#a bit of a crack au because I feel like it
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✨Slip Into Me: Part 1 Saved Before Dusk✨
QZ! Joel x fem! reader
Series Masterlist Kofi
A/N: This just stumbled upon me when I was driving home from work this week, so I wrote this in about a day. I’m still not sure how I feel about the first chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for giving this a read for me! (I cannot keep up with tags, so be sure to go follow my notifications blog if you want to be notified when I post @mermaidgirl30-updates)
Chapter Summary: You run into trouble with one of the FEDRA soldiers, but a broad, handsome stranger comes along and intervenes.
Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)
Chapter Tags: QZ! Joel, outbreak au, FEDRA soldier tries to attack reader, Joel steps in and saves reader, soft Joel, a bit of pining and a little flirting, eventual smut in next chapter, no use y/n
Word Count: 6.1k
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
The Boston QZ is grimy, filthy, overrun with FEDRA soldiers who stalk and parade up and down the city of turmoil. Their tanks fill the streets night and day, ordering people around as if they were their own personal slaves. The buildings are rundown, furniture tattered and torn, bodies filing in and out day after day just trying to survive off the little ration cards they collect every week.
It’s not a place you wanted to stumble upon, not a home at all. But this was where you’d stay for now because your group was all gone, killed by feral raiders who murdered your friends in cold blood. You were the only one left, untouched in an infected world. You were lucky to make it out alive, but at what cost? You sure as hell didn’t want to stay here in this cage. But you guess it’s better than being attacked by infected or murdered in your sleep.
They offered you a little apartment, ration cards for a hard day’s work cleaning and organizing weapons for FEDRA. You don’t trust any of the soldiers, don’t dare look them in the eyes most days, only when you have to. Maybe one day you’ll make it out of here alive, but for now this place is giving you shelter, food, running water, electricity. It sure beats living on your own out in the woods somewhere where no one else can defend you. You’ve learned to be on your own, but that doesn’t mean you like it.
The air is warm as dusk draws near, the summer heat stifling even as you walk through the shade. Your shift is over, dinner gone and finished, so now it’s time to go back to your cold, lonely apartment. Maybe tonight you’ll actually get some decent sleep instead of waking up screaming from nightmares of distant times. You still see faces of loved ones you lost get murdered by infected and raiders, friends starve to death, companions freeze to death. You don’t know how you made it all this way, but you did. You had to stop holding on to the past, it wasn’t coming back for you.
You swipe your fingers against the cool bricks of falling apart buildings, making your way through the narrow alleyway that’ll lead to your apartment building. Just as you pass a stairwell on the side of the brick building, a dark shadow makes its way toward you.
You freeze, stopping dead in your tracks, fingertips still tracing the rough bricks. There’s a tall FEDRA man walking toward you. Navy blue pants, combat boots, a camouflage vest strapped tight to his chest. He looks menacing. Piercing blue eyes narrowing your way, coarse blonde locks that look like pure ice, a large scar running down the side of his dirty neck, and fists locked tight at his sides.
“Hey, girl. What do you think you’re doing out here all alone? Up to no good I suppose?” he asks as he stalks toward you like a hungry tiger, eyes locked with yours as a smirk meets his chapped lips.
You back up to the brick wall, feeling like you could sink like jello into the dusty cracks of the brown faded bricks. You have nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. You’re trapped like a helpless little mouse. “No, I’m just trying to get back to my apartment.”
“Sun’s about to go down, shouldn’t be out so late in the day close to curfew. You’re up to no good, aren’t ya? Trying to sneak around and steal some ration cards?”
“No, I…”
“Don’t lie!” He bites back, jaw seething as he pulls your wrist and clamps down on your skin. It feels like wires setting your nerves on fire, like he’s ripping through your delicate bones.
“Please, I’m only trying to get back. Let me go,” you beg, using all your might to get out of his tight grip.
“I don’t think so, love. Thieves get searched, and I’m gonna search you till I find what I’m looking for,” he snarks.
Before you can fight your way out of this mess, he spins you around and pins you to the wall, slamming your face into the sharp bricks as you cry out in pain. He crowds your body, digging his fingers into your hips as his other hand shoves your face against the searing surface. You can’t break free, can’t fight your way out of this. He’s too strong, too overpowering. You’re completely helpless.
“Please, stop,” you whine, feeling a warm tear slip down your cheek.
“No, I don’t think so, doll. Think I’ll stay right here between your…”
Before he can finish his sentence, you hear a deep gruff voice growl behind you. “Get the fuck off her, Seth.” You feel the soldier’s weight being dragged off you, hear the sounds of a body being thrown into the side of the opposite wall.
You spin around and freeze, watching a stranger punch the soldier’s face with bruised knuckles. The soldier spits blood from his mouth, but the other man grabs the edge of his navy collar and pins his back against the brick wall.
“Think you’re a tough guy, Seth? Think it’s alright to put your filthy hands on her? I’m sure she didn’t ask you to, so mind your fuckin’ manners and keep your goddamn paws off her,” he growls, spitting up into the soldier’s wide eyes.
You don’t know what to do, what to think. All your brain can do is eye the back of the man who saved you. He’s tall, so very broad, wide shoulders, tousled dark curls that probably feel like silk. His green flannel is rolled up to his elbows, exposing cascading veins that drape down his tanned skin, ending in massive calloused hands. His dark jeans are faded, worn brown boots covering his feet. He looks like your knight in shining armor, your saving grace. Why he saved you, you don’t know. But you want to find out, now.
The soldier laughs in his face, but he only grips his collar tighter as he sends another punch to his swollen eye. When he spits more blood, he turns back to your savior and laughs casually like he didn’t just get beaten up. “Fancy meeting you here, Miller. Say, you ever find those cigarettes and drugs we sent you out for?”
He clenches his jaw, releasing his collar so he can push the soldier again against the wall. “Ain’t got nothin’ for you, Seth. You want some, you can give me more ration cards,” he hisses.
The soldier laughs, shaking his head back and forth. “Five,” he wagers.
“Ten,” the broad man demands with narrowed eyes.
He raises his hands in defeat and sighs. “Fine, ten it is. Just hurry up with my order, will ya?”
The other man slaps his face, hard. You can practically hear the split of a rubber band snapping against skin. The soldier cowers over, holding the side of his mouth in pain as he stands back up slowly. “Tell me to hurry up one more time, and I’ll break your jaw,” he seethes. “I’ll do it when I’m good and ready, Seth. You’ll be the very last.”
He narrows his cold blue eyes, pointing a finger accusingly at the man who saved you. “Better watch it, Miller.”
“You threatening me? I shouldn’t be the one that’s careful, you be careful. Wait till Tess hears about this,” he growls with furrowed eyebrows.
Seth backs up all wide-eyed and bruised, like he’s afraid of the name Tess. Before he can get anywhere, the broad bodied man nods his head to him. “Get out of here, and don’t mess with this girl again. Got it?” he growls with the bite of his scowling jaw.
Seth looks over at you and nods before he runs off in the opposite direction, clutching his vest like it’s the only thing keeping him at bay.
He huffs out a deep breath and turns to you, furrowed eyebrows turning into a contemplative, concerned expression. Your eyes go wide, taking in the front of his face for the first time. He’s absolutely gorgeous. Dark brown eyes that look like pools of honey hone your vision, sweaty, tanned skin glistening in the fading light of day. His dark beard is threaded with silver, a strong jaw set with plush lips that half open when he looks at you. He’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, and he’s so fucking broad. You decide then that his eyes could kill, they could devastate anyone in their wake by how beautiful they are. Warm chocolate eyes flecked with wisps of honey brown. Absolutely breathtaking.
“You alright there?” he asks with concern lathered in his voice, careful with his large steps as he walks up to you.
“Oh, I’m… yeah, I’m fine,” you breathe out, suddenly forgetful on how to take deep breaths. Your heart is racing wildly, you swear it’s about to fly out of your chest.
He reaches out, but stops himself. Instead, he just points out the left side of your face. “Your face. You’re hurt,” he says with a scowl, clenching his hand into a tight fist at his side like he’s furious at the soldier for hurting you.
Your hand shoots up to the side of your face, and that’s when you feel it. The blood, the aching feeling of having your face bashed into the hard bricks. “Ahh, fuck,” you whine, hissing when you try to brush your fingertips over the swelling area.
“Here, c’mon. Follow me. I’ll get ya taken care of. I’ve got supplies back at my place. Can fix ya up in no time,” he offers as he nods his head for you to follow. You stay put, weighing your options. You don’t know this man, but he saved you, so he must be safe.
He takes a few steps forward and turns back around when he doesn’t see you following. “You comin’?” he asks with hope in his brown eyes.
You take a moment to breathe and then nod, agreeing to go with him. “Yeah, lead the way.”
You follow after him, letting him lead you away from the narrow, dark alleyway. When you get on the sidewalk of the main street you notice he walks on the outside of you, like he’s shielding you from any other soldiers who might give you a hard time. You don’t know why he does it, but you owe him a huge debt now.
You cross your arms over your teal t-shirt, looking up at the tall man who saved your life while he leads you to building two where he must live. You’re about to speak, but he beats you to it. “You know, you shouldn’t be out alone when the sun’s about to go down. A bunch of no good soldiers swarmin’ the streets here. What were you even doin’ out?” he asks, turning to a stairwell where he leads you up to the second floor.
“I was just heading back to my apartment. I got a late start with work today, had some things to finish up.”
He hums, looking back at you with furrowed brows. “Next time walk back with someone. Seth ain’t the only lowlife soldier. Gotta be more careful,” he tsks as he takes out a golden key in the pocket of his denim jeans.
You sigh, feeling as if he’s somehow blaming you for not knowing the safety rules around here. “Look, I’m new here. I didn’t know any better. I was just trying to get back to my place. I didn’t… I didn’t…”
“Whoa, hey. S’alright. Nobody said you did anythin’ wrong. I’m jus’ sayin’ watch yourself. Alright?” he asks with his hands raised, like he means no harm.
You drop your guard and sigh. “Sorry, just a little on edge,” you mutter.
“Don’t blame ya one bit. Now, c’mon. Take a seat at the table. I’ll get you a warm washcloth,” he instructs as he opens the rusted red door, the hinges squeaking while you make your way into his little apartment.
He shuts the door, and you take in your surroundings. The walls are covered with chipped white paint, the kitchen tiny, a little solid wooden table surrounded by two brown dining room chairs. The living room is open, a sunken leather couch with a broken coffee table sitting in the middle of an old, threaded blue rug. White satin stain coated curtains cover the glass window, and light shines dimly throughout the small apartment. It’s worn down, but it’s cozy enough.
You make your way over to one of the chairs, slowly pulling it back as to not make it drag across the hardwood floor. When you get comfy in the back of the chair, you watch Joel disappear into the other room, listening to the trickle of a running faucet while the bathroom light shines down the narrow hallway.
You fidget your fingers together, tapping your foot nervously on the dusty floor. You’re in his apartment, the man who just saved your life. And he’s tall, broad, and devastatingly handsome. His looks could surely kill a man with just the gaze of those dark flecked eyes. He had danger written all over those honey colored eyes. Eyes that could eat you alive.
He comes back down the hall a minute later, tan washcloth in hand, flannel sleeves rolled up to his elbows, corded veins skating all the way down to his massive hands. You’re nervous just by those large, thick fingers grasping the washcloth. You wonder what they’d feel like on your skin. Maybe like burning fire, hot charcoal, extreme heat rushing off his rough fingertips. He might feel like wildfire.
He pulls up the kitchen chair across from you and grunts when he sits, like his whole body hurts from the weight of working in the summer heat of the QZ. “Look up for me,” he requests, sliding his chair a tad bit closer to yours, enough to brush his knees against yours.
You gasp when his fingertips meet your skin, his hand cupping your chin and turning your injured cheek to where he can reach you. You were right. His fingers do feel like wildfire, calluses gliding against your smooth skin as he gets a good hold on you. It’s almost enough to send you jolting from the chair.
“This might sting a bit. Jus’ hold still,” he says gently, a deep voice escaping behind plush lips. You wince a little when the warm material meets your wound, but you relax when he gives you that certain look that says be still.
You hiss a little at the contact of the warm cloth across the scrapes on the side of your face. He makes eye contact with you and asks with those deep brown eyes if you’re okay, stopping his movements for just a second before you nod and let him continue.
From here you can see how clear the dark flecks in his eyes shine, a faint red scar above his right eye, silver threaded coarse beard that looks almost soft to the touch, and pink lips that look so inviting. He watches you study him, his own eyes flicking back and forth from your injury to your eyes, silently assessing you with a wary stare.
You see it in his eyes, he’s curious about you, maybe interested, but he doesn’t give much away. You see pain behind those dark irises, a worn body just getting by in the QZ day after day. You don’t know him, but you can tell this much. He’s reserved, quiet, careful, a man that keeps his guard up. You’d like to see behind those walls, if only for a moment. See what all he’s really been through.
After a couple more seconds of silence he finally talks. “You new here? Haven’t seen you around these parts before.”
You nod, watching him trace the edges of the warm washcloth across your cheek. “Yeah. Just got here a couple weeks ago,” you murmur, clenching your jaw when he rubs against a really sore area of your cheek.
“What the hell brought you here?” He says it rough, like he can’t believe anyone would ever dare come here by their own will.
“Raiders attacked my group. I was the only one left alive, and I just sort of stumbled upon the QZ gates. One of the soldiers found me and offered me a place here.”
He hums, dark eyes assessing you slowly, sliding down your body briefly as something twists in your stomach at the sight of him really taking a good look at you. “M’sorry ‘bout your group, but I’m more sorry you ended up here in this hell hole. FEDRA runs this place, and none of ‘em are remotely friendly. Especially Seth.” He spits the name out like it’s poison on his tongue, and you see he can’t stand the man that attacked you.
You purse your lips and ask him the same. “And you? Why are you here?”
He drops the washcloth from your skin, clenching his jaw as he stares with a hardline drawn on his forehead, shaping wrinkles across tanned skin. “That’s a long story that I don’t feel like answerin’ right now.”
Before he brings the lukewarm washcloth back up you grab his wrist, preventing him from lifting his arm further. He stares at you, eyes partly narrowed, challenging you to ask him again. “At least tell me where you’re from. Your accent, are you from the south?”
He leans back in his chair and sighs, nodding his head slowly. “Came from Austin, Texas. And you?” He raises his thick eyebrows like you owe him the same gratitude of telling him where you’re from.
“California. Northern part,” you answer, listening to him hum once again until he brings the washcloth back to your temple.
“You’re a little far from home ain’t ya?” he asks quietly while he brushes the soft material over your face.
“Unfortunately,” you mumble under your breath. Another flick of those pools of honey your way and you see a hint of concern, maybe even sadness buried in those flecks of darkness. He seems to have so many layers to him. You want to unravel them, unfold every piece and dig into his past, his present, his mind. And maybe you’ll get there, one day. Maybe, just maybe…
You suddenly realize you don’t even know his name, how have you not asked him yet? You heard the soldier say Miller. Maybe that was his last name.
You pick at the fading denim of your jeans and raise your eyes to his hesitantly. “Your name. I didn’t catch it.”
Another brush to your raw skin, and his soft brown eyes meet yours. “Joel Miller. And your name is?” he asks with a piqued interest, raising his eyebrows slightly. You tell him your name and he says it back to you slowly, another flick of his dark eyes over your body. Like he’s memorizing you entirely. Your name, your shape, your essence. It makes the room sticky and hot at the sight of his eyes exploring you, even if it means nothing.
“Joel…” you repeat, slowly spilling the syllables off the tip of your tongue.
“That’s right…” He says your name again slowly, like honey dripping off his warm tongue, every murmur and gruff sound making you a bit dizzy.
“You’re gonna be alright. Might bruise up a bit, but nothing that’ll last long. Gonna be sore tonight, jus’ clean it good and keep it dry. Ain’t gonna scar over,” he says as he nods to your face.
He cups your chin again, turning you slightly to him as his calloused fingertips brush a strand of hair behind the slope of your ear, breathing down your neck as you finally smell him. He smells woodsy, summer sweat kissing the air, cheap whiskey filling your senses. Then he looks deep in your eyes, one hand falling slowly to the top of the table, fingertips curling over the scratched wood, his jaw flexing as his eyes travel down to your lips for just a second, a breath in time. And suddenly you’re frozen in place, waiting for something to happen, something that shouldn’t happen. He wouldn’t, he’s not…
Another soft graze of his rough knuckles to your cheek and then the front door slams open, sending both of you back in your chairs.
“Joel! Got some information for you about the drugs we gotta… Oh.” She stops in the doorway, eyes wide as she looks at you, surprised Joel has company. She’s tall, thin but built with muscle. She’s strong, long brunette hair, and hazel eyes clouding her vision.
“Joel Miller has company? Who might this be?” she asks curiously, slamming the door shut with a bang as she folds her arms over chest and nods your way.
Joel introduces you two, and you quickly learn her name is Tess. “Nice to meet you, Tess,” you say with a small smile, your arm resting on the edge of the table.
“Likewise. What happened to you? Looks like you got knocked up pretty good there.”
“It was Seth. Fucker had her pinned against one of the alleyway walls and was givin’ her trouble,” Joel spits as he flashes his incisors Tess’s way.
“That piece of shit. Wait till I get a hold of him, gonna make him wish he never saw the light of day,” she scoffs.
“He’ll be running for the hills, Tess,” he chuckles as he places his meaty hands on top of his large thighs. “What’d ya need?”
Tess leans up against the fading wallpaper and throws him a pack of chewing gum. “Found this when I was outside the walls today, but just wanted to check in about tomorrow. Wanted to go over the plans before we head out in the morning. I can come back later though and discuss it.”
Tess’s hazel eyes wander over to you, and she gives you a welcoming smile. “So, how long have you been here? Not long because I would’ve noticed a new face.”
“Just a couple weeks. Just getting settled in,” you reply as you play absentmindedly with your hair.
“Where do they have you working at? I can always stop by, give you some tips, show you around the area. I’m sure you could use a friend.”
You nod and smile up at her. “Yeah, thanks. They’ve got me working down at the weapons station. Cleaning and sorting and whatever else they tell me to do.”
“I see. I’m sure that gets redundant and boring, so maybe I can show you a thing or two to not lose your mind in this shithole,” Tess replies, making her way over to Joel.
“You’re lucky this one was around,” Tess says with a firm slap to Joel’s back, stifling a grunt from him as he pushes Tess playfully in the arm. “Joel can be a real pain in the ass, but he’s sure nice to have around.”
“Yeah yeah, shut up. Thanks for the gum,” Joel chuckles as he pushes the pack of Spearmint gum into the pocket of his jeans.
“Sure thing, handsome. I’ll see you later.” She waves and gives you a nod before heading out the door. “Welcome to the Boston QZ again.” Tess makes her grand exit and shuts the door loudly, her footsteps fading into the distance.
You twist your hands in your lap, suddenly overstimulated by the presence of an intimidating woman who clearly gets her way in the QZ. You wish you were stronger, braver, more outspoken like her. And clearly she knows how to pull Joel’s strings. You’re not jealous of her, only slightly envious that she has Joel hooked around her finger.
“She seems nice,” you say slowly, looking over at Joel as he laughs at your words.
“Yeah, she ain’t too bad. Trust me, she’ll be having Seth shakin’ like a dog out in the freezin’ rain,” he chuckles.
You laugh at his words, but suddenly you’re asking something you shouldn’t be. “Are you guys like… together?” you ask nervously, gulping down the rest of your words as you hold your breath like you’re underwater.
“Me and Tess? Nah,” he laughs, shaking his head at the mention of it. “She’s my neighbor. But we work together, she’s my partner. We smuggle things for FEDRA.”
“Smuggle things?” you ask, confused by what he means.
He leans forward and places his hands on the table. “Yeah, smuggle things. Items, sometimes people, whatever they need. We go out on a bunch of missions. Searching abandoned buildings, makin’ trades, doin’ deals with folks around here and for some of the soldiers. Kind of an easy way to get extra supplies and ration cards.”
“So you’ve got sway with the soldiers here?” you ask curiously.
“More or less. Tess is the one with the real sway, but I guess you can say people kinda fear me. They don’t really mess with me. Hell, they know not to.” He knocks his knuckles against the edge of the table, and you reach up to scratch your face, wincing when you forget how god awful sore it is.
“Shit, I forgot about my face,” you whine, gripping the edge of your denim tight as you sink your nail beds into your thigh.
“Careful there, try not to mess with it,” he warns softly, bringing back the cool washcloth to your scratches. You sit back and let him tend to your wound, watching how careful he's being with every swipe of the cloth to your fragile skin.
He’s close again, close enough to where you can smell him, inhaling the woodsy scent as summer sweat mixes with the pinecone scent. You could get drunk off the smell, and you really hope it’ll stick to your clothes when you’re back in your apartment, alone with your delusions of having his large hands all over your skin.
You watch the way his large biceps cling against his flannel shirt, like he’ll rip the soft material at any given moment. His knees brush against yours, fingertips grazing your jawline like the edge of a soft feather, enough to send tingles down your spine.
“Is it just you here?” you ask while he holds the damp cloth to your cheek.
“Jus’ me,” he murmurs, dark eyes flicking back to yours.
“Do you have family around. Anywhere?” you ask cautiously. His jaw clenches, and his lip quivers while he analyzes the question, figuring out if he wants to answer or not.
He sighs, “I’ve got a brother. Tommy.”
“Here?”
“Nah. Haven’t talked to him in years. Last I heard he was settling in Jackson, Wyoming,” he mutters, clearly annoyed about the topic of conversation.
“Why don’t you go find your brother?” you ask, conflicted if you should continue the questions.
“It’s complicated,” he grumbles.
“What’s so complicated?”
“He’s halfway across the country.”
“So?” you say mockingly.
“So? That’s a hell of a ways to go to find someone that I’m not sure even wants to see me,” he says with gritted teeth.
“Joel, I’m sure he wouldn’t be upset. What makes you think he wouldn’t want to see you?”
“We got into a bad fight, and we weren't agreeing on some things. Turns out we wanted different things, so I told him to leave, and he went. Followed some fireflies, hell if I know how long he actually stayed with them,” he scoffs, digging his worn boot into the wooden floor.
“Fireflies?” you ask with wide eyes.
“That’s what I said,” he grumbles with furrowed brows, getting annoyed with you already, but you just keep talking.
“Oh, that’s… well, that’s something. But I’m sure he’d want you to try to reach out. Would you go, if you thought he would? Do you have any other family?” you ask intrigued, pulling yourself to the edge of the seat.
He leans back and drops the washcloth to the table, sighing as he pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “You sure do ask a bunch of questions, don’t ya?” he huffs, crossing his arms as a hard line maps across his forehead.
“Well, I’m just saying. If I had family still alive I sure as hell would go find them, not stand back and watch them slip away from me! I fucking wish I had mine!” Your words come out louder, harsher than you mean to, and Joel’s just sitting there, staring at you with wide eyes and an expression you can’t quite read.
The room is suddenly silent, only the sounds of your labored breathing and teary eyes fogging up the room. You shouldn’t have snapped, shouldn’t have thrown that back in his face. You shouldn’t have pried, now look what you’ve done. “Sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to say it like that.”
He opens his mouth partially, big brown eyes lathered in concern holding your gaze. He looks like he understands your pain, maybe just a fraction of that. But he doesn’t share it with you. “S’alright. Don’t gotta apologize. Think we both jus’ over shared a little too much.”
You nod, biting your tongue from saying anything else stupid. What’s wrong with you? “Yeah, guess so.” You take a deep breath, hearing him scrape his chair back while his left arm rests on the edge of the table.
You see it then, a black military watch clasped to his wrist, the glass broken and arms not moving on the watch. It’s broken, just a mere memory of some sort that you want to unlock, but now is not the time.
“Think I should get you back to your place,” he says in a deep voice, one that says he’s finished talking about family matters.
“Yeah, okay,” you say quietly.
“Where are you stayin’ at?”
“I’m in building four.”
“Alright then. That ain’t too far. C’mon, I’ll walk you back. Make sure no soldiers give ya a hard time,” he says through clenched teeth.
“Joel, wait.” Before he can push himself up, you rest your hand on top of his, feeling his warm skin simmer underneath yours.
He stares at your hand on his, ticking his jaw nervously as his brown doe eyes fall back on yours. “Thank you, for today, for saving me.”
“It was nothin’, don’t mention it,” he murmurs, sliding his hand out from under yours, memorizing the way his hand feels like fire underneath yours, mourning the loss of his skin on yours.
“I owe you.”
He looks at you with a serious gaze, his thick fingers clamping down on the material of his flannel. “Don’t owe me a damn thing, sweetheart. I’d do it all over if I had to.”
Oh.
His jaw twitches, amber eyes glowing into yours, a sudden tension filling the room. It feels a lot like longing, understanding, some kind of connection. But the spark of it snaps when he pulls back his chair and stands, nodding for you to follow him. “C’mon, let’s get you back before we break curfew.”
He leads you out of his apartment, down the rickety stairs and steers you through the winding buildings, avoiding FEDRA’s eyes on the main road. His fingertips brush against yours as he walks briskly next to you, staying near and looking every which way as to not have another run in with a soldier.
The city is musty, old brick buildings barely staying intact. Military tanks litter the streets while old broken down cars sit to rot around the QZ. You stay close to Joel, keeping quiet as he concentrates on getting you back to safety.
You should be grateful to him, you are grateful. He saved you, even though he really didn’t have to. He took care of your wounded cheek, made sure you got back to your place safely. You were eternally grateful for the broad man that showed you kindness when no one else did in this godforsaken city. Joel was a good man, as far as you could tell.
He leads you to your building, the one with the number four painted in white on the side of the old bricks. Your room is the first door on the right, a chip right next to the jiggling door handle.
You turn around and face him, leaning up against your solid oak door as you look up into those dark brown eyes you’ve grown accustomed of thinking about too much. “Thank you, Joel. For everything. Really, I owe you.”
He chuckles, running a hand through his tousled curls as he smiles a crooked grin your way. “Gotta stop sayin’ that, sweetheart. You gave me company, I’ll call that even enough.”
You swallow, nodding his way. “Alright then. I guess I’ll let you get back before they catch you outside your apartment.”
You turn around and twist the door handle, pushing it open until he stops you in your tracks and places his fingers around your wrist. “Wait a second.”
“Huh?” you ask, whipping back around to find him digging inside his back pocket and retrieving a little switchblade in his hand.
“Here.” He stretches his arm out and holds out the knife, nodding for you to take it. You just stare at it, your mouth open wide without even taking a step forward to take it.
“Well, go on. Take it.” He steps forward, brushing against your knuckles as he pries your fingers open and drops the knife in your palm, closing your fingers over the switchblade so you have no option but to keep it.
“Oh, no. Joel, I can’t. This is yours,” you argue.
He tsks your way, clicking his tongue and urging you to listen. “Keep it, I’d feel better knowin’ you had somethin’ to defend yourself with. Ya know if someone tries to mess with you again. Jus’ be careful with it,” he instructs.
You open your palm and assess the bronze blade, tracing the cold edges, watching the glisten of the sharp tip reflect off your eyes. You close it up and slide it in your pocket, looking back at Joel with a wide smile. “Thanks, Joel. You didn’t have to.”
“I did and stop thankin’ me. I’ve got plenty more where that came from. Jus’ want you to be safe is all,” he murmurs, his deep voice carrying through your ears as he pushes his hands nervously in his jean pockets.
“Oh, I see.” Your voice comes out in a mere whisper, but he hears you through the hot wind that blows against your hair.
“Jus’ watch your back, okay? It ain’t easy around here, and you can’t trust anybody.”
“What about you?”
He knits his brows together and gives you a tight lipped smile. “You can trust me, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna hurt ya.” He cups your chin, rough fingertips meeting your soft skin. It almost feels electric, like his fingers are magic, and maybe he is. That’s what he feels like.
His eyes hover over your lips for just a second, peeling them back up to meet your wide eyes. He’s got a soft side to him, something someone would miss if they weren’t looking close enough. You have a feeling he doesn’t let his guard down with just anyone, but with you he did, if only for just a few seconds.
He drops his hand from your chin and steps back, keeping his eyes aligned with yours. “Guess I’ll see ya around,” he says, stepping back away from your apartment.
“Yeah, guess you will,” you breathe.
He nods your way and gives you a small smile. “Have a good night, trouble.”
“Trouble?” you question, laughing at the accusation.
“Yeah, that’s what I said. Trouble,” he chuckles as he makes his way back through the narrow buildings, disappearing with one more glance your way, capturing the deep brown eyes that look your way, memorizing them, burning them in the backs of your eyes so you can remember every fleck and sparkle of those sweet honey eyes.
You walk into your empty apartment and close the door, kicking off your shoes and dragging yourself to your falling apart mattress. You collapse into the cool white sheets, closing your eyes and replaying every glance, every touch, every word of you and Joel’s time together. You don’t know what’s come over you, but you clearly have fallen for the broad shouldered man with beautiful brown eyes.
Maybe the QZ wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe it wouldn’t end you like you thought it would. Maybe just maybe Joel would be your saving grace. Maybe those honey glazed eyes would haunt your dreams until you saw him again. And that’s exactly what happened that night. All you saw were crystal clear brown eyes and tousled curls tracing through your fingertips, sheets drenched in the summer sweat of him. You knew then that you were fucked.
Tags: @milla-frenchy @amyispxnk @sawymredfox @aurorawritestoescape @akah565
@rav3n-pascal22 @keylimebeag
#joel miller#Joel miller x reader#joel the last of us#post outbreak joel#outbreak!joel#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x female reader#joel miller fic#joel miller fan fiction#joel miller pedro pascal#protective joel
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Jack: Report on Lecter?
Clarice: Dr. Lecter has been taken out.
Jack: Very goo-
Clarice: It was a lovely restaurant. We had a candlelit dinner. He proposed at the end of it. My last name is Lecter now.
#a bit of a crack au because I feel like it#and because I'm running out of quotes#clarice starling#jack crawford#clarice x hannibal#hannibal x clarice#clannibal#hannibal#silence of the lambs#source: tumblr
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Blue Diamond Miss Trixtin and Pearl Philza for @chrisrin 's gemcyt au!!
#mcyt#miss trixtin#philza#gemcyt#als art#I was just vibing thinking about this au when I realized Kristin would be a great blue diamond#I feel like I could have done more with this design but blue diamonds actual design is pretty simple so I didn't want to add too many thing#also phil was going to be a green pearl at first but I wanted him to be blonde so I made him yellow-green <3#that is the only reason I made that choice#also maybe a bit of a reference to that pink diamond lizzie and lime pearl joel#now TWO diamonds have off color green pearls because they love their silly little husbands#also phil's hair covers his eyes as a reference to blue pearl in the show#look at the cracked gems on kristins hat btw#mayhaps an example to other gems not to cross her? or just a decoration? probably both knowing her
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It's all fun and games until it isn't
#dumb doodles#master m au#1) i think it'd be neat if he tagged along with the other minions sometimes not to help but to follow around the hero(s) to make them laugh#the princess and the green guy are doing this hero thing all WRONG#they should be happy and smile because that's what heros are supposed to DO#the turtle gets it; he seems thrilled as heck during all this#plus....there's just something extra annoying about greenie not enjoying being the main hero and being so /miserable/ looking....#2) ....does. anyone else think mario might... subconsciously internalize his image as a hero?#like; don't get me wrong; he loves helping others and is by default; a happy lil guy#but...it probably is a lot of pressure to be that constant rock and source of comfort#he's probably mostly okay with it and it probably doesn't cross his mind to be resentful or bitter about always being the hero#there's just this small small; easily ignorable part of him that's tired of it#that the mister m persona brings to the forfont in a kinda ugly way if you crack that mask hard enough#in other words; if he drops the smile; then i think his more bitter thoughts and feelings he hides both as mario and master m#are a bit more...obvious if that makes sense#ANYWAYS THOSE BOYS ARE GONNA NEED SOME THERAPY AFTER THIS#3) i. honestly forgot if the mimi fight was before or after the first mr. l one lmao#i just wanted to do some silly puns before the sucker punch#anyways; it's an au; luigi probably isn't collecting hearts in the proper order chaotic lil man he is#super mario#mario#luigi
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mad at my own writing skills rn
#i am really mad at myself#because while i am very good at writing angst i cannot write happiness for the life of me#part of what makes angst so painful is the contrast between the characters in their normal happy charming state#i cannot make characters charming i can only make them sad af#the only way to get better at it is to practice#but practice is hard when you don't have a pebble of turmoil inside of you longing to get out & onto the page#i have so many ideas for long-form stories but i never try to write them because i cannot write the happy sections in an engaging way#i feel like i have doomed myself to a fate of only writing very sad short stories#and continue to doom myself forever#it's hard to practice when the contrast in quality is so huge#& makes me feel like i should just give up & stick to what i'm 'naturally' good at#(and i say naturally in quotations because it isn't that i'm actually naturally good at it.#i just have more experience in it bc in writing fanfiction i can rely on the original media for the happy bits#and fill in the cracks with sadness)#💀#OK you know what#i'm gonna try#i will write try to write a happy scene from my mfu highschool au idea#it will probably be bad & i probably won't end up posting it but i will try#ughghghghgh practice is painful#like pulling teeth but i will do it#personal post#may delete later
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hello please have some "actually a half-vampire just not aware of it" anton au thoughts
(virgil is human and clueless because I refuse for this to be otherwise)
goldblum figures it out and takes anton aside the second time he's brought in for questioning like "dude, are you okay? you got fake fangs instead of using your real vampire ones, you don't need those, you can just— wait, why are you crying—"
(goldblum's either a vampire himself or, to borrow a thing that's too good not to borrow & because it fits the gleefully-open-minded-about-fringe-shit vibe, he dated a vampire once)
@darkfinch had this LOVELY idea for the vampire intiates to stick together as a community post-canon and to my mind, what makes that better here is if most of 'em turn out to be real vampires to some degree - or Something Else, or just Aware of this shit. they're in it for the fun, for the local community, for the "yeah this is bullshit but some of it's fun bullshit and it's funny to see how bad at it the leader is."
when they manage to corner anton (freaking out quietly in his loft) (his whole world shattered in pieces around him) (goldblum gave him a number to call to answer some questions but the poor guy's petrified) half of them are like "we thought you knew and were just trying to blend in!" and half are like "we were trying to figure out how to tell you!!" and it's just this mess of supportive-but-worried chaos.
...and anton, betrayed, off-kilter, already primed to question the programming of the last year or so has some people to help set him on the right track.
this ALSO sets us up for a thing. :) a thing where maybe goldblum looks the other way (an actual acknowledgement by the still-shitty cops in this shitty cop show of how awful the situation is) or there's a terribly unfortunate powercut and a few of the initiates get to pay virgil a visit.
they admit it to anton while very drunk a year or so later and he laughs so hard he cries <3
#I sat on this for too long and it grew extra thoughts but pls feel free to play with whatever bits you want to#the thought of anton the actual real sort-of-vampire with fake vampire fangs (like a numpty) is just incredibly funny to me#the real vampirism was inside him all along & the real coven was the friends he made along the way etc#lost children of the blood#orig#also carefully excised the word 'cult' from this post because I'm not sure it counts if most of the members are#secretly laughing at the leader. sorry virgil you're just not that impressive.#the show never CALLS it a cult anyway just like it never calls it an abusive relationship#and the cult dynamics are way more Implied Not Shown than the abusive relationship imo#so I guess this is also ''anton and the murder victims are actually the only ones having a really bad time'' au#poor sarah and kyle showed up at a legit vampire club and got scooped up#by a human serial killer dipshit and his clueless half-vamp lieutenant. they just got That Unlucky.#this is a shaky crack au based on an already shaky canon it's fiiiine
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callieeee baby did you get my ask? 😭 campus internet is really testing my patience this week. been acting up for everyone since friday and there’s nothing i can dooooo 🥲🥲🥲 anyways if you didn’t get my other ask: you can assign me another emoji if you want 🥹🥲 i feel like it would be slightly weird for you to not see the emoji 🤧 the one i chose (🪼) is a jellyfish because i think jellyfishes are really cool 🥹 like they mind their own business but if you touch them you’re steak. you’re DONE.
anyways. 🧶 or 🫧 or 🧃 maybe? 🥰 pick one! or another one! lovinggggggg the hunger games aus btw!!! like… imagine meeting Satoru and Suguru. victors from different districts, less than one year between them in age and they won the years after each other (Gojo first) 👀👀👀
HIIII omg no i didn't get your first ask 😭 im sorry that u have to keep sending them twice ;(((( but thank you for doing that!!!! im sorry i can't see the jellyfish emoji im sure its beautiful :( BUT the yarn ball is so cute are you cool with me using that one for ya?
ohhhh fuck suguru in a hunger games au is so enchanting to me because... i think his games and the aftermath of them REALLY send him off of the deep end. i think he's a career, probably from a district like one or two where capital loyalty is strong. i also think he volunteers at 18 and i think that the end of his games particularly scar him because he'd been forced to kill his district partner.
after his games.. suguru comes back relatively the same and people are pulled in by his cool exterior and pretty face. the people in his district love him, the capitol loves him, and other victors love (or loathe) him. especially satoru. him and satoru get on well. thick as thieves after their first two years as mentors, but suguru doesn't have the constitution that satoru has. he has more of a proclivity to doom and he begins to succumb to it as he sends others into the arena.
he becomes vengeful, but not in a tactful way, and it gets his family killed. it gets his friends killed. it puts his districts tributes in danger because the capitol punishes him with the deaths of others like him. unlike satoru, who uses his status to his advantage, suguru begins to shy away, retreating into his own personal circle.
i don't think this version of suguru commits mass murder, but i do think he goes off of his rocker just a little bit. his games haunt him, the idea that he was only a kid, that he was tricked into protecting and then subsequently killing his district partner. suguru cannot take the loss and he struggles with the blood on his and the capitol's hands. yes, satoru has been through the same, but suguru takes it more personally. it becomes something that he cannot willfully attempt to shake off. his loyalty to the capitol and his trauma and anger clash in a deeply destructive way.
he's removed from the cameras, from events, he mentors from behind the scenes (if at all), and when a new winner from his district takes over, no one from the capitol ever hears from him again. satoru does though. satoru tries to connect with him as best he can from another district and when people ask with sullen eyes what good could ever come from the games, he can't help but look back on meeting suguru. i think suguru becomes someone satoru feels the need to protect, even if suguru is perfectly capable of protecting himself to an almost selfish degree (given his careless behavior that resulted in the deaths of so many others). but satoru doesn't blame him. fear does weird things to a person. the games do weird things to a person.
yeah... something like that
#cal care package#🧶 anon#i like them#im having trouble describing exactly the type of person that i think suguru becomes#but i think he cracks a bit under the weight#and he refuses more#and listens less#and it gets other people killed because the capitol cannot kill him#but satoru can't find it in him to blame suguru#even if satoru feels a distinctly different sense of protectiveness over the youth#has trouble thinking of words :(#jjk#jjk hunger games!au#char.gojo#char.suguru#tw.violence#tw.death#tw.blood mentions
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Thinking abt the sci fantasy au again. I find Aya and Chisato funny for many reasons but rn because Chisato has such a strong image of them being the one between the two that has everything together but when it comes to the both of their eldritch horror stuff Aya just has like. Everything together human form wise and Chisato super Doesn't and it freaks Chisato out every time it becomes relevant
#rat rambles#band posting#sci fantasy au#just because of the nature of his true form aya had to really really refine his human form before even inching towards earth#while chisato wasnt as instakill dangerous so they mostly just trial and errored their way into a good enough human form to work#so like they seem human enough to the point your agerage person wouldnt notice anything too odd but its very much not perfect#its mostly small things like them always smelling vaguely of salt water or fish and other aquatic life getting really panicked around them#but theres some more noticable stuff thats slipped through the cracks throughout their life#as a kid their eyes were a lot more fishy and even now prolonged contact with them will irritate the skin and make you rly tired#its mostly stuff they just dont know how to fix or used very slap on fixes for#for example they are super water proof since they couldnt find out how to make their skin stop getting slimy when wet so they just started#repelling water to prevent it which comes with its own problems but its worked well enough so far#tbh chisato does legitimately feel rly insecure abt how much more refined aya's human form is#aya feels a small bit of envy towards chisato having the ability to not need to fully perfect their human form as even now that its been#years with him living as a human with nothing bad happening the idea of some unknown misatake in his form hurting ppl terrifies him#and its very much worsened by the maya incedent even if she manages to recover well enough#and by well enough I mean physically shes fine but it did do a bit of a number to her relationship with pain but yknow#meanwhile eve just gets a free easy human form thanks to magic which is good cause itd be hard to do a lot of things as a toxic cloud
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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 5; ghoap x reader)
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4
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Give him blood and he’ll give you something new to chew on.
Except that isn’t the way it goes. Not this time at least.
He tries to talk Ghost out of it, but it falls on deaf ears. Blatantly ignored. The car barrels down the motorway under the cloak of night, a swell of stars overhead as the city falls farther behind. Radio shut off. Johnny thinks if Ghost had his way, the radio would’ve been pulled out entirely, just wires and an empty, black cavity in the dashboard, but it’s a rental.
And no one wants to deal with the paperwork involved in damaging military property. Not even Ghost.
Ghost won’t so much as glance over at him. Unaffected as ever, as if they didn’t just fuck. Johnny’s stomach hurts when he thinks about it. Even without her knowing, he’s broken his girl’s trust. Not for the first time; maybe not even the last. His guilt echoes not only that he let Ghost make him come, but that he liked it—that the buzz in his bones says do it again, please god, again, please let me come, I need to come, touch me, please—
He thinks about his girl, then turns to Ghost again.
In the pit of his stomach, Johnny knows this is wrong. In his rational mind, he knows it. If he were in a better place, he wants to think that he’d make a real attempt to change Ghost’s mind, maybe get him to turn around at the next gas station, but he can’t deny the excitement bubbling in his belly at the prospect of seeing his girl again after a week of nothing.
The silence has been eating away at him. Bits of his brain flaking away, moth-eaten. Checking his phone again and again to no new messages, getting the same voicemail message whenever he calls. Something flutters high in his chest, an itch he can’t scratch; it tells him to take off in the middle of the night, drive all the way back home and pound on her door until she’s forced to answer it, forced to talk to him face to face.
Again and again, he tries looking at it from her perspective—tries to empathize with her. What he would’ve done in her shoes had she allowed a coworker to grab his dick in front of a crowd of strangers. It’s more than fair, he thinks. His own shame leaks out of his pores in the middle of the night, sleeping on top of the covers because he sweats right through the sheets.
And yet, he keeps butting up against his own anger. Talk it out with me, yell at me, he growls into her voicemail, anger growing as the days pass one by one.
It’s the road that alerts him to their arrival into the city more than anything. More cracks in the asphalt, the car rattling over sewer depressions and potholes in a way that says home sweet home. Usually it’s a source of comfort, like seeing the silver lining on grey clouds or the iridescence in an oil spill, purples and greens catching the light. Not now. Now the road winds like descending into the underworld, each turn coming with a sinking feeling.
They park down the road from the flower shop, tucked just out of sight. A cool breeze wafts over his hot face when he steps out of the car. It nearly rocks him back. When he glances up, his heart stutters at the sight of her bedroom window, sealed tight now. Only cracked open during their sleepovers, when Johnny runs a bit too hot at night for them to sleep comfortably with the window closed.
“Should I…do ye want me to give her a call to wake her up?” Johnny asks tentatively, shutting the car door softly so as not to make a noise.
Ghost shakes his head. “We’ll let ourselves in.”
Johnny’s picked hundreds of locks in his time; he’s jimmied open doors with crowbars, set up explosive charges, used a good old fashioned ram from time to time—no stranger to the trade—but it feels decidedly uncomfortable with Ghost at his back, staring down at him as he breaks into his own girlfriend’s apartment.
“This is a bad idea,” he grumbles, turning the pick in the lock until he hears a familiar click inside.
Ghost doesn’t answer, just raps his knuckles against the back of Johnny’s head. A silent get a move on.
Her apartment looks the same but different when they enter it. His muscles remember the layout though. The pink couch in the living room with two dimpled pillows on either side, the footstool by the door, the stand with her shoes all piled in neat little rows, the vase on her kitchen island with a fresh new bundle of flowers, fragrant when he dips his head to take a whiff. He’s loved flowers ever since meeting his girl.
Ghost doesn’t try to muffle his footsteps for once. He rummages through her cabinets and drawers with all the finesse of a first time burglar looking to get caught. It smacks of intentionality. Johnny’s worked with him too many times in the field to know that if Ghost wanted to disappear into the darkness, he would. He’d be the thing creeping silently through the shadows, tread lighter than air, close enough to touch but never see.
So it’s more than deliberate when he noisily shuts a drawer. Baiting her out.
It’s no surprise when Johnny hears her creep around the corner from out of her bedroom. He’s tucked in the shadows of the living room, just out of the light, so he sees her first when she comes silently down the hall, whole body trembling with fear, the bat she keeps beside her bed drawn over a shoulder. Even her hands shake around the grip.
Of course she yelps when Johnny says her name, stepping out of the shadows, swinging wild. He winces when the bat smashes into a lamp, shattering it on impact.
“Fuck!” she screams, scurrying backwards into the wall behind her. Several framed pictures rattle against the wall, nearly knocked off their hooks.
“Noisy, isn’t she?” Ghost grumbles from the kitchen, tossing a bored glance over, unbothered by the commotion. He undoubtedly heard her creeping down the hall as well.
“What the fuck?” she gasps, chest heaving when she breathes. Her eyes dart from Johnny to Ghost’s massive form in the other room. Poor nervous thing. She must recognize Johnny’s voice saying her name even through the panic because her lips droop in a frown, more confused than petrified.
“Hen, it’s jus’ us—nothing to worry about,” Johnny coos, hands stretched out in front of him to show he means no harm.
It gets her to lower the bat, but only just, the slightest dip that has him darting forward to pry it gently from her hands. The ceramic shards on the floor will have to be swept up later, but he’s relieved that at least she didn’t step on any of them.
Up close, she’s just as pretty as he remembers. Pretty as pie. How could she not be? In the glow of youth still, not like it's been a decade since they last spoke face to face—only a little over a week. A sight for sore eyes, even though Johnny’s narrow when he stares down at her and thinks about the week of his texts and calls going unanswered. His jaw undulates, rage held back by the thin thread of her scent that wafts under his nose, making him lean into her.
Breathe in and out.
“Us?” she repeats, brow furrowing.
She glances over at Ghost again, the man still ambling around the kitchen, at home in her little one bedroom apartment like he visits her frequently. Like it’s his as well.
“Aye…Ghost wanted to come—Simon wanted to apologize…for the other day,” Johnny explains.
“You broke into my apartment in the middle of the night…so Simon could apologize for sexually harassing me?” she says, the disbelief smacking in her words.
“Hen, it's no' nice to say it like that—”
“No time like the present,” Ghost says, not ashamed in the slightest. “Heard you weren’t taking Johnny’s calls. Might not’ve had to do this if you’d picked up.”
Johnny doesn’t believe a word of that, but there’s no reason to call him out on it now.
He can see her wrestle with a trifecta of emotions competing for first place. Anger, embarrassment, and then, a smidge of worry holding up the rear. Aware of the fact that she woke up to two grown men, one practically a stranger, breaking into her apartment under the guise of having a conversation. His heart aches at the thought. The lion’s share of the blame rests with him, but still it’s her that suffers for it.
“You…you shouldn’t be here,” she rasps, flinching when Johnny lays a hand on her waist, towering over where she’s still cowered against the wall. Bat gone now, defenceless. Her pupils narrow to a pinprick. He almost tuts, poor thing. Scared out of her wits.
It feels so good to touch her though. Soft and yielding.
“‘Was Simon’s idea, hen, but, ah—” his breathing picks up when his fingers tighten on her waist and she squirms “—I was goin’ crazy thinkin’ ye were pissed for what happened last week. Couldnae get a wink of sleep—kept closin’ my eyes and seein’ your face. Nearly broke me.”
“I am pissed at you,” she snaps, temper getting the better of her.
“I ken, I ken,” Johnny coos, ducking his head until his lips graze her temple. “Simon’s sorry—we came all the way here so he could tell ye to your face, but fuck, hen, I’m sorry too—shoulda said something instead of standin’ there like a fuckin’ dolt—”
“You should’ve,” she interrupts, still fuming mad, an iceberg melting right in front of them. It makes his cock pulse.
“—Aye, hen, I’ve no excuse, none at all. Shoulda told Simon to fuck off and keep his hands to himself—”
“Careful, Johnny,” Ghost says warningly, finally stepping into the living room. He fills out the archway imposingly, almost forced to twist his body on an angle to step in.
Her eyes cut over to Ghost, narrowing, lips pursing. Johnny’s heart jumps in his chest. It’s one thing to see his girl again in the flesh, but to see her all righteous and on the verge of an argument—he could bend her over the back of the couch now, sink into the plush, delicate folds of her pussy, reacquaint himself with deep, languid thrusts. Heaven after not getting his cock wet in a week.
He flinches when he thinks about the last person to touch his dick.
“So you’re sorry?” she says to Ghost, her disbelief clear. Difficult to see why she wouldn’t find it hard to believe that the man that shamelessly grabbed her ass in broad daylight in front of a group of his colleagues and her boyfriend would now choose to apologize.
Johnny knows the answer is no when he sees the way Ghost’s eyes rove over her body, taking stock of her little cotton pajamas and her bare feet curling against the cold floor. Ghost tilts his head to the side, eyes travelling back up to meet hers. “Sure I am, bird. Don’t I look sorry?”
Neither of them answer that. Arguing with Ghost feels different, like inviting in danger. Moving too suddenly in front of a hungry dog, jowls loose and salivating for a bite.
He takes a step closer. “Complete pillock, wasn’t I? And now Johnny’s getting the silent treatment ‘cause of it. Just couldn’t bear another second of him moping around base on the verge of tears.”
Johnny frowns at that. His girl frowns too, but there’s something more to it. He wouldn’t blame her for not accepting Simon’s apology, if he could even call it that—nothing about it rings sincere, more like words spoken softly to call a kitty over—but questioning it feels worse somehow. Like detonating a bomb at two thousand feet above ground.
“…Okay,” she says instead, voice trembling a little. “Apology accepted. You guys can go home now.”
“Bird’s forgiving, huh, Johnny?”
Johnny preens despite himself. “Aye. She’s a good girl, Lt. Told ye so.”
Ghost nods. “That’s right. A good girl who’s gonna let us make it up to her ‘til we have to report back in forty-eight hours.”
“Wait, you can’t—” she starts, then cuts herself off when Ghost’s eyes flash.
He can’t help the way he shudders at the helpless look on her face. Downturned eyebrows, pretty lips slack with disbelief, just the slightest hint of a whine building in her throat that dies when it dawns on her that nothing short of calling the cops will make the two of them leave.
And she’s a good girl—would never call the cops on him. His perfect girl. Sweet as pie.
Johnny falls in love a little bit more when she presses her squeezed fists against her eyes and exhales. “Fine. I’m too—I’m going back to bed. We can talk about this in the morning.”
Ghost doesn’t react to her acceptance. It’s taken as a simple fact of nature—he says something and it happens. He speaks the world into being.
“I’ll take the couch,” he grunts, finally sitting down to unlace his boots. He looks comically large on her little couch—it’s more than likely that his feet will hang off the end, if not everything from the knee down.
Johnny already figured as much. No point in them driving all the way back to base when they both have the next two days off duty and there’s a perfectly serviceable couch for Ghost and the other half of her bed for him. He thought they’d have to convince her a bit more or strong arm her into it (a putrid thought; he’d rather have sweet talked her into the idea), but his girl always manages to surprise him in the best way.
On that thought, he looks over his shoulder towards the bedroom door, cock throbbing again at the thought of getting to hold his girl’s body against his. Touch starved dog. Mangy mutt, tongue lolling out at even the possibility of a pet.
Ghost must notice the object of his gaze because he sets him straight. “You can take the floor, Johnny.”
His tone brooks no argument. When Johnny whirls around, the words already on his tongue, she’s my girl, I’ve already slept in that bed ten times over, the sight of Ghost’s bare face, the mask now off, dangling in his hand like some scrap of fabric, makes him lose his train of thought. It’s not often he’s granted the luxury of seeing Ghost’s face—wide, clean shaven jaw, buzzed blond hair, old burn marks like a half-moon around his eye, nasty old scar slicing through his lips—and to see it now, here, makes something in him give.
Saturnine man with a wolf’s appetite. Ravenous.
It burns him that his girl looks slightly relieved at having the bed to herself. Irks him. Makes his jaw clench on a mean remark, half tempted to spit out something cross. Just because things have gotten complicated, now he’s not welcome in her bed? After the week he’s spent toiling, trying to make amends? Pleading desperately over the phone, stewing in guilt and heartache—Johnny knows she’s a good girl, but if he finds out that she’s replaced him with someone else in the week since they last saw each other—
Even the thought makes him see red.
He watches her as she turns around to retreat back to bed, more than a little displeased.
“Give Johnny a little kiss before bed, why don’t you, bird?” Ghost lightly suggests. Not a suggestion.
She freezes mid-turn. His expression dares her to put up a fuss. Johnny again nearly clucks his tongue, troubled on her behalf. Her spitfire nature is snuffed out easily under that stare. Grown men with experience in the field wither under Ghost’s stare. It’s no weakness of hers that she acquiesces time and again to his demands, glancing up at Johnny from under her eyelashes before shuffling over, pressing the lightest of kisses to his cheek.
“Better than that,” Ghost grunts, unimpressed.
His poor darling. Humiliated now. No skin off his back though. Johnny’s heart pumps double time when she presses her lips to his; soft petals that spread when he slips his tongue into her mouth, too eager after a week of nothing. Touch starved. Desperate to sink into her, lap his tongue over her lips and the roof of her mouth and press her jaw open to spit messily in her mouth. Take it, hen, every piece of me.
She rips her lips from his and dances away when he tries to get his hands on her, eyes wide, casting one last glance over at Ghost before hightailing it back to her room.
He barely resists going after her. Only Ghost’s stare roots him in place; his voice in Johnny’s head that rumbles, heel. I’ll tell you when to go.
He still doesn’t know what it says about him that he angles himself towards it. Bows his head to it. Moth to a flame that shocks him to the bone when he touches it.
Ghost tosses him the second pillow from the other end of the couch and takes the only blanket for himself. No matter. Johnny’s bivouacked on snowy cliff sides, chilblains blistering his toes for weeks; nights spent camped in torrential downpours, his tent on the verge of collapsing; windswept baysides chilling him to the bone. He can handle a pillow on a hardwood floor.
The ebb and flux of an ocean in his ear, and then Ghost’s voice from the couch: “I’ll take first watch.”
Whole body falling loose as if snipping a cord tethering him to the world.
“I’ll clean up the lamp in the morning,” he mumbles, vision already blurring. Ghost hums low in his throat.
He falls asleep with Ghost’s voice in his head, his girl’s taste still in his mouth.
#ceil writing#cod mw2#cod x reader#soap x reader#ghost x reader#ghost/reader#soap/reader#ghoap x reader#ghost/soap/reader
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❖ no such thing as too perfect // jeon wonwoo
wonwoo x gn!reader, 2k+ words
tags: office au, established relationship, fluff, kinda crack, junhui is the best work bestieTM ever, yn is Dramatic and In Love
warnings: none
notes: this was only meant to be like, 1.2k.... idk what happened but im not apologising. also there are a couple of pov switches which i hope make sense!!
“I think I need to break up with him,” you say, and Junhui blinks around a mouthful of salad.
“Who?” he asks, spraying pieces of feta cheese all over the table, and you wrinkle your nose and brush away a few bits that get too close to you and your bento box. He frowns, and then his eyes widen. “Oh my god, you need to break up with Jeon Wonwoo? Why do you need to break up with Jeon Wonwoo?”
You wince as Junhui's loud exclamation rings throughout the office canteen, making several heads turn to look at the two of you.
“Don't yell it so loud—and why are you saying his name in italics?”
“Because this is Jeon Wonwoo,” Junhui emphasises again, shoving salad passionately into his mouth before carrying on talking. “He's the only one of your boyfriends that I've actually ever approved of. Which is crazy, because Soonyoung introduced him to you, and I've never pinned Soonyoung as a guy that knows boyfriend-material guys.”
You reach over and lower Junhui’s fork, preventing him from eating and talking at the same time. “I don't know,” you sigh. “I just… I don't think this is going to work.”
“What did he do?” Junhui asks. His face morphs into a more serious look. “Do I need to murder him for you?”
“No, I— no! Don't murder him!” you say quickly, shaking your head. “He hasn't done anything wrong. It's just. I think I need to break up with him.”
The grave look melts from Junhui's face, and then he frowns. “You need to break up with him… even though he hasn't done anything wrong?”
“Yes.”
Junhui stares at you, mystified, then snatches back his fork to keep eating his salad. “Okay, so you've gone insane. Nice to know.”
You sigh at Junhui's response, rubbing your temples.
Whilst it does sound insane for you to break up with Wonwoo even though he's done nothing wrong, in your eyes, it's actually quite understandable.
Nothing has gone wrong, per se: you've been dating Wonwoo for about ten months now, and everything has been perfect. He's been perfect.
Maybe… a little too perfect.
He's always being so gentle and courteous, silently reading your emotions and knowing exactly how you're feeling at any given moment. He knows what you need before you even know that you need it—giving you little cheek kisses to remind you that you're loved, pushing a chocolate bar into your hand when you're all dizzy and tired, hugging you to sleep when you've had a bad day.
The bento box that you're opening and having for lunch? That was prepared by him too.
Jeon Wonwoo is just so goddamn perfect, and it worries you.
“I don't think I'm good enough for him,” you admit whilst Junhui is busily sipping his water.
It's fascinating how he manages to eat so frantically whilst eating so slowly at the same time, you think idly, as Junhui chokes on the tiny sip he was taking. He sets down the glass, wiping his mouth and blinking at you.
“Sorry, what?”
“Come on, Junhui, do I really have to say it again?” you complain, beginning to open your bento box. “You heard me.”
“Yeah, and I couldn't believe my ears,” he says, tilting his head sideways. “You? Not good enough for him? Please. That's crazy.”
You make a questioning noise. “You just said that he's the only boyfriend of mine that you approved of.”
“Exactly.” Junhui stabbed his fork in your direction, before going back to shovelling leaves into his mouth. “You're perfect for him, and he's perfect for you. I predicted it from the moment you met.”
“I don't know about me being perfect for him, but he really is just too perfect for me,” you whine. “Him and his stupidly warm eyes and that smile… oh, Junhui, he makes me feel like the most beautiful person in this entire universe.” You look down at your bento box, pouting. “Wonwoo's just so perfect.”
Junhui makes a face. “Gross, but okay. I still don't see your point, though. Wonwoo's perfect, and you're both good enough for each other. I don't see why you think you need to break up with him.”
Still looking down at the bento box, you let out a sigh. All of the food is neatly packed away into the separate compartments, and he's even arranged the sesame seeds on your rice into a little heart. It's an awfully goofy but also an awfully Wonwoo thing to do, and you can feel your heart squeezing painfully in your chest, the longer you stare at it.
This is not good. You are far too in love with Wonwoo.
That's what you tell Junhui, and he stares at you with utter disbelief as if you've finally admitted that you really have lost your mind.
“And what makes you think that he's not far too in love with you?” Junhui asks. “You know, one of the reasons that I approve of Wonwoo is because he's just so so in love with you. Like, almost disgustingly in love with you.”
“What?” You blink at him, before shaking your head. “Junhui, no, this is serious. Wonwoo's just so perfect and I'm so in love with him and—and it's actually getting dangerous now. I've literally fallen in love with him.”
Junhui stares at you for a long moment, wondering whether you're actually being serious about all of this.
“That's not a bad thing,” he insists, and then chomps on his salad in frustration. “Y/N, that's not a bad thing at all.”
“Yes it is,” you say, despairingly, looking forlorn as you prop your chin on your hand. “I love him too much. It's gonna—it's gonna get too overwhelming, soon, and then he'll start thinking I'm weird, and he'll distance himself from me, and then we'll break up and I should end this before that happens.”
Junhui shakes his head. “I don't think that's true.”
“Yes it is.”
“No it isn't. He won't break up with you.”
“Not yet.”
Junhui looks away exasperatedly, because you're adamant in wallowing in your despair over having to break up with Wonwoo because “he's too perfect” even while quite happily eating the lunch that Junhui knows Wonwoo probably prepared for you.
It's insane, he thinks, because it's obvious to him that Wonwoo loves you a lot. But he knows you and your negative thinking, and short of Wonwoo walking in here and professing his love to you all by himself, Junhui can't think of anything that could possibly convince you otherwise.
As he looks past your shoulder to the glass doors of the office canteen, however, he blinks.
There's a tall man entering the canteen, his dark hair all fluffy and his glasses-rimmed eyes scanning the area, lips pursed into a look that could almost be described as bored. He has his hands in his coat pockets, wearing the most simple casual fit ever, but he exudes such cold model energy that even Junhui blinks again.
And then he watches as the man catches sight of you and Junhui, and his entire demeanour just softens.
Junhui bites back a grin.
Wow. Maybe he’s, like, actually psychic.
“Wonwoo's here,” he says abruptly, and your head snaps up so fast that he can hear the audible click that sounds in your neck.
“Where?”
Junhui doesn't get to say anything, however, because he sees the moment that your eyes clock the tall man that's striding into the canteen, the light catching the frames of his glasses, and watches as you positively melt, in much the same way that the man had done when he saw you.
He can almost hear every infatuated thought that runs through your mind.
“Wonwoo,” you breathe, once Wonwoo steps close enough to the table that you and Junhui are eating at. His hair is all fluffy and windswept, and you resist the urge to smooth it down with your fingers.
“Hello.” Wonwoo bends down, presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “You weren't answering your phone.”
“Hm? I didn't get any text notifs from you.” You check your phone, trying to turn it on, only for the screen to remain black. “Oh. Is it dead?”
“I suspected as much,” Wonwoo says dryly, but there's a fondness in his voice as he pulls out a power bank from his pocket. “Here.”
Your eyes light up. “Oh, you're a life saver!” You look up at Wonwoo, smiling at the way his eyes look so warm as he gazes down at you. “Thank you.”
Junhui slurps his water loudly.
“Sorry,” he says, sounding not sorry at all when the two of you look over at him. “Don't mind me.”
He's grinning mischievously, for reasons that you cannot fathom, and when he leans forward to peer up at Wonwoo with curious eyes, the mischief in his grin only increases.
“So, Wonwoo, why are you here?”
Wonwoo tilts his head, pushing his glasses up at the same time. “You're Junhui.”
“The one and only,” Junhui says brightly. “I'm Y/N's work bestie. I've heard loads about you.”
You hiss in annoyance, kicking Junhui under the table even as Wonwoo laughs amusedly, placing a hand on your shoulder affectionately.
“Wen Junhui! Why would you say that?”
“Do you talk about me that often?” Wonwoo asks, and his tone is somewhere between genuinely curious and adoring and you kind of just wanna sit there and listen to his voice forever.
“Oh, all the time,” Junhui says, eyes gleaming, and you snap your gaze back to him, exasperated. “Y/N loves you so much. I hear about the extent of it every day.”
Wonwoo looks down at you, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”
You kind of want to deny it, but then that would mean lying to Wonwoo, so you don't.
“Maybe?” you say weakly, cheeks burning as you smile sheepishly up at him. “You're just, uh. Really really lovely. And, um, I kind of love you. A lot.”
Wonwoo laughs, a full and endeared laugh, twinkling with the light of a thousand suns. “I'm glad. Because you're really lovely, and I love you a lot too.”
Your eyes widen, and suddenly it's like it's just you and Wonwoo in the canteen now, him with his hand on your shoulder and those eyes, holding your very soul in place as he just smiles so lovingly and oh God you really do love him.
“Oh,” you say, soft. “Wonwoo…”
Wonwoo just smiles again. “Anyways, I came by to let you know that I'll be finishing work a bit earlier today, so call me when you're done and I'll drive by to pick you up, okay?”
You nod, mute, stunned by the gentlest words of “I love you” that had left Wonwoo's mouth just seconds before.
“It was nice meeting you,” Junhui chirps, but Wonwoo doesn't seem to hear, because he's looking down at you again, before swooping in and placing the lightest kiss on your nose and you feel like you could combust on the spot right there.
“I'll see you later?” he says.
You nod. “I'll see you later.”
Wonwoo smiles, and then the hand slides off your shoulder and he walks away.
You watch him go, watch him walk through the tables and then get to the glass doors, where he turns around one last time to wave goodbye before disappearing outside, and really, it's insane how much you love him.
And how much he loves you, it seems.
“So. He took time out of his own lunch break and came all the way here to give you a charger because he knew that you'd forgotten one and to tell you that he's picking you up later?” Junhui says, making you reluctantly turn back to him. “Y/N. If this doesn’t make you see just how in love with you Wonwoo is, then I’m gonna kick you.”
“Hey, no need for violence,” you say, raising an eyebrow, and Junhui pulls a face.
“So do you see it or do you not?”
You look over your shoulder again, out at the doors. Wonwoo’s no longer there, but you can still imagine the imprint of his warmth, lingering like the softest lavender scent over the entire area.
“Maybe I do,” you say, all wistful and dazed, a smile on your face. “Isn’t he just so perfect?”
Junhui grins, and makes use of your distracted state to steal a carrot stick from your lunch, crunching on it loudly.
“Perfect and in love with you,” he points out. “So do you still feel like you need to break up with him?”
“Hm?”
You blink, eyes still all starry from your few minutes of interacting with your boyfriend, his soft smile etched into your mind. It takes a moment for Junhui's words to register, but then they do, and you can't help but laugh.
“Oh. Oh, no. He and I are perfect.”
Junhui grins. He really is a psychic.
fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect
#fairyhaos.works#k-labels#svt#seventeen#wonwoo#seventeen fic#wonwoo fic#svt fic#svt wonwoo#svt x reader#wonwoo x reader#jeon wonwoo#wonwoo x you#seventeen x you#wonwoo x y/n#seventeen x y/n#seventeen x reader#seventeen wonwoo#seventeen jeon wonwoo#svt jeon wonwoo#svt fluff#seventeen fluff#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo imagines#seventeen imagines#wonwoo au#svt au#seventeen fanfic
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enhypen sleeping positions with s/o ₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩
fluff , soft : idol au : clingy bf
rq for any kpop groups 🤍
masterlist
a/n: after the new en'oclock ep of them all sleeping made me giggle and get to work instead of starting my new series 😭 and this was made at 1am and continued at 8am so im so sorry if its poo poo
heeseung | 희승
the spooner
heeseung is the type to be the bigger spoon in the relationship but sometimes the smaller one for some occasions. he'll definitely have you curled up in-front of him and play with your hair until you drift off. sometimes sings to you softly if you're having a hard time going to sleep or just for comfort. probably snores a bit but the soft snores where its like breathing and not annoying obviously. during the night you guys probably end up in weird positions but still somehow touching each other in some way like; hands holding, legs intertwined, or even just on top of each other at this point. if you guys weren't spooning he'll have a leg possibly out of the covers or up.
"babe stop moving.." heeseung whispered trying to make you stop squirming around while trying to watch whatever you were watching before you guys would sleep. "im uncomfy hee the sheets are literally choking my throat" you barked back while marry my husband intro is playing in the background. "okay okay sorry just calm down and watch this episode alright?" he comforted while playing with bits of your hair in the spooning position. you quickly apologised while regaining your attention to the show which heeseung was also into. feeling his breathe down your bare neck gave you shivers while his jo malone cologne that hadnt washed off could be noticed. he kissed your neck as 'im going to sleep now' which made you quickly turn off your phone and throw it down beside the bed on a pillow. you snuggled back onto him and grab is hands to hug you for comfort which made him smile and dig his face into your messed up hair which smelt of vanilla shampoo.
READ MORE UNDER THE CUT !!
jay | 제이
sweetheart cradle
jay is the type of guy to hug you but HOLD YOUR HAND LIKE INTERTWINE YOUR HAND WITH HIS WHILE YOU SLEEP!!??! i think its more comforting to him because he knows you're there and that you wont leave him. he probably lets you sleep half on his bed and half off but i think most of the time he'll let you sleep fully on top of him but for the sake of this its half / half. i damn right know jay will probably wrap you up like a burrito with blankets so that you dont leave a cold spot for him to wake up to. i think your legs would be intertwined if you both were cold but most of the time its just a head on the chest and arms wrapped around with hands intertwined.
"are you satisfied with how we are positioned love?" jay called out in the middle of the dark with only the city lights shining through through the cracks of the curtains. you nodded and snuggled into his side and took a big deep breath before wrapping your legs with his. he kissed the top of your head while brushing your hair so you could fall asleep first before him. he only did this to know you were sleeping well and not awake staring at the roof. "give me reasons we should complete.... you should be with him, i cant compete" jay softly singed from the song 'slow dancing in the dark' by joji. slightly humming before noticing your out asleep softly breathing with little snores breaking through making him chuckle and closing his eyes to join you.
jake | 심재윤
head on chest
jake is the guy to have an arm behind his head and one around your waist like side hugging you. you on the other hand would be next to him with your head on his chest. he would definitely be caressing your open skin or under your shirt (GOOD INTENTIONS ONLY FLUFF RAHHHH) rubbing your hip with his thumb. sometimes he'll pull you on top of him to get more hugs when he needs them but more of the time you guys are just a head on the chest and thats all. I feel like jake would do a uno reverse and place his head in your boobs and really enjoy it. he'll be in heaven if you play with his hair and be situated in between your boobs.
"babbbyyyyy can i lay on your boobs please :(" jake hovered over your body on the bed pleading for mercy. "no im on my period my boobs are sensitive.. just wait one more day" you answered while looking at him and poking him on the hip, stomach, face. he pouted and looked like someone stole all his legos from him. he settled next to you while pretending to be upset while huffing and sighing a lot so you can get the memo which you did but just silently laughed at. "jake. stop huffing you can lay on them just dont do anything bad" when he heard the first few words he jumped and placed himself on top of you which caused you to wheeze. "thanks baby love you" he smiled while nestling and rubbing your skin causing you to softly find yourself going to sleep which jake did shortly after.
sunghoon | 박성훈
front to front / intertwined
I feel like sunghoon would be so used to having his head under the covers from being in a dorm with ni-ki and his little pranks. he’s the type to just squeeze softly bits of your skin while laying with him in bed. I think during throughout the night sunghoon would just causally move his arm behind your head while you hug him like a koala. both of you are very clingy while sleeping but it makes you both sleep well and have a good night. just like jay and heeseung he’ll probably sing to you so you can sleep. definitely a bit of a tease and annoying you before you sleep but it’s the memories that matter. he’s also the type of guys just to randomly get up in the middle of the night and grab something small to snack on and go back to bed so don’t be surprised if he disappears. you guys are better at sleeping during a move than just laying and staring at the ceiling so that’s why you both said to watch movies during the day.
“sunghoon!! stop tickling me” you laughed loudly and tried to swat away his hands from touching your ticklish spots. he just looks at you loving and smiles and proceeds to tickle the hell out of you. as the tickling continues for another good thirty seconds before stopping and sunghoon laying on his side facing you. softly moving a piece of your hair to the side tucking it behind your ear then proceeding to kiss your forehead. he smiles while hugging you while pecking your neck heaps then moving to your shoulder before finishing. He moves up and lays his head on yours and stroking your hair to make you fall asleep in his arms. “love you hoonie” you said while tangling your fingers with his free hand. he smiles and kiss the top of your head and closing his eyes. “love you too bubs” before drifting off to sleep.
sunoo | 선우
full body on body
sunoo is a guy who would NOT move during his sleep so your the only one moving around heaps. you'll be situated laying on top of him while he has a hand touching your butt (😱🫢) JKKJKJKJKJK he'll just have it resting wherever so it might land there sometimes 😉. you guys would defiently watch ghibli studio before going to sleep or even those tiktok part one to like part 49329 of a reddit story. but i have a feeling you both would just just pass out asleep as soon as you both lay down. you would play with the strands of his poor damaged hair but its okay because its soft either way 😍. theres really nothing else because i generally think you both would just sync sleep ...
"am i the asshole for not giving my baby to my sister?" could be heard off your phone while both of you are silently watching the 5th part of the reddit story. you both left out a gasp everytime something happened but it had finally come to an end which caused you to turn off your phone and snuggle into your boyfriend. you played with the strands of his hair whilst he played with the his shirt that your wearing that was a little too big for you. "sometimes i wonder if i could write up a shit story and get it placed by tiktok and be famous asf" you said out of the blue which made him halt and giggle at your words. "probably could if you wanted" he said while both of you thinking on what you would write about. "oooh i have one, what about 'my sister turned into a furry and tried to kill my kids'" sunoo just started giggling at your title for a reddit story. "well we can talk about this in the morning because i want to sleep >:(" sunoo said before pulling the covers up so it could reach your neck. you both snuggled and fell asleep to dream about eachother wink wonk
jungwon | 정원
body on body / head on shoulder
jungwon would be a sleeper who would just move heaps but you know was great! you both are so waking up would make you both giggle at. sometimes one of you would be off the bed or almost falling off while the other is a starfish. starting the sleep off you would be on top of jungwon while he's hugging you from below. but as the night unfolds its literally everything at once. you guys once mentioned to record from your ceiling to see whos pushing each other off the bed but ends up to be Maeum sleeping in the middle of you both having basically the whole middle of the bed. I also have a feeling that you guys sync sleep so it doesnt matter if one of you were awake later than the other you both are just so used to having each other in bed.
"wonnn make sure theres pillows next to the bed because if one of us fall off the bed we are gonna be in a grump" you stated while sitting on the bed with maeum petting the small petite dog. you laid back while the big bright lights were still on due to jungwon placing the softer pillows on your side while he said the harder ones and one of your teddies that maeum didnt end up half eating. jungwon was finally done and turned off the massive bright lights then settling into bed with both you and maeum. who eventually made his way to the bottom of the bed keeping guard. you laid on top of jungwon while he hugged you like a burrito. "i'll see you on the other side of the bed tomorrow". you stated while snuggling in between his neck and shoulders. "nighty night..!! love you" jungwon stated before falling into a deep sleep.
ni-ki | 니키
body on body / spooning / face to face
ni-ki was a menace and was definitely one before bed as well. he's teasing you but you have bisco to go basically attack ni-ki in the process. but while laying in bed bisco would go off to his little bed on your side of the bed which bisco moved whenever ni-ki placed it in the corner of the room. ni-ki would be the type to have you in different spots but mainly ontop of him so he gets to rub your back and let his hands roam on your back and your hair. sometimes spooning or face to face when you both can't be bothered moving. you guys would definitely send snap videos to the enhypen groupchat of each others 0.5's which you would occasionally get from everyone back. sometimes ni-ki and you would be cheeky and do weverse lives in your bed trying new international foods you would find. normally staff would have to force it off but they gave up and let it only happen every friday night. but either way you guys would sleep as well synced due to all the heavy schedules you have
"bisco go bite his leg" you whispered to the dog who was currently in your arms while you rest against the wall. bisco jumps up and runs to ni-ki to bite his leg and run back to you. ni-ki side eyes the dog before jumping into bed with only the galaxy projector as the only light in the room. while bisco and ni-ki have a side eye comp you brought out one snack which was from Australia which was the tim tam (GUYS AS A FELLOW AUSTRALIAN THESE THINGS ARE THE BOMB) ni-ki started the weverse live which you both enjoyed thirty minutes of trying them while jake was happy that you guys enjoyed them. after the weverse live you both snuggled into each other for warmth as the lights of the city glazed through and the projector up on the ceiling. you both softly fell into a deep slumber while bisco sleep near you instead of ni-ki due to their ongoing beef with each other.
#enhypen x reader#enhypen#masterlist#x reader#kpop#enhypen riki#niki x reader#riki nishimura x reader#kpop x reader#enhypen niki#lee heeseung enhypen#lee heeseung x reader#jay enhypen#jay x reader#sunghoon enhypen#sunghoon x reader#jake enhypen#jake sim x reader#jungwon enhypen#jungwon x reader#enhypen sunoo#sunoo x reader#₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩 avas works
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。MEET UGLY — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)
contents. college au!, rich boy! gojo, first meets, slight meet ugly but mainly he’s just annoying, established relationship in second scene, banter + fluff, kissies for da princess boy <3
dating gojo has always been, and will always be, the biggest unforeseen plot twist of your life.
the first time you encounter gojo satoru, it’s in literature class. he laughs with that dark haired friend of his a bit too loudly in the back while you try to share your thoughts on the reading from last night—it’s not that you particularly care for the class, but you’re trying to get the participation points, and you don’t want some slacking jackass to ruin that for you.
you throw him a glare over your shoulder, making him pause and blink before he shoots you a cheshire grin. you swear you hear a chuckle from the distance as you turn and continue speaking.
the second time you stumble across him is in line at the campus coffee shop. it’s the first day of the semester, and you have class in fifteen minutes across campus, but you’re tired. incredibly so—working shifts back to back late into the night is not doing you any favors, but you have to afford gas money and textbooks somehow.
you need caffeine, and you need it quick so you can make it to class on time.
except the tall, snow-haired stranger in front of you is making that very difficult as he takes forever and lists his wildly long list of syrups and add ons for his drink—seriously, who can even stomach a drink like that? you crinkle your nose as you imagine how sweet it must be. what irritates you more is that he pays for his ridiculously expensive drink that’s far too sweet for eight am with a black card. you glare daggers into the back of his head, wishing you could crack his skull in two with your stare alone.
and then he turns, raises a brow as he stares at you calculatingly—and then his lips turn into a grin as he seems to recognize you. great, you think.
“hey, weren’t you in lit class with me last semester?” he asks, making you sigh as you purse your lips.
“yes. now please move, i need to order and get to class.”
“she curved that final exam pretty generously, i thought i was going to fail—”
“i’ll take a large double shot,” you mumble, ignoring him as you place your order. you can feel his stare from the side as you pay.
“that’s pretty strong, don’t you think?” he asks, making you throw a glare at him from over your shoulder, eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.
it only seems to amuse him more, making you grit your teeth—how irritating could someone even manage to be? there’s got to be some sort of record he’s holding for most nerves he’s ticked off within the span of two meets.
“well, assuming from the fact that you’re a college student with a black credit card,” you huff, “you probably haven’t had to work a single night shift in your life.”
you put away your own card as you speak—one that’s not black, and one that’s going to have a very high bill due soon from the textbooks you’ll have to purchase.
“i like you,” he grins, “you’re funny. how about i—”
you cut him off again, done interacting for the morning. “have a nice day,” you say curtly, walking over to the wait area for your drink.
he seems entirely amused by your attitude—which only pisses you off more. does everything seem to make his lips quirk into that annoying smirk of his? and why is it so handsome? what a waste of such a gorgeous face to be paired with such an insufferable personality. and, because the universe hates you, he waits around for you even after he gets his drink, following you out the door when you grab yours and leave.
“how about i take you out for coffee tomorrow?” he grins, “i’ll pay with that black card you like so much.”
what an asshole—you hope he gets hit by a car and loses a few teeth.
“no.”
“c’mon, it’ll be fun—”
“no.”
“okay,” he chuckles, “feisty. i like it.”
and then, as you turn the corner, he turns with you, walking leisurely behind you as he sips that disgustingly sugary drink of his.
“what the fuck,” you hiss, “why are you following me?”
“i’m not,” he says innocently, “why are you following me?”
where are all the cars in the streets when you need them? and why haven’t they hit him yet?
“i’m walking ahead of you jackass,” you huff, “how can i be following you?”
“oh yeah?” he takes a few strides with those abnormally long legs of his, walking ahead of you as he shoots you an amused grin over his shoulder. “now you’re following me. does that mean you changed your mind about that date?”
“you wish,” you seethe.
a few more steps, and he walks into the same building as you. great—you’ll likely be running into him every morning then. a few more steps and he’s turning the hall to the same hall as you. wonderful—you’ll probably have to deal with him to the walk to class too. a few more steps, and then you realize he’s entering the same class that you’re entering.
fucking fantastic. just what you needed. absolutely divine luck—the universe has really handed you the largest pair of clown shoes it could find.
of course he of all people would be in class with you for another semester—and he seems to brighten considerably when he realizes he’s in your class too, because his grin widens even more.
“well, look at that,” he says brightly, “you followed me all the way to class. we might as well be seatmates.”
“don’t even think about sitting near me,” you warn, “i’m going to go that way. you go that way.”
he does not go the way you point—instead, he chuckles and plops down right beside you. how on earth could someone be so easy to despise? of all the empty seats in the entirety of the lecture hall, he just has to choose the seat right next to you.
for a moment, you contemplate skipping this class entirely and trying to teach yourself everything before the tests just so you don’t have to see him—you’ve done that enough times, it shouldn’t be too hard. but then you remember that this course is notorious for having a semester long paired project that weighs for a hefty amount of your final grade—skipping is not an option.
so, with veins ready to pop any second, and an oncoming migraine, you sit through all of lecture trying to ignore the absolute worst guy you’ve ever met. not only is he rude and obnoxious and overly confident to a fault—but he’s also rich and spoiled and privileged to live in a realm entirely separate from your reality.
you think you might just hate him.
you’re broken from your thoughts when you hear your name as the professor lists the pairs she’s already made from the roster for the semester’s project. this is great, you think, she’ll call someone’s name, and you’ll have that as an excuse to sit with them and avoid the nuisance sat beside you.
everything is fine. you’ll be free in just a few moments. it’ll all be over soon.
“gojo satoru,” she calls, “if you could raise your hand so your partner knows who to find after class.”
then, as if in slow motion, the very same guy who ruined your morning raises his hand, looking over at you absolutely enthused as his eyes sparkle through the top of his sunglasses—which, only an asshole would wear sunglasses indoors.
“hey partner,” he chuckles, “how about coffee tomorrow to discuss our project?”
—————
satoru likes to think that even with his unfortunate start with you on the wrong foot, he’s managed a steady relationship with you.
you don’t tell him to get hit by a car anymore—instead, now you kiss his forehead before bed every night, hold his hand and swing his arm with yours when you’re out, cuddle him after long days and talk about life, and sometimes—when he’s been extra good, you might even do other activities with him that include a whole lot of intimacy and exclude a whole lot of clothing.
he likes to think you’re pretty in love with him—and he’s proud to claim himself as your adorable, sweet, very handsome and extremely funny boyfriend. although, you don’t really ever call him all that, but he’s fairly confident you think it, and that’s close enough.
“baby,” gojo pokes your arm from his spot on your lap, “on a scale of one to ten, how cute would you say i am?”
“an eleven when you shut up and let me work,” you mumble, stroking his hair with one hand and doing calculus problems with the other.
he pouts, huffing in disbelief.
“you know, if you keep taking me for granted, you might lose me,” he says petulantly.
it earns a snort from you as you give him an amused look.
“toru, i think your mom would pay me to get back together with you if we ever broke up.”
“she would not,” he gasps, watching as you bite your lip to keep from laughing.
“remember our first fight? you practically starved yourself in your room,” you giggle, “she had to beg me to come talk to you so you’d eat.”
“that’s not true! i had kitkats and coke zero in my room,” he defends himself, crossing his arms as he sits up. “i was fine.”
“you definitely cried yourself to sleep,” you snicker, “you’re hopeless without me.”
“i am just fine without you,” he lies through his teeth, turning away from you as he tilts his head up indignantly.
“remember when you couldn’t even last a week without me while i was studying for finals? and then your mom had to call and beg me again to spend time with you?”
“that’s not—”
“admit it, toru,” you grin cheekily, pinching his nose as you chuckle, “you’d probably die if we ever broke up.”
“and you’d be fine?” he asks incredulously—he’s almost distressed at the idea, staring at you in slight hurt that makes you laugh before setting your calculus homework aside.
you grab his arm and pull him into your side, kissing his head as he slumps onto your chest.
“i don’t know, i don’t think i’d mind watching a mopey satoru beg me to take him back.”
“you don’t deserve me,” he grumbles, “i deserve to be loved and cherished. i’m a catch.”
“i bet you’d make that ugly face of yours when you cry,” you tease, making him look up at you with an offended gasp.
“i’ll have you know i’m exceptionally pretty when i cry. the waterworks have gotten me loads of things from my mom—i’m irresistible.”
“you’d probably be on your knees in seconds,” you continue to poke fun at him, “please take me back. i’m nothing without you, baby,” you mock his voice, giggling as he glares at you unimpressed.
“now you’re just being a bully. do you even love me?”
“i do,” you grin softly, pecking his cheek, “i love you a ton. you know that.”
“you don’t act like it,” he grumbles.
you laugh, hugging him tighter as your fingers slip into his hair again. sometimes, you think you should be shocked you’re here—laying in bed with gojo satoru and kissing his cheeks as he pouts. you of the past might just kill you of the present if you saw yourself now….but something about gojo is charming enough that you can overlook the very annoying first impression you had.
enough that maybe….well, maybe you might also be a bit hopeless without him—but you’ll never tell him that.
something tells you he knows, though, when he wraps a strong arm around you and pulls you impossibly closer, kissing the corner of your lips as he grins.
“what about that time you got soooo jealous?” he grins, “we weren’t even together yet. and remember that time you begged my mom to take home baby pictures of me? you’re obsessed,” he says proudly, “i would be too. i’m adorable.”
“you’re a pain is what you are,” you mutter.
“i love you too,” he chuckles, burying his head into your shoulder.
you grin, the curves of your lips painted with love as they find his forehead, pressing delicate kisses to the skin. maybe being paired for a semester long project with the annoying rich boy in your class wasn’t so bad—maybe you owe finding the softest love you’ve ever had to the strict and unpleasant professor who gave you an A- when you definitely deserved an A.
“and how are you so sure i love you?” you ask playfully. he rolls his eyes, grabbing your hand and lacing your fingers with his.
“because you haven’t hit me with your car yet,” he bites back, making you laugh brightly.
plssss i want him so bad i cannot take it anymore every day without him feels like pins and needles in my skin it’s utter agony i feel like my life’s meaning has been stripped from me i feel like my lungs and heart both burn from the lack of oxygen i feel like i am but an empty shell with no soul lost and wandering the planet searching for a reason to go on
ps. if you have been reading along w rb! gojo i hope you caught some of the references to old drabbles ;)
#teepods.writings#drabbles.#rich boy! au#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru fluff
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I ❤️ DILFS / GOOD GIRL (18+)
pairing: student!brother's bff!seokmin x student!good girl!reader
genre: college au, brother's best friend au, smut (MDNI), bit of crack, a small bit of angst but not nearly as much as most of my fics
description: when you head out for college, you incidentally end up at the one your bother's best friend has disappeared to 2 years prior. now, seokmin has promised your brother, vernon, to teach you and take care of you while you're away from home. unfortunately, it seems vernon should have been a bit more specific about what exactly seokmin was supposed to be teaching you.
warnings: vernon is ur overprotective brother, seokmin is not a dilf unfortunately, dirty talk, masturbation (male and female), fingering, slight restraint?, praise (f. receiving), pet names (good girl is so overused), teaching, innocence kink, corruption kink, oral (m. receiving), tiddie play, alcohol consumption, a bit of pining, shame on the readers part, she feels a bit like a slut for a moment, kinda brief mention of miscarriage? for like a metaphor lol, jeonghan is hot in this, giselle is ur bff and i almost gave up my mission and made this whole fic ab her shes so hot, ok i think thats it
quotes my creative director (@joshibambi): "just admit u wanna bang son", "o is for orgasm", "the urge to be the younger sibling for once"
wordcount: 15.9k
a/n: the way this fic took me years to write. i hav been busy :( thank u 2 every1 who liked girl code uve made my whole year :D hope u like this one 2!!
You preferred to remember Seokmin for how he was.
How he was small and young, how he had a swanky bowlcut and how he looked in his school uniform. How he and your big brother, Vernon, had bonded and watched movies together in your living room, and the countless dinners he’d stayed over for, always so respectful to your parents and you. He wasn’t your best friend, he was Vernon’s, and yet he made it so easy to feel comfortable, so easy to feel like you were the one he came over for.
You crushed on him back then, wrote countless diary entries about him and his stupid, beautiful smile. But it had been so forbidden, you remembered feeling that, because of how Vernon had groaned at you to leave every time you peaked your head through the living room door, masking your insistent eyes on Seokmin with simply wanting to “watch a grown up movie”. Sighing, you’d turn back to your princess pink room, and the boundary - the Vernon shaped boundary - that stood between you and Seokmin grew farther.
It had almost been a relief when Seokmin left for college. That was the most terrible thing, the relief you felt while your brother was grieving the sudden separation with his best friend. But your heart simply couldn’t help but let out a long sigh - years of yearning for him when he was so close by. You felt that cool wash of repose when that border between you and him had disappeared from your view. Years of watching it, wondering whether to pad closer or turn away from it, became a distant memory. For two years you were almost a normal girl and a good baby sister.
Then it was your turn to head off for college. The nearest, big college to you accepted your application and you still distinctly remember dinner with your parents and your brother, how’d they’d cheered and clinked glasses and looked at you adoringly, because you were growing up right before their eyes. Then under the faint light of the restaurant chandelier, your mom had said something that immediately sent you hurdling back to that old, distant boundary: “Maybe you’ll see Seokmin there!”
How had you forgotten? You supposed in that time you’d let yourself be more taken with the relief. It was the thought that he would be gone that had distracted you from exactly where to. And there you were with all your moving plans and your packed backs, and your glass raised and frozen in the air and your eyes wide.
Then came the reasoning: surely, you could avoid him? It was a big college, there were plenty of people. There was no logical reason you’d really have to see him. Except for Vernon, of course. Ever so oblivious, your brother had called up Seokmin to tell him the good news, and to tell him to take care of you and protect you. And Seokmin was so sweet, of course, he’d take care of his best friend’s baby sister.
And there you were at college. All grown up.
In your defense, you had avoided him skillfully. You’d turned down his request to help you with unpacking, turned down his tour of the school (that you’d actually desperately needed - why is room 240 not with all the other 40’s?!), and most of all, you’d turned down every single message inviting you to a party.
I guess to him that was a perk; partying with the older kids. He knew you after all. He knew that you were a quiet girl and you stayed within your neatly laid brick walls, and he knew you were shy, and he knew you needed help letting loose. He knew you were a good girl.
Which is why it wasn’t surprising at all that you turned down his offers - wanting to stay focused on school. At least, that’s what you told him. Truth was even being in his vicinity had put you much closer to that boundary you’d never dared cross. You were afraid even just seeing him would send you hurdling back, like a leaf in the wind. So you didn’t go.
For a while, at least.
“This is, like, a once in a lifetime opportunity!” Giselle whined and you shook your head adamantly. “Absolutely not.”
“Well, maybe not for you, but for me!” she argued. “I can’t believe you’re consistently being invited to parties with hot, sexy men, and you’re turning it down because of one guy!”
You were currently sitting in the library with your roommate, Giselle, and you’d made the unfortunate mistake of telling her about your predicament after receiving yet another invitation to a party tomorrow. Giselle was throwing a temper tantrum because she had never ever had anything as ridiculous.
You liked Giselle a lot. She was very different from you - she was hot. You weren’t - you were cute. Giselle held boys on leashes and made them do homework for her. She liked partying and sexy, black dresses. You were a fucking nerd, and cute was the highest compliment you had ever received for your looks. Even though you were different, Giselle had immediately taken a liking to you. You had initially feared she would think you were lame, but she was so nice - except for right now.
“Come on, Y/n, there are, like, no cute guys in our year!” she said pleadingly, clasping her hands together and pouting, but you shook your head.
“You don’t understand, Giselle,” you murmured solemnly, trying to regain your focus on the science textbook in front of you.
“I understand perfectly well,” she said and you eyed her suspiciously. “I understand that you’re a bitch!”
“Alright, that’s unnecessary,” you said, closing your book. You pinched the bridge of your nose, when she went on. “No, honestly, Y/n. You’re a virgin, right?”
You snapped your head towards her in shock. Your eyes darted around frantically, before you leaned over the table to whisper to her: “How do you know that?”
“Don’t embarrass yourself, honey,” she grinned, holding back laughter and you rolled your eyes, sighing. “And what about it, Giselle?”
“How are you ever gonna get yourself out there if you’re constantly caught up on this guy and trying to keep away your feelings for him? You’ll stay a virgin forever, girl. You need to look him in the eyes and realize you’re above that childish crush!”
You stayed quiet, slumped in on yourself with your book in your lap. Why was she making sense?
You’d never thought about it that way. That your infatuation with your brother’s best friend was somehow holding you back from exploring and evolving as a woman. That maybe having him in the back of your mind every time you’d shyly made out with guys in high school, had been the thing that stopped you in your tracks.
“I can see it on your face, you know I’m right,” Giselle smiled smugly from behind the screen of her laptop. “Unless you’re asexual. In that case, fierce, but if you’re not, like, get out there, queen. Sometimes you need to realize that you have to leave one dick for another dick because the other dick is so good.”
You furrowed your brows. “Is.. Is this still about me?”
“No,” Giselle shook her head.
“Okay, yeah, ‘cause- ‘cause that didn’t..”
“Yeah, I know. I was more so, uh, angling-”
“Right-”
“Angling the story to- to my current situation.”
“I get it, yep.”
There was a moment of silence. You pursed your lips and looked at the message on your phone. Then you started typing.
“Are you telling him you’re coming with your super sexy, hot friend?”
“Yes.”
“Y/N, I LOVE YOU.”
_____________________________
Regret was a nasty, old demon on your back and it had twisted and tugged at your guts, while you let Giselle get you party-ready. You’d sat on her bed, in her dress, and having her put her makeup on you, you’d sulked and tried to shrug off your back.
“You look so hot when you actually try,” she’d giggled, using a fluffy brush to spread the bake underneath your eyes.
“Thanks,” you’d mumbled, and she’d paused her movements, frowning.
“What’s wrong?” she’d asked, sitting back on her knees. You had sighed, reaching a hand up to run it through your hair, but pausing midway when you realized you would ruin the styling Giselle had worked so hard on. You lowered your hand again.
“I’m not sure about this,” you’d murmured and she frowned genuinely. “Y/n, I meant what I said. I know I talk a lot about boys and stuff, but you really shouldn’t let yourself be held back by him!”
Before you could speak again, Giselle had tugged you off the floor to stand in front of her mirror.
“Look at you,” she’d cooed, clapping your shoulders. “You look so pretty!”
You’d smiled a little shyly, looking at your form in the mirror abashedly. You were pretty. Not cute, not nerdy; pretty. Curves hugged tight by a sleek, black dress from Giselle’s closet, this was a version of you that could actually see having sex - seducing men, gaining from her looks.
“I guess you’re right,” you’d said sheepishly, and Giselle had smiled sincerely and you’d let her take you to the party down the streets in a nearby frat house, and you’d almost not wavered when you stood right in front of it, music blasting out of every crevice.
But then you were inside and he was right there. For the first time in two years, he was there, and he was so hot. He was wearing a white tee and a fucking silver chain, and, God, when did he start working out, because his arms were so big and so toned. And his hair was fluffy and dark brown, and his face was slim, and the tops of his cheekbones were shining under the kitchen lamp, where he was talking to some other guy, arm flexed, as he leaned against it on the counter.
If there was one thing about Seokmin that had stayed the same it was that smile. He wore it now, laughing, as he talked to some blonde guy about something, and you wanted to scream because, there it was. The boundary, the ledge, the line, whatever, it was right before you again, right there with him. And all the feelings that came with it, your heart, wet and red in your throat, a brew of anxiety in your stomach.
Without sparing even a second, you’d clasped onto Giselle’s wrist, tugging her into a herd of anonymous people, and just walking. Walking, walking, pulling her along (she countered only with a “hey!”) only for you to hit a wall or something, just as long as you were far, far away from him.
“What the hell?” she said, when you finally stopped walking because you’d entered the living room, which was apparently more exclusive, as only a few people populated it, including a couple that was making out on the far end of the couch.
“He was there,” you gasped dramatically, as if you’d seen a ghost. “I-I can’t do this, Giselle.”
“Relax, babe, it’ll be fine. You’re away from him now, aren’t you?” Although she was trying to be supportive, you could tell she was growing a little tired of your theatrics. You couldn’t care less though, you were panting, and peering over her shoulder to see if he was somehow coming towards; and, God forbid, smile at you with that angel grin.
Giselle followed your gaze and sighed, brows furrowing. “How about I get us some drinks? Then you can let loose a little.”
You nodded absently, following her lead when she pulled you to sit down on the couch. You clambered to the couch rest, when she walked away, swaying her hips to the music.
You might’ve looked different, but you were still you. The entire scene had you uncomfortable, and you were still the shy, unconfident and nerdy girl. You cursed yourself for letting Giselle’s reassurances fool you - you would never be this type of person, and you would surely never get over Seokmin. She’d been wrong about everything.
“You okay, darling?”
You jumped at the voice, eyes darting up to see who it was.
You didn’t know him. He was handsome, though, but you’re not even sure you’d call it that. He was pretty, and he had long, black hair and big eyes and he was giving you this teasing smile, that was doing nothing to ease your nerves.
“I’m good,” you squeaked, gaze moving to a nearby pair of shoes in the corner of the room. You heard him chuckle, before he dropped into a squat before you. One lean hand came up to your knee, giving it a squeeze. “You just look so nervous, pretty,” he sat down an anonymous cup of liquor. “I don’t think I know you. Can you tell me your name?”
The hand on your knee burned into you, thumb brushing back and forth over the skin and he was looking at you so intently, it had you sputtering. “Uhm, uh, Y/n.”
His thumb froze. You looked over at him curiously to find this dumbfounded expression on his face, devious grin spreading on his pretty features. He chuckled and cleared his throat, face dropping down before he moved it back to look at you again.
“You’re the girl Seokmin’s always inviting over here?”
You nodded shyly and he smiled at you. “I’m Jeonghan.”
“Hi.”
A pause. Jeonghan squeezed your thigh, watching in delight at the way you screwed your eyes shut.
“You know, I just didn’t expect you to look like this,” he said finally and, sensing your confusion, he teasingly added: “The girl who’s always turning down parties to study.”
You blush deepened, cheeks furiously rosy, as you fiddled with your fingers in your lap. “I borrowed my friend's clothes,” you breathed, pursing your lips. “Ah!” Jeonghan gently patted the top of your thigh, nodding along exaggeratedly, “You borrowed your friend’s clothes! I see!”
He studied you while you giggled at his antics, still refusing to look him in the eye, really. He was almost suffocating, his hand on your thigh and his eyes boring into your face, and his cologne in a constant stream in and out of your nostrils. But suffocation, you decided, was almost better than being around Seokmin and having him parade his kind heart and his thick arms and his sweet smile, and just how off-limits he was.
Ripping you from your thoughts, Jeonghan stood up, placing both hands on the tops of your thighs and bending down to your face, so his nose was buried in your cheek.
“Look at me, darling,” he whispered, then pulled his face away from yours, just enough so you could gaze into his brown eyes. His hands were much higher now, squeezing hard at the plush of your thighs, dangerously close to your center and only separated by the thin fabric of Giselle’s dress.
“There she is,” Jeonghan smiled, voice a whisper. His lashes came over his eyes, when they flitted down to your lips. “Don’t you wanna come with me upstairs, and I can make you feel really, really goo-”
“JEONGHAN! GET OFF OF HER, THAT IS MY BEST FRIEND’S BABY SISTER!”
There’s a voice you know.
From across the room, Seokmin had burst through the mass of people, now power-posing with an extended finger in the direction of where Jeonghan was tilting over you, rubbing your thighs, as you sat innocently before him.
Jeonghan stood up, taking all of his heat and his suffocation and cologne with him, groaning and throwing his head back. “Seokmin!” he whined and he was suddenly no longer so suave and seductive.
“No, I won’t hear it, Jeonghan,” Seokmin said and, as much as you knew Seokmin to be sweet and tender and lovely, there was this crystal-clear anger in his voice. He walked over, one large hand pushing at Jeonghan. “Go get any other girl and sleep with her, just not her. Get your sorry ass out of here.”
Apparently Jeonghan sensed the same thing you did - a rare anger in Seokmin - because he didn’t put up much of a fight at all, only smiled at you apologetically (and then, when he was behind Seokmin, gave you a small, devious wink - he just couldn’t help himself).
You couldn’t focus much on Jeonghan at all though. Because Seokmin was standing in front of you, all muscle and huge fucking thighs by your head, and when you dared to tilt your gaze up to him, you saw how all that anger simply melted away.
“Hey,” he breathed, smiling softly.
“Hey.”
Then his eyes darkened, if only for a moment, as they traveled over your figure, gift-wrapped in that tight, black dress. His jaw clenched and he looked around for a moment. When he looked at you once more, he was giving you that smile - the one you’d fallen in love with - and the chocolate in his eyes was melting.
“Come on,” he ushered gently, one hand carefully guiding you off the couch. “Let’s go to my room where there aren’t any scary, evil, mean men.”
Despite being so on edge, so jittery, as you followed him up some distant staircase, you couldn’t help but laugh at those words. He was talking exactly like he had when you were kids. That was how you preferred to remember him; all small and young and with a swanky bowl cut, and he’s the exact same way with you, hand warm in yours, as he guides you through the house.
“Why’re you laughing?” he smiled, and you suppressed your own, trying not to dwell too much on how fast your heart was beating. “It’s just like before,” you quipped and Seokmin’s hand squeezed yours in understanding.
He lumbered down the hallway and at its very end, preceded by rows of white oak doors, he opened his own with a twist and a turn of the brass-blend knob. When he closed it, the party became muffled around you, as if his room was filled with water, and now the rest of the world was a garbled mess, and you were drowning.
His room was clean. You supposed Seokmin had never been the messy type - not even when infected by the influence of Vernon. He had a half-open closet, where you spotted folded clothes, and a circle rug and purple and green lava-lamp plugged in on his nightstand.
Seokmin apparently did not think it was clean enough, because he swooped down gallantly to grab a tossed sweater, smiling at you sheepishly when he held in between his fingers. You stared at him.
You felt like a kid again. Felt like just a young girl, creeping through the crack in the living room door, and looking at his silhouette, outlined by some grotesque horror movie playing on the TV. His sharp nose, when he turned to Vernon and laughed, his hair, all poofed and tousled and scruffy, and his smile.
And you’d let yourself fall into this trap, maybe to some extent you’d even wanted it. Because now he was right in front of you, and so was that damned barrier, right by your outstretched fingertips, and you could almost envision yourself climbing over it - climbing into his lap and-
“I didn’t think you’d ever come,” Seokmin said gently, a permanent, small smile frozen on his lips. You coughed, unready. “Uh, yeah, my friend- my friend thought I should try and.. You know, get myself out there.”
Seokmin studied you, bemused and fond, fiddling with the baby blue sweater in his hands. You were looking back cautiously, as if assessing a threat, but the threat was the sweetest, kindest boy in the whole wide world.
“Yeah, well,” he cleared his throat suddenly, ripping his gaze from you to fold the sweater onto his desk chair. “I’m sorry about Jeonghan, he’s.. You shouldn’t, uh..” Now neatly folded, you saw him rubbing the sweater between his fingers. “You should stay away from him.”
“Why?” you asked, and it was genuine enough that Seokmin let out a sigh.
“You’re too much of a good girl to be with him. He’s no good.”
A whimper clawed its way up your throat, bubbled from the depths of your belly, but you tamed it and settled on a light hum. You felt your underwear becoming a little sticky, and you wanted to die, because God, this was your brother’s best friend. They still facetimed every Tuesday and still played Fortnite together over Discord every Saturday.
“College going good?” Seokmin asked, retreating from the sweater to sit down on his bed. He looked up at you brightly and patted the spot next to him. It felt like another trap, where the folds in the blanket curved down under his weight, and would eventually lead you into him. You sat down hesitantly.
“It’s okay,” you breathed, folding your hands and in your lap and tensing your shoulders. Seokmin, fully relaxed and slumped, noted your posture and slid his hand over the exposed skin of your back. “Hey,” he whispered, so intimate it hurt your heart, “hey, hey, relax, Y/n. It’s just me.”
His eyes were soft and full of concern when he spoke quietly again, his voice almost a backdrop to the muffled sounds of dancing college students: “You know, Vernon was really concerned about how you would do away from home.”
“I’m not doing bad!” you said quickly, dismissing it immediately. Seokmin stared at you. “I just- this isn’t really my scene.”
His hand felt searing hot on your back, where it slid up and down, almost coaxing you further into him. He hummed. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”
Then: “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had to come. Just figured you might want that street cred of being friends with the upperclassmen.”
You snorted and, cheeks rosy as ever, started giggling, eyes still cemented to the floor. Your hair was falling gently over your face, wisps of baby hair tickling your forehead.
“It’s okay,” you sighed away the laughter, “You were just trying to get me out of my shell. I appreciate it.”
Seokmin smiled at that. His hand dropped from your back and you both stared into the expanse of his room. A small window to let in the rain, the moonlight separated by the grid, and the curtain blowing in a solemn breeze. You and Seokmin sat, both very small suddenly, like kids, on the edge of the bed and became speckled in starlight, in diamond-dust.
Then Seokmin was doing it. He was letting you be comfortable, letting you slip into a dazed joy, intoxicated from his presence. He was asking about your teachers, exams, friends, experiences, and you were both laughing together, and once again you were forgetting that Seokmin was your brother’s best friend, and he was not with you for you, but he was simply talking to you out of courtesy to your brother. He let you forget.
“You going home for the break?” he asked then, room quieted down from all the laughter. The fall break, starting tomorrow, you remembered. You’d thought about going home, but had opted to text your parents that you were staying, wanting honestly to stay in your dorm room and work on assignments and organization and just lull in bed, instead of being taken up, down and everywhere in your hometown. You shook your head.
“Really? Me neither,” he said, brows raised. “Won’t you get lonely?”
You giggled shyly. “Maybe a little.”
“We could hang out,” he breathed, and at that you tasted the boundary between you, felt it firm under your fingertips, because you couldn’t discern whether he was protecting his friend’s baby sister or if he actually liked talking to you, and your heart beat and yearned and hoped for the latter.
“Yeah, okay,” you nodded, melting when you saw his smile reach his eyes.
“Didn’t you always like, uh, Mario Kart? You always wanted to play with me and Vern,” Seokmin said, but he was looking distantly into the window. You almost wanted to cry because he remembered you, remembered things that you liked. “I got it on my Playstation, we can play tomorrow.”
“I’d like that,” you said.
Then Seokmin was loaning you his hoodie, and, bathed in his warm, tender smell, he followed you home under the moon, glaring at Jeonghan on his way out.
“Keep the hoodie,” he’d said, smiling sheepishly when you stood in front of your dorm door. “It’s cute.”
He patted your head and left, thankfully before he could see how red your face was, and how you were absolutely about to blow up from unfiltered joy. You shuffled into your dorm room and tried to soothe the basking butterflies in your stomach and your burning heart.
Was he standing right across from you on that line, waiting to cross?
_____________________________
Giselle woke up just early enough to catch you switching between different button-up dresses, throwing one on, looking in the mirror, and deciding to try another. She was groggy and tired and somewhat hungover, and needed to catch a train, so she could get back home.
“What are you doing?” she cried, rubbing her eyes. You scurried back and forth trying on another dress, considering white tights, then white socks, then adjusting the tone and volume of your blush.
“I’m-” you gasped in between your hard labor, “I’m seeing a boy!”
This caught Giselle’s attention. She shot straight up in her bed and looked at you with huge eyes. “No way!”
“Yeah way!” you giggled deviously. You turned around to face her. “What do you think of this outfit?”
“You look cute!” Giselle praised, nodding to your red strawberry dress and your knee-highs. You slumped. There it was again - cute. Not hot, not pretty, but cute. That was what you were; like a child, like the kid Seokmin knew years ago, like his best friend’s baby sister. Nothing more.
“Who is this mystery guy?” Apparently Giselle was too busy rubbing sleep out of her eyes to see how her compliment had deflated you.
“It’s Seokmin. My-”
“Your brother’s best friend?!” She gasped. It was one shock after another from you that morning. “I wanna say I’m disappointed in you, but.. If you pull this off you’re way freakier than me.”
“We’re not gonna have sex!” you groaned, pouting as you hastily shoved on your shoes. “We’re gonna play Mario Kart.”
“Right, this cute guy just invited you over for Mario Kart and nothing else, I get it,” Giselle said sarcastically.
“You don’t know him,” you mumbled defensively, shoes on and now staring at yourself in the mirror once more. “Cute,” the mirror spat at you.
“All men are the same,” Giselle rolled her eyes and threw herself back on the bed. You snorted and began to walk out the door.
“Y/n, wait!”
“Hm?”
Halfway out the door, a tote bag slung over your shoulder and ready to step into the sunlight, you peered back into the room. Giselle, in her sweats and hair fussed, stumbled blindly towards the door. She reached into her pocket and produced a-
“A condom?!” you shrieked, outraged. And not just any condom: a condom in white packaging with the lettering “I ❤️ DILFS”. You truly did not understand how Giselle managed to be a caricature of herself time after time.
“You need to wear protection, he’s in a frat, right?” she shrugged. You glared at her. “I’m not bringing a condom.”
“Alright, I guess,-” Giselle pretended to think, “I guess, you’ll just have to get chlamydia.”
You stared at her for a moment, bristling. Then you snatched it out of her outstretched hand.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“You’re a prude.”
“Goodbye, Giselle!”
The condom slipped into your tote with ease to lay snug with all your other items and then you were out the door and heading towards Seokmin’s frat house. The sun was dulled by a few clouds, but it was still shining. Leaves were turning brown and red and yellow and were falling from trees to crunch underfoot - everything was lovely.
But the expanse, in your head, was much different. In your head you were traveling the soft dunes of a desert, spotting in the brown and red and yellow horizon a cleft in the sand. When you reached it, wide and long, seemingly endless to each side of you, you were standing right in front of Seokmin’s house.
You weren’t sure how long you stood there, knuckles white where you grasped your tote, and eyes big and heart pounding. What if Giselle was right? Did you want her to be right? Would you even be able to please him if she was? Half-heartedly you tried to push away the images of Seokmin pushing into you, arms flexing on either side of your head, that spawned alongside the thought. Maybe you straddling him, his hands on your ass, his head buried in your chest, or-
“Y/N!”
You jumped, clutching your bag tight, when you snapped your head up to the voice. It was Seokmin and he was waving at you from his upstairs-window, smiling so brightly you swore the sun reflected off of his teeth.
“What are you standing there for, come inside! Door’s unlocked!” he yelled, body disappearing in the window. You stared at the window for a moment, his presence now absent, before you nodded to yourself in reassurance. You could do this, right? Just Mario Kart and small talk.
Truth was, you couldn’t do this. Not even in the slightest. You and Seokmin sat cross-legged on his bed, TV on the wall before it, drinking soda and crunching on chips. Seokmin was drenched in a green, fuzzy sweater, collarbones peeking over the rounded neck, and fingers peeking through the sleeves, where he held his controller, and God forbid, his hair was all soft and fluffy, and he was wearing fucking puppy socks.
And he was competitive, too. He was leaned forward, eyes narrowed as he sped through the course. You huffed when he blue-shelled you, and you tried to refocus.
“I thought you said you were good?” he teased, eyes leaving the screen for only a second to look at you - you, dress bunched up to your thighs and tongue peeking through your pretty, subtly red lips. A second was all that was necessary.
Suddenly, his character (baby Daisy) swerved off-course, falling into the pit below and he screeched, seemingly genuinely sad, as your character (Toadette) overtook him, the little gold badge popping up in the corner to tell you that you were number one.
“What were you saying?” you giggled cockily when you finished the last round, Seokmin unable to quite catch up to you in the last stretch. He threw himself back on the bed in defeat, groaning into his hand.
“I can’t believe I let you win,” he cried.
“Let me?” you repeated in disbelief. You scoffed and put down the controller, pretending that Seokmin lying all angelic on his bed sheets wasn’t making your stomach pinch with static. “Pretty sure that was just pure skill on my part. Don’t blame me because you’re bad at Mario Kart.”
A blow to his talents in Mario Kart was a blow to him. He snapped his head up to look at you, playfully angry. “Oh, oh wow, really? I’m bad at Mario Kart now?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, smiling cheekily at him. Seokmin studied you for a moment, before he shuffled into a sitting position. His gaze almost made you shy. Did he want to kiss you as much as you wanted to kiss him?
Seokmin shuffled closer to you and you almost stopped breathing: “Don’t I remember you being ticklish?”
You were almost so caught up in your fantasy to realize what he said. Your eyes widened in realization and you most immediately tried to twist your body away: a punishment was upon you.
“No- NO!-” You cried out but it was too late. Seokmin wrestled his body into yours, fingers dancing and prodding into your sides. Drowning in laughter, your face twisted into tortured pleasure, as you tried to bat his hands away. Your attempts were futile - each time you shuffled away, he followed right with you, fingers unrelenting as your torso twisted and turned.
"Hehehehehehe- NO, PLEASE!- hehehehehehe!”
Your knees pushed with all their might and you were almost able to drag yourself to the edge of the bed. There, you could gain distance and talk him down from beyond his desk. But Seokmin was smart. He sensed your escape plan when you squirmed away, and without much thought, he pulled his body on top of yours, weight pinning you down.
You were still giggling and squirming, when his fingers finally let up. You were both panting from the excitement, Seokmin smiling down at you adoringly. Then, both of your smiles dropped.
It was like it took a few moments to realize; he was straddling you. Hips pushed into yours, all his weight rested on your crotch - your crotch, which was now pulsating. To make matters worse, the skirt of your dress had ridden up and most of your plush thighs were now visible to him, and your chest was halfway out of your dress, and your cheeks were flushed and your hair was spread out on the sheets beneath you. Seokmin seemed unsure of where to put his hands, while you both stared at each other, breathing in the thick, heavy silence.
“I’m sorry-”
“It’s okay, I-”
“I really- I don’t know what-”
“Don’t worry-”
You were pulling down your dress again, cheeks literally flaming red and bottom lip caught between your teeth. Silence swallowed you both whole.
You wanted him back on your hips so bad. It hurt. You were aching in quick pulses, but you couldn’t even look at him. Surely, you thought, surely, he’d seen that look on your face, how your eyes clouded over with lust. Maybe he felt disgusted.
“I better-” you hiccupped, voice small, “I better go.”
Seokmin, eyes peeking at you through his lashes, feared he made you uncomfortable.
“Yeah, of course,” he mumbled.
You gathered your things and ran out of there, wetness gushing out of you. You tried to run, tried to create distance, but this time, in your mind’s eye, you ran in place, staying completely still by the cleft separating you and Seokmin. You fiddled with the edge, sand cascading into the empty, endless dark.
There was no way you could make that jump.
That night you wished Giselle was by your side. You wrote an assignment, trying to ward off the embarrassment that stormed in your brain, when you got a message, that plunged you into rock bottom:
Lee Seokmin: hey you forgot smth at my house lol
Lee Seokmin: *Image Attached*
This was it. You were going to jump off a bridge (or a cleft in a dry, sandy wasteland).
As if your life couldn’t get anymore embarrassing: it was the condom. The white condom with “I ❤️ DILFS” on it. You damned that woman for ever making you bring it. What must he have thought of you? His best friend’s little sister trying to get in his pants? Your cheeks were burning and you threw your head into your pillow and screeched. Your life was over. It had simply ended now. There was no coming back from this. You huffed and removed yourself from its plushness.
Maybe you could salvage it? Thinking on your feet, you replied:
You: OMG i’m so sorry!!!! i think that’s my roommate’s, she must’ve put it in my bag… :/
You: I’ll come pick it up ASAP :((((
You stared at your phone at the blatant. It was not a far stretch from the truth, but being caught with your hand in the cookie jar - or maybe more so the I ❤️ DILFS condom in your tote bag - it seemed like an irrationally shitty cover up.
You gnawed at your lip when the three dots popped up next to his picture, and bit it to pieces waiting for his reply. You almost jumped when your phone buzzed:
Lee Seokmin: hahahahaha
Lee Seokmin: you can come pick it up tomorrow if u want? theres no rush
You glared at the message. Laughter? Surely he hadn’t bought it. He was just trying to be nice, just trying to avoid you any embarrassment. The thought made you wanna throw up, how he felt this obligation to be nice to you when you had permanently scarred him (were you being dramatic?).
You: ok. im rlly sorry again!! i’ll pick it up tomorrow
_____________________________
Tomorrow came much faster than you had hoped. No amount of tossing and turning could slow down the passage of time, and by the time you received Seokmin’s promised “I’m awake”-message, the embarrassment hadn’t faded one bit.
Every discouraged moment of getting ready was haunted by your current situation, and you stopped to cringe every five seconds, causing an honest and diligent self-hatred to bubble within you. When you knocked on Seokmin’s door, you’d honestly never felt less confident in your life.
“Y/n!” he said enthusiastically.
“Seokmin,” you said, less enthusiastic.
He smiled at you sweetly, almost as sympathetically, before stepping aside. You furrowed your brow, not really understanding why he couldn’t just hand it to you at the door, but stepping inside nonetheless. “It’s in my room,” he offered, but could he not just have brought it with him? Did he have to prolong the shame even further? You followed him to his room.
In that moment you hated Seokmin for being who he was; for being sweet, gentle, caring, and gentlemanly. You would feel less pathetic if he yelled at you, if he was genuinely disgusted and wanted nothing to do with you. But there he was all smiling and supportive, and he wasn’t touching you at all, but he still felt like pillars on your back, soothing you and holding you up.
“It was your roommate’s?” he asked absently as you traversed the halls. “Uh, yeah,” you answered sheepishly.
“I can tell,” he threw his head back to you, and there was a huge grin on his face. A little bit of hope blossomed in your chest. “Yeah, I saw her at that party, you know? I think she slept with, uh, my friend, Minghao.”
“That’ll be her,” you were smiling now too, and a huge wave of relief washed over you, as he at least let you believe that he thought it wasn’t your perversion bringing along that condom.
Finally stumbling into his room, he did indeed pick it up from his desk, handing it back to you. You looked at it in his outstretched hand and blushed sheepishly. “Thanks,” you squeaked.
Seokmin nodded in response. For a moment the two of you stood, uncertain of what to do and caught in the web of a terribly awkward silence. Seokmin’s eyes darted to the window and yours to the floor.
“Hey, uh,” he giggled a little, scratching the back of his head. “I feel really bad for losing that Mario Kart game-”
You scoffed in response, but the facade of being peeved was falling apart, as you beamed up at him.
“Maybe we could do, like, a quick rematch?”
You shrugged, trying to be nonchalant with an ever-heavy flush in your cheeks: “I don’t back away from a challenge.”
Seokmin won the rematch. This only spurred on another rematch, and suddenly there was no end to the madness. This time there was no awkwardness, no lingering silences. You were just giggling and strategizing, and throwing heat in the direction of your opponents.
That uncomfortable, clamoring feeling left you, slowly. It became easy to forget it. That feeling that he was only there with you because of Vernon, that there was always some sort of demand, a twisting hand, forcing him upon you, and that you became a sort of burden on him. That was the thing about Seokmin, though, his ability to make you feel like his best friend; his ability to make him feel like he was there for you, even when he wasn’t.
It was only after an hour and a half or so, when Seokmin paused the game.
“What the hell, Lee? I was just about to beat you!” you whined, crossing your arms. He nodded along, pushing himself off the bed. “Yes, I agree, which is why I’ve assessed that I need a refreshment.”
“Oh, you’ve assessed?”
“Yeah, I’ve assessed that I need a fresh, cooling drink in my gullet.”
You both laughed a little and slumped back, dropping the controller. Seokmin smiled at you, eyes twinkling. “You want one?”
“What are you getting?”
“A beer,” Seokmin said. Rationally, you knew you shouldn’t accept. You were bad with alcohol, and everytime you drank just a little, a little easily became a lot. That was why you took yourself by surprise when your voice left your mouth, chipper and grand: “Sure!”
One beer turned into another, and Mario Kart turned into talking on his bed, slumped into his fortress of pillows and giggling at his stories. You were a little tipsy, halfway into your second beer and your face was flushed and Seokmin was lying on his side, hand propped up under his head, as he made you laugh again.
“Your kind of partying sounds… Extreme,” you murmured, rim of the bottle pushed against your lips where your words slightly slurred. Mario Kart and alcohol had gotten you a little out of your shell, and now you and Seomin were talking like friends - as if your brother didn’t even exist. You basked in the alcoholic buzz and in this reality, this hideout, where your lovely brother didn’t exist and the faint ache in your legs at Seokmin’s godly face in the bedside lamp wasn’t so utterly misplaced.
“I think anything’s more extreme than your partying,” Seokmin mused teasingly. You huffed, putting down your beer and smoothing over your skirt. Everything was so lovely and artificially yellow and his body beside yours radiated pleasant heat. He was beautiful, you thought, looking at how the sweaters pooled on his torso and how his brown hair looked so soft and messy. You almost felt the absence of ground beneath you, when you imagined yourself at the cleft again.
“You don’t know about my kind of partying,” you joked and he chuckled softly. “You’re right, I shouldn’t make assumptions.”
You looked at him and he was suddenly serious. The smiley, gooey Seokmin was gone and his eyes, although not threatening at all, were prodding at you. Your smile fell. The alcohol at this time felt misplaced and wrong, the lightness felt wrong.
“Were you gonna, you know, go with Jeonghan at the party?” he whispered. The world was suddenly very quiet, as if it were following Seokmin’s tact. You grimaced a little. “No. No, not really.”
He studied you. You couldn’t bear to meet his eyes, opting to look at your hands in your lap. “Why not?”
A pause.
You began to pick at your own fingertips, nails digging into the cuticles. Seokmin’s eyes dragged from your face to your hands, and he scooted closer to you, only to cover your hand with his, stopping your movements immediately. Suddenly so close, his voice was whispered right in your ear, so soft and so gentle, it felt like a kiss: “Don’t do that.”
You sucked in a breath, hands ripping to your sides to lay stiff. “I’m, uh, I’m not that experienced, so I..”
Your eyes flicked up to gauge his reaction. In your worst nightmares, you imagined a laugh breaking onto his face, maybe disgust, but you felt yourself melting. He looked at you so softly, like you were the most precious, fragile thing and his hand had stilled in the air after you pushed it off, as if, like the most enchanting artwork at a museum, he fought desperately not to reach out and touch you.
It was unbearable - how still the air had become, how heavy you felt, how your chest struggled to expand. You talked again, if only to fill the air with your babbling: “I’ve not had.. I mean, I can hardly get myself off… So. I probably. Couldn’t. Get him off.”
You realized about halfway through your sentence that you should not have said that. That last half of your sentence was a breathy mess, as your voice became shaky with humiliation. His gaze, a delicate constant, was not helping either. You felt tears welling up in your eyes suddenly and maybe that was the worst part.
“You have trouble getting yourself off?” he repeated, as if to make sure. “Like masturba-”
“Yeah, that,” you squeezed your eyes shut. You couldn’t tell if you wanted him to shut up forever, so you’d never have to know his reaction, or if you wanted him to talk and be able to sense how this information changed his perception of you. His voice came, in spite of whatever you had hoped.
“I figured you were a virgin,” he mumbled, voice half muted by the palm of his hand, “but I thought you at least masturbated-”
“I do!” you defended yourself, voice much louder than his and brows furrowing and tears threatening to spill over your eyes. “I’m just- I’m not that good at it.”
“Hey,” he said softly, hand landing on your arm. You immediately shut up, lip trembling when you struggled to meet his eyes. “Relax, Y/n. It’s okay. I’m not judging you.”
You nodded half-heartedly, still incredibly uneasy.
“If you want…” Seokmin’s voice trailed off. His eyes ventured over your form briefly, licking his lips. “You know, if you want, I could teach you.”
You looked at him silently. He seemed to snap out of whatever loopy trance he had been sucked into, because he was suddenly very jittery and scrambling through the bedsheets. “Uh, I mean- you don’t- God, I’m sorry- it was only if-”
“Yes,” you said. His scrambling stilled immediately. His eyes were teacups.
“You sure?”
You nodded, not trusting your own voice.
Seokmin squeezed his eyes shut, gulping as he sat back against the bed. His legs spread apart. “Come here,” he patted his thighs.
You felt terribly sober. All that buzz and butterflies and blaze and blossom was gone and you felt like a doll, moving each limb individually, as you climbed into his lap, back to him. You were unable to think, unable to truly process what was happening, what it meant, as you felt his form engulf yours.
His hands found purchase on your hips and his breath was warm on your neck, as you felt every ridge of his abdomen on your back. His thumbs rubbed against your hip bone.
“Okay, now show me how you usually do it,” his voice was a warm hum, a twinge of nervousness laced in it. Your face was lit ablaze and you squirmed in his hold, when one hand left your hip to gently push your legs apart. You sat, all open and held against him, dress keeping you covered.
“It’s embarrassing,” you huffed, being very serious, but Seokmin smiled and nosed your hair gently.
“We can stop whenever you want, seriously, if you get uncomfortable, we stop” he reassured.
“It’s just me.”
It was. It was just Seokmin, your brothers best friend, the sweetest boy in the world, who used to have a swanky bowl cut and dorky school uniform and who was always Vernon’s most respectful friend, but he was hot and whispering into your ear and one hand was massaging the outside of your thigh.
“Should I take my dress off?” you breathed, face turned halfway back to him. His hands squeezed at you in response and you could faintly make out his tongue sliding over his lips.
“Only if you want, angel,” he whispered back, rubbing your sides tenderly. “We’re not doing anything you don’t want. Whatever makes you feel good. ‘M just here to help.”
You nodded, and although the answer was maybe made to make you keep your dress on - a reassurance that there was no need to discard it - you removed yourself from his grasp, hands coming to tug your dress off. You felt a small boost of confidence when you heard Seokmin breathe out: “Shit.”
Only in your bra and panties (terribly mismatched, your bra was black and your panties were pink), you leaned back into his hold, and you noted how Seokmin’s warm hands were much more careful now, splaying out on your bare skin.
“Are you comfortable now?” he asked quietly. You nodded. He propped his head up on your shoulder, eyes cast down your almost-nude body, chest rising and falling. Your legs were closed again, he noticed, and his veiny hand reached down to open them again. “Show me how you do it, baby, so I can help you improve.”
You gummed your lip, breathing in one last time, before your nervous fingers began dancing their way to your panties. They disappeared under the fabric for only a moment, before Seokmin spoke again.
“Sweetheart,” he tutted, hand wrapping around your wrist to stop its track. “Don’t just dive right in, you need to get yourself all hot first.”
Your brows furrowed and some of the embarrassment you felt from being this exposed and pressed into Seokmin evaporated into genuine confusion.
“What? What do you mean?” you said, somewhat outraged, and Seokmin couldn’t help the laughter blooming in his chest at that. He vibrated against your back, hands smoothing down your arm. You pouted: “Don’t laugh at me, Minnie.”
He stopped, still smiling as he nosed your temple. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your head, that had your heart beating out of your chest. “You’re just so cute.”
Cute. You remembered your disdain for that word, but somehow, when it came from his lips, it made you beam. Everywhere he touched left behind a hot, burning ghost on your skin.
“You just have to touch your body, sweetheart,” he said sweetly. You thrashed in defiance, crying out quietly with red cheeks. Wiggling your body angrily, you felt his dick half-hard in his pants against your lower back.
“Can’t you do it?” you whined, wanting nothing more than for him to take over and make you feel good. He sucked in a harsh breath behind you, fingers wrapping around your hands to soothe you still. He seemed to debate your proposal, but eventually he kissed your shoulder and spoke: “Okay, baby, but you have to show me you understand, alright?” you nodded feverishly. “We’re trying to get you to learn.”
The whole thing had you dizzy, warm and gooey in his hands, and grounding yourself on his solid torso. You had tunnel vision, unable to focus on anything but his warm hands and sweet voice, and how fucking hard he was. You leaned your head up to look at him pleadingly. Even upside-down he was pretty. He giggled at your starstruck expression.
“Look at my hands, pretty,” he tapped your nose and you scrunched it, turning down to your own body, where he sat his hands on your waist. “You do it like this.”
His hands started dragging over your skin, creating constellations of ghosts on your skin. One dragged across your stomach and down your leg, squeezing it along the way, and the other brushed over your bra-covered chest, landing on your shoulder and collarbones. Then they moved oppositely, then diverged from their chosen paths, and you started breathing heavily. Pressure built up in your stomach and your panties, and you felt how slick started leaking out of you.
“Feel good?” Seokmin grinned against your neck, listening to the melody of your panted gasps. You nodded earnestly, moaning softly. Seokmin furrowed his brows at that noise, pressing kisses to your neck appreciatively. “Good girl. Such pretty sounds.”
Both of Seokmin’s hands dragged up to your ribs. There, they paused. “Can I touch your chest, baby?”
“Please,” you whimpered, and earned another sloppy kiss to the cheek. His hands immediately grabbed ahold of your chest, softly rubbing it over your bra.
“Does that feel good?” he whispered. You hesitated for a moment. “Um, I don’t feel much, honestly.”
You’d expect him to be a little angry or defensive, but Seokmin only hummed and nustled himself into your hair. “Good girl. Good girl, being so honest with me. So pretty.”
You whined at his praise and Seokmin smiled smugly, taking notice of how heated you got from his words.
“The- the fabric is in the way..” you whimpered meekly, and Seokmin nodded in understanding, stroking your sides soothingly.
“You want to take off your bra?” he hummed, truly as if it would not expose you to him, as if it weren’t a lewd and depraved scenario, but something as simple as the weather. You nodded, removing yourself from the harbor of his arms once more to remove it. You unclipped it and threw it God knows where, before settling back into him. Seokmin peeked over your shoulder at your now bare breasts, groaning a little and covering it up with a cough. This was about you.
Seokmin placed his hands on your tits again, massaging and rubbing the soft skin, before he brushed his thumbs over your hardened nipples.
You moaned - for the first time it was a clear moan, seething from your throat and puffing into the air. “Sound so pretty,” he muttered in your ear. “You really like that, hm?”
He pinched your nipples between his fingers, your back arching into his warm hands. Then, as soon as the pleasure had begun, it stopped, when his hands came to rest on the bed. You whined, twisting your head towards his, only to be stopped by fingers on your chin, turning you back forward. “Show me you can do it now, baby. You’re learning,” he reminded you.
“But, Minnie, I want your hands,” you whined and he tutted softly in your ear. “I know, baby, but I need to know that you’re understanding this in that pretty little head of yours. Need to know you’re focusing. Come on, show me now.”
Huffing, you placed your own hands (they somehow felt more foreign than his now) on your stomach and began to mimic his movements. You smoothed them up and down on your body, squeezing, then placed them on your chest, rubbing and pinching your nipples.
“There you go,” he praised, and his hands had traveled to your shoulders, massaging them gently. You whimpered and turned your head to him again.
“Can you teach me how to touch my…” you trailed off.
“Your pussy?” he offered, as if it was nothing, as if it wasn’t vulgar or lewd. You nodded vigorously. Feeling him gulp a little, his hands became a little unsteady as they came to hold your waist again. “Can I hear you say it? Baby?” he asked and suddenly his voice was a little shaky, a little breathless.
“Can you touch my pussy now, Minnie?” you asked, and any shame had been clouded over with lust. You’d never been this burningly bothered in your life, you needed him to touch you. He groaned, and this time he was unable to cover it up. You felt how his hard cock strained against his sweatpants, how it pressed into your back, and you wanted to touch it so bad.
“Alright, baby, want your panties off?” His sharp nose was pressed into your hair. You shook your head. “Want them on.”
He nodded. “Alright, jus’ tell me if you wanna stop, okay? I’m gonna touch you now.”
His hand slipped under the waistband of your panties, disappearing under the pink fabric. As if they were always meant to be there, his fingers slipped through your folds, coming down to circle your slit in impossibly light figurations.
“Shit,” he panted, grip on your waist suddenly bruising, as he tried to steady himself. “You’re so wet, baby, you like Seokminnie that much?”
“Yeah, I do,” you nodded blindly, your own hands coming to grip onto his thighs. His middle finger danced upwards and pressed against your clit, and you immediately squeaked and shut your legs around his hand.
“No, no, baby, don’t do that,” he frowned, hand that wasn’t buried in your pussy spreading your legs again. You felt how his legs, pressed against you, came to hook onto yours, forcing your legs apart with his own strength. He hummed in content.
His finger pressed onto your clit again, and he felt how your legs tensed, straining against his to close. Your back arched and you moaned, eyes squeezed shut. He began rubbing it, and it was so intimate, how close you were to him, how his hand navigated your sopping wet pussy, fingers just rubbing you gently, and how bare you were, his eyes training over your bouncing tits when you thrashed.
His fingers moved downwards again, gathering the wetness that was gushing out of you. Then, one long middle finger pushed into you. Canting into his hand, you moaned loudly and turned your head into his neck. Nosing the tan skin and inhaling his faint cologne, you began mindlessly kitten-licking the skin. His Adam's apple bopped under your tongue.
“You’re so tight,” he rasped, beginning to slowly push his finger in and out of you. His other hand had come to wrap around your waist in an attempt to calm the sudden bucking of your hips against his hand.
His hand moved faster, obscene, wet sounds coming from your ruined underwear, where he worked diligently into your pussy. He slipped another finger in, and you cried from the stretch. It was becoming hard to contain you, thrashing and writhing against his hold, stuck between wanting to move closer and to move away entirely. His fingers tied a knot in your stomach.
“That’s right, pretty, tell me how good Minnie’s fingers feel,” he whispered hoarsely above your ear. You could almost only whine and moan, nipping at his neck a little. “Tell me or I’ll stop,” he warned.
“Feels so good!” you whined immediately, because if he stopped now, you figured you might start crying. “Feel so, so, so good, fuck, Seokmin, I’m-”
“I know, baby, I know, but I’m teaching you, right?”
Though your mind was fuzzy, you sensed what these words meant and panicked, hand coming down to grip his wrist in an attempt to hold him in place. “Please, please, please, Seokmin, don’t stop, please, don’t stop!”
“Don’t talk back to me, sweetheart. I won’t stop, just talk to me. Tell me what you feel me doing,” pushing your head up again, Seokmin pressed his face against your cheek, so hard, you felt his humid pants against it.
Your mind was so hazy, so transfixed on the feeling in your stomach and his finger in your pussy, you could hardly respond.
“Tell me or I’ll stop, baby,” he reminded you again, and you scrambled frantically to focus.
“Nngh! You’re- pushing in and out-” your voice broke, hips stuttering against his hand, that was continuing its remorseless pace.
“Yeah, and?”
You furrowed your brows, lips trembling. “You’re- you’re curling them- A-ah!”
“That’s right. Such a good girl. So smart and clever for me,” Seokmin whispered happily, his other hand slipping down your stomach to circle your clit. Both his hands working pleasure into your pussy, you cried out loudly, head pushed back into his chest.
“Just let go, baby, I can feel you clenching on me so hard. Wan’ me to stay in your pussy forever, hm? Just let go, cum whenever you want, wanna see your pretty face so bad,” somehow Seokmin was just as intoxicated off of lust as you, despite staying, hard and untouched, in his pants. But he babbled mindless praise to you, and you came to his sweet voice whispering in your ear.
Your orgasm sent you hurdling over the edge - the edge, the one you’d been standing at hopelessly for years. You flew across it and landed on Seokmin’s territory; in his arms.
“Seokmin, a-ah!” you cried, releasing all over his fingers, coating them in your cum. Your entire body arched upwards, as you moaned into the night. Seokmin rode you through your high, pressing sweet kisses into your hair.
You fell limp against his body, worn out, when he finally retracted his fingers from your pussy. You snuggled into his sweater with a content hum.
Seokmin smiled down at you, eyes brimming with fondness, as his cum-slicked hands wrapped around your torso in a hug, holding you into him. “You did so well,” he whispered genuinely.
You looked up at him with a tired smile. “Thank you, Seokmin.”
He held himself back from saying he would do that a thousand times over, in fact, he wouldn’t mind never pulling out - he could live with only one hand. Instead, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and whispered: “Of course, darling.”
Your brows furrowed and you pulled yourself away from him a little, eyeing the tent in his pants worriedly. “Do you want me to-”
“No,” he shook his head decidedly. “No, I’ll take care of it.”
You looked at him with big, innocent eyes, that only furthered the throbbing of his cock. Partially, he wanted to give in so badly. The thought of your hand around his cock, all pouty and innocent and confused, and how heavy it would be in your small hand, had made him cum more times than he’d like to admit. But, he reminded himself, this was about you. This was a favor. “Are you sure?” you asked softly.
“Yes, baby, go to bed. I’m gonna go get you some fresh clothes.”
You snuggled into bed while Seokmin scurried away to fetch a shirt and some boxers, and when he came back you cooperated limply in taking off your panties, and putting on what he’d given you. You fell asleep in his bed, cuddling his duvet, and surrounded by his scent.
Seokmin watched you in adoration. How peaceful you looked, chest rising and falling, and a little pout on your lips.
He wandered through the house, trying simultaneously to get as far from you as possible, and also trying to decide which of his housemates he currently hated the most. He landed on Jeonghan, slipping into his empty room and settling himself on the bed.
There, he fisted his solid fucking cock and bucked into his own hand, eyes squeezed shut to remember how you looked under his hands, how you begged for him, how well you listened, what a good girl you were for him. His moans were trembling and muffled by his own hand, and when he came, he felt momentarily smug, looking at how it dripped over Jeonghan’s sheets (served him right). Then, post-nut clarity sank in, as he reentered his own room and cuddled into you on the bed.
He felt almost despicable. He felt gross and evil and perverted and lewd, not because of you, but because, as if it were his first time realizing it, he remembered that you were Vernon’s sister. He remembered that he had promised to protect you from manipulative guys and always watch over you, and help you if you needed help, and report to Vernon if you were acting weird. Yet here he was, letting you cum on his hand and groping your tits, as if he was still that teenage boy with that swanky bowl cut.
After an hour of chewing on his lips and frowning, Seokmin let your sweet perfume lull him to sleep. He dreamt of you.
_____________________________
There’s a blissful instant that morning when you wake up, curled into Seokmin’s arms, head nuzzled in his chest. There’s a blissful instant when you tilt your head, staring at his sleeping face, and he’s so beautiful, features all soft and breathing rhythmically. There’s a blissful instant where you see him, and your heart weeps in your chest because he’s so gorgeous.
Then it’s gone.
A panic button is pressed in your head, and your nerve-endings, each one resting on him, begin burning. What had you done? Yesterday feels like a faraway dream, but he’s still wearing that sweater and it grounds you in the reality of what had happened.
You’re lost. What did this mean for the two of you? Was Seokmin just lusting after you? But that couldn’t be right, you thought, because he’d insisted on only helping you, refused your offers to help him, which now was making you rot in his arms with guilt. Was this genuinely an attempt to help you? To be diligently by your side at the request of your brother? But surely this had been outside of the realm of what was acceptable to help your best friend’s baby sister with? Did that mean he liked you?
Seokmin awakened from your sudden squirming, as if, with enough shaking and turning, that feelings and thoughts would just fall out of you. They didn’t, they stayed right where they were, and all you were given in return was Seokmin’s eyes fluttering open.
You watched him go through that same process; the bliss came first and then the panic. Seokmin’s eyes went from adoring to wide and grave and suddenly he was shuffling away from you on the bed, creating a cool distance between you on the landscape of his mattress. You didn’t miss the pink dusting his cheeks.
“Uh- good morning,” he mumbled, and he could only look at his hands. Your throat was unbelievably dry. “Morning.”
You’re not sure how you both managed, but you went through that morning without mentioning the previous night even once. The air was thick with tension, fleeting glances, and shaky hands, while Seokmin made you both bowls of oatmeal. You stood on the other side of the counter in his shirt and his boxers.
You ate in his bed. It was silent and heavy and each clink of spoons against the bowl-rims had you both wincing. He put on a TV-show and you sat across from one another, chewing wordlessly to some drama in the background. Your belly was pooling with tension and light cascaded onto you, revealing your pores and flaws. Were you a bad person?
Finally, finally, Seokmin put down his spoon with yet another clink, fingers catching the bridge of his nose and eyes squeezing shut. He huffed into the palm of his hand, swallowing the oatmeal hard.
“Uh-” he began and his voice cracked, “Y/n. About last night-”
But you cut him off, and he couldn’t ever, even in his wildest dreams, have imagined that these words would come out of your mouth:
“I want to return the favor.”
The words were almost spat and discarded, as if they’d been sitting on the tip of your tongue all morning with a foul taste, and you’d only now been able to rid yourself of it. Seokmin snapped his head towards you, a genuine surprise on his face, but he soon wished he hadn’t looked at all.
You were so pretty, sitting cross legged in his shirt and a blush creeping up your neck and cheeks all shiny in the morning sun. And there was this innocence to your eyes, big lashes shadowing it only a little; this earnestness that told him you really, really wanted to do this for him.
“I-” he chuckled a little, heart clenching at your sweetness, “I can’t ask you to do that.”
“Well, it’s good that I’m asking you then,” you said, and though the comment was witty, when Seokmin looked at you again, he saw how careful you looked, and how unsure you were of yourself.
“Listen, N/n,” he reached out to grab your hand, and it was burning into yours, each area of adjoined skin screaming at you with reminders of last night. “You don’t have to do that. I just wanted to make you feel good, I was happy to just be of service to you-”
“But I want to make you feel good,” you pouted, almost brattily. Seokmin’s gentle expression and tone faded into something darker, as his eyes flitted down to your exposed legs and your heaving chest. He swallowed, putting away his bowl of oatmeal and collecting himself.
“Are you sure? You need to be absolutely 100% sure-”
“I’m sure, Minnie. I want to-” you broke off your own words with a squeak, face becoming bright red. You leaned in self-consciously, as if to tell him a secret: “I want to suck your dick.”
Your whispered admittance had him groaning, groaning at how sweet and innocent your voice was, how you couldn’t even say it loudly, you had to whisper the dirty word to him. He wanted you so badly, wanted to be the one to take away your innocence, to make you all dirty and beg for him, to make you thrash and whine and to teach you how to really feel good. He wanted you.
It’s like a switch had flipped, when Seokmin put his hand on the back of your head, and suddenly you were kissing again. The tension from before was replaced with something wholly different, something hot, something laced in the eye contact he gave you, before he leaned it again.
And Seokmin was kissing you with a fervor that you recognized from yourself - you both wanted to forget. Wanted to forget Vernon, who, although a great brother and friend, had become a heavy strain on your relationship with Seokmin. So you kissed him and let his tongue in your mouth when it swiped over your bottom lip, and you sucked on it, and you let him and yourself get lost in each other.
The sound of smacking lips and saliva was so lewd too, especially when Seokmin’s hand pulled you from your spot on the bed and into his lap, hands roaming your body, while you tangled into his hair. He was half-moaning into your mouth by the time he pulled away, face flushed and eyes darker and lower and lips swollen red.
“You gonna let me use that pretty mouth, baby?” he whispered against your lips, one hand palming over his cock through his boxers. You nodded, almost desperately, one hand reaching out to his in his lap. “Can I touch it?”
Seokmin smiled fondly, looking down at where your small hand was outstretched towards his cock. “Yeah, baby, go ahead.”
You were a bit clumsy at first, but soon enough you found its outline in his black boxers and you squeezed it a little. Seokmin crooked over, groaning into your shoulder. You felt him get harder and harder against your palm, a small smile at the desperate noises he was making.
Seokmin had laid his cheek on your shoulder, neck twisting to stare up at you, while you focused solely on touching him, and he hated himself for getting even harder because it was you - you, who he had wanted for so long, who he was hugged into and lying on, while you touched his warm cock.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, breathing heavily, and then smiling brightly when you became all sheepish, smiling and looking away, so that you had to pause your actions. He nosed into your neck, regaining some semblance of control over the situation, now that you weren’t touching him, and his breath was warm and humid on your skin. He pressed small kisses up to your jawline, nose flattening against you.
“So, so pretty. Fuck, imagining you with my cock in your mouth, all drooling and shit. Fuck, baby, you gonna let me fuck your mouth?” he rambled, hands finding home on your tits again. You whined and nodded, trying to pry him off of you. Immediately (forever struggling with a little concern that you might’ve changed your mind) he pulls away, looking up at you worriedly.
“Don’t- don’t touch me, I don’t wanna get.. All hot,” you whispered those words that he had said last night, biting your lip in worry. “I want to do it now.”
Seokmin melted completely, and in a complete inability to contain his adoration, brushed hair out of your face and pressed a million kisses to your cheeks and your nose. “Okay,” he said in between kisses, and you felt his smile on your skin, “okay, baby. But if it gets too much, tap my thigh three times, okay? If you need anything, if you feel uncomfortable.”
“Yes, yes,” you huffed, pushing yourself away from him and hopping onto the floor, sinking to your knees before the bed.
It felt completely unreal - to both of you. How you were suddenly on your knees and how he settled in front of you, bare, thick thighs on either side of your head. Everything was all light and all the places he’d kissed and touched had become holy and glowing on your body. He shimmed his boxers off and you gaped at the sudden exposure of his dick.
He was hard. Apparently the kissing and groping had been enough, because it slapped against his sweater, leaking silky white liquid from the tip. And he was big - you didn’t exactly have a good point of reference, but you vaguely sensed from Giselle’s words that this was quite a feat.
And actually seeing it brought a wave of uncertainty on you, not as to whether or not you wanted to do it, but how. So, you blinked up at him with a small frown, voice small when you spoke: “Seokmin.. How- how do I do it?”
Seokmin practically glowed with adoration, when he petted your head and rubbed your cheek, seemingly so comfortable despite being totally bare. “You just put your lips around it and suck, baby, it’s easy,” he said softly, then added, a little panicked: “And be mindful of your teeth.”
“But it’s so big,” you marveled, eyes trained on it, and he almost groaned at it, because you sounded so genuinely amazed, so disbelieving.
“Just put your hands around the parts you can’t reach. I’ll be gentle, baby, don’t worry,” he said. You nodded hesitantly, leaning forward towards it, but his hand in your hair suddenly clenched and pulled you back. You looked up at him and saw his eyes brimming with worry. “You do want this, right?”
“Yes, please, stop being so- so gentle with me and let me suck your dick!” You whined, fed up with being treated like glass, and tugged his hand out of your hair. Seokmin visibly relaxed at your insistence, nodding.
Finally, fingers grabbing the base of it, you wrapped your mouth around the tip. You were met immediately with the taste of his pre-cum, licking over where it leaked curiously. Seokmin’s hand found your hair again, gripping it tight to steady himself, as he groaned loudly. You slowly sank down, basking in the whimpers you ripped from his mouth.
“Fuck- you’re- you’re doing so good, baby,” he cried, face twisted in pleasure and head thrown back. You looked up at him and he was so pretty and glowing, panting into the air.
You sank down as far as you could, feeling the tip sit snug against the back of your mouth, and your hands wrapped around the base of his dick. You looked up at him, experimentally squeezing, and pursing your lips around his dick to suck it carefully.
“A-ah! Fuck!” Seokmin cried, hand that wasn’t in your hair squeezing the edge of his mattress. His thighs were flexing on either side of your head. “You’re- you’re so good at this, sweetheart. Good girl, fuck, such a pretty girl for me, letting me use you like this.”
You whined at his words, squeezing your thighs together. Seokmin’s hips bucked upwards at the vibrations, hitting the back of your throat. The sudden intrusion was unexpected and you let out a garbled moan around his cock. He panted regretfully: “S-Sorry, baby, d-didn’t mean to do that, you just feel so good. Can- can you bob your head up and down it for me?”
You did, started moving your head up and down his shaft, and breathing hard through your nose, while your hands squeezed the base of his cock. Looking up at Seokmin, you felt confidence that you were doing something right. He was in heaven, face all scrunched up and breathing as if he’d just ran a marathon.
And when he peeked his down to you, he could’ve cum immediately. Your pretty lips wrapped around his cock, head bopping with tears in your eyes from the pressure in your throat, and how curious and sparkling they were, gauging his reaction. The groan that clawed its way up from his heart, through his throat and out into his room quickly turned to a whimper.
“I’m- I’m gonna cum, sweet pea, can I-” he swallowed hard, because even the thought had him close to release. “Can I cum down your throat, pretty?”
You nodded, a little too preoccupied to answer, but Seokmin got it, and with just a couple more bobs, and the feeling of your wet tongue pressing against the underside of his cock, he spurted into your mouth in long ropes of white, whining at the top of his lungs, and pulling hair from the roots.
It was, admittedly, a little gross and sticky in your mouth, but it was also hot and you felt proud you’d made him feel good. He was panting, trying to recover, when you pulled off his dick, a satisfied smile on your face. His hand wandered to your face, caressing your cheekbone, before moving down to your puffy lips.
“Can I-” he was almost embarrassed, “Can I see baby? Can you open your mouth for me?”
A little confused, you did as told and opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue that was still covered in his sticky release.
“Fuck,” he groaned at the sight, squeezing his eyes shut and willing himself not to get hard again. “C-Can you swallow it for me, beautiful?”
Still confused, you nodded and gulped it down, trying not to look like it felt as gross as it did. If Seokmin noticed, he didn’t remark it, because he only groaned again, and pulled you by your face into a sloppy, heated kiss.
“So, so, so good for me,” he whispered, not letting you out of the kiss, even when saliva dripped down your chin. “Such a good girl, letting me use her mouth, such an obedient, good girl.”
You whined into his mouth at those words, bothered by the aching in your core that his moans and his blissed out face had caused, and now those words repeated over and over: Good girl.
He grinned into your mouth. “Yeah? You like being my good girl, right? Like doing your best for Seokminnie?”
“Yes,” you murmured breathlessly, too lost in the feeling of his mouth and his hands rubbing your waist to come up with anything better.
Seokmin pulled away with a warm smile, both hands coming up to cup your cheeks. “You did well,” was all he said, and you could genuinely cry, because that was it - you just wanted to know you did well.
“I’m gonna go clean up, okay?” he said, waiting for you to nod in response before he pushed himself off the bed, snatching a new pair of boxers from a drawer on his way out of the door.
You threw yourself on the bed, closing your eyes contentedly.
He liked you. You were sure of it now, when you thought back to how his eyes had balked at you so wonderfully, how careful and attentive he’d been. You were certain, and your heart smiled and you smiled and your hair was sprawled out on his sheets and for the first time, that desert wasteland in your head welcomed you and took you in, and you were right where you were supposed to be.
Until your phone started buzzing.
It was dancing across the sheets violently at someone's call and you peeked open one eye tiredly to pick it up. And when you did, the desert turned on you. Caught in a sandstorm, you held your phone between your fingers and felt your heart drop, lowered into the acid bath of your stomach.
It was Vernon.
Vernon, who was Seokmin’s best friend. Vernon, who was your brother. Vernon, who had always yelled at you to leave his room whenever he had Seokmin over. Vernon, who didn’t like when you talked to any guys at all, who had recruited his best friend to watch over you and take care of you. Vernon, whose best friend had just had his dick in your mouth.
You heard the shower running distantly when you clicked accept, hoping to God that you didn’t look too disheveled.
“Hi, N/n!” Vernon cheered immediately on the other end. His face popped up on your screen, a bright smile on his face. You smiled too - you missed your brother - but it was half faded, and Vernon noticed immediately.
“Hi, Vern,” you said softly. His brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”
Of course, he could read you like a book. Of course, he knew that you were distant and nervous. You sighed heavily, trying desperately to collect yourself, to remember how you usually behaved, but for some reason, that you was far gone, and you had to be splayed on his screen, like a person replaced by something peregrine.
“I’m a little stressed out,” you mumbled. “Got a lot of papers and stuff, that’s why I’m not home.”
“Come home next break, okay? We miss you and you need to get out of that place every once in a while.”
You nodded.
Vernon’s eyes narrowed suddenly, and you saw him lean closer to the screen (which would have been funny, were you not suddenly wondering if there was leftover cum on your face). “Hey, where are you right now?”
“My friend,” you said quickly - too quickly. “Her name’s Yunjin, we’re working together in chem.”
Vernon hummed, seemingly content with your answer. “Your friend has the same bed sheets as Seokmin.”
Shit, yeah, they facetimed every week, you remembered, cringing at yourself for not thinking of it earlier. You tried to play it cool, shrugging: “Weird.”
“Yeah, anyway-”
Vernon rambled on and on about something or other, but you were unable to focus, watching the door to Seokmin’s room with a worried frown.
Moreover, you felt like a whore. Realistically, you hadn’t even lost your virginity. But sleeping with your brother’s best friend suddenly felt way more real now that you were talking to said brother, now that you were lying to his face, and you felt dirty and gross and you wished you could stand before Vernon, as the same baby sister that you had been before. But you weren’t. You were disgusting.
“Vernon, I gotta go,” you cut him off, and you hadn’t heard a word. Vernon’s excited expression dropped and he furrowed his brows.
“Are you okay?” he asked, and you thanked the pixels for concealing at least a bit of the worry on his face.
“Yeah, I just- I really need to get going,” you said. “Bye, Vernon!”
“By-”
You disconnected the call and gathered your things, put your own clothes back on. Throwing Seokmin’s clothes onto his floor felt like shedding a second skin - a skin that had made you ugly and greedy and lustful. You only kept his boxers on, lumping the dress over your shoulders to drape over you in an unsightly and unorganized way.
You spared a glance at the wrapped condom on his bedside table, long lost and forgotten by now. You could leave it. You could leave it and have a reason to come back, a reason to slip across that ledge again and fall into his arms and his mouth and his warmth. You almost did. Almost left it right there, where it begged to belong. But you snatched it off the counter, ignoring the way your heart clenched when you did, and slipped it into your tote bag. And you left, jumping across the border that separated you and back into your own wasteland. And it was so cold and so empty. You were alone again.
Seokmin came out of the shower, expecting to see you cuddled up in his bed, all soft and beautiful. But you weren’t there. Seokmin understood immediately. The condom was gone and so were you, only the perfume in his sheets remained, willing him to remember. And he cried. He sobbed into his own hands, because what had he done?
You did not see each other the rest of that day. Or the next day.
_____________________________
Seokmin wanted to let you disappear. He wanted you to slip away and he wanted to forget it had even happened - like a burning star dies out and leaves only a faint warmth behind, lasting years. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t let you go, couldn’t bear knowing he’d never hold you in his arms again, never see you laugh again, never see you cum again. And he couldn’t bear knowing that maybe he’d read it wrong; maybe he’d made you uncomfortable, maybe you’d felt obligated.
So he texted you. For two days his texts came in sporadically and unsuccessfully. Questioning and pleading, he wanted to know it wasn’t true.
Lee Seokmin: why’d you leave?
Lee Seokmin: can we talk??
Lee Seokmin: i miss u
Lee Seokmin: i need to know i didnt hurt you
Lee Seokmin: can you please answer?
Each text came more painful than the last. Each text came more pleading. You sat alone in your room, in the dark, having only his one sided chats to light up your tear-streaked face.
Eventually they stopped coming. You thought they would. You thought, you knew, eventually he’d give up. But what hurt the most was knowing he wanted you too; knowing he liked you as much as you liked him. You’d seen it in his eyes, when his hand slipped between your legs, and you’d seen it when he came staring down at you.
But you preferred to remember Seokmin for how he was.
How he was small and young, how he had a swanky bowlcut and how he looked in his school uniform. How he and your big brother, Vernon, had bonded and watched movies together in your living room, and the countless dinners he’d stayed over for, always so respectful to your parents and you. You preferred to remember when he didn’t love you back.
The pain that had been tethered to your youth and to him, back when he was unreachable, just a figure you could marvel at, was so much duller compared to this pain, the one pulsed in your heart now: the pain of him loving you back, but still being off-limits. Something that could be, but was destined to die out. And it did, when he stopped texting you, you felt that unborn child’s soul leave your own. Alone again.
And then suddenly, you weren’t.
A stern knock on your door. You flinched at the sound, fearing the worst. You were in your bed, in your sweatpants and your sweater and that condom was on the bedside table, watching the door with you.
Another knock.
“Y/n, I know you’re in there!”
Seokmin. Of course, it was Seokmin. No one else would come for you. But it was all too painful. You feared the worst - feared that seeing him, you would collapse into him again, and that this time you wouldn’t be able to find your way back.
“Open the door, Y/n,” his voice was serious.
“Go away, Seokmin!” you yelled, voice breaking halfway.
A pause. When Seokmin spoke again, he was not angry anymore; he was vulnerable.
“Y/n. I-I know you don’t want to talk to me, but-” he paused, wincing at himself and you knew there was tears in his eyes. “But I need to know that I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”
You thought that you could handle the self-blame Seokmin omitted - maybe that’s just because it was words on a screen. But hearing him crying outside your door, and how real he was when his hand knocked vigorously, it tore down each and every one of your last defenses.
“I need- I need to hear that you’re okay and that I-”
“I’m opening the door,” you interrupted him, and sure enough you padded to the door and swiftly unlocked it.
And then you were standing before one another. It was like time stopped, how the air stilled around you, and how the world quieted down. He was all crumpled paper hearts, all deflated and broken, and his hair was messy and his eyes were dark, but they sparkled again, just at the sight of you, and yours at him.
“It’s not your fault,” you whispered, breaking the enchantment cast upon you. The real world came crashing down, the people in the streets and birds in the trees and wind coursing through the leaves. The light that you’d shut out with a firm tug to the curtains was dancing on your linoleum floor. “It’s my fault. It’s- I talked to Vernon and I- I feel like shit, Seokmin. I feel like a slut.”
“You’re a virgin!” Seokmin scoffed, but it did nothing to calm you.
“It felt wrong! Because I- because you’re Vernon’s friend. Because Vernon never likes when I date guys, and because now I’ve been fooling around with his best friend,” you defended yourself, biting your lip when tears stung your eyes. Seokmin softened. “I just felt guilty. And gross.”
“You’re not gross, you’re in love,” he said softly, and your eyes locked. Everything about him was pleading - he was just short of literally falling to his knees, begging for you to hear him out. “And- and with me, of all people!”
“Seokmin-”
“And I’m in love with you too,” his voice was an urgent whisper, not daring to let you speak again, to let you try and steer him away.
“Of all people,” you mumbled, a small smile finding your lips. Seokmin smiled too.
“So.. I’m tired of hearing you talk about yourself like this. I’m tired of Vernon being the one keeping us apart. I want- I want you to know that Vernon would understand.”
You shook your head dismissively. He wouldn’t.
“I know him too! You know? Maybe better than you,” he pouted a little, and it made you laugh, and everything was becoming lighter, and for better or worse you really did want to jump into his arms again. “He shouldn’t be the thing stopping you from dating me- or- or anyone, really. But especially me.”
You giggled again, and Seokmin’s heart palpitated in his chest at that sound - and at being the source of it. Then the laughter trailed off and your smile tightened and your heart tightened: “I just don’t want to sneak around-”
“Okay! Say no more!” Seokmin interrupted, hand held out as if to calm a mighty beast. He casually pulled out his phone, tongue in his cheek, as he called your brother. Vernon.
It rang for a few seconds, put on speaker. You couldn’t help the nervousness. Couldn’t help the pinch in your nerves, building up from your stomach and into your heart. Then he answered.
“Hey, dude, what’s up?” Vernon’s voice glitched on the other end of the line, utterly oblivious (as always). Seokmin spoke, hand on his hip: “Hey, just curious, how would you feel if me and your sister started dating?”
There was a moment of silence. On Vernon’s end, you imagined it was simply puzzled, but on your end, you stood with your heart all big and floaty, like a balloon in your hand, waiting for him to say that he’d hate it, that he’d kill him, and pop your heart with a simple word to prick. That wasn’t what he said though. Vernon said:
“I mean, yeah, man, I’d prefer you over any of those other college douchebags. I at least know you’d take care of her for real, man, not like that Jeonghan guy you were going on about.”
Your heart balloon took off, and the boundary between you and Seokmin filled itself with sand. Had it been imaginary? This whole time? You couldn’t help the wheeze you left you, overwhelmed with relief and joy.
“I know, man, Jeonghan’s the worst,” Seokmin said casually, but he was grinning from ear to ear at your reaction. You’d buckled over in silent laughter, unable to contain the glee. It seemed to dramatic now
“The worst,” Vernon repeated. Then he pursed his lips and spoke again: “So you’re dating my sister?”
“Uh, you know, I think we’re making it official in a second, yeah,” Seokmin said and even Vernon could hear the smile in his voice.
“Cool, man, yeah, I kind of figured, she facetimed me with your ugly ass bed sheets in the background, and I thought, no way, a girl would buy those bed sheets.”
“Lay off my sheets, man.”
Both of the men laughed and you did too, crying laughing and covering your mouth to contain. Your chest was fluttering with butterflies and light and love.
“Hey, man, for real, if you hurt her, I know where you live, bro,” Vernon was suddenly serious.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, man,” Seokmin responded, equally as serious now. He eyed you, then spoke into the phone again: “Hey, I gotta go make sweet love to your sister.”
“Ew, dude, don’t say tha-”
And the phone was hung up and Seokmin was laughing with you, eyes crescent and smile wide and toothy, and cheeks all red and shiny, he doubled over and took your hands in his. “I told you, didn’t I?”
“Shut up, Lee,” you said, pulling him by the hand and letting him kiss you. Letting yourself kiss him. Letting yourself back into his arms, and this time Seokmin had crossed the border, and had fallen into you, and you stood there together and you were in love.
So, so in love, your lips entangled and danced together, and your hands dragged up the back of his neck and his up your waist.
And you realized, his tongue in your mouth, this was how you preferred to remember Seokmin; completely and utterly in love with you, and dancing with you in your room, and smiling into the kiss, and hands running up your body. You preferred to remember him as yours, and yourself as his.
Seokmin guided you to your bed, pulling your body into his lap. Then he pulled away, completely out of breath, and smiling at you like a twinkling star.
“Think we can finally break open that condom now?”
“Fuck yes,” you said.
And then you did.
#dk x reader#svt dk x reader#lee dokyeom x reader#lee seokmin x reader#seokmin x reader#dk smut#seokmin smut#dokyeom smut#lee seokmin smut#lee dokyeom smut#svt smut#svt x reader#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#svt angst#seventeen angst
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THIS MUST BE MY DREAM — YANG JUNGWON
∿ 📋 SCORE SHEETS ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Jungwon was living his best life at Earl View Academy. He was scoring the highest marks, dominating every exam, and ranking the top one out of every student. See, he was living his best life at Earl View Academy before you came along, destroying his reputation because of your similar level in academics. It had to be a dream, there was no way someone could compete with him. With that said, he immediately renamed you as the new student to his one and only arch nemesis.
∿ TOP RANKS ✂️ academic-rival!jungwon x fem!reader (ft. jungwon from enhypen, baekseung from epex, and minji from newjeans)
∿ EXAM REVIEW ⟡ insp by doctor slump, long fic, academic rivals to lovers, rivals to lovers, highschool au, nerds to lovers, fluff, crack, and angst.
∿ 📔 STUDY NOTES ୨ৎ swearing, bickering, mentions of pills (painkillers), skipping meals, fainting, crying, being sick, and mental health issues, lmk if i missed anything.
∿ NUMBER OF EXAM QUESTIONS 🎓 14980 words
∿ FEEDBACK . . . and with that said it’s finally done!!!!! took me two months cs i took so many breaks …. happy belated jungwon day? LMFAO… and tysm to @soov for proofreading all the way !!! love u rei <33
∿ STUDY PLAYLIST 🎶 click here!
RANK ONE.
In Earl View Academy, everyone wanted to live Jungwon’s life. He was a son everyone wanted—not his words—and that made him feel good about himself. Even if he was quite the goofball, he still aced all his assignments while having fun.
His life was perfect.
“Jungwon!” His friend, Baekseung called, gaining his attention almost immediately. The boy looked over at his brown-haired friend with a smile, pausing the movements of his pencil gliding against his notebook.
“Hm?” He hummed, waiting for his friend to continue talking. Baekseung took a seat on the window sill beside Jungwon as Minji walked into the classroom.
“Did you see the banner they hung up? It has something to do with University, I believe.” He said as Minji walked towards them.
“Here.” She held out her phone, showing the boys a picture of the banner. It showcased a brief description of what to expect when applying to the University of Seoul and the date of submission—February 9th of 2024.
Jungwon’s birthday.
It was perfect timing, almost as if it was destined to be. His reputation at school and his relationship with his teachers would easily help him get accepted, right?
“The acceptance rate is 40%, which isn’t all bad, but many people apply, so…” Minji explained, turning off her phone, and shoving it into her back pocket. Jungwon tapped his pencil against his chin to a random, yet consistent rhythm in his head.
Jungwon’s friends always enabled his confidence. He was aware of his smartness, but they made it seem bigger than it really was.
“Although a lot of people apply, I’m sure you’ll get accepted. Your application will catch their eyes immediately, trust me.”
Jungwon bit back a smile at Baekseung’s words, sending him an amused nod instead.
“I’m sure it will.” He replied, returning his focus to his notes. Before his friends appeared, he was working on a few equations, to make sure they stuck with him for their test.
It was his way of studying; learn the materials in class and study them like his life depended upon it.
It worked like a charm every time.
“I don’t get how you understand these things.” Baekseung said while peeking over at his work. Jungwon smiled, letting out a chuckle.
He never did, it wasn’t anything new.
“See, you start with your values, then you write out your formula and substitute your variables for your numbers—”
“Enough! You lost me at the word ‘values.’” He exclaimed, causing both Jungwon and Minji to laugh.
“Hey, when you get accepted into the University of Seoul, don’t forget me.” Baekseung pleaded and leaned in with his hands desperately clasped together.
“I won’t, I won’t.”
Jungwon dropped his pencil, letting it lay flat on his notebook, and placed his hands on top of Baekseung’s.
“You have nothing to worry about.” He said, playing along with Baekseung’s act.
“I don’t get how I was pulled into this trio,” Minji said, cringing at the sight before her.
“Yeah, me neither.” Baekseung smiled at Jungwon, then, removed his hands from underneath his, and returned to his spot on the window sill.
“Oh well, here we are now. You love us, right?” Jungwon teased, the cringing expression never leaving Minji’s face.
The two boys stared at her in silence, waiting for her response. They wouldn’t let her off the hook if she didn’t open her mouth to say anything.
“Fine. I do.” She replied, earning bright smiles from her friends in return. She shook her head, a small smile making its way to her face.
It was impossible to avoid their faces. Even if they weren’t trying, they still managed to swoon her over with one look. They were unstoppable together.
Jungwon went back to studying as Minji and Baekseung playfully bickered over a past memory. It was a common occurrence, nothing new.
“I heard they’re selling Yakult in the cafeteria today!” A classmate said to their friend, gaining the three’s attention immediately.
They stopped what they were doing and looked at each other. They gave each other a look that only they could understand. There were no words shared, only their eyes held their words.
Soon after, Baekseung and Jungwon got up from their spots, following behind Minji who led them out of the classroom.
Yakult was their favourite thing ever. It was something all three of them could agree on—that they tasted delightful. Other than that, they all had different tastes in a way.
“Finally, they’re bringing it back!” Minji cheered, happier than ever. Baekseung, who stood in the middle, wrapped his arms around the two to pull them in closer.
“Do we have a plan?” He asked as Minji scoffed.
“Do we even need one? Just do whatever your mind tells you to.” She said and he nodded.
“Smart choice.”
The two conversed alone just as they did back in the classroom, except Jungwon wasn’t studying. He could’ve been included in their conversation right now, they weren’t excluding him at all.
He just didn’t pay attention. He didn’t even take note that they were talking because it all sounded muffled to him.
All he paid attention to was his homeroom teacher who walked down the hallways, lips moving as if he was talking to someone, but Jungwon didn’t know who.
Once he walked past, it was then revealed. A girl stood fairly behind his homeroom teacher, catching Jungwon’s attention.
He had no clue who she was, nor had he ever seen her face before, he ‘didn’t’ even care about what her name was, what time she arrived, what foods she liked, why she was wearing their school’s uniform, or what she had for breakfast.
All he cared about was how pretty she was, and fine, maybe what her name was too. Previously, if someone were to tell him about another being heaven-sent he wouldn’t understand them.
Now, he really does because she, she was heaven-sent to him at least.
“You okay?” Baekseung asked, looking over at Jungwon’s dazed figure. He shook Jungwon with the arm that rested over his shoulder, startling the poor boy.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m okay.”
Well, he hoped he was.
“Sweet, if I’m not wrong, lunch starts in about 3 minutes. Therefore, I believe we’ll be first…” Baekseung paused, his voice growing quieter at the sight before them.
“… In line.” His words were almost like a whisper. He was practically speechless at the line. At least 20 students were already waiting for their Yakult’s.
“Yeah, um, maybe we do need a plan,” Minji said, regretting her previous words. There was no way they’d get through a line like this one.
“Maybe? We 100% need a plan.” Baekseung said, his arms slipping off their shoulders.
“I’m sure we’ll be fine if we just wait. It can’t be that bad—Woah! Okay. Maybe it is bad.” Jungwon’s reassuring words were cut off by his shocked ones.
The line extended even further. How was that even possible?
“Hey, Min, what time is it?” Jungwon asked Minji as she checked her phone that previously sat in her back pocket.
“11:37 AM.” She replied, still flabbergasted at the number of students waiting for their Yakult’s.
“Do you think that will be enough time to visit the nearest convenience store and then come back?” Jungwon asked, desperate for an escape. He was still craving a Yakult, but they wouldn’t get one at this rate.
“It’s 27 (81 Fahrenheit) degrees Celsius outside…” Baekseung muttered, mentally sweating at the thought.
“We can get ice cream as well…” Jungwon whispered, scared that the line of students would overhear his words and run after them.
What if they were craving ice cream too? It wasn’t just the three of them who were feeling hot.
“Smart choice. Yeah, let’s do that instead.” Minji cautiously walked away from the entrance of the cafeteria, careful not to make a sound as the two boys did the same.
Yes, they were being very dramatic right now, but that line of students was very intimidating.
The three returned to class with leftovers of their ice creams, hoping nobody would ask them for at least one lick—it was disgusting to know that they were serious.
“Oh, Jungwon,” Minji said, remembering something from earlier. Jungwon hummed in response, his mouth full of ice cream.
“Did you even start your applications? Our midterms are soon, so I’m sure our guidance counsellors are going to approach you about it.”
“Are you worried for me? Or do you want to use my application as a template for yours?”
“I…” Minji stayed silent as Baekseung stifled a laugh. She sent him a glare, causing him to clear his throat. What was he laughing at? He was bound to do the same exact thing.
“Fine, you caught me. But hey, I have no idea what I’m supposed to do!” She exclaimed as Jungwon chuckled, getting up from his seat to throw away his ice cream wrapper.
“If you want, I can assist you—”
“Guys, guys!” A classmate shouted while running into the classroom shocked. Everyone’s heads turned to look at the said boy, more confused than ever. What lie was he about to spurt next?
“I just saw a pretty, pretty girl in the teacher’s office. I think she’s a new student.” He explained, however, nobody reacted.
“Are you lying to cover up the fact you were being scolded in the office?” Another classmate asked, causing laughs to erupt from other students in the room. Jungwon smiled to himself, that was a good one.
“I’m serious! I heard she might even be smarter than Jungwon!” The student exclaimed, causing Jungwon’s smile to falter and his pen to stop moving.
All eyes were focused on him as he slowly looked up at the shouting boy.
“Eh, I’m sure there’s no one who can compare to his level!” Baekseung said, patting Jungwon on his shoulder and smiling.
Jungwon was considered very smart for someone his age. It was a common compliment he received, but he didn’t hate it. It was quite ego-boosting.
“Everyone! Have a seat please.” Ms. Eun walked through the doors of their classroom, and another student walked in a few moments later.
“Obviously, I’m sure you’re aware of the new student joining our class today! Please make (Name) (Last Name) feel welcome in our classroom!” She explained as Jungwon’s eyes widened.
You were the same girl he saw in the hallways earlier. For some reason, his heart skipped a beat and his ears went numb at the sight of you.
“Oh, Jungwon. (Name) also got perfect on the entrance exam and was the top student at her old school. It must be great to meet someone at your level.” Ms. Eun smiled as all the emotions Jungwon had felt earlier plummeted.
So his classmate wasn’t lying. There was really someone who matched his skill of knowledge.
You looked over at the boy Ms. Eun referred to, noticing the way his expressions switched. At first glance, he was calm, but his eyes said otherwise.
They held an emotion you’ve never seen in anyone else’s—a desire to win. And, of course, you wouldn’t let him achieve that goal of his.
If someone were to win and maintain that top student rank, it would be you and you only.
You two hadn’t even spoken to one another, but within those 2 minutes of staring into each other’s eyes, it was obvious you both saw each other as a threat.
No matter what, only one of you can have that title.
RANK TWO.
“Jungwon, you haven’t looked up from your notebook this whole class,” Minji said, turning around in her seat to face him.
“Literally! There’s not even a single test coming up. What is there to be reviewed at this point?” Baekseung chimed in with a frown.
Yet, Jungwon didn’t look up, easily proving their point. It had been a week since you first arrived at Earl View Academy.
A week since Jungwon first felt threatened by your appearance. His life was perfect until you arrived.
His friends swore they hadn’t had one single hangout since then, but he said otherwise.
“You do know, you reviewing your notes while Minji and I converse without you, isn’t a hangout right?”
Jungwon’s pencil stopped moving for a brief moment, only to start up again at an even faster pace.
He couldn’t fall behind you.
He glanced over at your focused state, glaring in the process. You seemed to be at ease and he wasn’t.
That should’ve been him.
What happened to the perfect life that everyone wanted to live? The one where he could be happy and carefree even while passing all his classes with 100s?
“Don’t tell me you feel threatened—”
Jungwon’s pencil-led snapping silenced Baekseung’s voice almost immediately. He looked up at his friend, eyes darker than usual. There wasn’t his signature gleam that complimented his dimpled smile. He looked like he was ready to kill someone.
“Minji…” Baekseung called, signalling for her to take over the conversation. Sadly, that failed. She was just as scared as him.
“Hey, I could, uh… I could sharpen this for you!” She exclaimed, instead of continuing the same topic as before.
She took the pencil out of his hold, but Jungwon silently searched his pencil case for another one.
He had no time to waste. He was almost done with his notes.
Minji took her seat again, placing the boy’s broken pencil beside his notebook with a soft, yet dragged-out ‘okay.’
There would’ve been no point in going anyway.
“Dude, why don’t you let loose a bit?” A classmate said to their friend and began shaking their shoulders.
“I can’t! You know how my mom is about my grades right now…” He mumbled, embarrassed.
The boy from earlier grabbed his basketball that rolled under his desk and bounced it around him.
“I know you want to play basketball right now, but that’s okay. I’ll just play with Jungwon and his friends.” He informed his friend, turning to look at Jungwon who wasn’t paying attention.
“Yo, Jungwon! Catch this!” He shouted, alerting both of his friends, but him.
He passed the ball, expecting Jungwon—or even Baekseung—to catch the ball, however, there was nothing.
Instead, the loud thud of a ball hitting your head, echoed throughout the classroom. At least, that managed to catch Jungwon’s attention.
Your pen fell out of your hand, landing on the desk. Your ears began to ring as frustration—and a bit of lightheadedness—took over your system.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry.” The classmate said, making his way over to you with a worried look.
It was only your second day and you were making enemies.
Yet, you couldn’t bother to accept his apology. You looked at him with a facial expression that not even his mom had ever given him. He was terrified.
“Does this classroom look like a circus to you?” You asked as a throbbing pain slowly began to settle in your head.
“Are you so unskilled that you can’t even hold a basketball properly? Actually, are you so childish to the point where you aren’t aware of classroom rules?”
The atmosphere of the classroom vastly shifted. It was quite intense and unsettling.
His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water stunned by your words. He was speechless, how could he respond to that?
“Please leave me alone, you’d only be a distraction to my studies.” With that said, you returned to your work, acting as if the boy in front of you didn’t exist.
Jungwon’s brows furrowed at the sight, you were being so mean and for what?
The boy shamefully walked back to his seat as all his friends held in their laughs. He was already embarrassed enough, their laughs only adding to the fire.
Forget what Jungwon said about you being heaven-sent, the Devil must’ve sent you instead. He swore if he stared even longer, horns would grow on your head at any given moment.
So, he looked away and continued taking his notes.
“She seems mean,” Baekseung whispered to the two around him. Minji nodded in agreement, mentioning how she got chills from how you stared at the boy.
You proceeded to rub at your temples in an attempt to force away the throbbing migraine coming your way. You couldn’t take a break from studying.
You had to finish reviewing this material before anything at all—not even a meal break was allowed in your Book of Rules.
“What do you guys want to do for lunch?” Baekseung asked, gaining Jungwon and Minji’s attention again.
“I heard they’re going to play Basketball in the gym. You two should play as well!” Minji exclaimed, which only resulted in Jungwon’s head perking up at the sport.
“I’m down,” Jungwon said almost immediately. Baekseung and Minho’s eyebrows rose at his quick decision. It was almost as if he wasn’t studying his butt off while ignoring his two chattery friends a moment ago.
“Are you sure? I thought you had to revise your notes.” Baekseung verbalised his confusion as Jungwon began packing up his belongings.
“I already understand everything. A + B = X times 6–”
“Okay! Okay. No more Math, please.” Baekseung was quick to halt Jungwon’s equation with his index finger. He slowed down his pace when zipping up his backpack, taking in the words Baekseung uttered before.
A smile made its way to the boy’s face at the realisation of his friend's confusion. Baekseung definitely had no clue what they were learning in class.
“Hurry! I don’t want to be late for team decisions.” He exclaimed, hopping off of the desk he sat on.
Jungwon waved off his friend’s pestering and walked out of the classroom, the two trailing behind him.
You, on the other hand, struggled to focus on your work. The whole classroom was quiet and you were the only one left. Everyone had left for lunch, but you.
Yes, you loved quiet, however your migraine didn’t. The accompanied silence only made your migraine throb even more, a faint mic feedback noise to back it up.
Almost like you had a fever.
You placed your pencil down beside your notebook on your desk and stood up from your seat.
A quick stop at the nurse's office wouldn’t hurt anyone, right? It would benefit your studying session and get rid of your pain quite easily.
That was the only exception to your Book of Rules when it came to studying. Nothing else.
Jungwon shot the ball into the hoop, his hair and necktie flowing with his every movement. His uniform sleeves were rolled up, cuffed around the skin above his forearm, helping his gameplay style quite well.
Baekseung smiled at his friend, high-fiving him in the process.
“Nice one! They won’t beat us at this rate.” He said, looking at the scoreboard that read 17-9. Maybe he wasn't exaggerating it like every other time.
Jungwon grinned, his dimples showing faintly. It wasn’t an all-tooth grin, more toothless. His lips were pursed into a thin line and his cheekbones were nearing his under eyes. It was enough to show his appreciation for his friend’s compliment.
His forehead was becoming a slightly sweaty state, causing his previously parted bangs to clump together and loosely stick to the damped skin.
There were 8 more points until the match was done. They didn’t have much time to play 4 full quarters, so they made a bet; first to 25 wins.
Sadly, no rewards could have been won by the players, making this Basketball game more enjoyable than competitive.
Jungwon didn’t have enough time though, he would almost need to return to studying quite soon. Seriously, he couldn’t fall behind someone like you.
“Baek,” Jungwon whispered, hoping it was enough to gain his friend’s attention who stood across from him on the court, but it wasn’t enough at all.
“Baekseung!” Jungwon called while raising his voice a bit over his usual tone. The said boy looked over with widened eyes in shock.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jungwon said, fighting back a snicker at his friend’s startled state.
“Well, I have to go now. Tell Min I said bye too.” He said and walked past Baekseung, patting his shoulder as a way of saying goodbye.
As he walked out of the gymnasium doors, he shook his head, causing his hair strands to move around, some still sticking on his forehead.
He stretched his limbs and began revising the lesson from earlier.
The hallways were empty, leaving him with more of a quiet atmosphere to focus on his thoughts.
Jungwon’s lips moved, soft whispers of equations and problems leaving them. If there were other people here, they would give him the dirtiest looks right now. He most definitely looked psychotic.
Luckily, there wasn’t anyone. Yet.
The sound of the door sliding shut caught his attention and he looked up to see where it came from.
The nurse’s office was always a popular spot in their school, so it wasn't a shock that someone was leaving the room at this exact moment.
Surprisingly, it was a shock to him. He never thought you were the type to leave your desk ever.
Your brows furrowed at the sight before you.
A sight of disgust.
Yang Jungwon was the last person you wanted to see with your throbbing migraine. He was all sweaty, his hair glistened from the sweat droplets that stuck onto the strands, his necktie was loose, his uniform was dishevelled, and his face was a light shade of red due to the hotness of the gymnasium.
He looked disgusting.
Jungwon had no clue as to why you were glaring at him. He wasn’t the reason you ended up visiting the nurse’s office, so why were you giving him such a dirty look?
He should be the annoyed one at this exact moment. After all, you were the one who moved to Earl View Academy and ruined his ‘perfect’ life.
He looked back at you with a confused yet irritated expression on his features as the two of you stood in silence.
Jungwon’s eyes looked over your appearance, noticing how your hand was propped against your chest and holding an item he had seen before.
Your eyes followed his gaze and then widened at realisation. Out of reflex, you hid the painkillers behind your back, not wanting to come off as weak towards him.
You couldn’t let him see you as someone who wasn’t that much of a threat to his academic success.
In silence, you turned around, moving the pill bottle to your chest again, and made your way back to the classroom. For some reason, your movements aggravated Jungwon’s previous calm state.
God, he hated you so much. He couldn’t believe he once thought you were pretty—it would be a lie if he said he still didn’t. That didn’t matter though, you could be pretty and still have a snotty attitude.
That was a perfect description for you.
Although you thought you left Jungwon behind in front of the nurse’s office, to your dismay, you didn’t.
There he was, standing at the doorway of your once previous quiet study room—or in other words, your homeform classroom.
You rolled your eyes after noticing him at the doorway and looked back at your notes.
He ignored your response to his presence and took a seat at his desk near the window. Jungwon slipped his hand into his backpack, grabbing his pencil case and notebook in the process.
A tense silence followed the two of you as you flipped your pages in sync and continued writing down more things in sync.
You were pausing more than he was due to the pain in your head which only slowed down your movements even more. Yes, you planned on taking the painkillers, but not when he was around.
Still, you couldn’t hold back. You had to do it or else you wouldn’t be able to study one bit.
Although the painkillers mentioned eating a meal before intaking the pills, you refused to follow the instructions. You had no time to take a break and find something to fill your stomach, especially when you were already falling behind Jungwon’s studying pace.
You reached for your bottle of water off your desk and popped a pill in your mouth, scarfing down water right after.
Jungwon looked up at the sound of pills shaking in a bottle. It was obvious it came from you, you were the only other person in the classroom.
It seemed like the basketball to your head earlier really took a toll on you. He didn’t blame you though, it truly did sound like it hurt.
Except, that wasn’t the only thing he noticed. Even if he was in one place all lunch, it seemed like you didn’t leave your seat at all. It was kept the exact same like he last saw it before lunch time.
Luckily, the sound of your stomach growling was enough to answer his unsaid question as he watched your ears turn a shade of red.
As much as you tried to pretend that didn’t happen, you were tremendously embarrassed. Still, you couldn’t eat.
Not yet at least.
“You didn’t hear that.” You mumbled, hoping it was loud enough for Jungwon to catch. He hummed in response while eyeing his work, not paying much attention to your silly incident.
He knew how embarrassing it could have been, so it was best not to engage.
Thankfully, God was on your side, ringing the bell a few seconds after Jungwon had hummed.
Soon after, students began flooding into the classroom and heading to their seats in loud crowds.
Therefore, your quiet time with the last person you wanted to spend it with, had ended.
RANK THREE.
“Jungwon and (Name), please come up and answer the questions on the board.”
Great.
It was only 10:30 AM on a Wednesday, and yet you were already going head-to-head with your rival.
Jungwon confidently made his way to the chalkboard and picked up a piece of chalk from the ledge.
You, on the other hand, paused for a moment after getting up from your seat. You were suddenly feeling lightheaded, and that was never a good sign.
However, if you didn’t make it over fast enough, he would for sure beat you in a blink. And so, you did. You rushed over and picked up a chalk stick, then began writing.
It was a simple equation to you, but to everyone else who didn’t understand the lesson, it wasn’t. It was way more complex to them than how it really was.
Jungwon was already halfway through answering the question whilst you haven’t even started. You wrote the given values on the side to keep track of the numbers you would use.
Easy, right?
Not quite.
You couldn’t focus at all even if there were no distractions nor was it loud in your classroom.
The only thing you could hear was the harsh sounds of Jungwon pressing his chalk against the board after he reached a new step.
Your ears became sensitive to any sound, causing you to even take note of the rhythm his piece of chalk followed when gliding against the blackboard. It was irritating you and annoying.
As much as you wanted to stop him from writing, you couldn’t because it was impossible. Your hand wouldn’t move one bit. Your vision became blurry, eyes fluttering shut and opening in a pattern.
“I think I’m going to faint.” You whispered, your words falling deaf on all ears, aside from Jungwon’s.
He didn’t pay much attention to your sentence, brushing it off as a dumb remark about his handwriting or something.
Truthfully, his calligraphy wasn’t the best when it came to using chalk, so you wouldn’t be wrong if you were to say something mean about it. He would only end up agreeing in the end.
Everything stilled for a brief moment before you lost your feeling in your hands, dropping the piece of chalk you held, and falling against the hardwood floor right after.
Gasps were emitted from your classmates—ones you couldn’t even hear—as Jungwon stilled his movements at the loud thud which caused him to flinch slightly.
Jungwon looked down as he still pressed the chalk on the board, his eyes widening and blood draining from his face at the sight.
“(Name)?” Your teacher called, hurriedly making her way towards your unconscious figure. However, there was no response.
“Hey, Jungwon, you were on the track team last year, right?” Ms. Ling asked as he nodded, swallowing and hoping the nauseated feeling in his stomach would disappear.
Spoiler alert—it didn’t.
“Could you run her to the nurse’s office, please?” She asked, leaving the boy with no other choice but to say yes. If he were to say no, he would seem like a villain, and he couldn’t let that happen.
“Okay.” He mumbled and placed the chalk on the ledge before crouching down, slipping an arm under your legs, and wrapping one around your back for extra support.
To his surprise, you were awfully light. A little too light for an average person. It was quite concerning.
Jungwon shook his head, making all his thoughts disappear in the process. He had no time to waste, he had to get you to the nurse’s office quickly—his teacher’s words, not his.
He slid open the door with his foot, shocked that he even managed to succeed himself, and placed you on an unoccupied bed.
Mrs. Oh, the nurse, emerged from her office with a concerned look after noticing the rush Jungwon was in.
“What’s wrong?” She asked before seeing you who lied unconsciously on the bed.
“She fainted a few moments ago in class.” He explained while running a hand through his hair, followed by a sigh.
“Fainted?” The nurse asked and made her way to your still figure, reaching out to touch your pulse points.
“I don’t think it’s a fatal issue. Just hang around for a bit, I’ll run some short tests then you can tell your teacher why she fainted.” Mrs. Oh said as Jungwon nodded.
He could just ask for the notes from Minji after class.
A few moments later, Mrs. Oh returned with a clipboard in her hand and a concerned look on her face.
“Is it bad?” Jungwon asked, slightly worried about her response.
“Oh, no.” Mrs. Oh said, reassuring the boy, then opened her mouth to say something else.
“Thing is, she hasn’t eaten for the last two days.”
What?
RANK FOUR.
Jungwon walked down the hallways of the school, heading to the vending machine nearby. Mrs. Oh’s words replayed in his head many times. It had been a day since your visit to the nurse’s office, but he was still hooked on Mrs. Oh’s discovery.
He didn’t know why he cared that you hadn’t eaten for two days. That was your problem not his.
Yet, he couldn’t help but feel quite worried about your health. How the hell were you still at his level of academic achievements even if you weren’t eating to fuel your brain?
It was crazy. Not even he could survive an hour without a small snack to keep him going. So, how did you even manage to survive?
More of Mrs. Oh’s words flooded through Jungwon’s head, mainly focusing on the fact she put him in charge of making sure you were eating.
Was it not obvious you two hated each other? Well, maybe not since you were fast asleep, but to him it was.
What the hell was he supposed to do to monitor your food intake? Buy you snacks and drinks from the vending machines at their school?
Actually… that wasn’t such a bad idea. It could work for him, but would it work for you? Would you even accept his offers?
You were hard to work with in the first place. There was no way he would follow upon Mrs. Oh’s request. That was your problem and only yours. Not his.
Nevertheless, that didn’t explain the fact he was currently punching in the number two into the vending machine, expecting two granola bars to follow through the hole.
Of course, it wouldn’t be enough to fill him up this lunch, but he had no other choice. He was already exhausted enough from playing football outdoors, leaving him with no more energy to wait in line for food in the cafeteria.
He grabbed the granola bars and made his way to room 116—his home room.
He was excited for the peace and quiet he was about to experience. Nobody ever came to school this early. It was 7:30 AM after all.
School started at 8:20 AM.
If you were to show up at the bell, he could save the granola bar until lunch and give it to you when the room was empty.
Nobody could know that he was interacting with you, especially not after you two made it clear you wanted nothing to do with each other.
“Oh, hey, Jungwon! It’s been quite a bit since I saw you first thing in the morning.” A faculty member said, greeting the boy. He smiled at the teacher and nodded.
It wasn’t a lie. Jungwon always came early, yes, but he never went straight to class. He was either shooting hoops in the gym or doing his morning jog around the track in the field.
The September breeze blew the trees outside as Jungwon watched the leaves sway while walking to class. The windows in the hallways were wide, emitting a bright light into Earl View Academy.
It really suited the vibe he was going for.
But you didn’t.
Jungwon noticed your focused figure, his mood dropping immediately. He was glad you were okay, but not glad that you were in class.
He wanted alone time today, nothing else.
Jungwon put on a straight face, avoiding eye contact with you while walking to his seat. He swiftly placed the granola bar on your desk and moved away as if he didn’t.
You looked down at the granola bar, then to the boy who walked away in silence.
Before you could say anything, he was quick to silence your ‘irritating’ voice.
“Just eat it. Mrs. Oh is making me monitor your meals even if I don’t want to.”
He said without any other explanation. You looked back at the granola bar, hearing Jungwon sit down and begin opening his snack due to the loud rustling of the wrapper.
Instead of doing the same, you pushed the granola bar to the side and returned back to your studies. Once again, your ‘Book of Rules’ said no meals until you were done reviewing.
Jungwon opened his notebook, flipping through the filled pages to find an empty one and begin his studying. He was holding the granola bar in one hand and eating at the same time.
It wasn’t hard at all, which only confused him since you weren’t doing the same.
“Aren’t you going to eat it?” He asked, but you ignored him, staring into your notebook in silence.
The boy scoffed, looking out the window in disbelief. He doesn’t even know why Mrs. Oh trusted him with this ‘task’. He couldn’t say no though, he would have felt guilty to face her again.
Honestly, he was still shocked at the news from yesterday. What did she mean you didn’t eat for 2 days?
Was this an often routine of yours? Was that why you were so concerningly light when he carried you? You were always studying and never seemed like you took any breaks, which only left him wondering.
Seriously, did you ever eat?
“What?” You asked, stiffening and turning around to look at the bow. There was a look of annoyance present on your face, only causing Jungwon to stare back in confusion.
“What?” He questioned back. Why were you looking at him like that even after you blatantly ignored him a moment ago?
“Why is it your business if I ever eat or not?”
Hold on. Did Jungwon think aloud earlier? Was that why you were acting this way?
“I…” He said, fumbling over his words. Truly, how should he respond to that? You weren’t wrong about it not being his business to care—even if you didn’t say that.
He didn’t want to care if you did or not. Still, he couldn’t explain why he was so curious about it.
“Mrs. Oh told me in the nurse’s office that you fainted because your last meal was two days ago…” Jungwon began as your brows furrowed.
“So? Why should you care if that were to happen or not?” You asked.
Once again, you weren’t wrong.
“You’re telling me, you wouldn’t be a little bit concerned about someone who hadn’t eaten for 2 days?”
“If it was part of my business, sure, but if it’s not, then no.”
Jungwon pursed his lips, unsure of what to say next. He tried to think of it, but it ended up coming out on his own. He would definitely regret this later.
“Why?” He started.
“Why do you do that?”
You remained silent and so did he. There was an obvious tension in the air and the both of you felt it easily.
You averted your eyes away from his overpowering gaze, suddenly feeling all fragile due to his sudden question.
“Mind your own business.” You mumbled before turning around to face your desk again.
Normally, you’d return to studying immediately, but this time you were quiet as you stared at your notebook.
You always had answers for questions. Always. However, nobody had ever asked you a question like that, and for some reason, you couldn’t find an answer for it.
Jungwon sighed and shook his head. He didn’t blame you for not answering and getting all defensive instead. It was a question that could pry into anyone’s private life, and obviously, you two were nowhere near a basis like that.
“At least eat the granola bar. I don’t want Mrs. Oh on my ass about anything.” He said before picking up his pencil and writing on his plain notebook.
At the sound of his words, your gaze shifted to the pink wrapper on the granola, noticing how it was strawberry flavoured, one of your favourites.
Maybe you could reconsider eating the snack he got you even if it was going against your rules. It was obvious he wouldn’t leave you alone if you didn’t.
You unwrapped the granola bar, making sure to not crush the treat inside as the bell went so suddenly.
You were both shocked at how much time went past at such a fast pace as a certain thought crossed your mind.
It was time to start another school day.
RANK FIVE.
Ever since that day, Jungwon continuously dropped you off snacks in a discreet manner.
Although you never wanted to eat them, he made you. Your secret rule was slowly being forgotten because of his actions.
“Hey,” he called from his window seat, causing you to remove an earbud from your ear.
“Are you allergic to anything?”
“Why?”
Jungwon stared at you in silence. Were you really asking him that question?
“So I don’t get you anything that’ll kill you…” He said in a tone of disbelief, but you didn’t react.
“Why are you still doing this? Mrs. Oh must’ve forgotten about my visit by now. You can stop.”
You turned away and continued writing in your notebook, leaving Jungwon baffled.
He hated how you were never wrong. Mrs. Oh definitely forgot about your visit from a few weeks ago, but Jungwon couldn’t stop his habit of giving you snacks.
Why?
“You’re telling me you rather faint continuously?” Jungwon asked, halting the hand that went to put your earbud in your ear.
“That’s not a healthy habit. Seriously, you’re going to end up visiting the ER next.”
“As if that hasn’t happened before.” You mumbled and successfully put your earbud in your ear.
Jungwon’s face contorted in confusion, unsure of what you had said. It didn’t seem like the remark he expected, but he shrugged it off.
Whatever.
“Jungwon!” Baekseung exclaimed, running up to the boy and hugging him from behind.
Jungwon stumbled over his feet at the sudden embrace as Minji chuckled from behind the two.
“You’re acting like you haven’t seen him in a decade.” She said, crossing her arms once she reached them.
The hallway they stood in was empty—aside from the 3 being there.
Jungwon wasn’t even aware that he was in the hallway at the moment. His mind was elsewhere when he left the classroom.
Yes, he said he didn’t care about what you said, but he secretly did.
Did he hit a nerve or did he hit one of your soft spots? For the last few weeks, it was obvious there was a lot to you that nobody knew of, yet, Jungwon was close to finding them out.
He felt bad due to your reaction from earlier and a few days ago. Maybe he should really watch what he says from now on.
“What’s up? Do you have your head up in the clouds or something?” Baekseung asked, teasingly.
Jungwon shook out of his thoughts and looked at the boy.
“That was terrible. Never say that again.” He said, causing Baekseung to frown and Minji to laugh.
“Still, he’s right. What’s up with you lately?” Minji asked.
The three walked down the hallways, passing time before their next period started.
“What do you mean what’s up with me?” He asked, confused at their questions.
“You’re constantly spacing out today. Plus, you’re never running or playing basketball outside in the mornings either. I haven’t seen you for a bit every time I arrive at school.” Baekseung explained.
“Dude!” He exclaimed, tapping Jungwon’s shoulder to bring him back from his trance.
Jungwon looked over at Baekseung, startled from the harsh tap.
“What was that for?!” He exclaimed.
“You were doing it again. Seriously, what’s up with you?”
The three remained silent upon Baekseung’s question; Minji and Baekseung waited for Jungwon’s response while he thought of one.
What the hell was he supposed to say?
“Is it her?” Minji asked, chiming into Jungwon’s thoughts.
“Your rival.” She added after seeing Jungwon’s confused face.
He didn’t reply to her question, instead he stayed quieter than ever. Not a peep came out of his mouth. They were almost sure he stopped breathing too.
“So it is! I knew it. Pay up, Baekseung.” Minji said with a bright smile on her face while holding her hand out in front of Baekseung.
Baekseung frowned, glaring at Jungwon as he reached into his pocket for the 10 dollar bill he promised Minji. She looked at the buck, facing the light in case it was fake.
“It’s not fake!” He exclaimed as she chuckled.
“You never know.” Minji said and slipped the $10 into her pocket.
“Wait, you guys placed a bet on me?” Jungwon asked in disbelief.
“Well, yeah. I bet that you liked (Name) and Baekseung said you were just hooked on your university applications.” Minji said, leaning closer to Jungwon.
“He knows nothing about love.”
“I do!” Baekseung blurted, embarrassed at Minji’s remark. She looked over at her and shushed him with a finger on his lip.
“No, you don’t. Just accept that.”
Jungwon shook his head, still shocked at what his friends managed to do. Why would he even be hooked on his university applications if he was 100 percent sure he’d get accepted?
Plus, liking you was definitely out of his range. Wait, liking you?
“I don’t like her! What made you ever think that?!” He exclaimed, his hands flying up in defence.
“Yes. Yes, you do. Don’t fear it, Jungwon.”
Minji looked over at the boy with a teasing smile. Jungwon was a little terrified at the look Minji gave him with her finger still over Baekseung’s lips.
She truly seemed psychotic.
He began speed walking away from the two with hopes that he could escape the so-called assumptions. How would Minji know he liked you before he even knew himself?
Pfft, she was completely wrong.
Jungwon looked at the board, writing his last bits of notes with small diagrams to go along with them.
He was starving, but luckily, lunch was soon.
Speaking of lunch, he wondered what snack he should bring you today. You refused to tell him what you were allergic to, so he couldn’t just get you anything.
He looked up from his notebook, stealing a glance at your seat.
Well, he thought it was your seat, but instead, there was someone slouched over the desk instead.
He continued looking around for you, maybe you switched seats without him knowing?
No, that couldn’t be it. He saw you in the same seat this morning before classes. So, was it really you who was slouched over the desk?
That was surprising. You were always the one to be over the top when it came to education, yet, here you were knocked out mid-lesson.
“For homework, please complete pages 4 and 6. Enjoy your day everyone!” The teacher said while closing their lesson planner and leaving the classroom.
The bell sounded, signalling that lunch had begun while Baekseung and Minji took that as a chance to bother their friend, Jungwon.
“Hey!” Baekseung cheered, sitting down on the window sill like always.
Jungwon looked up at the boy with a smile as Minji turned around in her seat.
“Seems like you don’t have much of a competition anymore.” She said, silently hinting at the girl who was fast asleep—you.
Not even the bell woke you up. You must’ve had a rough night then.
Even if it had been 5 seconds since Minji spoke, Jungwon’s eyes never left you. He was genuinely concerned for your wellbeing.
“Baekseung, didn’t you say you wanted to go to the fast food restaurant nearby for lunch today?” Minji asked, looking up at the boy who stared back in confusion.
“What—”
Minji silenced him with a light slap on his leg, sending him a glare and mouthed the words ‘play along.’
“Oh, yeah! I’ve been craving a burger all day.” Baekseung blurted while nonchalantly rubbing on his leg and dragging out the word ‘all.’
“Jungwon, did you want anything from the fast food restaurant?” Minji asked and looked at him.
But he was still stuck in his trance.
“We’ll get him fries.” She whispered to the boy on the window sill. The two left as quietly as they could, leaving you and Jungwon alone in the classroom.
He observed your silent state, watching how your back raised softly as you breathed. The sunlight from the windows shined on your face, making your eyelashes more visible than others.
You looked so peaceful and so relaxed. It was the first time he had ever seen you this calm and not stuffing your head in your notebooks, rubbing at your temples in a stressful way, harshly sighing and placing your pencil down when you were feeling tired or didn’t understand the formula. It was a great sight.
Jungwon was so focused on you that he didn't notice the smile on his face.
He was smiling because of his arch nemesis. Well, could he even call you his arch nemesis if he cared about you so much?
Probably not.
The vending machine beeped as the four items hit the bottom of it. Jungwon reached down to grab the items and made his way back to class.
Was he out of his mind for still getting you snacks? Possibly. But he couldn’t stop himself, it became a habit of his.
At least you never wasted the snacks he got you. There was one point of the day where you would eat them casually, not even paying much attention to the item in your hold. It became a habit of yours too.
Eventually, the rule became forgotten, but only at school. It still affected you at home.
You woke up in a panic. The classroom you sat in was empty, just like your notebook. The one you significantly chose for the subject.
You looked around, eyes squinting at the bright light from the uncovered windows, taking in the fact nobody—not even Jungwon—was with you.
Great. You were so behind—something you hated.
You panicked, looking at the board to only be met with erase marks of today’s lesson. There was no way you could scavenge with something so little.
Out of habit, you looked down at your desk and rubbed at your temples with your fingers, more stressed out than ever.
You couldn’t fall behind nor could you fail. That was your worst nightmare. Did your parents care if you were to fail a class or fall behind? Not at all. They only cared about you and your health, yet you hated that.
Honestly, growing up, you tended to be naturally good at the things you did. Your parents were, of course, super proud of you, but you didn’t think it was enough.
You never thought anything was enough.
So, studying continuously, fainting continuously, and even starving yourself continuously became a natural routine of yours just to seek academic validation.
If you weren’t at the top of your class or your studies, you weren’t sure how your future would turn out. You would probably end up lower than ever.
No wonder you were so frustrated with yourself. How could you slack off, let alone fall asleep all class? That was so not like you.
You were very disappointed.
The feeling of a sudden coldness on your arm made you jolt. You looked up, wondering where it came from, only to notice the boy who stood before you, Yang Jungwon.
You both looked into each other’s eyes—for the first time, you weren’t glaring. Your vision was quite blurry because of the tears that threatened to fall while he could see you perfectly fine.
He nonchalantly placed the beverage on your desk followed by the poptart. He then made his way to his seat and sat down silently.
You stared at the two items on your desk, holding back your tears. There was nothing about the bottled coffee or the poptart that made you emotional, it was yourself and Jungwon.
You were jealous of him.
The more you attended Earl View Academy, the more you noticed how everyone adored the boy. Everyone, including staff members.
He made friends quite easily and got along with anyone possible.
However, you were the complete opposite. You had your own circle which consisted entirely of yourself and your studying materials, nothing else.
You rarely conversed with anyone, but when you did, it was always harsh. Things easily ticked you off, causing you to confront the so-called things pretty quickly.
Due to this, you were never envisioned as someone who was approachable. Even if you were on top of your studies and understood everything going on, not even many teachers took a liking to you.
It was rare to see one that did.
There were a few times where you tried to maintain certain friendships, but they all ended quite fast. Their reasonings were always the same—you never had time to hang out with them, but you always had time to study.
They eventually fell tired of you and left you behind to befriend someone else. They always regretted even trying something with you because it always turned out to be a ‘waste of their time.’
Jungwon placed his opened notebook on your desk so you could copy down the notes he took in class.
“The homework is page 4 and 6 today. If you don’t understand anything, I could explain it to you if you want.” He said before walking back to his seat.
He shouldn’t be this helpful to you. You two were ‘rivals’ after all—something you both silently yet mutually agreed on. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help himself. Even the sight of your tear filled eyes managed to make him feel a bit hurt.
He probably wasn’t even the cause of it, yet he felt like he was.
“How do you do it?” You asked, catching him off guard. He looked up from his phone and at the back of your head because you refused to face him in such a vulnerable state.
“Do what? Oh, the work? Hold on, let me—”
“Not that.” You said, interrupting him as he halted in his tracks.
“…Then what?” He asked hesitantly. He genuinely had no clue what you meant. Either Jungwon couldn’t read between the lines, or he was just too stupid.
“How do I be like you?”
RANK SIX.
Jungwon stood in silence, stunned at your sudden question. He was never asked such a thing from someone like you.
Children were always the one to ask him that exact question, which only left him with one possible answer every time.
“You’re already like me. Smart and strong.”
It was very cringey, but every child felt confident after hearing his words. Still, you were nowhere near a child, so how could he respond to your question?
“What do you mean?” Was all he could think of. He didn’t want you to seem weak or anything, so he kept it simple and short.
Maybe an elaboration would help him with an answer next time.
“You’re so… perfect. All staff members and students adore you, or even look up to you. You always balance your time, making enough space to hangout with your friends and study at the same time. You’re athletic, smart, most likely a great son, and your parents are probably so proud of you for maintaining the top student rank continuously.” You ranted, leaving him flattered and quite flustered but confused at the same time.
“Perfect?” He asked, genuinely curious about what made you think that.
“Yes, you’re so perfect. I’m jealous of you.” You added, finishing off your sentence while turning to face him.
“You’re jealous of me?”
Truly, in Jungwon’s eyes there was nothing about him to be jealous of. He had his own ups and downs, but managed to keep his composure around his friends and many others.
“Honestly, (Name), you’re fine the way you are. Yes, you have some unhealthy habits, but that doesn’t mean they can’t change.” Jungwon said while walking towards the seat in front of you.
“I wouldn’t say I’m perfect either. Of course, I’m going to sound a bit cringey, but all of us have things we don’t show. Like, I could’ve cried on my way to class.”
“Did you?”
“Did I do what?” Jungwon asked while taking a seat.
“Oh. No, that was just an example. I would never cry where people could see or hear.”
His eyes slightly widened as he raised his hands up in defence.
“I didn’t mean you shouldn’t! Do whatever you feel comfortable with.” He said, hoping he didn’t offend you.
You used your sleeves to wipe away the few tears that managed to fall, then looked at the boy in front of you.
“I don’t know why I’m about to tell you this, but I really need to get it off my chest.”
“Go on,” Jungwon said in a soft voice.
Although he waited for you to speak, you hesitated. Could you even trust him? You two started off as rivals, and still were rivals, but didn’t show it as much.
Whatever, speaking your mind wouldn’t hurt.
“Honestly, it’s not that I need to be on top of my work for my parents to adore me, they do. They very much do and show it every day, but it’s me who thinks it is not enough.” You said.
“I believe if I’m distracted, I won’t be able to achieve my academic goals to the fullest, you know?”
Jungwon nodded even if he didn’t get what you meant. He understood achieving your academic goals, but not to the point where he couldn’t do so if he were distracted.
“I mean, yeah, but considering eating meals or taking breaks as a distraction isn’t good for your mental health—or your health in general,” Jungwon explained as your eyes narrowed.
“Are you scolding me right now?”
“Quite literally.”
You rolled your eyes at Jungwon’s words, waving them off as if they meant nothing.
“Pretend this didn’t happen. Tell anyone, and I’ll make sure your life in Earl View Academy is almost unbearable.” You threatened, sending daggers at the boy.
“How so?” He asked, curious as to what tricks you could pull.
“I’ll beat you on every test, I’ll beat you on the final exam, and even make sure you don’t get accepted into University of Seoul.”
“Okay… However, in return, you have to at the very least tell me what you’re allergic to.” Jungwon said with pleading eyes.
You were shocked that was all he wanted in return. He really wanted to know what you were allergic to, but why? What good would that bring him if he knew what you could and couldn’t eat?
“Why are you so curious about that?”
“Dude, you really want me to end up killing you?” His words sounded like he was joking, but he wasn’t.
“No… I could just eat what I know I can and what I know I can’t.”
Jungwon continued to stare at you, waiting for you to give him the actual answer he wanted. You sighed and gave into his silent begs.
“There’s nothing.”
He remained quiet, his head tilting like a lost cat.
“There’s nothing that I’m allergic to. I’ll eat anything.” You informed the boy as he held back a smile.
“Perfect.” He whispered before grabbing the notebook he gave you earlier.
“What do you mean by perfect?” You asked, causing Jungwon to glance at you with a slight smile on his lips.
“You’ll see.”
RANK SEVEN.
To be honest, yesterday you went home wondering what Jungwon was hinting at.
He pretended as if he had never brought up anything and proceeded to teach you today’s materials. It was annoying.
Yes, you wanted to know badly, but begging wouldn’t even get him to tell you anything.
You adjusted your name tag while looking in the mirror, wondering what else you should fix up.
There was 5 minutes before you had to leave for school. Five minutes before you would get to see Jungwon.
You had no clue why you were a bit excited to see him. Usually, you never were. It was weird.
Part of you was glad he listened to what you had to say yesterday, it felt nice to get it off your chest. However, the other part of you felt ecstatic and let your heart thump even at the thought of seeing the boy.
What happened to the part of you that deeply hated him?
You couldn’t start liking Jungwon. At least, not when there was a possibility that he still hated you or saw you like his competition.
Right?
Jungwon stretched his limbs before reaching down to tie his laces. It had been a while since he ran around the track in the morning. He wanted to see if he still had it in him.
He couldn’t let his stamina fall because of his so-called continuous studying habits. It was also a great way to get his mind off of things, for example, you.
After yesterday’s conversation, for some reason he felt terrible about what you said. Was it his fault? No. But obviously, there was a time and place where he was in the same boat as you.
Trust him, it wasn’t the best.
This morning, he woke up extra earlier than usual because he had a lot to do—cook. He hand picked a recipe he believed you both would enjoy, and cooked all morning so it was nice and fresh by lunch.
It was way better than constantly getting snacks from the vending machine. Now, you could actually gain nutrients while eating.
He was very excited.
But why? Why was he excited to share a meal with you? There wasn’t anything going on between, aside from your quiet studying times halfway through lunch, the conversation from yesterday, and the times you two have been paired up or went head-to-head in class.
Other than that, what was there to really be excited about?
Jungwon slowed down his pace, then leaned over while placing his hands on his knees to catch his breath.
Or was he just excited to see you? What was the meaning of all this?
Were you the reason his heart raced as if he did his morning runs whenever he was in class? Were you the reason he was always planning what he wanted to buy the two of you on his way to school? He rarely ever did that when you didn’t attend Earl View Academy.
So, were you really the reason?
You took a seat at your desk, pulling out your studying equipment—a normal routine of yours. You always arrived at the same time, 7:30 AM, with Jungwon arriving a little after.
Shockingly, even with 5 minutes passing, he didn’t appear. That was odd, he was always on time.
You shook your head, brushing off the fact he hadn’t arrived yet. The things he taught you yesterday were the only materials you had to review this morning.
You couldn’t fall behind so easily.
When you went home, you decided to take a break. A was a rare sight since you were always studying all night and all morning, nobody could stop you.
But for some reason, Jungwon was able to change part of your ‘unhealthy’ studying habits. At your old school, it was impossible for that to happen. Not even your short-term friendships changed anything.
It was the same old ‘Book of Rules’ you followed with no updates.
The door slid open, showcasing an exhausted Jungwon. He walked over to the seat in front of you and placed the two snacks in an empty spot on your desk then took a seat.
It wasn’t at his actual desk, instead, it was the one in front of you.
“Why do you seem so tired?” You asked, noticing his droopy eyes.
“I ran around the track today. It’s been a while since I’ve done it, so I guess I pushed my limits.” He explained while yawning. He stretched his arms before examining your desk; there was a partially empty space at the edge of your desk.
It looked like it could fit most of his arms and head.
“Can I?” He questioned while gesturing at the spot from earlier. You nodded, not giving him any other reaction.
Your heart was already racing from the ‘close’ proximity he provided. You had to keep it lowkey.
“Thanks. Wake me up a few minutes before the bell.” He said and dozed off to dreamland.
The classroom fell silent, the only thing being heard was the rustling leaves from the wind that travelled through the sky, your pencil gliding on the piece of paper you wrote on, sounding like music to Jungwon’s ears.
It was a relaxing sound. Not even close to irritating.
There were moments where you snuck in a few glances, noticing the way his face looked peaceful and less irritating than when he was wide awake. His breathing was at a usual pace as his back rose and fell at his command.
He was quite the pretty sleeper.
The formula of your work suddenly started to not make any sense. You searched the article you were looking at, realisation only hitting you a bit after.
You were working on your English, not Math. No wonder your formulas weren’t making any sense. Clearly, with how close Jungwon was to you, it was obvious you couldn’t think straight.
How often did someone mix up English work with Mathematics? It was never that often, and yet, you still managed to make the mistake.
You picked up your highlighter, forgetting about the embarrassing situation from earlier, and began highlighting simple concepts that you would need to remember when answering the questions.
Without you knowing, 30 minutes of silence passed between the two of you. You were surprised he didn’t wake up from the sound of your beating heart, because to you, it was quite loud.
You hesitated on waking up the boy in front of you. He was sound asleep. What if he woke up cranky?
Still, he requested for you to wake him up a few minutes before the bell. He wouldn’t be mad if you did so, right?
You softly placed your hand on his shoulder and gently shook him at a slow pace. There wasn’t much momentum, however, it was still enough to wake him up.
His eyes slowly opened, eyeing the area he sat in.
He could barely see, eyes still blurred with his sleepiness. Jungwon blinked a few times before looking in front of him, spotting your shocked figure.
“Morning.” He mumbled, his words cutting short because of a yawn. He stretched his arms before looking over at the clock.
It was only 8:20 AM. It always shocked you how students weren’t filling up the classroom around this time. They always arrived at least 5 minutes before the bell. Even if it was shocking, it was quite satisfying how everyone was still on time.
“What’re you working on?” Jungwon asked, slightly curious about the reason you held a highlighter.
“English,” you muttered. He hummed at your words and continued to inspect your desk.
“You didn’t eat?” He asked, pointing at the neatly kept snacks. It looked the same as when he first gave you them.
You shook your head. You completely forgot about the snacks. Instead, you were more focused on calming your racing heart, so it wouldn’t have woken him up.
“Eat. At least three pieces before the lesson starts.” He said. The snacks he brought the both of you were a small packet of animal crackers. One of Jungwon’s favourites as a child.
You paused for a moment, debating if you should follow through with his request. He was staring at you, once again, causing you to feel fragile under his gaze. There was no way he would stop if you didn’t eat.
You placed your highlighter down and grabbed one of the two packets. Hopefully, that would help his strong state.
Honestly, you couldn’t help but feel taken care of because of Jungwon’s acts. Your parents were amazing to you. There was no doubt about it. Still, with Jungwon, there was a new feeling you’ve never felt with anyone else.
At your old school, you wouldn’t even have a chance at something like this. If you fainted, there was only a tiny bit of shock from others. It happened very often because of your bad habits that it became so natural to those who studied and worked there.
But if you were to faint around Jungwon or anyone else in this school, they would be very worried. The nurse at Earl View Academy even instructed Jungwon to watch over your eating habits.
At first, you didn’t like the idea of having a so-called babysitter, but eventually it felt nice to know someone possibly cared about you. He started off as your number one threat, and became the person you looked forward to seeing most.
To him, you started off as someone he could never trust and his one and only arch nemesis, and became the person he watched over and enjoyed being around.
Well, look how the tables turned.
“Also,” Jungwon said, chiming into your thoughts. Your attention was then focused onto the boy who stood up from his previous seat with his animal crackers in hold.
“You’re doing great.” He said as the bell rang as if it were completing his sentence.
He sat in his assigned seat at the window while students began filling up the classroom. Maybe they were a little delayed today, but your heart for sure wasn’t.
You were concerned as to why Jungwon’s words had such an effect on your wellbeing, judging from how fast your heart rate was going.
You didn’t even know it was possible to experience such a rush of adrenaline. Your face felt warm as you recalled his words.
Was he perhaps referring to yesterday’s incident?
No matter what the reason was, you’ve never been told something like that. It was always about taking a break and slowing your pace. Even mentioning how you were trying too hard and needed to pay more attention to yourself.
But the words ‘you’re doing great’ were different. It felt like they were filling a void in your life that you didn’t even know existed.
Whatever it was, you were thankful.
Thankful for Jungwon.
Jungwon watched as the ball ricocheted off the rim of the net, sighing in disappointment.
“Gosh, straighten up.” Baekseung said and tossed the ball back to his friend.
The trio stood inside the empty gymnasium, shooting hoops for fun, until it became serious. Baekseung was quite literally concerned for Jungwon’s wellbeing.
He was missing every one of his shots.
“You do remember he did Track and not Basketball like you, Baek, right?” Minji asked while flipping through the pages of her book.
“I mean, yeah, but he’s never this bad.” Baekseung replied, emphasising his words.
“I’m literally right here.”
“Oh, my bad.”
Minji chuckled at the two, looking away at her book while placing a bookmark between the two pages she stopped on.
“Won, what’s on your mind?” She asked.
Great, here comes round two.
“I swear we didn’t put a bet on anything this time. Feel free to tell us anything.”
Jungwon sighed, letting himself loose. It was now or never. He needed to settle things, so he could peacefully continue along with his day.
So…
“How would you confirm your feelings for someone?”
RANK EIGHT.
Minji blinked her eyes in silence as Baekseung held the basketball in his hand with a dropped jaw.
Judging by their reactions, it was obvious they didn’t know what to say, leaving Jungwon feeling embarrassed.
“Nevermind, forget I said that.”
“No, no.” Minji said, shaking her head.
“We were just… stunned, that’s all.” She reassured Jungwon who’s ears turned a light shade of red out of embarrassment.
“Is this about a particular someone?” Minji questioned, slightly wanting it to be you.
She had been noticing the difference between Jungwon’s behaviour now and the first time you arrived. Nowadays, he was always looking at you with adoration in his eyes instead of an intense glare.
It was definitely different between you two.
“You know who it is, don’t you?” Jungwon asked, judging by her expression. It looked like she was holding off on saying something. She was terrible at hiding her expressions.
“Wait, I’m so confused,” Baekseung chimed in, dropping the basketball and making his way closer to the two.
“It’s (Name), right? The atmosphere between you two is so much different than before.”
Jungwon remained quiet upon Minji’s words. She wasn’t wrong, but she was very observant. Even Jungwon hadn’t noticed the change between you and him.
“Your silence is the only answer we need.” Baekseung said with a sly smile.
What? Who wouldn’t act the same way after finding out his best friend had a crush on someone?
“It is…” Jungwon mumbled.
“Okay. First question is… how do you feel when you’re near her?”
Oh.
Well, that could go a long way… There was at least a list of possible feelings, so where should he even start?
“Tingly. I feel tingly.” He said, recalling the moments he was with you.
To be honest, he was shocked you hadn’t realised how red the tip of his ears were when he fell asleep in front of you. It was almost an impossible process for him to sleep, but he managed.
“Sometimes, my ears become warm and my heart flutters at the sight of her smile or if I were to make her laugh…” He paused, thinking of more things to say.
“And—”
“Yeah, you definitely like her.” Baekseung interrupted with a shock yet disgusted look on his face.
“I do?” Jungwon asked, looking at the boy with wide eyes.
Baekseung nodded, causing him to look over at Minji who only did the same as Baekseung in return.
“Are you ever going to tell her?” Minji asked, opening up her book once again.
“I’d embarrass myself terribly. We’re still kinda rivals in some way. Wouldn’t it be weird if I were to suddenly confess my attraction to her?”
“Okay, Shakespeare, what the hell do you mean by attraction?” Baekseung asked as Minji chuckled.
“He means feelings, Baek.”
“Oh… That makes sense. I say do it, what is there to waste? You only live once.” He explained as Jungwon rolled his eyes.
It was a corny saying he had been told all his life, but they were never wrong. Things always turned out good for him if he at least tried them. Therefore, it wouldn’t hurt to profess his love for you, right?
“Jungwon, it’s 11:30, don’t you have to go now?” Minji questioned after checking the time on her phone.
“Ah, right. Thanks Min, thanks Baek.” He said before smiling at them and leaving.
To be honest, Jungwon was expecting a longer explanation to his feelings, but comparing these moments to a book, it was awfully obvious that he liked you. It must’ve flown past his head the first time.
You stared at the clock, awaiting Jungwon’s arrival. This was the first time you had caught yourself doing something like this. Usually, your head would be stuffed in your notebook right now, but after discovering these possible feelings for the boy you spend lunch with daily, things have changed.
Your habits must’ve been one of them.
There were moments where you glanced at the door, hoping that he would appear after every glance, but he didn’t.
“Sorry.” A voice emitted from the doorway, heavy panting followed through. Your head whipped over, noticing the boy you were waiting for all this time. He looked up from the floor, making straight eye contact with you.
He was subtly sweaty, making it obvious that he ran here. Yes, it was a disgusting look, but to you…
He looked disgustingly handsome. It was odd, very odd, that the look made your heartbeat race. You couldn’t deny it, you definitely liked Jungwon.
“You’re late.” You said in a teasing tone. You could care less if he was late or not, but it was fun to joke around with him.
“I’m aware.” Jungwon joked back while walking towards his seat.
“Are you hungry?” He asked while reaching into his backpack. You stayed silent, not sure how to answer that question.
“Be honest.” He said in a serious tone and grabbed the meal he cooked this morning.
“A little bit.” You replied as he took a seat in front of you. You eyed the containers he placed on the empty space, causing you to move your notebooks aside to create more.
He opened the containers one-by-one, leaving you stunned with every single meal. Once he was left with one container, he looked up to see your reaction, smiling at your childish look.
“Does it look good?”
His question brought you out of your trance, causing you to straighten up immediately.
“Yes. It looks great.” You said as Jungwon chuckled at your response. You observed the 3 containers, noticing the different aspects of each; one had greens while the others didn’t.
“Oh, I wasn’t sure if you liked greens, so I separated them just in case.” He explained while pointing at the container you stared at.
You nodded at his words and hummed in amusement. Maybe you were only a tad bit hungry before, but now, you were starving.
“You don’t have to wait for me, you can eat.” Jungwon said, gesturing at the meal in front of you two.
You looked at him once then down at the utensils, hesitantly reaching for a spoon. Jungwon picked up on this and grabbed your hand, flipping it over while grabbing the spoon that laid on the napkin. He then placed it into the palm of your hand and looked into your eyes.
“Don’t hesitate, it’s fine.” Jungwon said and flashed you a smile, his dimples catching your eyes immediately.
Well, maybe you weren’t hesitating on eating anymore, but you were definitely still hesitant about something…
Confessing your feelings to the boy before you.
Yeah, that could wait.
RANK NINE.
Two days ago, Jungwon had a talk with his two friends. He was reassured about his feelings for you, finalising them to a certain extent.
Today, he claimed he was ready to confess. He wouldn’t back away from doing so, and plus, there ‘wasn’t’ much time until graduation (it was 7 months away).
Of course, it was a lie. He had to make an excuse to be able to push himself to tell you how he really felt.
You, on the other hand, thought the same. But, you weren’t sure how you would approach him in a way where it wouldn’t be as awkward as you imagined.
Still, that would have to wait for the perfect time today. You couldn’t mess this up.
As your teacher spoke, your head became drowsy. Your notes seemed messy due to your eyesight blurring and nothing was comprehendible.
You shook your head, an attempt to regain your composure, but that didn’t work either.
“Okay, everyone. I’ll leave the rest of this period for individual work time.” Your teacher said even if there was only 5 minutes before lunch.
“Soccer today?” Baekseung asked Jungwon who wrote in his notebook.
He nodded at his friend’s request, causing the boy to smile. It had been a while since they went to play soccer and not basketball, so it would be quite fun to reminisce about the past.
The bell went, making 5 minutes feel like 30 seconds. To others it must’ve felt long, but to you, it felt short. You couldn’t focus on anything around you, not even the time. The throbbing headache that made its way into your system, as well as the nauseating feeling was all that occupied your mind.
Nothing else.
Not even the fact Jungwon was standing beside you right now.
“You alright?” He asked. You looked up at him, your head spinning at the movement. It was quiet in the classroom, hinting at the fact there was practically nobody left aside from the two of you.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Lies. You were far from feeling ‘fine’. However, you couldn’t let him worry as much as he did about your eating habits.
You managed to flash him a convincing smile as he did the same. The gentle pat on your head before leaving felt comforting knowing it was from Jungwon and no one else.
“I’ll be back.” He said as he walked out the classroom, leaving you alone in silence.
You weren’t able to tell if the heat that crept up your neck was from his subtle action, or the developing fever that made its way towards you. Honestly, you could care less. It wouldn’t stop you from studying anyway.
And, well, maybe preparing your confession for the said boy.
The mesh of the net ricocheted as the ball glided against the barrier. The goalie was on the floor, the outcome of his failed attempt at blocking the ball.
“It’s okay! That was a good try.” A teammate reassured while helping the male up on his feet.
Once the ball was thrown into play, Baekseung scanned the area, searching for an open target to send the ball to. Teamwork was all that mattered when playing sports, so, why not include everyone even if he could shoot the ball himself?
You looked out the window, noticing the view of the many boys who kicked around a soccer ball. It wasn’t the best view, but you were still able to see a few faces—Jungwon’s especially.
Most of you wanted to get a closer look. It would be nice to take a short break from studying, right? It couldn’t hurt your academics that much…
You rose from your seat, head spinning once again. It was unbearable, but you’ve experienced worse.
See, you’ve definitely experienced worse. So, why were you on the verge of passing out, once again?
You stood in front of the window sill Jungwon’s friend, Baekseung, would always sit on. Your grip tightened the ledge, losing balance in your legs. Your vision became even blurry than before as your mind became foggy.
Yeah, you were definitely about to knock out cold. There was no way you would manage to stay conscious.
A moment after coming to terms with the fact you were about to faint, your body hit the floor, leaving the space between two desks occupied.
Your eyes were slowly closing as the warmth of a hand was placed on your face. Ears ringing, making anything that person said incoherent.
It was a terrible feeling. Maybe you should’ve gone to the nurse’s office at the beginning of your fever.
Yeah… Maybe.
“It’s 11:30, I have to go.” Jungwon said after checking the time on his watch. He waved goodbye to those he played with on the field, then looked at the classroom window, a smile making its way to his face.
Now it was time for 30 minutes with you.
But where were you? He scanned the empty classroom, yet you were nowhere to be found. Your stuff wasn't there either.
You weren’t there.
He was confused. You never left your seat, no matter the reason. So, where could you have gone?
Jungwon had no clue where he was going, letting his feet take him wherever. Suddenly, he was in front of the nurse’s office. Not even he knew why he was here.
Without hesitation, he slid open the door, a wave of nostalgia hitting him. Except, you weren’t in his arms like before.
“Oh, Jungwon. What brings you here?” Mrs. Oh greets almost immediately. That was a great question.
What brought him here?
“I’m not sure.” Jungwon said, not knowing what else to say. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know.
“What do you mean?” She questioned, confused. That was the first time she received an answer like his.
The boy stared at the nurse in silence. It was awkward for her, but not for him.
Seriously, why was he brought here?
“Is… Is (Name) here?” He asked. Part of him regretted letting his so-called question slip out while the other part hoped you were here.
Other than that, he wouldn’t have any other ideas about where you could possibly be right now.
“Oh, yes, she is. Were you looking for her?” Mrs. Oh questioned, a slight smile plastered on her face.
Jungwon nodded, not wanting to say anything else. He already embarrassed himself enough.
He followed the direction the nurse pointed in, heading to where you were supposedly lying down.
“Apparently, she fainted in class again. One of your classmates brought her over… Turns out she had a raging fever.”
So, he wasn’t hallucinating the pained expression you gave him at the start of lunch.
At the sounds of his footsteps, you turned around fast, pretending to be asleep.
“I saw you.” Jungwon said, pulling your curtains aside.
“Nice try.” He took a seat beside you as you bit your bottom lip, eyes squinting in defeat.
“Are you feeling better?”
You turned around at his words to face him. The damped cloth that rested on your forehead slowly slipped off, causing him to catch it.
“A little bit.” You said as he adjusted the cloth.
You weren’t lying about it being a little bit. At least you were now able to move.
“Did you take medication?”
You nodded, noticing the fact he was only going to continue asking questions about your wellbeing.
“I heard you fainted… Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, the worry finally sinking in.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I got up to look out the window, but I guess I overestimated my ability.” You said with a light laugh.
“Why would you get up to look out the window if you were already feeling unwell?” He asked with furrowed brows.
It was only common sense, you should’ve made your way to the nurse's office. Not somewhere to admire scenery.
“Are you lecturing me, again?” You asked, referring to the conversation in the classroom from a while ago.
“Yes. You need to take care of yourself more.”
“But if I said I was trying to watch you play soccer, then what?”
Jungwon felt his heart skip a beat.
Okay. Maybe you got him there.
“T-That doesn’t matter. Your health comes first.” He mentally cursed at himself for stuttering. Your words must’ve taken a toll on him.
“You’re boring.” You said before looking away from the boy.
To be honest, this would be the best time to confess, right?
Mrs. Oh had left the office a while ago, meaning it was just the two of you left alone.
When would Jungwon ever get another opportunity like this one?
“Listen,” he started, gaining your attention all over again. You look over at him, waiting for him to continue his sentence.
“I know grades are important, but your health is too. Please prioritise your health as well, okay?” Jungwon paused, hesitating with his next words.
It was now or never.
“I don't want to fall in love with a corpse. It’ll be better if it were just you.”
You stared at the boy, stunned. You couldn’t tell if your temperature was rising or you were flustered by his sudden confession.
An awkward silence followed through, as he felt his heart sink.
Did he just mess everything up?
“Anyways… have you drank anything yet?” Jungwon asked, switching the topic really fast.
“No…” You whispered.
He nodded his head, pursing his lips and patted his thighs.
“Okay. I’ll go get you something.” He said before rising up from his seat and leaving quite fast.
You felt bad. If it were a confession, you just left him hanging.
Jungwon pushed the buttons on the vending machine with pressure. He was embarrassed.
Very embarrassed.
He didn’t want to show himself in that room ever again. The atmosphere was definitely still the same as before—awkward and unbearable.
Maybe he shouldn’t have taken his friend's advice. He could’ve saved himself from experiencing this sort of regret.
The sound of the juice boxes falling from their designated spots caught Jungwon’s attention. He whined at the sound, not wanting to go back at all.
Still, he couldn’t keep you waiting.
His plan of pretending nothing happened was now set in motion. It wouldn’t be that hard to forget the previous interaction, right?
“I hope you like orange juice—”
“Was that a confession earlier or was I going crazy?”
So much for pretending nothing happened.
He stumbled in his tracks, he was nowhere near your bed yet.
“Was it?” You asked, quite literally pestering a response from him.
Jungwon mumbled something to himself. Something along the lines of hoping he doesn’t mess things up further.
“Yes, it was.” He said, a heavy sigh following through.
Although his sigh sounded stressed, yours sounded relieved.
“Oh, that’s good. I thought I was the only one.” You said, causing Jungwon to make his way to your bed even faster.
“What do you mean?” He asked, his hands carrying the juice boxes and a confused expression on his face.
“Is it not obvious?” You asked, but he remained still.
Clearly, it wasn’t.
You sighed, disappointed that he couldn’t read between the lines with that brain of his.
“I like you too, Jungwon.”
RANK TEN.
“It really happened?!” Baekseung exclaimed, shocked. Jungwon covered his mouth with a hand, not wanting the whole world to hear about yesterday’s interaction.
“Then what?” Minji asked.
“It’s a secret.” Jungwon said with a teasing smile. Minji rolled her eyes at his response. It definitely wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
The classroom door slid open, gaining his attention quickly. You walked into the classroom, holding your books to your chest.
A smile of adoration made its way to Jungwon’s face as you looked over at him, smiling.
Minji observed the interaction with curious eyes.
“What the hell? Never do that again, please.” Baekseung said, removing Jungwon’s hand from his mouth.
“Wait so… Are you guys, well, dating now?” Minji asked.
“Woah, no.” He said, raising his hands up in defence.
“So, you guys just confessed to each other and that was all?” She asked in a more hushed tone since you arrived.
Jungwon nodded.
Minji was about to say something else, but the bell rang, cutting her off before she could even start. The teacher walked in, addressing everyone to return to their seats.
You smiled to yourself and pulled out your phone to send the boy a text.
“Nice one.” It read with a smiley emoji.
Jungwon’s phone dinged, causing him to look at it. A smile made its way to his face as he read the message.
He was lying to his friends the whole time. Yes, that was bad to do, but it was the best way of keeping your official relationship with each other a secret.
They could know you two confessed to each other, but not that you were dating.
To be honest, Jungwon never saw this coming. He always thought you would be someone he hated because he never knew it was possible to meet somebody who was at his level.
He truly thought he was dreaming when he first saw you and learned about that information.
But right now, he was thankful he wasn’t and was thankful that you were someone who he fell in love with.
Ξ ©HAKNOM, 2024
#📋 — tmbmd#k-films#k-labels#kpop fluff#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#enhypen fluff#yang jungwon fluff#jungwon x reader#yang jungwon x reader#jungwon#yang jungwon#yang jungwon angst#jungwon angst#jungwon fluff#jungwon enha#enha jungwon#enha#enha fluff#jungwon enhypen#enhypen jungwon#jungwon imagines#jungwon headcanons#jungwon scenarios#enhypen angst#enha angst#enha imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fic
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And Then It Was [ZCL] (M)
Description: After your marriage with Chenle was arranged by your parents for a company merger, things with him aren't quite like you expect. In your life full of obligations, he's determined to finally give you the ability to make your own choices.
Genre: Smut/Fluff/Angst (arranged marriage!au, rich families using their children as business mergers yk)
Content Warnings: Rich, generational family trauma, family secrets, reader in her men suck era, explicit, protected sex, mentions of pregnancy (no actual pregnancy in the fic), reader feels obligated to have children, explicit, unprotected sex, use of the pet names 'baby' and 'darling', dirty talk, oral (f receiving)
Word Count: 28.2k
Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!Reader (features Jeno, Jisung, Jaemin, and Mark, but mostly Jeno and Jisung! (sorry idk where Renjun and Haechan are in this fic?????))
A/N: Y'all tumblr really f'in hates me because it was so difficult to format this fic? like it did not want to let me put the whole thing on here. So if the last section is oddly formatted, that's why and I'msosorry :'( (p.s. thank you so much for 700 followers!!!)
Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :)
Taglist: @midmourn @nominsgirl @winwinscvnt @bugcattie @sleepyvic @chenlesfeetpic @tolerable-tears @yutaswh0re @bitchzitschimi @velvtcherie @leefullsun @pnkified @valerieluvsyu @defzcl
Chenle’s hand grips yours loosely, resting between the two of you right on the crack between the couch cushions. All of this is a formality, down to the smile plastered on your face. It started out simple, like something out of a movie, honestly, but even movies have to roll the end credits at some point.
“So, tell us the story of how you met,” the interviewer begins, crossing her legs as she looks at you in complete interest.
“We’ve known each other for ages,” Chenle says.
Lie. You’ve known of each other for ages. You’re only here with an oversized ring on your finger to complete your family’s merger with Chenle’s. What big news that was, two heirs of two of the biggest companies around the world falling in love. If only that were true in the slightest.
“Wow, way to make it sound romantic.” You laugh, reaching across to push his arm—gently, of course. “He makes it so lackluster. But to be completely transparent, it wasn’t…anything crazy. We did meet years ago, and we’ve been friends since then. Gosh, probably since we were sixteen?”
“Fifteen,” Chenle corrects you and sends an award winning smile your way. You’d be inclined to believe him if everything wasn’t scripted.
“He always has been a little more detail-oriented than me.”
The interview drags. You and Chenle were officially married just over a month ago, and while you know it’s your owed duty to your family, you wish optics weren’t so important. After all, legally binding yourself to secure a company was one thing, but physically binding yourself to a man you barely know? You wouldn’t dream of it. Even holding his hand feels odd, not to mention his palms are sweaty.
Your honeymoon had ended shortly before the interview. You’d been gone for four weeks, and it was the last bit of privacy you’d have when it comes to your ‘relationship’ with Chenle. You got to know him enough to where you’d be comfortable sharing an oversized house with him, but there were still a lot of mysteries between you two—mysteries you were sure would never get solved. There are a lot of good things about Chenle. He’s smarter than most people you’ve met, he knows how to make jokes and take them, he’s nice to look at, to hold a conversation with, but you don’t love him. You’d been of the mind that you wanted to marry for love since you were young, but some things are overshadowed by your duties. By money.
“There aren’t many people in this world that don’t just…immediately bow down to powerful men. It was…interesting to say the least, because throughout my entire life I’d always just been given respect. From the moment I met (Y/N), I knew I’d have to work for it. For her respect, I mean. She’s just as confident and much more intelligent than any other man I’ve ever worked with.” Chenle squeezes your hand.
That wasn’t in the script. It’s almost enough to have you break character and forget your next line. “Is that so?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he chuckles.
“Tried and true,” he replies with ease. “You really are extraordinary, you know.”
Can’t script a blush rising to your cheeks. It’s something about the way he makes direct eye contact with you that has your face burning.
Grinning, he turns back to the interviewer. “I have a lot of things to be grateful for in life. Truly, I do. I’m very fortunate for all of the good my family has done for me and for having things set up for me from the start. One thing I never could’ve imagined was that it could get better. Meeting her changed my life, and if I had to, I’d give everything else to keep her next to me.”
That time, your smile does fall, but you quickly catch yourself. Your heart picks up its pace in your chest, but you know it’s all part of the script. It has to be. He’d never give up his money, his family, his lifestyle for something as simple as you. You desperately want to pull your hand away, but you’ll wait until the cameras stop rolling.
As soon as you and Chenle are behind the tinted windows of his car, you drop his hand and scoot all the way over to have some semblance of peace. None of this truly makes sense to you. You’re much too young to be worried about your marriage to another person equally as young as you, yet you can’t help but mull over each word that left his mouth today.
“Are you alright?” he asks.
“Of course.” You pull your phone out of your purse and scroll through your social media with a sigh.
The driver pulls away from the spot, and after a few minutes, you look over to find Chenle watching you.
“What?”
“Is that it?” He clasps his hands together in his lap.
You scoff. “Oh, I’m sorry. Are we to keep acting while we’re alone, too? It’s exhausting.”
“You don’t even want to…try to keep getting to know each other? You’re just done?” He pauses, tongue wetting his lips. “We’re here for the long haul, (Y/N). We signed a legally binding contract. Divorce isn’t an option ever. We may as well try and—”
“All due respect, Chenle, I’d rather not know you. What happens if I do, and then I hate everything about you? Ignorance is bliss. Why risk hating you when I can just tolerate you instead?”
“Is it the hate you don’t want to risk?” His question catches you off guard, the confidence laced in his tone sending sparks of irritation through you.
“Are you insinuating that you think I could fall in love with you?”
“There’s no insinuation. I’ll tell you with full certainty that you would.” Chenle’s dark eyes narrow, and he shifts in his seat. “You fear failure. But a marriage failure would be easier if you’re not in love, right? No feelings to cloud your logical judgment.”
“For such a smart man, that was an incredibly stupid statement.” You scoff, setting your phone in your lap. “This is a job, not a marriage.”
“Not according to our sealed certificate.”
“Burn it for all I care. I’m not here for you. I’m here for my family, so I could’ve been married off to anyone. Don’t think that means I’ll allow you to control me. What’s mine is still mine. If I choose to see someone outside the marriage, that’s my own choice.”
“Ah.” He inhales slowly. “You’re already in love.”
“Wrong again.”
“Then why is that the first thing you say?”
“Because I have a duty to you. An obligation. But that does not mean you’re obligated to my heart.” You look straight forward, refusing to acknowledge the heat of his stare boring into your side.
“At least make sure you’re using protection.” He clicks his tongue.
“That was also in the contract. Didn’t you read it?” You tap your foot. “‘Extramarital relations require usage of effective birth control methods, and I may not bear another man’s child.’”
“I’m sorry, what?” He gapes at you. “Are you serious right now?”
When you laugh, his eyebrows furrow deeply.
“What’s funny?”
“No, no, I just forgot. You’re the man. You’re expected to stray from the marriage because you obviously don’t have everything life can offer. It’s okay for you to get someone else pregnant because you don’t have to physically have the child. Ridiculous.”
“And you think that’s my intention? Seriously?”
“It’s an expectation in every arranged marriage, I assume.” You cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t care what you do, Chenle. Just act like you respect me at least.”
“Okay, now hold on.” He scratches his forehead, his thought process basically written out across his face. “You were the one that mentioned extramarital relationships. I was never going to suggest it because I’d never do something like that. I don’t care what our…relationship is like, it’s still a marriage. You’re my wife, whether we like it or not, and I’m not going to do anything that would undermine you or the legacy you’ve already created. Regardless of what you believe, I do respect you. Honestly.”
“I…” you trail off, swallowing roughly. “I’d prefer silence for the rest of the drive.”
Chenle runs his tongue over his teeth, but he nods.
“Do we have to share a room?” you ask as you take your earrings out. Placing them on the vanity in front of you, you stare at Chenle through the mirror, watching as he removes his suit jacket and tie.
“We don’t have to do anything.” Chenle shakes his head and untucks his shirt from his pants. “If that’s what you want, I’ll stay in another room.”
“What?” You frown. “This is your house. You should keep the master bedroom.”
“Stop thinking like that,” he says, working on his buttons. “It’s yours now, too.”
He stops halfway down, grabbing his shirt and sweatpants to change into.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” His voice seems different, almost cold. Distant.
“Chenle,” you call out, turning in your chair to face him directly.
He sighs, stops, and looks back at you. “Yeah?”
“Before you go, can we…get something out of the way?”
“More things.” He presses his lips together in a thin line, but eventually nods and takes a few steps closer. “By all means.”
This time, it’s your palms that are sweating. You grip the armrest and flounder for the words you want to say. It’s rare for you to get flustered or shy with anyone, so acting this way in front of him has heat rising to your cheeks.
“We’re expected to have children,” you finally spit out. “Heirs. We carry two legacies on our backs.”
He shifts on his feet, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he glances away from you. “This is what you want to get out of the way?”
“I…I just think it’s a good idea for us to put our…expectations out there early.”
“About sex or babies?”
“The only reason we’d ever…is to have babies.” You try to maintain your strong facade, but the conversation makes you more nervous than you’d care to admit.
“Right, because thinking that you’re sleeping with me out of obligation is incredibly sexy.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “We don’t even have to have sex to get you pregnant, you know. There are other options. Do you even actually want children? Or is that purely out of obligation as well?”
“Everything I do is out of obligation.”
“Not anymore.” He walks closer, resting his hand on the edge of the vanity. “You’re my wife now. You do what you want, and you do it for you. No one else. Understood?”
You stand up, obliterating the minuscule distance between the two of you. Your chest almost brushes his, and you’re nearly distracted by his half-unbuttoned shirt. Tilting your head, you scan over his face.
“You’re saying there’s not anything you want from me?”
“Wanting and demanding are two very different things.” He doesn’t back down, his impenetrable gaze locked on yours.
“And what is it that you want?”
“For someone who doesn’t care, you sure are inquisitive,” Chenle remarks.
“Don’t let my level of interest stop you.”
His eyes narrow. “How long have we known each other?”
“I can tell you our first real conversation was just over six months ago. We were informed of this…situation.” You sigh. “Why?”
“I was relieved to find out it was you.” He gulps. “To know that you are someone I’m…attracted to. That we could maybe one day have something real in the wake of this…joke of an arrangement.”
“Relieved?”
“Yes.” He nods without hesitation. “And that is what I want. A real life, real love, real family. And while everything else may not be ideal, I’d never force you to give me any of those things. As I’ve said, you’re free to make your own choices. Whether they include me or not.”
His voice is soft, barely carrying over to you from his spot mere inches away. Your heart pounds in your chest from his proximity, his words, him. You don’t want to risk anything, and the consequences far outweigh the rewards of a relationship like this.
“Good.” You nod. “I’ll remember that.”
“I expect nothing less.” He takes a step back, unintentionally shattering the tension between the two of you. “Have a good night, (Y/N).”
But for some reason, once he closes the door behind him and leaves you alone in this giant, extravagant bedroom, you truly wonder what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into.
“I mean, is that a bad thing?” Jisung’s voice carries through the phone, shuffling around with documents in the background.
Your cousin always did have trouble seeing things from your side. You sigh. “It is a bad thing. Why can’t he just be a normal man? I’m not going to beg anyone to impregnate me, if that’s what he’s waiting for—”
“(Y/N),” he says, tone laced with disbelief. “After that whole conversation, that’s what you got out of that? That he wants you to beg him?”
“What else am I supposed to get?” Crossing your arms over your chest, you study yourself in the mirror. Despite the stress as of late, you still seem miraculously put together.
“That he actually cares about you. And wants something real.”
“Then his family picked his wife incorrectly,” you insist. “I’m here because I was told to be. And why risk a lifetime of unhappiness and hate when we could just…tolerate each other?”
“Not everything has to be—”
“You were supposed to be on my side for this.” Your chest deflates, and you put him on speaker to apply your lipstick and put your earrings in.
“I’m always on your side, even if you think I’m not. I’ve met Chenle, too. You could’ve been much worse off for a company merger.”
“Right, so I should be grateful?” You snort. “Grateful that my husband doesn’t want to have—”
“Insufferable,” your cousin cuts you off. “You’re insufferable. The whole world is not out to get you. In the position you’re in, you need every single ally you can get. Chenle especially. He’s one of the most powerful men in the country. Imagine what that could do for you.”
“Yes, because powerful men are so enticing for me.” You roll your eyes.
“You don’t have to love him. Nobody expects that of you, but you can at least be friends with him.” Jisung clicks his tongue. “Give him a shot, okay? He’s not an asshole, and from what you’ve told me, he seems to be trying with you.”
You tap your fingers on the vanity. “I have a business meeting with him and his board. Guess I’ll see you in a few.”
“That you will. Talk to you soon.”
As the line cuts, you head out of Chenle’s—your—room, and head down the hall and out the door. Today is a new day, and the first way to present your dominance to your husband is to talk business. You’ve always been good at keeping your composure. While the buildings for your family’s company and Chenle’s were on opposite sides of town, the merger gave you unlimited access to both. Chenle was his own respective CEO, while your father still held the technical title at yours.
COO had been sitting in your pocket for years, and your father told you the only way he’d relinquish his CEO title onto you is if you married. And produced an heir without any public miscommunication. Essentially, your heir would, under no uncertain circumstances, be conceived and birthed in a conventional way.
You’re the last one to arrive in the conference room. The walls are mostly windows, overlooking the bustling city below you. You inhale deeply at the sight, and Chenle looks up at you, standing as soon as he finds you in the room. The rest of the board follows suit, and you almost scowl at the realization that the only open seat is right next to your husband. You don’t recognize any of them since this is solely for Chenle, but he insisted you were to be included on all business discussions from the moment you were married.
You stand next to Chenle, staring down at the five men around you. “Sit. Standing on my behalf is a waste of time.”
All of them listen to you, Chenle included, leaving you the lone pillar in a room full of money.
“Thank you for waiting for me.”
You don’t ever apologize for being late. Some things are out of your control. Sitting, you move your chair closer to the table. Chenle leans in, close enough for his lips to brush your ear. “I told you to just drive with me.”
You turn to him, unintentionally scanning over his face while he’s so close, and give him a small, fake smile. “And I told you I travel alone.”
It’s the first time you see annoyance pull at his brows. The only thing it does for you is make you give yourself a mental tally mark. Winning is your strong suit.
“Late on the first day isn’t a good look,” the man in the back on the right says. “It’s almost as if it’s not important to you.”
“First day?” You raise your eyebrows at him. “Bold of you to assume I haven’t been involved from the moment I signed a wedding certificate.”
“That’s hardly an excuse—”
“Jaemin,” Chenle interrupts him. “It won’t happen again. Leave it alone.”
Anger bubbles in your stomach as you watch the man at the end—Jaemin—immediately back down. Your words weren’t enough, but the second Chenle opens his mouth, the argument’s over? With the group of men, you talk financials from last quarter. You follow along easily thanks to the binder of data Chenle provided you with. Stopping on the fourth page, you frown.
Leaning over to Chenle, you nudge his shoulder. When you point at the page, his eyes follow. You turn your head to whisper in his ear, “This charge isn’t itemized. Little amounts may be fine, but a $143,000 charge with no itemization from one of your departments can’t be normal.”
“You’ve got sharp eyes,” he mutters, almost appreciatively.
“Obligations make you that way,” you return, brushing your hair back as you lean against your chair. Chenle’s button-up sleeves are rolled to his elbows, the tip of his pen tapping on the table as he listens to Jisung talk.
Chenle’s smart not to bring anything up just yet, as he’s likely to do more research before asking his team what is going on with something like that. You cross your legs and listen intently, but most of it is beyond your scope in his company, anyway.
“You’ll also have to decide on new positions as well.” Another man speaks up from beside your cousin.
“And what positions are those, Mark?” Chenle asks.
“COO and CFO nominations for the board to vote.”
“There isn’t any need for nominations for COO.” Chenle frowns.
“Why’s that?” One of the men, Jeno, follows up.
“Isn’t it obvious? The only person qualified for such a role is my wife.” Chenle crosses his arms over his chest, but this time, you can’t stop your outward reaction. Your jaw drops as all eyes fall on you, and you give him an incredulous look.
“Are you serious?”
“Why is this a surprise?” he inquires, gaze meeting yours.
It’s a surprise because nowhere in your signed contract did it say you were entitled to a position of power at his company.
“(Y/N) is an excellent candidate. She’s done great things at my uncle’s company,” Jisung butts in, nodding at you. “If it were up to a vote, she’d have mine.”
“We’ll reconvene for the vote. I have several candidates for CFO listed in the binders you received today, so you may vote on those as well.” Chenle pauses.
You don’t realize your leg bouncing up and down until his palm presses against your knee. The movement is undetectable to everyone else, but it makes every ounce of air dissipate from your lungs. You calm down in an instant, no matter how much you hate to say it, and you clench your fists together in your lap.
“For now, my wife and I are going home,” he continues. “Have a good and productive day today.”
Everyone stands as he does, and you stare at him briefly when he extends his arm out to you. In that split second, you make eye contact with Jisung, who nods in encouragement. You let out a nearly invisible sigh, but you wrap your fingers around the crook of his elbow and allow him to lead you from the room. Once you’re far enough away from everyone, he still doesn’t let you go, a somewhat proud half-smile on his face. “After you pointed out that discrepancy, I almost switched gears and made you CFO instead.”
“You’ll learn quite fast that numbers aren’t really my strong suit.” You don’t even attempt to remove your grip on him. “My attention to detail makes up for the…lack of numerical intelligence.”
“I hope I didn’t take you too off-guard.” He opens the door to the building, disconnecting your arms to place his hand on the small of your back to guide you.
“Please.” You chuckle and shake your head. “You? Take me off-guard?”
“Competitive, too, huh?” He raises an eyebrow at you as he glances around at the different people with cameras surrounding you. Whether to keep you away from them or to keep up appearances, his hand slides from your back to your hip, gently pulling you closer to his side.
“Let’s just say I stopped being invited to family game night,” you admit.
Once the two of you make it to the car, you barely realize you’re disobeying your own rule of traveling alone. He grasps your hand to help you into the backseat, ignoring the flashing lights behind him as he watches you slide over.
He gets in after you, closing the door with a huff. “That’ll be a headline tomorrow.”
“You helping me into the car?”
“You smiled at me.”
“We’re married.”
“Nobody believes it.” He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair.
After a moment of your silence, he reaches over to grab your hand. You surprise even yourself when you allow him.
“I’m sorry. It’s not your problem. And it doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks.”
“Don’t apologize.” You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter, Chenle. We’ll get our…obligations out of the way, and then you can find the love you claim you want.”
His jaw tightens as he looks forward, his grip on you loosening. “Right.”
“Why?” you ask. “Why is that what you want? With me, or with anyone.”
“Love is good for you.” He shrugs. “To have someone who actually cares for you more than themselves just because they want to. Ever since I was young, I wanted to marry for love, but I’d always understood it wasn’t in the cards for me. But I figured I’d at least be able to try. With whoever it was, at least I’d be able to try to be a proper husband.”
There’s much more complexity behind Chenle than what you initially gave him credit for. You figured he’d be the typical CEO, a man high on power who will do everything and anything to not only keep it, but to grow his influence. The version of him you see now doesn’t support that original thought, but you have a hard time believing it.
“Life is already dull and loveless as it is. Rich families don’t exactly enjoy time with their relatives. I figured you, of all people, would understand where I’m coming from in that aspect.” He fidgets with his wedding band. “I don’t want to bring children into a world where they won’t be loved.”
“You think I wouldn’t love my own children?” you ask.
“That’s not what I said.” He glances at you. “Children deserve a complete family. One with parents who not only love them, but each other. I didn’t have that growing up, and I refuse to put anyone else through it.”
“I see.” You understand his point all too well, but you don’t see the big deal. Even if you two were in love and had children, wouldn’t you still have nannies and cooks and all of the things that you had as a child?
“Again, I’m not forcing you into anything. So, you don’t have to try with me if you don’t want to. But I’m not searching for it somewhere else. Since we…are obligated to have children, I wouldn’t put them through a situation where they view their father as a cheater. When I signed that contract and the marriage certificate, I signed my life away to you. Sure, it wasn’t in a traditional way or necessarily…by choice, but we’re here.”
“Wow, you sure know how to woo a woman.”
“You’ve made your stance clear. All I ask is that whoever you…” he trails off and scoffs. “Whoever you decide to be with, you keep them away from any future children. And we’ll never force them into a marriage like this.”
“You want our children to marry for love?”
“Of course, I do.” He nods.
“Chenle, I…”
This time, you reach over to him to stop his excessive movement. The second your fingers wrap around his wrist, he stops.
“I think the same way you do. Hopefully, we respect each other enough not to be caught. Publicly or by children.”
“So, you really…There’s no chance? Of anything real between us?”
Your heart comes to a dead-stop in your chest, and the word ‘no’ hangs on the tip of your tongue, but for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to actually say it. It’s one simple syllable, but it’s so heavy in your mouth, you fear opening it will wreak havoc.
“I…I don’t know,” you reply, gulping.
He turns his hand so your palms are touching, and then he squeezes you gently. “All I ask is that you keep an open mind. It’s okay to let yourself have things you want, too. Not everything has to be an obligation.”
Before you can speak, the driver is opening the door for you and Chenle to get out. The two of you make your way into the house, but you’re honestly not sure where to go from here. You head upstairs toward the master bedroom to take off your dress.
“(Y/N),” Chenle calls, stopping you in your tracks. He continues, “I have to get clothes to change into. They’re still all in the master, but I’ll have the staff move them by the end of the week.”
You wet your lips. Standing on the third stair makes you taller than him, and he looks up at you with only kindness behind his brown eyes. You want to hate him. Or to only tolerate him. But through the moments of kindness, you know he’s the type of man you could be friends with. You could—
You stop that thought before it completes. “It’s your house. Do whatever you need to.”
He joins you on the third step and leans closer to you. “Wrong.”
“Wrong?” You tilt your head.
“Remember that everything I have is yours, too. This house belongs to you just as much as it belongs to me. As much as you hate to think so, I know you, (Y/N). The ball is in your court. You make the decisions around here, whether it’s what color the walls are or twenty kids running around the hallways. Whatever you want, I’ll make it happen.”
You gape at him, face red as he leans away from you and continues up the stairs without looking back at you. Once he’s far enough away, you clear your throat and pat your cheeks. Regaining your composure, you follow him up and find him working on the buttons of his shirt, his tie discarded on the bed.
“Does this bother you?” he asks. “I can go.”
“What makes you think it bothers me?”
“You’re staring.”
You head over to the closet instead of responding to him, more than ready to put pants on instead of the dress that’s much too tight for comfort. Once you’ve picked out your new clothes, you stay where you’re at and reach behind you for the zipper. After a few moments of struggling with it, you finally give up and decide to use your resources.
“Chenle?” you call out.
When he appears in the doorway, his shirt is absent, and you were pretty sure he’d been wearing a belt before. His arms are crossed over his chest as he leans against the frame, awaiting you to tell him what you need. You don’t have to actually speak. Instead, you turn your back to him and pull your hair over your shoulder. He hums behind you, keeping a respectable amount of distance before he grips the zipper.
“What did you do before me?” he asks, hesitant to pull it down.
“Staff.” You shrug. “But I mostly wore things I knew I’d be able to—”
The familiar sound and the rush of cool air against your heated skin as he reveals more of you has your breath catching in your throat. You cut yourself off, immediately reaching up to hold the dress to your chest.
“I’m a very accommodating man, (Y/N).” His voice sinks into every inch of you. “If you need something, tell me. I’m your husband. It’s quite literally my job to ensure you’re happy, darling.”
The heat radiating from his bare skin so close to yours has every thought in your brain flying away. Logically, there’d be nothing wrong with giving in to your temptation. It’d been a long time since anyone had touched you, and the man behind you is your husband. Physical attraction had nothing to do with emotions or feelings, so it was okay. One thing you’d never be able to deny is how he’s one of the most beautiful men you’d ever met. Your parents could’ve chosen much, much worse for you.
His voice centimeters from your ear startles you out of your trance. He says, “I wonder what you’re thinking about. You seem a bit distracted.”
“Wouldn’t you love to know.”
“Truly.”
“I need to change.”
“Do you?” He trails a finger up your spine. “You’re so soft. What an odd comparison to that steel wall you’re forcing yourself to keep up.”
“I think you’re forgetting your own boundaries.” You clench your fist into the fabric of your dress. “This wouldn’t be real.”
“What even is this?” His breath fans across your neck, and you’re sure you feel the sublest brush of his lips on your skin. “Tell me where you think this is going. After all, I’m helping you with your dress like a good husband.”
“My dress was dealt with minutes ago.”
“Darling.” He tsks. “If your dress was dealt with already, it would be long, long gone.”
Even like this, you refuse to let him win. If this were to be the extent of your relationship with Chenle, you’d be fine with that. You crave satisfaction, and you also know this is a means to an end. This may be the key to giving your family those fucking heirs they want so badly. In a bold move, you release your grip on the fabric and allow it to crumple at your feet.
“What?” You tilt your head, grinning when his breathing halts. “Are you the only one who can deliver?”
He places his hand on your hip. “Can I touch you here?”
“Mhm,” you inhale sharply when he squeezes, trying your best not to roll back against him.
“Here?” he whispers, splaying his fingers out along your stomach.
“What’s your goal?” you ask, looking back at him over your shoulder. “You seem like you want something from me.”
His face is much too close to yours, but for some reason, it does little to bother you. When his lips part, you don’t mean to squirm in his touch. His eyes sweep over your expression, his touch edging just a little further downward until he can play with the lace hem of your panties.
“I’ve told you what I want already.” His gaze locks on your mouth. “Everything. I want it all.”
You gulp, unable to speak for fear of making a fool of yourself.
“What about me makes this hard for you?” he asks.
Despite the softness of his voice, your proximity to him means you see the hint of hurt swimming around in his dark irises. The heat of his bare skin on yours has everything inside you awakening, but you can’t give him what he wants.
“The choice is yours.” He takes a deep breath. “Going forward, the choice is always yours to make. I’m yours in any way you want me.”
The atmosphere around you is so warm, charged, you can’t help the way you struggle to breathe. You lean closer to him, and when your lips brush his, his grip around you tightens. Before he’s able to initiate a real kiss, a knock sounds on the bedroom door.
“Mr. Zhong, you have a visitor.”
“God damn it,” he curses under his breath, annoyance replacing whatever vulnerability you’d just seen. Stepping away from you, he grabs a shirt for you and hands it to you.
You accept it quickly, embarrassment flooding through your system as reality sets in and you realize what you’d done. He stops in the doorway, stealing one more glance at you before he runs his fingers through his hair and walks out.
“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself, patting your cheeks.
Your skin where he touched you suddenly feels much too cold, and you give yourself a few moments to calm down as you search for a pair of pants to put on. You pick your dress up off the floor and put it with your dirty laundry. You tie your hair up to get yourself to cool down, and then you follow Chenle out to see who saved you from making a decision you wouldn’t be able to come back from.
“You came all the way here to deliver a report?” Chenle’s voice cuts through the air before you’re able to see him, and you hear the agitation flooding through it.
You round the corner and stop at the top of the stairs, finding Chenle in the foyer with one of the men from the meeting earlier standing right inside the doorway with a binder. He’d slipped his shirt back on, retucked it, and even rolled his sleeves up. His hands are deep in his pockets.
“It couldn’t wait,” the man says.
“There are plenty of things that can’t wait in this world, and they wait anyway, Jeno.” Chenle shifts on his feet. “But you’re here, so give it to me.”
Jeno hands Chenle the binder, and he opens it. At the realization of what it is, the latter’s eyes close.
“You’re telling me that this has been going on for years?”
“Before you were even CEO, yes.” Jeno nods.
“My father knows about this?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What is your father supposed to know about?” you ask, finally making your presence known as you make your way down the stairs.
Chenle turns to you, his jaw clenching as his gaze travels on its own accord. “The amount you pointed out earlier. It’s not just one payment. There’s…an entire binder full of payments to someone that aren’t accounted for. That’s $143,000 a quarter, for longer than I’ve even been able to—”
“Should she really be involved in this?” Jeno grabs Chenle’s arm.
“She’s the COO of the company.” Chenle frowns at the other man. “And she’s my wife. If this is going on, it affects her, too.”
The other man releases him, and you join Chenle at his side. At this point, even pressing your arm against his is far too much contact for you, yet you crave it all the same.
“It’s new for them,” you remind your husband. “They’re not used to me yet. They’ll learn in due time.”
“Right.”
You hold your hand out for the reports, and he gives it to you. You flip through, noting the dates corresponding with the payments.
“I wouldn’t bring it up to your father,” you mention.
“What?” Chenle recoils. “Why not?”
“These charges have been happening for years,” you point out. “There’s a chance he might know about them. That he could be the one—”
“That’s impossible,” Chenle interrupts you, his posture immediately straightening out as he stands rigid.
“It’s not.” You keep your voice soft in an attempt to neutralize the situation, and you reach for his wrist. “All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t rule anyone out. We need to keep this within a circle while we do research. No one else can know that this has even been caught.”
As soon as your fingers wrap around him, the tension in his body melts away. He lets out a sigh, wets his lips, and nods. “You’re right. We’ll look into it.” He turns to Jeno. “No one can know about this. This stays between the three of us.”
“Of course,” Jeno confirms. “I’ll leave you with that information now. Have a good night, you two.”
“Thanks,” Chenle says.
Jeno leaves, the echo of the door closing behind him leaving you and Chenle draped in an awkward silence. You place the binder on the table on the glass table, turning to face your husband.
“Are you alright?” Chenle asks.
“Me?” You raise your eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
He gives you a pointed look, one that tells you he’s in no way wanting to beat around the bush. “Don’t do that.”
“I’m…okay, yes. Maybe a little flustered, but I didn’t…hate what happened, if that’s what you’re asking.” You avoid his gaze, rolling your eyes as you stare off past him to the ornate details of the front door.
“We’re married,” he points out.
“Yes, I’m acutely aware of that fact, thank you.” Your fingers find the band of your wedding ring.
He pauses, but his gaze leaves goosebumps all over your body as he trails over you. “It’s clear we’re…attracted to each other. And you’re still sure you’d rather not attempt a real relationship.”
“We’ve talked about this.” You glance around, like the staff overhearing is the most embarrassing thing you’ll deal with.
“Not enough.”
“What else could we possibly add to that?”
“I don’t want us to tolerate each other, (Y/N). At the very least, we should try to be friends.” He takes a step closer to you.
You’ve been confronted by a lot of men in your life. There have been even more men who doubted your abilities, but none of them had ever intimidated you. Chenle, standing in front of you with a determined look on his face, intimidates you. A part of you—no matter how small it may be—knows he’s everything he says he is and more. He could give you the life you’ve always wanted, but you’re sure you don’t deserve it. Not until you’ve fulfilled your portion of the contract and take your place as CEO. Only then can you allow yourself to let go.
“Do you want me?” he asks. “In any way?”
“I don’t want to,” you tell him honestly. “But I do.”
“When we were on our honeymoon, or the semblance of whatever that was, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how we were forced into this arrangement, yet none of it…None of it feels wrong. You may not have paid me much attention beforehand, but for years before we were ever to be married, I’ve admired you. Your willpower and the way you hold your own. The independence you have. Your autonomy. I envy you.”
“Why? Why envy me?”
“Look at yourself.” Chenle puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you to look into the floor-length mirrors against the wall. “I’m not talking about how beautiful you are, even though that’s definitely an added bonus. I mean the utter tenacity you have flowing through your veins. The way you can command attention the second you walk into a room. How you’re unafraid to put men with decades of more experience in their places. You are…unapologetically yourself. This life, one of business, is significantly easier for me as a man, yet you’ve absolutely bulldozed everyone in your way.”
“Chenle—”
“I’m not done.” He taps his fingers against you.
Seeing him standing behind you in these mirrors is making your heart race, your brain jolting with electricity, and inexplicable thoughts running around your mind. He looks good like this. He watches you fondly, the admiration in his gaze evident.
“But you’re honest, too. With your intentions and with the way you want to live your life. I wish you’d give me the chance to prove how things could be, but like I said before, these choices are yours alone. Don’t get that confused with me not wanting to try. Because I’ll keep trying as long as you want me in…whatever way.”
You turn to him, craning your neck to look at him with your hands flat on his chest. “I’m beginning to think you’re crazy.”
“If trying to give my wife the life she deserves is crazy, then I’ll gladly claim that title.” A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Something tells me you might come around someday.”
“I wish you saw things the way I do,” you mutter.
“I think the same way. But as much as I understand your fears, they shouldn’t hinder you in your life. You’re allowed to explore all aspects. Business. Joy. Intimacy. Love.”
“And you’re an expert on intimacy?” You raise your eyebrows.
“Expert might be a strong word, but I won’t ever lie to you. I’ve been in love in the past and gotten hurt because of it. But every heartbreak is worth it if it leads you to the person you were made for.” His hands slide to your hips, fingertips barely applying any pressure. “If we find we’re not good for each other, I’d let you go. You’re bound to me in a legal sense only. Paper. It means nothing unless we make it mean something.”
“You…scare me,” you breathe out. “This scares me.”
“We’re doing something right, then.” He lets out a short chuckle. “But I like this. Being close to you. Knowing that we’d be so much better as a team than as roommates.”
“I’ve always worked alone.”
“Does that mean you’ve never been in love?”
You shake your head. “Never. I don’t give myself the time to feel things like that.”
“So, feel.” His finger brushes below your chin, angling you so your eyes meet his. “Tell me what you’re feeling right now.”
“I—”
“Don’t think. Feel.”
“I…I’m nervous. You can’t be real. I’ve only been burned in the past, but it feels like you’d…just keep me warm. I don’t know if I want that.” You gulp past the unexplainable lump in your throat. “It’s…overwhelming.”
“What can I do to help you?” Chenle asks. “Whatever you need. Tell me, and I’ll make it happen.”
“You.” Your voice almost refuses to work. “I want you, but I…I need time to see if that’s really it or if I’m tricking myself in order to fulfill these stupid obligations set for me.”
“Which obligations?”
“Heirs.” You avert your gaze, but he gently pulls you right back.
“Take whatever time you need. I mean it. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not going to push you into any situations like that.” He reaches up and plays with a strand of your hair. “But there are…plenty of ways to explore that side of our relationship without pregnancy being a risk. Or a reward, if that’s what you view it as.”
Your face burns. Never before has a man made you blush.
“With that in the open, does removing the pregnancy factor make you want me any less?”
You contemplate. While you’d love to say that portion of your contract was the last thing on your mind, you thought of it frequently. But thoughts of what he’s mentioning has your insides twisting and turning in every way, with or without heirs being involved. When he touched you earlier, his hands on your bare skin, that genuinely wasn’t a thought. You want him for personal gain, but not in the way you originally assumed.
“Never less,” you murmur. The warmth around you becomes unbearable, yet you still find yourself shivering. “I think we need to come back to this at a different time.”
“Of course.” He takes a step back, allowing cool air to rush over you. Grabbing the binder from the table, he gestures for you to follow him into his office. “Shall we move on to some numbers, then?”
Finally, you laugh shortly. “Yeah. Yes, that sounds good.”
After two hours of studying the documents, spreadsheets, and all the other information Jeno brought for Chenle, the two of you have gotten as far as discovering the payments were sent to the same bank account. Stress is written across his face, and eventually, you slide the binder away from him.
“You’re going to run yourself into the ground,” you scold him. “It’s time for a break.”
“What time is it?” he asks, massaging his forehead.
“Almost 8pm.” You lean back in your chair and cross your legs.
His lips part in shock, and he checks his watch. “Fuck. I’m sorry, I didn’t even…you haven’t eaten yet.”
“Neither have you,” you point out.
“We’ve already established that you’re more important.” He lets out a sigh, partially filled with frustration. “You know what? Why don’t you get changed and we’ll go out?”
“Together?” Your eyes widen.
“We’re married. It’d be weird if we went by ourselves.”
“Right, of course. Um, anything in particular I should wear?”
“The choice is yours.” He grins, and like it’s the easiest thing in the world, robs all of the oxygen from your lungs. You realize then that you don’t see him smile much, but the pang in your heart can only mean you want to see it over and over again.
“Okay.” You nod and stand. “Give me ten minutes.”
“Take your time. I’ll be waiting for you.”
“You sure you don’t want to pick?” you offer one last time.
“While that would honestly be an honor, darling, I’m trying to prove a point here.” He lifts himself to his feet and reaches across the desk to close the binder. “I could use a drink.”
You give him a small smile before you exit his office. Once he’s out of sight, you practically bound up the stairs. You’d been on dates before, sure, but this feels different. You know better than to let yourself look too far ahead, so once you’re in your closet, you want to make sure you wear something nice. You pick a dress you’re sure you can get yourself out of. Unlike your outfit from earlier, this one isn’t as tight to your figure, and the soft color matches you well. For business meetings, you only wear black. Wearing bright colors hasn’t ever brought you success, but you figure you can wear the purple for a date with your husband.
A date. Is it a date?
That part of it doesn’t matter. This dress makes you feel good about yourself, truly. Disgust immediately sends a shiver down your spine when you realize you’re beginning to ponder how Chenle will perceive you. He’s a man. You could wear a trash bag and he’d think you did something revolutionary. Brushing the skirt of your dress off, you grab a pair of heels, slide them on, and head back down the stairs. He waits by the door, his suit jacket back on and buttoned in the middle. He turns at the sound of your shoes on the floor, and he freezes in his spot.
“What?” you inquire.
“I just…I’ve never seen you in that color before.” He clears his throat, but his cheeks tinge with a light, barely noticeable pink. “You…it suits you well.”
“Thank you.” Before you attempt to leave the door, he grabs your jacket from the rack and drapes it over your shoulders.
“It’s cold, darling,” he mutters, making sure the fabric is secure on your shoulders.
“You don’t think it ruins the outfit?”
“Not a chance. Jacket or not, it’s my favorite of yours.”
“Relax with the compliments. You’re making me blush.” You brush your fingertips against his shoulder and exit the house.
“My hard work is paying off. Good to know.” He closes the door behind him and guides you to the car with his hand on the small of your back. “I’ll stop with the compliments if you ever stop deserving them. Which I doubt will happen, by the way.”
The drive is thirty minutes, and the city is still bustling by the time Chenle is helping you out of the car. His palm against yours makes your stomach flip, and you’re beginning to hate this effect he has on you. It seems like it hit you out of nowhere, and you’d prefer if it were to sink back into the depths of hell where it came from in the first place. But before you know it, you’re a glass and a half deep of wine, you’ve eaten enough pasta to get you through the night, and Chenle’s in the exact same boat you’re in. Between the two of you, you’ve finished a bottle, and it seems as if your husband is debating ordering another one.
You hide a laugh with another sip from your glass and shake your head. “I cannot believe we’re this out of order.”
“The order doesn’t matter as long as the end result is desirable. Isn’t that true?” He quirks an eyebrow at you.
“Mm, I’ve always been an order of operations girl. Everything has to happen in the exact right way.” You set your drink down and rest your head on your palm.
“I just realized I know…nothing about your past. Please, tell me what the younger version of you was like. What kind of trouble did you get into?”
“Wow, what makes you assume I got into trouble?” you tease him, unable to fight your smile.
He sucks in a deep breath and pats his legs. “God, I’m not sure. It couldn’t be the way you never take no for an answer or how you absolutely run over everyone in your way.”
“I’ll have you know that I am a very composed human.” You run your tongue over your teeth.
“I’d expect nothing less, to be honest.” He gives you a soft smile. “And for the record, I enjoy those qualities. There aren’t many people in this world that would be unafraid of calling me out if I’m doing something wrong.”
“You mean earlier.”
“I mean in general, but that does apply, yes.”
“I only want to be a balance for you.” You look down at the red liquid in your cup. “We’re meant to complement each other now, yeah?”
“I think we were the most strategic pair…ever.” Chenle nods.
“Can I be honest with you?” You take another sip.
“Absolutely.”
“You asked me earlier what about you makes this situation hard. Or what about you makes it hard for me to…let go of certain views.” You clear your throat, dreading the conversation more than you’d care to admit. “I feel like it’s…because a part of me knows the greatness we’d be capable of together. But I’ve worked hard to build my own greatness, and I can almost guarantee the second this becomes real, my greatness becomes ours.”
“Ah.” He purses his lips. “I won’t lie to you. There will be people that see it that way. But by being married to me, those people already exist.”
“I’m not talking about other people. I don’t care about them or their opinions.” You finish off your glass.
“You…you mean me?” His eyes widen in shock.
“That is a fear I have.”
He flounders for a second, and he scrambles for words for the first time all day. “I’m sorry, I just…I’m not sure if there’s anything I can say to make this better. I…(Y/N), I know my promises probably don’t mean much to you at this point, but I’d never discount you like that. Or take credit for anything you’ve done. How can I make that clearer?”
“It’s not your issue to correct.” You chew the inside of your cheek. “It’s mine. And I don’t say it to make you feel responsible, but as a forewarning, I guess. Being a woman and working my way to the top just to have…this thrust upon me is a little redundant.”
“You never wanted to marry in the first place.” It’s not a question.
“That’s correct.”
He blows out a long breath and looks down at his hands, twisting the wedding band on his finger. “You never saw this in the cards for you.”
“I knew I’d eventually have to marry for company purposes. My father would never let himself die before he knows I’ve carried on his line.” You snort and shake your head. “But I figured all of these types of marriages were the same. People signed their paperwork and barely acknowledged each other unless it was to reproduce.”
Chenle lets out a laugh. “Your word choice is interesting.”
“Shut up, you know what I mean.” You cover your mouth as you join him in laughter. “I just never thought you’d be…you.”
“I live to prove to you that you can have everything. We can be happy, have a real family, and still be at the top of our field. Both independently and together.”
Fortunately for the both of you, Chenle doesn’t order the second bottle of wine. Instead, he pays the bill and leads you from the restaurant with his arm wrapped around your waist. He opens the car door for you, and as you place your hand in his to enter, he squeezes your hand gently. Once you get home, the two of you separate at the top of the stairs, him heading off to a spare room down the hall while you step into the room that technically belongs to him. You change without interrupt, your silk nightgown soft on your skin as you climb into bed.
You stare up at the ceiling, tracing along it with your eyes as if you were drawing a map. Where the destinations were you had yet to figure out, but you imagined a whole new world up there, one where you didn’t have to have this wall up. One where you didn’t have to fight tooth and nail for a shred of respect you more than deserve. One where you didn’t have to be scared of what Chenle was trying to offer you.
You sigh, clutching the blanket to your chest. The wine has since settled in your system, yet your blood still runs warm. The map on the ceiling becomes mountains, oceans, continents. It forms real shapes, real geography in your mind, but you find the destination right in the middle is where you truly want to be. When you look at your phone, the time is already past 2 a.m., and you’re not anywhere near tired. You’re startled by the knock. You shuffle out of bed, crossing your arms over your chest as you crack the door open slightly.
Chenle stands there, hands buried deep in his sweatpants. His eyes sweep over you as you open the door wider.
“You’re up,” he comments.
“I couldn’t sleep.” You shrug. “You’re up. And here.”
“I was hoping I could talk to you.” He pauses. “I can’t stop thinking, and I just really don’t want to be alone right now.”
Your heart skips a beat. As much as you hate it, warmth spreads through your entire being at the thought of his first idea being you.
“This is your room, Chenle. I’m not going to tell you you can’t come in your own bedroom.” You step back to give him space to walk in, but he stays put outside, staring at you as if he’s seeing straight into your soul. You give him a pointed look, but give in. “Yes, it’s okay for you to come in here. I’d prefer company as well.”
He shuffles past you, tiredness clearly weighing down as the bottoms of his feet slide across the hardwood floor. You watch him closely, admiring him. Quickly, you realize that he fits into any room he walks in. He belongs anywhere and everywhere, and within moments, he makes you feel something you’ve only ever been able to provide for yourself until this moment—safe.
“Sorry,” he whispers with a sigh. “I need to stop thinking.”
“Trust me, I get it. Me too.” You stand with your arms still crossed over your chest and you rock back and forth on the balls of your feet. “Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?”
“I shouldn’t bore you.” He waves you off and sits on the edge of his bed. “How are you adjusting?”
“I’m okay. I’m not complaining about my accommodations.” You move and sit next to him, putting your hand on his knee. “You won’t bore me. If something’s bothering you, I want to try and help.”
His eyes sparkle even in the dark. The landscapes of the map you drew reflect in his gaze, and you swear you see every mountain, every body of water, entire worlds forming in his irises. How have you never seen this before? Why are you seeing it now?
“The payments,” he murmurs. “The idea that my father might know about them. Might be facilitating them. It’s driving me up a fucking wall.”
“When I said that, I didn’t mean to upset you.” You reach over and grab his hand. “We just need to take precaution when it comes to situations like this. If it is him and he knows we’re onto him, it might be…a bigger issue than it needs to be.”
“I know that. I guess it’s the idea that he’d be capable of something like that.” Chenle stares down at the way your thumb traces against his skin.
“You look up to him.”
“I did. I do. A lot, actually, so this seems so…backwards. That’s a lot of money per quarter, you know? I could only imagine what it’s going towards.” He turns his hand around so your palms are touching, and he gently intertwines your fingers. “Sorry, I should’ve asked if this was okay.”
“It’s more than okay. Don’t worry about me. Keep talking.”
“My parents never really loved each other. They grew to love their life together, but not each other. And despite that, I had a decent time growing up. They were good parents to me, and that’s what truly matters at the end of the day, but it makes me wonder if they’re…not these great people I’ve made them out to be in my head.” He lets out a short chuckle. “This sounds pathetic.”
“Hey.” Before you realize what you’re doing, you reach up to cup his cheek and bring his gaze back to yours. “Don’t talk like that. You’re not pathetic. These are valid concerns, and if you’ve been lied to for this long, you have every right to be upset.”
You’re so distracted by him, you barely even recognize the softness of his face. Your thumb runs gently along his cheekbone, and you watch as the frown fades from his features. Something you can’t recognize forms behind his irises, yet it still feels familiar. How do you explain how the normal beat of your heart hurts? How do you tell him that seeing him upset like this feels like needles running along your skin?
“My father would tell me I was foolish for hoping for love,” Chenle whispers. “He said it was a waste of time, since any man as busy as we are just isn't suited for it. For families.”
“If you’d asked me a few weeks ago, I would’ve agreed with him.” You squeeze his hand and give him a small smile.
“Something changed?” he asked.
“I don’t think that way anymore,” you admit. “Now, I’ve realized it’s about the amount of effort someone is willing to put in. It has nothing to do with time. We make time for those we care about.”
He leans into your touch as his eyes flutter shut. You admire the angelic glow the stars leave on his skin, and despite how tired he is, he’s still so fucking beautiful. Your throat dries at the sight, and you hate how it feels like your insides are at war.
“I like this,” he tells you. “Being with you like this.”
“Me, too.” You smile, even though he can’t see you. “You should try and sleep though. You’ll be exhausted tomorrow.”
His chest visibly deflates, and he places his hand on top of yours to pull it away from his face. “Of course. I…I’ll get going.”
You recoil, but you don’t let go of his other hand. “Oh. Is that what you want?” Nerves crawl around in your stomach. You figured he’d stay with you tonight, in his own bed. That maybe the two of you would learn to be better comforted by each other’s presence.
“You’re tired, and I’m keeping you up. I was inconsiderate.” He clears his throat.
“No, no,” you quickly interject. “That’s not what I meant at all. I’m only worried about you, so I was hoping you’d stay with me.”
“In here?” he asks.
You nod. “Yes. If it were my choice, you’d stay.”
“Damn, you got me there.” He delivers a tired grin and ultimately agrees. “I’d love that, (Y/N). Truly.”
You let him settle in beneath the comforter first, and he lifts it to allow you room to slide in next to him. Neither of you say anything else, but things seem to fall together naturally. He opens his arms, you push yourself against his chest, and then he wraps you up tightly in his warm embrace. He smells faintly of cologne, a soft, woody scent that engulfs you pleasantly. Despite the way you failed to fall asleep earlier, you struggle to remember a time you’d ever fallen into your dream world faster.
When you wake without Chenle in the morning, you’re sure you dreamed the last portion of the night. That is, until you see that it’s almost 10 am. You gasp and launch yourself out of bed. You never sleep in this late, so you quickly dress yourself and get ready for the day. Chenle’s side of the bed is mussed, so you determine it was, indeed, not a dream, and you make sure you look as presentable as your normal standard before you go downstairs to find where your husband disappeared to. The smell of breakfast emanates from the kitchen, so you naturally gravitate that way. When you step into the room, you’re taken aback by the company present. Not just your own parents, but Chenle’s as well. Your husband stands at the end of the table, clearly stressed with all of the people in your kitchen. He notices you first and breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of you.
“Wow,” you say as you approach Chenle and stand next to him. “Were we expecting everyone today?”
“Nope.” He chuckles and, much to apparently both of your surprises, he leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek. “Everyone showed up an hour or so ago.”
Through the burning of your cheeks, your gaze shoots up to his and you lower your voice. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“You looked really comfortable.” He shrugs.
“(Y/N), Chenle was just telling us that you’re accepting the COO position at his company,” your mother butts in. Of course, business talk immediately.
“Yes, we—”
“Isn’t that a little early? And don’t you have enough responsibilities as COO of my company?” your father grumbles, and you already start to shrink into yourself in his presence.
“She’s more than capable,” Chenle defends you. “If I didn’t think she could handle it, I wouldn’t have done it.”
“Don’t interrupt their family discussions, Chenle, that’s rude,” his mother scolds him.
“This marriage was a merger, was it not?” Chenle raises an eyebrow. “Doesn’t that technically make our families interconnected now?”
“We’ll consider them officially connected when she’s had her first child.” Your father points his finger at you. “Speaking of which, what’s taking so long?”
Your jaw drops, and you shift uncomfortably. It’s one thing to talk about your husband getting you pregnant with your own father, but him being so comfortable spitting things out like that in front of Chenle’s parents as well has you feeling queasy.
“We’ve been married for two months.”
“Your mother was pregnant after three weeks.”
“I don’t really want to hear about you impregnating my mother—”
“You’re making excuses, (Y/N), you know what’s on the line here.” Your father tsks at you, sipping from his water glass.
“Sir, all due respect, but it’s not like we knew each other very well. We’re both still getting comfortable with each other. And we’re young. We have plenty of time to have children.” As soon as the words leave Chenle’s mouth, you reach over and grasp his hand. It’s not visible below the table, but he squeezes you in reassurance.
“And what happens if she were to die tomorrow? My bloodline dies with her?” Your father narrows his eyes at Chenle. Your heart sinks in your chest, and you scratch your forehead.
“Even if she were to be pregnant, if she died tomorrow there wouldn’t be an heir either way,” your husband replies.
“Is there a reason we’re having such a lovely family reunion?” you butt in, hoping to curve their conversation.
“Do we need a reason to visit our daughter?” your mother asks.
“Typically, yes.” You shrug. “You never show up unannounced.”
“Oh, I take it they haven’t seen the tabloids,” Chenle’s father mentions.
You stand from your spot and pull your phone out of your pocket to check. You hear Chenle whisper something to the group before he pushes his chair back to join you. Despite the anxiety crawling up your spine, the warmth of him right behind you calms you.
“They came here because there’s a couple articles of people being shocked that we like each other?” you hiss, tossing your phone on the counter.
“Breathe,” Chenle tells you, putting his hands on your shoulders. “They’ll eventually leave us alone, but we’ve got to placate them for now.”
“Placate them?” You turn to him and raise your eyebrow. “You exchanged words with my father.”
“He said stupid things.” Chenle shrugs.
You chuckle. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ah, but you said the people are surprised we like each other, so I’m assuming you enjoy how ridiculous I am.” He bites back a grin when he sees you blush.
“God, you’ve got to stop doing that.” You push gently at his chest and walk back to your parents and your in-laws.
“I’m not sure this is really something that should have blame assigned,” Chenle’s mother says. “I’ve seen married couples go years without children.”
You curse under your breath. Of course, this is still the topic of conversation.
“That’s not how it works in this family. Heirs come first immediately after marriage.” Your mother sips from a champagne flute.
“Well, that’s hardly Chenle’s fault—”
“He’s a man. How hard is it to impregnate a woman?” Your mother scoffs. “Please, she’s not ugly by any means.”
“Mother, dear God,” you snap. “Why in the world are we still talking about this?”
“I’m sorry, are you questioning my son’s…viability?” Chenle’s father narrows his eyes.
You want to combust into flames right then and there. The immediate assumption that the reason behind you not being with child yet is that Chenle simply can’t get it up. How fucking great.
“I’m just saying, there were other men contending for a contract that were more than willing—”
“That’s enough,” you shout.
You have four shocked faces staring at you, and you feel Chenle go rigid behind you.
“I am beyond tired of this conversation already. We’ve only been married for two months, and that’s just not enough time. I barely even knew him when I married him, and we’re trying to do this the normal way. As normally as we can.” You pause. “I’m the one that wants to wait. And it is a want, not a necessity, so neither of us are…sexually dysfunctional.”
Chenle holds back a laugh behind you, but four sets of eyes are still on you. And while it’s technically not the truth—as you’ve stated multiple times you’d be okay with having an heir quickly—you’d rather this portion of it fall on you than on him. Your parents would lose their minds.
“And let’s not forget that (Y/N) is a human with a career that’s just as important as mine,” your husband adds. “Having a child at this time could put her back immensely after all the hard work she’s put in. If she wants to wait, nobody should have a say in that other than her.”
With every word coming out of Chenle’s mouth, he gets more and more attractive to you. You wish today had been a simple morning, truly. One where you’d wake up with him next to you and he’d hold you for however long the two of you could stand to stay still for.
“You should be happy we’re trying to do this properly.” You cross your arms over your chest.
“Love is a waste of time in a business arrangement.” Your father sets his empty water glass on the table.
“I agree. It’s better to get the obligations out of the way first, and then worry about trying to create something real,” Chenle’s father agrees.
“Right, because that worked out so well for you,” Chenle says.
Today was going to be a long, long day.
Your parents and in-laws stayed for another hour, and then they (thankfully) willingly left on their own accord. As soon as Chenle closes the door behind his parents, you sigh in relief and slump your back against the counter. He approaches you without a word, and almost like it’s instinct, you wrap your arms around him. Running his fingers through your hair, he holds you as close as he can.
“I’m sorry my parents implied you’re impotent,” you mutter, and you and Chenle burst into laughter at the same time.
“Wow. Clearly the only two options for an explanation as to why you’re not pregnant within two months are impotency or your husband not finding you attractive. Which, for the record, neither of those are an issue.”
“Gross. But thanks, I think?” You lean back slightly to look at him and find him smiling at you.
“Just being honest. If I was impotent, I would’ve told you before we married for business purposes. And if you don’t know how attractive you are at this point, that would be one of the world’s biggest mysteries.” He pulls you to him until your chest presses against his. “But, since I was so rudely torn away from my beautiful wife this morning by our nosy, no fucking good parents dropping in like we’re fifteen years old, I wanted to thank you for last night. Since I couldn’t earlier.”
“Thank me?” You frown and tilt your head.
“I needed that. I didn’t even know it, but I needed it,” Chenle tells you.
“Of course,” you murmur. “You never have to be alone for those moments.”
“Just for those moments?” He fakes a pout. “Does that mean I have to go back to my own room?”
You give him a pointed look, and then pretend to be lost in thought momentarily. “Pretty sure that’s only when you make me mad. I guess married couples argue and then the wives send the husbands to the couch. But in this case, there’s an extra bedroom. Or twenty.”
“Can I…can I try something?” he asks, the tips of his ears turning red.
“Yeah.” You nod.
“Close your eyes,” he mutters.
If he was anyone else, you’d be asking a million questions. But this is Chenle, and you’ve grown to realize he’s exactly who he said he is. You trust him inexplicably.
“Wow,” he says. “Not even a sarcastic comment. I think I’m winning you over.”
You open one eye, push at his shoulder, and then close it again. You’re more than tempted to open them again when his hands cup your cheeks. His thumbs caress your skin, and your breath gets caught in your throat. Your heart races in anticipation as you await his next move, craving whatever it is he wants to give you. You gasp quietly when you feel his lips brush yours, and your body tenses.
“Relax,” he whispers. “It’s me.”
You don’t give him the opportunity to finish closing the distance between you two. You do it for him. Pushing yourself forward, you seal the kiss with him quickly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close to you. He curses against you, and you follow suit when he wraps his arm around your waist and lifts you onto the counter. For a brief moment, he pulls away from you, chest heaving as he pants.
“Chenle.” You hate that it comes out as a whimper, but you love the way he reacts to it.
He kisses you again, harder this time while one of his hands tangles in your hair and the other sits on your thigh where the hem of your dress is. Instinctively, to make your dress ride up your legs more, you lift one and hike it up around his waist. The fabric slips past his fingertips, now resting much higher than it was before. You pull him closer until he’s right up against the lace of your panties.
“Fuck,” he curses lowly, digging his nails into your skin. “You’d better think this through, darling.”
A shiver runs down your spine, but heat floods your core. You need him.
“Please,” you whisper to him, watching as his eyes darken right in front of you. When you let your hand travel down his body, you smirk at how his length hardens further beneath your touch.
“Shit.” His hips unintentionally thrust into your hand. “Fuck, we should stop.”
You drop your head against his shoulder, retracting your hand away from him. “Well, impotency definitely won’t be a problem.”
He kisses up your neck. “Sorry. I don’t want to get carried away. Or even more carried away, I guess.”
“Look at me.” You wait for him to listen to you. “You don’t have to hold back if you don’t want to. Your desires are just as important as mine.”
“Before we…do anything, I need to make sure I have condoms.” He clears his throat and removes your leg from around his waist.
“Wait, what?” You frown and lean away from him. “What do we need those for?”
“Are you serious?” He takes a step back.
“Well, yeah. We’re married. We need to have children, why would we use condoms?” You run your fingers through your hair.
He sighs and runs his hands down his face. “We talked about this. I was under the impression that we were figuring this out first and then worrying about how and when we’d have children.”
“We can’t do both at the same time?”
“Did you ever think that maybe I don’t want kids yet?” He tilts his head at you and narrows his eyes. “Yes, I understand that’s part of the deal and why we’re even married in the first place, but I don’t want to even risk having kids if I don’t know it’s really me you want.”
Embarrassment floods through you, and you slide off the counter and send him back a few more paces. You pull your dress down and grimace at the thought of being in a position like that.
“After everything we’ve talked about and the time we’ve spent together, you really think that’s not true? You think I don’t want you?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. All of this is confusing. And then our parents are here pressuring you into having a kid, and you’re—”
“Oh, my God.” Your jaw drops, and you brush off your skirt. “You’re literally the one who kissed me. And then you put me on—God forbid I ask a simple question, right? That must mean I’m trying to jump your bones to get my way.”
“(Y/N), that’s not what I said—”
“Maybe not, but that’s sure as hell what you meant. And here I am, like a fucking idiot, letting you touch me when you think that fucking low of me.” You clench your fists at your side, and you’re unaccustomed to the way your heart twists so hard in your chest. “God, fuck you.”
You turn away from him and stomp off, painfully aware of your over-exaggeration. The logical side of you begs you to calm down, since both of your concerns are valid, but the side of you you’re experiencing for the first time is stronger than what you’re accustomed to. When you make it upstairs and to your room, you sit on the edge of the bed and force yourself to breathe. Chenle’s assumption hurt you. It’s as simple as that. You’ve let yourself like him, and now he has this power over you. With a simple miscommunication, it feels like everything is falling apart before it even begins.
You blink rapidly to stop the tears from welling in your eyes, and eventually, you’re more annoyed by your reaction than by the actual situation. The door creaks open, and Chenle walking in makes relief flood through your veins. He moves over to you and sits down next to you, reaching over to grab your hand.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
You nod and lean into his chest, craving his comfort. He sighs, wraps his arms around you tightly, and strokes your hair. With your ear pressed against him, you hear how his heart beats just as hard as yours.
“I think we both got a little carried away there,” he murmurs.
“Yeah,” you agree. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I got so upset.”
“I’m sorry, too.” He kisses the top of your head. “It’s never my intention to hurt you. Or to make you regret anything we do.”
You sit there in silence, appreciating the comfort he gives you simply by being next to you.
“I was…I don’t know. Embarrassed, I think.” You chuckle at yourself, but you don’t find it funny at all. “That you would think I’d just…do that without being truthful to you. I’ve had a lot of men assume things about me throughout my entire life. Because of my success, it’s either from my father handing it to me or because I slept my way to the top. So, I’m sure you can see why I had trouble comprehending that as anything else.”
“And I hope you know that’s not what I was thinking at all. I know how much of an influence your parents have had on you. All I ever want to do is make sure you’re making your choices for you. I never communicated that I would want to use condoms if we started sleeping together because I didn’t really assume we’d get there.” He squeezes you closer to him and takes a deep breath.
“I’m also sorry for yelling at you.” You scrunch your nose up and look at him. “That was…really weird.”
“Weird?” A small smile pulls at his lips.
“I’ve never felt anything like that before. And it’s scary that you have that kind of power over me, even if I know you wouldn’t use it against me intentionally.”
“Learning how to manage those feelings will come with the territory. Have some faith in me, alright? I’m not saying things just to bring you down.” He tilts your head up, his gaze scanning over your face. “I want you to be happy. Obviously, bonus points if I’m a part of that happiness.”
“You are.”
“Good. You deserve only good things in life, and I need to make sure you get them.”
He leans down and presses his lips to yours, gently working your mouths together. You sigh into him and tangle your fingers in his hair. Everything about this feels good. It has warmth spreading in your chest from knowing someone in this world cares for you beyond what you can give them. You know he wants you, but you also know he’s going to have your best interest in mind.
He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours. “We’ll learn each other, darling. Everything will work out the way it’s meant to.”
Whether intentionally or not, you and Chenle keep your distance from each other for a couple days. Today, however, you’ve no choice but to be around each other later for the board meeting, where they’ll vote on the CFO position. And your COO position, but Chenle made it very clear that the vote was simply a formality. You choose a black dress, zip it up, put your earrings in, and head downstairs, where your husband waits for you by the door. He looks at you as you stop on the bottom step, a loud clack coming from your heel.
“Yes?” You tilt your head at him.
“Are those earrings new?” He buttons his suit jacket.
“Not new.” You shake your head. “I just haven’t worn them since we married.”
“Right.” He walks over to you and offers you his arm. “Do you like receiving new things?”
You loop yours through his and allow him to guide you toward the door. “I guess that would depend on the context of receiving.”
“If I buy things for you, will they be well received?” he asks.
“You think you know me well enough to buy me things I’d enjoy?” You bite back a smile as he leads you outside and to the car.
With his hand on the small of your back, he helps you into the backseat before following. “I think I’d figure it out fairly quickly. I’m a smart man.”
“They…would be received. Maybe not well, but received nonetheless.”
He chuckles and shakes his head, relaxing against the seat. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“I can’t make it too easy for you.” You purse your lips, and without much thought, you scoot closer to him and place your hand on his.
“I don’t think easy is the right word for most things when it comes to you.” He laughs, turning his smile toward you.
“Most things?”
“Being with you is easy. Or around you, I should say. You’re pleasant company. Easy to have an intellectual conversation with, easy to relax around. Those are the easy things.”
“Wow.” You bite back your grin. “You sure know how to woo a woman.”
“Not just any woman,” he interjects. “My wife.”
“Your wife.” It’s the first time you’ve called yourself that out loud, and it has a weird, unrecognizable feeling sprouting in your stomach.
“I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but it seems like you’re coming around a little bit.” He nudges you gently. “I’m not sure how it’s possible, but I’ve missed you the past few days. After the other day, I wanted to give you space in case you didn’t want to see me, but I should’ve thought to ask you.”
He stares down at where your hands are connected, his thumb rubbing against your skin.
You fight the urge to touch his face again. “I…I’ve missed you, too, I think.”
“You think?” Humor laces in his tone.
“I don’t know. I’ve never wanted to be around someone like this before.” You shrug, heat gathering in your cheeks. “Forgive me while I navigate whatever’s going on inside my brain.”
“I want to know everything you’re thinking,” he murmurs, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Every joke, unimportant sentence, emotion, process. I want to know you.”
You lean forward and press your lips to his without a single thought in your head, but he reciprocates with ease. Almost as if he’s not taken off-guard in the slightest.
“I could get used to that,” he says against your lips. “No more silence, okay? I don’t want to be away from you.”
“No more silence,” you agree.
When the two of you pull away from each other, your eyes widen at the sight of your lipstick on his lips. You grab his arm to stop him from getting out of the car and use your thumb to wipe the excess away.
“Made a mess, did you?” He grabs your wrist to stop you. “You don’t want anyone to see that you like me that much?”
A grin follows his words, and he grabs his handkerchief out of his pocket.
“No one can know I actually have a heart,” you interject, watching as he wipes his mouth.
“Alright.” He puts his hand on your knee and squeezes. “Are you ready?”
If there’s one thing you know for sure, it’s the overwhelming attraction you have for Chenle. You take him in for a moment, the dark sweep of his hair parted to reveal his forehead, the way he grips you, the way he watches you as if you’re the only person in the world to exist.
“Before we go,” you start, chuckling quietly at yourself for the question you’re about to ask him. “Did…did you ever get condoms?”
His lips part in shock, and he blinks and flounders for words for a solid few seconds before he clears his throat. “I…I mean, I did, but not because I thought we would—it was just a precaution, you know?”
“Do I make you, Zhong Chenle, so nervous that you’re stuttering right now?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” He pats your thigh. “Absolutely, you do.”
You silently thank whoever made this car for the partition between the driver and you and Chenle. “I could do so many other things to you that are so much better.” You gently touch his tie, wrapping your fingers around the fabric and pulling on it to bring him closer to you.
“I truly have no doubt that’s true.” He wets his lips. “If we don’t get out of this car in the next ten seconds, I’m having the driver fucking turn us around. We can’t miss the vote.”
“I guess receiving the title of COO is a little more important than banging my husband.”
“Fuck, I need to get out right now.” He glances up at the ceiling and throws the door open without any more hesitation. Like usual, he turns and offers you his hand.
You take it gratefully, and you loop your arm through his once your feet are safely on the ground. While you follow his lead, you realize something that has the gears in your brain turning. Chenle is the only man you’ve ever accepted guidance from. As miniscule as it seems to allow him to walk you inside, you can’t deny how you’d willingly follow him wherever he may go.
The vote does go off without a hitch, and not even half an hour after you receive your title, you’re in an office plugging away at whatever work needs to be done. Unfortunately, you’re awfully distracted by the thought of Chenle by himself down the hall. A knock on the glass door jolts you out of your thoughts. You see Jeno standing there with a file in his hands. You beckon for him to come in, and he gestures at the seat as if to ask you if he can sit.
“Please.” You nod, folding your hands together. “Did you need something?”
The man hands you the file. “We were able to trace the owner of the bank account, and an address associated with it. I…I figured it’d be best to leave this information with you, given that this could be sensitive information.”
You open it, glancing through the charges. “It started with a different bank account and name.”
“It did. Payments were originally made to a Liu Shuye, and just over two years ago, the bank account switched to a Liu Sujia.” Jeno pauses and takes a deep breath. “I think it’d be better for you to do this portion of it on your own.”
“They have different surnames.” You tap your pen on your desk. “And you’ve never heard of this person before today?”
“Not once.”
“Very well.” You sigh and close the folder, gaze meeting Jeno’s. “Thank you. I’ll look into this further and determine at what point Chenle needs to be involved. For now, Jeno, keep this between us.”
“Of course.” Jeno nods and stands. With a quick bow of his head, he moves to the door. “He’s a good man, (Y/N). Chenle, I mean. But he feels too easily, so tread carefully with whatever you find.”
“I will.”
Once Jeno departs, you cross your arms over your chest and stare down at the information delivered. These payments were made for years, so you’re unsure of how this could relate to Chenle in specific, but you feel an overwhelming resolve to make sure whatever this is doesn’t hurt him.
Chenle came to get you from your office at almost 7pm. He refused to let you work any longer and insisted he had to take you home. Your mind has been turning since Jeno brought you the documents, but you leave them buried in your desk and lay your head on Chenle’s shoulder for the duration of the car ride home. Once you're inside the house, Chenle takes your jacket off your shoulders and hangs it. You turn to him and grab his hand.
“Come to bed with me?” you ask.
“Of course.” He gives you the softest smile, and as you walk up the stairs, he follows closely behind you.
The two of you step inside his room. Chenle closes the door and then wraps his arms around your waist and tugs your back to his chest. He buries his head in your neck, a hum escaping past his lips.
“Are you tired?” you ask him, reaching up to play with his hair.
“No,” he mumbles. “I just want to be close to you. It’s been a long day, and you make me feel better.”
“Is that so?” You face him and tilt your head.
“I was scared to fall for you, too,” he whispers. “For anyone, but especially you. I know the reasons we’re here are vastly different from a conventional marriage, but I already wanted you before all of this.”
Your heart thuds in your chest as you realize his use of past tense. He was scared. Does that mean he already has fallen for you?
“C’mere,” you mutter. “We can be closer.”
“Are you sure?” He cups your cheeks, thumbing your skin. “I know we’ve gone back and forth a couple times, but I need you to know you don’t have to do anything for me. Ever.”
“Kiss me, Chenle.”
All events of the day are forgotten as soon as his lips are on yours. His hands explore along your back, fingers clenching onto the fabric of your dress as he inhales shakily. When he pulls away, it’s only for a second, as if he can’t stop himself from going back for more.
“Please tell me this means something to you.” He gulps, his words punctuated by kisses as he turns you around and walks you backward. “That I’m not crazy for wanting you the way I do.”
As the back of your knees make contact with the bed, you grip onto his shoulders, breathless from the passion behind his kiss. “You’re not crazy. It’s terrifying how fast you’ve become all I think about. Your smile and your laugh and the passion you carry. This means everything to me.”
His eyes sparkle in the lamp-lit room, a warmth dancing around in them you’ve never seen from anyone before. He finds the zipper of your dress, slowly pulling it down.
“I hope you truly know how fucking exquisite you are,” Chenle murmurs, removing the fabric from your body and returning his touch to your back to explore your bare skin. “I don’t want to fight these feelings anymore.”
“Do something about it, then.”
The heat radiating from him keeps the chill of the air in the room off of your skin, and after he guides your back down on the mattress, he haphazardly tosses his suit jacket away. You scoot back to give him more space, and he climbs on top of you. You part your legs further, nearly gasping when he takes his spot between them, pressing against you as if he were made to fill that space. As he takes your lips with his own, you work on the buttons of his shirt. Your hands shake, making it difficult, but he doesn’t mention it. He keeps kissing you like he’ll die of thirst the second he pulls away.
You finally get the last one, and he sits up briefly to rid himself of the extra material. Before it’s even completely removed, you reach down for his belt. He stares at your hands as you unbuckle it, but you don’t have time to slide it off him. When his mouth crashes into yours again, you lift your hips up.
A quiet, needy sigh passes through his lips. “God, I fucking need you so bad.”
“I’m yours,” you tell him. “Show me how much you need me.”
He grinds down against you, and his hard length slides against the wet spot in your lace panties. That time, you do gasp. It’s been much too long since you allowed yourself pleasure by another’s hand, and you crave that closeness with Chenle.
“Can I touch you?” he asks, voice rough.
“Please.” You nod. “Touch me wherever you want.”
He curses under his breath, but he presses his lips to yours once more, then along your jawline, down your neck, and paying attention to the valley between your breasts. He squeezes the right one, rubbing his thumb against your nipple through the somewhat thick material.
“You’re so fucking pretty.” He nips at your skin, and you already know he’ll leave marks on you. Pausing, he takes a deep breath. “You—you’ve done this before, right?”
“Done what?”
“Sex.”
“I have. Why?”
“No, I just…you said you’d never been in love before and I didn’t want to just assume that you—”
“Just keep going.” You blush, but he listens to your command without hesitation.
When his mouth continues downward, leaving a trail of his saliva on your stomach until he reaches the hem of your panties. He tongues along the band, his eyes flicking up to yours.
“Good God,” you whisper, the urge between your legs becoming far too much for comfort. “What are you doing?”
“Getting my fill.” He leaves open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs.
When his thumb brushes your clit through your panties, your hips jolt. You curse, grasping onto the sheets as you prepare yourself for whatever he has planned. He smirks at your reaction, and as he pulls at your underwear, you lift up to urge him to move faster. He wraps his arms around your legs, his hands pressing your hips down into the mattress. Even though he opens his mouth to speak to you, his eyes don’t leave your glistening core.
“You can stop me if you change your mind. Just tell me.” He gulps, wetting his lips like he’s struggling to hold back.
“I won’t change my mind,” you reassure him.
“But you need to know it’s always an option.” He squeezes you gently, and without awaiting your response, he slides his tongue from your entrance to your clit.
No matter how embarrassing it is, you can’t stop the whimper escaping you. His tongue flicks your clit one, two, three times as he digs his nails into your skin. Pleasure isn’t entirely foreign to you, but you’re sure it’s the way your soul has begun craving Chenle’s that makes this so much better than anything else you’ve experienced. His grip on you keeps you from squirming too much, but you try regardless. As he steadily moves over your clit, your back arches off the mattress. Whines leave your mouth as you run your fingers through Chenle’s hair in encouragement.
He takes your sensitive bud into his mouth, sucking to add pressure, only to release it and start all over again. You lift yourself on your elbows to watch him, all while practically pushing his head further between your legs. His eyes are closed, and seeing his lips work on your core has to be one of the most erotic things you’ve ever witnessed.
“You taste so fucking good,” he groans, the vibrations against your entrance sending shivers up and down your spine.
You feel yourself approaching the edge. Your body tenses, but your high won’t take you. Cursing quietly, you lift your hips in an attempt to figure out why the hell you can’t get out of your head. Chenle pulls away from your core, pressing kisses to your inner thigh. “Relax, darling. It doesn’t matter how long it takes.”
“Please just…” You drop your head back on the mattress and let out a defeated breath. “I want all of you.”
He leans over to the bedside table and grabs a condom, trailing his lips up your body once more until he reaches your neck. His teeth graze your skin. “You can trust me, (Y/N). I’ll take care of you.”
“I do,” you mutter, running your fingers through his hair. “I swear I do.”
“It’s not me you have to convince.” He nips your collarbone. “We don’t have to keep going if you’re not ready.”
You shake your head. “I’m ready. I want you.”
“Okay.” He nods, pulling back to meet your gaze. His features are soft, nothing short of adoration in his eyes. “Try not to think about it too much. Just feel.”
“I’ve never been good at that.” You chuckle and grin at him.
“I’ll show you how, baby. I’ve got you.”
You crane upwards to kiss him, and he meets you in the middle. Tasting yourself on his tongue has you sighing into him, and you push at his pants in hopes that he’ll take the hint. He pauses to rid himself of the rest of his clothing, and then slides his hands beneath you to unclasp your bra. You arch your back to give him more space, and soon enough, nothing separates you from your husband anymore.
“You’re sure?” he asks you again, grabbing the wrapper once more.
“I want you,” you confirm.
Despite the confidence you usually feel, something here feels more…vulnerable than you’ve ever been. Your heart flutters in your chest as he opens the condom and slides it on, and you spread your legs further as he climbs over you again. No man has ever made you nervous before, even in similar situations, but something with him is different. You care about him. You want him to feel good, too, and you crave his promises of taking care of you.
“Need you to relax,” he whispers, peppering kisses on your jawline as he lines himself up with your soaked entrance. “Close your eyes, darling, just let yourself feel.”
You tilt your head back to give him better access to your neck, and you listen to him. Through the darkness, you see the world you drew on his ceiling, the one with beautiful landscapes, overarching mountains, fresh, clean streams, and you sigh in content. The middle of the map, the location you craved to be in, is right here. With him. His breath catches in his throat as he slides inside you, his length stretching you. He gulps and rests his head on your shoulder as he attempts to steady himself. You tangle your fingers in his hair, combing through the midnight strands. After both of you calm down from the initial overwhelming movement, you wrap your legs around his waist and lock your ankles together, tugging him up to kiss you. His lips work softly on yours, and he slowly grinds against you. He pulls out until only the tip is inside, and as he pushes back in, he moans into your mouth. Your body shudders at the sound.
“Tell me how it feels,” he says, chest pressed to yours. “How do I make you feel?”
“Chenle, I—” You blush despite the situation.
“You don’t have to be shy with me, baby. Let me help you.” He repeats his previous movement, and you watch as his eyes flutter from the pleasure. “I can tell you how it feels for me.”
You nod. “Please.”
The pace he sets is slow but has electricity coursing through your veins anyway. He continues to pull out almost all the way, just to allow you to experience the entirety of his length rubbing against your inner walls.
He gulps, pressing his lips to your ear. “You’re divine, darling. You’re squeezing me so tight, I could stay here forever. It’s like you were fucking made for me, soaked and so fucking warm, baby, you take me so well.”
Everything he does is like a lightning strike, every fiber in your muscles breaking down as you yearn for this completion. You know you’ll never be able to stay away from him. Even if you don’t finish, this journey is just as good as the destination.
“Feels like I’m on fire,” you whisper. Thankfully, your eyes are closed, or he’d see them roll back. “You’re everywhere and it’s still not enough.”
He picks up his pace a bit, and a moan tumbles from your lips. He holds himself up on one of his elbows, his other hand gripping your thigh.
“That’s it.” He kisses you, gently biting at your bottom lip as he pulls away. “I could never have enough of you. Need you always. Forever.”
Your heart thuds against your ribcage, and despite the pleasure clouding your brain, you allow those words to sink in through your skin and bones, deeper still until they reach your soul. There, they repeat over and over again until they’re permanently tattooed upon every recognizable piece of yourself. The hand on your thigh skirts downwards, his palm pressing on your abdomen as his thumb brushes your clit. You jolt and whine, digging your nails into his shoulders. He curses, but doesn’t let up. As the knot forms in your stomach, you open your eyes to watch Chenle, his face scrunched in pleasure as your walls flutter around him as your high approaches. He doesn’t look away from you, and as you lift your hips to match his thrusts, his fist clenches the sheets next to your head.
“So fucking wet,” he groans, his thumb never faltering in pace as he rocks his hips against yours. “You’re so perfect, darling. Gonna let me feel you cum?”
Between the slide of his length inside you and the pressure on your sensitive bud, you’re dazed at best. You nod, gripping onto him.
“I’m so close,” you whimper. “God, I want it so bad.”
Chenle adjusts his hips, and the next time he thrusts in, he hits a spot that has you seeing stars. You’ve never unraveled like this before, but your body shakes as overwhelming pleasure takes over, your vision spotting as you cry out and grip onto your husband. Your toes curl as he quickens his pace, and it doesn’t take much longer for him to press himself as deep as he can to finish in the condom. His body slumps on top of yours, his chest heaving as he presses his lips across your hot skin.
“(Y/N)...” he says between pants. “Oh, my God.”
You let out a breathless giggle. “I didn’t do any of the work.”
“Promise you, just you being here is more than enough for me.” He kisses your cheek and gently removes your legs from his waist. “I’ll be right back.”
You stop yourself from whining at the loss of him inside you, but as he goes to dispose of the condom, you get yourself clothes to put on. You slide a new pair of panties on before setting your silk pajama set on the bed.
Chenle’s arm wraps around your waist, and he presses his back to your chest. “What are you doing?”
“Getting dressed.” You chuckle. “What should I be doing?”
“Absolutely nothing.” He presses a kiss to the base of your neck. “Supposed to be naked in bed and waiting for me.”
“Ah, is that so?” You pretend to be in thought, tapping your fingers on his wrist.
“Mhm. Don’t you know bare skin-to-skin contact promotes good bonding?” He pulls you away from the foot of the bed and guides you back to where he left you. “Bet you’ll sleep better, too.”
The two of you climb into bed together, and despite the way your internal temperature is much too high, you still thrive in the extra warmth of his embrace. You rest your head on his chest, his nails gently scratching up and down your back. He falls asleep first, his steady breathing nearly lulling you as well. You adjust your head on the pillow so you can see the softness of his features, and you allow yourself to reach up and trace along his cheekbone. If anyone had asked you at the beginning if you’d ever thought a moment as intimate as this were possible, you’d quickly tell them no. There was no way you’d ever let yourself be so vulnerable with anyone. Especially not someone who has no obligations to you other than legally marrying you.
But this is more. It’s so much more than a business arrangement, and maybe a part of you has always known that. It wasn’t hating him you were scared of, but loving him.
But here you are. And you’re long past falling.
Your morning is unfortunately hectic in the wake of the events of last night. Of course, you should’ve expected moments of relaxation in your marriage to be nearly non-existent, but neither you nor Chenle wanted to get out of bed. Despite that, today you planned on going to the address listed on the bank account. You roped Jisung in, even though he didn’t know all the details. He’s your cousin, after all, and he wasn’t going to let you do anything potentially dangerous on your own. Although, you’re not sure he could do anything in a ‘dangerous’ situation anyway. He may be physically giant, but he truly acted like a teddy bear.
You and Jisung sit in the backseat while the driver takes you to the house, and you’re flipping through a binder of papers while Jisung is on his phone.
“You know.” He pauses, waiting for your attention. “I stopped by your house last night.”
You turn to him and frown. “You did? How come I didn’t see you?”
“When I arrived, the staff said it would be best not to interrupt you at the time. They didn’t really say why, but I can only imagine. Either you and Chenle were in the process of murdering each other, or you guys are really going all in on the heir making.”
Your face heats up and you scratch your head. “I—I took your advice, is all. We’re kind of trying to figure things out, I think.”
“Uh huh. So the turtleneck isn’t a strategic move?”
“Park Jisung!” You push his shoulder. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”
“No, of course not.” He bites back his teasing grin. “I’m just saying, it’s good that you’re opening up to him. You guys are pretty much stuck together, so you should at least try to make the best of things.”
“But yes, we are certainly…making the best of things.” You grin to yourself and focus back on your binder.
“So, I can stop hearing your dad complain about no heir news soon?” He rolls his eyes. “That man is truly insufferable.”
You shake your head. “Can’t say the possibility is zero, but we used protection, so probably not. And yes, my father is insufferable. When he came over last time, he implied Chenle was impotent in front of both of his parents.”
“I’m shocked by both—why not try for pregnancy if you’re already sleeping together? And why would you not being pregnant after two months mean Chenle’s impotent?”
“You just live for drama, don’t you?” You quirk an eyebrow at him. “My husband would prefer to only have a family if it’s a real one. Meaning we would love each other. And I don’t question my father’s logic. I’m not sure how he got as far as he has in business when he lacks so much common sense. Like I’m a breeding mule or something.”
“Huh.” Jisung pauses and slumps back against his seat. “Aren’t you lucky?”
“Luck has nothing to do with it, Andy. None of this is short of hard work.”
Your driver opens the door, and before Jisung can respond, you’re stepping onto the sidewalk. The house in front of you is in a suburb, an exact replica of everything else around it. It’s not remarkable by any means. For someone making over half a million dollars every year, they sure do still live modestly.
“Don’t say a word,” you warn Jisung. “I’ll handle this.”
“Considering I have no idea what’s going on, I will happily let that happen.”
You stop at the front door, knocking three times. Standing completely rigid, you wait for anyone to answer. Once it opens, you’re confronted by a surprised woman. Her hair is long and black, reaching the center of her back. Brown eyes widen in shock.
“You can’t be here.” She moves to shut the door, but Jisung stops it over your shoulder.
“I’m—”
“You’re Chenle’s wife. I know who you are.” Her jaw tightens. “You need to go.”
“Unfortunately, that’s not an option. I’m here on company business, because apparently someone decided sending $143,000 a quarter to your bank account was acceptable. You can let me in, or we can make a spectacle out here. It’s your choice.”
The woman, who can’t be too far from your age, blinks through her frustration and opens the door wider for you to step inside. You do, and she gestures to the couch.
“Have a seat. I’ll grab us all some water.” She exits the room, and you and Jisung sit down on the couch.
Despite you being resilient in hiding your nerves from people, Jisung is able to read you like a book. “Don’t jump to conclusions,” Jisung warns you quietly. “You have no idea what’s going on.”
“Right. Only her being familiar enough with my husband to only use his first name. Not a big deal at all.” You clench your fists together.
“You said he had no idea about the payments.”
“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t know her.” You shake your head. “He has no idea I’m here.”
Movement catches your attention, and you see eyes peeking around the corner. Your jaw drops before you can stop yourself, and then the small child steps into the open. You grasp onto Jisung’s sleeve, and those conclusions he told you not to jump to? Yeah, you dive into them.
“Who are you?” he asks. He can’t be more than four, and he looks achingly familiar.
“Jisung,” you whisper.
Jisung leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m Jisung. Who are you?”
“My name is Yichen.” He walks over and sits on the coffee table in front of you and your cousin. “I’m almost five.”
“Wow,” Jisung feigns surprise. “You’re getting so old.”
“That’s what my mommy says, too.” He scrunches up his face.
You’re struggling to breathe at this point, and that’s when Sujia decides to come back. She curses under her breath the second she recognizes her child in the room, and she quickly sets the glasses of water down before shooing him back up the stairs. You’re suddenly, painfully aware of Chenle telling you he’s been in love before. Of knowing there are women out there he’s wanted in the same way he’s sure he wants you.
“I think I’m going to puke,” you whisper to Jisung, careful not to let Sujia hear. “You don’t think…?”
Before Jisung can confirm or deny whether your suspicions are valid, Sujia sits across from you on the couch. The first thing you do is look for a ring on her finger, and when you don’t find one, you feel an unmistakable lump form in your throat.
“Why are you here?” she asks. “I’ve done everything I was supposed to. I haven’t told anyone anything, and my son and I are peacefully living far away from everything.”
“That’s the issue. I haven’t the faintest clue who you struck some sort of deal with for this money, nor do I know why. And if you want the payments to continue, you’ll tell me everything.”
“Is there something in specific you’d like to ask?” She frowns.
“What makes you say that?”
“You suddenly look like you’re ready to rip my throat out,” Sujia retorts.
“The child. Is he Chenle’s?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.
Sujia visibly recoils, eyes widening as she glances between you and Jisung. “You…Are you joking? Of course not. Chenle—dear God, Chenle’s my brother.”
You swear your life flashed before your eyes, and as you drop your head into your hands, you let out a shaky sigh of relief. Your heart still races, but it starts to slow at the news that your husband doesn’t have a secret child.
“I’m sorry, your brother?” Jisung asks. “I wasn’t aware Chenle had any siblings.”
“No one is. That’s why we’re receiving the payments.” She pauses, wetting her lips. “Chenle’s father—our father—met my mother many years ago. I see him quite often, and he’s aware he has a grandchild. I figured he never told Chenle, and this confirms my suspicions. Considering his parents never divorced, I can only assume it’s because she is also unaware.”
“He recently became aware of the payments.” Because of you. “And quite honestly, I don’t think this news will sit well with him.”
“Don’t.” Sujia shakes her head frantically. “Don’t tell him. We…We need that money, okay? And he has full power to take it away from us.”
“Do you know anything about him?” you ask her.
“Just what our father told me.”
“Chenle is exponentially kind. He’d never simply cut ties and leave you to struggle. It’s not like you lied to him by choice.” You take a deep breath and brush your skirt off. “He’s the best man I know. And for that reason, I could never intentionally keep this from him. I’m sorry.”
“I understand.” Sujia runs her tongue along her teeth.
“And on the off chance he doesn’t continue payments, I will personally make sure you’re okay.”
“You actually care about him.” She tilts her head at you.
“It’s hard not to care for someone like him.” You stand up. “I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time. And for thinking your child was my husband’s. Thank you for talking to me. Can we exchange numbers? I can keep you updated on how things go.”
You make haste of retrieving her number, and then you and Jisung leave the house. Once you're back in the car, you let out a long, pent up breath. You tug your fingers through your hair and curse quietly.
“Are you okay?” Jisung asks.
“Honestly? I’m okay now that I know this isn’t Chenle’s fuck up.” You nod. “I think I need to pay his father a visit.”
“You’re going to confront…his father?”
“I’m going to confirm the story, obviously. And if it’s true, I’m going to tell him what an incredible fuck up he is.” You turn off the emotions switch, your face going stone cold. “Chenle looks up to that prick.”
When you arrive at his parents’ house, you’re greeted by staff and Chenle’s mother. Jisung opts to stay in the car, and his mother rushes to bring you further into the house.
“Ah, (Y/N), what a pleasant surprise.”
Not if she doesn’t know about the secret child.
“What brings you here?” she asks.
“Chenle requested I bring these files for his father. Is he here?” You smile at her.
“Of course. He’s in his office. It’s down the hall, all the way to the back on the right.” She pats your shoulder.
You bow your head to her in thanks, and then you make your way down the hall. Knocking once, you await his confirmation to walk in. He sits behind the giant desk, glasses hanging on the edge of his nose. You note a lot of Chenle’s features come from him, but you can’t believe how vastly different they truly are.
“(Y/N).” He leans back on his chair. “Was I expecting you?”
“No.” You approach him and drop the paper with her bank account information on it. “Liu Sujia.”
His eyes widen, barely noticeably, and he looks at you. “Where did you hear that name?”
“Did you think no one would notice payments that high to a random bank account? From the company?”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about. A bank account means nothing. You can’t even be sure I was the one facilitating such payments. Chenle has been CEO for years now, so it’s been under his nose, too—”
“I don’t need your excuses. Or your explanations. You’re not my father, and quite frankly, I don’t care about the state of your family.” You glare at the man in front of you. “But I also spoke with Ms. Liu. She has a child. Your grandson, and Chenle’s nephew. You think he doesn’t deserve to know?”
“If you don’t care about the state of my family, why are you doing this now?”
“Because I care about my family. And the second Chenle married me, he became part of it. And while you may not love your son, I do. I won’t let you lie to him.” The words fall right out without a second thought, and you fight the embarrassment of admitting your feelings to his father before Chenle.
“So, why come here? Why not go right to Chenle?”
“I’m sure he will have his own things to say to you later. I wanted the chance to let you know, objectively, what a selfish asshole you are. Your son idolizes you for the life you built for him. For showing him that a man can be loyal to a wife he may not love, if not for his child’s sake. But you weren’t. Everything he respects you for is a lie, and you’re despicable for being okay with that.”
“How dare you come into my home and talk to me this way?” His eyebrows furrow in anger, and he leans forward, but you don’t even flinch.
“I don’t fear you,” you hiss at him. “You are human, just like everyone else. If you deserve to be scolded like a child, I have no problem being the only one with enough balls to do it. If you lose Chenle because of this, I hope you lie in your fucking grave. I’ll pay people to dance on it.”
You turn your back on him, throwing the door open and stomping down the hallway before you give him the opportunity to say anything else. Sending a smile towards Chenle’s mother, you nod once at her before walking back outside to your car.
Gaining the courage to tell Chenle takes much longer than you’d like. You get back to your office, finding Chenle waiting for you. He smiles at you, one of his genuine, happy ones, and presses a quick kiss to your lips as you approach him.
“I never thought I’d find a time where the CEO’s not busy,” you tease him. “What are you doing here?”
“I figured we could take a break and go get some lunch.” He tugs you closer. “It’s been a long day, and all I want is to be with my wife. Is that so wrong?”
You purse your lips and tilt your head. “Wrong? No. Crazy? Maybe a smidge.”
“Wow, you just called me crazy. That hurt.” He chuckles.
“How about we just order something and eat it here?” you ask. “I have a bunch of stuff to do, but I would love for you to be with me.”
“Of course. What did you want to eat? I’ll tell the secretary to order it.”
“Whatever you’re thinking is good,” you tell him, leaning back on your desk. “I’m not too picky.”
“I’ll be right back.” He kisses your cheek, and when he closes the door behind him, you let out a sigh. It feels like you’re lying to him now, but you couldn’t drop something huge like that on him now.
Not when he was looking at you with such affection. What if you telling him this makes him hate you, too?
When he comes back, he sits across from you and rests his head on his palm. “Are you okay?”
“Huh?” You frown at him. “What do you mean?”
“You’re just acting…different, I don’t know. Is this about last night? Did I do something wrong?” His forehead creases with worry, and your heart sinks in your chest.
“No, no, last night was good. I really liked last night.” You try to fight off the embarrassment at your words, but it doesn’t work very well. The tips of your ears burn.
“Okay.” He reaches across the desk and grabs your hand. “You don’t have to tell me what’s going on. As long as I’m not the one making you feel that way, I can wait until you want to talk about it.”
“Chenle,” you whisper, squeezing him. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being you.” You glance down. “For not being what I expected.”
“I want to take care of you. Not because I think you can’t, but because I want to. I can be a safe space for you, and I’d never do anything to harm that image.”
You stand up and walk over to him, grabbing both of his hands. “I think I might be able to let you do that.”
“I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this.” He pulls you closer until you’re straddling his lap. “You amaze me every day.”
“We’re at work,” you scold him.
“I don’t see you trying to move,” he teases, palms exploring your back. “I was kinda sad we had to rush this morning. I would’ve loved to just lay there with you for as long as possible.”
You relax on top of him, fighting a smile as you study him closely. “I need to stop wearing lipstick.”
“Why?” he asks. “Do you wanna kiss me again?”
“I want to kiss you a lot.” You nod.
“I can wipe lipstick off.”
“What if mine gets smudged?”
“Tell people to mind their business. We’re newlyweds.” He watches your expression as his hands dip down to grip your ass through your dress. “I think the newlywed era started yesterday. Because all I want to do is be with you. All over you. Inside you.”
“Jesus Christ, Chenle.” You smack his chest. “Composure.”
He grins. “C’mon. You were thinking it, too.”
“We certainly can’t do it here,” you tell him.
“It’s my building.”
You give him a pointed look. “I’m trying to get your employees to respect me. They won’t if they think I’m here simply because I let you screw me on the desk.”
“I gave you the position before I ever even slept with you.”
“They don’t know that.” You roll your eyes and clamber off his lap. “There actually is something I wanted to talk to you about later at home. Are you leaving at a decent time?”
“I figured we’d leave together whenever you were done. If that’s okay.” Chenle clasps his hands together in his lap.
“Perfect.”
Before you do anything else with him, you need to tell him about his father. You just hope you don’t lose your husband in the process.
You bring the binder home with you. On the car ride home, you loop your arm through Chenle’s and rest your head on his shoulder. He can sense your nervous energy and tries to soothe you with a kiss to your head. You and Chenle go upstairs, and you sit on the edge of the bed. He follows suit despite your nerves transferring into him the longer you stay silent.
“I wanted to talk to you about that charge we found.” You put your hand on his knee. “And it’s a lot, okay? So I just want you to listen to me.”
He frowns but nods in response.
“Jeno and Jisung helped me with it. Jeno found out the account belonged to a woman, and there was an address associated with it. Jisung went with me to the house, and when we got there, I met with the woman.” You pause and scratch the top of your head. “She has a little boy. He’s almost five. And to be honest, it was a possibility in my head that you might’ve…I don’t know, accidentally fathered a child, but thankfully, it wasn’t that.”
“(Y/N), who is she?”
“She’s your sister. Your half-sister, I guess.” You gulp, refusing to make eye contact with him. “And the little boy is your nephew.”
“Oh.” His voice shakes uncharacteristically, and he inhales.
“Your dad has been paying her and her mother off for years so you and your mother didn’t find out.” You close your eyes. “And she begged me not to tell you because she’s scared she’ll stop receiving her money. Which I get, honestly, but I couldn’t keep this from you. Not when I know how—”
“(Y/N), please. I need a second.” He drops his head in his palms. His jaw tightens, and he angles his gaze to the ceiling.
“Come here,” you murmur, opening your arms for him. Immediately, he melts into your grasp, resting on your chest as you stroke the top of his head. “I’m so sorry.”
He grasps the fabric of your dress in his fist as he uses you to ground himself. “The whole time I admired him for being better, he just fucking sucked?”
You can’t tell if it’s anger or sadness that makes his voice shake.
“You’re sure?”
You nod. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that,” he tells you. “You didn’t do this.”
“No, I didn’t, but I love you, Chenle. I hate seeing you like this.” You and Chenle both tense up. He lifts his head to look at you, and your heart nearly shatters at the welled up tears in his eyes. You keep looking at him, more than nervous for his response.
“What?” His voice is hoarse, almost like it’s caught in his throat. “What did you say?”
“It’s not important right now, okay? I wasn’t thinking.” Your own tears form, and you try your best to blink them away. “No thinking, just feeling didn’t really work in this situation, huh?”
“You love me?” He cups your cheek and turns you to him. “Do you mean that?”
“Are you kidding me?” You scoff. “Of course, I do.”
You shouldn’t have done that now, given how overwhelmed he is, but it truly slipped out. He stares at you in shock, and when he parts his lips, a tear slips down his cheek. You shake your head, reaching forward and wiping it away with your thumb.
“Don’t cry,” you say. “This is all so much, I shouldn’t have dropped that on you like this, I’m so sorry—”
“Stop apologizing. Please.”
“I don’t ever want to hurt you.”
“Darling, at this point, you’re the only one who hasn’t.” He rests his forehead on yours. “And you…you loving me makes all of this worth it. Nobody has that power over me when I have you by my side.”
“I do. I love you.” You sniffle and hold him tighter.
“I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you walk into the room. I love you when you’re a thousand steps ahead of me, and I love you when you’re walking my pace. All the time, without fail and without reprieve.”
Every bit of oxygen is stolen right from your lungs, and all you want to do is scream and cry and punch his father in the face. Such a pathetic man doesn’t deserve a son like Chenle.
“Zhong Chenle, you’ve broken me in all the best ways. That terrible wall, the shell around my heart…I don’t want to face the world alone anymore. I need you with me.” You rub your thumbs along his cheeks, swiping up the next couple tears that fall.
“I will be better than my father. Than yours. We’ll do this the right way, okay?” He inhales sharply.
“I don’t doubt that one bit.” You lean forward and kiss his forehead. “What are you thinking? What do you want to do about all of this?”
“I’d like to meet her. My sister. And my nephew.” He chews the inside of his cheek. “She won’t have to worry about money. We’ll have to stop paying her through the company, but it’ll come out of our personal account. If that’s alright with you.”
“Somehow, I had a feeling you’d say that. Of course, that’s okay with me.”
“Can you set that up please?” he asks softly. “I honestly don’t know how, and she already knows you so…”
“You don’t have to explain. I’ll do it.” You run your fingers through his hair. “You’re the bravest person I know. Not everyone would handle it the way you are.”
“We’ll figure this out, yeah?”
“Between the two of us, there’s not a problem in this world we couldn’t solve.” You kiss the tip of his nose and stand from the bed, holding your hand out to him.
“What?”
“I was thinking we could take a bath. Help each other relax.”
He gives you a tired smile and nods. “That sounds amazing.”
You start the water and put a more-than-appropriate amount of the bubble bath liquid in it. Tying your hair up to prevent it from getting wet, you smile to yourself when you feel Chenle’s hands on your waist.
“Need some help getting this off?” He tugs on your dress.
“I might need help with everything,” you hum, letting your eyes flutter shut as he unzips your dress.
Once it's thrown across the room, you unbutton Chenle’s shirt, pushing it from his shoulders. Soon enough, both of you are beneath water and bubbles, and his arms are locked firmly around your waist. You rest against his chest, allowing the lavender scent to soothe your stress.
“Y’know what we’re missing?” you mumble. “Champagne.”
“I can have someone bring it to us. Just say the word.” He kisses your temple.
You shake your head. “We’re naked.”
“They’re professionals.” He laughs and squeezes you. “And I can have them leave it in the bedroom.”
“Right, and make sure there’s a heart made out of flower petals on the bed.” You roll your eyes.
“You can have anything you desire, (Y/N). You’re my wife. The sky’s truly the limit.” He explores your skin out of curiosity, mapping his way around your body.
You sit up and look over your shoulder at him. “You know what I want?”
He raises his eyebrows in response.
“I want it all.” You grab his hand. “I want you. The good days and the bad ones. Whatever trial comes our way, I want us to figure it out together.”
“Do you…Do you actually want children? Or is that something you feel like you have to do?” he asks.
“Honestly, I don’t know. There was a brief moment when I met Sujia and Yichen that I thought…I thought that he could’ve been yours. I mean, he looks like you a little bit, but he’s your nephew so that’s not weird. When that became a possibility in my head, it hurt. Stung, is more like it. I guess I figured that any children you’d have would be mine as well, and to think there were others you might have—”
“Darling,” he coos, tightening his grip on you. “I promise you, I do not have any secret children. Nor will I ever. You will be very, very aware of any child I have. I don’t want them if it’s not with you.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder.
“That’s good.” You nod and lean back against him once more. “We have time to think about it, right?”
“Take as much time as you need.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m not going anywhere.”
You hesitated to have Chenle meet Sujia so quickly. A week passes before you consider reaching out to her, and you know Chenle is waiting for it. She has to be too, at this point, probably worried about whether or not her money supply was going to be cut off. He has yet to confront his father, but you assume that will come with time. For now, you’re curled up next to him in bed, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. Finally, it’s a rest day for you both, and you get to spend the whole day with him uninterrupted.
His fingers run through your hair, a deep breath passing by his lips. “Darling.”
“Hm?” You move closer to him, burying your head in his neck.
“Kiss me?”
You don’t hesitate to do as he asks, humming against his lips as the two of you connect. He shifts to his side to get closer to you, his hand trailing from your hip, down your leg, until he finds the back of your knee. Pulling your leg over his waist, he shuffles closer to you, pressing his body to yours.
“What are you doing?” you ask him, smiling.
“Loving you,” he replies easily, sliding his hand back up to your ass. The thin fabric of your shorts does little to hide the sensation of him squeezing you. You don’t mean to gasp, but you attempt to distract him by tangling your fingers in his hair.
“Tell me what you want.” You pull back to get a good look at him.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he admits. “How fucking good you made me feel.”
“More.”
“You’ve been telling me you love me for a week now and I haven’t been able to hear it when I’m inside you. God, I never thought I’d be like this. It’s only been a week.” He squeezes you harder, pushing his hard length against you.
As he grinds himself slowly into your core, you curse and wrap your arms around him. “Why did you wait this long?” you ask him breathlessly.
“Didn’t wanna push you.” He kisses along your neck, nipping wherever he can reach. “Don’t want you to think this is all I want. Fucking been hard all day, darling. Every time you walked into the fucking room all week, instantly ready to bend you over.”
Your body shudders as you process his words. “Why don’t you lay back? Let me take care of you.”
“I need you so bad,” he groans. “I could cum just hearing you talk like that.”
You push him onto his back and quickly straddle him. Rolling your hips, you curse under your breath as you feel his hard length against your clit.
“Chenle,” you mutter, trailing your hands beneath his shirt. “Do you prefer ass or tits?”
“That’s an odd question.”
“You won’t regret answering.”
“Ass.”
“Perfect. Do you have a condom?” You raise your eyebrows at him.
“They’re in the bedside table—darling, I didn’t prep you yet—”
“You’re not the only one who’s needy,” you interrupt him, quickly moving to grab one of the wrappers. Before you climb on top of him again, you kiss his cheek. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want, my love. You don’t have to ask.”
You shove your shorts and panties down, and as you pull at his sweats and boxers, his fists clench at his sides. His length smacks against his stomach, and he wraps his fingers around himself to relieve some of the ache. You didn’t get to see it much the first time, but you take a second to appreciate just how fucking pretty he is. He’s so hard, it’s probably starting to hurt.
He runs his thumb over the tip and gasps. “Baby, please.”
You waste no more time in getting the condom on him, and then you straddle his lap again, but backwards this time. As you quickly sink down on his length, taking him all the way inside, he moans loudly.
“God, you’re so fucking hot.” He drags his nails down your back until he reaches your ass, and then he grips you tightly with both hands. “You needed me, too, huh? Dripping all over me when I haven’t even touched you yet.”
You brace yourself on the mattress between his legs, and set a fast, steady pace. He moans every time you sink all the way down, and your fingers curl into the sheets. You easily ignore the ache beginning in your thighs when you listen to him and how good you’re making him feel. He spurs you on, his moans slowly turning to higher pitched whines.
“Can we—fuck, can we try something?” Chenle asks, gripping your hips to hold you still.
“Whatever you need.” You shakily lift yourself off of him, and he quickly moves from below you. He removes his shirt before aiding you in doing the same.
He guides you to arch your back, your face pressed into the mattress as your walls clench around nothing. His tip catches on your clit, and your body jolts, but you grip onto the sheets instead.
“Gonna fuck you good, darling. Wanna hear you the whole time, got it?” His voice sends needles of pleasure pricking into your spine, and you know you can ignore everything else once he’s buried inside you.
“Yes.” You nod. Your fingers curl into the sheets as he slides in. The angle has you seeing stars, and your mouth falls open at the sensation.
His hands squeeze your ass as he starts slowly, the rub of him against your walls making your legs tremble already. You worry briefly about being too distracted, but as reaches around you to put his hand between your legs, all thoughts besides the way he feels completely obliterate. He rubs your clit in pace with his thrusts, his breathing uneven as he works your body as if he’s touched you for years. You barely recognize yourself when your moans slip past your lips. You’ve never let go like this before, and through your daze, you push yourself back against him. He tentatively smacks your ass, light enough to make you crave the contact. You can’t breathe as you curse.
“Again,” you whine, your entire being on the brink of collapse. “More.”
“Earn it, baby,” he commands. “You know what I want to hear.”
You let out a shuddering breath as his tip nudges that spot inside you. “Fuck, I love you. I need more.”
He smacks you harder this time, and the loud, needy moan that pours from your lips gets distorted by the way he starts to slam his hips against you. His fingers speed up on your clit, and you’re already teetering on the edge. Sounds of your arousal emanate around the room, mixing with both of your moans. His skin clapping against yours has every muscle in your body craving the release you know is so, so close.
As your high smashes into you like a tidal wave, the pleasure is so overwhelming, you cry out and clench onto the sheets. Chenle curses as his thrusts begin to falter, but you barely hear him. You’re much too sensitive, and you whimper as his fingers still work your bud. Without warning, he pulls out of you. You whine at the loss, attempting to push back, but he grips your hips and flips you onto your back. Gasping at the sudden movement, you grab for him as he climbs over you.
“What are you doing?” you ask breathlessly.
“I need to see you, darling.” He inhales sharply as he pushes back inside you. “And kiss you.”
His lips connect with yours as he keeps his steady pace. His chest rubs yours, the heat almost unbearable as your tongues fight for dominance. A groan slipping out of his mouth interrupts your kiss, and next thing you know, he’s as deep as he can get, panting against your collarbone.
“Fuck,” he whispers. “I love you.”
“Me too,” you reply, breathless as you run your fingers through his hair. “I love you, too.”
“That wasn’t too much, was it?” He peppers kisses anywhere he can reach—your neck, your chest, your shoulders.
You shake your head. “No, I’m just a little surprised. You can tell me when you want me, you know. You don’t have to wait for me to initiate.”
“It’s been…an interesting week, you know?” He pulls out of you, kissing you softly one last time before he goes into the bathroom to get rid of the condom. When he comes back, he lays down on top of you again. “I came twice.”
You recoil, angling your head to look at him. “Just now?”
“Yep. Came when you were on top of me, too,” he hums in content. “And I’ll have you know that’s never happened to me before.”
“Had someone on top of you or finished twice?”
“The second one.” He pauses. “But I—”
“You don’t have to explain.” You snort. “I have a past, too.”
“That’s good. Don’t wanna move,” he mumbles, pushing his head further into your neck.
You laugh. “Don’t, then.”
Chenle falls asleep fairly quickly, and you kiss his forehead before wiggling out from under him. You grab a new pair of panties and slide them on before grabbing one of his button-downs. It’s much too late for any of the staff to be out and about, so you grab your phone and head to the kitchen. When you look at the screen, the worry settles back in the pit of your stomach. Sujia had texted you forty-five minutes ago, asking you for an update on the situation. After a week, you think Chenle has probably had at least a little bit of time to come to terms with everything. You text her back to let her know Chenle wants to meet her, and then you get your water. You don’t want Chenle to ever feel hurt like that again, but it’s not going to just disappear. You know better than that. But it doesn’t change how seeing him so upset broke you to pieces, too. If you could, you’d ruin anything that even tried.
He was right all along.
Being in love doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It makes you stronger. Gives you a purpose other than what is required of you when you’re from certain bloodlines. From the beginning, you were sure Chenle would never—could never—mean anything to you, and even though he told you otherwise, you had to find out for yourself. You’d start wars for him. You’d do anything to make sure he was okay, because at the end of the day, he truly is the only person to love you without conditions involved. He cares for you not because he has to, not because he’s forced to, but because he wants to. Because he chooses to. You refill the glass for Chenle and head back upstairs. When you open the door, he stirs, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he turns and sits up.
“Where’d you go?” he asks, running his fingers through his hair.
“Water.” You hold the glass up and set it next to him on the bedside table. Standing at the edge of the bed, you look at him, unable to fight the small smile forming.
“What?” He raises an eyebrow at you.
“You’re just…” You chuckle and shake your head. “Shut up. You’re just really cute like this.”
He holds his arm out to you. “Pinch me. I’m pretty sure I’m still dreaming.”
“Oh, you’re hilarious.” You smack at his wrist.
He tugs gently on the bottom hem of the shirt you’re wearing. “I like this on you.”
“It was the first thing I found.” Embarrassment climbs through you. “Sorry, I should’ve asked.”
“What part of that sounded like I wanted you to ask?” He snorts. “You’re always welcome to anything here. You should know that by now. But you’ve been away from me for way too long. C’mere.”
He opens his arms for you, and you chuckle and climb into bed next to him. When he lays on his side, he tugs you to follow suit. You listen to him, staring into his eyes while his thumb rubs on your hip through the white fabric.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
“For what?”
“For trying with me. Not running away. Letting me love you. The list is honestly endless.” He kisses your forehead. “Not to mention I really would’ve fucking lost my mind with all of that stuff last week if you hadn’t been there.”
“Speaking of.” You shuffle closer to him. “She wants to meet you. And I really think you should do it, because at the end of the day, she’s your sister, you know?”
Chenle hesitates, thousands of emotions crossing through his gaze like a storm. “You’re right. You can set it up for whenever, and I’ll be there.”
“I’m sorry this happened, Chenle.” You intertwine your fingers with his. “And I want you to know that, no matter how you’re feeling, you can tell me. I want to help you process.”
“I’ll be okay, darling. Truly. It’ll just take some time getting used to it. I do think it’ll be nice to have a sibling, although she’ll probably hate me for…I don’t know. Being legitimate?”
You laugh, burying your head in his neck. “You’re not taking her money away, so I doubt she’ll hate you.”
He hums quietly, sleep still heavy in his voice as he pulls you flush against him. “I shouldn’t be able to love you this much yet. Slow down, would you?”
“You, of all people, should know that those words do not exist in my vocabulary.” You close your eyes and breathe him in. “I love you, too.”
Sujia sets the day for the upcoming Saturday, and so while the days pass, you witness Chenle slowly lose his mind. He’s not upset at Sujia at all, but he obviously is with his father. It’s an incredibly large secret to keep from your family, so he has every right to those feelings. The entire car ride to her house, he’s squeezing your hand so hard, you fear he’ll cut the circulation off. His leg bounces restlessly, and the frown hasn’t left his face once today. The driver opens the door, and you get out first to at least attempt to lessen your husband’s nerves. You’re unfortunately aware of the straggle of photographers waiting for the two of you. While you’re not sure how they found out about this, you’re not worried about them in the slightest.
Once Chenle’s on his feet, you loop your arm in his. “Be calm. There are cameras, so at least wait until we get inside to freak out.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He sends you a sly grin.
The two of you approach the door, and you knock. Sujia opens the door quickly, ushering the two of you inside to prevent herself from being seen. Chenle removes his sunglasses, and you take them from him to put in your purse.
“(Y/N), it’s nice to see you again,” Sujia greets you.
You nod at her. “Likewise.”
“Chenle, you’re a little more intimidating in person.” She clasps her hands together. “Are you guys thirsty? I’ll get some water.”
“Actually,” you say, patting Chenle’s arm. “Why don’t you two get your sibling introductions out of the way, and I’ll just play with Yichen. He’s my nephew, too, after all. And I’m pretty sure I scared him last time.”
The two of them both flounder for words, neither of them wanting to be without you in a moment like this.
“It’ll be okay. Seriously. Neither of you bite, and Sujia, he’s actually really sweet. He just looks like he hates everything.”
“As you can see, my wife is my biggest fan.” He presses his lips into a thin line as he fakes a glare.
“Anyway.” You smile at Sujia. “I assume the child is upstairs?”
“Yes, but if you want him to not be scared of you, you may want to refer to him by his name or something other than ‘the child.’” She scratches the top of her head.
“God, there is so much I could learn from you.” You separate from Chenle’s side and head for the stairs. Much to your pleasant surprise, your nephew…in-law? is already stomping down the stairs.
“Oh.” The kid purses his lips. “You’re back.”
“I am.” You nod and scrunch your nose up. “I figured while your mommy talks to my husband, we could…I don’t know. Play a game or something? Do kids do that?”
“You’re weird.” Yichen grimaces. “But you’re nicer this time than you were last time. So yeah, we can play with the Switch.”
You don’t end up actually playing, but you do watch Yichen’s game with interest. Leaning forward with your elbows on your knees, you analyze the process he uses when he plays every round.
“You’re smart,” you comment.
“My mommy tells me that, too.” He nods, seemingly unaffected by your compliment.
You pause for a moment. “Does your mom…compliment you a lot?”
“Uh, I don’t know.” Yichen doesn’t start the next round, but turns to look at you. “Does your mommy compliment you a lot?”
You laugh. “Yeah, no. Definitely not."
“Are you—”
“Yichen,” Sujia calls out. “Can you turn the game off please? There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Without a second thought, he turns the Switch off and yells to his mom to tell her he’s ready. He sits next to you on the couch, folding his hands together in his lap. You’ve met a lot of children in your day, but you never imagined one could be so well-behaved. You see the panicked look on Chenle’s face as he walks in. A laugh almost erupts from you, but you hold it back. The man is meeting his nephew for the first time and can’t seem to shake the nerves away. You can only imagine what it’ll be like when he meets his own child. You tense the second that thought crosses your mind.
When?
A legitimate chill runs down your spine, and then you realize how close Chenle has gotten. He squats down in front of Yichen, and Sujia leans against the archway into the kitchen.
“Hey,” Chenle starts. “I’m your uncle. And you’re my nephew.”
“Oh, wow.” You really didn’t think it could get any worse than you.
“Do you know her?” Yichen nods his head towards you.
Chenle smiles. “Yeah. That’s my wife. So that makes her your aunt.”
“She said her mommy doesn’t compliment her.” His eyes widen. “Is she a bad person?”
Your husband lets out an exaggerated gasp. “No way. She’s the best person I know.”
“How?”
“Well, she told me about you and your mommy when nobody else did. She’s really, really smart and, c’mon, she’s gorgeous. What else could I want in a wife?” Chenle grins, sending a quick glance your way.
“I guess you’re right.” Yichen shrugs. “Do you wanna play a game with me?”
“Absolutely.” He nods in response.
You stand to give Chenle room, touching his shoulder lightly as you go to stand by Sujia. Leaning on the wall next to her, you quickly realize attempting to take your eyes off of your husband is futile.
“He likes kids, huh?” Sujia asks.
“He really likes family,” you reply.
“Do you want children?”
“Oh.” You chuckle to yourself and fold your arms over your chest. “I’m not sure. But we…don’t really have a choice. We signed a contract and heirs are part of the deal.”
“I’m sorry, but I really don’t envy you,” she tells you.
“At the end of the day, it’s not that bad, though.”
“So, you and Chenle actually love each other.” She hums, tapping her foot. “I feel like that’s rare for people in your positions.”
“It is,” you agree. “And honestly, had it been up to me at the beginning, we wouldn’t even be…friendly. We’d be tolerating each other.”
"Wow, he fought for you.” Humor laces in Sujia’s voice.
“Well, I told him that I’d rather tolerate him than learn one day that I might hate him instead. He was entirely right when he said it wasn’t the hate I was scared of. It was love. Of relying on someone else.”
“At least you can rest assured that he would be a good father.”
You don’t respond for a moment, watching Chenle interact with his nephew. They must win something in the game, because they dramatically high five each other. The smile on Chenle’s face is wide, and your heart flutters as a result.
“Yeah.” You fight your own grin. “Yeah, he really will.”
You and Chenle are at Sujia’s for hours. It’s clear the two of them are similar, and thankfully, your husband seems to enjoy having a family member other than the ones who have disappointed him. Yichen warms up to you both, and by the time you’re leaving, he’s hugging you both goodbye and asking when you’ll be back. Chenle is still smiling as he leads you back to the car.
“That went a lot better than you thought, huh?” You ask as he helps you into the backseat.
“I don’t know what I thought.” He shakes his head. “But it’s cool not to be an only child. Even if it’s unconventional, you know? And that little kid is freakin’ cool.”
You lean on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re making the best out of this situation.”
“Actually, do you mind if we make one more stop?”
“Of course not. Where to?”
“I think it’s time I had a conversation with my father.” He pats your leg. “And I could really use your support.”
“Chenle.” You tilt your head at him. “If you don’t know by now that I would follow you anywhere, you’re not as smart as I originally thought. We may have to reconsider this whole thing.”
He sucks in a deep breath through his teeth, holding back his laugh. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that contract is pretty air tight.”
“Damn.” You roll your eyes and kiss his cheek. “You’re so lucky I love you.”
“The luckiest.” He lifts your hand up to his lips and kisses your knuckles. “Can’t even joke about that one.”
Chenle isn’t even nervous as the two of you approach his father’s office. He grips your hand tightly, but his resolve has never been stronger. Despite him doing this on his own, you feel an odd swell of pride deep in your chest. You’re so proud of the man he’s always been, and how he only ever wants to be better. His father already knows what’s going on the second he sees you both. At that point, Chenle releases your hand and drops his folder on the desk.
“What’s this?” his father inquires.
“A lawsuit,” Chenle replies nonchalantly.
You almost gasp in shock. And while you shouldn’t be enjoying the awkward tinge in the atmosphere, you feel like you need a bag of popcorn right now.
“I’m sorry?” He recoils in shock.
“You seem to forget that when I became CEO, you no longer had any claim to the company’s profits. And if I did my math correctly, which I did, $143,000 a quarter is roughly $572,000 a year, which is a grand total of $2,288,000 from the four years I’ve been seated in the CEO position.”
“Chenle, you have no right—”
“You don’t tell me what I have the right to do, actually.” Chenle buttons up his suit jacket. “So, you’ll be paying me back the money you owe me. That you stole from me to protect your little secret from getting out. But that must really suck, because you actually delivered a handwritten apology letter to Sujia and to your wife and your mistress and me and the employees at the company that’ll be announced in about ten minutes. To the whole world.”
“Your mother cannot know about this. Whatever you’ve done, you reverse it immediately.” The angry expression on his face does nothing but make Chenle grin.
“Your secret’s out, Dad. Crazy how you had two children and never learned how to be an actual father.” Chenle brushes himself out and points at the folder on the desk. “I’d read that. You might wanna think twice before fighting it.”
“You’ll understand one day,” his father replies. “There’s more to life than marriage, and it’s only a matter of time before you—”
“I will never be like you.” The smile immediately falls from his face. “I love my wife, and I’m not a fucking coward. I don’t need a second family because the first one wasn’t good enough for me. This is the last time you’ll hear from me. And you won’t be receiving any money from my company again. I hope you’re happy with yourself.”
Your heart pounds in your chest, your lips parted in shock as you realize what’s happening. Your husband turns his back on his father, gently holds out his hand to you, and shoots one last ice cold glare over his shoulder as he leads you out of the room.
As soon as the door shuts behind you, you laugh in disbelief. “Chenle, holy shit.”
“Dude, my adrenaline is fucking crazy right now.” He chuckles and blows out a deep breath. “That was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done in my life.”
“This might be terrible to say, but I am…so attracted to you right now.” You blush as you squeeze his arm.
“So, nothing but good things today.” He helps you into the car.
Once he shuts the door behind him, you climb onto his lap and kiss him. He groans in surprise, his hands immediately finding their place on your ass.
“What? You like when I put people in their places?” he teases you, leaning forward to barely brush his lips on yours.
“There were a lot of things I liked from today.” You unbutton the first button on his shirt. “It was…very hot of you to absolutely destroy a man like that. You held your ground and…I don’t know. The tone of your voice was sexy.”
“My God, am I learning things about you today.”
“If it helps you, I’m also learning things about myself, so.”
“Mm, please tell me what else you’ve got hidden up your sleeve.” He squeezes your ass gently, pushing you closer so you feel him hardening in his pants.
“I think…we should throw every single condom away. Permanently. We’ll have an endless amount of babies for you to play games with. Of course, you’ll also have to tell them I’m gorgeous, but—”
“You’re serious.” His jaw drops, hope sparking behind his eyes. “Darling, you better not be joking about something like that.”
You shake your head. “I’m not joking. You were on to something when you said you wanted everything. A real life, a real love, a real family. Why don’t we have it all?”
“Right now? You want kids now?”
“If we’re gonna have twenty, we really have to start now, otherwise I’m gonna be too old—”
He cuts you off with an earth-shattering kiss as he pulls you flush against him. His fingers tangle in your hair, and you giggle into his mouth. The only thing that separates the two of you is the door opening.You gasp and climb off his lap, clearing your throat and fanning your cheeks from the embarrassment of getting caught. Your husband grips your hand and pulls you towards the house, and you can’t stop the profuse laughter escaping you as he apparently decides you’re walking too slowly and hoists you over his shoulder.
“Oh my God, Chenle, put me down.” You can barely speak through your laughs.
He only listens to you once the two of you are inside and he’s able to set you on the kitchen island.
“If you’re doubting it even a little bit, darling, you’d better tell me now.” He kisses down your neck. “Because I don’t care how fucking long it takes, we’re not stopping tonight until I get you pregnant.”
“You’re crazy.” You push his shoulder. “You have no way of knowing if you’ll—”
“Baby, don’t ruin my fun. Tell me if you really want this.”
“I do, Chenle.” You cup his cheeks, smiling at him. “I want it with you. They all need to look like you. I want at least one boy and one girl, and they’ll be best friends because—”
He kisses you again, groaning as he slides his hand beneath the skirt of your dress. “Keep talking.”
“Um, I just really think you’d be a good dad,” you say, lifting your hips so he can pull your panties down. “And, uh, you’ve proven how much family means to you, so it makes me feel safe. I—shit.”
He presses two fingers to your clit, and your body jolts. Chuckling, he traces along your pulse with his lips. “How are you so wet already?”
“Well.” You let out another breathless laugh as you grind your hips to match his pace. “It so helps that my husband is the hottest fucking man in this universe.”
“You think so highly of me,” he hums, teeth grazing your ear lobe.
“You’re cruel for this, you know.” You rock upward, and your head lolls forward. “Teasing after you clearly feel how badly I want you is just…so rude.”
“I’m sorry, baby. Please forgive me.” He moves down to your entrance and thrusts two of his fingers inside you.
You cry out, holding onto his shoulders. With a frustrated groan, you push his jacket off of him. He curls his fingers and pumps faster, thumb returning to your clit.
“Fuck, Chenle, wait.” You smack at his wrist. Even though you don’t want him to stop, you want more. He stops immediately, pulling back to look at you.
“What? Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay.” You kiss him hard. “I need you inside me right fucking now.”
“First of all, you just scared me.” He tsks as he unbuttons his pants. “You need my cock so bad you can’t fucking take what I give you?”
Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing. You shudder at his tone, shuffling closer to the edge of the counter. He pushes his pants and boxers down to the middle of his thighs, and your mouth waters at the sight of him. He’s hard, tip leaking precum as he spreads your legs further. The fabric of your skirt prevents him from having enough room, and the dark look in his eyes sends another burst of wetness to your core.
“Love how these skirts look on you but fucking hate how I can’t fuck you in it.” He taps your hip, and you lift yourself up so he can unzip it and tug it down quickly.
You barely even pay attention to what his doing when he pulls your ankles up to the edge of the counter and spreads your thighs apart until they begin to ache.
“Now, isn’t that a fucking view.” He wets his lips as he wraps his fingers around his cock. Thrusting into his fist a couple times, he uses his other hand to tease your clit.
“Chenle, please.” You gasp, tugging him closer.
“You’re so fucking wet, baby, I can see it.” He drags his tip along your entrance, pushing in just enough to watch the head of his cock stretch you open. He’s entranced by the way you take him so easily, his eyes focused on where the two of you connect.
Your pleasure intensifies simply by watching him so drunk on you, just appreciating the way you take him. You feel every vein in your body buzzing, and you can’t help it but to push your hand between your legs and rub your throbbing bud while he’s entranced.
“You have no fucking patience,” he hisses, grabbing your wrist and pushing it away. You whine at the loss, but his glare stops you. “I’m trying to enjoy my wife’s pussy, but she’s just so fucking needy, isn’t she?”
“Oh, God.” You grip onto the edge of the counter.
“Watch how easily you take me.” He flicks your clit. “Look.”
You let your gaze travel downward until you see his cock positioned outside your hole. Instantly, the room gets much hotter. You struggle to breathe, anticipating the stretch he gives you. His tip is covered in your arousal, but the rest of his cock has yet to feel you.
“Fuck me, Chenle,” you mutter almost incoherently. “I wanna watch.”
He finally obliges, nudging the tip between your folds again before sinking inside. He moves so slowly, you want to cry. You need more, and the stretch wreaks havoc on you when you’re watching. Every time he’d fill you up another inch, he’d pull out until his tip is barely caught inside you, and then sink in just one more inch. You’re losing your fucking mind, but you can’t take your eyes away from where he pleasures you. Finally, he bottoms out, the position of your thighs allowing him to press all the way against you, his pelvis hitting your overly sensitive clit.
“Are you ready?” he asks. “I need to fuck you.”
“You know I’m ready,” you reply, dazed from the pleasure of him seated so deeply in you.
He starts a steady pace, both of you still staring at the way you stretch to accommodate him.
“You feel so fucking good like this, darling.” He thrusts harder. “Nothing between us this time.”
You cry out when his tip hits your cervix. Your legs start to shake from how far they’re spread, but all you’re focusing on is the way your arousal shines on his cock when he’s pulling out of you. You feel every inch of him, and the way he rubs against your walls is so different without the condom. You’re fucking delirious, and every time he presses all the way inside you, the pressure on your clit has you getting closer and closer.
“You’re squeezing me so tight, baby,” he groans, moving his hand down between the two of you quickly. His thumb glides over your most sensitive area, and you can no longer hold back your sounds.
“Fuck,” you cry out, legs shaking as your orgasm lingers so, so close.
“Cum for me.” He slams into you. “Not gonna fill you up ‘til you cum, darling.”
You tip and tilt over the edge, convulsing as your high hits you hard. Chenle keeps rubbing you, thrusts picking up speed as he fucks you through your euphoria. He crashes his lips to yours as he spurts inside you, covering your inner walls with white as he pants. Your whole body shakes as you hold onto him tightly. Both of you are covered in sweat, but it does little to bother either of you.
“How does it keep getting better?” you ask.
“You have that effect on me.” He shrugs, chuckling as he guides your legs around his waist. “And I wasn’t kidding. We’re not done yet.”
“My insides are gonna be mush.”
“What if I’m gentle next time?” He kisses along your neck. “If I fuck you with your legs up, apparently it’s more likely to happen that way.”
“Insatiable.” You pull back to kiss his lips. “You’re lucky I am, too. Take me upstairs.”
You don’t make it all the way upstairs. Not at first. He decides he has to take you on the couch, up against the wall next to the staircase, the desk in his office, and then your bed. By the end of the night, you’re absolutely exhausted, but you’ve never felt so fucking good in your life. And for someone who thought you could never have it all, you realize just how damn close you are to having a perfect life when you have Chenle by your side.
#nct dream#chenle#nct#nct dream smut#lowkeyjaemle#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct smut#chenle smut#chenle au#nct au#nct dream au#kpop au#kpop x reader#kpop scenario#kpop imagine#nct dream x reader#nct dream x y/n#nct dream chenle#zhong chenle
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₊˚⊹｡ big gym energy (is this my fantasy?) | fushiguro toji
wc: 2.0k
summary: who would have thought the rippest DILF in all of Japan would get you to go to the gym everyday?
contains: gn!reader, non-curse au, college au, appearance of itafushikugi (mostly nobara), reader has a huge and lowkey delusional crush on toji, age gap
a/n: the gym toji fic! tone in this is a bit different from what i write, and it's lowkey a crack fic but i hope it's still enjoyable! listened to: big energy - latto & area codes - kaliii
part of the in's and out's new year/birthday event | request
prompt: going to the gym for yourself (and totally not for that cute guy who sometimes says hi)
“You’re going to the gym?” Nobara halts smack in the middle of the busy hallway. Groans huff behind her, the rest of your class filing out of the lecture hall. You bow your head apologetically as you pull her to the side.
“Yes.”
She squints, skeptical, “You.”
You nod.
“The gym.” she says it slower this time, tilting her head down.
You nod again.
Nobara blinks, shifting her weight as she reaches one hand inside the pocket of her overalls. There’s a long pause, rushed footsteps amplifying the suspense, then—
“Okay, what’s the bet? How much did Maki put out? I want in.”
You roll your eyes, shaking your head as you loop your arm around hers and continue walking.
There’s good reason for her to doubt you; she knows you best after all. In your little quad, you are the least likely to be found doing any physical activity or sport whatsoever—and that’s saying a lot, considering the other fourth of your group is Megumi. But at least he walks his dogs regularly.
“Rude,” you scoff jokingly, “there’s no bet, just testing it out because they have a free trial promo.”
It shouldn’t hurt to check it out, you think. One of your resolutions this year is to finally get started on your fitness journey, whatever form it may be.
“You should come.”
Nobara snorts, “Wrong person,” you both turn at a corner, “ask Itadori.”
The gym is just a few blocks away from your campus, a good 18-minute walk if you’re counting—which is also part of what makes it so appealing. The ad you’d seen for the free trial is an early bird promo to attract new customers for the gym’s new branch launch.
And it does make the most sense to ask him; he is the sports science major after all—
“No way,” you step out on the sidewalk, “telling him is practically committing to a membership.”
—but Yuuji is a bit too eager when it comes to things like this. No doubt he’ll be at your heel, wagging his figurative golden retriever tail at the prospect of being your certified gym buddy. It’s endearing and you know he means well, but that’s way too much pressure for someone who’s just starting out.
She laughs, readjusting her bag, “He’d know how to use the machines though.”
“I watched some videos…” you mumble, because Nobara has a point, but if you’re being honest, you feel just a teensy bit embarrassed at the idea of anyone else knowing about your attempts at fitness this early on, lest it fail in the end. “I can probably ask someone there…”
“Try the most jacked up person in the gym.”
You shove her jokingly, her laughter echoing down the road.
.
The first person you meet at the gym is the lady at the front desk. Her ponytail sways as she greets you, a chirpy smile welcoming you in as she holds an iPad to her chest while touring you around—at the center, the main floor plan is decked out with machines; towards the back sit the squat racks, and to your sides are the private cycling rooms and multifunctional spaces. According to her, they also offer yoga classes every 6:00 p.m. on Wednesdays.
You’d expected a lot more people to be in here at 7:00 p.m., but you suppose it makes sense others would prefer to spend their Friday nights elsewhere.
Looking around, you spot a middle-aged lady you swear is Megumi’s English professor; on the treadmills, a couple your age share a laugh as they try to match pace. There are some machines you’ve never even seen in your life, Youtube videos included.
You take a deep breath. You can ask for help.
After all, the crowd feels friendly enough, not too intimidating—
—until your eyes land on him, on the benches; an absolute tank of a man doing chest presses with what you think are probably the heaviest dumbbells on the rack.
You try not to stare, catching only a glimpse of the way his biceps flex against the tight sleeves of his black compression shirt.
Don’t be a creep, you tell yourself, walking towards the leg press machine. You may be new here, but you’ve learned that gym etiquette isn’t so far off from acting like a civilized human being.
Thank god you never take Nobara seriously, because you can’t even imagine the stuttering mess you’d be if you had to ask him how to work any of these god forsaken machines.
.
It’s a good thing, then, that help comes to you without you having to say a word.
This is number four out of five sessions in your free trial promo, and you have no idea how to get the goddamn plates out of the barbell. You pull some out from the other side and the whole barbell comes along with it. When you attempt the other side, it does the same. Then when you finally do manage to get off the plates on one side, the whole barbell drops, clanging loudly against the metal foot of the squat rack set-up.
(Now that you think about it, maybe it isn’t such a good thing that you’ve been offered help instead of you asking. There must be a reason someone thinks you could need it.)
Someone, who is also the last person you could ever possibly want to embarrass yourself in front of.
Someone, who just so happens to be the jacked up tank of a man you’ve admittedly glanced at a few times in your past few visits here.
“To make it easier,” he crouches beside you, laying down a smaller plate and rolling the larger ones on the barbell over it.
He unloads them like they weigh nothing—and with his physique, it isn’t hard to believe that they probably do. His biceps look to be the size of your head, chest popping out in ways you’ve only seen on those Tiktok thirst edits; his one hand is larger than a 2.5 kilogram plate, and his forearms look like they could ch—
Mind out of the gutter, you blink away, focusing instead on the metal bar in front of you.
God, you don’t even know this man’s name.
“T-thanks.” you stutter, embarrassed.
He gives you a half-smile, lips turned on one side, “Sure.” then he walks away, the tightness of his black compression shirt hugging the ridges of his back muscles.
You gulp.
So begins your year-long gym membership.
(And maybe, just maybe, the kind-of-meet-cute of a lifetime. Who knows, really?)
.
“Who would have thought the rippest DILF in all of Japan would get you to go to the gym everyday,” she snorts, fingers grazing over the curved edges of the heart-shaped watermelons in the fruit aisle.
You hush her, scanning the area around you for anyone who might have overhead.
It’s 11:00 p.m. on a Thursday, so you doubt it, but you can never be too sure.
“He’s nice, you know.” you pout.
“Yeah, what’s his name?” Nobara gives you a look.
You glare, touché.
Maybe you don’t know his name. Yet.
But he’s always offered to stack on the heavy plates for you, and will oftentimes help in unloading them too. There are times when you aren’t quite sure how to work the machines and he swoops in like the gym buff version of prince charming, teaching you proper form just so you don’t get injured. He’ll wipe down a mat for you to use some days, because—
“Stretching is important,” he never fails to mention.
He’s nice.
And you have an insanely delusional crush on him, but you don’t care, because why else would he be giving you this much attention if he wasn’t interested in you too?
.
You find out many things about your gym crush, most of them completely unexpected.
One: his hair is unusually soft for someone who looks so rough. Or, well, you think it looks soft, you can’t tell for sure; you haven’t actually touched it to be able to tell. The black mop on his head falls flat over his eyes on the few days you assume are right before his next scheduled haircut. It surprises you even more when he walks in the gym with a small hair tie holding his bangs up.
Two: he does a considerable amount of bodyweight exercises for someone his size—Calisthenics, specifically.
You watch him pull himself up the bar, biceps and back straining against the movement. The muscles ripple across the fabric of his tee, and it’s impressive how smoothly he’s able to go up and down; as if he isn’t exerting any effort at all. Then, the push-ups and dips. He can do them all, in every variation you never even thought existed, and it’s always done with so much ease.
It gives you reason to believe that he could be gentle, controlled. In what? Well. You know.
Three: he likes fruity things. You expected his go-to to be straight black, maybe a chocolate protein shake on other days too. But he shows up one day with a smoothie in the shade of vibrant magenta. Dragonfruit, you assume, from all the black specks floating in it.
This also happens to be the first time you initiate the conversation with him.
“Your smoothie looks good,” you mumble, a little hesitant.
God, so awkward.
He looks up from adjusting the plate stoppers on your bar.
A hum rumbles from his throat before he flashes you the same half-smile he always does, “Strawberry, banana, and dragonfruit.”
You don’t really know what to say after that other than, “Cool.”
And you mentally facepalm yourself.
.
In your fourth month at the gym, you learn a few more unexpected things that change everything.
You’ve just finished freshening up and you’re on the way out when you bump into—
“Megumi?”
He looks up from his phone, dark strands hitting the tips of his eyelashes as he pushes back one side of his headphones. He raises an eyebrow, confused and surprised.
“You gym?”
“What’re you doing here?”
Pink dusts his cheeks as he ducks his head, motioning for you to go first.
“Sorry,” you chuckle, adjusting the strap of your duffel bag, “I started going here a few months ago. You?”
He looks a little surprised by it, probably more so at the fact that you’ve kept it a secret from him for so long, but he nods, “That’s good. You did mention wanting to work on your fitness more this year.” then, he shifts, adjusting his weight before hanging his headphones by his neck.
“I’m waiting for my dad.”
In the past few years you’ve known Megumi, he’s never mentioned his dad. You never bothered to ask because you suspected there was a good reason he never talked about him in the first place.
And so comes number four, and maybe the last unexpected thing you find out about your gym crush—
“Megumi!”
You both turn around to the voice of none other than Nobara’s proclaimed rippest DILF in Japan; the most jacked up tank of a man who also happens to be the man you’ve crushed hard on for the past four months.
Everything is snapping into place, information forming bridges you would rather not cross right now.
He walks up to Megumi, duffel bag slung across his chest as he reaches for your friend.
Megumi looks like he wants to wither away, embarrassed at you seeing him tucked under his dad’s arm. But all your brain can really comprehend is that Megumi, your good friend, is currently squished between the bicep and chest you’ve been staring at since your first day at the gym.
You hold your breath, the realization creeping to the forefront of your mind. There had been signs that your gym crush was a dad; apart from being built like one, he’d offhandedly mention ‘son’ a few times. You didn’t think it would be—
“Oh, you two know each other?” your gym crush tilts his head, turning to you, “you didn’t tell me your friend signed up for this gym, Megumi.”
“I didn’t know,” Megumi grumbles, and the look on his face can rival yours, for sure. Tough competition on ‘who looks like they want to die the most right now?’.
But he can’t win.
Because when Megumi begrudgingly introduces your gym crush to you as his dad, you’re pretty sure you’ve buried yourself twelve feet underground.
(It doesn’t ease the embarrassment when you learn unexpected thing number five: he’s been a trainer at the gym this entire time.)
thank you notes: to @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat for encouraging me all the way!! ily ari
comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk x reader#fushiguro itadori x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#toji x yn#toji fluff#toji x y/n#toji x you#fushiguro toji x you#toji fushiguro x you#jjk#toji#shotorus.writes#shotorus.events#in's and out's event
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