow? She was just talking about how much she loved her fiancé. Is he really that disposable? Besides, is Jeongguk nothing more than the coffee guy? A pretty face who’s made for a one night stand? You’re starting to think that people don’t actually value their relationships. They just want a partner for the sake of having one.

There’s a sudden chime that resounds through the air, pulling you out of your thoughts. The service bell at the front desk had been struck. It’s odd considering most people exited the library by now, knowing that it closes in ten minutes. 

You all poke your head through the doorway to catch a glimpse of the patron. Their eyes widen in surprise when they see the coffee guy standing at the front desk. He stands tall and proud with a military stance, a head above everyone else. There’s a bouquet of pink camellias resting in his hand in place of his typical americano. 

“Jeongguk? I thought we were meeting at the cafe.” Perhaps you remembered the details of the conversation wrong.  

When you speak his name out loud, all the girls shift their gaze to one another. Could it really be true that you’re seeing a man? 

“I thought it would be nice if I could surprise you, and we’d walk there together.” He flashes a smile that sends an arrow straight through the heart (and through those of your coworkers). For a second, you think that Yumi might just faint. 

He’s handsome as ever, just as you recall. But today, there’s something that’s slightly out of place. There’s a bandage that rests on the bridge of his nose. It’s pink with Sanrio characters plastered all over it ー Hello Kitty and My Melody. There’s something about it that makes him even more endearing. 

You try to stifle a giggle as you shoot him an apology. “Sorry, can you hang around for a few more minutes? I have some things to do before closing.”

“Take your time, angel.” Jeongguk says. Crinkles begin to form at the corner of his eyes as the curve of his lips overtake him. 

You have to admit that the pet name made your heart flutter. He plays into the role of a sweet boyfriend pretty accurately. It’s all part of the act. 

Sujin closes the door to the office. The girls break into squeals. They playfully hit your shoulder in disbelief, elbowing your sides. “I can’t believe it! y/n is going out with a man?!” 

“And he’s hot!” 

You shake your head before returning to your work station, ignoring their cheers. But you can’t help the subtle smile that reaches your lips. Maybe the girls will finally leave you the fuck alone. 

“I’m so sorry for the wait.” You apologize as you approach Jeongguk, looking like a disheveled mess after an 8 hour shift. Your blouse is slightly wrinkled, and you’re certain there’s residue left behind from all the marker stains the kids had carelessly drawn on you. Your arm is full of stickers, and you’ll have to remember to peel them off later. 

In the daycare, Jeongguk is propped on top of a bean bag chair that is much too small for his body. There’s a manhwa that rests in his lap. It’s the one his daughter can’t stop talking about. 

“I got here ten minutes early anyways.” He places the book on the table before clambering to his feet. “Oh yeah, and these are for you.” He passes the bouquet of camellias. 

You raise your hands, not really sure how to accept the gift. You’re not the type of girl to receive flowers, love poems, or pretty things. Nobody has ever pursued you in that way. All you ever receive are cursory glances and awkward smiles, but never anything as beautiful as this. 

He inches the flowers a little closer to you, urging you to take it. 

You pull the bouquet to your nose, taking a whiff of the sweet scent. “These are really pretty. Thank you for that.” You motion for him to wait just a moment longer as you place the flowers into a vase. 

Through the porthole of the office door, you can see the girls squeal and jump around in unison. 

“Are you ready? Should we head out?” Jeongguk’s lips curl into a boyish smile. 

You nod, sharply turning your heels in an attempt to hide the fluster of your face. Before you could take a step forward, you’re pulled to a halt. There’s a tug on your arm that spins you around. Jeongguk’s fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you close. 

“Wait one sec,” his breath fans across your face. “You have some chalk on your cheek. Can I-?” He raises his hand, tentatively learning forward. 

Heat rushes to the surface of your skin, yet you nod your head, giving into his request. “Is this part of the act?” you wonder out loud, low enough for Jeongguk to hear. 

“Only if you want it to be.” His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine. 

As he leans forward to wipe the dust off your cheek, your throat dries. You freeze, attempting to avoid his gaze. You’re not certain whether you’ll explode upon gazing into his dark brown eyes. 

Instead, you keep your sight locked straight ahead. It’s a terrible idea considering his strong chest is right in front of you. The top two buttons of his white collared shirt are undone, and the space between his pecs are exposed, a necklace dangling in between. There’s a chance that you might die staring at it, so you accept the risk of embarrassing yourself and glance at his visage instead. 

“There’s my pretty girl,” Jeongguk says, dusting off the chalk. 

A wave of butterflies swarm in the pit of your stomach, and your mind goes blank. You have no idea how to respond to such a compliment, and you’re unable to when your throat constricts. Your body warms, hyper aware of his palm on your cheek and the one wrapped around your wrist. Your one free hand that is not occupied by his clasp shoots up, hovering over the bandage plastered on his nose. 

“What happened here?” The words splutter out of your mouth, trying to say something. Anything. Perhaps your anxiety would be less noticeable if you could just act natural ー If you could stop standing there without a single thought in your head. 

“Bumped into a wall,” Jeongguk chuckles. It’s a blatant lie. He could never be this clumsy. In actuality, he had failed to duck during a sparring match with another spy at the agency. Fuck Kim Mingyu and his stupidly beefy arms. “Minny picked the bandage for me.” 

“You mean you didn’t choose to wear the Hello Kitty? I think it suits you.” As soon as you graze the bridge of his nose, his laughter turns into a dramatic groan. Soft murmurs of ‘ow, ow’ fall from his lips. 

“‘m sorry, ‘m sorry!” You apologize. 

His other hand gently grasps your palm, pulling it away from his sprained injury. Maybe your dating profile was right when it mentioned you don’t know your own strength. 

“Don’t worry, let’s just hope that Minny is okay,” Jeongguk remarks. “She insisted on wearing a matching bandaid because ‘if appa’s hurt, then Minny’s hurt.’ Kind of like a voodoo doll.” 

Subconsciously, the thought of Minny wearing a matching bandage despite being perfectly fine forces your lips into a smile. 

“Should we head out now?” Jeongguk leans closer, voice barely above a whisper. “Can I hold your hand? Give your friends a real show to watch?” It’s as if your hand wasn’t already in his. 

You nod your head, suddenly remembering that this is all an act. You’re reminded of the girls crowded around the office door, peeking through the small window to catch a glimpse of the action. 

Jeongguk’s hand glides down from your palm and between your fingers, lacing them together. A breath hitches in your throat, and you have to remind yourself to breathe. You can hear the high pitched screams from behind when the girls are convinced you’ve stepped far away enough. But it isn't as loud as the sound of your heart beating out of your chest. 

The two of you make your way to the cafe, walking side by side, hand-in-hand, occasionally bumping shoulders when you walk a little too close. 

“How was your day? I realized I never asked you what you do for work, and I don’t really know much about you in general,” you chuckle, slightly embarrassed. “I thought we would at least have our first kiss by now if we were married.” There’s a hint of sarcasm in your tone, one that Jeongguk easily recognizes because his informant, Seokjin, is nothing but shits and giggles. 

“We would have done more than kissing, but we can start slow.” The corners of his lips curl into a playful grin. His words make you freeze, but it doesn’t seem to faze him. 

With your hands linked together, Jeongguk is pulled back by your halted movements. He turns to face you, displaying his pretty eye-smile. “I’m a journalist,” he says. “I write investigative articles when they don’t ask me to cover silly politics.” 

Although it’s not completely true, it’s not totally false at the same time. He writes exposé articles based on the intel he uncovers from his spy missions. The articles that he writes are written under an anonymous name, obviously so he can’t be tracked for exposing highly classified information. Nobody should ever know that he’s digging into the lives of corrupt politicians. Jeongguk might never see the light of day if word gets out. 

“My routine is pretty consistent,” he explains. “I did some research for my article, wrote a few thousand words in my drafts before deciding to scrap the entirety of it, and I picked up Minny from kindergarten. I asked my friend to babysit her while I’m away tonight.” 

Jeongguk wants to scrub his tongue after admitting that Seokjin is his “friend.” 

“What about you? How’s your life at the library?” Jeongguk asks. 

You describe the events that spiraled today as the two of you head inside the coffee shop and place your orders. “Well, the girls seemed convinced that we’re on a date,” you chuckle. 

Jeongguk gasps. His hand clenches against his chest as if he’s wounded by your words. “You mean to tell me this isn’t a date? I thought we had something special.” He feigns exasperation. “You are my wife, after all, aren’t you?” 

You don’t care to admit how amusing it is to hear the word wife coming from him. Despite the smile that plays on your lips, you shake your head no.

“This isn’t a real date,” you explain in denial. Nobody has ever asked you out, and you’ll be damned if the first time is just pretend. “But I guess this is good practice, especially when the stakes are higher for the interview.” 

“Hmm… practice.” A crinkle forms between Jeongguk’s brows, lost in thought. 

“I have to admit that I don’t have a lot of experience with dating, and that’s why we have to practice.” You shake your head, flustered. “Actually, I’ve never even been in a relationship.” 

“Why’s that?” He asks the age-old question. 

“I’m not really the type that people fall for.” You tuck your head between your shoulders, offering a shrug. “I’m quiet ー Not really good with people. I’m a bit of a late bloomer. I spent a lot of my youth taking care of my younger brother.” That’s only the jist of it. You don’t bother getting into the nitty gritty details. Being a full-time assassin isn’t necessarily “first-date appropriate” conversation. 

“How many partners have you had?” You bounce back, diverting the attention away from you. 

“Just one, my wife who passed. We had been together since we were in high school.” The lie seeps through his teeth so easily. It’s terrifying. But the less you know, the better. 

The thought of being Jeongguk’s first “girlfriend” since the passing of his wife makes you incredibly nervous. Upon seeing the sullen avoidance in his eyes, you don’t bring it up again. Instead, you try to lighten the mood.

The two of you fall into a routine of volleying questions back and forth. If you’re planning to convince everyone that you’re husband and wife, you’re going to have to know more than just one another’s (supposed) names and (supposed) professions. 

You start with the easy stuff. “Where did you grow up?” 

“Busan. I miss the sound of the ocean, but I don’t mind the city as long as Minny goes to the best school in the country. What about you?” 

“I grew up in a town so small you wouldn’t be able to find it on the map, but it’s not far from the capital.”

“Cryptic, I like it.” A grin forms onto the corners of lips before he takes a sip of his coffee. 

Over the next hour, you learn that Jeongguk, as robust and intimidating as he looks, is warm and gentle. His favorite thing about being a father is having someone to love and protect. To him, Minji is a bundle of joy who makes his day brighter despite the hurdles that come with being a parent. He would do anything in the world to give his child the life he never quite had. 

Likewise, having lost his parents at a young age, he learned to lead a fulfilling life all on his own. Instead of letting it bog him down, he clings onto the simple things for respite, searching for happiness in every corner of the universe. 

He loves the rain and how it fleetingly smells like the warm and muggy summers of his hometown. Although he doesn’t experience the monsoon season quite like he used to, he loves to watch Minji splash around in her yellow rain boots. His favorite time of day is golden hour, especially when the fluffy white clouds are tinted with orange hues, reminding him of his first dog, Gureum. 

Jeongguk has a slight addiction to black coffee, even if it makes his stomach hurt on the odd occasions (and you suggest he tries tea instead). He likes his eggs scrambled, and he prefers waffles over pancakes. He has plenty of awful habits like singing karaoke at four in the morning followed by cooking a pot of instant ramen to satiate his brutal cravings (yes, his food preferences are vital to your understanding of who Jeongguk is as a person, down to his core). 

He tells you about his trip to Chicago some months ago where he definitely deepthroated a deep dish pizza after being dared by Seokjin. As much as he loved traveling, he was easily home-sick and desperately missing his fix of samgyeopsal. In fact, he tells you he would love to invite you over one day so he can make you a meal. And thank God for that because you are not handy in the kitchen whatsoever. 

You learn that not necessarily all of his tattoos have meaning. The tiger is an emblem of his country while the tiger lily is his birth flower, and it is a silent, desperate plea to be loved. There’s a silly emoji on his middle finger just because he thinks it’s funny. He hates having to cover it up when he goes to work (tattoos may not have been the smartest idea knowing that he has to keep his identity a secret, but the damage is already done), and he’s certain that everybody judges him for the ink on his arms. 

“As long as you like your tattoos, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.” You offer him a warm smile as though nothing could ever hurt him. God, how he wishes that was true. 

For some reason, Jeongguk doesn’t know how to react to your words. He’s only ever been told to cover up his skin as if he has something to be ashamed of.  

In exchange for his stories, you trade Jeongguk pieces of your life. How your favorite memory from youth was when you had taken the city bus an hour and a half down to the beach with your brother, San, where you’d build sand castles on the brink of collapse. Sometimes, the smell of salt air and the longing for August still lingers to this day. 

You tell him about your attempt at joining the knitting club so you could make cute sweaters and vests. They were never perfect. But at least they kept your brother warm during the winters. Besides, you had fun playing dress-up with him. Jeongguk finds that perhaps the boldest thing you’ve ever done is bleach your hair strawberry blonde, only for it to turn out orange. 

His laughter blooms through his chest when you tell him about the time you almost set the microwave on fire. Your mom never told you that aluminum foil doesn’t belong in there, and you had to learn that the hard way. That’s probably why you should never set foot in the kitchen again. Nevertheless, you made mistake after mistake just so that San could have food on the table everyday after school. At least you’ve perfected the art of cutting fruit at this point ー no cooking skills required. 

Although the two of you talk for what seems like hours, you can’t help but think there’s so much more to this man, and he’s unwilling to share. It doesn’t necessarily bother you because you, too, have secrets of your own. You can’t expect him to reveal everything about his life, even if he never does. 

It’s well into the evening when Jeongguk walks you home. The path is quiet. It’s illuminated by the dim light of the street lamps. It feels like a scene from a movie you’ve once watched ー the origin of all your teenage fantasies. But this is real. You’re just a girl, standing in front of a boy, and that’s where it all begins. 

“y/n?” The way he says your name brings you to a halt. His voice, although usually confident, is timid and uncertain. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right? We still have a lot to talk about.” He looks at you with stars in his eyes, although none of them belong to you, and they could never be yours. 

Your lips press together in a tight line, nodding your head in affirmation. As you bid your goodbyes, you wonder if it would be inappropriate to give him a hug. After all, you’ve only just met the day prior, and this is nothing but pretend. Yet how will you ever grow accustomed to the touch of your husband?

Your arms remain crossed over your chest. You look down at your shoes, kicking a loose pebble at the front of your door, contemplating. 

But he reaches for your hand, lightly grasping around your fingers. You jolt back as if he set your nerves aflame. Your gaze lifts toward his eyes, but it quickly lowers as Jeongguk descends down to one knee. 

Your heart pounds against your chest, and you pray that he cannot hear it. 

“I’m sorry I don’t have a proper ring…” He begins. “I hope you can accept this for now, and I swear I’ll get a diamond on your hand one day ー As big as you want.” 

Jeongguk carefully pulls a small metal band from his pocket. It can easily be confused for the end piece of a keychain ー perhaps it’s something that his daughter had left behind in his coat, never to be remembered. But for Jeongguk, he knows perfectly well that it’s the pin from a grenade he had tossed the week prior on an escape mission. He slides the ring onto your finger, and although it is slightly too large, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“I may not have been your first choice of a partner, and for all I know, I could have been dead last, but thank you for sticking by me. I swear I’ll take care of you. I’ll hold your heart with gentle hands, and I won’t ever let it break.” 

After all, this is just pretend. 

But for some reason, his voice sounds so earnest, and you almost believe him. To be frank, you never really cared about lavish weddings and seven carat diamonds. If you were to ever look for a companion, all you could ask for is an honest partner. 

Too bad Jeon Jeongguk is anything but that.

Throughout the next week, you spend more and more time getting to know your new “boyfriend.” Because of this, you have to put your side hustle on pause and constantly decline assignments on your burner phone. You certainly wouldn’t want Jeongguk to overhear your plans to murder while he sits pretty beside you, waiting to hear about your day ー your hopes, your dreams, and anything else that’s on your mind. But it would be a shame if you cut your dates early, only to spend less than a second to put a bullet through your enemies’ heads.

You’d have much more fun with Jeongguk instead. Because he tends to plan the cutest surprise dates, and they’re so incredibly thoughtful. Sometimes, Minji would accompany your dates when Seokjin can’t babysit (he’s too busy trying to find his own baby mama so he can prove Minji wrong). Nevertheless, Minji adores the time that you spend together because it feels like you’re a real family.

The three of you would drive to the movies, play boardgames, and eat ice cream for dinner. Jeongguk had even taken you both to the annual carnival that you desperately wanted to check out. He wasn’t fond of going because those claw machines and arcade games are absolute scams! Yet you caught the smug grin on his face when he finally won a stuffed bunny after downing fifty bucks. He was just so addicted to the thrill of nearly winning: “I could have gotten that!” 

During your dates, you would laugh for hours on end, but by the end of the night, Minji would fall asleep on her father’s shoulder. That’s usually your cue to head home. Sometimes, you think that he might kiss you goodnight, but he never does. His lips only ever brush your knuckles like the gentleman that he is. 

…

True to his word, Jeongguk invites you over for dinner the following Friday.

When you arrive at his apartment, you are instantly the worst houseguest known to mankind. Your umbrella is dripping wet from the pouring rain, effectively ruining Jeongguk’s wooden floors. However, that’s not the problem that Jeongguk has with you. The problem is that you’re unable to stop laughing at Jeongguk’s attire. 

Surely, your parents had taught you to be kind, especially to your hosts. Well, when Jeongguk swings the door open, revealing a frilly apron, something akin to what your grandmother would wear, you couldn’t help it! A picture of My Melody is stamped onto the chest, staring straight into your soul. 

It isn’t lost on you ー the irony of a big, strong man, no doubt subjected to dress up in his daughter’s choice of clothing. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” Jeongguk pouts, tilting his head like a puppy. 

You stifle your giggle behind a tight lipped smile, but you’re so close to bursting at the seams. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

After placing your shoes at the door, Jeongguk leads you into his humble abode. He takes the bottle of chardonnay from your hands, thanking you for the gift, and places it onto the dining table. 

“Dinner should be ready in an hour,” he informs you. 

“I know I’m not very useful in the kitchen, but if you need help-” 

Before you can even think about lifting a finger, Jeongguk is quick to suggest an alternative. “No, don't worry, you’re my guest. Just relax, okay? Minny is in the living room. You should spend time with her.” 

In the adjacent room, Minji is crouched over her study material. Her worksheets spread across the coffee table. Each question covers a different subject: basic biology, political science, religion and ethics, foreign language, etc. You never quite realized how much pressure children face in the education system. 

After all, you were never really concerned with grades. You never thought about applying to the top school in the nation. In fact, your grades had fallen down a slippery slope by the time you were in high school. Rather, all of your time was dedicated to earning money and supporting your family. 

When you sit beside Minji, she beckons you closer before you can even greet her. “I’m dying. Help me,” she pleads with wide eyes. You look down to see her math homework ー fractions, Minji’s sworn enemy. 

“Appa wants me to study, but he won’t give me the answers,” Minji whines. 

You can’t help but chuckle. “Minny, you have to figure out the answers on your own if you want to do well.”

The sound of your advice makes her drop her head on the table with a soft thump. 

“Here, let’s do a few questions together,” you suggest. 

Try as you might, you only manage to complete half of the assignment. Minji huffs, slightly frustrated when she doesn’t understand the concept. 

You pat her back, consoling the small child. “Once you eat dinner, you’ll have more brain energy. Maybe you just need a break.” 

A lightbulb goes off above her head, and she springs to her feet. “Appa! Can I give eomma a tour of the house?” 

You tilt your head, amused by the sound of Minji calling you her mother. 

“That sounds like a great idea!” Jeongguk cranes his neck to peek at his devious daughter. “Just make sure you study again when you’re done.” 

Minji takes her father’s approval as a cue to grab your hand in hers, showing you every corner of the house ー all of her drawings taped to the fridge, her favorite stuffed animals lined up at the end of the bed, and the sparkly clean toilet where she poops every morning. After describing everything in excruciating detail, you could have sworn that Minji would run out of words to say. But she never does. 

“What’s behind that door?” You point to the end of the hall. 

“That’s appa’s bedroom. He told me I should never go in there unless he gives me permission.” 

You suppose it’s healthy to set boundaries between you and your child. It’s not like Jeongguk has distasteful art hanging on his walls, and it’s not likely that he’s hiding a dead body in there. He doesn’t seem to be the type to store skeletons in the closet. You, on the other hand, now that’s a different story. Perhaps Jeongguk just needs a little privacy at the end of every night. 

Minji’s voice breaks you out of your reverie. “Eomma! This is your room! Well, it’s a guest room, but appa says it’s basically yours if you ever want a place to stay.” 

You step into the final room, glancing around the walls at a loss of words. Your eyes are drawn to the shelves. They’re brimming with so many novels. It’s like your own personal library. You could probably spend the entire day just browsing through each book. 

As you slide open one of the drawers, you’re surprised to find an array of period products. There are also makeup wipes, an abundance of face masks, some sunscreen, and essential oils (apparently, women love that sort of stuff according to an article Jeongguk had bookmarked). There’s even a candle that’s labeled ‘ocean breeze.’

“Do you like it?” Minji looks up at you with wide, glimmering eyes as she uncaps the candle, shoving her entire nose against the wax with a hard whiff. 

“I love it, Minny, thank you for the tour. I really appreciate it. You should get back to your studies. I’ll help your dad with dinner, but if you need my help, just call me, okay?” 

Minji sniffles theatrically and drags her feet into the living room. 

You head towards the kitchen to find Jeongguk slicing a daikon radish with military precision. There’s soft music playing in the background, accompanied by the pouring rain outside, occasionally interrupted by the soft huff of frustration when Jeongguk’s bangs cover his eyes. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows, revealing his strong forearms covered in tattoos. 

Jeongguk finally looks up at you in the doorway. He flashes you a smile ー delighted, and very much enamored. “How was the tour?” 

“Your home is so cozy. But I don’t know if I was supposed to look at the top secret file you forgot to put away.” 

“I- WHAT?” He yelps. The shock on his face is quickly replaced with an acute pain. The knife had sliced through his palm upon one careless motion. 

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters under his breath, ensuring that Minji won’t hear his foul language.

Jeongguk drops the radish onto the cutting board with a thud. He forces pressure onto the wound with the pad of his thumb to stop the bleeding. In actuality, he’s more concerned about the food than he is about his finger. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?” You rush over to his side, reaching for his wrist. “Let’s run it under cold water.” 

The two of you waddle towards the small sink, attached by the hip. 

“I was kidding about the secret files. I’m sorry about the cut.” You’re ridden with guilt, seeing that your mindless joke had cost Jeongguk his hand. 

“No, no, you don’t have to apologize. It was my fault. I was the one holding the knife.” 

You shake your head. “Don’t blame yourself either. It happens. I get cuts all the time.” If there’s ever a blade against your skin, it’s usually by the hands of your enemies. You, on the other hand, are a pro when it comes to handling knives. 

Jeongguk shuts the faucet off, examining the cut. It’s shallow. You could hardly see it.

“I’ll grab a bandaid for you,” you offer, already sprinting down the hallway. 

“They’re in the bathroom! Medicine cabinet!” Jeongguk shouts. 

“I know! Minny gave me a tour of everything,” you shout back. You pluck the ointment and the familiar Hello Kitty bandages off the shelf before shuffling back to the kitchen. “Minny shared way too much information about the inventory of your medicine cabinet. Apparently, you have two morphine capsules left. You should get a refill on those.” 

Jeongguk hums in recognition, and you wonder why he would need a painkiller as strong as morphine. 

Taking Jeongguk’s hand in yours, you assess the cut and gently blow on the appendages with the purse of your lips. You place the pink bandage onto his hand, and out of habit, you give him a quick kiss on the booboo. 

When you pull back, you’re absolutely mortified. You avoid his gaze, trying to hide your own humiliation. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that. The kids at the daycare always ask for a kiss when they’re injured.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” A rosy hue dusts over Jeongguk’s cheeks. Why is he so shy when he’s usually the bold and courageous one? He’ll be sure to call Seokjin tonight to ask what this means ー to be so flustered and afflicted by your touch. Is his skin supposed to feel like it’s on fire? 

With the look on his face, you’re not quite sure who’s more embarrassed. So you run towards the sink and nervously wash your hands, practically rubbing the skin raw. 

“I’ll cut the radish for you.” You take his place by the cutting board. 

When he asks if you’re sure, you just hum in response, having already started, and he succumbs to your offer. Typically, Jeongguk would not be willing to accept anyone’s help. But there’s warmth and sincerity in your tone.

“Let me tie this for you.” Jeongguk steps behind you, lightly brushing your hair back to keep it out of your eyes. 

Heat rushes to your face, and you nod in agreement. Instantly, Jeongguk separates your hair into three different strands.

“You know how to braid?” you ask, chopping away at the radish. “You can just tie a simple ponytail if you want.” 

“Minny said she wanted to go to school with a French braid. I didn’t know how to do it, so I looked at a video online. I’m not that good, but let me practice, okay?” He ties off your hair with the elastic that he keeps on his wrist for standby. “Tadaaa!” A proud grin sits on his pretty lips. 

You can tell that the braid is a little too loose for your liking, but you’ll be sure to show him how to properly braid later. Perhaps after dinner. “How does it look?” You wonder. 

“You’re perfect,” Jeongguk says affirmatively, sweet as ever. “Here, let me give you an apron.” 

Before you know it, he loops a string of fabric over your head. It sits loosely on the back of your neck. Jeongguk’s hand rests on your shoulder blade, pushing your hips against the counter as he reaches to tie the string around the small of your back. He fixates on the knot that tethers around his thick fingers as he works on the fabric. His breath is hot against your neck. You can feel the heat radiate off of him. 

When he pulls back, you swallow the lump in your throat, sighing a breath of relief. “Thanks,” you murmur. 

The worst part is that Jeongguk doesn’t even realize the effect that he has on you. You wonder when he’ll put an end to this madness. Because at this rate, you think you might explode if he inches any closer to you. 

As it seems, fate has other plans. 

While he watches you cook, he hovers behind you; not because he’s controlling, but because he wants to make sure you’re safe. He has to admit that you’re skilled with a knife, but your cooking techniques aren’t quite there. 

“When you cut, curl your fingers and tuck your knuckles underneath them.” Jeongguk inches closer and places his chin on the crown of your head. He slots himself against your back as his protective arms cage you against the marble counter. His hands slide down from your wrist, careful not to startle you, before cupping them around your fingers. He gently guides your hand, ensuring that you don’t cut yourself. 

You don’t realize that you’ve been holding your breath until he steps away. Maybe cooking isn’t as bad as you make it out to be.

The heavy downpour of rain patters against the windows. 

“It looks like the weather is getting worse. I didn’t realize it would storm tonight,” Jeongguk peeks between the blinds before lighting a few candles. The lamps had been flickering because of the torrential rain. “The roads aren’t very safe. If you want to stay over, you can take the guest room.” 

You nearly drop the cutlery on the table in the midst of setting up dinner. “Ar- are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.” 

“Stop with that, you’re never a bother,” he reassures you. “If you want, I’ll drive you home first thing tomorrow morning.” 

You think about the invitation before ultimately deciding to accept. “Thank you, Jeongguk. And by the way, I really appreciate how you set the room up for me.” You shoot him a grateful smile. 

“Anything for my wife.” The warmth of his words makes your heart flutter. 

When the table is finally set, the three of you settle down for dinner. 

You bite the inside of your cheek as you stare at the beautiful arrangement of food you have yet to touch. There’s tender pork belly, fermented shrimp, spicy oyster radish, fresh garlic, and pickled cabbage among a bunch of other side dishes you can’t even put a name to. 

“You said you were hungry, right?” Jeongguk picks up the cabbage leaf and stuffs the ingredients inside. He wraps it into a roll and places it on top of your fluffy white rice. 

Watching the steam rise in front of you, you nearly bawl from how delicious it smells. The tears threaten to spill from the corners of your eyes. 

Nobody has ever made you a home-cooked meal since your parents had passed. 

“Are you- uhm,” Jeongguk lifts his hand, not knowing what to do with his own limbs. A set of chopsticks rests between his thumb and pointer finger, fish cake tucked between the silver metal. It hovers halfway across the table, abruptly stopping before he could reach your bowl. “You can cry, it’s okay-” 

You don’t dare to move a single muscle when the tear falls down your cheeks. 

Minji reaches over to wipe the droplet away. You can’t tell if she wants to comfort you, or rather, she’s just looking to steal a bite of your pork belly. But you’re inclined to believe it’s the former. Her father had already served a piece of meat in her bowl. 

“It’s okay, eomma. You can cry. Just… don’t do it over the dishes. You don’t want your food to be salty,” Minji advises. 

Jeongguk calls his daughter’s name, scolding. He plucks out a few tissues from the box and passes them across the table. 

You wipe your eyes, praying that the tears will stop. “I’m sorry, I’m fine,” you shake your head. “I just don’t really remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal with anyone other than myself. I think my parents were the last people to ever cook for me.” 

“What about your brother?” Jeongguk inquires. 

“I’ve always made food for him growing up, and ever since he went to university, he’s been away from home. I really haven’t seen him in a while.” A sullen smile tugs on your lips. “We usually just talk on the phone.” 

Jeongguk topples more food onto your bowl, filling it to the brim. “Whenever you come over, you can have any kind of food that you want. Just name it, and it’ll be yours. Even if I don’t know how to make it, I’ll learn. Now let’s eat up, okay?” He picks up a piece of pork belly, prepared to bribe you like a child who hasn’t stopped crying. 

You open your mouth, allowing him to feed you, humming in satisfaction. You mutter a thank you before putting on your bravest smile as the rain pours outside. 

It’s late in the night when you hear a soft sniffle that echoes from the other side of the bedroom door, followed by a dull strike against the wooden surface, a call for your attention.

“Eomma?”

It never takes you by surprise when a child who isn’t yours calls you their mother. It happens often enough at the daycare center. Tiny humans let the term of endearment slip from their loose lips ー some variation of “mom,” “mommy,” or “eomma.” 

These children cry for you when they have trouble opening their chocolate milk, or when they get a “booboo” from their arts and crafts activity, nothing but a measly, barely-there papercut. These children have an understanding that they’re safe with you. That you’d take care of them like a mother would, opening their bottles, helping to clean their mess, kissing their pain away, and wiping the tears dry. Sometimes they don’t notice their honest mistake, having called you their mother. Other times, they’re apologetic and embarrassed. But what’s there to be embarrassed about? 

The vocabulary of children is limited to only a few hundred words, but they always resort to the one thing they know. Whether it is, “mom,” “mommy,” “eomma,” or so on and so forth, they trust you in the purest form. They feel protected and comforted by you. 

Although you’ve heard it a dozen times before, you’ve never seen a child mean it so earnestly, not like Minji, and definitely not at two in the morning. 

You open the bedroom door, looking down to see her tear stained cheeks. The instinct to protect kicks in like second nature. “Minny, what’s wrong?” 

Lightning flashes through the sky, followed by a loud crash of thunder. The little girl flinches with a yelp, squeezing her eyes shut, pressing her hands against her ears. 

“It’s so loud, ‘m scared,” Minji pouts. 

You crouch down to wrap your arms around her shoulders, whispering sweet nothings into her ear. She shivers in your hold, trying to calm down as you rub soothing circles onto her back. 

“Don’t worry, Minny. The thunder can’t catch you while you’re in here,” you murmur, adjusting the nightcap on the top of her head. “You’re always safe with me.” 

“Can I sleep with you and appa tonight?” Minji asks. 

“Th- the both of us?” Your eyes widen. Perhaps Minji doesn’t quite understand the terms of your arrangement. You’re not actually her mom, and Jeongguk isn’t really your husband. Certainly, sleeping in the same bed as Jeongguk crosses some imaginary boundary. “I- I don’t know if appa would-” 

“Can we ask him?” Minji pleads, and she looks like she’s about to burst. It doesn’t hurt to try, right?

So you relent, and the two of you tiptoe down the hall to Jeongguk’s bedroom, hand-in-hand. There’s a light that leaks from the bottom of the doorway. Could he possibly be awake this late in the night? 

You motion at the door, encouraging Minji to knock. She has to be a big girl, expressing her needs, asking for help when she needs it. 

“Appa!” Minji whacks the palm of her hand against the wooden surface, and you have to correct her form. You squeeze her hands into a fist, showing her how to properly knock and urge her to try again. 

On the other side, you can hear the shuffle of papers and the sound of wheels scraping against the linoleum floor, followed by the pad of footsteps. The door swings open, revealing a set of sleepy eyes, shrouded behind a pair of glasses. Jeongguk’s hair is disheveled, having run his hands through his overgrown mane a million times (he’s been pondering whether he should cut it, but you’ve shyly expressed how he looks handsome either way, and right now is no exception). 

“Appa, can I sleep with the both of you tonight?” Minji hiccups between sniffles, and a tear treads down her cheek. When a crash of thunder sounds through the air, she lurches forward to wrap her arms around her father’s legs, shaking like a leaf.

Jeongguk pats the top of Minji’s head to comfort her. “What’s wrong? What happened?” 

“The sky,” Minji shakes her head, pressing her face deeper into her father’s thigh. “Too loud. It’s scary. Wanna sleep with you and eomma.” 

Normally, Jeongguk would be stressed, weighing his options, trying to determine the best course of action for his child. But there’s a sigh of relief that slips from his lips when his gaze meets yours. There’s a deep blush that spreads across his cheeks. “Is this okay with you?” His lips move in silence, mouthing the words, only for you to see.

In response, you nod your head and flash him a concerned smile. “You?” You mouth the words right back. 

Jeongguk’s answer is obvious when he wraps his arms around the little girl and lifts her into the air. “Let’s go to sleep, Minny.”

Jeongguk taps his chin, pondering, as he stares at the little girl sandwiched in the center of his bed. “Something doesn’t feel right.” But there’s an unmistakable glimmer in his eyes. As tired as he is, he doesn’t seem to let it show. “You know what we should do?” 

Before you can respond, he’s already darting out of the bedroom. He stumbles into the living area, grabbing all the mismatched furniture that he can find. There’s a coat rack in one hand and a stool in another. He runs to grab a fishing pole from the closet, one that he had stolen from Seokjin and never returned. 

“What’re you doing?” Your brows furrow, confused. But the smile on your face tells him that you’re thoroughly entertained. 

“We’re building a fort! Come help me!” He takes hold of your hand and leads you into the living room. “Here, take as many pillows as you can.” Instantly, he holds out a stack of cushions. And who are you to say no? 

With your inventory in hand, you run back to Jeongguk’s bedroom and plop them down onto the bed. “Minny, put the pillows wherever you want! Make it comfy for yourself.” 

The three of you get to work, constructing a pillow fort, and suddenly, you’re five years old all over again. 

Jeongguk returns with spare bed sheets and throw-blankets, tenting them over the makeshift poles. When you’re finally satisfied with your fort, the two of you climb onto the mattress on either side of Minji, huffing and puffing from all the energy exerted. 

“That was fun,” you say, exasperated. A beat of silence passes by as you catch your breath. “Thank you again for letting me sleep over, by the way.” 

There’s fondness in Jeongguk’s eyes as he turns to look at you. “I hope you know that you can stay as long as you want, and you’re always welcomed whenever.” His sentiment makes your heart beat a little faster. “I told you I’d take care of you.” 

“You should know…” As you stare at the roof of the makeshift fort, you try to make sense of how you ended up here. It doesn’t feel real. It doesn’t feel like you deserve it. “Taking care of me is more trouble than it’s worth.” 

Jeongguk’s voice is stern and relentless. “It’s not trouble. Not if it’s you. Do you really think I scare so easily?” 

You think you might cry, but you’ve already used up more than enough tears from your daily allowance. So you turn to thank him, only to be met with Jeongguk’s half-lidded eyes. He only hums in response ー there’s no need to thank him. 

His face is illuminated by the faint glow of the desk lamp on the other side of the room, the one he abandoned in favor of lulling his precious daughter to sleep. Minji holds her father’s hand while you stroke her hair. Within a few short minutes, she’s sound-asleep. The room is quiet, save for her soft snores. 

“Poor Minny, I hope that this doesn’t ruin her sleep schedule,” you whisper into the night. 

“She might need a nap tomorrow, but that’s okay. It happens sometimes.” Jeongguk lets out a yawn as he tugs the blankets up his shoulders. 

You remind him with gentle caution, “What about you? You shouldn’t sleep so late.” 

“I know, I know.” He presses his palms against his eyes, utterly exhausted. “I just wanted to squeeze one more chapter in.” 

You peek out from the gap in the fort, scanning the mess that lies on top of Jeongguk’s desk. Books are stacked across two different piles, separated by genre ー One of them being social psychology books required for his research; “How to Win Friends and Influence People” sits on the very top. 

Another stack is dedicated to the parenting books he often checks out from the library. There are Hello Kitty post-it notes that fill up nearly every page, bookmarked for future reference. 

Your eyes return to Jeongguk’s figure, convinced that you can steal a glance, evaluating his exhausted state. But he already has his eyes trained on you, albeit very groggy. A dopey grin stretches across his lips. If he wasn’t already tired before, he definitely is now. 

“You don’t have to do all this alone, Jeongguk. You need to rest.” You flash him a matching smile, hoping that the sentiment reaches him. “I don’t think that you scare easily, but I don’t think you’re immune to it either. And that’s perfectly okay. We’re all just people trying to get by.” 

Jeongguk sinks deeper into the pillows, succumbing to his sleepy desires. “Thank you,” he murmurs, slurring his words. Another yawn slips from his lips. “I’m just used to it 一 being on my own.” 

“Well, you’re not on your own anymore. You can count on me. We’re a team, remember?” 

Jeongguk hums, reduced to non-verbal responses that don’t require much energy. Exhaustion tugs at his eyelids until they’re shut. He makes a mental note to talk about this with you another day. 

You wave a hand in front of his face, convinced that he’s far gone from the state of consciousness. “If it makes you feel better, I can head back to my room now,” you whisper. You think it might be futile to warn him, considering he’s not awake. But as you peel the blanket back, one foot off the bed, there’s a warmth that envelops your wrist, and you halt in your tracks. 

“Stay,” Jeongguk, as tired as he is, manages to mutter with conviction. 

His grip doesn’t falter, and so, you relent. You crawl back beneath the sheets and let the night fade into dawn. 

The sound of rain splashes against the window. The petrichor smells like childhood. It feels like home, and Jeongguk has never slept so soundlessly in his entire life. 

Somehow, Jeongguk wakes up long before you, and you want to curse him for looking so handsome at the crack of dawn. His hair, although disheveled, looks perfectly imperfect. His shirt, as loose as it is, hugs his body in all the right places, sweatpants hanging low on his hips. His round specs perch on the bridge of his nose. 

“What do you think about going on a family outing?” Jeongguk suggests over breakfast. 

Minji’s eyes widen as excitement fills her tiny frame.

“That sounds like a fun idea,” you chime. “We should spend more time together so we can be perfect for the interview.” Because loving this man and his daughter is nothing more than a performance, right? 

 “Maybe we can stop at the convenience store and have a picnic in the park. What do you think?” In Jeongguk’s mind, he maps the layout of the market, pinpointing the food that the three of you would enjoy: kimbap, dried squid, potato chips, banana milk, and even fish shaped ice cream. 

“The weather cleared up today. It’s beautiful outside.” You say, chowing down on a bite of strawberries. 

Jeongguk raises a brow, questioning. “You want to go today? I thought you would want to go home after spending the night.” 

“I don’t have much else planned on a Sunday. It gets kind of lonely at my house,” you shrug. “Are you sick of me already?” 

But Jeongguk shakes his head. He’d be foolish to ever push you away. 

…

In sync, both you and Minji enthusiastically bounce on your feet through the streets of Seoul. You could easily pass as a family from that simple action alone. It’s evident when elders cross paths with you, a fond smile sitting on their faces: “You have a beautiful family!” There’s no denying that. The three of you are picture perfect as you link hands on either side of Minji because she is, in fact, the center of your universe. 

When you arrive at the convenience store, Jeongguk picks out a variety of nutritious food while Minji tries to slip cookies into the basket. She’s convinced that her father is not looking because he’s too busy sneaking glances at you from the other end of the snack aisle. He doesn’t think anyone would notice, but Minji surely does. 

For some reason, he feels so content standing in a supermarket with his wife who picks the freshest fruit, and his daughter who tries to distract him from seeing the junk food in her hands. In fact, he could probably spend the entire day comparing vegetable prices, and he would still have the time of his life with you. He used to hate running errands, unless it was doing laundry. But now, he doesn’t seem to mind it. Perhaps it’s because he has two companions at his side, and it feels a little less lonely. 

“Jeongguk?” You call his name from down the aisle. “Do you want me to grab coffee for you?” You reach for the top shelf on your tippy toes, struggling to grip your hands around the bottle. 

Within an instant, Jeongguk is already at your side. He wraps an arm around your waist to prevent you from falling forward. A heat envelops your hand as he wraps his fingers around your palm. “I think I’ll skip on coffee for now. How about tea?” 

Upon hearing his deep voice against the shell of your ear, you grow flustered. The heat of his body makes you freeze, and all you can do is nod your head, stunned. He reaches one shelf over to pluck a large bottle of tea, one that you can all share. 

Although he’s dropped your hand, he keeps a strong arm around your waist. His shoulders are broad enough to simply devour you. Even his chest is so firm pressed against your back.

“By the way, angel, don’t you think we’ve moved on from the formalities?” There’s a pout that rests on his lips. “I’d like it if you could call me something other than Jeongguk. I think it’s more convincing that way.” 

“But that’s your name. What do you want me to call you? Babe? Baby?” 

He shakes his head as he rests his chin in the crook of your neck. His hair brushes against your cheek, and your breath hitches in your throat.

You stutter the words out of your mouth, trying to act unaffected. “H- how about darling? Honey? Sweetie? … Handsome?” 

He doesn’t react to either of them, but handsome definitely makes him giggle. 

You ponder for a moment more. “Then what about love?” 

His arm squeezes your waist a little tighter as he presses an innocent kiss to your cheek. “That’s perfect, angel.” 

He unravels himself from you as you stare blankly at the beverage aisle in complete awe. You brush your fingertips against your cheek where his warmth lingers. 

This is still practice… right? 

As you stroll through the park, you come across a live performance at the base of the fountain. There’s a man playing guitar, and he’s serenading the crowd as he busks for money. The three of you stand to admire just for a moment. 

A few feet away, Minji is spinning and dancing to the soft melody. Meanwhile, Jeongguk moves his head to the beat of the song, singing the words, albeit faintly. 

“You have a pretty voice.” You nudge your shoulders against his to catch his attention. 

“Oh, it’s nothing.” He’s bashful. 

“You should sing for me one day.” You raise your brows, trying to tempt him. 

He contemplates your request, but he teases you with a soft “maybe.” He bumps his shoulder against yours like a high schooler with a crush. 

You return the sentiment in a playful back and forth. His sweet action makes you squeal, but not for the reason that you think. Because the affectionate brush of skin against yours quickly transforms into Jeongguk hauling you into his arms. His thick biceps wrap beneath your thighs, and he lifts you into the air. You can’t stop yourself from giggling when he spins you around. There’s a combination of thrill and euphoria in your chest. 

Jeongguk’s mind briefly wanders back to the conversation he had with Minji right before he tucked her into bed last night. “Appa, do you have a crush on eomma?” 

He had scoffed at the question, brushing it off as if that was far from the truth. But Minji had thought otherwise. “When you have a crush on someone, you think about them all the time. You want them to be happy, and you would do anything to make them smile. Whenever you look at eomma, I can see your ears go red. I think you were shy when she kissed your booboo, and you probably want to kiss her back, right?” For some reason, Minji’s advice seemed to be more introspective than what he could ever pull out of Seokjin. 

Jeongguk shakes his head, returning back to reality as he tucks the memory away. When he places you on the ground, you pant with adrenaline. “I thought I was going to fall.” 

His gaze meets yours, and he playfully brushes his knuckles beneath your chin. The peak of sunset illuminates your eyes, and you look golden. An epiphany flashes through his mind, and Jeongguk mutters a curse that echoes through his thoughts. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He wants to kiss you. 

But as usual, Jeongguk’s mind wins over his heart. He bites his tongue back and offers the next best thing: “Do you think I’d ever let you fall?” He grabs your hands as if nothing had happened ー as if he isn’t falling in love ー and you sway to the beat of the music, skipping to the lawn where you can enjoy your picnic. 

…

The park is bustling with so many individuals going about their day, minding their own business. The city comes alive with all of the action that surrounds you. 

“Eomma, what’s that over there?” Minji points at an art display at the other end of the fountain. There’s a throng of people, crowding around the small space. The three of you pack up your meal, making sure to toss all of your garbage, before heading over to catch sight of the action. 

There are rows of copy paper attached to a fishing line. It strings across a makeshift perimeter, rooted with no rhyme or reason. Apparently, all the buzz is about an interactive exhibit. Anonymous letters from passersby are posted for you to view, and you may even contribute by submitting your own story. You could write about anything you want. 

“That sounds like a fun idea,” Jeongguk suggests. So he grabs paper and markers for the three of you as you get to work. 

Jeongguk tries to steal a glance at your story, but you throw your body over the paper. 

“Hey, no peeking!” you shout. “These stories are supposed to belong to strangers, okay? Let’s keep it anonymous.” 

On the other hand, Minji is enthusiastic to show her father the family portrait she’s drawn. 

As the minutes pass, you finish jotting your thoughts. It’s not perfect by any means, but the sentiment is still there. When all is said and done, you’ve agreed that you wouldn’t read one another’s stories. One day, you both will disclose the contents of your letter, and you will finally know the truth, but today is not that day. 

.

.

.

Dear reader, If I’m being honest, I’ve always felt undesirable. Nobody has ever confessed their feelings for me. I’ve never been in a relationship, nor have I had my first kiss. I’ve never been stopped in the middle of the street, only to be told that I have a beautiful smile. I’ve always been average at best.  My friends are concerned that I’m lonely. They’re convinced that I need someone to take care of me, but I constantly tell them that I can do it on my own. I’ve done it my entire life.  I’ve held my own hand, swallowed the heartache, and reminded myself “I can do this!” before doing the scary things I never wanted to do. I patted myself on the back when I finished school, earned my first job, and paid all my overdue bills. I raised my younger brother at the age of eighteen as if I was a single mother. I woke up to an empty bed every single day and fed myself scraps of food, even when I didn’t want to. Sometimes, it was burnt, charred, and a little too salty. But that’s what love tastes like, right? Through the smooth sailing and the rough patches, there was no boyfriend, no girlfriend, no partner or lover. Just me. But the more that I think about it, I am so, so tired.  Perhaps I grew up too fast and burned too bright. Because now, I don’t know what to do. There’s a guy that I like, or at least I think I do. Nobody ever taught me how to sort out my feelings. I’ve always been told to give and give and give. I’ve had to sacrifice my life, my time, and all of my energy. I was never allowed to feel anger, sadness, or human connection. I never had anything for myself, and I feel empty.  But lately, being with him brings me to life.  Although I don’t know what it’s like to be in love, this is the closest thing I’ve ever felt to it. When I’m with him, my inner child wants to come out and play. That little girl has always lived in my imagination. I don’t know her very well, but she’s running around, laughing and dancing as if she knows no pain. With him, she is always reminded that she is beautiful and spectacular. That she is stronger than anyone he knows. She is safe. She is protected. Above all, she feels seen. She gets ice cream for dinner, and it’s sweet. It doesn’t quite taste like the love she once knew, but somehow, she thinks it’s even more delicious.  Surely, yes, I can take care of myself. But maybe we can learn to take care of each other. 

.

.

.

Hi. I don’t know who cares to read this, but if you do, welcome.  Where do I even begin? I know this sounds pathetic, but… I don’t think anyone has ever truly understood me for who I am. Perhaps that’s my fault. I constantly reinvent myself to be the person that they want me to be. Society has so many expectations as to how I should look, how I should act, and how I should feel.  Let me paint you a picture. I’m big ー horribly buff. I have tattoos and long hair. All the neighborhood grandmas tell me I should cut it because I’d be more handsome. They even tell their grandchildren not to look up to me because I’m far from being an aspiration. Even if I’m the most charming person in the room… if I change my appearance ー if I lose weight, cover my tattoos, and buzz off my hair, they’d find another reason to hate me. It’ll never be enough. They’ll always perceive me as the bad guy and villainize me for everything I do. They say it’s better to be feared than to be loved if I cannot be both. But… I think I want to be loved. I want to be loved so bad that I would do anything to make people look at me. Yet they all shove their unwanted opinions down my throat, and I have nothing left to swallow but my own pride. I have no choice but to be exactly what they want.  Most people assume that I’m indestructible. Fortified. That I don’t have a single worry in this world. They think that I can shoulder all of these burdens, and nothing could possibly hurt me. Supposedly, I don’t ever cry ー I never break or bend or shatter because showing emotion is a sign that I’ve already lost.  But it’s not true.  I’m softer than I look. I worry that I’m not good enough. I feel like I suck at my job, and I constantly make mistakes. I don’t know how to be a good father, but I try.  I don’t really know what I want to say. I just wish that people didn’t feel entitled to my body. My body is my own except when it isn’t. It happens more often than not. Maybe then, I could finally be myself, whoever that may be.  It sounds like my life is awful, but I promise it isn’t that bad. Recently, I’ve found a small glimmer of hope. There’s one person who accepts me for who I am. She doesn’t expect me to be anyone but myself. She looks at me like I’m human ー as if I’m someone who’s worth it. Like I’m more than just an idea. She showed me that there’s kindness in this world ー that there’s bravery in being soft. She sees me, and scary enough, I think she can even see right through me. I’ve told her so many vulnerable things about myself, and she could probably stab me in the back with all that she knows. I think it would be worth it though.  There’s still so much I have to tell her. She may not know the whole truth, but one day, she will. I hope she doesn’t leave me when she finds out. Until then, I will take care of her. I will keep her safe and protect her with every inch of my life. I promise.

By the end of the week, you and Jeongguk have amped yourselves up for Yumi’s engagement party. But there’s one problem. 

Jeongguk is late. 

He’s never late. When he needs to pick up his daughter from school, he always shows up thirty minutes before dismissal. On date nights, he knocks on your door while you’re in the midst of putting on makeup, and he gladly watches you doll yourself up for the entire hour. For Jeongguk to be late, something must be terribly wrong. 

The two of you had agreed to meet up at Yumi’s party seeing that Jeongguk was running behind from work. But where could he possibly be when you need him the most? 

Outside of Yumi’s apartment complex, you pace anxiously, twiddling with the engagement present in your hands ー a cast iron skillet that you and Jeongguk had both bought at the department store. From the sidewalk, you can hear the sound of music streaming from the open windows. Endless chatter filters between each beat. You glance at your watch for what feels like the hundredth time. 

“Jeongguk, where are you?” You groan, ready to accept defeat. 

A nervous sigh falls from your lips. Your shoulders slump. If you have to wait any longer, you might just head into the party all on your own and lose face in front of your friends. 

Suddenly, you hear the echo of your name from down the street. Jeongguk is sprinting towards you. He’s a blur of motion. Before you realize it, the air is knocked out of your lungs. Jeongguk had overestimated his speed, missed his landing, and he is colliding into you with open arms. 

“Angel, I’m so sorry I’m late.” He tucks his head against your shoulder, panting. His cheeks are hot, and his hair is disheveled. He murmurs apologies against your skin. The scratch of his voice etches a frown onto your face. 

Between the two of you, Jeongguk is the more composed one. You’ve always known him to be calm, collected, a little silly, but lovely nevertheless. You’ve never seen him quite like this. He’s shaking. 

You squeeze his shoulders in an attempt to peel his body away from yours. But his arms wrap around your waist even tighter, unwilling to part ways. This scene is rather familiar, something akin to a little child seeking comfort. You pat his back, hushing him, as to tell him that everything will be okay. 

So you start counting to ten, reminding him to breathe in and out. You place your hand on his chest, strong and reliable, right over the beat of his heart. His eyes close, concentrating all of his energy on the blooming feeling inside of his ribcage. So you paint a pretty picture for him as you dwell in a little puddle of grief together. 

“My mom used to tell me that if you transport yourself to a happy place, then all your worries will melt away.” 

Jeongguk doesn’t respond, but he hums against your collarbone. He wants nothing more but to hear you talk. He loves the sound of your voice. What is your happy place? 

“These days, I picture myself with you in your house. We’re baking a cake with Minny, and it’s going terribly wrong.” You let out a chuckle, and it’s the sweetest thing Jeongguk has ever heard. “Well, actually, the taste is perfect. You’re the head chef after all, and you’re so talented. You know better than me.” 

You interrupt your own story with something that will definitely make him laugh. “Did you know that I’ve been borrowing cookbooks from the library? I know it sounds ridiculous. I want to get better so you don’t have to cook all the time. It’d be such a shame if I accidentally poisoned you and the cops would swarm in, charging me with second degree murder.” You can feel his smile against your neck. “I found a recipe for buckwheat noodles, and maybe we should try it out next weekend.” 

He nods against your neck, sniffling. He doesn’t want to break it to you, but all you need is a boiling pot of water to cook the noodles. 

“Well anyways, in my happy place, the kitchen is a disaster because there’s icing everywhere. Sprinkles are in your hair. I think I have flour in my bra and butter on my cheek. But we’re having fun, singing along to the radio with all of the wrong lyrics. I’d ask you to dance, and when you’re too scared of looking stupid, Minny would pull out a dance move that’s even sillier than what you could ever imagine. Because even if we can’t do it perfectly, whether it is cooking or dancing or singing, we’re still trying.”

There’s a wet tear that falls onto your collarbone. You trace a circle against Jeongguk’s chest, reminding him to concentrate all of his feelings right there. His shoulders relax and his breath evens out. 

“When we’re in our happy place, we never go hungry. So if you ever feel sad or anxious, then just meet me right here. I’ll bring the cake ー sorry, just the ingredients, actually, but I’ll get better at cooking. I swear! Minny will bring her cute attitude. And you can just bring yourself.” 

There’s a soft breeze that surrounds you. The moonlight conspires with the flight of the fireflies, illuminating the dim sidewalk. The party is long forgotten as you hold onto Jeongguk for just another moment. Reluctantly, he steps back with his head down. His eyes train on the pavement.

“How do you feel, love? Look at me.” You cup his cheeks, and he leans into your touch, nuzzling into your embrace. 

After taking a deep sigh, he lifts his head to reveal a bruised cheek and a gash above his eye, right on the brow bone. The blood runs dry. 

Shock runs through your body. “What happened? Did someone hurt you?” You gently  move his head from side to side, examining every inch of his skin to check for more injuries. But your eyes are frantic. Your hands run through his hair, feeling for bumps and bruises. The search comes up empty, but your throat constricts at the thought of someone hurting your husband. 

You grab the cast iron skillet, wielding it like a weapon with the force of a grip so tight that it threatens to bend beneath your fingers. Your other hand clenches his palm, stomping in the direction he came from so he could lead you towards the perpetrator. 

Whoever did this to Jeongguk is going to pay, and you’re willing to kill whoever it is. Because for him, you would wage a full on war, running straight into your demise if it meant fighting for him. You would barrel through fire, load your rifles, and draw your daggers no matter what it takes. If they ask you to rip your heart out and put it in his hands, you would have considered the deal done long ago. 

Jeongguk is quick to extinguish the fiery passion that fuels your anger, reminding you to not make any rash decisions. The flash of his doe eyes is enough to soothe your worries, and all you want to do is hold him. 

The truth is, Jeongguk had already taken care of the situation. As the story goes, he had accepted a side mission to stop the smuggling of antiques from a museum ー gifts from a billionaire tycoon who had long passed. His heirs had sent the treasures to be appraised in the city before it was quickly intercepted by a smuggling ring. 

Jeongguk managed to save original art from dynasties past (no doubt stolen), rare coins, china sets, and clusters of intricate jewelry. He stopped the ploy before the thieves had even left the warehouse. However, being the best of the best does not mean he is able to escape unscathed every time. 

Jeongguk did not account for the hidden explosives on the agenda. A shrapnel had grazed his skin, forming a deep gash above his brow bone. Had he not been more careful, he would have been in much worse shape. 

Although Jeongguk had completed his mission, barely injured, he can’t help but feel guilty for showing up late. If his wound was much more serious, or perhaps he was left for dead, he would not have made it to Yumi’s engagement party. The last thing Jeongguk wants is to keep you waiting. 

While he zipped through the streets of Seoul, he didn’t even have a chance to think of a lie. All he could think about was running to you. So he says the first thing that comes to mind. “The airbags in my car set off.” 

“You were in a crash? Was Minny with you? What are you doing here? You should go to a hospital!” The words splutter out of your mouth.

His hand cups yours as they rest on his cheeks. “Minny’s with Seokjin today, so don’t worry. The collision was really minor, I swear. I already went to the emergency room, and they said I’ll be good as new.” His voice is eerily calm. 

He laces his fingers with yours and presses his lips against your knuckles before promptly taking the iron skillet from your hands. “I don’t want you to worry, let’s just go to the party, okay?” 

You’re too concerned to even dwell on that tender moment of intimacy. “You worry me too much, you know?” 

“I know, angel. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” 

You squeeze his hand a little tighter as you shake your head. “I don’t need anything. I’m just glad that you’re here.” 

But little do you know, there’s a diamond ring worth millions burning a hole in Jeongguk’s pocket. Some dead billionaire isn’t going to miss it. 

Everyone at the event is captivated by Jeongguk. Of course they would. It’s easy when Jeongguk is so charming in such a deceitful way. He can easily spin different versions of himself after each new greeting, creating a hundred nuances to his personality in an instant. He could tell everyone that he’s the prince of Joseon, and they would easily fall for his lies because of the charisma that he oozes. 

Your friends see him as the best boyfriend in the world, someone who’s the total package and simply put, he’s way out of your league. He’s romantic in every aspect of the word, he’s open about his feelings, and he’s the purest definition of a “girl dad.” What more could you possibly ask for? Whatever it is, Jeongguk is exactly that. 

Even when Jeongguk has no need to impress the men at the party, he has dozens of conversation topics up his sleeve. It’s impressive when he knows basically everything about everything. You name it: video games, boxing, and the federal reserve. This arsenal of information is stored in his mind simply because he’ll never know when he needs to strike up a conversation about camping, barbecuing, or fishing (despite never having an interest to sit and stare at the water with Seokjin for hours on end). Men are so simple minded. They’re absolute fools. 

Thankfully, your brother, San, is just another man who falls for the thinly veiled ruse. He seems to approve of your relationship with Jeongguk. Mostly because he can talk about their passion for different cuts of meat. But also because he sees the way that your “boyfriend” takes care of you in the most subtle ways ー by virtue, it’s the act of noticing. 

Jeongguk walks you through the crowds of people with a guiding hand on your lower back. He fixes your hair when it falls loose in front of your face. He refills your cup with your favorite drink without ever having to ask. He can’t stop talking about how grateful he is to have a chance with you ー how you’re so beautiful and smart and the only thing he ever wants. There’s obviously love and intention in Jeongguk’s eyes whenever he looks at you. Anyone could see that. To be loved is to be known, and Jeongguk knows you like the back of his hand. 

You can feel the pressure of having to prove your relationship when all of the girls gather around, asking invasive questions. How did you convince y/n to go out with you? We almost lost hope for the poor girl. Have you all hung out as a family yet? What does Minji think of your relationship? 

For some reason, it feels like you’re back in high school, listening to locker room gossip. It feels as if they’re judging you. They’re laughing at you. But time and time again, Jeongguk defends you and your honor. Not because you need his help, but because you love the safety and security of his words.

“I don’t appreciate you being passive aggressive. Because to me, y/n is the most precious person in the world. If you have something you want to say, then just say it to my face.” He bites back without ever breaking eye contact. He rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. It’s equal parts intimidating and the most attractive thing you have ever seen. 

All the girls seem to agree when they swallow a trace of spit and nod their heads in obedience. “Sorry, we just wanted to say that you’re both so lucky to find one another.” They drop the subject, but only for a little while. 

Throughout the party, Jeongguk holds you close because he knows how nervous you were to come, and rightfully so. You told him how scared you were to introduce him to all of your friends (he doesn’t see why they deserve that title when they’re nothing but mean girls). Nevertheless, you’re frightened because your relationship with Jeongguk is sacred. Untainted. Unconventional, yes. But it’s protected because only you know about the depths of your bond. After tonight, everything will change. Having your “friends” witness your love so openly feels as if you have to give up another piece of yourself. After making this public knowledge, nothing could ever fully be yours.

But this moment right here is yours to keep, yours to hold, and yours to cherish. Jeon Jeongguk is in your arms, and all you can do is make it known that you are in love. 

“Whatever they say, ignore them, okay? Just look at me.” His arm wraps around your waist, and you relax in his hold. The stars in his eyes keep you captivated, and everything else is long forgotten. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear, scared that if he were to go up one decibel, it would burst the little bubble that you’ve created for yourselves. Perhaps you would disappear if he says your name any louder, and he would wake up to realize that his dream girl is nothing but a figment of his imagination. 

But there’s nothing about this relationship that’s fake. Your brother can see it all. Although you haven’t hung out with him in ages, he’s very intrigued with the man hanging off of your arm. “Jeongguk, when did you realize that y/n was the one?” 

“Stop, we just started dating.” You smack the back of San’s head. But Jeongguk isn’t one to shy away from the question. 

“Well, it’s a funny story. The first time I saw her, I thought I had to talk to her. A few months ago, I dropped my daughter off at the daycare. When I walked past the door, I tripped on my own two feet. I saw y/n reading a story at the front of the class. She was so elegant, graceful, and just so, so gorgeous. My first thought was that she is the most incredible person I’ve ever seen.” Jeongguk tells the story without ever taking his eyes off of you. It’s as if you’re the only person in the whole world. There’s a beaming smile stretched across his face. His dimples are carved into his cheeks. 

“Minji, my daughter, she has a tendency to cry when I’m not there. So when she bursted into tears, y/n asked if she wanted to sit with her and help her read. She put my daughter on her lap, and instantly, Minny stopped crying.

“For weeks, I tried to work up the courage to approach her. I visited as much as I could. I borrowed more materials than I could even finish, and eventually, I had a pile of overdue books sitting in my apartment. When y/n wasn’t busy with the daycare, she worked at the front desk. I thought she might say something about my outstanding charges, but she never did. At that point, I wanted to talk to her so bad, but I was so foolish. I started bringing cups of coffee into the library, thinking that she would yell at me for breaking the rules.” 

“Did it work? Why didn’t you just say something?” San wonders. 

“I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t think she was interested. She barely looked at me. Never tried to initiate small talk,” Jeongguk shrugs. 

Avoiding eye contact is exactly how you show interest in someone. Is there any other way to do it? You had been so nervous to even glance in his general direction! Men don’t ever give you affection, especially not men as gorgeous as Jeongguk. It just felt so wrong to even think about crushing on him. 

“But one day, y/n approached me first by some miracle, and I was so shocked. I- I just thought she was an angel. My daughter was at her side. We talked. One thing led to another. The next thing I knew, I was stressing about what outfit to wear and buying flowers so I could pick her up for a coffee date. I don’t even know how to explain it. Everything just fell into place.” 

You were convinced that Jeongguk had never noticed you before you approached him that fateful day in the non-fiction aisle. But it rings true that Minji had cried some months ago during reading time. You recall all of the details, albeit vaguely. Had Jeongguk been watching all this time? Did he really borrow an excessive amount of books and purposely buy illicit coffee just to get your attention? 

There’s a soft smile that plays on your lips, and Jeongguk is certain that you’re a real life angel. “I hope you know that I waived your overdue fees every single time,” you confess. 

…

At some point in the night, you and Jeongguk ended up separating in the most nightmarish of ways. Your coworkers had looped their arms around yours and pulled you away for some girl talk. 

Meanwhile Jeongguk is at the other end of the hall, playing billiards with all of the other men. He socializes with them as if it’s effortless. He tells them jokes and makes them chuckle, but of course, his laugh is the one that stands out to you the most. He’s enchanting, and you are all but a moth drawn to a flame. He lights up every room he walks into, shining brighter than anything you’ve ever seen.

As you watch Jeongguk have his own fun, you check out of the conversation, barely listening to what Yumi has to say. You couldn’t quite relate to the stories that they’ve shared about their partners ー being engaged, moving in together, trying for children, having sex. 

“y/n, how big is your boyfriend?” 

You ponder the question. “Uhm, I don’t know his weight exactly…” 

“No, no, sweetie, I mean how big is his dick?” 

Your eyes widen in surprise as you shake your head. “We haven’t actually done anything yet. Our relationship is new, y’know. Also, I don’t think that’s any of your business-” 

“You mean you haven’t even seen him naked? Surely you’ve touched him when you’ve made out, right?” Their eyes widen when you shake your head no, trying to sputter a retort. 

“Even if you’re taking it slow, you must know what he likes in bed, right? Spitting? Choking? Spanking? A little bit of roleplay? Does he like to be called daddy?”

You, yourself, nearly choke on your own drink. 

“Most couples get intimate because- I hate to break it to you-” Yumi leans closer to you until her voice is all but a whisper. “All men have needs. If they aren’t met, then he might break up with you and look for satisfaction elsewhere.” 

You don’t know why you would believe Yumi’s words despite Jeongguk’s constant reassurance of how much you mean to him. She’s so fucking infuriating, but could she be right? Does Jeongguk see other women when you’re not around? Does he ever tell you that you’re pretty just for the performance of being a married couple? Has everything he said in the past few weeks been an act? Surely, you don’t know everything about this man, but would he ever lie to you? You bite the inside of your cheek as you anxiously pick on the skin around your nails, thinking about her advice. 

Seemingly, Jeongguk doesn’t know what the conversation is about. But he doesn’t need to be familiar with the details to know that you’re growing anxious. He can see it from the way you fiddle with your hands. From the way you furrow your brows and chew on your lips. From down the hall, he can pick up on your breathing. He can practically hear the hurricane of thoughts swirling around your head.

Before you can drown in your thoughts, Jeongguk makes his way over to you, nursing a glass of champagne in his hand. “Hi, angel.” He whispers against your jaw. His cheeks are flushed pink as his head rests against the crook of your neck, slotting together like two pieces of a puzzle. “Do you want to get out of here? You can stay over at my place tonight if you want,” he offers.  

“What’s wrong? Does it hurt?” You shift your gaze to the gash on his brow. Even when you don’t feel your best, you’re still concerned for those around you. That’s just the person you are. You’re so used to giving yourself away. 

“Kind of,” he says. But it hurts more knowing that you’re not okay. 

You ruffle your hands through his hair, trying to soothe his ache. “Do you want your painkillers?”

“Just want you.” His deep voice rumbles against your collarbone as he presses a shy kiss to your shoulder. “Come on, let’s go home.” He gently grabs your hand in his and leads you out the front door. You don’t even have a chance to say goodbye to all the guests. Quite frankly, you don’t even care. 

The moment you return to Jeongguk’s apartment, you dart to the medicine cabinet, filling a glass of water and instructing him to swallow the morphine pill. To soothe the pain, you apply some ointment onto his injury and gently blow on his gash, hoping that it doesn’t leave a scar to mar his beautiful face. But you avoid eye contact with him as much as you can. All while Jeongguk stares at your pretty lips and your glittery eyes. You look so cute when you’re concerned. A pout rests on your face, and he wants nothing more than to kiss it better. 

But then you bid him goodnight, rushing into the guest room, pacing back and forth behind closed doors. 

Jeongguk sits in the living room, stunned, wondering if he’s done something wrong. Whether his breath smells, or maybe he’s come on too strong. Is it obvious how much he cares for you? Yet a part of him wants you to know, even if you don’t reciprocate. To love you so freely is enough for him. 

For you, the problem is not Jeongguk. It’s the fact that you can’t stop thinking about the conversation from earlier in the night. Yumi’s voice echoes through your thoughts. All men have needs. If they aren’t met, then he might break up with you and look for satisfaction elsewhere.

A part of you needs Jeongguk to tell you that this isn’t true. Your heart and mind may not be able to rest otherwise. So for the sake of your fake relationship, you put on a brave face and patter down the hall to his room. 

…

The soft knock on Jeongguk’s door draws his attention away from the vanity. As soon as he tells you to come in, you hesitantly enter his bedroom. 

His back is turned as he faces the mirror, heedlessly applying his skincare. “What’s up? Do you need anything?” He spins around to meet you with curiosity written on his face. 

You catch a glimpse of his exposed chest, and your cheeks heats up in recognition. The top three buttons of his shirt are undone, seeing that he’s getting ready for bed. He removes his rings and the silver watch from his wrist. 

“Sorry, I- I didn’t know you were indecent.” You turn your head away, avoiding his strong build ー the biceps that bulge beneath his shirt and the muscles that flex with every movement. Your hand shoots up to hide your face in embarrassment. 

He finds it adorable how flustered you get upon seeing a little bit of skin. Still, he makes no effort to button up his shirt. Because that’s all that it is ー just skin. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, and your eyes flicker to the floor as if the rug is the most interesting thing in the world. “Can we talk about something?” 

“Talk?” He approaches the bed, patting the spot beside him. “Come here, what do you want to talk about?” 

You perch yourself onto the mattress bouncing up and down from the weight of the springs. Jeongguk sidles closer to you. His knees knock against yours. He smells like jasmine and musk, and it’s divine. 

“At the party, the girls were talking about relationships,” you begin.  

He hums with a nod, attentive as ever. Jeongguk looks at you as if you’re the only person in the world, but you don’t seem to notice, too preoccupied with anything else but the intensity of his eyes. 

“What did they say?” He wonders, readjusting your necklace so the pendant sits pretty on your neck. 

“Y’know.” You tug on your fingers, finding something to fiddle with. “The usual stuff.”

He reaches for your hands, instantly halting your movements. Soothing your nerves, he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He knows that you must have mustered a lot of courage to come over and bring this up. “Angel, you have to use your words if you want to tell me what’s on your mind.” 

You grow bashful under his touch, but that’s exactly the problem. “They talked about stuff like this.” You squeeze his palms for emphasis. “Holding hands. Touching. Skinship.” You mumble the last part, too shy to say it out loud: “Kissing.” Turning your cheek towards him, you murmur an apology. “Sorry. You make me nervous.” 

Jeongguk doesn’t fail to notice the way your tongue licks the plump of your lips or the way your throat constricts after swallowing a trace of spit. “Nervous? C’mere- look at me.” 

His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine. It’s authoritative, and you can’t help but follow his orders. 

“I’m not familiar with being this close to someone,” you motion at the lack of space between his body and yours. “I wouldn’t want you to be upset with me if I’m not very affectionate.” 

“Angel, I’d never be upset with you. We can do whatever you want at your own pace.”

“Are you sure you’d never leave me if-”

Jeongguk stops your train of thought before allowing your mind to wander to a dark place. His voice hardens upon hearing such a suggestion. “I never want to even think about that possibility because I’m not letting you go. I’m yours no matter what. You’ll actually have to fight me if you want to push me away. Even then, I’d crawl right back to you.” He truly means every single word that he utters. 

There’s a hint of a smile on your lips. “Sorry. Intimacy is really scary for me,” you confess, hesitating. Jeongguk gives you another moment to collect your thoughts. He’d give you as long as you need, even if it’s a lifetime and all the stars in the night sky have burnt out. 

“But another reason I want to talk to you is because I’m concerned this won’t come across as a real marriage if we’re physically distant, y’know? The girls said that it’s normal for couples to be… intimate.”

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything, at least not immediately. He doesn’t react. His eyes are distracted by your mouth ー the way your gloss clings onto your lips and the way it moves so languidly with every word you articulate. 

“Jeongguk- Love?”

The sound of his name never really meant much to him. After all, it’s just an alias. Yet nothing sets him aflame more than the claim that you have on him ー the way that your lips purse when you call him your love.

“I know this sounds silly-” you begin. 

He shakes his head, brows furrowed, effectively wiping away all of your insecurities. “Never.” 

A naive grin spreads across your face. How could you be so foolish to believe that Jeongguk would make you feel anything less than important? Time and time again, he makes you feel heard. He makes you feel seen.

“Go on,” he urges. “Tell me.” 

“Well, I read an article about how looking into your partner’s eyes for a long period of time increases intimacy. It also builds trust and helps to recognize emotion.” It’s ironic how you explain all of this while avoiding his eyes. Instead, you keep them trained on the scar sitting pretty and kissable on his cheek. 

A dimpled smile spreads across Jeongguk’s face. “Okay, we can try,” he agrees. He reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and you think you might pass away. “But angel, you have to face me if we’re going to do this. I want you to be comfortable.” 

“Right, yeah,” you mumble. “Of course.” Shuffling from the edge of the bed, you turn to face your husband. You tuck your feet beneath your butt and sit on your knees.

“Relax, okay? There’s no need to be nervous around me.” His voice is reassuring. It’s heartwarming. 

You nod your head as you will yourself to meet his gaze. “I can do this. I can do this,” you think to yourself. 

Jeongguk’s pupils glimmer in the lowlight, warm and comforting, and you wonder how anyone could be so handsome. You try to focus on the task at hand, but it’s difficult when he, himself, is so distracting. There’s a beauty mark on his cheek. His jaw. His nose. Beneath his lip. You could trace them all day and night, if only he’d let you. 

Jeongguk’s deep voice cuts through the night. “Is there anything else that you want to try?” 

“M- maybe we could hold hands?” 

“We’ve held hands before.” He laces his fingers between yours so effortlessly, his hand engulfing. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. 

“Does it still make you nervous?” He wonders. 

“A little bit,” you glance at how small your hand looks in his. “But I can get used to it.” 

“Can I suggest something?” 

You nod, agreeing. “Anything.” 

He tilts his head to the side, raising a brow, unconvinced. “Anything? Are you sure?” 

You nod with more confidence. “I’ll tell you if I don’t like it.” 

“Then can I hold you?”

You hesitate for a second, unsure of what that entails. A beat goes by when Jeongguk is prepared to tell you that you’re free to say no. But you wipe that thought away, giving him your full consent.

Not a second passes by before he wraps his tattooed arms around your waist, tugging you onto his lap. Your thighs rest on either side of his hips, straddling him.

A squeak ー a fucking squeak. God, how much cuter can you get? ー slips past your lips. They’re swollen from how you nervously tug on the flesh, tethering it between your teeth. 

“Does this feel better?” There’s a sense of longing that drips from Jeongguk’s honeyed voice. 

“It’s… nice.” Your brain is on the verge of malfunctioning and shutting down upon feeling the heat of his skin against yours. “Better.” Your voice is breathy. It’s self preservation. You exhale deeply in an attempt to calm the flutter of your heart. 

To keep yourself occupied, you trace your fingers across your bare thighs, unsure of what to do with them. Jeongguk had let go of your hands in favor of holding your hips. So you play with the hem of your dress that’s currently riding up your legs. Suddenly, you’re very aware of how little you’re wearing. How your skin is burning beneath his fingertips. 

Jeongguk’s body is radiating, and you can feel the heat between your legs grow, the dampness in your underwear spreading. 

“You can touch me if you want,” he offers. 

You’re not as confident as Jeongguk, but oh, how you wish you were. 

“Do you want to?” He senses your hesitation, yet you nod your head, affirming.

“I do,” you bite the inside of your cheek. “I want to touch you- feel you.” 

Jeongguk wraps his fingers around your wrists, bringing your hands to rest on his broad shoulders. They’re muscular beneath your touch. You curse yourself for letting your mind wander and for letting your panties soak with arousal ー neither of which you can control. 

Somehow, you resist the urge to look down at his physique. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to the elbows, revealing his strong forearms, adorned by the dark tattoos that coil up his muscles. Your gaze darts across his features, struggling to focus on the starlight in his eyes. You switch between the edge of his jaw, the dip of his neck, and the plump of his lips. 

“My eyes are up here, angel.” The corner of his mouth draws into a smile ー so bright and devastatingly beautiful. He hooks a gentle hand beneath your chin, guiding you to meet his stare. “Tell me what you’re thinking about. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” 

Your voice is soft, just barely above a whisper. It’s nearly inaudible. “Thinking about what it would be like to kiss you.” 

The innocence of your words makes Jeongguk blush. He’s never been the type to be so easily affected. After all, he’s the bold one in the relationship ー confident, decisive, dominant. But you make him weak in the knees.

“You don’t have to ask permission to kiss me.” Jeongguk inches closer, considerate hands squeezing around your waist. “You’re my wife.” 

Why does the thought of belonging to Jeongguk make your heart stutter? You’re certain that this is nothing but pretend, yet the only thing that makes you believe this could be real is the soothing circles that Jeongguk draws onto your skin. He’s present. He’s willing. His lips are right there, right in front of you. You could take the leap of faith and close the distance, leaning forward to kiss him. 

So you do. 

When your lips meet, it’s as if the rest of the world has gone silent. Time has stopped, and nothing else matters but the two of you at this moment. 

His lips are pillowy soft against yours. He tastes like champagne and mint. He’s gentle, only applying as much pressure as you do. You melt into his touch, feeling featherlight in his hold. His hands grip your waist so delicately, with love and intention, as if you are the most precious thing in his eyes. 

You pull apart to catch your breath, allowing the air to fill your lungs, regretfully so. If you were to drown, you would want to drown in Jeon Jeongguk. Your eyes flutter open, but you can’t seem to look at anything but his cherry lips. 

“Love…” The term of endearment leaves your lips in a pant, and he grows harder beneath you. “This is going to sound so embarrassing…” Your voice trails off as the heat engulfs your entire body. Your head lowers, feeling self-conscious of your actions. 

Jeongguk nuzzles his nose against your neck as he presses tender kisses on your collarbone. “What is it? You can tell me anything.” 

Your fingernails dig into his strong shoulders, squeezing his taut muscles as you muster the courage to tell him the truth. “That was my first kiss.” 

He peers up at you from beneath his long eyelashes. “That’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Jeongguk shakes his head, squeezing your waist with reassurance. 

Your eyes are half lidded as you murmur a quiet confession, “I want to kiss you again.” Normally, you wouldn’t dare to be so bold, but you feel drunk on his taste.

“You can do whatever you want to me.” Jeongguk draws you closer, dragging your core onto the apex of his thighs, thick and sturdy. “I like anything that you like. Kissing you. Holding you. Just looking at you,” he shrugs. “And if it wasn’t obvious enough… I like you.” 

Jeon Jeongguk makes you absolutely breathless. “Ar- are we still pretending?” 

“Never.” Leaning forward, he brushes his mouth against yours. “I have never once pretended with you.” 

You kiss him back with more fervor, desperate and wanting. You’re more confident now, fully knowing that Jeongguk wants this as much as you do. 

“When you said I could do whatever…” You pull back, thinking about Jeongguk’s previous statement.

He nods his head with the most innocent beam on his face. “I mean it.”

God, you feel like such a pervert. You’ve shared your first kiss with him, something so sweet and innocent. Why couldn’t that be enough for you? You’re sitting on his lap, feeling the broad planes of his chest, and you can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to do more. To feel more. 

You’re ridden with guilt, drowning in your own arousal, but Jeongguk is so kind. He’s understanding. He’s staring at you as if you’re his whole world. He would never dare to objectify you because he’s a gentleman. But… What if you want him to? 

“The girls at the party were also talking about…” Your words begin to trail. 

“About what?” You subconsciously trace circles onto his shoulders, distracting yourself from the conversation, not knowing that Jeongguk’s eyes flutter close because he adores the drag of your nails and the subtle warmth of your fingertips. 

“About… doing it.” Your words come out in a hushed whisper. It feels too inappropriate to say it out loud. Yet you don’t dare to mention how your panties are absolutely ruined. 

“Angel, what did we talk about?” His lips press against your shoulder, at any inch of skin that he can reach. “You have to be more specific.”

Jeongguk has never once made you feel ashamed or embarrassed. He has never laughed at you or told you that you’re being silly. So why is it so difficult to tell him that you want him ー Need him? 

You take the leap of faith because this is your partner ー in life, in death, and in crime. This is Jeongguk. Your one and only lover who never fails to remind you that you are the strongest woman in the world. He who delivers nutritious lunch boxes to you and tucks cute notes into the lid because he knows that they make you smile. Jeon Jeongguk who massages the knots out of your shoulders after a secret night of combat. He who gets pouty when you call him anything other than ‘love.’

There’s no need to hide anything from this man. He’s your home, just as you are his.

“They talked about sex… You know… making love. ” The crude word sounds so wrong leaving your lips. So out of place. It’s dirty, and it’s naughty. “They said all couples do it, but we’ve never…” 

“Do you want to do it because you want to, or is it because your friends told you to?” Jeongguk searches your eyes for clarification. “Because if you feel pressured when you’re not ready-”

“No! I do!” You cling onto his shirt with more urgency. “I want to do it ー with you. I trust you.” You lean closer, brushing your lips against his ear. “You’re my husband.” 

Jeongguk groans at the sound of your words. At the way your fingernails scratch down his chest. At the way you sit so pretty and perfect on top of his lap, pressing your weight into his erection. 

He gulps as if this is the first time he’s ever been nervous in his life. “Why don’t you take off my shirt?” 

“C- can I?” you stutter. 

“Like I said, you can do whatever you want to me. You’re my wife, and I’m yours.” He presses his lips against your brow. “Yours to hold. To kiss. To love.” He kisses your nose. Your chin. Your jaw. He tucks your hair behind your ears and whispers. “I’m yours to make love to.” 

With trembling fingers, you reach for the button that barely holds Jeongguk’s shirt together. 

His hand engulfs yours. “Don’t forget to breathe, in and out, okay?” Jeongguk, patient as ever, waits for your respiration to steady. “You’re safe with me. If you want to stop, just say the word.” 

With each button undone, his shirt falls apart, revealing Jeongguk’s toned abs. As glorious as he is, your eyes are drawn to the scar on the side of his stomach, barely covered by the fabric that hangs off his back. The scar is jagged, and the skin is raised, the tissue is puckered at the edges. 

“Wha- what happened here?” Your fingertips reach down to trace over the scar, but before you make contact, you pull away. 

“You can touch it-” Jeongguk reaffirms. “Wherever you want. I’m yours.” 

Jeongguk’s breath hitches in his throat when your cold hands lightly graze the rough texture, feeling the ghost of his past. But he knows how you’ll respect his boundaries no matter what, and he relaxes, fully knowing that you’ll take care of him. 

“I had surgery when I was younger.” Jeongguk lies. “They took out my appendix.” 

Your brows furrow. There’s no reason not to believe him, but why is the scar so jagged and uneven? Certain parts are wider than others as if the surgeon had twisted a large blade into his abdomen, and not simply sliced to gain access to his organs. 

As usual, Jeongguk can read the concern written on your face. “It’s okay, it didn’t hurt much.” The curve of his lips settle into a warm and reassuring smile. “I promise.” 

Jeongguk doesn’t express any discomfort about his scar, yet you can’t help but wonder what kind of horrors he had to live through. 

To ease your mind, Jeongguk pulls you into his body and presses his hands beneath your thighs. 

A yelp escapes from your lips as he lifts you up. You’re chest to chest with him, legs wrapping around his waist. He presses your back down to the mattress, settling your head onto one of the pillows at the bedpost. 

He hovers above you, a hair's breadth away. 

“Hi,” he whispers against your lips. “You look so stunning.”

You grow shy with all the attention that Jeongguk feeds you. “Hi,” you whisper back. Your legs wrap tighter around his waist. 

“Can I take this off?” Jeongguk glides a finger beneath the strap of your dress.

There’s a rush in your head, feeling dizzy upon nodding your head with so much vigor. 

His lips pair with yours in a quick kiss before calling you a good girl. He shifts his weight off of you so that he can tug you into an upright position and peel the dress off. 

Jeongguk’s eyes widen at your bare chest, having omitted a bra so as to not ruin the outfit. His throat goes dry, and he’s having trouble forming words in his head. You’ve never seen him so speechless. 

Subconsciously, you raise your arms to cover your chest. 

“No, no, no, don’t do that.” Jeongguk wraps his fingers around your wrists, pressing a smooch to your delicate skin. “You’re so pretty like this. Don’t ever hide from me, okay?” 

His words make you shiver. Having someone dote on you as much as Jeongguk is something you’re not used to. But that’s exactly why you’re here, right? So you nod your head and let him pin your hands to the mattress before leading a trail of kisses down your body.

Curious fingers speak freely against your skin, exploring every inch of you. He takes note of every gasp, giggle, and moan that escapes your lips. He presses his swollen lips to your sensitive spots until you keen louder for him, desperately begging for more. His lips wrap around your nipple, sucking on the bud until you whimper. He’s a drooling mess over your tits as he leaves a trail of saliva, marking your skin and claiming you as his. 

Jeongguk furthers his descent down your tummy, placing sweet kisses against the waistband of your panties. He reaches down to feel the leather strap around your upper thigh. It’s the holster that you use to sheathe your knife, and thank God you disarmed before stepping into Jeongguk’s bedroom. 

“I use it to hold my pepper spray,” you murmur a half-ass excuse. “Some of my clothes have shallow pockets.” 

Jeongguk smiles against your skin as he ghosts his lips against your soft thighs. He doesn’t think much of it, but he does think it’s really hot. So he doesn’t bother to unstrap as he continues to worship your body. 

What catches his attention is not the way you’ve soaked through your underwear, as arousing as it is. But rather, he’s intrigued by the faint mark on the outside of your thigh. It’s not a regular, old scar. To Jeongguk, it’s oddly familiar because it’s what appears to be an old bullet wound. 

Jeongguk stutters in disbelief, eyes wide. “What’s this? W- were you sho-” He tries to mentally collect himself as he settles on a choice of words. “Were you hurt? Who hurt you?”

You look down, noticing the circular scar on your outer thigh before shaking it off. “It’s nothing. It was from an injection.” 

“Are you sure? It looks li- It looked serious.” His voice trembles with concern, hands fisting at his sides. 

You pull him up by the collar of his undone shirt, hanging off his broad shoulders. Your lips meet his in a delicate, comforting kiss. Jeongguk visibly relaxes in your hold.  

“I’m fine, really. I just want you.” You claw his shoulders in an attempt to peel the rest of the fabric off. 

Jeongguk sighs, trying to forget about what he had seen. But he’s certain that his mind will wander back to the scar at another point in time. He strips the shirt off his back, carelessly tossing the fabric onto the floor. 

Jeon Jeongguk is mesmerizing. You’ve never seen the entirety of his sleeve, but there it is, in all its glory. There’s a faint beauty mark on his chest, one that you did not account for when tracing all of the scars and marks on his upper body. 

“Tell me you want me,” his breath is hot and heavy against yours. 

Subconsciously, you clench at the sound of his words. “Guk- I want you more than anything.” Your hands float down to the buckle of his jeans as you unclasp the button. “You’re wearing too much. Take it off.” The plea that falls from your lips is breathy and desperate. 

“Fuck-” Jeongguk curses, trying to restrain himself.

Jeongguk has slept with plenty of women before, but never like this. He’s always had one night stands with an ulterior motive, whether it is for leverage or intel or for the sole purpose of converting an innocent woman into a whistleblower. He’s fucked with media journalists, cabinet members, and even the wives of politicians. He isn’t proud of it, but women, just like everyone else, are more likely to say things they don’t mean when their desires are fulfilled. They’re willing to trust him and spill their secrets when they’re lost in the throes of pleasure ー when he hands over his lust and his attention. It’s transactional. 

Jeongguk has always thought that love is cheap. But not with you. 

With you, Jeongguk has the innate need to take his time. He wants to show you what it means to make love. 

He hooks his hand beneath your panties, pulling them down your legs. There’s a string of arousal that breaks when he tugs the fabric off. It’s absolutely soaked in your arousal. Jeongguk’s lips press against every inch of your skin, leaving no spot untouched. 

You shudder when his hot breath meets your inner thighs, threatening to close them. He wraps his thick arms around your legs, digging his fingers into your hips, pinning you to the mattress. 

He keeps his eyes trained on your face as you tremble beneath his touch. He kitten licks your clit, careful as to not overwhelm you. But you quickly melt into the pillows, gripping his hair between your fingers.

Jeongguk wants to commit this to memory. The way that you look so angelic in this light. 

Quiet whimpers escape from your parted lips. “You don’t have to hold back,” he reminds you. “Be as loud as you want. Nobody’s home. We have all the time in the world, and I want you to feel good.” 

He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking softly on the bundle of nerves until you’re writhing against his mouth. Soon enough, you grind your hips, practically riding his face like a needy slut, desperate and wanting. 

The moans slip out of your mouth freely, and Jeongguk grows harder at how pretty you are, lost in pleasure. He begins to rut his hips against the mattress, seeking some kind of relief for his aching cock. 

His tongue slips between your walls, licking up the arousal that seeps down your thighs. His chin is coated in your wetness, and he’s utterly obsessed with your taste. 

Your nails dig into his hair, pulling on the roots. He elicits a moan against your core, and you’re muttering apologies, “sorry, ‘m sorry.” Yet you continue to grind your cunt against his tongue, proving that you’re not sorry at all.  

Your grip loosens, but Jeongguk whines at the loss of tension. “Feels good, angel, don’t stop.” 

He quickly grabs your hands and places them on the top of his head, encouraging you to tug as hard as you want. He’s obsessed with your taste, but he’s also addicted to the pain that you inflict on him. 

He dips his tongue between your walls, reaching as far as he can go. He smiles against your core as if he’s the one enjoying himself ー and truly, he is. He can’t get enough of you. Jeongguk loves to bury his face into your sweet pussy, making out with your cunt. His chin is doused in your essence, and he wants more. He needs to see you dripping in cum so he can taste you straight from the source. 

“Guk, it feels weird,” you choke on your words, pressing your hands against your tummy. The tears cascade down your cheeks as your high builds in the pit of your stomach.

“Shh, shh, angel,” he hushes before dropping a thick glob of spit onto your entrance. He can’t believe that you’ve never come in your life. Have you never played with your cute little cunt before? 

Jeongguk laps your clit while he works a finger into you, gliding between your tight walls. He pushes another one in, watching you stretch around his digits. In the back of his mind, he wonders how you’ll be able to take his cock when you can hardly take his fingers. He curls them inside of you, slowly adding a third. 

You will yourself to pick your head up, allowing your gaze to meet his. The sight before you is filthy beyond belief. You can’t believe that Jeongguk is making out with your naughty pussy, and you love it. His fingers are gliding inside of you, reaching places you’ve never reached before. He’s humping the mattress, trying to satiate his throbbing cock that’s leaking through his boxers. 

“Guk- love, I-”

“Just let go. Come for me,” his husky voice vibrates against your cunt. 

At the sound of his command, you unravel on his tongue, shuddering beneath his strong hold. Your cunt pulses as waves of pleasure rip through you. Soft moans flow through your parted lips, and it’s suddenly Jeongguk’s new favorite melody. 

He watches you fall apart with hearts in his eyes. His hands wrap around your thighs, holding you in place as he fucks you through your climax. You’ve never felt a sensation this strong before. It doesn’t even compare when you’re high on adrenaline. 

Yet Jeongguk laps your pussy as if he’s a puppy, so eager to please you as he collects all of your cum on his tongue. He wants you as much as you’ll allow. Before the overstimulation sets in, you have to weakly tap his shoulder, pushing him away as your thighs close around his head. 

He presses a smooch to your clit before finally pulling back. “How did that feel?” 

“Never felt anything like that before,” you gasp, trying to catch your breath. “C- can you show me how to touch you too?” The innocent look in your eyes drives him absolutely mad. “Wanna make you feel good.” You palm him through his boxers, and he groans at your touch. 

Fuck. “Tonight’s about you, angel.” Jeongguk curses at himself because you look so pretty batting your eyelashes at him. You’re practically begging to suck him off, and he can’t bring himself to say yes. Your hands dip beneath his underwear, gliding your hands up and down his throbbing cock. 

Jeongguk thinks that he might be in heaven. “Aren’t you too tired? I’ve already made you come once.” 

But you shake your head, “I want more, please? I can take it. Will you please give it to me?”

“I- I don’t have a condom,” he confesses. 

“Don’t care, I need you.” Your hands roam across the planes of his chest before settling on the back of his neck. You pull him closer until your lips brush against his. “Need you so bad…” You subconsciously roll your hips, grinding your bare cunt against his thigh, pleading ー begging for him to sink his cock inside of you to relieve the ache. “It hurts,” you murmur. 

What else is Jeongguk supposed to do when his baby is aching, begging and pleading for his help? So he pulls his cock out of his boxers, tossing the offensive material out of the way. Your mouth waters as your eyes meet his length. 

“It’s not gonna fit,” you shake your head. Surely, he could split you open with his sheer girth. “You’re too big.”

Jeongguk wraps his hand around his length, jerking himself off before pressing the length of his thick cock onto your stomach, measuring how deep he could possibly go. The pretty tip rests against your belly button. Jeon Jeongguk could actually break you, and you would let him. 

“Are you sure you want to do this? We can stop-” 

You shake your head with desperate vigor, and your imploring hands reach for his broad shoulders. “Just- just go slow, okay?”

Jeongguk pairs his lips with yours in a sweet kiss, “I’ll take care of you. I promise.” He releases a thick glob of spit onto your cunt before rubbing the tip of his cock against your core, spreading the sloppy mess across your mound. He drags his tip against your lips before slowly pushing into your soaked cunt. 

You gasp upon feeling the intrusion, squeezing your eyes shut. 

Jeongguk nibbles the column of your neck, whispering quiet praises against your skin to distract you from the discomfort. He looks down to see barely half of his length tucked inside of you, yet your walls are stretched to accommodate him. At the pit of your stomach, there’s a bulge where the tip of his cock prods against your cunt. It protrudes against your tummy, leaving an indentation. He can quite literally watch his dick plow into you.

“Angel, look at how well you take me,” he groans. 

You will yourself to open your eyes, seeing how he stuffs you to the brim. The visual is so filthy. 

“God, I’ve been dreaming of this.” Jeongguk drops another glob of spit where his length meets your cunt, allowing the glide to be more effortless. The way that your pretty pussy struggles to make room for him is the hottest thing he’s ever seen. His eyes roll back as he squeezes your waist, trying to regain an ounce of composure. 

“You’ve been thinking about this? About us?” You clench upon hearing his deepest desires. 

He curses under his breath, not knowing how much longer he’d last if you’re already this tight wrapped around his cock. “You have no idea-” When he rests his head against your shoulder, panting, another inch sinks inside of you. “Sorry, ‘m sorry. You just feel so fucking good.” 

His rough hands wander across your body, mapping every inch of your skin, committing it to memory. Jeongguk taps his fingers against your lips as he requests you to ‘open up.’ As obedient as you are, you part your lips, allowing him to slip his digits inside.

“Suck on my fingers,” he coos as he pushes himself further into your sweet pussy. “That’s my good girl.” He pulls his calloused fingers out of your mouth, and they find home onto your clit as he rubs figure eights onto your bundle of nerves. It serves as a distraction from the slight sting of resistance where his cock stretches your walls. 

But for Jeongguk, this feels like heaven. He resists the urge to sheathe himself into your virgin cunt, down to the hilt. “Can’t believe that I get to see you like this.” 

Jeongguk seriously can’t believe how fortunate he is that he’s your first. Nobody has ever touched you the way that Jeongguk does. Nobody will ever fuck you or make you come the way that he will. And certainly, nobody will ever get to see you act like a desperate little slut. You belong to Jeongguk just as he belongs to you. And this is the privilege he gets when you’re his wife. 

You watch his face twist in concentration as he works himself into you. His biceps bulge, and his skin dimples beneath the pressure of your fingers when you squeeze his arm. They feel so rock solid beneath your touch. So strong and so, so reliable like the Jeongguk you know and love. You whimper simply because he’s hot, and you could never resist him. 

“S- something wrong?” He stills his hips inside of you, and his cock pulses. 

“N- no,” you whine, shaking your head. “Just wanna hold your hand.” You scratch down his biceps as you paw at his chest. Even when he’s buried inside of you, it’s still not enough. You need him, and you need all of him. 

He grabs both of your hands, softly squeezing them as he pins them on either side of your head. Jeongguk cages you against the mattress as he presses his body weight against yours, plunging his cock deeper and deeper between your walls, inch by inch. 

Your chest heaves when his hips press against yours, completely buried inside of you, and a silent cry slips past your lips. Tears begin to form in the corner of your eyes. 

“Just breathe for me, angel, okay? Relax, ease up for me. I know it’s uncomfortable now, but you’ll feel so good, I swear.”

You nod your head, and you can’t help but cry. You just feel so full. Two twin tears trail down your cheeks, and Jeongguk is quick to kiss them away.

He soothes his thumb over the back of your hand as he praises you. “You’re doing so well for me. Such a good girl. You can take it, right? You can take it all for me.” 

You nod your head, letting the tears fall down like summer rain. “I can take it, I swear-” You sound so choked up, and it’s probably due to the fact that Jeongguk is so fucking deep, you can practically feel him in your throat. 

“Move, please, I need you so bad.” The broken sob rips out of your throat as you cry in desperation.

He pulls out with a shallow thrust, wanting to be as close to you as possible. Looking down, he can see where his cock fucks into you, where there’s a bulge that shadows every single one of his thrusts. He takes your hand down to rub over the protrusion. 

“Can you feel me? Right here?” He quickly slides out of you before pressing his hips flush against yours in one swift motion. 

A deep groan rumbles through his chest, sending a deep vibration through your body. His breath is hot against your lips, and you can actually feel him in your tummy. You can feel him everywhere. 

“How’s it, angel?” 

“Feels full-” you manage to choke the words out of your mouth. 

“Too much?” Jeongguk asks. His breath is shaky as he plows his hips against yours. His cock twitches inside of you, and he really doesn’t want to pull out. But if you had asked, he wouldn’t hesitate to do so. 

Thank God for your insatiability because you shake your head as you bring your intertwined hand to your lips, pressing a kiss to his skin. “Feels good- keep going, please,” you beg. 

“See? I knew you could take it like a good girl.” 

Soon enough, the discomfort subsides, and all you can feel is pleasure in the pit of your stomach. Jeongguk fucks into you until he bottoms out, prodding at the spot that has you seeing stars. Your eyes begin to cross, obsessed with the way he fills you up, turning you into a stuttering mess. 

“Oh my god, feels s’ good, Guk- Don’t stop,” you cry, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist to keep him close. 

Your mouth falls open and drool begins to slip from the corner of your lips. Jeongguk wedges his tongue into your mouth, swirling your spit and saliva together into one hungry mess. 

He shifts his attention to your sensitive neck as he sucks on the column of your throat. A mark begins to bloom above your collarbone. If anyone were to doubt your marriage and the fact that you belonged to Jeongguk, there would be no reason to do so now. 

The only thing you can focus on is the way that Jeongguk pokes your cervix, and you want nothing more but for him to flood your womb. Your heavy lidded eyes fall shut, your head lolls, and your cheek rests against the pillow. 

But Jeongguk refuses to let you look away. His hand hooks around your jaw, and his fingers dig into your cheek. “Look at me,” he demands. “Want to see you when you come.” He lifts your face off the pillow and presses his lips against yours. 

Jeongguk gives deep and pointed thrusts into your cunt. He grips your hands so tightly, but you welcome the embrace. His hips snap against yours, rutting into your battered hole as you desperately chase your high. 

“‘m sorry, princess, am I too rough?” He mouths against your lips. “Just f- feels so good around me. So tight n’ warm. You’re s’ perfect.” 

You shake your head in desperation. “N- no, I love it-” You love him. “I’m close,” you cry, overwhelmed with emotions. 

“Come for me, angel,” he groans into your ear, pressing kisses against your nose, your cheek, your lips. He squeezes your hands, never letting you go. 

He pounds into you once, twice, three-four times, bullying his cock into you, and you come undone with the rough snap of his hips. You tremble in his arms, feeling this orgasm tenfold compared to the last. Cum begins to seep out of your cunt, drenching Jeongguk’s cock until there’s a ring of cream at the base of his length. 

You tight little cunt clenches around him as if you never want him to leave. He finds it hard to breathe when you look so beautiful, so pretty, and just so cute caged beneath him. As much as he wants to come inside of you and stuff you full, Jeongguk is quick to pull out when he feels his climax approach. He glides his cock against your cunt, rutting against your lips. He paints your stomach with ribbons of white cum, groaning at the lewdness of it all. 

Thoughts of Jeongguk breeding your cunt flashes through your mind ー having him flood you with cum round after round until you can have a happy little family of four. 

Obscene images of you doing this again and again in different positions send your mind racing. You want him to bury himself to the hilt with your knees pinned against your chest. If only he could flood your womb as he holds you by the back of your thighs in a mating press. Maybe you can come when you’re on all fours, on your hands and knees. Or you could take him down your throat as deep as you can go, choking and gagging on his length with saliva dribbling out of your lips. Although you’re certain that you could barely take half of him considering his size and your inexperience. But Jeongguk can teach you, and you can practice night after night until he absolutely ruins you. 

“So much cum,” you murmur, admiring the liquid that rests on your tummy. You swipe your fingers across your stomach before sticking them in your mouth. Jeongguk’s cock twitches at the sight of you so desperate for a taste. 

He presses a kiss to your forehead, “How was it?” 

“Can we do it again?” Your eyes glimmer with wishful thinking. It’s safe to say that you had the best night of your life. 

Jeongguk sputters a laugh, shaking his head. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

He carries you to the bathroom, making sure you use the toilet to prevent UTIs. Meanwhile, he runs a bath for you where he lathers lavender shampoo in your hair and rubs the knots from your sore shoulders, down to your hips and legs. Between soft giggles and splashes of water, you share sweet kisses and loving stares. Before your fingers can prune, Jeongguk lifts you out of the tub and dries you off with a warm towel. 

The two of you tangle beneath the sheets. But before you fall asleep to the sound of one another’s heartbeat, you ask Jeongguk the question that’s been on your mind. 

“I was just wondering… Do you like to be called daddy?” 

His lips meet your forehead before tucking you closer to his chest. “Go to sleep, angel. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” 

Jeongguk, in fact, does like to be called daddy among a plethora of other vulgar words. This vital piece of information is not necessary for the Hwa Yang interview, but you tuck that specific fact into the recesses of your brain for future reference. 

Because the truth is, you don’t have enough time to memorize Jeongguk’s life story. You can save that for another day. The Hwa Yang interview is in less than a week, and you have to save all of your brain space for relevant ー appropriate information. Such as the values of your family and the importance of education in your lives. 

Thankfully, as Jeongguk’s informant, Seokjin managed to snag sample questions that the interviewers are likely to ask: What type of person do you want your child to grow up to be? What is your child’s school experience like thus far? What are some habits you practice to help your child acclimate to the academic rigor of this school? 

So Jeongguk, Minji, and you work tirelessly to come up with the perfect answers that give the impression that you are a family exuding elegance. In the eyes of the admissions director, it basically means that you have to rival the royal family. 

Minji should have interests beyond her plushies and her manhwas, something along the lines of tennis, horseback riding, or crossword puzzles. She has to continue with her studies ー global history, foreign affairs, music theory, and yes, even her sworn enemy, mathematics. At the mere age of five, she should obtain fluency in a second language (which is apparently really impressive if you’re the royal heir to the British empire). 

All of this preparation proves to be handy because at the academy, the board of interviewers ask about Minji’s interests and her hobbies. They want to know what type of learner she is and how she can contribute to the fast paced learning environment. 

Although Minji is exceptional as she is, you can’t help but wonder why a child has to be a prodigy to be deemed as someone worthy of a good education. What’s wrong with simply existing? What’s wrong with being average? Because if the price of being average is being a decent human being, you would rather take your chances at a different school. 

The sound of the headmaster’s voice breaks you out of your reverie. “I want to ask Minji what a typical day in the household looks like.”

She straightens her posture upon hearing her name. “I start the day when eomma wakes me up and helps me get ready for kindergarten. She double checks to make sure my homework and my school supplies are in my bag. She also packs extra clothes for me just in case. Appa makes breakfast in the kitchen, and when we finish eating, they walk me to school-” 

The headmaster crinkles his brows. A look of confusion crosses his features. “Does your father always cook for the family?” 

“Yes, appa usually cooks because eomma works really hard. Sometimes, she comes home with aches and pains because of all the energy she uses.” Minji shifts her gaze to her father, trying to gauge whether her answer is acceptable. Meanwhile, your eyes are filled with concern, worried she’ll somehow expose your criminal history. “But eomma always helps when she can. She goes to the market, and she does the laundry. She also makes tea for appa and hot chocolate for me. She helps me with my homework even if I don’t like fractions.” Minji says the last part in a hushed whisper. 

“Really? Is your mother someone you aspire to be? Despite your father being the one to prepare your meals? It’s rather untraditional.” 

“I don’t believe that question is pertinent to the interview. It’s quite leading,” Jeongguk states. His voice doesn’t falter, but there’s animosity in every breath that he takes. “I can assure you that my wife is a wonderful mother and role model to our daughter. Now may we please refocus our attention on Minji and her academics?” Jeongguk’s eyebrows furrow, and he is seething. He balls his hands into fists, resisting the urge to throw a right hook at the man across the table. 

Instinctually, your fingers inch across the settee, reaching for Jeongguk’s hand in order to soothe his nerves. His shoulders relax upon feeling the heat of your skin as if to quietly remind him that everything is okay. 

“Of course, I apologize.” The headmaster says diplomatically before jotting down a few words into his notebook. He raises his nose in the air as if he’s on some high horse.

The interview persists until the end of the hour, and Jeongguk remains at the edge of his seat. He holds his hand in yours to keep his composure intact. Thankfully, the dean of admissions and the executive advisor have more tasteful questions to ask. 

However, it doesn’t last long. The headmaster intercepts once again. “Mrs. Jeon, I noticed that your documents indicate you are Minji’s stepmother, correct? Do you ever feel some kind of disconnect considering that you are not her biological mother?” 

You’re taken aback by this impromptu question. You didn’t prepare an answer for this, although your natural response would be to wrap your hands around this man’s bare neck, wringing it dry. Yet you remain composed for the sake of Jeongguk and Minji. You can feel Jeongguk hold your hand tighter in his. But you pat his wrist, serving as both a warning and a comforting acknowledgement. 

“I love Minji as a daughter, just as any other mother. To me, it doesn’t matter if she’s not my blood relative. We’ve grown really close ever since we’ve met. I admit that I have never been a mom myself, and I’m faced with a new learning curve every single day. But isn’t that what motherhood is? It’s nothing I’m not used to. Growing up, I raised my younger brother. At work, I take care of children from all different backgrounds. Surely, I make mistakes, but I think every parent leaves a mark on their child no matter what they do. Sometimes it’s a stain. Other times it’s a break, a bend, or a crack. Other parents can splinter their kids, but I hope that I never get to that point. I’m not perfect, but I’m constantly trying to be better. I love Minji more than anything.” 

“So you never feel any sense of inadequacy or resentment?” The headmaster has the audacity to question your parenting skills. 

Jeongguk cannot stand to hear the headmaster criticize you anymore. In a blink of an eye, he slams his fist against the coffee table. The wood splits in half beneath the brute force of his hand, and you’re quite impressed by the display of action. 

“This is wildly inappropriate for an interview. This entire time, you’ve done nothing but berate my wife because we do not have a conventional family. We’re not wealthy people. We work hard for what we do. We take care of one another in a way that only we know and understand. If you can’t accept that, then maybe this is not the school that we want our child to be enrolled in.” Jeongguk’s chest heaves as he says his peace. 

He doesn’t even take another moment to listen to the headmaster. There’s nothing he could say that could warrant forgiveness. So Jeongguk picks up his daughter, and he grabs your hand before storming out of the interview room. 

Jeongguk is going to have a difficult time explaining to his boss why he’s failed his mission.

“I’m sorry I messed up Minji’s chance of going to Hwa Yang.” You tug at the sleeves of your dress as you stare at the floor.

Back at Jeongguk’s apartment, you sink into the couch, allowing the weight of the situation to finally settle. 

Jeongguk rests his hand on your shoulders, turning you so that you can meet his gaze. “You didn’t mess up anything.” His eyes are filled with warmth, but you feel as if you don’t deserve it. 

“We worked so hard for this, and it was all for nothing.” 

There’s still residual rage that flows through his veins. “Nothing? Don’t say that. Don’t you know that I lo-” 

Your heart lurches out of your chest as you stare at him in awe. He loves you? 

Jeongguk’s hands shift to hold your cheeks, running his calloused thumb against the edge of your jaw. He sighs, trying to collect his thoughts. “We have each other, and that’s all that matters at the end of the day, okay? We couldn’t anticipate that they’d be so cruel. I would defend you over anything in this world. So don’t you dare say that this was all for nothing.”

He pulls you into a tight hug, tucking your head beneath his chin. You can hear the sound of his heart beat, beating only for you. It’s distracting enough for you to miss his whispered declaration: “I’m seriously gonna marry you someday.” 

Minji climbs onto the couch, wedging herself between her parents. “If I don’t get accepted, I don’t have to go to school, right?” 

The two of you peel away from the embrace, glaring at Minji, shaking your heads. “No, you have to go,” you simultaneously declare with stern conviction. 

Minji huffs a sigh, looking downcast. But when her stomach grumbles, you effectively put an end to your pity party. You and Jeongguk drop everything, scurrying into the kitchen to prepare dinner for your precious daughter. She worked hard, and she did her very best. You all did. 

…

Tucked away into the busy streets of Seoul, there’s a tiny little apartment on the second story filled with music and laughter. 

While the water boils for the buckwheat noodles, Jeongguk watches over his precious family, reading the instructions for the sauce. All you need is a mixture of perilla oil, cham sauce, buldak sauce, buldak mayo, egg yolk, and a generous amount of furikake. But when you and Minji measure out everything to perfection, you cheer for one another as if you’ve made a meal worthy of praise from the world renown Gordon Ramsey. 

When the noodles are ready, you all gather around the table and laugh to your heart's content. You fill your stomachs with starch, a heavy amount of spice, and plenty of love. You dote on one another, too distracted with the loving family you’ve created to notice anything outside of your little bubble. 

This moment is yours, and yours alone. This is your happy place, and nobody can take it away from you. Not even the sound of the answering machine, echoing from the quaint living room.

“Due to your family’s impressive display of integrity at the institution’s interview, I would like to extend an offer to enroll Jeon Minji into the prestigious Hwa Yang Academy. Congratulations, and we hope to hear from you soon.” 

[itstheghostofmypast]

Burden of Love

Non-idol Choi San x (F)Reader

Son of Hades × Daughter of Aphrodite

Summary: Cursed. Since the day of her birth, she had been cursed, one that was a burden her mother had no interest in catering to, the burden of love.

Genre:Fluff/Angst

Word Count: 2.9K

Est. Read Time: 20 min

Warnings: sexual harassment, mild torture

Rating: Mature

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @san-network

"If you're going to sulk all day, his highness may conclude that you are unhappy here." The butler cleared his throat, placing a cup of tea in front of his queen, turning his head to face her sour expressions, her small little frown and the dent etched between her eyebrows as she read the book in hand -though he ensured to avoid her eyes. She however was busy, busy ignoring the man talking to her, even ignoring the little exaggerated sigh he had let out.

"What are you reading?" He asked, trying to distract his King's wife, his lover, his muse, the shining star of his dark, cold and endless sky, his spoiled brat- No, Yunho, you do not say that about your queen, no matter how childish and petty she may be sometimes. What did he expect? She was the youngest of Aphrodite's children, which did mean that she was in fact, the most babied of the lot, one who had her mother's and almost every other individual's undivided attention- attention and love she was bound to receive, a promise made at birth, or so he had assumed. Though would she give back in equivalence and sincerity? Even his King, he never did expect his king, the ruler of the Underworld, the sole most beloved child of Hades, the powerful ruler of the world below, one of the strongest to exist- to grovel to his knees at the mere sight of this woman- especially when she had refused to even look a him, for he was from the world below, an inferior being, as she had proclaimed- look at her now, sitting in the very world below that she had once insulted-

"Do you think he no longer loves me?"

His eyes snapped up at her face, still avoiding her eyes once more, though he took in a certain look she wore, one that made her beauty stand out even more, the pastels of her off shoulder dress extenuating her graceful features- this woman radiated an air so alluring that perhaps she would leave her mother jealous- was she? Is that why Aphrodite, herself, ensured to take over the marriage proceedings, ensuring her daughter had no way out, ensuring to send her down to hell, to hide her, to ensure her daughter could not outshine her in any manner- she had even refused when his great King had gone running to her, telling her how he never wished to upset her daughter. The first night of their marriage and she had told the son of Hades how she hated him and never wanted this- in an instant he had rushed to Aphrodite to get to the bottom of this, to ask her how she could do something against the wishes of her own child? How could she harm such a being of tenderness, of such beauty, of such purity, only to be brushed off, when his mother in law retorted with,

"She's yours to do as you please, oh, Prince of the underworld do not burden yourself with her childish tantrums, she is but a nymph, who could satisfy you for eternity and more, just take off the blindfold and your worries will vanish."

That night he had come back to the underworld and called upon all his generals and advisors, he had even called in Seonghwa, even though the guardian of the Titans had no real clue of what love was, giving instructions they never thought of receiving, especially for a mere spoiled child of a goddess,

"We must ensure she is never unhappy, my wife should have her every whim dealt with, no matter how childish."

It may have originally been a form of guilt that he was going through, Wooyoung had told Yunho the same, perhaps like all other men, their King had fallen for her beauty, her alluring nature and persona, her flirtatious being, which is why when she had rejected him to face, he must've felt the guilt of forcing her to a commitment she may not have ever wanted- which is why the first of his new wife's request was to have a separate sleeping chamber, one so far away from them that she would barely see his face. He had agreed instantly- guilt, was it not?

However, even after a year of this practice, he had not once been bothered by her increasing demands, but instead had shown nothing but concern, making Yunho stand there for hours in his dimly lit study, asking about his wife;

"Has she eaten?"

"Yes, young Prince."

"Is she well? Have you been feeding her whatever she wants?"

"She is. We have."

"Is she...what about her comfort? Bedding? Clothes? Rugs-"

"She changed the ones in her room to colours that matched her room in Olympus, we did all she asked her for, including getting her a new wardrobe."

"That's good..." he had smiled staring at his father's will, knowing he would be no longer a Prince in a few days, "I want her to be happy, truly happy."

Yunho had wanted to believe in his King's wishes, but he could tell him how this child of Aphrodite had slowly been drifting away, sitting locked up in her room most of the time, only tended to by the female staff- other than Yunho. Yunho was the only man other than San to have interacted with her in the Palace, but unlike his King, he had never met her gaze, the galaxy filled crystal pair of orbs, that stories had been written about, songs had been dedicated to, the eyes of a maiden that held the galaxy within, shining brighter than a sky full of stars, reflecting off one's deepest desires, often lust when it had been a man who had dared to make eye contact- which is why she was to always where a blindfold, one that would often match her attire, though there were occasions in Olymus where she chose not to, but every god and goddess there feared for their life, knowing laying a finger on her meant Aphrodite's wrath.

It was ironic how the first time his King had ever seen her, she was wearing a blindfold, one she had refused to take off during their wedding as well, out of spite or out of fear, the advisor (mind you she just treated him like a butler) was not sure, but he knew that the night she had said all those things, San had taken off her blindfold, admiring her beauty when she had spat at him, using words so harsh, words he had never wished to hear from his wife.

After that night the blindfold had returned, even when the maids would bathe her she would not let them touch it, Yunho knew she would wear it around him, but he never dared to meet her gaze in any case, out of respect? Perhaps...or out of pity. He had been witnessing for a year how she had begun to lose the colour of her cheeks, her lips now often found quirked into a frown, hands often fiddling with the ribbons of her dress, he had wanted to tell his King this, but he had stopped asking about her altogether, especially since she had refused to attend his coronation, even after receiving the title of the Queen. He had stopped asking if she had eaten, if she was well, in fact, he would no longer be interested in the report Yunho would give nightly, only asking if there was something out of the blue that should concern him- but there never was, everything was always the same, or so they had assumed.

For the night that the King had decided to retire early to bed, bidding his generals and his advisor a goodnight, his advisor following suit, asking his King to listen to him about his wife, wanting to tell him about her declining health, though his Lord had turned a deaf ear to him, "I don't want to hear of it Yunho, I'm tired tonight, I don't care if she didn't like dinner tonight just give her what she wants tomorro-" his words had been cut short with an ear piercing scream, one that had had him and his loyal servant bolt to the wing of the castle where his wife stayed.

Yunho had seen almost his fair share of sin and horrid things, the underworld was no place for the light hearted, but what he had not prepared himself for was the sight of his Queen's shivering form, hugging herself as she coward behind a fallen chair, crying and yelling,as she gripped onto the torn end of her dress to cover herself, while across the room a dozen maids were holding onto a foaming, wild eyed -Minister? What had he even been doing down here? How did he get in? Did he catch her without her blindfold? Was he a traitor coming to coerce the Queen for something? Or was he just a curious old fool? Was this because he looked into her eyes, maybe General Jung could beat it out of him- or not, for as soon as his King had entered the brightly lit, pastel coloured room the atmosphere had shifted, the air had thickened and her cries had been muted out by the screams of the minister that had just caught fire, shackled to the the ground, with the molten hot chains that had manifested from the floor of the castle - of course the son of Hades was no soft hearted fool, he knew no ends when it had come to torture. All too soon the burnt man that was still whimpering apologies was tossed out of the window, his scream ending with a loud thud as the King glanced at maids, enough of a gesture for them to scurry out of the room before turning to his wife, walking over to her, like predator to pray, Yunho would have interfered if he were not so deathly afraid of the man, he was unsure of what he was going to do to his mess of a wife, especially when he had crouched down infront of her, gripping her shoulders, which had only led the poor thing to yelp in pain, pleading for her life, whimpering about how she had nothing to do with this, how she did not wish to taint the reputation of the king, how she did not want to be punished-

"LOOK AT ME!"

Her eyes had snapped open meeting not the glare of a tyrant, not the eyes of a lust induced man, but the tender, soft gaze of a loving husband, one that had her calming down, one that Yunho did not expect- for he had realised something, his King had not been lust driven even after staring into her eyes, was this...love?

He knows not what happened after, for he had been instructed by his King to leave him with his wife, all he knows is that next morning he had been tasked by the King to infrom the head of the King's Counsel, Hongjoong, about the implementation of a new law, a new practice, one with grave punishment,

"One must never look at the Queen whilst in her presence, eyes must be cast to the ground while her Majesty is around, for her safety, anyone caught not following this would be tortured in the deepest pit of the Underworld for eternity, by the great General Park."

As soon as this was done, the King had personally overseen the burning ceremony of all her blindfolds, with his Queen standing beside him, hand in hand, only for her to smile up at him, a smile that he knew had led his King to fall for her, a smile he knew she'd use to get away with anything, even making the poor advisor wear a pink suit because she was bored, the smile that was so menacing and-

"Yunho~" she whined, causing him to let out a sigh, "I asked you a question!"

"My Queen, his majesty loves you no lesser than he did yesterday." He bowed, before straightening up, ignoring the way she scoffed and slammed her book shut, tossing it onto the table, truly a brat.

"Then why has he kept me waiting since morning!? I didn't even see him at breakfast!"

"He is a busy man, one who is ever so dutiful and responsible."

"You know...the saying is to "lick it, not make a meal out of it."

Of course, leave it to her to call him a boot-licker, maybe he should retire-

"Careful love, if you keep this up, Yuyu might retire early~" the door opened, as the subject of the matter walked in, with all his might and glory, laughing at the way his wife huffed and looked away, shaking his head at her antics, "Purple looks nice on you...Yunho." He motioned to the suit he was wearing, another one of the Queen's choice.

"Thank you, Sire, may I be excused?"

"Of cours- oh my." He chuckled when the door slammed within a second before turning to face his wife, who was still not looking at him, arms crossed over her chest, cheeks flushed and puffed out in anger- or a tantrum, whichever it may be, it was enough to have him sitting beside her and gently clasping her hands in his, whispering to her, trying to coax her out of it, "My love, the star of my life, why is it that you ignore me? I was but away ensuring I finish all my tasks so I could spend time with you."

"Liar." She huffed, though she never pulled away, even when he had gently gripped her chin, making her turn her head to face him, admiring her even more upclose.

"Never." He whispered, leaning closer to place a soft kiss at the corner of her lips, letting out a hearty laugh at her gasp, catching the surprise in her eyes, his own crinkling with admiration and love as he gave her his signature dimpled smile, before leaning closer once more, their foreheads bumping slightly, "Not once in my life have I lied to you, my love; my soul, my body, my mind, are but at your disposal, all yours to claim."

She only sighed, pouting at his words, pulling her hands out his hold to wrap her arms around his neck, her fingers reaching to twirl a lock of his onyx hair, her other hand gripping his coat, "Prove it."

"Oh? How so?" He mused, letting her play her little game, "Is my seed not proof enough?"

A light hearted chuckle broke past her lips, if it was possible for his heart to grow bigger with joy, it would have, the sound of her laughter ringing in his ears, "I suppose not~" she purred, the instant change of demeanour had him shivering under her warm touch, biting his lip when she gently tugged on his hair pulling him closer, enough for her to have her back pressing against the couch, him hovering above of her as he peered into her eyes, trying to find the constellation that had blessed their union, though when her hand pulled him down ontop of her, he forgot the purpose of his mission, to busy and engrossed by the sweet taste of her lips, the soft warm skin his fingers could feel through the gown, his hand reaching for hers, pinning her wrists above her head as he pressed his forehead against hers, his warm breath mingling with hers, "You naughty little-

"SHE IS WITH CHILD- GET OFF HER!? HAVE YOU NO SHAME!? AND YOU! FINISH YOUR TEA!"

In an instant the two had parted, sitting prim and proper at the two opposite ends of the couch, hands in their lap, the only give away were the dishevelled clothes, their messy hair and the smudged lipstick that was now decorating both of their mouths.

Clearing his throat he looked at his fuming advisor who held onto a notebook, "I-I was going to be gentle, Yunho-"

"SHUT UP. I KNOW HOW GENTLE YOU ARE, YOU MORON."

"Yuyu! That's not how you speak to your king-"

"SILENCE. I admit it's on the early stage but my Lady you must not let this hooligan give into his desires, do not be fooled by his stupid charm." Pinching the bridge of his nose he sighed as he handed the Queen a tissue, "Your health comes first, my lady, " Then he side eyed a flushed San who was staring at his wife wipe away the evidence of their little session, "And you should know that, Sire, her happiness is linked with her health."

When he earned a strong, firm nod from his King he sighed, for the nth time, "I shall prepare dinner and bring it here, for the love of all that is holy, please do not do anything harmful while I'm gone.' He mumbled walking to the door, only to stop, when he heard a giggle, turning around with another lecture ready, but stopped at the sight before him, his heart melting in disgust covered awe, watching her giggle to herself as she cleaned the lipstick off his lips, only for him to playful nip at her finger tips, earning squeals in return- these brats were a handful, he thought to himself, closing the doors of the study as he walked down the hall, a small smile gracing his tired features, glad that his Queen had found all she had been looking for, so afraid of the curse that she would never even say it out loud...love.

A/N: Idk...I just, I had to get this out of my system. I hope yall like it.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @jaehunnyy @spooo00oky @the-kpop-simp @mlysalt

[outsideratheart]

Us (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: I have no idea where this came from but it has been stuck in my head for a few weeks. I hope you guys like it!

You had been in the most important meeting of your career when you received a message.  You never turned your phone off in case there was an emergency but you did put it on do not disturb. The small vibration in your pocket told you 1 of 2 people were trying to get in touch with you. Your manager was in the meeting with you so it only left one person.

I need you, please can you come over.

As far as Alexia was aware you were in England. Your mind went to the worse case scenario because it had to be something bad if she was asking you to get on a plane and fly to Barcelona with no explanation. 

In the politest way possible you excuse yourself from the meeting and leave your future in the safe hands of your manager, who upon seeing your face backs your decision to leave without asking any questions.

A quick text is sent to your girlfriend saying that you are on your way but there’s no response. You try calling only there is no answer. By the time you get to her apartment building you are filled with worry and you waste no time in running up the stairs having no patience to wait for the elevator.

When you knock on the door you are not met by your girlfriend. 

“You’re the lion?” The resemblance was even more striking up close. You had met Alba once or you had at least been in the same room as her.

“Technically I’m a lioness” 

It makes a little more sense now. No one was aware of your relationship and in order to keep the questions at bay you didn’t save each others phone number under a name, instead it was an emoji. Yours was a lion due your national team’s nickname and your on pitch persona. Hers was a crown because she was your queen and known by the fans as La Reina.

“Alba let her in” another woman, Alexia’s mother, guides you through the apartment even though you have been here enough times to know your way around.

“You’re the girl my daughter has been seeing”  

“I am and I will happily introduce myself and answer any questions you may have after I have seen her”

“She’s in the living room. When we came she was crying and she won’t talk to any of us” one of Alexia’s best friends says.

It didn’t look good. Her mother, sister and best friend all at your girlfriends apartment yet she is refusing to talk to any of them

The three woman give you some space as you enter the living room. All of them hoped that you would have more luck at finding out what was wrong.

“Hello you” you crouch down so that you are at her level and without saying a word Alexia wraps her arms around you tightly. The speed of it almost sends you both to the ground but you steady yourself just in time.

Once on the sofa Alexia buries her face in the crook of your neck.

“How are you here?”

“That doesn’t matter. Alexia, what is wrong?”

“They won’t leave me alone. It’s like they are obsessed with my personal life. I’m happy, why isn’t that enough for them? Why do they need to get involved and keep bringing up the past?”

You were at a loss. Yes you were aware of the spotlight that was constantly on Alexia, one was on you as well but you had been dating for almost 2 years now and nobody was the wiser. 

“Who cariño?” Eli asks from the other side of the room. 

“The girls. They think that because Jenni signed for Atleti that we are going to get back together. We finally got back to a good place during the World Cup and no one seems to understand that we are just friends. We are Y/N, I promise nothing is going on” Alexia turns to look at you.

During the World Cup you saw the rumours and they spread quickly given that everyone assumes Alexia is single. At first it bothered you but the two of you talked about it and you realised that you were jealous for no reason. Alexia was your girl and only yours.

“I know” deep down you hated that she was still getting linked to another woman but it wasn’t a threat to your relationship so you let it go.

“They are going to ruin everything. They don’t even know and they are ruining—“

“Alexia, nobody is ruining anything. Let your friends talk. At the end of the day it is me and you”

The three other women in the room watched and listened as you talked Alexia through her panic. You were able to calm her and bring her peace in a moment that was very overwhelming for her.

“But Jenni is—“

“Jenni is your past and that cannot be changed. What have I told you?” You ask your girlfriend.

The woman who is still cuddled into your side mumbles something incoherent and you know she is mumbling because she doesn’t want the other women to know the words you told her during the summer.

“She’s your first love Alexia, I intend to be your last” you kiss the corner of her mouth. 

The sound of awes burst the little bubble that you had formed around you and Alexia. Clearly embarrassed, Alexia once again hides herself. 

Knowing that the two of you can’t ignore the introduction that the women are waiting for, Alexia officially introduces you to Eli, Alba and Miri as her girlfriend. 

“What happens now?” Alexia asks you “Do we tell people? I don’t want our bubble to break, everything is normal with you. We are Y/N and Alexia but when people find out we will be captains, players and rivals”

“Hey, calm down. They will change but we won’t. Do you want to be us normal or what everyone else expects us to be?”

“Us normal”

“Well then I am going to drive you back to your training facility, open the door for you like I always do, I’ll kiss you goodbye and then you’re going to go to work”

Your confidence was reassuring to all in the room.

Alexia tells you that she is going to freshen up in the bathroom which leaves you alone with three of the most important people in her life. Your media training comes in very handy as you are able to answer all of Alba’s and Miri’s questions without hesitation or breaking a sweat. However, Eli’s question catches you off guard.

“You’re the reason why Alexia didn’t come back to the room after the awards show in Dubai aren’t you?”

“Guilty but nothing happened” technically it was the truth, nothing did happen that night “We spent the night in the hotel bar talking then went to the beach to watch the sunrise”

“Can I ask you a question?” Alba says “If you were in England when you received the text would have come?”

“I would have been on the first flight out, yes”

It seemed to enough to please the younger Putellas because she simply nodded her head.

Once Alexia was ready you did as you said. The two of you drove to Joan Camper, Alexia quizzed you the entire car journey because you still hadn’t told her why you were in Barcelona. You open the door for her as expected but what Alexia didn’t expect was you to walk with her into the facility.

“I love that you care but you don’t have to do this for me, I can handle it” 

“Who says I’m doing it for you”

The two of you stop in front of the canteen. It was surrounded by glass windows and you can see the majority of the team eating their lunch.

“Us normal?” You ask Alexia and she nods her head. As you normally would whenever you visited her or she visited you, you kissed her once on the lips and then once on her hairline as she hugged you goodbye.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Alexia asks as you don’t go in the direction of the exit. 

“You asked how I’m here. Well, I have a job interview with your boss” 

[sommerflue-22]

Pretty Boy | Obanai Iguro x Reader

Content Warning: MDNI, graphic depictions of sexual acts, gn!reader, submissive Obanai, dominant reader, foreplay, slight choking, pet names, praise/degradation, creampie, multiple orgasms

Word Count: 0.6k

A/n: in my obanai brainrot era. i wrote this at 5am in the morning, hella deprived of sleep. can't really see him as a dom tbh, obanai is a sub through and through. IN THIS ESSAY I WILL—

──────────────────────────────────────────

Clouded eyes gazed up at you, so dazed and stripped off any common sense. Glistening lips parted, panting, letting out small whimpers. Such a pretty face turning crimson, beads of sweats were forming on his temple. You smirked. How could someone who acts so harsh around other people be so submissive and pliant? Wrapped around your fingers like his life depends on every word you say, every order you give.

You smiled, rather nonchalantly. One of your hand held him across his torso, fingers playing with one of his nipple, as another hand fondled his balls oh so slowly. He arched his back, urging you to touch him more. That wouldn't do. You stopped teasing his nipples, moving your hand up to wrap it around his neck. You put a little bit of pressure on it, causing his eyes to roll back in ecstasy.

"What do you want?" You asked, voice unwavering as your pretty little boytoy sat on your lap, his back against your chest.

No answer. Instead, his turquoise and yellow orbs met yours, teary and desperate.

"Answer me."

He whimpered.

"Fine, if the high and almighty Obanai Iguro won't tell me what he needs..." you retracted both of your hands from his body.

He stopped you, holding both of your hands in his.

You stared down at him. "What the fuck do you want, then? Use your words, pretty boy."

The nickname was enough to send shiver down his spine.

"Want you. Please." He croaked out.

"Where do you want me?"

"Anywhere, please..." Obanai swiftly turned, now straddling you. "Just touch me, please... please..."

You let him hide his face on the crook of your neck as he started grinding down on your thigh. His cock was fully erect, leaking pre-cum.

"I barely even touched you and your pathetic cock's already leaking?" You sneered.

He whined so close to your ear. Oh how you loved teasing him, watching as his arrogant and ruthless persona crumbled down, exposing his true nature: a fucking touch-starved man. What could his colleagues possibly say if they knew how much of a pillow princess he actually was? He knew nothing about how to pleasure you. All he knew was how to moan out your name as you ravaged his body. Though, you let him do that.

Because bringing someone as merciless as Obanai down to his knees was something you took pride in. It's a personal achievement. Nobody could make him beg the way you could. You're determined to rewire his mind, so that he'd worship the ground you walked on.

"Words, pretty boy." You tapped on his waist. "Do you want my mouth? Or do you want me to ride you?"

You were aware of his state, so far gone he couldn't even form a complete, coherent sentence.

"Ride me..."

You immediately pushed him to lay on his back. It's your turn to straddle him, hovering over him as you fingered your hole a little to prep yourself. He watched as you did so.

You smirked, "Like what you see?"

He nodded. You couldn't help but coo a little.

Once you're ready, you positioned his cock under your hole before slowly sinking down. You sighed. Obanai's cock might not be the biggest one you've ever taken, but his surely made you feel so full and stuffed. It's like a taste of heaven, especially when you started moving, emitting shy yet needy moan out of his pretty lips...

...and that's exactly what you did. Bouncing on his cock, letting him moaned out your name repeatedly like a prayer. He might cum inside soon, but don't worry. Just keep using him and you might feel his second and third spurt of cum drip down your thighs later on.

[catboybiologist]

Hi! I’m CatboyBiologist.

Formerly a femboy, now a trans woman just starting HRT, and a PhD student in molecular biology. I started using this online persona as a fun, shitposty way to explore gender a few years ago. I post selfies (generally sfw, but somewhat sexy, so minors and ppl who don’t like that have been warned), rambles about science, tutorials and advice from the stuff I’ve learned by being a femboy in the past, nature pictures, stuff about the ocean, my adorable grumpy little tortoise, and unsolicited opinions on random nerdy topics. Any pronouns are fine. I don’t plan to socially transition for a while, and still present as a man most of the time, so I’m used to whatever you wanna use for me (for now, I’ll update this if that changes). Please send me pictures of your pets or other cute animals in your life!

As a scientist, I’m also documenting my transition! This google sheet will be updated at least monthly. I also have additional metrics I’m keeping to myself, and pictures that go with this, but I’m not sharing them publicly yet. Keep in mind that this is just one person’s experience with HRT, and may not represent universal trends!

Adding a little something here, bc I think it was an interesting bit a writing: if you want to see me respond to a transphobe about what "biologically female" means, here's a thing I wrote about it. CW for transphobia and discussion, obviously.

Also, if any of my measurements look weird, its entirely possible I fucked up. Let me know if anything looks off!

Here’s some of my favorite pre-HRT pictures:

If you want to see more of my pre-HRT selfies, browse the “femboy” tag on my blog!

And as of this writing, I’m only 2 days after the start of HRT, so here’s a picture with my tortoise that’s technically post-HRT (but with 0 time for actual changes):

If you want to see my future post-HRT selfies, browse the “trans selfie” tag on my blog!

Also here's another really cute picture and fanart of my tortoise by @whalesharkcat:

I have affectionately given my tortoise the title of The Grumpus.

I also wrote a couple of tutorials and general vibes about being a femboy before I started HRT:

Sometimes I make shitposts of myself, I don’t take myself too seriously:

This includes the way I came out on tumblr:

And here’s an overly serious, long ramble about trans thoughts and things that I wrote shortly afterwards:

Later addition: Someone asked how I take selfies, so I wrote a quick and dirty guide with some tips on how I do so in response to their ask:

Oh yeah and apparently I was a 196 microcelebrity? I never to thought I was popular enough for that but apparently some people do 🤷‍♀️. So uh, hi 196 tags, I'm abusing you for my pinned post LOL

As for terminology, I personally do think of myself as a “man who is becoming a woman” as opposed to having always been a woman. If that doesn’t resonate with your experience, I totally get that! But that’s why I freely call pre-HRT me a femboy, while still calling post-HRT me a trans woman. I’m also keeping the blog name as CatboyBiologist for the forseeable future, because at this point, Catboy just seems like a gender neutral term to me.

I’m also trying to put together a script for a podcast regarding how studying biology influenced my perspective on sex and gender- lmk if there’s any interest in that! It’s probably gonna be way too long and indulgent but oh well.

So uh. Yeah. I don’t end these types of things well. Byeeeeee

[anonymousbeefriendfanfics]

Dating Lyney

Day #1 of writing for my beloved in an attempt to coerce him into showing up early. Come home, my little magician, I need you!

Please feel free to send me requests for what you want to see next!

Fandom: Genshin Impact Character: Lyney Warnings: Fluff, magic. Some mild spoilers for the Fontaine archon quest. Note: Some people consider Lyney to be a minor, so keep in mind that he's 18+ in this, even though there's no NSFW.

So you wanna date the rizzler huh? You'd better be prepared, because he's the world's biggest flirt. It literally never stops, no matter if you've been together five weeks or five years. He's always going to have something suave to say, always going to keep surprising you with little magic tricks. It's just how he is, especially when he's passionate about something - or someone. You'd best be ready to hear him say he loves you twenty times a day, and you'd better say it back, too, or else he'll get that adorable pout on his face and hit you with the puppy dog eyes. Sometimes you wonder if the man has a serious bone in his entire body or if Lynette inherited them all, but you know him better than that.

Lyney is such a gentleman. He's ridiculously charismatic, but he's also so, so sweet. He'll do anything and everything for you. He pulls out chairs for you, holds your hand while walking - you'll definitely have to stop him from draping his cape across puddles for you like they do in the movies. It's a little cheesy, sure, but it's so endearing with that sweet, lovesick smile on his face, and you can't help but love him more for it.

He's a very observant person. It just comes with the territory. He's trained himself to pick up on the subtlest little details, and while this primarily applies to magic and his work, but it also applies very heavily to you. He notices everything about you, from what you order at restaurants you go to on dates to what color clothing you prefer to wear to the way your tone and expression naturally shift as you talk about different topics. He memorizes you, so much so that he'll surprise you with things you've mentioned once in his presence, or perhaps not at all - he's quite good at putting pieces together and figuring out things behind the scenes, after all. You once asked him if he had the ability to read your mind after he pulled a slice of your favorite cake out of his hat, and he merely laughed and replied, "a magician never reveals his secrets, my dear~"

Speaking of which, his laugh is one of your favorite sounds in the whole world. The little chuckles and laughs peppered throughout his speech are lovely, of course, but you know they're mostly part of the show he plays for the audience. Your true favorite is the way he laughs when you're alone with him, when you say or do something funny or catch him off guard. There's something so magical about it, like you're getting a private glimpse of his beautiful soul. One of your favorite memories is when you got him to laugh so hard he could barely breathe, a genuine smile stretched across his face and a delightful sparkle in his eyes.

During the early part of your relationship, he's very guarded and secretive, despite his open and outgoing persona. Depending on your thoughts about the organization, he might attempt to hide being a Fatuus from you, just because he's terrified of your reaction. He puts a lot of effort into appearing absolutely perfect, because he believes you deserve nothing less than perfection. Even if he is honest about his work, he holds back his innermost feelings and desires for quite some time, continuing to play the part that is required of him. He cares dearly about you, and he's not about to let you go because of a careless misstep on his part.

It takes him some time before he learns to be vulnerable with you. He's so convinced that he always has to be perfect, that he has to be strong for his siblings and for you, and he doesn't allow himself to show any of the negative emotions that haunt him day after day. Slowly but surely, however, you will break that wall down - brick by brick, if you must. He begins to lower his guard when you are alone, to let the mask slip and show his true feelings, even if they aren't glamorous, even if he hates them. Once he trusts you enough to show you the truth that he hides from even his siblings, your relationship grows even closer.

Writing Masterlist 🐝 Requests Open! Tag List 🐝 @mossmosis

[prettyoatmeal]

konig dating headcannons?

König Headcanons While You're Dating

YES!!!! I was actually just working on them before you'd asked this so I'm glad I could quickly finish this up in time to send a reply. I'm the biggest König fangirl so I already had this sitting in my drafts for a bit.

Just like the last one, there will be SFW and NSFW headcanons with a Gender Neutral reader.

Genre: Fluff, smut under NSFW cut.

Warnings: Mentions of König's social anxiety.

Enjoy!!

Masterlist here!

***************

You'd needed to be the one to tell him how you felt. His anxiety denied him to ever open up in a way like that. What if you didn't feel the same? You wouldn't want to be his friend anymore then he'd be stuck with no one to talk to. You were the one person that could bring him complete comfort so that was difficult for him.

Getting to know him over the time allowed him to feel more comfortable around you and vice versa. He's a stud. A 6'10 killing machine, but his personality didn't depict that at all.

He was gentle and caring, not at all like the persona behind his mask. Not like the one that goes on missions and slaughter sprees.

He worried too much about falling for his only friend that his heart couldn't take it when you finally told him you liked him.

His heart was beating so fast, you swore you could hear it thumping against his chest.

He tried keeping his composure, but the excitement in his voice was not able to be hidden.

"Date? Tomorrow night?"

Thats where the beautiful relationship blossomed.

After you'd been dating for a while, his true colours would start showing.

He'd cook for you, clean for you, pretty much do all the housework so you wouldn't have to lift a muscle.

Of course you still helped, you couldn't have him doing all the chores. But it was the thought that counted.

Cooking would be his favourite way to impress you when he isn't deployed, and this type of Central European cuisine became a main portion of your diet.

"My love, König, you're doing the always cooking. Let me take over for tonight."

"Schatz, please, I'm trying to concentrate on the Goulash. Sit down."

Yes, sir 🫡

König would always be big on communication. It's the foundation for a healthy relationship. If he was ever anxious or afraid of something, he'd always come to you even if he barely had the courage to do so.

You'd always give him that closure he needed to hear, and vice versa.

He may be cold and serious on missions, but thats only because his job required him to be like that. In reality, König was very emotional.

He'd never really had someone like you to open up to, so just talking about his feelings (whether he'd be happy or upset) would result in him almost sobbing.

He would very much be that person to babble on for hours and hours at a time to you about his special interests. He could talk for hours about all his different guns and knives and the stories behind them. And you would gladly listen.

König would often get lost in how passionate he is about his firearms and you couldn't do anything but stare back at him with heart eyes. He became so talkative with you, it made you fall in love with him even more. König knew he could trust you, so he couldn't help but get every thought out all at once about his interests. He wanted you to know every little detail possible, and even if you had no idea what he was talking about, you would still gladly listen and match his excitement.

It was bloody adorable.

He'd definitely take you to a shooting range to guide you at and try to teach you to be just as good as him handling firearms.

Since serving in the military is so big in his life, he'd teach you some self defence methods for when he isn't around to protect you.

He couldn't let anything happen to you or he'd never forgive himself.

König wouldn't show much PDA, he'd definitely be too nervous for that. Maybe the occasional hand holding. But alone, he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off you.

He'd be all over you, holding onto your waist, your thighs, your hips. He'd constantly be trying to hold onto you, following you around behind you like a lost puppy if it meant he could hold onto your hand just a little while longer.

Holding onto you made him feel safe. As long as he's holding onto you, you couldn't leave him.

The poor boy was so touch deprived, the first hug you'd ended up giving him, he didn't know how to hug you back and almost started sobbing.

He'd need to hold back when hugging you just so he wouldn't crush your bones. He was very unaware of his strength the first time he'd hugged you back and gave you that little bit of an uncomfortable squish.

He'd realised how tightly he squeezed you without him even noticing so he promised himself that he'd always be as gentle as possible with you.

He felt like an elephant in a porcelain store when he was around you. Like a rare treasure that was his and only his, so precious and so fragile.

The first time he'd prompted to remove his hood for you, you instantly felt nervous. And so did he! He was extremely anxious you'd despise his looks. He was pretty insecure already due to his massive height and build, especially as a sniper. His size was already inconvenient, he didn't want you to think less of him due to how his face looks.

He'd finally removed his hood and you could do nothing but stare at him in awe, observing all his beautiful features.

You were staring at his beauty so much you almost didn't realised he'd teared up a little. It's safe to say he was very flustered.

"No, my love, don't start crying. You're too beautiful to cry."

He'd cry anyway and you'd end up with a sobbing soldier in your chest.

You had been calling him your 'beautiful boy' and 'pretty boy' ever since, and it gets him embarrassed every time. Getting more comfortable around you and not wearing his hood all that often anymore, he can't hid his red face anymore.

That'll also end with him burying his face into your chest.

No matter how big he'd be compared to you, he'd always be your pretty little boy.

__________________

NSFW

I'll say it once and only once,

He's a thighs man.

If you two are in a saucy situation, he'll be practically ripping into your thighs. Grabbing them, digging his fingers into them, he would not be able to keep his hands off them.

(Or mouth)

He had a thing for marking you.

He wouldn't mark you in clearly visible places like on your neck or anything. He'd leave those marks on your collar bone or your chest or your thighs. Those little purple and blue bruises and love bites. Out of sight, out of mind. But not for him.

No one else could see them, except him. No one knew they were there, except him.

He'd often feel himself getting hard in places he shouldn't like when you two are out together just by thinking of those love bites he'd leave on you. Looking in the general direction of them would make his mind go wild. A simple trip to the bathroom would pursue and he'd relieve himself as quietly as possible.

Speaking of such, he'd be very vocal in bed.

He has a tough and cold outer shell, but inside that is still a man that loves to please you.

BIG size kink.

He loves laying his cock against your stomach just to see the size difference.

"Liebling, how will you ever be able to take this? I suppose he'll just need to make it fit, won't we?"

The first time with him, early on he'd be gentle and whiny.

Slow, deep thrusts, making sure you both feel as good as possible.

Then he'd start getting desperate and his moans would become louder.

Dirty talk king, here.

Or well,

Dirty talk König.

Not the talk itself, but the way he delivers it.

He'll whisper the some generic sentences you'll hear in dirty talk, but in the filthiest, most shameless moans you'd ever hear from this man.

"I ought to fill you up with my cum, shouldn't I, S-Schatz? Leave a- shieße- a pretty l-little bulge in your stomach, hmm?"

His job requires a lot of stamina from him, and boy does he have that.

He'll pound into you like theres no tomorrow.

"Liebling- fuuuck!- Ahh, i'm so close. Please, please, please, please may I cum inside you! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..."

He'll beg you to cum even if you can't say anything back. Even if theres nothing else on your mind, even if you've been dumbified down by his rapid pounding and all you can think about now is his cock inside you and how it throbs for his release.

When he does cum, inside you or not, he lets out the most shameless, high pitched moans and whimpers which you'd never expected a man like him to release.

And,

Oh boy,

It was hot.

König couldn't care in the moment who could hear, all he wanted them to know was how good his partner is making him feel.

And the same went for you.

He'd want you to make as much noise as you could, he would not let you shut up. If you ever went to cover your mouth or bite onto your tongue to keep yourself from making any noise, he'd quickly notice on it and tell you to stop. He's the kind to intertwine your fingers together and pin them next to you just so you don't cover your mouth again.

Again, he'd be very big on pleasing you though.

If you are AFAB, this man would be very pussy drunk for days and days after the session, unable to think of anything else other than you.

He'd eat you out like theres no tomorrow, making you shake and shiver with every time you'd climax on his mouth. Then the pattern would repeat.

If you are AMAB, he would not be able to keep your cock out of his mouth.

He may be massive compared to you, but he isn't used to the feeling of anything really in his mouth, so he'd gag maybe just a bit before he'd gotten used to it.

But he loved it, he loved it so fucking much. He loved the feeling of your cock down his throat as your cum is forced down his oesophagus.

He'd look up at you with the most beautiful puppy eyes you'd ever seen, indirectly begging for you to cum in his mouth.

Then you would, and he'd put the attention back in between your legs.

Very into praise, giving and receiving, it makes him remember he's loved.

You calling him a good boy would just raise his sex drive. Doing this will also send the sweaty, incoherently babbling mess of a man into a silent shock for a split second before he'd let out those beautiful noises again.

"S-Say it again,, please.."

He'd beg you in between loud moans.

"Come on, König, who's my good boy?"

...

That's when you'd feel that hot, thick, gooey liquid shoot inside of you as he let out the filthiest moan you'd ever hear.

And he'll keep going.

He'll keep thrusting into you, overstimulated as hell and letting out the most breathy, wet noises from his mouth. He couldn't get enough of that feeling of being inside you.

His real pleasure comes from making you cum though, making sure you're through and satisfied by the time you two finish.

After your sessions he'd constantly be saying he loved you and how well you did taking him. He'd apologise for anything and everything, if he hurt you too much or if his cock stretched you out too much.

Fuck that,

You wouldn't be able to walk after his poundings, he'd need to give you extensive help so you wouldn't collapse onto the floor.

He'll make sure you're hydrated and cleaned up before taking you back to bed.

He'd kiss all the places he'd grabbed onto and left marks on (leaving more marks in the process).

"I'm so sorry, Schatzi. I didn't mean to cause you to not be able to walk."

"Be a good boy for me, König, and help me walk to the bathroom."

***************

Thank you so much for asking this!! And if you've read this all the way. I hope you enjoyed my babbles. Goodnight <3

[rainydaymiscellaneous]

I hate to ask again but I had and idea. Also the last one was so cute thank you. If you can can you please write a Kaz Brekker x reader where the reader is in love with this book but no one has read is so they have no one to talk to about it so Kaz reads it and starts a conversation about it with the reader and they get really happy and start ranting about it to him and he’s just happy to sit and listen to them and make comments from time to time

Dude, send me all the requests for our boy Kazzle Dazzle your ideas are so creative!

Book Club (Kaz x reader)

He needed an opening. Just one solid reason to actually talk to you. You had been in the Dregs for years now and Kaz was still struggling to even breathe around you. He had this crush on you that he refused to admit was there. Inej saw it, even dumbass Jesper saw it.

You'd assume that Kaz was mute if it hadn't been for your presence in the Dregs. You had been there for a long time but disappeared on a mission far off for three years. The room above Kaz had been vacant and then suddenly it had life. Kaz had no idea anyone even lived above him until you knocked on his door your first night back and asked him to join you for tea.

There you sat on a nice couch with a cup of chamomile. Kaz was perplexed by who you were and why the fuck you wanted to drink glorified leaves in water.

"Why am I here?" He asked.

"You tell me." You said, sipping from your cup. Kaz furrowed his brow.

"You asked me to have tea with you." He said, watching you with those daggers for eyes.

"You didn't have to say yes." You shrugged.

"I did."

"You did not." "I did." He said. "Okay then, why did you have to accept?" You asked. He sighed, looking at you with his gloved hands gripping his cane.

"Because I needed to know who was suddenly living in the room above me." He said. You rose a brow.

"You could've asked Inej to investigate." You said. He blinked.

"You know Inej?" He asked.

"I've been in the Dregs for three years, of course I know your main lot. Inej, Jesper, Nina, Wylan and that off-putting convict Mattias." You said.

Kaz was confused. How did you know so much but he was ignorant to you? How did he not know who you were?

"I'm a sharpshooter. I use that-" you pointed to a rifle on the mantle "rifle to kill whoever you want dead." You said.

"Why do I not know you?" Kaz asked.

"I was off in Shu Han for Haskell." You said. "For what?" Kaz asked.

"You do your business, I'll do mine." You said.

He liked that response. It meant you'd keep any secret that slipped through your ears. "I will work for you when you need me. Say the word, I will be there no questions asked unless one of ours is bleeding." You said.

"Why tea?" He asked. "We easily could've done this over something less detestable."

You chuckled. "You've not had the right tea then." You said with that smile.

That fucking smile. From that moment on Kaz was hooked. He couldn't help it. It was hard to not fall in love with someone like you. You were always there when he needed you, apparently you had taken some training on stealth from Inej, leaning to be one with the dark making you even more deadly.

But for the deadly persona that the streets simply knew as "the bullet", you were a gentle person. Kaz often noticed you with stray animals, seeing that kind smile. The one that made Kaz at a loss for words. You'd often make that same smile at Kaz when you'd pass him with a gentle "hi boss."

Sure, technically Per Haskell was the "boss". You however knew damn well Kaz was the brains behind everything. You had become close with the other members of the Dregs, including Inej who called you a sister. She loved being around you. You gave good advice and that was probably why the rest of the group would flock to you.

So there you all were, your head in Jesper's lap as you read. Kaz had noticed your sudden interest in this, everytime he saw you, you had that book in hand now. Wylan looked over at you.

"Care to join the game?" He asked.

"I'm good." You said, turning the page.

"You've been reading that for two weeks now, come up for air." Inej said.

"I need to know if Alistair lives Inej, the prophecy is strongly implying he will die and I don't think Cousland can handle him dying." You muttered, reading.

"None of that made any sense." Nina said.

"It'll make sense if one of you would at least read it." You said.

"We're all too busy. Kaz keeps giving us stupid b&e's.(breaking and entering)" Jesper said.

"Not all of you are busy though. Wylan?" You said.

"Kaz has been training me for lockpicking." Wylan said.

"He take you to the financial district?" You asked, looking up.

"Once or twice." He shrugged.

"Course he did. Best place to practice." You said before going back to your book.

"Alright, who's in?" Jesper asked.

Inej noticed Kaz at the bar, occasionally looking over at you. "I'm out." She said.

Inej made her way to him and he cleared his throat, turning back to his drink. It looked like scotch but the smell... it wasn't scotch it was tea.

"Didn't you say that tea was just leaves in water that is hot?" Inej asked.

"I hadn't drank the right tea." Kaz said, looking at the glass with vacant eyes. Inej recognized the expression. Kaz was at war with himself, as usual.

He never handled his innermost feelings well, especially the ones that left him vulnerable. And what was more vulnerable than love? You were a plague to his mind, always there. When it wasn't your face that he was smiling internally at, it was your laugh. When it wasn't your laugh it was your smile and so on. He wanted so badly to talk to you like he once did over tea but he didn't think it was a good idea.

You were just so perfect in his eyes. So beautiful, so smart. If he tried to converse, he'd make an ass of himself. He needed an opening something fierce. Something to give him a reason to talk to you instead of "hey, your face is anestheticly pleasing to look at, which I do. Frequently. Without you knowing."

"You're staring at your glass mighty hard there." Inej said. Kaz looked up. "You should just talk to her." She said.

"It's not that easy." He muttered.

"I do it all the time." Inej said with an eyeroll.

"Because you are friends. You know her. I am not that lucky." He said.

"You do know her." Inej said.

"Not like that. I know her from afar. Where it's safe." He said, drinking the glass.

"Kaz, she's right there. Just talk to her." Inej said.

You got up, stretching with a yawn. "I'm heading out " You said to Inej.

"Kaz will go with you!" Inej volunteered.

If looks could kill, Inej would've been six feet under at that moment Kaz glared at her.

"Alright..?" You said confused. Kaz sighed looking at Inej and then you before standing up.

He walked out with you, noticing the dark clouds that hung in the sky. "Looks like it might rain" he said.

"Good reading weather." You said.

"You're usually reading nowadays." Kaz said.

"It's a nice escape from things when they get too intense." You shrugged.

"What is it that you're reading now?" He asked.

If you were a dog, your ears would've perked up. "It's amazing- it's about this girl who joins this legendary army and has to rebuild what was-... Sorry." You cleared your throat.

"Why are you apologizing?" He asked.

"Well apparently everyone thinks I talk too much about this book." You said.

"Who said that?"

"Well Nina." He'd kill her

"And Jesper." He'd shoot him with his own guns

"And Inej." Wait what?

"And pretty much anyone who asks me." You finished.

"Wow." Was all Kaz could muster for words.

You shrugged. "I wish they'd just listen to me and read the damn book." You said.

"Why do you think they haven't?" He asked.

"They're all busy. They have their own lives and I have mine. It's nothing personal, I know. But I just wish sometimes I could talk to someone about it and have them actually know what I'm talking about." You said walking.

Kaz then realized this was it. This was his perfect excuse to get closer. "What's the name of the book?" He asked curiously.

"Rise of the Grey Wardens. Why?" You asked.

"I figured I could read it." He shrugged.

Your eyes lit up and Kaz felt intense joy. He made you happy. He actually made you happy. He didn't mean to but he did and my god were you adorable to him when you were beaming. "Then I know where we should go!" You said walking ahead of him.

Instinctively he followed. "Where are we going?" He asked.

You looked back, a breeze blowing your hair in such a beautiful way as you turned to him. "My favorite place in Ketterdam."

He asked no more questions after that, just following you quietly through backstreets. Kaz watched you approach a side door to a building, knocking on it rhythmically. The door open, an older woman smiling at you.

"Weren't you just here a few days ago?" She asked.

"I brought a friend." You said with a smile, stepping back and motioning for Kaz to introduce himself. Kaz couldn't help but feel a little giddy of your use of 'friend'.

"I'm-"

"I know." She said. She didn't say it with disdain though, which shocked him. "You're the reason we're still open. Come on in Mister Brekker."

He didn't know what that meant but accepted the invitation, walking in. "Do you have another copy of 'Rise of the Grey Wardens'?" You asked.

"I do, why did you burn through your other copy?" She asked.

"Mister Brekker wishes to read." You said with a grin. Kaz's eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room. Bookshelves lined the walls both on the first and second floor of the building. There must've been thousands of books in front of Kaz.

"Here you are mister Brekker." The woman said.

"Thank you er..."

"Miriam." She said with a nod and a kind smile. She gave off the feeling of a doting grandmother with how fond she seemed of you. "Right! Y/n dear, I made some sugar biscuits if you'd like to try them" she said. You seemed to have found your way upstairs when you responded back with a

"Be right down!"

You returned with a new book in hand and Miriam grinned as Kaz took the book. "I see you've found the sequel." She said. You had the biggest grin.

"I had no clue it was a series." You admitted.

"The second one tends to be slow but it is vital for the third." She said, handing you a cookie.

You smiled, taking it. "Thank you. How much do I owe you?" You asked.

"Nothing. It's on the house." She declared.

"Miriam, if you ever wanted to apply for sainthood, I do believe you to be eligible." You said making her laugh.

"Thank the saints you didn't know me in my youth." She teased making you laugh. Kaz couldn't explain it. Usually smalltalk annoyed him but something about this was nice to him. You and Miriam seemed to have a tight bond.

"We should go, it does look like it'll rain." You said, peaking out a window. Kaz nodded but Miriam held her hand up before handing you and Kaz paper bags.

"For the road." She told the both of you. You gave her a kind smile before walking back to the door. "One moment Mister Brekker." She halted. Kaz turned around as Miriam motioned for him to lean forward for them to whisper. "Keep her safe, will you? There's not many a good person in Ketterdam but she's one of them." She said.

Kaz with possibly the sweetest look of adoration he could muster simply said "I will, Miss Miriam." Before he followed you out. The two of you began your trek back to the Slat. "How long have you known Miriam?" Kaz asked.

"Going on ten years now. Saved her cat from a town fire, she's been grateful since." You said, opening the paperbag and pulling a cookie out. Miriam gave you both cookies. Maybe Miriam was just a village grandma.

"Has any of the others met her?" He asked.

You shook your head. "You'd be the first I've shown to the Archive." You said.

"Why me?" Kaz asked as a crack of thunder sounded off.

"Because you asked me about what I read." You said before walking into the Slat.

Kaz winded up spending a good week reading that book. You were right, it was an amazing story. When he finished, he had that same urge that you did to discuss it.

All of the crows were back in the club, this time Kaz and you both playing a round of poker. Jesper hated this. You were way too good at poker and kept winning, hand after hand. You had a nice stack of chips. Inej seeing your smirk as you leaned back in your chair.

"I win again!" You said.

"Why is this so hard?" Wylan asked.

"Because Y/n is way too good at this." Jesper groaned, smacking his head on the table. Nina sighed.

"I need a drink. A very large one." She said.

"I've got my own little army of chips." You said, stacking them.

"You could rebuild the Cousland estate with your winnings." Kaz said, you looking up slightly shocked. "Course, I could always pull a Howe and, y'know. Knock it down." Kaz added.

You looked bewildered as Inej rose a brow.

"Kay, is it just me, or did none of that make sense?" Jesper asked.

"You just made a reference." You said.

"I did." Kaz nodded.

"You finished it."

"I did."

"And!?"

"You were right. The book is fantastic, I could not put it down." Kaz said.

Inej and Jesper exchanged a look.

"Fuck poker. We need to discuss the book NOW!" You said excitedly.

"Yes! Put me out of my misery!" Jesper said.

Kaz looked at him and then you. "Let's have tea." He suggest. Nina's eyes went wide as she realized what was happening before her, her looking at Inej who had a smile on her face.

"I'm grabbing my coat! Let's go!" You said getting up. Kaz followed you as you practically bounced out the door with excitement.

Nina gaped. "How long has he been in love with her!?" She asked as the door closed.

"Oh a while now, like since she got back." Wylan shrugged.

Jesper and Inej looked at Wylan as he moved your chips.

"You knew?" Inej asked.

"It'd take a blind man not to see."

You ended up back at the Slat, sitting cross legged on your sofa. You two must've discussed the book for hours, Kaz loving every moment of it as he heard you passionately talk about the story.

You sighed with a smile. "It's funny, I didn't think you liked me." You said, looking at your empty tea cup.

Kaz rose a brow. "Why did you think that?" He asked.

"You just seemed so... I dunno. Angry that I returned." You said.

"I wasn't."

"But you seemed it."

"I didn't know who you were. I was on my guard" he said. You rose a brow.

"You're not anymore?" You asked. Kaz bared a gentle expression that made your heart almost explode inside your chest.

"I'm not. You're one of the few I trust. The only I'd trust with my entire being." He said. Kaz didn't have faith in a lot of things. But he had faith in you and it showed. He looked at you. "Do you trust me?" He asked.

You gave him a look of pure adoration. "Of course." You said. You had spent your life reading books about the greatest romances of all time. You'd get lost in those stories of how the man always loved the girl but she didn't realize it until a pivotal moment.

"Kaz... you said you trusted me." You breathed. "Please. Please let my intuition be right." You thought to yourself as Kaz gave you a questioning look. "Do you... love me?"

Your question hung in the air for what felt like the longest minute of your life. Kaz definitely seemed caught way off his guard by the question, his eyes widening the second he realized what was happening.

This entire time he has been hoping for an opening to talk to you. A moment to truly get to know you. Well he got one. And he fell in love with every bit of you. He swallowed hard.

"Forget that I asked, I am so sorr-" "I do." He said.

You blinked. "What?"

"I love you." He said. Your jaw must've hit the floor. You knew how guarded this man was. You heard that any semblance of vulnerability was practically impossible from Kaz and yet here he was. Being the most vulnerable he could be with you.

You looked at him before getting up. He thought his words might've done something bad. Maybe you didn't want his love. Maybe he had misinterpreted everything, maybe he was a fool for thinking there was-

You kneeled in front of him. "Kaz, may... Uhm... May I touch you?" You asked. With hesitation he nodded as your hand gently held his cheek. The touch of humans was deeply unsettling to Kaz. That feeling brought him back to a place he never wanted to be in ever again and yet somehow...

Somehow your gentle touch made him feel safe. If it had been anyone else he'd probably be in the process of murdering the fool who touched him. But it was you. You were like an angel on earth to him.

"When I look at you, do you know what I see?" You asked softly.

"No." He muttered.

"I see someone else who's been through hell and came out on the other side." You held his hands, Kaz looking in your eyes. "We've suffered long enough and we deserve to be happy." You said softly.

Kaz had a momentary loss of control. He kissed you, you leaning into his touch. He pulled away with wide eyes. "I am so sorry-" "shut up and kiss me Brekker."

The next day you were at the crow club reading at the bar next to Inej. Jesper yawned. "It's a boring day. Wish Kaz would give us something to do. By this point I'll take a fucking b&e." He whined.

Kaz, as if he were summoned, walked through the doors of the crow club, sitting on your other side. For once, Inej watched you put your book down as you gave a gentle smile to Kaz. "Hello" you said.

The dead give away that something had changed was the fact that Kaz smiled. He actually smiled back at you. "Hello." He said softly.

Inej and Jesper swapped shocked looks. "Y/n, do you mind helping me with this? It's a rifle mod and I wanna make sure I've got the measurements right." Wylan asked. You looked over.

"Alright." You said walking off.

Jesper and Inej looked at Kaz who now had a drink in his hand. "What the hell happened last night!?" Jesper asked.

"Nothing important." Kaz shrugged.

"We just had tea."

[bookishdream]

Something he wants

kaz brekker x fem!reader word count: 2k CW: a bit of unpleasant touching, but nothing further than that

If one peered carefully into the dark, they would see a pair of young adults walking down the cobblestone street. One of them – a man – limping and clicking his cane. The other one – a woman – with long hair and a magnificent dress, its colors conveying the moonlight. And they were arguing. 

“I said no,” the man’s voice was hoarse, loud enough for his companion’s ears but quiet enough so that no one else could hear. “Your complaining won’t help change my mind.”

“You’re unbearable, Brekker,” she remarked, crossing her arms on her chest. The gown had puffy, tulle sleeves. The pattern of roses with thorns was woven into the fabric, cleverly covering her crow tattoo. “I told you I would go no matter what you’d say, so here I am. And you know we have a better chance of obtaining information using me as bait.” She let her arms loose, playing with the cuffs of her dress. It was cold in Ketterdam and her dress had a wide opening that showed her entire back. 

“I don’t care,” Kaz rolled his eyes. The crow on his cane blinked mischievously, sending shivers down the woman’s spine. 

“Kaz, no offense, but you’re as pretty as Pim’s rear,” she looked into his eyes. Obviously she lied. However, she would never admit that to anyone. “I am your best shot at getting whatever you need. And it will be a lot easier than breaking into his house.” 

“You’re a stubborn thing, aren’t you?” he sent a smirk her way. Only later that night will he realize that a bit of red on her cheeks wasn’t from the freezing temperatures, but from the way he looked at her. And did he look at her, all right. Kaz didn’t pay attention to anything unless it looked like a stack of kruge on his desk. But when she had entered the Crow Club, demanding an audience with him, he had been stunned to say at least. Her hair had flown when she’d darted past Jesper, straight into Kaz’s cane. 

“Pardon?” she’d asked, eyeing the crow on his walking stick. “Are you Kaz Brekker? If not, get out of my way”

“Saints,” Jesper had whispered behind her, his palms loosely on his revolvers. 

“Why are you seeking him?” Brekker had said casually, the cane still in between the fierce creature and the staircase. 

“Unless you’re Brekker, I won’t be speaking with you,” she had crossed her arms on her chest, eyeing Kaz. “But you are him, aren’t you? The cane, the gloves, Nina said you’d be unusual.”

“Un–” Jesper had started, but one look from the Dirtyhands had made him stop. “I’ll go guard the door”

“Good idea,” Kaz had finally let his cane drop, leaning his body on it. His eyes focused on the woman. “What do you want?”

“I need your help,” she breathed. He’d only raised his eyebrows. “I need you to kill my father.”

Since then, they had been working together. Y/n with her striking beauty would seduce merchants, when Kaz was robbing their pockets. In more or less legal ways – depending on their mood. Not a single soul was aware that Brekker had such a compelling ace up his sleeve. 

“Kaz, please,” she whispered, her dress swooshing on the wind. “I dressed up, you can’t let my efforts go to waste.”  

Brekker rolled his eyes, but he must have admitted that the dress, in fact, looked magnificent on the woman. The color lit up her eyes and the brocade corset was making her skin glow. Yet, he didn’t speak another word, pointing his cane in the direction of the perpendicular street. Y/n tilted her head. “Which house?”

“The one with the green door.”

“Give me twenty minutes,” she nodded her head in acknowledgment. “No mourners.” 

“No funerals,” Kaz replied. 

Y/n went down the street. The lamps were dimmed, not giving much light, yet she could see the path clearly. When she was younger, she would wander around this district, dreaming about being an important persona herself. She would pretend that she was a grisha. One day she would be an Inferni and the other she’d be a Heartrender. She would have to be careful so as not to get caught by stadwatch or worse – her father. He despised grisha, the littlest mention about their kind got his blood boiling. He would murder them. And he would make her watch. 

When she got close to the door, she took a breath in. Her body tensed and her heart beating so fast, she could swear people down the street were able to hear it. She knocked, once, twice. No one answered at first, but a moment later she noticed a loud noise of someone making their way to the door. 

“Who’s there?!” a man’s voice echoed from behind the entrance. 

“Please, I need your help,” she strived to make her voice sound as desperate as she could. She forced her palms to tremble and she bit her lower lip. She promised twenty minutes and she needed to be a bit faster than that. “I-i got lost,” she stammered. 

The door opened with a wide swing, the man’s face was wrinkled and he didn’t look as pleasant as she remembered from the photo. When his eyes laid on her body, she knew exactly when he thought about taking advantage of her. She knew what he saw. A broken girl, who looked like a doll, with her big, princess-looking dress, smeared make-up and a trembling lip. She couldn’t look longer than a few seconds at him, which he also took notice of. She was nothing but a broken piece to him. And she made him believe in whatever he wanted. 

He helped her get up and while still touching her arms, he led her to the office or a living room, she didn’t know. His breath reeked of whatever alcohol he was drinking prior to her interruption. She wanted to grimace but kept her face straight, Kaz trusted her to get this work done and she didn’t plan on doing otherwise. 

“So, darling, what are you doing in this neighborhood?” He forced her to sit in one of the armchairs standing opposite to the big, oak desk. “Such a fine, little thing getting lost in the night? You never know what can get from behind the corner.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She suppressed a shudder and only smiled, hoping she looked as coy as she wanted to convey. She wanted to punch him. 

“My father was playing cards in one of the clubs,” she started, her fingers were trembling so she intertwined them. “I just wanted to take a breath, but I went too far and I got lost. I don’t know what to do…” she forced her voice to break. The old man’s face was focused on her lips the entire time she was talking, her heart beat with a new dose of uneasiness. Where the hell was Kaz?

“It’s okay, doll” he placed his fingers under her chin, lifting her head. She could smell a cigar smoke somewhere in the room. She didn’t notice that the lamps were dimmed and the heavy, dark curtains were blocking out the light from the street lamps. She discreetly scanned the room, looking out for any possible exits, but the merchant wasn’t as stupid as she originally had thought. There was only one way in and only one way out. Right behind her. 

The merchant was looking into her eyes, searching for something. “You think you are so clever huh?” his hold on her chin started growing stronger, soon he moved his palm to her throat, squeezing it, cutting her airways. She sucked in a breath but couldn’t do much about her situation. “Do you think I haven’t seen you around this bastard Brekker?” He squeezed her neck harder, she could feel her eyes water. “Do you think I wasn’t aware you would be coming here tonight?” 

She tried speaking, but her efforts came out fruitless. She saw in his eyes that he had no intention to let her go. She was happy she would die in a gorgeous dress, at least. 

“Oh, no, no, no,” he tsked. “You won’t die tonight, doll, not until I get my answers.” The merchant let go of her neck, just so she could utter a sentence.

“I will never betray Kaz,” she spat on his face, clawing at his palm. 

‘You bitch,” he let her go. Y/n saw an opening and kicked him into his stomach. She turned on her heel and made her way to the door, but the man managed to grab her waist and kept her in one place. “I wonder if Brekker cares enough for you to come here,” he whispered into her ear, sending shivers along her spine. She felt the hairs on the nape of her neck rising. She tried wiggling out of his hold, but to no avail. 

“Actually, I’ve been here for quite some time now,” came a voice from behind the desk. This husky voice, whose owner she wanted to murder with her bare hands at that moment. “You have something I want, Marcus.”

Y/n saw Jesper on the threshold, pointing both of his guns in their direction. When she looked up, Zemeni winked at her, letting her body relax. She forced herself free out of the merchant’s arms and made her way towards the exit. She was trembling. She saw Kaz motioning for Marcus to sit on the armchair she was previously on. The merchant was making his way to this direction slowly, never letting Brekker out of his sight. How clever. 

“I must admit, your bitch is a feisty one,” he put his ankle onto his other knee, resting his hands on the armrests. In a second his head flew to the right and blood was leaking from his cheekbone. 

“Call her a bitch one more time and I will break every single one of your fingers,” Kaz remarked calmly, his demeanor still the same. “I came for the money.”

“I don’t have your money,” Marcus countered, clutching a handkerchief to his face. “I have never stolen from you.” 

“You are mistaken,” he got up, pulling a paper out of his pocket. “You were about to steal from me, Marcus. That’s what you wrote to your acquaintance, isn’t it?”

The merchant sat there, wordlessly, his eyes wide. Y/n smirked into his direction, whistling. “You’re a naughty boy, Marcus, a naughty boy.”

The man only snarled at her, she rolled her eyes in response. 

“Well, since you wanted to steal from me, all I want is a percentage of your shares in one of the clubs in the Harbor,” Kaz looked at Marcus, his eyes still locked on the merchant. 

“You are crazy,” he yelled. 

“And you are a dead man unless you agree. It doesn’t have to be a big part, just a small one would be enough.” 

After some time, Kaz had his shares and she had a bruise around your neck. She could still feel the phantom of Marcus’s hands on her throat. Until it heals, she won’t make it go away. 

“So now what?” Jesper asked, his revolvers back in his belt and a smirk on his lips. “You’re going to sabotage the rest of his clubs?”

She was looking at the pavement, but not hearing Kaz’s response, she lifted her head and sent him a look. “Saints, you really want to do that.”

“Why else would I want shares from only one club? It wouldn’t be much if there were five others now, would it?” 

Jesper whistled at his words and resumed his vigorous steps towards the Crow Club. Y/n stayed behind, her legs heavy. 

“Kaz?” she whispered. She saw him lifting his eyebrow. “Why didn’t you help me when you saw him strangling me?” 

“I didn’t see it,” he replied. 

“What?”

“I only saw him holding you and you were trying to elbow him. And y/n I wanted to smash his skull so hard that his brain would leak out of his ears,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. 

“That’s disgusting,” she breathed a light laugh. Her brows knitted together. “How did you get in?”

“A magician never tells his secrets,” he smirked, leaving her behind him. 

[rosesaints]

hello i saw ur yuuta piece and loved how u write !! could u write smth similar perhaps for megumi 🤧🤧 he needs more love .. 🍀

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟcollege student!megumi fushiguro hc dump

pairing: megumi fushiguro x f!reader warnings: 18+ mdni, mix of sfw and nsfw content under the cut, a very obscenely american depiction of college, just me pouring my heart out to the most perfect underrated college bf ever. wc: 1300

college student!megumi fushiguro who enrolls in university as a biology major, minoring in english on the pre-veterinarian track, carefully selecting his college after agonizing over whether or not he wanted to be a writer or a vet, ultimately choosing the latter after an impressive tour of a research lab with leaders on the field who eagerly and enthusiastically answer every single one of his questions, no matter how miniscule or thorough. goes home with a stupid grin on his face that yuuji won't stop taking pictures of—"yuuji, would you chill the fuck out? it was just a college tour."

college student!megumi fushiguro goes home and quickly accepts his offer, orders two sweaters from the university's online tour, visits tsumiki at the hospital and tells her all about where he plans to go for the next four years.

college student!megumi fushiguro who has a very, very eventful freshman year—

he takes public transport around campus, has an old, beaten up pair of headphones that he probably got from thrifting, listens to beach house, cocteau twins, the neighbourhood, cigarettes after sex, sometimes songs that nobara and yuuji have recommended to him in the groupchat. acts like the brooding, silent type, until you accidentally knock into him during a nasty bump on the road, and he very quickly loses his composure and helps you out, beats himself up afterwards for not getting your name

finds you later at his biology lab, pleasantly surprised and trying to force down any visible signs of excitement when you get paired together for the rest of the semester. lets you take his phone without any fuss to type your number down, keeps the heart you've left besides your name and texts you that night to make plans to go on a date work on the lab report due that week

mentions you offhandedly during the debrief dinner he has at least a couple times a week with yuuji and nobara, frowns when they freeze and look at each other in that skitterish, excited way that they do when they're in on something together. "megumi, you never, ever talk about girls!"

he finds every excuse to see you outside of class. "damn, i guess we're gonna have to work on the report later, i'll see you at 6?" or "i think we need to talk about the objectives over some lunch at this new sushi place in town, anyway—"

you go along with it because it's so painfully obvious, but you don't have the heart to break whatever cool guy, aloof persona he's kind of determined to uphold (megumi, please, for the love of god, just learn how to ask someone out on a date)

he works hard to find new places he thinks you'll like and at some point, you guys just stop working on reports altogether and just start having fun around campus

sends you game pigeon texts throughout the day, lets you win at 8ball, but never, ever backs down from word hunt. he will score 30k points over you and not break a sweat.

rolls up his lab coat once in class and your brain short-circuits, man has an insane sleeper build, grabs your microscope slides for you and easily returns your microscope for you. "you okay?" "yup! completely and totally fine!"

i cannot stress enough how oblivious he is, though. you guys go to parties together, he grabs your drinks for you, holds your waist when someone gets too rowdy, and leave together. somehow, this man still thinks you don't reciprocate his feelings.

he wants to confess, he does, but there's all these logistics and things he has to plan for, has to do it in just the right way, at the right place, wracks his head at night trying to think of a way to just tell you. yuuji calls him fucking stupid one night and for once, he agrees.

gets too busy fussing and concerning over what he would do when the time comes, doesn't even stop and consider the fact that you might just beat him to it!

"'gumi," he literally has his head on your lap while he's doing an assigned reading for class, and it's probably one of the most peaceful days he's had in a while, but the way you smile and say his name makes his heart skip a beat. "wanna go out with me?"

man, it's like the floodgates open after that. he gets so much more direct and confident—"we're gonna go volunteer at that animal shelter this weekend," and "i'm picking you up for dinner, is chinese okay?"

not the type for public displays of affection, but makes sure you're in his orbit all the time, somehow. glances across the lab when your professor blunders in the middle of the lecture, a hand on the small of your back while he maneuvers you through the street, places his hand above yours on the train while you're holding onto the pole

takes photos of you all the time, has a collection of different cameras, makes yuuji take photos of you and him on nights out with the disposable camera, photos of you looking absolutely adorable on the digital camera, and dumb, funny photos of you that you hate but he loves

nights spent at his dorm watching trashy reality shows (he acts like he doesn't give a shit but gasps louder than you whenever someone gets slapped), studying for your next exam only to end up making out on the floor, cooking ramen noodles just to end up making out on his twin bed, getting ready together and making out when he hoists you up to the counter and knocks all his (and your) shit over. "gumi, i still have toothpaste in my mouth—" "hm, i like mint."

loves loves loves to kiss you. will have hours-long make out sessions in his dorm or yours, will keep going even if your roommate walks in, doesn't even register their presence—too focused on whatever flavor of lip gloss you've got on or that cute top you're wearing that day

his second favorite thing to do is to leave marks in places only he can see. doesn't mean to do that, he swears, but you can see a ghost of a smile when he helps readjust the straps of your dress to hide a blooming hickey on your shoulder.

has this dumbstruck look on his face when you have sex for the first time, gasps and grips your ass with a strength that you were only vaguely aware of when you sink down on his length for the first time, low groans and narrowed eyes. "god, i think you're gonna kill me."

slowly ends up being the one to control the pace, bouncing you up and down on his dick for his own pleasure, even as you're squealing and scratching his back and deliriously trying to thrust back, only to be overpowered

could eat you out for hours, but also loooooves receiving head, loves the way your eyes shimmer when you take him deeper into your throat, the gagging, lewd noises that you make and the way you look up at him, asking if that was good. "that was fucking amazing. 10/10, no notes."

remember how he takes photos of you all the time? he has some polaroids of you in some.... scandalous positions hidden in his drawer that he likes to... use in times of desperation

doesn't initiate a whole lot at the beginning because he's still in the "learning phase," but once he gets you to cum within two minutes, it brings out his competitive spirit. "wonder how many more times you can cum again... think you got another two in you?"

basically living together by the end of the year, because he sleeps better when you're near and his whole dorm is littered with mementos that remind him of you. has that coffee blend you love in his kitchen cabinet, your toothbrush on the other side of his, and when he comes back from lecture to see your smiling face hanging upside down from his futon, thinks he might just want to spend the rest of his life with you.

© ROSESAINTS ! — do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. requests are OPEN .ᐟ

[kentopedia]

❝𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄❞ welcome to kentopedia's love through the ages collab. in honor of another lonely valentine’s day, i wanted to combine my two greatest loves: history and literature! so this is for anyone who wants a passionate romance and loves the aesthetics of the past. because i know that no matter when you live and die, your favs will always choose you ♡

STATUS: OPEN

♛ — TO JOIN

submit a piece based off a time in history you find interesting. it can be an au of your favorite classic novel, a song you enjoy from a period before your own, a piece of art you enjoy, or something entirely your own. be creative!!

please reblog this post & send me an ask with the character you'd like to write about and the inspiration. for example: "nanami + renaissance" (which is what i’ll be writing teehee).

♛ — REQUIREMENTS

no fandom limitation, but i will cap it off at 2 entries per character (i won’t count mine in that limit!). and you can join as many times as you want.

this is a historical au collab, so i will not accept any submissions based in the 21st century :) but it can go back as far as you want!

there is no deadline. minimum of 500 words, but no maximum. i love long fics! please use the read more feature on your posts.

♛ — OTHER

anyone can join, this is not limited to followers. no age requirement, but you must be 18+ to submit nsfw pieces, with an age indicator. make sure to follow the rules of all creators involved (including me!).

submissions can be as historically accurate or inaccurate as you want them to be, and could include fantasy elements too! this is all about capturing the aesthetics of a time period, but i will never limit anyone’s creativity. it can be extremely niche too!

all forms of art are welcome, not just writing, as long as they are of your own creation.

nsfw, sfw, dark content, etc. is all acceptable. be sure to tag accordingly!

♛ — TO SUBMIT

tag me in your submission so i can also add you to the masterlist. also, link this post on your submission to spread the love to other readers! i will be reading all the submissions and reblogging with feedback as well. let me know if you have any questions!

bungo stray dogs . . .

nakahara chuuya and post wwii yakuza by @cheriiyaya

nakahara chuuya and the 1800s italian mafia by @osaemu

dazai osamu & fyodor dostoevsky as rival painters in the renaissance by @aureatchi

dazai osamu & fyodor dostoevsky in the trojan war by @fyorina

fyodor dostoevsky and victorian era royalty by @verlainepaul

dazai osamu as a fallen angel by @chuuyrr

jujutsu kaisen . . .

nanami kento and the renaissance by @kentopedia

okkotsu yuta as an edo period samurai by @anqelically

gojo satoru & geto suguru and the medieval period by @flowerpersephone

geto suguru as a nineteenth century vampire by @todorokies

nanami kento and the victorian era by @starsinmylatte

gojo satoru and orpheus and eurydice by @forest-hashira

geto suguru and the american old west by @forest-hashira

geto suguru and phantom of the opera by @mynahx3

geto suguru and ancient greece by @mochimooon

nanami kento and the heian period by @purpleqilinwrites

fushiguro toji as a medieval bandit by @honeybleed

true form sukuna ryomen and ancient greece by @girlwithsharpt33th

okkotsu yuuta and post apocalyptic 1600s by @atsquie

nanami kento as a medieval knight by @mynahx3

nanami kento and the regency period by @kentopedia

nanami kento and ancient japan by @mynahx3

attack on titan . . .

reiner braun as a wwii soldier by @thel0v3hashira143

levi ackerman and the impressionist era by @be-co-me

armin arlert and the early 20th century by @crazychaoticizzy

eren jaeger and the age of piracy by @bloompompom

demon slayer . . .

shinazugawa sanemi and antony & cleopatra by @mitsuristoleme

tengen uzui and the roaring 20s by @forest-hashira

haikyuu . . .

kuroo tetsurō and the space race by @ktsumu

kuroo tetsurō & iwaizumi hajime in regency era inspired japan by @jarjarwinx

persona 5 . . .

akira kurusu and the prohibition era by @clubkira

genshin impact . . .

albedo as a renaissance artist by @clubkira

dainsleif in the greatest showman by @rubysm

blue lock . . .

noel noa and indonesian colonization by

[sorchathered]

Sacred New Beginnings (part 1)

This is a story over the weekend of Mav and Penny’s wedding, you and Bradley had been engaged and it had all gone to shit, with you back in town for the impending nuptials will you find your way back to each other? Or will you realize you were meant to be with someone else all along?

Pairing(s)- Bradley Bradshaw x reader, Jake Seresin x reader

Warnings- drinking, language, mentions of cheating, eventual smut. 18+

Song inspo- I bet you think about me- ts, the story of us- ts, Cornelia street- ts (yes I’m very taylor coded with this series lmao)

You’d begged Jake to keep it to himself, at least until you could get your bearings in North Island and talk to Bradley yourself. It had been 6 months since the two of you split, he’d put his mother’s ring on your finger and promised you a lifetime but it certainly didn’t turn out like either of you planned, crashing and burning before you ever got a chance to say I do. Now you were back in San Diego at the request of Maverick and Penny for their long awaited nuptials and no matter where you looked all you saw was Bradley Bradshaw.

Jake Seresin was your former front seater, the two of you flew a handful of missions together when you’d been stationed here before, you trusted each other in a way most people didn’t, going through countless near death situations will do that to someone. As you stepped out of the airport into the cool night air you could see him leaning against his ridiculous fully kitted Ford F-150, you could take the man out of Texas but he’d be a cowboy no matter where he went.

“There she is! Stormy girl you are a sight for sore eyes!” He scoops you up in a big bear hug and you finally feel yourself relax, tension melting away just being able to be with your best friend like this.

“Hey douchebag, missed you so much” you say punching his shoulder and letting him lead you into the truck, peeling out of the lot and onto the dark highway.

There’s just something about him that calms you down, everyone gets the big bad Hangman persona and while you’ve witnessed it more times than you can count he’s never once treated you that way. Being around him now feels like home and you need that more than ever knowing the heartache that’s bound to seep into what should be a fairytale weekend. You wring your hands nervously, you know you need to ask but you don’t want to pop the happy bubble you both are in. Time to rip off the bandaid.

“So please tell me you kept your damn mouth shut Jakey, last thing I want to do this weekend is cause a scene. Just want to watch Mav and Penny say I do and head back to Florida with no casualties.”

He frowns at you from across the console, mussing your hair with his hand, he loves having you back here, nothing has felt quite the same without you in his daily life. He knew you’d want to know about he who must not be named (yes Jake considers Bradley to be the Voldemort in your story, no he won’t apologize for it) but he had hoped you’d give yourself some time to adapt first.

“I promise darling, haven’t said a word, hand to God. We will make this weekend a blast and send you on back without a hitch, so long as ol’ Rooster keeps his nose clean we shouldn’t have an issue.”

Just hearing his name causes your heart to lurch, you’ve done so good about avoiding him; blocking his socials and refusing to stalk any of the daggers insta’s for pictures of your former lover.

“How is he?” You say quietly, inspecting your hands in your lap now, refusing to look up for fear that Jake will see your tells; he always does though.

He looks at you with furrowed brows, he wasn’t ready to break your heart again, so he rattled off a bare bones list of info you were looking for, not willing to succumb to the rumors floating around that would only rile you up. The last thing you needed was to spend the weekend drowning in what went wrong and what could have been.

“Recently got promoted to lieutenant commander, got a dog a few weeks ago, no I don’t know if he’s dating anyone and no I wouldn’t tell you if I did. We aren’t doing this to ourselves you hear me? You didn’t do anything wrong and self preservation isn’t a bad thing. Now you must be starving so let’s go get you some In and Out to celebrate my favorite girl being back home.”

Across town in a little craftsman style house by the beach, Bradley Bradshaw is pacing his halls. Mav asked him to be best man and he’s determined to make this speech perfect, but every time he tries to sit down and write out the words describing true love and destiny all he can think of is you. The two of you had been so happy, but then he *had* to go and fuck everything up. He knew you were the one from the minute he met you; all sharp tongue and attitude, truly the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. It wasn’t easy to get you to come around, you’d made it a rule not to date in your squad but somehow he had broken down your walls, when a particularly dangerous mission left him with substantial injuries you’d been paralyzed with fear. If he was just a friend like you claimed then why did it feel like your heart would explode if you never saw him again? The two of you danced around each others feelings for weeks after until one night of partying at Phoenix and Coyote’s you’d kissed him.

A year later he was standing on the beach with roses and Carole Bradshaw’s wedding ring asking you to be his forever, you’d said yes before he could even finish talking; fully confident in the choice you were making. Standing in his house now, no wife and no family he couldn’t help the tears that spilled down his face, regret flooding his senses at how he’d let it all fall apart.

He let his hubris get the best of him, he was the best at what he did, always making sure he went the extra mile to prove himself; constantly fighting living in Goose and Maverick’s shadow. So when a mission came up and you and Jake had been chosen, he’d felt deflated; why hadn’t he been picked? What made Jake the better pilot? What made you more qualified? He went to higher ups to plead his case, never once thinking about the aftermath and how his choices in this would affect you. Needless to say it ended badly, you and Jake being grounded and Bradley flying the mission, someone had let it slip at the bar one night that he’d intervened, costing you an important promotion opportunity and choosing his career over you.

You’d felt betrayed, how could you trust him to be your life partner if he couldn’t even support you in your career? You’d requested an immediate transfer, packed your things and left the ring in your shared home, a note briefly explaining your reasoning and that you’d never wanted it to end this way. He had ruined everything, tried to convince Jake to give him your new number but Hangman could be ruthless when he wanted to be. Refused to help in any way and made sure Bradley knew that he’d been the getaway car, he would always choose you and your happiness unlike Bradley who’d chosen career over love.

Bradley hated him, but he knew he couldn’t fault him for his decision. If he’d just given that level of care when it counted he’d probably still have you, instead of an empty house and a head full of what ifs. He’d been a terrible fiancé, sure he’d doted on you and always told everyone you were his everything, but he also loved attention. So he’d let girls at the bar flirt sometimes, make excuses that it was just his personality and that he didn’t mean anything by it because of course you were the only one for him. But he’d dulled your shine to lift himself up far too many times and he knew deep down he didn’t deserve a second chance. Giving up on his speech for the night he poured another scotch and made his way to bed, there was no mental preparation on earth that would make any of this easier.

Friday morning came bright and early, you stumbled your way through Jake’s apartment letting the smell of coffee carry you to the kitchen. He’d left a post it on the carafe, telling you to be ready by 6 for drinks at the hard deck and you laughed, some things truly did stay the same. Six pm rolled around all too soon and you were dressed in your favorite sundress, hair and makeup set to perfection and Jake pulled the two of you into the lot of the beloved navy bar. Pulling you from your thoughts he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“If you start feeling uncomfortable you just say the word and we’re out, no muss no fuss. Just relax and enjoy tonight with our friends.”

You smiled up at him, grateful that he always seemed to know what you needed to hear.

“Come on Tex let’s get in there and celebrate our friends.”

The bar was closed to only friends and family tonight, everyone near and dear to the happy couple congregating for their rehearsal dinner. Stepping inside it was like being transported back to the past; sounds, smells, everything was the same as it had been when you left. Jake goes in ahead of you, keeping an eye out for a certain mustached aviator but as you both made it to the bar the general consensus was that he hadn’t made it yet. You greeted Penny and Mav with hugs and congratulations, both so glad that you could make it. Mav caught your eye as you ordered a drink from Jimmy, and you knew what he had to say before he even started.

“He-“

“I’m sure he does Pete. I wish it changed anything, but it doesn’t. This is your day, you don’t need to waste it worrying about the past, I’m ok I promise.”

He just wanted his godson to be happy, you knew that. But it wasn’t that easy, too much time had passed and you were uneasy enough thinking about having to see him tonight. So with a squeeze to his arm and a smile you made your way across the bar to the pool tables and your former squad.

Rowdy and full of mischief, that’s the best way you could describe them, whooping and cat calling you as you crossed the threshold, enveloping you in hugs and remarks at how you’d been missed. Phoenix sidles up to you now, bumps her hip against yours with a Cheshire Cat grin, the two of you had never lost contact during the past 6 months and you were grateful for another person looking out for you tonight.

“I’ve missed you cutie! It’s just not the same around here, still can’t believe you left me to take care of the kids by myself.” You both laugh at that, looking towards your boys now as they play fight and place bets at who can kick the others ass at pool, knowing without a doubt that Jake will take the winnings.

“It feels good to be home Nix, I didn’t realize just how much I missed everyone until I got here. Florida is nice, I love the group I have there but the daggers are my family.” You trail off, trying to suppress the tears threatening to leak from your eyes.

She pulls you in for another hug, kisses the side of your head. “It’s going to be a good weekend buddy, I can feel it.”

Bradley’s late. He knows he should have left earlier but he’d been dragging his feet. Mav had texted to tell him you were here and he had to pull over on the highway to empty his stomach. His nerves are shot, pulling the bronco into the lot with shaking hands he attempts to pull himself together, knowing you are just inside has him feeling faint.

“Get your shit together Bradshaw, don’t lose your cool.”

He sucks in a deep breath and opens the door.

After grabbing a beer and getting two pitiful sympathetic looks from Penny and Mav, he turns towards his group and lays his eyes on you. It’s like a punch to the gut, you have always been breathtaking but after having only the memories on his phone to look at he knows for sure they pale in comparison to the real thing. His feet begin moving of their own accord, brain hasn’t quite caught up to what he’s doing and it feels like a magnet is dragging him towards the one place he has longed to be. You are arm and arm with Coyote, animatedly telling him a story with sparkling eyes and Bradley is falling in love all over again. He skirts the outside of the group, settles in to a seat next to Bob and Fanboy hoping he can keep from startling you. But you feel his presence because of course you do, and he can tell the moment your energy shifts. You keep looking at him in the corner of your eye, arms wrapped tightly around yourself and it breaks his heart. His view is obscured by Hangman all too soon, leaning in to the table to catch his eye.

“Rooster”

“Hangman”

“We aren’t gonna have any issues tonight are we?” Jake asks with his signature smirk and lazy southern drawl, it’s charming to some but to Bradley it’s like nails on a chalkboard.

“I’m not here to make things uncomfortable bagman, just here to fulfill my duty to Mav as best man. Y/N is a big girl and doesn’t need a babysitter, if she wants to talk to me I’m happy to listen to anything she says, I’d be an idiot not to”

“You’re an idiot either way Bradshaw but if you make Stormy girl cry tonight you’ll be showing up to the ceremony tomorrow with a black eye, just keep that in mind.”

“Understood.”

Jake blinks back the shock, didn’t expect Bradley to be amenable towards him at all. They have avoided each other at all costs in social gatherings ever since the split, Jake knew nothing good would come from stirring it back up and Bradley looked like a kicked puppy most of the time. Shrugging it off, Jake nods to the group at the table and heads back to where you are, encouraging hand on your shoulder. He’d be damned if someone ruined your night, so instead of letting you wallow he scooped you up to pick a song on the jukebox and took you to the dance floor. Spinning you and reveling in your giggles and bright eyes, it almost made him forget that he wasn’t supposed to look at you the way he was now. He’s been so good about keeping it together all these years, making sure to have a date to keep him occupied when you were cuddled up to Rooster and firmly planting himself in the friend zone. He knew that’s what you needed and he’d always go above and beyond to make you happy. Even if it meant he couldn’t have you.

You have no idea how long you’ve been here, speeches have been given and far too many shots have been had; the room is too hot and slightly spinning so you make your way outside for some fresh air. He’s there of course, smoking a cigarette and watching the waves. Looking him over now you can see the little changes, he’s not as bulky anymore, face and torso are definitely thinner than they used to be. He looks tired, to the bone judging by the dark circles under his eyes and the way he seems to slouch in on himself, no longer the larger than life persona he used to project. You think for a moment you should go back in, but as he flicks the used up cigarette into the wind you are both face to face, pain clearly etched in his features as he takes you in.

“Hi.” It’s all you can make out, you think of how ludicrous it is that after 6 months of heartbreak the best you can scrounge up is a measly hi.

“Hi Storm, it’s good to see you.”

“Y-yeah it’s good to see you too, it’s been a while.”

He runs his hand over his scarred chin, looking you over and it almost looks like he might reach out for you but he thinks better of it.

“I’m sorry Bradley- I can’t do this, I know what you’re gonna say and I feel it too but it doesn’t change anything. We’re the same people we were 6 months ago, and love isn’t going to fix it.”

You were trembling, tears pouring down your face and Bradley couldn’t stand it. He’d broken your heart and let you go, but he’d never once stopped thinking of you. Just two steps forward and you could be back in his arms, and he thought of Mav’s saying “don’t think, just do.” So he closed the distance and pulled you into his arms, your beautiful face cradled in his hands as he wiped away your tears.

“Baby, my sweet sweet girl I know I fucked it up, and I’ve spent every day of the last 6 months thinking of what went wrong. I don’t deserve it; I know that but please even if it’s just for tonight let me love you.”

You didn’t know if it was the alcohol spurring you on or the fact that you’d missed his touch so much it physically hurt, but pulling his lips to yours felt like the easiest decision you’d ever made.

You heard the door swing open behind you and someone cleared their throat, causing you to jump backwards out of his grasp, moment over as quickly as it had begun. You spun around to find Jake, eyes full of anger directed right at Bradley and then he looked towards you; disappointment clearly etched in his features.

“I couldn’t find you, Payback said you’d gone outside so I came to make sure you’re alright.”

You feel your cheeks redden with embarrassment, you had promised yourself you wouldn’t be alone with Bradley and yet here you are less than 24 hours later letting him kiss you.

Jake is still staring you down, you shift a little feeling extremely small between the two people you love most.

“Everything’s ok Jake, let’s uh- let’s go home ok? It’s late and I’ve had more than I should have.” You grab at his elbow to steer him towards the lot to the truck, steely gaze still focused on Bradley but he lets you move him, starting a fight isn’t going to fix a thing and he knows more than he’s let on. Maybe it was time to play his hand and let you know just how much of a piece of shit your so called “Prince Charming” really was.

The ride back was eerily quiet, tension flooding the cab of the truck while you spent every second overthinking. Why had you let it get that far? You’d done so good, it’d been half a year without any contact and you’d folded *so* fast, it was so embarrassing. Ugh and for Jake to be the one that found you?! You knew he’d be pissed and expected a thorough lashing but he didn’t say a word. Just stoically stared at the road, no smart ass remark to be found as he white knuckled the steering wheel. He pulled into the drive and bolted for the door, didn’t even stop to let you out like he normally does. Taking a deep breath and mentally preparing for a long ass night trying to drag his feelings out, you made your way into his townhouse.

He’s nowhere to be found when you step inside, probably holed up in his room so he won’t pick a fight; you know the routine fairly well. He hates hurting your feelings so he shuts down and lets himself cool off before he talks to you, normally just acts like nothing ever happened because he’d rather not bring it all back up again. But when you go to check his bedroom he’s not there either; door ajar and completely devoid of Jake. Finally you head to the back porch, he’s there slumped in one of the lounge chairs, already cracked open another beer and staring down at his phone, determined to look anywhere but at you.

You plop down into the chair next to him, knocking one of your knees with his, hoping if you needle him enough he’ll tell you what’s wrong.

“Jakey”

“Don’t. Don’t do this right now Y/N, just let me be before I say something we will both regret.”

You know you should just let it go, but the harshness in his tone is so out of character but frankly you’ve had enough of everyone tiptoeing around you.

“No.”

“No?”

“No I want to do this now, what is it that you aren’t telling me? You seem to have forgotten that I know you better than your own mother Seresin and I can tell when you’ve been holding back. You looked like you wanted to beat Bradley into the ground earlier and I know I screwed up and let him get to me tonight but im a big girl Jake I can make my own mis-“

“You didn’t make any mistakes though!” He boomed, causing you to jump in your seat. “ you’ve spent this whole time blaming yourself for leaving, for not communicating but you have NO idea. This was never something to blame yourself for and the fact that you let him back in tonight knowing what I know makes me SICK.” He’s never had an outburst like this with you, chest heaving and shaking hands he can’t seem to stop, he knows it’s all about to bubble up but he can’t stuff the secrets back down.

“What do you mean, what you know? Jake what am I missing?” You whisper softly, you have a sudden glaring realization and it feels like everything is crashing down, it can’t be can it? You need him to say it to confirm but you wish the earth would swallow you both up; everything changes if he says what you think he will.

“He cheated on you, a month before the mission, and he thought he’d gotten away with it but apparently Fanboy caught him and Mirage fucking in the hard deck bathroom. He agreed not to say anything, but when you left she suddenly started showing up more, he wasn’t even trying to hide her y/n! Everyone knew he was taking her home after nights at the bar, and Fanboy couldn’t keep it in anymore so he told me. Bradshaw was jealous of your success, he took the mission away from you and to really stick it to you he fucked a fellow squad mate behind your back. As far as I’m concerned he’s dead to you, he has no right to come crawling back and you deserve to know it all so he doesn’t take advantage of you again.”

It all made perfect sense now, Bradley had had one too many late nights at work claiming he was shooting the shit with Mav, never interested in taking you to bed like he had been before the mission talk started up, but you’d chalked it up to stress. Always making excuses for him, assuring yourself that he wouldn’t dare cheat because why would he have given you his mother’s ring? He’d told you he wanted a love like Goose and Carole had, promised he’d love you forever. Of course he’d lied, he’d always been more concerned about his career path and his accomplishments, any time you did something of merit his congratulations always seemed tinged with something sour, but he was happy for you right? He loved you right? Now you didn’t know for sure.

You reeled back at the realization, all the puzzle pieces fitting together to make a heartbreaking story, and you felt a surge of nausea come up quickly rushing to the side of the yard to throw up. You could feel Jake’s cool hand holding your hair back, the other rubbing circles into your back telling you to breathe. He’d always been a safe haven in your life, steadfast no matter who he was seeing at the time. You came first to him, your friendship and partnership in the air like an unspoken vow between the two of you. You were being hit with one revelation after another tonight, and you jerked away from him suddenly; throat dry as the desert as you quickly made your way inside to the sink to rinse out your mouth.

“Hey hey, talk to me honey. I’m sorry, shit I’m so sorry you had to find out like this; I should have never let it get this far but you seemed happy in Florida and I didn’t want to open old wounds. Please Stormy, look at me baby I need to know we are ok.”

Now he’s the one wringing his hands, Hangman is never nervous, he’s always larger than life and the most confident person in the room. He looks so boyish now, standing in the dim light of the kitchen, the fear on his face so unnatural on his handsome face.

You couldn’t deny that he was beautiful, you’d always seen the way he attracted the attention of everyone in a room, like the definition of the word gorgeous come to life or the hero on the cover of a romance novel. Just classically handsome, and yes he was smug and he knew just how good he looked but he’d never put on any kind of mask when it came to you. Let himself be vulnerable, trusted you would keep his secrets and never make fun of him for his faults. Now looking at him in the quiet of his home, you realized that Bradley may have physically cheated; but maybe he wasn’t the only one that blew up your relationship. Some part of you from the day Jake Seresin had walked into your life had always belonged to him. Admitting it to yourself now was jarring; how long had you let yourself think he wasn’t everything to you? You found yourself terrified and excited at the thought, suddenly hyper aware of how close he was to you, knowing that if you crossed that line with him tonight you’d never be the same. You tilted your head up to look at him, reaching a hand out so he could close the distance, and watched him relax into your touch knowing you weren’t angry with him.

“Stormy-l-“

“Jake…Do you love me?”

He goes cold at the realization, oh God you had figured it out. He’d tried to suppress it for so long, but obviously with the clarity that had been gained tonight you seemed to be able to see the truth. He’d always been in love with you, but decided that having you in his life was more important than getting his feelings out so he’d gallantly put them aside. When he’d found out the truth about Rooster he’d been unmoored by the whole thing. How the hell could anyone ever hurt you like that? What kind of moron has the perfect girl and destroys her happiness? But he’d let you go, knowing you needed to run and find yourself in the aftermath; Jake was just grateful he could continue to be a part of your life in whatever way you needed. But oh God you knew now, he could see it on your face and since it had been a night for truth and honesty he told the consequences to fuck themselves, pulling you into his arms and pressing his forehead to yours.

“I could deny it, and we could just go back to the way things are if that’s what you need. We can continue this weekend like we have been and I’ll let you go back to Florida. Because you matter too much to me to be selfish with you, but oh angel I want *so* badly to be selfish. So you tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”

He’s so open, pouring his heart out to you and you can’t look away, his bright green eyes searching for any kind of reservation on your part, and when he doesn’t see any he grins that perfect lopsided grin of his, the one that makes your heart grow ten sizes. It’s not a rushed or sudden clashing of teeth and tongue, it’s a slow movement of lips molding together, hands mapping each other in a way that’s never been allowed before. It takes your breath away and as you gasp he slides his tongue against yours, reveling in the little noises you make as you grasp at the collar of his shirt, the need to have him closer overwhelming. After a while with the willpower of a god he pulls himself back from you a little, stroking your cheek and chuckling as you stagger forward trying to chase his kisses. He tilts your face to look at him and he’s warm all over, it’s everything he’s ever wanted and he has to tell you before he lets it get too far.

“I do Y/N, I love you. I always have baby. I want it all with you kid, and I know it probably feels sudden, but I can’t lie to you; I want everything with you. I’ll wait as long as you need because I’m in this no matter what, I don’t think I could stop if I tried.” He says with a watery laugh, and you realize he’s got tears in his eyes.

You are pretty sure you turned into a puddle on the floor, arms and legs feel like jello as he holds you up between himself and the counter. You could agree that yes it was sudden, hell you’d just let Bradley kiss you less than two hours ago, but you couldn’t deny that in all the times you’d kissed Rooster it had never felt like this. How were you ever supposed to go back to the way things were? Did you even want to? The thoughts were swirling around in your head now and he could tell you were lost. So he kissed you once more, just a featherlight peck and then stepped back from you.

“We’ve had a lot of big reveals tonight baby girl, how about we take a beat and sleep, let tomorrow figure it all out for us.”

He was right of course, it has been an overwhelming evening and you two should probably look it over with fresh eyes, so you let him lead you down the hall. He thinks you’re going to head to the guest bedroom but you surprise him, stepping into his bedroom and closing the door.

“Stormy, we can’t- not tonight honey you and i are wrung out-“

“Shhh, we aren’t doing anything tonight Jake, just hold me ok? I need to be close to you.”

He peels off his clothes and lets you change into one of his T shirts, tangling his arms and legs with yours as you snuggle up into bed. Drifting off to sleep, not knowing if he hears you, you whisper to him

“Jake I think I love you too.”

Jake Seresin Masterlist

Tagging- @attapullman

@bobgasm

@mamachasesmayhem

@roosterforme

@pinkdaisies1106

@angelbabyyy99

@nouis-bum

@djs8891

@purelyfiction

@86laura11

@shanimallina87

@floydsglasses

@floydsmuse

@nervousnerdwitch

@mygyn

@jessicab1991

@its-the-pilot

@dempy

[blippymilk]

Big Brother Veneer x Little Sister Reader

❥ Definitely your biggest supporter and hater at the same time (normal brother behavior)

❥ Although you wouldn’t consider having Veneer as a sibling a “normal” experience

❥ At all.

❥ He had very mixed feelings about you for the first few months of your life

❥ He knew he wasn’t the baby of the family anymore according to Velvet (and dude loves attention soooo)

❥ He thinks your cute but thinks he’s cuter

❥ May or may not have tried to plot with Velvet on how to get a stork to come by and take you back to where you came from (he was pure ok)

❥ For the record Velvet did not agree (she wants Veneer to experience what happened to her too)

❥ The second he learned to love you, you were his favorite person ever.

❥ Your parents stopped worrying about you when they couldn’t find you because they knew Veneer always had you

❥ When he first tried singing he would take you to his room, grab his microphone, and sing to you. And when you clapped for him with your little hands he felt so pleased

❥ As you became a bit older Veneer turned into your biggest cheerleader

❥ He always woke up before anyone else in the house to feed you or warm your milk when you were fussy

❥ He was there when you took your first step

❥ He was there cheering you on when you said your first word

❥ He was there when you took a bite of your first solid food

❥ Whatever the occasion you name it

❥ As you got a little older your parents tended to notice you had a lot more personality than they expected

❥ And it was sort of like Veneer’s (and a little of Velvet)

❥ Veneer loved that for you

❥ You were a pretty stand your ground kid, with a little sass

❥ Veneer risked being late on his first day back at school to see your first day in kindergarten

❥ Gave you as many words of advice as he could

“You go in there and show them who’s boss. And let me know if anyone tries to mess with you, I’ll deal with them.”

❥ Veneer got smacked a little by his mom for the last sentence but he still stood by his word

❥ He was so happy for you later on when you came home excited

❥ Getting a little older and mature (around 5th grade) Veneer was basically your partner in crime

❥ Something was always happening under your household and it always landed back on you two

❥ Veneer’s the type of brother to know his parents will say no so he’ll send his younger sibling to ask

❥ One time Veneer encouraged you to watch a scary movie with him while the adults were away. You agreed and Velvet did not want to be apart of it.

❥ So by time your parents got back and it was lights out, you were shaking in your bed

❥ You ended up running to your parents to tell and you thought Veneer would be mad at you just for them to find him shaking in his bed too

❥ You both got grounded for a week

❥ When you made it to middle school Veneer noticed your energy shifting a little bit

❥ He knew there was a lot that could be happening to you in middle school because he hated middle school

❥ It could be teachers, students, homework, guys/girl problems, bullies, etc.

❥ So he convinced you to come to him whenever you needed to spill

❥ And you did

❥ Veneer definitely helped you with your fashion sense

❥ …Veneer when you get into your first relationship…😟

❥ Not exactly smooth sailing

❥ That’s why you tried to hide it at first

❥ Just so you know it did not work out and Veneer felt almost offended 😭

❥ Ends up getting along with them really well (if he likes their persona)

❥ But when it’s time for your first breakup he’s along with you every step of the way

“I never liked them anyways to be honest. You deserve way better.”

❥ Will definitely go with you to a school dance if no one else wants to

❥ And if you’re not into school dances yall are going somewhere fun like a movie, or a trampoline park

❥ Your brother Veneer who supports you reguardless of what you want to do in the future (he won’t ever let you be a lazy bum though)

❥ He cried when you started highschool

❥ If you both are in highschool together he’s your “bodyguard”

❥ Please don’t let him find out anybody is messing with you

❥ Likes to see what outfits you come up with on your own and he adores the way you dress

❥ His love for you never changes

❥ Veneer is overall just the best brother you could ask for