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thedensworld · 2 months

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Falling Flower | K.Mg

Pairing: CEO Mingyu! x Secretary Reader

Genre: suggestive, fluff, humour, angst

Summary: Mingyu never thought that he would find Y/n, his friend's secretary, attractive. What's started from eyes, physical, has fallen to his heart. As he tries to get to know you, he realizes he knew nothing about you.

Warning: child abuse, mental health, pregnancy, unprotected sex, ptsd, asexual description on character, heavy plot asdfghjkl.

Part 2 has uploaded here: Flower Bloomed

Mingyu's nervous anticipation lingered in the air as he rhythmically tapped his finger on the sofa, his other hand guarding his mouth to restrain words he feared might escape. Across the room, Choi Seungcheol remained absorbed in finishing his work, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil brewing within his younger friend.

"I was surprised when I heard you'll be visiting," Seungcheol remarked, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to Mingyu's restlessness. Rising from his desk, he joined Mingyu on the sofa, prompting a flicker of hope in the younger man's eyes.

The door creaked open, and Mingyu's gaze snapped toward the entrance, only to be met with disappointment as one of Seungcheol's secretaries entered. A visible trace of frustration clouded Mingyu's expression, realizing he wouldn't see you upon the door's opening, a fact that had fueled his anticipation since stepping into the building.

"Here's your coffee, gentlemen," the secretary politely interjected, placing the cups on the table. Instead of retreating, he cleared his throat, vying for both Seungcheol and Mingyu's attention, though Mingyu sensed the message was primarily for Seungcheol.

"Ms. Ji has informed that she needs a day of rest and may join you tomorrow, sir. I'll be attending today," the secretary conveyed, a hint of formality in his words. Seungcheol's forehead creased with concern, and Mingyu, sensing an underlying tension, couldn't help but wonder about the undisclosed circumstances.

"Why didn't she call me? Is she alright?" Seungcheol's voice held genuine worry, and Mingyu found himself caught in the currents of concern and curiosity, eager to unravel the mystery veiled behind Seungcheol's questioning tone.

"Yes, she's alright. She didn't want to worry you, sir. Please let me know if there's anything you need," the secretary assured, earning a nod from Seungcheol before gracefully exiting the office.

Mingyu, sensing an unspoken weight in the air, couldn't hold back his concern. "What's wrong? What happened to Y/n?"

Seungcheol, his face etched with a sigh, began to unravel the untold tale. "She collapsed an hour before you came."

Mingyu gasped, the news hitting him like a sudden storm. "Is she alright?"

Seungcheol, taking a contemplative sip of his coffee, revealed, "Just like what you heard from Jun earlier. She never takes a day off and barely has any rest. I was worried because she has no one but a roommate."

The revelation gripped Mingyu's attention. "No one? You mean family?"

Seungcheol's furrowed brows hinted at a mystery yet to be unraveled. "I don't know, but she didn't write down her family members on the application form."

Seungcheol swiftly redirected the conversation, his tone revealing a calculated move. "Why are we suddenly talking about my secretary? I know you're here with a reason, right? Is it about the article released yesterday?" Mingyu, caught off guard by the shift, sensed that Seungcheol might be deliberately steering away from the topic of Y/n.

"You've got it pretty bad, my man. That's why you disappeared all of a sudden, huh?" Seungcheol remarked, referring to a photo of Mingyu with a woman at Joshua's birthday party. Mingyu sighed, wearied by the older man's probing questions. "It's almost two months already, but why did the media have to release it right before my company's anniversary?" he lamented, finding solace in finally having an outlet for the frustration that had built up since the article's publication.

"They even wrote 'Kim Group's heir playboy agenda...'" Mingyu paused, attempting to convey his exasperation by showing something on his phone.

Seungcheol stifled a laugh while reading a headline the media had crafted. "Kim Mingyu: a businessman who's ready to sweep your heart. Pfftt.."

Mingyu pocketed his phone, frustration evident in his voice. "I didn't go study business in the States just to be accused as a playboy." The weight of Mingyu's words hung in the air, a mix of pride and frustration as he grappled with the undeserved label imposed by the media.

Seungcheol nodded knowingly. "I know. It was your fault starting that playboy image when you brought actress Kim Huisoo to the Jeon charity ball years ago," he stated matter-of-factly, a fact that sent Mingyu's head spinning.

"I know. I should've clarified that Kim Huisoo is actually a cousin. She doesn't want the public to know she's part of our family," Mingyu sighed, a tinge of regret coloring his words.

Seungcheol, nonchalant, shrugged. "It was a good decision that I only brought Y/n to every event I attended." He continued, "That's why I told you to have a woman as your secretary."

"Not all women are Ji Y/n," Mingyu muttered, rolling his eyes at the older man.

Seungcheol smiled proudly. "That's true."

Mingyu, shifting his posture, finally divulged his true purpose. "Talking about Y/n... I actually came here to meet her." He paused, but before he could elaborate, Seungcheol interjected, "What is it?"

Shaking his head, Mingyu rose from his seat. "I should get going. Are you coming to Wonwoo's after-party tomorrow?" he inquired, leaving Seungcheol in a state of confusion. Despite the lingering questions, Seungcheol could only nod as Mingyu exited his office. The unspoken complexities of Mingyu's visit left Seungcheol pondering, unsure of the full extent of what transpired within those walls.

"You must be kidding me, right?" Minseo exclaimed incredulously, throwing her hands in the air as if attempting to physically reject the words that had just escaped your lips. A nervous laughter bubbled up within her, and she desperately clung to the hope that it was all some elaborate joke. "It was a joke, right? Ok, nice one," she managed to say between laughter, offering you a compliment for what inadvertently became an unexpected ab workout from holding back her amusement.

As you gazed at Minseo, a profound calmness settled over you, concealing the internal turmoil that had been brewing since yesterday. Silently, you wished for this surreal revelation to be nothing more than a prank or a bizarre dream. The weight of exhaustion pressed down on you, prompting a deep sigh as you leaned into the sofa. Fatigue gripped you, and you closed your eyes, seeking a momentary escape from the harsh reality that had unfolded.

Kim Minseo scrutinized your expression, her own heartbeat quickening as the reality of your confession sank in. The gravity of your words was unmistakable, and there was a palpable tension in the air – nothing about this was a joke. The weight of the truth hung heavily between you.

In a surge of disbelief and frustration, Minseo seized your collar, her grip tight and accusatory. "You're crazy?! How could you get pregnant all of a sudden?!" Her words erupted like a storm, echoing through the room as she confronted the unexpected revelation.

You furrowed your brow, a mixture of annoyance and resignation etching your features. "I know. It just happened," you mumbled, attempting to convey the unexpected nature of the situation. However, the mounting tension pushed you to a breaking point, and in a moment of frustration, you pushed Minseo away. The force caused her to stumble, landing on the floor – a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil that had unraveled in mere moments. The room now held an uneasy silence, broken only by the echoes of Minseo's shout and the lingering weight of an unforeseen reality.

Minseo swiftly rose from the floor, her urgency palpable as she seized your arm. "Let's go have an abortion!" she declared, the words hanging in the air with a weight you never anticipated coming from her.

Your eyes widened in shock, the gravity of Minseo's suggestion hitting you like a sudden storm. Her unexpected proposal left you speechless, grappling with the reality of the situation. This was a turn of events you hadn't prepared for, and the tension in the room escalated.

"What?" you stammered, the incredulity evident in your voice. The idea of Minseo suggesting such a course of action caught you off guard, unraveling any expectations you might have had.

Minseo locked eyes with you, her expression a mix of determination and concern. "What?" she echoed, seeking a response to her proposal.

Shaking your head, you replied hastily, "I don't have time. I have work to do!" The weight of responsibilities, both unexpected and preexisting, pressed on you, clouding your judgment.

In response, Minseo gasped before tightening her grip on your collar once again. "And you've got time to get knocked?" she retorted, her frustration evident as the confrontation escalated, leaving both of you ensnared in a complex web of emotions and decisions.

Observing your silent turmoil, Minseo released a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of understanding. Her eyes softened as she settled beside you, gently taking hold of your hand in a gesture of support. "How long is it?" she inquired, her tone filled with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

You turned your head to meet her gaze, the vulnerability in your eyes reflecting the reality of the situation. "5 weeks," you revealed, the weight of those weeks palpable in the heaviness of the air.

A nervous edge crept into Minseo's voice as she broached a sensitive question, "Do you know the father?" Her inquiry hung in the air, the uncertainty adding an extra layer of tension to the conversation.

Closing your eyes, you hesitated, reluctant to delve into that particular topic just yet. Instead, you nodded, your acknowledgment accompanied by a flood of memories from the night in question. Regret washed over you as you raised your hands to cover your face. Rather than succumbing to sadness, embarrassment swept over you like an overwhelming wave, adding a complex layer to the emotional tapestry that unfolded. The room, once charged with confrontation, now held a delicate atmosphere of shared vulnerability and unspoken understanding.

The weight of the revelation hung heavily in the air, and you couldn't escape the realization that it was a mere drunken mistake – a wishful thinking that somehow the alcohol had clouded the events of that night. However, clarity hit hard as you acknowledged that you were a hundred percent sober, the memories of that regrettable night etched vividly in your mind. A part of you yearned for him to forget, yet another part wished he would remember.

"Noooo!" The exclamation escaped your lips as you kicked your leg into the air, a spontaneous outburst that startled Minseo, sitting beside you and absorbing the rollercoaster of emotions.a

Minseo, with a careful tone, sought to understand the complexity of the situation. "It's not just a random person you met at a club or something, right? The father?" she asked, delicately navigating the sensitive terrain.

"It'll be better," you mumbled in response, a quiet plea for understanding. The weight of the truth and the potential consequences loomed large, creating a web of conflicting emotions that both bound and divided you in this unexpected journey.

Minseo's palm met her forehead in an exasperated gesture. "Okay!" she declared as she rose from her seat, pointing a finger at you to emphasize the undeniable fact – you were five weeks pregnant. The weight of the revelation settled in the room as she continued, "And I'm going to fly to the States for study in three days."

A cloud of guilt seemed to shadow her expression as she posed a poignant question. "Are you okay with me leaving you?" The concern in her eyes was evident, a reflection of the dilemma she found herself in.

You nodded reassuringly, "Yeah, don't worry. It's not like my entire life would change," you offered, attempting to alleviate Minseo's concerns and downplay the upheaval that lay ahead.

"Should I delay my study and help you instead?" Minseo queried, raising a brow in consideration.

In response, you playfully threw a pillow in her direction, the well-aimed hit prompting a light chuckle. "No way! You worked hard for this. You should go," you insisted, appreciating her ambitions and refusing to be the reason for any detour.

"It's not like it's my first time living alone," you added, attempting to underscore your self-sufficiency despite the unexpected circumstances. Minseo observed you, her worry evident as she mumbled, "But you're pregnant."

Standing up, you prepared to retreat to your room, asserting, "It's just pregnancy, Minseo. I'll get used to it. Don't worry," leaving a lingering reassurance in the air as you walked to your room. You definitely need time to process this.

As you strolled towards the office, Seungcheol abruptly halted and called your attention, snapping you out of the daydream that had seemingly captivated your thoughts since morning.

"Are you okay? Do you need a day off?" he inquired, observing your startled expression. You shook your head, offering your usual smile. "I'm good, sir. Just lost in thought. I apologize," you said, motioning for him to resume the journey to his office.

"What did the hospital say about your condition yesterday? I hope it's nothing that's causing you to be distracted today," he remarked, a mix of jest and genuine concern in his tone. Clearing your throat, you reassured him, "i'm fine, sir. Just exhaustion. I rested well yesterday," you explained.

Once the two of you arrived in front of his office, he paused, refraining from entering immediately. Turning towards you, he hesitated for a moment before extending an invitation, "Can you accompany me for my schedule tonight? Just until the after party."

Nodding in acknowledgment, you took note of this favor, "Do you want me to come in a suit or a dress, sir?" It was a routine question, one you always posed whenever the same agenda surfaced.

"Dress, please. Even though it's Wonwoo's birthday, you know how the Jeons are with their events," he replied, a subtle reminder of the grandeur and regality that often accompanied gatherings hosted by the Jeon family.

As you nodded and respectfully bowed, returning to your desk, Seungcheol unexpectedly swung his office door open once again, prompting you to turn your head towards him.

"Yes, sir?" you inquired, noticing the furrow on Seungcheol's brow.

"Mingyu was looking for you yesterday. Do you have business with him that I don't know about?" he questioned, his tone reflecting a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Caught off guard, you paused for a moment before nervously responding, "He might want to confront me for a mistake I made last week. I mistakenly scheduled a meeting with him earlier than intended." The unexpected visit from the heir of Kim Group, CEO Kim FnB, Kim Mingyu, still surprised you.

Raising an eyebrow, Seungcheol pressed further, "Why does he have to confront you himself?"

You shrugged, replying, "Mr. Yoon was like that as well," referencing Jeonghan, Seungcheol's friend who often interacted with you in a friendly manner.

Seungcheol sighed, expressing his concern, "Please tell me immediately if the boys bother you next time," his words carried a protective tone, a reminder of the tight-knit group of friends you had become acquainted with through your association with him.

As you nodded in acknowledgment, gratitude laced your words, "Yes, sir... Thank you so much." Seungcheol reciprocated the nod before gently closing the door, leaving you alone at your desk.

A heavy breath of relief escaped you as you contemplated why Kim Mingyu sought you out. Did he remember? You shook your head, recalling that he seemed oblivious that night, likely due to intoxication. If only you hadn't approached him at the bar and engaged in conversation.

To shake off the lingering thoughts, you resorted to a series of self-slaps to regain focus. There was a pile of work, emails to send, and phone calls to make. Distractions happened, but you were determined to get back on track.

Just as you were settling into your tasks, a phone call from Minseo interrupted your concentration. Her urgent tone conveyed a sense of distress. "Ji Y/n, what am I gonna do? My course starts earlier than I expected, and I have to fly to the States by tonight," she explained, painting a picture of her predicament.

"Really? But I have a schedule tonight; I can't come to the airport," you replied, glancing at your itinerary, which indicated the after party starting at 11. A brief moment of realization hit you; that was the time you'd be free.

"It's okay. Please make sure that you call me if anything happens, okay? I'm in the middle of packing!" Minseo requested, seeking reassurance.

"Hmm... Take care," you replied, the weight of conflicting priorities settling in.

"Mr. Bae Inhyeon, President of Gubbae Electronic, at 12 o'clock," you whispered to Seungcheol, trailing a few inches behind him. Seungcheol's grin widened, and he raised his hand in a welcoming gesture towards Bae Inhyeon. You followed suit, offering a polite bow as Seungcheol introduced you as his dedicated secretary.

Not even ten minutes had passed since you and Seungcheol arrived, yet the room buzzed with excitement as everyone eagerly anticipated meeting Seungcheol, the formidable contender for the future presidency of Choi Corp. With a subtle finesse, you discreetly shared the names of those who greeted him, offering hushed insights behind his back. Your role extended beyond mere administrative duties; you navigated the intricate web of industry relationships with adept skill.

As the interactions unfolded, you observed the dynamics at play, blending seamlessly into the background while subtly influencing the course of conversations. The air was charged with ambition and anticipation, a palpable energy that hinted at the high stakes involved in the corporate world. Your commitment to understanding the industry's players proved invaluable as you seamlessly assisted Seungcheol in navigating the intricate social fabric of business engagements. In this fast-paced environment, your keen awareness and discreet gestures spoke volumes about your competency as a secretary.

After exchanging pleasantries with the gathering, Seungcheol made his way to Wonwoo, the man of the hour celebrating his birthday. With a subtle motion, he indicated for you to enjoy the impending festivities, as the ceremony for the launch of Wonwoo's entertainment label was about to commence.

Taking advantage of the brief moment, you excused yourself and navigated toward the restroom, intent on a quick check of your appearance. Inside, you found two women engaged in a lively conversation, their camaraderie evident.

As you eavesdropped on their discussion, it became apparent that they were the "plus one", well-versed in the dynamics of the industry. The woman in the black dress remarked enthusiastically, "Did you see Kim Mingyu entering the ballroom? This place lit up."

Her companion, while reapplying lipstick, nodded with a knowing smile. "He's a fine man, and he's still young. What do you expect from a conglomerate?"

The black dress woman chuckled, her tone carrying a hint of mischief. "However, he's a womanizer, do you know that?" she revealed.

The woman in the yellow dress responded with a teasing tone, "With that look, he couldn't not be one. If my daddy ever grows tired of me, I might just throw myself at him."

A sigh escaped your lips as you turned your head towards the animated conversation. "Excuse me, Daddy's babies. Could you lower your voices a bit? Thanks," you calmly requested, punctuating the statement with a corporate smile that concealed any underlying irritation.

They scrutinized you from head to toe, skepticism evident in their eyes. One of them, with a hint of disdain, asked, "Who are you? It doesn't seem like you're part of their circle. Are you also a mistress?" Laughter ensued from both, the echoes of their amusement resonating within the restroom.

Undeterred, you gracefully walked away. Just before reaching the exit, you turned your body and retorted, "Do I look like one of you guys? Stop joking!" The playful remark carried a touch of assertiveness as you left the restroom, leaving behind the lingering traces of your unyielding self-assurance.

The ceremony had yet to begin, and as you wandered around the ballroom, Seungcheol appeared to relish his newfound freedom in your absence. Determined to locate him, you scanned the crowd for his familiar figure.

Amidst your search, a man approached, introducing himself as Lee Jaewook. "You might know me from my father, Lee Daeyong, of Daeyong Finance," he stated confidentially, handing you a glass of wine.

"What's your name, lady?"

Politely accepting the glass, you replied, "Ji Y/n."

His admission continued, "I've seen you around sometimes, but I never dared to approach you."

Nodding graciously, you offered a warm smile. "I appreciate that. I'm engaged," you revealed, lifting your hand to showcase the engagement ring you always wore to events—a precautionary measure suggested by Seungcheol. The ring had been carefully chosen and purchased by him.

Jaewook appeared taken aback, inquiring, "Are you with your fiance then? May I know him?" Before you could utter a response, a hand slipped around your waist, catching you off guard. Turning, you found Kim Mingyu with a smile that seemed to hold secrets shared between them and extended to Jaewook.

"I've been looking for you," Mingyu remarked softly, his words carrying a certain ambiguity. Confusion etched across your face as you regarded him, but any questions were silenced as he whispered into your ear, "Just play with me."

"Kim Mingyu, I didn't know you had such a beautiful fiancée," Lee Jaewook remarked, a touch of admiration in his voice. Mingyu responded with a charming smile, acknowledging the compliment, "Yeah, it's not easy to have a beautiful fiancée and try to keep her away from some foxy eyes around. Right, Lee Jaewook?" He took the glass of wine from your hand, sipping it casually as if to emphasize his point.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, wondering about Mingyu's unexpected playfulness. It was a departure from the composed and mysterious demeanor he had displayed earlier. As Lee Jaewook smiled and excused himself, stating, "I should go. See you later, you two," you couldn't help but feel a lingering sense of intrigue and uncertainty.

As Lee Jaewook departed, you seized the opportunity, releasing a fake cough to capture Mingyu's attention. He promptly withdrew his hand from your waist into his pocket, meeting your gaze with a hint of amusement. "Not even a thanks?" he teased, his tone carrying a playful edge.

You sighed, offering a gracious smile, "Thank you so much, Mr. Kim." Intent on continuing your quest to find your boss, you began to move away, but Mingyu unexpectedly grasped your arm, halting your departure. "I think we have something to discuss."

Tilting your head skeptically, you mumbled, "I don't think so," though your heart betrayed you with a subtle flutter. Mingyu leaned in, his hand tracing your left arm as he whispered, "Even you wear the same bracelet as that night." The revelation caught you off guard, and you instinctively took a step back, a rapid exhale betraying your flustered state.

A stroke of luck intervened as you caught sight of Seungcheol seated at his table with friends Jeonghan and Joshua. Turning to Mingyu, still playfully smiling, you seized the moment. "Let's talk tomorrow at lunch," you asserted before walking away, leaving behind a tantalizing air of mystery and a perplexed Kim Mingyu. The ballroom continued to buzz with anticipation, but your focus had shifted, promising a lunchtime rendezvous filled with unanswered questions and hidden intrigues.

Mingyu carefully placed your order on the table, his discomfort apparent as he kept a watchful eye on the surroundings—ever mindful of maintaining a low profile in the presence of college students. Taking your sandwich, you remarked, "No one knows you here," alluding to the anonymity offered by the casual crowd.

Sitting across from you, Mingyu sighed, his gaze fixated on you as you began to eat. A playful smile crept onto his cheeks as he teased, "Slow down, Seungcheol hyung must have starved you, right?"

You shook your head, replying, "I've been wanting this," prompting a chuckle from Mingyu.

While you effortlessly devoured your sandwich, you noticed Mingyu hadn't taken a single bite of his. A trace of guilt flickered across your face, leading you to apologize, "Sorry, is it not to your liking?" His soft laughter followed, leaving you puzzled.

"Why are you laughing?" you inquired, furrowing your brows.

Mingyu shook his head, "No, it's just... I like it," he confessed, his smile genuine.

Curiosity piqued, you casually asked, sipping your orange juice, "What do you like?"

His response caught you off guard, "I like how you're so casual when it's only the two of us."

The unexpected revelation caused you to halt mid-sip, setting the stage for a moment of candid connection amid the backdrop of a quiet lunchtime rendezvous. The air hung with a mixture of surprise and intrigue as you navigated the uncharted territory of personal interaction with Kim Mingyu.

"Never in my life did I think I would have the chance to talk to you until you approached me at the bar," Mingyu began, his words carrying a tinge of vulnerability. "We talked about a lot of things, right? I remembered them all. I also remember... Hmm... What happened next," he nervously confessed.

Your nod signaled acknowledgment, but you found yourself at a loss for words. Mingyu's next statement caught you off guard, "I want to know your feelings about me," he admitted, leaving you slightly taken aback.

Raising your brow, you responded almost whisperingly, "My feelings?" Mingyu nodded earnestly, revealing, "Because I don't resent everything that happened that night. On the contrary, I found it profound."

A pregnant pause hung in the air as you processed his unexpected confession. Finally, you let out a soft chuckle, breaking the tension, "I didn't expect this, Mr. Kim. I mean, it's not very much like how you are portrayed. Your image... is not very much sentimental like this."

Mingyu nodded, "I know, but this is who I am," he explained, his sincerity evident. You released a sigh, leaning back in your chair. Your gaze fixed on him, and you adjusted your posture before expressing, "I don't do romance, Mr. Kim. Honestly, I don't know how to do that. And you know how I'm almost married to my work as Mr. Choi's secretary. I—"

Mingyu quickly nodded, understanding the complexities of your professional life. "Yeah, I understand. I won't rush you. I just want to let you know about my feelings after that night. I'll wait for your answer; take your time," he interjected, cutting through your explanation to emphasize his genuine intention.

You nodded slowly, a quiet acknowledgment of his understanding. "Thanks..." you mumbled, your gratitude mingling with a sense of contemplation.

"And please," Mingyu paused, his eyes holding a plea, "don't avoid me from this time." The request hung in the air, underscoring the vulnerability of the moment.

The encounter with Mingyu left your thoughts in disarray, making it challenging to concentrate on your work. Even Seungcheol's calls failed to pull you out of the daydream that enveloped your mind. Concerned about your well-being after your recent collapse, Seungcheol insisted you leave on time, assuring you that Jun would take care of his needs.

Reluctantly, you took the bus home. As you walked from the bus stop to your shared apartment with Minseo, another sigh escaped your lips. The absence of Minseo for the next two months strangely saddened you, a departure from your usual contentment with solitude.

You never disliked the moments of solitude, relishing the times when you could come home and find Minseo absent. Cooking a delicious meal for her, anticipating her return around 9 while you were immersed in work preparations, and going to bed by 10 had become a comforting routine. However, the sudden longing for Minseo highlighted a void that even the familiarity of solitude couldn't fill.

Your phone rang, and a smile lit up your face when you saw Minseo's name on the caller ID. Greeting her with enthusiasm, you were met with Minseo's melodramatic tone, "What's up with your voice? You're not happy I'm calling you?"

Chuckling softly, you replied, "It's not like that. Just... tired."

Minseo, always quick with her teasing, inquired about the baby. Confused, you questioned, "What's with the baby?"

With an eye roll you could almost feel through the phone, Minseo clarified, "Your baby! The baby inside you... How are they doin'?"

"As tired as their mom," you playfully responded, earning a laugh from Minseo. She then delved into the topic of keeping the baby, referencing her suggestion, to get an abortion. Swiftly dismissing the idea, you explained, "No! I heard it's hurting and takes time to recover. I don't—"

Minseo interrupted with a humorous impersonation, "I don't have time, I have works to do. Bla-bla-bla..." Her words made you laugh.

Regarding the father, you admitted to talking to him but hesitated to share the news. Minseo expressed concern, urging you not to keep the situation from him. However, you confessed, "I just think I don't need him in the frame. You know what I mean."

Concerned, Minseo probed, "But are you gonna be okay with that?" A pregnant pause followed as you contemplated the question, questioning your own feelings about having the baby.

"I don't know. Should I go with your suggestion instead?" you asked, prompting Minseo's playful screams.

"I was just joking! But... I support whatever you decide, Y/n. Just tell me first," Minseo reassured.

As you arrived at your apartment building, you concluded the call, promising to keep Minseo updated. The weight of the decisions ahead lingered, leaving you to grapple with the uncertainty of the future.

Feeling unexpectedly unwell, you woke up with a fever four days later. Quickly, you informed Jun and Seungcheol about the situation through messages, indicating the possibility of taking a day off. Seungcheol, concerned for your well-being, immediately called and offered to take you to the doctor or send one to your house. Politely declining, you assured him that a paracetamol might alleviate the fever.

Throughout the day, you remained in bed, the passage of time marked by your fitful sleep. The darkness outside hinted at the advancing evening, but your fever persisted, accompanied by bouts of nausea. Realizing you hadn't eaten since last night's simple ramen, you mustered the strength to walk to the kitchen.

Dizziness accompanied every step as you prepared another pack of ramen on the stove. Approaching the dinner table where your phone lay, you noticed a barrage of notifications that had accumulated since you turned it off in the morning. Just as you contemplated checking them, a phone call interrupted, and it was Minseo on the line.

Weakly greeting Minseo, you sensed the surprise in her voice as she questioned your well-being. Admitting, "I can't reach you all day. You okay, Y/n?" you confessed, "No... I feel about to faint."

Minseo's voice filled with concern as she pressed for details, "Hey... What's wrong?" The line remained silent as she called out your name repeatedly, growing increasingly anxious.

The lack of response heightened Minseo's panic, a situation she dreaded when leaving you alone. Despite your usual resilience, your occasional bouts of sickness always managed to evoke worry in her. She understood the contrasts in your persona – the organized, straight, and ideal image you presented to the world, counterbalanced by the underlying quirks of your clumsiness and forgetfulness. It was these very qualities that fueled your meticulous note-taking and organizational skills, making you an exceptional secretary.

Minseo, feeling the urgency of the situation, contemplated making a crucial phone call. Aware that something dangerous might transpire if she remained passive, she considered potential contacts. Mr. Park, her father's driver, was quickly dismissed as he was occupied attending to her father. Mr. Seo, her mother's assistant, was also ruled out, as informing him would inevitably reach her mother, who was unaware of Minseo's current location in the States.

Her thoughts turned to her brother. Trusting him implicitly, Minseo decided to call him. Dialing his number, she anxiously waited, relieved when he picked up after only a moment. The connection established, she began to share the concerning situation unfolding with you.

A playful voice greeted Minseo's call, "What is it, Kim Minseo?"

Panicking, Minseo quickly explained, "Oppa, help me! My friend is sick at the moment. And I think she's collapsed in the middle of a phone call!"

There was a pause for seconds before her brother responded, "And then?"

"She's in my apartment; she's my roommate. Can you come and see her? I just wanna know if she's fine," Minseo requested, making a favor to her brother.

She heard him sigh, "Why don't you check her yourself?"

"I'm not in Korea! I'm in the States," Minseo forcefully admitted. "Don't tell anyone."

Curiosity piqued, her brother pressed, "Why are you there? Tell me first!"

Minseo sighed, "I'll tell you later. Please come to my apartment first. Please! Please..."

"Alright, send me the location and details," he finally agreed, the concern evident in his voice.

As Mingyu sighed after ending the call with his younger sister, he signaled his secretary to drive to her apartment first. In the car, he muttered, "She only calls me if she needs anything."

Observing the situation, Mr. Song inquired, "Is it your sister?" Mingyu nodded in confirmation.

"She wants me to check on her friend. I'm a busy person; why doesn't she ask one of her friends?" Mingyu found the request somewhat perplexing.

Deciding to comply, he turned to Mr. Song, "Can you accompany me, Mr. Song? I don't think it'll be appropriate if I'm the only one who goes into the apartment."

Fortunately, the drive took only 15 minutes, as Mingyu was in the nearby area. Once they arrived, Mingyu scrutinized the details his sister had sent, leading them to the 8th floor and apartment number 802. Entering the elevator, Mingyu and Mr. Song ascended to the designated floor.

Arriving on the intended floor, Mingyu and Mr. Song were met with an unexpected aroma of smoke that hung in the air. Mr. Song astutely noticed wisps of smoke escaping from the door of apartment 802.

"Mr. Kim, there's smoke from inside," he urgently alerted Mingyu.

Worried, Mingyu swiftly called Minseo, urgently seeking the passcode. "Is your friend cooking something? There's smoke from inside," he conveyed the developing situation to his sister.

After Mr. Song adeptly opened the door, Mingyu concluded the phone call and entered the apartment. Smoke engulfed them, prompting both Mingyu and Mr. Song to shield their mouths and noses. The room was shrouded in a haze as they cautiously proceeded further inside.

Reacting quickly, Mr. Song rushed to the intercom, activating the smoke detection features. A cascade of water descended from the ceiling, effectively extinguishing the smoke. Simultaneously, Mingyu focused on locating Minseo's friend, while Mr. Song skillfully handled the kitchen fire with an extinguisher.

In a moment of shocking revelation, Mingyu discovered a familiar figure lying weakly on the floor. The unexpected sight heightened the urgency of the situation.

Mingyu's heartbeat seemed to halt for a moment as he realized it was you lying weakly on the floor. Shock and concern painted his features as he swiftly assessed the situation.

"Y/n!" he exclaimed, his worry evident as he helped you navigate through the smoke-filled room. The urgency to get you to safety propelled Mingyu into action.

As the commotion in the apartment drew attention, assistance was summoned to the building. Mingyu carefully supported your weakened body, guiding you towards the paramedics who had arrived on the scene. The gravity of the situation was palpable, and Mingyu's focus remained steadfast on ensuring your well-being.

With a sense of urgency, Mingyu handed you over to the waiting paramedics, who quickly took charge, assessing your condition and providing the necessary care. The atmosphere around the apartment building buzzed with a blend of concern and the organized efforts of those responding to the emergency.

Mingyu, visibly distressed, trailed alongside the paramedics as they transported you to the hospital. Concern etched across his face, he couldn't shake off the worry that had gripped him since discovering you in the smoke-filled apartment.

Meanwhile, Mr. Song took it upon himself to retrieve some essentials for Mingyu. Understanding the need for a change of clothes, he swiftly headed to gather necessary items from Mingyu's residence.

At the hospital, Mingyu anxiously waited by your side as the medical team attended to your needs. The sterile environment of the emergency room seemed to amplify the tension in the air. Mingyu's mind raced with thoughts of your well-being, the unexpected turn of events leaving him grappling with a mixture of anxiety and a fervent hope for your recovery.

As the medical staff worked to stabilize you, Mingyu clung to the hope that the prompt medical attention would bring about positive results. The waiting room became a sanctuary of anticipation, each passing moment laden with the weight of uncertainty.

Mingyu, now clad in fresh and dry clothes, had made the call to Seungcheol, your boss, updating him about your condition. Seungcheol, concerned for his secretary, immediately rushed to the hospital.

In the interim, Mingyu instructed Mr. Song to go home, assuring him that he would wait for any updates on your condition. The hospital room became a temporary haven for Mingyu, a place where the weight of worry and the desire for your recovery lingered.

As Seungcheol entered the room, he looked at Mingyu, his face a mirror of concern. "How did you find her?" Seungcheol inquired, seeking details about the situation.

"My sister called for help; she's her roommate," Mingyu explained, still overwhelmed with the relevance of the events that had unfolded. The anticipation in the room heightened as they waited for the doctor to arrive and shed light on your condition. The air was thick with a sense of urgency and concern, Seungcheol's presence serving as a testament to the tight-knit nature of the professional relationships that had become entwined with personal care and worry.

The doctor entered the room, and a hushed silence fell upon Mingyu and Seungcheol, their eyes locked on the medical professional who held the key to understanding your condition. The doctor, with a composed demeanor, began to detail the situation, "Her lungs were filled with smoke, and we've cleared it. However, recovery will take time, and we recommend several medical check-ups to monitor her progress."

A solemn nod from Mingyu and Seungcheol acknowledged the gravity of the situation. However, the atmosphere shifted when the doctor broached the subject of your pregnancy. "The baby is fine," the doctor reassured, but then added, "Careful body maintenance is crucial, especially in the delicate first trimester, which poses potential risks."

Mingyu and Seungcheol exchanged a bewildered glance, the revelation about your pregnancy catching them off guard. The unspoken tension in the room was palpable, and the weight of unexpected responsibilities settled upon their shoulders.

Surprised by this new information, the doctor, unaware of the dynamics between Mingyu and Seungcheol, inquired about the father. The question hung in the air, adding a layer of complexity to an already intricate situation. "I apologize for having to announce the situation this way," the doctor offered, sensing the discomfort in the room.

As the doctor conducted a few more checks, a conversation ensued between Mingyu and Seungcheol, attempting to process the unforeseen turn of events. Mingyu's voice carried a mix of astonishment and concern, "I had no idea."

Seungcheol, still processing the information, responded with a solemn nod, "Me neither."

The doctor, having fulfilled their medical duties, left the room, leaving Mingyu and Seungcheol to grapple with the newfound realities.

"I don't know Y/n has boyfriend." Seungcheol said as he turned his head toward Mingyu. Meanwhile Mingyu only could stand still in silence. Contemplating everything that has happened.

"Yeah, she's fine. I promised I'll take care of her. Just make sure you tell Mom soon that you're not in Korea," Mingyu reassured his sister over the phone, updating her on your condition.

Mingyu settled onto the sofa in your room, patiently awaiting the moment you'd regain consciousness. The clock mercilessly ticked away, indicating the wee hours of the morning – 3 am. Fatigue tugged at him; Mr. Song and Seungcheol had returned home hours ago. Still, Mingyu couldn't bring himself to leave your side after discovering the truth about your condition – the possibility of you carrying his child.

As he sat there, a mix of concern and anticipation played across Mingyu's face, his fatigue overshadowed by a sense of responsibility and newfound realization. The room held a quiet tension, disrupted only by the rhythmic ticking of the clock.

Mingyu found himself reflecting on the recent conversation with Seungcheol regarding your love life. Seungcheol had candidly admitted that, despite working closely for nearly five years, you never divulged any details about a boyfriend or romantic partner. This revelation was particularly striking, considering your previous role as his father's secretary. Mingyu's thoughts were further compounded by your recent statement that you were not one for romance, leading him to consider the possibility that he might be the only one who had shared intimate moments with you.

A heavy sigh escaped Mingyu as he contemplated his own admission. If he were to be honest, his sentiments mirrored yours. As the CEO, the weight of significant responsibilities for the company and its staff often overwhelmed him. Despite his parents attempting to arrange matches with various conglomerate daughters, none had piqued his interest. Mingyu's sister, ever the worrier, had chosen a different path, steering clear of the family business to pursue a culinary career.

In the quiet of the room, Mingyu grappled with the complexities of his life. The burden of expectations, both familial and professional, weighed heavily on him. His fatigue was not only physical but also carried the weight of emotional fatigue, a longing for something more than the orchestrated connections and societal expectations that surrounded him.

The memory of that pivotal night at Joshua's party flooded back to him. Mingyu recalled the details vividly – you in a sleek black dress, the distinct order you placed at the bar, the subtle grace with which you caught the bartender's attention. And then, there was that moment when you turned your head towards him, inquiring with a simple yet impactful, "How's life, Mr. Kim?" It was a question that had lingered in Mingyu's mind, offering a glimpse of connection and a departure from the orchestrated rhythm of his existence.

Mingyu couldn't help but let out a chuckle, finding himself at a loss for words in response to a question he rarely encountered. "How's life?" he mused internally.

"I don't know, how's yours?" he finally replied to your query, intrigued by the unexpected turn of conversation.

You nonchalantly shrugged and took a sip of your orange juice. "Great... Have to deal with a lot of work. But that's how life's supposed to be, right?" you remarked casually, and Mingyu felt a surprising sense of ease in conversing with you.

As the dialogue unfolded, Mingyu discovered a different side to you. You, who had garnered popularity among his friends, received commendation from Seungcheol for your efficiency as a secretary. Jeonghan and Seokmin, both directors in Seungcheol's company, couldn't stop praising your appearance. To them, it seemed like a waste for someone with your looks to be confined to the role of a secretary. Mingyu, too, was now realizing this as he observed the expression on your face while you responded to the questions he posed. Your answers resonated with him, and the realization sparked a connection that transcended the superficiality of social expectations.

Mingyu's alcohol tolerance had always been high, and he vividly recalled urging you to step outside for some fresh air that night. Amidst the ambient glow near the pool and beneath a palm tree, he found himself whispering compliments about your striking appearance. That innocent exchange led to a shared first kiss, and what began with a kiss soon escalated into something more dangerously intimate. Mingyu, fueled by alcohol, surrendered to the lack of control, embracing the pleasure rather than resenting it. In the haze of the night, he anticipated more with you.

However, the harsh light of morning revealed a stark reality – he was left alone. Cold and isolated, Mingyu attempted to reach out, but you remained elusive, even through Mr. Song. He sought you out at Seungcheol's company, only to discover that you were avoiding him. It wasn't until Wonwoo's birthday that he could finally confront you.

In the midst of that confrontation, Mingyu grappled with unexpected emotions. It dawned on him that what he felt for you transcended the physical, extending beyond mere desire. Through your words, your thoughts, and the passionate expression of your opinions that night, Mingyu realized he had encountered a connection that went beyond the surface – a romantic sentiment.

As the weight of the situation pressed on him, Mingyu confronted a profound question. Was it a sin to consider that the baby you were carrying might be his? The uncertainty hung in the air, a heavy burden that only intensified the emotional turbulence within Mingyu.

"You're awake," Mingyu uttered softly as you slowly opened your eyes, a series of coughs escaping you. Concern etched across his face, Mingyu promptly summoned the doctor to attend to your needs. With a watchful eye, he observed your reactions as the doctor provided an explanation of your condition. A glimmer of hope flickered in Mingyu's gaze when your eyes briefly met his during the mention of your baby's condition.

Once the doctor concluded their visit, Mingyu pulled a chair close to your bedside. "How's your feeling?" he inquired, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You released a heavy sigh before confessing, "I was cooking ramen." Mingyu nodded in acknowledgment, understanding the mundane details that led to your current state. "And it burned your apartment as you collapsed. Your fever has gone down though," he added, checking your temperature and tenderly placing his hand on your forehead.

"Mr. Kim, please stop," you urged, puzzled by the revelation that Mingyu was the one who saved you and brought you to the hospital in the nick of time. "How do you even know my address?" confusion laced your inquiry.

Mingyu, lips tightened, began to explain, "Kim Minseo called me to help his friend. She's... my sister." His nervous explanation hung in the air, leaving a palpable tension as he struggled to find the right words.

A silent gasp escaped you as you connected the dots, realizing the familial connection between Mingyu and your friend Minseo. Mingyu's gaze scrutinized your expression before delicately broaching the topic of the baby. "Do you know that you're expecting?" he cautiously inquired, and you nodded in confirmation.

"A week ago. A day before Mr. Jeon's birthday party," you revealed, answering Mingyu's unspoken question.

Mingyu took a deep breath, "is it mine?" He finally asked.

A prolonged silence hung in the air as you gazed into Mingyu's eyes. The hospital room seemed to hold its breath, the only audible sounds being the hum of medical equipment and distant footsteps. Breaking the stillness, you shook your head quickly and uttered, "It's mine," diverting your eyes elsewhere.

Mingyu released a heavy exhale, his confusion palpable. "It's mine, right?" he pressed again, seeking confirmation and clarity.

In response, you gently urged him to leave. "You should go, Mr. Kim. You must be exhausted, and you have work this morning. Thank you for your kindness," you murmured, closing your eyes as if to feign rest.

As you were discharged from the hospital, a familiar face caught your attention. Wi Seunghyun, your mother's secretary, gestured for you to join him in the waiting car. In silence, you complied, feeling the weight of the gaze that had been following you for months now. The realization of the observer's identity finally dawned on you.

Seunghyun drove you to your parent's house, the journey feeling interminable. Exhaustion clung to you, but nervous anticipation kept your eyes wide open. The looming entrance into the house held the promise of confrontations and revelations. You couldn't help but wonder about your mother's reaction upon learning about your condition.

Upon entering the family room, Seunghyun placed your hospital bag as your mother rose from her seat. Instead of the expected embrace that usually accompanied such news, a hard slap resonated through the room, nearly sending you to the floor. The sting of the unexpected physical blow mirrored the emotional shock of your mother's harsh response, creating a tense and disheartening atmosphere.

"How could you be more stupid, Ji Y/n? Getting pregnant before married? Are you some kind of whore?" Your mother, Sung Yaeun, delivered a harsh commentary on your situation, the biting words cutting through the air after months of not seeing each other.

"You've burned your apartment, gone homeless, and pregnant. You only come home every time you're in trouble," she continued, her words carrying a tone of disappointment and frustration as she moved away to sit on the sofa.

"Mr. Wi, please lock her in her room. Make sure no one could meet her unless by my instruction," she commanded, and without hesitation, Mr. Wi complied, tightening his grip on your arm. As your mother's orders were executed, you found yourself silently following Mr. Wi to your room, watching as you were locked in from the outside, isolated in the familiar yet unwelcoming confines of your old room.

The weight of your mother's harsh words and the physical confinement left you frozen, grappling with the harsh reality of your current predicament. The room, once a place of solace, now felt like a prison, amplifying the emotional turmoil within you.

Returning to this room after almost 10 years, you sighed, a mixture of exhaustion and sorrow escaping you as your body leaned against the door. The realization of the gravity of the situation hit you, and silent tears streamed down your face.

The memories of the last time you were in this house surfaced – the day your father passed away. Locked away and denied the chance to bid your father farewell, you had been blamed for his death by your mother. This confinement, the echoes of past injustices, resonated with the pain you thought you had left behind.

The recollection of being locked away and unjustly accused of your father's death brought forth a flood of emotions. Despite the passing years, the wounds remained fresh. The recognition that you didn't deserve the treatment meted out by your mother – the isolation, the starvation – washed over you. It wasn't the first time you had experienced being locked away, but now, you understood you didn't deserve it.

Escaping to your former nanny's house had been your refuge, a sanctuary where you completed your education and found a way to stand on your own. Working as Seungcheol's dad's secretary marked a turning point, allowing you to secure your own place and break free from the shackles of your past. Yet, the return to this house served as a stark reminder of the pain you had endured and the strength it took to overcome it.

From childhood, you grappled with the perplexing mystery of your mother's disdain. Her treatment was marked by physical abuse, emotional neglect, and an unsettling abandonment of your presence. Your father, blinded by allegiance, justified her actions under the guise of it being for your own good. Yet, amidst the turmoil, you slowly comprehended that love was an elusive sentiment within the confines of your home. The only solace you found was in the embrace of your nanny, Gam Mijoo, who became the beacon of warmth and care you craved.

As time unfolded, you began treating Mijoo as a surrogate parent, finding the love and nurturing that had eluded you elsewhere. However, the cruel hands of fate intervened when she passed away during your college years, succumbing to a heart attack.

Locked away in your childhood home, memories of Mijoo's comforting presence fueled your resilience. Despite the pain, you vowed to provide a different life for your unborn child, one filled with love and understanding.

A week had passed, and Mingyu found himself seated in front of his parents after a month, attempting to salvage their weekly dinners that had turned sporadic due to his demanding schedule. Amidst the shared meal, his father dropped an unexpected bombshell, leaving not only Mingyu but also his mother visibly stunned.

Mingyu's mother's voice rose to an uncharacteristic pitch, "What?!"

"Daeyoung suddenly came and congratulated me for your engagement. So, I was wondering if you finally found a girl you want to marry," his father revealed, triggering a heavy sigh from Mingyu. Lee Jaewook, the scoundrel.

The air thickened with tension as Mingyu grappled with the unforeseen revelation, and a mixture of disbelief and frustration played across his mother's face.

"So the woman from the article weeks ago. It was her? Your fiancée?" Mingyu's mother suddenly bombarded him with questions, referring to a photo taken while Mingyu was escorting you to his hotel room on the night of Joshua's birthday. Fortunately, they had blurred your face, only his was visible.

"Let's not talk about that," Mingyu said, attempting to halt his parents' interrogation.

His mother scoffed, "Why? We should talk about this! How dare you have an engagement without involving us. Is that a trend among youth nowadays?" Mingyu's father nodded in agreement, intensifying Mingyu's fatigue as he grappled with what response to give his parents.

"So, who's the girl? When can we meet her?" His father asked with curiosity, leaning in for answers.

Mingyu, caught off guard, shrugged, hesitating to provide an immediate response. "Answer your father, Kim Mingyu," urged his mother, her tone demanding clarity.

Sighing, Mingyu mumbled, "She's busy," buying himself time to consider his next words.

Mingyu's mother's eyes sparkled with curiosity, "Is she finishing her study abroad so that she can't meet us as soon as possible?" she guessed, eager for details. However, Mingyu shook his head, revealing a different truth.

"She's Seungcheol's secretary," Mingyu confessed, the weight of the revelation settling in the room.

Mingyu's father furrowed his brows, questioning, "You're in a relationship with a subordinate? Is she from a conglomerate?" The inquiry sent a wave of nervous tension through Mingyu as he grappled with the potential implications of his choices.

Mingyu shook his head, trying to maintain a facade of calmness. "She's an ordinary staff," he stated, a hint of defiance in his voice.

His mother gasped, "No! Your grandfather won't let you become the heir if you don't marry a conglomerate," she mumbled, a sense of family expectations weighing heavily on the conversation.

Rolling his eyes, Mingyu asserted, "I won't marry a spoiled conglomerate daughter," expressing his firm stance.

The discussion continued, with Mingyu's mother expressing her desire for him to marry someone he truly wanted. However, in the midst of their conversation, a sudden interruption occurred as Mingyu's father's secretary approached, presenting something on his screen. All eyes shifted to Mingyu, who was in the midst of his dinner.

"What?" Mingyu inquired, slightly irritated.

His father, removing his glasses and placing them on the dinner table, declared, "Kim Mingyu, I want you to bring her this weekend." A pregnant pause filled the air.

The weight of those words hit Mingyu like a sudden storm. Shocked and unable to comprehend what he had just heard, he rose from his seat and walked away from the dinner table. Mingyu hastily grabbed his phone, bombarded with messages from his secretary and friends. The notifications revealed a shocking headline: 'Kim Mingyu Seen in Hospital, Mysterious Girl Turns Out to be a Fiancée.' The revelation sent a wave of disbelief and confusion through Mingyu's already tumultuous evening.

Mingyu hurriedly made his way to his apartment, where he and Mr. Song had agreed to meet. Just as he entered, his phone rang, and Seungcheol's name flashed on the screen. Bracing himself, he answered, "I can explain."

A storm of rage and fury erupted from Seungcheol's voice, "How dare you touch my secretary!"

Concerned about your well-being, Mingyu quickly inquired, "Are you with her, hyung?" Hoping you were safe and in the company of Seungcheol.

Seungcheol's hum echoed through the phone, "In fact, she's been living in my house for almost a week."

Mingyu felt a stab of surprise, almost losing his composure at the unexpected revelation. "Why is she in your house?" he questioned, trying to make sense of the situation.

Seungcheol explained calmly, "You remember her apartment was burnt? It takes time to get it done. So she's living here temporarily. My girlfriend didn't mind either."

Sighing in relief, Mingyu acknowledged, "Alright, I'll be there in twenty, hyung." He ended the call, immediately contacting Mr. Song to redirect him to Seungcheol's place. As Mingyu navigated the complexities of the unfolding events, emotions ranging from relief to confusion swirled within him.

"She's in her room with Nari," Seungcheol mentioned, referring to his girlfriend. "However, I want to have a talk with you first," he continued, gesturing for Mingyu to sit on his couch.

As they settled into an uneasy silence, Seungcheol voiced the thought lingering in the air, "So, you two have an affair that I don't know," his words carried a mix of accusation and confusion, leaving Mingyu grappling for an adequate explanation.

Seungcheol's gaze bore into Mingyu, probing for answers, "Is she the girl in the recent articles?"

Mingyu, feeling the weight of truth, nodded, adding, "Also the one you've seen previously."

Curiosity etched Seungcheol's face as he asked, "How long have you two been seeing each other?"

Nervously shaking his head, Mingyu replied, "We're not seeing each other. It just happened... But I truly care for her."

Seungcheol observed Mingyu's sincerity before delivering a revelation that added another layer of complexity, "I can see... But you know, Y/n's situation is complicated. She's having a baby."

Mingyu nodded, acknowledging the weight of the situation. "I actually think... it's mine," he confessed, revealing the depth of his realization.

Seungcheol, unfazed but understanding, remarked, "Kinda expected it, seeing how shocked you were when the doctor revealed it."

"However," Seungcheol continued, his frustration evident, "I don't think it's time for romance and all. The situation has become so complicated." He wiped his face, grappling with the complexities ahead.

Exhaling heavily, Mingyu leaned on the sofa, admitting, "I told my parents that we're both engaged. And they want to meet us this weekend."

Seungcheol silently gasped, his eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and resignation. "Kim Mingyu," he sighed, closing his eyes, "you know how to make things even more complicated." The tangled web of emotions and circumstances unfolded, leaving both men entangled in a situation neither had anticipated.

After a lengthy discussion with Mingyu, you concluded that it would be better to temporarily live with him rather than in Seungcheol's house. Despite Seungcheol being not only a great boss but also a good friend, you didn't want to impose on him and his girlfriend any further. Mingyu had shared his parents' response to the recent article, urging you to attend the upcoming dinner as his fiancée to maintain a semblance of normalcy. You agreed, as long as your identity remained private and Mingyu handled the situation.

However, there was one piece of shocking news for Mingyu. In reality, you were the heir of JIS Corp, a global automotive company based in South Korea. Your father, Ji Seunggi, was a former president of JIS Corp before it transitioned to being managed by a board vote after his passing. Meanwhile, your mother currently held the position of CEO within the company. The revelation left Mingyu puzzled and intrigued.

As Mingyu processed this unexpected disclosure, the question lingered in the air: why did you decide to work with Seungcheol despite your prominent family background?

"I didn't know you were Minseo's roommate," Mingyu admitted as you both drove to his place.

Humming, you responded, "I didn't know you were Minseo's brother." The revelation about your family backgrounds hadn't been a topic of discussion between you and Minseo, both preferring to keep a low profile regarding your respective family names.

Mingyu recalled a recent phone call with his sister, "She called me to help you that night... She's technically begging."

You sighed, acknowledging Minseo's sometimes bothersome but well-intentioned nature, "Yeah, she can be a bit—"

Mingyu cut in with a soft chuckle, "I know what you mean, darling."

Blinking at the unexpected pet name, you couldn't help but wonder, "Darling?" His choice of endearment added a surprising layer to the conversation, leaving you slightly taken aback.

You cleared your throat and asked, "Is your place far?" Mingyu shook his head.

"Not that far. It's pretty close to my company building and Choi Group. Do you drive to work?" Mingyu inquired.

"No," you confessed, surprising him. "Surprisingly, I couldn't drive."

Mingyu's brows raised, "Really? Then who drives for you and Seungcheol hyung?"

"Mostly, Mr. Won," you mentioned Seungcheol's driver. "But sometimes Seungcheol drove himself."

Mingyu smiled, "It's the first time I heard you call hyung by his name. It was always Mr. Choi."

You sighed, "I know, it's still awkward for me to change it. I've been calling him Mr. Choi for the past 5 years. He asked me, though, so I can't really refuse." You explained your reason to Mingyu.

"How about calling me Mingyu? Is it gonna be burdensome for you?"

You tilted your head, unsure. "I don't know."

Mingyu smirked, "Or do you have anything in your mind? Babe? Honey? Yeobo?" He joked, and you sighed loudly.

"Mingyu," you said carefully, a wide grin appearing on Mingyu's face.

"That's better than Mr. Kim," Mingyu remarked, savoring the shift in familiarity between you two.

Once you two arrived at his place, Mingyu immediately offered any assistance as you settled onto the couch. He took the time to give you a brief tour of his clean and organized house, explaining the available guest room for you.

"You could put your stuff and clothes here," he suggested, pointing to a section in his closet connected to his home office.

As you settled in, Mingyu inquired about cooking, to which you nodded hesitantly, not wanting to impose on him further. Surprisingly, he suggested, "Me too. But we're out of ingredients. Do you mind going to the grocery store tomorrow?"

"Sure," you agreed, appreciating his willingness to share responsibilities.

Mingyu bit his lip, hesitating before revealing a shelf in his kitchen stocked with pregnancy products—from formula to vitamins and snacks. "I asked my secretary to have this ready for you... just in case you need them," he explained.

Looking at the products, you shifted your gaze to Mingyu and whispered, "Thanks." His hand reached for yours on the kitchen island, intertwining fingers. "Just want the best for the baby," he mumbled, his genuine concern evident.

Watching your hands together, you found a sense of security around Mingyu. The revelation escaped your lips, "Our baby." The words surprised both of you, Mingyu's eyes meeting yours at the unexpected declaration.

"O-our? Yeah, our baby," Mingyu stammered, taken aback by your words. The truth revealed in that moment opened a new chapter, catching both of you off guard but bringing a genuine connection to the forefront.

In the warm glow of Mingyu's living room, a vulnerable question hung in the air. "Are you accepting my feelings, Y/n?" Mingyu courageously asked, his heart brimming with emotions that he struggled to put into words. Happiness? Love? Tonight had certainly stirred something profound within him.

Rather than answering immediately, you took a slow and hesitant step towards him. With arms outstretched, you embraced his torso, your voice barely audible as you mumbled, "Please take care of me." Mingyu's chest tightened with the rapid beating of his heart, mirroring your vulnerability. His hands mirrored yours, enveloping your body in a reassuring embrace.

"Let's stay like this for a moment, okay?" Mingyu whispered, creating an atmosphere of quiet intimacy, where unspoken emotions lingered in the air.

In that tender moment, Mingyu's soothing words broke the silence, "You're doing great, Y/n... You're doing so well." The sincerity in his compliment was palpable, marking the first time you felt a genuine acknowledgment of your efforts and emotions. The atmosphere shifted into one of mutual understanding and acceptance, as the connection between you two deepened in the stillness of the room.

The weight of suffocating thoughts pulled you from your sleep, haunted by the lingering fear of a repeat incident since the last apartment fire. Midnight's dimness cast a soft glow as you rose from your bed, craving solace in a sip of water. A leak of light drew your attention to Mingyu's home office – was he still working?

The desire for something more than water surfaced, remembering the provisions Mingyu had prepared. As you opened the shelf, searching for a glass, a realization struck – there were none in sight. An unexpected arm reaching for a higher shelf startled you.

"I'm sorry," Mingyu said, aware of his sudden movement. He handed you a glass, taking a step back as you proceeded to make yourself a comforting glass of milk.

"You're still working at this hour?" you asked Mingyu, breaking the silence that lingered in the dimly lit room.

Mingyu shrugged, "Just finishing some paperwork," he explained.

Turning towards him, you offered, "Need help?" anticipating the weight of late-night tasks.

Mingyu chuckled, "I appreciate it, but no thanks. I couldn't pay you overtime." He joked, acknowledging the unconventional hour – 2 in the morning.

Laughing softly, you reassured him, "Seungcheol pays me enough. Just take it as a rent payment."

Mingyu shook his head, refusing the suggestion, "I should ask for those rent payments for something else."

Curious, you asked, "What do you mean?" with a chuckle.

Mingyu playfully suggested, "Maybe a kiss? Or..." leaving the sentence open-ended.

Rolling your eyes, you responded, "Shut up," as you finished making your milk and settled onto the counter.

Mingyu followed you to the counter, his arms unconsciously creating a barricade as he stood beside you. "How's your everyday life look like?" he asked, breaking the quietude of the night.

Sipping on your milk, you shared, "It's pretty basic. Waking up, having breakfast that I prepared the night before. I walk to the bus station, grab breakfast and coffee for Seungcheol on the way to the office. After work, if I'm too tired, I'll take a cab. Sometimes, Mr. Won drives me home too."

"Sometimes I think about learning to drive, but I'm just too afraid," you admitted.

Mingyu nodded, his mind drifting to a shocking news from 15 years ago. "My father died in a car accident," you revealed, watching his face as you shared such a deeply personal and traumatic piece of information. "I was with him, in the car." The weight of the revelation lingered, creating an unspoken connection between you and Mingyu in the quiet of the night.

Mingyu let out a heavy breath slowly. His arms raised to embrace you, "I'm glad you're safe," he said, tightening the hug. In that quiet moment, the weight of past fears and unspoken pain became a bridge, connecting you and Mingyu in the comfort of the present.

Dear diary,

Today marks the beginning of my second year of Senior High School. I'm grateful that Minseo and I are in the same class again this year. I don't know how I would survive high school without Minseo. Although I've befriended everyone, Minseo has been a pillar of support for me since the last time 'she' taunted me.

Minseo confided in me that she likes Taehyung, a boy who sits in front of her and enjoys listening to music with headphones. She mentioned they will have a group project after school, and if Taehyung doesn't ask her out, she plans to make the first move. Minseo asked me if there's anyone I'm interested in within our class or even in the entire school. She seemed surprised when I said no. How could someone not liking anyone yet be considered weird? Perhaps it's because my standards are as high as my father's. Speaking of my father, he's the greatest man I've ever known. However, I couldn't just reveal to Minseo that my father was the President of JIS Corp, could I?

I miss my father.

Dear diary,

Today, after visiting my therapist, she prescribed me sleeping pills in case nightmares return. Meanwhile, Minseo informed me that she dropped out of her business major in college, and she seems genuinely happy about it. I'm relieved she's finally able to choose her own path. I wonder if her parents reacted as negatively as mine did.

When was the last time I saw 'her'? Perhaps a year ago, at my father's memorial. She questioned my presence there, as if I weren't part of the family. I chose not to engage with her, following my therapist's advice: block those who hurt you and prevent you from loving yourself.

What is love anyway? I've forgotten its meaning since 'she' did what she did. I wonder if I'll ever experience love again. It's difficult to develop an interest in anyone.

Continue to part 2

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bunny584 · 3 months

Text

OBSESSED: FUSHIGURO

A/N: OH. MY. GOD. Anon. I love you and hate you for this request. This was…hard. I told myself I wouldn’t publish it unless it was fucking perfect (you should see the scalpels I took to each goddamn sentence before this version).

SECOND: I will square up with Gege for writing the most enigmatic, LAYERED, complex, muddled character to exist. I wanted this to be Megumi. Through and through. His darkness, his light, his reservation, his crazy, all in one. And IDK. I think I did it? This one is purely to prove to myself that I can write for characters that are hard to write for (*cough* yuta im glaring at you *cough*)

THIRD: if you do read this (I get people feel things about aged up characters etc), I implore you to listen to this. Guys. I heard this at 0200 IN THE OR during a 6 hour case and the entire concept for this came to me. Meg is sophisticated and unruly, selfless and selfish, etc. So this has some NSFW but definitely probably more on the poetic, long ends of my works.

CW: Aged up characters (20+), college AU, fluffy/raunchy/dark romance-y because LOOK at him. He takes after Gojo AND Toji. Mature, 18+

“You like it when I’m rough.”

Megumi’s melody rings crystal clear.

Low.

Precise.

An F-14 Tomcat fighter jet, flying dark. Below enemy radar.

The piano keys float beneath his tone. His long, slender, deft fingers effortlessly execute the sheet music before him. It’s his GPS system, a personal flight map.

Little Beethoven, his advanced music theory professor calls him.

Truth is, Megumi is a prolific pianist and vocalist. He can tame any note, any melody, any harmony faster than any of his Shikigami.

Speaking of…

Megumi pulls off the piano and tortured love song in an instant. Just as the grade 3 curse creeps through the open door.

The part between his right long and ring fingers is automatic. His left hand grips the web space between his right thumb and index finger.

“Demon dog.” Megumi summons.

Low. Precise. Decisive.

“Eat it, boy.”

A small, approving smile tugs on the corners of his lips. Low level curses are the nothing more than chew toys to his divine dogs. With a tiny wave of his fingers, his technique buzzes inward.

Megumi’s eyes float to the ancient analog clock on the wall.

13:50

10 more minutes until you’ll meet him for your date.

No. Not date.

Study. 10 more minutes until you’re meeting him to study.

Your thought blooms within him like wildfire. It sets his normally cool, porcelain skin ablaze.

Megumi whips his body around to face the piano. To exorcise the feeling. The keyboard has always been his outlet. His life blood. Playing, singing, musing in and out of written songs is his catharsis.

Words don’t come easy. They never have. But lyrics do.

And when he gets to ride lyrics with his voice, his runs..?

The words he can never find on his own are suddenly out there. In the atmosphere. Coating empty rooms in a mist of his thoughts, his feelings.

No certain promise that the person the words are destined for will ever catch them. Or ever walk through the room and be kissed by the remnants of his musical trail. But Megumi has said (sung, played) them. And that’s enough.

“Sorry if I come across a type of way.”

“I’ve been trying to get out of my way…”

His fingers dive into the keys. Angrily. Earnestly.

“I know it doesn’t seem like I care, but you know I care—“

“Wow Meg, you sound incredible.”

You bring him to an abrupt stop. Your voice is maple syrup trailing down Megumi’s neck, leaving goosebumps in its candied wake.

Pitch fucking perfect.

A soft, ethereal C, gliding down Heaven’s staircase. You infuse sunlight into his name, whichever way you choose to say it.

And it’s hell. It’s cruel. To have as keen hearing as he does. To listen to you sing his name and have nothing else follow.

“Fushiguro.” Megumi shoots up from his seat, slinging his backpack over one shoulder.

“What?”

“Fushiguro.” He repeats, eyes briefly meeting yours before settling above your head. He’s at least a head and shoulders taller.

“Nobody calls me Meg.”

You throw your head back. Feather light crescendo in your laughter. It’s pretty. Tantalizing in the way chandeliers twinkle when they capture a beam of light.

His eyes dart down to catch the feminine column of your neck. Curving into your delicate collar bones. How are your lines so seamless?

So cinematic. Like he’s watching a figure skater land a triple axel. Or a prima ballerina en pointe. It’s not fathomable.

Gorgeous.

You are gorgeous.

“I call you Meg.” You retort with a smile that liquifies all of his joints.

You double your walking speed to keep pace with Megumi’s long strides. Both of you exit the sound engineering building. Heading straight for the campus library a couple blocks away.

“Who were you—oh,” Megumi’s glacial hand along the small of your back steals your voice away.

Your eyes and feet follow his gentle push, shifting you to the other side of him.

“Walking on the wrong side.” He mutters, monotone. Matter-of-fact. Obviously.

He’s a gentleman. Of course he is going to walk on the traffic facing edge of the sidewalk.

Of course he didn’t feel the electric currents wire through his fingers to clench — suffocate — his heart.

No, he didn’t hear that punched out, falsetto gasp when his hand cradled your perfectly tapered waist.

Or notice how well you fit into his hand. How light you are under his touch that had none of his real strength behind it.

You’re made of alluring lines. Intoxicating sounds.

What would it take to coax a pretty melody out of your pouty lips?

His fingers?

They’re long. And smart. Cold. Remarkably patient. You’d like them.

He could make you love them.

Crave them. Need, whimper, whine, and cry out for them.

“So who was it?” You tether him to reality.

“Who was what?” Megumi counters, leading you to a private study room.

“The way you were singing earlier.”

Hairs along the back of his neck stand at attention. Blood runs Siberian cold. Megumi’s gaze on you is subzero.

“It had to be for someone.” You lower down into a seat in slow motion.

The sweetheart neckline of your sundress is mean. Your supple mounds tilt and ripple with every micro movement. Megumi has forgotten why he’s glaring at you.

“You sound too…pretty. It can’t be wasted on thin air.” You continue.

“She must be—“

“Let’s just get started, okay?” He sharply redirects the conversation.

And promptly shifts gear to low autopilot. He’ll speak when spoken to, answer questions intermittently. But his mind’s true coordinates are a galaxy away.

Megumi retreats to his shadow garden.

Watching you.

Drinking you in.

Savoring each detail on his tastebuds like dessert.

The pencil eraser leaves an indent on your bottom lip where you’ve been pressing too hard.

Megumi wants to roll your bottom lip under his teeth. Until it flushes rose and swells beneath his relentless pull.

His eyes fall to your bracelet, far too big for your dainty wrist.

He could hold both of your wrists in one hand above your head or behind your back for hours. Without breaking a sweat.

His other hand would take its time.

To stroke you. Pet you. Learn your sheet music. Then play your body like a harp until you’re a chorus of beautiful, soprano whimpers and moans. Begging and pleading so prettily, enticing him to give in.

But he won’t.

Not until you’re soft enough. A babbling, warm, ruined brook beneath his fingers.

Then he’ll take you, gorgeous.

Searing pain from his sharp swallow and nails digging into his thighs rip him down to the present.

Vision a little fuzzy. Head a revolving door of vulgar scenarios. A dull, demanding ache between his legs draws his eyes to his lap.

Fucking hell.

His jeans are uncomfortable. He’s stiff and needy. Not nearly enough strength in his pants to hold back his drunken arousal.

Not to the mention, the—

swarm of shadows growing at his feet?

Is his…innate domain materializing around him right now?

Megumi aggressively slices through the air at his hip level. Below the table, but you don’t miss his sudden stirring.

“Meg? You okay over—“

“Going to the bathroom.” He gruffs through a clenched jaw. Megumi places his forearm over his crotch before hurrying out of the room.

He can barely recognize the man in the mirror. Flushed to his ears. Volcanoes threatening eruption in his eyes. Api Biru. Pure, triple distilled, blue lava coursing through his veins.

Snap out of it, Fushiguro.

The splash of cold water does nothing for his internal heat. But his milky complexion returns to its effervescent state.

But then he turns a little too quickly to leave. And his painfully hard length drags along his fabric. It’s blinding.

A feeble moan tumbles out of his tight lips.

“Fuck.”

Megumi slams his eyes shut. He needs to readjust. But if he touches himself now, he might not be able to stop.

A slow, steadying breath fills his lungs.

“Just adjust, don’t…” His voice trails off. Icey fingers around his hot, angry base is enough to rip the carpet from beneath his feet.

“Oh, fuck.” Megumi mumbles through one quick pump up his shaft.

He shakes his head as if to tell himself enough. He rests his erection along his thigh before zipping up. Still painful, but tolerable.

A tornado obliterates any remaining resolve in Megumi’s mind on his walk back to you.

You are a dream.

Or a nightmare? A curse?

It doesn’t matter. He couldn’t care less.

Megumi would follow you. Deeper than the crypts of his 10 shadows. Into hell if it meant he could have you the way he wants you.

The way he craves you.

Because fuck the cost.

He’d pay anything.

You’re working on an elaborate concept diagram on the white board. On the tip of your toes. Lip curled under your teeth. And you are just irresistible.

So, he won’t resist.

“Meg! Took you a bit, you okay?”

Megumi is silent. Unblinking. Sauntering toward you.

“Megumi?”

You lower to the soles of your shoes. Neck craning to look at his face. Your eyes widen at his persistent silence. Rosy heat dusting your cheeks.

Pretty little doe, rooted in place by his wolfish glare.

Megumi takes the marker out of your hand and tosses it behind him in one swift motion.

“Hmm,” a tiny acknowledgment of his name. Just because it sounds so sweet rolling off your tongue.

Megumi corners you against the wall. Both of his hands casually in his pockets.

He watches you shift. Flicker your eyes in every direction. Fiddle with your thumbs.

His quiet.

His presence.

It flusters you. Well before he’s gotten the chance to run his hands along the lazy curve of your waist and hips.

“So…so blue.” You stammer. Your warm eyes metronome between his.

“They are.”

Megumi steps impossibly closer. His eyes drop to your chest. Dainty, nervous heaves. Up and down. Up and down.

“You are so,” you swallow thickly, dropping your gaze. “hard to read.”

Megumi snakes his large, graceful fingers into your nape. The temperature difference between your warmth and his cold startles you deeper into his grasp. Your head evanesces into his pull.

A beautiful, shocked gasp escapes you. Just as Megumi’s lips trace the shell of your ear.

“I want you.”

His breaths collide with yours, now. Heat welling deep in his groin. His cock thunders against his thigh.

“Can you read that?” Megumi rasps. Ensuring his voice vibrates down your spine.

A new sound tumbles from your lips. Like you choked on your last swallow. How pretty. You gurgling and gagging like that.

“W-want me? Megumi wh—“

“I.” Megumi nudges his thigh between your legs. His steel pipe erection digs into your dewy, hot core. He angles his leg slightly upward, inching you on the tip of your toes.

His prima ballerina, en pointe.

“Want you.” His lips ghost against yours. Free hand cups the flesh beneath your thigh. Pads of his fingers twitching to dig in.

The two of you drink in this lock-in-key fit. Megumi revels in you. Like this. At his complete mercy.

The prodigal son, born with more power than he knows what to do with.

Ten shadows. Ten Shikigami. It’s been centuries since the last head of his bloodline had power buzzing beneath his fingertips like him.

And somehow he’s never felt more powerful than this.

With you, heaven’s most precious angel, cradled in his arms. Drowning in sinful ecstasy. He brands this freeze frame into the most permanent part of his memory.

Then, he free falls off your cliff edge.

Megumi takes your lips with unfettered greed. Hunger woven into the way his tongue traces every corner of your delectable, soft mouth. His fingers push your head deeper into him. Sucking and nibbling on your warm muscle.

You shower him with airy, choppy little pants. Moans and whines so light they crescendo to fairy dust. You can’t keep up with his bruising kiss. His other hand palms your thigh, kneading little bruises into your silky smooth skin.

Marking what’s his.

“Oh my god.”

You breathe into his mouth when he lets you up for air. Megumi’s eyes dart down to the meeting point of your sex and his muscular thigh.

Did you really think he wouldn’t notice how you’re rutting your pretty little cunt against his leg like that?

Crimson high on your cheeks. You look away when he tries to catch your fucked out gaze.

“Don’t hide from me, gorgeous.” His hand traces up to your hips. You preen into his firm grip.

“Megumi.”

“Don’t stop, pretty girl.” He forcefully moves your hips in more dramatic, languid, deep rolls against his thigh. He’s not paying any mind to the pool of his precum soaking through his pants.

You bury your head in his neck. Fingernails digging pretty crescent moons into his back. You take over the pace. Undulating against him. Shameless. In complete heat.

“You feel s-so…so good.” Your lips smear against his dampened neck. Megumi responds by circling your puffy, slick bud with his fingers.

And fuck. The slurred, broken whimper that rings in his ears.

The way you hump him even more sloppily.

He could finish from that alone.

Your hand flies to your mouth. Empty huffs spilling. Whines ascending in pitch. You are close.

“Such pretty sounds, baby.”

“Megumi…meg..I-“

“Let it out.” He grips the back of your neck. Feeling dangerously close to his own nirvana. Drunk off your precious melody.

“Sing for me.”

“F-fuck, GOD.”

You bite down on his neck. Waves of pleasure crashing into you like hurricane winds. He grips your waist steady. Feeling every involuntary twitch and jerk of your doll-like frame.

Blessing or curse?

He doesn’t know.

But he will follow you to the end of his lifetime and the next.

“God, Fushiguro. That was…” The lusty haze from your peak settles around you. The once shattered world, slowly pieces itself back together.

“No.” Megumi pulls you out of his neck. Dropping his lips to yours, so he can breathe the air directly from your lungs.

“Meg. You call me Meg.”

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pin-k-ink · 4 days

Text

study session // akaashi keiji

tw ⇢ mutual pining, making out, soft sex, nipple play, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, getting caught(?), bokuto being bokuto

wc ⇢ 5.9k

The deadbolt thunked softly as Akaashi twisted his key, shoulders sagging with fatigue after another marathon day of editing. He toed off his loafers, inhaling the familiar blend of books and bergamot that enveloped the apartment he shared with his roommate - you, Bokuto's younger sister.

A muffled sniffle drifted from down the hall, immediately snapping Akaashi's focus into sharp awareness. Frowning slightly, he followed the sound toward your bedroom. The door was ajar, spilling a thin blade of light across the hardwood.

Akaashi hesitated with his knuckles hovering outside the door frame, another watery hiccup reaching his ears. Quietly, he rapped his knuckles against the wood.

"Y/N, are you alright?" he called out gently.

A tremulous inhale, then your voice filtered through, think and wavering. "A-Akaashi? Y-Yeah, I'm...I'm okay."

But the attempt at false bravery was betrayed by the slight quaver marring your tone. Akaashi's brow furrowed in sincere concern, fingers already grasping the door handle.

"May I come in?"

A pause, then a resigned sigh. "Okay..."

He pushed the door open slowly to find you hunched over your desk, shoulders trembling and face streaked with tears. Textbooks and notepads were strewn haphazardly, evidence of the chaotic state of your studies. Akaashi felt a pang in his chest at the rare sight of your usual sunny disposition so distraught and overwhelmed.

"Oh Y/N..." He crossed the room in three strides, circling around to crouch beside you. "What's wrong? Talk to me."

You swiped the sleeve of your sweatshirt uselessly across your damp cheeks, exhaling a ragged breath. "It's just...there's so much material to review for midterms and I'm f-falling behind. I've been studying nonstop but nothing is sticking and I'm so stressed out..."

The dam of frustration you'd been holding back finally burst as your voice hitched dangerously on those last words. Akaashi watched, utterly helpless, as you dissolved into fresh sobs muffled behind your palms.

For a moment, he wavered, unsure of the proper decorum to provide comfort without overstepping boundaries. But the sight of your dejected hunched form overwhelmed any hesitation. Tenderly, he reached out to pull you into his embrace, tucking your face into the reassuring warmth of his chest.

You immediately melted against him, tremors wracking your frame as the tears soaked through the soft cotton of his dress shirt. Akaashi just held you close, cheek pillowed atop your crown as he murmured soothing reassurances.

"It's okay, just breathe...you've got this..."

In that dimly-lit sanctuary of your bedroom, he allowed himself to admit the truth simmering beneath his concern - the soft cadence of your breath fanning across his collarbone, the pliant weight of you cradled against his chest...it all felt so intrinsically right. As if you belonged sheltered in his arms.

The realization should have startled Akaashi more than it did. Yet, somehow his heart had already accepted the quiet inevitability of the tenderness blooming between you two over years of being roommates.

Eventually, your hitched breathing began to even out, arms tentatively circling his waist as you reigned in your spiked emotions. When at last you pulled back, Akaashi was gutted by your reddened eyes and wan expression - outer signs of the immense strain you were enduring.

"God, I'm so sorry..." you mumbled, avoiding his gaze self-consciously. "You must think I'm an over-emotional wreck."

"Not at all," he replied, cupping your cheek with one palm to tilt your face back toward him. "You've been pushing yourself incredibly hard. It's only natural the stress would eventually need an outlet."

Akaashi held your wavering stare, silently willing you to grasp his understanding, his concern, the unacknowledged tenderness reflecting behind his carefully composed exterior. Finally, you managed a watery semblance of your usual vibrant smile - a flicker of your indomitable spirit that never failed to stir his heart.

"Thank you, Akaashi. I don't know what I'd do without your steadying presence when I'm a mess like this."

"Anytime," he murmured, the words carrying more weight than he perhaps intended. Clearing his throat, he sat back on his heels. "Now...why don't you take a short break, splash some water on your face? Then come find me in the living room. I'll help you go over whatever topics are tripping you up."

Your eyes widened fractionally at his offer of studying together, then crinkled with renewed determination and gratitude. "Really? You don't mind? God, that would be incredible..."

"Of course not. We'll tackle this together." Akaashi rose fluidly to his feet. "I'll put on a pot of tea for us."

As he retreated into the hallway, he couldn't deny the faint fluttering warmth that blossomed in his chest. Though he assisted you frequently with your coursework, there was an unusual anticipation thrumming beneath his skin now. Perhaps amplified by those tender, unfurling moments of connection in your bedroom.

He allowed himself a fleeting smile, letting the cozy atmosphere of your shared apartment enfold him as he busied himself preparing the tea tray. Yes, something had definitively shifted between you two tonight. And Akaashi found himself unexpectedly eager to embrace whatever this newintimacy ushered in.

The gentle rattling of ceramic cups and quiet brewing of the electric kettle provided a soothing soundtrack as Akaashi arranged the tea tray. He inhaled the grounding aroma of bergamot and lemon, mentally preparing himself to tackle your studies with the same care he devoted to his editorial work.

Just as he finished setting out the teacups, you padded into the living room - face scrubbed clean and radiant smile tentatively resurfacing. Akaashi felt his chest constrict at how achingly tender and vulnerable you appeared, swathed in an over-sized university hoodie. He had to resist the sudden impulse to pull you back into his arms.

"Hey, all set whenever you are," you murmured, rubbing the dampness from your cheeks. You settled cross-legged on the floor, back resting against the sofa as you gathered your notes and textbooks onto the coffee table.

Akaashi poured the fragrant tea, sliding one steaming cup towards you before joining on the floor opposite. You offered him a grateful look over the rim as you sipped carefully, face visibly relaxing as the warmth seeped into you.

"Okay," he prompted in that low, soft timbre of his. "Where should we start?"

You worried your bottom lip - an endearing quirk he'd noticed you did when concentrating hard. "Umm...organic chemistry has been really kicking my ass lately. If we could go over some of the molecular structure concepts?"

Nodding, Akaashi reached for your notebook, allowing your shoulders to brush in the process. A shiver rippled through you that had nothing to do with the temperature. He pretended not to notice, keeping his focus trained on the page as he scanned your scattered notations with a practiced editorial eye.

"I can see where you're getting tripped up on the hybridization models..." he mused, fingers unconsciously smoothing the rumpled pages with a delicate touch.

With that same deft cadence he used to break down complex manga narratives and storyboards, Akaashi began illuminating the organic chemistry topics that were giving you trouble. You quickly became absorbed in his low, authoritative explanations - leaning incrementally closer until your knees knocked together every time you shifted position.

Akaashi's mouth went dry whenever your raptured gaze lifted to his, those expressive eyes drinking in each new nuance he highlighted. He couldn't resist the temptation to reach out, large palms engulfing your smaller hands to guide them through the molecular diagram you were struggling with.

You seemed to shudder bodily at the contact, but didn't pull away. If anything, you gravitated infinitesimally nearer to his orbit until the earthy sandalwood scent of his cologne enveloped you completely.

For his part, Akaashi felt utterly transfixed dissecting the intricacies of organic chemistry with you. Long minutes blurred into hours, marked only by the occasional rasp of your pencil scratching out new understandings and quiet stretch of reaching for your rapidly cooling tea.

A heady sort of intimacy had descended over the hushed apartment - suspended in a gossamer pocket of time where only the two of you existed. Even when a shrill trill from your phone interrupted, shattering the weighted quiet, neither of you startled apart.

"Shit, it's Kou checking in..." you murmured vaguely, swiping to silence the incessant buzzing without sparing the screen a glance.

A tiny furrow appeared between Akaashi's brows, unable to fully mask the fleeting pang of disappointment. Of course Bokuto would want to catch up with his baby sister. He tamped down whatever misguided sentiments had begun flickering to life and refocused on the present lesson.

A new cadence emerged over the ensuing weeks - you and Akaashi settling into a ritual of late-night cram sessions in the living room after he returned from the office. What had begun as his kind offer of a studious assist gradually deepened into something richer, more intimate. Textbooks became the pretense, while conversations about Akaashi's editorial work for up-and-coming mangaka and your academic ambitions flowed more organically.

He savored those hushed interludes, coveting each fresh glimpse into your spirit and psyche that you shyly unveiled over mugs of bergamot tea and pages. You seemed to come alive at night, unfurling from your usual subdued daytime presence into an incandescent force as radiant as your legendary brother.

On nights when Bokuto himself burst into the apartment unannounced for a visit, his raucous presence felt strangely...diminishing. Like an intrusion upon the rarefied bubble of connection you and Akaashi had begun delicately cultivating, no matter how inadvertent.

"Hey hey hey!!!" The boisterous owl'd screech, sweeping his baby sister up in his signature crushing embrace much to her squealing protests. "There're my two favorite roomies!!"

For the span of those chaotic visits, you and Akaashi became spectators in your own apartment - observing from the periphery as Bokuto dominated the space with his overwhelming charm and delirious anecdotes. Invariably, you would share a look with Akaashi from across the room - shining with a sort of knowing affection and silent promise to reconvene your quieter interlude once the whirlwind subsided.

Bokuto remained blissfully oblivious to the undercurrent shifting between you, of course. But with each passing day, each fitful study session that bled into the wee hours, Akaashi felt himself falling deeper under the spell of your steady warmth and lighthearted presence.

The selfish part of him began hoarding those sacrosanct one-on-one moments, savoring the intimacy of being the one to share in your blossoming self-discoveries, your academic passions, all crowned by the coquettish smiles and sparkling glances you bestowed upon him alone.

He had become addicted to basking in the rosy glow of your affection on sleepy afternoons when you'd emerge from your bedroom after sleeping late, tousled hair haloing your face. Akaashi routinely lost his train of thought watching you shuffle around the apartment preparing tea and toast, rumpled and soft and utterly resplendent in his eyes.

It was during those tranquil respites between lessons that the reality of his deepening feelings became unavoidable, even to Akaashi's own practiced aloofness. You had worked your way under his skin, into his veins, until his every waking moment centered upon your orbit. With each night that blurred into dawning tenderness, he felt himself teetering perilously towards falling utterly, hopelessly in love.

The soft patter of rain against the windowpanes provided a soothing ambient soundtrack as you pored over your psychology textbook. Akaashi sat beside you on the couch, leg brushing yours as he leaned in to examine the passage you were struggling to grasp.

"So the key difference between the Psychoanalytic and Behaviorist models is..." His low, modulated timbre washed over you as he began breaking down the nuances.

You bit your lip, nodding along while trying to concentrate despite the incredible proximity of his body heat and intoxicating sandalwood cologne. Akaashi's attentive gaze flickered between you and the text, entirely focused on elucidating the intricate psychological concepts until comprehension finally sparked behind your eyes.

"Ohhh, I think I'm getting it now..." you murmured, scribbling a few shorthand notes in the margin. "The Psychoanalytic looks at the deeper underlying motivations like Freudian psyche stuff, whereas Behaviorist is all about external conditioning and reinforcement?"

Akaashi's lips curved into a pleased smile - warm approval crinkling the corners of his steel-grey eyes. "Exactly. You've got a keen understanding."

You basked in the subtle praise, preening slightly under his undivided attention. An unexpected crack of thunder punctuated the moment, making you jump. Akaashi steadied you with a light touch on your shoulder, fingers lingering perhaps a beat too long.

"Perhaps we should take a break?" he suggested, eyes crinkling fondly at your startled reaction. "My brain could use a reprieve from the academic intensity."

"Oh? Did you have something else in mind?" You arched a brow teasingly.

The longer you pursued your studies together during these late-night sessions, the more your dynamic had evolved beyond a simple student-mentor rapport. An undercurrent of flirtatious energy had begun simmering between you, acknowledged yet never overtly addressed.

Akaashi hummed, reaching over to snag the TV remote from the end table. "I happened to download a few of the films from that Ghibli retrospective you mentioned wanting to see..."

Your face lit up at the casual reminder of an offhand comment you'd made ages ago - pleasantly surprised that he had taken note.

"Seriously? God, you're the best study-buddy ever!" You immediately shifted onto the floor, cozying into the plush area rug as Akaashi cued up the first animated film.

He chuckled - a low rumbling rasp that did funny things to your equilibrium these days. "At the rate we're accruing all-nighters, calling me a 'study-buddy' is practically an insult to my scholarly dedication."

"Oh, I'm sorry - should I call you Keeeiii-jiiiii Sensei instead?" you quipped with a theatrical bat of your lashes.

His only response was an exaggerated roll of eyes as he settled in beside you, near enough for your shoulders to brush with each intake of breath. The movie flickered to life, casting the living room in bursts of jewel-toned light and shadow.

Though you tried valiantly to remain attentive and absorb the artistry of the acclaimed anime, you gradually became ensnared by heavy lidded drowsiness as the opening scenes played out. Something about the ambient patter of rain, the easy cadence of Akaashi's breathing beside you, it all lulled you into a deeply contented state far too cozy to resist.

At some point, you must have drifted off entirely because you startled back to awareness cradled in Akaashi's arms as he carried you down the hallway to your bedroom. You instinctively nuzzled against the solid plane of his chest, relishing the sandalwood cologne and clean linen scent enveloping you both.

Akaashi went very still for a suspended moment, the muscles in his arms tensing almost imperceptibly around you. His jaw worked briefly before he spoke in a hushed murmur pitched low enough not to disturb the night quiet.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to wake you," he rumbled, negotiating the last few steps into your bedroom with that same liquid grace he possessed. "You looked so peaceful, I wanted to get you somewhere more comfortable to sleep."

You peeled open one heavy-lidded eye, reflexively cataloging how the silvery moonlight gilded the elegant planes of his face, casting his stormy irises in softer grays. Even sleep-addled, you recognized the thrilling intimacy of being gathered against Akaashi's solidly muscular frame like a lover's embrace.

The staccato pounding of raindrops against the windows intensified into a deafening roar as the storm system raged outside. You shivered involuntarily, rubbing your hands along your arms despite being cocooned in one of Akaashi's worn university hoodies that smelled intoxicatingly of sandalwood and clove.

A massive crack of thunder boomed directly overhead, causing you to flinch violently. Unconsciously, you scooted infinitesimally closer to where Akaashi sat beside you on the floor - back against the couch as you pored over notes and textbooks strewn across the coffee table.

He paused, keen eyes flickering over to study your tense form briefly before returning his focus to the biochem flashcards you were meant to be reviewing. A few beats of weighted silence passed, punctuated only by the howling winds.

Then, with a blinding flash, every lamp and light fixture extinguished - plunging the apartment into absolute inky darkness.

You couldn't help the tiny whimper that scraped up your throat as you froze, pulse thundering wildly in your ears. From the void beside you came the rustle of movement, callused fingers tenderly circling your wrist.

"Hey...you're alright," Akaashi's deep timbre washed over you, resonant and reassuring even without being able to see his features. "Just a power outage from the storm. We have candles and battery lamps, don't worry."

You bobbed your head numbly, unconsciously leaning into the warmth and solidness of his presence beside you. Akaashi seemed to register the slight tremors rippling through you because he shifted nearer until your thighs were flush, cocooning you in his orbit.

"Give me a moment to find the emergency lights," he murmured, thick lashes brushing your knuckles fleetingly before he retreated.

You heaved a shuddering breath, internally willing your racing heart to slow. The pounding rain and occasional crackling bursts of thunder sounded more ominous in the yawning darkness, sending fresh prickles skittering down your spine.

Just when you felt on the precipice of panicking, Akaashi's low tenor carried over from behind the sectional.

"Got it."

Momentarily, a warm golden glow began emanating from the kitchen as he lit an array of utility candles and lanterns. He reappeared bearing several flickering flames and a fleece blanket tucked under his arm.

You shakily exhaled in profound relief at the sight of him - your safe harbor. Without preamble, Akaashi settled right beside you on the floor, draping the heavy fleece comforter over both of your laps before tucking you against his side.

"Better?" he murmured gently.

You could only nod, nuzzling deeper into the solid warmth of him while the flickering candle flames cast his striking features in dancing shadows and light. Akaashi maneuvered his long limbs until you were nestled into his embrace, his chin grazing the crown of your head.

Minutes ticked by, your thundering heartbeat gradually receding to a more sedate cadence in tandem with the rhythmic rise and fall of Akaashi's chest beneath your cheek. You allowed your eyes to drift shut, savoring the cocooning sanctuary of blankets, flickering candelabra, and his intoxicating spice-and-cedarwood cologne.

"This reminds me of being a kid and having sleepovers during thunderstorms," you mumbled groggily against his solid frame.

A rumbling chuckle reverberated beneath your palms where they rested over his heart.

"Is that so? I can't say I have many nostalgic memories of making pillow forts and telling ghost stories with friends."

You cracked open one eye to peer up at his striking silhouette, mouth tugging in a bemused smile. "No? I suppose actively seeking out haunted places for volleyball practice with Kou was more your style."

Akaashi snorted softly, letting the gentle teasing roll off him with fond exasperation. You drank in the way the muted candlelight played over the elegant slopes of his profile, heartbeat catching at the tenderness reflected in his storm-cloud irises. Quite abruptly, it struck you just how closely intertwined you were sprawled together.

Your nose was mere centimeters from grazing the stubbled hinge of his jaw as your gazes locked and held. A kaleidoscope of expressions flickered across Akaashi's face too quickly to decipher - tender longing, surprise, the quietest yearning. You felt simultaneously emboldened and paralyzed by the magnetism charging the scant breaths separating you.

His tongue swiped across his bottom lip instinctively and you were powerless to stop your own from mirroring the motion. That simple flick of movement brought your shared awareness crashing into riotous clarity.

"Y/N..." Akaashi's murmur vibrated over your swiftly warming skin like the rumble of oncoming thunder.

More words seemed to tether on the tip of his tongue, weighted and unspoken. Instead, he slowly inclined his face nearer - silently beseeching for permission with those piercing steel-grey irises. Your own eyes fluttered shut, tilting up to meet him halfway in quiet invitation.

The roar of the raging storm outside dimmed to a distant thrum as Akaashi closed the last hairsbreadth between your parted lips. His mouth slanted over yours in a slow, exploratory glide of searing heat. An electrical current jolted through you, catalyzing an invisible spark that ignited something molten and cataclysmic threatening to engulf you both in its fervor.

The gentle rasp of Akaashi's stubble feathering your cheek contrasted exquisitely with the velvet glide of his mouth moving in unhurried exploration across yours. You sank feverishly into the intimate glide, emboldened by his smoldering patience to tease the seam of his lips with a flick of your tongue.

He rewarded your ardor with a low rumbling exhale, immediately deepening the lush kiss and cradling your nape to tilt your head to a more devouring angle. The hand spanning your lower back scorched through the thin cotton barrier, urging you closer until you were sprawled fully across his powerful thighs.

A rush of trembling desire flooded your veins at the dominance of his hold, the tender way his other palm cradled your flushed cheek as if you were something precious to be cherished. You curled your fingers against the taut muscles sheathed by his t-shirt, absorbing the staggering heat radiating from him in waves.

Gradually, the leisurely sensuality of exchanging openmouthed kisses in the flickering candlelight evolved into something rawer, more heated. Akaashi's normally implacable control began shredding away as your tongue tangled with his in delirious cadence, exchanging breathy moans between slick slides of intimate friction.

His broad hands roamed in smoldering exploration - tracing the feminine dip of your waist, palming the flare of your hip in a commanding grip that sent your head spinning. When his calloused thumb traced the underside curve of your breast, you gasped into his mouth - entire body arching wantonly against the rigid line of his arousal.

The barest thread of sanity had you breaking away, reeling for oxygen in harsh pants against the glistening angle of Akaashi's jaw. His quicksilver gaze watched you through a lust-dazed haze, pulse fluttering wildly beneath his flushed skin where you cupped the column of his throat. Slowly, reverently, he turned to feather a trail of searing kisses along your quickening pulse point.

"Keiji..." you whimpered, fingers spasming against his chest when the velvet heat of his mouth found the juncture of your shoulder, teeth grazing tauntingly. "I can't...we should—ah!"

The needy whine sheared off as he sucked a blistering mark just below your clavicle, tongue flickering to soothe the hot sting of overstimulation. His knowing hum ricocheted straight to your molten core, heavy-lidded eyes lifting to pin you in place with fathomless yearning.

"We can stop whenever you wish," Akaashi rasped roughly against your damp skin, callused palms smoothing inescapable paths down your trembling body. "But I personally have no intention of going slowly after wanting this for so torturously long..."

You swallowed thickly, sanity careening precariously as his midnight timbre ghosted like sin over the swell of your breasts, lips mapping a scorching path lower with every inhalation. The last coherent thought filtering through ribboned into embers as Akaashi pressed you back onto the plush shag rug - moonlight and swaying candleflames framing his predatory form hovering above you.

"If I have my way, we won't be stopping until I've learned every exquisite sound you make," he whispered, nimble fingers already slipping beneath the hem of your borrowed hoodie. "Until you're utterly ruined for anyone else, only ever remembering how it feels to be loved by me."

A keening whimper rose unbidden in your throat, hips canting instinctively as his callused palms glided over the exposed expanse of your midriff. Akaashi's answering smirk was pure wickedness, the promise of a reckoning looming in his molten stare as his hands traveled further upwards.

"Let me show you how badly I've been craving you..." he murmured, palming your breasts in a kneading caress that left you gasping and arching wantonly. When his thumb grazed the pebbled peaks, you arched mindlessly into the delicious friction, eyes drifting shut with a low moan. Akaashi's rumbling chuckle rippled over your skin, then his scorching mouth was descending to follow his deft hands.

Your spine bowed when he took one nipple between his lips, rolling and tugging it until the pleasure was near-blinding. Akaashi's name tumbled from your lips in a fevered prayer, fingers scrabbling uselessly against his broad shoulders. His free hand grasped your hip in a firm hold, pinning you to the rug as his mouth continued its ruthless assault on the other pebbled bud.

You squirmed helplessly against the searing contact, panting for air as your blood boiled. All the while, Akaashi never faltered in his meticulous attentions - suckling and grazing his teeth until the ache coalesced into a desperate throbbing.

"Please..." you finally cried out, nails scoring his shirt with desperation.

Akaashi relented at last, raising his head with a wet pop to regard your wrecked state. His eyes flashed, mouth curving into a devastating smirk as he pressed a tender kiss to the center of your sternum.

"So pretty when you beg..."

Before you could even process his words, he was lowering his mouth between your trembling thighs - callused palms prying them wider apart. You keened at the first slick sweep of his tongue over your clothed core, fingers fisting desperately into the plush rug.

"F-fuck..."

The profanity spilled unbidden from your lips, incinerated by the white-hot sensation of Akaashi lapping greedily between your legs. His dark hair fell in silky disarray, obscuring his face where his nose nudged against your swollen bud. A growl rumbled up his throat as his tongue flattened against the soaked fabric.

"These need to go..." he mumbled, already reaching to slide your shorts and panties down your trembling legs. You barely had a moment to process his intent before his scorching mouth was descending upon the throbbing flesh, lapping and sucking until your entire body shuddered with need.

You writhed helplessly, head falling back onto the rug with a strangled cry. Akaashi's groan vibrated against your core, fingers digging into the backs of your thighs as he devoured you. His tongue swirled and plunged, driving you into a frenzy of pleasure so intense you felt your entire being shattering.

The world blurred and warped into a shimmering prism of sensation as he sucked mercilessly on your clit, the sharp scrape of his stubble against your inner thighs sending sparks ricocheting through your system. You keened, bucking helplessly against his merciless mouth.

"God, right there!"

Akaashi seemed to drink in the frenzied praise, doubling his efforts until your vision whitened at the edges. He growled possessively, nipping your swollen bud just as his fingers slid through the dripping mess to find your aching entrance.

One blunt digit plunged into your quivering core, then two. You were already clenching tightly around the welcome intrusion, riding the knife's edge of a bone-deep orgasm. Akaashi curled his fingers, seeking that elusive spot as his lips suctioned ruthlessly.

It only took a few expert strokes of his digits and the wicked swipe of his tongue before the world disintegrated. Your spine bowed violently, a scream tearing from your lungs as pleasure detonated along every nerve. Akaashi kept pumping, coaxing you through wave after wave of pulsing heat.

Gradually, you came back down to earth in a boneless puddle - heart racing and muscles trembling. Akaashi's dark hair was a complete wreck, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy as he watched you through thick lashes. The corner of his mouth lifted, lips glistening with the evidence of your pleasure.

"God, you're so fucking perfect," he murmured hoarsely, leaning down to drag a slow kiss across your trembling abdomen. You whimpered at the tender contact, fingers sliding into the silk of his locks.

When he pulled back, it was only to peel his shirt over his head - revealing the sculpted planes of his torso in all its glory. Akaashi's eyes flashed as he watched your appreciative stare drinking in the sight, his cock visibly twitching in his jeans.

He surged up to capture your lips in a dizzying kiss, tongue swirling against yours with a renewed fervor. You tasted the musk of yourself lingering on his mouth, the heady rush of sensation making you arch against his body.

Your hands roamed hungrily, mapping the dips and ridges of muscle along his back. When they drifted lower, he groaned low in his throat as you palmed the stiff line of his arousal through the denim. Akaashi's own hands were busy divesting you of your remaining clothing - shoving the hoodie up to expose the curves of your breasts again.

You squirmed, grinding against the rigid pressure as the tension rapidly spiraled towards unbearable. Akaashi's jaw tensed, a muscle feathering in his cheek as his nostrils flared. He broke the kiss to reach down and roughly free himself, hissing at the sensation.

Your lips parted on a silent gasp as you took in the sight of his cock. Even the first few inches jutting out above his fist looked painfully thick, a bead of precome welling at the tip.

Akaashi met your gaze, a flush staining his cheeks as you watched him stroke the swollen flesh. His stormy eyes were hooded, pupils blown wide and glimmering with restrained hunger.

"Is this what you want?" he rasped, voice fraying at the edges as his cockhead nudged the slick folds. You bit your lip, arching closer as he dragged his length along the slit - coating himself in your arousal. "You need to tell me if it's too much, okay?"

"Yes...please, Keiji..."

Your head fell back with a broken moan as he slid into your tight, fluttering entrance inch by inch. Akaashi's mouth fell open on a groan, hips stuttering when he finally bottomed out.

The delicious stretch of him filled you completely, every ridge and vein pulsing inside your walls. Your nails scored his back as you shifted restlessly, acclimating to the overwhelming sensation of fullness.

Akaashi exhaled shakily, nuzzling your neck as his palm skated down your stomach to find your throbbing clit. His hips began rocking gently, pulling out to the tip before sliding back into the welcoming clutch of your walls.

You clung to him, shuddering and moaning at the incredible friction. The air grew heavier, more charged with each deliberate glide - the wet sound of your coupling ringing obscenely. Akaashi's mouth was hot against your flushed skin, tongue sweeping out to taste the salt.

His hips gradually gained momentum, driving deeper until you were nearly delirious with pleasure. The room spun, every nerve singing. When he adjusted the angle to hit the sensitive spot deep inside, a breathless cry tore from your throat.

"God, right there, please don't stop!"

The command was punctuated with a roll of your own hips, seeking the delicious friction. Akaashi growled, teeth nipping your jaw as he drove into you harder - his thumb circling your clit faster.

Your second orgasm slammed into you with the force of a freight train. You screamed, eyes screwing shut as the blinding pleasure ricocheted through your veins. Your walls clamped around his shaft, milking him with a spasm.

With a guttural curse, Akaashi's hips stuttered and his cock pulsed violently. You felt the drag of him sliding out, then the hot splash of his cum coating your abdomen. Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his glassy, lust-addled stare.

He braced his weight on trembling arms, dipping his head to capture your lips in a deep, soul-stealing kiss. Your tongues tangled languidly, sharing breathless little gasps and moans. When he finally broke away, it was only to press a chaste kiss to the tip of your nose.

"You are so beautiful..."

His reverent murmur ghosted over your skin, making your chest clench. You carded your fingers through the silky locks, smoothing his hair back. Akaashi's eyelids drooped, savoring the contact before lifting them to reveal that same intense tenderness.

You could feel yourself getting lost in the stormy gray, drifting closer. His gaze was magnetic, drawing you in. Your breath hitched as he leaned in, pausing with his lips a hair's breadth from yours.

"Can we do that again?" he murmured, the ghost of a smirk playing about his mouth.

Your laughter pealed through the darkened room, bright and free. You felt lightheaded with elation, heart brimming.

"As often as you want," you promised, nipping playfully at his lower lip. "Although I hope there are some positions other than missionary..."

"I'll give you all my best ones," Akaashi rumbled, his expression turning positively sinful. "Over the couch, in the shower, bent over the kitchen table...every surface in this apartment..."

You hummed thoughtfully, running a teasing fingertip along the curve of his jaw. "What about the bed?"

His eyes sparkled, the corner of his mouth quirking. "Especially the bed."

You laughed, pulling him down for another kiss - the last rational thought to filter through ribboning into a whisper.

"It's a date, then."

The door rattled violently as a sudden pounding echoed through the apartment. You and Akaashi froze in naked surprise on the living room couch.

"BABY SIS! YOU IN THERE?! I'M SO SORRY I'M LATE!" Bokuto's frantic bellow reverberated down the hall, accompanied by more insistent knocking.

Your eyes widened in panic as Akaashi hurriedly grabbed a throw blanket, shielding your bare forms just as the front door burst open. Framed in the doorway stood Bokuto, drenched from head to toe and illuminated by the beam of a flashlight clutched in one hand.

"There you are! Are you okay?" His wild eyes swept the room before locking onto you huddled against Akaashi's equally undressed form on the sofa. "I knew how freaked out you get during big storms so I rushed over as soon as the--"

Bokuto's words sheared off abruptly as the realization visibly slammed into him. His owlish gaze bounced between you and Akaashi slack-jawed, the flashlight beam spinning dizzily. You shrank back, clutching the blanket modestly as a blistering blush consumed your face.

Akaashi, damn him, simply held Bokuto's shocked stare with infuriatingly placid nonchalance.

An eternity seemed to stretch in that crackling, awkward moment. Finally, Bokuto swallowed hard, adam's apple bobbing.

"I...I'll umm...I'll just..." He gestured vaguely over his shoulder before slowly pivoting on his heel.

Silently, with exaggerated care, Bokuto began shuffling backwards out of the apartment - gaze studiously averted and mouth still agape. When he reached the door he briefly met Akaashi's unflinching stare one last time before whirling around and bolting.

The door slammed with a rattling boom, leaving you and Akaashi alone once more amid the flickering candles in a weighty hush.

You chanced a sidelong glance at Akaashi, unable to bite back the somewhat hysterical giggle bubbling up.

"Well...I suppose there are worse ways for him to find out we're...you know..."

Akaashi merely hummed, mouth kicking up in a wry half-smile as he tugged you snugly against his chest once more.

"Indeed. Though I must admit, I've never seen Bokuto-san's typically energetic demeanor so effectively stunned into silence."

Laughing helplessly, you nuzzled into the sleep-warmed crook of his neck - delighting in the simple intimacy of being wrapped up with the man you adored after the mortifying interruption.

"Should we be expecting the shovel talk next time he comes barreling in?" you teased lightly.

"Undoubtedly," Akaashi rumbled, fingertips trailing patterns along the exposed expanse of your back that raised goosebumps. "Just another family bonding moment to look forward to."

You hummed contentedly, sinking deeper into his solid embrace as the rumbling storm outside at last began tapering off to distant echoes. A new dawn was cresting over the horizon, heralding uncharted beginnings filled with promise.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #haikyuu akaashi #hq akaashi #akaashi fluff #akaashi keji x reader #akaashi smut #akaashi x reader smut #akaashi keiji smut #akaashi keiji x reader smut

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konigsblog · 1 month

Note

jealous situationship könig plsplspls

jealous, situationship könig...

cw: forced impregnation, tampering with pregnancy. 🍼

DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT — MDNI 18+

although you're not in a committed relationship with könig, his jealousy skyrockets through the roof when you talk about a hookup you had the other day.

at first, könig is lost for words. in his mind, he believes you're still in an established relationship, forgetting that this isn't anything serious and that you've broken up from your past relationships. the pair of you aren't completely over each other, but sure as hell don't miss the toxicity of your past relationship. the remembrance and realisation that you don't belong to him leaves him bitter and callous towards you, his envy for that man blooming inside of his chest as he sucks in a sharp gaze and averts his gaze from you.

you have sex often, using hate fucking, or using the excuse that sex has never felt better when it's with you both, a pathetic attempt at justifying the reason you continue to see each other, the both of you knowing the truth, yet refusing to admit it.

sometimes you don't bother using any protection. the thought of you getting with another man leaves könig incredibly and ridiculously jealous, fearing you'll submit and commit to him instead. it's all he thinks about, plaguing his every thought. his attempts at finding love with other women are fruitless as all he wants is you, and to könig, there's only one solution to this problem.

forced impregnation. if you're not going to have babies with him, or stay loyal and committed him, then he'll force it upon you. you don't suspect a thing, allowing könig to use your pretty pussy as an outlet for his frustration and anger, the creamy tip of his slick cock rubbing against your cervix as he feels himself becoming hotter, breathless and insatiable, his orgasm inching closer with each thrust before he begins to shoot ropes of his potent semen inside of you, unbeknownst to you.

you're under the impression that you're having protected sex—that the likelihood of getting pregnant is low. oh, how könig craves your reaction to your sudden and unexpected pregnancy, perhaps then you'll realise that you belong with könig, that he will go to extreme measurements to have his way with the one he desires the most. :(

#orla speaks #tw: forced breeding #tw: forced impregnation #konig x you #konig x reader #könig x you #könig x reader #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #tw: dark content #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #konig modern warfare #könig modern warfare #könig mw2 #könig mwii #könig x y/n

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diorcities · 10 months

Text

lace teddy (ldh)

♡ pairing: haechan x reader. ♡ genre: fluff. ♡ content: parents au, established relationship, dad!hyuck, sleepy!hyuck. ♡ wc: 0,5 k an: once you enter this state you don't get to leave, huh? read second part.

you stir in your dreams as your senses stretch and intertwine in a spiral that lulls you into semi-unconsciousness before the icy touch on your arm pulls you out of the planet of dreams. because there he is, at the foot of your bed, watching you with sleepy eyes.

“mommy.” he whimpers in a whisper, pulling you out of your slumber almost immediately and shooting your body upright. “jisoo, sweetheart...” you murmur, gently removing the placid arm around your waist to take the child in your arms. he's freezing. an alarm goes off in your instinct and you panicked, thinking on repeat to protect him at all costs. “i dreamt bad things,” he confesses, rubbing his eyes as you bring him with you under the covers. “oh, baby...” you try to warm him up by stroking his back and hair. your lips leave a small kiss on the crown of his head. “don't worry, love.”

something shifts behind you as you lull jisoo to sleep. haechan's been dreaming a dream he no longer remembers because he's aware now. something's missing. without the warmth of your embrace he's getting cold, so between dreams, his hands seek for you in the dark. not awake, barely conscious, he mutters your name. is he having a dream about you?

reaching your body and drawing you to him as he gains consciousness, hearing your whispered voice saying something. completely lethargic, he nuzzles into your neck as he wakes up almost automatically; he hears you clearly now. “a monster!” the child whisper in a squeal. “oh my goodness, what makes it a monster?” he's barely awake, yet a smile flourishes on his lips the moment he hears your voices trying to stay quiet as you chuckle.

“he has tremendous teeth and it's hairy.” you patiently hear him explain. “did he harm you?” you wonder, feeling him shaking his head, “well, maybe his only crime is looking terrifying,” you observe. “maybe next time you can ask him if he's scared too.” your head lolls to one side just to see haechan peeking over your shoulder, with his cheek pressed on your skin and his eyes traveling to yours, something like love expands in your chest. “can you stay with jisoo while i check on donghyun?” you ask, watching him nodding as he lazily shakes off his dreams.

you get out of bed and walk down the hall to the half-open room. there is barely a faint light coming from the moon-shaped lamp in the outlet, which allows you to see the figure crouched in its crib. in the gloom, you approach donghyun and make sure he is okay. combing his little caramel curls out of his plump, tanned cheeks. two brown sleepy orbs blink at you. “mom... i was trying to fall asleep to fight jisoo's monster.” you stroke his hair, in awe. “were you?” you say in shock as a laugh escapes your lips. “i'm sorry, love.”

seeing that you are there, you make sure that he is well. “want to come with us?” you take him in your arms. “i'm sure you will, baby,” you assure him as he explains his scheme with slurred and sleepy words, remaking the way to your room. you're about to go inside, but suddenly stop halfway to record the intimate moment that unfolds inside the bedroom. unable to interrupt, you sharpen your ears as donghyun rests his head on your shoulder, dozing.

you barely hear your husband's melodic voice humming a song you vaguely remember hearing. savoring the name on the tip of your tongue, your heart bloom at the familiar lyrics. “the monster's gone, he's on the run. and your daddy's here...” you smile tenderly as your hand caresses donghyun's back, ultimately recognizing what he's singing.

he's there, with his eyes closed as he comforts jisoo into his arms. lyrics slipping from his lips full of love.

“beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. beautiful boy.”

#haechan imagines #haechan fluff #donghyuck fluff #haechan blurbs #haechan x reader #nct dream fluff #♡haechan

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amostnobleyandere · 8 months

Text

A Team Effort (Yandere! Diluc × GN! Reader) (Suggestive !!!)

*not quite nsfw, nothing happens except for a make-out session, but there is a huge implication at the end.

A/N: diluc and reader are both “nobles” bc I am eating these historical manwhas UP man. this is a little cringe but I needed an outlet

warning(s) 🚨: !!! yandere !!!, possessive behavior, non-consensual touching, non-consensual kissing,🚨 !!!! implied non-con at the end !!!!🚨, reader has a bad family but it’s not described in detail, kidnapping, forced marriage, obsessive behavior, betrayal, captivity, slight exhibitionism?? (Diluc is making out w reader and Kaeya’s just chilling there, watching)

*is suggestive but only bc diluc is getting friendly w reader’s neck and lips and leaving a bunch of hickies and the last line is !!VERY!! suggestive (it’s a tad bit steamy and very implicative), Kaeya is there too and he’s also *creepy* (they’re both morally questionable in this), Kaeya is in on Diluc’s yandere behavior, reader is an innocent bystander in all this bs, !!! Reader has a Shit Family (TM) !!!

summary: Feeling that the distance between your worlds was too wide, you never acted on the feelings you had for Diluc Ragnvindr. When Diluc proposes, you reject him. His brother decides to take matters into his own hands by delivering you to Diluc himself. Diluc doesn’t oppose the new arrangement, as long as you’re with him.

—————————

Soft lips trailed eagerly up your neck, across your collar bone, over any skin they could reach that had been previously covered by the light night shirt you wore. You felt an insane amount of heat seep through your skin at the contact. For hours your neck and lips had been receiving his attention; biting, bruising, worshipping to no end.

You tried not to squirm as his hands—his hot, hot hands—held you firmly in place; both of them settled on your hips, his unnatural warmth bleeding through the thin fabric and into your skin. Your back was pressed up against the headboard of the luxurious bed you had been sat upon. The man you were holding onto for dear life buried his head into the crook of your neck, using his tongue and teeth to suck and lick blooming marks into the sensitive skin. The deep scent of firewood, ink, and a strong cologne surrounded you, suffocating your senses and putting you into a delirious haze.

Your shirt had been tugged down and rested just above your chest. The man laying passionate kisses across your upper body had not dared to pull it any further. How gentlemanly he was, being considerate enough to allow you to cover up from his wandering eyes, and yet everything else he was doing was still highly inappropriate. He had pulled it down just enough to allow himself a taste, to run his fingers over the smooth expanse of skin that was once hidden to him by layers of clothing, and perhaps to make you look just the slightest bit debauched as his mouth marked anywhere it could reach.

—————————

You had been brought to the Ragnvindr Manor against your will. It was more like a quiet ambush than a kidnapping and, as you found out when it was was too late, it had been planned by your family without your knowledge.

It started when maids swiftly funneled into your room and started packing up your belongings; then those maids plus additional servants hurried you into an unfamiliar carriage, ushering you in. You found yourself sitting across from Kaeya Alberich, a man you had only exchanged a few polite words with in your entire life. He was grinning from ear to ear.

When you tried to open the door, it wouldn’t budge. Anxiety rose in your chest as Kaeya watched you struggle with a satisfied smile. That was when you had started to panic. No matter how much you insistently pressed the man for answers, he danced around your questions and was unmoved by the nervous waiver in your voice, saying that a surprise was waiting for you at the end of the carriage ride. He never spoke a sentence that gave you a clue as to where you were going.

You peeked out of the window after seeing the carriage pass through a large gate and were met with the impressive sight of Ragnvindr Manor. Kaeya, who had remained irritatingly calm for the entirety of the ride, languidly got up from his seat across from you and reached for the previously locked handle. You heard a click from the outside. He pushed down. With a sly smile, he turned to you and gestured to the now open door.

You couldn’t help the resentful glare that settled in your features at the borderline mocking gesture. After shooting him a dirty look, you hesitantly stepped out of the carriage. You jumped when you felt Kaeya’s hand settle on your lower back, who seemed amused by your startled reaction. He grinned down at you; that and his arm around your waist was anything but comforting, as the weight felt like it was trapping you, shackling you from running away.

You were ushered through the large, yawning doorway and led into the dim front hall. You stared in awe at the luxurious wood interior that was bathed in a warm glow from the candlelight reflecting, flickering off the high walls and shadowed ceiling. Your mind was momentarily distracted from the anxiety thrumming in your chest, with Kaeya’s hand still resting lightly on your back as he pushed you forward.

He led you through the initial archways and up the stairs, his pace annoyingly (and yet eerily) slow, which you were forced to match. He stopped in front of a door that blended in with the rest of the dark wood that was characteristic of the architecture. There was nothing special about it. It only made you more nervous.

“Well,” Kaeya finally spoke, voice smooth and suave as it always was. “This is it.”

As you processed that you had basically just let a stranger pull you into someone else’s house and isolate you from any form of safety, your frazzled feelings formed a heavy weight in your chest, a raging combination of panic and fear.

“What’s going on?” You asked. “Why am I here?”

His grip curved against the side of your waist and tightened, keen on not letting you bolt.

You were seconds away from running into the maze of hallways and hoping you could find your out when Kaeya gingerly knocked on the door. He shot you a glance, seemingly reading your thoughts as his other hand, the hand tensely holding your waist, idly played with the fabric underneath his fingers. His demeanor was infuriatingly casual as you stressed over every decision that could have possibly led you here. Despite his feckless expression, you felt that he understood the weight of what he was doing. He wasn’t oblivious to your fear or your anxiety, and there was a serious expression in his eyes that looked like determination. Whatever he brought you here for, he was planning to see it through, unmoving and stubborn.

You wondered what could make a man such as Kaeya, who had always seemed so removed from any conflict in society, so motivated. You wondered what role you had in him achieving his goal.

The door opened, revealing a very surprised Diluc, dressed down more than you had every seen him. His usual heavy outer coat had been removed, leaving him in a white undershirt and vest. Long crimson hair was thrown up in a high ponytail. The candlelight from inside the room reflected off of it, making a shining halo form around his head. From what you could tell, he was in the middle of getting ready for bed, with a few stray buttons undone at the top of his shirt. You felt your face heat up at the sight.

“Kaeya? What….”

His gaze first landed on his brother, sending him a confused look, before it landed on you and stayed, a wide eyed stare that told you he was not expecting your visit. You squirmed awkwardly under his stare, too bewildered by the situation to say a proper greeting. You pressed down the urge to cover your now burning face with a hand as you were pinned under both his and Kaeya’s full attention.

“Diluc,” Kaeya spoke, unbothered by the obvious tension in the air. He fully encircled his arm around your side, a happy smile forming on his face. He pulled you towards him. Stumbling gracelessly, you were pulled closer into Kaeya and the doorway where Diluc stood stiffly, still staring at you.

“An early birthday gift.”

….What? You felt a cold dread immediately begin to pool in your stomach, the words freezing and repeating in your head. You had been nervous before, but now your body was going into survival mode as fear took over. What the hell was he talking about?

Your mind ran at the implication. You were a person. Not an item to be passed around. Was this some kind of sick revenge for rejecting someone so much higher than you in status and power? Was your family in on it? Were you suppose to be some kind of offering for Diluc?

You nearly flinched when you heard Diluc make an affronted and angry noise in response, almost something like a growl, as he glared at his brother with burning red eyes.

After that, you found yourself sitting on a plush couch inside of what could only be Diluc’s chambers. Across the room, Diluc and Kaeya spoke in harsh whispers, sparing furtive glances towards you every few seconds. You pointedly tried not to look at the very large four post bed in the middle of the room, feeling much too awkward and uncomfortable in what was obviously the personal room of a man you were not married to. The taboos of society all began to rise to the forefront of your mind, and you realized how inappropriate this all was; if it got out, there would be a terrible scandal, and your family would drag you through the mud for dirtying the reputation of both theirs and the Ragnvindr names.

Your damp hands clamped down on the fabric of your clothes, clenching into tense fists as the only other people in the room left you to stew in your anxiety.

Suddenly, there was a shout.

You nearly jumped five feet into the air. You had to tense every muscle in your body to keep yourself from rising off the small couch, though you could not stop your head whipping around to the source of the noise. You heart rate, after finally calming down, sped up again as the dread in your stomach churned. You had a bad feeling that this odd situation was coming to its climax.

The sound had came from Diluc. In Kaeya’s hand was an outstretched piece of paper, too far away for you to make out whatever was written on it. Diluc swiftly took the sheet from Kaeya, scanning over it with wide eyes.

“We’re….?” Diluc breathed, suddenly looking at you with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, his lips parted in surprise.

“Officially.” Kaeya said, a laugh in his merry voice, clearly amused by Diluc’s reverent expression. The calvary captain titled his head towards you, his eyes barely glancing your way, signaling to Diluc to go over to you. Your chest tightened.

Diluc looked at Kaeya, then turned fully to face you, taking slow steps as if approaching a startled animal. He walked over to you, expression nervous, seeming almost shy as he came to stand in front of the couch you sat on. He looked down at you from above, not speaking. Opening his mouth, then closing it, he balled his fist onto his knees as lowered himself down to sit beside you.

He was close. Too close. To close to be normal, for two people who were in such an odd situation. You were paralyzed by dread and didn’t try to move away from the startling, sudden heat that came with Diluc sitting next to you.

He looked away from you, his head facing the ground in front of you, then turned his body to angle himself towards you. For a moment, he stared ahead, right past the edge of the sofa. He opened his mouth to speak and a breathy, light voice came out, so different from his usual deep timber.

“Your family….,” He started. Your heart stopped. “has agreed for us to be wed without a ceremony. My brother,” he shot Kaeya an accusing look, turning away for a second before returning his gaze to the ground at your feet, “has taken it upon himself to take care of the all the details and bring you here. I’m sure you weren’t aware of this, and this all must be very confusing, but we are now legally…..” He stopped on the last word, finally looking up into your eyes, his own burning with a passion so bright it scared you.

You could do nothing but stare in horror as he opened his mouth and tied you to him forever.

“Married.” Ah. There it was. His usual voice, deep and pleasant. He grabbed your clenched hand, gently but insistently pressing it open and laying his much larger palm flat atop your own before intertwining his fingers with yours. Your joined hands rested atop your knee, which is where Diluc’s gaze stayed, entranced by the point of contact between his skin and yours.

In any other situation, the action would’ve been incredibly romantic and sweet; a tender moment that would’ve set your weak heart aflame and stirred butterflies in your stomach. Your crush, holding your hand, looking at you with all the adoration in the world? It sounded like a dream. Yet, this was possibly the worst situation you had ever found yourself in; dragged to the house of someone you barely knew and finding them infatuated with you. Knowing that you’d been given to them like a wrapped gift.

He had confirmed all your fears. You knew that your family had gone behind your back and lied to you, betrayed you, despite how much you had insisted that you not be engaged to Diluc. It would be too painful when he eventually, inevitably broke it off to marry someone else. Your romantic feelings for him were only the beginnings of a fervent admiration. Still, you knew it would come to nothing, and that your feelings could not change the nature of the world. The two of you lived in different worlds, different circles, and he had better marriage prospects from people that could give him more than you ever could: power, wealth, and all the things that you would always have to look at but never be able to touch.

The emotions you were seeing in his eyes when he stared into yours could never be described as a shallow admiration. No, now you wish you had discouraged being engaged to him for a different reason; his feelings went far beyond the bounds of admiration. They burned in his eyes; they burned you with their intensity.

You had seen a side of Diluc today that scared you. You knew your simple crush couldn’t hold a candle to his raging inferno, something wild and uncontrollable. It would consume you. You now knew that he would consume you, if you allowed him to.

It must’ve shown on your face. The confusion, the bewilderment, one of the many emotions you were feeling must’ve seeped into your expression.

Diluc began to attempt to comfort you. His hand slipped onto your face, shocking you out of your raging thoughts and back to the present as his eyes scanned over you. He looked like he was savoring touching you, perhaps happy to finally have you in his arms, under his hands, after so much longing. (How much longing? How long did his feelings go unnoticed by you?)

“You need not worry, dearest. I’ll take care of you and treat you well. I’ll be a proper husband to you and more, I swear it. You have my word.” A man once nervous and flustered was now scarily serious as he spoke, maintaining eye contact as his binding words promised you a lifetime by his side.

Diluc leaned into you, his hand still pressed to your face as he glanced down at your lips, his own parting. You saw his tongue dart out to wet them, too distracted by the movement to see that his gaze now rested on only your lips.

“I will try each and every day to make you love me as much as I love you.” He spoke softly.

You gasped as Diluc pressed his lips against yours much more harshly than you were expecting him to, and he chased after you as you leaned back into the couch.

—————————

As shocking as it was to find out, you couldn’t do much to ignore Diluc’s now obvious feelings for you. With his words, he ruthlessly broke down every mental barrier you had put up to convince yourself this was all just a bad dream. He loved you, he told you. He was going to protect you, he vowed. He was going to give you everything your heart could ever desire.

The words were meant to bring you comfort, and you had never felt more terrified in your life.

You could feel his hands wandering over your body, curiously mapping out every dip and crevice like they had been waiting for the chance to touch you. Diluc curved his body over yours, hovering above you, not quite on top, not quite upright, just crowding into your space as if he could only breathe the air near you. You winced as you felt his teeth latch onto your lower lip and pull, a soft groan escaping from his chest as he took in the sight of you; you could only imagine what you looked like right now, and the thought that Diluc was looking at you, admiring you like this, made your face burn and your body tremble. Unwillingly, a fire lit in your stomach.

And then, a raspy and low laugh brought you out of your thoughts.

"Looks like their mind is wandering, 'Luc."

Your eyes immediately flew to the owner of the voice, who was standing against the doorway with his arms crossed, an amused smirk painted on his lips. He was watching Diluc fervently push his lips to your neck, face, lips, with the same affection and bemusement one would have after getting pushed into the snow by a sibling. His look of ease, and slight surprise, betrayed no discomfort toward the sight in front of him.

You distantly thought that these two brothers had a lot more love for each other than what they let on.

After all, Kaeya was the one who had paved the path to you being in Diluc’s ever tightening embrace. Kaeya was the one who brought you here and practically threw you into Diluc's arms. From what you could guess, and from what you knew about Kaeya, he had most likely learned of Diluc’s puppy love and had seen no problem with pulling a few strings to help his brother along with his “courting.”

Never mind the fact that you had already said no; you had rejected Diluc months before. The proposal had came as a big surprise, especially when Diluc requested a private audience and asked for your hand in person. And still, you rejected him. At the time, you thought that if he wasn’t already engaged to someone other than you, someone who met his status, he would be soon, and you weren’t going to risk being the fiancé of a man who belonged to someone else; you were protecting yourself from the inevitable heartbreak that would come with letting Diluc court you. And what were you meant to do when he was forced, or worse, willingly began to court someone else? Pine after him from the sidelines, hopelessly adoring and praying he’ll come back? The thought was comical. Laughable.

Kaeya, however, clearly didn’t seem to think so.

If you knew that Kaeya had been plotting to serve you to Diluc on a silver platter, he would’ve dragged you here kicking and screaming. And if you could get past what a conniving and manipulative bastard he was, you would think it was sweet and endearing that he would do so much for his estranged brother, if only to make him happy. Even if it was at your expense.

And to make matters worse, it had been incredibly easy for him to trap you under his palm; you had pieced together how he managed to pull it off fairly quickly.

When Kaeya had visited your family’s estate under the guise of delivering a marriage proposal on behalf of the Ragnvindr household, your family had signed you over without a second thought. Even if they had taken the time to think about the fact that Diluc and Kaeya were rumored to never talk or even exchange pleasantries with one another, that they constantly acted like they were strangers, that it was incredibly odd that Kaeya, of all the people Diluc could have asked, would be delivering the news, it was still too much to ask for them to bat an eye at the proposal.

You weren’t naive; your family wasn’t keen to hang on to you. The only reason you hadn’t been married off already was because of how strongly you had batted your eyes and schemed your way out of wedlock. But now? They wouldn’t dare reject Diluc’s proposal after they found out about it, even if they had noticed every glaring red flag that came along with it. Any suspicion they may have felt was swiftly overcome by Kaeya’s relentless charm and the naturally powerful influence of the Ragnvindr name.

You were doomed the moment Diluc proposed.

You were doomed the moment Kaeya found out you had rejected his brother.

You had practically been held captive inside the manor since you had arrived a few hours ago, and Diluc didn’t seem keen on letting you out of his sight.

Kaeya, who had walked close enough to relax against the post at the end of the bed, leaned towards you and smiled.

"Oh, don’t give me that look. I wasn’t originally planning on taking you here,” he smiled at you like he was sharing a joke, the corner of his eye crinkling with mirth. “I only found out just recently about Diluc’s little infatuation with you. And here I always thought my dear brother would end up with someone like Jean. You were quite the surprise, you know?”

You resisted the urge to throw the nearest object at his handsome face after that comment.

That was who Diluc was meant to be engaged to right now, if the rumors of their long awaited marriage finally being planned held any truth to them. It would be a good marriage; a classic case of childhood friends to lovers, and their personalities fit well together, their friendship naturally wholesome. And most importantly, Jean held one of the most influential positions anyone could have; she was above many and bowed to few. Her status matched Diluc’s; her mere existence made the chance of your betrothal to the young Ragnvindr heir practically nonexistent. It was a key contributing factor in you giving up on confessing your feelings for Diluc.

You had assumed that he had Jean and could never reciprocate what you felt for him. How wrong you were.

A hysterical laugh bubbled up into your throat, one that you pressed back into your chest before it could escape. Kaeya wasn't that far off the mark; Diluc was practically destined to be with Jean. If you were a little bit more romantic, you would even call them star-crossed lovers.

So why were you here now, helplessly holding on to the back of the man’s waist coat while he suckled and bruised your neck to no end?

You gasped as Diluc seemed to get a little bolder at the sound of his brother’s voice, feeling his teeth nip harshly against your skin as he finally pulled away. You could see that his lips were kiss-swollen from his efforts, full and pink, something that unfairly added to his already devastating good looks, which were only enhanced by the glow of the candlelight. He angled his face away from you to look at his brother, something akin to jealously swirling in his eyes.

“Kaeya,” he warned, a growl in his voice. Kaeya chuckled and shook his head before holding his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave the two lovebirds alone.”

He shot you one last wink before he sauntered towards the door, opening it before pausing with his hand on the handle. You watched him lean back to make eye contact with the red haired man on top of you, a smirk spreading across his lips:

“Oh, and Diluc?” He cooed.

“Be gentle.”

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