#yes he makes a cameo here!

[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

The Music Goes On and On

Rating: K/General

Setting: in the decade before the main story.

Synopsis: Shinji is going about his daily life at his job in a music store, until he sees an old face from the past.

AN: the winner of my first poll! This was fun to write, so thank you to everyone who voted for it!

I hope I did Shinji justice here. He's a character I love, and I've always wanted to know what he and Visoreds did after escaping the the Living world and before they introduced themselves to Ichigo. I've broached the topic before in As Months Go By, As Season Change part II, but I wanted to write a specific instance of his life in the World of the Living. I had intended this to be more comedic, but well...it's me, and it ended up more angsty with one sappy moment.

In terms of research, I looked into Japanese 1990’s music and the workforce during the 1970’s. I'll briefly go over it here, but if you want to skip it and get to the fic, continue to the line break before the story begins.

For music, I mainly used information from this article about Japanese jazz bands, doing Youtube searches for 1990s Japanese music, and searching for what records stores in Japan typically look like.

The songs, albums, and bands mentioned in this fic are:

B'z: a Japanese rock duo who sold millions of albums during the 1990's. They're one of Japan's best-selling artists even to this day, having sold over 80 million albums. Sasori ni sasa reta by Kimidori Review by Glay: this was one of the best-selling albums in Japan for 1997, and sold over 2 million copies in it's first week. Casiopea: a Japanese jazz fusion band who have created over 40 albums as of the time of writing this fic. They've been active since the 1970's, and have gone through four phases with different band members; in this story, they're in their second phase. Light and Shadow by Casiopea Casiopea by Casiopea Yasuko Agawa: a Japanese jazz and blues singer. Before releasing her debut album, Love-Bird, in 1978, she starred in movies in the early 1970’s. This included the Bloodthirst Trilogy, a Japanese horror film trilogy that involves unconnected stories about vampires. Agawa starred in Chi o suu bara, which is the final film in the trilogy and it's title has been translated to Evil of Dracula in English. Love-Bird by Yasuko Agawa All Right by Me by Yasuko Agawa Scenery by Ryo Fuuki (also mentioned in As Months Go By, As Season Change part II)

In terms of the workforce research, I had to change the timeline in light of what I found. Rather than seeing a coworker Shinji knew from 30 years ago, it's now 21 years. This is because the store they worked at together, Yodobashi Camera, opened it's first store in 1975, and in this fic Shinji got a job with the company a year later. In it's early years, the stores primarily sold cameras and photography equipment, but eventually branched off into other technology and home electronics such as TVs and PCs. Nowadays it's online version is incredibly popular and one of Japan's most visited online shopping platforms. Why a camera store? I can't explain why, but I have this weird feeling that Shinji might've worked in a camera store at some point. Maybe because old camera's used to have inverted lenses, meaning they could be upside down (and we all know how Shinji feels about things that are inverted).

Finally, there's a slight joke with the name Shinji chooses to use here. From what I saw in my research, ‘Mako’ can use the same Kanji characters as ‘Shinji’, (which are ‘真子‘ and if I’m not mistaken have the same meanings of ‘truth’/’sincerity’ and ‘children’) but both names can also be spelled using other Kanji characters too (but it changes the meaning of the name). While ‘Mako’ tends to be primarily a girl's name, it seems it can also be a boy’s name too, and from what I can see, the spelling of it can be same for both boys and girls when using the same characters as ‘Shinji’. If I got any of this wrong, please let me know so I can change it. My sources for all of this were here and here.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this!

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The bell above the music store’s entrance rings as the latest customer leaves. Shinji doesn’t glance their way, taking and unfurling a poster of B’z from his cart. After pinning it to the wall, he lifts out a box of CDs to restock the ‘New Releases’ display rack at the front.

 Karakura Beats Records Store is empty save for him and Kana, who resumes pricing the latest shipment of vinyls behind the cash register. The morning sunlight pours in through the many posters and notices stuck to the windows facing out on to the quiet street, casting blocks of shadow over the many vinyls and CDs.

From the speakers high up on the walls, a tune he’s never heard before begins to play quietly through the air. Shinji drums his fingers on the CD rack to the tune in between stacking in copies of ‘Review’ – which will no doubt be gone by the end of the week if the hype around the album and the sales figures from other music stores are to be believed.

Eventually, he’s swaying his body to the beat too. “Yo, Kana-san!”

She looks up, her bright, dyed hair falling over one shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Which track is this?” he asks, still swaying as he tops up the rack the. “It’s a good one, I might buy the album if the rest is any good.”

“ ‘Sasori ni sasa reta’ by Kimidori.” She grins. “I knew I could get you to like something I like.”

“Didn’t think you’d like hip hop.”

“Not much of it, but I heard this one when I was in my last year of high school.”

Done with the CDs, Shinji returns to his cart and rolls it behind the cash register. “Ya done with those?” he says, pointing at the vinyls.

Sticking a price on the top one, Kana picks up the pile and drops them into the cardboard box that just had 'Review' in it. “Done now.”

He goes to pick it up, but blinks down at the cover. There’s three shadows on a white surface, and above them with is a de-saturated sky, and running along the middle is a dark lake and the silhouettes of hills and houses. The album’s title is in English, as is the band name. Even so, he recognises the name without having to read the blue slip on the vinyl’s side with a translation. “Huh, when did this come out?”

“In September. The old drummer came back, apparently.”

“Ya mean Jimbo Akira?”

“Yeah, but it’s got a guest drummer too.” Kana cocks an eyebrow at him. “I’m surprised you don’t know. You like Casiopea, right?”

Shinji shrugs. “Some of their stuff, sure. I can take ‘em or leave them, just surprised I didn’t know about this one.”

“They release something every year, right?” Kana says, moving on to the next stacks of vinyls and CDs to price. “Shouldn’t be too surprising.”

No, it shouldn’t. He’d been listening to their music since their self-titled debut album in 1979, and even though he’d lost some interest in their music by the late 1980’s, he still kept tabs on them. But then, even after being in the world for as long as he has, the passage of time is so different it sometimes escapes him.

Resisting the urge to shake his head, Shinji puts two other boxes of CDs and vinyls Kana had prepared into his cart, and rolls it down the right-side aisle.

Hecomes to a stop at his favorite section. Written above the display racks and cupboards is ‘Jazz’. When he’d started here three months ago, while he'd been impressed the store's collection was better than others he'd come across, the section had been smaller and in desperate need to of a wider range of artists. After showing his extensive knowledge about jazz and blues music had been one of the reason’s he’d been hired by he and Kana’s manager.

Aside from the usual roles in customer services, he’d been tasked with refurbished the store a little, putting up posters for bands and music artists on the walls and redoing the titles over each genre section. While doing the latter task, he had to withhold the temptation to write every genre name upside down – he’d tried to argue it would make them stand out from other stores, but backed down when Kana protested against the idea, saying ti would confuse customers.

The jazz section was his unofficial space in the whole store, the one where he got to arrange it as he wanted. The entire row against the wall has a wide variety of artists, from the famous to the up and coming to local talent. He goes to the where the rest of Casiopea’s discography is and clears a space for the vinyls.

The bell rings again. Kana greets their new customer from the counter and offers assistance. Judging from the voice that thanks her, the person is elderly.

Shinji doesn’t listen to the rest, but as he makes his way down the middle aisle to stack some vinyls and CDs in the ‘Rock’ section, the older man remains in his peripheral. He takes out the box, balancing it on the rack with his arm over the top, and unloads the vinyls two at a time into an empty space with the others. He frowns at the sensation in the back of his mind; something nags in the back of his mind, begging him to look at the man.

The bell rings again. This time by the sounds of it, it’s one of their regulars, a young woman who’s name doesn’t remember. She and Kana chatter away, discussing the weather and family. It’s so ordinary, so far away from all of the worlds he’s ever known. He hasn’t been in the Soul Society for decades, and yet there are times like now when it feels like only yesterday he was a captain.

With all the vinyls stacked in, he begins to lift the almost empty box back into the cart. However, his arm bumps into someone, clattering the records inside. Shinji turns to apologize, but his throat closes up involuntarily when he sees it’s the older man from before.

“Oh, sorry, please excuse…” The old man trails off.

Shinji frowns, that nagging sensation getting stronger now that he has a closer look at the man. He’s not as old as he thought. His hair is greying, but there’s still some dark hair on the top of his head and in his thick eyebrows. Wrinkles ring around his eyes and the ends of his mouth, but they aren’t deep, only just beginning to show more prominently. Behind his glasses, the man’s eyes are dark brown, and widened with probably the same strange feeling of familiarity as Shinji is experiencing.

Then, when the man tries to speak again, and his brows furrow into a frown, it hits Shinji.

He nearly has to bite his tongue from saying the man’s name aloud. “No harm done,” he somehow manages to say without any of the spiking nerves thrumming through him.

He tries to remain calm as he continues stacking the vinyls in, but he can feel the man’s – Keiji Mimura’s -- lingering gaze on him, even as he turns and pretends to browse the albums in front of him.

He has to get out of this fast. He can hear the cash register going; Kana must be ringing up the regular, which means she’ll be free any second now. He hoists the box back into the cart, planning to head back to the counter, then offer to take over the register for Kana. She’d go out on to floor, probably keep Keiji distracted and try to sell him some obscure rock album she likes. If he ends up buying the album, Kana will likely keep the conversation going all the way to register, get Shinji to move aside so she can ring Keiji up, and then he’ll be gone from the store, and Shinji’s life again.

Shinji doesn’t even make it three steps when Keiji speaks up behind him. “…Hirako-san?”

Shinji has no choice but to stop and turn around. In the face of the man’s shocked expression, Shinji somehow manages a smile. “Excuse me? Did you say something.” It sounds lame even to his own ears.

The man shakes his head. “Forgive me, it’s just…you look and sound like someone I used to know.”

It takes everything in Shinji to not drop the smile, but even then, the corners of his mouth twitch. How to get out of this?

He and the other Visoreds had managed to keeps their identities a secret up until now, switching jobs every few years, never getting close to any coworkers and never revealing anything about their personal lives. They mostly find work outside of Karakura Town in the major cities, countryside towns, and to a smaller extent the towns that surrounded Karakura. The commutes were a pain, but they needed to make a living and not expose themselves as being ‘ageless’ to local residents. This was his first job in Karakura Town, and it had partly been out of desperation when he couldn’t get another anywhere else.

He can dismiss Keiji, just treat this as an awkward encounter with an elderly man who had a case of mistaken identity. It happens, more often than he realized before being forced into the World of the Living.

It’s what he should do.

Later, as he's walking back to the warehouse and then while being lectured by the other Visoreds after telling them about his day, he will reflect on this moment where he chose to do something far more troublesome for himself.

Shinji’s widens his eyes, pretending to come to a realisation. “Ah! Wait. I think I understand your confusion.” He chuckles and shakes his head to himself for effect, leaving the older man bewildered. “I’m terribly sorry, sir,” Shinji continues. “Did you used to work with Hirako Shinji?”

“Y-Yes!” Keiji stammers out.

“Ah, ya see, he’s my father. I’m his son.”

The older man blinks, briefly scanning Shinji from head to toe. “He never said anything about children,” he murmurs under his breath.

Shinji pretends he didn’t hear it, remaining rooted in place, grin plastered wide over his face and a fisted hand on his hip. Seeing the man’s unfaltering skepticism, he bows slightly and holds his hand out to him. “I’m Hirako…Mako.”

Of all the names! He purses his lips and continues to stare at the ground, hard, as he inwardly begs, Please don’t think too much on it, please don’t think to much on it, Keiji-san, don’t think --

After a beat, the older man bows and shakes Shinji’s hand. “I’m Mimura Keiji. Forgive me for before, it’s just that you look so much like Hirako Shinji – your father, I meant.”

“That’s fine. I’ve gotten that quite a bit, actually. Everyone’s always saying I look like my old man.”

That gets a huff of a chuckle out Keiji; Shinji can’t tell whether it’s due to the comment, how informally he’d spoken, or how the way he spoke was identical to his 'father'. It's probably the latter.

Keiji lets go of Shinji’s hand and they both straighten back up. The store bell rings, briefly drawing Shinji’s attention to Kana. To his chagrin she doesn’t look his way, instead continuing her chat with their regular as she makes her purchases.

“I worked with your father a long time ago.” Keiji explains. “We were coworkers”

Shinji keeps his grin small as he returns his focus back to his old coworker. “Where did you work with him? The old man’s had a lot of jobs across his life.”

Keiji smiles. “So he said. We used to work at Yodobashi Camera together.”

“Ah yeah! He was a sales clerk there. He barely knew a thing about camera’s when he started, huh?”

Another huff of a chuckle broadens the old man's smile. “He learned on the job. I was no expert at the time by any means, but he even had to learn which button to press to take a picture.”

Shinji chortles, both from the memory and the embarrassment of those years. He’d been the World of the Living for several decades by that point. He’d known about cameras but was so concerned with training to control his Visored abilities and stay afloat money-wise he hadn’t ever learned about some of the most basic things for humans.

“He was all right with the other technology of course,” Keiji continues. “We often had shifts together. Every now and then we went for drinks at ‘The Golden Cup’ with everyone else.”

Despite himself, Shinji can’t help but grin wider as nostalgia flutters in his chest. He and the other Visoreds tried to maintain a certain distance between themselves and the cowrokers in whatever job they worked in. Regardless, on rare occasions, he’d indulge himself and go drinking with his coworkers. He did it more often with the employees of Yodobashi Camera than in any other job, and he’d never had a bad night out with them. They were a good bunch of hard workers who knew how to party even harder afterwards -- or at least as much as they could given that they all needed to wake up and go to work the next day.

“I -- He mentioned that too,” Shinji eventually says. “He always came home in a good mood after those nights, tripping over his feet."

Keiji gives a nervous snort. "I must admit, I did worry about how much he drank sometimes."

Shinji did too. He recalls the concerned pinch of Keiji's brows when he was about to leave, wobbling on his feet. He rarely got drunk, and he didn't always understand why he chose to get drunk with those guys.

"Nah, he was always sharp," Shinji says, "even when drunk. Heck, he could even play mahjong while drunk and still win." He let's Keiji's chuckle fill in the air for a pause. "He used to play that game with his coworkers too, right?”

“Ah, yes! I used to enjoy our games.” Keiji sighs. “It’s been a long time since then, and Yodobashi Camera has certainly grown bigger and bigger over the years.”

“Ya can’t escape them these days, huh? Feels like they’re at every railway station in the major cities.” Shinji leans back against the vinyls racks, trying to appear casual. “So, do you live in Karakura Town now?”

“Oh, no. My wife and I are visiting our daughter. I assume you live here?”

“Yeah, I moved here about a year ago.” A lie, so natural sounding from years of saying many more like it before.

He can sense the next question coming – something to effect of ‘Do your parents live here as well?’ – so he quickly continues, “It’s a small town, but there’s a few places I can recommend for visitors if your daughter hasn’t taken you to them already.”

“We only arrived two days ago. We visited one of the shrines with her yesterday. My wife and daughter are having breakfast at a cafe nearby. We’re planning to walk around the shopping district this afternoon.”

“All good ideas. There’s also Tsubakidai Park, it’s always nice to walk around there. There’s also a music performance happening there two days from now, local bands mostly.”

“Is there now?”

Shinji points to the most recent poster taped up next to the store’s entrance. He briefly glances at Kana, who had gone back to pricing the vinyls, but she’d stopped at some point, staring at their exchange. She eyes him with a raised brow. Her expression is asking him ‘Is everything okay?’

“See that there?” Shinji says, keeping Keiji distracted long enough to wink at Kana in reassurance. “It’s got the details for it if you’re interested.”

With a shrug and a good-natured roll of her eyes, she returns to her task.

Keiji nods. “I’ll be sure to look at it on my way out.” Turning back, he looks over Shinji shoulder. “Speaking of, I came here to get an album I was told would be here. I believe it will be under jazz.”

“Yeah? Which one?” Shinji asks as he leads Keiji to the ‘Jazz’ section.

“It’s often hard to find, but Umei -- oh, she's my daughter -- thought I should try my luck here. She said this store often sells music from older artists. ‘Retro’, she calls it.”

“She ain’t wrong.”

Keiji frowns thoughtfully when they stop in front of the rows of CDs and vinyls. He let’s out a sudden, ironic laugh. “Actually, now that I think about it, it’s from a singer your father introduced me to.”

Shinji already knew, and his heart squeezed for a moment. “Oh, yeah? Which one?”

“Agawa Yasuko.”

The memory comes to him. He’d gone drinking with Keiji and his coworkers, and they ended up discussing films they love. When the topic of The Bloodthirsty Trilogy came up, Shinji brought up how Yasuko Agawa had gone on to make music since then. Only Keiji was interested, and took up Shinji’s suggestion to go buy her debut album. He hadn’t seen someone as smitten with a jazz album as Keiji (and apparently his wife) was. They discussed her singing the next day during lulls at work, and for the first time in a while, Shinji felt relaxed, briefly forgetting the troubles that always weigh on his mind.

“Well, her albums are just here,” Shinji says, gesturing to the left-side display racks. “Were you after CD or vinyl?”

“CD,” Keiji says while steps around him. He bends over the CDs and thumbs through them. “You have most of her albums here.”

“It’s like your daughter said, we’re retro here.”

He takes out a copy of ‘All Right With Me’ with a grin. “This is the one! I listened to it last year, but haven’t been able to find a copy of it until today.”

“It’s a good one, she’s always had a great voice. I can recommend any of her albums, they're all good.”

“Ah, are you a fan of jazz music too? Just like your father?”

“Yeah, like my old man, jazz is one of my favourite genres. It never gets old.”

“He said the same thing.”

Then, because one of half of him is now stuck in the past, Shinji says, “My father mentioned you had a wife, a daughter, and a son. They doing okay?”

Keiji hums in ascent. “Yes, very well. I��m not sure if your father told you, but my wife, Kyoko, works in a bakery. She has worked in the same place for over twenty years now, and got promoted to manager five years in.”

“That’s incredible!”

Keiji nods firmly and returns to flicking through the albums. “She’s always been determined. Umei is a newspaper reporter for the local news here, and my son, Naoya, is an accountant in Tokyo.” He grins. “He’ll be having our first grandchild soon. My wife is eager to be there in the weeks before the baby is born, she already has gifts planned for him. He’s a lot like his mother, determined and hard-working. I have no doubt he’ll be a good father.”

Shinji has the sudden urge to reminisce with this man. To talk about their days in the store, where Shinji learned how to use a camera, and about their regular customers. To show he remembered the little details Keiji had told him about his life outside of work – how Kyoko would come to visit them with baked goods when she knew her husband hadn’t packed a lunch, or how happy he was about Umei’s first day of school, or when he was pleasantly surprised by Naoya’s sudden obsession with the new ‘Astro Boy’ anime. To talk about the music from that time, and see if he’d taken on other jazz and blues recommendations he’d made.

At Shinji’s silence, Keiji’s grin transforms into a bashful smile. “You’ll have to forgive me. I must seem like an old man rambling about my family and reminiscing about the past.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I get it. My old man worked at Yodobashi Camera over twenty years ago, and if I saw an old coworker, even if it was their kid, I’d want to talk about it.”

"Well, thank you then," Keiji says, “How is your father these days? I probably should've asked that first.”

Shinji knew it was coming, hovering over them from the moment Keiji recognised him without realising. Even so, the pit of his stomach plummets along with his grin. He’s at another crossroads.

He takes in the man’s features again. How the wrinkles gather deeper around his eyes and around his mouth as he speaks. The fact he wears glasses now, resting over the faint scar on his nose he got when he broke it during a high school baseball game – he’d tumbled after getting homebase and cracked it on the ground, Shinji recalls; it'd been a drunken confession made on one of the night he'd gone out with the coworkers.

He thought noticing age couldn’t affect him anymore. But seeing someone from his past, someone who he got along well with and truly wished the best for, it strikes something in him. He’d been a Shinigami for centuries, ferrying hundreds of Souls like him to the Soul Society. One day, Keiji will be met by a Shinigami when he passes on, and forget the life he’d lived by the time he gets to the Soul Society.

It’s then SHinji realises he's been living in this world for too long. That detachment, that knowledge that he was not like humans, has eroded over time, crumbling bit by bit, leaving only a thin slab behind. Hiyori was right; he should’ve left his job at Yodobashi Camera sooner. It's been one of the longer jobs he'd had, and he recalls trying to stuff down the bitterness of leaving it behind when he left on his last day.

It hadn't been right to drag Keiji along like this, for his own selfish whims of wanting to relieve the past. So he does the right thing this time.

Shinji looks off to the side. “He’s gone. So is my mother.”

In the pause, Keiji remains frozen in place, lost for words. “Oh, I…I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up…I had no idea.”

“It was three years ago. He and my mother were involved in a car accident.” Like all his lies, it comes out smooth and natural, like he is the son reflecting on grief he's only just overcome. He hates it.

Keiji shakes his head in disbelief. “That's awful, truly. I really am sorry.”

“Thank you, but you don’t have to be. I’m sorry you found out this way.”

Keiji is silent again, staring at the ground for a long moment before raising his head. There’s a faint mist across his eyes. “Your father and I only knew each other at work, and on the occasions he came to drink with the rest of us. Even so, I could always tell he was a good man. He worked hard, but he always had time to help others around the store too. Not just his coworkers, but also the customers.” His smile faintly returns. “I always wondered what happened to him after he left the store. I always thought, though, that wherever he went, he’d do good work.”

Keiji always saw the good in others, and in a time where Shinji still hadn’t fully processed Aizen’s betrayal, he’d been wary of the man at first. He'd reminded him of his seated officer Genji Isawa: a hard worker who could bring a smile and laugh to anyone who met him. Maybe this is why he'd eventually came around to being a little less guarded with him.

In his last year with the store, it was only then he’d begun to take an interest in his personal life and the lives of his coworkers, whether it was the rowdy Takahiro, or the quiet but hard working Kaneshiro. In some ways, now that he thought about it, Keiji might’ve been the closest thing he’d had to a friend in many years. Still kept at a distance, still lied to, but still an echo of a friend, one he probably would've had in another life.

He can't tell him any of this, not without it sounding like he truly knew him rather than a son telling a father's old coworker what his old man thought of him.

He'd put what little detachment he still had between him and his past, but now it came bleeding through like a bruise. If only he knew he was speaking these words directly to him and not to the son he thought he was.

“Thank you,” Shinji says quietly, still unable to meet Keiji’s eyes completely. “He’d have appreciated your words a lot.”

A sombre awkwardness settles over them, only broken when the store bell rings. A young couple come in, with the woman goig straight to the ‘New Releases’ rack. Shinji looks to Kana, who now unabashedly just stared at the scene unfolding in the corner of the shop. She’s only distracted away when the man who just entered asks for assistance.

Keiji bows. “Thank you for your assistance and for listening to my ramblings today, Hirako-san. I’ll go purchase this now.” He rises, but doesn’t move to the counter. He hesitates to say something else, lips parting and closing. "And I'm truly sorry for your loss. You have my condolences."

Shinji can only nod. This will be the last time he ever sees Keiji. It’s just as well, given the emotions and reactions he’d undergone today. Who knew how he’d react to meeting some of his other old coworkers from his other jobs. If nothing, this has reiterated why he shouldn’t get close to any of the humans, not even asking them about or taking an interest in their personal lives.

But some part of him, a wistful part that he’d thought was buried under the cynicism and hurt of Aizen’s betrayal, urges him to do one last thing. His detachment tries to block it, but it shine through, clutching at his heart.

“Did my father ever tell you what his favorite record was?” Shinji asks.

Keiji frowns slightly and shakes his head. “He might have, but I’m sorry, I can’t remember.”

“Well, to be more accurate, it’s one of his favorite records.” Shinji takes a step backwards and scans the lines of CDs until he finds the one he needs. He fishes it out of the rack and presents it to Keiji. A copy of ‘Scenery’. “He loved it from the moment he heard it. I still have his vinyl copy of it.”

Keiji is slow to take the CD. “I’ve always been more into pop music, really. Agawa Yasuko is the only jazz singer I liked.”

“It came out in 1976, the same year he started working for Yodobashi Camera. He said that while listening to it, it’d remind of his life at the time, including his work and his coworkers. He always associated it with good memories.”

Keiji nods, and his smile returns, albeit with a sadder edge to it. “I’m glad, then.” As Shinji holds his hand out, planning to take the album and put it back, Keiji raises his gaze back to him. “In that case, I’ll be buying this too.”

Shinji let out a chocked chuckle. “Whoa, hey, I wasn’t trying to make a sale –”

“I know, but I want to buy this now.”

Keiji had to be guided by his sentimentality right now, this isn’t fair. Did he feel the need to listen to this to honor him? “Hey, look, it’s really not –”

“If you recommend it, and if your father would’ve recommend it to me, then I have no doubt I will enjoy it. I’m sure my wife would too. She also likes Agawa-san’s music, and a few of the other recommendations your father made.”

Somehow, that lightens the load on his heart. He even manages a grin. “Then in that case, it’s on me.”

“What? Oh, no, please, there’s no need –”

Shinji holds up a hand to silence him. “It’s no trouble. Think of it as a gift.”

Even as they walked to the counter, Keiji fretted about the idea. Kana is ringing up the couple, but as the woman counts out the money, she eyes Shinji and Keiji as they approach.

After serving the couple, Keiji comes up the counter and Shinji digs his wallet out of his pants pocket.

“He’s buying the Agawa album, the Fuuki Ryo one is on me.”

“Really, you don’t have to do this,” Keiji insists.

Kana only shrugs as she takes Shinji’s money. “If you’re sure.” She turns to Keiji with a smile. “Good choices by the way.”

Keiji hands her the albums and his money. While waiting for Kana to count up his change, Keiji reads the poster for the upcoming music festival. “I’ll tell Kyoko and Umei about this. I have a feeling they’ll be interested.”

“It’s looking to be a good line up this year,” Kana says while handing him his change and bagging his purchases. “They have a lot more local acts. It’s always good to support them.”

“Yes, it is.” He bows to her after taking the bag from her. “Thank you very much.”

She bows in return. “Have a good day, sir.”

Keiji then bows to Shinji. “And thank you so much, Hirako-san. I’m glad I got to meet you. Please, pay my respects when you next see your father and mother.”

Shinji bows in return. “Likewise, Mimura-san. I’m sure my old man would’ve been happy to see you today.”

Both rising, Keiji smiles broadly, before turning and leaving the store. There’s a still silence after the bell above the door rings. A few heartbeats later, Kana finally speaks. “What was that about?”

“One of my dad’s old coworkers,” Shinji says, ungluing himself from his spot and going back to get his cart. From across the store, he says. “My old man and I look a lot alike, so he thought I was him.”

“Huh,” Kana huffs. “That sounds like it’s be awkward.”

“It was, but…I’m glad I got to see him.”

Kana’s brows frown slightly, but she doesn’t say anything about him ‘seeing’ rather than ‘meeting’ him. “So long as you’re feeling okay about it.”

“Yeah, I am.”

The rest of the day continues as usual until closing time. The sky has turned to amber, with the last of the sun peaking out over the horizon, by the time Shinji and Kana steps out of the store.

After locking the front door, Kana spins to him and hitches her bag over her shoulder. She jerks a thumb in the direction of Karakura’s main shopping districts. “You want to go for a drink?”

She always offers, and just like every other time, Shinji shakes his head. “Nah, gotta get home.”

Kana shrugs. “Suit yourself.” Unlike other times, concern flickers across her expression. He’d tried to hide the sombreness that’d settled into him after Keiji left, but maybe he hadn't been convincing. Maybe he's losing his tough.

Kana bows. “Thanks for your hard work today. See you tomorrow.”

Shinji does the same in return. “See you tomorrow.”

They part ways, going in opposite directions.

Autumn is in the air, crispy in the wind that brushes against him as he walks the quiet streets of Karakura Town. The streetlight pop on, beaming down over him and the those either returning home or heading for a night on the town in the shopping district. He can blend in with everyone, dressed like them and walking like them, but never be one of them.

He never wanted to be, still doesn't, but like them, he'd let that small part of him, that sentimental part of him, get the better of him.

As he comes to the quieter part of town, getting closer to the warehouse, he contemplates quitting his current job. It's only a passing thought, one that he dismisses when he considers his and the Visoreds financial situation. Kisuke had been generous over the years for someone struggling almost just as much as them, but they can't rely on him.

They needed to make their own path back to the Soul Society. Back to Aizen, to take him down once and for all. The old fire returns in Shinji's, a determination he'd used to fuel his detachment form humans.

But he's been here for so long, more than a century now. He's been alive for too long, and been around humans for too long.

Their lives are so short; one moment they're here, and the next, they're meeting a Shinigami or another agent of death. Yet, he'd come to like some of the human's he'd interacted with over the decades. Keiji is clearly one of them, and for all of the grief today had caused him, he still can't deny he'd been glad to see him. But now he'd another person in his past, one he'll never see again.

And one day Kana will have to be one of those people too. He could still visit the store for next few years and get away with it, but there will come a time where he’ll have to stop visiting. And even then, he’ll have to watch himself more in public; Karakura is a big place, but there’s still a decent chance he’d run into her on the streets in the years to come.

When that time comes, she might wonder where he went, what he’s up to, or maybe she won’t. Maybe she’ll unintentionally spare him and move away, going back further north to be closer to her family and finally confess to that one highschool friend she sometimes calls on her breaks and still lives in her hometown. Maybe she’ll use the money she’s saved over the year for singing and guitar lessons, then start that rock band she’s always dreamed of and leave Karakura to go touring.

And maybe none of that happens, and she stays here until the end.

It’ll be a shame when it happens. Despite how small the store’s original jazz section had been, he always loved the store’s collection. He hadn’t found another like it in all his time in the World of the Living.

[misscrazyfangirl321]

Well, I watched Free Guy.

[thisghosts-obsessions-again]

Okay, I finally finished Insert Rich Family Name, and just when I thought I got it all figured out... BAM! THE TWIST AND TURNS!!! PLUS MORE TWIST AND TURNS!!! By the time I shut the game down, I was too stunned to close my mouth. I never considered them, at all! But it was hinted, and I was too busy trying to smooch everyone to properly focus on the mystery 😂

I have no canon ending in terms of partners for Marine. Everyone of them are valid for me 😂 SO YES, I CANNOT WAIT TO SOLVE ANOTHER MURDER MYSTERY IN B2!!!

[planete777]

LEAF TAPES 2・⁠｡♪ LN4

( lando norris x fem!reader ft. oscar piastri )

read part 1!

IN WHICH. after months of radio silence, y/n and lando go trending for the same thing again... but this time, it's not only them.

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI!, non consensual explicit video leaked, sexual descriptions, twitter environement, mentions of getting high (as per), very self indulgent so just sit back and enjoy

NOTE. it's finally here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i've answered your requests, i hope you guys like it. my back aches from doing this so im gonna knock myself out lol. anyways, last fic for a few weeks, but i'll still be online/idle so u can still drop by my inbox if u want. okay ill let u go now bye and enjoy!!!!!

‧₊˚✩彡 taglist @laciijane @ferrarrigirl @norrizzandpia @mimi-luvzyu @multifandomwhore-003 (use askbox if you'd like to be added!)

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yn_ln

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 789,331 others

yn_ln life lately <3

>comments<

landonorris literally obsessed with you

landonorris love the last picture who's that on the left -> yn_ln what happened to being obsessed with me :((( -> landonorris sorry 😅 i mean the left. -> user 😭

user oscar cameo!!!!! OSCAR!!! CAMEO!!!

user i want both of them!!11!!1!1! i can take both of you!!!! -> user so real

user couple goals.... brb just setting up the toaster and the bath

oscarpiastri picture 2.... minutes before disaster -> landonorris disaster??? i found it pretty entertaining -> yn_ln i'm still recovering 🤭 -> user CARE TO SHARE??? I WANNA KNOW!!! -> user yn girlie............ let's gossip -> yn_ln no can do luv xx 😌

oscarpiastri anyways i look so good -> yn_ln humble yourself babe x -> landonorris what she said ^ -> user don't listen to them oscar, you do love good ❤ -> oscarpiastri trust me, i know 😏

lily_mhe loved going out with u bby <3 -> yn_ln yes!! we should do it again.... without the boys 😒 -> alexalbon uhm wow -> landonorris i need to get used to sharing the loml </3 -> oscarpiastri lol -> yn_ln 🤭

user she's so pretty "$%$£"£$(!"£$

user why are they being so cryptic 😩 -> user they wanna kill me

user 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨 -> user i've got so many questions

user lily and y/n are for the girlies xx sorry i do not make the rules -> yn_ln speak it!!! -> lily_mhe yup!!

maxfewtrell no pic creds?? -> yn_ln i can give donations? -> user LMAOAOAO -> user max being bullied pt 2838474

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landonorris

liked by yn_ln, oscarpiastri and 1,302,811 others

landonorris ♾

<comments>

yn_ln look at us trending for the second time in 2 months 😝 -> landonorris ikr such icons -> oscarpiastri quite fun tbh -> user 😭 -> user u lot realllyyyyy dgaf and i love that for you

oscarpiastri i give the best cuddles ik -> landonorris u also give the best 🧠 -> yn_ln AND WHAT ABT ME? -> landonorris oh yeah... ig -> user what the fuck is going on??? 😭 -> user in broad daylist insta comments

user im surprised he didn't post a lil snippet on ig like yn did last time -> user literally 💀 -> user he wants us to have the full experience on twt fr

carlossainz55 im begging u, plz no more -> alexalbon 🙏 -> charlesleclerc 🙏 -> georgerussell 🙏 -> pierregasly 🙏 -> yukitsunoda 🙏 -> danielricciardo 🙏 -> lewishamilton 🙏 -> user they are going THROUGH IT!! -> landonorris we'll think abt it

user surprised, but not disappointed

yn_ln no more 🐱 for u! -> landonorris NO. U CAN'T DO THIS TO ME. -> user he survives purely off of the kitty cat. i support the hustle -> oscarpiastri spare the man 🙏 -> yn_ln nah he can just watch -> oscarpiastri fine by me

user foursome?? -> user join the line

[gyu-effect]

i’ll marry you with paper rings || k.mg

“AND I’LL MARRY YOU EVEN WITH PAPER RINGS”

PAIRING || Mingyu x Female Reader

GENRES || Best Friends To Lovers AU, Fluff, Angst, Childhood Friends To Lovers AU, Slow Burn, Love Triangle (not exactly), Marriage Pact AU, Humour

SUMMARY || When the two of you were little, you and Mingyu had made a marriage pact, agreeing to marry each other if both of you remained single till thirty. Of course, it was just a joke between the two of you and you both went about in your own ways, the silly promise pretty much forgotten. You soon had a huge list of ex-boyfriends and it became a routine for Mingyu to be your human tissue after each breakup. It was a tiresome job, taking care of you, but if the said best friend in love with you didn’t do it, who would?  

Or, in which, even twenty years later, Kim Mingyu finds himself running to your every beck and call, despite telling himself he won’t fall for you anymore.  

WARNINGS || minors dni, swearing lots of swearing, alcohol consumption, wonwoo is an ass (sometimes), mingyu’s friend circle bullies him because what even is new, reader has a obsessive ex, down bad gyu (and yes this is a warning), switch!mingyu, switch!reader, soft sex its more of making love so there aren’t really any dynamics, unprotected sex (do not do this), pet names for both (love, baby, angel, princess, sir), riding, sofa sex. [let me know if i missed anything pls]

WORD COUNT || 28.3k (what happened here-)

A/N || OMG ITS FINALLY HERE. AFTER 8 MONTHS OF TURMOIL, 8 MONTHS OF HATING IT AND LOVING IT, HAVING A WRITERS BLOCK AND CRYING OVER IT ITS FINALLY HERE. This was a huuuuge journey to write this and I hope you guys enjoy it because this fic is truly my baby that I raised. Special thanks to @wonumatics for helping me with the fic (and also making a cameo) and @thepoopdokyeomtouched​ .

TAGLIST || @alyssng​ @shiningstar-byulxx​ @ashkuuuu​ @venusprada​ @macaronihaha​ @jyiiscool​ @sanniekook​ @obaebarbs​ @springdaybreaks​ @just-here-to-read-01​ @hoshipills​ @jhornytrash​ @jeonnyread​ @zgzgzh​ @neuviloved​ @hoeforcheol​ @sahazzy​ @lightprincess-world​ @watermelon-sugars-things​ @idubutily​ @meowmeowminnie​ ​@raindroponme-onme @nishloves​ @cosmic-w0lf​ @gyulfriend​ @youre-on-your-ownkid​ @neocarat17 @bias-recs​ @bmkgemz​ @fragmentof-indifference​ @peachytokki @hanicore​ @winterbeartaehyungbestboy​ @toshijimafarms​ @hyneyedfiz​ @weebotakuboy​ @angelfeverdream​ @aaniag​ @thepoopdokyeomtouched​ @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts​ @sea-moon-star​ @jjeongddol​ @k-drama-adict​ @mnstxmnbb​ [if you want to be added to my taglist please fill in this form!]

𝐎𝐍𝐄. 𝐏𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒

“Mingoo.”

The boy ignored your words as he continued with his drawing, hoping you would stop calling him and get back to your own work. The two of you had been drawing and colouring since morning so it wasn’t really surprising to him that you were already bored, but his art teacher had claimed that he wouldn’t be able to draw well since he was left-handed and he was determined to prove her wrong. 

“Mingoo. Mingoo! Look at me!”

‘Mingoo’ looked exasperatedly at you, clearly unamused by your antics. You had placed the entire colour pencil box on your head, balancing it as you tried climbing up the arms of the sofa where the two of you were seated. No sooner had you lifted a leg, your whole body shook and the pencil box came crashing down, spilling its content everywhere.

“Hey!”

You had begun to laugh but immediately stopped when you saw how upset he was. Sitting down beside him, you gave him a sad pout as you gently patted his back.

“What’s wrong, Mingoo?”

“I told you not to call me that! Just call me Mingyu!” He huffed, going back to his drawing.

You rolled your eyes but you were sure he didn’t even notice it, considering how immersed he was in his drawing. “Fine, Mingyu. Just so you know, Mingoo is much cuter! What’s bothering you?” 

Mingyu didn’t respond right away, which just confirmed your suspicions that he was very, very upset. And when he did look at you finally, his lower lip was quivering as though he was on the verge of tears.

“My- my art teacher told me I can’t draw!” The very first tear drop fell as he sniffled, trying very hard to control his tears. You looked at him confused, not sure what he was talking about since Mingyu was clearly the best artist you had seen in your life (however short it was).

“What are you talking about? Why can’t you draw? You draw amazing.”

“She said since I’m a leftie I can’t draw!”

“That’s because she is just jealous that a six year old draws better than her. I think you are the best artist I’ve ever seen.”

“You haven’t even- you haven’t even seen that many artists.” Mingyu mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he felt the sadness in his heart reduce a little. You rolled your eyes once more (he had come to notice that you seemed to really love rolling your eyes at him) before poking his cheeks once.

“Don’t need to. I just know you are the best.”

“Really?”

“Mingoo.” This time he groaned at the nickname. “I think you are the best at everything. You are the best person I’ve ever met.”

“You are just six. You couldn’t have met that many people, could you?”

“You are underestimating my social skills. But the point is, according to me, you are the bestest person I know, and that’s why you are my best friend.”

He snorted. “It sounds like you are convincing me to get married to you.”

You gasped at that, and for a second Mingyu was worried he had said something scandalous (it didn’t feel right to him that you would be troubled by this when you used the word ‘idiot’ many times, which was a pretty bad word according to his mom). 

“That’s it!” You clapped your hand in excitement and something told Mingyu you were going to suggest the most scandalous thing he had ever heard from you. “Let’s get married!”

“Like…now?”

“No, you idiot!” He winced as you slapped his arm lightly, though he wasn’t sure if it was because you hit him or because you had sworn again. Maybe it was time to tell your mom that you were always using bad words. “We can’t get married now, so if we are still single till thirty, let’s get married then!”

“W-why, though?” He asked, rubbing his arms gently. Not that he was opposed to this idea. Mingyu thought you were a great friend, you were his best friend after all, and to be honest, in his eyes you were pretty enough (he didn’t have much girl friends unfortunately). But he wasn’t sure why you had suggested this idea suddenly.

You just shrugged. “No reason. It’s just that I’ve seen many movies where the best friends get married because no one wants to marry them.”

“They sound desperate to me.”

“So will you be, if you don’t get a girlfriend by thirty.” You snickered and that got Mingyu actually wondering. Would he actually never get a girlfriend? Now that he thought about it more, he realised that maybe your plan wasn’t that bad. 

“Sure then. Let’s get married if we are still single by thirty.”

You raised your pinky finger to him and he immediately entwined it with his, both of your thumbs brushing against each other as you smiled at him, causing him to mirror your grin.

“Pinky promise that we’ll get married if we are still single when we reach thirty?”

“Promise.” He whispered.

“Oh, by the way, Mingyu?”

“Hmmm?”

“You are going to be the world’s greatest artist.” 

Mingyu rotated the pen in his hand as he absentmindedly stared outside the window. He could faintly hear the teacher teaching something about the different divisions in the animal kingdom but he had no interest in it whatsoever (after learning about the different excretory systems of insects, he had lost interest in biology all together). Through his seat, he could see the school ground and being on the lower floor didn’t help the fact he could recognise all the students who were playing out right now, making him wish he was there instead of his current location inside the sweltering, hot classroom. 

No one had warned him that middle school would be this boring but after being put in different sections, his school life seemed to have considerably dulled without you. Seventh grade wasn’t supposed to be this lifeless, was it?

He could see your little running form going in circles around the field and he automatically felt a smile tug at his lips. You looked so funny, with that annoyed expression on your face as you struggled to complete your laps. Mingyu dearly wished he had his camera with him, just to click a picture of you in this haggard form and pin it up in his bedroom wall just to tease you.

Just as he was thinking of the million different ways he could embarrass you, he heard his name being called sharply, snapping him out of his train of thoughts.

“Kim Mingyu!”

He jerked up straight to see his biology teacher glaring daggers at him, hand clutching the duster as though he was ready to throw it on Mingyu the second he answered the question wrong.

“Er,” he stood up awkwardly, eyes darting to the board to search for anything, just anything related to the question, anything that would give him enough hint as to where they were.

Suddenly his eyes landed on Boo Seungkwan who was sitting on the first bench, the extremely talkative boy Mingyu had recently befriended, and to his relief, Seungkwan mouthed him the question.

What are the four divisions of phylum arthropoda?

“Uh right, um, arthropoda is divided into arachnida, myriapoda, insectae and crustaceans.” 

The teacher looked slightly annoyed that he had got it right but nonetheless motioned Mingyu to sit down. Letting out a silent sigh, he sat down and looked out of the window, searching for you. His eyes immediately landed on your figure as you and your friends stood in circles for dodgeball, causing him to smile once again knowing you were horrible at the game.

It was funny to him how easily he always noticed you even amongst a huge sea of students. He was always the first one to catch your eyes at the morning assembly and he could always spot you in the canteen during lunch despite the huge strength of students. It was like you stood out the most amongst everyone, and yet at the same time, there wasn’t really anything that special about you.

Thank god he remembered this chapter though he had studied this almost five days ago. Mingyu had finally come to believe that he had, what you called, a ‘sexy brain’. It kind of embarrassed him how much you always threw that compliment around him whenever the two of you were studying, but for some reason he didn’t stop you. 

He just liked it a lot when you complimented him.

The bell finally rang after what felt like hours, indicating that it was the lunch break. Mingyu turned towards the window to see you disappearing into the school building one last time, before he began packing his books into his bag.

“Dude, why do you stare out of the window so much?” 

He looked up to see Seokmin leaning on his desk, his usual gentle smile on his face as he waited for him to answer. Mingyu could see the curiosity behind his eyes so he just shook his head.

“No reason. It’s just better than studying bio, to be honest.”

“Oh, yeah?” He asked, peeping out of the window too. Seungkwan came and joined the two of them, having overheard the conversation. “Are you sure it isn’t to just check out the section A girls?”

For some reason, Mingyu felt heat creep into his cheeks as he glared at the smiling boy opposite to him, who was already laughing in a good natured way.

“Then what?” Seungkwan snorted. “His best friend is in that class.”

“Oh? What’s her name? Then you must be mad that the two of you got separated last year, right?”

“It’s Y/N. Of course I’m mad.” He huffed, frowning at the very memory. His school had suddenly decided that from middle school girls and boys would be in completely different sections. He remembered whining about this to you because what was the point of studying in a co-ed school if he was separated from his best friend for silly reasons to which you had gently reminded him that you would be meeting at the canteen nonetheless. “Won’t you be angry if Joshua got put in a separate class, Seokmin?”

Seokmin laughed once more. “Of course I would. But you look like you are ready to set the school on fire for this.”

“You see,” Seungkwan spoke and Mingyu could already tell he was trying to add fuel to the fire from his expression. “They both are really close. So of course Mingyu was pissed.”

To this, Seokmin widened his eyes at Mingyu dramatically, clearly intrigued by this new piece of gossip. “Oh? Is that so?”

“It’s not what you both are thinking.” Mingyu said firmly, finally zipping his bag shut. But one look at Seungkwan and Seokmin’s mischievous smirk was enough to tell him that he had dug his own grave.

“And what are we thinking, Mingyu?”

“You think I have a crush on her.” He said, his nostrils flaring. Mingyu could feel his ears turning red from the embarrassment but he wasn’t really sure why. What was so embarrassing about explaining his relationship with you, his best friend, to his friends? “Or that we might like each other. But we don’t. Not like that.”

“Uh huh whatever you say, lover boy.” Seungkwan giggled before beckoning them to get out of the classroom. Mingyu rolled his eyes as he followed his friends out but it did nothing to stop his ears from burning up. Why was he so flustered?

The canteen was as usual crowded and the three of them lined up with their trays to get their food, when he felt his elbows hit someone else.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Mingyu began, sure that his clumsiness had gotten him into trouble once again. But luckily, he was met by your annoyed expression (he never knew he could feel so much relief upon seeing you annoyed) as you rubbed your ribs gingerly.

“Watch where you’re going, boy. You could easily have taken off my head with that elbow of yours.”

Mingyu snorted at your words, secretly glad that he was finally able to catch up with you in the canteen. “I bet I could. After all, who gets tired after running three laps?”

“You were watching me?” You hissed, pretending to lift your tray to hit him. He laughed at you and felt his smile grow as you too smiled back at him.

“He was watching you the entire time.” Seungkwan said. Mingyu glared at the two of them but that didn’t stop Seokmin either.

“Yeah, nearly got into trouble too, because of that. Thank god you knew the answer or else Park would have had your head for lunch today.”

“You weren’t listening to Park? You must have a death wish, Gyu.” 

All of a sudden Mingyu felt his stomach flip, causing him to stumble a little, his plate (now filled with food) nearly falling off his hand if it wasn’t for Seungkwan catching it with a hiss. 

“What’s wrong with you?” He hissed, carefully pulling Mingyu away from the crowd. The four of them looked at him concerned and he realised he must have looked shell shocked or something, seeing that they weren’t scolding him for his clumsy habits like usual.

To be honest, he felt shell shocked too. What was that? What was that sudden feeling that nearly threw him off his balance? When you had called him Gyu (Mingoo had evolved to Gyu because even you finally agreed; it was cringe), he had felt his stomach drop like he had been dropped from a great height. You had called him Gyu countless times before, and none of them had ever had such a dangerous effect on him before.

“Mingyu?” He heard your soft voice call him, and when you placed a gentle hand on his arm he turned to look at you. You were looking at him worriedly, and for some reason that made him feel even more light headed.

He felt the familiar heat rise up his cheeks and he immediately turned away, not wanting to look at you anymore.

“I- I think I need to go to the nurse’s room. I think I’m a bit dehydrated.” he said, deciding that he must have been feeling unwell. What else could be the reason for this sudden feeling? It was very hot after all and they did have an hour of physical education before biology. Maybe he hadn’t drunk enough water?

“Oh, okay. Let me come with you-” You began but he cut you off with a smile

“No, I’ll go alone.” 

You looked taken aback for a second, but smiled back almost immediately, giving his arm a gentle pat. “Are you sure? What if you faint on the way?”

“No, I’m not that unwell yet. It’s okay, you guys have lunch. I’ll catch up with you later.” Nodding at Seungkwan and Seokmin, he quickly ran out of the cafeteria, hoping no one was using the ice bag from the nurse’s room. 

Now that he was finally away from the suffocating heat and loud buzz of the cafeteria, he wondered why he had refused you to take him to the medical room. 

“Crap. How many days left for cram school to start?” You asked, stuffing another handful of popcorn into your mouth. Your best friend looked at you in annoyance for asking the most useless question in between the movie, but nonetheless picked up his phone to check the date.

“Two days. It starts this Saturday.” 

“Fuck, we’ve really got to make the most out of it Mingyu.”

“I know. But you repeating it after every few minutes isn’t really making it better or making the day go slower. If anything, I can already feel the anxiety seeping in.”

He heard you snort and mumble something about having it easy because of his sexy brain, and he felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips. The two of you were finally in high school, but there was nothing to rejoice about it by the number of extra classes you would have to attend. So here you were, idling away the two week summer vacation you had got, enjoying the ‘last glories of our youth’ as you had called it.

Even though Mingyu knew the next four years were going to be a huge study overload (he could actually feel the anxiety seeping in now), he had never felt so relaxed in his entire life like he had in these two weeks.

The two of you had gone to amusement parks, done movie marathons and had even gone to the beach for a few days with both of your families. Even though he knew spending time with you was supposed to be memorable, he couldn’t help thinking that this time it had felt extra special.

He still couldn’t forget that warm feeling that had enveloped his chest when you had won one of the amusement park games and hugged him out of excitement, or the time when the two of you kept pushing each other at the sea until a huge wave crashed into the two of you, causing you to hold onto Mingyu as you both let out shrieks of laughter.

All of a sudden he realised that he had been getting this feeling of warmth whenever he was around you quite often off lately. Not to mention that one time his stomach dropped when you winked at him back at your fourteenth birthday. 

Well, in his defence you looked gorgeous. Like in a way he hadn’t expected you to. Of course he knew you were pretty. Kim Mingyu wasn’t blind to all those love letters and chocolate boxes you got every Valentine's day. But he really hadn’t expected you to look so beautiful in that dress. Nor had he expected his heart to stutter like that when you showed him the dress, twirling in it. 

Maybe it was because of the heat inside your bedroom due to all the closed windows and door or maybe it was because he was remembering those confusing emotions, but as Mingyu turned to look at you, he felt his heart stutter once more.

Your hands had a dusty orange on them from all those cheetos you had been munching on from earlier this evening, and your mouth was in an even worse condition. And yet, he felt warmth flood his chest when he realised he didn’t really care for your appearance. It didn’t really matter to him whether you had cheetos crumbs smeared on your lips or whether you were dancing in a beautiful evening gown.

Because you were, well you. You were Mingyu’s best friend of nine years and with someone he had shared every single memory with, be it a happy, sad or an embarrassing one. Of course he wouldn’t care about your appearance (hell, he had even seen you when you woke up after bawling your eyes out for the entire night) so why was this point coming to his mind now?

You were pretty and that was a fact. There was nothing to debate about it and yet here he was, not paying attention to the movie but wondering if all the guys who had chased you were aware of this side of you. Would they still ask you out? Would they still send you roses and chocolates during that time of the year?

He snorted at the very thought of how fake their affection towards you now felt. Mingyu was pretty sure they would run in the opposite direction if they saw you in this condition right now; wearing your old Melody pyjamas while eating chips in the most messy way ever. 

But he would never do that (assuming there was a hypothetical situation where he had to date you, of course). Because this was what made you you and he loved you for that. Everything about you was perfect in his eyes, including your flaws and mistakes.

Which once again, made his heart to stutter erratically causing him to suck in a harsh breath.

You turned to him when you heard him suck in a breath, your smiling expression changing to that of concern.

“Gyu? You okay?”

“Yeah I think…I think I’ve got a clogged artery.” Maybe it was high time he talked to a cardiologist. 

“Dammit. Told you to cut down on those snacks.”

“Me? Or you?” He laughed, pointing at the heap of empty snack packets around you. You pushed all the packets to his side and he gave you his usual ‘defeated smile’, causing you to laugh once again.

Damn, you were really pretty when you laughed.

“Oh but clogged arteries? Please Einstein, I bet you were thinking about a girl, weren’t you?”

“What the hell? Where did that come from?” He spluttered, taken aback by this sudden confrontation. You punched his arm lightly before wiggling your eyebrows at him (Mingyu made a mental point to ask Seungkwan to stop hanging out with you since you were clearly picking up his habits).

“My dude, you clearly have a crush on someone. Why else would your heart be jumping like that?”

“I don’t think I ever mentioned it was jumping?”

“Oh please. I’ve known you for so many years. I know what’s going on inside your head.”

Mingyu rolled his eyes. “I don’t have a crush on anyone, okay?”

“Then why is your heart jumping like that?”

“I told you it's not jumping-”

“The only explanation is that you have a crush on someone.” You winked, causing him to groan. Letting out a laugh you patted his shoulder gently, letting him know you were joking. “I’m just kidding, Gyu. If you ever had a crush on someone, you would have told me right?”

“Yeah…” Mingyu nodded. He would have told you right away, right? But what if…what if his crush was you? Would he be able to tell you then?

“Speaking of which, one of my friends thinks you are cute! Do you want to go on a date with her?”

“Er, I don’t think I’m good enough-”

“Excuse me?” You glared daggers at him, causing him to halt mid sentence. “You are not good enough? What are you even talking about? Anyone who knows you well knows that you are a literal gem! You are smart, cute, handsome and well-mannered! What else does a girl need?”

“Er.” He tried thinking of something to say, but his mind was stuck on something else you had said. You had called him smart, cute and handsome? Sure, he heard you say it a million times before but it did nothing to stop the heat creeping up his cheeks.

“Give it a try, please? Suji is a nice girl too, and I’m sure you both would click. You know I wouldn’t have even told you about this if I knew you wouldn’t like her, would I?” You asked, your lower lip jutting out in a pout. You looked so adorable right now, pouting at him slightly as you spoke in a soft voice, as though trying to convince a child to do something for you.

As though in a trance, Mingyu found himself nodding to your words. “Okay. But why does she like me? I mean, I barely know her.”

“I don’t know honestly. She just said she had a crush on you because you looked like her ideal type.”

“So…she loves me because I look like her ideal type?”

You narrowed your eyes at him and Mingyu wondered what had he done wrong. When he still didn’t reply, you rolled your eyes and took the remote controller, switching off the movie and edging closer to him.

“No, you silly. She doesn’t love you. I said, she has a crush on you. There’s a difference.”

His head spun at your words as he looked at you annoyed this time. Why were you complicating matters when it was clear he didn’t know a thing about this?

“Look crush is like a short infatuation. It doesn’t have much to do with personality, and is mostly based on looks. Love on the other hand, develops slowly, over a period of time. Like you could give a million reasons why you might have a crush on someone but love is, love is just…there’s no reason. You just love them despite everything and anything. Like…their imperfections don’t matter at all.”

“Like how I love you?” He asked, and you just laughed, slipping your hands into his. He grimaced as you oily fingers brushed against his, but somehow it felt comforting when you entwined your hand in his. 

“Of course not. We are just friends; everything is platonic between us. What I mean is loving a stranger, like a person you were not meant to be with in the first place. I mean like, not- not Seokmin, me or Seungkwan. Not your family or friends. Someone you accidentally happened to meet. Am I making sense?”

Mingyu nodded, understanding you very clearly. It made sense in a way. Loving you couldn’t possibly be the same as loving his girlfriend, could it? Loving you was like his second nature, like it was bound to happen and he couldn’t think of a time he didn’t love you and your friendship. Loving you was just so easy and just so natural; that had to be platonic right?

You switched back on the television, and for a few minutes, silence engulfed the two of you before you broke it again.

“You want to know something, Gyu?”

“What?”

“I would have definitely loved you if we weren’t best friends.” 

“Hi!” 

Mingyu turned towards the excited squeak and found a girl of his age standing beside him, waving a bit too excitedly. He smiled at her politely before beckoning to the empty seat beside him for her to sit down.

He had finally agreed to go on a date with Suji, deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy a little bit before he became completely busy with his studies. He had tried searching for good places to go on a date that might suit both his and Suji’s taste, but finding none, he finally had resorted to asking Seokmin for advice. 

Currently the two of them were at the Food Plaza, a street completely dedicated to small food shops. According to Seokmin, he and his girlfriend enjoyed trying new food from there so it might be a great idea to take Suji there instead of a restaurant which would serve only a particular cuisine. 

“So, um, Suji.” Mingyu began. immediately wishing a hole would swallow him up because of how awkwardly he had started. “What do you eat? I mean, like, what would you like to eat? Like- Like cuisine wise?” 

“Uh, about that-”

“We could have Italian if you like! Or- or, uh, my friend actually recommended me this taco place but I’ve just got to search for it a bit-”

“I’m actually allergic to a lot of food.” She cut him off, smiling at Mingyu apologetically. As he stared at her, he could feel the embarrassment sinking in even more.

Oh. Oh. “Why didn’t you tell me before? I would have picked a different date spot.” He said, trying not to sound too dejected at how his first date was going.

“I didn’t want to offend you. I mean, it was the first time we were talking and you asked if this was fine with me and I felt it would be rude if I said no.” She said sheepishly, clearly equally embarrassed at how things were turning out.

Why did she have to overthink so much? Why did she have to be so polite?

“Then…do you want to go somewhere else-”

“I see a Subway here, behind you. Do you mind if we eat there instead?” She asked with a smile.

He forced a smile and got up, and she followed his lead. Oh great, this Subway is only a takeaway. “Of course not. Let’s have a Subway then.”

Mingyu had always had great expectations for his first date. He had always thought it would be at a nice comfortable place, enjoying the food as he got to know his date and vice versa. Never had he thought that he would be eating a Subway for his first date, sitting on one of the plastic chairs kept outside the shop, getting boiled under the hot sun.

The rest of the afternoon passed away in idle chatter. Suji was apparently a straight A student, but she had no other hobbies because she spent every single moment studying (he could understand her position, really, but it was still boring beyond words).They ended up talking about school and grades more than Mingyu had in his entire life and by the time they had finished lunch, his head was already throbbing.

Out of politeness he asked if she wanted to go to the amusement park but she told him she hated the amusement park, to which Mingyu had nothing to say.

Finally finding that there was nothing else to do (and they had nothing in common except for their grades), the two of them decided to call it a day. They bid each other goodbye with Suji thanking him for the food, and Mingyu promised he would catch up with her more (he didn’t intend to keep this one though).

The sun was already setting in by the time he began his walk back home and the atmosphere had gotten relatively cooler, but it did nothing to stop the pricking heat he was feeling all over his body. His head still throbbed from earlier despite finishing nearly two bottles by himself, so he decided to take some rest at the neighbourhood park.

He sat down on one of the wooden benches and finally let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. 

What was wrong with him? Mingyu could feel his head spinning as he felt oddly hot, his clothes sticking to him uncomfortably. Talking to Suji made him feel so uncomfortable for some reason, it felt like he had been talking to a wall the entire time. It was awkward, forced and just so annoying even though he couldn’t tell why.

And he felt unhappy. Unexplainably unhappy. Like he had been forced to choose a career he hated or like he had been told to stop art altogether. 

Finally, he took out his phone and dialled a very familiar number, hoping you weren't busy at this moment.

You picked up at the first ring itself and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. What was he supposed to say? That he didn’t enjoy the date? He knew you wouldn’t feel offended by that and you would agree with him but then why couldn't he say anything to you? 

“Gyu?” You asked softly, your voice laced in worry. 

And that was enough to break him. He let out a sob as he screwed his eyes shut, feeling a heavy emotion wash over him.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, though he himself was unsure what he was sorry about. “I’m so sorry. I just-”

“Where are you?” You cut him off gently, and he paused for a second to catch his breath. 

“I’m- I’m at the park near our apartment.”

“I’ll be there in five minutes, okay? Just hang in there.”

True to your words, you were there within five minutes, and he found you crouching down in front of him. Gently placing your hand on his knees, you asked again, “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

He was still shaking from the aftermath of his sudden breakdown, the nauseous feeling threatening to rise if he opened his mouth to speak. So instead, he just opted to look at you with his teary eyes, hoping you would understand.

Mingyu had always been the softer one among the two of you. He was always the first one to end up with tears when he got hurt or offended, and at the same time he was the first one to forgive anyone for their mistakes. So it wasn’t really surprising that you had learnt to realise his emotions even if he didn’t, and you always knew the right word to soothe him.

“Hey,” You said, still talking softly to him. You took his hands in yours, gently rubbing circles on them with your thumb. “It’s okay. It’s completely fine that you didn’t like her, you know that right? Sometimes…things don’t work out the way we think they would. But why are you crying? Did she do something to you? Don’t tell me she forced you to kiss her or-”

“No, no, it’s not anything like that.” He inhaled sharply, finally finding his voice back. He didn’t want to ruin your friendship with Suji just because he was confused about what he was feeling and why he didn’t like her. “It’s just that…I don’t know. She felt so boring, bland and dry. Not in the offensive way! Like- like Minghao from my chess class talks about only grades and school too! But I never feel so dull…so lifeless with him.

“It’s okay.” You said with a reassuring smile that had warmth flooding back to his chest, the stupid prickling heat that had been irritating his skin now gone. Pressing a soft kiss onto his knuckles, you said, “We don’t have to justify why we don’t like or like someone ever, okay? It’s completely fine.” 

And all of a sudden Mingyu realised what he had been feeling, why he had felt so unhappy and what Suji had missing.

“I felt uncomfortable.” He said, just realising how comfortable he felt beside you. There was a feeling you radiated, which was something no one could ever replace. Whenever he was with you he felt like he was at home, like no matter what would happen he could always go back to you. 

Which was a given since you were his best friend. And yet, when he was with Suji all he could think of was you. Of how you made him feel. Of how you made him feel always.

“It’s okay, Gyu. It can happen. You know that I’ll always be there for you, right?” You smiled at him.

Mingyu smiled back at you, finally feeling like the throbbing in his head dull down a bit. As if on a cue, he remembered something like this had happened to the two of you long ago, another incident of you calming him down which had resulted in the two of you making a silly promise.

Back then it was a promise made at the heat of the moment, with little to almost no thought given to it since it was meant to be a light joke between the two of you. But when he extended his pinky to you and you immediately linked it with yours, Mingyu could feel your seriousness.

“I promise I’ll be there for you too.” 

He pressed your doorbell multiple times furiously, patience running thin with every passing second. What was taking you so long? Were you that badly injured that you couldn’t even open the door-

The door finally swung open and Mingyu nearly flew in, engulfing you into a bone crushing hug.

“Ow! Mingyu- It hurts-” You clawed at his back but he still didn’t let go, pouring all his anger that had built up in the past few hours against you in this hug (he had always been told he had weird ways to show his anger). It was only when he felt you yank his hair at the back of his head lightly did he let you go.

“What the hell-” He began as he pulled away, still clutching at your shoulders. He took a deep breath in when he saw your split lip and bruised cheek, feeling his heart twist in the most horrendous way ever. “Did you think you were doing?”

Mingyu could feel the huge wave of guilt coursing through his veins right now. He shouldn’t be blaming you. This wasn’t even your fault in the first place. Why was he getting mad at you?

Because after all, this was actually all his fault. The whole reason you had even got into the fight in the first place was because of him.

And yet, you looked unfazed as you rolled your eyes at him, shrugging his hand off your shoulders. You walked into your bedroom and after making sure the front door was locked (your parents had gone out for a week and it was Mingyu’s responsibility to check if you were keeping up with the safety rules set by them), he followed you into your room.

“Why did you do that?” He asked once again, as you sat down on your bed with a huff. He followed suit and you turned to glare at him.

“What do you mean why did I do that? Of course I had to punch that asshole-” 

“Then are you going to get into a fight with anyone who says they don’t like me?”

“Of course I will! And it wasn’t even a matter of simple liking. He called you a whore just because you didn’t want to go out with his sister. Who the fuck does that? I needed to get some decency punched into his head!” You snapped, causing him to flinch at your anger.

Why were you so angry? It was true that even he would have been offended if someone had insulted you, but now you had gotten yourself hurt and that hurt him a lot more. 

“Did the school send you home early as a punishment?” He asked as he got up to search for the first aid box, trying to change the subject.

“Not as a punishment. The principal said he was letting me go since he was the one who started it. But they said that if I got into another fight, it would go down in my report.”

Mingyu hissed at the very thought of your report getting tainted due to him. Squeezing the antiseptic he had taken out from your first aid box onto a cotton bud, he was about to apply it on your lips but you caught his wrist. He looked up at you in surprise only to see you looking at him worriedly. 

“Are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad. I’m just- Look, you got hurt. Because of me.” He said, his strained voice giving away the guilt he had been hiding all this time. He was mad at you; but only because you had got hurt so badly because of him.

“Nope. Not because of you. I got hurt because of that bastard-”

“Okay that’s enough swearing for a day. But why did you do that?”

“Done what?” You asked in annoyance, as though it was a stupid question he was asking. “Gotten into a fight? Gyu…wouldn’t you have done that for me too?”

“I- I would- I wouldn’t- Yeah. I would.” He whispered, feeling bile rise up his throat at the very thought of someone insulting you. Was that even possible? What would they even insult about you? What was even there to insult about you? You were so perfect in every way that Mingyu could not even think of any flaw that someone might find in you. “I would burn down the world for you.” He said, still whispering.

When you heard this, the creases that had formed in your eyebrows due to your anger disappeared, as you burst into laughter. He blinked at you confused, not sure why you were laughing. Nonetheless, he felt his own mood lighten a bit upon hearing your beautiful laugh, his heart skipping a beat when you smiled at him softly.

“Oh Gyu.” You said, grabbing his hand in yours. Right now you were looking so, so pretty that all Mingyu could do was stare at you and nod dumbly, all words dried from his throat. “You would burn the world down for me? Nah, you are too sweet for that.”

At this he snorted, jerking his hand away from you and proceeding to dab at your lips. “You underestimate my love for you.”

“I don’t.” You said, wincing a bit that caused him to freeze, scared that he was hurting you more. Seeing your wounds from up close made his heart squeeze painfully, and it oddly made him wish he had taken those punches instead of you. “I know you love me as much as I love you.”

“Then don’t get hurt.” He whispered. You blinked at him and he sighed frustratedly, pulling you into another hug. This one was gentler than the previous one and yet Mingyu held as close as he had done before, as though he was scared to let you go. “Then please don’t get hurt. It hurts me. It hurts me to see you like this.” 

He felt you gently pat his shoulder blades before wrapping your arms around his torso, pulling him even more closer. Your scent, which he had grown so familiar with, comforted him as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

Hugs were not something uncommon between the two of you; you had hugged each other a million times before and nothing had changed between the two of you.

And yet right now, as Mingyu held your body close to his, he was hyper aware of how your skin felt against his, of how comfortably your body fit in his grip and of how his heart raced as you clutched his biceps. His heart hurt, his head hurt and yet, it felt so good to have you in his arms. 

It really felt like Mingyu was the one who got into a fight; everything hurt so badly. He thought of the raging emotion he had first felt when he had heard that his classmate had hurt you. He remembered the panic he felt when he entered the nurse room and couldn’t find you; he was worried that you were in a worse condition than he had thought you were in and had to be taken to the hospital. And he remembered the relief flooding back in him when the nurse told you had simply been asked to go back home and there was nothing serious about your bruises. It had nearly torn him apart as he waited for the day to get over, dying to go home and make sure that you were actually okay.

He thought of all the emotions he had experienced with you; happiness, anger, sadness, fear, surprise and even disgust. Mingyu had shared a huge journey with millions of memories with you. He really couldn’t even imagine what his life would have been like if it weren’t for you. It was impossible to even breathe without you.

Suddenly he remembered what Seokmin had told him once, that maybe, maybe he was in love with you.

It was back when they were on a school school field trip and students had been allowed some free time around the resort so Mingyu, Seokmin and Seungkwan decided to play on the monkey bars. They were just either sitting on it or swinging aimlessly (sixteen year olds were a bit too tall for a playground meant for five year olds) with idle chatter when you and your group came and sat down on the swing.

Normally Mingyu wouldn’t have really cared and the swings were too far from the monkey bar to involve himself in your talk but he glanced at you and felt himself smile. You were laughing and talking to your friend, the sunlight catching your hair and almost giving you an angelic glow.

It was already warm but Mingyu still felt warmth spreading in his chest, his cheeks heating up within seconds.

Back then, Seokmin had joked, only joked, that Mingyu was in love with you but now, he realised that it may be true.

That maybe, he was in love with you.

And not in the platonic way that you had explained to him. Not in the way where you both exchanged ‘i love yous’ regularly because you loved your friendship.

He loved you in the way Orpheus loved Eurydice, the way Romeo loved Juliet and the way Louisa Clark loved William Traynor. 

Because Mingyu had said it for himself; loving you was so easy and just so natural that he couldn’t even think of something else, he couldn’t even see himself falling in love with someone else. Loving you was like a river flowing, something that would have happened no matter what. Something that could not be stopped, because then it would be like a dam that had been forced to be built to stop Mingyu’s emotions from flowing.

“Just promise me you won’t get hurt.” He whispered and felt you slightly nod your head. You were gently rubbing circles on his back, with no idea what effect it had on him. “Promise me please. Because I love you so much that I can’t bear to see you get hurt.”

“I promise.” You mumbled almost immediately, unaware of the double meaning his words held. 

But that’s okay. Mingyu thought. You didn’t have to know about his feelings. He wasn’t going to burden you or your friendship with his one sided love. As long as you were happy, he was okay with it.

After all, some promises were meant to be broken.

Like this one. 

“What did you even want to show us?” Seungkwan grumbled, squinting through the sunlight looking heavily annoyed.

Mingyu didn’t blame him though. They had been sitting at the cafe for the past half an hour doing nothing, still waiting for whatever ‘surprise’ you had planned for them. The hot weather made everything even worse; Seokmin was already on his fourth ice cream, Seungkwan was sipping his sixth iced americano and Mingyu himself had drunk two large glasses of milkshake and now he wanted to use the washroom so badly but could only resort to shaking his legs.

“If I tell you it won’t be a surprise anymore, will it?” You said, checking your phone for the millionth time. 

Mingyu realised that this was the first time in weeks he was hanging out with you. College was starting in a month and everyone had decided to take part in activities that might help them boost their respective subject knowledge. Since both of you had decided to major in different subjects, he hadn’t been able to see you much due to the conflicting schedules of your work. 

He felt warmth bloom in his chest as he watched you smile at your screen, the corners of his lips tugging when he realised how ridiculously pretty you looked. Mingyu had come to terms with the fact that love was indeed blind; in his eyes you would always be the most perfect human being and even though you would never see him in a non-romantic way, he would always love you.

All of a sudden your eyes lit up, and you jumped up from your chair. “He’s here!” You yelled as you dashed towards the entrance of the cafe.

Confusion settled between the three of them as both Seungkwan and Seokmin’s eyes fell on Mingyu.

“He? What’s she talking about?” Seungkwan asked urgently, but all Mingyu could do was furrow his eyebrows.

He? Who were you talking about? Was it a new friend? It couldn’t be your-

“Guys, meet my boyfriend!” 

Mingyu felt blood rush up his ears as he stared at you. A boy, of their age, beamed at the three of them along with you, both of you clutching each other’s hands. The two of you were met by complete silence, which was only interrupted when Seokmin’s spoon clattered onto the ground.

“Oh, hi!” He said, laughing awkwardly to ease the sudden tension that had built up. You pulled your ‘boyfriend’ down onto a chair beside you and it was only when the said man smiled at Mingyu did the truth finally sink in.

You had a boyfriend. A boyfriend.

Suddenly the air felt a thousand times hotter than it already was, compressing against him like it was trying to squeeze all the breath out of him. He felt his stomach drop as you smiled at the man beside you, your eyes holding so much love for him.

A love that could never ever be his. 

Mingyu felt like he was going to be sick. And his two friends were doing literally nothing to stop the nausea rising up his throat. Seungkwan was glaring very obviously at the newcomer while Seokmin smiled at him awkwardly. 

You looked at the three of them expectantly, your smile dropping a little when none of them showed the reaction you were clearly hoping for.

Mingyu felt his heart crack a little at your slightly crestfallen face and that’s when Mingyu realised how stupid he was acting.

How could he be this selfish? Just because he was in love with you didn’t mean that you couldn’t date or fall for someone else. Just because he loved you didn’t mean that you were obliged to return the same feelings. Hell, you didn’t even know that he was in love with you in the first place (which, Seungkwan and Seokmin considered a bit dense of you, because of the fact that it was apparently very obvious that Mingyu was and always had been in love with you; in fact that’s how they had come to know about this even without him telling them).

“Hi! Nice to meet you. I’m Mingyu. And this is Seungkwan and this is Seokmin.” He spoke, forcing a smile onto his face for your sake. You immediately beamed back at him and for a second, Mingyu almost forgot that your boyfriend was there.

“Hi Mingyu! I’m Jisung. Y/N’s talked so much about you! At first I thought your name was actually Gyu.” He laughed and Mingyu smiled back politely. 

He engaged himself in a casual conversation with Jisung and you, kicking his two friends lightly under the table so that they could help him a bit too. He didn't want you to feel bad. After all, you had looked really excited when you had first told them about the surprise and he wanted you to be happy.

"I'm hurt, though." Mingyu said with a pout, so that you would understand that he was only joking (he wasn't). "You never told me that the reason you kept putting your club activities over meeting up with me was because you had a boyfriend. You could have introduced us much sooner."

You smiled at him apologetically, a small shy one that caused his heart to stutter a little. 

“Hey, come on.” Jisung laughed, placing his hand over yours and giving it a squeeze. “Of course she would prioritise me, her boyfriend, over you, her best friend.”

“Excuse me?” Seungkwan asked as Mingyu felt his stomach twist in the most revolting way. He felt something catch his throat, his cheeks flaming at the comment more than the unbearable heat of the weather. 

Mingyu wasn’t stupid; he could feel the sudden tension in the air at Jisung’s comment and your slightly shocked face so he tried laughing it off. He really, really tried smiling at his words, however awkward the smile was, but for some reason he just couldn’t. All he could do was tighten his grip on the glass as he gritted his teeth to stop himself from lashing out.

Never had he felt so much anger towards someone. No matter how much he tried to digest that statement, he just couldn’t stop the bitterness from rising to his mouth. 

Because it was true.

Mingyu knew it was true, and so did everyone else present at the table.

He would always just be a best friend for you, while someone else played the role of your boyfriend. It was a part he could never play, no matter how much he loved you.

But Jisung telling him that definitely didn’t make anything better. It didn’t make his feelings for you go away or make him realise how stupid he was to fall in love with his best friend. If anything, it made him feel worse. It was like Jisung had on purpose crossed all boundaries, just to rile him up.

“H-Hey guys?” Seokmin interrupted, as though worried of what Mingyu might end up saying in the heat of the moment. “Didn’t the three of us promise to play on Joshua’s new xbox at two? If we want to reach on time then we need to leave now.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Seungkwan said, standing up and grabbing Mingyu’s elbow to pull him up. For a second Mingyu looked at his two best friends hurrying to leave in a confusion and then it finally hit him what they were actually trying to do.

“Ah, yeah. Sorry I forgot to mention this Y/N. But we need to leave now.” He said, forcing a smile onto his face just for you. You still looked taken aback from your boyfriend’s comment and just smiled back hastily at him.

"Uh, okay. I'm sure we all can hang out together later too!" You called after them, and they  hastily turned to you, bidding you a goodbye.

The three of them walked in complete silence for a while, as though the situation had not yet sunk in.

A boyfriend. His biggest worry was now coming true.

Mingyu could still taste the bile in his mouth and no matter how much he swallowed, the lump in his throat was still choking him.

"Hey man…" Seokmin said, stopping abruptly and causing the other two to do the same. He looked at Mingyu sadly, before patting him gently on the shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

He could feel tears sting his eyes as he balled his fists to stop them from falling. But no matter how much he tried, he just couldn't stop the feeling of his heart being ripped apart.

Why couldn't he be the one holding your hand right now? Why couldn't he be the one whom you looked at with so much love? Why couldn't he be the one who showered you with love and affection everyday?

The sadness clutched at his heart tightly as the first tear drop fell. Seungkwan clutched his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as though he could understand Mingyu’s feelings.

It's okay. He said to himself. You knew this would happen.

He hadn't felt this sad in years, not even when his friend Kwon Soonyoung made his entire friend group think he was the mafia when he wasn't, and definitely not when he had to force himself to keep a straight face when he heard guys talk about how pretty and awesome you were, or when you would open every single Valentine's Day letter and read them out to him, all the while giggling.

Mingyu felt Seokmin take his other hand and the comfort it gave him made him realise once again how grateful he was to the two of them.

He took in a shuddering breath to calm himself down before speaking. "Thanks a lot. For back there."

Seokmin shook his head, once again patting his back. "Don't mention it. I know this won't cheer you up and it probably sounds useless, but you both are going to two different colleges next month, right? Maybe, I’m saying maybe, you'll get over her. Maybe- maybe the lesser you see her, the easier it will be for you. Plus there's going to be so many other girls too, right?"

Mingyu just nodded, not having the heart to tell him how dull other girls looked to him beside you.

"But I just don't understand how Y/N still does not know that you are in love with her. I mean, even if she can't see it, surely her friends would have noticed?"

Mingyu shrugged, the feeling of dejection finally setting in as he watched the setting sun. But he always knew that one day or another, you would get a boyfriend that wasn't him and he would have to accept that. 

After all, the promise that the two of you had made was just a stupid joke, right? 

"Hey Mingyu. If you want, Soonyoung and I could accidently spill poison into that shit excuse of a boyfriend's coffee and Seungcheol or Jeonghan could cover it up."

He let out a laugh at this, feeling his mood lift up a bit. A bit.

"No thank you. I don't want any of you in jail."

"Damn, okay. What does she even see in that asshole anyways?"

Mingyu shrugged. "I guess everything that I lack."

"Hey, hey, hey." Seokmin shook his head at the two of them. "We need to cheer up! And you know what to do after a breakup?"

"Seokmin. To break up you need to be in a relationship in the first place. Mingyu hasn't even confessed to Y/N yet-"

"Do you," Seokmin flashed his eyes dangerously at Seungkwan. "Know what you need to do? That's right gentlemen. We need to stop by Joshua's house to play with his xbox."

"Did Joshua really buy a new xbox? Didn't he buy one last year?" Mingyu asked, already feeling slightly distracted.

"Yes and yes. You can thank me later on for being best friends with the richest kid from LA."

"He's friends with all of us."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Seungkwan." 

𝐓𝐖𝐎. 𝐏𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

The rain poured down heavily as he ran across the wet road, ignoring the way his wet clothes clung on to his skin, making him feel cold and clammy. His sneakers were soggy too, making it almost difficult to run, but he didn’t want to think of the consequences if he didn’t get to you quickly. 

Mingyu came to a halt in front of a series of bars, taking out his phone hurriedly to check the address you had sent him. 

Correction: he whipped out his phone to check the incoherent words you sent him with the line "oick ne up pld".

By now understanding your drunk texts had become a second nature to him; he could decipher it as easily as your normal ones. In fact, this current situation was such a common occurrence that he knew that it wouldn’t really hurt you if he reached a minute or two late but he could never get rid of that horrible feeling in his heart that something, something might happen to you if he didn’t find you.

Finally stepping into the bar whose name you had sent, Mingyu scanned the crowd for your familiar face. Being a Friday, the place was really crowded but it didn’t take him long to find you seated on one of the stools near the counter, emptying your glass in a flash before resting your forehead against the counter.

The tightening in his chest returned as he took in your expression, your drunken state causing his heart to shatter into millions of pieces. 

He hated seeing you like this. He hated seeing you sad, he hated seeing you cry and he hated seeing you so heartbroken. It made him angry at the universe for making you cry, it made him angry at you ‘boyfriend’ for making you cry, and it made angry at himself.

It made him angry that he couldn’t protect you, or save you from feeling these emotions. It made him so angry that there were days he would just hate himself for not being able to make you smile. What was the point of being your best friend if he couldn’t protect you from those feelings? What was the point of loving you if you still got hurt over love?

Taking a deep breath to calm himself down, Mingyu walked over to your spot and sat down on the stool beside you. Then gently patting your back, he called your name softly. “Y/N? Can you hear me?” 

You immediately shot up, looking around a little dazed until your eyes landed on him. Squinting at him a little, you asked in a slurred voice, “Gyu?”

“Yeah. It’s me. Let’s go home, okay?” He asked, still speaking softly as he gently slung your arm over his shoulder. You let him pull you up from your chair as he tightened his grip on your waist, and you buried your face in his neck.

Mingyu felt your nose tickle his neck as you wrapped both of your arms around his shoulders tightly, but he ignored it and instead focused on literally dragging you out of the crowded place. Once the two of you had made it out safely, he quickly hailed for a taxi so that you didn’t get wet (and because it was physically impossible for him to drag you all the way back home). After making sure you were seated comfortably in the backseat, he slipped in beside you.

“Y/N?” He asked, poking your knees as you rested your head on his shoulder. The strong smell of alcohol on you pricked his nose in irritation but he let you be, allowing you to use his shirt as a tissue. “Did you…break up again?” 

You nodded slowly, sniffling once before looking up at him in teary eyes. Mingyu felt his heart break once again and it took him all his willpower to not wrap his arms around you and engulf you into a hug before you even spoke.

“He said- he said something was off. That he didn’t feel that I was really interested in him.” You mumbled into his shoulder. “I don’t get it though. I really liked him. What did he mean by ‘I wasn't interested in him’?”

“Maybe- maybe it's because you both have busy schedules?” Mingyu reasoned, not sure why he was trying for excuses for your boyfriend, now an ex. “Maybe he was under stress so he wasn’t able to figure things out in his end?”

“I don’t know.” You mumbled. “I-I thought it would work this time.”

It would work this time.

Mingyu had lost track of the number of times he had heard you spill those words, both in your drunken and sober state. It was a word he heard repeatedly over the years since college and he had thought that maybe after you got a job, he would stop having to hear those words.

But he still ended up hearing them after your every single break up, still sympathising with you like he was just your best friend and didn’t love you in any romantic way. 

“Maybe it’s time you, uh, try something different?” Another common response. “Like maybe stop being in a relationship for a while, heal yourself completely and then try?”

“I’ve tried, Gyu. I’ve tried it so many times. But for some reason, I feel like something is missing in my life if I’m not in a relationship. You understand, right?”

He did not understand. Mingyu had never been in a relationship before thanks to his one sided love for you but even apart from that, he couldn’t understand how you could jump from one person to another in such a short span of time even though each of it ended in the same sad, messy way.

The taxi finally came to a halt, indicating that they had reached their destination. Mingyu quickly paid the fare and gently pulled you out of the vehicle, him still supporting your maximum weight. 

Experience had taught him that dragging you all the way up to the fourth floor of the apartment not only was a bit strenuous to him but also hazardous to you (the dark corridors were not helping his clumsy nature in any way). So he slung your arms around his neck and pulled you onto his back, grabbing your knees as he made his way to the apartment elevator. 

Once he stepped out of the elevator and reached his front door, he slowly let go of your one knee and reached for his pant pocket to get his house key-

Shit. 

His hand came out empty and he felt panic grab him. Frantically, he reached for his other pocket but all he could feel was his wallet. In his hurry to get to you, he had forgotten to take his key with him. 

How could he be so stupid? He had always been an organised person and always checked, double checked everything before leaving the house. How could he forget something so important, especially when you needed his help?

Shit, shit, shit. If we stay here any longer, Y/N’s going to catch a cold. Should I just go to a hotel-

The front door swung open and if Mingyu had been asked at that instant which god he believed in, Mingyu would have said Jeon Wonwoo without a second's hesitation.  

“Oh god Wonwoo-” He began, as his older roommate just rolled his eyes, opening the door wider to let the two of you in. Carefully, Wonwoo helped a now unconscious you slide down from his back onto the couch. “How did you know-”

“How did I know you forgot your key?” Wonwoo asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Mingyu nodded, feeling Wonwoo’s disapproval through his stare. “Well, I went to your room to return your book but guess who had sneaked off so late at night?”

Mingyu averted his eyes down, feeling Wonwoo’s gaze pierce through him.

“It’s not that I have a problem with you hanging out so late at night. I’ve never even complained when Y/N crashes in your room. But why do you-” He inhaled sharply, trying to calm himself down. Mingyu felt guilt wash over him as Wonwoo continued. “But why do you run to her every single time? Do you have no self respect?”

He winced at his friend’s words even though he knew they were true. He had himself asked this question many times. Why didn’t he stop going to you everytime? Why did he force himself to shoulder your pain every single time? Why couldn’t he, for once, even hint that he loved you?

“You keep telling me it's the last time. Every single damn time.”

“I’m- I’m sorry. I promise this will be the last time-”

“You always say that!” He snapped. “You say that it's going to be the last time, and then you go back, and then get hurt as she rambles about her boyfriend and you still stick to her like she’s not hurting you; like you aren’t breaking inside, like-”

“Then what do you want me to do? Ignore her messages? Leave her alone in this state?”

“No!” Wonwoo hissed. “But if you don’t set boundaries, you are going to be her doormat forever! You’ll be a pushover-”

“Fine, I get it!” Mingyu snapped, mad at Wonwoo for not understanding him and mad at himself for being exactly what Wonwoo had just called him. Your doormat. “I get it, okay? I get what you mean. But I can’t just- I can’t- Fine, I’ll- I’ll get over-” 

Both the men flinched as you murmured in your sleep, causing them to finally pause. Wonwoo sighed as he shook his head, slowly walking back to his room.

“It’s up to you, Gyu. Either chase her or forget your feelings for her. But what you are doing now- it’s just going to hurt you more. I’ll be in my room if Y/N needs anything, okay?”

With that, he shut the door of his room, leaving Mingyu all alone with a snoring you. 

“Gyu.” You said, swallowing your food abruptly to speak. It just resulted in the huge lump to get stuck in your throat, causing you to cough as you choked on it. Immediately Mingyu shot up from his chair and thumped your back, slowing it down to gentle pats as gradually stopped coughing. “Thanks.” You muttered, giving him a small smile as tears slid down your cheeks. 

“Be careful.” He said worriedly, pouring you another glass of juice. You took a sip of it and set it down, before giving him a bigger smile. Mingyu felt his heart clench painfully as you beamed at him gratefully; as though he was your saviour. 

“Thank you for the breakfast.” He just nodded, swallowing thickly as he tried to distract himself from your smile; anything that wouldn’t remind him of the way the sunlight from behind gave you a soft glow, the way the corner of your lips quirked up when you smiled, the way- “And- and thank you for yesterday. Thank you for always, actually.” You continued. 

“Don’t thank me.” He said, sitting down back on his seat. “That’s what friends do anyways, right?”

Opposite to him, he heard someone snort. Both of you turned your attention to Wonwoo, who was busy reading the newspaper (Mingyu had never seen his roommate with a newspaper; in fact the newspapers were only for him). 

“Ah,” you said, “thank you to you too, Wonwoo. Gyu told me that if it hadn’t been for your timely intervention, we would have frozen to death outside the house.” 

Wonwoo narrowed his eyes at you, as though trying to find the sarcasm in your statement. But you were genuinely smiling at him and Mingyu kicked Wonwoo lightly under the table. You might be stamping on Mingyu’s heart (unknowingly of course) but he knew you were always thankful to Wonwoo.

“It’s okay.” He muttered, going back to the newspaper. “I was just helping my friend.”

“Yeah, thanks for that too.” You turned back to him and scrunched your nose. “Gyu can be a little oblivious to his surroundings sometimes, right? He needs someone to take care of him sometimes.”

“Absolutely right.” Wonwoo stated coolly, picking up an egg tart that Mingyu had made specifically for you. He eyed Mingyu, before continuing to speak. “He definitely doesn't keep his own feelings and health in mind and is always dashing to help others, unaware about himself or what state he is in.” 

Mingyu laughed dryly at his roommate’s statement, before shooting him a glare. Wonwoo then continued again. “But Mingyu is really responsible. And always has everything under control.” (By now, Mingyu could feel sarcasm even in Wonwoo’s breath) “In fact most of the time, it’s him taking care of me. Besides, I think we can all agree that you need to be taken care of more than him.”

At this, Mingyu shot up from his chair once again, pulling you up by your elbow. “You are done right? I’ve already packed some lunch for you. Come on, I’ll drive you back home.”

You looked at him confused. “But- But I just started-”

“It’s okay, you can have them in the car!” He said, quickly picking up some tarts. You rose from your chair hesitantly, but nonetheless waved Wonwoo a small bye as you followed Mingyu out of the house. 

Just before closing the main door, Mingyu glared one last time at his roommate, but the older one just smiled at him, mouthing the words, ‘enjoy your “alone” time with Y/N.’ He air quoted the word alone, causing Mingyu to roll his eyes.

As he walked towards his car with you behind him, he made a mental note to talk to Wonwoo about not betraying roommates. 

“I’m sorry.” You said, as you finally settled in the car seat. Mingyu looked at you confusedly, not sure where this was coming from. You had never apologised to him before because there wasn’t any need to. He would have gone to pick you up if you had ever texted him, break up or not, drunk or sober. It wasn’t like the two of you were strangers either, where one had to apologise for the inconvenience caused. 

Wait, Mingyu thought. Don’t tell me she knows about-

“I keep asking you to come so late at night and pick me up. And then I crash into your house just like that. I can understand why Wonwoo doesn’t like me.” You said, a note of sadness lingering in your voice.

“Oh.” He let out a small breath of relief, feeling a tension release from his chest at your words. Over the years, as Mingyu saw how horribly you dealt with breakups, he had learnt to control his feelings even more whenever he was around you and not let a slip of word either. He didn’t want you to end up like that because of him, even the thought of it brought a stabbing pain to his chest. “Oh, don’t be sorry. What are friends for, huh? I’ve known you all my life. If I can’t help you get you home safely, I think your mother will stop thinking of me as her son.” He glanced at your direction as you gave him a small smile. 

But Mingyu could tell there was still some weight on your chest so he added, “And don’t worry about Wonwoo. He does like you. It’s just that- It's just that he is worried that one of us might get hurt, you know.” That one of us being me. “He’s a great guy, trust me. He’s nice and caring in his quiet ways. And he’s someone I trust with my life. Apart from you of course. And Seokmin and Seungkwan. And Joshua too.”

Mingyu saw you smile more brightly from the corner of his eyes as you reached forward and placed your hand over his, which was on the steering. Had it been someone else, Mingyu would have flinched and probably would have accidentally rammed the car into a wall (he was speaking this from experience; needless to say the female coworker didn’t even glance at his direction ever again despite the ‘crush’ she previously had on him).

But yours were so warm and comforting, he felt himself relaxing against your touch almost immediately, before realising you were probably watching him. Quickly he straightened up, and inhaled deeply to control his heart that was giving small squeezes every now and then.

“So, uh,” He began, venturing into the area he knew might be a bit painful for you. “What did he say this time?”

You seemed to understand who he was referring to by the way you withdrew your hands from his and crossed them in front of your chest. You frowned slightly though Mingyu wasn’t sure if it was because of the sunlight falling on your face or the content of yesterday night’s conversation.

“I don’t know, Gyu. I don’t know. He said he felt I wasn’t committed enough. What did he mean by that? I always readjusted my schedule to meet him, ditched my friends whenever he said he needed me and god knows what else. What more does he need?” 

“Did you mention that to him?”

“Of course I did! And he just felt that even though my actions were doing those, it was obvious my heart was searching for something else! Like what is he? A shaman?”

“Er, didn’t the last guy, what’s his name? Haejoon? Didn’t he say the same thing?” Mingyu asked.

“Who’s side are you on?” 

“Yours, of course.” 

“Good to know. But you are right, you know. They always say the same thing. Not only Haejoon and Jongmin. Starting from Jisung, they always say the same thing.”

“And what are you exactly searching for?” Mingyu asked as he carefully parked the car in front of your apartment. He really wanted to know what was the thing that you were looking for, the thing that caused your break ups and the thing that might finally give you solace. He wondered if he had what you were searching, though he doubted you would even bother looking for it in him. 

You shrugged as you got out of the door, pulling the bag of food along with you as you got out. “I don’t know. I don’t know myself.” You said, though in Mingyu’s opinion you didn’t look that affected by it. Mingyu had always loved how cool and chill you always were about life but right now, he was really dying to know what was the key point that would win your heart forever.

“Here, give that to me. It’s heavy. I’ll carry it.” He said, reaching forward to take the bag from your hand but you just moved the handle away from him, a playful glint in your eyes.

“What? Just because you’ve been living in the gym off lately doesn’t mean I can’t lift this much.” You said, walking up the stairs.

Mingyu frowned and paused for a second, before chasing after you. “How did you know that? I don’t think I’ve told you-”

“Those arms don’t lie, Gyu.” You said with a wink, stopping in front of your door as you rummaged through your purse for the house key. “And besides, Seokmin keeps me updated with his pictures-”

“What? Seokmin has been sending you gym pictures?” Mingyu gasped, feeling his head spin. You just laughed at him teasingly as you walked into the house, a sound which made Mingyu’s stomach somersault but right now his head was in a whirl. “Y/N! Answer me!”

“And what will you do if I say yes?” You said, amused at his reaction as you placed the bag of food carefully on the dining table before turning to you. Your one hand was on your hip, the other on the edge of the table and you were smiling at him brightly, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

You looked so, so pretty that for a second Mingyu had forgotten to answer your question. It was only when you raised your eyebrows at him did he realise he was staring, and quickly looked down so that you wouldn’t see the heat creeping up his cheeks. 

“Uh, it doesn’t really matter to me.” And it shouldn’t have mattered. Mingyu knew that Seokmin and you were just good friends, and that Seokmin was really faithful to his girlfriend but still, he couldn’t help feeling disgruntled about it. Why couldn’t it be his gym pictures you were asking for?

“Uh huh.” He heard you say, but it sounded closer than before. Mingyu looked up and almost jumped back, because you were so close to him now, that he could almost count the number of lashes on your eyes. He inhaled your scent; you smelled like his soap. But he never knew his soap smelt this good, never knew its scent could be this intoxicating, slowing down his reactions as you beamed at him mischievously. How the hell did you manage to smell better than him in his soap?

“You don’t need to pout so much, Gyu.” You said, cupping his cheeks as you scrunched your nose at him fondly. Despite being six feet, Mingyu felt like a small puppy in your arms, waiting for its master to pet it. It was taking all his resolve not to wrap his arms around your waist and kiss you, or even melt into your touch this easily. When did he become so whipped for you?

“You know,” You began a bit absent mindedly this time as you dropped your arms and took a step back from him. “You look very cute when you pout. But I don’t want you to be sad on my behalf, Gyu.”

Mingyu blinked at you. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, me being sad isn’t your fault Mingyu. My breakups, getting wasted or even jumping into relationships so hastily isn’t your fault. Don’t blame yourself.”

“What are you talking about, Y/N?”

You turned your back towards him and walked back to the dining table, carefully taking out the lunch boxes he had packed for you. “I see how you look after each break up. You look so hurt, more hurt than even I feel and somehow that hurts me more. I hate seeing you so hurt. It breaks me-” You inhaled sharply, trying to control the trembling in your voice. “I hate calling you each and every time, I hate leaning on you so much, I hate dumping all my sorrow over you. I hate it, hate it, hate it. I fucking hate it so much.”

“But- But” He began, still not sure what you were trying to say. His mind was in a whirl and it was hard getting out the thoughts in his head. “But I already told you many times that I don’t mind picking you up. I don’t mind being beside you whenever you go through these! If I don’t do these, then who will?” 

“And I hate seeing you sad.” You finally turned to face him and Mingyu felt his heart drop. You were…crying? “If you stop being sad, then I don’t mind you coming over to me. Otherwise…I feel selfish. I always feel like an awful person and I hate feeling like this so much. I’ve just wanted you to be happy, you know that Gyu.

He snorted. “Well, you are being selfish. You can’t stop me from doing this much for you. Do all our years of friendship mean nothing to you?” What was wrong with you? Why were you saying such things to him? Each word that escaped your mouth felt like a slash on his heart, like all the things he had done for you as a friend, as a person he loved and trusted, had meant nothing to you. 

“Gyu-”

“No, don’t start again! Don’t okay, don’t! You don’t get to decide what I feel or what I want to do for you! You are being selfish if you think it’s okay for me to stand back and watch you fall apart.”

“Mingyu, please listen to me-”

“If you care about my feelings then stop breaking up just like that!” He yelled. The silence that followed was almost deafening and as Mingyu watched your tears fall more, he realised that he too was crying. His whole body was shaking as he clenched his fists, feeling an anger he had never felt before coursing through his veins. 

Why did he do that? Why did he say that? Why was he feeling so hurt over your statement? Yes, you were being selfish by telling him to stand back and watch you cry every time, whether he loved you romantically or not. 

But it hurt him more that you were so ready to give him up was like a huge blow to him. And because of what, it made you sad?

He swallowed thickly, breathing in slowly as he tried to calm down his racing heart. “If- if you want me to be happy, focus on yourself first. After all, it was you who started it.”

“And one kilogram of cheddar cheese.” Wonwoo said, and Mingyu reached out to take the last slab of cheese kept in the open freezer, but instead he found himself holding someone else’s hand, who was holding the cheese he was about to grab.

He immediately jerked his arm back and turned to profusely beg for forgiveness, but froze when his eyes met the other person, who too was staring back at him with a look of shock. 

Your eyes averted down to your shoes as you took a step back almost immediately, clutching the part of your wrist he had just held. And he would have kept staring at you, trying to think of something to say after last week’s fight if it wasn’t for the sudden crash sound from beside you that snapped both of you out of your daze.

Mingyu turned to his right to see a curly haired girl staring back at the trio, all the items that were once in her hand on the floor now. 

“Ni!” You gasped, running towards the girl to help her pick up the things. Mingyu too moved forward to help but Wonwoo was the fastest among the three, picking up the groceries and handing them to her.

As she took it slowly from his hands, Mingyu all of a sudden realised that she wasn’t staring at all the three of them, she was staring at his roommate. At Wonwoo.

His eyes darted to you and you too wore an expression of shock and surprise, as your head moved between Ni and Wonwoo, as though finally understanding the situation.

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo asked, the question snapping her out of her trance as she looked away, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Then turning back to him she nodded a little, before asking, “Are you okay?”

Wonwoo blinked at her for a second before she realised what she had just said, flushing once more as she furiously corrected herself again. “I-I mean, thanks a lot. For helping me, I mean.”

Mingyu looked at you once again and smirked, as you too mirrored back his expression. He very well could see where this situation was going and for once he hoped that Wonwoo wouldn’t screw it up.

“No problem.” Wonwoo said, before looking back at Mingyu. “So, uh, Mingyu should we-”

“Oh hey, are you sure you don’t want any help?” Mingyu interjected, signalling at Ni with his eyes, hoping she would get the hint. “Like um, do you want any help getting stuff from the top shelf because-”

because you are short? Was that rude? Was he overdoing it? But like he was blessed to have you as his best friend, you came to his rescue immediately. “Because you are short! And Wonwoo is tall! There’s nothing wrong in asking a sexy, handsome, tall man to help, right?”

Mingyu had always thought it was your charming personality and unearthly beauty that got you the long list of lovers but now he made a mental note to add smooth talker to it. Because while he was sure that if he had said that statement Wonwoo would have said no, he could literally see the wheels in his roommate’s brain turning as he mulled over your words.

“Sure.” He said, turning back to give Ni a smile. “Where’s your grocery list? I could help you.” Saying that he turned to look at you, tilting his head as he said something to you through his eyes. You pursed your lips a bit but looked at Ni and gave her a smile.

The two of them then disappeared down the aisle, leaving Mingyu alone with you, the coolness from the freezer all of a sudden disappearing as he felt the awkwardness settle in.

It had been a week since the argument the two of you had but none of you had made an approach to talk it out. And now seemed to be the perfect time to talk about it but once again the two of you just stared at the floor, waiting for each other to break the ice.

“Uh, so about that day…” You began, as both of you looked up at the same time. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I mean, yeah, even I’m sorry so-”

“Well you shouldn’t be.” You interrupted him. Then taking in a deep breath, you stepped closer to him, looking down again. You looked so nervous and confused, as though you weren’t sure of how to apologise to him.  “I mean, you shouldn’t be sorry because you were right. You were trying to help me, but, you know- I’m trying to sort out my feelings still, trying to find out what’s wrong and uh,-”

“Hey.” He said softly, putting his hands on your shoulder causing you to look up at him. You looked so sorry that Mingyu almost forgave you then and there. But he knew the two of you needed to talk it out so instead he said, “How about we talk about this after a few more days? I think we both are affected by this so I think we both should sort out our feelings and thoughts and then talk about it. You’re right, I do get hurt everytime I see and I know that hurts you too. But you very well know I can’t leave you like that, can I? If our roles were reversed you would do the same for me.”

You opened your mouth to say something but then closed it, slowly nodding as you let out a sigh and leaned in to rest your head on his shoulder. He felt his muscles tense as he inhaled in your scent, but relaxed almost immediately when you wrapped your arms around his waist. He did the same too, pulling you in closer as you stood like that for a few seconds before breaking the silence again with a chuckle.

“When did you become so mature, Mingoo?” You asked, causing him to groan. “Back when we were kids it was always me taking care of you. When did you grow up so much?”

“Hmmm, maybe if you took care yourself a little bit more-”

“Okay, okay!” You laughed, pulling away from him to look at him. You smiled at him softly, the familiar heat sparking in his heart as you nodded at him. “You are right. I promise I’ll get back to you in a few more days. Wait for me till then?”

I’m always waiting for you.

“You guys are terrible.” You groaned, tearing the wrapper of the triangular kimbap. You glared at five men sitting opposite to you individually, before taking a bite of food in your hand. “This is not what I had asked you all for!”

“Blame that on Mingyu.” Seungkwan grumbled, shooting a glare in his direction as he picked up a fish cake bar and unwrapped it, dipping it into his ramyeon cup. 

Mingyu could feel the disappointed look of his friends on him, so he cleared his throat and tried to divert the blame away from him. “Come on guys. You all love eating at this convenience store. We’ve eaten so many times here during our college days! Doesn’t it bring back memories again? Just the five of us, meeting up after a month and enjoying a meal here? Can't you guys feel the nostalgia?” 

He felt you slap his shoulder lightly, and he grabbed it with an exaggeration. hoping that would make you soft for him and you would stop scolding him so badly. 

“Did I ask you to set up a reunion meeting? I asked you to pick a restaurant according to the guys’ convenience because I wanted to treat them!” You pursed your lips and glared at him once more, and the situation would have scared Mingyu out of his wits if he couldn’t hear Seokmin’s giggling from the corner. 

“Sheesh.” He muttered, rubbing his shoulder. He was used to being blamed by the group for the simplest reasons such as breathing in the wrong way but he really hadn’t meant to mess up your well intentioned plans. “It’s fine, just eat up. Think that we cannot afford to eat at those pricey restaurants right now and eat up. Besides, I know you guys love this. Weren’t you craving cup ramyeon even yesterday, Wonwoo?” 

Wonwoo froze in the middle of slurping his noodles, before putting it down and saying, “I said I was craving your noodles.” 

Mingyu let out a gasp, not expecting to be betrayed even by his own roommate, (it was evident Wonwoo hadn’t listened to his lecture about not betraying roommates) but it was swallowed by your laughter. He turned to look at you just as you stopped, chuckling at him as though still enjoying the joke. 

The dim lights of the neon signboard hit you at an odd angle, but it was enough to make you look like an angel. You let out a giggle as he stared back at you, the smile growing on his face involuntarily. He could see the tiredness from the entire day’s work on your face, but you kept smiling back at him with such tenderness and love that Mingyu felt like his heart was going to explode. 

Someone cleared their throat at the table, snapping both of you out of your daze and you immediately knitted your eyebrows back into a frown. “Oh gosh, Kim Mingyu! We could have been eating barbeque but now here we are stuck-” You said, shoving another fish cake packet to his face, “-eating this amazing, nostalgia inducing food!”

“Oh god, it brings back so many memories.” Seokmin sobbed, rubbing the corner of his (dry) eyes. Mingyu rolled his eyes at his friends’ dramatics, but he couldn’t help smiling at them. “It reminds me of the time Mingyu and I kissed.”

“Wha-” His voice was caught off as Seungkwan spat out the water he had been drinking, spluttering and gasping for breathe as Wonwoo thumped his back hurriedly. And even though Mingyu too was worried about him, the only thing he could do was let out a cry because unfortunately for him, he had been sitting opposite to the Seungkwan, causing all the spat out water to fall on his face.

“Seungkwan!” He cried as the table erupted in another round of laughter. 

“Oh my god Mingyu, are you crying? Don’t cry baby!” Joshua asked, mischief laced in his voice. Of all the seats I could have sat on, why did I pick the one next to Joshua? Joshua grabbed a few napkins from the table and began dabbing it on his face, cleaning his ‘tears’. “Don’t cry, Gyu. We’ve got your back always.” Then dropping his voice a little, he added, “You know we’ve been joking from the very beginning right?”

Mingyu took the tissues from his hand as he nodded, a small laugh escaping him as he rubbed the rest of his face clean. “You guys are mental.”

Suddenly he felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around his torso, causing him to inhale sharply as you leaned against his body, glaring at the other guys. “Yeah, why are you pestering my poor baby?” 

Oh god. Oh god. He tried to control his face from heating up, balling his fists so that he didn’t lose his senses due to your scent. Seungkwan must have noticed his sudden change in demeanour because he snorted and said, “That’s one big baby you have.”

“Besides,” Joshua said, pulling him away from your embrace and into his instead. “You were pestering him earlier too.”  

“Getting pestered is just Mingyu’s love language.” You countered back. “But of course, it should be only by us. Right Gyu?”

“I don’t want to be pestered by any of you though?” He said, to which Joshua pressed his finger to his lips, shushing him. “If we don’t pester someone as nice as you, someone who can always laugh it off because he knows we are just joking and we actually love him, who else will we pester?”

“Wow,” Mingyu said sarcastically. “You guys are such angels. I love my friends who pester me!” 

“I don’t pester you though?” Wonwoo said, causing ‘ey’s and ‘fucking liar’s to rise from around the table. He just laughed at them before raising his can of beer, saying, “To our friendship!”

“To our friendship.” Everyone echoed back, raising their drinks too, before taking a large sip of it. 

Mingyu could feel the alcohol slowly settling in his system, a pleasant buzz tingling his entire self. The rest of the night passed by with such speed that one minute he was still eating and joking with his friends and in the next minute he found himself walking beside you, taking you back home.

He had insisted on walking you back home despite your refusal, because apart from knowing that it was dangerous for you to walk alone at night especially in this slightly intoxicated state, he also knew that his own mother would kill him if she came to know that he had let you go just like that. 

Presently the two of you were walking through an uphill alley, you giggling at some old memory while he complained about the unfairness of it to you. 

Suddenly you grabbed his arm, causing his heart to skip a beat as you jerked him towards you, looking at him with shining eyes. 

“Gyu,” you whispered, even though there was no reason to do so, “Want to see something special?” 

“Special?” He asked, his voice a little higher than he had expected it to be. Your face was so close to his that he could almost feel your breath against his neck, gulping slowly to control his breathing. “We- we have work tomorrow. Don’t you think it’s a bit too late-”

“Oh, don’t be such a spoilsport.” You scolded him lightly, before smiling at him softly. He prayed to god that the warm, giddy sensation he was feeling in his body was due to the alcohol and not due to how you were smiling at him, eyes shining in a dangerous way as though you were about to show him a secret that was meant only for him.

“Okay.” He said, straightening up a bit so as to put some distance between the two of you. “But only if we come back within half an hour-”

“Oh, you can just crash in my house.” You said, all of a sudden giving him a light shove backwards. He looked at you in surprise as you suddenly took off, screaming at the top of your voice, “Race you to the top!”

“Why, you-” He began, before starting to run too, laughing at your dirty method of cheating. You knew you wouldn't be able to beat him, not when he had such long legs and had a much better stamina than you. But there was no way Mingyu was going to let you win, not when you had decided to win like this.

He caught up with you within a few seconds, throwing his arms around you as he pulled you into a bone crushing hug. You shrieked with laughter as the two of you stumbled, doing your best to break from his grip but all those days in the gym had truly paid off as all you could do was claw at his arms helplessly. 

“Okay! Okay!” You yelled, gasping for breath because of how much you were laughing. “You win! You win, okay?” But he still didn’t let go, burying his face into your shoulder as he giggled continuously. He could feel that he was losing his grip on you because of his sides aching due to his laughter, but you felt so warm in his arms, your clothes really soft and smelling like you that it made him pull you into him even more. 

In the back of his mind Mingyu wondered if the two of you were causing too much ruckus so late in the night, but all thoughts were pushed back when you suddenly turned in his arms to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

Time slowed down as he felt his stomach drop as you beamed at him gently, a soft smile on your beautiful lips as you tilted your head a little, looking at him with nothing but pure adoration. He felt his arms instinctively tighten around your waist, his breath hitching slightly as you leaned into him, noses almost brushing. 

“This is it.” You whispered, your breath ghosting his lips. His mind was swirling as his heart raced, sure you could feel it with how close you were pressed to him. You smelt so, so good; it was enough to cloud all of his judgement. His knees had turned completely jelly at the way you were gazing at him, mouth slightly apart and it took him all his willpower to not drop you as you leaned your entire weight on him. 

“Wh- what is this?” He asked, finally finding his voice as he forced his mind to come back to the present. He had to focus. He couldn’t let himself sweep away because of this.

The corners of your lips curled up a little, an action Mingyu had always found endearing. “This is the special thing I wanted to show you.”

He blinked, trying to process your words. Tearing his eyes away from your face, he looked around slightly bewildered, still not understanding what you meant. 

You laughed lightly, and he could feel your chest rapidly rising and falling against his. “No, you idiot. Don’t look around. Just look at me. Us. We are the special thing I wanted to show you.” 

He inhaled sharply at your words, finally the meaning settling in.

You were right. What more could be special to him than the friendship between both of you? The two of you loved each other so much, admitted you loved him platonically, but still, it was such a beautiful thing. The two of your actions and mannerism had  been shaped by each other’s influences. He carried a part of you just like you carried a part of him.

“You're right.” He said, exhaling slowly as your eyes fluttered due to his breath. “You are so special to me, Y/N. I- I love you so much Y/N. I love you so much.” His chest contracted painfully when he said those words but he knew if he didn’t say them, he would combust even if you didn’t get the second meaning of these innocent words.

You sighed contentedly in his arms, before wrinkling your eyebrows in a frown. Then taking in a deep breath you said, “Mingyu, I- I’m terribly sorry for yelling at you that day.”

“What?” He asked, a little taken aback as he hadn’t expected you to bring that conversation back up for a while, and certainly not now. You just dipped your head low, until your forehead was resting on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I messed up big time. And I made you feel that I was using you.”

Something caught his throat at your apology, so he just chose to keep quiet and listen to you, opting to rub small comforting circles on your back instead.

“It’s just that I felt really bad seeing you look so sad on my behalf. Because of me. And I know I asked you back then to pick me up, not to feel hurt but you were right. Because like you said, even if it happened to you I would feel upset. Whether or not you ask me to stay out of it.” You finally looked up at him, lips slightly apart as your eyes ran all over his face. Even though you weren’t crying, he could see that your eyes had turned glossy. “And you were right. I know we already talked about this but still it was half assed so I feel like you deserve this apology. I want you to know that I’m truly sorry and I don’t want you to get hurt. The best way to make sure you aren’t getting hurt is to by making sure I just don’t jump into relationships. I was never a thousand percent sure of any of my relationships so far and yet I went into them and they all resulted in the same way. So I’m going to wait for the one that I’m a thousand percent sure about and only then go for it. How does that sound?” 

“Good.” He said, giving you a small smile. “I just want you to be happy and take care of yourself, okay?”

You smiled back at him and nodded, before pushing yourself away from his grip. His disappointment at the loss of warmth soon disappeared when you grabbed his hand and pulled him forward, until you were leading him into an empty park.

“This,” You said pointing at the sky. “Is what I actually wanted to show you by the way.”

“You…wanted to show me the moon? Something we could have seen from your rooftop and reduced the risk of freezing to death while walking through some lonely street?”

“Hahaha. Very funny. I’m pointing at the stars.”

He blinked at you, pretending to look offended. “I thought you said we were the special thing you wanted to show me?”

“Yeah, that too. But since you have a very kind and considerate best friend, I even wanted to show you the stars. And as a sorry for the bitch I was.” If you had said this in an alternate universe where Mingyu and you were dating, he might have dropped some flirty comment about you being the brightest star in his eyes or something but since he wasn’t, he decided to keep it to himself instead.

He followed your suit and craned his neck to see the night sky, not finding a single speck of light in the ink black sheet overhead.

“There’s no stars, though?” He asked amusedly, watching you as you swore and kept turning your head, as though changing the angle of observation might help you find one. “I did tell you years ago that light pollution has made it impossible, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, I know.” You muttered, still searching for them (Mingyu found it endearing on how persistent you were of showing him the stars and would have fallen for you more if he wasn’t already completely enamoured by you). “I just- I just thought since this was uphill and was a little empty it might be a good spot.”

That statement caught him off surprise. “You searched up for this place?”

Finally you gave up with a sigh, walking towards him in a dejected manner. “Yeah, yeah I did. I knew you would walk me home so I spent the entire night yesterday on Google Earth trying to find a good spot.” Your shoulder slumped a little as you sat down on a bench, Mingyu following suit. “I guess I should have come here physically and checked it before getting you here. Or looked around more on foot instead.”

“What the hell, I literally just told you it’s dangerous for you to roam around in the night on your own.” He said but it didn’t remove the pout from your face.

“I just wanted to show you how truly sorry I am. That I really, really want you to be happy.”

He reached over and grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze. It was surprisingly warm despite how much the temperature had dropped, and he hoped that you too could find comfort in his warmth. 

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I already forgave you when you said you would finally prioritise yourself. Besides, I can already see Orion up there.”

“What?” You asked, your head snapping up. “Where?”

Mingyu laughed at your eagerness, before you let out a ‘Hey!’ and punched him lightly. “Oh please. You are forgetting that I’m an artist. The best artist you've seen, right?” He wondered for a second if you still remembered that incident from twenty years ago, when you had claimed that he was the best artist you had ever seen. 

Your lips stretched into a smile at the memory, causing his heart to jump that it was not only him that remembered such trivial things of your friendship. 

“Yeah,” You muttered, tightening your grip on his hand as you gently rested your head on his shoulder. “You are the best artist I’ve ever known. Will always be.”

As Mingyu rested his head against yours and closed his eyes, he realised just how special the word us was. 

“Good morning, handsome.”

Mingyu swivelled on his chair at this weird greeting, only to find Seokmin leaning against the glass door frame, arms crossed over his chest with a rather flirty smirk on his face. He just groaned and rolled his eyes while Joshua just let out a small laugh. 

“What?” Seokmin asked, looking offended as his smile suddenly dropped, as though his girlfriend had just called him ugly. 

“Go back to work, Seokmin. Don’t you and Seungkwan have any sound effects to add to the last game?” Mingyu asked.

Seokmin just stuck his tongue out, before walking over to Joshua, who was still laughing at his antiques. “I wasn’t even talking to you. I was greeting Shua.” He said, and Mingyu rolled his eyes once again. 

“What brings you here?” Joshua asked, picking up one of the hundred cups of coffee he and Mingyu had kept in between them and handing it over to Seokmin. But Seokmin just shook his head, opting to take Mingyu’s sandwich instead. He raised his eyebrows a little at Mingyu, asking if he could eat it and the latter nodded. Seokmin took a bite of it, chewing slowly before sitting down on an empty chair.

“Sorry, can't really drink coffee much nowadays. And I already had one in the morning. Apparently it dries out your vocal folds and mucus.” He said. “Makes working for the entire day hard but what else can I do if we are so broke that us sound engineers itself need to record and compose apart from our usual role?” 

“Don’t let Wonwoo hear you about us being broke.” Mingyu chuckled, before remembering about the other person in the sounds department. “Oh my god, how is Seungkwan surviving then?”

“He says if he drinks it in excess it will nullify the effect.”

“Oh shit, Seungkwan’s going to retire even before we hit mid life crisis.” Joshua joked. 

Seokmin too smiled before pointing at all the coffee cups on their desks. “Well looking at all those cups, I can say the same about the graphics department to be honest.”

“Oh this?” Mingyu asked, pointing at the cups. “This isn’t for us, it's for watering the plants.”

“Heh.” Seokmin said, before standing up once he had done with the sandwich. “Then you guys will need more of it because we just got a whole new batch of houseplants.” He placed a file on their desk, clearly another new project, before saying, “God bless Y/N. She’s the best salesperson we’ve ever had.”

“Y/N gave this?” Mingyu asked in amusement, picking up the file to go through it. “She trusts us too much, considering the fact I already told her we still haven’t finished the last client’s game yet.” 

“It’s fine.” Joshua said, leaning back against his chair. “He’s a nice author. He literally told me, ‘It took me a lot of time to come with this huge storyline so I know it will take you guys even more time’.” 

“I wish Wonwoo would hire Y/N though.” Seokmin groaned. “He’s a great programmer and all but I just don’t get why he hates her so much. He was pretty fine with her at the beginning.” 

Mingyu felt his cheeks burn as Joshua said, “Isn’t it obvious? He can’t stand seeing Y/N use Mingyu even if she’s clueless. Personally, sometimes when Mingyu’s giving her puppy eyes, I want to scream, cry, throw up and shake her until she starts seeing his feelings.”

“Looks like Wonwoo isn’t the only blind one among us.”

Mingyu snorted at this, before adding, “I don’t give her puppy eyes by the way.”

“You really don’t know yourself then. You always looked like a dog to me.” Seokmin commented. 

“Wow. Wow. I’m going to take that as a compliment.” 

“Think whatever you want. Just because all those girls line up to see your biceps at the gym doesn’t mean I think you are handsome.”

“Are you salty that you had one less fan girl than Mingyu, Seokmin?” Joshua asked sweetly to which Seokmin just laughed. “No way, I have a girlfriend and they all know it. Me and Seungkwan are committed to our beautiful girlfriends. It’s always the two of you flexing your biceps a little too hard in front of them. At least Wonwoo is chad about it and not like you bitchless losers.”

“Oh no, are you forgetting Wonwoo’s new date? That cute girl he met at the grocery store? Also, it's not our fault you guys managed to find love at high school and college. Adult life wasn’t the fun and thrills they had promised us.” Mingyu complained. “Besides, I’m in a life long one sided love with my other best friend, not my fault.”

“Yeah, and I had a girlfriend too.” Joshua said, to which Mingyu and Seokmin deadpanned at him. 

“You mean you had a hook up with Wonwoo’s ex-secretary.”

“And she just quit the next day. Out of the blue. And no one would have known if Wonwoo didn’t grill us on if we did something to her. Hell he even made you write a thousand times that you will not have office sex. You are lucky it's just the five of us here.”

Joshua raised his arms defensively. “Hey, I told you I don’t know why she quit. I never forced her to do anything. I would never. But the question should be why does Wonwoo need a secretary when he’s actually at the same level as us? Just because opening a gaming company was his initial idea doesn’t mean that he is the CEO now. We all contributed.”

“Are we all rebelling against Wonwoo today?” Mingyu asked with a giggle. 

Seokmin pointed at the door. “Should I go get Seungkwan?” 

“Instead of the secretary, Wonwoo could have hired Y/N. Wasn’t she the topper of her class? I aspire to achieve her dedication.” Joshua said.

“In fact, she dropped this file personally this morning. Asked me to imitate her and wish you ‘handsome men’ a good morning once it got clearance from Wonwoo.” 

Mingyu’s mouth fell open in disgust. “You tried imitating her? God, that was so bad I thought you were flirting with us. You captured her horribly.”

Joshua pointed at Mingyu with wide eyes as he laughed. “See? This is why Wonwoo won't hire Y/N. She could straight up rob us and Mingyu will jump to her defence even then.” 

He rolled his eyes at them and finally looked down at the file in his hands, trying to skim through the content. Suddenly he felt bile rise up his throat and constrict his air passage as he read more and more, stomach dropping at the rather familiar storyline. 

“Oh my god, it’s so frustrating!” Seokmin cried, frustratingly wiping away his nonexistent tears. “Why won’t Y/N look at you?”

“Don’t you guys start too.” Mingyu mumbled, turning back to his desk. He had finally finished reading the storyline of the new game and the frustration of the scene suddenly hit as the air around him changed to seriousness, all the humour from before gone.

“What’s wrong?” He heard Joshua ask but he just shook his head, not wanting to talk about it anymore. 

“I’m sorry guys. We need to get back to work.” He said, before switching his computer back on. Through the corner of his eyes he saw Joshua pick up the file and lean in to read, Seokmin peering at it over his shoulders.

“Oh…” Seokmin said after some time. “Mingyu, I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t” He let out a humourless laugh. “Don’t. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“No, you are not.” Joshua began angrily. “If Y/N would just-” 

“Just drop it please.” He cut Joshua off, closing his eyes as he buried his face in his palm. If Y/N could this, if Y/N could that, if only he was a bit more bolder-

“Even a game character manages to confess his love to his best friend and end up together. Just how- just how pathetic am I?”

He could feel his friend’s sad stares on his back and it just worsened his mood. Every bit of him just wanted to curl into a ball and cry. 

Why couldn’t he fall out of love with you? Why couldn’t he just stop loving you? Why did you have to be so goddamn perfect in every way that no matter how hard he tried, he still ended up pining for you?

“It’s just a game.” He said, his voice thicker than he had expected it to be. “It’s just a game. Let’s go back to work.”

“This isn’t a date, by the way.” Mingyu clarified, causing the girl sitting opposite to him to give him a dry look. 

“It’s not. It’s a self realisation therapy from your pathetic love life.” She said, slicing into her meat. Mingyu winced at her words but couldn’t say anything back because, well, she was right. 

When Minghao had learnt that Y/N had broken up with her umpteenth boyfriend, he had decided to take matters into his own hand and asked (read: forced) Mingyu to go on a date with none other than Joshua’s sister, Julia. 

“If Joshua finds out you’re having a dinner date with me, you’re dead.” She said, as though being able to read his mind. 

“And if Wonwoo finds out I’m having a dinner date with his new secretary, I’m dead. In other words, I’m in a risky position of being murdered by my best friends.” 

At this, Julia laughed, the mood of the table finally changing from annoyance at being forced to randomly go on a ‘date’ to that of one Mingyu was used to whenever he used to play with her everytime he would come over to Joshua’s house. 

“It’s okay Dr. Black. I’ll find the culprit and make sure he gets what he deserves. You know how good I’m at Cluedo.”

“Yeah.” Mingyu said with a smile at the memory of the younger girl always defeating them at the murder mystery board game. “But the problem is Wonwoo is too smart while Joshua’s really creative. It might be hard for you to guess who did it.” 

“It’s fine, don’t worry. I’m sure all twelve of them want you to be alive for a very long time so that you can get married to Y/N and grow old and boring with her.” She said, rolling her eyes.

“By the way, I’m amazed by all of their deduction skills. Except the four who always hang out with me, I mean. How did they all come to know?” 

“Duh.” She rolled her eyes at him. “It was so obvious that even Soonyoung didn’t need to blabber away. Hell, even I knew it before you realised it.”

“Wow, thanks.” He muttered. “Good to know that I’m obvious to everyone except that one person I wish would know.”

Julia chuckled, shaking her head a little. “You are to blame too. You always run to her beck and call no matter what.”

“That’s because-” Mingyu opened his mouth to explain but she just raised her hand, cutting him off.

“Don’t give me that crap about doing everything for your best friend. Because yes, you should be doing a lot of things for your best friend. But there’s a limit to everything, Mingyu. Knowingly or unknowingly, she’s trampling on your feelings. Excess of even good things isn’t healthy for us.”

His eyes dropped to his food, which suddenly felt unappetizing. He swallowed the food stuck in his throat, feeling a bad taste in his mouth. 

“But I- But I just don’t know how to tackle this.” He whispered, and Julia reached out to hold his hand lightly. He looked up at her and saw the sadness and sympathy in her eyes. 

“It’s okay.” She whispered. “It’s okay, Mingyu. We all come across situations where we might feel like we are being trampled by the person we love in some way or the other, even if it’s not their intention. And you know why that happens? Because in that scenario, they aren’t communicating with each other. But all relationships are made on understanding. How can the two of you even be friends if you can’t understand each other? And yet, it is not within our power to be able to completely understand every feeling, emotion and thought of the other person. At that time, you need to communicate. You need to speak out. Ever thought of dropping hints?” 

He stared at her. “ You…want me to confess to her?”

She shook her head once more.“Not confess, silly. Stay completely away from Y/N for a week or two. Sort out your thoughts. And then approach her. Objectively speak out your thoughts and feelings to her. She might be taken aback by it but it’s okay, give her some time. She’ll get back to you.”

“And what if she doesn’t?” Mingyu asked. His eyes must have been showing his fear because she gave his hand a gentle squeeze before drawing it and sitting back.

“Well then she’s not the one for you, nor is she a good friend. Whether she says yes or no doesn’t matter. And judging by how you are always by her side whenever she has a breakup, I’m sure you can accept her no too. But if she runs away without any proper response, then well it’s time to move on. You are a wonderful person, Mingyu. We all want the best for you.”

He gulped. “I know. I know. But it’s just so- just so hard, you know. I just feel like I’ll lose her. I just feel like I’ll lose.”

“Lose what?”

“Y/N. My love. My best friend. My everything.”

“You mean you feel like you are a lose-her.”

“Julia.” He said, though he couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. But don’t worry. In that one week you’ll stay away from her to organise yourself, I’ll be there with you and help you out. And I’ll make sure all the twelve of us do. You have to, Mingyu. You have to. You have to take a break from her. And think about everything clearly.” 

He smiled at her more brightly this time, head clearing up. She was right. “Yeah, yeah. I will. I will, don’t worry. What would I do without you? What would we do without you?”

“I know right.” She said, all the seriousness from a minute ago gone as she stuffed an entire piece of bread in her mouth. “This is why Minghao set you up on a date with me.”

“For the last time,” Mingyu groaned, “this isn’t a date. It’s a self realisation therapy from my pathetic love life.”

“-self realisation therapy from your pathetic love life.”

The two of them stared at each other as they said the exact same thing at the same time, before bursting out into laughter.

“See?” Julia said after a while, laughter slowly bubbling away. “You are already getting better as you slowly realise.”

“Yeah, sure.” Mingyu said. “Now let’s just hope Wonwoo or Joshua doesn’t kill me tomorrow itself when they find out about today’s plan.”

“By the way,” She said, biting into the last morsel of bread. “I’m curious about my job offer. Why did Wonwoo ask me if I wanted to become his secretary? Not that I’m complaining since I’ve always been envious of the projects Seokmin, Seungkwan, Joshua and you used to do but yeah, I’m just curious because this was quite sudden.”

“Oh that.” Mingyu coughed, not sure how he was supposed to answer this question when it could lead to his partial balding in case Julia pulled his hair in anger. “So, um, Joshua. He, uh, he had sex with Wonwoo’s old secretary so I guess he wants you to keep an eye on-”

“He did what?!” She spluttered, proceeding to stand up and then froze, eyes looking at something behind Mingyu in horror. 

Just as Mingyu was about to turn to see what had happened, someone behind him let out a yell.

“Taehyung, I already told you no!” 

The familiar voice caused him to turn faster than he had expected, and he nearly jumped out of his seat to get to you. In two strides he was by your side, yanking the man’s hand away from your arm.

He could feel your shocked face on him but he ignored it, choosing the focus on the man in his grip who was making his blood seethe in anger. “What the fuck,” he said, his voice coming out much lower than he had expected, “Do you think you are doing?”

“And who the fuck are you?” The man glared, trying to yank his hand out of Mingyu’s grasp but he just tightened it, not letting the man budge even a bit. Through the corner of his eyes, he could see a few staff come over to them to break the fight, but all he could see was red, especially when your next few words came out in a scared whisper. 

“G-Gyu.” You whispered and he felt a small tugging at his elbow. “You don’t have to-”

“Gyu? Oh, so you are Gyu? Well fuck off asshole before I beat the shit out of you for ending everything between us.”

“We ended because of you.” You said and Taehyung snarled at you, causing Mingyu to give his hand another squeeze, diverting Taehyung’s attention back to him. 

“You were just fucking paranoid, you bastard. Don’t even try to blame it on others. Y/N’s better off without you.”

“Oh yeah?” He sneered. “And how would you know that considering the fact you are the reason we broke up?”

What? As if I could even make a move on Y/N. But instead he said, “Is that so? Well good for her then. My girlfriend doesn’t need to date insecure idiots like you.” 

Mingyu felt the air around him drop as the three people around him (Julia had managed to pry you off him) stared at him, but he just prayed that you wouldn’t look very surprised and give away the lie.

In fact, he was sure Taehyun would begin laughing at their faces but that seemed to do the trick. His eyes darted between Mingyu and you, sputtering out words as his face reddened with each passing second.

“You- you- you cheater!” He began, pointing an accusing finger at you. “You liar, you slu-”

“That’s enough.” Mingyu growled, grabbing Taehyung’s collar to drag him out of the restaurant, which wasn’t so hard considering the differences in their builds (he never thought that going to the gym would help him out in this way). Once outside, he let go of the other man, eyeing him disgustedly.

“Stay away from Y/N.” He said flatly, pushing the man a little when he tried to hurl himself at Mingyu. He saw Julia and you come down through the stairs slowly, the former holding you gently as you made your way down. “If not, I’ll call the police on you and maybe even get a restraining order.”

“Fuck, a restraining order just because I want to get back to her? You are as fucking messed up as that bitch.” He growled.

“I will call the police right now if you don’t stop calling my girlfriend names like that. Besides, what you are doing is stalking. So get lost now before I actually remove the front two teeth of yours.”

Holding his wrist gingerly, Taehyung gave the trio another disgruntled group, before turning the other direction and walking away, muttering something about mental people ending up together.

As Mingyu watched his figure disappear down the street, he could feel the adrenaline rush quickly disappearing from his veins. The cool night air pressed against him as he felt his body temperature finally come down from its previous risen state, chest rising up and down as he tried to control his breathing slowly.

Mingyu turned to look at you, and felt his heart clench painfully as he took in your shrunken appearance, nodding vigorously as Julia whispered into your ear, rubbing circles on your back. Walking up to you, he took your hands in his and sighed, before asking, “Are you okay?”

Your eyes darted to his and stayed there, lips slightly parted, taking in his features as though it was the first time you were seeing him. You stared at him for a few seconds before Mingyu asked again, feeling worry cloud his mind. “Y/N?”

Saying your name seemed to snap you out of your trance as you jerked away from him, removing your hands from his as you rubbed your arms.

“Yeah.” You said, your voice strained as your eyes roamed over his face with an unreadable expression. Now he was getting really worried. What else had Taehyung done to you? Had it happened before? Though Mingyu knew about your obsessive ex, you had never mentioned to him about Taehyung disturbing you before. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You said, finally looking down. “Thank you for pretending to be…my boyfriend.” The way you said ‘my boyfriend’ sounded foreign to Mingyu’s ears, like you were having difficulty pronouncing it. It did hurt him a bit but he was more preoccupied by the way you were acting.

He sighed, taking off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders. “You are not fine.” 

“I- I-” You opened your mouth to speak but then closed it, as though still trying to figure out whether or not you were okay. Mingyu could see your mind running in a million different directions so he figured it would be better if you could slowly jot down your thoughts in a more comfortable place.

Turning to Julia, he said, “I’m taking Y/N back home. I’ll drop you on the way, okay?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll take a cab. Don’t worry about me. Just get Y/N back home safely, okay?” She said, already taking out her phone to book an Uber. With a jolt, Mingyu suddenly realised how much Julia had grown up and that she was no longer the small girl who used to peep into her older brother’s room through the curtains.  

“Okay. But give me a call when you reach, okay?” He said as she waved them goodbye before getting into the taxi. Then turning to you, he gave his hand and you took it, though you were avoiding his eyes once more.

Even the ride back to your place was filled with silence and though Mingyu wanted to ask you about what had just happened, he could feel that your thoughts were completely preoccupied. It was only when he parked the car in front of your house did you speak up.

“Gyu.” You said, finally turning to look at him. He froze when he saw glassy your eyes were, your bottom lip trapped by your teeth as you bit onto it to prevent yourself from crying. 

“Y/N?” He asked worriedly, grabbing your hand with one hand as he cupped your face with the other. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Is it Taehyung? Did he hurt you? Has he done it before? When did it-”

“It’s not him.” You said with a sniffle, screwing your eyes shut as the first tear fell, leaning into Mingyu’s touch. He felt his heart squeeze painfully and he gently wiped away your tears with his thumb. “It’s not him. Don’t worry about him, it’s- He just happened to meet me here today and he started acting like that but it’s- but it’s-”

“It’s what?” Mingyu asked gently and you opened your eyes to look at him. Taking in another shuddering breath to control your tears, you said, “I- I just realised something this evening. And I- and I don’t know how to deal with it.”

Worry grew in him as he took in your words. “What is it? You can tell me everything, you know that, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” You whispered, shaking your head. You placed your other hand on his and gave it a squeeze, as though trying to find comfort in his touch. “I don’t even know how to say it though. I- I think I will mess it up.”

“Okay. Okay. It’s okay.” He whispered, slowly rubbing small circles on the back of your hand in an attempt to calm you down. “Breath with me. Breath Y/N. It’s going to be okay. I’m there right here. I’ll always be there for you.” 

“I know. I know. I just- don’t know what to do about it.” You rambled, still crying.

Mingyu’s mind was in a whirlwind. For the first time in twenty years, he couldn’t understand what you were talking about, what you were implying or what was making you cry. 

It was certainly not Taehyung. And it was definitely not something he had said or else you would have been uncomfortable around him. So what had happened this evening that had broken you down like this?

“Gyu.” You sobbed, leaning into the crook of his neck as you buried your face in his shoulder. “Gyu, I’m so sorry for this. I’m so so sorry.” Sorry for what? “Promise me you’ll never hate me. I can never hate you too. I’ll love you forever. But promise me you’ll love me forever too. No matter what happens. 

“I promise.” He said, the only response from you being your sobs getting louder as you dug your fingers into his shoulder deeply. And unlike all the other promises Mingyu had made to you, he intended to keep this one.

“Hi.” Mingyu said with a smile, extending his umbrella over your head as he came and stood beside you. Though you were not getting wet, he could see that you were shivering slightly from the cold, rubbing your arms as the rain dripped from the narrow beam sheltering you and fell into the puddle forming right in front of both of you.

You looked up at him just as you sucked in a breath sharply, staring at him with such wide eyes that your pupils were completely blown out. He cocked his head to a side worriedly, smile faltering a little as you continued to stare at him. 

“Y/N?” He asked softly, taking a step closer until he could wrap an arm around your waist. “Are you okay?”

You blinked at him, looking away shyly as you muttered a small ‘yeah’, finger digging into your arms as you tried hiding your face from him. Mingyu frowned, taken aback by the sudden change of behaviour. Were you shy in front of him?

“Hey.” He said, this time a bit more louder as he gently tugged you towards him until he was practically hugging you, resting his chin on top of your head. He moved his arm up to your elbow, rubbing small circles on it, causing you to let out a sigh as you finally turned to him, burying your face into his neck. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You muttered, wrapping your arms around his torso as though trying to engulf yourself in his warmth completely. He felt his heart squeeze at your endearing action, a chuckle escaping him as he let you stay in that position, enjoying the sound of rain.

“Is it Taehyung?” He finally asked, breaking the silence after a while. Your head shot up as you looked at him in surprise, as though caught completely off guard by his question. “Tae- What? No! Of course not. Don’t worry, I haven’t had the time to think about him.”

Mingyu hummed in response, asking you to go on. You rested your head against his shoulder once again, pausing a little as though thinking about how to go on. “I’ve been thinking about…something. Something else. A lot of things actually, so uh, I’ve been feeling tired for the past few days.” 

“Care to tell me what’s running in your pretty head so that I can lessen your burden?” He felt you relax into his touch but then stiffen almost immediately, slowly slipping out of his grip. He let the arm holding you drop as you made some space between the two of you, still close enough for him to feel your body warmth. 

He watched you with worry as you chewed on your lips, before looking at him with a rather obviously forced smile. “Nope, you unfortunately can’t.” You said, the smile still plastered on your face. “It’s work related so of course it’s out of your domain.”

“Okay…” He said slowly, still uncertain but deciding to drop the subject for now. “So, uh, you said Chaewon wanted to see me?”

“She wanted to see us.” You corrected and even though you had meant it as a joke, Mingyu’s mind couldn’t help but replay that night when you had said us was the special thing you had wanted to show and he felt his heart lighten up a bit at the reminder of it.

But in front of you, he rolled his eyes. “Fine, us. Why did she want to meet us?”

You shrugged. "Said she had to give us somethi-"

"Mingyu!" Someone called him just as he felt a new arm drape around his neck, its owner wedging herself between him and you. He blinked for a second as the heavy smell of perfume and loss of warmth overtook him, before smiling back at the woman flashing all her teeth at him. "How are you?"

"I'm good. What about you, Chaewon?" He asked, gently detaching himself from her powerful grip. "How's work?"

"It's being a pain in the ass so of course I'm not fine." She said with a laugh that Mingyu too returned (politely). “Anyways, I’ve got a surprise for both of you!” 

“Yeah, yeah. You’ve been going on and on about the surprise but what is it actually? You said, rolling your eyes a bit. Mingyu had never realised how cute you looked when you were annoyed but right now, you looked absolutely adorable, with your eyebrows slightly knotted together as you huffed out a breath. 

“So…” Chaewon drawled, looking at either of them once before pulling out something from her pocket. “I got you us tickets for the 9Muses!” 

Mingyu blinked at her, feeling his cheeks pull into a smile as a new found excitement erupted in his heart. “Wait- 9Muses? Really?” 

Chaewon smiled back at him superiorly as she waved four tickets in front of his face. “Yeah, yeah. I know, I’m awesome. You can thank me later on when you and your future girlfriend finally hit off.”

The last statement caused him to pause, eyes darting to you as a force of habit before looking back at Chaewon in surprise. “Future…girlfriend?” 

She meant you, right? It wasn’t the first time people had mistaken the two of you for a couple but Chaewon had known you since college which could only mean that she was referring to-

“I’ve set you up for a blind date!” She said excitedly, but Mingyu could feel the colour draining from his face as an ugly sensation rose up his throat. “That’s why I actually have four tickets-”

“You did what?” You asked, causing him to look at you in surprise. You were looking at Chaewon in complete shock with your mouth slightly open, as though you could not believe what she had just done. Chaewon too seemed to be taken aback by your reaction, because her next few sentences came out in a stammer. 

“I- I thought- You told me you were sad that Mingyu was never in a relationship so I thought- “

“I-” You began, but stopped when you looked at him, immediately averting your eyes to the ground instead. Something was wrong. Something was bothering you from the very beginning but Mingyu could tell that something about this proposal had upset you even more. But what was it? Did you not want to go to the concert? 

“Yeah. Yeah I did say that.” Then looking up at him, you gave him a smile, though he could see that you were battling with something deep inside. “You should totally take that person out as you date. Who knows, you both might hit it off really well, huh?”

Even though he had prepared himself for this very situation many times before, these words coming from you still hit him with a blow. It had been years since he had gone on a date with your friend Suji and yet it still hurt him freshly that you were this eager to give him away to someone else so readily. He was still okay with you always dating someone else but everytime you would try to get him to go out with someone, it would hurt him even more.

But instead, he smiled back at you and nodded to your words. “Yeah, who knows? We might actually end up dating.” 

You laughed at his statement, hitting him on the shoulder lightly. “Oh my god, I can’t wait to babysit my nephews and nieces.”

“Excuse me?” Mingyu gasped, giving you a look of disgust. “That’s too far, don’t you think?” 

“Well, you are such a gentleman that it would be stupid for anyone to let you go.” Chaewon commented with a smile and Mingyu felt his cheeks heat up a little. 

“It’s nothing like that.” He muttered. He felt you reach out for his hand and give it a squeeze, causing him to look at you. You smiled at him softly, before saying, “Don’t say that, Gyu. You are the kindest and sweetest person in this world. Anyone would want to be with a wonderful person like you.”

Then why don’t you want to?

But before he could retort to your compliment that had him almost weak in his knees, Chaewon clapped both of you on your backs. “Okay, then! It’s decided. I’ll send you the details later on, Mingyu. See you on Sunday!” 

“Yeah, bye!” Mingyu waved at the two of you as Chaewon produced an umbrella (practically out of nowhere) and wrapped an arm around you and darted across the street. He watched the two of you with a smile as you struggled to keep up with your friend’s pace, finally breaking free from her grasp when you both reached the other end. Turning back, you waved at him one final time before slipping into your car.

He waited for your car to completely disappear down the street before stepping out into the rain himself, his heart weighing down more and more with each step he took. 

Time to brace yourself again, Mingyu. 

“Perfume. Check. Breath mints. Check. Keys. Check.” Mingyu muttered, going over his things that he was supposed to carry one last time before he actually left. Glancing at the mirror one last time, he smiled to himself, patting down his hair to fix his hairstyle.

Be happy, Mingyu! You are going to a 9Muses concert. And you look fine. 

Then why doesn’t Y/N think I look good?

The very reminder of you brought up the bile to his throat, his smile dropping almost immediately as he let out a sigh. Exhausted, he crashed onto his sofa massaging his throbbing temples that had been hurting ever since Friday due to his complicated thoughts.

He was going to go to the concert of his favourite band. With you. And with a pretty girl that could potentially be his future girlfriend if things went well tonight. 

Then why did he feel like throwing up at the very thought of holding someone else’s hand that wasn’t you? Why did his skin crawl at the thought of smiling, laughing and flirting with someone that wasn’t you?

He felt so sick that a small part of him didn’t even want to go to the concert now. The fact that he would be on a date with another girl with you right beside him was suffocating him so much that he really felt like he was going to die.

He could feel himself shrinking back to his fifteen year old self, when he was on a date and he felt like throwing up. Back then he didn’t know why. But now that he did, it felt even more worse. 

Mingyu glanced at the clock on his wall, before closing his eyes to calm himself down. He still had an hour to go and pick up Yoobin and then drive to the concert. If he could just-

The doorbell suddenly rang, jerking him out of his thoughts and he sat up straight, frozen as to what to do next.

Who could it be at this time? He wasn’t expecting anyone. It certainly wasn’t Wonwoo as he had gone for a week to live with his parents. Lately, there had been a lot of burglaries in his neighbourhood. It couldn’t be…?

“Snap out of it.” He muttered, slapping himself lightly before getting up to go and get the door. He was sure that it was a dinner delivery at the wrong address and swung open the door, ready to tell the delivery man he was at the wrong house. 

But when he opened the door, he found himself staring at you, you who were completely dressed up for the concert and definitely not supposed to be here, you who looked so stunning that Mingyu momentarily forgot to speak until you broke the silence. 

“Don’t go out with her.”

“What?” Mingyu asked, snapping out of his reverie as he tried processing your statement. What were you talking about?

You took a step closer to him and repeated your statement. “Don’t go out with her. Yoobin. Don’t go out with her.”

You reached out to him but all he could react to your statement was by taking a step back instead, feeling even more confused about what you were talking about.

“What do you mean? What’s wrong?” He asked. You opened your mouth and closed it, before taking in another step towards him so that you were inside the house now. 

Taking in a shaky breath, you whispered. “Please don’t go out with her, Gyu. I know it’s very selfish of me but I-”

Swiftly, Mingyu closed the door behind you before pulling you close to him by your waist, cupping your face in his hands. “Hey,” he whispered, as you froze in his touch, eyes going glassy with tears. He could feel himself panicking at the thought that maybe someone had hurt you badly but he tried to keep himself calm. “What’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong, love. You’ve been acting so different these few days and now this-”

“It’s because I love you.” You choked, tears finally streaming down your cheeks. “I love you, Gyu. I love you. I love you so, so much.”

Now it was Mingyu’s time to freeze. His brain seemed to slow down by a million years as a loud ringing filled his ears instead, stomach dropping like he was on a roller coaster. What did you just say?

You covered his hands with yours, gently removing them from your cheeks and holding them in yours instead as you whispered. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry Mingyu. I know I’m really selfish but please don’t go out-”

The rest of your rambling was completely cut off as he smashed his lips against yours, fireworks immediately exploding in his heart. He felt you drop his hands as you wrapped it around his arms, fingernails digging into his skin as you held onto him while you kissed him back as passionately as he was kissing you. Every bit of Mingyu’s perception was drowned out as you took over his senses, and the only thing he could think and feel was you, you and you.

He ran his one hand fervently against your back while the other pulled you impossibly closer by your waist. His entire skin tingled as you ran your mouth over his again and again, tangling your finger in his locks. 

Mingyu couldn’t believe it. He just couldn’t believe it. If it wasn’t for the excess blood pumping to his ears and his heart threatening to swell and burst out of love and happiness, he would have been sure that this was just a dream. 

Finally, you pulled away, gasping for breath, and the loss of warmth caused him to chase after your lips, desperate to get back that euphoric feeling of kissing you.

You laughed lightly as you placed a hand over his chest to stop him, tears once again flowing down your cheeks. Mingyu rested his forehead against yours, cupping your face gently with one hand as you leaned in to his touch even more. 

“I waited for you so long.” He whispered, and you screwed your eyes shut, nodding to his statement. “I loved you for so, so long. So long.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered back, opening his eyes to look at him. “I’m so sorry I never realised I loved you and even when I did, I didn’t approach you.”

At this, Mingyu shook his head, resting both of his hands on the small of your back as you cupped his face, staring at him so softly and with so much love that he could feel his knees going weak. “Don’t apologise. I just- I just wish that I had kissed you in a more romantic setting-”

“Oh, Gyu.” You said, brushing your lips against his, causing his brain to short circuit once again. “This was the best kiss I’ve ever had. It’s you who made it so romantic. Doesn’t matter that I barged into your house an hour before we left.”

“I think it should matter.” He said with a pout. “After all, you did barge into my house.” 

You pressed a quick kiss on his lips in response. “And what should I do to make up for it, baby?” 

Mingyu didn’t think it was possible to fall in love with you more than he already was but somehow, impossibly, you calling him baby had him falling for you even more. The entire world around him had dimmed as he could see only your face, eyes shining and lips quirked in a cocky smile. 

He didn’t even realise he was staring at you until you reached up and kissed him softly again, closing his mouth that had been slightly open. “Gyu.” You murmured. “I asked you a question.”

“Huh?” He asked, too busy kissing you back. Was your heart supposed to dance like this whenever you kissed someone? He wasn’t even sure if his stomach dropping so much as your hands ran over his back was a good sign.

“I asked what I should do to make it up to you.” 

Oh. His eyes flicked to your lip gloss smudged lips, which were swollen and this time Mingyu felt a different kind of feeling spark in his heart. A desire to ruin you even more. 

“Well,” he said, kissing the corner of your lips. “You could let me worship you.” Another kiss on your jawline, causing you to sigh. The sound shot up a shiver down his spine and he wondered if he would be able to survive even the night. “Let me show you how much I’ve loved and wanted you for all these years.”

“Yes, but,” you said, pushing yourself away from him. “I should be the one making up to you.” Saying that, you pushed him, not too hard, but enough for him to stumble back and fall on the sofa (thank god the sofa happened to be there. Mingyu wasn’t sure if he would be able to live with the embarrassment had he fallen on his ass instead.)

He watched you in awe as you climbed onto his lap, straddling him as you wrapped your arms around his neck and he found himself grabbing you by your waist to pull you in closer. You looked so sexy that Mingyu was sure he had ascended to heaven.

You leaned down to capture his lips in yours again, feeling your thumb gently stroke his jawline. He could taste your lip gloss, igniting that fire in the pit of his stomach again as he licked your bottom lip to get more of it. 

You opened your mouth a little more and his tongue accidentally slipped in, and Mingyu couldn't help but dig his nails into your skin in an attempt to cover up his groan. Your mouth was so wet and warm against his, tongue gliding over each other’s as you both fought for dominance.

He quickly broke the kiss, before moving to kiss the soft skin right below your ears.

“Gyu…” You hummed, the sound sending a shiver through his dick. He really wanted to elicit more of those sounds from you now, so he grazed his teeth lightly into the skin, causing a gasp to escape you. Immediately he soothed the area with his tongue, your gasp turning into a very low moan as pulled at the locks of his hair near his neck. “Gyu, I love you so much.”

“I love you too. I’ve always loved you, angel. And I’ll love you forever.” He whispered back, leaving trails of kisses on your neck as he moved downwards, finally stopping at the hollow of your neck. By now, he had realised that the best way to get you undone was by grazing his teeth against your skin and then soothing the area with his tongue. 

But when you shifted slightly on his lap to move even more closer for him, he felt his dick twitch and another groan escaped him. It felt so good, and so, so right doing this with you, whatever the two of you were even doing. Your head was completely thrown back as Mingyu marked love bites all over your neck, gripping on his hair as you grinded down on him. Your moans had gotten much louder by now and with each sound he got out of you, he could feel his dick getting harder and harder. 

Each time your cunt rubbed against his dick, mingyu felt a small relief wash over him but it just wasn’t enough; he wanted more of it, more of you and he wanted you to want him equally as much. 

“Gyu.” You whispered, all of a sudden, causing him to pause. He looked at you with widened eyes, panic gripping him that he had done something wrong. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“Can you- can you take off your shirt? If you are okay with it? Or else-”

“Yeah, I’m okay with it, princess. A hundred percent okay. Okay with whatever you do.” He said, reaching downward to pull off his shirt but felt your hands stop him, causing him to look at you in surprise.

You were looking at him with guilt and a bit of sadness, before you reached down to press a soft kiss on his lips.

“Don’t say that, Gyu. Don’t say that, please. I’ve been hurting you all these years. Knowingly or unknowingly. So don’t- don’t say that, okay? I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” You said.

For some reason, Mingyu felt his heart soften at your words. It was like a huge knot that had tangled his heart, not allowing it to beat and causing him pain for all these years had finally opened, releasing him from all pain. He smiled at you and nodded, and you slowly let go of his arms, allowing him to take off his shirt finally.

Mingyu always knew he had a great build. He took pride in how well he took care of his body and was kind of used to people complimenting him.

But nothing prepared him for the way you were looking at him right now, like he was some god who had just materialised in front of you. As soon as his shirt was off you sucked in a deep breath, your teeth sinking into your lower lips. Your eyes flicked all over his body, pupils darkening as you took in his physique.

He had never felt so bare in front of anyone and yet, it felt really good being like this in front of you. You lifted your hand slightly and placed it in front of his chest, looking at him for permission. When he nodded a yes, you let your hand finally touch, fingers trailing gently over his toned chest.

It was like you had set his skin ablaze; he could feel where your fingers had trailed against his now warm skin. A low moan escaped his throat when you gently brushed your finger against his nipple, causing you to smirk. Fuck, you were so hot.

“You are so handsome, baby. And so, so hot.” You said, leaning down to kiss his jaw this time. Another moan escaped him as you too repeated his action, sucking on the soft skin of his neck before licking it with your tongue. Your hands that were roaming all over his body were making his skin hotter with each second, which was doing nothing to give relief to his achingly hard dick. 

“Can you take these off for me too?” You asked sweetly, tugging at his belt. Though he was mildly annoyed that you had climbed off his lap, resulting in the loss of your touch, he quickly jumped off the sofa and undid his belt, shimmering out of his jeans before turning to look back at you.

Your eyes now flicked all over his body as you took in his entire appearance, and he felt his dick twitch under your gaze. Your eyes then moved up to meet his, smiling so tenderly at him that Mingyu had to sit back down to make sure he didn’t melt into a puddle then and there. You climbed back onto his lap, straddling him as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Hi, love.” You whispered with a smile, bumping your nose against his. 

“Hi.” Mingyu said, mirroring back your smile. 

“Can I ride you?” 

He found himself nodding to your question, anticipation eating away his heart as you tugged onto the band of his underwear, and he raised his hips a little as you both pulled it off. A tiny bit of relief flooded him as his hard dick sprang free, finally able to breath a little.

Mingyu watched you as you took him in with hooded eyes, letting out a sigh of relief as you brushed your thumb against his now angry red tip, already leaking with precum. 

“Aren’t you- Aren’t you going to take off your clothes?” He asked and you shook your head in negative. “After some time. You’re so pretty, Gyu.” You replied, wrapping your hand around his length and giving it a gentle squeeze. He thought he could see stars as his head fell back with a groan, hips jerking up to chase your hand as you removed it.

“Don’t tease me.” He hadn’t meant it to come out as a whimper, just as a request, but right now he was so desperate for you that he didn’t care if he sounded this pathetic. 

“Sorry baby.” You said, but you were smirking, clearly enjoying the power play here. And for that reason, that made him even harder (if that was even possible) for you. You raised your hip up and slipped your hand underneath your skirt to pull your panties aside. 

Then slowly, you sunk down. He felt your warm and wet pussy envelope just his tip, and a groan ripped from his throat at the feeling. Your hips too stuttered as you let out a moan, pausing to take in a deep breath. Mingyu could see that you were fighting with yourself to not sink in completely from the way your nails were digging into his shoulders. 

He didn’t know what came over him but he was so done with playing gentleman with you, so tired of not being able to feel you fully, so sick of keeping himself away from you that he found himself grabbing your hips and pulling you down as slowly as he could.

When you finally bottomed out, the two of you letting out a moan in unison. Mingyu’s eyes rolled back as he felt your warm walls flutter around his length, trying to adjust to the size. The erratic squeezing was not helping him keep his composure and he could already feel his balls squeezing, ready to let go any second from now.

“Mingyu.” He heard you whine, the sound shooting straight up to his brain as his eyes snapped open to look at you. You looked back at him with complete adoration, and Mingyu felt his insides melt, leaning towards you to capture your lips in his.

The kiss was short lived though; as you raised your hips slightly, before bringing it down with a slam. He broke the kiss to groan loudly against your lip as your pussy clenched around his length once more, before you swallowed his moans with another kiss. 

He felt your hot tongue slip into his mouth, drowning all his moans as you raised your hips once again and brought it down. Gently, you picked up the pace, a small pressure forming in his lower abdomen. 

“You’re so beautiful, do you know that?” You whispered, his moans increasing as you sucked his lower lip. “So, so beautiful and so perfect. I love you so much Mingyu.” 

Mingyu felt his balls tighten at your words, the knot in his stomach growing tighter and tighter as you whispered soft praises into the skin of his neck, sucking and marking at the soft skin. 

“I love you. I love you too.” He whimpered back, burying his face into the crook of your neck. You ran your hand through the strands of his hair as he clutched your waist, trying to find something to ground himself too. The coil was getting too tight, too tight for him to hold himself back and you squeezing the life out of his dick was definitely not helping the situation. 

“Are you- are you close, Gyu?” You asked, and he nodded. You felt so good, just so good, with the way your warm and wet walls were pulsing around him, causing ecstasy to shoot through his veins. 

But now he could feel you slowing down a bit, obviously tired from riding him. You didn’t say anything though, and Mingyu could see you were trying to live up to your promise. So instead he relaxed into the sofa a bit more, before snapping up his hips to meet you halfway.

The sound that ripped through your throat was like music to his ears and he could feel himself threatening to burst, body threatening to snap under the intensity of pressure he was feeling.

“Baby-” He gasped. “Baby, I can’t- I can’t-”

“Let go.” You choked, slamming your lips against his to steal his breath away.

And that was enough for the coil in his stomach to snap. White hot pleasure coursed through his veins as a ringing sound took over his ears, all senses hindered as he lost himself in the bliss. Another groan stumbled out of his lips as you too finally came, doubling his pleasure as you coated his cock with your warm liquid, squeezing it as though to take in all his cum.

He wrapped his arm around you more tightly so that now both of your bodies were practically one, sweat and cum mixing with each other as both of you tried to catch your breaths. 

After some time, Mingyu felt you ruffle his hair lightly and he finally peeled away from you, only to look up at you. You gave him a tired smile and he felt his heart squeeze, wondering for the millionth time how he had ended up with an angel like you. 

“Hi.” You giggled, brushing your nose against his as you fondly cupped his cheeks. 

He felt himself melt into your touch as he smiled back, quickly pressing a soft kiss against your lips. “What just happened?”

You laughed at his question and wrapped your arms around his neck, engulfing him in your scent as he buried his face into your neck.. The two of you stayed like that for sometime, just enjoying each other’s presence as the only sound heard was your rapid heartbeats and the sound of your slightly laboured breaths.

“I love you, Mingyu. Always had.”

“Hmm?” He hummed, kissing your collar bone. 

“Yeah. I realised that’s why I could never be in a happy relationship with anyone. And why they always complained that I wasn’t interested in them.” Your voice had dropped a little and he could sense your sadness, so he began rubbing soft circles on your back to calm you down. “I kept searching for you in them. I kept searching for you. And- and all this time- all this time I-”

“Shhh. It’s okay princess.” He whispered, looking up to meet your eyes. He smiled at you gently. “It’s okay princess. We are here together now, and that’s all that matters.”

You stared at him for a second, before whispering. “I hurt you.”

“You also hurt yourself, baby. But now, we can help each other out. We can pick up our broken pieces and fix them. This time, together.”

“Oh Mingoo.” You said with a soft smile. The old nickname reignited a flame in his chest, and all of a sudden, all the years he had spent with you, all the beautiful and sad memories the two of you had created together flashed before his eyes. “What did I do to get you?”

“No, what did I do to get you?” 

You giggled, leaning down to kiss his chin. “Thank you for waiting for me, Gyu.”

“What happened to Mingoo?”

“I thought you hated it.”

“I could never hate anything about you or anything that you call me.”

“So…I can call you mine?”

“Okay, stop.” He groaned, and you let out a laugh. “You’re terrible at jokes.” 

“God, and you think you’re very funny right?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him, as though it was a challenge.

“Of course! Do you know how many girls have come up to me at work and told me I’m so funny?” 

“There are no girls at your work. Only four other guys who bully you like shit.” 

“Fine, at cafes.”

“Don’t lie- Oh!” Your eyes widened in horror and Mingyu felt his stomach drop, panic seizing him. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt-”

“The concert! Your date!” You gasped, hitting him slightly on the shoulder. Then you began climbing off his lap but he caught you and moved you back, hands firmly on your waist as you struggled slightly. “Gyu, we’ll be late-”

“Oh, I don’t think we can go to the concert anyways. I’ll just text Yoobin about it.” You froze at his words, looking at him in complete surprise. “What do you mean?” 

“You still have to make it up to me.” 

Mingyu could see the gears turning in his head as you took in his words, before your lips broke into a smirk. “Right. Right, I do. But what about 9Muses? Aren’t they your favourite band?”

“No 9Muses can compare to me spending time with you. Besides, I can go to a million other concerts now that you are by my side.”

You laughed at his response, before asking, “Can we move to a more comfortable room then, sir?”

He felt his cock which was still inside your warm pussy stir to life once more at the nickname, and his head filled up with thoughts of how he could fill you up once again, make you feel good and make you his forever.

“Of course love. Can I- Can I ask you a question?” He asked as you got off him, nodding at his question as you tried to stand with your shaking legs. Mingyu quickly caught you before you stumbled and you wrapped your arms around him and smiled softly, almost causing him to fall instead because of just how pretty you looked. And because of just how much he loved you.

“Remember- remember our promise? To marry each other if we were still single when we are thirty? Will you- Would you-”

You cut off his statement by pressing your lips against his, but this was unlike any other of the kisses the two of you had just shared. This one was the softest, and yet the most loving kiss Mingyu had ever been given. He felt himself completely surrender to your unspoken confession, letting you glide your hand over his chest until you were cupping his chin, his own hands wrapped around your waist and back, engulfing you with his large body. A tiny realisation flickered at the back of his brain; that he was completely naked while you hadn’t taken off a single article of clothing, not even your panties, but something about your kiss made him feel safe and protected, as though being vulnerable was out of the question.

The two of your lips moved against each other ever so softly, like you had all the time in this world to make for what you had lost over the years. He could feel his heart swelling with love, and he felt his stomach drop with happiness when he felt your heartbeat racing too. 

Finally, you broke apart the kiss, looking up to him with soft, tender eyes. The fairy lights behind you were giving you a soft glow, and Mingyu was sure that he had just fallen for you even more. 

“Marry you?” You asked, and he found himself nodding at your question. For some reason, he was no longer scared of your rejection, and the sense of doubt vanished completely when you smiled at him softly. “Yes. Yes I will, Kim Mingyu. I’ll marry you any day and any time. I’ll marry you even if the world says no, even if the world is ending or even if we have to move far away from each other. I love you so much that I’ll marry you in a blink. You are the person I’m a thousand percent sure of. And I’ll marry you even with paper rings.”

A/N: Please do tell me what you think about this story!! I worked really hard on it and I would love to know everyone’s thoughts on it~ Comments and reblogs are appreciated!  

© 𝐆𝐘𝐔-𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑  

[hoekyeom]

bruises | k.mg

street fighter bf!mingyu x afab!reader

established relationship, porn with some plot, minghao cameo cuz i love him, mentions of injury and blood, fighting, make up sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, one joke of mingyu being a masochist, one mention of death, creampie, oral (m receiving), skull fucking, daddy kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, recording, cum swallowing, cum eating, praise, muscle and size kink if you squint but that’s guaranteed in a mingyu fic 😭😭

summary: you and mingyu get into a fight over his bad habits, angst and smut ensues

wc: 2.7k

you’ve always hated the fights mingyu got himself into. he’d come home almost every week, with cuts and bruises littered all over his body. this time wasn’t any different, it was past midnight by this point, and you were curled up on the couch watching a random movie in an attempt to distract yourself from your growing worries. mingyu is usually home by this point.

a few more minutes go by and mingyu stumbles through the door with more injuries than usual. he sets his key down as you frantically walk towards him, noticing the way be avoids your eyes, “gyu.. your face, your bleeding everywhere.” he gives you a cold stare, his face battered and bloodied, and he brushes past you, going towards the bathroom where your med-kit usually was.

“yeah that’s the whole point y/n, it’s called street fighting for a reason.” you knew he wasn’t actually mad at you, just pent up anger from years of fighting, and especially tonight. scanning his whole body, the bright bathroom lighting allowing for you to see all his cuts and wounds more closely.

he slipped off his shirt, a huge bruise starting to form on the left side of his torso. “..you sure you didn’t break something?” your hand coming up to lightly stroke his ribs, mingyu’s anger blinding him from leaning into your warm touch.

“no, and why do you care so much anyway? it’s not like this is the first time.”

you tipped your head to the side, a ‘what’s that smell’ expression laid on your face, “what kind of question is that? i care because you’re my boyfriend, of course i’m gonna be worried.” your voice was nothing short of angry, your eyebrows almost meeting in the middle due to your frustration.

“you shouldn’t be.”

“uhh? yes i should, i’m tired of seeing you walk in here everyday with new cuts to clean. and your ribs.. mingyu you need to go see a doctor.”

“look y/n, i’ve been doing this for years—“

“well i think you should stop.”

it was deathly quiet, and mingyu’s hand holding a cotton pad paused in the air as he stared at you through the mirror. only the whirring sound of your ac being heard to combat the july heat. mingyu looked at you for a bit, chuckling to himself as his tongue poked through the side of his cheek, grabbing the gauze out of the med-kit and wrapping it around his knuckles.

“what’s so fucking funny?”

“oh nothing just that fact that you think you can tell me what to do.”

“yeah i’ll you what to do if it means not having you die in some alleyway.”

“please y/n, it never goes that far.”

“look at yourself! you basically limped in here, and i tried to help you but now you act like i’m a bitch for being worried about you?” you yelled.

mingyu finished up the gauze as he dropped everything and grabbed his shirt, walking towards the door. he left with a slam, not even caring to bid you goodbye, or kiss you and say ‘i love you’ like he always does.

the post-anger tears started streaming down your face. you knew he was probably gonna go crash at minghao’s, yet even with how frustrated you were, you still couldn’t help but worry and think about mingyu going to sleep untreated.

-

9:02 PM

(5) missed calls

gyu?

mingyu im sorry

are you okay? did minghao get you painkillers?

please dont fight again, at least take some time to let ur body rest :((

a full day had gone by. guilt stirred in mingyu’s stomach as he stared at his phone screen. he was the one who should be apologizing, not you.

he sighed, shutting off his phone and getting up. he knew he had to face you at some point.

“you leaving?”

mingyu hummed, shuffling into his shoes and heading out the door as minghao yelled out a goodbye. mingyu hopped in his car, letting the silence engulf him.

when mingyu walked into the apartment he noticed how dim it was, assuming you were asleep. he took his shoes off as quietly as possible, making his way to your guys’ shared bedroom. he heard a muffled voice, noting that the door was only half closed, peeking into the crack.

he saw you, adorned in one of his hoodies that was much too big for you, sleeves bunched up at your wrists and the hem coming down to your mid-thigh, naked legs on full display.

you paced around the room and it looked like you were on the phone with someone, the voice being hard to identify.

“did he say anything to you when he left?”

“nah, he just walked out.”

oh. it was minghao.

“shit, um, he didn’t even mention where he was going?”

mingyu heard the panic in your voice and the way your forefinger and thumb came to rub at your temples. he walked in as your eyes shot up to look at him, not hesitating to hang up on minghao, throwing your phone on the bed and running to jump into mingyu’s arms.

“oh my god mingyu!” you looked up at him and immediately started hitting him, “stupid! stupid! stupid! i hate you!” each hit enunciating your words, feeling like nothing but weak taps to mingyu. tears spilled out of your eyes, as mingyu only hugged you closer, hand coming up to pet your hair as the other cradled your head into his chest. he heard your muffled sniffing, his heart breaking at the stress he caused you.

“shhh i know, i know i’m stupid. i’m sorry baby.”

“you’re so mean! why didn’t you at least text me back? do you know how scared i was?” your voice broke, looking up at him with swollen eyes.

“i ..” mingyu paused, his hands coming down to hold your face, “i know i fucked up, i was too embarrassed to face you, afraid that you’d end things with me, which i would’ve probably deserved. i’m so, so sorry angel, i know no amount of apologizing will take away your worries, and i know i should’ve stayed and talked things out with you”

his thumb came to wipe away your falling tear, your hands hooking around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you. he instantly reciprocated, hands traveling down to wrap around your waist, pulling you close so that your bodies were flush against each other.

“i forgive you, i’m sorry for raising my voice at you.” you mumbled into his mouth, mingyu backing away to confusedly look at you.

“why are you apologizing? don’t say sorry baby, you should’ve slapped me as soon as i walked through that door.”

you giggled, looking down as you felt something press into your stomach, “you’re hard? really? got hard at the thought of me slapping you?” you teased.

“loooook..” mingyu looked away bashfully, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

“ew, you’re such a weirdo.” you said, slipping off mingyu’s hoodie to reveal a white tank top, your hard nipples poking through the thin fabric. you dropped down to your knees, fingers going straight to work untying your boyfriend’s sweatpants and pulling them down, along with his boxers, to his knees.

“oh, shit, hold on— you don’t have to do that baby.” mingyu hooked his hands underneath your armpits, attempting to pull you up being cut off by you stroking him.

“please, i want to.”

mingyu hesitated but was soon slapping his tip against your cheek, cooing at the way your head followed to try and get it in your mouth. finally he put it where you wanted, circling your tongue around the sensitive head. mingyu’s head lulled back, letting out a groan.

you took all of him into your mouth at once, his tip consistently hitting your uvula as you bobbed your head, twisting your hand on the base of his cock.

“fuck juuust like that baby, shit, h-have you been practicing on other guys or something?”

you laughed, only causing you to choke on his length, hitting his thigh as punishment for making you laugh while doing something that literally constricts your airflow.

“okay, okay, no more jokes, got it.” mingyu snickered, his gauzed hand grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

you came off of him with a pop, wiping off the drool dripping down your chin with the back of your hand, “gyu, u-use my mouth.”

mingyu smiled smugly, wordlessly grabbing ahold of your head with his other hand before shallowly thrusting into your wet mouth.

it wasn’t long before his length was ramming into your throat, breathless fuck’s and just like that’s leaving his cut lips. he was scared to even look down, afraid that if he saw your fucked out face he’d cum too quick.

you’re eyes looked up at him, tendrils of hair slipping past mingyu’s hold due to the sheer speed at which his hips slammed into your mouth.

“christ y/n, you look s’pretty like this, gon’ let daddy take a picture?”

you moaned at the label he placed on himself, nodding around his cock, eyes never leaving his sweat and scab covered face. mingyu pulled out his phone, angling the camera at your face. a red box with white numbers ascending appearing at the top of his screen.

“it’s a video baby, you don’t mind do you?” mingyu laughed when you attempted to hum a nuh-uh, only a string of muffled gags being heard. you were so wet, clit aching to be touched. you inched your hand down to touch yourself, drawing quick, fast circles.

“of course you don’t, so perfect, take my dick so well”

mingyu realized what it was you were doing to your lower half, “y’touching yourself? don’t worry daddy will fill y’up nice and good after this, j-jus’ let me cum in your mouth pretty.”

with a few final thrusts, and the erratic spasming of mingyu’s hips, you felt his hot cum travel down your throat, hollowing your cheeks as you slurped every last drop.

your knees ached as mingyu pulled you up, ending the video and hastily putting it in his hidden folder. he pulled you into a kiss, “did so good f’me baby, you always know how to spoil me.” he spoke into your mouth, tasting his own release.

“w-wanna ride you,” you huffed out, breathless. mingyu grinned, the right side of his face being the only indication of it, while the left was so mangled you couldn’t tell what expression he was even making. whoever he fought got him good.

“you sure? don’t tire yourself doll.”

“i’m sure!” you said grabbing mingyu’s hand, dragging him to the bed.

“whatever you say cutie,” mingyu let out a strangled breath while lowering himself down onto the bed, his torso still extremely sore, and his head perched up against the headboard. you quickly pulled down your shorts and panties as you swung your leg over his thighs, leaning down to kiss him.

you hand raked over his chest and chiseled abs, fingers dipping into each and every crevice as mingyu’s tongue explored your mouth. you pulled back and grabbed a hold of his flushed cock, rubbing it along your folds as your slick dripped down his length, a whimper leaving your lips.

“shit.” he hissed, staring intently as you paused your ministrations to line yourself up, slowly sinking down. you stared down at where you were taking him in, brushing the hair out of your face to get a better look. mingyu’s mouth fell agape, “you’re so fucking tight,” watching as a bulge slowly formed just below your belly button. even after the countless times you and mingyu had had sex, he was always just so big, your tiny pussy barely taking him in each time.

you finally looked up, mingyu’s eyes meeting your own. “jus’ gimme a sec gyu, you’re s-so big,” you said breathlessly.

mingyu smirked cockily, “take your time gorgeous.” his hands soothingly rubbing you’re plush thighs.

you bounced slowly, feeling each vein of his cock drag against your walls, tiny gasps leaving your lips. mingyu let you control the pace for a bit, allowing for you to adjust to his size. but he was getting impatient, his hands coming down to grip the sides of your hips, his four digits digging themselves into your ass before lifting you up and slamming you back down, the movement knocking the wind of you, making your jaw go slack.

“fuck!” your head hung low, hands coming up to grip his broad, muscly shoulders for support, watching out for any bruises.

“that’s it baby, just hold onto daddy and let him make y’feel good.”

mingyu’s pace was animalistic, his hold on you hard enough to leave an imprint. you were shocked as to how he had this much energy considering what his body had endured a night ago.

tears welled up in your eyes, feeling his tip kiss your cervix with each thrust. the curve of his cock aligning just right with your g-spot. “oh my fff-fucking god! mingyu please, ha-harder!”

you didn’t even know if it was possible to go harder, but mingyu managed to slam you down with even more force then before. a bead of sweat ran down his tan neck, his bangs sticking to his forehead as he stared up at you with hooded eye. his hips thrust upwards to meet you halfway, causing you to let out mangled gasps and moans. you were sure he was puncturing your lungs by this point. no inch of your pussy was left unexplored, squishy pink walls molded perfectly to hug his cock.

“jus’ like that gorgeous, your pussy was made f’me.”

“s-soo deep daddy, feel you in my tummy..” you whined out as you saw mingyu grin, canines on display, his hand coming up to grab yours, placing your hand on the bulge on your stomach, almost cumming right there when you felt the bump.

“fuck, you jus’ got so tight, y-you like when daddy pokes your tummy like that?”

you nodded frantically, tears flowing down your hot, pink cheeks, “i-i’m gon—na cum, g-gonna cum!” you struggled to get the words out, mingyu understanding you nonetheless.

“cum with me baby, gon’ let daddy cum in you?”

“fuck, yes d-daddy, want you to fill me up so bad, p-put a .. a baby in me,” mingyu loved how dirty your mouth got every time you were close to coming. his right hand pressed onto the small of your back, causing you to arch into him. his mouth was at perfect level with your nipples, taking your tit into his mouth and circling the hard nub with his tongue.

the pleasure was all too much, and with a few more hard thrusts your hole was spasming around his thick base, clenching and unclenching, mingyu’s mouth detaching from your breast as he looked up at you, his eyes shutting tightly as hot cum shot into your pussy.

“shiiiit, you’re milking me baby.” mingyu said, still grinding your hips onto him as he rode out both of your orgasms.

you reluctantly lifted yourself off of him, feeling some of mingyu’s cum drip down your thigh, scooping it with your index and middle finger and licking it off as you cuddled into his side, his arm laid across your shoulder.

mingyu watched as you cleaned him off your fingers, smoothing your disheveled hair. “such a good girl, not letting any of daddy’s cum go to waste.” he said as he booped your nose.

you giggled, “you okay though, gyu? d-does it hurt anywhere?” you asked, still breathless from your fresh orgasm.

“don’t worry about me doll, are you feeling okay? did i go too hard?”

“mm-hm, just a lil’ sore,” you snuggled closer.

“a shower should help ease y’up,” mingyu swung his feet over the bed, getting up as he reached his hand out, “think you can walk?”

“nooo i need my big, strong boyfriend to help carry me,” you joked, climbing into mingyu’s arms as he threw you over his shoulder, landing a playful slap on your ass.

“asshole! i’m not helping you replace your bandages.” mingyu could hear the pout in your voice, laughing as he made his way to the bathroom.

@gyusinning | thank you for reading!

[onlymingyus]

First Snow

pairing; jeon wonwoo x f reader

genre; fluff, angst, smut (minors dni)

warnings; ceo!wonwoo, single mom!reader, reader has a son, divorce is mentioned, ex-husband, parent of reader mentioned, svt members cameos, eating/drinking, alcohol, slight power imbalance (assistant!reader), unprotected sex, sexual health talk/reader iud, oral (f receiving), fingering, handjob, teasing, pet names, switch!wonwoo, switch!reader, manhandling (wonwoo can lift the reader), tears of pleasure, scratching, breast play, body worship, begging -- i am sure i am missing something.

w/c; 33k and some change + 1.1k of bonus content exclusive to patreon

a/n; this was a pleasure to write and it certainly got out of hand. i love a good plot. i hope you enjoy it and merry christmas/happy holidays my babes. thank you to @wonwussy for proofreading.

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

“Hello?” 

Wonwoo rests the phone against his shoulder as he turns in his office chair towards his desk. He had been answering his own phones for the past twenty minutes since you were already running late. It wasn’t usually a common occurrence but lately it has become more frequent. 

“I am so sorry. I’m literally in the parking lot, Mr. Jeon. I just have Jacob with me. His babysitter is sick. I’m waiting for someone to get back to me about coming to pick him up.” 

Your voice made Wonwoo smile. You were a good assistant and a good mother. He had met your son a few times since you started working for him about two years ago. Shaking his head, Wonwoo glanced out of the glass window that separated his office from the rest of the building and the others already working before he sighed softly. 

“Until they can get here, just bring him inside. There’s no reason to sit in your car, Y/N. I’m sure he’s not thrilled sitting in his car seat.” 

Wonwoo had no idea how right he was. Three year olds were, in your opinion, worse than the terrible twos. You weren’t even sure who had come up with that bullshit. Jacob’s eyes were red from crying as he clawed at the straps, keeping him safely contained in the seat in your backseat as he pouted at you in the mirror. Yet, the idea of taking him inside and sitting at your desk outside of Wonwoo’s office sounded like a nightmare. Jacob wasn’t the quietest child. 

“I couldn’t. He’s–” Like clockwork to put emphasis behind your point, Jacob screams “momma!” and it breaks your heart as big, fat tears stream down his face. 

“He’s bored in your car. You can work out of my office with me until someone comes to pick him up. It won’t be a bother. I like Jacob; we’ve always gotten along.” 

You can’t help the sigh that slips from your lips. They had always gotten along. Wonwoo had probably met your son a handful of times but it was true that at that time he had a way with kids. It was a shock to you that he didn’t have some of his own. It was a bigger shock that he wasn’t already married, but that wasn’t any of your business. 

“Out! Momma? Take shoes off!” 

Jacob’s demands make Wonwoo laugh as he sighs, leaning back in his chair and looking at his computer screen. His finger moves over the scroll wheel of his mouse, moving the screen down as he reads every other word. It was cute hearing your little sighs of uncertainty. Everything about you was cute to Wonwoo, though he wasn’t sure it would be very professional to tell you that. 

“I–Jacob, calm down. Fine, yes, okay. We will be right up. I’ll catch up on your schedule. Oh, Wo–Mr. Jeon? Call Mr. Kim. I meant to put that on your calendar first thing this morning. He wants to set up a lunch.” 

Before he can say anything, the call disconnects, causing Wonwoo to laugh under his breath, feeling his cheeks burning. He had asked you to call him Wonwoo on several occasions, but you insisted that since he was your boss, he deserved respect. 

Shaking his head, Wonwoo glances towards the window behind him to watch you wrangle your bag and an upset toddler to your hip, along with his things, before you move towards the door. You were amazing. Parents in general were amazing, but there was something about a single parent that made Wonwoo just take a step back in wonder. 

He was sure that you had some help. You had mentioned your parents helping you in the past, and other relatives too, but he knew you still did almost everything on your own. Just the simple act of carrying another human and all of those belongings seemed overwhelming to Wonwoo and you did it without a second thought. 

Using your badge on your keys, you let yourself into the building, already apologizing as Jacob sniffles back tiny sobs, catching the attention of your co-workers. You hadn’t wanted to bother any of them but especially not Wonwoo. The sheer thought of him drew your eyes up the stairs, where his office door was next to your desk. 

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. You know that my Jenny is around the same age. Your little one won’t be a problem.” 

Lia’s voice brings your eyes back to her as she smiles at you, moving towards you to offer to help carry something. She had always been so kind to you. Everyone had, and you had really gotten lucky with this job. Everything had fallen apart and you had vowed to Jacob that you’d pull yourself together and figure it out. This job had shown up in the listings and two years later, it was still the best place you had ever worked. 

"Thanks, Lia. Oh no… I’ve got it. I have to go upstairs to Mr. Jeon’s office. Jacob is so fussy. He said I could work in there until my mom comes to pick him up.” 

A knowing smile spreads across the woman’s lips as she stops and lifts her fingers to brush away Jacob’s tears, causing the small boy to smile at her and grab her fingers like a toy. 

“Did he? That’s so nice of him. He’s such a kind boss.” 

Sighing, you laugh, letting her pull her hand away from your son carefully so you can start up the stairs and hear her small laughter as you whisper back to her. 

“Don’t even start. I’ll text you later.” 

Waving at you, Lia returns to her desk but you know she wasn’t the only one to note your words. You had worked hard not to start any rumors about you and Wonwoo. Mainly because there was nothing to talk about. He was just a kind man and there was nothing happening, but that didn’t stop some people from thinking otherwise. 

Swallowing hard, you start to knock on Wonwoo’s office door when the door opens just before your knuckles can make contact. He had been watching and waiting for you to make it up the steps. 

"Here, let me, uh? I can take this.” 

You start to tell him no but Wonwoo takes Jacob’s bag from you before you can tell him otherwise. A sigh of relief leaves your lips at the weight taken off of your arm as you step into the room and hear the door close behind you. 

“Thank you. I could have handled it, though.” 

Wonwoo just grins, putting the bag onto a leather couch before making his way back towards his desk, choosing to lean against it. You have to look away when your brain screams about how handsome he looks. It was amazing how he could look like the lead in some drama. The hot CEO of a company was just sitting on the end of his desk, about to deliver some profound lines. 

“I know you could have, but you don’t have to do it all alone. At least not today. Unless you are just wanting to hold him, I don’t mind if Jacob is down on the floor.” Seeing the look on your face, one of uncertainty as you look around for anything breakable or any uncovered outlets, Wonwoo laughs and continues, “There’s nothing he can mess up. Everything is replaceable, and I babyproofed everything months ago.” 

Swallowing hard, you feel Jacob wiggling in your arms to be put down upon hearing his name out of Wonwoo’s mouth. With a sigh, you lean to let him on to the floor, watching him crawl towards the couch and reach for his bag just out of his reach, prompting you to walk towards it, opening it, and handing him his sippy cup. 

"Uh, why would you? I mean, why did you babyproof your office? You don’t have a kid of your own? I–shi…I mean, not that I’m aware of. That seemed out of line. I apologize.” 

Laughing, Wonwoo watches Jacob with his drink, finding the small boy adorable as he holds both handles and looks up at him with curiosity. Shrugging, Wonwoo finally finds your eyes again before shaking his head and gesturing towards Jacob. 

“My assistant has a child. It would be irresponsible of me not to. Even if something like this hadn’t happened, what if we had some other reason for him to be in my office and he wound up hurt because I hadn’t?” Shaking his head again, Wonwoo moves back around his desk, letting out another long sigh. “No, I couldn’t allow that. He’s far too important.” 

Smoothing his tie down his abdomen, Wonwoo sits down before looking up at you to find you staring at him as if he had just read you a complex piece of literature. Tilting his head, Wonwoo laughs and clicks his tongue against his teeth before leaning to pick up his phone. 

“I’m going to call Mingyu and set up that lunch. Do you want to go get your laptop so you can work from here for a bit? I can watch Jacob while you do.” 

Surprised by Wonwoo’s words, you look down at Jacob, who smiles at you, holding his sippy cup up at you before smacking it against the floor and laughing. That would be fine, right? You would just go outside, get the laptop, and do a couple of other things.

“Yeah? Yeah…sure okay. I’ll be right back. Jacob? Momma will be right back. Behave for Mr. Jeon.” 

God, what were you even saying? Giving one more look to Wonwoo, you watch him smile as he leans back in his chair. His eyes move to the toddler on his office floor, and his attention splits between him and the phone, allowing you to slip out the door. 

Wonwoo shakes his head, a chuckle on his lips, when Jacob babbles a few words before looking up at him and showing him the sippy cup. The phone was ringing, waiting for Kim Mingyu, his best friend and partner, to pick it up. 

“Yeah? You got your cup, little man?” 

Mingyu smirks a bit, pulling his phone from his ear at Wonwoo’s words, before narrowing his eyes and letting out an amused breath. 

“Since when do you call me little man? Do we need to hit the gym together again?” 

Wonwoo’s cheeks were burning but he knew that Mingyu was full of shit. He had just picked up at the wrong time. Laughing, he adjusts himself in his seat to follow Jacob as he shakily moves himself to his feet and walks towards his desk, babbling about momma. 

“No, shut the hel–shut up. Y/N said you wanted to set up lunch.” Distracted, Wonwoo leans to watch as Jacob moves around the desk, grabbing at his pants and offering him his sippy cup, trying to pull himself up into his lap. “I–momma will be right back. Do you need—? Hang on, Mingyu.” 

Confused, Mingyu just laughs, walking towards his office and offering a wink to his own assistant before closing the door behind him as he listens to Wonwoo. The sound of shuffling and then the same toddler he had thought he had heard in the background makes Mingyu stop in his tracks before he even reaches his desk. 

“Alright, as I was saying—" 

“Dude, do you have a kid right now?” 

Wonwoo smiles at Jacob, who smacks his sippy cup on Wonwoo’s desk before he sighs and nods to answer Mingyu before doing it out loud. 

“Yeah, it’s Y/N’s son. She’s getting her laptop so she can—” Realizing the details of that weren’t important, Wonwoo just sighs again and laughs, reaching up to smooth Jacob’s hair and trying to change the subject. "Lunch. When do you want to get lunch?” 

Dropping his briefcase on to his desk, Mingyu scoffs, trying to imagine his best friend with a baby but then hearing who’s baby it was makes it all make sense. 

“Ah, Y/N’s son. So is it “bring your hot assistant’s kid to work day” at your office?” 

Scowling at Mingyu’s words, Wonwoo looks towards the door, afraid you will overhear him. He had kept it professional with you as much as he could, but that didn’t mean that he had drunkenly mentioned his crush on you to Mingyu once or twice. And clearly, his best friend was an asshole who wasn’t going to let him live it down. 

“No, shut up. She was in a bind; someone should be coming to get him in a bit. Can we stay on track?” 

Mingyu purses his lips, sliding into his chair with a relaxed groan, a smile playing at his lips. He could get used to hearing Wonwoo flustered. Wonwoo might remember just a couple times talking about his “crush” on you, but Mingyu recalled multiple times of Wonwoo detailing his wish for a life with you. This was serious. 

"Yeah, sure. Make you a deal? We can get lunch tomorrow and go to our usual spot. I’ll pay as long as you ask the hot little milf out.” 

That was it—the last straw. Groaning in annoyance, Wonwoo pulls the phone from his ear and hits end, knowing it wouldn’t be the last time he talked to Mingyu today. The man was like an annoying little brother he could never get rid of. 

Balancing your laptop and a mug of coffee, you use the toe of your shoe to open Wonwoo’s door, only to stop in your tracks when you see Jacob sitting in his lap. A quick train of thoughts races through your head. One: Oh my god, what if Jacob spills something on his suit? Two: Oh my god, he looks so handsome with a kid in his lap, especially your kid. And three: just, oh my god. 

“I was gone too long. You didn’t have to pick him up. He’s clingy.” 

Now you were rambling. Moving into the room quickly, you place your laptop at the end of Wonwoo’s desk before letting him take the mug of coffee from you with an appreciative smile. 

“He’s just fine and you weren’t gone too long. You didn’t make yourself a cup of coffee?” 

Glancing at the laptop and the mug, you laugh just as Wonwoo does before he slides his cup towards you and Jacob lifts his cup towards Wonwoo’s mouth. 

“I can get another in a few minutes. Sit down and get settled for a few minutes. You’ve been running from the moment you woke up, it seems.” Glancing down at the toddler and the cup, Wonwoo laughs, taking it and pretending to drink from it before offering it back to Jacob, who giggles. “Thank you, buddy. See, I can share with him.” 

Sliding into the chair, you take a breath while watching him with Jacob. It seemed so natural and easy for him. You shouldn’t enjoy watching your boss with your son so much. Shaking your head, you clear your throat and open the laptop before bringing the mug to your lips and taking a sip of the coffee, letting it warm your throat and chest. The caffeine is a welcome hit to your system as you watch the device in front of you power up. 

“Mm, oh. My mom will be here in about less than an hour to get Jacob. Thank you for being so patient and kind about this.” 

Wonwoo nods, a smile on his lips as he looks over your pretty face. He could see you were tired and yet you always managed to look so put together at the office. He wished there was a way to help you out and let you get the rest you needed but yet he had a feeling that if he gave you time off, you’d just use it to do something else productive. 

“It’s really not a problem. I talked to Mingyu. Can you put a midday lunch on my schedule for tomorrow? Also, once things are up and running, could we go over what I have for the day?”

Wonwoo watches you switch into assistant mode, the mug back onto a coaster on his desk. You cross your legs, drawing his attention unknowingly to your thighs as your skirt hugs them perfectly. 

“Do you want to start with what you have first? I can already see things are going to overlap after lunch. We will need to reschedule your meeting with Mr. Hwon. I can do that easily; his assistant is easy to work with.” 

The hour passed too quickly for Wonwoo’s liking. Jacob had found his way back onto the floor, and you had given him some toys from his bag to play with as the two of you worked as if nothing was different. Wonwoo was beginning to enjoy having you in the same room as him instead of having to call for you either through the door or to send you a message. Besides, the view was much better than usual. 

When you make a sound of surprise looking at your phone, Wonwoo looks up from his computer again to watch you stand up and move around to collect Jacob’s things. Your mom must be outside. It almost made him sad to know things were going to go back to normal so quickly. Sighing softly, Wonwoo slides out of his chair and around his desk to offer his assistance, causing you to laugh and shake your head. 

“I–oh, Mr. Jeon. I’m okay. I will just run him downstairs and be right back up. Say bye bye to Mr. Jeon, Jacob.” 

Pouting, Jacob looks up at you and then at the tall man before babbling about his shoes. Wonwoo can’t help but smile, noticing one of the pieces of velcro had come undone, making it probably uncomfortable for the toddler. 

“Bye bye, Jacob. Here, let me fix it. Is that better?” 

You can feel your heart tightening once again as Wonwoo kneels down to adjust the velcro on Jacob’s shoe, making the little boy smile. Nodding, Jacob babbles bye bye a few times, moving to hug Wonwoo’s leg and Wonwoo can only close his eyes. It was his turn for his heart to feel heavy. He liked this kid. 

“Have fun with your grandmother.” 

“Nana…” 

“Ah, with your nana.” 

With your quick correction, Wonwoo laughs and ruffles Jacob’s hair before watching you pick him up and leave the room. He was in trouble. He wanted to see you like this again. Something more casual, and he wanted to see Jacob again. 

Outside, you lean into your mother’s car, adjusting the straps over Jacob’s chest and waist as he babbles about his cup and toys before finally landing on Jeon. Your mother’s brow lifts in curiosity as she tries to hide her smile, but fails when you meet her eyes and shake your head. 

“Stop it; don’t even start with me. He hears me say my boss's name all the time, and we were just upstairs. I told him to say bye bye to Mr. Jeon. He’s learning new words all the time.” 

Nodding, your mom leans in to press a kiss to your cheek before laughing against your warm skin. All she wanted was for you to be happy and you had been happier than you ever had in the past few months. Things seemed to be finding a normal pace but she still wanted you to find someone to settle down with, but all you ever seemed to do was work and talk about Mr. Jeon. 

“I didn’t say a thing, darling. We will see you after work. Have a good day. I love you.” 

Muttering that you love her back, you then turn to Jacob to tell him how much you love him and beg him to behave. It isn’t until he realizes that he is leaving you that he starts to pout and cry, making your heart hurt as you have to go back upstairs and work. 

Giving Wonwoo a courtesy knock on his office door, you slide back in, offering him a sad smile before moving to the laptop to start to collect your things. His eyes move over you curiously as he tilts his head. 

“You okay?” 

Nodding, you laugh softly, pulling your purse onto your shoulder as he stands watching you move so closely that it makes you feel like the room is smaller. 

“Oh yeah. It was just hard to see him crying after spending more time with him today. I’m fine, though. I’ll get to my desk and get back to work. Again, thanks for accommodating me today.” 

Wonwoo wanted to tell you that you didn’t have to go back to your desk but he knew that working from a corner of his wasn’t ideal. The chair you had been sitting in wasn’t good for your back and as much as he wanted to keep sneaking peeks at you, this was work. 

“Of course. Really wasn’t a big deal. Thank you for…you know. Being great at your job.” 

Furrowing your brows, you can’t help but laugh under your breath at Wonwoo’s wording. He was usually so well spoken, but that was a bit clumsy and almost as if he were flustered. Biting at your bottom lip a bit, you just smile and lower your head before leaving his office, letting Wonwoo catch his breath. 

Maybe it was getting a later start in your day or the fact that you were desperately trying to keep yourself busy so that you’d stop trying to sneak peeks at Wonwoo, but the end of the day came quickly. Sighing softly, you send one last text to your mom, letting her know you’d be on your way soon when Wonwoo’s voice pulls you out of your little world and back to reality. 

“Have a good evening, Y/N.” 

You smile at Wonwoo, whispering for him to do the same, when he bites at his lips, stopping and turning back towards you, pointing with his briefcase in your direction. The action makes you laugh and tilt your head. Had he forgotten to tell you something or had he forgotten something in his office? Glancing over your shoulder, you start to speak when he beats you to the punch. 

“Are you busy this Saturday evening?” 

Wonwoo watches you look from his office door and down to your desk. Your eyes were wide and you looked like you had seen a ghost. He hadn’t even said why he was curious but he knew you weren’t an idiot. 

“I–well…” 

Jacob…fuck. You have a kid. Wonwoo thought to himself, thinking he was such an idiot for even bringing it up without giving you much time to prep for his question. 

“Probably right? Stuff with Jacob?” 

You shake your head and Wonwoo’s head tilts curiously this time. No? That was different. To be fair, Wonwoo wasn’t sure what you really did on weekends. 

"Actually, he will be with his dad this weekend. He gets him once a week... Why are you asking?” 

Right, he would need to answer that question. Wonwoo could feel his palm go sweaty around the handle of his briefcase the moment you answered the question. Licking his lips, Wonwoo reaches up to scratch the back of his neck with his free hand, offering you a smile. 

“I wanted to see if maybe you wanted to get dinner and drinks. Especially if you have the night free." 

Your boss was asking you out. That wasn’t something your brain was making up, was it? Looking past Wonwoo to make sure no one else had heard him, you take note that at least no one was in ear range when you let out a nervous laugh. 

“I–is that appropriate? I mean…fuc–” Swallowing hard, you take a break to recenter yourself before meeting Wonwoo’s eyes to find him grinning at you. “You are my boss…” 

Wonwoo knew who he was and who you were. He already knew there were rumors about him dating you swirling around the office, so it wouldn’t be like he was doing something to shock anyone and there were no rules that said he couldn’t. 

“I don’t find it inappropriate. I mean, if you do, we can forget that I asked. I just didn’t want to miss out on this brief moment of bravery that I had and not ask you out.” 

His words cause your head to spin. He had to work up the courage to ask you out. Him? Be brave enough to ask you? In what world did any of that make sense? Smiling, you bite at your bottom lip as you fiddle with a few papers on your desk out of nerves before daring to look at Wonwoo again and shrugging. 

“I don’t really want to forget that you asked.” 

A small laugh escapes Wonwoo’s lips at your words. What did that mean? Did that mean yes? You’d go? Stepping towards your desk, Wonwoo watches you take in a breath. He finds himself wondering, if he touched your cheek, if it would be warm with how you were acting. 

“Does that mean you’ll go out with me?” 

When you nod, Wonwoo grins and looks down, reaching up to push his glasses up his nose and clearing his throat. He needed to keep his cool. It was just dinner and drinks. It wasn’t like he had asked you to marry him and you had said yes or something. He wasn’t some high schooler asking a girl to the prom. He was the CEO of a multimillion dollar company asking his incredibly attractive assistant out on a date, and she had said yes. 

“Great. I’ll see you in the morning, Y/N. Have a good evening.” 

You whisper out the same to Wonwoo, watching him jog down the steps before he gets to the door, leaving enough space between him and you that you feel like you can let out the breath you had been holding. It comes out with a small squeal as you lean forward on your desk, a smile on your lips, finding everything that had just happened to be unbelievable. 

Pulling into the parking lot next to the matte black Lamborghini, Wonwoo shakes his head at how ostentatious the car seems. Putting his own car into park, he sighs, hitting the lock button on his keyfob, noting that he didn’t have much he could really say. His own Mercedes wasn’t that much better, but at least he wasn’t driving a Lambo.  

When he had been in university, he and Mingyu had swore to one another that they would make it. At the time, they weren’t even sure what that meant. Earning business degrees and keeping their heads down for a few years had been the first step, but quickly they had both learned the ropes and now they were two of the most influential people in the business world. 

What had started as a pipe dream of two sleep deprived broke university students became a hard earned reality. Each was now the CEO of their own company, in charge of dozens of employees, and making 7 figure salaries a year. 

Wonwoo kept himself a bit more grounded than Mingyu, but he couldn’t blame the younger man for enjoying his wealth just a little here and there with things that he loved, like cars. Meanwhile, Wonwoo’s money was invested and while his car was nice, his true wealth could be seen in his choice of house and accessories. 

Walking into the restaurant, Wonwoo glances at the Roger Dubuis watch on his wrist, pursing his lips. He wasn’t late but he hated leaving the office, but mostly you, as the phones were persistent today. You had told him to go enjoy his lunch, despite him offering to take you along. 

“Mr. Kim said this was a leisure lunch, Mr. Jeon. You don’t need your assistant for that.” 

He wanted to punch Mingyu for telling you that. Couldn’t he play it off as a business lunch? He was the one who wanted him to ask you out in the first place. Sighing, Wonwoo simply offers a nod to the hostess, who directs him to Mingyu, already seated at their usual table. 

“You could at least look happy to see me…” 

Mingyu smirks as Wonwoo sits down across from him. Their chosen restaurant was familiar; not only did they visit often but being friends with the owner had it’s perks. 

“Just been a long morning. I am happy to see you. Has Junhui been out to the table yet?” 

Shaking his head, Mingyu shifts in his chair, studying Wonwoo. Something was on his mind and he wasn’t as open as some of their other friends when it came to sharing their feelings. 

“No, apparently he’s already making our food. We don’t get to pick.” 

Scoffing, Wonwoo scoots the useless menu away from him before leaning to pick up the glass of water meant for him and taking a long sip. 

“Sounds like Junhui. Whatever he serves us will be delicious anyway.” Clearing his throat, Wonwoo swipes his finger across a bead of condensation on his glass, looking down at it as he speaks. “Y/N told me this was a leisure lunch. You have something on your mind you want to talk about?” 

There it was. Mingyu knew Wonwoo would get around to the reason he looked like there was a stick up his ass eventually, and this time he didn’t even have to try. Pursing his lips, Mingyu tilts his head, scooting one of his legs out under the table as he sighs. In truth, there hadn’t been a reason for the lunch. He had just missed his friend and tried to make it a weekly occasion to meet for a meal but Wonwoo made it harder and harder every week. 

“Do I need to have something on my mind? Do you have something on yours?” Offering Wonwoo a smile when he receives a dirty look in return, Mingyu can’t help the chuckle that follows. “We should see if Junhui can whip something up for Y/N that you can take back to the office for her.” 

That wasn’t a horrible idea but Wonwoo’s only reaction is to lift his brows and sit down the glass of water in his hand. He hadn’t told Mingyu that he had asked you out yet. The silence becoming deafening Wonwoo is pleased to hear the familiar voice of Junhui drawing his and Mingyu’s attention. 

“The coconut chicken for Wonwoo and the huang men ji for Mingyu.” 

Food sat in front of him. Wonwoo grins at the bowl of food. It was simple but it smelled like comfort. Mingyu laughs while standing up to hug the man they had both known for the better part of a decade before Wonwoo does the same. 

“You didn’t come by last week. I thought you didn’t like my food anymore.” 

Wonwoo feels an instant pang of guilt at Junhui’s words. He knew it was his fault that he and Mingyu hadn’t come by. He had cancelled their lunch at the last minute because of business but Mingyu is quick to cover for him like always. 

“You know that’s not true. Just some work bullshit got in the way. He’d live out of this place if he could. Wonwoo would sit in your kitchen and let you make him ramyeon or sweet and spicy chicken.” 

Seeing Junhui smile the way he did after Mingyu spoke was truly a gift. Mingyu was always good at making people happy and being genuine. He was a bit of an ass sometimes but at the root of it all, he was a good person. 

“Well, I just hope you enjoy lunch today. I’d stay and chat more but you know how hectic lunch can be. Let one of the servers know if you need anything." 

Taking a breath into his words, Wonwoo stumbles on the first before finally meeting Junhui’s eyes, making the man stop in his tracks. 

“Actu–actually…Could you, you know, if you aren’t incredibly busy, make something for my assistant? I want to take her some lunch back to the office.”

Mingyu grins, looking down at his food, at how Wonwoo stumbles over his words and at how he has taken his advice. Maybe that wasn’t the only time he had taken it?

Junhui simply smiles and furrows his brows, trying to remember your name, before nodding. “For Y/N, right? No problem. I’ll have it ready before you all finish.” 

Nodding, Wonwoo looks down at his food, unwilling to meet Junhui’s or Mingyu’s eyes just yet. It isn’t until Mingyu clears his throat, shirting in his chair to pick up his chopsticks and then a piece of chicken that Wonwoo looks up, meeting his eyes. 

“Don’t say it.” 

Mingyu smirks, the chicken almost against his lips, before he shakes his head, pausing to speak before taking the first bite. 

“I didn’t say a thing.” 

Wonwoo groans, picking up his chopsticks and a piece of his chicken and eating it with more force than necessary. Mingyu didn’t have to say anything; he was saying it all with a look on his face. 

“The chicken isn’t going to fight back, Wonwoo. Why are you so defensive when Y/N is mentioned? By the way, you brought her up with time. I was going to wait until at least dessert.” 

He knew he was being ridiculous about you. He was almost 30 years old. There was no reason for Wonwoo to be acting like some teenager afraid of a crush but you made him feel that way. Especially when he considered everything about your life and how he wanted to make it better for you and Jacob. He had never even considered children until you showed up and started working for him. 

“I–I don’t know. She makes me nervous.” 

That much Mingyu knew. Everyone in a ten mile radius could see that. Taking another bite of his food, Mingyu licks his lips and lets out a breath, appreciating the taste before wiping his mouth with his napkin. 

“It’s not like she knows you like her. You won’t even ask her –” 

“I did ask her out.” 

The surprise is evident on Mingyu’s face as Wonwoo confesses to asking you out on a date. He is proud and impressed but also a sinking feeling of nervousness takes over him as he tries to read Wonwoo’s face before finally just biting the bullet and asking the question he needed the answer to. 

“And? What did she say?” 

Wonwoo tries to hide his smile but it only ends up making it harder to keep his lips from turning up at the corners. Glancing down at his food, he licks his lips and shrugs before meeting Mingyu’s eyes, narrowing his own as if the words might backfire on him. 

“She said yes.” 

Tossing his chopsticks to the table, Mingyu reaches over to smack Wonwoo’s arm harder than necessary, causing the slightly smaller man to grimace at the shock of the hit. 

“Fuck yeah, man. I knew she would. I mean, why wouldn’t she? What’s the plan?” Rambling, Mingyu suddenly thinks of your son and his eyes widen, cutting Wonwoo off before he can answer, “What about the kid? You aren’t taking him on the first date, right? Surely someone can keep him?” 

“Can I speak now?” Getting a nod from Mingyu, Wonwoo watches him pick up his chopsticks, going back to his food as he grins at the younger man fondly. Mingyu was always excitable, but Wonwoo couldn’t help but indulge him. 

“I haven’t decided on a place to have dinner yet but I have some options. I’m surprised she said yes. She was concerned because I’m her employer.” Swallowing hard, Wonwoo furrows his brows before shrugging and pushing around his rice. “She said Jacob will be with his dad this weekend so Saturday is a good time.” 

Sitting up straight like a puppy that had heard a new word, Mingyu tilts his head and blinks a few times at Wonwoo. That was the first time he had heard anything about your ex. I mean, it made sense. It took two to make a kid but he had just assumed the guy was completely out of the picture. 

“Dad? Do we have a name? How close are they?” 

Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo picks up a bite of his food, chewing it before even trying to answer Mingyu. He knew what he was trying to do and while he appreciated it. He didn’t need Seungcheol to do a background check on your ex. 

“Yes, Jacob’s father. I don’t know his name; I didn’t ask and she didn’t offer it. I have no idea how close they are but they share a child, Mingyu.” Sighing, Wonwoo meets Mingyu’s eyes, seeing the incredulous look in them, before adding, “But they are also not together so I can assume they are not terribly close.” 

Mingyu wasn’t thrilled with Wonwoo’s answer but he figured that if his friend changed his mind, he could do some digging in the meantime. He did have a point, if there was a good relationship there, you and your ex would be raising Jacob together in the same home. 

“Fine, I won’t call Cheol…yet. Let me know if you change your mind.” 

Shaking his head, Wonwoo picks up another bite of food, sighing heavily before laughing humorlessly into his words. 

“I can promise you, I will not change my mind.” 

The rest of lunch was as normal as possible. Beyond Mingyu offering date options and letting Wonwoo borrow his car for the date, it was back to their normal topics of conversation before Junhui joined them for the last part of the meal. Desserts were served and a takeaway container sat beside Wonwoo. Junhui grinned at Wonwoo suspiciously before Mingyu filled him in on the “good news” about the upcoming date. 

“I’m happy for you, Wonwoo. You need to date more often. It’s been months since you’ve even tried. All I’ve even heard about is Y/N since she started working for you and no one comes close to your standard of Y/N.” 

Rubbing the back of his neck, Wonwoo could only smile sheepishly. Junhui wasn’t wrong. You were not someone that most people could dream of living up to and no other woman came close. 

“I..I just want to see where it goes. I’m not going to force it. I know she will have Jacob on her mind.”

Junhui nods, his fingers running over the tablecloth under them as he listens to his friend talk. He could tell how important this was to Wonwoo and he wanted it to work for his sake. 

“Then just tell her how you feel and what you want. It seems to work out in books and movies.” 

Laughing, Mingyu just shrugs when Junhui shoots him a look. It wasn’t that he was wrong but it was the fact that he was sourcing books and movies as his knowledge bank. Wonwoo just smiles fondly at his friend and nods before leaning back to sigh into a groan. He needed to go back to work now. He wanted to see you and give you lunch but already the butterflies were fighting for space in his stomach. 

“Thanks, both of you, and Junhui, for the food. Ours and Y/N’s.” 

Mingyu echoes Wonwoo’s words before hugs are exchanged, along with more well wishes. Wonwoo finds himself wondering when they had gotten to the age where this was the topic of lunch conversation and not the next kegger. Either way, he didn’t mind as he held your food in his hands, heading for his car, willing the butterflies to calm down. 

Watching Wonwoo as he raised the spoon of cereal to his mouth, Mingyu smirked and shook his head. It was the fourth jacket his friend had put on and taken off before even waiting for his opinion. That had been his entire purpose for being here—well, and to raid Wonwoo’s pantry but mostly emotional support. 

Wonwoo had been stressed out over this date the entire week. You had noticed his being a bit more awkward than normal, including offering you the food after his lunch with Mingyu by clearing his throat and all but dropping the box into your hands. 

He wasn’t trying to make this harder than it needed to be but you were important. No other woman had made him feel like this. It wasn’t the fact that you had a kid; that didn’t even phase Wonwoo, even though he had many other friends who thought it was a red flag or a reason not to pursue you, no matter how attractive you were. He had quickly shut them down, reminding them to mind their business. 

“I–fuck. What about this one?” 

Mingyu wipes his lips with his thumb tilting his head, his eyes narrowing at the mirror in front of Wonwoo. The jacket looked suspiciously like one he had put on three jackets before and he remembered telling him it looked sharp. 

“Isn’t that the same one as before? Look at the tag. Did you buy out Dior? Do you own the entire collection in that pattern?” 

Scoffing, Wonwoo pulls on the lapels of the jacket before reaching up to adjust his glasses and sweep the curls of his brown hair from his forehead before he mutters under his breath. 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

Smiling, Mingyu shrugs, sitting the bowl aside so he can stand up and move towards Wonwoo, smacking his shoulder and sending the man forward a step. 

“I’m trying to get you to lighten up, man. You look good. You look classy. I know you wanna impress her but I don’t think you have to try so hard.” 

Wonwoo knew Mingyu was probably right but he didn’t want to ruin this and lose his chance with you. If he tried too hard, he might scare you off, but if he didn’t try hard enough, you might think he thought you were just every other woman. There was a fine line, and Wonwoo had to walk it like a tightline. 

“Yeah, maybe.” Swiping his phone from his dresser, Wonwoo checks his email, confirming his reservations and making Mingyu laugh once again. Hissing out an annoyed sound, Wonwoo pushes back his elbow into his friend’s ribs, hearing the taller man grunt before taking a step back and putting up his hands in submission. “I get that I don’t have to try so hard but I’m going to. She…deserves it.” 

The last of Wonwoo’s words are quieter, as if he says them too loudly, it might give too much away. He worked with you almost every single day and yet he hated having to say goodbye to you when 5 o’clock rolled around. Wonwoo felt like there was something else on the tip of his tongue as he watched you smile up at him and finish the last of your tasks as he glanced back at you, his briefcase in hand. 

Pursing his lips at Wonwoo’s words, Mingyu crosses his arms and studies the man. He was whipped and there was no other way of putting it. He had known he was falling for you about two weeks after Wonwoo hired you. He had listened to call after call about the wonderful new assistant that Wonwoo had found and how it all just seemed to work. Mingyu remembered thinking even then that that wasn’t how you spoke about your employees, no matter how wonderful they were. That was how you spoke about someone you were falling in love with. 

“Hey, I’m not saying shit, man. I support you, and I support this. You are as happy as I have seen you in a long time.” 

Taking a breath, Wonwoo slips his phone into his pocket and shakes his head at Mingyu’s words. He didn’t disagree with them per se; he just didn’t know how to feel about them or even what to say in response to them. Mingyu wasn’t wrong. He was happy and he was excited. For once, he felt like there was possibility. 

Smoothing your dress down at your sides, you slide into the chair at your vanity, already feeling your leg bouncing under the table. You could hear Jacob just behind you talking to his toy about his juice but your mind was still a blur. You couldn’t help but glance away at your own reflection in the mirror. 

This was the first time you had dressed up like this besides work dinners and even then, you didn’t dare try to be anything anyone would consider sexy or bordering on it. You were a mom. That was your first job—the most important job. 

“Momma, ‘ook!” 

Drawing your attention from your thoughts, Jacob’s excited words cause you to turn in your chair to look at him as he picks up the car in front of him, making something that sounds between a roar and an exhaust. 

“Wow, you are so cool. What is that, baby?” 

Looking down at his toy, Jacob giggles, pushing the wheels with his fingers, before smiling at you with a smile that melts your heart. 

“Car!” 

Nodding, you can’t help but laugh and clap, encouraging him before Jacob keeps repeating the word over and over again to show you he knew it for sure. You knew he was smart but speech had been a bit difficult for him in the beginning. You had a hard time not blaming yourself or the situation; stress, change—kids were so resilient and yet fragile. So when he started to pick up more and more words—full sentences—no matter how broken they were, you couldn’t help but feel your heart get fuller with pride. 

Watching Jacob for a moment longer, you rest your chin on your arm before letting out a soft, slow breath. You were excited and nervous for your date with Wonwoo but you always dreaded anything new. Just like you always dreaded any time you had apart from Jacob, you knew it was something you needed to get used to and it wasn’t like you didn’t want his dad to have a relationship with him. You were just attached. It was hard not to be when he was the most important person in your life. 

Finally, turning back to the mirror, you get the courage to look into it, meeting your own reflection. You could tell you were tired. You knew you needed the break. Working a full time job and taking care of a toddler wasn’t easy. Reaching for your concealer, you dab a bit under your eyes, pursing your lips as you use a brush to blend it in with the rest of your makeup. You couldn’t get more sleep but at least you could attempt to hide how much sleep you hadn’t had. 

When the doorbell rang, Jacob squealed in excitement. Not even knowing who was at the door, your son was always excited to see anyway. You knew you needed to teach him more about stranger danger but there was something beautiful and whimsical about seeing a child so eager and loving to meet someone. 

His little feet hitting the carpet and then hardwood, Jacob calls for you as he reaches the door, only to smack at it, trying to figure out how to open it when he hears the voice on the other side. 

“Is that my buddy?” 

“Dadda! Dadda! Momma, dadda’s here!” 

You had been trying to watch the time but 4 o’clock had snuck up on you. Biting your lip, you struggle with your bracelet, hurrying towards the door to unlock it and usher Jacob back all while trying not to drop the delicate gold chain around your arm as your ex-husband moves into the house. 

Flinging his arms around his dad’s legs, Jacob giggles as he feels his fingers brush over his head. Your ex, Daniel, grins, muttering another hi to his son before finally giving you an appraising look and letting out a low whistle. 

Rolling your eyes, you feel your cheeks warm at his attention. There were no longer romantic feelings between the two of you but you were both lucky that a friendship had remained. It had been easier than anticipated after the divorce to be close for Jacob’s sake and to actually be there for one another when each of you needed it. 

Daniel laughs at your reaction, watching your fingers struggle with the bracelet before he reaches out to help with the tiny clasp, earning himself a small thank you. Shrugging, the man simply offers you another smile before leaning down to pick up Jacob with a groan, pretending that he hurt his back. 

“Don’t mention it. You, however, can. Are you eating all the vegetables? You are twice as big as last week!” 

Smiling fondly, you watch Jacob giggle as his dad kisses his cheeks, your son holding on to the man like an anchor. Stepping to the side, you allow him to move further into the house with Jacob as the boy babbles about his car, making your ex glance at you, noting the new word as you just smile and nod. 

“Car huh? Dadda has a cool car, you know. Momma doesn’t let me bring it to pick you up but I’ll show you when we get home. It’s not as cool as yours but it’s close.”

You roll your eyes again, letting out a scoff that cues Daniel to smirk at you. His eyes once again move over you before he lifts his brow, letting Jacob down to play as he watches you gather the last of his things, putting them into his bag. 

“It is a nice car. You used to like it when we’d go out on the town. Speaking of –” 

Looking up quickly, you watch Daniel lift his hands at the look on your face. Another laugh slips from his lips before you zip Jacob’s bag, offering it to him. 

“Your car is dumb, just like you. I–yes I’m going out. Do I look…you know?” 

Narrowing his eyes playfully at the comment about his car being dumb, Daniel lets it go instead, choosing to focus on what you had said next. Shaking his head, he takes a step back, giving you another once over before letting out a breath. He might be your ex-husband and your friend but he had eyes and there were very good reasons he had been attracted to you in the first place, besides your amazing wit. 

“You look hot. You said “going out?” Out as in…” 

Groaning, you narrow your eyes at the man as he smirks at you. He was worse than your girlfriends when it came to things like this. He was worse than your mother and that was saying something. You knew things with Daniel were good and that what had been there had ended long before the divorce had even been finalized, but there were times like this when you started to talk to him about a man you were going to go on a date with that you felt like you were talking to your husband again. 

“Just…out. With someone, a friend.” 

Not believing you, Daniel glances towards Jacob as he pretends to run the car over the couch cushion, making the same car noise he had for you. The sound brings a smile to his lips but it’s short lived as the attention is brought back to you. He wanted you to be happy. It wasn’t like he hadn’t dated or wasn’t currently dating. You should do the same, even if you have primary custody of Jacob. 

“A friend? A man? Y/N? Are you going on a date? Why are you so afraid to tell me?” Scoffing softly, Daniel leans against the kitchen counter next to him, studying you as you look down almost in shame before he reaches up to hold your shoulder as he talks. “Why in the hell would I be mad that you are trying to be happy? I’m not an asshole." 

Fighting the tears that were threatening to well up in your eyes, you shrug as Daniel leans down ever so slightly to meet your eyes fully. His smile is genuine as he watches you try to keep your composure. 

“Y/N, we have a cool ass kid. We didn’t work married but we work as friends. I’m not going to tell you that you can’t find a man who will love you like you deserve.” 

Closing your eyes, you laugh but the tears fall to your cheeks, causing Daniel to sigh apologetically. He reached up with his thumbs to delicately push them off your face, knowing that you had probably worked hard on your make up. 

“Don’t cry; I didn’t mean to do that.” 

“Momma cry! Don’t be sad, momma. I’m ‘ere. I love you.” 

Feeling Jacob trying to climb your legs causes your heart to tighten in your chest. Daniel laughs a bit, trying to calm him down, trying to tell him you are okay. Your son doesn’t listen, too concerned about you, until you reach down to pick him up, letting the little boy look at your face. His small hand moves over your face with less care than his father as he tries to help with your tears, before he leans in to kiss the corner of your lips and cheek. 

“You love a lot of people, Y/N. You teach him to love people fiercely so he loves you just as hard.” 

Daniel’s words make you smile as you lean your forehead to rest it against Jacob’s, whispering that you love him and that you are okay. Your son smiles, running his fingers over your cheek again, checking for more tears. He's happy when he can’t find any more. 

“Momma’s okay, bud. She’s gonna have a good night with a friend. Me and you are gonna stay up late and eat pancakes.” 

Jacob gasps at hearing his dad’s words, glancing back at him and babbling about pancakes, making you laugh, and letting him wiggle his way over to his arms. 

“Thanks, Daniel.” 

Shrugging, you watch him lean his head against Jacob’s, his eyes mirroring your sons and making your heart warm. 

“No problem. Text me later and let me know how the date goes. I’ll send you pictures of him later but I won’t bother you too much. Don’t wanna interrupt. I want you to have fun and actually enjoy a night out.” 

Agreeing to the text and promising to at least try to relax, you walk your ex-husband and son to the door, kissing Jacob’s forehead once more before watching the two of them leave, knowing it was going to be a long couple of days before he would be back with you. 

Checking his watch at 6:45, Wonwoo looks at the outside of your house before pulling into the driveway. He knew he was a little early but he had a habit of it. You couldn’t be late if you were early. It has always worked for him thus far. 

Taking a deep breath, Wonwoo straightens his chosen jacket of the night and takes the first step towards your front door. It wasn’t that long of a driveway but by the time he made it there, he felt like he had been walking for an hour, despite checking his watch to see that it was now only 6:47. He was letting his nerves get the best of him. 

Wonwoo could hear Mingyu’s voice echoing in his head even as he lifted his hand to the doorbell and waited for you, wondering if you would change your mind. Stay calm, man. Don’t try too hard. You look like you have a stick up your ass. Wonwoo did not, in fact, have a stick up his ass. He was just nervous. So fucking nervous. 

You had heard the vehicle pull into the driveway so you couldn’t really explain the dread that was in your stomach when you heard the doorbell ring. You knew it was Wonwoo and you were excited, but you were also terrified. You had spent an hour cleaning up everything he could possibly see from at least the front door and even if he were to come into the kitchen, but as you walked towards the door you let out a squeal when you see another toy, picking it up and putting it behind your back before pulling the door open. 

He smiled, his brows furrowing at the sound he had heard behind your closed door. Wonwoo can’t help but tilt his head in concern before he finally gets a good look at you and loses his resolve. You were stunning. He had seen you in business professional clothes and even a nicer dress for a work dinner but this... you looked amazing. 

“I–wow. Hey.” 

Your cheeks are burning, and you feel a bit confused as you hold the small toy behind your back, balancing your toes on the hardwood next to your other foot as you look at Wonwoo in your doorway. He looked amazing. He always did. He looked expensive, but you knew that he was. You weren’t a complete idiot. That was another reason that this was all making you so nervous. Your life was nothing compared to his. 

“Hi, I mean…  hello, Mr. Je–” 

“Oh…no please. Don’t call me that tonight. I told you at work, just Wonwoo. It would be so strange to hear you call me that on a date.” 

A date. Yeah, you were going on a date with your boss. Fuck, your stomach was churning. Swallowing hard, you offer Wonwoo a smile before looking down and stepping to the side to let him step in. The air was crisp and your heat was already kicking on. 

“Come in…  I need to get my jacket and, uh, shoes.” 

Smiling as he steps inside, Wonwoo glances around, thinking that your house was perfectly you but it lacked all the things that he had expected when it came to Jacob. He had expected toys to be lying around and perhaps shoes in the entryway. Things he had seen in his own childhood home growing up but it appeared you either kept an incredibly kept house, or you had cleaned up prior to his arrival. 

“I know I’m a bit early. Kinda sad I won’t see Jacob today.” 

Watching you back away from him, Wonwoo watches your hand slide from behind you to in front, making him grin when he sees the toy in it that you had been trying to hide from him. So you had just cleaned, and that made him feel a bit better. 

Nodding along with his words, you toss the toy into a basket before moving to slide your feet into your heels as Wonwoo watches you. His eyes are moving along your frame with interest before he stops at your face, listening to every word you have to say. 

“I’m sure he will stumble back into your life unceremoniously in the near future because my life is a mess. Uh, but his dad came and got him a few hours ago.” 

Wonwoo chuckles at your wording but he can’t help but enjoy the idea of Jacob and you both stumbling into his life. He didn’t mind it and he didn’t feel that he ever would. Glancing at the jacket on a hook near him as you start towards it. Wonwoo makes a sound, drawing your attention to him before he takes your jacket down and holds it open for you, surprising you. 

Carefully sliding your arms into your jacket, you step backwards, careful not to get too close to Wonwoo but no matter how much you try not to, you can still feel the warmth of his body close to yours as he situates the jacket on your shoulders. 

“Thanks…” 

With a small smile on his lips, Wonwoo takes a step back, letting you grab your purse and offering you a nod in response. To him, it hadn’t been anything special, just something he wanted to do, but to you, it had been the beginning of something special. 

“No problem. I have reservations for us at 8 o'clock; it’s a bit of a drive so I hope you won’t mind.” 

Wonwoo watches as you shake your head. You seemed shy and sweet. Not that you didn’t give off a similar vibe most days but today it was different. You were reserved and Wonwoo knew that it might take just a little bit of time and some conversation to get you past what you were holding on to about him being your boss. 

Walking you to his car, Wonwoo surprises you once again by joining you at the passenger's side door and pulling it open for you. It wasn’t that you hadn’t had men do chivalrous things for you in the past. It wasn’t even that Daniel hadn’t done similar things for you; it was the fact that it was Wonwoo. It was the fact that he was one of Forbes 30 under 30 and he was treating you like the most important person in the world at the moment. 

Sliding into the Mercedes, you let your fingers glide over the leather seat, enjoying the soft feeling before you reach for the seatbelt as Wonwoo closes the door and makes his way around to get in beside you. He was already enjoying having this extra time with you. Neither of you needed to say a thing but one look in your direction granted him a sweet smile that melted Wonwoo’s heart. 

He could see you glancing around the car as he drove. Your fingers are moving nervously in your lap on top of your purse. You were possibly more nervous than he was and that was saying something. Reaching out towards the radio, Wonwoo turns it on, letting it play quietly so perhaps that will help you feel less awkward before he lets out a sigh, smiling over at you. 

“You look beautiful tonight, Y/N. I’m really happy you accepted my invitation.” 

Your face was hot again. All you could do was look down and grin like an idiot at Wonwoo’s compliment. Lifting your hand, you swipe away a loose bit of hair from your cheek before glancing back over at him, whispering a thank you and clearing your throat to regain your composure. 

“Th-thank you. I was, well, you know, surprised you even asked me. Beyond the facts that I brought up at work...  I just assumed you would be seeing someone.” 

Furrowing his brows, Wonwoo tightens his grip on the steering wheel with his left hand, his right resting on the gearshift as he leans his head back against the headrest. 

“Like who?” 

You can’t help but let out an amused scoff at Wonwoo’s question. He actually sounded intrigued or maybe even confused, by your assumption. You could think of plenty of people better than you for him. 

“Well, any model you wanted for one. I believe Mr. Kim had one on his arm at the last dinner…” 

Trailing off, you look out the passenger’s side window as Wonwoo looks at you. He wasn’t Mingyu and he didn’t want a model; he wanted you. He wasn’t even sure Mingyu wanted a model; that date was for the press, but that was a fact that even you didn’t seem to pick up on. 

“He barely knew how to say her name and she spoke maybe three times to him that night. It was a publicity arrangement. I turn them down frequently because I am not interested in helping to boost anyone’s image, especially when I have someone I’m already interested in.”

Pressing your lips together, you can’t even dare yourself to look over at Wonwoo after hearing his words. He was interested in someone. You weren’t stupid and you weren’t going to play that card. He wouldn’t have said those words with you in the car if he hadn’t been talking about you. It was making you feel short of breath and your heart was beating like a drum in your chest. 

“Mingyu does it because he likes the playboy persona, even if its a lie. It looks good on paper and it’s fun for him. But, Y/N…please look at me." 

There is a slight whine in Wonwoo’s voice as he asks you to look at him. He knew you could hear him but he wanted to make sure you understood what he was going to say next. He knew that his lifestyle was different from yours in many ways but not as different as you might want to believe. 

Finally turning your gaze to his as Wonwoo slows down to a stop at a red light, you press your lips together, drawing his attention to them for a brief moment before he looks back into your eyes. He was entranced by you; he wanted nothing more than to see you happy and for this date to go well and so far he was afraid it was off to a rocky start because of your assumptions. 

“But I am not Mingyu and I am not a rich playboy. I’m just... me, and I like you.” 

Your lips parted slightly with a tiny breath and Wonwoo wants nothing more than to act on how he���s feeling. You look kissable. Your lips parted just slightly, a rosy color making them already look bitten but a honk from behind him made him smile and he pressed down on the gas, putting the car back in motion. 

“I didn’t mean to sound like I was accusing you of something, Wonwoo. It is very clear you aren't. You know a play–” You stop and laugh to yourself, not sure what you were even saying. Wonwoo made you so nervous. You hear him laugh, your eyes moving over his handsome face as his cheeks become fuller, his eyes almost catlike, letting you know the laugh is real. “I’m serious. I know you are a good person. I’m just not in your circle.” 

Wonwoo’s laugh and smile fade with your words. It wasn’t that he hated being wealthy or successful. That had been the plan, and he had worked hard for it. It was the fact that you felt less and unworthy of him because of his wealth and success when, in his eyes, you were far more wealthy. 

“You are. I don’t even know what that means. Do you mean part of my friend group? You can meet them if you want. You already know Mingyu.” 

Sighing, you smile and lean your head back against your headrest, looking over Wonwoo’s handsome face. He was perfect in every single way that you could think of. He was every girl’s dream and you couldn’t think of a single reason not to want this, yet every single alarm was going off in your head. 

“I do know Mr. Kim, but as kind as he is do you think the rest of your friends would be as enthused by meeting me? Your assistant, who is a single mother to a three year old?” 

His brows furrowing, Wonwoo grips the steering wheel tighter once again. He remembers a couple of his friends bringing up your occupation and a few others bringing up your status as a single mother. He didn’t care what those friends thought because the ones who really cared about him supported him and encouraged him, just like Mingyu had. 

“Y/N…” Wonwoo sighs out your name, glancing down at your hands, before looking back out at the road in front of him. He wished he was close enough to you to take your hand, to glide his thumb along yours and to explain this while having that contact with you. “You’ll meet them one day and they will fall in love with you so easily. It’s impossible not to.” 

The silence in the car was deafening. You didn’t know if he had meant those words the way they had come across but even Wonwoo seemed to realize what he had said as he tugged on the turtleneck that now seemed to be suffocating him as he drove. 

Smiling, you look out the window, opting to hum along with the radio for a moment before finally putting Wonwoo out of his misery by glancing over at him. It was clear he was stressed; this conversation wasn’t going exactly as planned but in truth, he wasn’t sure how he had planned it. 

“I’m sorry I’m being so difficult, Wonwoo. I’m not trying to push you away. I’m just…nervous.” You look down and away from Wonwoo as he glances from the road to you, listening to you speak. “I haven’t really dated much since I got divorced. It’s not exactly a conversation starter.” 

Divorced. Right. Wonwoo nods and licks his lips. Your ex was your ex-husband. Why hadn’t that dawned on him before? It didn’t change anything; it just meant he needed to figure out more about you and your life. 

“How long were you married?” 

You laugh, surprised that Wonwoo was going to literally use what you had said as a conversation starter. He was different, that was certain. Shrugging, you decided to just lay out all of your cards. The worst that could happen was losing your job and the date going poorly, so what else could go wrong?

“Four years. We got divorced about a year and a half ago.” Glancing at your phone, you look at the date and count in your head before nodding. “Two weeks ago.” 

Wonwoo does math in his head and lets out a breath with a long sigh. That was a longer time than he had anticipated and yet it was a short amount of time when you considered what he wanted from a marriage. 

“What is his name?” 

Picking at a string on your purse, you run your tongue along your lips, considering Wonwoo’s question before just answering it. 

“Kang Daniel, and he is Jacob’s father.” 

Grimacing at how you had answered his question, Wonwoo glances over at you and tilts his head. 

“I figured he was, Y/N. If you don’t want to talk about—" 

“It’s fine…  I’ve just had men assumed that perhaps that was why Daniel and I weren’t together anymore. I cheated and had Jacob. It’s not; we were happy with Jacob. We just weren’t happy together.” 

Wonwoo hated that people treated you that way; the thought had never even crossed his mind. He never assumed the separation had ever been your fault. He knew there were a million reasons marriages failed and for a great many of them, neither party was at fault. 

“I would never assume something about you. I would rather learn about you. You are a great mother." 

Smiling softly, you nod, the string between your fingers like a safety net as you whisper out your words just loudly enough for Wonwoo to hear. 

“Thank you. I try.” 

“It shows. Jacob is a great kid. You can tell he has a really good life.” 

You worked hard to make sure he did and you knew that Daniel tried to do the same. His life was different from yours and that had been part of the problem with your marriage. He was always gone, and when he was there, he was still gone in his head until it came to Jacob. 

“I do my best and I know Daniel does too. I have primary custody of Jacob. It’s just easier. I'm more stable.” You knew that Wonwoo didn’t ask for the details but he did say he wanted to learn. This was the most important part of your life, your son. If anything, he needed to learn about it. "Daniel travels for work often but sees Jacob once a week for two days. I’ll get him back Monday morning before work. It’s the hardest two days of my life, every single week.” 

Wonwoo watches your finger wrap a loose string around it and he wants to grab your hand again and offer you comfort. While its clear there is no animosity between you and your ex, your love for your son is even more evident. 

“I’m sure he misses you too.” 

You laugh and shrug, reaching into your purse to take out your phone to show Wonwoo the picture that Daniel had sent you of Jacob. The small boy's face was covered in bits of syrup, and a destroyed pancake was in front of him. The next picture shows the man and your son, both leaning against an older model Mustang as Jacob holds up a toy car. 

“He’s having a great time with his dadda. He needs that time with him. I’d never take that time away from him.” 

Smiling at the pictures, Wonwoo then smiles at you, in awe of you. It would be so easy to be the type of person to want to keep Jacob all to themselves and instead you wanted him to love and be loved. It said alot about you and who you were and it made him want you even more. 

Turning into the parking lot of a smaller restaurant, Wonwoo watches you perk up out of the corner of his eye as he pulls into a reserved space turning his car off. You look around curiously before finally turning to him as clearly this wasn’t what you had expected. 

“Hm? I promise it doesn’t look like much but it’s the best money can buy. I wanted something special for you.” 

Holding up his hand, you smile at Wonwoo as he tells you to wait for him when you go to reach the door. Rolling your eyes, you turn to watch him jog around the car and make it over to you, opening the door and offering you his hand. He was ridiculous but you were starting to enjoy it. 

Wonwoo waits with his fingers extended, slightly trembling out of nerves, until you slide your hand into his and step out of his car next to him, looking up into his eyes with your bright, sweet smile. Wrapping his hand around your fingers, Wonwoo keeps his touch loose but dares to brush his along the back of your hand as he gestures with his right towards the walkway. 

“There isn’t even a sign for this place, Wonwoo…” 

A small grin plays on Wonwoo’s lips at your hushed words. He nods and leans towards you, causing you to take in a sharp breath when you feel the warmth of his breath against your ear as he speaks in hushed tones as he whispers like it’s a secret and dozens of people are listening. 

“I know, it’s invite only. Like I said, special.” Standing up straight, Wonwoo moves your hand to his arm, resting his right hand over it for a moment as he takes in a breath of the crisp air and walks you to the front of the building. “It’s called Éblouissante.” 

Running your fingers over his jacket, you feel goosebumps spread along your skin at how soft the fabric is under your touch. It was expensive; he was just expensive and here you were feeling like you were cheapening his brand. 

Meanwhile, Wonwoo was thinking the furthest thing from what was on your mind. He felt like the luckiest man in the world with you on his arm. You were beautiful and he didn’t care how much your clothes cost or how much you spent on your accessories. All Wonwoo cared about was you, and you were worth more to him than anything money could buy. 

Smiling at the hostess, Wonwoo offers her his phone, letting her check his reservation code before she grins widely, welcoming him in. Her gaze then falls to you and you are surprised when it doesn’t change from how she had been looking at Wonwoo. She gives you just as much respect before offering to take your jackets and leading you to your table, of which there were only ten in the entire restaurant. 

“Oh my god, this place is wild. I swear that Yoon Jeonghan was sitting across the room.” 

You shake your head as you speak, making Wonwoo tilt his head before he leans up, looking for the man and grinning. You watch him wave before you see; in fact, Yoon Jeonghan does the same back to him. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me." 

“He’s not that important; he just thinks he is. His last movie sucked and he knows it.” 

Of course, he would know Yoon Jeonghan. Why wouldn’t Jeon Wonwoo know actors, multi-million dollar CEOs? Hell, he probably knew politicians by name as well. 

“I liked it…” 

Wonwoo grins at your words, crossing his leg over his knee as you look at your menu, noting the lack of prices attached to any of the listings. 

“You can let him know.” 

Jeonghan glances over your back before walking past you to lean down and hug Wonwoo with a chuckle. It had been too long since he had seen his friend. You watch, trying to keep your mouth closed, as two of the most handsome men you have ever met in your life talk as if they had known each other for the better part of their lives. Perhaps they had. 

“Fancy running into you here, Wonwoo. The last time I saw Gyu, he said you ditched because of work. Junhui was sad…tell me you’ve gone back to his place and eaten at least." 

Wonwoo sighs as Jeonghan reaches out to pat his cheek before laughing once again. Of course Mingyu had said something and of course he had missed someone else at that last lunch. 

“I have and in my defense, Mingyu didn’t tell me you were going to join us.” Glancing at you as you try not to intrude, instead you choose to look over the wine list, Wonwoo grins, letting out a soft breath and gesturing towards you. “Jeonghan, this is Y/N Y/L/N.” 

His eyes widening, Jeonghan mouths your first name towards Wonwoo, who gives him a look, only causing the actor to smirk. Turning his attention to you, Jeonghan gives you a dazzling smile, reaching his hand out for yours and saying your name sweetly. 

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. You are even more gorgeous than Wonwoo let on. My god…” 

With your fingers resting in his, you feel your face burning from Jeonghan’s words. You figured he would be a smooth talker given his career but then again, you had never dreamed in a million years that you would be talking to Jeonghan much less like this. 

“I–thank you? He’s spoken about me?” 

Jeonghan trails his thumb over your fingernails, assessing you as he nods, feeling Wonwoo’s eyes on him, knowing he is annoying the man. He knew exactly what he was doing and he wanted to rile him up because he wanted that fire inside of his friend to flame hotter when it came to you. He was tired of watching his friend pine and pine and never go for the gold. 

"Oh, often, and always good things, scouts honor. I’m so happy to see him finally taking you out, like he’s been wanting to. He’d be an idiot not to. I mean, seriously, Y/N…you are stunning.” Grinning at how you shy away from compliments, Jeonghan glances towards Wonwoo, who purses his lips, glancing to where your fingers barely hang on to the other man’s.

Jeonghan laughs, leaning down to press a kiss to your knuckles before letting you take your hand back completely. “If you aren’t 100% satisfied with your date, let me know. Think of me as quality assurance.” 

You scoff into a laugh at his blunt flirting in front of his friend as Wonwoo groans in annoyance. Jeonghan simply laughs, winking at you, before knocking his hip against Wonwoo’s arm as he grumbles about having his own date to get back to. 

“I do, and she’s a sweetheart but not really my type. However, she is my next co-star so I need to be nice and treat her to a meal. You two have the most wonderful evening, and remember what I said, Y/N.” 

Watching Jeonghan saunter away, you shake your head before looking back at Wonwoo, who pinches the bridge of his nose as if he’s getting a headache. You can’t help but pout towards him, feeling bad for your own actions. It wasn’t as if you had flirted back with his friend, but you hadn’t exactly told him to back off. 

“I–I’m sorry…” 

Glancing up at you, Wonwoo looks confused before he smiles at you, reaching out to take your fingers in his hand and shaking his head. 

“For what? Jeonghan? I should be sorry. I knew exactly how he’d act. He’s predictable. He was trying to get a rise out of me, and he got what he wanted. He made me jealous.” 

Wonwoo was jealous? Jealous of another man flirting with you? You can’t help but smile and bite at your bottom lip, looking down at your hand in Wonwoo’s grasp as he rubs your fingers before letting go of them in place of picking up his menu. 

“You don’t have to be jealous. I–well, I’m not interested in him. He’s handsome and funny but I don’t know him, and I don’t feel anything towards him.” 

A small smile threatens the corners of Wonwoo’s lips as he scans over the different wines. His eyes are glancing at you once again over his glasses, before he rubs his lips together and lifts his head to meet your eyes completely. 

“That is relieving. I’d hate to have to ruin his date.” 

Laughing softly, you shake your head at his dramatics before sighing towards your menu. You weren’t even sure what half of the words said. Making a face, you look back towards Wonwoo, whose eyes had never left you. It was clear you were struggling but he could only smile. 

“Could…okay. You seem to understand what this menu says. So could you pick something to drink and something to eat?” 

Nodding, Wonwoo uncrosses his legs in order to lean towards you, showing you his menu. 

“Have you eaten much today?” 

Shaking your head, you watch him furrow his brow out of concern before he simply nods and runs his finger over the menu, pointing out a few things. 

“We can stay simple. I don’t like this place because it is incredibly fancy, Y/N. I enjoy it because the food is out of this world. The wine is old and worth the price every time I take a sip. I wanted you to experience that.” 

Your cheeks once again flair up with warmth, a bit of tingling in your stomach as you simply nod and mutter an okay to his words as he walks you through his ideas for dinner. You were hungry and everything sounded amazing. 

“Have we made a decision on what we will be enjoying this evening?” 

The server's voice pulls you and Wonwoo out of your little bubble and causes Wonwoo to let out a soft sigh as he nods. 

“We have. Two glasses of Gevrey-Chambertin François Leclerc. We will share the half baguette while we wait for the rest of our food. For the lady, she will have the truffle and mushroom risotto, and I will have the Bouillabaisse.” 

You watch Wonwoo order with such ease, the words slipping off his tongue as if he had ordered food such as this a hundred times before, when you realize he probably has. The server smiles at the order and collects the menus, promising to be back as soon as possible. 

Wonwoo leans back in his chair, his eyes moving across your face and down to where your hands nervously mess with the end of your napkin, causing him to smile softly. You were anxious again. He was still trying to figure you out completely, and he had a feeling he would be doing that for a long time. 

“What’s on your mind?” 

Looking back up when he speaks, you smile, meeting Wonwoo’s eyes. Your fingers are still rubbing over the cloth napkin as you laugh softly and shake your head. You watch as he picks up his glass of water, taking a long sip and giving you time to collect your thoughts. He never rushed you; he just waited and listened. 

“Well, I’m thinking about a lot of things. About Jacob, about what he is doing and should be doing right now. It’s his bedtime but I doubt Daniel has put him down. He never does it on time.” 

Smiling, Wonwoo tilts his head a bit as you take in a breath and furrow your brows. You loved talking about Jacob; that was the easier point of conversation. Everything else was hard. 

"Uh, thinking about work. I’m thinking about how nice all of this is and how much it must cost.” Knowing you are starting to ramble, you laugh into your words, lifting your hand to brush your fingertips against your lips before finally giving in and being vulnerable. “I’m thinking about you and how much I am enjoying spending time with you and what that means.” 

Wonwoo had known there was something on your mind, perhaps a lot but hearing you say it out loud made him take a pause and take a deep breath. He understood your hesitation but all he ever wanted to do was put you at ease with all that he could. 

Leaning forward once again, Wonwoo rests his arm on the table as he looks at you in the candlelight. You were seamlessly beautiful without trying. Even though he knew you had tried tonight to hide the circles under your eyes, he could see them in the lighting and it didn’t matter. The thought makes Wonwoo smile, seeing you in what you were tonight or in just sweats on his couch, your hair messy, no makeup. 

“Let’s go one by one."

Watching you nod, Wonwoo sighs, only pausing long enough to watch the server drop off the wine and bread. He watches the man pour wine into your glass and then he nods at him and looks back at you, continuing. 

“You trust Daniel with Jacob so I’m sure he is just fine, but at any time you are with me, if you want to call and check on him, you are welcome to. I will never stop you from being a mother. That is the most important thing to you and therefore the most important thing to me, Y/N.” 

Swallowing hard, you feel the tension in your chest lessen. One fear you always had with any man was that he would feel jealous of your relationship with your son or try to change it. So hearing Wonwoo on a first date put that fear to rest made you take a sigh of relief. 

Picking up his wine, Wonwoo gestures towards you, urging you to do the same before he places his glass against his lips, taking a small sip while watching you do the same. He wanted to make sure you approved of his choice. Wonwoo watches your brows furrow, then rise. You pull the glass from your lips and smile, causing Wonwoo to do the same. 

“Good? It’s smooth; in this one, I can taste the strawberries and liquorice. It’s nice.” 

You laugh softly, only nodding to agree as you take another sip and enjoy the feel of the wine on your tongue. Wonwoo grins, thinking to himself how much he enjoys watching you enjoy something. It was something he could get used to. Picking up a piece of bread, Wonwoo puts a bit of butter on it, taking a bite of it with an approving sound before continuing what he had started. 

“Then you mentioned work.” He watches you nod as you reach for your own piece of the baguette to follow his lead. “There is nothing in the rules about my company that says anything about relationships in the company. I expect people to act like adults. That includes myself.” 

He wasn’t wrong; you had read your company policy book back to front after joining the company and recently, just to check on the rules about dating your boss, there had been nothing. Swallowing the bite in your mouth, you wipe your lips and take another sip of your wine before furrowing your brows and gesturing towards him. 

“People already talk about us, Wonwoo. Isn’t that going to be uncomfortable for you?”

“Is it uncomfortable for you?” 

With the question put back on you, Wonwoo watches as you take a breath, leaning back in your seat. 

“Slightly. I don’t want them to think that I slept my way into a position.” 

Smiling, Wonwoo attempts to keep the laugh from slipping between his lips but fails, causing you to gawk at him in disbelief. 

“I’m serious!” 

“So am I, Y/N. I couldn’t care less what they think about me. As long as they are happy in their position in my company, that is all that should matter to them. If they think so little of you, perhaps they aren’t happy in that position.” 

Your brows furrow once more at Wonwoo’s words and how much sense they make. You hadn’t considered that. It wasn’t as if you were making much more than anyone else on the second floor or the first for that matter. The salaries weren’t kept a secret, bonuses were given regularly, and promotions were announced publicly in the company. 

Gesturing to the wine and the table, Wonwoo shakes his head before looking back up at you with a small sigh. 

“As for this, how much does it cost? How much anything costs that I give you or treat you to doesn’t matter to me. I’m not saying that as a way of gloating.” He could already see the look in your eye and you weren’t impressed, but he wasn’t trying to impress you like that. “I’m simply saying that I am not concerned with how much dinner costs when time matters more to me. Enjoying delicious food and drinks long with it? That is just a bonus. We could do this in my living room, eating chips and drinking beer and I’d still be just as thrilled because I’m spending time with you.” 

You start to speak but Wonwoo holds up his finger, giving you an apologetic look. He wanted to hear what you had to say in response but he wasn’t finished just yet. 

“Money isn’t everything, and I can tell it’s something that is weighing on your mind. I’m not trying to use it to impress you. I wasn’t always living the way I do now, Y/N. Sometimes, it’s even too much for me. But I won’t apologize for wanting to treat you to nice things.” 

The last of his words takes your breath away. You bite at your lips before lifting your wine to take a larger sip of it as the server approaches your table once again, sitting your meals in front of you with a quick bon appétit before leaving you both once again to enjoy your food. 

“Wonwoo…” Meeting your eyes, Wonwoo smiles as you say his name, even though he can feel the apprehension behind it. You hadn’t meant to offend him or make him defend his success but that is what had happened in a way. “I’m sorry. I do appreciate this meal. I appreciate you wanting to treat me to nice things; I am just not used to it. It scares me a little.” 

That was understandable. Wonwoo could remember the first time money really started hitting his bank account and how terrifying it was to think it could all just vanish as quickly as it had appeared. He had been smart then and he was smart now. 

“I get that; I really do. I’ll do whatever I can to help you not be so scared. Try your risotto. It looks great.” 

Smiling, you let your shoulders relax when you realize he isn’t upset with you but instead he is still trying to make you feel okay about the situation. Dipping his spoon into his soup, Wonwoo watches you eat a bit of your food, your eyes closing as you take in the explosion of different flavors on your tongue. 

“Oh my god…” 

Wonwoo grins, eating a bit of the soup with a nod as you open your eyes to look at him as if he had given you the most special gift in the entire world with the first bite of food. Taking a second bite, you shake your head and allow Wonwoo to just enjoy you for a few moments before he sits back, sipping his wine, before swirling the red liquid in the glass, almost as if he’s lost in thought. 

“Before, the last thing you said that was on your mind was me. You said that you were thinking about me, how you are enjoying spending time with me, and what it means.” 

Clearing your throat, you reach for your water, taking a large drink of it before wiping your mouth clean with your napkin and nodding subtly to Wonwoo’s words. The man smiles, running his thumb along the bowl of his glass as he looks over your face before biting at his bottom lip and sighing. 

“What do you think it means, Y/N?” 

Why was he always turning this around on you? You could once again feel your face heating up. Now you were reaching for your wine as Wonwoo chuckled quietly, tipping his own wine back to his lips, savoring it on his tongue as you just let it hit your throat quickly. Only when it feels like the wine is down do you try to speak. 

“I’m not—I don’t know. I think it means that I like you. God, that sounds stupid, because I know I like you. I’ve liked you for... Jesus, ever.” You whine as you gesture towards Wonwoo, making him laugh nervously, his face heating up this time as well as his neck as he reaches up to pull at his turtleneck out of nerves. “How could anyone not? You are gorgeous and, well, you. You are so kind and treat Jacob so well. I couldn’t help but start to fall—I started to like you.” 

Glancing down, Wonwoo tries to play it cool and not smile like an idiot but fails. You were too cute, and the answer was too sweet. God, he liked you; he more than liked you. You were perfect. You watch Wonwoo’s nose scrunch in the most perfect way as he smiles and your heart melts as you feel yourself falling even harder for the man in front of you. Why did he have to be perfect? 

“For a long time huh?” You just nod and Wonwoo laughs nodding along with you reaching across the table to run his fingers along yours, letting you take his hand this time. “Me too. I think I started talking to Mingyu about you two weeks after I hired you. About how pretty you were and how my day had never felt so bright.” 

Whining, you look down at your half eaten risotto making Wonwoo laugh against as he pulls his fingers from your hand to reach for your chin tilting your head up so you will look at him. Your eyes were beautiful and just had to see them again, especially with that almost desperate love sick look in them as he ran his thumb along your jaw and you leaned into it. 

“I’m serious, you are so beautiful and I am so lucky to have found you. Not just as my assistant…like this. I’m sorry I was such an idiot and waited so long.” 

Reaching up to wrap your hand around his wrist you shake your head not knowing what to say. His words didn’t seem real, and you felt like if you tried to say anything you’d just make a fool of yourself, so luckily you were saved by the voice of the server. 

“How is everything? Would you like a dessert? How about a cocktail to end your evening?” 

Wonwoo sighs into a laugh, dropping his hand from your face. He wasn’t upset with the man but he had some timing. Looking back over to you, Wonwoo waits for your answer but as you look at the menus, a bit confused, he sighs and clicks his tongue against his teeth before pursing his lips in thought. 

“Sure, make tonight special. The moka French cheesecake, a parisian blonde, and a carajillo.”

Pleased with Wonwoo’s order, the server takes the menu’s back and leaves you alone once again, causing the silence to be deafening. You can’t help but smile as you take one last bite of your food and sigh, daring to look up and meet Wonwoo’s eyes as he looks at you intently. 

“You’re staring at me.”

Grinning, Wonwoo tips back the last of his wine. You were observant. He had been staring but he just couldn’t stop looking at you in the candlelight. 

“Sorry, you can’t see yourself in this light but it’s hard to look away.” 

Tsking, you try to ignore his flattering remarks, knowing you can’t look as good as he is trying to make you feel, though you appreciate his efforts. Rubbing your hands together in your lap, you swallow hard and glance around the room to the other tables, noticing Jeonghan getting up to leave. A quick two finger salute in your and Wonwoo’s direction makes you shake your head, before you nod at him and Wonwoo sighs while doing the same. 

“He’s encourageable, but he does mean well. I hope you’ll meet some of my other friends. They aren’t all like Jeonghan. Some of them are even likeable…” 

Smiling at his words, you pick up your wine, finishing off the last of it, savoring what you can before offering him a soft, amused laugh. 

“I like Mr. Kim. He’s very funny and not that hard on the eyes.” 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes and scoffs before pausing once again as the server returns with drinks and the largest slice of cheesecake that you have ever seen in your entire life. Leaning forward, he slides the cocktail towards you and pulls the smaller, simple, dark drink towards himself.   

“Just call him Mingyu. You seriously boost his ego too much. He isn’t even here, and I’m sure it’s inflating by proxy.” 

Running your fingers along the bottom of your glass, you laugh so sweetly that Wonwoo feels his chest tighten. He loves your laugh, especially when it sounds like that. It’s like bells on the best day of the year, marking every hour something good is happening. But every single thing that is good is you. 

“He’s my best friend but honestly, I have a tight friend group of about..." You watch Wonwoo do a quick count in his head as he narrows one eye closed before nodding. “Twelve guys. They each have their issues but they are all good people. You met Jeonghan tonight; despite his bullshit, he’s reliable.” 

Twelve close friends. God, you weren’t sure you had two people you could call close friends. Wonwoo was incredibly lucky. Shaking your head, you simply smile before taking a sip of your cocktail, making a surprised and happy sound to the taste of it before pulling back from it to look at Wonwoo, who grins. 

“I thought you’d like that one. It is one of my favorites when I’m in the mood for something sweeter and some rum.” 

Pointing to his drink, you take another sip before licking your lips. 

“What did you order?” 

Wonwoo lifts his drink, tilting it before taking a sip and nodding to the taste. It was simple but what he wanted for the night. 

“A carajillo. It’s liquor 43 and espresso. Simple but delicious.” 

Taking another sip, Wonwoo then sets the drink aside in place of picking up his spoon, cutting off the tip of the cheesecake, and turning it towards you. 

"The first bite is yours. It’s their signature dessert.” 

Pressing your lips together, you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol making your face feel warm or the idea of Wonwoo feeding you but you just smiled. Wonwoo’s lips curve up into a matching smile before he lifts the spoon upwards to entice you, causing you to finally give in and lean in, taking the dessert from his spoon as he watches. 

The entire act is more intimate than you intended, but you quickly feel that embarrassed feeling fade as the luxurious dessert starts to melt on your tongue and you reach up to cover your lips in shock. Wonwoo just grins at your reaction and cuts into the dessert, turning his spoon towards himself this time to take a bite. 

“Mm, I don’t admit this to many people but I usually order an entire cheesecake to take home when I eat here.” 

Laughing at Wonwoo’s confession, you put your hand over your chest, reaching for your own spoon to cut off another bite as you shake your head. It was like eating happiness from a plate and sharing it with Wonwoo, which somehow made it even better. 

“I don’t think anyone would blame you, least of all me. I don’t even know how much it costs, and I would still buy an entire one to take home.” 

Smiling around his spoon, Wonwoo lifts his hand to get the server's attention, who comes over promptly with a smile on his face. 

"Yes, sir, are you enjoying the dessert?” 

You look up midbite with a smile on your face, causing Wonwoo to laugh and nod. 

“Absolutely. Could we please get a full cheesecake to go? Also, give my compliments to the kitchen." 

Reaching into his pocket, Wonwoo watches the server start to say something he doesn’t like but the moment a business card is in his hand and the man reads it, he brightens and agrees, walking away. 

“You’re like magic. He was going to say no.” 

Shrugging, Wonwoo cuts off another bite, leaving the rest for you as he sips on his drink, enjoying watching you finish off the dessert. 

“They don’t sell the whole dessert. I’ve been told no before.” 

Furrowing your brows, you sit up, picking up the last of the cheesecake, tilting your head as you do. 

“But seeing Jeon Wonwoo, CEO of Jeon Infrastructures LLC, changes their mind." 

Turning your spoon towards Wonwoo this time causes the man to perk up. You watch Wonwoo lean forward, accepting the last of the dessert from you this time, before he smiles and nods, feeling a bit proud of himself. 

“Mm, usually. I don’t use it much but getting the dessert I want seems like a good enough reason to bring up that you are Forbes 30 under 30 blah blah bullshit.” 

You were falling for this man. Most people in his position would use his name for discounts and to get free things in designer stores, but no, Jeon Wonwoo used it to buy cheesecake. You loved that he didn’t take himself so seriously or the Forbes title. Leaning in your elbow on the table, you smile at Wonwoo, sincerely causing him to laugh, feeling shy at your attention. 

“What did I do?”

Shaking your head, you use the straw of your drink to take a sip before lifting your brows and sighing happily. 

“Exceeded my expectations.” 

With the cheesecake securely placed in the backseat floorboard, you watch Wonwoo grin at you from his driverside window before he opens the door and slides in beside you, starting the car. 

“Will the cheesecake make it?”   

Laughing, Wonwoo purses his lips and leans his head back against the headrest before nodding firmly. 

“She’ll make it. Couldn’t have something so precious sliding around the backseat or the trunk. Speaking of…” 

Furrowing your brows, you laugh when Wonwoo leans across the center console to reach over you, grabbing your seatbelt to click it into place. 

“Now everything precious in my car is secure.” 

“You are so full of shit, Jeon Wonwoo.” 

Meeting your eyes, Wonwoo glances down at your lips with a small chuckle before moving back into his seat. He wanted to kiss you but like this, in his car? That wasn’t the move. No matter how pretty you were, no matter how much he wanted it, he could wait. 

“Maybe, but it’s true.” 

You could tell he wanted to kiss you and you were almost sad when Wonwoo moved back from you. Your breath had hitched in your throat but at the same time, you felt relief when he hadn’t kissed you. You needed time to get your brain in the right place. Shaking your head, you reach up to brush your hair from your forehead and clear your throat into a small laugh as Wonwoo drives back in the direction of your house. 

“Such a smooth talker. Not as smooth as Jeonghan, but pretty smooth.” 

A gasp of faux shock leaves Wonwoo’s mouth, causing you to laugh as he reaches over from the gearshift to slide his fingers along your wrist and into your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. 

“I’m appalled.” 

Glancing down at your hand and Wonwoo's, you feel the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around to the point where you feel queasy. You can’t help but smile like a girl falling in love for the first time as you bite at your lip and shake your head, trying to regain your composure. 

"Oh, I’m sure you are. Entirely appalled and disgusted.” 

Wonwoo grins, his thumb gliding along yours as his hand rests on your lap. He feels the fingers of your other hand tracing the back of his hand and Wonwoo thinks he has died and gone to heaven over such a simple action. 

“I am, completely.” 

You just smile, looking down at Wonwoo’s hand as you trace each of his fingers, watching as he extends them to let you do so. Your head is tilting as you marvel at how pretty his hand is and how much you are enjoying his attention. You had almost forgotten what you were talking about, so much so that you just hummed out a sound to his words, making Wonwoo glance at you and smile as you lean your head back on the headrest and close your eyes. 

“Take a nap; it’s a long drive.” 

Wonwoo watches you shake your head no, muttering something about keeping him company but as soon as he starts to tell you it’s okay, he’s smiling at your soft breath, knowing you lost your own fight. 

Sliding his hand from yours, Wonwoo reaches up to brush his fingers over your cheek before keeping his hands on the wheel, unwilling to let anything happen to the most precious thing in the car while he was driving. 

When you feel the car come to a stop and hear Wonwoo’s deep but soft voice say your name, you furrow your brows, instantly realizing what had happened. Opening your eyes slowly, you frown, seeing the front of your house, before looking over to a smiling Wonwoo who chuckles at your cute frown. 

“You let me sleep.” 

Wonwoo nods, reaching to brush his thumb across your cheek as you whine his name, feeling frustrated with yourself. 

“Of course I did. You had drinks and I know you don’t sleep enough. You weren’t asleep for more than an hour. Come on, don't be upset.” 

You just pout at Wonwoo as you undo your seatbelt, causing the man to laugh once again. You were unbearably cute and all he wanted to do was take care of you. He wanted to take you inside and make love to you, let you curl up against him, and sleep the night away but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Not tonight. 

“Seriously, I’m happy you got some rest. Let me walk you to the door.” 

Watching Wonwoo slide from his seat, you are surprised to see him stop at the backseat, taking out the cheesecake, before he moves to your door to see you looking at him suspiciously. 

“I got it for you.” 

You wanted to hit him but you were afraid he would drop the probably incredibly expensive cheesecake and it was far too delicious for that. 

“Why? It’s your favorite.” 

Wonwoo hums in agreement, moving to the side so you can stand beside him and lead him towards your front door. 

“But you are my favorite and you liked it so much. Maybe I can enjoy a piece of it sometime soon.” 

Swallowing hard, you understand the underlying message of his words. Did he want to be invited inside? For cheesecake, were you the cheesecake? God, you were being ridiculous and reading far too much into this. 

Wonwoo can almost see the wheels turning in your head as he stands beside you on your porch. It was cold; you were already shivering and as much as he wanted to stay and talk to you and be with you for longer, he didn’t want you to catch a cold. You watch as he turns to set the bag down in a chair on your front porch before turning back to you with a smile. 

“I hope you had a good time." 

You tilt your head a bit like a confused puppy and Wonwoo can’t help but coo at you under his breath, taking a step towards you to not only block the wind but also run his hands along your arms over your coat. 

“Yeah, I did. Thank you. I would love to see you again.” 

That made Wonwoo smile brighter than you had seen all night. He knew he had done this right. Nodding, Wonwoo bites at his bottom lip, glancing at yours, before sighing your name and closing his eyes briefly before biting the bullet and speaking up. 

“May I kiss you?” 

He was asking? God, your head was spinning. You couldn’t remember the last date you went on, and at the end of the date, the man actually asked you before he kissed you. This was some romance novel shit and you were living for it. Nodding, you whimper out a yes as Wonwoo’s thumb brushes your jawline up to your ear. 

A small smile pulls at Wonwoo’s lips as he nods to let you know he heard you before he leans down to brush his lips against yours for the first time, listening to your whine into the kiss. You were so cute and the sound went straight to his head and his pants. 

Gripping your arms briefly to calm himself, Wonwoo then slides his hands down to yours, taking them into his own and linking his fingers with yours before deepening the kiss. He wanted more; he could taste the chocolate still on your tongue but mostly he could just taste you and that was intoxicating. You were better than he had even imagined. 

Leaning up to meet his kiss, you tighten your hands in Wonwoo's, digging your nails into the back of his hands when Wonwoo’s tongue glides along yours. This was one hell of a first kiss. He was making your knees feel weak, your stomach was doing flips, and all your body was doing was screaming his name. 

Pulling back from the kiss gently, Wonwoo nudges your nose with his as he smiles, feeling you chase him. He wanted to give you more. He wanted to give in and ask to come inside but he knew he shouldn’t. He didn’t want to be that guy. He didn’t want to give you that impression of him. So instead, he leans to kiss your cheek and then your jaw, listening to your whimper as he catches his breath, keeping his voice low. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” 

Holding the cheesecake in your arms, you rest your back against the door, listening to Wonwoo’s car drive out of your driveway and disappear down the road before you can make yourself move. Your lips still tingling, you close your eyes and stomp your feet like Jacob during one of his tantrums before walking towards the kitchen, putting the box into the fridge, and shutting it with more force than necessary. 

You weren’t mad at Wonwoo for leaving. You knew it was for the best. You weren’t that girl. You didn’t give yourself up the first day but for him...  God, you would have. After that kiss, you were uncomfortable and needy and all you wanted was to call him and tell him to come back and finish what he had started but instead you kicked your shoes off and fell on your bed, whispering Wonwoo’s name like a prayer. 

Leaning against your counter, you look at your phone, wondering if you were being silly or if you were being dramatic. It was just a phone call. He could say no. He could say yes. Which would be worse? Neither if you never called. 

Groaning to yourself, you hit Wonwoo’s name in your contacts list and put your phone to your ear, listening to its ring as you bite at your thumbnail. Finally, you hear his deep voice say your name on the other end. Instantly, you can’t help but smile and feel shy, just whispering back a hi. 

Wonwoo had wanted to call or text you all day but he didn’t want to see you desperate or crowd you. He felt like he had done enough of that the night before with his kiss but he couldn’t get you off his mind. Not that he wanted to. All he could remember was the taste of your lips and the feeling of you against his chest. So hearing you smile through the phone made Wonwoo feel giddy. 

“Hey, how are you? What are you up to?” 

You had called him; he shouldn’t have to lead the conversation but you were glad he was because the moment you heard him speak, you felt like a teenager trying to remember how to talk to a boy. Flexing your toes on the tile under your feet, you smile into your words, wrinkling your nose as you try to calm yourself down, knowing where you want this conversation to go. 

“I’m okay; how about you? And, uh, I’m just lazing around the house...  I wanted to see if you wanted to come over and watch a movie. Eat some of that cheesecake.” 

Wonwoo leans his head back on his couch and grins. He wasn’t even sure how he had been feeling a moment before you asked him over but now he was nothing but perfect. Laughing into his words, Wonwoo tries to hide the smirk in his voice but fails. 

“I’d love to. Anytime, or did you have something in mind?” 

God, why did he sound so sexy today? Maybe it was because you were letting yourself think about him that way. Whereas yesterday you were keeping it more professional and trying not to let yourself get ahead of the game, but now... there was a rasp to his voice. You could listen to him talk all day long. You could listen to him telling you what to do all nig–

“Y/N?” 

Fuck, you had started daydreaming and hadn’t answered out loud. Clearing your throat, you press your thighs together and let out a breath away from the phone before nodding. 

“Anytime is good.” 

Wonwoo could hear your voice shake, and it made him curious as to why that was happening. It caused something in his brain to fire off, his hand tightening into a fist over his knee as he smiles and looks down at the floor. 

“Then I’ll get ready and head over. I’ll see you soon, beautiful.”

Shit, holy shit. You just whine out an okay to finish the call when Wonwoo calls you beautiful as a pet name. You had gone far too long without being touched, and now you were acting like some touched, starved lunatic even after touching yourself last night. 

Smacking your hands against your thighs, you shake them out as if shaking out the anxiety and glance at the clock, trying to calculate how much time you would have before Wonwoo showed up, and you needed to be as normal as possible. 

Perhaps Wonwoo broke a few speeding laws in order to make the best time he could to get to your house, but he had figured out what that sound was in your voice. You had sounded needy, and now Wonwoo was fighting an internal battle with himself to keep it in his pants. That wasn’t why he was over at your house. He was here for cheesecake, a movie, and your company. 

Ringing your doorbell, Wonwoo is a bit shocked at the difference in time it takes for you to open the door compared to the day prior. Today, you still took his breath away. Your makeup was light; you looked a bit better rested, but your clothes were casual. He loved you like this. You looked perfect. 

He hadn’t dressed up either, opting for a simple black longsleeved shirt, jeans, and a jacket now discarded. You were still looking at him like he was dressed in a suit that cost more than your paycheck. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi…”

Things were awkward but it wasn’t because neither of you wanted to be there; instead, there was so much unspoken and undone. There was tension in the air and Wonwoo wasn’t sure how to ease it so instead he just laughed softly, leaning to press a gentle kiss to the corner of your lips. 

“You look pretty.” 

God, he had to stop saying things. Just stop speaking all together, or you are not going to make it. Giving him a pained smile, you just laugh, lifting your hand to your neck to rub it as you move into the kitchen, letting him follow you a bit confused. 

“Did I say something wrong?” 

Wonwoo watches you shake your head. His eyes follow you as you take the cheesecake out of the fridge and then a plate from your cabinet to put one slice on it. 

“Not even close.” 

Furrowing his brows, Wonwoo leans towards you over the island as you take out a spoon and finally glance up at him. 

“Then tell me what’s going on. I don’t wanna fuck this up.” 

Biting your lip, you sigh and lean your head back, making Wonwoo laugh softly as he watches you be dramatic. 

“I really like you, Wonwoo. Last night was perfect, and the kiss... I don’t know how to ask for any of this.” 

Tilting his head, Wonwoo smirks a bit when you shoot him a look, turning away to put away the rest of the cheesecake. He follows you, laughing once again, as you seem to almost run away from him with the cheesecake in hand, towards your living room, plopping down on the couch with a pout on your face. 

“Ask for this? I–Y/N…” Reaching out for the plate, Wonwoo sits it on the coffee table before sitting beside you, leaning towards you, and brushing his thumb along your neck, causing you to shiver at his touch. “You want me to kiss you again?” 

When you whine instead of answering, Wonwoo can’t help but coo at you like he did the night before. You were so cute when you couldn’t just speak. You weren’t used to this; you weren’t used to asking for what you wanted or getting what you wanted. Wonwoo was going to change that. 

“I’ll kiss you. Anytime you want. As much as you want.” 

With his lips hovering over yours, Wonwoo smiles when you lean forward, trying to make him keep to his word. You feel his thumb press to the side of your neck, gently keeping you back from him as he tsks softly. Wonwoo brushes his nose against yours and whispers your name as your lips part for him and he gives in by pressing his lips to yours softly. 

Wonwoo loved kissing you already. You were soft and tasted so good that he felt drunk off of you. It didn’t take much for him to want more. Your hands are pulling at his shirt, one tangled in the front and the other pulling him closer to his side. He wanted to push you down on your couch and climb on top of you, but he wanted to take it slow. This wasn’t why you had said you had invited him over. 

Pulling back slowly, Wonwoo gently pecks at your lips before smiling and sitting back, completely listening to you catch your breath. His eyes finally open, and Wonwoo feels his cock twitch already starting to get hard from just kissing you. You looked like a dream. Your lips were bitten and slightly swollen from his kiss. Your chest was rising and falling quickly from how excited you were. 

Wonwoo watches you start to calm down as he leans towards the coffee table to pick up the plate with your cheesecake, cutting off the tip of the dessert, waiting for you to open your eyes before he offers it to you. You can’t help but laugh as he does. 

“In my opinion, the first bite of any dessert is the best bite, and for cheesecake, there is no better bite than the tip of the triangle. You deserve the best.” 

Furrowing your brows, you lean forward, taking the dessert from him, only to smile at the now welcome and comforting taste. Wonwoo’s words make your chest feel tight and warm as he smiles at you, watching you enjoy the first bite as if it were him doing it instead. 

“So what movie are we watching?” 

Halfway through The Family Stone and the second slice of cheesecake, you find yourself wrapped in Wonwoo’s arms. Your legs pulled up onto the couch as he rested his feet on the coffee table once he knew it was okay to do so. 

This was your idea of a perfect evening and the perfect date, but you were still stealing glances at Wonwoo as he chuckled at the movie occasionally and reached up to brush his fingers against your cheek. He was so handsome it was hard not to watch him instead of the movie, and around the twentieth time you had done it, Wonwoo glanced down into your eyes and grins, grabbing your chin between his index finger and thumb before you could look away. 

“Not so fast.” 

He watches as you laugh, knowing you are caught. Wonwoo’s eyes look over your pretty face so close to his own before he leans in to press a kiss to your lips slowly and gently. There was no urgency behind his kiss but it still took your breath away. You couldn’t help but furrow your brows, feeling his tongue play with the idea of touching yours before he would just catch your bottom lip between his teeth and let go with a soft, happy breath. 

Sliding your hand along his chest, you find yourself whining when Wonwoo’s hand slides from your face to your neck and lowers to rest just above your chest. You can feel his thumb pressing against your collarbone, and you want nothing more than to feel his hands all over you. So you press your fingers into his chest and drag them downward over his stomach,feeling him suck in hard and smile against your lips. 

“Fuck—careful. Trying to be good.” 

Shaking your head, you grip his shirt and tug at it, feeling Wonwoo’s hand slide along your arm up to your wrist, keeping your hand in place as you nip at his lips this time. 

“Y/N, I want you too much. If you keep that up…” 

“Why do you think I’m doing it, Wonwoo? Touch me, you idiot.” 

Wonwoo laughs against your mouth as you insult him and then tug at his shirt, pulling your leg along his thigh and begging for him to touch you. God, how could he say no to that? You felt so good against him, and even your breaths sounded so pretty on his lips. 

“You want me to touch you? Here?” 

Sliding his hand from your chest to your shoulder and along your back, your whine furrows your brows as you all but growl annoyed against his lips. Wonwoo grins into the kiss, deepening it as his hand finally moves to your ass, gripping it tightly and earning himself a moan from you as he does. Your hand loosens on his shirt and goes back to scratching at his torso over his shirt until you find a bit of skin just above his jeans and slide your hand under his shirt over his abs, causing Wonwoo to groan your name. 

“Shit…baby.” 

Wonwoo hadn’t meant to call you a pet name, but your nails felt too good scratching his skin as your mouth moved to his neck. You just smile, enjoying it as his fingers dig into your pants under your ass before he presses his fingers between your legs, making you arch your chest towards him, your breath getting caught in your throat.

“This okay?” Wonwoo watches you nod, a soft yeah falling from your lips as he rubs at your pussy through your sweat pants and panties feeling your soft breasts press against his chest through your clothing. “You’re warm, baby. Wanna…God, I wanna —” 

He wasn’t sure he could finish the words but he didn’t have to as you whined his name and met his eyes. The need is evident in your gaze before the words ever leave your lips. 

“Take me to bed, Wonwoo. I need you.” 

He wasn’t even sure where your bedroom was but Wonwoo nodded and let you grab his hand, tugging him up from the couch and towards the hallway. His eyes only move from you once or twice to glance into rooms, noticing which one is Jacob’s before you pull him into your bedroom and drop his hand, letting him decide what to do next. 

Wonwoo just stares at you for a moment in awe. He was overwhelmed with what he could do and what he wanted to do. He had dreamed about this for longer than he was willing to admit. He had pictured laying you on the bed and having you moan his name, and now you were standing in front of him, wanting him to fuck you. 

Stepping forward, Wonwoo shakes his head as he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you back into his arms so he can lean down and kiss you deeply once more. He knew he would never get tired of the feeling of your lips against his or the way you melted into his arms as he did it. Your panting moans against his lips are the only reason he pulls back and works his finger tips under your shirt as he walks with you back towards the bed, letting you sit on it as he smiles down at you. 

“I’m so fucking lucky... before we go any further. Baby…I didn’t come over here to plan this. Do you have a condom for me?” 

As you shake your head, Wonwoo feels a bit of disappointment rush through him, but he just nods. There was still plenty he could do. He simply smiles and leans down to press a kiss to your jaw as he lays you back on the bed, dragging your shirt up to your chest over your breasts. 

“That’s okay. I can just take care of you.” 

You shake your head again, lifting your leg to rub along the outside of his thigh before doing the same between his legs, carefully listening to him groan quietly against your stomach as he presses kisses on your skin. 

“No, I have an IUD. I haven’t been with anyone in over a year. Wonwoo…I want you.” 

Burying his face against your breasts, your bra soft against his cheek, Wonwoo groans at your words before glancing up at you with a nod. You were trusting him with something important and he wasn’t going to fuck that up. 

“It’s been over 6 months for me, but I get tested. I am clean…baby if this is what you want, I’m…yeah, I want you too.” 

Arching off the bed, you roll your hips towards Wonwoo’s to answer his question, making him groan into a laugh as you do. 

“Okay…yeah. I got you.”

Wonwoo’s hands find the end of your shirt as you lift your arms, letting him drag it up and over your head. His eyes move over your upper body as if he were looking at a piece of fine art. You can’t help but smile, feeling your cheeks burning at his attention when Wonwoo grins down at you, the back of his right hand running between your breasts as his left moves behind you, working the clasp open. 

He was intoxicated without taking a sip of alcohol and it was all because of you. Wonwoo could picture himself dreaming about this moment every night. He could envision waking up next to you and burying his face against your neck and his fingers between your legs, listening to your moans. 

“Wonwoo…” 

There was that needy sound in your voice once again. It was making Wonwoo painfully hard; he could feel how much he was leaking in his boxers. It was driving him insane how much he wanted to be inside of you. Each one of your moans drives him a little bit more insane with lust. 

“Baby, you’re killing me…” 

You could feel Wonwoo’s cock pressed against his jeans as you rubbed your leg against him. You wanted him out of his clothes and you wanted him to get your clothes off of you. He was moving too slowly for your liking. 

“I might kill you if you don’t get inside of me.” 

Laughing, Wonwoo drags the straps of your bra down your arms as he shakes his head. He knew it was an empty threat and yet he knew he wouldn’t keep you waiting for long. Every time he glanced up at your face, your eyes were on him; your lips were either parted or you were biting on them. He was dying either way. 

Arching towards Wonwoo, you whimper as his breath fans across your chest. His hands slide along your sides until his thumbs press under your breasts, pushing them upwards. Wonwoo smiles as he looks up at you before pressing a kiss on the swell of each of your breasts. He was enjoying watching you fall apart. He was enjoying watching your mind melt as all coherent words fade away into nothing but Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo...

“You are so beautiful. Please don’t make me rush, baby. Not this time…” 

This time. The words make you laugh into a moan as Wonwoo’s lips wrap around your right nipple, his thumb and forefinger lightly massaging your left. This time, you think again. He wanted another time. How many times did he want? You wanted forever with how he was making you feel. 

Wonwoo smiles upon hearing you moan his name, his eyes moving back up at your face as he rests his teeth against your nipple, just barely applying any pressure. He watches as you push your head back into the pillow, your hand reaching up for the headboard, only for your nails to scratch at the fabric lightly. Wonwoo groans against your skin as you roll your body like a wave towards him, enticing him to move further and give you more. 

“Don’t rush me…” 

His voice is a whisper between kisses as Wonwoo works his lips across your breasts and up your chest to your throat as his fingers slide towards your sweatpants. You weren’t trying to, not consciously, but your body was begging him to hurry. He could feel the goosebumps spreading along your skin at his touch. He could feel the hitching of your breath in your throat under his lips as his fingers slipped under the top of your pants and over your panties between your legs. 

“Mm… Won—Wonwoo…” 

All that need and desire. Wonwoo hisses as you moan his name again. His teeth scratch against your neck as his middle finger presses to the center of your slit, feeling your warmth and how you were soaking through the lace covering you. 

“I’m here. Let me tell you what I’m gonna do, mm—okay?” 

You nod and let out a loud breath as Wonwoo’s teeth catch your ear, only for him to breathe against your ear and then laugh at your reaction. It wasn’t a cruel laugh, but instead, you could tell that he was overwhelmed with his own desire. He was fighting every instinct to fuck you into the mattress without ceremony. He knew you deserved better. 

“I’m going to finish undressing you and myself.” Wonwoo smiles as you grab at his shirt, making a happy sound. “Then I’m going to taste you; use my fingers to prep you for my cock…” 

Furrowing your brows, you whine to Wonwoo’s words, looking up at him as he leans back, opening his eyes. You could feel him through his jeans as he laid against your hip on the bed. He was big, perhaps bigger than any man you had been with before. Hearing his words while his finger pushed your panties to the side and you felt his skin slide between your wet folds caused you to say his name with even more lust laced in your voice. 

He had told you what was coming next and yet when Wonwoo slid his hand from your pants you still wanted to cry. You could hear the soft coo in his voice as he tried to keep you calm. 

“Shh… I’m not leaving you. Told you what I was doing, didn’t I?” 

You nod as you watch Wonwoo take off his glasses and lean to put them on your nightstand. He looked good either way you instantly think to yourself but there was something mildly dangerous about Wonwoo without his glasses. A smirk forms on the man’s lips as you watch him drag his shirt over his head. He can feel your fingers in the loops of his jeans as an anchor to keep him tethered to you, forcing him to keep his promises. 

You had begun to play with the button, keeping his pants closed but you weren’t sure if you should. You didn’t know if Wonwoo would be okay with you undoing it but one low chuckle that went straight to your core, causing a new rush of arousal, told you otherwise.

Glancing down at your fingers as you circle the button, Wonwoo bites his bottom lip before looking up at you. Your fingers were delicate compared to his. There was something about that that was causing his brain to misfire and picture the dirtiest things but he would never tell you not to undo his pants, especially as he had already been undressing you. 

“Go ahead, baby. I’m yours…” 

Wonwoo’s words make you look up at him in surprise. He just smiles at you as you rest your fingertips on the top of his jeans before you let out a breath and mutter something under your breath. Wonwoo feels pressure release as you unzip his jeans; a bit more space is given for his hard cock but he can’t help but tilt his head and reach down to your face, titling it back towards him out of curiosity. 

“What did you say? You were so quiet.” 

Your cheeks were already burning from his attention but when Wonwoo wants you to repeat what you had barely whispered above a breath, you all but whine in protest, causing him to laugh. Shaking his head, Wonwoo slides back from you to kick off his jeans before reaching for the top of your sweatpants, beginning to drag them down as he looks into your eyes and asks again. 

“What did you say, sweetheart?” 

Closing your eyes, you swallow hard at the pet name and the feeling of Wonwoo’s knuckles running along the length of your legs as he pulls your pants from your body completely. 

“I–just…that I want to be yours too. If–” Your words get caught in your throat as Wonwoo kisses your inner thigh, his fingers wrapped in the sides of your panties pulling them down just like your pants, before he groans for you to go on. “Wonwoo! I can’t talk like this when you are kissing my thighs.” 

Chuckling once again, Wonwoo opens his eyes as he leans back to lift your legs, pulling lace from your feet, and drop your panties onto the floor onto a growing pile of clothes. He keeps your legs closed on purpose as he looks over your body up to your face, lifting his brow in a daring look, allowing you to finish. 

This hadn’t been what you had wanted. You hadn’t wanted him to stop. You wiggle in Wonwoo’s grasp, his hand holding your ankles as his free hand runs along the back of your thigh. You could see the patience in his eyes and it was frustrating. 

“Wonwoo…” 

“Finish what you were saying.” 

Damn him. Pressing your head back against the pillow, you scratch at the comforter under you, listening to Wonwoo smile into a breath as you do. 

“If you are mine, then I want to be yours.” 

Wonwoo knew what you were going to say. At least he had a good idea of where you were going with your words but he had to hear them. It was all that he wanted—for you to be his…completely. 

“Then you’re mine.” 

You feel Wonwoo’s fingers let go of your ankles in place of lifting your left leg and placing it on the bed. A soft whimpering moan slips from your lips when you feel the way your folds pull apart between your legs as Wonwoo pushes your legs up, giving him room to lay between them. 

Licking his thumb first, Wonwoo then presses it between your wet lips, barely putting any pressure on your clit to watch your reaction. The way that you hold to the bed, rolling your hips towards his hand, Wonwoo can only smile as he leans to press a soft kiss to your thigh. 

With a brush of his knuckles, Wonwoo teases his fingers down to your leaking opening while leaning forward to press a kiss to the top of your mound. The center of your legs is warm and inviting and Wonwoo thinks to himself how he could be here for hours if you’d let him. He could picture himself listening to your whimpers as he ran his tongue along your soft folds, avoiding your clit as he slowly rutted his hips against your bed for some bit of relief. 

“Shit, baby… You taste good.” 

Wonwoo couldn’t help but lick his lips, already tasting the arousal you were leaking that was running along his fingers from just teasing you. He needed more and he was getting greedy. Slipping the first finger into you, Wonwoo groans when your soft walls not only welcome him in but they also tighten and quiver. 

He can’t help but breathe hot breath against your pussy as he slides in closer to you, getting addicted to the feeling of the warm velvety walls around his finger and thinking how good it will feel around his cock. Groaning your name, Wonwoo circles his finger inside of you and curls it back towards him before adding a second. 

Your reaction is like bliss for Wonwoo and he can’t stand it anymore. You arch your back, feeling his tongue run flat from the base of his fingers over your clit and back. It’s messy between the way you are leaking from each pump of Wonwoo’s fingers and how he groans, pulling back from your folds with spit covering you and his mouth. 

“You’re so tight.” 

You aren’t even sure if Wonwoo is actually speaking to you or if he is just saying the statement out into the room as he leans back in to pull at your folds with his lips. You could feel how tightly you were closing in around his fingers but you were going to cum and there was no way you could stop it. Whimpering his name, you lift your hips only for Wonwoo to push them back down his mouth, finding your clit when your whisper becomes a sound from your chest as you orgasm hard around his fingers for the first time. 

Wonwoo smiles, feeling you cum, his tongue teasing your clit until you reach between your legs to tug at his hair, making him chuckle against your pussy. It was bad enough his fingers were still inside you, fucking your cum back into you lazily. You couldn’t stand his skillful tongue abusing your tender clit anymore, not right now. 

With one last kiss to your thigh, Wonwoo groans, slipping his fingers from your pussy. His eyes move from your now swollen folds to his fingers before he glances up at you and sucks them clean with a groan to your taste. When you smile and lift your hand to cover your face, you hear Wonwoo laugh. You feel his knee rest between your legs and his clean hand pulls your hand from where you were trying to hide. 

“What’s that about?” 

Looking up at him, you watch as he once again sucks his fingers clean before leaning over you to press a kiss to your jaw as you sigh happily. 

“You’re lewd.” 

Wonwoo laughs surprised against your cheek, turning his face so he can look at you even so close. He shakes his head and rubs his thumb along your wrist, holding your arm to the bed as he hums out an amusing and thoughtful sound. 

“Am I? I don’t think I’ve ever heard that word said aloud, first of all, and secondly, I’ve certainly never been called it before. All of this because I was cleaning my fingers.”

You smile, turning your head to the side so you can feel Wonwoo’s lips press against your throat. He was giving you time to come down from your first orgasm and you could appreciate that but you were already rubbing against his thigh and you wanted him out of his underwear. 

“You should find more sophisticated circles if you’ve never heard the world ‘lewd’ spoken aloud, Jeon Wonwoo. And it was...you–" You laugh, trying not to feel embarrassed by what you wanted to say and the action you wanted to repeat but Wonwoo's chuckling against your ear caused you to rub your lips together. “It was my cum you were licking from your fingers.” 

Grinning, Wonwoo rolls his hips towards you so he can press his thigh up flush with your warm pussy. He could feel you trying to ride his thigh as he ran his fingers along your arm and his lips along your neck. There was something special about hearing you say something dirty, even if it made your face hot against his touch. 

“How lewd of you to say, Miss Y/L/N.” 

When you push playfully at Wonwoo, he laughs, sliding back and drawing your eyes with him. Any bit of playfulness that you had fades away as you watch him step off the bed and press his thumb into the top of his boxers. Instead, you swallow hard and fight over whether you should look away or just take in what is in front of you. 

Wonwoo watches your face start to turn when he is about to push his boxers over the top of his cock and he can’t help but smile at you. You were perfect and you were his. There was no reason for you to look away from what was yours. 

“Baby…” 

His voice drawing your eyes back to him, you hum out a soft yeah in question only to hear it die on your lips as Wonwoo pushes his boxers down for you and steps out of them. 

“You don’t have to be shy around me, okay?” 

You were fully looking at every inch of Wonwoo now and he was telling you not to be shy around him. Whining, you look up from his cock to Wonwoo’s eyes, causing the man to laugh at your reaction. Sliding back on to the bed, Wonwoo trails his hand along your stomach and to your hand, picking it up and guiding it to his hip. 

“Talk to me.” 

Shaking your head, your eyes fall to where he had placed your hand, noting that he hadn’t left you there by yourself. Instead, Wonwoo was dragging your fingers along his skin and somehow that made it more sensual. Your brain was cloudy with want, your mouth was watering, and now your eyes were back on his very well endowed cock that rested on your thigh as he let your fingers to it. 

“Big.” 

Well, Wonwoo thought to himself with a smile on his lips as you spoke one word. He had told you to speak to him and that was speaking. Shaking his head, Wonwoo chuckled a bit, lifting his brows as he wrapped your fingers and his around his shaft, causing himself to shiver and groan. 

“Boosting my ego?” 

Letting Wonwoo guide your hand over his head and collect some of his pre-cum making the glide smoother, you press your head back against the pillow, glancing from your hand up to Wonwoo’s face and back as he speaks. You weren’t necessarily trying to do that; you were just saying what was on your mind and that was that Wonwoo was big. You could already feel the stretch between your legs but it was all you wanted. 

“Wasn’t my intention? You don’t seem like the kind of man who looks for ego boosts.” 

Wonwoo grins; you were right. He didn’t need his ego boosted. He wasn’t like some of his other friends when it came to things like that. It was enough to see your delicate hand and fingers around his cock. This was what he had pictured when your fingers were on his pants earlier and he had given into his own dirty little desires. Now he was leaking pre-cum on to your thigh like an excited teenager, but he wasn’t going to apologize for that when you looked like a goddess spread out under him. 

“I’m not. I don’t need them, not when I can have you. I have a feeling that I’m not going to need much of anything if I have you in my life, Y/N.”

You suck on your bottom lip at Wonwoo’s words. Did he even know what he was saying or was it the lust going to his brain? Watching him pull your hand back from him, you almost pouted, but you could see it was getting harder for him to control himself. 

“Can I? I — I wanna be inside of you." 

Your head spinning with his words, you moan, feeling Wonwoo’s hand sliding along your thigh up to your hip as he asks to fuck you. You hadn’t expected him to ask. You were enjoying what he was asking. With your nails digging into his skin, you hold on to Wonwoo’s forearm as you nod, watching him smile in response. 

“Fuck…okay.” 

Wonwoo was quickly remembering that he had the privilege to be with you just the way he was. There was no need to get up and find a condom. No latex kept his cock from feeling those warm, smooth walls that had hugged his fingers before. Cursing under his breath, Wonwoo shakes his head to push the thoughts away for the moment, feeling his cock jerk against your thigh. If he thought too hard about it, he would cum before he got inside of you from the anticipation. 

You watch Wonwoo lay on his side, your brows furrowing, until he smiles at you and helps you do the same. Pulling your leg over his hip, Wonwoo reaches up to push your hair back over your cheek before glancing between your bodies to line himself up with you. 

The stretch, as you had anticipated, is intense but welcomed. Wonwoo is slow and steady, his hand moving to the back of your thigh once he knows he is nestled inside you deeply enough. He uses the movement of his hips and pulls you towards him to bury himself inside of you the rest of the way before staying still and listening to your breath as you adjust. 

Though there was nothing wrong with lying on your back and having a man on top of you, there was something special about laying this close to Wonwoo, feeling your body press up against his as he breathed against your lips. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you as he did everything he could not to start to beg you to let him move. 

Instead of using your words, you roll your hips towards Wonwoo, granting yourself a deep moan from his chest. Wonwoo smiles against your lips at the feeling of your soft, warm walls constricting around him as you slide over his cock, finally muttering on his lips to move. 

Simply nodding, Wonwoo digs his nails into the thickest part of your ass, pulling you back towards his hips so he can roll his hips towards you, burying himself deeply inside you once again. Both of you seeing stars, you moan his name before Wonwoo swallows it in a deep kiss, repeating the movement with his hips. He could already feel the pressure building in his stomach, his thighs tightening as his climax balanced on the edge of a cliff, threatening to barrel over. 

“More Wonwoo…please.” 

Hissing against your lips, Wonwoo listens to your whispered request, pressing his fingers into your skin. He wanted to go slow to keep you in this position but there was only so fast he could go like this and you wanted more. Groaning, Wonwoo rests his forehead against yours and nods. 

You gasp in surprise when Wonwoo puts you on your back, his body easily finding its way between your legs. With one hand holding yours, Wonwoo presses his lips to your throat, reaching between his legs to press his cock back into you while listening to your loud moan. 

He was deeper. The thrusts were more urgent and he was giving you what you wanted. You had asked for more and this was more. You could feel every inch of Wonwoo as he made sure to press his hips flush with yours and roll his hips upwards, listening to your cries of pleasure. You were close and he could feel it as your pussy clenched around him as you had around his fingers before. 

"Baby, oh my god. Are you gonna cum for me again?” 

Wonwoo feels you nod against the side of his face. He doesn’t pull his lips from your ear; instead, he just chuckles, a warm and soft feeling that makes you shiver uncontrollably under him as you fall over the edge. 

Just as quickly as he laughed, the sound faded from his lips to the feeling of you cumming on his cock. Pushing back from you to look down at your face, Wonwoo groans, seeing the way your lips parted in the perfect way before you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to silence yourself. Even then, he can hear you say his name as he quickens his thrust, burying himself so deeply inside of you that he hopes you won’t want or need anyone ever again. 

“Perfect, you’re perfect, Y/N. Shit… I’m gonna cum too. Where do —” 

Hearing his words, you try to process them as quickly as possible but your leg is quicker than your mouth as Wonwoo starts to pull out of you. Wrapping your leg around his back, you pull him back against you and Wonwoo groans into a laugh at your possessive nature until you roll your hips up and he’s a goner. 

The sound of Jeon Wonwoo cumming isn’t one you thought you would ever hear but it isn’t one you want to ever forget. His voice is deep and if you would ever admit it to him, it caused you to get wet even at work but his groans as he came were a bit higher and mixed with deep praises for how good you had made him feel. 

Collapsing onto you, Wonwoo groans against the crook of your neck, feeling your fingers through his sweaty, damp hair. He was still inside of you, though he could feel himself softening. He could feel the sticky combination of his cum and yours against his skin and between your thighs, and he knew that should make him feel gross, but instead he could only think about laying between your thighs to clean you up with his mouth.

Perhaps another day, he thought to himself with a smile before pushing back on his right hand to look down at you. You were a vision to behold. Sweat running down your temples, tears of pleasure still on your cheeks, and those bitten lips inviting him to kiss them. Wonwoo groans your name before giving in and kissing you softly, his thumb wiping away your tears gently. 

Taking a breath, you run your fingers along Wonwoo’s arm humming out a happy sound to his attention as you come down from your orgasm. You feel him finally slide from you, hearing his soft grunt and you can’t help but to pout at the empty feeling. 

Seeing your pout, Wonwoo grins, kissing your lips once again, wiping your other cheek and letting out a soft sigh before he bites at his lips in thought. He was trying to tell himself to chill but the more he looked at you the more he knew there was no way he could. He was in love with you. 

Your alarm clock made your brows furrow deeply. You could feel warmth against your back, an arm wrapped around your waist, and then the soft breath of Wonwoo against your neck that caused you to smile. The memory of the night before flooding back in and how it had all ended. 

You had asked him to stay the night despite knowing it was Monday the next day. You couldn’t bear the idea of him leaving you alone in that bed after he had held you in the shower and ran his fingers over your body, working your body wash over your skin as if he had done it hundreds of times. 

Reaching over to tap the stop button on your phone, you turn in Wonwoo’s arms to look at the still sleeping man, enjoying the moments to yourself. He was so handsome. You loved the shape of his mouth, the perfect sharpness of the bridge of his nose, and the way he scrunched it when you dared to touch it in his sleep. 

You would have stayed like this forever if it wasn’t for the sudden realization that it was Monday. Monday was the day Daniel would be bringing Jacob back. Jacob was coming back and Wonwoo was in your bed. Wonwoo was in your bed and he was naked. He was very, very naked. 

“Wonwoo!” 

Hearing your panicked voice, Wonwoo’s eyes flutter open in alarm, his hand grabbing your waist before he sits up, looking around for any signs of danger. Furrowing his brows when he realizes there is nothing, you watch Wonwoo blink a few times before he looks at you sitting up, a look of confusion on his face. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Jacob will be here soon.” 

Taking a deep breath, Wonwoo wonders if you are panicked because you don’t want Jacob to see him in your house or if it’s about your ex but you put all of his fears aside with your next words. 

“We are naked, Wonwoo…” 

You watch Wonwoo reach up to rub his neck, a laugh slipping from his lips as he nods in agreement. You were right; both you and him were naked. That wouldn’t be ideal for a toddler or an ex-husband to see. 

Sliding out of your bed, Wonwoo moves to pick up his clothes, sliding them back on as he sneaks a glance at you moving to your closet. He knew he would have to go by his house and change before coming into the office, but being the CEO of the company did have it’s perks…he could be late. 

You could feel Wonwoo’s eyes on you as you got dressed. Your cheeks were burning almost as badly as they had when he had been undressing you but you couldn’t help but smile at the feeling. You knew you could ask him to leave but for some reason, you couldn’t find the words or the will to do it. Instead, you wanted to make him coffee and offer him food. There was still time. 

"Uh, they will be here anytime. Do you want—want some coffee? I can make eggs.” 

Wonwoo smiles, sliding his glasses up his nose. You were still acting nervous around him. You had slept with your body pressed up against his all night long and yet you were still stumbling over your words. God, he was in love with you. He just couldn’t say it yet. He was terrified of scaring you away. 

Reaching out to catch your hand as you start to walk past him, Wonwoo pulls you back into his arms so he can lean down to press his lips against yours. He smiles to the happy sound you make, his fingers pressing against the small of your back as you give into the kiss and melt against him, wrapping your arm around his neck. 

“I’d love eggs and coffee. Do you want help —” 

The doorbell stops Wonwoo midsentence, his lips hovering over yours. He could feel his heart start to race in his chest. He had seen Jacob plenty of times but not in this house, and he found himself suddenly very intimidated by the idea of meeting your ex-husband. Putting on a brave face, Wonwoo smiles as you lean back, clearing your throat, to look up at him. 

“Told you…anytime.” 

Following behind you, keeping a safe distance, Wonwoo stops in the living room just out of sight, not sure if you want him to be seen as you move to the front door to open it. He can hear Jacob’s happy voice saying momma as you greet him. He can hear a man’s voice telling you good morning and your own voice saying the same. It sounds friendly but nothing raises any alarms with him. 

Small feet hit hardwood, and then carpet, as Jacob moves towards the living room for his toys, only to stop when he sees Wonwoo gasping up at the man in surprise. You hear the sound and make a face that Daniel can only raise a brow at. 

“Something wrong?” 

“No, uh, no. My—I have a friend…  Wonwoo is here. Jacob…Mr. Je–uh Wonwoo is here. 

Your voice trails off as you get confused on how to approach the situation, moving towards the living room, only to hear Daniel laugh at your struggle. Stopping, you shoot him a look and point in his direction, muttering for him to shut up. Watching the man put up his hands, he follows you, still holding Jacob’s bag, into the living room to see the taller man leaning against the couch. 

Jacob claps excitedly, moving back to his dad to pull open his bag, taking out the toy car, before turning towards Wonwoo to hold it up towards him, showing it off. 

“Car! ‘Ook! Car! Play with me!” 

Laughing, Wonwoo reaches down with a gentle hand to ruffle Jacob’s hair before squatting down to his level and looking at the car with the same excitement that Jacob had shown it to him. 

“That’s so cool. Is it your favorite?” 

Nodding, Jacob moves in closer to Wonwoo’s chest, making his car sound as you and Daniel watch for a moment. With a fond look on your face, Daniel can only smile and nod, clearing his throat softly, drawing your attention back to him while at the same time drawing Wonwoo’s. 

“We can look at it in just a second, okay, little man? Momma said something about eggs.”

“Eggies! Tots too peese!” 

Jacob giggles at his own request, moving to the couch and running his toy across it as Wonwoo stands back up, offering a friendly smile towards the other man. 

“Uh, hey. I’m Wonwoo.” 

Glancing towards you, Daniel raises his brow playfully before offering Wonwoo his hand to shake, reconizing the name. 

"Daniel, it's a pleasure to meet you. Thanks for treating Jacob like that. It's clear to see he likes you. I know he can be a little hyper, especially after a couple days with me.” 

Swallowing hard, you watch your ex-husband and your—what was he? Your boss, your friend, or your boyfriend? Your brain was going crazy now as you watched the two men laugh and shake hands like friends before they glanced at Jacob and then back to you. Wonwoo sighed softly and shook his head. 

“It’s no big deal at all. He’s a great kid, and I really enjoy being around him. You two clearly do a great job with him.” 

Reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, Wonwoo watches you stare at him for a moment before Daniel smirks at you and lifts Jacob’s bag, only to put it on a chair, breaking your concentration. 

“Thanks, Wonwoo. Well, I have to get going. Let me say bye to Jacob and I’ll be out of your hair so you two can get back to your morning.” 

Groaning, you catch the teasing in Daniel’s voice, which in turn makes Wonwoo catch it. His cheeks start to burn as he looks down with a chuckle. 

“No problem. Uh, Y/N…I’m gonna go see how your coffeemaker works.” 

You just nod at Wonwoo, letting him slide his fingers over yours as he passes by you, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Daniel even as he hugs Jacob and kisses the top of his head. Moving back around the couch, your ex-husband chuckles, leaning to poke at your arm before he glances into the kitchen, watching Wonwoo open cabinets like he lives there. 

“You little slu–” 

“If you finish that sentence...  I will knee you right in the dick, Kang Daniel.” 

You knew he was teasing and you were smiling but you couldn’t handle it right now. Not with Jacob so close and Wonwoo in just the other room. Pointing at the front door, you listen to Daniel laugh as he offers Wonwoo a wave in passing, getting one in return before he walks with you to the door. 

“I know who he is.” 

Sighing heavily, you stomp your feet on the tile, lightly glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one is watching you as Daniel speaks. 

“I know you do; now hush.” 

Shaking his head, Daniel grins and reaches up to pat your cheek once before dropping his hand. He loved to see you happy and to tease you. You were always so cute when you were flustered. 

“I like him. If you don’t date him, I will.” 

“Oh my god, if you don’t get out of my house..." 

Laughing a bit louder than intended as you try to kick his leg, Daniel puts his hand over his lips to stiffen the laugh, opening the door to the cold air to escape your attack. 

“Fine, fine. I will talk to you later. Have a good rest of your day, Mrs. Jeon.” 

Pushing his shoulder hard, you listen to Daniel laugh as he stumbles on to the porch when you close the door behind him, leaning against it. Your heart is racing but there is a smile on your face. As annoying as your ex could be, you didn’t mind the name hitting your ears. 

Taking a moment, you collect yourself, enjoying the smell of fresh coffee filling the air as you move back towards the living room to find Jacob. You half expected him to rush towards you like he did most mornings after being with his dad. He usually wanted to tell you all about his trip but today you press your fingers to your lips as you lean against the wall, watching him sit on Wonwoo’s lap, going through his toys one by one. 

“Oh yeah? What’s that one?” 

Jacob laughs, trying to say bear, only for Wonwoo to help him get the word right on the third try. Wonwoo grins and holds the boy a bit tighter, only then seeming to notice you watching him. Offering you a smile, he tilts his head, starting to move but you shake your head and lift your hands. 

“I’ll start breakfast.” 

Smiling up at you, Jacob babbles about tater tots once again, making you and Wonwoo laugh. 

“I’ll make you tots; show Wonwoo your book.” 

Wonwoo smiles, reaching for the small book and offering it to the boy, who points at it and says book, then at the word on the cover. 

“Colors.” 

Grinning, Wonwoo smiles against the small boy's head and nods. 

“That’s right. You’re smart, little man.” 

You can only put a hand on your chest, feeling your heart tighten with how much you love the sight of Wonwoo with Jacob. Pulling open the fridge, you smile, listening to both of them laugh as Wonwoo helps Jacob through the book, reading each color and listening to your son repeat them back to him. 

“So, if you aren’t busy tonight, would you want to come over for dinner?” 

Wonwoo glances up from his computer to look at you standing next to his desk. Your tablet is in your hands as you scroll through his schedule. The two of you had done a great job at pretending like nothing had changed at work when the door was open but behind closed doors, it was a bit harder for him not to want to put you on top of his desk and eat you out. Your skirt was hugging your thighs deliciously, and all Wonwoo could think was how it had been days since the first time he had been with you. He knew he was being insatiable. 

“I’m not busy; I’m never busy when it comes to spending time with you.” 

You smile, unable to keep it from your lips, at Wonwoo’s words. He was a charmer and it had only gotten worse since your date and night together. You had wanted to see him again but work and Jacob made things a bit more difficult. You couldn’t just get a babysitter and take time from your son to spend it with a man. You were a mom first and Wonwoo understood that. But then Jacob started asking for “Woo,” and you knew you had to do something. 

“Okay…Jacob will be with me, of course but he’s been asking to see you. He’s been asking for Woo to come back over and see him.” 

God Wonwoo’s chest was tight. His heart felt like it was going to burst upon hearing that. He was desperately in love with you and he adored Jacob. He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen himself as a father, but the moment Jacob sat down in his lap at your house and started showing him toys, asking him how to say them, he knew he wanted to be in that little boy’s life for the rest of his life. He wanted to be in your life. 

“Oh yeah? I’d be happy to see the little man. I’ve missed him and his momma.” 

That shouldn’t make you want him. That was a sweet comment. It wasn’t flirty, so why did your thighs push together on instinct? You were down bad for this man. Clearing your throat, you push together your lips, trying to stop yourself from smiling so broadly but it’s impossible as Wonwoo watches your own smile on display. 

“Then I’ll see you after work, Mr. Jeon.” 

Your bright smile and the use of Mr. Jeon cause Wonwoo’s breath to hitch. You were testing him. He was going to put you over the desk if he looked at you for much longer but much to his dismay, you laugh sweetly as you close his door behind you, leaving him half hard in his dress pants. 

“I could do the dishes, Y/N.” 

Wonwoo sighs as you smack at his hand, lifting the plates from the table. You had already told him no several times but he was trying to be insistent on helping. 

“No, seriously. Go relax. Jacob will have to go to bed soon and he wanted to see you. You can’t see him if you are helping me load the dishwasher.” 

Grumbling under his breath, Wonwoo leans to kiss your cheek, making you smile, and glances around for Jacob, making sure he can’t see it happening. Wonwoo had been good up to that point. He had snuck in a couple of kisses here and there, but he seemed to know to watch his hands when your son was around. You were appreciative of that. 

Moving into the living room, Wonwoo smiles when Jacob perks up seeing him. He loved that look on the toddler's face and that he could be the one to put it there. He wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve it but he would do anything to keep it there. 

“What’s up, little man?” 

“Woo! Turn tv on." 

Wonwoo wasn’t sure what the after dinner rules were but you haven’t said that Jacob wasn’t allowed to watch television so he shrugged and slumped down on the couch, picking up the remote as Jacob pulled himself up next to him. 

“What are we watching?” 

Smiling, Wonwoo lets Jacob wiggle his way into his lap and back against his chest as the boy looks at the television. 

“That! ‘Ook! Cars!” 

Wonwoo laughs as he stops watching the movie, putting the remote next to him. It was well into the movie, the red racecar riding around the town with the tow truck as they talked to one another but Jacob seemed happy as he held his own toy car to his stomach. 

Dinner had been delicious; Wonwoo’s stomach was full and now he had a warm toddler laying against him like a blanket. Jacob giggled at the movie and then curled up against him, running the wheels of his car over Wonwoo’s leg before his breaths became more steady. The little boy was starting to fall asleep as Wonwoo’s hand ran along his back calmly. 

Smiling down at him, Wonwoo couldn’t help but run his fingers through Jacob’s hair as he watched his small eyes flutter closed. It was around his bedtime. Wonwoo remembered from your date that this was around the time you had mentioned so it made sense, especially with a full stomach, that he would be tired. 

Maybe he should put him to bed? But then he might wake him up? Shaking his head to his own thoughts, Wonwoo just smiles as his own eyes start to close, the movie a quiet background to the soft breaths of the toddler asleep in his arms. 

Finishing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen, you curse under your breath, seeing the time and realizing it was past Jacob’s bedtime. It wasn’t a huge deal, but you didn’t want him to be wound up and harder to put down, especially with Wonwoo over. You start to speak but stop short when you move into the room to find Jacob asleep, laying on Wonwoo’s chest. The man’s eyes closed as he pats your son’s back gently. 

Your heart was full and you felt tears on the rims of your eyes as you watched them for a few minutes, not wanting to interrupt the moment. It was so rare that Jacob was this content, and you weren’t sure how Wonwoo’s life was outside of what he had spent with you but it was nice to see him at peace. 

Finally moving into the room, you turn off the television before leaning to brush your fingers over Wonwoo’s hair, causing him to smile and open his eyes to look up at you. Whispering hi, he glances down at Jacob, causing you to smile as you drop your fingers to that of your son’s hair, brushing through the slightly tangled locks, careful not to wake him. 

“I can get him to bed.” 

Furrowing his brows, Wonwoo shakes his head and shifts slightly before looking up at you. 

“I can carry him, if that’s okay with you.” 

Your heart was so tight with how much you were falling for Wonwoo that it was almost painful. Pressing your lips together, you nod and take a step back, letting Wonwoo move to his feet carefully. You watch as he cradles your son to his chest, shifting him so that his little cheek rests on his shoulder, Wonwoo’s arm against his legs, and his other hand behind his back, before he smiles at you, waiting for you to lead the way. 

Reaching up to pat your lips and trying to keep yourself from smiling too big, you just shake your head and start walking in the direction of Jacob’s bedroom with Wonwoo in tow. He watches as you turn on Jacob’s nightlight and pull back his covers, letting him lay down in the small bed. 

“Thank you, Wonwoo.”

Smiling, Wonwoo nods at you, taking a few steps back so you can sit next to your son, tucking him in and shushing him back to a deep sleep. Leaning against the door frame, Wonwoo can’t help but picture every night going exactly like this. Watching you put Jacob to bed—perhaps another child in the future—before he would bring you back into his arms...

You nuzzle your nose against Jacob’s cheek as he smacks his lips, his little hand wrapped around your fingers. You could tell he was tired and happy and that was all you wanted in life—for your son to be happy. Pressing your lips to his forehead, you smile and lean back, carefully taking your hand back before whispering as you smooth his hair one last time. 

“Goodnight, baby. I love you.” 

Wonwoo watches. You have to pull yourself away from Jacob, but the moment you turn back to him, you smile, and he just shakes his head in awe of how beautiful you are. Reaching out his hand, he takes yours, leading you out into the hall and letting you stop to close Jacob’s door before he leans to press his lips against your forehead. 

“Stay…” 

Your words cause Wonwoo to close his eyes. He hadn’t been sure what you would want but he had hoped you wouldn’t want him to leave. Lacing your fingers with his, you turn towards your bedroom, leading Wonwoo with you. 

Wonwoo’s fingers fall from yours as you step to close your door, turning to rest your back against it as he watches you. Swallowing hard, he furrows his brows, almost nervous to move this time. He didn’t want to do anything wrong, especially since he knew the two of you weren’t alone tonight and if that meant just sleeping with you in your bed, he was okay with it. 

As if sensing his apprehension, you smile and step forward, pulling your shirt up and over your head, only to drop it and hear Wonwoo’s shaky breath once you are in reach of him. His fingers run over your sides and up to the clasp of your bra, resting in the middle of your back, when you look up to meet his eyes. 

“Make love to me. Yes…we have to be quiet but you can still make love to me.” 

Wonwoo nods, his fingers working open the clasps as he leans down to meet your lips gently at first, only to deepen the kiss when your nails scratch under his shirt, pulling him closer to you. You listen to him bite back his own groan by pushing his lips against yours when your nails dig into his skin at his hips, causing you to smile on his lips. 

“Fuck, Y/N. You told me to be quiet.” 

Nodding, you look up at him innocently and Wonwoo shakes his head, scoffing at you. A small squeak slips from your lips when Wonwoo’s arms slide under your ass, picking you up even for a moment so he can lay you back on your bed. Laying over you, Wonwoo grins down at you, seeing a look of surprise in your eyes. 

“Don’t tease me.” 

You smile, your bottom lip caught between your teeth at Wonwoo’s words. He didn’t mean it and you knew it. 

“No?” 

Shaking his head, Wonwoo narrows his eyes at you playfully as you lift your hips, letting him help you out of your jeans and panties. Between brief kisses to your breasts, stomach, and legs, you watch Wonwoo strip out of his own clothes before he is back on your bed, resting against your headboard and pulling you onto his lap. 

“I don’t think you mean it.” 

Wonwoo’s brow lifts at your words before a long, soft groan slips from his lips as your hand wraps around his cock, twisting slowly. You were sitting back on his thighs just enough that he could picture you sitting on his cock but now here he was watching your pretty hand work over his length, teasing him like he had told you not to. 

“I–fuck. Did mean it.” 

Leaning to press a kiss to his cheek, you stroke Wonwoo’s cock from his base to his head, letting your palm roll over his head before repeating the process all over again. 

"No, you didn’t. You like to be teased, Wonwoo. Least by me, I think... am I wrong, baby?” 

Baby…Wonwoo groans your name when you call him the pet name. God, you were his, and he wanted you forever. You were right about everything. In the past, he had hated to be teased but as you pressed your thumb into his slit and then played with the pre-cum that oozed from his tip, Wonwoo could only pant out your name like a prayer. 

“I’m not wrong. You are so wet, baby. You came so much inside me last time. Will you cum as much this time?” 

Since when did you talk this dirty? You had been so shy. Where did this confidence come from? Wonwoo was in love with every side of you. The shy little pillow princess that he had fucked into the mattress last time and this vixen who was making him whimper like a puppy looking for a treat now. 

“Yeah…fuck, yeah. I will... for you. Babe…fuck me. Let me be inside you. Don’t make me cum like this, please?” 

Jeon Wonwoo was begging you. Swallowing hard, you feel the power of that rush to your brain and between your legs as arousal drips from you and onto his thighs. This was the same man that you had daydreamed at work about letting him push your skirt up and fuck you over his desk and now you’d have new daydreams. Perhaps you’d do this exact thing at work as you sat on his desk, watching him try to work. 

This man was bad for your work professionalism. 

Wonwoo’s head falls back against the headboard as you lower yourself down over him. He had missed your pussy. He had missed being inside of you. He had dreamt about it. Not only fucking you but just being inside of you. Just sitting and being warm inside your walls as he worked or watched television. You were that good. 

With your hands resting on his chest, you whimper Wonwoo’s name, feeling that now familiar stretch as he pushes his hips up to meet yours. Sliding his feet up on the bed, Wonwoo grasps your hips and lifts you up to rest your knees on the mattress on either side of him so he can thrust up into you slowly and deeply. 

Wonwoo was already close. You had put him right on the edge of his climax with your hand, and now your perfect pussy was gripping him like a warm, wet vice, and his head was spinning. Reaching down with his right hand, Wonwoo rubs his thumb between your folds and you have to bite down on your lips to stop the scream from escaping your lips with how quickly your own orgasm starts to sneak up on you. The pressure between the way his cock fills you up and the circles his thumb draws over the bundle of nerves plummets you over the edge. 

With your thighs shaking, you fall forward, your mouth resting against Wonwoo as you orgasm hard and fast. Clenching his jaw, Wonwoo breathes through the feeling of your body, milking him for every last drop he has to offer until he can’t stand it anymore and gives it to you. With a groan you are quick to silence, Wonwoo thrusts up hard, pressing his hips flush with yours as he cums as he promised, filling you just as full as he had the first time. 

Your body is weak as you rest against him, and you can’t help but laugh softly as Wonwoo’s hand runs along your back. Letting out a slow breath, Wonwoo shakes his head and starts to speak when the sound of tiny cries comes from a room down the hall, drawing your attention. 

“Jacob is awake…” 

With a look of panic in your eyes, Wonwoo watches as you quickly but carefully climb from him to rush to the bathroom as he reaches for a tissue, cleaning up the best he can before pulling on his sweatpants. The sound of tiny feet and then hands smacking your door broke Wonwoo’s heart as he glanced at your bathroom door. 

Unsure what to do, Wonwoo paces in place, meeting your eyes when you move out of the bathroom dressed in a long t-shirt. Raising his hands, Wonwoo whines as you whisper it’s okay to him and you move to the door, opening it for Jacob. 

Moving into your arms, Jacob sobs softly and mutters about scary things and a dream as you pat his back, lifting him into your arms. Watching for a moment, Wonwoo glances around the room, quickly picking up a few clothes before moving towards you to run his hand over Jacob’s hair, drawing the toddler’s attention. 

“It’s okay, little man. Your momma’s here.” 

You smile as your son sniffs away his tears nuzzling against you for a moment longer before reaching for Wonwoo, causing the man to mutter a surprised oh. 

“Yeah, okay. I got ya…  what do we—”

He looked so lost and handsome that it broke your heart. Laughing softly, you move to your bed as Wonwoo comforts your son, bouncing him gently in his arms. Pulling back the covers, you pat your bed and Wonwoo nods, moving to lay Jacob down, only for the boy to cling to his neck, pulling him towards him. 

“It’s okay, Wonwoo...  lay down with him. You are comforting.” 

Jacob whines when Wonwoo looks unsure, a panicked “Woo!” falling from the toddler's lips, making Wonwoo’s face soften as he lays down next to your son, letting the child curl up on his chest. 

“I think, for one, you remind him of his dad and for two, he really likes you. I can’t blame him.” 

His cheeks burning, Wonwoo smiles at you, lifting his hand to brush Jacob’s hair from his forehead as the boy finds a comfortable spot. 

“Just don't… I don’t wanna overstep.” 

Shaking your head, you turn off the light before sliding into the bed next to Wonwoo and Jacob, feeling a tiny hand reach for you, pulling you closer to him and Wonwoo. 

“You aren’t.”

Wonwoo can only nod as he listens to Jacob’s breath steady out. The same sound of the toddler falling asleep on the couch starts to make him feel at peace as he watches Jacob relax, and he finally looks at you as you brush Jacob’s hair with your fingers humming softly under your breath. 

He isn’t sure how long he watches you, and just listens to you softly sing your son to sleep but when you finally meet his eyes, giving him a smile, Wonwoo can’t help himself. You are the most beautiful you have ever been, just like this, and this is the most he has ever been in love with in his entire life. So he just says it...

“I love you, Y/N.”

You don’t say it back. It isn’t that you don’t love Wonwoo back; it’s that you weren’t expecting it. Especially not like this. Not while he is holding your son, looking exactly how you would love to see him for the rest of your life. You bury your mouth against your pillow, your cheeks burning as Wonwoo’s fingers brush over them and he smiles, seeming to know, before he closes his eyes, letting you off the hook for the night. 

After a few moments, you listen to the sound of Wonwoo and Jacob’s breaths as the two most important men in your life sleep, and your head spins with how lucky you are before you follow them both in both restful and restless sleep. 

Mingyu makes a face as he carefully adds the pork belly to the pot on the stove as Wonwoo leans over the island, watching him like a hawk. 

“Do you want to make the Bossam?” 

Shaking his head, Wonwoo leans back and points at his rice maker, clearing his throat.

“I said I could make rice.” 

Seungcheol laughs, leaning back in his chair and listening to his friends banter. He wasn’t sure why they were all over at Wonwoo’s place hours before dinner, but if Wonwoo needed emotional support, they would provide it. 

“I’d prefer to eat something edible, Gyu, so please keep Wonwoo out of the kitchen, even if he owns it.” 

Wonwoo mocks Seungcheol as he leans over the sink, washing the rice, hearing Mingyu chuckle behind him. He was grateful they were there. He had wanted you to meet a few of his close friends. Perhaps not all of them at once, but at least a few of them, so he asked you over to dinner without thinking about what he would make or order. Lucky for him, his best friend was Kim Mingyu. 

Seokmin peeks over Mingyu’s shoulder, grabbing a piece of cabbage to snack on, only to have his hand smacked by the larger man as he curses under his breath, shooing him away. 

“Mingyu’s a jerk. I was just trying to help.” 

Jeonghan shakes his head, leaning it over to rest on Seungcheol’s shoulder as the eldest of the friend group chuckles into a sigh. There was only one of them missing tonight who had accepted the invitation, but the sound of Wonwoo’s door beeping and a loud hello announced Soonyoung’s arrival. 

Wonwoo glances over to the last of his friends to arrive as he holds up two bags with a grin on his face, feeling proud of himself. His jacket has a tiger print that makes Wonwoo groan in embarrassment as he quickly remembers that you will be there in just a couple of hours around these men that he has told you are perfectly normal and good people. 

“I brought refreshments. Seokmin told me that Wonwoo’s girlfriend will be here and probably doesn’t get to party much so I will change that.” 

Dropping the rice into the maker, Wonwoo sighs loudly before pressing the button to start the cooking before all eyes are on him, including Soonyoung. 

“It’s…look, okay? This isn’t a party. If she wants a drink, that's great, but don’t treat this like some frat party.” 

Mingyu purses his lips, putting a basil leaf into the pot, before he glances up to watch Soonyoung’s reaction to Wonwoo’s words. 

“I’m just trying to make sure your girlfriend has a good time, Wonwoo.” 

Wiping away some grains of dry rice from the counter, Wonwoo laughs at Soonyoung’s words, but the laugh is one of unamusement as he shakes his head. 

“I–we haven’t discussed what we are. I just wanted her to meet my friends—you know, my family. So just be nice to her. Just get to know her and be on your best behavior.” 

Sitting up, causing Jeonghan to have to do the same, Seungcheol clears his throat as he rubs his thighs, nodding. 

“We can do that, man. Soonyoung…lose the jacket. We’ve grown up; we can act classy for a night.” 

Wonwoo grimaces at Seungcheol’s words, especially hearing Jeonghan’s light chuckle. He wasn’t so sure but he was willing to let them try. 

“No, seriously. He ate ramen for six months before he became my roommate. It was tragic.” 

Your laugh makes Wonwoo smile, though his cheeks burn from Mingyu’s words. He should have known the conversation would turn to college and how each of them had met, but he didn’t know his friends would be so quick to air his “dirty laundry.”

“Y/N? Would you like another drink?” 

Soonyoung’s voice draws your attention, and you can’t help but coo at the man. He had been so sweet to you and made the most delicious Manhattans. Nodding, you watch him hurry off to the bar cart as Wonwoo leans back in his chair beside you, a glass of whisky in his hand that he had been nursing for some time. 

“The food was wonderful.” 

Wonwoo smiles and nods, glancing at Mingyu, who seems to shy away, turning to Seokmin to speak. 

“Compliments of our personal chef, Kim Mingyu. I swear, if he hadn’t gone into business, he would have gone into the culinary arts like Junhui.” 

You smile brightly, leaning forward to look at Mingyu as he shyly meets your eyes. He wasn’t at all what you had mistaken him for. Wonwoo had been right; the playboy persona was an act for the press and underneath it was a good soul who was going to make someone very happy one day. 

“The best food I’ve had in years. Perhaps better than what Wonwoo treated me to last week, seriously.” 

Jeonghan grins, reaching towards the middle of the table for one of the cupcakes he had provided for dessert, only to place it in front of you. 

“Don’t stroke his ego too much. Here, speaking of where you ate last week, I picked these up today for dinner. I thought you might enjoy them.” 

You watch as Jeonghan sits back down, reaching for his glass of wine, as Seungcheol, who sat on his right, reaches for a cupcake curiously. 

“What did you get, Han?” 

The man grins while watching you cut your cupcake in half, the center melting, causing you to gasp in surprise. Wonwoo just smiles, resting his free hand against the back of your chair as you pick up half of the cupcake, bringing it to your lips to take a bite, before closing your eyes in wonder. 

In that instant, Wonwoo wished the two of you were alone. It was one of those moments when he wanted to watch you enjoy something alone, but when you laugh, lifting your fingers to your lips to clean a bit of melted chocolate from them, he can’t help but smile into his own laugh. 

“Is it good?” 

You whisper a yes and nod at Wonwoo, lifting the rest of the cupcake half towards him, making him flustered as he leans to take it from your fingers as his friends watch. Jeonghan just smirks, tilting his head, feeling like his job was complete. He knew love when he saw it. He was schooled in it, having acted like he was in love hundreds of times but real love... that gave off a feeling and he could feel it even from feet away between you and Wonwoo. 

Seungcheol nods at the taste of the cupcake, muttering that it was good, until Jeonghan elbows his side and nods towards you and Wonwoo, making him shut up and smile. Seokmin and Mingyu had noticed and tried to keep their conversation low but Soonyoung, in his own world, put your drink in front of you and gestured towards it proudly. 

“One Manhattan for the lovely lady, compliments of Kwon Soonyoung.” 

Kicking his leg out, Mingyu hears Soonyoung complain about being kicked before he almost notices you giving lovey eyes to Wonwoo, and he backs off with a chuckle. 

“Oops…I’ll just—I’ll go over here.” 

Wonwoo groans, licking his lips, as the moment is ruined and you can’t help but laugh, knowing it wasn’t the right time or place. So many of Wonwoo’s friends were there and you were, in essence, being rude by monopolizing his time and making the atmosphere awkward. 

“Sorry…” 

Shaking his head, Wonwoo watches you start to put your hand down as he takes your hand in his and kisses your fingers. 

“Don’t be. Enjoy your drink.” 

Wonwoo watches you after dinner as he cleans up. He can’t help but smile as you do, chuckle when you laugh at Seungcheol’s stupid jokes. He finds himself happily watching from across the room as his friends go on about how they adore you and how you are welcome to call them anytime. 

That was what he had wanted. They loved you; how could they not? He knew exactly who you were and he knew his friends. There was no way you all wouldn’t get along. 

“I just don’t have time to date. Wonwoo’s lucky; he found you. He’s always been the lucky one in our group, if I’m honest.” 

You smile at Seokmin as he leans against the back of the couch, his head on his hand as his elbow presses into the cushion. Wonwoo was finishing up the last of the cleaning with Mingyu in tow, and you had already said goodbye to Soonyoung and Jeonghan. 

Seungcheol just smiles at you, thinking how wonderful you are, as his eyes move back to one of his best friends as he laughs talking to Mingyu in the kitchen, putting the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. He was listening to two conversations when you said his name, making him look over at you fondly. 

“Hm?” 

“I was just asking if you were in the same boat as Seokmin or if there was a lucky somebody for me to hang out with at the next function." 

Grinning, Seungcheol shakes his head and sighs heavily, lifting his hands off his legs before putting them back down. 

“I guess we’ve all been wrapped up in work but I won’t lie...  Seeing Wonwoo this happy makes me wanna try.” 

Seokmin just nods in agreement, making your cheeks warm up as you look over at the man who had made you smile more recently than you could remember. 

“He’s liked you for such a long time, Y/N. He’s a good guy. I know things aren’t perfect for him, and he’d probably be pissed at me for saying this but he’s genuine.” 

Looking down at your hands as Seungcheol speaks, you just nod, understanding what he was saying, before you hear him sigh and stand up, drawing your attention upwards. 

“You’re leaving?” 

The man nods, glancing at his watch, causing you to frown. 

“It’s getting late and it’s only going to get colder. They are calling for snow, you know?” 

You hadn’t looked at the weather today, but he had made a good point. Seokmin makes a face at the idea of the cold before sighing and standing up, making you pout and follow his lead so you can say goodbye to both of them. 

Moving from the kitchen, Wonwoo looks surprised when Seungcheol offers him a hug, followed by Seokmin, who then moves to you to do the same. You really did feel like you had been welcomed into his family, and it was causing you to feel a bit overwhelmed suddenly. 

“I guess it is getting late. Let me see these guys out, and I’ll be right back.” 

Mingyu groans, looking at his phone, before moving to you to hug you tightly, causing you to laugh at how strong his grip is and yet how warm it feels. 

“Don’t be a stranger, Y/N. I like you better than him.” 

You feel Mingyu’s head move towards yours before he laughs, and you know that Wonwoo has pushed him, making you smile as he offers you a wink and all the men leave you in the large living area alone. You hear their voices trail off as you wrap your arms around yourself and walk towards the large windows that offer a view of the city for miles. 

Sighing, you furrow your brows at how cold you suddenly feel in such a large house. You hadn’t seen all of it but even in just this space, you felt out of place. You were beginning to remember how different your life was from Wonwoo’s as you started to turn from the window, only to see a bookshelf holding a vast number of books and picture frames. One in particular catches your eye. 

In the picture, you see Wonwoo, much smaller and younger than he is now, in the middle of a group of other boys. They look to be around 19 or 20 years old as they stand in front of a frat house. You look around at the other faces, and you can pick out Mingyu, Seungcheol, Jeonghan, Seokmin, and Soonyoung. Your lips pull up into a smile as you run your index fingernail over Wonwoo’s smiling face as Mingyu holds his shoulders and another much shorter man on his other side. 

He hadn’t always had what he has now, you remind yourself. He had told you that many times. You didn’t feel comfortable now but perhaps he hadn’t always either. Maybe it was cold and lonely at times in this big house when he was alone, and you find yourself frowning as you look at the picture, counting the men, including Wonwoo. Thirteen. He had lived with twelve others, and now he was alone. No…not anymore. 

Walking back into the room, Wonwoo stops seeing you by the window with a picture frame in your hand. He can’t help but smile a bit at how pretty you are at first, but then the smile fades as he sees the concerned look on your face when he gets closer. Wrapping his arms around you from behind, Wonwoo rests his chin on your shoulder and looks down at the picture of him with his friends in college; he was still friends with all of them. They had all reached varying levels of success, like they had promised. He was proud of all of them.

“Are you okay?” 

You nod but then sigh, leaning back against Wonwoo as you put the picture back on his shelf, sliding your fingers along his arms and glancing back out of the window at the view. Wonwoo follows your eyes but he focuses more on your reflection in the window. 

“Are you lonely, Wonwoo?” 

Furrowing his brows, Wonwoo holds you closer and tightens his hand on yours as you lace your fingers with his. “No…I mean, not now. I used to be.” 

You were right. Sighing softly, you slide your free hand along his arm and shake your head as you look out at the city. Seungcheol had been right. It looked like the weather was getting worse. It looked like it was going to snow. 

“Why do you ask, baby?” 

Shaking your head again, you just smile softly, leaning your cheek against Wonwoo’s. 

“This house is so big for just you. I worried you might be lonely.” 

Wonwoo can’t help but smile at your reasoning. He loved you so much and your caring heart. Leaning to kiss your cheek, Wonwoo feels you smile again as you let out a soft breath. 

“I love you, Y/N.” 

His words are spoken against your cheek as you watch the first bit of snow begin to fall. Your tiny happy gasp causes Wonwoo to look out the window as you make a happy sound, commenting on how pretty it is—the first snow of the season. 

“Mm, it is pretty, and so are you.” 

Turning in Wonwoo’s arms, you feel his fingers run along your dress at the small of your back as he smiles down at you. Your eyes meet his almost shyly, before he leans down to press his lips to yours gently as your fingers hold his face on either side with a featherlight touch. 

“I love you, Wonwoo.” 

Hearing you say the words back to him for the first time, Wonwoo freezes and smiles against your lips. He simply sighs, happily stepping in closer to you, his hands pulling your body in tighter to his as he deepens the kiss briefly before letting you take a breath so he can rest his forehead on yours. 

“Say it again.” 

You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully, as Wonwoo traces the line of your zipper up the middle of your back to your shoulders so he can pull it down as he waits for you to speak. It’s only when you tell him that you love him that he drags the zipper down. 

“I love you too. So, so fucking much.”

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[papercorgiworld]

Muffins and Fireworks, because I want your love

A Mattheo Riddle fluff

You are a kind and sweet person and you weird out Mattheo so much by being nice to him that you have him falling for you badly, turning our sour boy soft and sweet.

This was a lovely request but I feel like I screwed it up. I don't know but I feel like I could've done better, but it's really fluffy so I do hope it's to your liking. Also sorry for taking a freaking century to write this! For the cameo piece, Raven (@sunshineangel-reads) is your friend who listens to you talk about muffins and who ends up dating Blaise. They're very kissy. Thanks for sending in! I honestly feel like this story is more about muffins than Mattheo but yeeah, I love both.

My ending was inspired by prompt 4 of @thatdammchickennugget 's Hogmarch Challenge and since it’s still the 25th, I’m just in time.

Warning: fluffy fluffiness and kinda long for my standards

I. Kindness

You weren’t one for loud Gryffindor parties, but your friends had convinced you to come anyway. So here you were, standing outside the three broomsticks in need of some fresh air while looking up at the moon. After a few minutes you sigh and turn to head back to your friends. Just then a drunk figure stumbles through the door, almost bumping into you. You stop and he turns around looking even more drunk than he was walking. “Elloo, pretty thingy.” He flirts playfully pointing his finger in your direction, making you laugh as you had never seen Mattheo Riddle in this state. He takes two steps towards you and one step back, before focussing on you again. “Have we met?” He says leaning forward and stumbling closer to you. You chuckle and nod. “Yes, Mattheo, we’ve been going to the same school for several years.” A bright and toothy smile spreads on his lips and you find his drunk state almost adorable. “Then tell me, why aren’t you my girlfriend?” Mattheo tries to take another step towards you, but stumbles to the side and you reach for his upper arms to hold him steady. “Whoopsie.” Mattheo says, leaning closer to you again. You shake your head and get a little flustered at his flirtiness. “You. You are incredibly drunk.” You chuckle and his eyes just move from your sweet ones to your kissable lips. Your mind is freaking out as you catch on with Mattheo’s intentions, but it only lasts for a second because suddenly Mattheo tears himself loose from your hands, keeping him steady. 

You frown and scrunch your nose as Mattheo throws up a few feet away from. You hear his painful breath and bite your lip as you watch him, pitting him. You think quickly and conjure a soda for him. Slowly you move over to him, resting your hand on his back. “Here, have this.” You whisper as he still rests his hands on his knees, unable to look away from the ground. “No, no more. I think I’ve had enough.” He mutters and you chuckle. “It’s not alcohol, but I’m glad you’ve figured out that you’ve had enough alcohol for today.” You gently stroke his back up and down and his eyes move to the cup and then looks up at you. You take a step back when he takes the cup and he nods, clearly he’s partly sobered up. “Thanks.” He says, sounding confused, and you offer him a sweet smile. “Go sit for a moment.” You suggest and point to a nearby bench. Your hand brushes his biceps as you guide him to sit down and his eyes watch you darkly. He had never felt so uneasy, he just couldn’t wrap his head around your gentle touch and concerned eyes. You sat down next to him watching him with those sweet eyes of yours and he fell silent, drinking from the cup. “Better?” You ask and your soft voice gives him goosebumps. He nods as he stares at the drink in his hand. 

A few seconds pass in silence until a painful grunt leaves Mattheo’s lips. Again your hand rests on his back. “Do I need to walk you to the common room?” You sound genuinely concerned and Mattheo just doesn’t know how to behave around you anymore. “I’m not a girl. I don’t need to be walked anywhere.” You’re surprised by his snappy voice and you pull away, making Mattheo regret what he said, but it was too late now. He gets up and leaves, throwing the cup in a trashcan before shoving his hands in his pockets. You watch him walk away with his head low and you’re utterly confused at the way he left, but it was Mattheo Riddle after all. You knew he could act out, but you also knew that he didn’t always mean it that way. So you shrug and go back to your friends, not knowing that Mattheo would spend the entire evening alone thinking about you. Why were you so nice to me?

II. Sweetness

It was widely known around the school: you were always snacking. However, you also like to share. After a day in Hogsmeade you would bring your friends’ their favourite candy and you would pass a candy bag around before class to give everyone that well needed sugarboost. Mattheo found the gesture sweet, but also unnecessary. He was almost annoyed by your sweetness since he found it made you vulnerable to greedy people who would just take advantage of your generosity. Yet, you had noticed that on occasion he would take one of the really sour candies. Convinced that Mattheo only wanted one specific flavour of sour candy you made sure to get a small bag extra just for him.

Mattheo entered the classroom and immediately noticed the candy bag go around, making him roll his eyes as people that rarely talked to you suddenly pretended to be your friends, thanking you and saying you were amazing. You immediately noticed his mood get darker and you smile pleased that today you came prepared. Mattheo let himself fall next to Theo, but as soon as he sat you appeared in front of his desk. He shot you a curious look. “You lost?” He asked and Theo carefully watched the interaction between you two from the corner of his eyes. “No.” You say somewhat startled by his tone, but still smiling. “I noticed you rarely take any candy, probably because I never take anything you like, so I got you your favourite.” With a bright smile and shiny eyes you reveal the small bag of sour candies that you were holding behind your back.

Theodore can barely hide his smile as Mattheo stares with wide eyes. Due to a lack of reaction from the boy in front of you, your smile falters a little. “Not your favourites?” You whisper a bit embarrassed. Enzo’s hand reaches for the bag as he passes by. “I’ll take them, I love-” Mattheo’s eyes darken. “Paws off, Berkshire.” Your heart skips a beat at the harsh tone coming from Mattheo, but Enzo just laughs, raising his hands in defence. “They're good.” Mattheo nods and he feels himself melt as your sweet smile instantly returns. You hand them over and his eyes lock with yours for a moment. “Thank you.” Mattheo says, his voice a bit horse, revealing how weirded out he is by your kindness. “Sour candy for our sour boy.” Blaise says with a teasing smirk on his lips, while ruffling Mattheo’s hair, before quickly taking a seat next to Enzo far away from a clearly agitated Mattheo. “You don’t have to do this.” Mattheo says, inspecting the bag and you shake your head, but decide to ignore his statement. “Best to open it like this.” You say and your fingers reach for the bag in his hands. “I think I’ll manage.” Mattheo says tilting his head and you move away. “Right, sorry.” You chuckle and just then the professor walks in, so you quickly move to your seat.

Mattheo’s eyes stay on you as you grab your books while exchanging a casual word with your friend. He hated how you made him feel, how much you made him feel. Why couldn’t you just act like other girls flirty and none of this sweet and kind stuff. 

Boy is clearly weirded out by you, but also can't help but stare.

Mattheo didn’t learn anything during the hour that passed as he was only staring at you and thinking about you. What to do with you? What to do with himself and his growing feelings? However at the end of class he did learn one very important thing, considering cupcakes. Noisy students move through the classroom, quickly heading for the door, but you and Raven aren’t in a hurry at all and continue chatting while putting your quill and books away. “No muffins?” Raven exclaims in shock and you nod with a soft chuckle. “Rae, trust me. If they had any I would’ve bought them all. They have the best. Nothing rivals the sweet texture of Honeydukes’ muffins.” Raven frowns and slings her bag over her shoulder. “Out of muffins?” You follow her through the door. “Not a single one. So I have to wait for the weekend to restock.” You explain, voice pained with the lack of muffins in your life. “Will you survive that?” Raven laughs and you shake your head. “No, I’m in agony and it’s monday.” 

Your voice disappears in the hallway and Mattheo is still packing his books, since he was too focused on listening in on your conversation. Suddenly he’s in a hurry scrabbling his notes together and hurrying through the hallways, passing a confused Draco. “Potions’ that way!” The blond slytherin yells as Mattheo speed walks in the other direction. “Do we need to check on him and make sure he doesn’t punch anyone?” Theo just shrugs and heads to class. 

***

Your day had been exhausting and homework had just killed that last bit of will to live. You drop your bag on the floor of your dorm and walk over to your bed, noticing a rather large box and an envelope addressed to you. 

These are for the sweetest girl I know. Please don’t share, it’s okay to keep some things just to yourself. M.

You frown and flip the card, searching for a name. Disappointed that you don’t know who the card is from you move to open the box. An overjoyed yelp has your friends run into your room. “You okay?” You turn around to your worried friends rushing through the door. Your lips are already on the muffin in your hand and you nod, taking a bite. “I’m better than okay! I’m great! Look, muffins!” You take a step to the side and reveal the box with muffins on your bed and your friends laugh. “Who are they from?” You moan as you take another bite. “My lord and saviour.” Is the only answer you can give them.

III. Information is key

Mattheo could hear Raven’s giggling through the door, but as long as it wasn’t moaning there really was no reason to not walk in. Raven yelps and Blaise is quick to throw the sheets over her. “You’re early?” Mattheo smirks at Blaise’s question. “How are those tutoring lessons about magical creatures going? Learned anything new yet now that your tutor is-” “It got a little late so Rae stayed over.” Blaise explains before Mattheo said anything inappropriate. Mattheo nods in understanding. “She just stayed over. So if I pull the sheets you’ll both be wearing clothes, right?” Blaise’s tongue moves in his mouth and the hufflepuff girl in his bed pushes the sheets down just below her chin and gives Mattheo an innocent smile. “Hi.”

“What do you want, Matt?” Blaise sighs. “Chill, I’m not here for you. I’m here for the lady.” Blaise frowns and Raven’s brown eyes go wide. “Me?” Mattheo raises his eyebrows and nods. “Unless there’s another lady under those sheets…” Blaise groans and gives Mattheo a dark glare, urging him to move it. “I just need to know what’s up with that weird girl that you always hang out with.” Mattheo doesn’t mention your name in an attempt to sound uncaring and nonchalant about you, but the truth was he knew a lot about you. Raven’s eyebrows knit together. “Weird girl?” Mattheo rolls his eyes. “Yeah, the weird and always nice one.” Raven purses her lips as she thinks. “All my friends are nice.” She argues, getting up a little and Blaise wraps an arm around her to make sure the sheets stay around her body. “Well the pretty, weird and nice one.” Mattheo explains rather annoyedly, but this time Raven figures it out and sighs. “You mean (y/n).” Mattheo nods.

“What about her?” Raven asks and Mattheo rolls his eyes. “What’s her deal?” Raven frowns, why was Mattheo being so incredibly vague and weird about you. “Why is she always so nice?” Raven tilts her head at his absurd question. “Because she’s a nice person.” Mattheo sighs, not satisfied with the answer. “Yes, but there has to be something wrong with her?” Raven moves to sit up a little more and Blaise moves with her keeping the sheets close around her body, making sure not to reveal a single piece of skin. “Nothing’s wrong with her. She’s a sweet girl and even on bad days she makes the best out of everything. She likes snacking, either candy or any baked goods. She loves fireworks and chocolate milk. That’s it. Normal, sweet, happy (y/n).” Mattheo nods, finally making peace with the answer.

“Okay, fine. I’ll leave you two to it then. You have like an hour before everyone else returns.” Mattheo heads for the door, only stopping for a moment. “Thanks, Rae. And good luck with your new found idiot.” Blaise rolls his eyes and Raven giggles, turning her head towards Blaise. “He called you my idiot.” 

Now that Mattheo is gone, Blaise relaxes and falls back down on the bed. Raven rests on top of him. “What’s up with Riddle?” Blaise kisses her. “It’s Matt, just ignore him.” His hands roam her body and the kiss gets more passionate, until Raven pulls away. “Is he into her?” Blaise rolls his eyes. Damn, you Matt. “Yes, kinda, but he doesn’t know it yet.” Raven opens and immediately closes her mouth, confused by his answer. How does one not know that he likes someone? “Hasn’t (y/n) told you about what happened at the three broomsticks party a few weeks ago?” The hufflepuff shakes her head. “What happened?” Blaise can hear the curiosity in her voice and chuckles. “Matt got piss drunk and said some embarrassing flirty stuff before throwing up almost in front of her.” Raven’s eyes go wide. You had not told her any of this. “And like some princess in shining armour she took care of him and it freaked him out and he was a bit weird, but what surprised him even more was that she didn’t tell anyone about the embarrassing evening. So ever since that incident he’s getting softer and softer for her.” Raven huffs not believing what Blaise’s telling her. “Riddle soft?” She chuckles, but then something dawns on her. “The muffins! It was him wasn’t it? She gave him candy and he was so weird and rude about it and then those muffins showed up.” Blaise chuckles, but turns serious rather quickly. “Just promise me not to say anything to Mattheo about this, he’s struggling but he’ll figure it out.” Raven nods and kisses Blaise.

IV. Up to something

Annoyed in advance, Mattheo walked over to the Weasley twins sitting at the gryffindor table. “I need a favour.” He announced and both guys looked up, amused. “Why would we help you?” They sing in choir. Having anticipated this reaction, Mattheo coolly lays a few galleons on his end of the table, making both guys move their chin up in interest. Fred’s the first one to speak up with a bright smile. “Have I told you how big of a fan I am of Slytherin.” Mattheo raises his eyebrows, but before he can say anything George speaks up. “Your hair looks exquisite today.” Mattheo sighs. These guys, are they for real? “I need a favour not some shit ass compliments.” Fred tilts his head. “What do you want?”

You enter the great hall and spot Mattheo talking to twins. When you walk in their direction you hear them sing “A muffin?”, having immediately caught your interest you suddenly pop up next to mattheo. “Did I hear something about muffins?” You chuckle, but Mattheo just gives you a dirty look. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to eavesdrop? You didn’t hear shit, okay?” You nod, looking at him through your lashes. “I’m sorry.” Your sad apology makes Mattheo grimace. “Don’t let people be so rude to you.” Mattheo snaps and now you’re just utterly confused. “Sorry.” You blur out which makes Mattheo frown and walk away. “Pathetic.” He mutters and you look at the floor. Fred and George shake their heads. “Just ignore him, he’s just extra cranky. Don’t take it personally.” You smile and take a seat opposite of the twins. “What were you talking about anyway?” You ask and they look at each other for a moment. “You see that pile of money?” Fred asks and you nod. “That includes a fee to keep quiet.” George explains and you nod, knowing they won’t talk. 

Mattheo takes a seat next to Theo at the slytherin table, both guys watching him. Blaise is the first to speak. “Did I just really hear you tell her she’s pathetic?” Mattheo’s eyes shoot up to his friend. “What is it with people listening in on my conversations today?” Theodore chuckles and looks at his friend with a smug smile. “Look, you're gonna have to work on that flirting of yours.” Mattheo’s dead eyes move to Theo as he seriously considers if his face is worth the punch. “Let’s not forget that when Raven first complimented Blaise’s shirt, he laughed and said ‘it’s a guy’s shirt, you can’t like me’ and then walked away like she was the crazy one.” Blaise looked at his plate. “Thanks for bringing that up mate.” 

***

You really need to put an extra lock on your door, because when you got to your dorm you were surprised by another box and note on your bed. 

Allow me to take you to the Yule ball? Ps. if you say yes, you get to wear the dress. M.

You stare at the note for several seconds even though you had already read the message. Then you quickly open the drawer of your nightstand so you can compare the note you received with the cupcakes. “It’s the same person?” You whisper as you notice the similar handwriting. You sit down on your bed while a deep blush creeps up on your cheeks. Your heart goes faster and faster and you can’t hide your smile anymore, pressing your lips into a line. Your mind runs wild. Who is this person? After a second another thought creeps up. The box? You were laying right next to it, but had totally forgotten about it as your mind went wondering who the mystery person was. You jump up and study the box and the perfect ribbon around it. Without opening it you knew it would be perfect. Carefully you open it and gently you pull the dress out of the box, immediately holding it in front of you and checking it out in front of the mirror. Mystery person has taste… and has a date. You smile to yourself in the mirror.

V. Fireworks and love

Mystery dates are fun in theory, but in reality it had you stressing. Who is it? Where will we meet? Will he show up? How does this person even know I said yes? Well he did know I liked muffins so they’re spying on me for sure… 

Mattheo watching you enter the great hall, so in love you and so terrified of love.

The night of the Yule ball had been fun. You had danced with your friends and had gotten a million compliments about your dress, but as amazing as your night had been your mind was only concerned with one thing: your mystery date. Anticipation had filled your brain and heart the last few days and now you felt like you were going to explode. Standing alone you scan the room searching for any clue to who it could be, when Raven and Blaise join you. “Do you think he chickened out?” You wonder out loud and Raven wants to speak up but Blaise cuts in. “Maybe you should get a muffin at the buffet.” You frown, that was not even an answer to your question. With your eyes still scanning the people dancing, you turn down his offer. “Not in the mood.” You state dryly and Blaise’s face falls, but you don’t notice and neither does Raven. “She just wants the guy to reveal herself.” Raven says emphasising ‘the guy’ as she looks at Blaise, making you turn your head around in suspicion. Blaise chuckles nervously as he sees you narrow your eyes. “Just get a muffin, it will make you relax.” Raven sighs. “She-” Blaise kisses her to keep her from talking and your eyebrows knit together. “I already had a snack.” You sigh, eyes returning to the dance floor. “I saw there was only one left.” Blaise argues and Raven sighs. “Will you cut it with the muff-” Again Blaise’s lips crash on Raven’s to keep her from talking. When his lips finally move away from hers she huffs. “I feel like you’re limiting my freedom of speech with your kissing.” Blaise raises a sassy eyebrow at Raven. “Are you complaining?” A playful smile tugs on her lips and they close the distance between them, leaning in for yet another kiss. 

You groan and decide to go look for that last muffin anyway. When did they become so cheesy? And where in Merlin’s name is my date? You sigh, inspecting the table filled with all kinds of deliciousness, but nothing catches your eye as you're still occupied, wondering why your mystery date is keeping you waiting. A weak half smile tugs on your lips as you spot that last muffin and almost as a reflex you immediately reach for it. However it jumps away and you tilt your head. Did that muffin just jump? Again your reach for it, telling yourself that you did not just see it move away. Again it jumps up and you look around if anyone else noticed it, but everyone else was preoccupied with their date or friends. You narrow your eyes. I don’t have a date, but I will have this muffin. You move in as fast as you can but it starts to float. Whoever thinks this is funny is in the wrong. I’ll not chase a muffin around. You cross your arms. The muffin moves closer and you think this is your chance, but when you try to snatch it, it distances itself again, further from the table this time. You huff. Fine it’s not like I have anything better to do. 

Determined you follow the muffin until it brings you outside and you lose it in the darkness. “Lumos.” You whisper and move around the empty courtyard. “You shouldn’t chase floating food. Enchanted food isn’t that safe.” You spin around to meet Mattheo smirking at you with his hands in his pockets, his eyes scanning you. “How do you know I was chasing floating food? It could’ve had little legs?” Mattheo opens his mouth but your bizarre argument has him fall silent for a moment and smile. “I know, because I asked Fred and George to make it float.” Your eyes widen at his calm statement and Mattheo chuckles at your surprise, moving closer to you and you notice the courtyard light up as he moves. Your eyes adore the soft lights and you put your wand away. “I didn’t want other people around, when I asked you for our first dance. I didn’t want anyone to stare and judge. I wanted a moment just between us.” You feel yourself drawn to him, his soft voice and warm eyes making you fall in love with slytherin. 

Feeling safe around this gentle Mattheo you take a step closer to him, fingers entangling with the fabric of your dress to lift it slightly. “Did you buy this?” Mattheo smiled his sweetest smile and nodded ever so slightly, like he was almost embarrassed to admit he did all these things for you. “I needed something to convince you to say yes.” You blush, but bravely take another step towards him. “You already had a yes when you got me those muffins… or even before that.” Even though you whisper the last part he focuses on those words. Does she like me? 

You both look towards the castle as you hear the music change and a small smile tugs on your lips as you recognise it as one of the songs you had to learn by heart during those awkward dancing lessons in the weeks leading up to the Yule ball. Mattheo can’t help melting as he notices your soft smile in the dime light. “May I have this dance?” He says, bowing and offering his hand. You had always liked him. More than liked him, but you never dared or allowed yourself to act on those feelings, because he’s Mattheo Riddle. He gets into pointless fights and hangs out with a different crowd than you, different girls. But here he was, in front of you asking you to dance with him. It takes a second for you to reply, but you nod and instantly feel your whole body heat up as your hand touches his. 

It doesn’t even feel like dancing, it's more like you’re featherlight steps on a cloud as Mattheo guides you perfectly. His touch is gentle and yet firm enough to keep you from worrying that you’ll ruin the dance by missing a step. You drown in his eyes and his lips curl at your dreamyness. He didn’t even know how badly he needed someone to drown his eyes until you were in his arms. “Where’s your mind at?” Mattheo whispers curiously and you look away for a second, but you can’t keep your eyes away from his for long. “I- I was wondering… why me?” Mattheo fails to hold back a soft laugh at your silly question. To him it was obvious that it had to be you. You were simply perfect. He was in love with you. You were on his mind constantly. However, he didn’t dare say that, because that would be weird. With dreamy eyes you watch him and he feels himself get a little flustered as part of him wants to confess, while also wanting to run away and hide from you and his feelings for you. “I- I just-” 

Fireworks. Startled, you look up and Mattheo immediately pulls you against him as a protective reflex. You relax as you watch the wonderful fireworks, but hear Mattheo groan in annoyance, making you turn your head a little. Mattheo shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I should’ve never trusted something so important with the Weasley's. It wasn’t supposed to happen yet.” Your eyes move between him and the fireworks. “Raven mentioned you loved fireworks.” Mattheo whispers, partly hoping you wouldn’t hear it. Which makes you again wonder: “Why me?” 

Students come running outside, crowding the courtyard and watching the fireworks, but your eyes stay on Mattheo, enjoying the sound of fireworks, as you wait for his response. “Because I want your love, only yours and I’ll do anything to have it… That’s why I did all these silly things.” Mattheo’s heart races as he confesses something so scary. “You have it, Mattheo Riddle, all my love, you have it.” You whisper as you lean towards him and he happily meets your lips for a soft kiss. Ignoring everyone around you, this was your moment and it was perfect.

Feedback is always welcome!

Word count: 4522

[astraystayyh]

Echoes of love

"to love someone is firstly to confess; i am prepared to be devastated by you."

Chapter ii. to remember

genre : memory loss trope. angst. slow burn. unrequited love except you were in a loving relationship and everything changes overnight.

pairing : minho x reader. (3racha cameo)

summary : if given the choice would you love minho again? yes, you would've once said in a heartbeat. but now, you aren't sure of your response anymore.

cw : depiction of a nightmare and anxiety attack. allusion to mc having a bad family history with alcohol. suggestive in the end (allusion to sex but no smut). reader had she/her pronouns.

word count : 11k words.

song recs : the night we met/terrible love/black friday/cover me/already gone/enough.

chapter i. skz quotes series masterlist.

A.N: PT. 2 IS HERE!!!! i hope you'll enjoy this one, she's my baby and i put so much work and thought into her, so feedback is highly highly appreciated!!! thank you to my @forlix for being with me every step of this journey, i love u the most<33

Day 33. 

With a gentle, absentminded sweep, your fingers trace the delicate contours of your wrist, a faint dance with the pulse beneath your skin– the cocoon of the soul you’re gradually growing accustomed to. It is a trying task, you've found out, to no longer yearn to flee from your body, leaving the weight of your worries for your bones and flesh alone to bear. 

A subtle fragrance floats in the air surrounding you- the familiar gardenia and honey tones of your sweet perfume. It is a scent you reserve for special occasions, such as this one- your first date, in three months according to the world, in more than a year for your memory. 

You swiftly retrieve a mirror from your pouch, checking your appearance for the tenth time in mere minutes. Your nude lipstick is still, unsurprisingly, in place, and you smile reassuringly at your reflection. She smiles back, though sometimes you half-expect her not to. In defiance, perhaps, maybe even repulse. 

The melodious chime of the café's bell captures your attention, and the man you've been awaiting finally enters. He confidently strides in, clad in a blue polo and black slacks, an evident effort poured into his appearance. 

Standing before you, his warm, gleaming eyes meet yours, effortlessly melting your lingering worries. You smile at him, he beams at you. 

“Did I keep you waiting?” Changbin, your date, asks as he pulls the chair adjacent to you. 

“No, just in time.”

Two weeks ago. 

Day 17. 

“Use me. Use me to remember,” Minho whispers, the distance between your lips resembling the thin edge of a blade. 

You close your eyes, the world narrowing down to the sound of your heartbeat, a rhythmic drum drowning out any attempt at coherent thoughts. Kiss him, your heart chants, kiss him and all your memories will flood back. But what if they don't? What if the abyss persists before the brightest beam of light?

A tender kiss lands on your forehead, gently interrupting your tumultuous thoughts. Minho’s lips are as warm, as soft as you remember them. They're now imprinted into your skin, no longer a hazy memory beyond your reach.

His hands cradle your hair, smoothing it down, making the ringing in your ears soften. You surrender to his gentle embrace, to the soft tide of emotions rippling from him to you, pulling your wounded soul to safe shores. 

“You need to forgive yourself,” he whispers, his words echoing against your skin, lips still pressed to your forehead. A rush of warmth overwhelms you, all your senses coming to life, ringing the alarm- he sees you, he sees through you.

“None of this is your fault,” he assures, a sudden cooling balm against your scorching wounds. These are the words you've been aching to hear. You didn't know, but Minho did, reading between the lines of your quivering lips and your reluctance to look into his eyes. 

He knows you better than you know yourself. 

“Don’t blame yourself, please.”

“But all I do is hurt people,” you confess, tears streaming down your face like a relentless downpour, soaking Minho's hands. 

You expect punishment to strike you, bolting lighting aiming straight for your heart as you finally admit to your biggest sin- the shadow of sorrow that trails your every step. It is the way it has always been since you were a child. It is what you fled from. 

What you don't expect is for tenderness to cradle you instead— in Minho's warm hand as he gently guides you to his chest, your ear resting above his steady heartbeat. Its rhythmic cadence akin to a lullaby- you shouldn't apologize for existing, you hear it sing to you. 

“If you need forgiveness, I’ll give that to you. you’re forgiven, okay? I forgive you. Today and tomorrow. I'll forgive you until you'll forgive yourself.” 

“Okay,” you nod, muffled words against the fabric of his shirt.

“Now, will you please come back with me? The cats will miss you a lot if you don’t,” he suggests, pressing his cheek onto the crown of your head. 

“I don't want to leave them,” you reply in a small voice, dewdrops gathering in your eyes at the thought of running again. 

“You don’t have to. It’s your home too.”

“Okay,” you sigh in acceptance, relief, encircling his waist with your arms. He is all inviting, like an open book, and you're resting between his pages, scribbled with love confessions for you. 

The world stills, waves slowing their relentless crash against the shore, as you draw in a deep breath from the pits of your soul. You don't remember all you’ve once felt for Minho. But you know it must have been safe, like stumbling upon a haven and then learning it was specially carved for you. 

“I miss you, Minho.”

“I know, I miss you too.”

Day 19. 

“Minho, can you come to the kitchen please?” your voice reverberates through the house, weaving through the air and reaching the bedroom where Minho has been ensnared, his less-than-graceful complaints echoing loudly for the past hour. You had sealed him within without explanation, only making him promise not to leave the room until you told him to, much to his dismay, and deep down, amusement. 

He chuckles lowly to himself as he rises from the bed, before making his way to the kitchen. There, he finds you near the doorway, hands concealed behind your back, dusty flour adorning your cheek like an artist’s absentminded paint stroke.  

“So…,” you trail off and Minho smiles, crossing his arms before his chest.  

“So?”

“A situation may have happened.” 

“Which situation?” he inquires amusedly, attempting to peer past you into the kitchen. Your extended arms block his view.

“You know how I got a concussion from the car accident,” you ask. 

“I do.”

“I think it may have affected my cooking abilities.”

“But you didn't have any to begin with?” he muses, tilting his head to the side innocently. 

“Shut up,” you playfully admonish before clasping your hands in a silent plea. “Will you help me?” 

“Mm, what are you making?” he inquires, leaning against the doorway.

“Pudding.”

“Pudding?”

“For you.”

“Oh.” 

A blush creeps up Minho’s neck as he grapples to find a reply, his surprised gasp hanging into the air. You giggle faintly, entertained by his sudden speech impairment. 

In response, Minho takes a step forward, delicately brushing away the flour on your cheek, his thumb hovering near the corner of your mouth. “How did this get here?”

“Huh?” you sputter, pink splashing across your cheeks like spilled Rosé. 

Minho is testing your waters, dipping one toe in, hoping he’ll find your reassuring embrace lurking beneath the surface. Did you blush from the heat of the stove or his touch? Minho doesn’t know. Minho needs to find out. 

“And you also forgot this,” he lightly pouts, reaching over your head to the hanger behind you, caging you between his arms. 

He’s sacrificing his heart, placing it on the frontlines of hurt once again. Yet, when you look up at him, dewy eyes flickering to his lips, Minho feels a single match lighten up in his core, not enough to burn all his doubts. But enough to signal hope. 

Hope is a perilous possession, akin to cradling a fragile glass that threatens to shatter at the slightest tremor. Hope is the only thread Minho can now hang onto. 

“You forgot your apron,” he finally says, withdrawing two aprons from the hanger. He drapes one over your head before placing a hand on your shoulder, gently turning you around. He silently ties the strings into a ribbon, his fingers brushing against your spine. He can distinctly remember the feel of your bare skin beneath his fingertips, silky, smooth, intoxicating. 

“There, a pretty knot,” he whispers, not moving back an inch, waiting for you to swivel around. Yet, you remain silent, undoing your hair from its loose ponytail. Your hair cascades over your shoulders, resembling the unveiling of curtains, and Minho senses something unfurling in the depths of his stomach.

“Tie it for me?” you whisper, handing him the hair tie without looking back. Your fingertips brush against each other, and Minho inhales deeply.

“Sure,” he says, voice thick with emotion, he needs to drink water. He needs to drink you in. 

He gathers your hair strands in another low ponytail, trembling hands as they brush against the nape of your neck, akin to powerless leaves before the autumn breeze. He’s close, so close to you, so much his chest almost brushes against your back. 

As soon as he’s done, Minho swiftly steps back before doing something he’ll surely regret, like placing a tender kiss on your shoulder, or worse, confessing that he misses the simple act of brushing your hair at night. 

“So, pudding,” he clears his throat, rolling up the sleeves of his white hoodie. your eyes follow his movement, lingering on the veins protruding on his forearms. Minho feels a bit foolish for wanting to flex for you. 

“It’s really easy actually. bring me two eggs?” 

“Sure,” you grin, heading for the fridge as Minho retrieves sugar from the cupboard, throwing away the odd liquid mixture you managed to conjure. 

You stand beside Minho, eyebrows furrowed as he explains why the milk needs to be brought to a boil before adding the cornstarch, or how adding the vanilla at the very end will help preserve its flavor. You listen intently, nodding along, and the tension between you dispels, leaving place for something comforting, familiar– you’re erasing the remnants of his sobs, the sight of him crumbling over the green kitchen tiles. 

“Let's leave it to chill,” he finally says, closing the fridge’s door. 

“Okay,” you nod, packing away the butter. Minho leans against the countertop, an ember of curiosity ablaze at the tip of his tongue

“Why did you want to make pudding?” he asks and you freeze in place. 

“To see if I’m capable of not being a lost cause,” you respond playfully but the undertones of your voice indicate otherwise- laden, charged. One more match that you could light up? 

“Really?” he says softly, taking one step toward you. 

“No,” you giggle faintly and he nods, a gentle smile unfurling on his face, gradual as the eclipse of a moon.

“It was supposed to be your birthday gift. That's why I locked you in the room. I even bought little birthday hats for the cats, silly I know, and very late, but, turns out I’m a horrible-” 

“I wanna see the birthday hats,” he cuts you off.

“Really? They’re really ugly.” 

“It's my birthday gift, right?”

Five minutes later, you and Minho are seated on the floor, legs crisscrossed, three perplexed cats before you, and on their heads, obnoxiously neon green hats.

“They look so…” you tilt your head, assessing the view before you. 

“Stupid?” Minho suggests, eliciting a startled snort from you that swiftly transforms into an almost maniac cackle, which in turn, catches Minho off guard. He gazes at you bewilderedly before succumbing to a fit of giggles, which intensifies your laughter, as you punctuate his shoulder with light hits, tears streaming down your face in an attempt to regain composure.

One hundred matches light up in Minho’s heart at the sight, all at once.

“My God, they look so stupid, I’m so sorry,” you laugh harder, your body collapsing to the ground, hands tightly clutching your stomach. 

They can laugh again, the house sighs in relief, something other than sobs can still echo within my walls. 

Day 22. 

“I miss the sea,” you sigh softly, cradling a cup of chamomile tea between your hands. Minho, absorbed in his book, glances up to find a melancholic expression etched on your face—a poignant blend of sorrow and longing that he knows weighs heavy on your heart. 

“We saw it over at the bridge, no?” he ventures tentatively, setting the book aside on the living room table.

“Yes, but I miss the sand, and the waves lapping at my feet. I miss feeling the sea, not just seeing it.” 

“I’d take you, in a heartbeat,” he says assuredly, ready to bring you the moon if only you dare ask. “But it's far, and you can't get into a car.” 

“I can try.” 

“You can?” he questions, hope budding in his eyes.

“I mean- I want to, it's just… I don't know,” you retract, nails drumming anxiously against your cup, gaze lost into the amber liquid.  

“Talk to me, yeah?” he smiles softly, draping a reassuring hand on your arm. His thumb swipes across the slate of your shoulder, and an impossible knot in your throat untangles. 

“The accident took a lot from me. My health, my memories, a year of moving forward.” You quiet down, eyes meeting his in a barely veiled vulnerability. Silence speaks of your hardest loss— him. 

“Can you help me get the sea back?”

Minho’s radiant smile is louder than any spoken agreement.

…

Thread by thread, drop by drop, your fears unravel as Minho lowers all the car windows’ before gently guiding you into the car seat, dispelling any prospect of feeling confined within the vehicle. 

He remembers everything, even the panic that gripped your being when you went into his enclosed car, nearly a month ago. 

“Can I blindfold you? It might help, so you wouldn't see the car lights since it’s night,” he suggests.

“Yeah, that'd be nice,” you agree, your hand lightly gripping the car seat.

“Hey, hey,” he calls out gently, “I'm here, okay? The second you feel overwhelmed I'm stopping this car.”

“Will you drive safely?” 

“Of course. I promise you.” 

Your nod is met with the softening of Minho's eyes, as he delicately tucks a strand of your hair behind the curve of your ear. 

“I'm proud of you,” he whispers, tone laden with so much tenderness, love, that your throat becomes a garden, vocal cords bound not by thorns but the delicate blossoming of flowers. 

With a gentle touch, Minho wraps a tie around your eyes, cocooning you in a tranquil darkness. His hand seeks yours instinctively, fingers intertwining with yours akin to the wind weaving through the strands of your hair.

In this moment, every fracture within you is delicately filled by Minho.

He starts driving, a soothing piano instrumental playing out of the car’s speakers- his hand still in yours. “Breathe,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing a soothing path across your palm. 

“Follow my touch.” A gentle sweep to the right, an invitation to inhale slowly. “In,” his voice guides, and you draw in a deep breath.

Another caress to the left, a silent directive to release your confined breath. “Out,” he whispers, and you exhale, surrendering to the rhythm orchestrated by his thumb.

He raises the music’s volume, his touch becoming a maestro, speaking silently to you. You’re grateful for it, for the way in which he’s driving- avoiding curbs and speeding, safely, making the wheels float across the road. 

Your heart still constricts in your chest, anxiety squeezing your veins, bleeding them dry, but you focus on Minho’s thumb, you let it guide you, like a compass navigating the dark tunnels of your heart. 

“We're almost there,” he reassures as he stops by a red light. 

“I look silly, right?” you reply, giggling a bit. 

“What?” he asks, confused. 

“I can feel you looking,” you clarify. 

“How so?”

“My right cheek is tingling.” 

Minho snorts incredulously. “What does that even mean?”

“You have a piercing stare. You're like melting through my skin and vibrating my bones.”

“Idiot,” he chuckles. My my my idiot, Minho grieves to say once again. The human heart is peculiar, he learns day after day, mourning the loss of a myriad of minuscule things, even words. 

“And, you don't look silly,” he clears his throat minutes later, as he finally parks by the beach.  

“You look pretty,” he utters, unraveling your blindfold, and you blink, caught between the sudden light and the weight of his words. “You always do,” he concludes, a whispered confession that lingers like the afterglow of a sunset, painting your world in golden hues.

“Minho, I…” you trail off, eyes landing on the vast sea ahead, blending into the sky in an alluring shade of turquoise. “We're here!” you shout bewildered, a magnificent grin on your face. 

“We are,” Minho smiles, drinking in the delight in your expression. 

“Oh my god I missed the sea!” you giggle as you undo your seatbelt, quickly opening the car’s door and taking off running. 

Minho follows closely behind, captivated, as he watches you glide across the shore, the sand ricocheting off the soles of your shoes. You look like a fairy, bending the wind to your will, coaxing it into a choreography that mirrors the rhythm of your movements, your messy footprints marking your pathway to happiness once again. 

Upon the sand, you finally settle down, and Minho walks over, sitting beside you. Both of you quietly gaze ahead, entranced by the moon's silver glow caressing the water’s surface. Each shimmering wave resembles glistening diamonds, a celestial mirror reflecting the lights in the sky.

“Have I ever told you why I love the sea?” you speak after a while, tone softer, more content. 

“You did.” 

“Can I tell you again?” you say. Can I tell you what I still remember? He understands. 

“Of course.” 

"There was a beach near our home, back then," you reminisce, a nostalgic aura enveloping your words. “And whenever I felt lonely I used to go there and watch the waves, to calm me down. But, one time, I was really overwhelmed so I ended up crying. And then, coincidentally, it started raining too.” 

Your eyes widen slightly, a hint of amusement in your voice. “At that moment, I chuckled at the timing, how the sky was crying with me.”

“Ever since that day, I liked to believe that the sea is made up of the sky’s tears, the ones that fell in sync with those of humans, so it'd comfort us. And the tears grew from a pond to a river, to a vast ocean, as humans cried more and more. That's why sometimes the sea’s waters are gentle because those are tears of happiness falling somewhere. Sometimes they're stormy, since someone is crying out of anger. Sometimes they're melancholic, just relentlessly crashing against the shore, because someone is in pain. Like we are.”

A tranquil hush falls over the night as you quiet down, before turning around to meet Minho’s teary eyes, mirroring yours.

“And if the sea persists through tempests and tranquility, if it goes on despite the myriad of emotions it holds within, then so will we.”

Hope isn't fragile, as Minho once believed. Hope scrapes its bloody palms against the rough surface as it climbs defiantly to the pinnacle once again. Hope picks out rugged stones with weathered hands and builds a home out of them. Hope is strong, it clutches onto the thinnest threads so we’d endure and endure once more. As many times as we need to. 

“Well, the sky isn't crying right now,” Minho notes.

“I know,” you smile softly, “Because we're holding on to hope.” 

Day 26. 

Under the soft glow of the TV, Dori settles comfortably on your shoulders, nuzzling her tiny nose onto your face every now and then. Soonie and Doongie are a bit far away, playing with a piece of yarn, captivated by its vibrant red threads. 

It is an ordinary, comforting setting to watch a movie with Minho, on a Sunday night, a bowl of popcorn nestled on his lap while his cats lounge around. So familiar that the world around you blurs, like the vague brushes of an impressionist painting— a vivid déjà-vu sensation clinging to your body. You’ve lived this scene before. You want to live it again, now and in the future. More and more. 

However something is different— your skin tingles, a buzzing sensation that travels from thigh to knee to hand, as if your body knows that something’s amiss. Minho’s touch perhaps, his palm casually resting upon your skin. 

You don’t know where this urge is coming from— to lay your head on his shoulder, to have him run his fingers through your hair. Even more, to lose yourself in the nutmeg and peppermint notes of his cologne, to disintegrate your worries into his hold and rest. 

“Would you mind if some of my friends came over?” Minho speaks up suddenly, cutting off your trailing train of thought. 

“Hm?” you hum absentmindedly before clearing your throat. “I mean, no, I don't mind. Who are they?”

“Han and Chan. They’ve been asking about you for a while now.” 

“Sure, this is your home.”

“It is yours too,” he says, gaze locking onto yours. His eyes are like a dark tapestry woven with threads of stardust- you’d never tire of looking into them, into the universe they seem to cradle within. 

Do you know that there is a galaxy inside you? You almost slip out, words in an urgent race against your mind. You barely stop them at the tip of your tongue, before smiling and peeling your eyes away from his, painfully, like scratching a burn scab long before it heals. 

…

“They’re here,” Minho announces as someone knocks on the door. 

“Okay,” you smile, a tad nervous. You’re not even sure what for. 

“If they annoy you too much tell me, I’ll kick them out,” he reassures, raising his brows playfully at you. 

“That's mean,” you giggle, albeit soothed by his words.

“They already love you,” he grabs your wrist, his thumb gently swiping over your pulse. “No need to be worried.” 

He drops it, as though a countdown is ingrained into his brain— never to touch you for more than ten seconds. Wouldn't it be selfish, pathetic even, to ask him for more? 

As Minho heads to open the door, you linger in the living room, idly fidgeting with the hem of your sweatshirt. It is a weird circumstance to greet strangers who know you— you may have brushed against their shoulders in an alley and not known who they were. 

Your thoughts dissolve as two men saunter into the living room, stopping in their tracks once their eyes land on you. They’re both beautiful– that is the first thing you note, closely followed by how relieved they seem to see you. Simultaneous soft sighs escape them, gentle smiles blooming across their faces. Tentatively, you return the gesture.                          

Minho takes the initiative to introduce them. “Yn. This is Chan,” he points to the man on the right, clad in black from head to toe, his smile grows wider, his eyes disappearing into moon crescents, two dimples peeking gleefully on his cheeks. 

“And Han,” the younger man, sporting a Supreme t-shirt despite the cold, beams at you, highlighting his round cheeks, and an adam-apple that weirdly resembles a heart. 

“I want to hug you but Minho put us on a strict no-touch notice because of your ribs,” Han speaks first, a small pout tugging at his lips as he glances at Minho, who simply rolls his eyes at his words. 

“You can never keep something for yourself,” Minho sighs, rubbing the space between his eyebrows. You stifle an amused giggle. 

“And she technically doesn’t remember us so it’d be weird for her to hug a stranger,” Chan notes, offering you an understanding smile. 

“Hey, I didn’t mean it in a creepy way! more of ‘Oh my god I’m so happy you’re alive, thank you for still being here, I was so worried about you’.”

“But were you worried?” you ask, tilting your head to the side.

“Of course, I-”

“Then why weren’t you at my bedside?” you question, an eyebrow raised, and Minho chuckles at your words. 

“W-what?” Han asks, glancing worriedly at the two men by his side. 

“Why weren’t you there sobbing when I woke up? It doesn’t look like you were worried,” you muse, throwing a wink to Minho who walks over to you.

“Right, you should’ve sent her a pic of you crying,” Minho adds, as you drape a hand on his shoulder. 

“A picture for every day you didn’t come see me,” you say solemnly as Han’s face grows paler by the second. 

“I-I didn’t, I really was worried, I swear, I kept asking Minho every day about you and…” he trails off as giddy smiles break out on your face and Minho’s before you both burst out laughing. 

“You guys are evil,” Han laments, as Chan pats his back in faux sympathy, a string of giggles falling from his full lips. 

“I’m sorry. we made you dinner to make up for it,” you grin and Minho looks at you pointedly. 

“He made you dinner,” you correct with a huff, and Minho smiles, satisfied, raising his brows smugly at his two friends. 

“Let’s choose a movie then!” Han claps, turning to the TV as Minho sidles by his side.

“I’ll set up the table,” Chan announces.

“I’ll help you,” you offer, and he nods, clearly grateful for your assistance.

You’re taking out four plates from the cupboard, Chan effortlessly bringing out the glasses, clearly familiar with the nooks and crannies of your home, when he suddenly speaks.

“How are you, Yn?” 

“Do you want the truth?” you ask back, and he grins. “Always.”

“I’m okay. Right now. I don’t know if I’ll still be tomorrow, you know? It all fluctuates so much.” 

“Mm, I understand,” he says, and something about his tone indicates that he isn’t saying this just to comfort you. “And that’s okay too. What you went through wasn’t easy, but good times will come again. They always do, you know, just like the sun always comes back after the rain.”

“The sun,” you repeat, as you glance out at the living room, where Minho is laughing at something Han just said, his head tipped back, bunny teeth peeking out. 

Perhaps the sun rays were by your side all along. 

“Thank you, Chan,” you beam at him. “Truly, for being worried about me too.”

“It's nothing to thank us for. We care about you, even though you don’t remember us,” he pouts, a hand on his heart in mock offense. 

“Hey, it’s not my fault I got amnesia!” you chuckle. 

"Excuses!" he drawls with a playful tone as he exits the kitchen, and you can't help but laugh quietly to yourself. You recognize what he's doing—making light of your accident to alleviate the weight on your heart.

The night blurs in your memory, but this time it is tinged with happiness and laughter. The three men recall fun stories of their time together, a seven-year bond rooted in love and care, albeit silently. You witnessed it in the details—Chan ensuring the food was on their plates first, Minho peeling shrimp for Han, the latter rubbing Chan’s arms when he complained of being cold.

Then you saw it directed towards you– how they put on the movie you wanted and watched in anticipation as you took the first bite of food, draped the fuzziest blanket around you, and rushed to your side simultaneously when you stumbled on your feet.

You were loved, although you didn’t know of it. The accident took away your memories but it didn’t plague theirs. 

“Thank you,” you beam at the two men as you walk them to the door. Opening your arms wide, you invite them in for a hug. Han embraces you first, a large smile on his face, and you gently beckon Chan in too. “Easy,” he whispers in Han's ears, careful not to put any pressure on your ribs. They both pat your back as you wrap an arm around their respective shoulders before leaning away.

“I’ll call you,” Minho bids them farewell, tipping his chin forward. They wave to him before finally leaving

You close the door, leaning against the auburn wood. Minho watches you, a soft smile playing on his face.

“Good?” he inquires, closing the distance between you.

“Mm, good,” you reply with a smile as he halts just an inch away. His intoxicating scent envelops you, permeating your bones and flowing through your veins like liquid warmth.

A torrent of memories floods your mind—images of you pressed against this same door. It is dark, a stark contrast from your first memory, a lone lunar beam of light slashing through the night. Minho’s hands grip your waist with a fevered urgency, while yours entwines around the nape of his neck, in passion, in hunger, almost as if you were deprived of him for so long.

You angle his mouth closer to yours, his lips pressing against your own repeatedly, a desperate attempt to brand the contours of his mouth into your soul. His hair, a cascade of midnight silk, tickles your fingers with an electric charge, like the crackling of the air before a storm. His tongue sweeps across your lower lip, seeking entrance, one you willingly surrender, white flag easily thrown to the ground. With every kiss, your bodies meld together, so much so that you could merge into the door, disappearing into the shadows as one.

“What's wrong?” Minho breaks your trance and you snap out of your reverie, a bright flush adorning your cheeks. 

“N-nothing,” you stammer. 

“You’re all red, do you have a fever?” he asks, coming closer, his hand pressed to your forehead. His woody scent envelops you once again– everything about him is enticing— his cologne, his lips on you, his fingertips dragging underneath your shirt, his eyes piercing yours, undressing you before his hands ever could.

“Yn?” he questions and you grab his jaw, angling his face away from you. 

“Stay like this, don’t look at me for a moment.”

“What?”

“Just… please,” you say and he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief, and yet he complies, his side profile now facing you.

How does he live with these memories each time he looks at you? 

You take in a deep breath, focusing on his silhouette. It might seem counterproductive to fixate on the same man consuming your thoughts, but how could you not when he was mere centimeters away, his eyes averted from yours?

You exhale softly as your gaze glides along the graceful curve of his neck, a solitary mole resting just beneath his sculpted jawline, leading the way to his plump lips, a cupid's bow delicately carved by the hands of the divine archer himself — crafted to be kissed, to be adored.

Your eyes trail up, tracing the high bridge of his nose, another mole perched at its pinnacle, sharp and smooth as if chiseled by a master sculptor, one who dedicated months to perfecting his artistry. His eyes are a mesmerizing brown, punctuated with long lashes that flutter like the delicate wings of an angel with each slow blink.

Minho sweeps aside strands of his hair, his fingertip delicately fluffing them upwards. It dawns on you, a sudden revelation of the necessity of art — to immortalize such beauty for generations to come.

You imagine admirers gazing upon Minho, sighing in sheer amazement, their hearts tightening with emotions that words struggle to encapsulate in the face of this epitome of beauty. Inside and out, you reflect, inside and out. 

“You told them not to drink around me, right?” you ask softly.

A blush grows from the base of Minho's neck to the tip of his ears, like roots expanding into the soil. He sighs before finally looking at you.

“I did. How’d you figure it out?” he wonders.

“I asked Han if he wanted a drink, but he refused so categorically that I assumed he didn't like alcohol. But most of his stories were of him drunk,” you chuckle quietly, and Minho shrugs sheepishly.

“We get loud when we drink. You don’t like that,” he says simply as if it’s a given, an absolute certainty that he’d do anything but make you uncomfortable.

He's beautiful, the light of his heart basking his face in a glow that even Michaelangelo's skillful hands wouldn’t be able to replicate.  

And he loves you. 

Till when? Your heart sounds out in alarm. Till when will he love you? What if the grains of sand slip away from the hourglass before you can reciprocate his love? Two stars colliding at disparate speeds, never converging into a singular entity, destined to erupt and scatter into cosmic dust.

How long do you have left? How many more days will he love you for? 

How many more days do you have to love him back? 

Day 30. 

Minho is sick. 

He tried his best to conceal it from you, as he came back from his dance studio, strands of his hair clinging to his forehead, a thin sheen of perspiration above his right eyebrow. Yet, his uncharacteristic silence betrayed him, as he quietly retreated into the shower, emerging with a solemn expression on his face. 

Seated on the bed, book long forgotten by your side, you bit your lip tentatively. “You're okay?” you inquired, perched on the edge, concern etched in your gaze.

“Mm, just tired,” Minho responded, his attempt at reassurance falling short as he laid down on the floor mattress. “Can you turn off the lights?” he softly requested. “Hurts my eyes.”

“Yeah, of course. Will you sleep now?”

“I think so.”

“Okay then. Good night, Minho,” you uttered gently, the veins in your heart tangled with worry. “Good night,” he whispered in return.

In the stillness of the night, you were roused by soft whimpers escaping Minho's lips. He writhed in apparent discomfort, his features contorted with an unseen anguish. His pupils moved furiously underneath the thin layer of his eyelids, betraying the tumultuous thoughts raging in his mind. 

You've never seen Minho so disrupted in his sleep, mouth slightly hung agape as if he struggled to breathe in the depths of his dreams. Your worry for him came back to haunt you ten times fold.

You lean over the bed, gently shaking his shoulders. “Minho, wake up.”

“No... no-no, don't-don't go,” he whispers, caught in the vines of a restless dream, seemingly wrapping around his mind, trapping him in. “Minho, come on wake up,” your pleas grow more insistent, but so do his. “Don't go, s-stay,” he implores, voice broken, prompting you to abandon your bed and join him on his mattress.

“Minho!” you call out, shaking him until his eyes finally flutter open. He gasps for air— as if inhaling his first breath on this earth, shooting upright, wide-eyed and disoriented. 

His gaze locks on yours and he instantly cradles your face in his sweaty hands, bringing you closer to him until your noses bump into one another. “You didn't go,” he whispers, and you shake your head. “I'm here.”

“Fuck,” he swears, releasing his hold on you and sinking back into the pillow. 

“Minho, what's wrong?” you ask softly, afraid you're treading on stormy waters.

“I… I don't know. I don't feel good,” He admits, fingers tugging at the collar of his shirt, as if the fabric morphed into a vise around his throat. A flush creeps up his neck, red dots splashing across his ivory skin. A droplet of sweat traces a slow path down his temple, as the white fabric clings uncomfortably to his warm skin.

“Do you have a fever?”you ask, placing your hand on his forehead, sensing an unusual heat radiating beneath your touch. “Minho, where is your thermometer?”

“Bedside drawer,” he breathes out.

Fetching the thermometer, you gently tug at his chin, opening his mouth to check his temperature. “Stay still”" you instruct, watching anxiously as the numbers climb steadily.

“40°C, fuck Minho, you have a really high fever,” you exclaim as he shuts his eyes, an unmistakable weariness claiming him, rendering him malleable, akin to the silk pillow he's resting on. 

“I feel dizzy,” he admits, burying his face into the covers. 

“You need to take a cold shower now,” you urge a sudden lump materializes in your throat at the sight of his suffering. 

“It's okay, I'll just sleep.”

“No, no, it's far from okay!” you almost exclaim, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes as if you were peeling an onion—your own emotional layers unraveling, exposing the depth of your concern for Minho.

“Minho, please, you have a really high fever,” you plead, feeling an unexpected surge of panic at his unwillingness to cooperate.

“Yn… are you worried about me?”

“I am.”

“It feels nice. Please be worried about me more,” he mumbles, eyes still closed, eliciting an incredulous laugh from you. 

“You are so unbelievable, my god,” you pull him up and he doesn't resist, nearly stumbling on his feet.

“Okay?” you ask, running your hand through the nape of his neck.

“Mm,” he hums, burying his head in your shoulder. “Sleepy.”

“I know, you'll sleep after the shower,” you reassure softly, guiding him to the bathroom, his entire body weight leaning onto yours. There, you turn on the light, your right hand holding Minho's waist tightly as you lead him to settle atop the toilet.

“Can I take off your shirt?”

“Are you planning to undress me?” he smiles lazily, hooded eyes locked onto yours.

“No, I just-” you stammer, but he’s quick to cut you off.

“Because I don't mind.”

“I can't believe you're flirting with me while you're sick.”

“I always am, I can't help it,” he says, raising his hands as a silent signal for you to remove his shirt.

“You're awfully candid tonight,” you observe, seizing the edges of his shirt and drawing it over his head. His tongue glides across his lips, his gaze drawing tantalizingly slow over your form, and you clench his shirt tighter in your hands. He's the one with the fever, yet it's you who feels ablaze, flames of longing licking at your every sense.

“Come here,” you beckon, the icy water now flowing as you turn the knob. He reaches his hand out to you, and you grasp it, guiding him under the frigid cascade, soaking you both.

“C-cold,” he stutters, and you nod, your breath escaping in short, visible puffs.

“I-I know, just a little longer,” you reassure.

2 a.m. is a peculiar time to shower, the water droplets echoing against the tiled floor is the only sound that can be heard. That, and your labored breaths in tandem with the chilly embrace of the water filling your bones. The quiet makes way for other unspoken sentiments to surge forth, electric and palpable, heightened by the way Minho gazes at you through the liquid curtain, his hands clinging tightly to your arms for stability.

Droplets of water weave seamlessly through his hair, and an unexpected pang of jealousy grips you— you envy the liberty of those water beads as they thread through his locks, tracing the contours of his broad shoulders, nestling in the enticing recesses of his collarbones, without fearing the consequences of such acts. You don't dare look further down, wary that the rivulets on his skin may lead to your own undoing. Instead, you close your eyes thanking the stars that you weren’t wearing a white shirt, which would have turned translucent by now. You don’t even want to contemplate the consequences of such a premise.

After a few minutes, you turn off the water, stepping out of the shower and swiftly enveloping Minho in a towel.

“Go change, I have some spare clothes in here. Oh, and don't wear a top,” you instruct.

Minho chuckles quietly and you roll your eyes. “Shh. Make sure to dry your hair too.”

Taking your time in getting dressed, you peel off each wet layer, depositing them into the washing machine, before donning a spare pajama from a cabinet. You stroll to the kitchen to pour Minho a glass of water and retrieve medicine from the drawer, lingering at the counter long enough to ensure he'd be dressed by the time you return to the room.

You knock softly before opening the door, and the sight of Minho freezes you in your tracks. The room basks in warm, orange hues from the lamp's glow, playing upon Minho's skin and casting enticing shadows on the contours of his muscles—a masterpiece created by the skilled hands of light. His toned arms rest between his legs, back against the headboard, and an inexplicable urge to flee washes over you, your heart sinking to your knees in the face of his long-avoided vision of beauty.

You swallow the tumultuous thoughts raging within you before handing him his medicine, which he drinks diligently. Pressing your palm to his forehead, you're relieved to find a slight reduction in his temperature. “It will go down more once the medicine takes effect,” you assure.

“One of my students had a nasty cold. I think I got it from him,” he explains, and you nod, your hand lingering near his. Your fingers twitch as his pinky brushes against yours—akin to birds fluttering their wings in anticipation, awaiting, aching for a release from their cage, at last.

“I'm tired,” Minho sighs, closing his eyes. “Lay down,” you gently instruct, and he complies, resting his head on the pillow.

“It's cold,” he whines, swaying like a child throwing a bedtime tantrum. He's endearing, melting the frost that had gathered in your heart.

“You have a fever, silly,” you chuckle, pushing strands of his hair from his forehead, twirling them around. “Your hair's gotten longer,” you muse as you braid a tiny section of his bangs, only to undo it again.

“Can you play with my hair some more?” he requests softly.

“Of course,” you reply, threading your fingers through his locks, jet black as if all the stars in the sky collided, leaving behind nothing but a dark abyss.

“Please stay healthy, Min. Take care of yourself too.”

“But I like it more when you take care of me,” he pouts, before sighing shortly after. “I'll probably regret a lot of my words tomorrow, right?”

“Why is that?” 

“Because you don’t feel the same for me,” he confesses, leaving you silent, grappling with the echoes of his words. What do you feel for Minho?

The question jolts the breath from your windpipe violently, an unyielding force crashing against your lungs till the answer finds its footing on your tongue.

“Can I ask you something?” you finally speak, cringing at the sound of your voice disrupting the fragile quiet. 

“Anything.” 

“Where did your scar come from?” you inquire, gesturing towards the mark just below his belly button.

“I got surgery a long time ago. I’m kind of self-conscious about it,” he confesses, a bit shyly. 

“Really? But it’s beautiful, it looks like a strike of lightning,” you sincerely remark, coaxing a tender smile from Minho, unfolding like the gradual sunrises of autumn.

“This is exactly what you told me months ago.”

“Did I?”

“Mm, and then you traced it with your fingertips,” he grabs your hand, hovering it over his stomach. You can easily slip out of his grasp; you choose not to. 

“Like this?” you murmur, tracing his scar gently, fingertips grazing his skin like a lit fire, subtly enough not to scorch. His flesh tenses beneath your caress, muscles constricting as you navigate from right to left—a trajectory of dusty stars akin to the Milky Way, his skin soft to the touch, rippling beneath you with thinly veiled goosebumps.

“Yes,” he breathes out, his gaze wide, running furiously over your face. Yet, your attention lingers on his skin, shadows dancing across its surface, its honeyed hue a shade you wish to sear behind your eyelids. Your hands ascend and descend, mapping his body which blushes in response, as if his very being memorized your touch, imprinting your fingerprints onto its memory. You slide down his forearms, pausing over his fragile veins, seemingly offering you his life.

Silence envelops you, punctuated only by the weighty exhales escaping you both, for there are feelings that words cannot encapsulate, no matter how much human languages strive to, ultimately succumbing to the profundity of silence— the one language only souls comprehend.

Your hands ascend to his neck, thumb grazing the tender skin cradling his pulse. It resonates throughout your bones, echoing from his being to yours as if you’re harboring two lives within you.

“You… you could've kissed me over at the bridge,” you whisper, bringing to light the question that’s been lingering at the back of your mind. “Why didn't you?”

“I wanted you to kiss me because you wanted to. Not because you longed for our past or our future. I wanted you to want me in the present,” Minho explains, vulnerability seeping into his words, like honey melting into a warm cup of tea. 

“I’m scared,” you admit, your voice a fragile murmur, even as your head leans forward, hair cascading around Minho’s face, enclosing him in an intimate curtain. Minho gently grabs your hand and cradles it against his cheek, pressing a tender kiss to the center of your palm. 

“Right now. Do you want me?” he asks simply, offering himself openly to you. 

Do you want him?

After a momentary pause, you tentatively lean in, planting a gentle kiss upon his forehead. A resonant exhale escapes him, as your lips trace a path along his cheeks, leaving behind a trail of tiny kisses. Moving to the tender skin beneath his eyes— as easily bruised as your emotions—you bestow soft pecks to it as if seeking forgiveness for every tear he shed in your name.

His eyes remained closed, his trust evident in the surrender of his being to you. The answer to your internal query is written all over his features— the hushed exhale escaping his body, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the tranquility nestled between his eyebrows. 

Yes. Yes, you do.

Your lips finally meet Minho’s in a delicate union, unmoving like rose petals folding onto one another. A surge of warmth emanates from the depths of your heart, coursing through your entire being like sunrays, submerging your soul in a tranquil white glow.

Leaning away ever so slightly, you press a tender kiss on his lower lip, enclosing it between your own. Your hand cradles his jaw, running gently through his damp strands. Your lips move against his slowly in a saccharine kiss, parting, only to meet again, in the same tenderness, perhaps a growing one as you become accustomed to the contours of his lips, to the languid moves of his mouth, following your rhythm. You were leading the dance, his lips mere puppets to your heart’s wishes. He didn't rush you, only allowed you to kiss him, whichever way you wanted. 

A pause, a moment suspended in time, your hands trembling as they rest upon his cheeks, his palm hovering above your own, offering a comforting press. The gesture reassures you in your curiosity that won’t be satiated, urging you to seal your lips on his with a tentative fervor. The world outside dissolves into a distant murmur, the seconds blending into a timeless run, you slamming the door before your worries protesting at the entrance of your mind. Tomorrow, you’ll find the answers. Tonight, you are kissing Minho.

As you press a final, lingering kiss to his velvety mouth, visions of you at peace flood your being. You see yourself sinking into the warm pool of your aunt’s country club, you see yourself walking on the beach with sand molding to the contours of your feet, you see yourself laying on the grass while observing sunrays weaving through the trees. And then, amidst your most serene memories, the act of pressing your lips to Minho stands out, the warmth of his mouth against yours eclipsing all other sensations.

Leaning away, you rest your forehead on his shoulder, and Minho's hands cradle your hair.

"Which lip balm do you use,” you giggle against his bare skin, relishing in the sweet taste of his lips.

“Yours.”

Day 31.

Minho’s nose is buried in the crook of your neck, his arm draped across the expanse of your stomach. He sinks further into you, binding himself to your body, anchoring his hold on your being. You are warm, your skin is soft to the touch and Minho doesn’t want to wake up from this tender dream, akin to plummeting into a sea of silky pillows, falling into a blanket of clouds. 

Except, he's awake, Minho realizes with a jolt. He blinks repeatedly, allowing the sunrays to stream to his eyes, his pupils dilating once they settle on you— so much their obsidian depths swallows the brown of his irises whole. You stir beneath his touch, making your cheek press upon the crown of his head. He's fully awake now, snatched from the velvet threads of his dreams made up of you, thrown into your arms once again after thirty-three days. 

A soft gasp escapes Minho’s lips, the air stolen from his lungs as if it was yours to claim. Echoes of the night replay in his mind— a fever, you tending him to me, a cold cascade of water, you tracing his scar, and then, the kiss.

You kissed him. A long shiver runs down his spine at the memory, a subtle twitch that stirs you from slumber once again. 

What does one kiss mean? The question dances wildly in Minho’s mind. More importantly, what do you want it to mean? 

Minho whines softly, closing his eyes for a few seconds, relishing in the fragrance of your hair, in the serenity that floods his being each time he’s around you. This was his most restful slumber in weeks, because you were near, his mind recognizing you, relaxing underneath your touch, drifting to a mindless sleep. 

Reluctantly, he untangles himself from you, a bittersweet departure from your arms. Work was calling his name. 

He prayed you’d call his too soon. 

….

You wake up to an empty bed, the only lingering trace of the night you spent being the tingling of your lips, as if aching to be kissed once again. You sigh, running a hand through your face. It was much easier to succumb to your heart’s wishes when it was late at night, when minho laid bare beneath your touch, so enticing in the gentlest of ways. When you were cradled by the moon’s soft glow, blanketed by the night’s cloak of darkness.

But it was light now, the sun was glaring as it streamed through the windows, exposing all the flawed ways of your mind.

What does one kiss mean? 

Nothing, if it wasn’t minho who you had kissed. If it wasn’t as tender as the meeting of your lips. 

The tomorrow you believed far quickly came, and you still beheld no answers. A few hours drifted by and you still knew nothing. What does this kiss mean? It's late afternoon and you’re strolling through the park nearby and you can't find an answer. The question rings in your mind as you sit by a bench, and you still don’t know.

“You seem preoccupied,” a voice quips up nearby and you startle. You hadn’t even noticed the man sitting by your side. His arms crossed before his chest, making impressive muscles constrict beneath the snug fabric of his black shirt, a cascade of fluffy black curls sat at the top of his head, a slight smirk etched on his lips.

“Pardon?”

“I said you seem preoccupied.”

“No i heard that,” you roll your eyes subtly, “do i know you?”

“No. You just look worried, that's all.”

“You really don’t know me?” you ask, a tad apprehensive, unsure if this was someone else your memory faulted you of. 

“No? Are you a celebrity of some sorts?” he inquires, tone much more cheerful, angling his body towards you.

“No, i’m not,” you giggle, before quieting down, an exhausted sigh escaping your body. “Is it that obvious then?”

“Yeah. I’m afraid so,” he pouts sympathetically, tone almost desolate and you huff, burying your face in your hands.

“Do you need help with something?” he offers after a while, his concern evident in the frown of his brows. You are comforted by the anonymity of talking to a stranger, you were but a blank canvas to him. You wouldn't see him again, anyways. 

“I feel lost. I can't seem to find the answers I'm looking for.”

“Maybe you’re just not asking the right questions.”

Oh. 

The guy claps his hands suddenly, long before you could dwell on his words and their implications

“I actually have a question for you!” 

“Ask away.”

“Do you want to go on a date with me?”

“No?” you chuckle, amusement dripping from your voice. “I don't know you?” 

“That's the point of a date.”

“Are you this bored?” you smile, arching an eyebrow at him. 

“I'm not bored. I just need to take my mind off things,” he shrugs, a slight smirk on his face. but you somehow see beyond it, right into the dull twinkle of his eyes. Maybe he also couldn’t find the answers he was looking for.

“So you're using me?” you fake outrage and he giggles, a high pitched sound that reverberates through the playground, making some kids nearby stare at you. You stifle a surprised laugh. 

“I'm not using you if I tell you upfront why I asked you out.”

“You are right, but i decline your kind offer,” you say solemnly and he nods, shaking his head in defeat.  

“Here is my card, in case you change your mind. Or need a little escape, call me,” he smiles, handing you a sleek black card before getting up and dusting his pants. “See you,” he says, as if he was sure you'd call him back. you stare in disbelief at his retreating figure, before glancing down at the card. 

Mr. Seo Changbin, you read, CEO of Gold’s Gym— the largest gym branch in the country.

Oh wow.

The amused smile lingers on your lips as you gaze ahead, lost in thought, contemplating the words spoken by Changbin. Maybe he was right; perhaps you are afraid of asking the right questions. Sucking in a deep breath, you decide to take the longer route home, eventually finding yourself outside your favorite bakery; the one you discovered on one of your many walks with Minho.

You go to open its door when an unexpected tingling at the back of your neck freezes you in your tracks. Your heart tightens in your chest as you turn around slowly, greeted by the sharp eyes of two familiar faces—Lia and Mari, your coworkers from before your accident. A tentative smile graces your lips, but the alarms of warning in your mind intensify. 

“Hey, yn!” 

“Hey, guys,” you greet back, taking a step backwards from them. 

“How have you been since… You know, your accident,” Lia pouts, but the question lacks sincerity, as if they were wearing masks before you, concealing their true intentions. You wonder which one they'll put on next.  

“Good, i’ve been good,” you force a smile, as their eyes move up and down your body, judgment dripping from their gaze.

“We wanted to come see you but we didn’t know if you were still at your listed address. Since your boyfriend lives there.”

“Oh, um, yeah, I still live there.”

“But didn’t you forget about him?” Lia feigns ignorance and you feel anxiety picking at your skin like relentless protruding needles. You want to run. 

“Lia that’s rude. I think he's her ex-boyfriend now," Mari chuckles, mockery palpable in her tone.

“Poor Minho, he must suffer a lot. Say hey to him from me,"Lia smiles, a chilling feline grin, her eyes narrowing down like a hawk peering at his prey. 

“I will.”

“We’ll see you at work. If you’re still able to keep up with the tasks,” they leave, ugly laughs echoing after them, and an urge to throw up overtakes you, the scent of pastries furthering your nausea. You hasten your steps toward your building.

You’re almost safe, almost, keys trembling in your hand as you struggle to enter your apartment, when the door adjacent to you opens. Your neighbors smile at you, although it is a gesture tinged with pity. You painfully smile back before slamming the door.

Yeart hammering in your chest, you press your back against the door, hand clawing at your throat. 

“Did you know she got into a car accident, and apparently she forgot her boyfriend?”

“Really? They were so cute though.”

“Yeah, it’s a shame.”

Their words suffocate you, stepping atop your lungs, syllables choking you from within. Is this what everything thought of you? Did they all pity you for the accident? For forgetting your lover? Did they see you as a burden, a parasite plaguing his life? Is this what Han and Chan saw when their eyes lingered on you? Is this what the librarian and florist whispered to each other each time you passed by? 

You didn’t know these people and yet they had their minds set on you, fixated storylines you couldn’t change, no matter how much you tried to rewrite them.

Your thoughts spiral like the unloosened screws of a ticking clock. Minho, the unanswered questions, the expectations of others—everything converges in the base of your mind, making your ears ring cacophonically within your skull.

You slide down the door, fingers trembling as you take out your phone then Changbin’s card from your pocket. You dial his number with haste. You needed a breather, to talk to someone who knew nothing of you, of who you were, of who you could be. 

“Hello?” his voice booms clearly through the phone.

“Changbin,” you breathe out. “Let's go on a date tomorrow.”

You were asleep when minho came back from work, your back turned towards him, soft exhales escaping your body. He didn't want to disturb you, so, he made sure to come earlier the next day, a strawberry and cream pastry in his hand that he knew you loved. Perhaps, you’d both talk about your kiss today, what it meant for you both. 

But, he doesn’t find you home. The only indication that you had just left was the lingering scent of your perfume, tickling his nose as if to mock him. Poor minho— the gardenia and honey tones spelled out in the air; the one fragrance you strictly reserve for dates. The one you used to put for him.

It looked like you found your answer after all. 

Day 33. 

“Did I keep you waiting?” 

“No, just in time,” you smile as Changbin pulls the chair in front of you, settling down with ease, a pang of confidence coloring his movements.

“How are you, today?” 

“Better, i think,” you falter under his scrutinizing gaze, your facade cracking. “I don't know, it’s all complicated,” you sigh and he nods, signaling for the waiter to take your drinks order. Chai latte for you, hot chocolate for him. 

“Spill, what’s preoccupying you?” he leans forward, arms crossed on the table. 

“You don’t even know my name,” you giggle, looking around at the warm interior. Cozy, faint music playing in the background, taupe chairs and amber tables, the smell of cinnamon rolls wafting through the air. Minho would like it here. 

“What's your name?”

“Yn.”

“Okay, Yn,” he emphasizes, a slight smirk on his face. “Spill.”

You shake your head as the waiter places down your drinks, wrapping your fingers around the heated cup, hoping the warmth would seep into your being through your palm lines. 

“Did you want to become a therapist by any chance?” you muse, arching an eyebrow at him.

“No, it’s just fixing others' problems helps me forget my own,” he winks and you snort at his honesty. it was admirable, how frank he was to a complete stranger. 

“Fine, it’s a long story, but basically…” you lick your lips, wondering what’s the best way to go on about this. “I got into a car accident and I lost my memory of the past year and so.”

Changbin winces at your words and you sigh. “Yeah. Except I was in a relationship before…”

“And you totally forgot about it?”

“I did. It hurt him a lot.” 

Changbin nods in understanding, taking a sip of his drink. He places his chin on his palm, carefully eyeing you. 

“But how does that make you feel?” 

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You're the one who lost your memories after all.” 

“I feel guilty for forgetting such a relationship.” 

“Why is that?”

“Because everyday i can see why I fell in love with him.”

“And you don't love him now?” 

“No,” you quickly say before pausing, shoulders dropping under the weight of your questioning. “I don't know. It's complicated.”

Changbin absentmindedly tugs at the charms of his bracelet, gaze flicking down to his wrist for a couple seconds, before locking on yours intently.  

“Describe him to me in one sentence.”

“You sound like my annoying French teacher,” you roll your eyes and he huffs, not offended in the least. “Look, I just want to know my competition.”

“Do you have a retort for everything?”

“What can I say? I'm witty and all that,” he shrugs confidently and you giggle before quieting down, muling over his question. “In a sentence…” you muse, fingers drumming along your cup. You don't even realize that a fond smile has unfolded on your lips, but Changbin does.

“He's the light rain that falls during spring, that makes the flower bloom and the smell of earth waft through the air. He brings things back to life, in a way.” 

Changbin smiles softly, tilting his head to the side. “Can you really not see it, or are you hiding the truth because you're scared?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Yn, he brought you back to life.” 

“I… no.” you pause, voice faltering. “Did he?” 

You see Minho pushing you on a wheelchair to your home. Minho protecting you from your mind. Minho washing your hair. Minho making you tea. Minho baring his soul to you. Minho helping you cook. Minho bringing the sea to you. Minho holding your hand. Minho comforting you before comforting himself. Minho forgiving you so you'd forgive yourself. Minho devastating himself so you'd piece your heart together. Minho, minho, minho.  

“Fuck, he did,” you whisper in realization, as a grand feeling swells in your heart suddenly, pushing your heart against the confines of your ribs. Flowers bloom into your entire body, petals melding into the coursing blood in your veins, butterflies fluttering their delicate wings across your chest, an effulgent light flooding in like the sun was spilled inside your very core. 

“Aren’t I so smart,” Changbin grins, satisfied at the awestruck expression on your face.

“What should I do?” you ask anxiously, gripping the edges of the table. 

“Go talk to him. Don't waste any more time.”

“You are right, oh my god,” you grab your purse, standing up abruptly. “I have to go, I…”

“It's okay, don't worry about me, I'm always the side chick,” he sighs in faux sadness and you giggle, swatting his shoulder. 

“Thank you so much. I'll repay you for this, I promise!” you start walking before stopping and turning around. 

“Oh and Changbin?”

“Yes?”

“You know what to do too. They made you that bracelet right? You haven't taken your eyes off of it.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, “those are my lines.”

“They are mine now too,” Laughter dances from your lips as you flee the café, taking off running to your home. It was near, merely a five-minute walk, nestled beside the playground where you encountered Changbin. Yet, urgency propels your steps, a fervent need to reach Minho swiftly. You had wasted thirty-three days, three million seconds that could’ve been spent with Minho. You don’t know how many more breaths the universe might extend, what if the stars tire of your reluctance and blow the winds of his love to another soul? You couldn’t stomach it. 

You climb up the stairs, chest heaving, breaths escaping your being in an erratic rhythm. you didn't even know what to say, your words remained unscripted, unsure of what confessions will spill forth when your eyes will meet Minho's. Yet, you're not worried. You know that whatever surfaces would be surging from your heart. 

What you don’t anticipate is for an uncharacteristic silence to find you at home, the scent of your perfume faintly wafting into the air. Minho sat in the living room, a bag by his side, his head downcast. The cats watching you from the corner of the room. 

A desert- dry sensation clings to your mouth, your tongue heavy as if crafted from lead. Your once vibrant excitement extinguishes, much like a match blown out, leaving only a lingering stench behind. 

“Minho?” 

“Yn,” he responds, eyes actively avoiding yours. “I was waiting for you. I... I'll be gone for a few days, a week at most.”

“What? Where to?”

“I already told my parents to come pick up the cats so you don't have to worry about feeding them. The fridge is stacked, so you-” his voice falters, “so don't worry about that either.”

“Minho... what-what are you saying?”

“I need time away, alone. I'm sorry, I tried, I tried so hard, Yn, but there is only so much I can take,” he whispers, and your heart shatters, tiny million pieces blown away by the wind.

“Minho, look at me,” you crouch before him, your hands resting on his knees. He still avoids your gaze.

“Minho, please,” you plead, and his eyes finally lock on yours. They glisten with tears, reflecting light akin to a celestial mirror.

“My heart hurts so much, but it's not your fault. Loving me once doesn't mean you'll love me again, and it's okay if you want to see other people. I just... I need to go somewhere, for a little. I need to make room for the pain because it's overwhelming me,” he confesses, his words eating at your insides. Was it too late? Have you lost him?

Minho gently takes away your hands before standing up. Fear overwhelms you as you watch his shoulders drop, his eyes glazing over the walls one last time. He will come back, but not here, not to you. He's bidding goodbye to the home and you because you killed his hope. He would leave everything behind but echoes of him that you'd be sentenced to hear alone, every day, every night.

“Minho,” you seize his wrist, “Minho, don't go.”

"Why?" he asks in the smallest voice you've heard from him. He's like a river cut off by a dam, yearning to run back home, to flow the way it used to, back to you. His heart rings loudly in his ears, pain overwhelming him, yet your touch calms him down. You are the knife and the medicine, the scorch and the cooling balm; you are everything at once.

“I'll make room in your heart, I'll take out all the bad weeds and start again. Just don't go.”

“What do you mean?” He's breathless, hope inflating in his heart, clouds parting to reveal the sun.

“I know things won't go back to the way they used to. I don't think I'll ever remember everything, but I want you to tell me,” there is a lump growing in your throat, but you push it away. Your voice breaks and cracks, yet you still speak. You need him to know.

“I want you to take me to all the places we've visited and then tell me how we fell in love in them. I want you to show me how I loved you,” your hand trails down his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, pulling him closer. “I want to learn you, what you like, what you hate, what makes you angry and what makes your heart flutter.”

“And I want to love you, not because you love me, but because my heart chose you," your hand travels up his arm, settling right down at his cheek. Your thumb swipes across his tender skin. “I choose you over and over again. It's you, Minho, it's always been you.”

“You want me again?” he says tentatively, eyes wide, pouring onto yours—your galaxy to love, to admire, to peer into for the rest of your life.

“I want you. Please don't go.”

“Swear it, please.”

Instead of ephemeral words, you softly press your lips to his, as you did last night. “I swear,” you whisper against his mouth. “I'm falling in love with you,” you peck his lips, hand snaking up against his neck, moving his mouth closer to yours. “Not falling,” you say, pressing your forehead to his, nuzzling his nose against your own. “I'm coming back. I'm coming home.”

“You came back to me,” he whispers, voice hoarse.

“I'll always do,” you promise, a grin overtaking your mouth. “Can you kiss me, Minho?”

Minho blinks in amazement, his eyes darting all over your face, each blink resembling the capture of an image. He's stitching this moment into his mind, the hue of your cheeks and the gleam in your eyes. He missed the way you're looking at him, the slight shiver running through you as he brushes his lips against your own, slowly savoring the feel of you so near. His hands find your jaw, cradling it softly, and then he kisses you, just like how he dreamed of doing for the past month.

The kiss is dizzying, far different from your previous one. You’re no longer grasping at elusive cigarette smoke, fleeting through the gaps between your fingers. You are no longer awaiting a beacon of remembrance to shine upon your mind. You have minho, and he's delicately nibbling your lower lip, eliciting a soft gasp from you. His tongue glides across the tingling expanse, soothing down the pang of hurt, asking you for more. You willingly give it to him in a fervent, whirlwind kiss, his hands finding solace in the curve of your waist, while yours become poets, weaving tales in his hair, tugging at his strands the way you've always yearned to. 

It is muscle memory, to press your body against his, to gasp into his mouth, to match the rhythm of his tongue, the way it circles tantalizingly around yours, the way you groan against his mouth, as he briefly parts from you, his giggle a sweet prelude to meeting your lips once again with increased fervor. His tongue weaves words against the roof of your mouth— I missed you, I want you, I love you.

Minho snakes his hand around your lower back, guiding you back until his legs find the couch. He eases you down, fingers hooked through the loop of your jeans. You kiss him again, a cadence as natural as breathing. Time unravels, rewinding to mend the fractures in his heart, erasing thirty-three days of heartbreak in mere seconds. You kiss him, again and again, thirty three days of longing exploding in your touch.  

“Are you crying?” you whisper against his lips, your thumbs delicately swiping across his damp cheeks. Unaware of his flowing tears, he closes his eyes, embarrassment coursing through him. “I'm here,” you reassure, peppering his face with kisses – from his ear to his nose, cheeks to the corner of his mouth. “I'm here, honey. I want you.”

“Only me?” he questions, tone fragile.

“Only you,” you kiss him again, tenderly, inhaling life through his lips. “Let me show you how much, hm?”

Your lips trace a path down his neck as you draw his shirt over his head. An ivory canvas, he is meant for you to mark, to touch however you desire. Your lips graze the scar on his stomach, kissing it in the way you've ached to do since two nights before.

You're sinking to your knees before him and yet you’re the one in control, rippling shivers all over his skin. He’s impatient, needing you close, so he quickly pulls you up, before hovering over you, his hands drawing everywhere, running wild across your body. He missed the plush feel of your skin, the contours of your body that he yearned to explore once again. He's a prisoner deprived of the light for so long, sinking into the sun once again. 

Minho's eyes never leave yours, as he touches you, moves in you in ways your soul seems to remember. He's gentle, removing strands of your hair out of your eyes, smoothing down the side of your head. All encompassing, drinking in your moans and groans, burning you up and soothing you all at once. “Good?” he asks, again and again, waiting to hear your affirmation before picking up speed again. Your answer is yes each time he asks, as he seals the void in you, the one he's been carefully stitching up for the past weeks. You store his glazed eyes and scrunched eyebrows in the gallery of your mind, you make room for new memories with Minho. 

You're overwhelming him, in the most beautiful ways, contradicting feelings coursing through him like a rain flood. He's aching yet relieved to have you beneath him, lost in waves of pleasure so he grabs your hand to anchor himself, entwining his fingers with yours, before bringing it to his mouth, placing a tender smile on your palm. You beam at him, trust reflecting in your eyes as you bare your being to him. It is a rare fortune to be chosen by you not once, but twice, he can't believe how lucky he is to have you as his guiding star.  

Your eyes never leave Minho’s, a shimmering pool mirroring your emotions. You see everything you feel in him—your better reflection. You had missed him, you were home now. “Miss you,” he whispers as he buries his face in your neck, seemingly hearing your thoughts. “Missed you so much,” he mumbles as your hands tangle in his hair, tears descending gently upon your cheeks, as they are on his. “Please don't leave me again.”

“I won't- I won't,” you promise, as light floods your vision, reaching the pinnacle of your pleasure. Colors burst before your eyes in a kaleidoscope, resembling shades of Minho— the warm brown of his eyes, the honeyed hue of his skin, the pink tint of his ears whenever he's embarrassed, the red of his lips, swollen as they kiss you. Tonight and tomorrow and every day after this one. 

Day 1.

In the hushed aftermath, your head rests upon Minho’s bare chest, listening to the quiet rhythm of his heartbeat, calming down as the seconds trickle by. His arm curls around your body protectively, keeping you from slipping off the couch. Your knuckles trail up and down his shoulders, soothing the places where you had scratched too hard. His hand seeks yours, delivering a kiss as tender as the silence enveloping you—quiet and secure. The forgotten past doesn't matter; you will rewrite your story once more.

“Do you think our designated stars are sad somewhere far away?”

“Why would they be?” 

“I don't know. Don't you think it's bittersweet how they missed out on so many days of loving one another?”

“I don't know, did they?” he muses, planting a tender kiss on your shoulder. “I think mine loved you all the same.” 

[onlyswan]

summary: in which music waters a wilting flower on a chilly autumn night and jungkook is stuck by the glue onto you.

> idol!jungkook x reader / strangers to lovers / fluff, slight angst / wc: 4.4k

> warnings: mentions of oc’s toxic ex bf, slutshaming, and alcohol

> in which masterlist!

note: the in which couple’s first encounter reveal?! has arrived with a bam cameo at the end <3 recommend reading the ‘first times’ in the masterlist next if you haven’t yet :D as always reblogs and/or feedback are appreciated 🥰 and yes. i love beabadoobee.

—

“sir, will you help me-“ you panic, eyes pleading for help as you look between the door and the owner of the music shop. “i think it’s stuck.”

“oh! of course, of course. i apologize about that.” the middle-aged man, quick to your aid, ducks out of the counter. “i ought to get this thing changed soon. spent a fortune on it but it’s not doing what it’s supposed to do.”

you copy his chuckle, watching him push up the still half-closed door before shoving it open to the side.

“thank you!” you politely bow your head before stepping out.

“come back again next time! i’ll give you a discount!”

“really? a discount? then i have no choice but to come back!” you whine playfully, smiling at the promise of saving money in the future. you present him another bow. “have a good night! close the door now, it’s cold.”

the 90’s love song playing inside becomes muffled when the transparent glass completely shuts out the outside world once again. instead, the lead vocalist’s voice is replaced by a golden and dulcet humming by a stranger.

you scan for the source of the sound, and at once, you discover it when you whip your head to the right. scrolling through his phone, he’s sitting at the far corner of the old wooden bench— the same boy who was paying at the counter when you stumbled into the store. unbeknownst to yourself, your heart skips a beat. you were transported to a field of flowers when you brushed past him, and you met his big brown eyes briefly when he turned to leave.

burdened by the heavy and uneven weight you’re carrying on your shoulders, you decide to rest on the other side of the bench while you wait for a taxi to pass by. you spare a glance at the oversaturated band posters on the off-white wall behind it before sitting down as their audience.

the humming ceases when he feels your presence beside him.

you cautiously set down the padded guitar bag on the ground, securing it in between your thighs, anxious of getting so much as a scratch on the precious instrument. it’s a dear friend’s birthday tomorrow, and you only found the time and the money to purchase her gift today.

you check your wrist watch. 10:13pm. you fell asleep in the library while studying for a test, and because of that, you’re probably going to be home at around midnight. this place is pretty far and secluded, but apparently it’s known for its good and rare finds. you went here with your friend two months ago just to window shop and one of their bass guitars caught her eye. naturally, you couldn’t resist. her birthday gift has to be this. for some reason, it just feels easier to spend money on your loved ones than yourself.

will you even manage to send a birthday message before you pass out to sleep again? god, you hope so.

you feel your empty stomach grumbling angrily, and you’re not sure if it makes a sound or if it’s all just in your muddled head. yup, you missed dinner, too.

“i’m so hungry.” you cry out quietly, resting your forehead on the neck of the guitar.

fine, maybe you subconsciously said it a little louder than quiet. it was a shot in the dark, curious if the stranger beside you would have any sort of reaction. you hope for a glance at most. he has beautiful eyes, ones you almost feel envious of.

“me too.“ the sulky response slips out of his mouth with an exhausted sigh.

the sound of his voice makes you perk up in pleasant surprise, gazing at him with an amused, tight-lipped smile. on the other hand, he stiffens from the realization of what he just did. he stops manspreading, straightening himself up and awkwardly clearing his throat.

“sorry… it was a reflex.”

“it’s okay.” you reassure him with a quick laugh.

you tear your eyes away from him, watching the moths frantically flying under the street lamps. it’s silent for a moment, except for the shop owner’s on-going playlist and the occassional singing of the abundant crickets.

you face him again with a flair of innocence.

“do you want a granola bar?”

he lifts his head to look at you, the screen’s light reflecting on his tan skin, and that grants you the ability to see his breathtaking eyes. there might’ve been countless instances when they hated how small this bench is, most likely a tight fit for three people, but right now, you wouldn’t have it in any other way.

“it’s just that… i’m going to eat it and it feels rude to eat alone knowing you’re hungry, too.”

his teeth sinks in lower lip, contemplating for a few beats before nodding his head. “yeah, sure. i’d like one. thank you.”

you bring out the tupperware from your messenger bag, unfastening the sides open and separating the lid. as your own wordless way of telling him that they’re not poisoned, you grab one first, taking a small bite, before offering the container to him.

“here you go.”

you stifle a cackle when he pulls down the sleeves of his black hoodie as if he’s preparing to eat a whole course meal. he’s so fucking cute, gentle and dainty while picking up the granola bar along with the parchment paper underneath it. that leaves you with three left. you set down the tupperware between the two of you, loosely putting the lid on top.

“huh?” he exclaims with big round eyes, hand hovering over his mouth as he chews. “did you make this?”

the question makes you wince nervously. he didn’t like it? you could’ve sworn it's the best batch you’ve made so far. “uhm, if it tastes good, then i did. if not-”

“no, no. i like it.” he giggles, waving his hand to shoo your worries. “it’s not too sweet, and it’s soft? how did you make it chewy?!”

“oh-” you breathe out a sigh, clutching your chest in relief. “i just follow a recipe i found online! my neighbor gives me honey like every week so i found a use for it.”

“well, it’s really good. thank you.” he gives you a kind smile, scrunching his nose before resuming to eat the snack you spent your sunday night preparing.

and it’s quiet again. you look the other way to hide the proud smile playing on your lips, the fluttering of your unguarded heart raging and stubborn. maybe if you put food in your mouth, you’ll stop talking… not.

“i’m ___.”

he swallows before replying, distinctive dimples near his mouth making an appearance. “i’m jungkook.”

jungkook. it suits him so well. it’s perfect.

“do you play the guitar?“ jungkook asks curiously, motioning at the instrument you’re holding.

“oh, no- i just got this for my friend’s birthday. she’s in a band.” you share with a chuckle. “what about you? what do you need those giant speakers for?”

“ahh, they are big, aren’t they?” he scrunches his nose, glancing at the two boxes beside his feet. “i just figured buying new speakers would motivate me to work on music more.”

“are you a singer?” you gasp dramatically for effect. “or perhaps, a rapper?”

“i mean…” he smiles sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. “i guess i can rap, too.”

“that’s cool. i think you have a pretty talking voice, too.”

“aigoo, thank you so much.” he jokingly bends down his torso for a bow, clasping his hands together with the small remaining piece of granola bar in between before taking it in between his teeth.

the harmony of your laughter bleeds through the chilly air, providing your hearts a wave of much needed warmth.

“thank you too. you gave me an idea what to gift my friends next time.”

“speakers?” his face lights up like of a kid unboxing presents beside the christmas tree. you’ve never met anyone who looks this passionate at the mention of the said device— this whole interaction is giving you the urge to dive deeper into the world of music beyond the sphere of being a casual listener. “they’ll love it. it’s the best gift for me personally.”

you tilt your head to the side. “you know a lot about them?”

“hmmm, i don’t know.” he purses his lips as he hums, eyes falling on the ground as he ponders. “they’re important for shows and work so i naturally learn a lot about them… i often look for reviews and new releases. it’s like a hobby?”

“really? then i’m sold. i need you.”

the carelessly casual words escape your mouth before you can think twice.

“need me?” he repeats your word in surprise, pointing at himself.

you disguise yourself with a nod and a coy smile, acting nonchalant as if you’re not screaming inside. you’ve always been this shameless when you have nothing to lose, but he’s just so pretty that you want to learn shit like what his favorite food is and whether your zodiac signs are compatible even though you don’t believe in them.

“help me choose the best speakers to buy, one year from now. i don’t know anything about music at all, so i always have a hard time with gifts.” you’re pouting sadly by the end, your words bearing the weight of truth, albeit you’re also using them as an excuse to glue yourself onto him.

in your mind, five seconds feels like it’s stretching into eternity. he breaks out into a shy grin, playing with the parchment paper left in his hand before folding it over and over again until it becomes the same size as the nail of his thumb. he stuffs it into the pocket of his washed denim jeans.

“okay then, i should help you. give me your number?”

your hands graze each other as you lay hold of his phone, clueless instruments of your and jungkook’s youthful impulses and anticipation.

“do you have other ___’s in your contacts? should i name myself ‘___ from mj’s music box’?” you inquire half-jokingly, raising your eyebrows at him.

”ey, come on. there’s no need for that.” he chortles, staring back at you with an unnamed emotion in his eyes, but you quickly revert your attention to the screen and you don’t notice.

“i don’t think you’ll remember me just by my name a year from now, though.” you mutter to yourself as you tap on the screen. after that, you tap the call button to save his number on your phone as well.

you’re already handing him back his phone when he finally constructs a reply-

“is that so? then make it difficult for me to forget.”

and the air gets robbed from your lungs. it makes you wonder how many hearts he has broke, being this handsome and charming, and if you’ll even drag this out and stick around long enough to find out.

“be careful of your words. i’m pretty competitive.” you playfully taunt him, softly tugging his wrist to put the device on his delicately wide palm. “don’t blame me when i end up being the only person you think about.”

he matches your energy, a cocky smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he shakes his head. “psh, why would i? that doesn’t sound like a bad deal.”

why are you thinking of ways to keep this flowing instead of retreating and coming up with an obvious excuse to leave? as always, you find yourself most liberated when you meet new people, even when you know they’ll only be a fleeting presence in your life, here to leave a stain or a scar. you wish a taxi never arrives. you wish to be left stranded here for the rest night so you can hear him talk about the first song he ever wrote and you can tell him about the stupid song your first boyfriend wrote for you.

but alas, the universe intervenes with your fantasies and the approaching blazing headlights almost blind your blurry eyes.

you wave your hand to hail the taxi, and you smile at jungkook one more time. “time for me to go.”

“oh, okay.”

the vehicle parks infront of the bench. he watches you hurriedly toss the granola bar you never finished into the transparent tupperware, a feeling akin to disappointment gnawing at his guts.

“wait- weren’t you waiting for a taxi, too?” you wonder out loud as you slide the resealed container inside your bag.

“i’m fine, i have a ride. you go take it- oh, oh- let me help you with that-” he stands up abruptly when he sees you struggling to stand up, lifting the guitar to relieve you of the barrier.

“thanks, jungkook.” you laugh airily, getting on your feet, closer to him than you’ve ever been. he’s taller than you originally thought, and it’s hard to ignore the fact that his flexing forearms are veiny… (you have a suspicion that he’s doing it on purpose. the guitar bag isn’t that heavy.) those, paired with that pretty baby face— he’s so manly and so adorable in a way you’ve never seen in anyone else. he’s a beautiful, refreshing sight to behold.

you’re holding your breath, as if that would freeze the hands of the clocks, halt the earth from spinning on its axis because it’s the only way for you to stay without blaming yourself. the love songs haven’t stopped playing, and a slow acoustic sets out to delude you that this is a scene from an indie romance film, a beginning of something beautiful, but it rarely is. it never is.

his bunny teeth sink into his bottom lip, tainting it a darker shade of pink, before his tongue sneaks out to lick it. “you can go inside.” he generously says, slightly raising his arms to gesture at your cherished gift he’s grasping securely.

you only nod in understanding, walking past him and proceeding to open the door to slide into the backseat. you assist him in putting the guitar inside the taxi and over your lap, and you force your brain to shut down before you can speak again and your friskiness gets you into trouble.

“get home safe, ___!” he brightly chirps, waving at you goodbye.

your cheeks are starting to hurt from all the giddy smiles, but you just can’t stop, not when he has this contagious and bubbly expression painted on his face that’s simply impossible not to adore.

“you too, jungkook.”

his meticulous eyes briefly wander around your figure, checking if you’re too close, and then he carefully slams the door shut. you sink into your seat, swallowing the lump in your throat before telling the taxi driver your address.

you don’t want to think too much, so you close your eyes, hoping to get more sleep to recharge your mental and social batteries. unsurprisingly, you grow restless not even five minutes after. the soothing piano ballads faintly playing in the radio aren’t much help either. an infuriated scream hangs on the tip of your tongue, and you bite it down into dust. instead, you dish out your phone from the pocket of your bag to save jungkook’s number… but then the venomous voice of your ex calling you degrading names ranging from ‘an ungrateful, attention-seeking bitch’ to ‘a slut’ after you broke up with him echo in your tumultuous head, and you begin feeling pathetically small and nauseous. for a split moment you find yourself contemplating whether you should just delete it or not. out of guilt or out of fear, maybe both, you’re not quite certain.

what ultimately pull you out from the dark abyss of relentless overthinking are the first notifications you ever receive with his name attached to them.

Jungkook:

hey this is JK

i just thought of this now ?!..

trade my music equipment expertise for your magical granola bar recipe? :)

you bury your face in your hands, silently crying out— “ah shit, this is so annoying. why does he have to be so cute? i need a drink.”

—

“i’m hungry.” the grumpy complaint spills from your tongue now that bam, your not-so little happy pill, is out from sight.

“me too.” jungkook juts out his bottom lip, lifting his head from your shoulder to look at you. “do you still have strawberry wafers in your bag?”

his question prompts you to hug it defensively. no, just no. “i’m saving them for emergencies-”

he puts his index finger infront of his lips, shushing you with a shake of his head. he tuts. “i know. this is an emergency, baby.”

cornered at the armrest of the couch, you have nowhere else to go. you unwillingly surrender to satisfying his craving, grimacing as he starts rummaging through your bag. this is exactly why you told him you should eat brunch before bringing in bam for his grooming, but jungkook insisted that it won’t take too long. sure, maybe the grooming session itself won’t… but the waiting in line part? that definitely took too long. making an appointment is technically futile when you’re visiting on a weekend.

“mhmmm, i love it.” he moans in satisfaction, devouring the slice of wafer in only two consecutive bites.

you glare at him when he offers you the plastic bag with a teasing smile, seizing it from his grip to snack on the treat while you continue to wait at the lounge area. you’re the only fur parents left here, the last clients before the staff goes on their hour-long lunch break. the sign on the door has been flipped to say ‘CLOSED’.

jungkook wraps one arm around you, pulling you closer by the shoulder and cupping your face with his warm hand to plant an apologetic kiss on your cheek. “i’ll cook you a hearty meal for dinner when we get home.”

you melt in his hold, leaning further against the backrest to release the tension from your body bred by hunger and impatience.

“really?” you feign nonchalance as you make the futile attempt of hiding the pleased smile curving on your lips. “i want chicken. the one you made before, with the creamy and spicy sauce.”

your mouth is practically watering as you describe the dish, the smell and taste of his cooking still vivid in your senses’ memory. it’s making the food you’re eating painfully insipid, but it’s better than nothing.

“and wine, too. no- actually, i’m craving tequi- argh, i’ll settle with wine.”

“okay! chicken and wine for dinner!” he agrees straight away, pressing a kiss on your temple before pinching one more stick of wafer between his fingers. he breaks it into two halves and gives one of them to you.

you accept it wordlessly, but a peculiar feeling is slithering its way into the tight confines of your heart, and you can’t withdraw your eyes from closely observing your gorgeous boyfriend. he brushes off the crumbs that fell on his white t-shirt and his lap after he finishes his share, still chewing as he tenderly takes the empty plastic from your hand. just as you predicted, he finds entertainment in folding it as small as possible.

“this is giving me déjà vu.”

“déjà vu?” he tilts up his head, doe eyes widening as you’ve captured his attention.

“uh-huh, you know when we first met…” you trail off, sending him a threatening look when the confused expression on his face stays unchanging. “you remember, right?”

his mouth hangs open before his eyebrows knit in irritation, posture straightening as he stammers with his defense. “what kind of question is that? you’re hurting my feelings- you were wearing a varsity jacket with the number 6 on it!”

“jungkook, i wore that like everyday for four months.”

his expression softens, pierced lip forming a pout. “do you even know that i-i… ah, i’ll show you instead!”

“show me what?”

he digs his hand in the pocket of his dark blue denim jeans, dishing out his wallet. you peer at him with curiosity as he rapidly unzips it to comb through his cards, pausing at his driver’s license and removing the white paper hiding behind it.

“no way-” you splutter, nearly choking on your own spit as your hunch grows enormously.

he unfolds it to reveal the faded blue ink that writes the most crucial and specific details of the first time the universe conspired to make your paths cross.

“look, i still have the receipt from the night! november 11…”

you notice him squinting at the faint characters, and you momentarily disconnect from the surge of mixed emotions to pull out his prescription glasses from the collar of his t-shirt. you affectionately wear it on him, weaving your fingers through his hair to brush away the loose strands from his bun blocking the lens.

“thanks baby- it’s november 11, 2017. at 9:55pm!”

jungkook originally kept this receipt for a month incase he had to return the speakers due to unforeseen defect or damage. but then you never stopped talking, and you became the only person he thinks of 24/7 just as your coquettish warning told. the thought of throwing it out never occured to him. instead, he preserved it in his wallet because he carries it with him everywhere he goes. he would even argue that it’s his most important property in it. he can have his credit cards cancelled then replaced, but this piece of paper is once in a lifetime.

mj’s music box closed down due to the pandemic. he hasn’t told you this, didn’t want to break your heart when he found out. he knows that you treasure the place as much as him, if not more.

meanwhile, the new-found knowledge has rendered you speechless, unblinking, buffering.

“what’s with that face? you’ve never seen this in my wallet?” he quizzes you in bewilderment, smiling humorously.

“of course i haven’t! you want me going through your wallet without permission?!” you whine, hugging his arm and hiding yourself behind his back to calm the intense pumping of your heart.

oh, your sweet, sweet jungkook— he never runs out of way to make you fall in love with him all over again.

“my love, you know i don’t care about things like that.” he chuckles, astonished by how you still highly value and respect his privacy and boundaries despite how long you’ve been together. it just occurs to him then, that at the very core of your relationship, this is probably why he never once regretted moving in with you. he says it all the time, but he just feels so goddamn lucky to have you in his life. he loves you. he loves everything about you. even the things he doesn’t like, he loves.

“aren’t you going to eat that?”

you’re overflowing with his love, you can’t stomach anything else.

“i won’t.”

“i’ll indulge myself then.” he cages your hand in his, raising it for the wafer to reach his lips. he bites it all the way down like a bunny eating a carrot, ending the journey with a chaste kiss on your knuckle. “you’re too quiet… are you crying?”

you shake your head profusely, tightening your embrace. “i love you so much, i can’t think. i just want to hug you.”

he smells a different type of sweet nowadays— more manly, more mature, binding you in an enrapturing spell, and with a suble hint of a baby scent that somehow makes him much more intoxicating. it’s overwhelming to think about— the amount of perfume bottles you’ve bought and consumed after asking one another if they smell too basic or too strong; the amount of times jungkook changed his wallet and took the receipt along with him because it only felt right.

“mkay, i’m not going anywhere.” he whispers, nosing at your hair.

and so, he stays stuck by the glue onto you as he gulps down a bottle of water, as he returns his wallet in his pocket with grunts of difficulty, as he deletes a promotional text on his phone sent by his service provider. he suspects that you’ve already fallen asleep. after all, you did spend the entire night dancing to the songs he sang along to. you wore the crocheted blanket you made as a cape and a dress, flowing with your graceful movements controlled by the lyrics and the beat and the melody and his compliments and his giggles.

he’s proven wrong when you slowly turn your head, cheek squished against his bicep. with heavy eyelids, you search for his hands, tangling them with your lonely ones.

“want to hear something silly about that day?”

“i’m all ears.” he beams eagerly, watching you twiddle with his long and slender fingers.

“do you know why i offered you my food?”

“because you couldn’t let a pretty boy like me succumb to starvation?”

“weeeell, there’s that…” you admit to his confident guess. “but aside from that, i wanted to see your nails closely.”

“my nails?”

you make a noise of confirmation as you trace his tattoos, a laugh seeping from the cracks of your relaxed demeanor. “to see if they were clean and trimmed or not.”

“so…” jungkook, the most hygienic man you’ve ever met, is digesting what you just confessed to him. “if they were dirty, you never would’ve told me your name?”

“hmm, yeah. because i always badgered my ex about it and you know how that relationship ended, so i thought enforcing those type of rules would help because i don’t want to deal with that shit again.” you cringe at younger you’s naivety and desperation, smiling shyly. “and it kind of… worked out so well? it sounds so funny to me now. i actually love myself for that.”

“fuck, baby,” he sighs.

he can’t imagine how a human being could ever dare to treat you with anything but gentleness. literally, can’t. it makes him sick to his stomach, makes the blood in his veins boil. he feels disturbed by the memories that still haunt you, and he feels angry because he is powerless and he can’t erase them no matter how hard he tries.

he caresses your face, planting doting kisses on your lips. the ghost of his affection lingers, like an invisible lipstick mark. “i wish i met you sooner.”

“what are you saying? i think we met at the perfect time!” you console his frustration, grinning when the epiphany lands on top of your bittersweet flashbacks. “out of the 365 days of the year, we met at 11/11. you’re my wish come tru- bam!”

the shocked, high-pitched squeal freefalls from your mouth when bam excitedly jumps on your laps out of nowhere, the weight of his upper half crushing your thighs underneath him. the dog smiles at you, panting.

“bam, i missed you but i was just about to tell your dad something romantic!”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[mikareo]

megumi doing smth pls

⌗ THIRTEEN YEARS ₊ ˖ ་. megumi fushiguro x fem reader (2.6k)

⊹ ⠀⠀ 3 times megumi wants to tell you he loves you, and the 1 time he does.

contains; attack on titan au, marleyan!megumi, eldian!reader, aot spoilers!!! (season 4), forbidden lovers, fluff, angst, kissing, major character death, cannabalism? (titans), annie cameo! author's note; here u get an old draft (psa none of this will make sense if you haven't watched attack on titan!!!!)

i. what is love at first sight

it's almost human instinct; knowing which people are more likely to have good fortune. some are simply born with an advantage— these people having the freedom to walk along the river bank, skip flattened rocks down streams, and laugh with their peers. with families who shop in the market together, hand-in-hand with woven baskets strewn over their shoulders, and all the time in the world to live their lives to the absolute fullest as true freelancers facing the rising sun that sees tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that.

but in the truth of it all...the sun doesn't shine on everyone.

there are countless amounts of souls who aren't as blessed as marleyans like megumi. souls entangled with the devil herself, ymir, a woman who singlehandedly birthed the 'race from hell'...which he's never fully agreed with. everyone he knows refers to eldians as humanity's sin, but it's not their fault their biology is simply different.

humans are humans, right? they've done no wrong by being born. especially the warrior candidate he's been staring at for the past hour from a distance. you can't be that bad. after all, you're beautiful.

okay, yes. he has a little crush. he can't help it! one day, he was minding his own business on a walk home from the lab, when gojo had the bright idea of sneaking a peak at the warrior training. that's when megumi first saw you and his world stopped. sure, you were covered in mud and crawling through trenches with a rifle strapped to your back; but that didn't make him any less awestruck. since then he's hidden himself in the same bush, week after week, just to get a glimpse of your face.

"she's a cutie. you've got good taste." okay, creepy.

megumi rolls his eyes, glancing up at his mentor who's the only person who knows of his little secret. "don't you have women to harass?"

"ouch, sassed by a ten year old. i see how it is." gojo chuckles, ruffling his black hair and crouching down to the younger boy's level. "you see her out there? she's killing it. i heard she's the top contender for the female."

"i hope so." his blue eyes are locked on you, watching as your focused expression turns to determination whilst helping your teammate off the ground. "she'll have a better chance of living that way."

"...and maybe your family will let you meet her."

ugh, his family. since he was six, the zenin's have raised him with their questionable values and ideals. as the leading researchers in the modern world, they've revolutionized how eldians are studied! at least that's what he's been told. to be frank, he doesn't care about the right or wrong battle they've propagandized to the rest of humanity. all he cares about is knowing your name and telling you how pretty your eyes are.

"i want to talk to her, at least once." his voice is quiet, but gojo hears.

"why? you wanna tell her you love her?"

he hates him so much.

"no!" megumi exclaims, pushing back the older man in defense. his cheeks are bright red from embarrassment and he can feel the flames emitting from them. "i just want to be her friend, that's all. why do you always make things so weird?"

it's amusing to gojo how his little friend is so flustered. usually megumi is a shy boy, keeping to himself and avoiding contact with his peers; but whenever the conversation topic is you, he seems to perk up...and gojo loves to tease a lovestruck kid.

"don't worry," he smirks, "you'll understand your feelings when you're older. you don't need to tell her quite yet that you love her."

love you?

"just shut up and let me watch." megumi grumbles, resting his head in his hands as you're jumping up and down after being praised by your captain. he wishes he could make you that happy one day. "it's not love, i'm serious."

he'll understand what love means when he gets older. for now, he'll just imagine confessing.

ii. what is love that is forbidden

you're a lot more annoying than he thought you'd be.

after having been selected as the new female titan, your ego is boasting with energy and won't stop boasting no matter how often megumi tells you to zip it. though he was excited to meet you, his thirteen year old self now wishes you'd give him a moment of peace. instead, you insist on following him around whenever and wherever you can and yapping his ear off with comments on everyone and everything about your day. please, just give him a break.

"uh, fushiguro..."

he sighs with exhaustion. "what?"

"i think i locked us in here."

dammit.

"you forgot the key?" he asks.

"i forgot the key." you confirm.

of course you did.

with an exhausted grumble, megumi settles himself on the cold, cement floor of the supply closet you'll both call home for the next few hours. it's both of your days off, but he'd wanted to prep his supplies for his training on monday; to which you, of course, invited yourself along for the ride. you'll stay out of the way. it's fine, he can just ignore you. that's what he told himself...though, it's impossible for him to ignore you.

it's likely that no one will visit the storage room until the evening time— with most of his colleagues at home with their families, cooking a warm meal with lamb and stew. it's also uncommon for any of the researchers to be in liberio on their off days. megumi's just the special kind that doesn't think he'll be plagued by breathing the same air as eldians.

"mind if i join you?" he knows you're asking a rhetorical question and you know he'd never reject you.

with a small plop, you take a seat next to him. he's used to your warmth by now— considering you to be an essential part of his every day, despite how much he enjoys complaining about you— and leans his head against yours. it's obvious that you're sleepy. though, you never indulge in conversations about your training, megumi is well aware of how overworked you are. he can't imagine fighting in wars at this age, especially wars in which you're fourteen meters tall and smashing through brick walls; which is why he tries his best to be there for you when you need him.

your life is a battlefield and he's the peaceful conclusion.

"you know..." the sound of your voice is faint, a great contrast to your usual noise and megumi can tell something is wrong. "when they find us here, they're going to think i kidnapped you."

"i mean what else would the zenin heir be doing with a titan shifter?" you start to choke on your words and he instinctively wraps his arms around you. "you don't need to comfort me, fushiguro. we both know i'm going to be punished after this. you can't apologize and make everything okay like usual."

to your surprise, his pointer finger touches your cheek and gently wipes away your running tears. "...fushiguro—"

"it won't always be like this." he interrupts you, cupping your face as if you're a rare gem that he can't afford breaking. "when i'm in charge, i'm going to change things. you won't have to do this anymore. i won't let them do this to you anymore!"

the two of you are a mess on the floor, crying in each others arms, and wishing that the world was a better place. "you still have thirteen years left. please...please keep fighting for me. i promise i'm going to save you."

"fushiguro..."

"call me by my first name."

"...megumi."

you're beautiful. he wants to kiss you so badly, but he knows now isn't the time. he wants to hold your hand in public, but he knows you'll be berated for doing so. he wants to tell you he loves you, but he's too afraid.

megumi fushiguro is a coward.

...but he's a coward in love; and one day, when he's taller and stronger, he's going to be able to tell you that. he's going to be able to protect you.

iii. what is love that is hopeless

"hold still." megumi's voice is soft, his fingers of the same gentle malice as they tend to your open wounds that haven't quite healed yet. with titan steam wafting from the slashes scattering your forearms and shoulders, they blow into his face in a fury of pain. "dammit, i said hold still."

his brings both arms down to your shoulders, heart breaking at the sight of you wincing in retaliation to his force, but carries on. there's no telling what you would've gotten yourself into if he hadn't insisted he care for your wounds; after making it publicly known that he's to be the only researcher allowed within your vicinity after your tireless warrior missions, none of the other researchers even attempt to get near you. he hates how often you put yourself in harms way in order to save your comrades. you're too brave. you've never been just a warrior of marley, but more or less a warrior of all people.

"i've been sitting here for an hour already, megumi." you roll your eyes, swinging your legs over the metal rims and turning to face your very pissed off best friend. "i'm tired and i'd like to get at least an hour of sleep tonight."

his expression is somewhat terrifying. if you didn't know megumi was such a scaredy cat, you'd be intimidated by his reddened cheeks and eyes of fury. it's almost as if he's an inflamed torch held against fluorescent lighting, pasty and saturated in fear and exhaustion. "i need to make sure you're okay."

"well, i have another plane to catch at dawn," you deflect his concerns. "there's some issue i was assigned to when i landed this morning. i guess one of our enemies isn't afraid of titans yet."

"you're not going."

he's firm in his statement. megumi doesn't like how his colleagues take advantage of you and your abilities. they're working you to skin and bones. if they were the ones checking up on you after every battle they'd know so, but they wouldn't treat you with as much care. his only wish in the world is to keep you safe, which he's doing an awful job at as of yet. "i don't want you getting more hurt than you already are."

"as if it matters." you scoff, leaning towards him in an attempt to get him to back off. "i'll just give 'em a little taste of my titan and they'll run away like mice. it's easy, 'gumi. trust me—"

"life isn't a game!" he's furious.

"well mine is!" you're angry as well.

why don't you get it? why can't you just run away with him?

"i only have four years left! four years, megumi! i don't care if i die tomorrow or the day after that or the day after that. i'm going to either way. you don't have that problem. you don't understand."

without warning, his lips are on yours in his best attempt to stop you from spouting all of his fears and worries from your mouth. he doesn't want to hear it. he just wants to pretend none of it is happening, and you're going to be okay. you are going to be okay. he'll make sure of it.

it takes a moment for you to respond until your intertwined in a feverish kiss that sends his medical supplies clanging to the floor— but megumi doesn't care about order, all he cares about now is being as close to you as possible. he's dreamt of this moment for years. what you taste like...feel like...sound like. he knows you're his soulmate. what he doesn't know is why it's taken him so long to kiss you.

but before your connection can move forward and become something more, your touch is gone.

"i'm sorry, i can't do this." there are tears creeping from the corners of your beautiful eyes. "i—"

he calls out your name as your figure dashes out the door, wishing that he was able to confess. he wants to tell you he loves you so badly; except he doesn't have the bravery he needs. with four more years left, megumi has two things on his agenda.

1.) find a way to save you.

2.) tell you he's yours forever.

iv. what is love everlasting

he's finally become a monster like the rest of them.

from the first time he saw you, he told himself he'd be your savior. he made countless promises that he'd find a way for eldians and marleyans to live in peace, that he'd find a way to save you from this shitty war; only to be the very person to lock you in chains, awaiting imminent death as the next female titan will be born.

megumi wanted to be brave. he wanted to stop being such a coward, but some people just aren't capable of changing so much— and what a disappointment that is.

"hey, fushiguro?" when did you stop calling him by his first name? "can you keep a secret?"

he's not supposed to be civil with you. his orders are to chain you up, inject the child, and watch as she devours you; but you're his weakness. he can't resist you. "of course i can."

a smile graces your lips. it's not a smile of happiness or joy...it's one of anguish and pain. "i wish i ran away with you. i should've run away with you. even though we only had four years, we could've been happy."

why are you saying all of this?

now of all times?

you should've told him years ago! you should've let him know your secrets before he let them change him! before he distanced himself from you and became distracted with his work!

"...megumi..."

"yes?" he's desperate to hear you.

"...i don't want to die."

a thought crosses his mind. it's a scene in which two main characters beat all odds and escape the chains and prisons they've faced, running off into the sunset, never to be seen again. this scene has a happy ending, one where there's a small and intimate wedding with no witnesses except the meadow's flowers. he lifts your veil away from your eyes and murmurs sweet nothings as you kiss him to start off your forever. his heart wants that to be true. he wants that to be true. it's too late, though. you have no time left. your thirteen years is up. his thirteen years of knowing you is up. it's time to say goodbye.

"i can't save you." he's struggling to get his words out while maintaining his composure; and your heart breaks as his promise does as well. "i'm sorry."

he's a monster.

you hang your head, nodding and accepting your fate as he makes his way down the stairs. seeing you like that, knowing what your fate is, almost causes megumi to pass out from lightheadedness. he knows he shouldn't be worrying about himself. after all, you're the one who's about to die. he has a whole lifetime to continue living, and your lifetime was a mere twenty-six years.

gently, he takes the newest warriors hands and tells her what he's about to do. the blonde girl nods along to his words, trying her best to ignore your radiating hopelessness as she's about to become the next you; and megumi injects his needle into her neck.

he wants to look away so badly as she grows into a pure titan with eyes locked on your frail body, but he doesn't want it to end like this. there's gotta be something that he can do to help you. anything to save you from this fate; but to no avail, he's powerless. so powerless that the only thing he manages to do is mouth three seemingly meaningless words as he locks eyes with you.

"i love you."

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

[fandomwritingbit]

Okay last one- for now

Michael x female reader hate smut-

Michael is a straight up bully to reader, they always argue and never get along, but one night readers car breaks down confidently in front of his home- doesnt help that its raining so she is getting soaked, she tries calling her roommate but because its night they dont pick up.

Michael comes out to see whats going on and he spot her, he rolls his eyes and makes her get inside instead of staying in the cold, grumbling that he will fix it in the morning and she can sleep in his room, he even lets her have some of his clothes- but he makes her sleep on the floor, she refuses to saying its cold and after a bit of arguing he grabs her and kisses her quiet, telling her he knows a way to keep her warm if she wants

Reader consents and the rest is up to you 👀

Okay, so I’ve never written for Michael before... but I had way too much fun with this. I wrote it kind of like a comedy with smut because I get perverse enjoyment out of bullying Michael lmao. Hope it’s to your liking!  

Warnings: smut nsfw, vaginal sex, creampie god I hate that word swearing, bad car knowledge, reader and Mike are both kinda arseholes, Will cameo, a joke about a dead parent, yes ik it sounds bad, but give it a chance cos that’s funny af irl.

Driving home from the shop, you double flick the windscreen wipers as the hammering rain only gets worse. You’re already wet from the 10 seconds you spent outside, your jeans clinging uncomfortably to your legs and dampening the seat underneath you. 

Mumbling a ‘for fuck’s sake’, you turn down another residential road, still over two miles from your house, the quick nip out for fags having taken up way too much of your night. 

Its then that the worst sound possible could be heard. Your engine packing in, squealing like a stuck pig in a fence, followed by a juddering thud as you’re mercifully able to steer it up the curb outside a house, before it completely dies on you. To be honest, you’d know that this shit-raft hadn’t had long left but really, tonight? Right now? So far from home? After you’d just spent a fucking fortune fuelling up? Bleeding typical. 

You get out of the car, no umbrella or jacket to speak of and are wet to the bone before you can even get to the bonnet and peer inside. Seeing smoke depressingly coming from some part of the vehicle you couldn’t name. 

“What the Hell are you doing here?” Someone behind you says, emphasising the ‘you’ with disgust. Of course you turn, ready to give someone the mouthful of profanity you were saving for this limp cock of a car. You recognise the tallish, messy haired lad immediately and curse in annoyance. Fucking great: it’s Michael Afton. 

You found him such a silly ponce. And he you, a nasty prick. Having known each other since college and now finding yourself studying at the same Uni, your animosity towards each other having grown and matured into a smouldering hatred that caused arguments anytime you were in a room together. Only yesterday morning you’d given him a mouthful for how he’d acted towards you in a Costas. And so, seeing him now, you almost laughed at how this night probably couldn’t get any worse. 

“You’re really here to give me shit now?” You sigh, trying to keep a level head as he probably had a better chance of fixing this car than you. “My car’s dead as a dodo.” 

“That...” He smiles at you meanly, enjoying the sight of you soaked through and looking damn right miserable. “...is a shame.” He turns to walk up a drive into a house you assumed was his, grinning at your anguish. 

Giving him the wanker gesture behind his back, you pull out your phone, registering the sound of a front door closing, whilst your shaky, wet hands tried to dial your roommate. Eventually you succeed, but it goes straight to voicemail, their phone clearly dead or off. Leaving you stranded as your parents were out of town and no one else was local, it being summer hols and you being home from Uni. You put your hand on your head, desperately trying to find a solution to your freezing cold predicament. 

From inside his house, Michael peeked through his curtains surprised to see you still stood outside in the rain. Surely, you’d have the common sense to get back in your car or something. But no. He watched you looking like a stray cat for a few minutes before his decency took over and he goes to the door to see if you’re alright. 

“You standing there all night, y/n?” 

You laugh sharply, tears of frustration threatening to spill. “Just fucking might.” 

“You wanna come in while you wait for someone?” He says, sighing at having to spend time in the same building as you, but still feeling a shred of pity. 

“I ain’t got anyone to come get me.” You say, hands rising to an irritated shrug.

“Still wanna come in for a bit?” 

And although you’d usually rather stick a spork in your eye than sit around with Michael Afton, it beat standing here, or sitting in your car. But only narrowly. 

He leads you through his front door, showing you a bathroom and after you heavily hint, giving you some dry clothes to wear whilst your own dried on a radiator. You thank him reluctantly, going inside said toilet to put on the joggers and hoodie he’d given you. Scowling to yourself in the mirror as you can smell him on the clothes. 

You come out after promising yourself to not let him wind you round the bend. Finding your way to a kitchen, where stood leant against a counter, after nicely, he’d boiled a kettle for you. 

He hadn’t expected the movement in his trousers at seeing you in his clothes, it felt intimate and kind of sexy. And for a moment he just saw you as a good-looking lass, not the witch that had been haunting him for 4 years. 

“Thanks for the clothes and the hot drink- I appreciate it.” 

“Yeah, you should. I was tempted not to invite you in.” You smile sarcastically at him, walking over to the rack of mugs you’d spotted on the counter, grabbing some kind of fancy-arse tea bag. 

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do. My parents are out of town.” You briefly explain to him, using the mug to warm you aching hands. To which he stood silently, watching your arse in his trousers as you did so. 

“If you promise to keep your mouth shut, you can stay here.” He offers unenthusiastically.

“Why would I want to do that, Mikey?” You laugh.

“Feel free to go back out-fucking-side.” He gestures with his hand in the rough direction of the door, a very familiar sneer on his face. 

And what else could you do? Sleep in your car outside in a neighbourhood you didn’t know that well? So you agree, not hiding the look of despair the prospect gave you. Which only doubled when he told you his dad would be coming home so you’d have to sleep in his room. On the floor. Like a dog. 

~

He threw a couple of pillows on his carpet, then a paper-thin blanket, looking at you with a stupid smug expression on his stupid smug stupid fucking face.

After about 10 minutes of shivering on his floor, your back already throbbing from the lack of mattress, you grow tired of hearing the shit tik toks he was watching. 

“I can’t sleep here, this is ridiculous.” You sit up, making him jump a little at the abruptness. “What did you just shit yourself for? Forget I’m here?” You say somewhat meanly, a snicker accompanying it, standing up and cracking your neck.

“Shut up. Where are you gonna go like?” His voice takes on a cutting mocking tone, “Get in here with me?” 

You walk over to him, face a picture of annoyance. “That what you want Mike? Me to get in fucking bed with you?” You laugh, bringing you head down to his level as he was sat. “To think, all this time I thought you were a cunt to me because you hated me. When really you just want to fuck me.” Shaking your head, you point a finger at him, “God that’s fucking pathe-” 

Your further insults are cut short when he grabs you and kisses you harshly on the mouth, the only thing he could think to do to get you to shut the fuck up for once. And you’ll admit, you respected the bollocks on him for it.

Maybe it was the frustration of the night’s events. Maybe it was built up hate between the two of you boiling over. Neither of you are sure. But you let him pull you on to his lap, kissing him back, tongues and hands quickly becoming involved.  

You feel the urge to call him names when you feel the hardness of his cock pressing against the inside of your thigh. But you stifle it, grabbing his hand to make him take his hoodie off your frame, not having to tell him to do the rest because he did so quickly. Rushing to unhook your bra and palm your tits, whilst you pull up his shirt, then down his trousers to gain access to his cock. 

There was no finesse to it, just hurried grabbing and heated biting of lips of necks. Both of you wanting to assert some level of dominance and fuck each other before it dawned on you that you hate one another. And so, it wasn’t long before he yanked you forward to pull his joggers down and your knickers aside, his thick cock spreading you open as sit atop him. It surprised you how good it felt to have him thrusting up into you, whilst your hips rolled fuelled by dislike and desperate to cum almost immediately. 

You did when he pushed you back, making you lay backwards before climbing on top of you and shoving himself back inside you. The new angle more than welcome, making you grunt as your orgasm neared. Hitting you hard as a freight train when his pace doubled to selfishly chase his own release, which due to the tight fluttering of your walls was closer than he realised. 

“Oh fuck.” He spat, pressing you flat into his bed as you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist eager for more of his hammering pace. “That's it. Shi- God you feel fucking good.” You had it in you to laugh then, his whiney voice cracking as he neared his end enough to make you smirk. Though it was wiped from your face when his thrust faltered and stuttered as he came inside you, seemingly unbothered about the consequences. 

Though in that moment you didn’t think about that either, too focused on the feeling of his release inside you. 

It wasn’t the last time you’d be experiencing that tonight. 

~

The morning quickly rolled around, and you slip out of Michael's bed to go and get something to drink, more than thirsty after last night. Bare feet pattering on wooden floorboards, you struggle to find his kitchen again as the house was unfamiliar. Eventually you get there and with your now dry clothes in hand you sit down with a much-needed glass of water. 

You weren’t sat long when you register the sound of footsteps descending stairs, a prickle of dread as you thought it might be Michael. 

"Who the fuck are you?" A gruff voice makes you turn your head towards the door of the kitchen, where a bloke you'd never seen before stood.

"Could ask the same for you." You raise an eyebrow at his curtness. "I'm Michael's... mate." You half-arse explain. The man leans on the doorframe a look of disbelief crossing his face, before he walked into the room smirking and started messing about with a coffee machine.

"What's funny about that?" You ask looking at him, there was resemblance between the two, but Mike would look 10 years younger stood next to his dad. 

"Nothing." He looks you up and down. "Credit to him: you're alright." He answers through a smirk aimed at you. You just laugh, turning your attention to your phone. Not noticing when Mike came to find you.

Glancing up at him you give a nod of acknowledgement before going back to your scrolling. Completely missing when his father gestures towards you with his head, mouthing the word 'respect' to his son, who looked mortified.

"Stop being a dick, pa." Michael snapped. You look up to see what was going on, catching Mr Afton looking away from you with a laugh. And give Michael a raised brow smile, whilst his dad leaves the room, not without another glance in your direction.

"What are you grinning at?" His tone reaks of irritation. Only growing when you point to the empty door saying,

"THAT explains so much." Through a teasing laugh.

"Fuck off."

"I'm trying to, but there isn't a bus for half an hour. And my car is fucked, remember?" He rolled his eyes, going to the coffee machine himself and mumbling when asking you if you wanted some. You did and told him as such.

"Ay, thanks." You say as he sets it down in front of you. Having the curtesy to sit with you while you wait, lest his dad hear his footsteps and sneak in like a fox in a chicken coup.

"You alright?" You ask him, unused to the sensation of being pleasant with each other and so rejecting it, poking him in the ribs.

"Can you be quiet for like 5 fucking seconds?" Each word is near hissed at you.

"What kind of scene would this be, if I was?" You roll your eyes as you take a sip of the coffee he made you. Laughing as you thought of another way to piss him off. "You're one to talk anyway, with all the ‘talking’ you did last night." He turns to your words, face a clear warning.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck. That's it. Like that. Shi- God you feel fucking good-" You mock moan, accompanying it with a lewd gesture that made him look over his shoulder to check his dad hadn’t returned.

"Shut the fuck up!" He rises, "like you didn't have a good time." He says through a face of disgust. You continue giggling, loving how easy it was to wind him up.

"Practically drooling over my cock, like a dirty bitch." You just laugh again; he couldn’t even touch your feelings with that shit.  

Letting silence fall over the two of you, you go back to your phone, giving him a smidge of respite. But he throws it back in your face after a mere two minutes.

"Will you stop tapping your foot, its driving me fucking nuts." And there's your green light to go at him again.

"You're a prick sometimes, Mike." You say, shaking your head. "But your dad- oh, no. He's really hot. Like scary, but scary sexy you get me?"

"Yeah... so's your mam." He snaps, his cheeks red. Instantly looking down when Mr Afton pops back in for something, unsure if you'll continue prodding and dreading if you did.

"Uhhh... my mam is dead, really funny there, mate." You say, your face falling still, and voice cracking on the last part. His whole demeanour changes, as does his father who stands like he's at attention in front of the squadron leader, both as tense as a spring.

"Oh shit, really? I'm sorry I-" He starts, panic flooding his face as he thought you were going to cry.

You laugh out of nowhere, "No. she isn't, Mike. But your fucking face." Mr Afton laughs from across the room, coming over to see the fallout that was about to occur, seeing the indignation on his son’s face and being unable to pity him.

"Ah you've got to bring this one back, Michael. She's fucking class." He says, grinning like a wolf. Mike scowls, despising you even more for ribbing on him with his own fucking dad.

"I should kick you the fuck out." He says exasperated, filled with dislike for you again. Sitting back down but not looking at you.

"Uh.” Mr Afton interjects. “You are not kicking my future daughter-in-law out of this house." You smirk, surprisingly feeling a tickle of guilt at being such a cock to him. 

But you have a feeling that you'll make it up to him later.

[planete777]

꒰ SPICE IT! .:. LN4 + OP81 ꒱ 1k special !

A PLANETE777 SERIES

( lando norris x reader x oscar piastri )

IN WHICH. hotshot couple lando norris and y/n l/n seem to have everything and everyone beneath their feet. with a multimillion business to their name, it's only a shame that their company manager absolutely despises their guts. oscar piastri tries to keep his interactions with his bosses to a minimum, but their proximity decreases to practically nothing when he finds himself in their bed after his inebriation spills what he has tried so hard to keep a secret. it's only supposed to be a one night thing, but he finds himself there again, and again, and again. and, he loves it, just as much as he hates it.

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI!, smut, smut and more smut, many kinks (will be added to appropriate chapters), virgin!oscar, one sided enemies to lovers, so much drama for no reason, high!landoscary/n because uh yes!, other drivers make their own cameo, they're all stupid and in love your honour, some angst, just me having fun with my self indulgence

NOTE. sooooooooo 🙈 as a small present from me to my wonderful, ever-supportive readers, here i give u: spice it! i know it's been a while since i actually hit 1k but took all this time to think of something and plan it out lmao 😭

i'm super super amazed at how over one thousand people are following me and enjoy reading my works so would just like to say a biiiiiig thank you to everyone who has given me support, i will never be able to fathom how amazing you all are <33 i hope you like this present ❤

in terms of upload schedule, there isn't really one for the time being, but i have things planned out and it's just a matter of when i write it. however, i am very hellbent on releasing the chapters every friday or saturday, depends. this series shouldn't be too long, i've got it aimed at around 5-6 parts, so yes, chapters will be very long!!

SIDENOTE. for my boo and biggest cheerleader @mariahcarreyyy!! surprise!! i love you sarah, and all of this is dedicated to u. thank u for everything mwahh 💓💓💓

‧₊˚✩彡 normal taglist : @laciijane @ferrarrigirl @norrizzandpia @mimi-luvzyu @multifandomwhore-003 @nzygftoji

‧₊˚✩彡 series taglist : @burberryfilms @formulaal @st4rshine @woozarts @gramelda @33-81 @mcmuppet @landosgirl519 @eviethetheatrefreak @kamalaei @sourskywalker @starz4me1 @hiireadstuff @black-fireproofs @cabbyhabs @tsukishimawhore @sakuramxchii @jule239 @ln4norizz @earlgreyflowers @crustyboypix (use askbox if you'd like to be added!)

[ if your user is in bold, i am unable to tag you ]

CHAPTERS -> one. two. three. four. five. six.

FIRST CHAPTER RELEASE DATE: 2nd february

POSTPONED TO 10th FEBRUARY

[idleoblivion]

"A Dangerous Muse" Jade Leech x GN Reader

Synopsis: You found him so pretty, it was hard not to get inspired. Still, it felt a little creepy to sketch him without permission. But it’s fine as long as he doesn’t find out, right?

Word Count: ~1.5k

A/N: This was supposed to be like maybe 500 words idk what happened

Warnings: Lots of teasing (I mean, it's Jade), brief Floyd cameo

Your secret wasn’t a particularly bad one, it was mostly just embarrassing. When he sat with his brother and Azul at lunch, when you could catch him during his shift at the lounge, and if you just happened to spot him at random around campus, you would take almost any chance to draw Jade in your sketchbook. They were usually just sketches of him looking poised and gentlemanly as he did whatever task he had taken up at the time. Occasionally though, you caught him being slightly more expressive, smiling in a way that showed his pointed teeth and made his eyes wrinkle. You were more than a little embarrassed of how well you had learned the details of his face, and by the dozen or more pages you’d already filled up with drawings of him. Something about him just felt naturally alluring and intriguing to you, he made the perfect muse.

Right now, you’re sitting at a table in the lounge trying to look like you're studying and not waiting for the appearance of a certain eel. You picked a seat off to the side by yourself like usual to not draw any attention. You were pretty sure you had overheard him in the halls earlier say he was working this afternoon, so it was odd to you that he hadn’t shown up yet. You pull your sketchbook out while you wait and look through some of your previous works. You sigh looking at one of them where you were especially proud of how you captured the mischievous look that he had been wearing, with a predatory glint in his mismatched eyes that-

…Was incredibly similar to the way he was looking at you right now.

You hadn’t seen him enter from the front door or kitchen, he seemingly materialized out of thin air. But he was there now, walking past the other patrons at their tables and headed towards your own. You hurriedly shut your sketchbook and try your best to act casual.

“Oya, what a surprise seeing you here, prefect. Are you here to try our new menu?” His eyes still have a dangerous look to them, and he not so subtly steals a few glances at your sketchbook.

“No actually, I just got done studying. I was getting ready to leave.” You try to grab your sketchbook and leave before he has time to question you further, but his hand reaches out and sits on top of it first.

“Oh, you’re already done? Are you sure? I could take a look at what you’ve been working on and assist you if you need.” He has a knowing smirk on his face that immediately increases your anxiety. His hand is still resting on top of the sketchbook.

“Uh, that won’t be necessary. I can’t afford to be making deals right now and-”

“Why, who said anything about a deal? Can’t I want to help you simply out of the goodness of my heart?” He feigns an innocent expression that you don’t trust in the slightest.

Before you can retort, he grabs the sketchbook off the table and moves to open it. You nearly lunge out of your seat to try and grab it from him but he seems to anticipate it and holds it behind his back, out of your reach. He smiles again at your panicky face.

“Oya, what’s this? Is there something private in this book of yours? I thought you were supposed to be just studying?” 

“I-I was, I just don’t want you doing anything to my notes, I worked hard on them.” His eyes narrow but his smile widens. “Yes, I’m sure you did. I promise I won’t compromise your work, I only intend to look.”

He pulls the sketchbook in front of him again, and you have to resist the urge to attempt to snatch it immediately. He steps forward until he’s too close, in your personal space. You try to back up only to find he has you caught between him and the table. He really leans in, his face only a few inches from you and you feel your cheeks heating up at the unexpected proximity.

“You’re sure all I’m going to find in here is notes, hm?”

Your mouth opens and closes a few times, trying to find another excuse to get you out of this. Him being so close to you certainly isn’t helping you get your thoughts together. He takes advantage of your shocked state and finally opens it to the page you’d been on.

“W-wait, Jade you can’t-”

“My, what’s all this~?”

He holds the book out of your reach again while he flips through the pages. You don’t even move to stop him this time, accepting your humiliating fate. You look away from him in your shame, which makes you miss the way his eyes light up as he skims over your work.

“...You’re certainly a skilled artist, I’ll give you that.” You force yourself to look back at him and gauge how upset at you he is, but his demeanor offers you no clues to what his mood really is. “I’m no critic, but I can appreciate how detailed your drawings are. You must have studied me very intently, no?”

“I…um, I guess? I just draw you whenever I see you around. I’m sorry, I know that’s-” “Why me?” You’re caught off guard by that question, and he repeats, “Why me? There are a plethora of other students you could draw, but as far as I saw, I appear to be your only subject. Why is that?”

Well, there’s no point in lying to him, and you were already so mortified, what’s a little more humiliation?

“You’re really pretty.”

For the very first time, you see Jade look almost dumbstruck. Only for a brief moment though, as his face almost immediately changes to something much more intense. You almost think he’s upset until you realize he’s looking at you with the same face he made at his terrariums, or when he cultivated a new species of mushroom. He was intrigued, you had his full attention and interest and the weight of it was becoming overwhelming the longer he stared at you.

“You…” he trails off for a second then leans in close to you again. “It’s impressive how often you manage to surprise me.”

“I’m sorry, I still should’ve asked. I can stop, really, I will. I’m so sorry.” You spoke fast and quietly, still wishing for nothing more than a way out of this situation.

“Now, there’s no need for that. Artists need to practice regularly to improve their skills, yes? I would hate to take that away from you.” “Huh? So…you want me to keep sketching you?” “Unfortunately, Azul would have a fit if he found out I was offering you a service and not charging anything.” Of course, nothing comes for free in Octavinelle. 

“Well, what would you charge then? Madol? Would I have to wait tables here?” He laughs lightly under his breath.“No, nothing like that. I believe our little deal should be well thought out and discussed, not impulsively decided right here and now. Why don’t you meet me back here this weekend, and we’ll work something out? Just you and I of course, I’m sure we don’t need Azul to mediate. Maybe I could even have you sample some dishes from our new menu during our discussion. There would be no charge for that of course, since you’d be doing me a favor by agreeing.” 

As you look at his face to decipher his intentions, you're left even more confused. Why is he looking at you almost…fondly? And he wants to meet with you completely alone? And he’d offer you food for free? What did he mean by you meeting with him being a favor to him? Was this…a date? What exactly was he implying? He just continued watching you, with his polite and courteous persona that you can never truly read put back on. Still a bit flustered, you try and rationalize why you should or shouldn’t go, before he interrupts your thoughts one last time.

“Oh, and you’re very pretty as well.”

Your face is burning after that. You swallow the lump in your throat before you meekly respond.

“Oh, t-thanks. Um, yeah, this weekend sounds great.” He smiles with his teeth on display again. “I look forward to it, prefect.” He grabs your hand and places a chaste kiss to the back of it before offering you your sketchbook back. You take it without a word, brain completely short circuiting.

Then just as suddenly as he appeared, he was gone. He left you by yourself with your own racing thoughts and heart and headed towards Azul’s office. You quickly gather yourself and get ready to leave. On your way out the door, you suddenly spot Floyd watching you with an amused smirk. He makes some kissy faces and noises at you teasingly and points toward the office where Jade is. Your face gets hot all over again and you rush out of the lounge, hearing Floyd cackle at you as you hurry away.

[cno-inbminor]

repertum (pt. 2 - final)

summary: no matter how much you want alhaitham, you don’t think you can ever have him. he may or may not try to prove otherwise. // cameos from lumine and nahida // wc: ~15.1k

a/n: well, here it is! many, many thanks to @allsaiint for being my beta once again, especially for this monster. i love her to the ends of this universe. fair warning though, the smut at the end is un-beta’d so you’ll probably come across many grammatical/syntax errors. sorry, in advance. 

cw: afab!reader, fem!reader, more angst (but with comfort), 3.4 spoilers, probably some incorrect game lore and timing/mechanics, smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

smut tags: derogatory/degrading terms (slut, cocksleeve, cumslut, cockslut), referring to alhaitham as ‘sir’, size kink, twinges of dacryphilia, one (1) pussy slap, some overstimulation, light bondage (reader’s wrists get tied together), blowjob, cunnilingus, hints of reader entering subspace (dom!alhaitham, sub!reader), will add more if i remember later but i think those are the highlights lol

please read part 1 for context! | AO3 Link for better viewing if the app is being a bitch

-    

As agreed upon you meet Lumine and Paimon on the walkway leading up to the Sanctuary. The traveling duo go inside first, as you’re sure they have much more private and serious matters to discuss. While you wait outside, you gaze over the ledge at the breathtaking view of Sumeru in the direction of the Lokapala Jungle, and its waterfalls still bright even in the darkness of dawn. Taking in everything around you— the breeze and the stars— you feel some peace in your heart knowing you have a place to call home and return to.

The doors swing open with Lumine looking a little less happy than earlier. Paimon mutters – or  at least attempts to – under her breath, while a man with a wide-brimmed hat trails out after them. The traveler provides no explanation,and instead informs you that Lord Kusanali wishes to speak with you for a minute. Perhaps the time together will let you know more about this mysterious man – child? – and why he seems to have put Paimon in such a bad mood.

“Y/N,” the Dendro Archon greets you warmly. Her voice is gentle as ever and full of compassion. “Thank you for coming here. I simply wanted to see if you had everything you needed for your travels and research.”

You show her your bag with thinly-veiled enthusiasm. “Thank you for the opportunity and your consideration of my proposal. The fact that you took the time to read through it and ask me about it really means a lot to me. It was luck that the traveler happened to be heading in that direction as well.”

“She will be a good companion. Please watch over her whenever you can.”

“Of course, though I imagine she’s going to watch over me more than her,” you jest and Lord Kusanali shares your amusement. “Is there anything else you needed?”

“No. May you have safe travels, and please visit whenever you return. I look forward to your findings.”

You bow with as much reverence as possible before waving goodbye to the Archon and heading out the doors. The man from earlier is nowhere to be seen, and Lumine appears more relaxed.

“Everything all good?”

“Yes! Should we head out then?”

“Very well.”

Those with Visions have always fascinated you with the way they could make their weapons appear and disappear, and materialize things in midair. Lumine does so with what appears to be a map of Teyvat, humming to herself as she pinpoints a location. She waves it away with dainty fingers and holds out her hand.

Though confused, you trust she means no ill will and Lumine grips your hand tight when you take hers.

“Teleportation is always a little rough for first timers. Just hold on and you’ll be okay.”

“Teleporta–”

You disappear in a flash of blue light. For a split, disorienting second, you see nothing, and in the next you’re greeted with a view of what appears to be part of the Mawtiyima Forest, if the luminescent treetops are any indication. Slight nausea overcomes you and your stomach does a small turn – shit, she wasn’t lying.

“Are you alright?” Lumine asks with concern, searching through her pack for a remedy..

“Do you want a cold towel?” Paimon adds on and flutters around you to search for any signs of injury.

“I think I just need to breathe for a second,” you say, collapsing against the cliffside. “And sit for a minute.”

“Take your time. We’re quite close to the border. I would’ve taken us straight into Fontaine, but since I’ve never been before, none of those teleport waypoints have been activated.”

You point towards one in front of you. “You mean these?”

“Convenient, right?”

“...very.”

-

Distraught, perhaps, is one way to describe Alhaitham’s current state of mind.

By all means, it makes no sense. Did he get to know you well in an alarmingly short amount of time? Sure. Did he really look forward to those initial 36 hours passing, to the point where he felt time was crawling by at a turtle’s pace? Perhaps. Was he trying to satiate a curiosity that he had never really felt before and attempting to answer a personal unknown? In some way.

The attempting-to-resign Acting Grand Sage has read his fair share of historical texts – especially conflicts driven by love and lust. A force so powerful that it could twist the minds of even the brightest and most logical – what was that like? From a young age, he was only ever introspective in an academic sense, and the scholars touted him to be a genius. But feelings, emotions, felt abstract and out of reach as he grew up. He only ever understood his lust as a byproduct of his development as explained in the textbooks. A branch of psychology mixed with biology described everything from why humans feel attraction and the need to copulate to what is deemed healthy and alluring in a potential partner, all in the name of posterity and evolution.

Alhaitham first concluded his initial draw towards you could be explained away by all of these findings.It didn’t quite fit all the checkboxes, but enough for him to deem it understandable and valid. Those checkboxes had been visited once before when he lost his virginity, but that was all there was to it. He wouldn’t be blind enough to deny that it was a pleasurable experience, but there were other, more pressing matters at hand. Yet, even after drawing his conclusion, nothing academic could help explain why his desire to be near you was so strong. The more carnal desires took a backseat to his need to pick your brain, to make you laugh, or to have you challenge him. He learned as many of your little mannerisms as possible, all the while pretending he was completely unfazed by your presence. Your different smiles, your nervous movements, your stressed looks, your interests and dislikes – he wanted to know all of them, and not so he could store it in his brain for cautionary purposes. It was all for the sake of getting to know you.

And then he became greedy.

Another sin Alhaitham didn’t quite understand before meeting you was the growing, bubbling pit of a constant want want want for you to be by his side. To have the fantasies of coveting your soul, retching on the inside at the mere thought of others seeing you the way he did you – he was starting to see why individuals were so often thrown into a fit of rage over their loved ones and why the law has separate stipulations regarding “crimes of passion.”

And even as he sits at his usual table in his usual seat (especially on days when he really doesn’t want to be in his office during work hours), sending glares to anyone who dared to approach him or even come near your seat (which was very much not your seat by any legal means), he finds himself buried in books of philosophy. Not that they are so far out of his usual reading, for they typically align with his understanding that there are universal questions that will never be answered yet should be stated, but he has never felt the need to dive deeper than the tip of the iceberg on different schools of thought. One line in particular catches his attention, however.

“Reason is, and ought only to be the slave of the passions.”**

Moral philosophy, the area where this statement hails from, was intriguing, yet Alhaitham knew the respected experts could talk in circles for days and do their best to argue their reasoning. This particular philosopher suggests that passion is the cause for reason, for understanding why humans do the things they do. And as the word connotation suggests, there is no room to discuss whether or not this line of thought is rational. Just as passion drives reason, reason can also serve as the breeding ground for the passions.

Abstruse to several, esoteric to many, ambiguous to the masses – Alhaitham wonders if he’s found some sort of solution to his internal dilemmas. To have it all summed up in a single sentence resonates deeply with him. Simple and succinct, yet speaking volumes to the implications; finally with a deep breath.

The next day in his office, he leans and falls back into his seat, gaze focused on the domed ceiling above. He’s always hated this chair; far too grand and impractically large. One thing he doesn’t mind is the proportionate size of the desk, as he’s learned over the years that if you give him the space, he will inadvertently cover every inch of it with his materials. Even with their dwindling number of research applications, he manages to fill the voids with his own research, books laid open and aged parchment collecting dust. For being so far above the ground level of the House of Daena, it makes sense that silence is usually his sole companion, as he tends to ignore the other researchers and matra milling around. But there must have been some memo sent out because no one is there today, and no one has come up in hours.

Surprisingly, he finds the quietude and quiescence unnerving rather than welcoming, so much so he removes his treasured earpieces and places them in his lap. The white noise he’s often found bothersome is… comforting?

A distraction, perhaps, from the absence of you.

A long, heavy sigh leaves his chest as he pulls himself up and ambles over to a locked filing cabinet with all the approved research project applications. Before he became Acting Grand Sage, the remaining applications had been split between him, Lord Kusanali, and a few other individuals. First sorted by subject area and then by last name, he rifles through with an absent mind until he catches your name on a tabbed folder. Alhaitham wastes no time plucking it from the confines of the drawer and opening it, taking care to make sure the stacks of reports and research diagrams don’t spill out onto the floor. Kaveh would have a field day if he knew just how enraptured he was by the mere sight of your handwriting. He may even take him to Lord Kusanali herself for psychological treatment or interrogation because there was no way this Alhaitham was his same sarcastic, scathing, infuriating roommate – and despite the slight amusement the thought gives him, he cannot ignore the painful pull in his chest.

It’s been five weeks since you were last seen in Sumeru, and five weeks since he had knocked on your apartment door only to be greeted by your next-door neighbor, who announced you’d left early in the morning with no definitive time of return and no mention of your destination. You would be back eventually, but would it be in six days or six months? Nobody seemed to be the wiser.

He had had half a mind to reach out to Cyno and call in a special favor to track you down for his own internal peace, but he knew the request would be irrational and unnecessary. So once a week, he stops by your apartment to see if you’ve returned, and with each unsuccessful visit and your doormat collecting more and more dust, his heart sinks just a little bit lower. If he wasn’t in his current position, he’d be halfway across the desert by now (and ultimately in the complete opposite direction) under the guise of searching for ancient ruins. Merely searching for facts and truth; nothing more, nothing less.

All to say, Alhaitham wishes he had looked through this filing drawer earlier because the file on his desk contained all the answers to his questions of your whereabouts.

The relief of knowing you were safe in a nearby nation surges through every vein in his body, tension in his muscles disappearing with the rays of sunlight beating down from the stained-glass window above. He would’ve been much more concerned if you’d gone to Inazuma – even if this Captain Beidou that Lumine spoke highly of was more than adept at crossing the treacherous seas from Liyue, the mere possibility of you falling overboard or being forced to stay in the nation was still unsettling, to say the least.

Leaning his weight onto the desk, Alhaitham drinks in everything your research has to offer. There are a few mistakes and edits that could be rectified here and there, but nevertheless, it is well done. He remembers now seeing some of these papers before, as notes you had been scribbling down on some early afternoons in the cafe. Pleased isn’t enough to describe the hum in his chest when he notices some of his suggestions incorporated into your application, fondly recalling the moments when you had picked each other’s brain regarding the topic at hand. Never once did you mention that any of this had been in preparation for your big research journey, but he would be remiss not to believe recent events had served as the catalyst for your sudden departure.

“Do come back to me,” he murmurs to no one. As he lifts his head, the cosmical, automated orb— reminiscent of an Auspicious Branch— just above the elevator platform seems to mock him. It’s An inaccurate teller of time as it spins and spins in its orbit, and Alhaitham yearns for the day you return home.--

The day you return to him.

-

Traveling with Lumine is fascinating, to say the least.

Ignoring the fact that feeding Paimon is like feeding three grown adults, watching the Traveler gather and store every fruit and herb and loot in sight makes you wonder what kind of life she had led before all of this. The way she takes down some wayward Treasure Hoarders is a sight to see, like a well-rehearsed dance. It lends to your understanding of why the term is “martial arts” because the way Lumine maneuvers around the enemies and her sword is, very much so, an art.

But more time together means more time into probing the real reason you’ve decided to come to Fontaine with her, and for whatever reason, she is really good at getting you to spill the beans. Lumine’s heard most of your life story at this point.

“Who are you running from?” she asks one night. After checking in with the Adventurer’s Guild in Fontaine’s capital, you’ve joined Lumine in her journey around the nation to activate the rest of the teleport waypoints. You send her your sheepest look, begging with your eyes for her to not ask anymore. But you’ve skirted around this topic the last few weeks and you figure it’s time for her to know.

With a heavy breath, you set down your bowl of biryani on the grass. “Promise you won’t judge?”

“Promise.”

“...it’s Alhaitham.” The crackling of the little campfire Lumine had put together is deafening, even louder than the ripples and waves of the river crashing onto the sand in front of them.

Naturally, Paimon speaks up first, though speaking is an understatement.  “Alhaitham?! You mean that– that super mean Acting Grand Sage? The know-it-all? Can’t really care less about others? Condescending?”

“That’s a pretty big word there, Paimon–” Lumine cuts in.

“Hey!”  

“See?” you respond, the smile on your face small, awkward, and bittersweet. “Things happened and well… I thought it’d be better if we stopped seeing each other.”

“You were seeing each other?!!”

“Paimon, stop!” Lumine interjects and shoots the floating fairy a disapproving glare.

You really wish you had some alcohol with you right now.

“Well…”

For the next several minutes, you provide a detailed summary of how you came to meet and learn more about Alhaitham, the nature of the budding relationship, how all your insecurities came to a head on that night, and how you ended up here. Lumine remains silent when you finish explaining everything, clearly thinking through all the information and trying to find the right words to say.

“You know,” she begins, “Alhaitham may be one of the most infuriatingly logical men that I’ve ever met. And a really good actor, too. Remind me to tell you the details of what he did when we rescued Nahida.”

“...I don’t think that makes me feel any better.”

“I’m just saying, but I also think you know by now that Alhaitham isn’t someone who does anything that isn’t for his own benefit, in some way.”

“Again, not helping.”

“What I’m trying to say is if he just wanted to get his dick wet, I’m sure there are plenty of other people who would agree to help out in much less time.”

To which, Lumine has a point. A very good point. But still you say, “He’s super picky though, I don’t think he’d just sleep with anyone regardless.”

“Which brings me to my original point: he picked you for a reason.”

“Because I’m easy?”

Lumine flicks your forehead before you can even blink, and with a decent amount of force as well. Your resulting indignant yelp pierces the atmosphere as you rub the sore spot. “What was that for?!”

“For being unreasonable. I’m trying to say that you must be special to him, that’s all.”

“... but what if he didn’t want to see me again after sleeping together? Sure, let’s say that I am ‘special’, heavy emphasis on my air quotes right now, but I want more, an actual relationship. How do I know that’s also what his end goal is?”  

“You don’t,” Lumine affirms. “But there’s no use in wading through the what-ifs. You know what you want, and I think you’re allowed to communicate that to him, regardless of what he says.”

It’s hard to come to terms with the underlying implication that you’re being something of a coward, with not a whole lot of reason to be. You’re grateful for the open water before you, its lullaby comforting with the breeze it brings. Years of academic research have made you painfully familiar with the concept of trial and error, but to apply it to human relationships? It leaves much to be undesired. Five weeks, in the grand scheme of things, are certainly nothing more than a miniscule blip of time. But in your limited life with the overhanging unknowns of the world, it was a sizable enough amount of time filled with passive rumination and downward spirals.

“You’ll figure it out when you get there. But I’m warning you, we’ve still got a lot of ground to cover.”

You can’t help but laugh in relief. “That is completely okay, I promise you.”

Running away might as well be your newly developed skill at this point.

-

A few weeks later

“I mean, I could stay with you there in Fontaine, right? You know, extra set of hands and all?”

“You’re not getting out of this.”

“Lumiiinneee,” you whine, petulant pout making itself known.

“Just talk to him – whatever happens, happens. If it’s not meant to be, then it’s not meant to be. But you owe it to yourself to say your piece, as well as to him for an explanation that he needs to hear. Now go.”

She all but (gently) shoves you into the Akademiya, watching over you with an encouraging wave of her hand. When you’re less than five steps away from the door into the House of Daena, you look over your shoulder once more for any signs of escape. As expected, the Lumine-shaped obstacle stands firm in her spot.

You clutch your final report to your chest, mind racing with a thousand thoughts per second, and don’t even realize you’ve already made it to the elevator platform. And once it gives a mechanical shudder and starts to go up, you want to scream and simultaneously steal a glider to jump off and land safely back on the ground level.

Is it good or bad luck that no one seems to be around? Maybe he won’t be at his desk and you can just leave the report there and fucking bolt. Maybe it’s not even Alhaitham in the Grand Sage’s chair. Maybe the man is gone altogether and is somewhere in the desert looking at ancient runes.

Maybe he just doesn’t care anymore and has forgotten about you. Maybe he told himself to let bygones be bygones, and that you were simply another scholar in the Akademiya. No one special.

Your initial hopes of his coincidental absence are dashed as you walk up the stairs. His silver hair stands out among the sea of azure and viridian, and he doesn’t even bother to look up from the stack of papers in his hand. Not that you were a bull in a china shop by any means, but the man would even notice with his eyes closed if there was a fly on the complete opposite side of the office. Your heart is ready to burst from your chest with each shaky step, and too soon, you stand in front of his sprawling desk.

“My office hours will be ending in a few minutes,” he states in a matter-of-fact tone without looking at you. You risk a sharp inhale at the sound of his voice, an all too familiar mix of gentility and sternness. “If it’s something that requires more than that length of time, come back tomorrow.”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck – “I’m just, um, turning in a research report?”

At the sound of your voice, Alhaitham doesn’t even bother to amuse himself. He’d much rather not look and not be disappointed, than to do so and become reacquainted with dashed hopes. “...And the necessary cover sheet is on top? Does it have your name, project number, and corresponding title?”

“Y-Yes.”

Still perusing through the paperwork in his hands, he frees one hand to point it at a basket on his far-right corner. “Leave it there. Your advisors and I will be reviewing it within the next two weeks.”

“Oh, o-okay.”

You do as instructed, but with each second that passes without any eye contact or direct acknowledgement of your presence, you begin to wonder if he’s purposely ignoring you. Or maybe he forgot about you entirely and wrote you off as a failed pursuit. Perhaps that would be the best-case scenario and you could hole up in your apartment for the rest of… eternity. Maybe. Lumine can come and scold you later and you can take it like a champ.

But your heart, ever so fickle and occasionally diabolical, plays one last card and causes you to stop at the top of the stairs. “Have a good night,” you muster out. “Thank you, Alhaitham.”

The rustling of his papers ceases as you turn and hurry down the steps, taking extra care to not trip over your feet. Just before you can activate the elevator, a frazzled “Y/N?” is called from above. With sweaty hands, a sullen heart, and a leadened brain, you nervously orient towards the scholar inhabiting your dreams, who stands on the edge of the platform above and peers down to confirm his suspicion. His stance looks as if he had leapt over his desk and sprinted at top speed towards you.

You’re not sure how to take it all in, how to take him in – the “feeble scholar”, for once, appears as such. If possible, his cheeks seem a little more sunken in, further accentuating the sharp edges of his jawline. His hair looks mussed, as if he’d run his hands through it several times too many. The cloak around his shoulders rests askew from his sudden movements.

But his eyes—

Those seafoam irises and amber pupils pierce through your soul, but not in an inquisitive and calculating manner. In fact, it’s quite the opposite – he looks unsure, disbelieving, and hesitant. To elicit such a reaction from this man should be recorded in the most prominent historical annals, but you do have to admit it’s a bad look on him.

When you open your mouth to say something, anything, the elevator begins its descent. Any words you had are wiped from your mind, and you do everything you can to maintain this staredown. Weeks ago, you couldn’t even begin to guess what this man would be feeling based on his eyes, but now? His heart is on his sleeve, and you can’t help the green envy in your veins at the possibility that others have seen him in such a vulnerable state.The constant battle between an illusional desire to be his everything and knowing that you never could and never should be, rages on.

You’re the first to look away. Sorry, Lumine, you think, as Alhaitham’s figure disappears from view. All you’re left with is the rotating orb above, spinning and spinning until it makes you sick to your stomach. You just want to get back to your apartment and start sweeping the dirt away, to return to some sense of normalcy before all of… this appeared. You never should’ve indulged in your whimsical desires.

-

Alhaitham hovers in a state of shock as he watches the elevator take you back down – after weeks of catching a glimpse of who he thinks is you at the cafe, hearing your voice in his head as he scribbles away on paperwork, or dreaming of escaping his duties to find you in Fontaine, he’s not sure if he really believes you were here or if it was some effective lucid dreaming. But the sudden pull, the impulsive need to just check the cover sheet when his name left your lips, was far too strong and he had dived right in without a second thought.

And there in your handwriting, in all its glory, was your name printed neatly at the bottom. One second, he was at his desk and the next, he was at the edge of the outer office ring for confirmation.

The last few minutes of his workday have never gone slower as he paces back and forth in front of his desk. He’s doing his best to stay calm and formulate a plan, but even that has become difficult for him. There are too many extraneous factors at play, several he can’t be sure of – did you meet someone new in Fontaine? Were you going to leave again?

Did you even want to see him?

You could’ve left without another word once your research paper landed in that return basket. He would’ve been none the wiser until he physically picked up the report, which probably wouldn’t have happened for another few days, what with all the cleaning up he’s trying to do before his resignation is official. All that lost time in between would have left him even more distraught.

But the fact that you had stopped and made a point to thank him, to call him out by name, means something. Like him, it seems you are just as unsure of where the two of you stand.

And that’s all he needs to move forward.

-

Granted, moving forward didn’t initially involve climbing up the fire escape ladder behind your apartment building.

With a takeout bag of your favorite foods from Lambad’s Tavern, he was originally going to knock on your front door like any other individual. But before his knuckles could rap against the Adhigama wood, he thought, why not check to see if you’re even home? That would eliminate the possibility of you seeing him through the peephole and then pretending you’re not home – or worse, you opening it and then slamming it back in his face.

His unparalleled logic led him to skip the ladder and jump onto the first floor. It’s not that he wouldn’t be able to climb it with one free hand – the food would’ve gotten messy with all the jostling around. He ignores the sound of laughing children as he ambles past, but allows the semblance of a grin to dawn his face when he hears, “Whoa, look at that mister!” Alhaitham looks above him as he climbs the next set of stairs, noticing a light peeking through the living room window. That’s one good sign, at least, because it means you’re home, right? He peers past the half-open curtains when he arrives at your floor. He’s just checking. Nothing suspicious or untoward. Yet all of that is scrapped— another deviation from his initial plan— when he sees you sitting on your couch, sorting through a pile of mail on your coffee table. With a mind of their own, his knuckles knock lightly against the glass and he can’t help but let a humorous snort slip out when your body jerked with a visceral startle, head whipping towards the source of your adrenaline spike.

You don’t need to verbally question his sudden appearance when it’s written all over your face.  Your eyebrows are knitted and arched, mouth turned down in a slight frown, hands clenched in fists with visible tension and unease. “Alhaitham, what– I mean–”

He holds up the food behind the windowpane for you to see. “I wanted to bring you dinner since you probably don’t have anything prepared on your first night back.”

Without another word, you slide open the window, letting him clamber through as you take the bag from him. He retrieves it as you lock the window and yank the curtains together, setting it on the table away from a mound of what he presumes to be junk mail. You scramble for words and coherency as you search for clean plates and utensils, but the effort is fruitless. There’s a trapped shriek in your chest and you don’t know how to snuff it out.

Dinner is a quiet affair, save for some awkward small talk here and there. He makes it a point to give you extras, whether it be a little more mint cilantro or tamarind chutney for the samosas (despite it being his favorite) or more of the lamb from the biryani. Each little morsel pushes your heart further up your throat, further sending you into a downward spiral. Why is he so kind and caring when you had essentially kicked him out last time? Why is he going out of his way to make up for a wrong he never committed?

Alhaitham basks in your company, taking in every detail of your outward appearance. You seem skinnier than before, hair just a little bit longer. A few fresh, healing cuts on your hand stand out to him and he hopes they were all accidental and not intentionally created by another human being. There’s so much he wants to say and question, but for once he cannot find the right words. Rarely has he ever felt as though he was skating on paper-thin ice with someone – years of not caring or sparing thoughts for how others might perceive him lends nothing to resolve his state of incertitude. So the only way he can currently try to communicate is through actions, hence the extra foods and your favorite parts of them, making sure you have a usable napkin at all times, refilling your cup of water when it starts to look low, and more.

With a full belly, you sigh with satisfaction, a breath that appeases Alhaitham just the slightest bit. “That was good. Thank you for bringing it.”

“You’re welcome. Was the food in Fontaine not to your taste?”

You hum in thought. “A bit bland, honestly. Not as many spices are used in their foods like they are here.”

“Ah.”

The two of you sit silently for a few moments. You’re looking anywhere and at anything but him, your knee bouncing and hands wringing together. Is he trying to let you down easy? Soften the blow? What is his end goal?

His fingers tap the table in a silent rhythm, noticing that despite the small talk, the tension in the air is still viscous. He ignores the gnawing desire to hold your hand and squeeze it tight, to graze his thumb over those scabs and kiss them. He’s not ready to leave yet, which is why he juts his chin towards the only unopened bag on the table and says, “I also brought dessert. Would you care to have some now?”

No. Yes. I don’t know. I can think of something else I want for dessert but that’s not the point right now, is what runs through your head.

“Sure. What is it? I might have something to go with it.”

“It’s baklava.”

For him to remember that baklava from Pupusa Cafe is your preferred dessert when eating your favorite dishes is even more mind-boggling in this whole situation.

You stand on shaky legs and walk towards the pantry. “Does wine sound okay?”

Alhaitham ponders your last mutual experience with alcohol, which had ended in a disaster, even if he knew full well that it wasn’t a cause by any means; an unintended catalyst. As long as neither overindulged, it would be harmless. Right?

So he nods. “That sounds good.”

You return with a corkscrew opener, two stemless wine glasses, and one of your better bottles of aged wine. Alhaitham remains silent as he takes the opener from you and drives it into the cork, hand twisting the top knob with ease. You feel shameless in the way you stare at his arms, watching his muscles flex. The veins in his hand become more visible and you can see the tension in his forearm through his arm guards, all the more when he pushes the levers closed and wiggles the cork out of its confines. He takes good care to tactfully remove the cork and place it on the table, and pours a glass for you first.

“Thank you,” you murmur as you take it from him with both hands, ignoring the way his fingers seem to linger after making contact with yours. You portion out the baklava as he pours a glass for himself and he voices his gratitude in turn.    

As you nibble on the delicacy, the silence weighs heavily on your chest, both a burden and a source of comfort. “Did you find everything you needed in Fontaine for your research?” he asks, once again attempting to make some neutral conversation. Alhaitham has never been one for sweets, but he’s willing to eat it for and with you. The cafe’s baklava is one of few desserts he can handle, as it’s not as sickeningly sweet as some other places’ when they’ve added too much syrup.

You chew slowly as you think of your answer. “I think so. I feel pretty good about my report.”

“I’ll be sure to read it soon,” he responds. After all, he is a pretty quick reader, and with the dwindling number of research project applications, he can efficiently get through the other reports to make sure he reviews yours before he goes back to being the Scribe.

“You know, there’s no need to rush on my account,” you say. Honestly, that’s the last thing you need because it would confirm your worst fears and assumptions. Everything discussed with Lumine would’ve been tossed violently out the window, and you so badly don’t want it to manifest.

“...I won’t,” he assures you. Alhaitham understands your research paper needs to be treated like every other one passing through the Akademiya, especially if he is going to be one of the formal reviewers.

You feel your lungs losing air, your heart rate soaring through the roof. With a stroke of luck, your glasses of wine are finished off and the plates hold nothing but crumbs, which provides a perfect excuse for you to get up and get away.

“I’m gonna wash the dishes,” you announce, voice doing little to hide how nervous and shaky you’re feeling. It’s another miracle that you don’t drop anything on the trek from the dining table to the sink as you wonder if you’ve killed any chance of being with Alhaitham. Where was the confidence you possessed when you first met the man?

Even being mere meters away from him becomes painful. His presence alone provides a sense of security, strong and silent. The lack of warmth, the string between you two pulled taut, ignites an obdurate yearning – the very same yearning experienced when you spent days avoiding the man prior to your departure for Fontaine. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, as they all say, and there certainly was some merit to it.

The silence remains suffocating, in some ways, but also comforts you with its deep pressure, distracting you enough that you fail to notice Alhaitham moving around. He removes his cloak and earpieces, draping them neatly over the couch armrest before he comes to stand next to you at the sink. He grabs a towel and is ready to dry when you’re done washing the dishes. Your muscles begin to relax, that earlier frost of loneliness gradually dissipating with his presence nearby. He dries everything with the utmost care and lines them up neatly as you hand them over, and you ignore the little brushes of his fingers against yours with each relinquished plate. You can’t help but wonder if he can feel the heat emanating from your cheeks because honestly, you feel like your face is on fire.

Alhaitham finishes drying off the last item – the second stemless wine glass – and turns to lean his back against the counter with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He waits as you rinse down the sink and passes you the towel to dry off your hands. Your timid smile leaves him hopeful that you’re not visibly shying away from him— not visibly, at least. Seconds pass, and now there is nothing left for you to do or keep yourself busy. He waits for you to gather your bearings and settle to show that you’re ready to talk about… whatever this is.

Those haunting irises suddenly meet his with an alarming amount of determination, holding steadfast and searching his for something, anything. He can’t bear to lose and look away, not that he wants to. Yet you remain quiet, and Alhaitham leans into his impulses.

With firm, sure hands, he pulls you toward his original spot and lifts you up just enough so that you’re sitting on the counter. Alhaitham plants them by your waist and bends down to be level with your gaze, which now holds hints of fear and surprise. They’re open wide, your pupils slowly dilating, and he catches a glimpse of your fingers curling around the edges of the counter. He so badly wants to cradle your face in his hands, to feel your physical presence and prove to himself that you’re really here before him. But that is intimacy he hasn’t quite been granted yet and he can’t mess this up. He must’ve done something wrong the last time he was here, and he most certainly doesn’t want to risk the same outcome again.

“I like you,” he proclaims with a resolute tone. Alhaitham has always hated beating around the bush when unnecessary, and at this point he needs it said out loud for you to know. “I have been attracted to you since the moment we met, and I used to believe that it was purely a biological response. But then I wanted to know more about you. I wanted to learn more about who you are and how your mind works. To be quite honest, I can’t stand the thought of anyone else being in my position right now. I will not hide the fact that I am selfish and want you all for myself, if you would have me.”

You are struggling so hard to keep the smile off your face, your mouth pursing while your teeth dig into the inside of your bottom lip. Three months ago, you would never have seen this coming, and you would have laughed in anyone’s face if they had suggested it.

“If you need time, I can wait. I am not always the most patient person, but for you, I am willing to do so. And–”

“I was worried that you wouldn’t want to see me again after having sex,” you interject and confess. The embarrassment of your thoughts and actions quickly becomes a heavy weight in your chest. Your nerves strain to get the better of you and shut you down before saying more, but you force yourself to push past them. Alhaitham provided you with honesty and transparency, and he deserves the same from you. “We had so much tension between us and I was worried that once it was all resolved, you wouldn’t feel the need to see me again.”

Alhaitham takes a moment to process your words, but he can still see the tension in your shoulders. You won’t meet his gaze as you look past him or at other parts of his body. “There’s something else, is there not?”

You look down at your hands in your lap, your fingers intertwined and fingertips applying pressure where they land. With how forthcoming he has been, you owe it to him to extend the same courtesy, despite how silly it feels now.

“I couldn’t understand why you would even like me,” you say, voice soft and barely audible in the silence. You’re unable to mask the melancholy in your tone when you remember how it felt to internally question his affections and assume the worst. A quiet chuckle slips past your lips, but it’s derisive and bittersweet. “I’m just another scholar and you— you were the Scribe and later Acting Grand Sage. I thought maybe people would accuse me of… providing sexual favors, to put it lightly, if you showed me any leniency or favoritism in my academic career.��

The back of your knuckles brush against his cheek as you lift your head up to take him in. “You could have anyone in the world and you deserve nothing but the best. So why me?”

“I would need a few all-nighters and several pieces of paper to pen down every reason why.”

His quick reasoning with all indicators of certainty – his tone, the lack of any dishonesty in his eyes, the way he holds your eye contact – takes you for a loop. You’re only able to let out a soft “oh” as you let the implications of his words swim in your brain, leaving you helpless to find a suitable response. How do you follow up on an answer like that?

When he feels your fingers slipping down his jawline, he stops it with his own to press his cheek into your palm. “If it provides you any comfort, I will no longer be the Acting Grand Sage by next week. You know how long I’ve waited for them to process and approve of my resignation. And as the Scribe… it still does not matter. People who would assume something so salacious are simply capitalizing on their own insecurities, and they do not deserve a second of your time or an ounce of room in your thoughts. I do my best to exercise fairness and reason in all matters for the Akademiya, and even as my partner you would not be safe from that.

“I’ve never shied away from telling you how things are and you know this. I can ensure you would not earn any favoritism or leniency within the boundaries of the Akademiya, should my presence be involved in your research.”

The smirk that creeps up at the corner of his lips ignites a small flame in your belly – thrill and heat and trepidation all melding together. “Now, outside of those boundaries, it’s a different matter. If I may pry once more, what is your answer?”

Liquid fire pumps from your heart and into your veins, further fueling the heat in your core. Just as it dips dangerously lower, so does your hand, and the other joins in lightly scraping your nails down his abdomen. You feel him jump beneath your touch and relish in the sound of his swallow, and how his breath hitches when your fingertips dip into the band of his pants. They tug him forward until he’s standing between your thighs, just centimeters of nothingness between you two. Even as close as he is, Alhaitham can’t help but think there’s still too much space unoccupied.

Your eyes scream, beseeching him to understand your actions and for him to respond in kind. It can only mean one thing, but he wants to hear those words. He wants it engraved in his memories for the rest of time, despite the desperation to give in and give you both what you desire and need. Alhaitham grasps your chin between his thumb and curled index finger, leaning forward closer and closer until his lips barely touch yours.

“Use your words.”

Arousal seeps through your underwear as the subdued tenor of his voice sends shivers down your spine. Wholly unfair, this man is. Devilish, demanding, teasing, controlling – but most of all, he is yours.

“Please let me have you, if you will have me,” you whisper against his lips, eyelashes fluttering closed at the faint touch.

No sooner when you are greeted by darkness does he fully slot his mouth against yours, hands gripping tightly on your hips to pull you against him. A groan slips past and into you because gods, he’s missed this so much. After nights of waking up with the ghost of your kisses, he never wants this to end and longs for a reality where time can stop and he can take his sweet, sweet time to worship every millimeter of your body with his lips, and then some. Excitement electrifies his whole body when you reciprocate his desire ounce for ounce, and even more so when you let out a pretty little whine, just for him.

When he pulls back for a chance to breathe, he doesn’t move far. “Good girl,” he praises so sweetly, the words washing over you in something akin to pride for eliciting his approval and pleasing him. Alhaitham slides the tip of his nose against yours, moving to kiss your forehead, then your cheeks, your jawline, and the pulse point on your neck. Even the slightest pressure has you tilting your head to the side, granting him permission and room to do as he pleases. Alhaitham bides his time to press whispers of kisses onto your skin until he nips a sensitive spot. A sharp inhale pierces through the kitchen when he sucks on the patch of skin caught between his teeth, taking the utmost care to break the little capillaries underneath. He wants you to experience his phantom touches on these spots in the hours when he’s away from you, a constant reminder that you are his and his alone.

Your fingers dig into Alhaitham’s silver locks, torn between pressing him further into your neck and pulling him away. “Haitham,” you plead and tug on his strands, which only prompts an even harsher abrasion from him. “Wanna kiss you.” Your voice is breathy, and you feel as if you’re on the verge of tears. Who is he to deny such a reasonable request?

Though instead, he pulls you off the counter and rushes to your bedroom with you in tow, granting your wish as soon as you enter. The back of his knees hit the foot of your bed and Alhaitham drags you with him when he sits on top of your blankets. Despite your eagerness to clamber over and straddle him, he disapproves when you attempt to exercise a modicum of control over the situation by leveraging some height over him, utilizing gravity to lean into his embrace and kisses. His palms slide up your thighs with reverence until they dig into the crevice of your hips and yank them down. To have you pressed fully against him is most certainly a blessing, and there’s no way you don’t feel his growing arousal against yours.

When he feels his bottom lip stuck between your teeth, Alhaitham smiles. It still seems you’re not fully understanding the position you’re in. Perhaps, he might need to remind you of just who exactly is succumbing to who.

You keen when his hands dip underneath your shirt to draw meaningless patterns into your waist, but also to make his mark as he holds tight enough that you think you would feel some internal bruising tomorrow. They dance higher and higher, until they meet the bottom seam of your bra, and you nearly choke with the arousal suffocating your lungs.

“Can I?” Alhaitham almost begs, but watches for any sign of hesitation.

“Yes,” you breathe back. You lift your arms up, waiting with thinning patience, and he wastes no time in following through, tossing the shirt to the side with one hand as the other busies to unhook the metal clasp of your bra. Soon enough, your upper body is bare for him to see, to touch, to love – and his breath is taken away because you are so, so beautiful; perfect breasts with hardened nipples, an empty canvas all for him. He made a mistake last time for not seeing them properly, having been too focused on the way they felt against his chest instead.

“Fuck me,” he murmurs. His subsequent scoff feels derisive, sardonic, self-destructive, and his thumbs ghost over your areolas. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous – this is unfair.”

“You’re the one who’s unfair,” you retaliate with a shaky breath as you nearly tear off his shirt. One look at his muscular and toned frame, and it takes everything to stop the drool from spilling past your lips. “Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

“Be careful,” he warns, his fingers digging into the flesh just underneath your breasts. Alhaitham holds onto you as he scoots further back onto the bed, and once he deems there’s enough room, he rolls over until he’s hovering above you, panting and hair splayed and lips swollen. “I’m just a feeble scholar.”

When you roll your eyes with an excessive amount of sass, he dips down to capture your right nipple in his mouth and gives a harsh suck as punishment, satisfied when all defiance on your face morphs into pleasure. Pretty, responsive, little angel, all for him, so sweet, so delicate, so adorable when your spine arches into his mouth and continues to suspend itself as he pays his respects to your other breast. You feel your conscience become fuzzier and fuzzier, dissolving into mush as the tendrils of overstimulation begin to grow, and once again, you find yourself torn between wanting to let him continue and wanting him to stop.

He decides to grant you some mercy when you can’t help but twitch and shy away. Alhaitham’s primal desires begin to crest and wash away any rationale, desperate to keep the taste and feel of your skin between his lips and on his tongue. He doesn’t quite understand this newfound desire to nip and bite, but all he knows is that when he does, his arousal pulses and nearly threatens to break past the seam of his pants. Alhaitham moves lower, lower, ghosting past your stomach, nudging past the band of your bottoms and underwear to tug them down all the way. Those are thrown out of view and he finally, finally, gets to continue from where he last left off, taking no time to push your legs away towards your chest and give a lascivious lick up the length of your cunt. The tip of his tongue meets your clit at the end of its journey, and he firmly holds you down when your hips buck into his mouth as it circles the nub.

It’s game over when he takes it fully in his mouth.

Your hands twist themselves once more into his silver hair, expletives slipping off your tongue as you chase your high. You feel your pussy clench around nothing the higher you climb, the coil in your core winding tighter and tighter. He eats you out like a man starved, enthusiasm unveiled and clear. His passion unbridled and sending you further into the clouds, you feel tears in your eyes begin to well up from sheer bliss, so sensitive and so unbelievably unprepared for everything this man was going to give you tonight. “Haitham,” you cry over and over, his name a mantra and prayer.

When he leans back, you catch a glimpse of the sheen on his chin and the way his eyes remain focused on your arousal, pupils blown. “You taste so good,” he compliments, his voice somehow having dropped an octave lower. “Could eat you out for hours. So good for me, fuck.” It’s dangerous how much you love to hear him curse, knowing that you are the reason why. The rational, feeble, well-spoken scholar, his prose extending to situations such as now, is almost reduced to such crude and filthy vocabulary.

Alhaitham would need to be blind to miss your sticky precum practically spilling from your core after what he said. It’d be a shame to let any of it go to waste, he muses, as he drags his tongue up the length of your cunt and pays attention to your clit again. He watches for every reaction, what makes you tug him closer, what makes your body twitch and convulse, what causes the shakiest exhales from your lungs, what contributes to your squeals and cries – he wants you to get a taste of just how unhinged he becomes in your presence.

Each moment of friction, so wet and slick, against your core seems to send you further and further into oblivion. Tears overflow when your heart bursts and Alhaitham doesn’t miss them – the sheen sliding down the sides of your face shines in the moonlight and he knows there is no reason to fear you’re in pain. He drinks in your moans and feels your fingers tangle further in his silver strands, nails scraping lightly against his scalp, your hips with a mind of their own as you grind against his tongue and nose to chase your release. Alhaitham pays no mind to the way his cock twitches once more in his pants or the unmistakable wet spot that’s formed from his own precum.

The coil in your abdomen wounds tighter and tighter. There is nothing on your mind but the man between your legs and your impending orgasm, one with an intensity you haven’t experienced in ages. “ ‘m close,” you gasp and meet his burning gaze. “Please, wanna cum – yes – please, sir–”

How he doesn’t cum in his pants at the title is beyond his comprehension, but the stroke to his ego is welcoming, to say the least. Alhaitham never felt any type of way when others addressed him as so, sometimes annoyed even, but from you? It is everything. A verbal indication of relinquishing your power to him, your existence at its highest vulnerability, the underlying respect, the implicit trust hidden between three letters – only has him pushing down harder against your thighs, leaving no room for you to fight. The resolve and determination to have you cum on his tongue only increases and his thoughts plunder further into hell. Cum for me, cum on my tongue, let me taste your release that I give you, so fucking addictive – his silent commands painted on your tight bundle of nerves.

With Alhaitham exercising a dizzyingly sinful strength against you, leaving you helpless and defenseless, you let yourself succumb as your heart rate increases. Your breathy warnings and pleas, the oh fuck!s, the whimpering sir!s, confessions of love on the tip of your tongue – you have one minute, moment of clarity when your body freezes, and the coil snaps.

You don’t think you’ve ever cum so hard before, reality-shattering, nerves on overdrive, your body trembling beneath his palms as you ride out the pleasure for as long as you can. The quiet scream from your lungs is inevitable as it dissolves into sobs and Alhaithm follows you when your hips buck. There’s not enough oxygen for you and you can feel the visceral clenching of your abdomen as you fight for air and some semblance of control again – but that flies out the window when, for the first time tonight, Alhaitham slides his tongue inside your quivering cunt.

Said Scribe cannot help but groan, and he wishes he’d done this earlier. To feel your creamy walls squeeze as his taste buds slide amongst them, your keening ringing in his ears, the shaking of your thighs a prisoner between his fingers, the intoxicating taste of your cum – all of it is more than he could have ever dreamed of. Right where he wants you, and all his, his, his.

The incessant tugging of his hair tells him to stop for now, as much as he doesn’t want to. If it were up to him, he’d have you cumming on his tongue for hours, his hard cock be damned. But your convulsions of overstimulation manage to generate the slightest bit of sympathy and he laments when pulling away. His eyes hone in on the way your pussy contracts around nothing, almost begging for something to fill you again. “Good girl,” he praises, tenor delicate and charming, as he rubs gentle circles on your abdomen in an attempt to ground you. There are stars in your eyes, and he waits for you to come back to him.

You barely register Alhaitham’s hand on your body as you stare up at the ceiling, brain and soul somewhat disconnected due to the high of your orgasm. So good to me, your thoughts coo. Haitham, sir, how can I show my gratitude to him?

“Y/N,” and at last, you make eye contact with him. He preens at the blissed out look on your face and moves forward until he’s lying next to you, his weight supported on one arm while the other brushes away your baby hairs. A dreamy smile graces your lips, and he can’t help but lean forward for a soft kiss. Languid, sensual, pliant – several minutes fly by as you bask in each other’s presence until the need for more begins to bloom again. Alhaitham lets out a chuckle when he feels your hand wandering down his frame until it rests on his crotch. Making out with you has kept him semi-hard, and he’s happy you’re taking the initiative. Not that you’re in control, by any means, but it’s cute that you might think so.

Your mind reels from just how big he feels beneath your palm. You can’t deny the times when you’ve sneaked glances at his crotch, his tight pants outlining a slight bulge from day to day – but you never thought your fingers would be splayed so far apart, and you just know they would struggle to meet when gripping his length. Your whines reach his ears as you fumble with the clasp above the zipper, and Alhaitham is so kind, kind enough to take over and do it for you. Seconds later, his pants and underwear join the pile of forgotten clothes, and you immediately look down at what you’ve been waiting for.

The instant pooling of saliva in your mouth is embarrassing, shame and lust spilling into your chest and through your veins. Alhaitham’s cock is so beautiful, just like the rest of him, and you’ve never wanted something in your mouth so bad. It twitches under your reverent gaze, and the tip glistens with his precum. Even the noticeable veins drawn along his length are beautiful, and his balls seem to be engorged, heavy with cum. You prove your earlier hypothesis when you hold it in your hand, and your fingers truly do not meet around the circumference. A gush of slick leaks and paints your inner thighs, your hand seemingly tiny in comparison as you slowly stroke him.

Alhaitham hisses at your touch, so cold against the heat of his cock. There’s a passing thought of wanting to keep that fawning look on your face at all times, the metaphorical hearts in your eyes with his dick in your hand. In a moment of weakness, the thought begins to spiral into darker fantasies, how to keep you hooked and dependent on him, his cock, his mouth, his touch. A flash of a daydream crosses by of him sitting in his office chair, you on your knees between his legs, his shaft bullied deep in your throat as you keep it warm for him, drool and spit spilling from the corner of your lips, so submissive and desperate for him to fuck your face–

Your thumb glosses over his frenulum and he is ripped from his reverie. At risk of cumming too quickly, he thinks of how to keep your soft hands away for now. What can he use? How can he restrict you?

Ah.

Confused whimpers follow after him when he abruptly stands up from your bed and walks over to the pile of discarded clothes. You miss the warmth of his body next to you, goosebumps from the sudden chill rising on your skin. But before you can begin to chase after him, he returns to sit on the bed and beckons for you to sit up for him.

He loves how willing you are to obey him, your eyes wide and a little awestruck as you follow his gesture – almost as if he were your puppeteer. Alhaitham holds out his hands in front of him, palms facing the ceiling, and you match the posture with intrigue painted across your face. As you wait, clarification comes to you when he reveals the patterned, teal sash that usually encompasses his hips. Slow, deliberate movements as he wraps the cloth around your wrists (in case you don’t want it because he would never force you to do anything you were uncomfortable with), indicate this uncharted territory. And when the tie is made and the knot is pulled tight, you look up at him.

“Is this okay?” He asks. When you give a mute nod, he clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Words, Y/N.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer. “Yes, sir, it’s okay.”

Alhaitham watches as you lay back until your head meets the pillow, and your bound wrists lay prettily above your head. Your constrained and exposed body greets him. He sees your eyes strain to catch another glance at his cock, and the smirk on his lips is nothing but smug as he gives it a few quick pumps as a gift to you.

“Can you come here?” You plead because you know there’s no room to make any demands, and it’s his turn to be curious. Nevertheless, he resumes his original position by your side, but you shake your head. You can tell he doesn’t know what’s happening, but you are feeling shameless and powerless, at the mercy of this man, and you want him to really, really, drive that point deeper.

“Can you…straddle me? Like above my chest though?”

If this is going where Alhaitham thinks it’s going, he might just abandon the Akademiya altogether, whisk you away to his house, kick out Kaveh and have him live in your apartment instead, and keep his own doors locked for eternity. He does as you ask as he thrums in excitement, his cock weighty and leaking when you’re satisfied with where he is.

Time slows to a crawl as he watches you lift your head up with your pretty mouth open and take the tip of his cock between your glossy lips.

The tight heat is maddening, a strangled “fuck” falling off his tongue, and you push forward to take more of his length in your mouth. So dutiful and loyal, you have proven yourself, as you suck his cock with your eyes closed and moans vibrating around him. Given certain physical limitations, there’s only so much you can take in, which is where he believes it’s his time to act his part. He places a hand on the back of your skull to provide you some relief, but also to sink deeper down your throat. Naturally, you fall back until it’s just the head between your lips again, but he is right there to drag you back towards him and fill your depraved mouth.

“Look at you,” he hisses, controlling your pace. Such a good little fucktoy, no?  “Who knew you would want my cock so badly? For me to sit on top and watch as you struggle to even take half of it in your mouth? I don’t think you have any idea of what you’ve started. Your lips are stretched so wide, but just wide enough for me to fit perfectly in between them, like it was made for me. Maybe that’s what it is.” His perverse thoughts run wild without any composure or filter, and he is unable to hold it in. “You were made for me and my cock, and– oh fuck – it seems like you love the idea of being my personal cocksleeve.”

Your eagerness to please him increases as you strain to take more in, his tip slipping into and catching the back of your throat. The sound of you choking on his cock rings in your ears, sending you further and further into oblivion. Every word from Alhaitham sounds true, and he’s right – right that maybe you were specifically made for him, his own blessing from the Archons, and right that you deeply, painfully, love the idea of letting him use you as he wishes. A garbled cry, followed by more sticky release dripping from your cunt, doesn’t go unnoticed when his voice sounds ragged on the word “cocksleeve.” It’s a lascivious tone of accord and approval, and your tears flow when he pulls you as far down his length as your quenched throat allows, your chained wrists resting atop your skull, and he keeps you there.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” He asks with a teasing lilt in his voice. “I have no objections to fully commit to being yours, your sir. But you must understand I expect the same commitment in return. This cock is yours,” Alhaitham promises, relishing in your muffled whimper of agreement. “And you are mine. My,” – a pause – “personal, depraved, slut.”

At first, he worries he might have gone too far with such a derogatory term, but they are all dashed aside when he watches your eyelids flutter closed and eyes roll into the back of your head. A long whine sends him into overdrive, and even more so when you try to fit more of his cock down your throat. Expletives slip from his tongue as he pulls you away completely, a tendril of saliva connecting your lips to his tip, your mouth still wide open while gasping for air. He sees your own tongue peek out and rest on your bottom lip, pliant and waiting for him to return.

Alhaitham lets go of your skull and watches you fall back to your pillow. He moves your tied hands above and over your head until they settle right above your belly button. The position allows him to trap your arms beneath him and move just a little further up the bed for the bottom half of his length to weigh heavily on your eager mouth. It remains open as he drags his shaft along your tongue, teasing you by slipping the head of his cock in your mouth. Your lips immediately close around it, but they are no match for when he pulls away, and you’re left empty once again.

“Truly a cockslut,” he chides as his hand takes a hold of his length and smacks it against your tongue. “You’ll take everything I give you, won’t you?” And he smirks when you nod, still beckoning, still waiting. “You’ve done well for me so far. Perhaps I should give you a gift.”

There’s little time to regain your senses when he shoves his length in until it hits the back of your throat once more and grabs onto your headboard. Just that angle gives him enough leverage to fuck your face as he pleases.

“If your mouth is this tight, I can only imagine what your cunt will feel like on my cock,” he grits out. Your brain goes numb as you take it all in, content and satisfied to please Alhaitham. You focus on making sure your teeth don’t drag against his skin, tongue swiping patterns and circles around his cock when possible. “I’ll need to take my time stretching out your tiny pussy, won’t I? Fuck, need to make it fit inside you. Isn’t that right?”

Alhaitham pretends to be dissatisfied with your moan, all garbled and thick with drool. “How many times do I need to tell you to use your words?” He teases, knowing full well there’s no way for you to form any right now. But a wicked, joyous laugh rings in your ears when he can tell you’re attempting to do it anyways. It goes straight down his dick and into his balls, and as they tighten further, he knows he’s close.

You don’t know how it’s possible for him to grow any thicker, but somehow it happens when his pace increases, and he tells you, “I’m going to cum, okay? Going to give you all my cum, make you my cumslut. You want to be my cumslut, you’re doing so well, so perfect, letting me fuck your mouth. Shit, cumming, cumming –!”

At the very last second, he pulls out and furiously pumps his cock, shifting back just in time for his cum to paint your breasts. “Fuck!” He growls and rides out the high until there’s nothing left to give you, blinding light beneath his eyelids before he snaps them open so he can watch you become covered by his release. Viscous, white ropes paint over you, some even landing on your cheek and neck. His chest heaves and his eyes remain unfocused from the fog in his brain.

That is, until he watches you swipe his cum from your neck with your fingers before it drips onto the bed, and place them in your mouth. Your sigh screams content as you lick them clean, and as far as he can tell, you’re enjoying the taste of him – as if he was the one to sate your thirst rather than the other way around. In a trance, he joins you in your meal by feeding you more with his own appendages, and his dick returns to half-mast once all the cum is visibly gone and slid down your throat.

“Thank you for your cum,” you say, your voice dreamy and euphoric. Alhaitham pulls you by your bound wrists again until you’re sitting up close enough, and buries his head into your shoulder, embedding his own kisses of gratitude into your skin. It doesn’t matter that there’s dried spit on your chin and your hair is a mess – you’re still so incredibly stunning to him.

To look into your eyes, to cradle your face in his palm, to ghost his thumb over your cheekbone, how lucky he is to be in a position to even ask you, “Was that okay?”

“Very,” you smile, unabashed and clearly happy with everything that had just happened. A small giggle slips out as well.

“Good,” he murmurs after kissing your forehead. “Would you be open to one more round? It seems I haven’t gotten enough of you.”

You see the evidence of his claims, how his cock gradually grows and rises under your watchful stare. His earlier words of needing to stretch you out before he can fuck you play in your head, and they remind you of just how wet you are. Still tied up, you scoot back away from him until you can stretch your legs out, parted to reveal what you so desperately wanted to touch as his dick was lodged in your mouth. Alhaitham’s pupils dilate and zero in on the mess between your thighs, and he chases after you to spread your legs farther.

“You became this wet from me fucking your mouth?” His fingers slide against the folds of your puffy cunt, your clit peeking out and swollen. “Tsk, all this pre gone to waste,” and you whimper when his nails barely graze that bundle of nerves, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. There’s no resistance when he works his middle finger inside you and your breath hitches. He turns his wrist as he fingers you, creating more and more arousal coursing through your veins. Alhaitham is proud that one finger of his affects you so. You whine and reach for him with grabby hands, managing to latch onto his wrist so he can keep his appendages buried inside you. “My my,” he teases, and his fingers curl, searching and searching until his fingertip taps against the exact spot that makes your back arch.

“You’re so eager to be filled,” Alhaitham taunts as he lubes up his ring finger with your slick. You feel even tighter when it slips in with his middle finger, and he finds that spot again in no time, already having memorized where it is. “You don’t have my permission to cum yet,” he warns, a decision just made when your walls are really beginning to clench around him.

“B-but–”

A third finger joins in, cutting you off from any protesting. “You either cum on my cock or not at all,” he offers and you think it’s beyond cruel. Why can’t you cum on his fingers and his cock?

With every last thread of your existence, you stamp down the growing desire to cum again. It feels like hours have passed, your sanity barely intact, when Alhaitham hums, just loud enough to be heard amongst your moans and whines. “I’m beginning to question whether I truly am too big for you,” he contemplates out loud. “What do you think, Y/N?”

It’s so hard to answer his question when you’re using everything else inside you to not break around his fingers. The depraved squelching of your slick only adds fuel to the fire in your core, and you’re trying to think, you really are–

The friction ceases, and before you can even address it, there’s a light, punishing slap across your clit. “Fuck,” you whimper, throat dry.

“Answer my question. Do you think I might not fit inside you?”

You know what answer he’s looking for. You know he wants you to surrender to his hidden intentions, that, “It doesn’t matter,” and you swallow. “I will…make it fit.”

In turn, he removes his fingers with care, but leaves you horribly empty with the void expanding into your chest. “Do you have a condom?” Alhaitham asks while looking around your bedroom.

“The bottom drawer on the right in the bathroom.”

Your sir leans forward to place a gentle kiss on your stomach. “I will return soon.”

For the seconds that you try to catch your breath, to calm your beating heart, to ignore the vacuity between your legs, you realize just where you are and who you’re with. You haven’t had much of a clear mind since the second he knocked on your window, caught up in the whirlwind of your nerves and paranoia – and then to have it turned on its head where you now lay in your bed, free of any prior anxiety, and drown in your lust.

Alhaitham wanders back into your room, focused on the package in his hand. Shameless and perverse, your eyes drink in his length, bobbing with each step. Even you’re beginning to doubt your ability to take him all in, but the anticipation, the threads of excitement that you may be filled again clouds over everything else.

“Hold your legs for me,” he commands gently, and you obey once he unties the sash around your wrists. Your arms hook beneath your knees so that everything is displayed and exposed to him. He sets the condom to the side when he shuffles closer so his hips meet the bottom of your thighs. Your breath hitches when he presses his cock onto your abdomen, and it pleases both of you so much to see that his tip just about reaches your belly button. “Look at how deep it’ll be inside you,” he coos, your whine following. “But it’s okay if you can’t take it all, you can’t help it that your little cunt is so tight.”

There’s a twinge of faux disappointment in his words. As if on instinct, you shake your head in vehement disagreement. “I’ll make it fit, sir, I promise,” you gasp and pull your legs closer to you. “We have to make it fit.”

“Mmm, my eager cocksleeve,” he responds with mirth, his regales washing away the panic from your system. You wait with bated breath as he grinds the underside of his entire length against your glistening folds, purposely catching onto your clit when possible. You’re not sure how much longer you can stand the torture, becoming wetter and wetter with each glide. “The color system is okay to check in with you?”

“Yes.”

He nods and leans back so the tip of his cock is just outside your entrance. His fingers roll and stretch the condom down his length. It takes a tremendous amount of effort to tear his gaze away from your core so he can obtain your consent to start, and the determined nod he receives sets his heart aflame.

A sinful perversion enters his mind as he watches your messy cunt split open and stretch over the head of his cock. He thinks about the future and wonders when the day will be for you to be in his lap and sink down his cock with no hesitation. His thumbs spread your folds further apart so he can get a better look, his lustful illusions from many lonely nights finally coming into play. Your breathy gasp when the head pops in is alluring, and he craves more of it. That perversion echoes its lack of satisfaction, that this is not enough, and he needs it all. Pride fills his chest as you take the first few inches with no problem, trying to take deep breaths as he continues to bully his way into your pussy.

Though internally, your mind is on the verge of breaking from how thick Alhaitham is. The emptiness from earlier has long been fulfilled, and you take a look to see that he’s barely fit half oh him inside you, and you already feel so full.

You were made for me.

I was made for him, you remind yourself, rationality thrown out the window because serving Alhaitham is all that matters in this moment. He’s giving you his cock, taking his time for you, providing a subtle reminder of just who you will belong to from here on out. Alhaitham has been so kind to you, you think. The least you could do is to be his good little slut, so eager and always yearning for him.

“You’re doing so well,” Alhaitham praises, though his voice chokes. You’re terribly tight around him, so much so that he wonders if he would even be able to pull out once he’s buried all of himself inside you. It wouldn’t be much of a problem, he thinks, to have you stuck on his cock for eternity, fucked dumb with nothing on your mind but him and pleasure. His hand puts the slightest pressure on your abdomen, but it’s enough for you to break with an “oh!”

“Fuck, I can almost feel myself inside you,” he marvels. “Color?”

It takes you a few seconds to process his question. “Green,” falls off your tongue with a whimper. But the bit of hesitation is enough for Alhaitham to stop in his tracks.

“Y/N, look at me.”

A dreamy hum on your lips, your blown out eyes meet his, and he realizes how far gone you are. “We can stop, it’s okay if we do.” But that may have been the wrong thing to say because your face falls, tears prickling your eyes. “I can do it,” you sniffle. “Please, sir.”

There is no way for him to remain unaffected by the way you address him, but he ensures to take extra care for the last few inches.

“You’re doing so well, taking all of me in. You’re keeping your promise, I’m so proud of you,” Alhaitham coos. The bottom of his shaft is just a little bit thicker, and you let out a happy squeal when your cunt stretches as much as it can to accommodate him. His tip barely grazes your cervix, and through your floaty thoughts, you almost wish it was deeper. The groan from Alhaitham as he bottoms out provides you comfort. It can only mean that you’re making him feel good, and that you did manage to have him fit inside you. So pleased with yourself, your pussy clenches around him and coaxes for more, for his cum.

If Alhaitham didn’t have better control of himself, he would’ve cum right then and there. Buried deep inside you, warm velvety walls sucking him in – it’s hard to believe that this is really happening. The person he loves is in his arms, joined with him in the most intimate way known to mankind. He never wants to leave you, leave this, yet his cock begs for friction. Your adorable whine of protest as he slides out a couple inches beckons him to return, and return he does as you let out a sound of pure satisfaction.

“Loveyou,” your words slurred together and fuzzy. “Love, love your cock, please, wan’ more, please?”

Archons, how are you so perfect for him? Alhaitham sets a steady, moderate pace and focuses on you, ensuring that you’re okay and pleased. It seems there’s a permanent grin on your face, even when you gasp or scream, and he’s determined to keep it there. When you seem completely accustomed to his pace, his strokes become longer and more indulgent. “Fuck,” you cry each time he fills you up with more and more of his cock with each stroke. His thumbs rub circles into your clit and drive you closer to your peak – you don’t know if you’re ready to cum yet, or if you want this to end. You don’t, but you’re so close–!

“Such a good girl for me – your little cunny was really made for my cock. There’s no one else for me, just you, pretty girl,” he breathes, seeing the hesitation on your face as your walls clench tighter than before. “I know you’re gonna cum soon, I want to see you cum on my cock. Can you do that for me?”

Anything he asks for, you would go to great lengths to give him what he wants. So if he wants you to cum, then you have to. You nod with a pout on your face, but Alhaitham leans forward, pushing your legs back further as he reaches to kiss the pout away. “That’s my good girl, so perfect.”

He pulls out completely, but why?

Alhaithm grabs and maintains eye contact with you for two agonizing seconds, and then commands you to, “Cum for me.”

And you do just that when he slams his entire length inside you as soon as those words leave his lips.

Alhaitham basks in your scream and sobs, your body convulsing and trembling beneath him, your walls an impossible vice around his cock. He grinds against you to go as deep as he can, “fuckfuckfuck”, and a growl buried in your neck as he cums. In your high, you think you can feel the heat and its spasms of it all, passively wondering what it would feel like to have him cum inside you without a condom. Perhaps one day you’ll be granted a nice little breeding session, but that is neither here nor there.

Alhaitham plants pecks and kisses all over your face, neck, and shoulders, smiling when your little giggles reach his heart. If anything, he’s just happy that everything turned out okay and didn’t end up in a disaster like last time. As he observes the serenity gracing your complexion, he cannot contain his affection any longer.

“Thank you…for having me.” I love you.

Another giggle. “I love you, too, Haitham. A lot.”

You’re kindly gifted a most adoring eskimo kiss. “I need to get you cleaned up, so I need to pull out, okay?”

The pout returns despite your agreement, and Alhaitham spends much needed time to pull out without you breaking. The devil on his shoulder protests otherwise, as it attempts to coax him into keeping you speared on his cock for the night, or more. Your whine of loss tugs at his heartstrings and feeds into his greed, and he embraces you once more to keep you grounded. Slowly, but surely, you return to your senses. Alhaitham is heavy and sweaty against you, but it’s more than you could ask for. A few taps on his shoulder are enough to tell him that you’re back on the same plane of reality with him, and he dives in to kiss you again, painting compliments and praises of how amazing you were along your lips.  

Alhaitham then sweeps you off the bed, into his arms, and takes hurried steps towards the bathroom. You’re like a delicate flower with the way he places you on the toilet, and he reminds you of the importance of peeing after sex. Your privacy is granted when he leaves to remove and tie off the condom to discard it in the kitchen trash can, and later returns with a warm, wet towel. He waits until you’re back in bed and comfortable before he tenderly wipes away any excess fluids and leaves it on your nightstand before cuddling next to you. You turn towards him and burrow into his chest, content as his arms embrace you with an air of security and protection.

He mumbles something into your hair, but you’re out before you can even think to ask what he said.

-

When you finally come to, you can’t remember the last time you slept so well. No tiresome dreams, no sporadically waking up in the night – weeks out in the nature with Lumine had turned you into a light sleeper, and you missed this feeling of being so well-rested.

But the soreness in your thighs screams otherwise, and you wince when they refuse to cooperate. A muscular arm rests around you as if it has always belonged there. At first you question why it’s there, but then your brain decides to wake up and remind you just exactly of what transpired last night. Despite the mixture of shock and embarrassment (mainly at just how wanton you acted), you look up from where you are buried into Alhaitham’s chest. Somehow, you’re surprised to see him already awake. Well, surprised may not be the right word. But the clear adoration in his eyes is unmistakable, seizing and pulling on your heartstrings.

Alhaitham quite enjoys watching you think and process, imagining the fine-tuned gears and cogs in your brain working in overdrive. He remains silent as he smooths out some of the tangles in your hair, and he patiently waits to hear from you. You two had already experienced many hours of quietude before, so this was nothing new for him. There are very few moments in his life when he’s felt this serene and content, half-naked and you pressed against him, both drinking in each other and the light of day coming from your window. He could get used to this. He wants to get used to this.

“You’re making me breakfast in bed,” you decide with your first words of the day, grumbling with a pout on your face. “I don’t think I can walk properly.”

The former scribe arches a perfect silver brow, but the shit-eating smirk stretching along his face is anything but confusion. He knows exactly what you’re implying, and he’s quite satisfied with himself for causing such a situation. Perhaps he should do it more often.

“That I can do,” he agrees, his morning voice deep, yet full of mirth. After a quick kiss on your forehead, he rolls out of bed to do just as you command.

The growl from your stomach prevents you from calling him back because you’re cold now. A shiver runs down your spine as you tighten the blanket and sheet around you, tucking some beneath your chin in an attempt to trap whatever warmth you have left. But when you catch a hint of Alhaitham’s lingering scent, you feel yourself immediately calm down and breathe evenly. The gentle cluttering from your kitchen provides another layer of security as well.

Lost in your basking, you’re quite startled when you feel Alhaitham’s lips on your cheek, a tray in his hands with a light, yet nutritious breakfast arranged. But as you continue to lay there, he can’t help but laugh.

“Do you need help sitting up?”

“No.”

“Don’t be stubborn.”

You do, in fact, need his strength to sit up comfortably against some pillows. The embarrassment hasn’t quite worn off by the time he slides back underneath the sheets to sit next to you, an arm slung over your shoulders as you eat. But in seconds, it dissipates, and is replaced with something akin to love. For you both to finally be here, together as if you two have been dating for years, is exactly the outcome you have been wishing for.

“You know,” he starts before being interrupted by a forkful of food shoved into his mouth, courtesy of you. “You’re a perfect reason why I can finally kick Kaveh out of my home.”

You swat his shoulder with your free hand. “That’s so mean!”

“He can just move in here. I’m not that heartless to leave him homeless. Is that what you think of me?”

You answer without hesitation, “Yes.”

With the hand hanging off your shoulder, his nails scrape lightly in retaliation against the skin beneath your collar bone.

“If I recall, I was pretty fair with you last night,” he murmurs into your hair. “Perhaps I need to remind you just how fair when you’re done with breakfast.”

And you’ve never finished a meal so quickly.

fin.

[delfiore]

—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (3/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: without ona, you find other ways to fill the hole in your heart, as the consequences of your own actions come back to haunt you.

word count: 7.0k

a/n: holy shit is this one long. some more cameos for the plot who are all good bros to our dumbasses in love 👍

PART I, PART II, PART IV, PART V

2018, 5 years ago.

You always hated it when your hands shake after adrenaline rushes. It felt debilitating, like you weren’t able to make rational decisions because all you could think about was trying to hide your trembling hands.

When your coach called you into his office, you were still cradling your right hand, the other pressing an ice pack to the bruise starting to form on your right knuckles. The way he pointed with his head for you to follow him—doing so without a word—reaffirmed that you were definitely in trouble.

It was a warm day in May, and yet you had two training sessions to complete. You were drenched in sweat afterwards, your body warm and buzzing like a furnace. Definitely not a good day to be pissed off.

Coach Dennis sat in his chair behind his desk, his hands folded in front of him. His lips were curling and jutting out like they always did whenever he was concentrating or trying to look angry. It made him look like a fish.

A silence followed, and then he spoke. “Are you aware of what you did?”

You clenched your jaw to stop yourself from blurting out something sarcastic. “I punched a teammate, Coach.”

“You’re aware that that could get you released, don’t you, Y/N?” He asked. “NYCFC has zero tolerance for violence within the first team, much less the youth academy.”

You lowered your head. Your hands were shaking much less now.

“May I ask why you did it?” Coach pressed further when he didn’t receive an answer.

So you told him. There was a group of girls that had been picking on you for years now. You were never the biggest or strongest, so you used your techniques to weave the ball through defenders, to make you stand out, and it pissed them off.

“So you punched one of them.”

“They were cornering me.” You said simply, looking up at him for the first time since the meeting started.

The man sighed and covered his nose and mouth with his palms. You might have reduced his lifespan by a decade right then.

“Y/N, I know you. I know you will stand up for yourself, and I expect nothing less from you, but this kind of behavior will not and cannot fly here. That’s why I’m telling you this, because I know you’ll be special one day.”

“Those girls are bullies, Coach. They don’t deserve to be here. You should be punishing them!”

“They will get their punishment in due time, but you still punched a teammate,” he said firmly. “You did what you thought was right, but violence is never the answer. You can’t punch your way out of everything.”

“Are you kicking me out?” You asked, trying to remain stoic, yet you were fiddling with your fingers.

“No. I’m blocking your Dallas offer.”

FC Dallas had been one of the top scouts that have had their eyes on you, and you had been working extra hard to impress them. This was your chance to break into their first team, and it was gone.

“You can’t do that!”

“Yes, I can.” He pressed.

“Coach, please—”

“Thank you, Y/N.” He cut you off. “You may leave.”

Leaving Dennis’ office, and walking down the hallway, your eyes caught Sara—the girl you punched—sitting in the infirmary, her face tear-stained, red, and blotchy. She had always looked at you with disdain, but now there was a fear in her gaze as she caught yours from far away. When she did, you got a better look at the damage you’d done to her face. You suddenly felt that shame you should have felt back in the office.

“Yo, Y/N,” you heard someone call when you were outside. “I heard about what happened.”

“You’re gonna lecture me, Gio? ‘Cause Dennis already did.”

“No, man. I was gonna say how badass that was,” he grinned.

A slow grin spread on your face. You shook your head, as Gio put his arm around your shoulder and you walked to the cafeteria.

You met Giovanni Reyna a few years ago when you first joined the academy. In a training session where both the boys and girls participated, you were paired with him for finishing drills. With a hard tackle, he’d almost put you in the hospital. Ever since then, you had been stuck to the hip. He was the first friend you made and the longest friend you’d ever had.

You’d stay another year at NYCFC, honing your skills, and avoiding another run-in with your bullies until the transfer window was near. You were still waiting for FC Dallas to call back, as you had for a year now. It was the only place you wanted, and while you knew it was risky to do so, it was your gateway to Europe through their partnership with Bayern Munich.

“Sara is going to the Red Stars, did you hear?”

“Dylan’s going to Orlando Pride.”

“I heard Hope and Mary-Anne are going to Roma and Lyon!”

You had tried to block out the gossip in the cafeteria, but it made you doubt yourself. What did they have that you didn’t? Yes, you weren’t the tallest or strongest, but neither were Messi, Xavi, or Aguëro. But maybe that was just it; you were not Messi, Xavi, or Aguëro, and you would never be.

Gio was leaving too, there had never been any doubt about that; his dad was a U.S. legend, and it was only natural that he’d give the best to his son. Besides, Gio might have been the next best thing after Christian Pulisic skyrocketed to fame within the past few years. The boy’s move to Borussia Dortmund was almost imminent, and people had been whispering about it for weeks, but you were the one he told first.

“When do you leave?” You asked, picking at the food on your tray. Gio and you were sitting outside having lunch.

“Beginning of June,” he said.

“I’m happy for you,” you muttered, voice cracking quietly, but a small smile remained on your face.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Don’t be sorry. This is a good thing,” you smiled, nodding as you grabbed his hand over the table. “I’ll just miss you a ton.”

“Hey,” Gio searched for your eyes. “I have no doubt that you’ll be scouted soon. I know it. I know you have what it takes to be at the top, whether it’s in Europe, or here.”

Your best friend left less than a month later. You had wrapped your arms around him so tightly and hid your face in his neck, afraid you might bawl like a baby the last time you saw him on the training ground. But you didn’t cry then.

You did cry, though, when Coach Dennis called you into his office again a week later. This time, instead of expressing his disappointment in you, he hugged you tight, congratulated you, and let you read the email that Portland Thorns FC sent to request a transfer for you to their first team.

2023, present.

“You ever thought about what you’d be doing if you weren’t playing football?”

You had just drifted off a bit when the voice next to you spoke. Furrowing your eyebrows, you wondered how she wasn’t absolutely battered.

“Don’t know. Never had a plan B. Didn’t want to.”

“Right. But I feel like, I go to training, I kick the ball, people come and watch me, and then when I go home after, I don’t know who I am. It’s like . . . I’m nothing without the footballer.”

You didn’t expect your hookup to be opening up to you like this. You’d only just met her a few hours ago at a club. You had played against her a few times in the league but had never spoken to her face-to-face. Though not the best on the dance floor, she made an excellent dance partner in bed.

“Well, having a personality is overrated nowadays anyway.” You replied, closing your eyes again. “Nobody cares who you are until you fuck up on the pitch, so just don’t fuck up on the pitch.”

“Easy for you to say,” she huffed. “You have your starter place at City guaranteed.”

You ignored her and turned to the other side. A few minutes later, you heard the sheets shuffling, then the sound of a zipper. “This was fun,” she whispered before you heard your bedroom door opening and closing.

No barks, it meant Bratwurst was asleep, luckily for your ears. Most people you had been bringing home he had been barking at. You wanted to think it was him being protective over you, but he would bark at your teammates too when they would come over, except for one person.

Ever since you came back from the World Cup much earlier than you had anticipated, you liked to find company at clubs and parties. In your time of need, you’d found that you preferred sporadic ones, fewer complications, and headaches.

You were also invited to events; award shows, the British Grand Prix, and a few fashion shows. Those you never really bothered with, but they were chances for your stylist to go crazy with the outfits (which you never complained).

The only good thing to come out of those, however, was seeing Gio again at Paris Fashion Week. The moment you saw him, you gladly accepted it when he brought you into a tight hug, feeling like that 13-year-old again when you first met. You kept in touch over the years, but your schedules were always too different to ever meet up. But it was as if no time had passed, and the only thing that kept you both from talking till morning was that Gio needed rest for his rehabilitation training the next day.

“I’m going on a trip to Ibiza soon with a few friends. You should come,” he said.

“I don’t know, G. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You wouldn’t. I want you to come. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Just because you have a girlfriend now doesn't mean you’re allowed to set me up,” you smirked and shoved him.

“I’ve seen the stuff that came out about you, Y/N,” he sighed. “Is it true?”

“I’m not doing anything illegal if that’s what you’re asking.”

“That’s not what I meant. About you being seen at clubs day in and day out. What is this really about, Y/N?”

You know Gio wanted the best for you, even though sometimes he was too stubborn to admit it. You were too, but you loved him to bits. Maybe that’s why you two fit together so well.

“I let someone close to my heart, and it fucked me over.”

Gio nodded softly. “Well then. Just consider it a vacation. She’ll still be there though.”

“And you won’t make me go out with her?”

“As if I can make you do anything.”

Unless you were legally prohibited or physically unable to, you would never turn down a proper party. So there you were, on a yacht in Ibiza with your best friend and several other people in his entourage. Gio, that little shit, though having promised not to set you up, was elbowing you at a woman the moment she set foot on the yacht. Anyone with eyes would say that she was beautiful; curly hair, plump lips, and soulful eyes you could get lost in.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. It didn’t hurt to try.

You went over to the bar where she stood and ordered a drink. Glancing behind your shoulder, you noticed Gio sending you a big thumbs-up.

“So, you are the one Gio keeps raving on about,” said the woman next to you. Her eyes were really pretty.

“I guess so. That’s me,” you let out a laugh, albeit shakily. “Am I everything you dreamed of and more?”

It was her turn to laugh. “He definitely mentioned your confidence, yes.”

“Well, then I’ll definitely keep you around for sure. But just so you know, I do other things besides kick a football around and look pretty doing it.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“I guess you’ll have to find out for yourself,” you smirked. “I’m Y/N,” you extended a hand.

“Leena,” she took your hand in a firm handshake and raised her drink to you.

You took a sip, and watched her behind the glass, only to notice that she was looking back at you as well. “So, how did you know Gio?”

“I worked with him on a couple of photoshoots. I’m a photographer,” leaning against the bar with her drink, she smiled and pushed a few strands of hair behind her ear. “He was really nervous, said he didn’t like getting his picture taken. Luckily, I used to work with kids and animals back home in Finland, so making a full-grown man laugh for his headshots wasn’t too hard.”

“You’re from Finland?”

“Mmhm. I go back and forth between London and Manchester now, though.”

“Interesting,” you nodded inconspicuously. “I play in Manchester. Nice city.”

Before you knew it, the sun had started to go down, and it was time to drive the yacht back to port. As you all made your way to the exit to disembark, you waited for Leena before offering your hand to help her down the ramp.

Your group was to head into town, and have some dinner before going to a local music festival to finish the night off. It was dark by the time you arrived at the venue, and you wasted no time in immersing yourself in the music. Gio and the others were long forgotten, and you found yourself enjoying your time with Leena much more than you had anticipated.

You told her about your job, and she asked about the World Cup. As much as you hated to talk about it, having declined several interviews and podcast appearances in which mentions of the tournament were inevitable, you told her everything she wanted to know.

She was so attentive and listened, even though you knew she didn’t follow the sport, and for that you were thankful. It has been a while since you talked to someone about how you felt and have them listen so wholeheartedly.

“Do you ever miss home?” You asked once the both of you had taken a break from dancing.

“Sometimes, but right now my wanderlust is bigger than my homesickness. I want to see everything the world has to offer.”

You swirled your martini on the standing table. “I’ve been away from home for so long, I don’t really know where home is anymore.”

“Well, I think home is where you make it.” She lay a hand on your bare arm, caressing it slowly. “If you’ve already made a home at this age, what else is there to do?”

Your eyes trailed along her arm up to her face. Your heart slowed, and the music seemed to have faded in the background. Despite the chaos of the festival, several drunk people dancing next to you, and your friends have already disappeared somewhere, you suddenly had an overwhelming urge to kiss Leena.

But it wasn’t her that you wanted to kiss, not really. You wanted to kiss her because it reminded you of familiar feelings, to have someone in your corner that you didn’t have to pretend to. But of course that was all based on a lie.

As she reached into your martini to pick up the olive pick and held it out for you, you bit down gently on the fruit and let her pull the pick away. You smiled bashfully.

“I’ll go get us some more drinks,” you cleared your throat. “Do you want some fries too?”

You needed to get out of there before you did something you regret and ruin a good thing, again.

The bartender was off once you’d given him your order. Whilst waiting for the drinks, you looked around for familiar faces and spotted Gio and a couple of his friends “dancing” to the music in one corner, clearly quite inebriated.

“Y/N.”

You turned around and wished that you didn’t. It was Ona, looking at you like you were some sort of alien.

“Ona,” you breathed.

“Hi. What are you doing here?”

“I’m here with friends.” Now would be a good time for those drinks, bartender.

She nodded. “How are you?”

“Fine,” you said too quickly. “Congratulations by the way, on winning.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“You guys deserved it. No matter who’s trying to take it away from you, you did, and you should celebrate it,” you meant it and tried to force a smile that adequately expressed your sentiments. Needless to say, it would be easier to be saying this to one of her teammates, anyone but her.

You remembered the night she broke your heart, the night when you left your heart by the sidewalk as you trekked all the way home on foot.

That was three months ago, and with all the distractions you’ve indulged yourself in, somehow it still ached.

The bartender handed you your drinks just then, and you were off.

“Y/N, wait.” You closed your eyes. “I’m sorry . . . for what I said, how I said it.”

“No, I think you made your point very clear, Ona. Have a good rest of your trip.”

“Y/N, I did feel something too! I did!”

Ona felt like biting her tongue at the look you gave her when you turned around, the two glasses of Negronis dangling in your fingers by your side. She had almost regretted it when your lips trembled, and your chest rose and fell as if an implosion was imminent.

You took a large step towards her and exhaled. “You don’t get to do that. Not after I’ve tried to do everything to forget you. You can’t do that.”

Ona opened her mouth to say something, but she knew anything she said would only add to your fury.

“I hope you’re happy by the way.” You said mockingly. “Seeing that you got what you wanted. Winning the World Cup, moving back to Barcelona. Hope you’re happy. Bye, Ona.”

She watched unmovingly as you walked away from her, back to a table where a woman was waiting, and pulled her towards the crowd to dance. She found herself returning to her group, not being able to get the image of you swaying behind the woman with your arm around her neck out of her mind.

What kind of sick joke was the universe playing to make her see you right when she was supposed to be enjoying her days off? Maybe it was her punishment, having broken your heart then practically fleeing the country immediately after.

“Where’s the drink, Ona? You were supposed to get us some,” Lucy questioned her when she came back.

“Oh, sorry. I thought I saw someone.”

“Oi, is that Y/N? Y/N!”

“No, please don’t.” Ona grabbed Lucy’s arm, and quickly pulled it down.

Realizing Lucy didn’t know about it, she knew she was going to have to tell her one way or another. Surprisingly, Lucy didn’t laugh or tease her about it after hearing the entire story. They were back at their hotel, with another bottle of wine passed between them, and Ona told her new teammate everything.

“You were under our noses the whole time, and we didn’t even realize,” Lucy snickered with a shake of her head.

“Yeah,” the night had taken a toll on her, and Ona started to feel the effect of the alcohol as she lay staring at the ceiling. “Have I made a huge mistake? Letting myself be involved in all this.”

“Obviously, but the heart wants what it wants. Trust me,” the brunette took another sip from the bottle. “It is a hard situation, but she needs space, as much as you can give her so she can heal.”

“Sounds like you’ve been through it before,” Ona smirked and poked her with her elbows.

The older woman only laughed. “Something like that.”

As hard as it was to accept the truth, Ona had to move on. She didn’t have a lot of time to mope around, however, before she knew it, the season had already begun. Barcelona had always been a place to return to, and the team needed someone who had Barcelona in her DNA to complete the defense.

It was all going swimmingly, too much so even. The season started out slow, but they grabbed the wins when they needed them. Then it was time for the Champions League draw. Barcelona had been drawn into a group with RSC Anderlecht, AS Roma, and Manchester City.

Just her luck. She’d have to see you twice before the year ended. Barcelona would be going to Manchester first.

With her chance encounter with you in Ibiza still fresh on her mind, she joined the queue for warm-up, looking up every once in a while in case she spotted you. When she did, you were standing by the sideline talking animatedly to your other former teammate Keira. She tore her eyes away before you could notice her, and swallowed that uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Longing for your American girl?” Mapi said with a smirk.

“Shut up,” Ona mumbled, jogging away to do stretches. “I knew Lucy would blab.”

“So Lucy knows? I was just making an educated guess from the way you keep making those sad puppy eyes at her.”

“At who?” Ingrid appeared from behind.

“Y/L/N,” Mapi raised her eyebrows at her girlfriend with a smirk, and Ingrid gasped excitedly.

“Oh my god, Y/N Y/L/N?! You guys would be so cute together!”

“Guys, come on. We have a match to play,” Ona groaned and begrudgingly jogged away. Just before she started her sprints though, she snuck one last glance at you, when you briefly looked back. As if having been burnt just by a look, you quickly said goodbye to Keira and went back to your half to continue warming up.

“Do you think they were already together?” Ingrid whispered at Mapi.

Mapi sighed, “Definitely.”

Ona started that match on the left, as Lucy also started and occupied her usual right side. You were playing on the right this time to allow Lauren Hemp to be on the left wing. It meant there would be none of her usual duels with you.

Ever since Lucy’s slip-up in the World Cup final, Ona knew she had been more cautious in defense and stayed back most of the time. It gave her the opportunity to set up passes deeper whilst also keeping you at bay, the tactic Ona herself used at United and one she knew you absolutely despised.

Sure enough, you stupidly went up against only one of the best fullbacks in the world. Your dribbling and speed were to your advantage, and Lucy—with all her experience and knowledge of your play—easily controlled you at the flanks. So you tried inverting inside, and Lucy followed you too, if not Irene did.

Man City was pressing high, giving the offense plenty of opportunities in the box, but Barcelona was better in defense. It was only when a precise lofted ball was sent past the back line, that Lucy was trailing after you. You went down just outside of the box. As everyone was getting ready for the free kick, you were still on the ground. Your ankle had been stomped on by Irene during the struggle.

Ona quickly jogged over and put her hand over your shoulder, “Y/N, are you okay?”

“Don’t put your hands on me,” you seethed, swatting her hand away, just as the physios came over and sprayed your ankle. Just moments later, you were able to stand up, but you never spared her another glance.

As much as it stung, she clenched her jaw to stop the tears and got ready for the free kick.

Barcelona ended up winning 2-0, a stellar start to their UWCL campaign. While Ona went to shake hands with several players from the opposition, she looked for you, seeing you walk towards the stands. You took pictures and signed for some people, even gave a little kid your shirt, but she saw the way you lit up when talking to someone in the crowd. Upon closer look, it was the woman you were with in Ibiza.

Your smile was blinding as Leena was led down the pitch towards you. “Hi,” you breathed. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Of course I did. You gave me tickets, remember?” She brought you in for a hug. “I’m sorry you lost, but it was very entertaining. I took lots of pictures.”

“Of me, I hope?” You smirked.

She rolled her eyes playfully. “Keep dreaming, Y/L/N.”

Smiling slightly, you brought her in for a side hug. “Thank you for coming,” you kissed Leena’s cheek. “Means a lot.”

Ona was watching the entire interaction, fuming on the inside. Lucy and Mapi knew to steer clear of her path once they returned to the dressing room by the glower on her usually affable face.

SportsPro Media: Y/N Y/L/N Seen ‘Smiling’ After Man City Lost to Barcelona in Women’s Champions League Group Stage “Fans have taken to social media to criticize the winger, 21, after she was seen smiling and conversing with fans at the stands after a 2-0 loss to reigning champions Barcelona. The criticism came after several of Y/L/N’s teammates on the USWNT were also condemned for their overt optimism after barely making it out of their group in the Women’s World Cup this summer. Among the critics was former USWNT international Carli Lloyd. Y/L/N was also seen getting more than friendly with her rumored girlfriend, whom the winger was spotted on holiday with in Ibiza alongside U.S. men’s team’s Gio Reyna after a shockingly early World Cup exit. […]”

When the second round of the group stage came around, you were much better prepared. Though you were playing away in Barcelona, Man City were preparing to win. You were definitely training to do so, so when the starting XI lineup was posted on the door in the dressing room, you were stunned when your name wasn’t on the list. You had been benched before—it was all part of the game—but only during less important games or for your own recovery, but never during an important game like this.

“Gareth, can I speak to you, please?” You said, gritting your teeth when the gaffer opened the door in his office.

“Of course,” he gestured for you to follow inside. “Take a seat.”

You remained standing. “Why am I not starting for the Barcelona game?”

“I’m doing what I think will be best for the team, Y/N.”

“By benching me? You need me!”

“Easy, Y/L/N. No one is above the club, and I don’t appreciate your tone,” Gareth’s tone was despicably calm, yet no less menacing.

You took a deep breath to compose yourself. “I want to know why, in an important game such as this one.”

“It seems . . . that you might have a personal reason as to why you want to start this game, but I have to rotate the squad and—”

“Wait, wait, wait. What do you mean? What personal reason?”

Gareth sighed. “I’ve been informed that you’ve had a personal relationship with one of Barcelona’s players that didn’t end too well.”

“So? What does that have to do with anything?” You all but yelled.

“I’m making a decision that I deem best for the club, and you and every other player will listen because I am in charge!” Gareth had never yelled, not like this. It made you flinch. “I will not have my players’ private life bleed into the performance of the team. Now, you can either support my decision or I will have you removed from the squad traveling to Barcelona, and replace you with someone else who will put the team above their own interest.”

Your mouth is sewn shut, just by the sheer shock at what the manager had just said. You stormed out of his office without another word, slamming the door open to mask what you were truly feeling inside. It wasn’t fury—you were beyond that—it has turned into fear of being replaced; fear of being left behind.

Man City drew that match, and it was just enough to send the team to the quarterfinals, having done it entirely without you. Gareth had made up a bullshit excuse to the press to make you stay home.

Your agent, Toni, was much more furious for you, saying what he did breach the contract you signed and that you should be taking action. In the five years they have been your agent, you have never had to endure that much legal talk over a club issue before. You’d be amused at their passionate rambling if you weren’t already nursing a headache.

“I think you should leave, Y/N,” they finally said after getting off the phone.

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “But where would I even go? I don’t have any offers yet.”

“You will, once the news comes out that you’re looking to leave the club. You only have one year left on your contract anyway, plenty would seek to employ you.”

You had been through this before. The waiting after letting it be known that you wanted to leave was the worst, but you weren’t just a nobody anymore. You were Y/N Y/L/N, and you would have it your way one way or another.

“Alright, then.” You nodded firmly. “Let’s have a talk with Gareth. I’m not gonna scurry out of this club like a rat.”

Goal.com: Y/N Y/L/N Looking for Man City Exit After Tension With Boss Gareth Taylor “Sources within Man City are saying the American winger could be on her way out of Manchester this summer. The player has reportedly ‘fallen out of favor’ with City gaffer Gareth Taylor after ‘expressing her vexation over lack of playing time’. The 22-year-old was left out of the squad traveling to Barcelona for the 4th group stage match of the Women’s Champions League altogether and has since featured in significantly fewer matches for the Citizens. Several European clubs are reportedly keen to sign Y/L/N, but she could also be making a return to the NWSL for what could be a record signing in the women’s game yet. […]

Though you were scared, it was much easier to let go of a burden that you have been carrying around for so long.

Which was why you had agreed to come to a concert with Leena when she had asked you. You would let yourself have fun and connect with someone without being scared anymore because what Ona did to you had nothing with who you were, and you sure as hell weren’t going to pay the price for it.

Needless to say, you and Leena had a great time. You were been walking back to your car in the parking lot when you saw a flash. You sighed and walked Leena towards the passenger side.

“Get in the car. Don’t come out, okay?” You told her with a smile, which was quickly wiped off once you saw the photographers approaching.

“Y/N, are you leaving City? Where do you think you’re going next?”

“Did you have a fight with Gareth?”

“Y/N, are you going to Barcelona?”

You entered the car with an exasperated sigh. Your breathing became heavy as you attempted to start the car, and your hand started to tremble.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Leena spoke softly. “Don’t let them get to you.”

She placed a hand over yours and squeezed it softly. Finding her eyes, you nodded gratefully, and drove away, trying your very best not to run those imbeciles over.

You went back to her apartment where you both ordered some takeout. Over a movie, you talked about anything and everything.

It was like that with Leena. Somehow, she has made you feel okay with pouring your entire heart out in front of her, her caring eyes and encouraging silence taking away your doubts about looking like an emotional fool in front of her.

But the moment you saw her eyes dart back and forth between yours, then down to your lips and leaned in, you froze. You wanted this, only because it would be good for you, but you couldn’t do it.

“I’m sorry, Leena. I-I—” Jumping out of the couch, you stuttered like a broken record. Of course, she would have read it like that, you couldn’t blame her. You didn’t quite know what you wanted, but all you could think about was how different it was to kiss Leena than it was to kiss Ona.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”

She didn’t try to stop you. In fact, she didn’t say anything at all. She might as well have been just as shell-shocked as you were by your reaction. You bolted out of there as quickly as you can, like a coward.

Unsurprisingly, Leena hasn’t tried to contact you. You couldn’t blame her, you’d be pissed at yourself too. It seemed everyone was pissed at you these days.

Chloe approached you once in the weight room to ask if you were leaving. You could only offer her an apology, but she brought you in for a hug. You would miss her the most.

Meanwhile, Toni was working tirelessly on your next move, and all you could do was train and be the best footballer you could be while you waited. Even if Gareth didn’t deserve your effort, your teammates did, and you owed it to them to give it your all until the day you left the training ground for the last time.

There was only one destination you had in mind, but going there would mean having to confront your serial one-night stand that you were possibly in love with, who also didn’t share your feelings.

You couldn’t let that deter you from ascending the football hierarchy, though. You couldn’t, and you won’t. You would do it one way or another because it was where you deserved to be. You would show Gareth that he was wrong about you.

“I can’t believe you’re going to Lyon! That’s crazy, Y/N!” Gio said over the phone. He was the first person you told and was ecstatic when you did.

“They still haven’t sent anything official yet, but it’s looking like it, yeah.”

“Well, what happened to the Barcelona deal?”

“My agent was flipping out when I said no, but then this deal came two days later and now they’re flipping out again but for a good reason.”

“That’s awesome, dude! I’m happy for you!”

“I don’t know, I just—I feel like I’m not there yet or something. Lyon wants me, but they’re freakin’ Lyon!”

“Hey, I know all about imposter syndrome, alright? But you can’t let that keep you from playing at one of the best clubs in the world.”

“Don’t let Dortmund hear you say that,” you smirked.

“Eh, we know where we are. That’s why we sold Erling and Jude,” Gio spoke. “Point is, they want you. They clearly see how good of a player you are. So get your ass over to France and show them that!”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “You’re right.”

“Alright, gotta go. But hey, let’s go for a drink next time you’re in town. Hopefully, by then, you’re a Lyon player.”

You ended the call and got up to go take a shower. Just before you went to the bathroom, though, your phone rang again.

Grinning, you picked up again, “Look, if you’re telling me you’re gonna set me up again, I swear to god, Gio.”

But you didn’t hear Gio’s voice or teasing laugh. Instead, there was a shaky sniffle on the other side.

You checked the caller ID, and it was an unknown number. From Barcelona.

“Hello?” You said, unsure.

“Hey, Y/N. I just . . . just needed to hear your voice.”

You sighed because you knew exactly who it was. You had etched the cadence and tone of her voice into your memories during the many nights you’ve spent together.

“It’s Ona, by the way.”

“I know,” you nodded. You didn’t quite know how else to carry on this conversation. “I heard Barcelona’s beautiful this time of year.”

“Yeah, it is,” she said, sniffling again. “You should see the beach at sunset. It’s great. I go and sit there almost every night.”

“Are you drunk, Ona?”

“No, no. Maybe a little bit. Just a little bit though. I had two glasses of wine. Or else I wouldn’t have the courage to be doing this. Just like I didn’t have the courage to tell you that I had feelings for you too. Have, I still do.”

You closed your eyes and shut off the water. Then she said it again, “I have feelings for you, Y/N. I think about you all the time. And I know you might be with someone now, but I just can’t . . .”

She started crying again. “I can’t go on without telling you anymore.”

“This is incredibly selfish, what you’re doing, Ona.” You were close to tears too, hearing how much this hurt her.

“I know. I’m sorry I fucked it all up. I’m sorry for hurting you. If I could take back everything I said, I would. I’m so, so sorry.”

You took a deep breath and sat back down on your bed. “I forgive you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I was selfish too,” you said quietly. “You should go to sleep. You have a Champions League final to play tomorrow.”

You ended the call before you or she could say anything else.

“Shit,” you mumbled and threw yourself back onto the bed. This was exactly why you had to say no to Barcelona, even though it was your dream to play for them. Alas, it started to feel like a mistake.

You dialed Toni. “Hey, um, please don’t kill me for asking this, but could you reach back out to Barcelona and tell them I’m very interested?”

“I knew you’d pull some shit like this so I’ve stalled them. They don’t know we’re negotiating with Lyon, and would probably be fine with setting up a call soon. It’d be a headache to handle Lyon, though.”

“That’s why you’re the best agent in the world, right?” You smiled sheepishly.

“We’ll see, Y/N. We’ve got some leverage for now, but it’s not guaranteed that Barça won’t say no.”

“Thank you, Toni!” You hung up the phone.

ESPN: Barcelona Completes Signing of Y/N Y/L/N from Manchester City on World Record Transfer Fee “Manchester City W.F.C. has agreed to sell USWNT winger Y/N Y/L/N to Barcelona on a £485,000 record fee. This transfer surpasses Keira Walsh’s own move to Barcelona from the Sky Blues in 2022 with a fee of around £400,000. The signing of the summer was finally completed after several clubs have been reported to enter the race. Olympique Lyon was also close to acquiring the 22-year-old’s signature, but the deal broke down in late June when the player repeatedly expressed her interest in joining the Catalan giants. A technically gifted forward, Y/L/N can play on either side as a winger, and occasionally as an attacking midfielder for the national team. Her impending arrival at La Blaugrana would provide a boost in attacking power to an already impressive Barcelona side. […]”

“Jesus, you look like someone murdered your mother or something. Liven up, please.” Mapi smacked her Ona on the shoulder.

“I’m just a little nervous to see her again,” the younger girl muttered, fiddling with her fingers.

She could hear voices outside the dressing room getting closer. At the sound of your voice, her ears trained. She remained facing her locker, trying to occupy herself until you came in. She really felt like throwing up.

You greeted Aitana first with a quick hug, Marta too, then Lucy brought you in for a spin and released you for Keira to go in for the hug.

You said hello to Mapi and Ingrid, both of whom hugged you tightly.

Then you were in front of her. She had expected you to not even look at her, after what she had said over the phone. But you smiled a genuine smile, the one you used to give her whenever the world was a little too hard to bear.

Ona remembered everything. From the sheer hatred and resentment to the lust and sleepless nights under the sheets, to the longing and heartache she endured away from you.

“Welcome,” she whispered quietly, afraid you might not reciprocate her greeting.

Instead, you pulled her into you and held her tightly.

a/n: i’ve decided to add some lore for our y/n, lmk if you like it, if you don’t like it, if you think it’s too long and you just wanna get straight to the smooching :)) there’s more to come but now the stakes 😌☝️ are higher now that we have some info on what makes y/n ticks. i’m going back to college this week so updates might come later but yeah pls let me know what you think!!