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liliacamethyst · 11 months

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Webs of Fate - Miguel O'Hara (Part II)

Sequel to Web of Secrets

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 5.2K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut, time jumps, not really comic accurate (canon events), semi public piv, 18+

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

You are all back at the Spider-Verse Headquarters and the atmosphere is tense. Everyone is still high on adrenaline from the mission. You’re nursing a deep gash on your arm but your spirit is far from broken.

Miguel, however, seems to be on the verge of an explosion.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT OUT THERE SPIDER SUN?” he bursts out, his voice echoing through the HQ.

You're taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“That reckless behavior! You could have been killed!” he roars. “Why didn’t you retreat when you were injured?!”

“Because there were lives at stake! I can handle myself, Miguel!” you shout back.

“You think this is a game?! You think being part of this team is just for kicks?” Miguel’s face is red, his voice strained.

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare question my dedication!” you yell, your own anger now matching his.

The team is watching, shifting uncomfortably. Gwen looks at Jess, who shakes her head. The room is thick with tension.

Alright, if you are being honest with yourself, your recent actions in the field could definitely be classified as reckless. Perhaps even bordering on idiotic - not that you’d ever confess that in front of Miguel. You didn’t know where your mind went. Wait, no, scratch that. You knew precisely where your thoughts were, every mission since you discovered your pregnancy has been like this; your spider senses dulled, focus scattered to the wind, and reflexes that would’ve made a sloth proud.

And then there was this mission – your first one in quite a while alongside Miguel. He was bound to notice.

So you were fighting an Electro variant from an alternate universe, alongside Jess, Gwen, Ben and Miguel. The electric villain was throwing bolts of energy left and right and everyone was giving their all. You noticed a civilian trapped under some debris. You made a beeline for them, not thinking about anything else.

As you lifted the debris, an energy bolt flew straight for you. Usually, your Spider-Senses would have alerted you but not today. It hit you square in the back and sent you flying.

You hit a wall but ignored the pain as you scrambled back to your feet. A sharp ache spread across your arm but you gritted your teeth and kept fighting.

Miguel yelled, “What the hell are you doing?! Fall back!”

But you didn’t, you kept pushing forward.

He landed next to you, his eyes filled with anger and something else, maybe a hint of worry. He grabbed your waist to pull you back. But as another energy bolt was coming your way, you shoved him out of the path, taking the hit for the second time. So yeah, you could say that this mission wasn't exactly the shining star in your superhero career.

“ESTÚPIDA! So damn stupid. I won’t fucking watch someone throw their life away recklessly!” Miguel was now yelling loudly in oyur face for everyone in the HQ to hear.

“Oh, please. What’s it to you? Since when do you care, Miguel?!” you shout back, finally having enough of his insufferable attitude. “All this time, you’ve treated me like I’m dispensable. Like I don't matter! Well, guess what? I can fight, I can make decisions, and I don’t need you to approve them!”

“Don’t!” Miguel's voice cracks, and for a brief second, there’s a look of hurt on his face that surprises you. But his rage quickly replaces it. “I cannot do this anymore with you, ¿me entiendes?” he yells.

The room falls silent. Everyone’s gazes dart between you and Miguel. You can feel Gwen’s worried eyes on you, and Ben Riley. looks like he wants to intervene, but this moment is too charged.

You take a deep breath, tears welling up. “I can't do this anymore either,” you whisper.

“What?” Miguel's voice is barely audible.

“I can't keep fighting for a team where I’m not respected or trusted. Where you treat me constantly like a liability, like I am worth nothing to you,” you say, your voice steadier now.

“You don’t know what you are saying,” Miguel says, his tone slightly softening.

You turn around, your eyes welling up once again and open a portal to your universe. “I do, I quit” you say, your voice breaking.

You reach into your pocket and pull out your transdimensional gizmo, the small device that every Spider-person uses to travel across the multiverse. It's an intricate piece of technology, a blend of science and magic that fits in the palm of your hand.

You toss the device on the table in front of Miguel. It skids across the surface before coming to a stop right in front of him. He looks from the gizmo to you, his expression unreadable.

"Take it. We don’t need it anymore." You say defiantly, meeting his gaze.

Everyone knows the implication of you returning the gizmo. Without it, you're effectively stranded in your universe, unable to return to the society. This isn't a decision made lightly, it's a point of no return.

As you step through the portal, you glance back one last time. You see Miguel’s face, contorted in pain, but he doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak and he doesn't stop you.

Your heart is breaking, but you can’t stay here. Not when it’s this painful.

You turn away and head toward the portal room, with one hand lightly grazing your tummy. Gwen calls your name, but you don’t stop.

In the dim light of the room, the world seems to fade away as you lie there with Miguel on top of you. You are under him, breathless, your fingers running through his hair. His body pins you down in a tender, electrifying way, and you can feel the rhythm of his heart beating against yours.

His fangs graze the curve of your neck lightly, eliciting a shiver that runs through you. In response, he nuzzles into you, his breath warm against your skin.

"Ever think about what we're doing?" he asks in a whisper that vibrates against your neck.

"Constantly," you respond, your fingers tracing the curve of his broad shoulders, "but I don’t regret it, not a moment.”

He lifts his head, his red orbs searching yours. “Neither do I,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. His hand reaches up to trace the contour of your face.

"You know," you whisper, your hands continuing caressing his back, "I always wondered what it was like in your universe, in your time."

He shifts a little, propping himself up on one elbow as he looks down at you. His eyes, usually as unreadable, now seem to crack open; emotions swirl within them like stars.

"It was great, you know," his voice is gentle, each word enveloping you. "No, more than that – it was perfect," he corrects himself. His eyes never leave yours as he continues, "I had my Gabriella. Ah, you would have adored her." His voice softens to a mere whisper as if speaking her name too loudly might shatter the memory. "She was this incredible burst of life just like you. My own little sunshine. I didn’t know my heart could hold so much until she came into my life."

"The way she would throw her head back and laugh, it was like music. Her tiny hands – so soft and gentle. I remember how one of them always found mine, and the world felt... right." He continued, "I was never alone, never empty." He swallows hard, as if trying to keep the flood of emotions from washing over him.

You cup his cheek gently, smiling up at him. "You don't have to be alone, you know?"

He lets out a dry chuckle. “Sometimes it feels like there's no other option. It’s my fate."

“What scares you the most, Miguel?” you suddenly ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitates. “To lose myself… to forget what it means to care for someone,” he finally confesses.

“You won’t,” you assure him, your thumb stroking his cheek. “Not if you don’t let yourself.”

“¿y tú?” His voice is husky. “What’s your biggest fear?”

“To be forgotten,” you whisper.

He lowers himself and presses his forehead against yours. “Imposible,” he breathes. “You’re the sun. No one forgets the sun.” He pulls you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer until the world outside disappears.

Suddenly, his wrist console beeps, yanking him back to the present. "O’Hara, are you okay?" Lyla's voice echoes in the room, breaking the silence. He blinks, his gaze focusing on the holographic screen displaying the mission details in front of him. "Yeah, Lyla," he responds, his voice a bit hoarse. "Just remembered something," he murmurs, and refocuses on the screen before him.

Amidst the sea of codes and numbers, Miguel finds himself struggling to focus. His thoughts still are consumed by you, and a heavy realization crashes down upon him like a tidal wave - he’s lost you forever.

He always knew that this was how it was meant to be. This was the only logical conclusion, the inevitable outcome that he had tried so hard to deny. He was aware of the potential repercussions, the cosmic imbalance that could be brought about by your intertwining fates.

Lyla had warned him multiple times, cautioned him against letting you close. But how could he have possibly resisted you? You, who shone brighter than the sun, who captured the hearts of everyone around with your aura and your kind soul. Your beauty was unparalleled, and your laughter had the power to fill a room, casting away shadows. He was a moth drawn to your flame, hopelessly captivated from the very first day he met you.

But you were never meant to be his story, not the path his life was meant to tread. You belonged to another world, another universe.

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Lyla breaks the silence with her smooth, computerized voice. “No,” he interrupts her sharply, his voice a little too forceful.

But Lyla isn't easily deterred. "You know it was dangerous from the beginning, Miguel," Lyla continues. "Engaging with her like that...it could have caused irreparable damage to the multiverse."

"I know," he replies curtly.

Unyielding, Lyla continues, "This was never supposed to be a canon event. Her universe is not meant to mix with yours. It's fortunate that she left when she did. The damage could've been—"

“I KNOW!” Miguel suddenly erupts, his voice thundering through the room. He screams, his frustration boiling over, "¡Ya lo sé, Lyla! ¡Basta ya!" ("I already know, Lyla! Enough already!") With a loud grunt, he sweeps his arm across his desk, sending his keyboard, mug, and various other items crashing to the ground.

There is a deafening silence as Miguel breathes heavily, his chest heaving. His eyes are wide, his face is flushed and his fangs are bared. He never loses control, not like this.

Lyla, for once, remains silent.

3 months later…

Back in Nea Yorkey, Earth 586 , you are perched on the rooftop, absentmindedly rubbing your stomach. Time has passed since you left Nueva York and Miguel, but your feelings for him are still a tangled mess. Damn these pesky pregnancy hormones.

For once, it’s pretty calm out there. No honking horns in traffic jams or the usual buzz of people everywhere. It’s like the city hit the pause button and honestly, it’s kind of nice. The streetlights are like tiny fairy lights all over, and the tall buildings around you feel like they’re keeping you company.

The cool breeze brushes against your face, and you can't help but be lost in your thoughts. Thoughts of him. The relentless flood of emotions is almost too much to handle.

The flashback hits you hard, placing you right back in Miguel's office late one evening. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your backside planted firmly on his desk amidst strewn cables and metallic pieces and half-empty coffee mugs.

"Miguel, someone will catch us," you had warned, your breath hitching as he nipped at your skin, his hands deftly moving to undo your skintight suit. His hair was a little longer then, the ends tickling your forehead as he kissed you.

He had just chuckled, the sound deep and throaty, making your heart flutter. "They know better than to disturb me," he'd responded confidently, his lips trailing fiery kisses along your jawline.

Usually, Miguel was cautious about showing any sign of affection when others might be around, even if 'around' meant anywhere in the sprawling headquarters of the Spider Society. Yet, that night, he seemed to throw caution to the wind.

In his enclosed office, late into the evening, he let his guard down - a rarity. His lips were insistent against your skin, his touch setting you alight. You remember how the soft glow of the desk lamp had caught in his eyes, making them appear even more mesmerizing.

As he was holding your ass up steady and pounding into you, in a pace and fervor you never experienced before, you hear his communicator ring vibrating. You instinctively attempt to pull away, assuming he would answer the call, but he holds you tighter, his lips never leaving your skin.

His free hand pulls up a holographic screen,which flickered to life above the desk, revealing a slightly pixelated image of Jess. You panic for a moment, worried that she might see you in this intimate moment with Miguel, but he just shook his head slightly, reassuring you that she can't. He must have filtered the video feed on his end.

“Yes, Jess?” Miguel’s voice was steady, but his breath ghosted your neck in short spurts. He continued with his action, his thrusts a little slower but deep, nevertheless. You clamp your teeth down onto Miguel's shoulder in a desperate attempt to stifle the moans escaping your throat, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. You can barely contain yourself. Miguel's soft, amused chuckle vibrate through you as he wraps his arms around you protectively. Asshole.

“We’ve got an anomaly on Earth-4067, seems like a temporal rift,” Jess's voice came through the hologram.

“Have you tried the Q-particle stabilizer?” Miguel asks, his voice so casual it's almost disarming. His eyes meet yours, a playful glint in them.

“Yeah, but it didn’t work. The rift is actually growing,” Jess responds, the worry in her voice increasing. “What do you think we should do?”

“Alright, I want you to reconfigure the dimensional frequency to match the rift. Then patch the satellite feed through the Alchemax algorithm, reverse the temporal frequency by 4.7 hertz and use the resonance pulse to stabilize the rift,” Miguel articulates with authority as he continues to pick up his pace. You’re close to the edge, with the euphoria threatening to make you cry out. The sheer pleasure is now tinged with a faint edge of pain, and a wave of panic crashes over you. The thought of Jess possibly hearing you is nerve-wracking, and you’re now fighting to suppress your screams.

Your breathing becomes erratic as you whisper in a hoarse, needy voice, “Miguel, ‘m close."

"I know, mami. Come for me," he whispers back, his voice filled with a playful mischief that seems to defy the gravity of the situation. His hot breath against your ear sends shivers down your spine and the wave of pleasure crushes down on you.

“Miguel, are you sure about this? I mean, if something goes wrong…” Jess hesitates.

“I’m sure, Jess.” Thrust. “Do.” Another hard thrust. “it.” Miguel’s voice turns forceful.

“Okay, I trust you. But... are you alright? You sound kinda breathless,” Jess's suspicion returns.

“Oh, just...uh...running some diagnostics. It’s a bit stuffy in here,” Miguel replies with a smirk on his face, his fingers now gently brushing against your bare heated skin.

The rooftop is silent again, and you're still rubbing your belly, where the life you and Miguel created is growing. A bittersweet tear rolls down your cheek as you wish, not for the first time, that things could have been different.

You don’t know how long you are sitting there, taking in the city scene. But it was getting dark, when a familiar figure swings onto the rooftop. It's Gwen, carrying a small package in her hand. “Gwen? What brings you to Nea Yorkey?”

She walks up to you with a soft smile, "Do I need a reason to visit my favourite Spider-Ma? I've got something for you."

You raise an eyebrow as she hands you the package. As you unwrap it, you find a tiny Spider-Man hat, similar to the one Mayday usually wears. And to your surprise, there’s a tiny anarchy pin, attached to it.

"From the group," she says softly. She adds, pointing at the pin, "This bit here, that’s from Hobie." Of course it is.

You’re moved to tears as you hug the hat close. It's a simple gift, yet it means so much. You feel a lump in your throat, and Gwen steps forward, wrapping you in a warm, comforting hug.

"I...I miss all of you so much," you manage to whisper, your voice choked with emotion.

"We miss you too," Gwen replies, her voice equally soft.

You pull back, wiping your eyes. Gwen tries to lighten the mood, "So, any guesses on the gender? I bet it’s a boy."

You shrug, a small smile tugging at your lips, "I don't care what it's going to be. I just want them to be healthy."

Gwen grins, "Just remember, if it is a boy and he turns out to be a handful, you owe me a soda."

You both sit on the edge of the rooftop in a comfortable silence, legs swinging over the city, the conversation turns more serious.

"So," you venture, "how are things back at the Spider Society?"

Gwen’s expression turns contemplative. "It's been... strange since you left," she admits.

"Strange how?" you prod.

"Well, you know how Miguel was always a little on the, uh, grumpy side?" she says, making a grimace.

"You mean being a brooding fortress of doom and gloom?" you quip, and Gwen chuckles.

"Yeah, that. Well, he's gotten worse since you left. Like, way worse," Gwen's face turns somber as she continues. "He’s even more closed off than before. His temper’s shorter, he barely communicates, and he's been pushing everyone away. Miguel’s basically got everyone on lockdown. No unauthorized visits between universes. There’s this... I don’t know... this cloud hanging over him, you know?”

Your heart tightens as you take in her words. You had no idea that your departure had such an impact on him, or anyone for that matter.

“He doesn’t talk about it, but I think he misses you,” Gwen adds, looking directly into your eyes.

You are torn. Part of you wants to be angry at Miguel for how things went down, but another part aches for him.

Gwen nudges you. "Maybe he needs his sunshine back," she says with a gentle smile.

You sit in silence for a moment, the weight of Gwen’s words sinking in. “Don’t be silly. I was never his sunshine.”

4 months later…

Beneath the pale glow of hospital lights, pain and joy mingle in the delivery room. The grip you have on the sheets gets tighter as you push to usher your baby into the world. Your hair is sticking to your forehead, your breath comes in heaving gasps, exhaustion painting dark circles under your eyes.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, a portal flickers to life outside your window, and Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie emerge.

“Make way! The party has arrived!” Peter B. exclaims loudly.

“I don’t believe in parties.” Hobie says as he struts in, clad in his Spider suit with a leather jacket over it, pins and patches proudly displayed.

Gwen knocks at your door. The midwife, busy with you in the labor, answers.

“Uh, who are you?” the midwife asks, slightly agitated.

“We’re friends of hers,” Peter gestures towards you, “is it a good time?”

You hear their voices, but you cant muster up a response all you can do is scream and push.

“Blimey, I didn’t think it’d be like somethin’ outta Alien! You alright there, love?” Hobie’s eyes go wide, as he enters the room.

You can't help but laugh through the pain, "Oh, just peachy, thanks for asking."

Gwen steps forward, immediately grabbing your hand, her voice soothing, “Hey, you’re doing great. Is there anything we can do?”

“You could get Hobie out of here,” you jest, rolling your eyes, but your smile betrays your appreciation. Another loud scream follows.

“You got this, luv!” Hobie shouts. “Just imagine the bloody contractions as guitar riffs! You’re about to release the raddest album in history!”

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you hear the cries of your newborn baby.

“Congratulations, it's a boy!” the nurse announces, handing the baby to to you.

You can’t help but laugh. Gwen steps closer to the bed and takes a peek at the baby. Her eyes light up. “Told you, it’s a boy. He’s absolutely beautiful,” she whispers.

Hobie chimes in. “Alright, let’s get a proper look at the little bloke!” He leans in, and his face softens. "Oh, look at 'im!" Hobie exclaims in his thick British accent, peering at him. "Little blighter's a spitting image of 'is mum, ain't he?” No. You see it then, the dark eyes with a hint of red glow echo the intensity of his father's gaze, the dark chocolate hair and the sun kissed complexion. He looked undeniably just like Miguel. You cant help yourself but fall immediately in love with your and Miguel’s little boy.

As they prepare to leave, Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie each take turns holding Gabriel and whispering well-wishes to him.

“I can’t thank you guys enough for being here,” you say, wiping away a tear.

Peter’s mask is off and he’s beaming. "We couldn't miss this for the multiverse!"

Gwen follows suit, "Yeah! Plus, Hobie wouldn't let us hear the end of it if we didn’t."

“We’re family,” Peter says firmly. “Across universes and timelines. We’re always here for each other.”

With that, the trio put on their masks and with another whoosh, they're gone.

1 year later...

One year has passed like a whirlwind. You've established a balance in your life. By day, you are a doting mother, and your world revolves around a little ball of energy named Gabriel. His laugh is the music that fuels your day, and his tiny hands holding yours make everything seem alright.

At night, though, you become someone else. Clad in a white suit adorned with golden sun patterns, you swing through the skyscrapers of Nea Yorkey as the Sun Spider. Your heart swells with pride, knowing that you’re keeping the streets and your little boy safe.

Your neighbor, Melissa, sometimes babysits Gabriel. She is a cheerful, quirky 19-year-old neighbor who dreams of becoming an Instagram influencer. You trust her (her career choice not so much) and, most importantly, Gabriel adores her.

Up until today, you believed that he hadn't inherited any powers. However, today was the first time he climbed up a wall and spun a web, without the aid of a web-slinger. It was the first time you witnessed him display such powers, and naturally, you were impressed. However, you also realized that being a mom would now involve dealing with a whole new set of challenges and responsibilities, making everyday life more exhausting than before. But you are up for the challenge;

Meanwhile, in the Spider Society’s HQ in Nueva York, Lyla’s holographic screen blinks red as she detects an anomaly in Earth 586 - your universe. She reports it to Miguel, who is still his grumpy self, seemingly even more irritable with each day passing.

“There’s a presence in Earth 586 that does not belong,” Lyla reports in her emotionless tone.

Miguel, sitting at his desk, sighs deeply. “Assemble the team. Pavitr, Lego Spider-Man, and... let’s bring in the newbie, Miles.”

Minutes later, the trio is briefed about the anomaly – a two-year-old child. They are to extract the child and bring it back.

Back in your universe, you're facing off against a notorious villain – The Shocker, who is on a rampage downtown. His high-frequency shock waves shake the very foundations of the buildings around you.

“Not tonight, Shocker,” you quip as you dodge a blast. “I’ve got a bedtime story to read!”

You're agile and sharp, but you can’t wait to get back home to Gabriel.

In your apartment, Melissa is on the couch, engrossed in her phone. She doesn't notice Pavitr slyly slipping into Gabriel's room. He can’t help but feel conflicted, seeing the innocent child asleep.

“This is the target?” Pavitr speaks in a hushed tone into his communicator. His voice is laced with doubt.

“Yes, proceed,” responds Miguel firmly.

Pavitr gently picks up Gabriel, cradling him in his arms. “Sorry, little guy,” he whispers and slips out.

Outside, they gather near the portal. Miles, who is visibly excited to be on his first mission, can sense the tension among the group.

“That was… too easy,” Pavitr murmurs, still holding the sleeping child.

Through the swirling portal, they make their way back to Nueva York.

Meanwhile, you web up The Shocker and leave him hanging for the police.

Back in the Spider Society's HQ in Nueva York, the team stands in a specialized containment room with the toddler still peacefully sleeping nestled in a makeshift bed of spider-web, completely oblivious to the attention he's attracting. One by one, members of the Spider Society trickle into the room, drawn by curiosity and concern.

Miles, who is new to the Spider Society, looks at the child with confusion. "I don't get it, what's so dangerous about a kid?" he asks.

Pavitr looks conflicted, “We have to determine where he came from and why he is considered an anomaly.”

Lego Spider-Man remains silent, trying to analyze the situation. He finally speaks up. "We should be cautious. Just because it's a child doesn't mean it's not potentially hazardous to the multiverse."

Miguel enters the room, his face cold and emotionless. He glances at the sleeping child, then at his team. “It doesn’t matter what it is. Anomalies threaten the balance of the multiverse. Every anomaly has to be returned to its home universe. That’s the rule.” he says sternly.

"But he's not an anomaly, boss," Jess adds, gazing fondly at the child. "He's a little boy."

Miguel’s gaze is unwavering, ignoring Jess. “Lyla? Whats the status?”

Lyla's holographic form flickers into the room. "This entity possesses unknown powers," she declares, her voice ringing out with clinical detachment. "And according to my scans, it doesn't belong to any known universe. Therefore, it cannot be returned. It must be... eliminated."

Miles' eyes widen. “Wait, you mean…?” he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

Pavitr steps forward, his fists clenched. “We can’t just... There must be another way.”

Back in your universe, you swing closer to your apartment, but your spider-sense starts are tingling with a ferocity you’ve never experienced before. Your heart races, and you quicken your pace. Bursting through the window, you find Melissa still sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone.

"Where is he? Where’s Gabriel?!" you shout, panic straining your voice.

Melissa's eyes go wide as she looks up from her phone. "What? He's in his room, sleeping," she says, but her voice falters when she sees the terror on your face.

You rush into Gabriel's room and find the crib empty. Your knees buckle, and a guttural scream escapes your lips. The room spins as you run back to the living room, grabbing Melissa by the shoulders.

"Did anyone come in? Did you see anything?!" you practically scream at her.

“I... I didn’t see anyone. I swear!” Melissa's voice shakes.

Your heart feels like it's tearing apart. You look around the room, desperate for any clue. You need to find your son, and something deep within you tells you that the Spider Society is where you need to go. You have to find a way to travel through the multiverse without a gizmo and the time is ticking. You have to find your son.

Back in the HQ in the midst of the tension-filled room, Gwen stands up, "Miguel, you can't be serious," she pleads, disbelief resonating in her voice. "We can't just... kill a baby.”

Miguel's eyes narrow. "Sometimes tough decisions have to be made for the greater good.”

Just then, little Gabriel wakes up. His big eyes wander curiously around the room, and he starts to make happy babbling sounds. Unfazed by his surroundings, he looks at each of the Spider-People with fascination.

As Peter B. is about to reach down to pick Gabriel up, the toddler crawls quickly over to Miguel. His little face lights up with the purest of smiles and he reaches his tiny arms towards Miguel as if trying to give him a hug.

The room seems to collectively hold its breath. Even Miguel seems taken aback.

Pavitr can't help it, “He seems to have taken a liking to you, boss.”

Gwen smiles, her eyes watering up. “See? Even this innocent soul can sense there’s still good in you.”

Tiny fingers grip at the fabric of Miguel's suit, baby Gabriel coos and giggles as he clambers up the towering figure. Planting tiny baby kisses on any part of Miguel he can reach, the toddler's joyous laughter rings in the silent room. "Vete, Vete." Miguel mutters. And despite Miguel's cold exterior, Gabriel is unphased, drawn to him as though an invisible bond exists between them.

Miguel looks frustrated and uncomfortable with the baby's affection. He awkwardly picks Gabriel up at arm’s length. But the little one is relentless, trying to cuddle into Miguel’s chest.

Annoyed, Miguel places Gabriel into a containment field made of energy beams, to keep him in place. The baby, though restrained, is still reaching out to Miguel with his tiny hands, cooing.

The room goes quiet again, and Gwen speaks, her voice soft.

“Look at him, Miguel. Please. You can’t tell me that this doesn’t affect you in any way.”

Miguel's face is tense, his jaw clenched. His eyes dart between Gwen and Gabriel. All eyes are directed towards Miguel. The room feels like it’s waiting for something to shatter.

“We do what needs to be done, no exceptions.”

Part III "Web of Shadow and Light"

a/n: Honestly, I can't begin to express how much your support and kind messages mean to me. I literally started crying when I saw how much love this story received. It means the world to me. Truly, thank you. I'd love to hear your thoughts, and if someone could give me a heads-up on whether the tag list functioned properly, that would be great. Also, apologies for any inconsistencies or logical errors regarding the multiverse or canon theory. I watched the movie but I'm not 100% sure of that's how it works.

Once again, I really do appreciate each and everyone of you. Please, don’t forget to take good care of yourselves and stay hydrated! ILYSM

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jaylaxies · 9 months

Text

RULE NUMBER 1: DON'T FALL IN LOVE

PAIRING: jake × fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, fake dating, fluff, slight angst, unprotected sex, drunk sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, penetration, usage of nicknames, themes of jealousy, mentions of sunghoon, heeseung, jay and mark, mentions of karina and yunjin, Imk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT: 16.2k words

SYNOPSIS: your ex getting a girlfriend after just two weeks of breakup was enough to infuriate you to the point where you had to step up and make him regret breaking your heart. solution? fake date his best friend and make him jealous!

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, my loves <3 anonnie requested for me to make a jake version of my jeno fic and the poll voted in support so here we are! (both fics are mine) i hope you guys enjoy it! all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33

Drink and forget.

That was your plan for the night, and what’s a better way to achieve it than attending a party with your friends?

“Woah! Girl, slow down,” Yunjin scolded you, taking the shot glass out of your hand, “it’s been half an hour, Y/n. If you take another shot then you’re going back to the dorm.”

You groaned, “you know why I’m doing this Yun. I should’ve listened to you and Rina.”

Heeseung almost whined, “what’s the point anymore? You didn’t listen to them and still fell for him instead of me which resulted in him breaking your heart.”

That earned him a smack on his head by Ningning, who now turned to you with a smile to lighten up your mood, “it’s been two weeks already, babe! Let’s forget about him and dance—” she said, her last word trailed off as she stared at the party entrance, the same time the music got loud.

“I can’t believe he left so easily,” you whispered to yourself, gulping down your sentiments before paying attention to where your friends were staring, turning around to look at the entrance gate.

There he was, the reason why you had been cooped up in your room, crying your heart out. The reason why you were drinking to numb your feelings, yet it all went downhill the second your eyes fell on him.

Park Sunghoon.

His walk was confident, his sculpted face looked more charming than ever as he sported his ever so appealing smirk looking indifferent to what had happened between you both.

Topping it all, he had a girl clinging on to his arm, giggling as she pulled his arm to be pressed between her tits. She was clad in a mini dress which barely hid her ass and your friends couldn’t help but glance back at you with a nervous expression on their faces.

Your face, however, remained stoic as you exhibited no sign of emotions despite feeling the anger burning up inside you, your fist clenching as you saw them walk towards your group.

You couldn’t believe how Sunghoon was the same guy who used to give you shy smiles whenever your groups used to sit together as he was a close friend of Mark and Heeseung.

Your friends had warned you, they did, but you were so blinded by his innocent face and pure smile which held secret promises of sincerity and a hope of something more. You took your time to notice that he cared for you, even waiting outside your classes with a bouquet at times.

He had you swooning, ignoring the warnings and signs you should have seen coming. His sweet talk lured you right into his trap, and you found yourself saying yes to him in a heartbeat, marking the onset of your honeymoon phase. It was dreamy, to the point even your friends were convinced he had changed his ways and finally decided to settle down.

Yet, deep inside you could feel your gut telling you that it won’t last, and he proved it just right when he forgot your one month anniversary, when he forgot the flavour of your favourite ice cream, when he didn’t bother calling you or taking you out on dates.

When he admitted that he was bored and wanted out.

It lasted for two months before he decided to break up, leaving you standing by yourself in your dorm, tears cascading down your face before your roommates heard a broken cry leave your mouth. Yunjin and Karina never left your side after that.

Others tried to talk some sense into Sunghoon but it was as useful as a chocolate teapot.

The hope of him regretting his decision went downhill when you saw him with this new girl, barely two weeks after your break up, the corner of his lips turned up into his usual smirk as he stood in front of you all, getting no smile or greetings yet he wasn’t one to mind.

It was a rare sight to see his best friend frowning, nonetheless a frown of disappointment settled on Jake’s lips.

Despite the loud music and the array of sweaty bodies dancing all over the room, you could feel the deafening silence in the circle of your group until a small whine came out of Sunghoon’s new girl toy, who pouted and whispered something in his ear, giving you the opportunity to look at Yunjin, who looked equally disgusted at the exchange.

The girl must have asked him to introduce her because he nodded with his usual smile, turning around to face everyone as he spoke up, “hey guys! Meet my new girlfriend.” He motioned at her to speak up.

Her fake giggle made you want to throw up, and you noticed how you weren’t the only one who felt this way as Heeseung excused himself from the conversation, rolling his eyes, which made you smile.

That didn’t stop her, “hi guys!” She exclaimed, dragging out the hi, “I’m Linda.”

A series of snorts and coughed up laughs emerged as she proceeded to introduce herself, which included you who tried your best not to laugh at her oblivious state, completely disregarding the fact that she was not welcomed here.

No matter how heartbroken you were, feeling like a fool as Sunghoon’s eyes took your outfit in wasn’t something you’d allow to happen. You didn’t bother excusing yourself as you left the circle, Yunjin following you in a beat as you just missed the whine Linda let out at your disrespectful actions.

“The fucking audacity?” Yunjin was furious, your inner turmoil matching her expression, “I can’t believe he’s got the nerve to bring that bimbo here.”

You wasted no time in gulping down your fourth shot, no one bothered to stop you this time, knowing well you needed it as you tried to keep your tears at bay, it was too late to say you regretted saying yes to the player.

Your body felt hot as your mind clouded into a hazier state, the confidence overpowered your painful state, your legs taking you to your friends who knew you were drunk beyond your capacity as you danced with them, rolling your body and letting yourself free.

Yet the one thing that never left your mind was revenge.

You wanted revenge.

The booming voice of your alarm clock was successful in contributing to your raging headache as you opened your eyes with a deep groan, feeling disoriented and your hangover building up.

“Fuck—” you muttered, shutting up your alarm.

You were surprised to notice the medicines and a bottle of water that was kept on your nightstand, and you didn’t waste a second before gulping it down to help your headache as well as your parched throat.

Being grateful that it was a Sunday, you slumped back down, trying to recall the night but the only memory that stayed in your head was the one of Linda squishing Sunghoon’s arm on her boobs. Your jaw clenched at how easily he moved on.

Just then, Karina entered the room with a small smile. She was the only one who looked normal as she wasn’t present at the party yesterday.

“Oh! I was just coming to wake you up. We’re all going out for brunch since no one is in their right mind to cook,” she informed you with an amused look, noticing how you were still wearing your dress from last night.

A shower was exactly what you needed at the given point as you tried your best to get ready in fifteen minutes, your mind filled with ideas to take revenge, no matter how childish it sounded. But how? Well, searching the net didn’t help much. You weren’t going to post a bad picture of him in the name of revenge.

It also wouldn’t work because it was impossible for him to have a bad picture, much to your dismay.

You sighed, linking your arms with Yunjin and Karina as you got out of the car which the latter drove as you walked inside your usual diner to see everyone sitting together after aligning the tables.

Heeseung pulled you to sit with him, he barely had his eyes open as Mark went on telling everyone how Heeseung got pissed drunk last night and made out with his knee while crying.

The scene was easy to imagine which made you all burst into laughter at the poor boy who could only whine, “your knee tastes like mustard!”

The laughter died down when you felt a repeat of yesterday happening yet again. It was a friends only brunch, but apparently, Sunghoon’s Linda didn’t get the memo.

You could see his best friend trailing behind him yet again and you wondered how Jake handled Sunghoon despite his actions, which now made everyone uncomfortable to some extent.

“Should I punch that asshole?” Heeseung asked, whispering in your ear and you sighed for the tenth time today, shaking your head as you completely ignored the two people and focused on eating and chatting with the ones who made you feel better, however, you could feel Sunghoon’s eyes staring at you.

You just wanted to go back, already tired of the couple who couldn’t keep their public display of affection at bay. Now you were sure it wasn’t just the hangover that made you wanna puke.

“I think I just lost my appetite,” you commented, causing the guy in front of you to snigger.

You looked up for the first time to see Jake sitting opposite to you, sending you a smile once he saw you looking his way, which you returned easily.

He usually kept to himself and he wasn’t the talkative one in the group. You had only talked to him while greeting him whenever your groups met, and once when Sunghoon got drunk beyond control at a party and so you had to call Jake to pick him up. Your interactions were limited to him because of one person.

Your smile dropped the second you heard that annoying giggle again, Jake only looked your way with a small frown after as you averted your gaze back to your lap, gulping down your anger.

The sound of a message notification from your phone grabbed your attention, and you opened it to find your group chat being active.

Uni haters 🤬👊🏼 (minus Sunghoon) mOrk: uhh yo guys this is awkward 😬 heedungie: can’t believe i lost my title of annoying king to sunghoon’s gf??? 🤬 ningx2: she’s not even a guy yunjinnie: but she’s annoying ningx2: can’t argue w that 🤪 rinaa: let’s just eat and leave as soon as we can, the air is suffocating me 🤕 you: too late i can’t eat anymore 🤡 jay: im leaving i can’t w this bullshit, she didn’t even wear her wig properly mOrk: holy shit? she’s got a wig on?!?! 😨 You laughed as you noticed Jay calling the waiter for the bill, which you all split as soon as you could and made your way out of the suffocating place, leaving the two in there as Jake too, decided to leave early.

The drive back home was barely five minutes long, which soothed your nerves as you sang along to old songs Yunjin played on the speakers.

They could notice how you looked exhausted, but it was more than that, they knew you had something in your mind and it was related to none other than your ex.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Yunjin asked once you entered your shared dorm room.

“What do you mean? I’m perfectly fine!” You tried laughing but it came out fake, causing Karina to raise her brows.

“Spill. Right now,” she ordered, making you sit in between them as you clicked your tongue in annoyance, which wasn’t directed to them.

“Fine. I want revenge,” you confessed, “he looks so happy and unbothered as if nothing happened? How can he say hi to me as if it’s the most casual thing in this world after he broke up with me saying he got bored? Ugh I hate his guts!” You ranted.

“So, do you have any plans for that?” Yunjin asked.

“Not really,” you muttered, “safari really recommended me to flirt with other guys in front of him,” you laughed, picking at the pillow cover of your couch.

Yunjin refrained herself from snorting, “would he be jealous of a random guy though?”

Karina laughed along, “yeah it’s not like you can date his best friend to make him jealous?”

Your eyes widened, your head turning slowly as your lips curled into a devilish grin, immediately causing your friends to exchange nervous glances and speak up.

“Don’t fucking tell me you’re considering this,” Karina blinked, incredulous.

“Listen—” you started, only to be cut off midway.

“No way,” a breathy laugh left Yunjin as she tried to contain her words and make you understand without any cussing.

“It’s not a bad idea, okay?” You tried to convince her.

“So what? Are you gonna seduce Jake?” She asked.

You laughed which sounded more like a pfft, “of course not, silly! We’ll fake date each other!” You said, face shining as if you had presented the greatest idea known to mankind.

“Be so for real right now,” Karina deadpanned.

“Lord, Y/n think straight. This is real life, you’re not in a cheesy rom-com movie or a book,” Yunjin provided her input.

“I know! But I just have to make him jealous for what? A month before he gets bored of that Linda girlie, and maybe Jake would agree to it too!” You nodded at the possibilities.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Yunjin rubbed her eyes, “me either,” Karina said as they both looked at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher.

Your smile only got wider, “this is the best way to make it work!” You announced before looking at Karina sheepishly, “please send me Jake’s number Rina,” you said in a sweet voice, knowing she was the social butterfly of the university before you waved a goodbye at them, walking into your room, formulating a plan alongside.

“This is gonna be a disaster, right?” Karina asked Yunjin, sighing.

“Oh definitely, it’ll be a show.”

You walked in your room, contemplating if it would be alright to discuss this on text or if you should meet up with him, the latter option was more plausible yet scary because what if Jake laughed at you? What if he didn’t agree to work with you for the sake of his friendship.

With such a stupefied idea, the possibilities were endless. Besides, you weren’t gonna ask for a lot, just a little hand holding, maybe hugging but nothing beyond that. You have to play pretend and smile a lot around each other. That would sell your drama and that would make Sunghoon jealous and realize that he lost a gem.

You waited and thought about it for a few days before finally giving in.

You took a deep breath, giving yourself a last nod of encouragement before you picked up your phone, saving the number Karina had forwarded you and clicking on his profile before sending a text.

To: Jake🐾 You: heyy jake! 🥰 it’s Y/n, can we meet up? You wondered if that emoji was too much, but you did not get enough time to ponder upon it as Jake texted you back in a minute. Jake🐾: Hey, Y/n :) sure, is everything okay? You: yess! i just need to talk to you about something :3 Jake🐾: How about Starbucks at 5? You: perfect, i’ll be there ^^ Jake🐾: See you <3

Your mouth widened at the heart at the end of the text, before you brushed it off, thinking that he sent it by mistake, or to seem kind. You kept your phone on the nightstand, standing in front of your closet to select an outfit for your meeting.

The plan was made, you just had to discuss it with Jake but you had never talked to him before, maybe that is why your heartbeat rose up. He was a good looking guy, there’s no denying that and you’ve heard that he was one of the smart ones too.

You bit your lip as you straightened out your top, rethinking your life decisions. There was no backing out now. You looked in the mirror again, satisfied with your outfit and makeup. You knew you looked stunning as you grabbed your phone and bag before driving Karina’s car to your desired destination.

The place was almost empty except for a few people who sat and worked on their laptops. It was easy to spot Jake, his dark hair shone under the dim lights of the cafe, he pushed his specs up for it to rest on his perfectly pointy nose, his lips parted ever so slightly as he focused on reading a book which you had never heard the name of.

His aura looked calming, which boosted your confidence as you made your way towards the table he was sitting at. It was near the window, at the end of the cafe, which gave you enough privacy. Somehow the seating choice felt very Jake to you.

Clearing your throat, you mustered up your courage, smiling slightly. “Hey, Jake!” You spoke, looking him in the eye.

That was enough to capture his attention, he looked up at you with a smile that reached his eyes.

He looked adorable.

“Y/n! Hey, come sit please,” he said, gesturing at the seat on the opposite side of him.

His eyes were soft as they looked at you sitting down, noticing a strand of hair which you tucked behind your ear, finally looking up at him, trying to find the right words to start the conversation.

“Isn’t it weird how we’ve never talked before?” You chuckled, causing him to nod with a small laugh.

“That’s true. How can I help you today?” He asked, keeping the book aside, carefully placing a bookmark before doing so.

You kept your confident smile on, “I needed your help with this hypothesis I have,” you nodded as you explained it to him, and he was sure that the meet up was for academic purposes now, “so I need to take a little survey. Can you answer some questions for me?” You asked.

He nodded as you took out a notepad and pen from the bag you were carrying.

“Sure, I’d be glad to help,” he smiled, eyes turning into soft crescents, which you stopped to stare for a second too long before realizing that he was waiting for your questions.

You snapped out of your daze as you started scribbling on your notepad, “your full name?”

“Don’t you know it?” He asked, confused.

“Shh just answer, it’s the official protocol.” You huffed.

“Sim Jaeyun.”

“Gender?”

“Seriously—”

“Just say it!”

“Okay, fine. Male.”

“What’s your age?”

“I’m 20.”

“Introvert, extrovert or ambivert?”

“Introverted.”

“Marital status?”

“What?”

“Single? Okay. So on a scale of one to ten, how willing are you to help me get back at your best friend by being my fake boyfriend?” You asked, your smile never faltering.

Jake blinked once. Then twice. “You lost me on that one,” he spoke up.

His eyes displayed a mixture of shock and amusement, and maybe it was your figment of imagination that you saw him snigger but you weren’t the one to give up.

Your lips jutted out in a pout, eyes shiny as you looked up at him, “c’mon! You won't let a girl beg for a little help, right? Especially when she was hurt so very deeply by the said ex, right?”

Jake looked at you, your pout only deepening in the hopes of him accepting your idea. He only leaned on his arm, coming closer with an enthralled smile.

“So what you’re suggesting here is that I fake date you to get back at my best friend for hurting you?” He confirmed and you nodded enthusiastically, “how’s it going to work?”

“Easy! Sunghoon isn’t the one who gets affected by a lot of things but if I date his best friend, that’s you, then he would get jealous and would regret breaking up with me,” you explained, “then I won’t take him back,” you announced, a triumphant smile on your face.

Jake nodded, as if contemplating whether the offer was worth it, “what do I get out of it?” He asks.

“A fake and pretty girlfriend of course,” you smiled, “and a chance to teach your best friend some manners,” you shrugged as if it was a win-win situation.

Jake’s expression didn’t give out what he was thinking and you were patiently looking at him for some sort of answer, hopefully a positive one.

“Do I have time to think?” He asks.

“I would give you some but then I’m an anxious being,” you stated which elicited a laugh out of him as he never expected that coming out of you.

But he had seen it all, the way Sunghoon behaved with you. He forgot all important dates, gave priority to his parties and the friend group which was potentially harmful for him, not to mention that his reason for breaking up was worse than the worst excuse, saying he got bored, only to find a girl two weeks later. Jake truly hated Linda as she accidentally broke his favourite vase while she made out with Sunghoon in their shared apartment.

“Fine. How are we going to go about this?” Jake sighed, giving in finally as he saw your face practically lighting up with excitement.

“Wait! Does this mean you’re in?” You asked just to be sure.

“I don’t think I have any other option,” he teases but you don’t mind, you were simply enjoying the feeling of victory already, “so, now what?” He asks, finally realizing what he had gotten himself into.

Fake dating.

“Now, we’re going to set some ground rules, which of course, we’ll write down and sign as a contract,” you say, getting a page out of your notepad.

“Like that one movie by Jenny Han?” He raised his brows.

You stopped to think for a second, “yeah but it’s not like we’ll fall in love or something,” you shrugged with a laugh and he nodded.

Y/n and Jake’s rules of fake dating! <3

Don’t fall in love

Hand holding is okay

Drive to the uni together

Nicknames are a must!

Kissing is not allowed!!

Don’t tell anyone except for Yunjin and Karina

Break up once the goal is reached.

Goal: make Sunghoon regret breaking up!! (Additional: get rid of Linda)

Signatures

You passed the sheet to Jake, “anything you’d like to change?” You asked as he read it all, and you noticed his brows slightly scrunching as he did so, exactly how they were scrunched when he was reading his book earlier.

“I’m assuming you told your friends already,” he pointed out rule number six, to which you nodded sheepishly.

“No kissing?” He asked, “you know no one’s gonna buy it if we don’t kiss, right? But of course, if you’re not comfortable then it’s fine.”

You bit your lower lip, wondering if you should consider it since he was right. Kissing is the easiest way to show affection, “I think you’re right, we’ll do it only when it’s required,” you said, and he nodded.

You wondered how he was so calm with all of this, and you liked that he was asking questions about it all.

“What’s with the nicknames?” He read rule number four.

“Sunghoon is big on nicknames, I bet he calls you some too. He used to call me princess,” you sighed, remembering how it used to be. It hurt but the current hatred overtook that feeling.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he whispered.

Your eyes widened at his deep, accented tone, but he only smiled, “just practising,” he said and you nodded, gulping down.

“Okay, so is the list done?” You inquired.

“Yeah, I just have to add one thing,” he said, scribbling down another rule while you asked him random questions.

“Have you ever dated before?”

He shook his head, “you’re my first,” he winked, and you wondered how he was so good at flirting.

“So—” you were going to ask another question but it seems like he knew what it was.

“I know I’m silent but it doesn’t mean I’m inexperienced,” he stated, and you were amused as it was the first time he saw him being this way, “besides, this deal of ours would benefit me by driving the girls away.”

“Right,” you snickered, looking at what he had written, “why PDA?” you asked.

“Because that’s the key to irritate Hoon, especially with Linda around who sees no other seat but Hoon’s lap,” he explained as your face scrunched at the image.

“You really are smart,” you muttered, signing the contract before handing it to him, who was quick to sign it too before you extended your hand.

His big hand encased yours in a handshake and you couldn’t help, but notice how his fingers were slender, veins visible on his hands as his grip was firm on your hand.

You had sealed the deal.

Y/n and Jake’s rules of fake dating! <3

Don’t fall in love

Hand holding is okay

Drive to the uni together

Nicknames are a must!

Kissing is not allowed!!

Don’t tell anyone except for Yunjin and Karina

Break up once the goal is reached.

PDA whenever the target is around!

Goal: make Sunghoon regret breaking up!! (Additional: get rid of Linda)

Y/n Jake

Signatures

“Listen, I know plans don’t work at times, there’s no reason to be sad over it—wait why are you smiling? There’s no way—” Yunjin asked as soon as you entered your dorm after your meeting with Jake.

“He agreed,” you squealed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Jake? The scholar guy who’s silent for the majority of the time, the guy who’s never had a girlfriend before, he agreed to fake date you?” Karina’s mouth was hung open and you only nodded excitedly.

They both looked at each other before nodding, “now, you need a day out. We’re talking waxing, getting your hair done, and preferably your nails too since you’ve had that colour for too long and new clothes—” they made a list as they successfully dragged you out for all of it the next day, saying it’s a little something they’d want to contribute to your fake dating strategy.

You didn’t mind a bit of it, being pampered was something you loved and it was long due as you had devoted all your time to crying after your breakup.

It was when Monday rolled by when it finally settled in. You were going to pretend to date Jake Sim, in front of everyone. Your friends gave you last minute pep talks and you were more than glad that they had decided to help you dress up too. Just then your phone rang with a notification.

Jake🐾: Morning, sunshine <3 Ready to sell our show? You: good morning!! i'm more than ready! are you tho? 👀 Jake🐾: I’m already waiting for you outside, love ;)

You almost choked on the water you were drinking as you remembered the rules.

You had to go to the university with him.

“Bye guys! He’s here,” you said to your roommates, getting up and grabbing your bag as you made your way out in a hurry.

Jake was standing by his car as he lived in the apartments and not the dorms, which was ten minutes away from your university campus. As for your dorms, they were a solid five minutes walk from your room.

He looked up from your phone as he heard you walking closer to him, “hey,” he smiled.

“So punctual, you’re right on time,” you said, “seems like you’re excited.”

He chuckled, opening the passenger seat door for you, “I can’t say I’m not excited to see other’s reactions,” he admitted as you sat down inside, thanking him softly.

Sunghoon had never once opened the door for you.

He got in the car, focusing on the road, “what’s the goal for today, princess?” He asked in his deep tone.

You blamed your overly sensitive skin for the tingling you felt due to his voice, also sitting to notice how his face looked like a sculpture.

“Soft launching our relationship,” you answered, clicking his picture.

“In the cafeteria, during lunch then?”

“Exactly! You just have to sit next to me and smile, that’ll be enough for Heeseung to suspect something,” you explained the basic plan just in time as you reached the university parking lot.

“Why? Do I never smile?” He asked, getting his seatbelt off.

“You do, but only to our group. Others are limited to a neutral expression only,” you pointed out as if you had analysed him fully.

“Wait,” he stopped you from opening the car door, getting out and opening it for you with a tiny smile.

Well that worked since people were nosy enough to notice a girl coming out of Jake’s car, which is a scene that never occurs.

He politely offered you his hand as he helped you stand up. His hand was warm juxtaposing your cold ones, as he pulled you towards him, your shoulder pressed against his chest, which you could feel was chiselled, he definitely had pecks.

“Smile, princess,” he whispered, and you overcame your state of hyper focus on him before putting on your best smile.

“What are we doing?” You asked, your smile never faltering.

Jake was somehow really good at looking at you with fondness in his eyes, he’d be a nice theatre guy if he takes up acting someday.

“Dropping my girlfriend to her class, of course,” he said smoothly, and you started walking, hand in hand.

“You’re pretty good at this. Are you sure it’s your first time?” You teased, noticing others staring at your hands.

“Why? Do you think I’m a good boyfriend?” He asked back and you were truly amazed to see him retorting to your questions, given that you had barely seen him talk before.

He felt your hand slipping and quickly intertwined your fingers. The gesture made sure to send a shiver down your spine.

Sunghoon never held your hand while walking.

“We’re just getting started, we’ll see how it goes,” you suggested, causing him to nod and continue the conversation you had left off.

“So what you were saying back in the car is that people perceive me as someone who’s mean?” He tilted his head in question.

“Of course not! They perceive you as someone who’s unapproachable.” You say seriously, you both stopped walking as you had reached the class.

He blinked at you once. You blinked back.

And you both burst out into soft laughter before he ruffled your hair slightly, bending down to your level, “study well, princess.” He winked, walking away to attend his own lecture.

You tried your best to focus on the lecture as you jotted down the notes alongside, however the feeling of thrill kept your leg bouncing the entire time, your mind working out possible scenarios with everyone’s reactions.

Soon, the classes were over and it was the time for your lunch break, which also meant that it was the time for you and Jake to act in front of everyone else.

“We’ll cheer for you,” Karina said and you could only laugh at her expression. She still couldn’t believe that you were going through with this.

From the entrance of the big cafeteria, you could easily spot the table where everyone had already assembled.

“Ready?” A deep voice whispered in your ear, successfully causing you to jump back.

But Jake was quick to grab your waist and pull you closer before you could trip, his eyes equally widened as yours, “god! You scared me,” you said, breathing in deeply to calm your heart.

You could feel his scent infiltrating your senses, it was a perfect blend of woody and citrus, which was also paired with slight musk and mandarin. He smelled really good.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he said, letting go so you could stand straight.

His eyes were full of worry, mouth slightly agape and you smiled to let him know you were okay. “Now, smile and talk,” you said as you both walked into the cafeteria.

“Do I really never smile?” He asked you, “because people are staring.”

“I told you already! You smile only when you’re around our friends and we have never really talked before, at least in front of others,” you laughed.

The whole group went silent as the two of you approached. Heeseung was the first one to raise his eyebrows as you sat down with him, but Jake didn’t sit next to Sunghoon. Instead, he sat down next to you.

Linda, as usual, was sitting on Sunghoon’s lap, but that didn’t stop Hoon from staring at you and Jake.

“Something is fishy,” Heeseung pointed out.

“What is?” You asked, feigning innocence.

Jake was silent when he wrapped his strong arm around your waist, pulling you slightly closer to him. You could feel your stomach tingling, and he simply smiled your way.

“Firstly, I saw you getting out of Jake’s car in the morning,” Hee noted, “secondly, he was holding your hand and he walked you to the class. Thirdly, he’s been smiling nonstop.”

“Dude, no way!” Mark simply laughed, thinking it’s another one of Heeseung’s jokes.

Ningning looked lost while Jay seemed to be focusing on your expression, “I don’t think it’s one of his jokes this time,” he said.

“It’s really not!” Hee argued, glad that Jay was agreeing.

“Does this mean—” Mark’s eyes widened.

“—that they’re dating,” Yunjin said, acting her best as she widened her eyes, almost standing up at the confession.

A series of gasps left their mouths, “what?” They collectively exclaimed.

You tried your best to hold in your laugh as Jake turned to look at you, and from the side of your eyes, you could notice Sunghoon staring at you deeply with his jaw clenched.

“They are! Look! He’s got his arm around her waist,” Heeseung exclaimed in an overdramatic way.

“Guys—” you tried to say but Jake stopped you.

“It’s fine, princess. They know now,” he smiled, pulling you even closer in a side hug.

That caused Ningning, Mark and Heeseung to scream while Linda squealed, jumping on Hoon’s lap.

Jake caressed the corner of your lip adoringly, “no need to hide it from our friends, baby,” he said before looking up, “Heeseung is right, we are dating.”

“What the fuck?”

“Since when?”

“Excuse me?”

“Did you fuck?”

All eyes turned to Ningning in disbelief as she asked the question, “what? I’m curious,” she shrugged, everyone looking at Sunghoon subtly to observe his reaction.

You leaned into Jake’s chest, making yourself comfortable as you saw everyone chatting excitedly, your eyes settling on your ex for just a moment to see his furrowed brows and hardened eyes, a vein popping out from his neck.

Day one, successful.

“So you’re dating now, huh?” Sunghoon’s voice asked Jake as he entered their shared apartment.

Sunghoon was sitting on the couch, face devoid of expressions as he asked the question.

Jake chuckled softly, gripping his bag tighter as he walked into the room, standing in front of Sunghoon, “yeah. Who would’ve seen that coming?”

That caused the other boy to chuckle along, but it sounded strained, almost ending with a scoff, “I certainly didn’t see it coming.”

“You don’t sound happy for me,” Jake said, his tone teasing.

Sunghoon was trying hard to keep his fake smile up, “What makes you think so?”

“Your smile. It’s strained,” Jake pointed out, grabbing the bottle of beer in front of Sunghoon and taking a sip out of it.

Sunghoon clicked his tongue, looking Jake dead in the eye, “how can you date her? What happened to the bro code?”

Jake remained calm, “why? Weren’t you the one who was done with her?”

“She’s my fucking ex, Jake,” he snapped.

“That’s right, she’s your ex. She’s not yours anymore, she’s my girl.” Jake smiled, keeping the beer back on the table before walking away.

“Oh! And, try to be happy for us now, Hoon. I don’t want my princess to be sad because of us, yeah?” Jake gave him his infamous eye smile before returning to his room.

The plan was working.

You didn’t have morning classes the next day, which is why you had to walk to the main campus instead of getting a ride with your fake boyfriend. Yet you left your dorm an hour before your lecture to meet up with Jake as he had something to tell you.

The one thing you liked about your University was its beauty, the gardens and fresh flowers only heightened up your spirits as you tried to find Jake in the garden of the STEM faculty, which was mostly empty.

You spotted Jake waiting for you by a tree. He was reading the same book he had in the cafe the other day, you had also noticed how frequently he used to go to libraries during your relationship with Sunghoon. He loved to read.

“Hey,” you said, standing in front of him with a smile.

“Hey there, princess,” he replied, making you tilt your head.

“Why are you calling me that? We’re alone right now,” you laughed.

“For practice, of course,” he said in a beat before he handed you a cup of coffee, the exact one which you get from your favourite cafe nearby.

“How’d you know?” You blink, surprised at his sweet gesture, also thanking him for it.

He shrugged, “I’m known to be attentive,” he said.

Sunghoon never knew your favourite drink.

“Sunghoon talked to me yesterday,” he told you as you took a sip of your coffee.

“Yeah?” You asked, stepping closer to hear what he had to say.

“Yeah, he truly hates this setting. He asked me how I could date you.”

“Oh my god, he didn’t even hesitate? What did you say back then?” You asked.

“Hold on—” he said, grabbing your waist and turning you around, his hand resting on the back of your head as he pushed you against the tree.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, eyes widening as he leaned closer, making your heart beat out of your chest as you looked into his honey brown eyes which were surrounded by little specks of gold.

“Sunghoon,” he breathed out, “he’s here and he’s looking our way.”

To Sunghoon, it might look as if Jake and you are kissing but his lips are still inches away from yours, his scent pleasing your olfactory receptors as your ex only scoffed and walked away.

“Oh,” you said in understanding.

Jake only chuckled, “so, he went on saying how you are his ex and I shouldn’t be dating you,” he continued to tell you the story.

Only Jake Sim could talk so calmly in such a compromising position. You wondered if Sunghoon had left already.

“What did you reply?” You asked, voice coming out in a whisper as your body became aware of his hand which rested on your waist.

“That you’re not his anymore,” he claimed, “that you’re mine now.” He said, breathily.

You gulped down your nervousness. You knew it was a part of the act yet you couldn’t help but feel your skin tingling ever so slightly as you nodded.

“Is he gone?” You asked, referring to Sunghoon.

Jake blinked twice, finally looking up to see no sign of your ex anymore as he stepped back and you breathed in deeply.

“The plan is working perfectly then,” you let out softly.

He nodded, eyes crinkling.

“I almost forgot,” you gasped, “Yunjin gave me this idea that we should go on a date!”

“A date?” He asked, knowing that it’ll just be the two of you there.

“Yes. It’s honestly just to make it believable. We can go out, click pictures and have a good time by eating good food,” you said, looking in his eyes for confirmation.

“Sure, let’s do that,” he agreed, making you smile as you said you’d text him the details before rushing to your lecture.

Jake simply leaned back, staring at your rushing figure with tender eyes.

Another week had gone by swiftly and the only thing that bothered you were the girls who came up to you, asking if you were truly in a relationship with Jake, to which you said yes with the sweetest smile you could muster, crushing all their hopes of having a future with your fake boyfriend.

Heeseung was hellbent on knowing more about this newfound relationship of yours, Ningning simply wanted to know if the calm and silent guy was good in bed, Yunjin and Karina were amazing at acting as if they didn’t know it was fake. Mark approached Jake as he tried to get a few tips out of him since Mark wanted to man up and confess to his crush.

As for Sunghoon, you hadn’t seen him for the past two days. He didn’t sit with your group during lunch, nor was in any of your shared lectures. Even his girlfriend came to ask you guys if you had seen him. Only Jake knew that Sunghoon had spent the past two days drinking at their apartment.

That was the least of your concerns as Ningning kept asking you random questions.

“Favourite hair colour on guys?” She asked.

“Black looks heavenly,” you admitted.

“And haircut?” She asked Karina.

“Anything as long as it’s not a bowl cut,” she winced, distaste for that haircut clear on her face.

“But guys, undercut looks so fucking hot, you have to admit that,” you pointed out and everyone seemed to agree with you.

The conversation was casual but Jake decided to take it up a notch and surprise you with something you had decided upon, yet never executed.

“Let’s go on a date today, baby,” Jake suggested, again making everyone stop and stare at you both.

“Dude, how are you so cool?” Mark whined, wanting to do the same with his crush.

“I thought you were shy, but I guess the silent ones are the freakiest,” Ningning commented.

“He’s literally talking about a date, Ning,” you sighed.

“I can't believe he took you away from me,” Heeseung shook his head as you gave him a look.

“You guys were never together in the first place,” Karina reminded him, and he sobbed dramatically.

Jake looked at you expectantly, his eyes seemed bigger than usual and you could swear they were shining just the perfect amount. It somehow made you look away, biting your lower lip in the process before you nodded.

“I’d love to,�� you admitted.

“Perfect, I’ll pick you up at five,” he said, grabbing his bag and swinging it on his right shoulder.

He noticed how you looked happy this particular day, your face had a certain kind of glow to it and your smile was brighter. It seemed as if you were doing better now, and your friends really loved to see you this way.

He bent down, touching your cheek tenderly, pressing his lips on your forehead ever so gently, making your eyes flutter close at the soothing sensation.

“See you then, princess,” he whispered, looking at you one last time before going to attend his next lecture.

“Did he just?” Heeseung covered his mouth.

You were just as shocked as the others, not expecting any kind of PDA at all, especially when Sunghoon wasn’t around. That was the first time he had done it. You bit your lip yet again, looking down at your lap, trying to contain your smile.

Yunjin and Karina looked at you before looking at each other with a knowing look.

Then they smiled, wishing for the best.

“What do I even wear?” You huff in distress, looking at your roommates who looked like statues seeing your bed full of random clothes tossed around.

“You can simply ask him where you guys are gonna go, it’s not like you’re actually dating and it’s a surprise,” Karina pointed out.

You stopped, saying, “you’re right actually,” but then you whined, “I don’t wanna ask him such simple things, help me out guys.”

Yunjin sighed, mustering her stylist expression as she gave your wardrobe and your bed a once over, quickly getting all articles of clothing she wanted before handing them over to you, solving your problem in two minutes maximum.

“Don’t you think this dress is a little fancy? I mean, we’re probably going to a local cafe,” You asked, cocking your brow.

“Just trust me and wear this babygirl,” Yunjin said, using her usual nicknames.

You had just finished applying your lip oil, concluding your makeup as you got a notification from Jake saying he was outside your dorm.

You smiled unknowingly at the text, a feeling of excitement, or rather, giddiness creeping up your stomach as you bid your roommates goodbye, grabbing your purse and not forgetting to thank them for tolerating your tantrums.

Walking out of the dorm and towards the exit, you stopped as you saw Jake leaning against his car, which wasn’t an unusual sight for you, however, you had never expected to see him in a black jacket, thinking that he’d be clad in his usual hoodies.

His hair was neatly trimmed as he sported an undercut, which he didn’t have in the morning, meaning he got it cut right after your classes.

Right after you revealed your liking for the particular haircut.

“Jake,” you whispered, walking closer to him, noticing how he wasn’t wearing his usual specs either, probably opting for the lenses instead.

He was lost in his own thoughts, his eyes fixated on the flower he held in his hand, completely immersed in his thoughts before he looked up to see you standing right in front of him.

“Y/n,” he murmured, his heart pounding slightly as he noticed the light breeze gently swaying the hem of your dress, “you look beautiful,” he smiled, dissipating your jittering nerves and sending a wave of warmth through your chest.

“You look so—” you tried to find the right word, eyes never leaving his face as you had never seen him look so bold before, “captivating.”

He laughed at your statement, “here,” he said, extending his arm and passing you the flower he had gotten for you, the tips of your fingers brushed against his ever so slightly, “glad I could captivate you, sweetheart,” he whispered, winking at you.

You were left stunned, wondering where did he get his sudden boost of confidence from as you sat inside his car, watching him start the car, gripping the steering wheel normally, yet it made the veins of his hands pop out.

You cleared your throat, “so, where are you taking me today?” You asked him.

“Well, that’s something you’ll have to wait and see,” he teased, building up your anticipation.

“Okay, is it far though?” You asked, falling into a conversation with him so easily, and he told you it would be an hour long drive, making you wonder where you were off to.

There was something so endearing about others sharing their favourite things and talking about them, you loved to hear all of it and you felt even better seeing Jake comfortable around you as he went on telling you about the books he’d been reading and recommending the ones you’d like.

One hour felt like a few minutes with him, time passing by effortlessly. Your lips parted in surprise once you saw where you were.

It was the fancy restaurant you’d been wishing to visit from the past year, but never got a chance to do so, “oh my god, I really wanted to come here to eat,” you told him, smile brightening and you were glad you had dressed up for it.

“I know,” he said, extending his arm for you to hold.

You looked at him, incredulous, “how?”

“I asked Karina,” he admitted as you held on to his arm softly.

You were thoroughly surprised at his revelation, knowing that he could’ve taken you to any normal place nearby but he chose this. You were in awe at how beautiful the interior was as you focused on the little details here and there.

“You didn’t have to do so much, Jake,” you whispered, loving how his skin shone under the light of the chandelier.

He shook his head softly, eyes never leaving your face, “I know it’s a fake date but it doesn’t mean that I’ll take you to our usual cafés, you deserve more than that.”

You breathed in softly, breaking eye contact and looking at your fiddling fingers. You felt as if your heart was beating out of your chest. Everything he did felt so genuine and well thought of. He cared about your likes and dislikes, he always took a note of your preferences.

Sunghoon never did that.

“You’re too fucking sweet,” you muttered under your breath so he can’t hear it.

“Hm?” He asked, menu in his hands as he scanned it thoroughly for all possible options.

“Nothing,” you smiled, getting your phone out and clicking a few candid pictures of him, which did capture his attention.

“What’s that for?” He looked at you with big eyes, his face giving out the cutest expressions despite him looking tough in his undercut and newfound style.

“Why not? Can’t post my boyfriend on my story now?” You asked cheekily.

It was something you both had decided you’d do, the likes and replies flooded in soon as your friends were flabbergasted at the fact that Jake had cut his hair and dressed up so well.

You both decided upon the dishes you wished to have and the waiter noted it down kindly, leaving you two alone to talk after.

“Won’t you post me too?” You asked.

“I will, you just have to wait for a while. I promise it’ll be the prettiest picture ever,” he said, full of confidence.

“Well, that’s a challenge then because I don’t usually like my photos,” you smirked and he leaned in.

“We’ll see how that goes,” he challenged.

It was great that you could share any kind of emotions with him, whether it was you being goofy, him being silent, or you being nervous as he turns to be confident. It was a mix of everything.

Soon, your food was served to you and even the scent of the scrumptious meal was enough to make your mouth water as you hummed with delight with just one bite, saying it melted just perfectly in your mouth.

You didn’t notice him watching your eager face, loving your reaction as he felt like he did the right thing bringing you here. Until you catch him watching you.

“Is there something on my face?” You asked cluelessly, pouting as you ate another bite.

“Actually, yeah there is,” he said, leaning closer to caress the corner of your lip with his thumb, brushing away the crumbs gently as you simply sat with your heart pounding at his gesture. Even more so when he smiled, licking his thumb, “all done.”

“You’re really so good at it,” you muttered, and this time he heard it.

“At what?”

“If you do this,” you said, gesturing at your lip, “to any girl then she’ll definitely swoon over you.”

He raised his brow, “why? Did you like it that much?”

An awkward chuckle left your mouth as you tried to dismiss his question, “I’m just saying,” you state, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

He only laughed, “alright, sweetheart.”

You whined, and the other families around looked at you both with soft eyes, thinking you both were cute together as his eyes turned into crescents at your behaviour.

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so at ease being out with someone. That wasn’t just all, Jake insisted on taking you to another place for a little walk. Night had fallen as you walked together on a rather empty bridge, yet it was a pretty sight—water reflecting the glistening stars along with the crescent moon.

“How’s Sunghoon?” You asked all of a sudden, not noticing Jake’s smile faltering for a fraction of a second.

“He’s coping in his own way. I bet he’ll be back to uni tomorrow. But he definitely regrets it,” Jake lets out slowly, “isn’t that your goal?”

You stop walking, trying to find the right words, “yeah,” you whispered, “but it’s not over until he confronts me himself. I need some closure,” you said, looking at him with a teasing smile now, “why? Don’t wanna be with me anymore?”

He licked his lips, biting his tongue as he smiled, which you noticed was another habit of his, “of course not. It’s good to have someone to talk to.”

“Yeah? Then tell me more about you,” you said, looking at the water as you folded your arms over the railing.

He was silent for a few seconds, joining you to lean on the railing, “I’ve always been the shy kid I guess. I was the one who always used to read sitting in the corner of a class and so, I never really had friends.”

You didn’t glance at him, letting him speak freely. Jake was one of the kindest souls you had ever met and it was obvious even in the little time you had known him. You wanted him to be happy.

“Hoon was my friend ever since we were kids, our families are really close so he was forced to befriend me. He didn’t mind it, he was the kindest child and helped me talk to others, he was also the reason why I met you guys,” he sighed, “Hoon was always first when it came to everything, he led the way for me and I let him do that each time.” He turned his head, looking your way as he whispered, “until I realized I should’ve been the first this one time.”

You couldn’t understand what he was referring to, yet you understood that Sunghoon was dear to him, however his recent actions caused him to drift apart from Jake.

A flash of light took you out of your trance. Jake had clicked your picture, “show!” You said, almost jumping closer to him and his shoulders rose up as he laughed when you tried to get his phone from his hands.

“You’ll see when I post it,” he said.

You whined again, “but what if I look bad in the picture?”

“You can’t ever look bad, sweetheart,” he said earnestly and you could feel your cheeks heating up as you closed your mouth shut, biting your lip as you looked away shyly.

He chuckled, “let’s get you home now.”

You checked the time on your wristwatch, “oh, yeah. It’s late.”

You both started walking towards his car, getting off the bridge as Jake saw you shiver with the sudden gust of chilly air hitting you.

He wasted no time in getting his jacket off and passing it to you, “here, it’s cold.”

Your eyes widened to see him wearing nothing but a white tank underneath which displayed his muscles as the moonlight accentuated it further. You never knew he worked out, your eyes travelling to his arms which were veiny.

Jake looked unreal, almost like the bad boys you’d see in a movie but his well sculpted face made him look like a Greek god. He really had it all.

You didn’t even notice you had stopped walking as Jake wrapped his jacket around your figure, smiling slightly as you reached the car, his scent enveloped you aa you hugged the jacket closer to you.

“T—thank you,” you spoke, mentally slapping yourself for stuttering.

“Can’t let my girlfriend freeze now, can I?” He stated more than asked.

He helped you get in the car by opening the door, which he always did. It was another habit of his which you found endearing. He got in the car soon, looking your way before he leaned in all of a sudden, his face inches away from yours, causing you to stop breathing for a few seconds.

The shape of his lips was beautiful.

He leaned back soon, dragging the seatbelt with him as he secured you in your seat. The proximity reminded you of how he kissed your forehead in the morning, and your mouth worked before your mind could as you asked him about it.

“Uh, so—why did you kiss my forehead in the morning?” You inquired.

He most certainly was not expecting that question, and his expression gave it away, “your friends were watching,” he stated, licking his lips, “and Mark was suspicious as we never kissed before or did anything other than hand holding,” he explained.

“Did he ask you about it?” You questioned, hugging the jacket closer to your body.

Jake hummed as a reply, seeing you get comfortable on the seat with droopy eyelids, he knew you were going to fall asleep soon and he let you.

His heart could only take so much for one day.

He made sure to drive safe, glancing at your sleeping figure from time to time and he swore you looked like a baby when you slept.

You reached back safely and he stopped the car, he didn’t wish to wake you up when you looked so at peace. He called out your name softly, coming closer to pat your shoulder.

You stirred in your sleep, opening your eyes slowly to find Jake close to you.

“We’re here,” he spoke, voice low.

“Oh,” you blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the street lights as you got out of the car, not expecting Jake to get out along with you.

You looked at him in question and he just shrugged, his muscles flexing in the process, “let me walk you to your door,” he said.

Sunghoon never walked you to your door.

“Don’t you ever get tired of being a gentleman?” You asked with an amused smile.

“Not when it comes to you,” he uttered quietly.

Heat rushed up the tip of your ears now that you stood in front of him, “Jake—” you whispered, “thank you so much for today. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun on a date.”

A fake date, you reminded yourself.

“It’s good to see you happy,” he took a step closer, “good night, princess.”

He was gentle as he slowly brushed his fingers on your forehead to tuck your hair behind your ear, he leaned in closer, his lips grazing your forehead in a featherlight kiss. You closed your eyes, the warmth of his kiss lingering on your skin as he bid goodbye to you.

He was walking away by the time you could open your eyes and breathe again, not even bothering to ask for his jacket back from you.

You looked around your place once to see if your friends were watching this time.

They weren’t.

Your room had a tranquil atmosphere as the moonlight coming from the window lit it up. Your roommates were already asleep in their respective rooms as you got changed into your sleepwear and took your makeup off, carefully keeping Jake’s jacket on the bed, not once thinking that your pillow would exude a scent like him too.

It was hard to sleep, as if you had a feeling of giddiness bubbling up inside of you. Even after tossing and turning, you couldn’t find a perfect position to sleep, not to mention how your mind had created a montage of today’s date, replaying it over and over.

You sighed, staring at the ceiling before closing your eyes shut, hoping you’d get some sleep before waking up for Uni in the morning. And slowly, you drifted to dreamland with Jake’s scent lingering in the air.

Your alarm clock was your enemy. You really needed a few more minutes to catch up on your sleep, grabbing your phone to see if there’s something that could drive your sleepiness away.

There was.

Your picture was the first thing you saw when you opened Instagram, it was posted by Jake instead of being put up as a story, which was unusual since he only had two pictures on his account—one of him and the other one of his pet dog.

A soft gasp left your mouth, heart thumping out of your chest as you saw the picture. The flash made you glow and you had the tiniest hint of a smile on your face as you looked at the night sky.

It was indeed your prettiest picture anyone had ever captured, it was exactly what Jake had promised.

The caption, however, made you turn around and grab your pillow as you screamed into it, kicking your feet.

My girl, that’s what he wrote in his caption, paired with a red heart.

You knew it was for show but that didn’t stop the butterflies in your stomach from going feral. It felt too real, the gestures, the little things. It felt more real than your previous real relationship and you weren’t sure how you felt about it.

It was another day where you had afternoon classes, and so you did not go to the uni with Jake. You had not liked or commented on the picture yet, pondering about how to go on about this.

Jake had texted you twice, wishing you a good morning first and then asking if you had your lunch yet. You were tempted to reply but first, you gained a slight amount of courage and liked his post.

You typed a comment with the first thing that came to your mind.

You’re mine forever ❤️

Your cheeks burned up as you kept your phone down on one of the picnic benches kept around the campus, as that was the exact place you were sitting at after your classes had ended.

A very whiny and feminine voice called out your name, and you looked up to see Linda along with your ex and your fake boyfriend. The smile on her face was sickening and you wondered what they were doing together.

Yet again, you did not think twice before getting up and burying your face in Jake’s chest, wrapping your arms around him in an embrace. This shocked Jake, you could feel him go still for a negligible second before a deep laugh boomed up his chest, you could feel him vibrate as he wrapped his arms around your frame.

“Missed me that much, baby?” He asked, patting your head.

Sunghoon watched the scene unfold with dark eyes.

“I missed you so much, baby,” you whispered.

It was the first time you had used a nickname on anyone, heck you never even called Sunghoon that.

A cough separated you both and now you couldn’t muster up enough courage to look at Jake while he couldn’t stop looking your way.

“Linda wants to have lunch together, like a double date,” Jake told you and you saw Linda nod excitedly.

“It’s so romantic! We even got the lunch packed, see!” She raised her hand to show you two bags which probably had the lunch she was talking about.

This day couldn’t have gotten more weird.

“That sounds great!” You tried to sound cheerful but it only came out awkward.

Good for you, Linda didn’t pick up your tone and clapped excitedly, “we only have thirty minutes because I have my salon appointment after so let’s be fast,” she spoke in a go.

You noticed Jake sporting the same look of confusion as you, it was an awkward situation indeed. Sunghoon didn’t say a word, only observing you and Jake.

Jake took the paper bag and got the packed lunches out. He had gotten you your favourite salad with grilled chicken as he opted to get the same dish for himself, not forgetting to get you coke, which you preferred to drink while eating.

He really paid a lot of attention to your likes and dislikes.

Linda really couldn’t read the room as she never once stopped talking about this new lingerie set she got for herself, “Hoonie liked it too,” she giggled and you tried to focus on eating, not having it in you to picture it in your mind.

“I’ve told you not to call me that,” he spoke, his words harsh.

That was the first time he opened his mouth ever since you started eating. Linda didn’t care, pouting slightly as she started talking again, “let’s play couples quiz!” She squealed.

You could feel your headache growing with her high pitched voice.

“Jake, when’s Y/n’s birthday?” She asked.

He fixed his gaze on you, answering the question correctly. You tried not to be shocked, displaying your sweet smile for them. He actually knew a lot about you, the eye contact made you bite your lower lip before you asked.

“Sunghoon, when’s Linda’s birthday?” You asked now, questioning him directly, which he did not expect.

“Third of February,” he said and Linda gasped, offended.

“That’s not my birthday!” She almost screamed, bickering with him for a solid minute as Jake passed you a few tissues, seeing the salad get on your fingers.

“Okay, next question,” she said and she kept on asking him questions as if it was a rapid fire round and Jake answered each of them correctly. Your heart was thumping out of your chest, he knew your favourite colour, your favourite tv show and singer, your favourite cake and song.

Sunghoon knew nothing.

Linda didn’t know a thing about Sunghoon either, just like he never knew a thing about Linda.

Sunghoon slammed his fist on the table, getting up and walking away without any second glance, you almost jumped with how loud the sound was, your hand resting on top of your chest to soothe your nerves.

Linda ran after him, or rather she tried to run after him in her heels.

“Are you okay?” Jake asked you softly, his fingers caressing your cheek as he searched your face for any kind of discomfort.

You nodded, gulping and looking away.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Your skin wouldn’t stop tingling where he had touched you, it was almost impossible for you to breathe when he was so close to you.

“Y—yeah, I’m okay. I think I should go and get my assignments done now, yeah,” you said, fumbling over your words as Jake frowned, wondering if he did something wrong.

“Y/n—”

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” You waved at him, almost running away, leaving him with a dejected sigh.

Of course, you didn’t have to answer his questions, he reminded himself. It was a fake relationship after all.

So, while you laid in your bed with your pillow clutched close to your chest, Jake stood in front of Sunghoon at their apartment.

“Since when do you eat salad?” Sunghoon asked, tone somewhat disappointing. laced with a hint of jealousy.

“Y/n likes it,” Jake smiled softly, “It was hard not to like it after.”

“You hated coffee,” Sunghoon almost accused.

“I like it now, it’s normal to develop your taste,” Jake replied calmly.

“You’ve never gone on a date before, you’ve never had this kind of hairstyle before. You’re changing yourself and for what?” Sunghoon sighed, shoulders dropping when he accused him again.

Jake only bit his lip, “love does things to you and I think I'm changing for the better.”

Love.

That’s all Sunghoon had to hear before leaving the room.

“Why are you sulking, babygirl?” Yunjin asked you the next day, seeing you sitting with your blanket wrapped around you, a piece of chip in your mouth as you lazily snacked on it.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, hiding your face.

Yunjin rolled her eyes, “you were squealing in the morning yesterday, what changed?”

You sighed deeply, “I guess I’m just feeling a bit down today,” you shrugged.

She sat down on the bed, right in front of you before pulling you in the most warm and comfortable hug. It was something you appreciated even more this particular day. You felt conflicted with your feelings.

It’s the little things, it’s always the little things when it comes to Jake, it creates a bigger picture for him. But for Sunghoon, it was only the larger picture with no elements supporting it.

“That’s the problem, babygirl. I’m not gonna let you drown in your own blanket all evening. You’re coming with me to the party,” Yunjin stated, opening your closet to select an outfit for you already.

Turns out that Yunjin can be a great manipulator because there was no way you’d be standing in the middle of a party with a vodka shot in your hand otherwise.

Maybe drinking would help you, it always does. It’s almost pathetic how you’re ready to get shitfaced for a whole night just to get rid of intrusive thoughts, the thoughts which consisted of Jake and Jake only.

You drank that shot in a go, getting another one as Heeseung tried to stop you but to no avail. Once you had taken three shots, all in a row, you turned around to find Karina, who looked as if she spent a while trying to find you.

“Y/n! Where have you been?” She asked, grabbing your hand, “come, we’re gonna play upstairs.” Without much fighting, she dragged you upstairs and Heeseung followed behind.

You wondered what Jake would be doing right now.

The multicoloured lights were shining bright as they covered the expanse of the whole staircase, which you had trouble walking up, courtesy of your heels and a very short dress.

Karina opened the door to a room and your eyes immediately scanned the surroundings to understand who you were going to deal with tonight.

It was your whole friend group and some of their mutual friends too, however that wasn’t why you stood frozen in your spot at the given moment.

Jake Sim, the guy you had been avoiding since yesterday, was sitting in the same circle, the bean bags, sofas and chairs were arranged to be that way, as he sipped on a can of beer which he held in his slender fingers.

Seeing him at the party was shocking enough as he rarely attended any, but to add on to it, he was all dressed up as well.

He sipped on the drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he gulped. The side angle gave you the best view of his undercut and defined jawline, your eyes travelling down to his chest, which was exposed as the top few buttons of his white shirt were unbuttoned, a black leather jacket covering him up as he also sported a few rings on his long, veiny fingers, a necklace gracing his slender neck.

You almost forgot how to breathe until Karina pushed you forward, which gained the attention of Jake, who smiled your way as he expected you to come over to him.

Karina and Yunjin high fived in the background, meaning; it was their plan for you both to meet at the party.

Your heels clicked as you walked towards him, it was as if you both were the only ones in the room at the given moment. He wasn’t being subtle as he stared at you, especially how he looked up when you stood next to him.

“Baby,” he whispered, pulling you to him—which was something you never expected.

You landed straight on his lap, his arm wrapped around you securely as the other one rested on your thigh, covering up your skin which was showing, courtesy of your short dress.

Your mind blanked, you couldn’t think anymore as goosebumps rose up your arms when he spoke in his deep voice, the others also stopped to stare at you both as he was not the one to show affection in public.

Heeseung and Yunjin teased you both, yet that wasn’t something you paid much attention to. You didn’t even see Sunghoon sitting in the same room, as if he wasn’t anyone to you anymore.

“I missed you so fucking much,” he whispered, making you sit close to him, your hand working on its own as it held on to his broad shoulder for support.

You should have been used to this whole fake dating plan of yours, yet you couldn’t ever get used to Jake’s constant surprises. It didn’t feel like it was fake when it came to him and it most certainly wasn’t a help how you could feel the alcohol kicking in, his hand felt warm on your cold skin.

“Jake,” you whispered, looking at him with hooded eyes.

However, you never got to say anything further as others had decided on playing a classic game of twenty one dares.

The first dare went to Mark, who was given the dare to kiss his crush who sat right next to him.

“Why were you avoiding me all day?” Jake asked in a whisper when everyone else was busy cheering for Mark.

You had no answer for it, nor did you have any way to control your heart which was thumping out of your rib cage with the proximity.

You breathed out with a chuckle which sounded forced, grabbing a beer can which was on the table in front of you, “avoiding you? Why would I?” You asked, looking away.

That wasn’t much help as he was quick to grab your chin, making you look his way again, “did I do something wrong?”

His actions were bold, yet his voice was sweet and full of concern. You shook your head, resting it on his shoulder, “of course not,” you whispered, not having it in you to look at him, “you’re really perfect, Jake.”

He wasn’t given any time to react as others cheered.

Apparently, it was your turn to get a dare and the evil smile on Jay’s face gave it all away, as if he knew exactly what was going on between you two.

“I dare you to kiss Jake,” he smirked as everyone minus Sunghoon clapped, Mark nodding, still red from the kiss.

“True, we’ve never seen you kiss,” Hee muttered in realization.

You stopped breathing, seeing everyone cheering for you. You had fake kissed him when Sunghoon was watching that one day in the lawns, yet this was a whole different story when they were demanding an actual kiss from you both.

Jake’s hand tightened around your waist, your dazed eyes taking in his expression as he raised his hand to cup your cheek, caressing the corner of your lips gently, as if he was asking for your permission.

You knew you were drunk, yet all your senses made you feel as though you were the sanest person alive. The anticipation felt so painful and you could feel Sunghoon’s stare on you both.

With a tender sigh, your eyes closed shut as you grabbed the collar of his jacket, pulling him into you.

Your lips collided in a fervent kiss, your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging it ever so slightly, causing him to groan into your mouth as his hand supported the back of your head, tilting it slightly as your desire and passion fused together, transcending your surroundings.

You couldn’t hear the whistling or screaming around your surroundings, your mind completely gave in to the pretty boy, who was kissing you like his life depended upon it.

His lips were soft, perfectly moulding against yours as you moved them in harmony, letting the sheer pleasure take over your senses to the point you couldn’t differentiate between whether you were drunk which made you feel as if you were in the state of unadulterated ecstasy or it was simply Jake’s effect on your body.

You didn’t pay attention to Sunghoon, who threw the beer can on the floor, walking away from the room, nor did you care about Linda who ran after him.

All you knew was that Jake Sim was kissing you and he was exceptionally amazing at it.

He squeezes your waist as you gasped, letting him bite your lower lip, lacking his usual self control as he mentally claimed you to be too intoxicating for him.

“Hey! Get a fucking room!” Jay shouted.

That was enough for you to break the kiss, your eyes still closed as your chest heaved up and down, blood rushing to your cheeks as you felt tingly all over, the shiver going down your spine all the way to your abdomen.

Jake was already staring at you by the time your eyes fluttered open. His lips looked plump, slightly swollen from how you had kissed him, the veins on his neck seemed even more prominent but his eyes—they were dark, laced with lust.

He didn’t wish to stop.

You didn’t want him to stop.

He got up from the chair, making you stand up along with him, his fingers quick to intertwine with yours as he pulled you with him, your wide eyes drifting to look at Karina who only winked at you, giving a thumbs up alongside it.

“Jake,” you breathed, following him out and into an empty room, which he locked before pushing you against the wooden door.

You could barely stand given how weak your knees felt at that exact moment. It most certainly didn’t help that Jake bent down to your level, the dim lights of the room making his skin shine as he asked you again.

“Why were you avoiding me, Y/n?” His tone gave you goosebumps when you heard your name roll out of his tongue.

Forming sentences felt like a tough job when his lips were borderline touching yours, “because,” you whispered mindlessly, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Your voice was quiet, just like the room, which made it sound louder than intended as you looked him up through your lashes.

His jaw was clenched, you could notice him breathing deep, his hold on you tight and you chuckled deeply, alcohol taking over your senses, “I can’t stop thinking of you, Jaeyun.”

You didn’t let him reply before you pressed your lips onto his, your bodies pressed against each other, mouths moving as your lips melded and parted, his hands all over your body, every touch igniting a spark in you.

He tapped your thigh twice and you got the memo, jumping into his arms as he picked you up with ease, muscles flexing in the process but his lips never left yours while he walked towards the bed, helping you lie down as he got on top of you, your legs wrapping around his waist as your dress started riding up your thigh.

He leaned back, eyes fixated on yours but you only continued to pepper kisses along his jawline, and down his neck, making him growl as he stopped you from unbuttoning his shirt.

“You’re drunk, baby. I don’t want you to regret anything in the morning,” he says softly, breathing in your scent as he inhales deeply.

“I’m not,” you whined, switching your positions to be sitting in front of him, trying to remove his jacket, before he stops you with his fingers wrapping around your wrist.

He cupped your cheek as you looked at him sadly, “tell me, do you not want me?” You’d ask, playing with his necklace.

“Fuck,” he muttered. He couldn’t hold himself back, not when your eyes sparkled with innocence and undeniable glimmer of need, “you have no idea, darling,” he chuckles, running his thumb on your lower lip, which was still wet from your kiss, “I want you so fucking much.”

That was enough for you to smile at him, eyes hazy as you slid off the bed and got on your knees, unbuckling his belt as you fumbled with the button of his jeans while Jake couldn’t believe this was happening.

The strap of your dress slid down, revealing more of your cleavage, that’s exactly when you helped him get out of his jeans, revealing his boxers. Your fingers grazed his clothed cock, your lips tugging up as you saw him groan, even more so when you kissed his semi-hardened cock.

His eyes never left yours during the entire time you teased him, getting his leather jacket off, leaving him in his white button up and boxers, which you pulled down in a go.

A shiver went down your abdomen, making you close your thighs with how big he was. His cock was hard, leaking with precum that made your mouth water. He had the biggest cock you had ever witnessed in your life, girth and veiny too.

He sucks in a sharp breath when you take him in your small hand, squeezing it a smidge before planting featherlight kisses all over his length, swirling your tongue around his head, he bit his lip as he took the scene in front of him. You licked big stripes of his length before taking his head into your mouth.

That snapped him out of his daze, he couldn’t take your teasing any longer. Pushing himself up slightly, he spread his legs to accommodate your body between it as he grabbed your nape, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail as you took him in, your hands stroking the base where your lips couldn’t reach.

“Just like that, sweetheart,” he groaned, pushing your head to hold his cock in you even deeper.

You can’t help but think how he looks nothing like his sweet self in the given moment, he looks like a devil who’s thirsting for lust, his eyes dark and so immersed in your activities.

His length throbs in your mouth as you continue your ministrations, quickening your pace as you sucked him off with all you had, hearing him growl made you realize how your panties were soaking wet when you release him with a satisfying pop sound, looking up at him again.

He sat straighter, his thumb wiping the saliva that was all over your chin and lips before pulling you up on the bed, spreading your legs to see a wet patch on your panties as you struggled to take your dress off.

He chuckled deeply, “Oh, bunny. Let me help you with that,” he says, cursing once he sees you without any bra, his fingers tracing your neck, your clavicle and going all the way down to pay attention to your tits.

However, that’s not all he does. Your toes curl when he yanks your panties to the side, immersing his tongue to tease your clit before he licks and sucks you thoroughly, humming against your folds as he gets drunk on the taste of your juices.

His tongue prods on your entrance, pushing it in as your fingers grabbed his roots, tugging on his hair which also elicited a deep groan from him, your eyes rolling back with how ecstatic you felt.

He fucked your cunt, pushing his tongue in while his thumb worked wonders on your sensitive bundle of nerves, making you squirm around, finally moaning out, “Jake, oh god!” You cried out.

“That’s it baby, scream my name,” he whispers against you, the moist squelching noises filling up the room as you arched your back, your body shaking with how you could feel your high approaching, as he yearned for your pussy, not stopping once, as if he had completely plunged his body to focus on your pleasure and your pleasure only.

You chanted his name as if it was a mantra you had to recite, and that’s exactly when you felt your stomach tightening, a teardrop leaving the corner of your eye, cascading down your neck as you allowed yourself to feel the unadulterated bliss Jake provided you with.

It wasn’t the alcohol, you admitted.

You were drunk on Jake.

You breathed in deeply as he licked you up, finally getting up as he rolled your nipples between the rough pads of his fingers before he also removed his last article of clothing, leaving you to see the shadow of his abs and pecs clearly.

“Tell me you won’t regret this in the morning, baby,” he breathes out, searching your eyes as his length brushes against your sensitive cunt.

“I won’t,” you promised, “I want you, I need you, Jake,” you cried out as his eyes turned hooded.

He silenced your loud moan with his lips on yours, your nails digging into his back as he gave a sharp thrust, filling you up till he bottomed out easily with how wet you were, kissing your tears away and giving you a minimum of two seconds before he grabbed your wrists, holding them above your head.

“Do you know how pretty you look right now, bunny?” He asks, giving you another sharp thrust, this particular one hitting your g-spot, which had you whimpering out his name, “all mine, yeah?” He asks, thrusting harder, his hips slapping your ass.

“Y—yours!” You managed to speak, eyes closing shut with pleasure.

“Open your eyes, baby. Look at me when I fuck your pretty little cunt,” he whispers as your wail out when his cock hits your cervix.

He takes his time to kiss and mark your neck, his teeth digging in as he sucks on your sensitive skin harsh enough to leave marks.

It was effortless how he moved in and out of you so easily despite groaning about how tight your little hole was and you felt dumb, you couldn’t think, you couldn’t speak. You simply knew and felt one thing and that was Jake.

He manhandled you easily, turning you around and lifting your ass up, your face buried into the pillow as your mascara smudged, just how your lipstick was smudged all over your cheeks.

He thrusted into you yet again, smacking your ass as he saw it jiggle with the impact, another moan reverberated the room, which made him spank you twice more before he started fucking you again, your walls clenching around him with need as he gave you almost brutal backshots.

“I’m—Fuck!” You cried out, almost passing out as you breathed in deeply.

You both were so close, his cock twitched in you as his thrusts got sharper, “go on, bunny. Cream my cock like a good fucking girl,” he groaned.

You withered beneath him as you screamed out his name with sheer pleasure as you reached your high, coating his cock with your juices before he also moaned deeply, fucking his cum into your glistening pussy.

He breathed in deeply as he pulled out, staring at your cunt which was dripping with your juices mixed together.

He sighed softly, holding you in his arms, “baby,” he whispered softly as you initiated a soft kiss, getting on his lap again as your heart beat rose up to the point you could hear it in your ears while Jake felt the same way.

He could see how exhausted you were by how you started dozing off in his arms. He didn’t know what would happen tomorrow, he didn’t want to know. All he wanted was to have you in his arms now and freeze the time.

It took him time to get up as he helped you get dressed up again, before he picked you up in his arms, getting down to see the party winding up. You were asleep and cuddling into him, his heart still racing as he saw Yunjin smiling at you two, “take her home with you,” she said, “and you better take care of her,” she added as a genuine warning, which made Jake nod earnestly.

He would never hurt you.

He really was perfect with how he took you to his room safely, with how he tried to remove your makeup even though he had no idea what he was doing, yet he was gentle as you slept with how drunk and exhausted you were. He made sure to change your clothes to his loose ones, just so you would sleep comfortably.

He had fucked you, however he still was respectful and tried to not look your way while he changed your clothes.

You looked so peaceful as you snuggled close to his pillow in his bed, he couldn’t help but stare at you with a soft smile as he kissed your forehead, “sleep well, baby.” He whispered as he slid under the covers next to you, holding you as if he was scared he’d lose you, his body shivering ever so slightly at the thought as he cradled you in his arms.

Jake really was perfect.

Your body was sore, the sunlight almost blinding you, adding on to the throbbing pain in your head as you shifted around the covers, opening your eyes with a groan to find yourself in unfamiliar surroundings.

A low cry left your lips as the memories of the past night flooded into your mind, the graphic details of Jake and you, the way he had asked you if you’d regret it.

You didn’t regret a thing.

And neither did you know how you’d face him after this. Yes, everything that started off as a fake relationship but even you couldn’t deny that none of it felt fake to you.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as you saw a little note on the nightstand saying—

Good morning, sweetheart <3 Please take this medicine when you wake up and also drink the hangover soup! I’ll be at Uni and will be back by the time you wake up, love.

“Why do you have to be so perfect?” You whined to yourself, kicking your feet, “why do you have to make me feel this way?” You whispered to yourself, gulping and looking at the medicines and a bowl of soup on the nightstand.

You didn’t realize that you were wearing Jake’s clothes till you spilled a little drop of soup on it, eyes widening for the nth time today as you gasped.

You couldn’t stay anymore, you got up and rushed to grab your clothes, which were folded neatly before you changed into them with a rush, getting out of his room while you checked your phone, bumping into a hard chest.

You winced, looking up as your expression dropped. Park Sunghoon stood there, his eyes sad as he searched your face for some kind of emotion, any kind of emotion, however you didn’t give him anything, choosing to walk away but he was quick to grab your wrist.

“Y/n,” he spoke your name in desperation and you tried your best not to turn around, yet you did, looking at his regret stricken face as he spoke further, “I broke up with Linda,” he started and you almost snorted.

“Well, good for you,” you said, turning around yet again, only to be stopped.

“Don’t fucking do this, Y/n,” he breathes, eyes watery, “I know you and Jake aren’t dating. Come back to me, baby, I regret everything I did to you, please?” He almost begs.

“Don’t call me that,” you seethed out, “you know nothing about us and it’s too late, Sunghoon. I don’t want you.”

He didn’t let you leave, pulling you into a hug as you struggled to get away, “I know you’re angry and you don’t mean it. Let’s be together again, we used to be so happy,” he whispered.

“And you fucking ruined it,” you cried out, pushing him away, “you ruined everything and you never cared about us! But y’know what? Jake isn’t like you. He’s kind, caring and he’s genuine about everything,” you let out, stepping away, “I love him.”

Saying that out loud felt like you had lifted a boulder off your chest. Your face was equally surprised as Sunghoon, but you didn’t stay any longer, shaking your head as you rushed out of the apartment and got into the safety of your own dorm.

You loved Jake.

And you were sure he didn’t feel the same, it was all fake for him. You sat in your bathtub for hours, pondering and mentally slapping yourself for letting this happen but it was beyond you. Jake was so easy to love.

What scared you the most that he hadn’t called you once, nor did he reply to any of your texts throughout the day. Your heart broke into pieces when he didn’t show up in front of your dorm to pick you up.

You were sure he hated you for drunkenly acting up that night, maybe that’s why he kept avoiding you. You had ruined everything.

The plan for the day wasn’t to attend the classes, but to find Jake. Every second that passed by without him talking to you felt like a punishment, as if your anxiety would eat you up through and through.

He wasn’t by the lawns, he wasn’t in the cafeteria and you could feel your eyes welling up with tears of frustration when you couldn’t find Jake. Yet you didn’t lose hope as you thought that he’d be in his lectures.

A big smile etched your face when you found him standing in front of his locker and you sprinted his way, which startled him. It was as if he didn’t expect to see you in front of him, his eyes leaving yours for a second before he smiled at you.

It was forced.

“Jake,” you breathed out as you felt fidgety, “can we talk?”

He bit his lower lip, not answering for a few seconds before he nodded, guiding you towards the rooftop for privacy, not uttering a word throughout the way.

You stood side by side, watching the cloudy sky as he finally looked your way, “congratulations,” he let out, trying to smile.

You looked at him, confused which only made him speak further.

“I saw you and Sunghoon hugging,” his voice broke but he gained his composure, “I know you’re probably back together now and you don’t need me—”

“Jake,” you whispered, shaking your head as you stepped closer to stop him, yet he continued.

“We don’t have to fake date anymore,” he nodded, looking at his feet, “I’m glad I could help you forget about him for some time and also with your revenge—”

You were on the verge of crying by now as you whispered his name again.

“I’m so stupid to have thought that maybe it won’t be fake, but I know you want Sunghoon—”

“Don’t you fucking see that I want you? Sunghoon and I talked, yes we did and I told him I don’t want him. I don’t fucking want him, Jake. You’re not a rebound to me, This isn’t fake to me anymore, I don’t think it ever felt fake to me,” you let out your frustrations, shutting him up fully.

“My heart feels like it would beat out of my chest every fucking time I’m near you, this longing intensifies each day and it scares me so much,” a crystalline tear escaped your eyes and Jake was quick to cup your face, as if on instinct and wipe it away, “you do this sweet things no one ever did for me, you remember the smallest details about me that no one else seems to care about and I feel restless when we don’t talk. I’ve grown so used to being around you, it’s not fucking fake. I think—I’m falling in love with you Jake,” you finally let out.

“You—you love me?” He asks, voice barely a whisper as he finds it hard to breathe and you nod, his slender fingers still cupping your cheek, “you hugged Sunghoon—”

“I pushed him away,” you said in a beat, “he hugged me, I didn’t,” you assured him, grabbing his hand which rested on your cheek, “I told him I love you.”

Jake pulled you in his embrace, his body shook slightly which broke your heart thinking how he had it all wrong, you never wanted to see him hurt, just like how he always wished for you to be happy.

He held you tighter, making you feel safe as warmth bloomed up your chest, “I liked you ever since I saw you trying to play guitar with Jay on the day we met, but Sunghoon was faster to reach out to you,” he confesses and you part your mouth with surprise as he leaned back to look at you, chuckling ever so lightly, “I hated how he treated you but when you came to me for help, I got selfish and used this to get closer to you, even if it meant that I’d have to fake date you,” he muttered, pressing his forehead against yours, “but I fell harder each day, even more so when I had to hold your hand and it felt so small against mine yet it fit perfectly, when you dressed up so beautifully for a fake date with me, when you looked so adorable in my jacket, when you remembered my birthday and my likes which even I hadn’t noticed before. I fell in love with you, baby,” he smiled through the tears as you pulled him in for a kiss, both of you smiling uncontrollably as it full of tenderness and affection, your hearts beating together as you shared unspoken promises through it.

You weren’t fake dating anymore as you looked at him with a silly smile, taking the document of your agreement out before scratching out a line.

Rule number one: Don’t fall in love.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

taglist: @ddeonuism @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @en-myworld @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @silenth1lls @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @bolliwon @woniebae @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore @seuomo @kyurizeu @haechan-nahceah @tobiosbbyghorl @jezzebear

permanent taglist open! comment or send an ask to be added!

#fic : rule no. 1 don’t fall in love #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #kpop smut #enha smut #jake smut #jake sim #sim jaeyun #jake imagines #enhypen headcanons #enhypen imagines #jake x reader #jay smut #heeseung smut #sunghoon smut

6K notes · View notes

ervotica · 6 months

Note

“C'mere, sweetheart-“ & “Breathe, just breathe-" with finnick please 🤍

a life of our own

pairing: finnick odair x reader

summary: finnick helps you find yourself again when you’re rescued from the capitol. you’re desperate to trust him again.

warnings: hurt/comfort, a lil fluff, a lil angst, r was tortured and brainwashed in the capitol after catching fire (i got sooo carried away with this but i luv it! hope you enjoy, please remember to like/comment + reblog!)

hunger games masterlist

Your chest is red-hot with anguish; it’s all you feel lately. Confined to this white room, locked in, spending all your time waiting for something that won’t come.

Nothing is real anymore. Your life is a thick fog that you can’t decipher, can’t tell which bits of it are real and which were planted by the Capitol. They made you a weapon against the revolution, against Katniss and Coin and Finnick.

You know him, that much is evident in your unconscious reactions. The way your chest tightens and squeezes when he walks into a room, how your breath catches and you hunger after his touch despite not knowing exactly why. But you know that he’s familiar and that - at one point or another - you loved him.

He visits routinely like clockwork, every day at around the same time. And each time you don’t push him away, don’t flinch at his touch like you do the others, his confidence grows.

Your doctor has been practicing memory games with you, which parts do your life are real and which are fabricated. You repeat them in your head over and over and sometimes they slip out when you’re talking, too. You’ve been incorporating opinions on top of the basic facts you know, and you’ve been including what you know about him.

You rock on the bed with your knees to your chest, feet tucked underneath you as you recite everything you can remember about him. You mutter it under your breath, tongue clicking as you whisper.

The door creaks and you stop dead mid-sentence. Finnick slips in without a word, pulling a chair up to sit by you. He doesn’t miss the way you eye him warily, watching every movement, every tick of his jaw and twitch of his muscles. You’ve always been perceptive- it’s one of his earliest memories of you. How you watch people.

He sits and watches you in return; you trace every inch of his body with your eyes, the bruises on his arms, the points of his shoulders, the slope of his nose and chin, the curve of his jaw.

“Finnick,” you say. He smiles; his fingers rest on the edge of the bed.

“That’s right.”

You reach out to touch him; he stays dead still as instructed by your doctors, but lets you lift his hand to place it in your own much smaller one. You turn so you’re sitting cross legged facing him, holding his hand in your lap. His heart could burst with the way you’re looking at him, a cocktail of fear and longing in your eyes. Something else lies deeper than that, like you’re being pulled through the rubble of your own mind and to the surface. Something a lot like love.

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice is small, more timid than he’s ever heard from you.

“Anything.”

“You love me. Real or not real?”

“Real,” he murmurs.

“I think I love you, too. I know I did before. I just don’t know which parts of my brain are real.” You fiddle with his fingers, the pad of your thumb rubbing over his knuckles methodically. If this is the only way you’ll ever touch him again, he’ll take it. He’ll take every scrap, every morsel of affection he can eke out of you. Whatever you’re comfortable with.

“We can figure that out together.” He’s soft as he speaks to you and it’s a voice that you remember. A very distinct one in your memory.

“Finnick,” you say again. He nods and shifts closer.

“Sometimes you call me Finn,” he starts, pressing lips to your knuckles. “Or honey. Or idiot if you’re mad at me.”

You smile and he catches a glimpse of you in there, engulfed by everything you’ve seen, everything you’ve been told. But he knows he can pull you out.

“I don’t think I’d ever be mad at you,” you mumble. He purses his lips thoughtfully.

“Well, sometimes I am an idiot. And I know you tell me that because you want to keep me safe.”

You’re in agreement there, not knowing everything but knowing undeniably that you would do anything to protect Finnick.

You shuffle over in the bed and tug at his arm. He tilts his head curiously, knowing what you’re asking but not wanting to be presumptuous.

“You want me to come sit up there with you, sweetheart?”

“Yes please.”

“Okay.” He settles himself next to you, legs outstretched where yours are tucked up tightly to your body. “If it gets too much, you tell me and I’ll go, okay?”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“Then I won’t.”

You shuffle round and swing your legs over his own so you’re almost completely in his lap; his arm comes up and over your shoulders automatically, like muscle memory. This is how you are in your clearest memories- together, a tightly knit partnership. He’s holding his breath, waiting for you to realise what you’re doing and lose composure, but that moment doesn’t come. You just sit and close your eyes, ear to his chest, listening to his heart beat.

“I’m tired,” you croak.

“You want me to leave you to sleep?”

“No.” Your voice is thick and uneven where you’re full of all these new emotions that you can’t quite place. “Will you stay?”

“I’ll stay as long as you want.”

He pulls the thin blanket over your body and smiles as you needle in close to him, face in the juncture of his neck. Hiding with him instead of from him.

“C’mere, sweetheart.” You relax at the pet name, your body going lax against his own as you start to fall asleep.

You can’t be asleep for more than 30 minutes before you start to stir. You’re muttering in your sleep as you start to twitch and reach out for something.

Your brow knits and it forms a crease in the middle of your forehead as you start to cry.

“Honey, c’mon,” Finnick murmurs, his hand pressed to your neck in an effort to rouse you. “It’s just a dream.”

His chest aches; he can’t bear seeing you in this state, knowing there’s not much he can do to make it better. Thinking it’s his fault for not getting to you in time.

You scream and wake with a start, wide-eyed and frantic. Your eyes flit around the clinical looking room as you try to gauge your surroundings and reorient yourself.

“Honey, it’s okay. It was just a dream, you’re safe.”

You scramble back and push him away, curling yourself up into a ball at the foot of the bed. Tears paint your cheeks and they shine in the harsh white lights, hiccuping sobs. He crouches a metre or so away, palms up, arms outstretched in hopes you’ll make contact again.

“Breathe, just breathe,” he says. “You’re okay. I’m here, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

You’re like a wild animal the way you look at him- panic-stricken and agitated, frenetic in the way you move.

“Honey, it’s me. It’s Finn.”

You swallow thickly and nod, your body slowly starting to unfurl.

“Finn,” you sniffle, holding out your arms. “Finnick.”

He creeps closer still and you practically throw yourself into his arms, face against the hollow of his throat, arms locked around his middle like a vice.

“I have you. I’m right here,” he says, over and over like a mantra. A promise.

“I don’t wanna live like this anymore.”

“You’re not going to,” he whispers. “I’ll be here until you feel well enough and then we can start planning our life. Together.”

“Okay.”

Your fingers card through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, wet eyes meeting his.

“I love you. I know it now, I can remember that.”

“I love you too,” he says, craning his neck to meet your eyes. “You’re my girl.”

You’re hesitant as you tilt your head up to press a kiss to his lips but he welcomes it, his thumb and forefinger holding your chin in place as he pecks you a few more times.

“We’re gonna have a life of our own, I promise.”

“A life of our own.”

4K notes · View notes

freedomfireflies · 2 months

Text

Pillow Talk*

Summary: The one where you and Harry both have insomnia, and decide to spend one very strange night together.

Word Count: 7.2k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, daddy kink, mentions of drugs, angst (w/ happy ending!), not suitable for Ramadan!

“Oh, absolutely not.”

“Come on. Just one time.”

“No. Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Probably. I haven’t slept in 32 hours.”

You huff as you hide yourself behind your door. You don’t even want to see him. Because you don’t want to have this conversation or entertain this idiotic idea. This is what Harry does. He plays games. He tricks and he ruins and if you open this door, you know you’ll regret it.

“Poppy, please,” he calls, and you hear his forehead land on the wood as though to brace himself. “I’ve tried everything else, okay? It always works with you. I just…I wanted to try. See if it still does.”

You frown. “You realize how wildly inappropriate this is, right? Asking if you can come in just so we can sleep together?”

“Yeah, but that’s all I want to do. Sleep,” he insists again. “Really. I’ll keep my hands to myself and I won’t even talk to you.”

You consider this. Truthfully, you haven’t slept all that well since the breakup, either. And sure, you’ve longed for the nights when the two of you would fall into such an easy, simple, and incredibly effective routine.

But he broke your heart. And now you’re both paying the price.

“Just one night,” he pleads again. “And if it doesn’t work, I swear I won’t bother you ever again.”

There’s a subtle ache in your chest. Just hearing his voice reminds you of the pain. Of the joy. Of every good moment and every bad one, all wrapped up in the same silky cadence.

You take a deep breath. Perhaps you’re curious, too. Even if you don’t want to be. Because maybe this will work. Maybe you’ll finally be able to rest and get on with your life.

Or maybe it won’t.

But at least if it doesn’t, maybe you can find some closure.

So, with that thought…you open the door.

He looks worse than you’ve ever seen him. Which makes you just a touch happy if you’re being honest with yourself. His usual curls are askew and unkept. The bags under his eyes are dark and his clothes are wildly wrinkled.

And you’re surprised. He’s been up for longer than 32 hours before and handled it much better. You wonder if his age is catching up with him or if there’s something else keeping him awake.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

But you don’t fight with him. He’s not here to fight and you accept his terms as you widen the door and allow him to step inside.

He nods gratefully as he slips into your living room, but his eyes linger on your face. Almost like he doesn’t recognize you, and it makes your insides turn as you shut the door and put a few feet between you.

“What?” you huff.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, you look…different.”

“Okay…?”

“You changed your hair.”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. It’s nice.”

You cross your arms. “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Another pause, and the silence feels heavy.

“Well…do you wanna…?” you eventually say, and he nods.

“Right, yeah.”

“Okay.”

You turn to lead him to your room and it’s…unsettling how normal it feels. Like an old habit rearing its ugly head once again.

When you get there, his surprise returns. “You changed your room, too.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Why?”

Your eyes roll as you angrily toss your blankets back. “This is the one room I associated with you the most. And short of moving, I needed something you hadn’t touched or tainted. So I made the room mine again.”

He thinks about this, attention lingering on the new paint on the walls and the new furniture in each corner. “I like it.”

“I don’t care.”

He smiles. “I know.”

“Great. Can you get in the bed please so we can get this over with?”

Obliging, he slips off his shoes and joins you under the duvet. “Never thought I’d hear you say that again.”

“Never thought I’d have to say it.”

“Mm. You changed your mattress.”

“Obviously.”

“And the sheets and blankets, too.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is there anything in here you didn’t change?”

“The carpet. But only because my landlord said I couldn’t.”

“Right.” He’s smiling again. “But you did get a rug.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice.”

“Bite me.”

He laughs now and you want to smack him. “I see you still get grumpy when you’re tired.”

“No, I get grumpy when my asshole of an ex shows up to my apartment at 3 in the morning demanding to be let in so he can sleep in my bed with me like a fucking child,” you argue. And you know you’re being snippy and maybe even rude, but he deserves it. After everything he’s put you through, you deserve to be in charge of your own emotions.

You turn the lamp off and the dark room grows incredibly quiet. You’re both stiff, unable to relax when you’re this close. You don’t want to touch—not the way you used to. And you don’t want to be close or let your guard down, although you suppose you’ll have to in order to sleep.

And then he says, “I really did try, you know. To find another way to sleep.”

You look up at the ceiling and release a soft exhale. “Okay.”

“Melatonin, light therapy, cut out coffee. Even drank those…sleep mocktail things everyone talks about.” He shifts. “I don’t know, I guess my brain just wouldn’t turn off.”

“Yeah. I know.”

More quiet.

“I haven’t done any since we broke up,” he finally says. Gentle, like he’s afraid to break the silence.

Your lashes flutter. He doesn’t have to say it for you to know what he means. “Great.”

“Yeah.” Another beat. “I thought it was work, I guess. Maybe the stress or something. I’ve been sleeping fine, but these past couple weeks…”

“Right.”

“And I just figured—”

“No, I got it. It’s fine, let’s just…let’s just try to sleep,” you say and he nods.

The bedroom settles and you try, you really do. But you can’t when he’s breathing so goddamn loud and shifting every two seconds and sighing like he’s in pain.

“What?” you eventually hiss.

“Are you dating someone?” he asks.

“What?”

“Are you dating someone?” he repeats. “Josie said you were.”

You hesitate. “I don’t know. Kind of. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“We’re…we’ve been on a few dates. It’s not official.”

“He hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend?”

“Why does it matter?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t. I just figure you deserve someone that actually wants to date you.”

“Oh, do I?” You roll your head to look at him. “Funny, you didn’t seem to think so when you were dating me.”

“All right, touché,” he mumbles. “I could have been better, I know that. And I know I took advantage. You did a lot for me and I didn’t…I didn’t care.”

Surprised, you twist your fingers together. “Uh…yeah. Right. Thank you.”

His head rolls, too. And even with the dim-light, his eyes find yours. “I’m sorry, Poppy. You really did deserve better than me. And if you found it with this guy…I’ll be happy for you.”

You swallow before sighing to yourself. “I mean, I don’t know if I did. He’s…he’s really nice. But he’s so…he’s just…”

“Vanilla?”

Your eyes widen. “Yeah. How did you��”

“He was wearing Crocs with tube socks.”

You laugh—loud. “Oh my god, how did you know?”

“I might have looked him up,” he admits through a grin. “Wanted to make sure he was worth your time.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And he wears Crocs with tube socks. He can’t make you cum.”

Your features scrunch together as you gasp and look away. “Ew, Harry. It’s not about that—”

“It’s always about that. Come on, am I wrong?”

“You—yes. What he wears has nothing to do with what he’s like in bed—”

“So he’s not vanilla?”

“He’s…” You pause. “He…look, he really tries—”

“So, he is,” Harry finishes for you. “Well, at least you got some.”

“I…yeah. Uh-huh.”

Instantly, he turns onto his side, head resting in the palm of his hand as he studies you. “He couldn’t get it up, could he?”

“Harry,” you groan, and reach out to swat him. “Stop, it wasn’t that. We just…we were taking things slow. We did some stuff. Just not…all of it.”

“So what he’d do?”

“Harry—”

“Come on, we’re adults, just tell me.”

“Ew, no—”

“Listen, you used to get fucked good. I’m just trying to help you get back to that.”

You frown but do oblige. “I don’t know. He ate me out and I blew him. That’s it.”

“And…?”

“And…I don’t know. He was fine. He was good.”

“Sure.”

Your eyes roll. “Okay, he…he wasn’t really all that into it. He stopped after a few seconds and asked if I came. Then he said his jaw was tired and that maybe we should just switch.”

Now, Harry’s features scrunch, too. “Shit. What a fucking pussy. Ironically.”

“I guess. It could have been worse.”

“Really? Eating you out was always my favorite. What kind of asshole just stops if he doesn’t have to?”

You feel a rush of heat through your body as you look away. “I guess they can’t all be you.”

“Damn fucking right,” he scoffs. “Seriously, you still wanted to see him after that?”

“He’s cute,” you argue. “And nice. And yeah, maybe he’s not that adventurous but that’s okay. I don’t need wild sex all the time.”

He’s quiet. “How about just one time?”

You turn back. “What?”

“I—okay, I was just thinking…you know, one of the things we would do when we couldn’t sleep was…fuck, so—”

“Oh, absolutely not.” You sit up, as though to put some distance between you. “No. Forget it—”

“Poppy—”

“Don’t call me that,” you huff. “You don’t get to call me that ever again. Okay, I’m not gonna fuck you just so we can sleep—”

“It wouldn’t be just for that,” he argues, sitting up as well. “It would also help your mood, too—”

“Oh, my mood?” You glare at him. “My mood is just fine, actually. In fact, I’d say it’s pretty good if I agreed to let you in my apartment in the first place—”

“You didn’t have to. I’m just saying, if sex with him is gonna be bland, might as well get in one last good fuck before you commit to a lifetime of boring—”

“Oh, my god. It’s not a lifetime and you’re a fucking asshole—”

“Yeah. We’ve established that. Doesn’t change the fact that you need it.”

You stare at him. “Is that why you’re really here? To trick me into sleeping with you?”

He leans back. “What? No. I don’t trick people into having sex, it was just a suggestion—”

“Yeah, a pretty dumb one. Did you honestly think I’d say yes?”

“Yeah,” he admits haughtily. “Yeah, because we didn’t break up over the sex. We broke up because you’re an uptight—”

“What? Say it,” you sneer. “Say it. I’m an uptight bitch because I wouldn’t let you do cocaine.”

He scoffs again and looks off into the dark of your room. The argument lulls. “I could never do anything right.”

“That wasn’t the problem and you know it.” You pull your legs to your chest. “I wanted to move forward and you kept going back. You’re almost 30 and you still act like you’re 19.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to get married and do the whole white picket fence life,” he says. “Maybe I liked things the way they were—”

“No. No, you liked parties with your friends and doing drugs that kept you up for hours and getting fired and leaving me to pay all the bills—”

“You didn’t pay all the bills and I told you I would do what I could to help—”

“Yeah. But apparently that included getting fucked up and staying out all night just to crash the next day.” You study him closely. “You were never around anymore. I never saw you. We were on two different paths and the only time we ever talked was when you asked if I wanted to fuck.”

“So, that’s it, huh? I’m just a villain in your story. You were this perfect fucking princess, and I was a monster that ruined your life?”

“No, obviously not. I wasn’t perfect. I know that.”

“Do you?” His eyes flick between yours. “You didn’t want me to move forward with you. You liked your new job and your new friends because they didn’t remind you of me. Of who we both used to be.”

“So? I’m not proud of what I used to do. And sure, maybe I wanted to make a better impression on the people paying my salary and keeping me employed. Is that such a fucking crime?”

“No. But you didn’t want me to be a part of that impression and you know it.”

“Right. Because you were shit-faced all the time.”

He opens his mouth, ready to retort. But then he closes it. He closes it and he stares at you and then…he surges forward.

Even if you were given at least two seconds to prepare, you’re not prepared for the way his hands feel on your cheeks as he kisses you. As he presses his lips to yours and steals the labored breaths in your lungs.

But you don’t fight him. You know you should. Know you should push him off and berate him. Yet you let him kiss you. And you kiss him back. And it’s far too easy to slip back into this routine as his tongue slides against yours in such a teasing way.

Your stomach flips while your hands land on his lap. You’re desperate to be closer, to feel his body against yours. His skin, and the way it melts beneath your palms like butter. You dance this devious dance and before you know it, you’re stripping each other of the few clothes you have.

He starts with your shirt. Ripping it over your head before his mouth lands on your chest. Bare and beautiful to him. His kisses are wet and sloppy and you arch yourself closer as you drag your fingers down his scalp.

The only reason he stops is to let you peel his t-shirt off, too. And then his jeans and socks. And you move so fluidly, you’re nearly naked in under a minute. The only thing left between you now his underwear and yours.

He lays you down, gentle. Surprisingly gentle, given the anger that brought you here. And he gazes at you in a soft, unspoken way that says everything you don’t exactly know how to say.

His fingers brush down your cheek as his body settles atop yours. He still fits between your legs like he was always meant to and the weight of him almost feels good.

“Are you all right?” he finally whispers, and he doesn’t sound like the same man from before. He sounds like the man you fell in love with. “Is this okay?”

You nod quickly, scared that if you think about it, you’ll ruin it. “Yeah. Go.”

He doesn’t. “We don’t have to,” he says. “You were right, it’s probably a dumb idea—”

“Yeah, but…it always works.” You shift beneath him and reach for his briefs, rolling them down his hips. “And I’m tired. Tired of fighting with you, tired of not getting any sleep…tired of pretending I hate you. You were right, our sex is good. So let’s do it. And then we can sleep. And we can finally move on.”

Not the most romantic of speeches, but it works. At least right now. He kisses you again and drags your underwear aside in order to tease you with the tip of his cock.

He feels like you remember. And maybe you find just a touch of comfort in that. There are no awkward pauses or confusion about what to do next. You don’t have to find your rhythm or anticipate the next step. You know him. And he knows you.

Your rub your clit in order to stimulate yourself. You aren’t exactly wet enough for this to be enjoyable, but you don’t expect him to do what he did before. The foreplay is up to you now and you’re more than all right with that.

However, he’s not. And he instantly swats your hand away in order to do it himself. Allowing his fingers to drag up and down your pussy until you shiver before he slips the tip of his middle finger inside.

“Shit,” he whispers. His forehead drops to yours. “Fucking missed this.”

You bite the inside of your lip to keep from grinning. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He starts to pump, bending your body to his salacious intentions until the unmistakable sound of wetness echoes throughout the room. “I know you missed it, too.”

“Hm. Don’t push it.”

“Why not?” He presses a kiss to your cheek. Then to your jaw. Your lips. Your nose. Your neck. Everywhere you used to love. “Are you really gonna tell me you didn’t?”

“Maybe.”

“So Crocs with Tube Socks is better, huh?”

“…not exactly.”

“Right.” He adds a second finger and your eyes roll back. “Don’t worry, Poppy, I’ll fix it.”

“Don’t…call me that,” you pant again, and he chuckles.

“Don’t know what else to call you. You were always my pretty Poppy.”

“But now I’m not,” you say. “Now you call me nothing. Because I’m not yours to call.”

He sighs but does seem to obey, at least for now. And the faster he thrusts his hand, the needier this growing feeling becomes. Stronger and louder until you finally grab onto his shoulders and say, “Just put it in already.”

He smirks. “How romantic.”

“It’s not supposed to be. Just come on.”

So, he does. He takes hold of his cock and he slips it through the gathering arousal until he can push in. And you both reel.

Truthfully, you’ve missed the sounds he makes when he’s turned on. The way he groans and grits his teeth together. The way the muscles in his arms strain until you can see those beautiful veins you used to love to run your tongue over.

He’s stunning. Even now, in the soft light of the moon through your curtains. His silhouette is unholy as it hovers above you. Strong hips beginning to thrust as you both work in tandem to find release.

And it’s closer than you expected. There’s something about him that can get you there even without much effort. Something Crocs with Tube Socks could never seem to figure out.

Because he’s not Harry. And only Harry can play you like an instrument and make such symphonic music all with the flick of his finger and a thrust of his cock.

He kisses you again and you both feel anxious. Soft murmurings of praise and, “Keep going,” that have you arching from the bed and moaning into his mouth.

You’re sweating and gasping for air and clutching onto his back as you attempt to meet his rhythm with rolls of your own. You need this. You need to cum so you can find release and you need to cum so you can finally sleep and you need to cum because then you’ll finally be able to let him go. To close the door on the chapter of you and Harry and move the fuck on.

But how can you move on when you’re still under him? How can you insist that you’re fine and doing great if you’re so easily convinced to fuck him just so you can both get some sleep?

There are other remedies to insomnia that don’t involve his cock and maybe you should have tried that before you let him into your apartment.

Either way, you’re coming before you can think twice about it. Raking your nails down his back and whimpering his name as he pulls out and finishes on your thigh.

And just like that…

It’s over.

You find him in the kitchen about an hour later. You managed to sleep at least a few minutes before you felt the sadistic hand of insomnia pull you back out. But when you woke, Harry was gone. His clothes were still on the floor, so you knew he hadn’t left. But he wasn’t with you.

He’s staring out your kitchen window when you slip into the living room. You’re not sure if he hears you or not but if he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he keeps himself braced against the sink, clad in nothing more than his briefs.

Curious, you call, “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. Silent. Contemplative. “I used to love this window,” he eventually says. Soft, like he’s reminiscing. “The way the light looked in the morning. The way your little crystals would put rainbows on the wall and you’d get so excited. How you’d make me dance with you to some Elton John song while we were literally in the middle of cooking.”

You blink. “Um…okay.”

He turns and his eyes find yours. “I fucking loved this apartment. And this kitchen. And that couch. And your room. And even the hallway. I loved being here, all the time. I hated going back to my place because it never felt the same.”

The silence grows louder now as you look down at your feet and pull your robe just a bit tighter. “I know,” you finally whisper. “That’s why I changed it.”

“I know,” he whispers back. His expression falls. “You changed everything. This apartment, your life…us.”

“Because I had to,” you argue, glancing back up. “I had to, Harry. I couldn’t keep going in circles. I couldn’t drag you along behind me into the future when you clearly wanted to be anywhere else.”

“Because the future you always painted didn’t seem to have room for me,” he huffs. “Okay, with all these dinner parties and fancy houses and good school districts. You’d planned out the next 30 years and I didn’t see myself anywhere in your picture.”

“I didn’t fucking care about the parties or the school districts,” you nearly yell. “God, I—I didn’t want the white picket fence life. I didn’t want the 1950’s American Dream shit you keep thinking I did. I just wanted you. Yes, I wanted a good job with insurance and stability. But I wasn’t gonna trade what we had just for that—”

“But you did. You didn’t tell your parents we’d moved in together. You didn’t even tell half of our friends. You went on trips without me and you stopped telling me about your day and we never talked—”

“Because you were never around! You were either out with your friends getting drunk or high or you were in there playing video games because you’d had a ‘hard day.’ So, no. I didn’t want to talk to you when I knew you weren’t even listening in the first place.”

He leans against the counter and crosses his arms. Angry. Indignant. “You resented me. You resented the fact that we were together and you resented that I wasn’t perfect like your precious new friends—”

“Oh, that’s—” You pinch the bridge of your nose and force in a deep breath. “No. I didn’t want you to be like them. I didn’t want you to act pretentious and stuffy and talk about the stock market every goddamn second of the day. The only thing I resented…was the fact that you wouldn’t take care of yourself.”

“I was taking care of myself—”

“Bullshit. You were doing drugs—you were doing cocaine—and you weren’t eating, you weren’t sleeping, you nearly drunk yourself to death—”

“Right, but I wasn’t doing it all the time. It was just…it was occasionally, and it wasn’t a lot—”

“I don’t care. You shouldn’t have been doing it at all, Harry,” you finally shout. “You…you scared the shit out of me. Every time one of your friends would call and say you were passed out, I thought…I thought this was it. I thought I was gonna lose you. Do you know how many times I just sat on the floor and cried because I was so scared? Because you never wanted to listen when I told you to stop? Because you were so sure you were invincible?”

He seems pained by this, features wilting as he takes a tentative step forward. But he stops when you move back. “Poppy, I wasn’t trying to scare you, I…I didn’t know—”

“Yes, you did,” you scoff. “I told you, over and over that I didn’t want to lose you, but you thought I was being dramatic.”

He nods once. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. I am.” He looks at you. “S’why I stopped after we broke up. You were right, I needed to get my shit together.”

You nod, too. “Good. I’m glad.”

His gaze dances around the kitchen. “I hate that you changed everything,” he says again, and your heart wrenches. “I hate that it doesn’t look like it used to. I hate that I hurt you so bad that you felt like you had to erase everything I ever touched.”

You step closer and wipe a tear from your cheek. “Yeah, I hate it, too. I hate that I had to. I hate that stupid mattress and I hate that my kitchen doesn’t look like a rainbow anymore and I really fucking hate that I have no one to dance with when I cook.”

His eyes soften as they find yours and in only a few seconds, he’s reaching for the belt on your robe and tugging you to him. Wrapping you in his arms as he presses you against his chest, the way he always used to when you were sad.

“No,” you argue weakly, although you do nothing to stop him. “No, you can’t…you can’t—”

“Yes, I can,” he retorts quietly. You feel his lips press to the top of your head. “You don’t get to cry over me anymore. You’re better than that now. You did what I couldn’t. You moved on. And I don’t get to ruin that for you.”

You sniffle as you run your hand down his stomach. “It wasn’t about moving on. I just needed to learn how to be strong enough for both of us.”

“Poppy,” he breathes and holds you tighter. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

And deep down…you know he’s right.

“Shit, just like that…a little closer. Good girl, hold yourself open for me, baby. Yeah.”

Doing your best to oblige, you slip your fingers between your folds as Harry nudges his nose closer. Kissing his way along your thighs before allowing his tongue to lick a very generous stripe up your pussy.

Round 2 is on the couch. Harry wanted the kitchen counter—nearly insisted on it, in fact—but you knew you didn’t want to ruin your favorite breakfast spot. And you weren’t about to just for him.

So, the couch it was. He complained about it as you got settled. He hates this new couch, too. The color, the lumpy cushions, the way it feels like you’re sinking when you sit.

You told him you didn’t care. You loved it and if it annoyed him, that was a bonus.

Thankfully, he swallowed his complaints in favor of swallowing you. He tossed your robe open and pulled your thighs apart. And then he buried himself between the warmth of your pussy the way he always used to.

And you decided that maybe you don’t mind insomnia so much if this is the remedy.

“Missed this, too,” he says now as he nips at your clit. “God, you’ve always tasted so fucking good. S’fucking crazy, baby. Can’t ever get enough.”

“Sure,” you snort, head dropping back. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls—”

“No.” He shakes his head and his nose nudges the sensitive nerves as you whine. “No, there’s no other girls. Come on, did you really think there could be?”

“With a mouth like that? Yeah,” you admit. He laughs. “That’s how we met. You were such—fuck—such a player.”

“Maybe,” he concedes before mouthing at you again. “But nobody else has ever made me feel the way you do.”

You snort. “Where’d you learn that line?”

“It’s not a line. It’s the truth.”

“Harry. Come on. I know you.”

“Then you should know I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” He smooths his palms down your thighs in order to spread you just a bit further and see the way your hole flutters. “Oh, pretty girl. S’just drenched, hm? All sensitive from the last one…need Daddy to make it better?”

You scrunch your nose. “You don’t get to call yourself that anymore.”

“No?” He grins. “Why not?”

“Because I hate you and Daddy is reserved for someone I like.”

He tsks. “I don’t know, kind of seems like you still like it. Keep clenching around my tongue like you wanna hear me say it again.”

You hesitate as you weave your fingers through his curls. “Never.”

He hums and the vibration against your cunt makes your thighs twitch. “Come on, baby. Don’t be mean to Daddy.”

You want to glare. Slap at him, refuse him. But he’s right—you have missed the moniker. If only just because of how good he sounds when he says it. So, you let him tease you and taunt you as he tastes you. You let him do whatever the hell he wants because your second orgasm feels stronger than the first and you don’t imagine you’ll survive this one.

He slips a finger in as well. Beckons your pleasure closer with every curl of the large digit. It’s practiced. He sucks and licks and nips and thrusts and curls and pumps all at the same time.

Then, he pulls back and brings his palm down in a sharp smack to your pussy.

“Stop squirming,” he instructs, then shoots you an obviously pleased frown. “Don’t be a brat.”

“M’not,” you whimper. “Not a brat…just wanna cum.”

“Do you, hm?” He licks you again then adds two fingers. “Should I let you?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously?” He’s smirking now as he starts to go faster. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you do deserve it. Yeah? After being so nice as to let me in.”

You pout. “Mhm.”

He’s so happy. He’s always his happiest when he’s suffocating himself with your pussy. He does everything he knows you love. He leaves teasing kisses to the inside of your thighs. He slaps at your leg, your clit, your hip. He helps rock you against his tongue and even lifts you from the couch to find a deeper angle.

And he does all of this out of sheer enjoyment.

“Harry,” you whimper as you melt into the cushions. Your limbs feel like jello. The pleasure is everywhere, and he looks like a god. His face is covered in you, glistening about as bright as the stars.

“I know, Poppy,” he says. He kisses your pussy and then smiles at you. “I know.”

You like the way Harry’s chest feels. Warm and soft and painted in the tattoos you used to trace with your finger.

He’s gently scratching your back as you both lay in bed. The room is quiet—you haven’t spoken in minutes. Still, neither of you can seem to find sleep and you know you’ll desperately need it soon.

But this is nice. Even if it is the last time. You like getting to reminisce—pretend for even a moment that things are the way they used to be. When you were happy and safe and content to be together.

You weren’t sure you’d ever feel this kind of peace again.

“I missed you, too, you know,” he whispers after a moment.

You glance up.

“I didn’t just miss your apartment. I missed you.” He takes a breath and runs his palm along your spine. “I miss our Sunday mornings and I miss when we’d watch scary movies just so we could make out and I miss the way you used to dance around in your underwear to some stupid musical you were obsessed with.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “Har…”

“And I don’t know what happened,” he says. “I felt like…I felt like I was watching you do all these amazing things and I just couldn’t keep up. You were getting promoted and moving up and I was still at the fucking bar serving drinks. And you knew what you wanted to do. I didn’t.”

“I didn’t know,” you argue gently. “Not really. I hate my job. I hate that I don’t enjoy it the way I used to. I mean, I like that it pays the bills, but maybe that shouldn’t be enough.”

He presses his cheek to the top of your head. “You should do what makes you happy.”

“You used to make me happy.”

The soft strokes against your spine slow.

“You did, Har,” you tell him. “So happy. That’s why I hated that we started fighting all of the time. I hated that you were gone or that I was gone or the fact that I was too ashamed to tell you that I missed you. And that I was scared we were losing each other.”

“Maybe we needed to lose each other,” he says and you feel sick. “Maybe we needed to be apart to see what we really wanted.”

You think about this. The idea sounds nice. Inviting. A happy end to a rather dreadful story.

But you both know better. Five months has taught you better.

“There’s a reason we broke up,” you finally murmur. “We didn’t…we didn’t like each other anymore. We were holding each other back—”

“I liked you,” he says softly. “I loved you. Yeah, I was mad, but I didn’t just stop loving you.”

“Maybe you should have. Maybe it would have been easier for us and we wouldn’t be…here.”

More silence. It stretches for what feels like hours.

And then, “I can’t sleep because of you.”

You suck in a quiet breath. “What?”

“When Josie told me that you were seeing someone, I couldn’t…I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And she showed me a picture she took of you guys and you were so happy. Smiling at him like you used to smile at me and I just…I didn’t know what to do.”

Another pause. You don’t know what to say.

“I put my fist through a wall,” he tells you. “And somehow, that still didn’t hurt as much as knowing you’d moved on.”

You snake your arm around his middle and snuggle closer. “Harry, you knew we both had to move on eventually.”

“Did we?”

“Harry…”

“But so soon? It’s only been five months.”

“Yeah. Five months to grieve you and cry over you and realize I did this for you.” You close your eyes. Tight. “We’re better people now.”

“No, we’re tired people now,” he teases, and you smile. “And I think I’ll be losing sleep over you for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I mean it. I’m always gonna think about you. Think about what I did wrong. What I could have done better.”

“I fucked up, too,” you argue. “I should have told my parents. And our friends. I should have talked to you more, asked you to do more things together. You’re right, I was ashamed of you. Of this…routine we’d fallen into. And I’m sorry.”

He says nothing. After all, there’s nothing more to say.

But he kisses the crown of your head and it speaks louder than any words.

“Fuck…fuck, Poppy, please—”

You grin as you lick your lips. He’s always sounded the most beautiful when he’s begging. And his best begging always tends to happen when his cock is down your throat.

“What, Daddy?” you ask innocently. “What do you need me to do?”

His eyes roll back and he grips the sheets in his fist. “Please…”

You reposition yourself over his legs as you dip back down to have another taste. You lick and you suck and you stroke until he’s making another strained noise that sounds like sex.

You hope your neighbors can hear. You bet they missed him.

“Good boy,” you purr, squeezing his thighs as you take him even further.

He sucks in a sharp breath through gritted teeth before his hand finds your hair and he squeezes. “Easy…easy, baby. S’been a while. Don’t hurt yourself—”

You respond to his instruction by inhaling through your nose and relaxing the muscles in your throat. Allowing him to hit the back the way he always used to.

His head drops into the pillows. “Shit—Poppy, I mean it. M’not gonna fuck your throat. It’s gonna hurt and I don’t wanna hurt you anymore.”

It’s an oddly thoughtful gesture but it does nothing for you now. Instead, you shake your head and pull off, a string of saliva dripping down his cock in your wake. “I’m fine, H. Trust me, I can take it.”

“Yeah?” He pushes up onto his elbows. “Is Crocs with Tube Socks hung or something?”

You grin. “No. But that dildo you got me last year is.”

He blinks. “You…fucking hell, you fuck your throat with that?”

“Mhm.” You swirl your tongue around his tip as he curses. “And then I fuck myself. And I pretend it’s you.”

He tightens his hold on your hair and forces your eyes back to his. “Are you serious?”

You nod, now feeling a touch shy as you wipe your mouth with your knuckles. “Yeah…I know that’s…probably weird, but…I mean, you got it for me, so I thought I’d be weirder to think about someone else—”

“No, it’s…” He stops. Struggles. “Shit, I really needed to hear that.”

“Oh, you did, huh?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t want you to think about anyone else when you used it, either. It’s got my fucking initials on it.”

You laugh, louder than you mean to and it makes him grin. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? It was a pretty good gift, I’ll admit.”

“S’a fucking perfect gift,” he retorts. “We had a lot of fun with that dildo.”

“We did indeed.”

“But apparently not as much fun as you’re having with it.”

“Fucking myself helps me sleep,” you remind him. “So sometimes it’s necessity.”

“Is that right?”

“Mhm.” You squeeze the base and he twitches. “You used to watch me. Remember?”

“I do.” His eyes get darker. “Do you fuck yourself a lot?”

“…these days, yeah. Apparently, I can’t sleep all that well, either.”

“And does it work?”

“Most of the time, yeah.” You turn your attention back to his cock in order to avoid his curiosity before you quietly admit, “Sometimes I pretend you’re here. Sleeping next to me. And…that helps, too.”

He reaches for your wrist and pulls your attention back. “Poppy—”

“No, don’t look at me like that, it’s dumb—”

“I imagine you, too.”

You blink. “You do?”

“Every night. Except the past couple weeks. Cause now I just think about you and him. And then I can’t fucking sleep.”

You turn your hand so your fingers brush through his. “Shit. We’re a mess.”

He smiles. “Yeah.”

The conversation falls away as you dip back down to resume your work. Squeezing his balls, moaning as you take him on your tongue, and milking him for every last drop.

Turns out, you missed the taste of him, too.

Morning comes before either of you find a moment of rest. But you can feel yourself growing tired. Your eyelids are beginning to droop, and your body feels incredibly spent.

Turns out, round 4 is where the magic happened. He brought out your favorite vibrator and teased your poor, swollen clit with it until you squirted. It was easy and quick and he seemed rather delighted to be bathed in you.

Until, of course, you insist on an actual bath to clean you both.

The shower felt good. The warm water washing away the sticky sweat on your skin. And the two of you fell back into a similar routine. He ran the soap down your arms and you washed his curls with your favorite shampoo. A shampoo he claimed he looked everywhere for after you broke up but could never find.

He said he missed the smell. The way it made his hair so soft. And the way it would make his pillowcase smell just like you.

You were grateful that the shower hid your tears.

You both crashed on the couch after you had dried off. The sheets still needed to be cleaned and neither of you could be bothered. But, as it turned out, the couch was growing on him. And he begrudgingly admitted it was rather comfy as the two of you curled up in your usual spot.

You know you’re both close to sleep. Finally, after all your efforts to get here. But you also know that once you wake up, Harry will leave.

And there’s a chance you won’t see him again.

You know that nothing has changed. The two of you still want different things, even if you want each other. And you hate that that’s not enough. That what you want and what you should want don’t align.

Instead, he’ll move on with his life and you’ll move on with yours.

But you don’t want to learn how to fall asleep without him.

“Make me a deal,” you whisper.

He hums. Lashes shut tight as the morning light slips in through the window. “What?”

“If I wake up, and you’re still here…we do this again. Not…as a couple. But as two broken humans that find rest with each other.”

His eyes open.

“But if you’re gone,” you continue, “then we don’t. We don’t do it again, we don’t see each other again, we don’t reach out again. We cut ties. Officially. Block and move on. For real.”

He seems saddened by this, and you hate that you’ve made him sad. But you both know it’s for the best. This won’t be sustainable in the long run. And maybe it’s a bad idea to continue at all, but maybe you want to hold on to him anyway. At least for a little while.

Even if it’s just as friends.

Exes.

Two broken humans that used to make each other whole.

His lips press together and he nods once. “Deal,” he agrees, and you can tell by the look on his face, he’s already made a decision.

You aren’t sure which way, but you suppose you’ll find out soon enough. So, you allow your eyes to fall shut and your dreams to take hold. Melting into his arms and into the sofa as you finally find sleep quicker than you have in months.

You’re not sure how long you’re out. It feels like hours. A heavy slumber that leaves you rather refreshed as your eyes eventually flutter open.

You don’t see Harry as you slowly adjust to your surroundings. And you don’t feel him, either. But you’re too afraid to really look. To sit up and realize that he’s gone. For good.

And then, just when you think you’ve lost him…you hear the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Good morning, Poppy.”

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry

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dante-mightdie · 21 days

Note

MORE ANGST.

Like, okay, more angst for reader, but I need some angst for 141. Like PLEASE.

So, the reader, frustrated (mentally and physically), decides to take things onto their own hands. If they treat them as if they don't exist, so will they. It starts simple. They don't greet them good morning and goodbye anymore, when the team would only offer a grunt or nod of acknowledgment. Reader doesn't ask them to hang out, or to join into their plans. They start living for themselves, not quite leaving them, more like treating the four men like roommates. Whenever one would initiate intimacy, reader would slip away, offering some lame excuse. At the same time, just an hour later, they'd see a glimpse of reader, all dressed up and pretty, not bothering to let them know where they'd be going as they run out the front door, only to be heared from a couple of hours later. Stumbling through the front door with a second pair of footsteps following suit, and a hearty male laugh. The apartment was as much reader's as it was the boys' so it should be normal they brought someone home ... but was this what the task force 141 though?

changed it ever so slightly but I love this yes

c/w: poly!141, mentions of emotional neglect, alcohol, intoxication

you got the idea after scrolling through social media, rotting away in bed had become a common routine for you. an advertisement had popped up for a bar that opened up a few months ago, you remember asking johnny and kyle to go with you but they were too busy at the time

it looked like a nice enough place. not like the dive bars in camden that simon takes you to, or those annoying ass scotch bars in canary wharf that john insists on ‘introducing’ you to. as if you’ve never had a glass of scotch before. the memory makes you scoff to yourself

surprisingly, it doesn’t take much to convince yourself to just… go. if they won’t go with you, there’s no reason why you can’t convince yourself. they were too busy ignoring you to notice you’d be gone anyway. so, you drag yourself out of bed and rifle through the wardrobe for something to wear

looking good really does make you feel good, you say to yourself when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror once you were ready. you’d decided on a fitted black dress with a pair of black strapped heels. they wouldn’t notice but you added a bit of detail to the outfit

if they did notice that every piece of jewellery was a piece they had bought for you, it would fucking burn. the diamond skull-shaped studs that simon got you, the vintage locket that john had found for you when he was deployed, and the anklet that kyle had grabbed from some fancy jewellery store on oxford street paired with the stunning ring that johnny found at a local market in scotland

you took a deep breath and held your head high before grabbing your purse. when you entered the front room, all conversation stopped as usual. but only because they were too busy eyeing you up and down, “where’re you goin’ dressed like that?”

you roll your eyes when john speaks up, not even stopping to respond. a curt ‘out’ leaving your lips as you walk out the front door and slam it loudly. the boys all looked at each other, shifting in their seats uncomfortably at the interaction

john narrowed his eyes as he glared at the front door. he didn’t like not knowing where you were. even if you didn’t know it, john always knew about your whereabouts

the bar was nice, nice enough for you to drink your feelings away in. in your head, you imagined flirting with anyone just to make the boys jealous. but every time someone approached you, it just filled you with more sadness. perhaps a part of you just wanted the boys to grab you, persuade you to stay with sweet words and gentle kisses like they used to do when you looked this good

it was a few hours past midnight when you finally returned, simon awakened by the sounds of giggling outside and your keys jangling in the door. he didn’t plan on getting out of bed until he heard a male voice speaking along side yours

he stalked down the stairs, following the sounds of your heels stumbling until he found you in the front room. you were drunk out of your fucking mind with some random bloke holding you up. simon’s fists clenched at his side and he decided to make his presence known

“better take your hand off her before you fuckin’ lose it, mate.” he spits, taking a step closer to yank you from the man’s grip. you squeak and stumble from the harsh tug, landing right against simon’s bulky frame as he holds on to your arm to keep you steady

the man takes a step back, holding his hands up in surrender. “woah, i’m not here to cause any trouble. was just making sure she got home safe. my colleague over served her and she said her roommates were too busy to pick her up.”

simon clenches his jaw, keeping his gaze on the man and just waiting for him to step out of line. he doesn’t even notice that the others have climbed out of bed too, coming downstairs to hear what the commotion is about

he turns his head only to shove you into price’s arms, squaring his shoulders as he stares the bartender down. “well, our girl is home and safe now so you best be on your way.”

“relax, mate. she’s really not my type. that one there is more my type.” the bartender chuckles, nodding his head towards soap before turning around and walking out the door but not before giving you a goodbye

price steadies your body against him, already getting an idea of the kind of drunken state that you’re in. he lifts your basically limp body into his arms before carrying you up to bed but he doesn’t take you to the spare room. he takes you to what you have recently come to know as their room

“had a bit too much, princess?” he chuckles, placing you down on the bed. you look at him confused before letting your head fall to the pillow

“‘m still your princess?” you mumble into the fabric. price frowns slightly, turning his head to look at the boys before making work on taking your heels off

“course. you always have been.” he mumbles. you respond with a small hum before completely passing out against the sheets…

#mw2 #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #captain john price #john price #john price x reader #ghost x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader

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kentopedia · 1 month

Text

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ SAFEGUARD — dazai, chuuya, akutagawa

summary . . . they save you after you've been injured and captured by an enemy.

contents . . . sfw, f!reader (chuuya & dazai) and gn!reader (akutagawa), violence / blood, threats, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, and it's pmboss!dazai bc i can't help myself — 3.5k total

notes . . . i got this request so long ago lol. not my best work, but i have been in the worst writing slump ever and just wanted to finish something. i've also never written for akutagawa before so pls be nice <3

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 . . .

there are very few times that chuuya feels he’s been outsmarted. he knows he’s not the mastermind of the port mafia, but he certainly isn’t a fool. when it comes to you and your well-being, though, his mind short-circuits, half of his intelligence draining away while his emotions take hold.

your relationship isn’t a secret to anyone in the port mafia, which means that it isn’t a secret to your enemies either. and while most people know it’s hard to land a finger on chuuya directly, his pretty little girlfriend doesn’t have the power of a god nestled inside of her.

the rage sparks through him, growing fiercely into the blaze of a forest fire, until all he can think of is getting you home safely. he thinks of your sweet smile as he rips the door of the enemies’ base off the hinges, crushing it into a million pieces with the force of gravity.

the men are quick to react, but chuuya hurtles the crushed door towards them, knocking three of them to their feet. another group charges at him, but their guns do little against his skill. after years of fighting some of the strongest ability users, simple criminal organizations are as easy to step over like ants.

chuuya kills them all — except for one.

the man’s knees are wobbling, hand shaking around the gun as he realizes that these will be his final moments. there is fear in his eyes, brown ones that rest wide open, and chuuya almost hesitates. his remorse doesn’t last long, though, before he’s wrapping a hand around the man’s throat, thrusting him backwards.

“where is she?” chuuya asks, voice sharp and commanding.

he can feel the man swallowing.

chuuya knows that backup is probably on the way, but it won’t matter whether they show up or not. he’ll crush the rest of his enemies just as he’s crushed the last twenty men. the poor soul in his leather hold seems to know that as well.

“i-i’ll take you to her,” he rasps, dropping his gun to claw at chuuya’s hand.

he drops him, lets him take a few heaving breaths and coughs, before he’s kicking at him, forcing him back to his feet.

the young man takes him up the elevator, weaves him through a hallway as chuuya leaves a scattering of bodies in his wake, not hesitating to kill a single man that gets in his way. there is nothing that can keep him from you.

how fiercely and loyally he loves you — it drives him to near insanity.

finally, with blood coating his face and his clothes, the young man enters a room, locked with a code, revealing you.

chuuya’s rage is almost as blinding as his corruption, as he gazes at the sight of you. bloodied and bruised, tied up in a chair, so visibly harmed. his hands clench into fists. “get the fuck away from her,” he says to the man who seems to be monitoring you.

“what are you doing in here?” the men left in the room panic, but they don’t have time to react before chuuya throws them back at the wall, so quickly, with so much force, that their spines snap. they hit it with a sharp crack, skulls shattering against the plaster, the wall crushing beneath the weight of them.

limply, they fall to the floor.

chuuya rushes over to you.

the young man that led him here disappears, but chuuya isn’t worried about him. he’s a coward; he’ll likely flee from the country and never look back. the men that truly hurt you are already dead, and he’ll burn this building to the ground once he’s gotten you away from it.

“hey,” chuuya says, cradling your cheeks gently, trying to coax you back awake. he’s not sure if it’s exhaustion, blood loss, or the obvious head trauma that caused you to pass out in the first place. but you’re still breathing, so he counts that as a blessing.

“hey,” he whispers again, kissing your forehead, like it will heal all your ailments. “wake up, baby. we gotta get you out of here, okay?”

it takes you a few seconds to come to, eyes glazed over and shell-shocked as you blink at him. “chuuya?” you say; your voice is so hoarse it makes chuuya want to keel over and vomit. “is it really you?”

guilt gnaws at him, almost crushing, at the fact that thirty-six hours passed, and you’re delirious enough not to recognize him. you probably haven’t eaten, either.

he should’ve been there. no one should’ve ever had the chance to hurt you, yet…

“it’s me, i’m here,” he says, kissing your lips, your temple, brushing your hair away from your face. the strands are sticky with blood. “shit,” chuuya nearly shouts, pulling a knife from his pocket, sawing through the thick ropes around you as quickly as he can. “i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry.”

he can’t get you free fast enough, and you smile at him, drowsy, your eyes fluttering shut once more. “it’s okay, chuuya,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder. “you’re here now.”

“you have to stay awake,” he says desperately, realizing your head is still bleeding. he doesn’t know how hurt you are. chuuya’s no expert when it comes to medicine, but he’s smart enough to know that internal injuries could be even worse than the external ones.

“stay awake for me, okay, honey? i’ll get you back to the boss and we’ll find you a doctor. you’ll be just fine.”

“okay, chuuya,” you hum, weakly gripping his back. seconds of silence pass before you mutter, “i just want to go home.”

"i know." his heart pulls, and he almost lets out a cracked sob. but he refrains, knowing that there is plenty of time to drown in his sorrows later.

finally, he gets the ropes under, lifting you from the chair. you’re so much lighter, weaker, and it makes him sick as he carries you. “let’s get you home.”

𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀. . .

the call comes just as akutagawa is getting ready to head home for the evening, his tasks completed, eyes heavy with exhaustion.

normally, he doesn’t stick around to say any goodbyes, sneaking off into the darkness of the night like a shadow, blending right in. but, something about the evening, so gloomy and drizzly with spring rain, feels off.

with a heavy knot in his chest, so much different than an incoming fit of coughs, akutagawa heads back up to mori’s office, if perhaps to only ensure that everyone else’s jobs had been completed. he’s a lot of things, but he’s never been a slacker; and he’ll do what it takes to ensure that his position in the mafia is eternally secure.

though, he doesn’t have the opportunity to get all the way upstairs before he run into the boss, who is calm, but with an air of irritation clouding him.

he explains the current situation to akutagawa in a clipped tone, bored — an enemy group has kidnapped you, holding you hostage.

“how rude is it to bother a man, just as he is getting ready to go to sleep?” mori says, sighing histrionically.

but what is a minor inconvenience to mori sends an entire wave of dread through akutagawa, his entire body feeling as if it’s been dipped in ice. he can’t explain the horror that washes over him, not really, because he shouldn’t feel so panicked. it is rare for him to get worked up about the danger his subordinates find themselves in, save for his sister, of course.

but you… you’re different.

“can i trust you to diffuse the situation?” mori asks, impatiently glancing at his watch as if that will change anything. “i can call someone else, but they will not be so quick.”

akutagawa doesn’t even think before he accepts the job, hating the way he sounds pathetically desperate for more details. his hands flatten the edge of his cloak, as if his ability is going to take on a mind of its own.

he calls for a driver, calm but breathing so heavily that an aching cough rises up in him. his throat feels as if it may begin to bleed, but he swallows, glances away from the driver and gets himself under control.

there’s a ransom — bring them the money and they’ll return you, mori had told him. you’re only a lower ranking member of the mafia, and someone that makes for a pretty poor bargaining chip, so the motive is questionable.

mori probably would’ve let you die, akutagawa knows, his teeth gritting together, so much so that a splintering sound comes from it. but the boss, in his infinite, concerning wisdom, seems to also know that his loyal dog has an soft spot for you.

as regrettable as that may be.

akutagawa has no doubt that whoever the enemy is, they are no match for him. still, a twinge of anxiety settles in his stomach, fingers jittery as the driver, despite the decreased traffic of the hour, seems to drive impossibly slow.

“are we not in a rush?” akutagawa snaps, leaning forward.

“apologies,” the driver, says, not daring to even look at akutagawa from the mirror. but the car speeds up, enough for akutagawa to be able to notice, at least. it cools the simmer that has already begun deep in his chest.

even so, the car seems to go at a snails pace, minute upon minute flying by, with you in the clutches of an enemy.

akutagawa doesn’t care who they are. he doesn’t care why, or how they captured you. he wants them dead. he’ll rip them apart, easily, and he’ll make them suffer — they’ll be alive for all of it, for every second that he peels the skin from their bones, ripping the smaller ones out of their sockets.

what he feels for you… well, it’s too hard for him to admit to himself. he has no experience with what it means to care for another person, doesn’t even know if that’s his goal. he just knows he wants to protect you.

and he can’t do that if you’re dead.

finally, the car pulls up to an old warehouse, one at the very outskirts of the port, beyond the docks and the shipping carts. it’s tucked far back, an obvious lair for some villainous organization that doesn’t want to be found.

akutagawa gets there, but there is nothing. he hears nothing, feels no signs of life as he trudges through the puddles left behind from the earlier rain.

a small string of panic begins again, as he wondered if maybe the call that mori had told him was only a ruse. maybe this entire time had been a distraction, a way to lure him away. there are other skill-users in the mafia, but none quite as dangerous as him.

though, he hears it, then. a small little sound, muffled and hoarse, full of pain.

he ducks into another corner of a warehouse, and you’re there — bound with chains and a gag across your mouth, one of your eyes blackened with bruises, your nose bleeding.

his heart aches. never in his life has he so quickly made his way over, used the sharp edges of his ability to shear through the chains, falling to his knees as he unbinds the cloth from your lips.

“where are they?” he rasps, mouth opening and closing, hating the sound of his own voice. he recognizes his desperation, his anger, but the affectionate sound that clips at the end is unfamiliar, as he shakily pulls himself closer to you.

you glance up at him, eyes glossy and wide, and though you are scared, hurt, he’s so thankful you are alive. his heart flips once, as you grasp at his cloak, the material that has the blood of so many staining the threads.

“gone,” you say, throat chalky, words nothing more than a note against the wind. “they fled when they heard it was you coming.”

“and left you?” he asks, jaw clenching, as he hopes that the emotions aren’t as visible on his features as he thinks they are. “were you not a ransom?”

“no,” you swallow, hard, as if in pain. he notices bruises around your neck, the shape of fingerprints indented there. “i was bait.”

anger rises up in him like a wave, engulfing him, wholly and relentlessly. he is no stranger to that, like he is the kindness you show him, the way you look at him as if he is your protector, rather than a bringer of destruction. “i’ll go after them. where are they headed? they’ll pay, i’ll slaughter—”

“ryunosuke,” you say, reaching for him as he stands, expression pleading as he backs away. “stay.”

he has half a mind to ignore you — the enemy escaped, after all. but your voice. your eyes… you look so small sitting there, bloodied and bruised and broken.

“please,” you try again, near tears, and though he has never been good with obvious displays of emotion, something within him snaps at the desperation in the word.

he nods, slowing his pace as he returns to you, lets you wrap yourself in him, cling to him. his hands fall, naturally, to your waist, somehow knowing where they belong, even if akutagawa never has a clue what he’s doing with you.

“i’ll call hirotsu,” he says simply, before pulling out his phone, not bothering to untangle himself from you.

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 . . .

dazai is not a forgiving man, and will never learn to be. forgiveness is not a luxury he is often able to indulge in in his line of work, and his heart has hardened enough that until the end of time, those that are branded his enemies will remain his enemies.

though, in his blackened heart, one soured over the course of time, you have carved out your own little space, lit it up with golden rays of light that are fiery enough to melt the stone casing of his chest.

his only love — his only weakness. but it is a weakness that his enemies know about as well.

dazai tries his best to keep you safe. he always has, and he knows that, sometimes, his grasp on you can be a little too tight. that the way he tries to keep you under his watchful eye can sometimes be stifling, frustrating.

but he can’t always be there to protect you. and it is in times like these, that he regrets letting you go without a bodyguard. he regrets that he listened to your insistence that you could keep yourself safe.

he should’ve at least told you to take a friend.

“boss,” his subordinate says, bowing his head, his voice pleading, desperate. “i’m so sorry. your wife—”

“if anything… anything happens to her, you will be the one responsible, do you understand?” dazai says, his eyes cold as he glowers down at the man, only a few inches shorter than him, but feeling so much smaller. “i will personally see that this act does not go unpunished.”

“of course, sir,” the man says, and he, at the very least, has the decency to sound resigned. to accept his fate and suffer the consequences, for allowing the boss’s wife to get herself into such a situation.

and dazai means it, every last word; if he finds you in a state closer to death, anyone who put you in harm’s way will be torn apart from the inside out. he isn’t able to think of anything but bringing you home safely, his hands shaking with rage as he sends more than enough people out on a search to find you.

with all the strings he’s able to pull as the mafia boss, it doesn’t take long to find you, for those that have bravely — or stupidly — used his wife as bait to come forward, and offer an attempt at some sort of negotiation.

there’s little of the conversation that dazai remembers on the phone, even less that he remembers after that. the anger bubbles up in him and grabs hold of his conscience, the emotion directing his movements with a mind of its own.

he’s already sent out every last one of his people into the field, ensuring that the organization that had the gall to threaten you is wiped off the face of the earth. deleted from every corner of the world, buildings flattened to the ground. by tomorrow, they won’t have ever existed.

today, he doesn’t care what happens as long as he finds you alive.

you’re held hostage by two men — so completely beaten that they’ve given up on any restraints. whatever they wanted from you, you seemed to refused to have given up, lip bleeding, eyes swelling so badly that you can’t even open them.

dazai doesn’t hesitate before pulling the trigger on the first man, then turning to the other, shooting the hand that holds the pistol. the man recoils, shouts, and drops the weapon completely, as dazai lands another bullet to his knee, causing him to fall.

slowly, dazai walks up, firing again to his other arm, a loud snap echoing throughout the room. the man winces, trying to crawl to the gun, one last desperate attempt to stay alive.

he kicks the gun away, watching, as, pathetically, the expression in the enemy’s face changes — any of his remaining hope vanishes.

“you told me she was unharmed,” dazai says, bending down, his coat flaring out behind him as he squats.

the man coughs, gasping for air as the blood seeps out of him. “we lied.” he smiles cruelly, and though he shares the same sort of darkness as those in the port mafia, there is something even more twisted in his smile.

dazai hums. “you the leader?”

the man doesn’t give an answer, but the slight twitch of surprise on his face is all dazai needs. he’s no one — just a grunt whose life was put on the line to guard you.

“didn’t think so.” dazai shoots him once, straight through the forehead, instantly killing him. but he is vindictive, angry, and the man he truly wants to destroy, the one who took you, is nowhere to be found. another bullet lands, tearing apart the flesh of his temple, then another, and one more, his skull beginning to cave in from the force of it all.

dazai heaves, letting the gun clatter to the ground as it runs out of bullets, and then he realizes, all this time, you’ve just been watching him. the ugliest side of him — the worst side of him.

you’re no stranger to it, of course. how can you be, when you’ve shared a life with him for years? but that doesn’t mean he wants you to see it, see how bloodthirsty he can become.

he stumbles over to you, where you’re still sitting on the ground, your wrist in your lap, bent at an angle that he knows isn’t right. bruises are littered across your skin, and your hair is matted from the blood that pools at your temple.

it takes every ounce of restraint he has to stay calm, a million feelings swirling under his skin. ones that he was never familiar with until he met you.

“i’m sorry,” he says, taking your face in his hands so, so softly, worried that he’ll hurt you even more. “i’m sorry, darling. i should’ve — i should’ve been there.” dazai notices his hands are shaking and he balls them up into fists, leaning back. “fuck. fuck — i’ll kill them all, just tell me who it was. anyone who laid a finger on you. i’ll cut them down one by one.”

“osamu,” you say, and your voice is raspy, cracking, as your unbroken arm reaches for him, squeezing his shaking hand. “i—”

you open your mouth to continue, but only tears come streaming down your cheeks, over your bloodied lips, saltiness soaking your jawline. no words don’t leave you, but a soft sob chokes itself up your throat.

“hey, hey, hey.” dazai’s voice softens, every muscle in his body relaxing as he draws you nearer to him, into his chest with a touch that’s barely there. “you’re safe. i’m here, okay? they’re not going to hurt you again, sweetheart.”

you sniffle, barely making a sound, but he can feel the tears drop onto his clothes, soaking the material.

“can you walk? are you hurt anywhere else?”

you hesitate for a moment before answering; he’s not sure if there’s a reason you only answer the first question. “i can walk.”

dazai nods, and though the rage is still bubbling there, underneath the surface, there is a coolant streaming through him at the vision of you alive. the men who did this will pay the price, but he still has you — and that’s all that matters.

thank you for reading !!! ❤︎

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cerisereids · 2 months

Text

𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝗻𝗻𝘆 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹- 𝘀.𝗿.

pairing- dad!spencer reid x mom!reader

summary- spencer reid is the best girl dad on the planet

warnings- hurt/comfort and fluff, post s15!spencer- he is no longer with the bau but there are references to his time there, lowkey some angst bc apparently i can’t write anything for spencer without him being sad, spencer’s daddy issues, a lil makin out/grinding, brief discussion of sex/baby making

a/n- divider from @real-afterglow! happy easter to everyone who celebrates! here’s a cute little thing about girl dad!spencer :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

spencer reid’s bottom lip is tucked between his teeth, his eyebrows furrowed together. usually, this look of concentration was reserved for intense cases, ones spent pouring over complex documents into late hours of the night. tonight, however, he’s traded serial killers for pastel eggs, taunting him from the kitchen table. spencer’s engaging in an intense staring contest with the plastic eggs as he pores over the array of candy and decorations littering the rest of the table.

his head snaps up as he hears your feet pattering down the steps, knowing you’re about to catch him in the midst of a battle between him and your daughter’s easter goodies. you take the eggs’ place as the object of his visual affection when you appear in the kitchen, staring back at him in silence. his puppy dog eyes plead into yours. he knows you know what he’s trying to say, i’m trying, i want this to be perfect. he also knows you won’t let him destroy himself to make you and your baby girl happy, even when he wants to.

“she’s only two, you know. she’s not going to care if the right piece of candy is in the right egg. she’s just happy to be with us,” you speak to his anxieties like you can read his mind.

it’s one of the many things he loves about you, his sweet wife. the way you just know what his brain is fighting against, and can speak to it. your sweet words don’t appease his guilt this time, though, and you both know it. he plows ten fingers through his mop of hair before sliding his glasses onto his forehead.

“i know,” he breathes, and you both know he has more to say.

“but it’s not enough,” you finish for him.

“it’s not enough,” he repeats, defeated.

“well, then let me help you,” you declare, pulling a chair up next to him.

“no, no,” he insists, shaking his head, “you just put her to bed. you must be exhausted, rest.”

“we’re both exhausted, spence. just because i was the one to put her to bed tonight doesn’t mean i’m the only one doing the parenting around here,” he knows you’re trying to reassure him, but he flinches anyway. his ability to be a father has been a sore subject since you first became pregnant almost three years ago.

“plus, we both know i won’t be able to rest while you’re over here, very clearly in need of a helping hand,” you glare at him, checkmate. he relents at that, and allows you to wrap yourself into him. your arms around his bicep, your head on his shoulder, his chin atop your temple. slowly, he allows vulnerability to pierce through the tension between you two.

“what do we got here, handsome?” you croon, and he’s never been so certain that he doesn’t deserve you, that you’re too good for him. there’s not much he can do about that now but kiss you on the forehead and hope his lips convey a decade of love and devotion in one small kiss.

“i just want it to be perfect,” he croaks, eyes glossing over. “i wasn’t here last time. i don’t think i’ll ever not feel guilty about it.”

“i understand, spence. i’d feel bad, too, but that doesn’t mean you’re not there for her, that you don’t love her. because you do. and you show her, and me, everyday, don’t forget that,” you finish your mini speech with a firm kiss on the lips.

a year ago from this very moment, he was pulled away on a case. the call came at 11 pm, the night before your daughter’s first easter. to say he was devastated would be an understatement. he put on a brave face that morning over facetime, watching the chubby hands of one little eloise reid tear through the plastic easter grass hiding the candy in her basket.

he was brave until the time came to hit the hang up button. with the blankness that filled his screen and his hotel room, he broke. he was of no use on the case, and the team knew it, too. he left the bau shortly after that. he didn’t want to feel that way ever again, and he knew if he stayed there, he would. that time it was only one holiday, sure, but what about when she ends up having a dance recital? or graduates? he couldn’t risk it, he knew his family took the biggest priority.

between that and his own father’s absence in his childhood, he was determined to make this easter absolutely perfect for your daughter, no matter if he fell dead asleep on your kitchen table trying.

the staticky rustling of plastic basket grass tears spencer away from his loud, busy brain, and his eyes soften as they fixate on you. helping him. you’re nestling a little stuffed bunny atop the plastic frills of the basket and spencer watches in awe, wondering why he didn’t think to do that first.

he knows the answer. it’s because it’s you. you’re the best mom, and he loves catching those little moments where you prove that to him. it doesn’t take much, like the way you’re slipping $1 bills into each plastic egg, while also making sure you put a piece of candy there as well. it’s a small gesture, maybe, one that doesn’t take much deep thinking, but he knows that it comes from the deepest love your great beautiful heart can muster.

and of course he loves your daughter too, so, so much, but he struggles to show it the way you do. his lack of a paternal presence in his childhood sometimes leaves him feeling empty handed in his journey of fatherhood. you never let him feel this way for long, though. again, just like now, with the way you immediately jumped in to help him. even after he said no, even if you’re absolutely exhausted. you do it for him, because it’s him. because you love him. he still can’t believe it some days.

he smiles, so full of love for his two girls and lets his gaze linger as you run into the living room. you return yielding the carrots and cookies the three of you left for the easter bunny earlier.

“up for a little midnight snack?” you tease, waving the carrots in one hand and the cookies in another before you sit.

“not my preferred treat but i’m not going to say no to one of your sugar cookies,” he jokes, pulling you to the edge of your chair by the small of your back.

he places a kiss on your lips. an intense one, one that conveys every thought blundering through his mind the 10 minutes you’ve been downstairs. how much he loves you, specifically.

he feels you chuckle against him and can’t help but deepen the kiss, pulling you ever closer so his leg comes between yours, your core pressing warmly against his knee. he hears you whimper, a sound he’ll cherish forever, before you rub against him gently and pull away.

“not tonight,” you peer at him over your glasses, a faux concern dancing through your gaze, “if we do you’ll end up giving me another baby. we both know we’re not ready for that yet.”

it’s his turn now to hide his face in the crook of your neck, placing gentle kisses along your neck and jaw. you dedicate the rest of your night to making this holiday special for your little girl.

after nibbling on the carrots and cookies, you place them back on the plate with a thank you note, signed E.B. he raises a brow as he sees you pad over to your cupboard, pulling out your bin of flour. your cheeky smile invokes butterflies, and he’s breathless. it’s late, you’re in sweats, your hair is a mess, and you’re currently half-bent, sifting flour over a stencil of a bunny foot, and he’s never been more in love with you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

spender hears rustling and sweet talk echoing down your spiral staircase. baby eloise’s sweet morning rasp, her high pitched baby voice asking mama if the easter bunny came. he hears you coo at her, telling her she has to wait and see, followed by kissing noises and baby giggles. his heart grows three sizes.

when he sees you appear in the stairway through the lens of his phone, he quickly tears his gaze away from the screen to see the real thing. his girls, eyes tired and hair messy, float down the steps, light from the back window illuminating them, like his own personal angels.

“hi girls!” he lilts, gentle as to not startle his baby girl.

her big brown eyes that she got from dad bore into his, and he can feel himself welling up at her sweetness. sap.

“hi sweet eloise,” he bends down for a kiss from both his angels as you set her at the bottom of the steps, “i think someone special came,” he coos, stealing some more kisses from the baby’s soft chubby cheeks.

she nestles into spencer’s chest, a tiny little thumb settled gently on her lips, and his heart bleeds. he loves her so much.

“i think the easter bunny came!” he croons, hugging her tight and close, “do you wanna see what he got you?” he feels her head nod against him and he hands you his phone. the three of you walk into the living room and spencer sets her down, letting her choose where to go first.

she runs right to the fireplace, where the eaten treats and thank you note lay, her eyes wide.

“wow!” he hears you gasp, and he pulls you to him so you can walk to her together, “i think he ate our treats!”

eloise turns to you two and giggles, clapping her chubby little hands. you two can’t help but pull her in, attacking her with kisses before letting her go on to her other surprises.

she squeals at the bunny feet, repeating, “bunny! bunny!” she gets presents too, of course, spoiled little thing that she is.

you’re better than spencer at shopping for the girly things she loves, so he was an observer shopping for the special things she’s getting this morning.

you nailed it, too. you got her pink, purple, and blue ruffle swimsuits for the summer, and he’s already dying inside imagining how cute it will be. she immediately opens the tinted lip balm with a unicorn on it, as well as the princess jewelry kit, complete with fake earrings and a necklace with aurora, her favorite princess, on the pendant.

she demolishes the easter egg hunt you set up for her in the backyard, just like her dad always did. she squeals when she opens each one, even though all the $1 bills don’t mean anything to her, and will end up being spent by you two anyway. you agreed to spend the total $10 on her, regardless. it’s about having something that’s her own, forming an identity at an early age.

later in the morning, when you appear in the living room, ready for easter brunch with your family, he falls in love all over again. his girls, now a complete contrast to his view earlier this morning, clad in your easter best, look so beautiful, he’s now thoroughly convinced you’re angels.

you’re in a pink ruffled maxi dress, hair and makeup done to the nines. your baby girl got her hair styled by mom, one of her favorite pastimes. her curly hair lay beautifully behind the world’s cutest bangs, and she’s cute as pie with her yellow flowered dress.

he saunters over to you, piercing you with a gaze that said ‘i’m ready for baby #2 now’ before kissing you, then eloise.

“you are the two most beautiful girls in the entire world,” he croons, hugging you both close to him in his big arms.

“i love you,” you whisper up to him, kissing his jawline sweetly, “what do you say to daddy, sweet girl?” you prompt, rubbing her baby belly.

“thank you daddy, i love you!” she chirps, planting a big kiss on his cheek.

he never thought his life could be filled with this much joy.

#oh i want his kids BAD #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x y/n #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid smut

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gaysindistress · 2 months

Text

What if Simon didn’t listen when Price told him to apologize to his girl before she does go off and find herself a better man?

a/n: This is technically part two for this list. You could read them separately but I really think you should read them both so you can fully feel the angst.

non-mcu characters masterlist

Taglist: @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries this is one is for you girl

Price stalks over to him and grabs him by the front of his vest, not caring that everyone can see what’s going on. “You call and apologize to her right now, ya hear me? It’s unacceptable for you to lie to her like that and I should have your balls for it. You fix it before she does go off and find herself a better man.”

Now let’s say that when Simon got back, things were….different. You rarely fought but now you’re bickering about every little thing and having full on battles of the will that leave you crying in the bedroom while he’s storming out. The connection between you two feels strained and distant where’s before it was warm and comforting. You barely look at each other and sometimes you think he’s straight up ignoring you.

Even the dogs have started to notice that there’s something off about mom and dad. Most nights you’ll sleep alone with the dogs by your door while Simon is on the couch. It feels like they’re laying in wait, ready to spring into action if anything were to happen. They don’t go to him as much as they did before and your female dog, Echo, refuses to leave your side. She’s become glued to you while your other dog, Zade, keeps you within eyesight at all times. It really pisses Simon off because Zade is supposed to be his dog and the mutt won’t even look at him (Simon’s words, not yours).

It all comes to a head though one night when Simon is trying to get Zade to come with him on a walk and the dog just stares at him. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t blink. He just stares into Simon’s soul and judges him for how he’s been treating you.

“Zade! Come here now!” Simon grumbles in a half shout but the dog doesn’t move a muscle. You’re in the bedroom with Echo at your feet and she glances over at you with a look that says ‘let’s go’.

What happened next is a blur. Echo barely makes it into the living room before she’s growling and placing herself between you and Simon. Zade is up and stalking closer to his sister’s side while Simon is growing more and more angry. You don’t think you even had the time to say anything before Echo and Zade tackle Simon to the ground. You know they wouldn’t hurt him but it’s still a terrifying sight and you’re doing everything you can to get the dogs off of him. You manage to get them off but they refuse to go to their kennels and keep tucked behind you, still ready to protect you if needed.

“Simon, oh my god are you okay?” You ask him in a panicked and high pitched voice as you try to help him up. He shoves your hands off of him and accidentally uses too much force which sends you to stumbling into the dogs.

Everything is absolute chaos with his anger, the dogs trying to protect you, and now you’re crying while trying not to tell him off. At this point you grab the dogs by their collars and pull them away as tears are streaming down your face. When they hear your sniffles, they immediately give into you and let you pull them to the bedroom. You don’t hear Simon as you start to pack as much as you can. The weeks of being on edge have finally gotten to you and you’re done.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who isn’t willing to communicate with you.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who used to be the most loving and devoted man you’ve ever met but now he can’t acknowledge your presence.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who’s come so far and has forgiven himself for the things he’s done but now he’s slipping back into his old self destructive ways.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who can’t be honest with himself and admit that he’s wrong.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who’s become Ghost.

You’ve tried having faith in him after he broke up with you but it’s rotting you from the inside out. It’s eating away at your heart, gnawing at your ribs with your flesh stuck in its teeth. This faith is liquifying the kindness and patience you once had. It’s changing you into an anxious shell of a coward who can’t stand up for yourself. Change is alright but this is not. This change is making you cruel and hopeless while it waits for you to become a faithless savage who devours whatever light touches you.

It’s only when you come back into the living room with your bags packed and the dogs ready to go that Simon says something to you.

He questions what you’re doing.

He doesn’t apologize.

“I’m leaving. We’ll figure out everything tomorrow,” you tell him as you find your keys.

“What do you mean?”

You stop. You stare at the front door with completely blank eyes. They flicker to him over your shoulder.

“I’m leaving you. I’ll call you tomorrow and we can figure out how to make it a clean break then.”

He doesn’t say a word. Neither do you after that.

He lets you walk out the door. You don’t ask him to fight for you either.

He lets you leave him. You don’t turn back either.

You meant to drive to your friend’s place but somewhere on the way there you pull over and cry until you feel like you’re going to pass out. Zade and Echo watch from the backseat of your car with their heads on your center console. They want to comfort you but there’s not exactly room for two 100 pound dogs in the front seat so they stay put. Your friend calls you frantically because she’s not home but tells you that you should come meet her wherever she’s at. As nice as it might be to get away, it’s not appealing to you at the moment so you call the only other person you know you’d be comfortable with right now.

A part of you knows it’s a mistake to call him and if Simon finds out, he might very well almost kill his captain a third time. The other part of you knows that John would be understanding and the calm presence that you want right now. He already checks on you regularly so would it be a huge surprise if you showed up on his doorstep?

As if he’s been waiting for this moment, John already has a guest room for you and has the back door open for the dogs to run around outside. They’ve met him before so they feel more secure with leaving your side although they both give him a warning look.

Now it’s important to remember that the entire time you’ve known John, you’ve been with Simon. John thinks himself a gentleman, albeit a bit gruff, but a gentleman no less so you’ve been off limits. Obviously he can’t ignore the initial attraction he felt towards you because you are an utterly breathtaking person and it would be impossible to not notice that. He’s tried to lock away the yearning that tugs at the marrow in his bones when he sees you but it’s difficult. It’s like asking a dog to stop begging; they might listen for a moment but they go back to it within seconds. Also during the course of your friendship, he’s come to know the absolute amazing person that you are and seen that you have the kindness soul he’s ever known. It didn’t used to hurt when he saw you but after that night you texted him to keep Simon safe after he broke up with you, it’s damn near unbearable. Simon told you to find yourself a better man and John knows he could be that man. He wants to be that man but only if you come to him. He won’t approach you or even hint at it with you. It needs to be you who seeks him out. It needs to be you who wants him. It needs to be you who asks him to be that man otherwise John would never be able to forgive himself if it all went wrong.

Nothing happens that night or at all for that matter during your stay with John. It was meant to only be a few days but with losing your house so suddenly and trying to navigate a world Post Simon, it ends up being a few weeks. You feel awful about it and promise that you’ll be gone as soon as you can. John always laughs it off and tells you to stay as long as you need. Secretly he’s growing accustomed to your calming presence and gentle ways. He adores how thoughtful you are when you have to work early and barely make a sound. He appreciates how you make him a plate and leave it in the fridge if he comes home late. He’s thankful that you’re comfortable enough with him to tell him about everything that’s going on.

John made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t bring up anything unless you said something first. Even when he wants desperately to know why you’re crying when you came back from Simon’s tonight, he won’t. Instead he offers you a cup of tea, a warm blanket, and some space while he busies himself in his shop outside. It absolutely destroys him to even think about leaving you alone in the living room but it’s the right thing to do.

Just as he’s getting ready to leave, your small voice stops him.

“Can…can you stay?” It’s unusual for you to not be confident in your words. It causes him to freeze to hear the uncertainty. “If..if you want.”

He smiles at the ground before turning to look at you and nod. You’re curled into a ball on the couch with your dogs at your feet but there’s space for him next to you. You lean away from the arm of the couch and he takes the hint. Settling into the space between you and couch, he tosses his arm over the back and lets you decide how to proceed. Against your logical head, you tuck yourself into his side with yours pulled around yourself and your head on his shoulder. His fingers itch to play with the ends of your hair but they stay tightly closed around the couch cushion.

“Thank you…for everything.”

“No need for that.” He murmurs with bated breath. He knows you can feel the tension, how could you not when you’re practically laying on his chest?

“One day you’re going to accept my thanks. It might not be tomorrow or the day after, but you will,” you say with a snort. He says that every single time and you reply with the same phrase every time as well.

John’s hand betrays him and starts to play with the very ends of your hair. You feel it just like you felt his strained breathing. It’s strange to feel affection from anyone else but from him, it’s…. welcomed. You don’t acknowledge it and he knows that you’re doing that for his own sake.

“Maybe,” he tosses back and his breath catches when you move closer to him. Your arm moves to wrap around his waist and stills when he tenses. It’s your silent way of asking for consent to hold him. “Love,” he starts and moves his hand away from your hair.

You move to look at him, resting your chin on his shoulder. He’s looking at you with such tenderness and warmth it makes your stomach flip.

“Do you have feelings for me?” You ask him directly, unwilling to be tossed around again. It’s abrasive and you know there’s a better way to have asked but it gets straight to the point.

John looks sick and a tight lipped smile pulls across his face as he tries to come up with an answer. “I…love I think you need to rest. There’s been a…”

“No. Answer the question.”

He glances down at your lips and that’s telling enough.

“Now isn’t the right time,” he whispers more to himself than to you. “You’ve just gone through…”

Cutting him off, you say firmly, “and that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.”

He can only stare at you with half lidded eyes and pray that he doesn’t break in front of you. His resolve is crumbling and it’s only thanks to his military service that he’s not throwing himself at you.

“I told him it’s over.”

John tries to interrupt you but you silence him with a pointed look. “I told him that I will always love him but that doesn’t mean I want to be with him anymore. I won’t wait around for him to figure his life out. I don’t deserve that. I deserve a man who knows what he wants and will communicate with me.”

Honestly it feels like his world is crumbling around him. You’re here snuggled into his chest and saying all these things which he knows what they mean but he can’t believe that you know what they mean. He can’t trust his own understanding of you and believe that you’d mean that.

“I need you to tell me what you want…now.”

You.

He wants you. More than anything in the world, John Price wants you and you’re asking him to confess that secret.

#simon riley x female reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod x reader #call of duty imagine #ghost call of duty #call of duty #john price #john price x reader #John price imagine #captain price x reader #price x reader #price #captain price #cod price

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princessofmarvel · 9 months

Text

Business and dates

summary | when grace leaves, it leaves the shelbys with a heartbroken thomas. polly takes this as an opportunity to get him with the girl she's always wanted him with

pairing | thomas shelby x fem!reader

word count | 2.30k

genre | fluff! with just a tad of angst!

requested? | yes! thank you so much for your request! i had so much writing it, and i am kind of proud of this one, lol.

warnings! | mentions of bullying, and the reader not eating from being worried! and, i have not proof read this yet!

author’s note! | Hi! Thank you all for being so patient as I worked on this! Requests are open for drabbles, and headcanons only at the moment for these characters! And as always, I do I have really bad OCD that causes me to write in some random capitalization, and punctuation, But I think that we don't have to worry about that in this fic lol. And let me know if there are any mistakes, but please be kind!

No one knew what had happened that day. All anyone knew was that Grace was suddenly gone, and that she had left the Shelby family with a heartbroken Thomas. And the person left to pick up the pieces was his lifelong best friend, who has been in love with Thomas since the day they met back when they were just small kids.

Thomas was having a decent day, school had just let out and he was walking back home (alone because his older brother Aurther thought that it would be funny to run off before Thomas got out of class) when he saw a young girl getting picked on.

“Stop it! This is my favorite skirt!” Thomas heard her yell to the kids that had her on the ground, kicking dirt onto her clothes while laughing and taunting her. Thomas knew that these kids were practically afraid of him, so he knew he could get them to leave the girl alone. He also knew that his mother would scold him if she found out that he didn’t do anything to help her.

“Oi! Leave her alone, or I'll put a curse on you!” Thomas called out as he made his way up to the group, and pulled a razor blade out of his pocket. The kids practically scattered the moment they heard Thomas’ voice. Leaving just him, and the girl with dirt on her clothes.

“Thank you” He heard the girl say in a quiet voice as he put his hand out to help her back up.

“What caused that?” He asked, curious as to what the girl could have done to anger the other kids so much.

“I-I told them that I wouldn’t do their homework.” She said back to him, as she tried to get the dirt off of her skirt. Thomas told himself that he should have known it was something like that. There wasn’t anything serious that this girl could have done to upset them so much.

“Come on, I’ll walk you home, you live on Watery lane, right?” He said as he started walking, with the girl running a bit to catch up with him. He knew her name, he recognized her from school. She lived right across from him, but they never said anything to each other. She had been over to play with Ada sometimes, but they never spoke.

Neither one of them said anything as they walked, it wasn’t until they got to her home that Thomas spoke up.

“They shouldn’t bother you again, no one should.” He said as he stood outside her doorstep, seeming almost sorry since he knew his reputation, and how kids would stay away from him in fear of getting cursed.

“It’s alright, I don’t really have any friends anyways.” The small girl said, while rocking back and forth on her heels.

“Why don’t you come play at my house? I know my family won’t mind.” He said to her with a small smile. Truth be told, Thomas didn’t really have many friends either, and he saw an opportunity to make one.

Ever since then, the two were inseparable. They did everything together, they were even each other's first kiss. Her family was weary at first, but soon saw how protective the Shelby boys (and the rest of the Shelby family) were over her, and grew to like them. The two were like this up until Thomas was called to war

“Tommy, this has to be a mistake.” The girl cried into Thomas’ shoulder as he held her. “All three of you at the same time? What kind of cruel joke is this”

“The universe has a funny way of doing things.” He mumbled into her hair, his hand resting on the back of her head. “I’ll come back, sweetheart.”

“You don’t know that, Tommy” The girl said as she pulled her head out of his shoulder, and looked up at him, eyes red and puffy.

“You really think I'm leaving you yet? You think I'm going to leave you before you get married? Please, your future husband doesn’t get off that easily.” He said with a small laugh while trying to lighten the mood as he held her face with his hand. “Nothings taking me from you, not yet.”

“You better come back, Shelby.” She said as she looked up at him with glossy eyes. “Or, I’ll bring you back just to kill you myself.”

Thomas laughed and kissed her head, as the air in the room changed. He didn’t know why, but he leaned down and kissed her lips softly, all he knew was that he couldn’t leave without giving her a kiss, even just a light one. “You’ve got nothing to worry about” He said as he pulled away.

She believed him, she tried not to worry. She didn’t worry until his letters stopped coming. After a month of not hearing from him she worried so much she got sick. She wrote him everyday, sent him a letter at least once a week, if not twice. No word of his death ever came.

The day Thomas arrived home, she was sitting at the kitchen table with Polly. His heart broke when he saw her, she was paler, and her face was skinny, all signs to her not eating properly. Neither one of them said a word to each other for a week. It wasn’t until (Y/n) decided that she had enough, and stormed into his room.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she shouted, growing red in the face.

“What are you talking about?” He asked, not meeting her eyes, already knowing what she was talking about,

“You! You come back, and are completely different! You’re cold, and mean to everyone, which maybe you were that way to some people before, but never to me! Never to your family!” As she yelled at him, she started to sway as if she was about to faint. Before she could hit the floor, Thomas grabbed her and set her down on the bed beside him.

“You need to eat something.” He mumbled, not looking at her which infuriated her more.

“I thought you were dead.” This caught his attention as he heard her start to cry. He finally turned to her. “You stopped writing.”

“I didn’t know how to write to you, you would ask me how I was, and I couldn’t find it in myself to tell you about how I had just watched a man die. I thought it better to not write.” He said, pulling her into his chest. “Why are you not eating?”

“You worried me, anything I ate just came back up.” She mumbled into his chest.

“I told you not to worry.” He said with a small laugh coming from his chest, the first in a long time.

“Tough shit, Shelby.” She mumbled back, while pulling her head out of his chest.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, just staring at the other, until Thomas finally spoke up. “I’m trying to get back to normal.” He mumbled, barely loud enough for her to hear, she wouldn’t have if they hadn’t been so close.

“I know, it will just take some time.” She said while she caressed his cheek. “And, I’ll be here to help you heal.”

After that day, nothing ever really went back to how it was before the war. But it was like that for everyone. Thomas had gone back to normal as much as he could. He had his moments, but everyone did. And, (Y/n) didn’t lie, she was there every step of the way, even in the bad times she never left.

The two never fought again until the day Grace left. She had tried telling Thomas before that something was up with her, but he just wouldn’t listen. The only other person that seemed to notice it was Polly.

“He’ll never go for it.” John pipped into the conversation. Polly was currently trying to figure out a way to cheer Thomas up, and the idea she had was to put Thomas with (Y/n). She already considered the girl a daughter, and she always wanted her with Thomas. To her, it was the perfect plan.

“That's why we don’t tell him! All we tell him is that he has a business meeting at the new restaurant, he’ll show up, expecting some business man to be there, but instead (Y/n) will come in wearing the most beautiful thing I can find, that he’ll just have to stay.” Polly explained to the boys and Ada.

“Alright, but how are you going to get (Y/n) there, dressed up, without suspecting anything?” Ada chimed in.

“We’ll tell her a boy stopped by and asked to take her out.” Polly said, as if it was obvious.

“Please, she’s not going to just agree to go out with someone, especially if she doesn’t even know who it is.” Arthur muttered.

"Actually she might.” John announced to everyone. “Just to make Thomas jealous, she mentioned it back when Grace was around.”

The Shelby’s set everything into motion that night. Polly told Thomas he had a meeting, then she told (Y/n) about the secret man that wanted to take her out.

So Thomas sat in his suit, waiting for this man to show, when he saw (Y/n) walk through the door, dressed like a vision in her red, drop waist, beaded dress, with an old pearl necklace to match. She looked around the room, until her eyes landed on Thomas.

“What are you doing here?” She asked him, as she walked up to his table.

“Business meeting, what are you doing here?” He asked, suddenly growing jealous at the thought of her being here for another man.

“A date, and what business meeting? I know your schedule, there wasn’t one planned, did you make one?” She asked, wondering who on earth Thomas could be meeting for business at this hour.

“No, Polly told me I had one, who’s the date?” He asked, his jealousy rising.

“Not sure, Polly told me-” A look of realization crossed both their faces “Polly” The two said in unison.

She decided to sit down, now laughing to herself. “You’re the date.”

“You’re the business.” Thomas responded, a small smile growing to his face.

The two sat there for a minute, before Thomas spoke up. “You do look stunning.”

“Polly picked it.” She said, with a small laugh.

“I bet she did.” Thomas said with a laugh, and a sigh. “She’s wanted us together for ages.” He mumbled.

“And what do you want?” The girl asked. Thomas had always had a feeling that (Y/n) liked him, he was just never sure how much, until he looked up and met her eyes that were filled with nothing but love and want.

“You in my life.” He said, keeping his eyes on her. “I thought a relationship between us would mess everything up. I couldn’t risk losing you.”

“Thomas.” The girl said, grabbing his hand across the table. “You could never lose me, even if we did have a relationship and it failed, I would still love you. But, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this.”

“I have distracted myself from you for as long as I can remember. I wouldn’t let myself fall for you.” Thomas said, standing up from the table, (Y/n) following.

“It’s okay to fall, Thomas, who knows, maybe it won’t hurt.” She said, as she placed a hand to his face. Without thinking, Thomas leaned in and kissed her with everything in him, causing her to hit the table, his hands on the side of her face being the only thing to keep them from falling. The pair kissed until they needed air. When they pulled away, he rested his forehead on hers.

“Let’s give this a try.” He whispered, looking into her eyes.

The girl smiled and gave Thomas a quick peck, before they left the restaurant, her holding his arm. The walk back to the Shelby home was mostly quiet, until she spoke up. “Thank god for Polly.”

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #cillian murphy #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby fic #tommy shleby fic #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fluff #tommy shelby fluff #thomas shelby angst #tommy shelby angst #thomas shelby peaky blinders #tommy shelby peaky blinders #peaky blinders

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lovelyhan · 3 months

Text

— melting point ⟢

rumor has it that icy department head of pledis insurance has something going on with her loyal secretary, wonwoo. well, she does—it's just not the kind of behind-closed-doors business one would expect for them to partake in.

★ FEATURING; secretary!wonwoo x afab!oc

★ WORD COUNT; 12.3k words

★ TAGS; coworkers to lovers, revenge fic, angst, smut

★ WARNINGS; blackmailing, manipulation, mentions of past bullying, graphic sexual content (MINORS DNI)

★ NOTES; hi... it's been forever, hasn't it? i missed tumblr a lot, and have decided to grace the tags with this fic after months of radio silence heheh ! this was a commissioned piece on twt which i tweaked to fit my tumblr audience better! cheers to 5k followers even in my absence t__t you guys are the best!

★ PS; i'm sorry i can't be bothered to dig up my taglist and tag those who filled it up T T

There’s a saying in PLEDIS Insurance that goes: enjoy your coffee early because once the Ice Queen is in, it’ll turn just as cold as she is.

Of course, the words were merely thrown around in jest. Something that bored employees come up with in the break room whenever they’re careless enough to think their little jokes won’t reach said ice queen’s ears. But still—they’re just jokes. As long as they worked enough to satisfy their salaries’ worth, Emma the Ice Queen would always turn a blind eye. She might be cold, but she isn’t completely heartless.

Most of the time.

“Good morning, ma’am,” her secretary, Wonwoo, greeted with a curt nod as she entered her office.

Emma scoffed before setting her things down on her work desk, the frown on her face only worsening when she sees the elegantly wrapped gift box in front of her. “What's this?”

Wonwoo swallowed thickly, like he was nervous. Wonwoo never gets nervous.

“We have an...unforeseen circumstance,” he prefaced before tapping away on the iPad in his arms. “Sir Leo from the Choi group wants to pursue you.”

“Unforeseen?” Emma repeated. “Wonwoo, this is completely foreseen. Isn't it our from the start is to make them fall in love, only for us to expose their dirty secrets in the end?”

He looked as if he wanted to agree. But after turning the screen of his iPad so Emma could see the article written on some shoddy newsletter, her brows furrowed together in confusion.

A Race for the Inheritance: How the Choi Group’s Next Generation of Ambitious Youngbloods Will Do Everything to Get Their Fill of Old Money.

The title itself didn’t give Emma much context of what exactly was making Wonwoo—her ever-composed secretary—lose his composure. It’s natural to see the sons and daughters of a powerful business conglomerate fight each other for their rights to the family inheritance. But after reading through what the rest of the article had to offer, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly started to fit.

“They're seeing who gets to get married first?” Emma laughed incredulously before handing the iPad back to Wonwoo. “Does Leo really think he can get me to become his lover—even more so his wife—after everything he did to me in high school?”

Wonwoo breathed in deeply. “Miss Emma, we both know the answer to that. If it were all up to you, you could easily put him to shame and reject him. But his interests somewhat align with the director’s interests as well…”

Ah. Her father’s interests.

“No,” she answered sharply. “Even if he kicks me out of my position, I’m not going to be wed to that prick.”

“Are you sure about that?” Wonwoo sighed before adjusting his glasses. “Miss Emma, we both know you love your work more than anything. And you're chronically attached to this company even if you despise the executives. Sir Leo has good leverage over you, sad to say.”

There was something irritating about hearing Wonwoo call his ex-best friend Sir, as if he was underneath some scumbag of a human being like Leo. But then again, years have passed since then. Lots of things have changed.

But Emma’s grudges hold steadfast, still.

“Hmph, whatever.” She dismissed the matter with a nonchalant wave before unwrapping the gift box in front of her. “Was this from Leo, too? Is he on a deadline or something?”

“Hmm, first one that gets married before December gets the rights to the inheritance,” Wonwoo informed her as he picked the clutter of ribbons off Emma’s desk and pocketed them in his coat for later disposal. “Do you want me to look up the progress of his siblings and cousins? We can sabotage him while it's still early.”

Emma didn’t respond right away—preoccupied with unwrapping Leo's so-called gift. But when she sees a red velvet box with an engagement ring and a folded letter inside, she begrudgingly realized that Leo wouldn’t be as easy a target as her other high school bullies.

No, this man really was rotten to the core.

By the time you’re reading this, I’m sure you already heard the news. You know what to do, right, Emma?

Or should I say, wifey? ;)

“Send this back to him. Now.”

Wonwoo nodded obediently as Emma pushed Leo's cursed gift box away from her. “Alright. Anything else I can do for you? Like…have someone plant a snake in his bedroom or something?”

Despite the sour mood that Leo undoubtedly put her in this morning, Wonwoo's little idea of a joke made the corners of her mouth turn up into a small smile. The offer was tempting, but in the end, she shook her head and booted up the PC on her desk instead.

“As much as I want his death by a snake bite to headline the news, Leo doesn’t deserve to get out of this the easy way.” Emma muttered as she started browsing through the hard-drive she’d hooked up onto the computer. “And lucky for us, I finally got the evidence to send his suspiciously prosperous career down into a spiral.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow before taking a peek behind her. “What's that? Money laundering records? Tax fraud?”

No. It was really something as simple as—

“Footage of a mass orgy he participated in,” Emma casually told her secretary as she clicked on the only video on the hard drive. “Might not look like a big deal compared to what we had to go through with Ezra, but Leo belongs to a family of devout Catholics. Good thing your contact from Leo's favorite bar had some use. All I did was ask around and he quickly spilled all the details with the right amount of money.”

Wonwoo chuckled as he flashed her an impressed look. “As far as I know, I’m the one who’s supposed to do the dirty work for you. Why are you directly involving yourself in matters you can leave to me?”

The lewd video continued to play on her screen—muted, of course—and one could easily make out Leo Choi's face amongst the crowd of sex-depraved freaks. Once they sent this over anonymously to each and every person who might think that scumbag deserved to inherit his family’s wealth, it would be all over for him.

“‘Cause we’re a team, Wonwoo,” she chuckled. “You’ve done your fair share of work when we took down Gavin and Ezra. But admittedly…I've got more bones to pick with Leo. I think it’s only fair for me to orchestrate his downfall with my own two hands.”

“Right…” Wonwoo agreed with a hint of fondness in his tone that completely went over Emma’s head—far too triumphant with her newfound ammunition.

“We’re a team.”

But it wasn’t always that way.

Wonwoo was actually more deeply involved in Emma’s mission to exact revenge on the people who’ve wronged her years ago than one would otherwise expect. He’d been best friends with Leo since they were kids, and when they eventually met Gavin and Ezra in their high school basketball team, the four of them were quite inseparable.

But despite being his best friend, Wonwoo knew that Leo could be quite…off-putting with his behavior sometimes.

“Hey, look at that,” Sixteen year-old Leo scoffed before gesturing towards the loud girl earning amused stares in the cafeteria. “She's so fucking loud. Is she the new transfer student?”

Gavin snickered as he took a bite out of his lunch. “How'd she even get in here? Our tuition isn't a joke, and she doesn't really look like she can afford it. The kid of a maid, maybe?”

“Or she could be one of those financial scholarship kids,” Ezra pitched in with a shrug. “Though she doesn't look very bright if we're being honest.”

Wonwoo didn’t offer anything to the conversation, merely eating his food quietly as his friends talked smack about the new transfer student in their class. Emma Rodriguez was like a piece of meat thrown into a pit of vipers. Some might like her—like the classmates who were howling with laughter because of her antics—but others looked at her with disdain.

She didn’t belong to any wealthy well-known families like every other kid in their grade. The girl simply popped out of nowhere like an eyesore, according to Leo. Wonwoo didn’t really mind her presence though. She made the boring monotone of his school days a bit more bearable with her energy.

But what Wonwoo thought was just his friends’ surface-level dislike for a girl who behaved differently from the others in their grade turned out to be something else.

Something worse.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew what bullying was, and was well-aware that what his friends constantly did to Emma wasn’t something that normal high schoolers did. Leo was the most vicious about it, and Wonwoo never really got to know his reasons for doing all those horrible things.

But whenever they spotted Emma horsing around in the hallways, Leo would always be the first one to come up to her—calling her names like fraud, gold digger, and the like. Gavin and Ezra followed each and every time, and they were usually the ones who pushed her around for no real reason.

And Wonwoo? Wonwoo was the one who always stood a few feet away every time his friends decided they were in the mood to pick on the transfer student. The one who always stayed quiet and pretended nothing unsightly was happening in front of him.

The one whose gaze Emma always tried to silently catch, hoping he’d be the one to stop his friends from harassing her.

But he never did.

That cycle of three boys bullying a once bright and bubbly transfer student became commonplace. Before their third year in high school came to a close, Emma suddenly vanished off the radar. She didn’t attend their classes, nor was she there in the completion ceremonies at the end of every school year.

Most of the kids around Wonwoo didn’t really give two shits about her sudden disappearance. Word around the street was that she transferred out because of the heavy harassment she was getting, not just from his friends, but also the rest of the students from their grade. They didn’t think Emma was funny because of her silly antics and loud jokes anymore.

Everyone started to collectively think of her as a nuisance, and the fact that she had no familial connections to protect herself with only fed into the senseless yet oh-so popular trend of crushing Emma Rodriguez’s hopes and dreams into the ground.

It was almost like Wonwoo was the only person in their entire grade who felt the tiniest bit of pity for her. But he told himself long ago that someone like him had no right to feel sorry for someone he never bothered trying to help.

The years passed by in a flash. After Emma’s disappearance, Wonwoo quit the basketball team and completely cut off his friends and everyone else who actively hurt her. He didn’t really know why either—all he knew was that he couldn’t stomach the idea of keeping those connections despite what they drove Emma to do.

Of course, he knew he wasn’t completely innocent either. But it wasn’t too late to be a decent person, right?

Wonwoo simply went through the motions of graduating high school, then college, before pursuing a career in the vicious world of the corporate hierarchy. But instead of gunning for executive positions like his fellow fresh grads dared to dream, he worked his way up without using his family’s prestige to his own advantage.

In fact, Wonwoo realized he liked working closely with his bosses. That’s why he became the designated secretary to all the finance department heads who walked through the doors of PLEDIS Insurance. He was content with being a jack-of-all-trades kind of guy who’s at the beck and call of someone else—a tool who worked on the sidelines. He never really wanted to be the face of any company anyway.

But then, in his fifth year on the job, he was told that there were a couple of changes in PLEDIS’ executive board. The boss he’d been working under was set to retire and he’d be replaced with a new one—someone younger and full of promise, as the head of human resources dramatically explained to him.

It wasn’t really a deal breaker or anything. As long as Wonwoo got paid, he’d gladly work for even the most terrible of people in this industry.

But on the day his new boss was set to start, he was haunted by a ghost from the past instead.

Wonwoo hasn’t spared a single thought for Emma Rodriguez in God knows how long. Yet the moment she stepped into the office, he recognized her almost immediately. There was no trace of that girl people called gold digger and other derogatory names because of her appearance. This was a woman with her head held high—someone who oozed confidence in every stride with a gaze sharper than her winged eyeliner.

Yet Wonwoo couldn’t be mistaken. This really was Emma Rodriguez.

He wondered if she remembered him, too. The boy who kept quiet about those who bullied her in those few crucial years of her life. Wonwoo even considered apologizing for not doing anything to help her when he should have.

“Ah, Wonwoo Jeon?” Emma repeated his name with a dismissive air, almost like she was wholly uninterested in him. “The one who just watched when Gavin Kim pushed me in the muddy courtyard at school? The one who pretended not to see when Leo Choi splashed paint all over my uniform? Of course I remember you.”

God. Was this her exacting retribution?

For the next few days since she came into the office, Wonwoo helped Emma get used to the feel of things in the Finance Department. At least, that was his intention.

From the looks of it, Emma already knew the ins-and-outs of managing a company’s cash inflow and outflow, as well as the other gritty, more technical details that came with accounting for each and every cent. She managed to prepare and present several sets of data that his previous boss had trouble organizing to the current board of directors within two days’ time.

Her work ethic was admirable—she got the job done quickly and efficiently, and that made her earn the respect of her subordinates faster than Wonwoo had seen them warm up to their previous bosses. It would have been the perfect relationship between the new department head and her employees, if it weren’t for Emma’s stone cold behavior towards other people.

Not only did she look different from the Emma he knew in high school, but she acted differently too. Wonwoo couldn’t picture this Emma purposely making a fool out of herself just to make the people around her laugh. This Emma wanted the entire team to get the work handed to them done as soon as possible, and if they did, the most they’d receive in return is a mere nod in approval and nothing else.

It was for that reason that employees would start calling her the Ice Queen. Though she wasn’t some tyrant that gave people an unreasonable workload—she was actually very lenient and fair about the division of tasks—her people skills needed a little work.

That or Emma was purposely shutting everyone out with her chilly attitude.

Wonwoo had a few clues as to why she’d want to do that, but he’s a secretary, not a therapist. The only thing he could do about it was to keep his silence.

But then came a day when Emma asked him to come into her office to do something he completely expected from her but didn’t at the same time.

“Are you still in touch with Leo, Gavin, and Ezra?” she asked him, not even bothering to look up from the report she’s reading off her PC.

The question caught Wonwoo off-guard and it was obvious Emma caught on to his reaction if the tiny smirk that curved across her lips was anything to go by. Still, he took it in stride—breathing in through his nose as he thought about his answer.

He hasn’t been in touch with any of them since his high school graduation. All their attempts at reaching out to Wonwoo to invite him for a quick game of ball or a round of drinks somewhere in the city were all ignored. Not even turned down—ignored.

Leo was the most persistent about it. After all, they were best friends. But after several years of Wonwoo not even bothering to give their invites a single glance, Leo stopped reaching out altogether. Wonwoo's life became a lot more peaceful since he cut ties with them, and he never really regretted the decision to do so.

But perhaps the universe really was telling him to pay the price for his past inaction now that Emma was bringing up the past on a regular Wednesday afternoon.

“No, ma’am,” he told her honestly. “Do you want me to reach out to them? Their contact details are pretty easy to get our hands on.”

Emma sighed quietly before meeting his gaze, an unreadable look hovering across her face. “Mmm. Yeah, I’d like that. But aren't you going to ask why I want to contact them again?”

He wanted to, but Wonwoo learned that in his line of work, the last thing he should do was ask questions. It made him wonder if Emma was purposely setting him up on some sort of conversational bear trap, but seeing as he didn’t really have anything to lose by giving, he chose to relent.

“...Why?”

The silence of her office rang in his ears as Emma typed away on her keyboard. It was a mechanical one with tactile switches that matched the color of her desktop wallpaper. He didn’t take her to be someone who cared enough about aesthetics to that degree, but then again, Wonwoo never really got a chance to get to know her back then.

He was too much of a coward to do so.

Once she was done, Emma got up from her ergonomic chair (which also matched her desktop setup), leveling her gaze with Wonwoo's even if the latter was easily a head taller than she was. Something about the glint in her eyes made him swallow the lump in his throat. Not to mention that sweet yet chilly smile that graced her bright red lips.

“It’s really simple, Wonwoo,” she told him with a laugh.

“I want revenge.”

And that’s how their little team was formed.

It was a two-person job. Emma entrusted Wonwoo with digging up the information she needed about the three men she wanted to bring down, all while she was in charge of putting their plans into motion by heading over to the front lines.

Gavin was an easy target. Unlike the other two, he’s the only one who pursued professional basketball and for a while, he amassed quite the number of fans and admirers because of his outstanding plays. What’s more was that he managed to wife up a beauty queen who’s already conquered the international stage a few years back. Now with their first baby on the way, one would think that Gavin Kim has a picture perfect life.

But further down the road, talk about how he’s actually a womanizing wife beater started to seep out of the cracks and crevices of the athletic industry. The allegations were serious, but no one really bothered batting an eye. It’s normal. Lots of athletes are like that. We can't do anything about it.

It was easy to get a hold of which gym Gavin frequents to maintain his physique. He preferred working out in public facilities instead of the one provided for his team because it gave him all the freedom to ogle and flirt with other women who just happened to be hitting the gym on days he was on the prowl.

Wonwoo even added a little footnote in the file he prepared that said likes to engage in post-workout coitus in the shower rooms. Emma rolled her eyes in disgust when she read it, but made sure to keep it in mind.

The day finally came when she’d collect enough evidence to ruin Gavin’s career. Emma hasn’t dropped by the gym in a while—work having sapped her energy too much to let her psych herself back into working out. But she realized she didn’t have to act out too much because the moment she started operating the treadmill right next to Gavin’s, he was already checking her out.

He didn’t seem to recognize who she was, unlike Wonwoo. But then again Gavin was easily the stupidest out of her trio of high school bullies. This man was all brawn and no brains, which was why it was all too easy for Emma to seduce him in the showers of this shoddy gym not thirty minutes since she’d arrived.

It wasn’t the most pleasant experience. The last thing Emma wanted was to have this idiotic man inside of her so she offered to go on her knees and blow him instead—something that Gavin was all too happy to relent to.

He didn’t even boast a cock of considerable size. It probably wasn’t any longer than her middle finger, and for a split second, she wondered why his beauty queen wife stayed with him despite having a cock that didn’t back up his cocky attitude. It was probably the money.

Emma didn’t waste much time though. Wonwoo visited this gym only a few hours prior to plant a bug somewhere inside the specific shower stall they were currently occupying. She just had to hope she and Gavin were positioned well enough so the camera would get a full view of what they were doing.

It was the longest twenty minutes of Emma’s life, and she had to go home right away to disinfect her mouth about ten times, but hey. All in the name of vengeance, right?

At around eight in the evening on that same Saturday, her phone lit up with an email notification from Wonwoo.

From: Wonwoo Jeon Subject: CLASSIFIED Good evening, Miss Emma. I hope this message finds you well. I retrieved our bug from the gym earlier today and extracted the videos taken before properly disposing of it. Attached to this email is the MP4 file of our evidence against Mr. Gavin Kim. Around the time this message arrives to you, I have simultaneously sent said evidence to Mr. Kim’s managers, sponsors, teammates, other colleagues, and of course, his wife. The only difference between their emails and yours is that this is a self-destructing message. Once you’ve closed this window, it will be deleted from your inbox without a trace. So if you are interested in watching the video below, best save it to your device of choice for better perusal. If you have any further questions and concerns, I am merely a text message away. Regards, Wonwoo Jeon Secretary, Finance and Logistics Department PLEDIS Insurance

Like hell she was going to watch it.

The moment Emma finished reading through Wonwoo's overly formal email, she quickly exited the window and, true to his word, the message itself had disappeared. Despite being a fairly new player to the game, she had to commend all the precautions Wonwoo was setting to make sure her plans were a success.

It made her wonder if his previous bosses have also asked him to do shady things under the company’s nose in the past. Whether or not that's true, she was reaping the benefits of his expertise, so she had no room for complaints.

As long as she had Wonwoo, she’d get to punish everyone who wronged her without fail.

Gavin’s downfall followed soon after.

Tabloids were their best friend in that scenario. The thumbnail of the video that Wonwoo spread around like some virus that wouldn’t stop replicating headlined every single paper, talking about how one of the most promising basketball stars of their generation had fallen prey to his own vices.

It was a good thing that not only was Wonwoo careful enough to not leave digital footprints as he sent out those emails, but he also edited the video to keep Emma’s identity a secret. As Gavin’s world started to crumble before his eyes—him being kicked off the starting roster of the team, his wife leaving him behind, and the public execution of his reputation—Emma simply shared a bottle of aged wine from Tuscany with the man who helped her pull off a wonderful performance.

“You’re not too bad,” she mused as she took a small sip, crossing her legs from where she’s seated unceremoniously on the edge of her desk. “You're surprisingly more on-board with this plan than I thought. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were never friends with Gavin in the first place.”

Wonwoo retained his stoic demeanor, not having touched the glass Emma offered him simply because it was against company regulations to intoxicate himself on the job. “If my boss tells me to ruin someone's life, I'm mandated to do it. I’m just doing what’s written on my job description, ma’am.”

Emma’s lips stretched into a grin as she threw her head back with a laugh. She leaned in closer to Wonwoo, who seemed wholly unfazed by the fact that the gesture granted him an ample view of her cleavage through her blouse.

“Does your job description cover watching and editing your boss' sex scandal so you can mass send it to hundreds of people?” She giggled before leaning back to take another sip of her drink. “You’re in the green for now, Wonwoo. Keep it up and I might just have a pay raise arranged for you with HR if our next escapade is a success.”

He hummed in understanding. “Who’s next?”

In usual Emma fashion, she didn’t give him a straight answer right away. Instead, she hopped back to the carpeted floor of her office—not even wobbling in those thin heels she’s wearing—before rounding her desk to access her computer.

“Have you been watching TV lately? Primetime soap operas?” she asked him as she clicked away on her screen.

Wonwoo shook his head. “They don’t really interest me, ma’am.”

“I figured they wouldn’t. But this might.”

Emma gestured for him to peer at her monitor and Wonwoo wordlessly followed suit, getting up from his seat and standing behind her. Flashed on the screen was an article from a more reputable news outlet that featured two co-stars who played the main couple in a popular network’s newest drama.

“Ezra Lee and Alaina Park…” Wonwoo muttered under his breath before his eyes flickered to Emma. “You have any leads I can work with?”

His boss chuckled before looking up at him with an expectant smile. “Someone's determined. I never thought I’d get to see someone so eager to do the dirty work for me.”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Miss Emma, I'm not sure if you're aware but desk work gets boring sometimes. You’re right. This is a lot more interesting.”

“Alright, then,” Emma chuckled before retrieving both of their wine glasses and handing Wonwoo's back to him. “Unlike Gavin, I don't have a lot of surface-level leads with Ezra. He’s a celebrity—their reputation needs to be squeaky clean, so it makes sense why I can’t dig up anything about him through regular means. But this should be a piece of cake for you, right?”

Wonwoo stared at the bright red liquor inside the expensive glass, gaze darting to the wicked smile playing on Emma’s lips. If he looked a little closer, he would be able to tell that the shade of her lipstick matches the color of the liquor in her hands.

He took it from her grasp with a sigh, clinking the edges of their glasses together before downing the entire thing in one fell swoop. The wine was aged well, and had somewhat of a sweet aftertaste, but despite the appealing flavor, Wonwoo reminded himself to never drink on the job ever again.

“I’ll get back to you once I have the information you need.”

Wonwoo swiftly left Emma’s office after that little victory party. Even with his new sideline of being his boss’s lead henchman, he still had a lot of work to do for PLEDIS Insurance. And that included telling the other employees to quit horsing around in the break room when their designated lunch break ended hours ago.

“Sir Wonwoo,” one of said employees, Soonyoung, snickered before throwing an arm over Wonwoo's shoulders. “You've been hanging out in Miss Emma's office pretty frequently. Is there something going on? You became close real quickly.”

“Yeah” said one Seokmin, who’s still snacking on a wafer despite Wonwoo's scolding. “Boss, we know you're not the fuck-your-way-up kind of guy, but who knows, right? But with your position right now, do you really need it?”

Seungkwan, the last member of their unruly trio, slapped Seokmin’s arm with a scowl. “Hey! Do you really have to say it to his face? Oh, boss, if you make a report about these two, please know I have nothing to do with whatever they're saying.”

Soonyoung snickered. “Are you sure about that? Weren't you the one who first noticed that Sir Wonwoo was stepping inside Miss Emma's office more frequently—”

“Hey! Boss told us to scram, didn't he?! Let's go.”

Seungkwan quickly ushered his two friends out of the break room, scolding them in a hushed tone before they all went back to their respective cubicles. Wonwoo shook his head with a sigh, muttering something about inevitable rumors as he made himself a cup of coffee.

Was that how they perceived Wonwoo’s sudden closeness with the department head? That he was fucking Emma in the solitude of her office? Well, the idea of a boss having illicit relations with their secretary wasn’t too far-fetched. He’s heard about how the head of the Advertising Department gets frisky with his secretary through the corporate grapevine. But just because it was a popular trope among the employees’ strange fantasies, it didn’t mean it applied to himself and Emma as well.

They were strictly professional: he did the dirty work and she paid him in full. That was all there was to it.

(But what people don’t know was that editing Gavin’s scandal wasn’t exactly the walk in the park Emma thought it was.

Despite being one of the most indifferent people in the company, Wonwoo was still a man. Seeing his boss, whose body would be coveted by anyone who dared to want her, in such a compromising position excited an…unexpected physiological reaction out of him.

His resolve was as sturdy as steel, however. Instead of taking care of the obvious problem in his pants as he edited the scandalous video, Wonwoo dealt with it by taking a long, cold shower until all the blood that rushed down south started circulating properly again.

He told himself not to think about it come morning.)

“A drug den?”

Even Emma was baffled by the news that Wonwoo brought her the following week—a scowl of disbelief permanently etched on her face as she scanned the file her secretary prepared for her. Wonwoo merely stood at her side, waiting for her to finish going through the data he’s gathered.

And he sure hoped she understood every single word printed on it. He practically risked his life trying to investigate Ezra’s secret business. No wonder it was so hard to dig up any dirt on him—dead men tell no tales after all.

“This is…” Emma swallowed thickly before continuing, “way above my expectations. If he was just getting faded on his own with a private dealer, I'd understand. Lots of celebrities do recreational drugs. But for him to head an entire operation? Where'd he find the time on top of his taping schedules?”

Wonwoo sighed. “I would’ve been able to investigate further if his men weren't so meticulous. They're fiercely loyal to Ezra. Couldn’t bribe him like we did with Gavin’s gym coach.”

“And you made sure to keep your identity under lockdown?”

“Positive.”

Emma drummed her fingers across the smooth surface of her work desk—brows furrowed as she stared into nothingness. Though they’ve only been working together for roughly six months at most, Wonwoo knew her well enough to realize she hit a wall.

It made him wonder if this was where she would draw the line. Their success with Gavin gave them both an unexpected high, sure, but Wonwoo recognized that this game they were playing was a dangerous one. The people they were trying to take down had more money and connections than the two of them could ever hope to get their hands on.

But one thing that he failed to recognize right away about Emma was that she’s always been grossly ambitious.

“The file you gave me also mentioned na he was hoping to insure his new house in Incheon,” she pointed out. “Care to tell me why you decided to include that?”

“I know you told me not to involve the company in this as much as we can, but I couldn’t think of any other way to penetrate into his circle.” Wonwoo adjusted his necktie, suddenly feeling like he’s being watched by the hawk that was his boss. “I’ve been told that he’s wary of people. Side effects of the cocaine, probably. Though the info broker sounded like he was joking, it’s best to be wary of him. If he can hide behind the protection of his management and his family, we need to play our cards right and protect ourselves, too.”

Emma took a moment to process what her secretary just told her, nodding slowly before closing the folder containing Ezra’s file and locking it inside a hidden drawer beneath her desk.

“Oh, Wonwoo. If only all men were as intelligent as you are,” she sighed, getting up from her seat before pinching his face. “Good work. Let's go out for drinks later. My treat.”

Wonwoo's face twisted with confusion. “For what? Doing my job?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “For going above and beyond every single time. You think you're only good at doing dirty work? At being my errand boy? You never fall behind your quotas here in the office either, you know. I think that in itself is a cause for celebration.”

Now that she’s reasoned it out, Wonwoo was even more weirded out by this strange turn of events. In the six months that Emma Rodriguez has spent as the head of PLEDIS Insurance’s Finance head, she never failed to uphold that arctic cold façade. She treated both executives and regular employees with the same degree of cut-throat harshness.

And that’s when Wonwoo realized that she didn’t really treat him the way she treated them.

Huh. Did the Ice Queen have a melting point after all?

Despite his extensive protests, however, Wonwoo let Emma rope him into grabbing dinner and drinks at a food hub several districts away from their office. The fewer people who could recognize them outside, the better. Of course, he pleaded and reminded her several times that she was his boss and she really didn’t have to—

“Hey! Keep drinking!” Emma slurred with a huff, face red from the alcohol as she pushed another pint of beer into Wonwoo's face. “Why aren't you drunk yet, huh, Wonwoo Jeon? Are you God? Maybe that's why you're so good at obtaining information for me. Ah! No! Maybe you're the devil! Right, what we're doing isn't exactly good nor is it legal…”

Wonwoo exhaled long and hard as his boss continued blabbering nonsense across from him at their shared table. One glance at the smartwatch on his wrist told him that it was near midnight and that he should probably bring Emma home before she could make a scene.

But…maybe they could stay for a few minutes more.

“Miss Emma? Are you sleepy?”

“Hm? Why would I be sleepy? We're drinking, aren't we?”

“You're half-asleep on the table, so.”

At the prospect of being called out, Emma quickly shot into an upright position—looking around to see if anyone caught her drooling. When she realized she was in the clear, she narrowed her eyes at Wonwoo.

“Not a word about this in the office,” she warned, using one of the finished barbecue sticks on their empty plates to threaten him. “But...yeah. Alcohol makes me sleepy. Drive me home.”

Not even a please. This woman was really shameless even when drunk.

Not a peep of complaint was heard from Wonwoo when he drove Emma all the way to her condo unit in uptown Poblacion. Though he had to practically carry her inside and even help her out of her clothes and into her pajamas (at her request, not his own initiative), he simply told himself this was all part of his job.

When his boss was safely tucked in bed, he was ready to bid her farewell and head back to his own place to catch up on some sleep. But for someone who was intoxicated beyond belief, Emma was still quite aware of her surroundings. The moment Wonwoo took a step away from her bed, her hand shot out to grab ahold of his wrist, making Wonwoo look back at her with an eyebrow raised.

“Wonwoo,” she murmured, face still smothered in her pillows despite her tight grip. “Can you stay?”

“There's nowhere for me to sleep,” he chuckled. “I should go.”

“Then sleep next to me.”

The furrow on his brow merely deepened. He’d ask her to repeat what she said, but Wonwoo could recognize that Emma wasn’t really in the headspace to be reasonable right now. So instead of refuting her wish, Wonwoo carefully pried her fingers off his wrist so he could take off his work coat and fold it neatly on top of her vanity table.

This is all part of the job, he told himself.

Wonwoo laid on his boss’ duvet perfectly still. He didn’t want to make the mistake of touching her when he didn’t have explicit permission to do so. He was merely told to sleep next to her after all—nothing else.

But about fifteen minutes after he lied next to her, Emma shifted on her side of the bed—turning to him with a sleepy look in her eyes.

“You know,” she whispered, so softly, he would’ve missed it if he wasn’t as observant as he was. “I hoped...so hard back then that you would help me when I needed it. But you never did.”

Emma probably won’t remember what she mumbled in her drunken stupor in the morning. But the sadness and honesty that underlined her words sent him back about ten years into the past. To a time when he was a much greater evil than those who directly wronged her.

An apology sizzled across the tip of his tongue—something that’s a decade overdue. But before Wonwoo could hope to let her hear his piece, Emma’s breathing had become even and shallow.

She was already fast asleep.

He sighed, staring up at the dainty ceiling of her bedroom as he chuckled helplessly to himself.

“That’s why I’m making up for it now.”

If Gavin’s case was a walk in the park, Ezra’s was an Olympic-level marathon.

Wonwoo didn’t want to dwell on the details anymore. To cut it short: he was going to cross out ‘exposing a notorious drug lord’ off his bucket list without thinking of doing it again ever. While he managed to get out unscathed during his investigation, it just so happened that their final altercation with Ezra ended up putting Wonwoo in the hospital.

But so what if he fractured a couple of ribs trying to save Emma from being killed by that drug-addicted lunatic? As long as their goal to bring Emma’s enemies down was achieved, he’d gladly sustain any life-threatening injuries.

Which was, admittedly…strange.

Long before Emma came into the picture as his boss, Wonwoo never would’ve pictured himself risking his neck for the benefit of someone else. Though he had an entire arsenal of skills and knowledge at his disposal, it would take more than just his generous salary to get him to put them to good use.

But with Emma, he found himself utilizing whatever means to help her exact her revenge—on people he once called his friends, much less.

He must be going insane.

“Wonwoo…?”

Funnily enough, he ended up recalling everything that happened over the past two weeks first before recognizing that he was just regaining consciousness in the intensive care unit. Wonwoo's eyes hurt because of how bright the fluorescent lights were overhead, but for some reason, he didn’t flinch away from her relieved smile when it was a million watts brighter than the hospital’s indoor lighting.

“Good…day, ma’am,” he croaked out awkwardly, belatedly realizing that he didn’t know what time it was. “What day is it? Did someone fix your schedule for today? Did someone go over your meal plans in my stead? Were you—”

His endless stream of questions was interrupted by hacking fit—making Emma scramble for a glass of water on the table by his hospital bed, a concerned look lining her gaze.

“Don't talk too much,” she scolded him as he finished his drink. “You’ve been out for two days, idiot.”

Two days?

Needless to say, he couldn’t do a thing about it once his boss started fussing over him. She called over doctors she personally knew and handpicked only the most competent of nurses to look after Wonwoo. How Emma could be the judge of that, Wonwoo wasn’t very sure, but he gladly let her take care of him for a change.

After all, they successfully concluded another chapter in Emma’s little revenge story.

“When are we going to start with Leo?”

Wonwoo brought the matter up about three days after he woke up, right in the middle of eating the stale hospital food served to him for dinner. Emma, who was snacking on some takeout fast food, hummed before tossing a french fry into her mouth.

“You're not even healed yet, and you're thinking about work?” she sighed before pointing a fry in his direction. “I’m still paying you your regular wage even if you're stuck here. You don’t have to worry about making ends meet so much, Wonwoo. You just need to rest—”

“But I don’t want to rest, I want to be useful to you,” he interrupted her gruffly, which was strange of him because he never interrupted his employers.

For a moment, Wonwoo thought he’d be on the receiving end of a verbal lashing even if he was still recovering. Emma never let other people talk back to her without consequences. But instead, his boss threw her head back with a laugh that bordered on a snort. It’s a look that Wonwoo had seen on her time and time again—a look that he noticed Emma only showed to him.

Back then, he didn’t really think of her smile all that much. But now…

“You’re being useful enough just by being alive, Jeon,” she reassured him, that grin of hers unwavering. “Enough questions about Leo. I'm not even thinking about him yet because compared to the previous two? He’s a lot easier to track down.”

Wonwoo shot her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“Same approach lang with Ezra.” She flashed him a toothy smile. “We’re going to get him to insure some of his properties under PLEDIS. But instead of us going to him, he'll be going to us instead.”

“I…? Sorry, ma’am. I don’t follow.”

Emma stifled a soft laugh behind her palm, unwrapping the burger included in her takeout meal before taking a bite of considerable size. “The Choi Corporation is expanding a chain of shopping malls somewhere in Jeju. Leo Choi personally contacted our CEO and there we have it: another big shot client.”

Another person to drag down to hell.

“Is that good enough for you?”

Wonwoo was still processing the news as they both finished up their respective meals. He should probably be glad that Emma didn’t decide to put their secret operation on hold just because he was out of commission. But something about how smoothly they’re progressing into the next phase of Emma’s big revenge plan that made him wary of treading any further.

He felt like he was being paranoid—probably the aftermath of almost crossing to the other side because of what happened with the Ezra incident. Wonwoo couldn’t help but be wary of any and all threats to both his life and Emma’s, and it was for a good reason.

“Okay,” Wonwoo breathed, wincing a little when he felt the spot where his ribs broke ache at how fast he inhaled. “What do you want me to do for now? Investigate? Trace his whereabouts?”

Emma’s smile suddenly turned ice cold. “I want you to rest, Wonwoo. Do I have to keep repeating myself?”

“But—”

“No buts. Boss’ orders—I'm your boss, right?”

Ah, there’s the Ice Queen they all knew and loved.

Fine. Maybe he could use a break from all that quote-unquote field work he just did. But one thing about his entire hospitalization still remained unanswered.

“What did you tell HR? About…this?” Wonwoo gestured towards his battered but healing body. “You’ve got the charisma, but I’m pretty sure it’s difficult even for you to go into cahoots with the other employees of PLEDIS. Much more, our human resources head.”

Emma waved away his concerns with a shake of her head. “You're so persistent, aren't you? Don’t think about HR. Or Leo. Or the rest of our plans. Can’t you be a normal salaryman and be happy that you have a break from all the things I make you do?”

“I told you, Miss Emma. I just want to make myself useful.”

“And I told you that you're the least useful in your current state. So give. It. A. Rest,” she threatened, putting emphasis on every syllable.

But behind her intimidating façade was someone who actually cared for him. The details were still a bit muddled in Wonwoo's head, but he remembered being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. Remembered how Emma never let go of his hand as they made the trip all the way. And how he heard her pray for him to make it out alive despite being a well-known agnostic.

Once their conversation had mellowed down, he laid back against the steady elevation of his bed, watching the scenic city lights glimmer outside the window of his hospital room—just behind the woman who made his life a lot more interesting.

He couldn’t wait to be useful to her again.

“I hate this. I fucking hate this so much.”

Wonwoo spared his employer a quick glance as she practically glared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. He’d been browsing through a sports car catalog tucked underneath the hotel’s coffee table, but watching Emma have a furious meltdown about her wedding was more worth his time.

“You're the one who said that there'll more benefits if you accepted the marriage proposal,” her secretary reminded, crossing his legs as he leaned back on the couch he was sitting on. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Of course I was just…gaslighting myself about this entire fucked up situation!” Emma growled as she stomped over to him with a scowl. “Can’t fucking believe my dad agreed to marry me off just like that, too. After all his talk that I needed to love whoever I'm supposed to marry...”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Anyone can be blinded by money—especially if it's from the Chois.”

“Even you?”

It’s a question that sunk into the room with a rhetorical implication. Emma was quick to exchange the earrings her stylist chose for her with something more suited to her taste—a pair that didn’t sparkle all that much but was worth more than six months of Wonwoo's salary. In her reflection on the vanity mirror, he could clearly see the way her red lips parted in concentration as she clipped the earrings in place.

“No,” Wonwoo responded even if he knew she wasn’t looking for an answer. “I’m more easily blinded by other things, ma’am.”

Emma glanced behind her with a puzzled look, not getting his drift. “Like what?”

Wonwoo didn’t dare think twice.

He got up from his once comfortable position on the couch, closing the distance that sat between him and Emma in long, calculated strides. She didn’t seem fazed by his sudden need to walk over, but the moment Wonwoo was behind her, she stiffened when he reached a hand in front of her face. Then, with a firm yet featherlight touch, her secretary wiped off the lipstick that stained past her lip line with his fingers—not once breaking eye contact with her in the mirror.

“It wouldn’t be fun if I told you, now would it?” He smiled before pulling his hand back. “I need to keep you on your toes sometimes, too, Miss Emma.”

He half-expected her to scoff and brush off his attempt at being smart with her. Emma was a no-nonsense kind of person, and with the wedding happening soon, Wonwoo understood why she’d be more high-strung than usual.

But instead of acting the way she always did with him, Emma took Wonwoo by surprise when she fisted his silken necktie in her manicured nails, tugging him down so that their eyes were leveled with each other. Normally, that wouldn’t be enough to wrestle Wonwoo into complete submission, but this was his boss they were talking about.

There’s a glint in those sharp eyes of hers that had his heart beating off the charts. This wasn’t the gaze of someone entitled the Ice Queen of their office. No, there’s something warm in there—borderline sensual. And before Wonwoo could even hope to figure out what it was, Emma was already closing her eyes and sealing their lips together like some unspoken pact.

It’s an inconsequential kiss. Wonwoo has made out with both men and women alike—all desperate gasps and lust-fueled passion—but somehow, none of those experiences could hold a candle to the way Emma Rodriguez pecked his lips for a fraction of a second before pulling away.

“You're getting more and more insufferable,” she muttered, resting her forehead against his. “You were never this cheeky before. What happened?”

You, he wanted to tell her. You happened.

At that point, Wonwoo's brain was merely operating on carnal instinct alone. He lunged forward to capture her lips again, making her gasp in surprise as he snaked a strong arm around her waist. Thank fucking god Emma’s wedding dress had a simple design—no pretentious frills to obstruct his movements.

Despite the fact that this woman—his boss—was getting married in less than two hours, Wonwoo couldn’t even give a damn. He swiped all the makeup boxes and accessories off the vanity table, propping Emma up on the horizontal surface as he kissed her until she saw stars.

“Wonwoo,” she sighed against his lips, thighs inching apart as he bunched the long hem of her gown up to her waist. He wondered distantly if Emma was going to ask him to stop—to see reason. But the glazed look in her eyes told him otherwise.

“More.”

Wonwoo wanted nothing more than to give her more. He’d do everything she could ever dream of asking him. Never mind the fact that it was more than a little messed up for him to consider fucking his boss right before she’s married off to the man who tormented her endlessly at sixteen.

Nobody else mattered—not Leo, not the director, not even Emma’s intricate revenge plot that was years in the making. At that moment, only the two of them existed, only separated by a few layers of clothing before they could finally become one.

But Wonwoo was abruptly reminded why he always chose reason before ambition long before he met Emma. Dreams and delusions were bound to end when you least expected them to. Reality, on the other hand, would always remind you of life’s harshest truths.

“Miss Emma?” They both could hear the voice of Leo's personal assistant outside the door to the hotel room, preceded by a few short knocks. “It’s time for your prenup shoot. Director Rodriguez is also looking for Sir Wonwoo. Is he in there with you?”

Whatever dream the two of them have fabricated only minutes ago had been erased from existence—all that was left was a bride-to-be with her dress ruffled in all the wrong places, and a pitiful secretary with red lipstick stains adorning his face.

“Yeah, he’s here with me,” Emma yelled over to the doorway, eyes refusing to part from Wonwoo's. “We’ll be down soon. Thanks, Christina.”

“Okay, ma’am. I'll just wait for you in the lobby.”

Wonwoo counted to ten before peeling himself away from Emma, quickly striding towards the bathroom to get some tissues both for himself and his employer. But while he was wiping off the lipstick on the corners of his mouth, Wonwoo immediately noticed the shift in the atmosphere.

Emma was already busy straightening herself out—smoothing down the creases in her gown and retouching her makeup as best as she could without her stylists. Wonwoo wouldn’t have minded the silence, it’s exactly the kind of setting he preferred working in.

But just when he thought he’d managed to melt the Ice Queen’s heart over the past year, she turned arctic cold all over again.

“After the wedding, tell my driver to accompany me to Leo's penthouse. Though I despise the idea, we have to go home together to keep up the act for everyone to see.” She gave her orders the same way she used to tell Wonwoo to sort the company’s financial reports—straight to business with little room for playing around. “Other than that, I don't have any more orders. You can rest easy for the day, Wonwoo.”

He felt like he should say something to address what just happened between them five minutes ago. To ask why she was pretending as if they weren’t breathing each other in like all the oxygen on the planet had gone in a flash. But Wonwoo wasn’t some desperate fool that overestimated his place in Emma’s life.

“Duly noted, ma’am,” he muttered with the same degree of aloofness she’d just given him before tossing the soiled tissues in the trash. “I’ll be waiting for you outside.”

Emma didn’t even break face as Wonwoo's footsteps resounded on the carpeted floor. She didn’t even spare him a second glance. But then again…

He was her secretary, and she was his employer.

That was all there was to it.

Much to Wonwoo's surprise, Leo's case was closed much sooner than he thought it would be.

Before Emma could even make it to the cathedral, the commotion had already started. Wonwoo had arrived earlier in the venue with Emma’s father, the director of PLEDIS Insurance, and were just about to take their seats among the other principal sponsors when the television screens mounted all over the church suddenly started playing a video.

A video that Wonwoo has already seen before.

He didn’t have to glance at Leo to know that he was sporting the most horrified look he could muster upon seeing one of your many sex scandals having an impromptu screening at the cathedral. Collective gasps and disgusted remarks were heard in a chorus of murmurs that reached all the way up to the high ceilings.

Wonwoo could hear Leo's assistant, Christina—who turned out to be part of the sex parties her boss secretly indulged in—barking orders for the church staff to cut the feed. But it was too late. Those who needed to see the truth have already gotten their fill.

Recognizing that his daughter couldn’t possibly be wed to a man with a reputation that’s been tarnished in a church, of all places, Director Rodriguez ordered Wonwoo to contact the bridal car driver and tell him to send Emma straight home instead. It’s a job that Wonwoo got done fairly quickly, and despite the numerous text messages that Emma sent him demanding answers about what happened, he didn’t respond to any of them right away.

After a few hours of digging around, Wonwoo eventually found out that one of Leo's cousins was behind the public exposé. Apparently, said cousin was able to obtain the same footage that Emma acquired and was able to sabotage Leo's attempt at seizing their family riches before Emma could even put her plans into motion.

Well, at least someone else already did the dirty work for them.

As usual, Wonwoo collated all the information he’s gathered in a concise email. This was how he kept Emma up to speed about their progress—through self-destructing emails. He informed her about the involvement of Leo's cousin and how the trash had taken itself out, ensuring that Leo Choi had fallen from the false pedestal he’s clung onto for years.

Their behind-the-scenes mission has been fulfilled.

While he didn’t expect Emma to respond enthusiastically, receiving radio silence in return wasn’t something Wonwoo had anticipated either. But he opted not to read into it much. She must’ve been royally pissed that Leo's demise wasn’t brought about by her own hand, and Wonwoo respected that.

The following Monday after the canceled wedding, however, he ended up finding out the reason behind her silence.

“Boss,” sobbed Seokmin when Wonwoo timed in at the office. “Please don't leave!”

Immediately backing him up was Soonyoung, who didn’t hesitate to hug Wonwoo, even giving him a few pats on the shoulder as if they were old drinking buddies. “It's okay, Sir Wonwoo. You've been here long enough. Maybe it's about time you found your path elsewhere.”

…Huh?

“What are you talking about?” Wonwoo voiced out his confusion. “You’re speaking like I got fired.”

As if on cue, the third member of their trio walked in on the conversation as he sipped on his usual iced americano. Seungkwan stared at Wonwoo with a puzzled expression before saying:

“But weren't you fired, sir? Miss Emma announced it this morning, but I think she left right away after, too.”

Not privy to the way the pieces started to click in his head, Seokmin and Soonyoung kept consoling Wonwoo as he made his way to his (old) cubicle. Emma had been one step ahead too—someone already having packed away most of his belongings in storage boxes. Not to mention the notice of contract termination sitting on his desk. Effective immediately, it says.

“I really don't get it though” Seungkwan droned behind him. “You? The best secretary in the city? Fired just like that?”

Seokmin nodded. “I don't understand it either. You two were business-as-usual after the wedding. Miss Emma must've been so pissed that she didn't get married that she laid off the boss here.”

“True,” Soonyoung agreed with a snicker. “Boss, maybe Miss Emma's just being unreasonable. I bet she'll be begging for you to come back in a few days' time.”

Yeah. That’s what the situation would seem like to an outsider. But Wonwoo knew perfectly well that Emma wasn’t bluffing about this. She fired him for a reason that’s been stewing for more than a decade. Even if Gavin, Ezra, and Leo have had their taste of justice, Emma’s revenge plot wasn’t finished like Wonwoo thought it was.

Because Wonwoo was one of her targets all along, too.

I hoped...so hard back then that you would help me when I needed it. But you never did.

“Where is she?”

Seungkwan perked up. “Uh, maybe she went home? She told us something about feeling a bit under the weather?”

Seokmin nodded. “She's probably in her penthouse or something. If i were you, I'd start making it up to her.”

“Hey, you're talking like they're actually dating,” Soonyoung scolded with a laugh.

Not even bothering to thank them, Wonwoo turned on his heel and made a beeline for the office entrance—dead set on doing exactly what Seokmin jokingly suggested.

This is why I'm making it up to you, he mused with an exasperated air as he buckled up in his car.

Can’t you just let me in?

Emma spent her first Monday after the entire wedding disaster with Leo holed up in her unit—stuffing herself full of ice cream. The only reason she bothered going to the office today was to formally announce that her secretary Wonwoo Jeon was fired—just like she’d been planning since the moment she met him again as her secretary after all these goddamn years.

Her high school bullies have been put in their place. Her fifteen-year revenge plot was finally over.

But why did she feel so fucking depressed about it?

She sighed pitifully when she realized she’d already emptied her tub of double dutch ice cream, finally deigning to get up from the couch to deposit it in the kitchen for later disposal. But just when she was about to continue moping in her living room, the doorbell to her unit buzzed from the entrance, making her glance that way curiously.

It could be her next-door neighbor. A kind, elderly woman who lived with her daughter. She borrowed Emma’s rosemary spices yesterday—something that she barely used because she often opted to go for food deliveries instead of whipping up her own meals.

With that reasoning in mind, she didn’t bother checking who was at the door through the peephole. She simply undid the locks before opening the door—only to come face-to-face with—

“Hey,” Wonwoo sighed as he jammed his foot between the door and the doorframe. “Ma’am, please talk to me first. Did you think I wouldn't catch onto what you were trying to do?”

“Why do I have to explain myself to you? You’re fired, right?” Emma growled as she pushed the door with her back, but sadly, Wonwoo easily overpowered her. At least he was decent enough to not let himself in—he simply lingered out in the hallway with a placid look on his face. “What?”

“Emma,” her ex-secretary addressed her for the first time without any formalities. “If you fired me as vengeance for not helping you all those years ago, I get it. I deserve it, even. But after what happened sa hotel…

“You can’t convince me there’s nothing between us anymore.”

Her breath hitched, face growing warm at the reminder of that intimate moment they shared hours before she was supposed to get married. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could still feel Wonwoo's mouth on hers. But that wasn’t a thought that was healthy to entertain at the moment.

“What are you saying? That was all part of the plan, you know?” She bluffed with a mirthless laugh, fully turning to face him as she crossed her arms. “Make you smitten enough with me to let your guard down. Look, you didn't expect me to fire you, did you?”

“No, but you can’t fool me, Emma,” Wonwoo chuckled with a self-satisfied smirk. “You wanted me too—that was real. If I’m mistaken, then make me leave. Call security on me. If I’m the nuisance you so desperately want me to be, then get rid of me here and now.”

The silence was thick between them. Emma was practically shaking with frustration as Wonwoo stared down at her with that overconfident look on his face. She wanted nothing but to punch him, hit him, slap him—

Kiss him.

Maybe Wonwoo was right. Maybe Emma did want him more than she led herself to believe.

Because why the hell did she fist the front of Wonwoo's work shirt before pulling him inside her penthouse? Why did she slam him against the door, earning a sexy groan from him as she crushed their lips together?

Was this a healthy way to deal with your current predicament? No—definitely not. But it felt too fucking good to pass up on.

Wonwoo, however, was all too quick to regain control—hooking one of Emma’s thighs around his waist as she gasped into his mouth. She could practically feel him smirk against her lips, and though she’s loath to admit, it only made her want him even more.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he chuckled before peppering her neck with love bites. “You might need to kill me first before I stop pursuing you.”

Emma spared him a breathless laugh that quickly melted into a moan when Wonwoo's hand found itself inside her oversized sleep shirt. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were obsessed with me, Jeon.”

His fingers were warm against her skin, and Emma couldn’t help the full-on shudder that racked her body when Wonwoo grazed her bare nipples. The smile on his face was wicked—dangerous, even.

“Maybe I am,” he chuckled, his breath fanning against her flushed face.

“What would you do if I was obsessed with you, Ma’am?”

Emma was well aware that Wonwoo knew the answer to his own question. It was obvious in the way he quickly picked her up from the floor, fully wrapping both her legs around his waist as he carried her towards her bedroom. But despite the carnal urgency in his grip, Wonwoo was awfully gentle as he laid her down on the mattress.

“Last chance to kick me out,” he murmured against her ear as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “You could exact your revenge on me even better, ‘no? I’m giving you the leeway to frame me for forced entry…among other things.”

God. She knew Wonwoo was a little crazy when he accepted Emma’s orders to help her make his old best friends suffer. But the way he looked at her with such crazed desire further confirmed her suspicions.

And she didn’t want her men any other way.

“Fuck me, Wonwoo,” she told him clearly before stripping her own clothes and laying herself bare for him to feast on—eyes lidded, desiring him just as much as he did her. “That’s an order.”

He shook his head with a chuckle, and Emma had to force herself not to drool over his perfectly built torso. If she had more patience, she would’ve taken her time worshiping every inch of Wonwoo's body, but he’d already set a fire in the pit of her stomach. One that she fully expected him to deal with sooner than later.

“So wet for me,” he observed with a lopsided smirk, pressing their foreheads together as he lathered his fingers with her slick. “Have you always wanted me this way? Do you touch yourself to the thought of me, Miss Emma?”

Yes. Fuck, yes.

“That’s none of your business, Jeon,” Emma stubbornly insisted, keeping herself from moaning when his lips descended onto one of her hardened nipples.

Wonwoo made good on the opportunity, using the fingers he’d used to feel up her slick cunt to rub her essence across the other bud he wasn’t suckling on. The effect was near immediate—Emma throwing her head back with a pretty little whimper as Wonwoo started to massage her breasts.

Fuck. He’d always dreamed of getting to smother his face between them.

“Wonwoo,” she gasped out loud, hips bucking desperately when he bit down on her sensitive flesh. “F-Fuck me. Now.”

“Demanding.” He pulled away from her sensitive nipples with a pop, staring up at her with a lustful gaze. “You enjoy ordering me around too much, you know?”

“You enjoy being ordered around, too,” Emma pointed out with a scoff, trying her best not to moan too loudly when Wonwoo's fingers started to toy with her leaking cunt again. “Just—I need you. Please.”

Ah, he never thought the day would come when he’d hear Emma Rodriguez begging for his cock.

“Okay, Ice Queen,” he relented with a playful laugh, kicking his underwear and trousers off as he pumped his already hard length. “Since you're so eager for me to fuck you, I’m not going to prep you anymore. You better not cry when my cock splits you open, okay?”

Hearing him talk so lewdly to her made her pussy gush with excitement. What’s more was that, not only was her secretary blessed with a face and body that gods would covet, but his cock was something she was afraid she’d keep looking for even when he was done with her.

He was awfully careful when he first pushed inside of her, sharp eyes riveted on her face as it twisted with both pain and pleasure alike. His size was something that one needed getting used to, and he wasn’t about to make his first time with Emma uncomfortable for her.

No, he wanted her to keep thinking about him even after they’ve had their fill of each other.

“Squeezing me so fucking tight,” he rasped against her neck, licking a long stripe along the column of her throat to make her shiver. “Too bad you already fired me. I always wondered what it would feel like to bend you over and fuck you in your office.”

He could feel her pussy squeeze his cock even tighter at the shameless image she put in her head, making Wonwoo smirk with pride as he started to move. Emma mewled his name, grabbing his face as he chased his lips. He was all too willing to give her what she wanted, meeting her with an open-mouthed kiss as their tongues clashed together in time with his thrusts.

“W-Wonwoo,” she moaned into his mouth, hips eagerly meeting his. “Deeper. Fuck me deeper.”

And fuck her deeper, he did—Emma’s got him wrapped around her pretty manicured fingers, after all.

Wonwoo was relentless with the way he pounded her into the bed, the sound of skin slapping against skin ringing much too loudly in his ears. But he didn’t fucking care. The feel of Emma’s velvet pussy walls pulsing around his cock sent his mind into a frenzy—fucking her until the bedframe creaked, until Emma was begging him to give her more, more, more—

All of a sudden, she gasped, “Coming, coming—!”

If being inside her was life-changing, feeling her cum around his cock sent Wonwoo straight to heaven. Her cunt spasmed deliciously as Wonwoo helped her ride out her high—lips locked together as they breathed each other in.

“Cum inside me,” she murmured deliriously into his mouth, practically rubbing her breasts—sensitive and littered with all the marks Wonwoo left on them—against his toned chest. “Make me yours, Jeon.”

He didn’t have to be told twice.

“God, I love you,” he sighed a little mindlessly, and those carelessly uttered words made Emma’s eyes widen with surprise before losing herself to the feeling of delirium.

Wonwoo spilled his load inside her quivering cunt with a long-winded moan, feeling like he’d been shot through the head and was experiencing a level of euphoria that bordered on illegal. Emma moaned at the feel of his warm cum filling her to the brim, bringing him down for another sloppy kiss as the heat of the moment started to dissipate in the quiet atmosphere of their bedroom.

As their breaths started to settle, Emma was the first to glance at him—to meet his eyes. Wonwoo couldn’t find any trace of the arctic cold Ice Queen that practically told him to scram the other day at the hotel.

No, it was just Emma.

His Emma.

“Can I still take back my verdict?” she muttered softly, inching closer to bury her face in his chest. Wonwoo instinctively pulled her in for a tender embrace, kissing the crown of her head with a smile.

“You mean the contract termination?” Wonwoo chuckled. “Take it up to HR, Miss Emma. I’m just a lowly secretary.”

All of a sudden, Emma rolled over so that she was seated upright on the bed. Wonwoo had to keep himself from groaning at the sight of her—hair disheveled and body sporting all his marks. Seeing her freshly fucked by him was doing things to his libido.

“You’re not just my secretary, Wonwoo,” she sighed, twiddling with her fingers awkwardly. “I…I wasn’t going to fire you anymore. I got used to your company. I…

“I fell in love with you.”

The words floated between them like a cloud that couldn’t easily be swept up by the wind. Wonwoo offered her a comforting smile before pulling her into a firm kiss.

“Yet you fired me anyway,” he pointed out with a laugh. “Why? You couldn’t deal with the fact that you fell in love with one of your high school bullies?”

That earned him a punch in the shoulder. “You’re not one of them. You’re different.”

“And you’re in love with me too, no? You said it yourself. Since when?”

Shaking his head, Wonwoo then pressed a soft, featherlight kiss on her nose—one that had Emma’s heart fluttering like she was a schoolgirl.

Gosh, this man. He’s fifteen years too late.

“Maybe I’ve always been a little in love with you. Who knows?” Wonwoo spared her a Cheshire cat smile. “There’s more where that came from though.”

Emma punched him in the chest this time—a bit too close to the spot where he broke a few ribs months prior. But he didn’t care.

She could send him to hell and back and he’d do it for her in a heartbeat.

From: Wonwoo Jeon

Subject: NOT-SO CLASSIFIED

Good evening, Miss Emma. I hope this message finds you well.

I heard that you dealt with quite a stressful client today. I’m very sorry that I wasn’t here to help you with the matter as I was given tasks to do elsewhere. In order to make up for this lapse on my part, I am cordially inviting you to dinner at 7PM tonight after work.

Rest assured, the expenses shall be shouldered by me and your only job is to sit and look gorgeous as I wine and dine you for the evening. Sincerely hoping for your most favorable response.

Regards,

Wonwoo Jeon

Secretary, Finance and Logistics Department

PLEDIS Insurance

Your boyfriend :)

end notes: this wasnt thoroughly proofread so if you spot some strange errors (aka sentences in a different language bc this fic was partly in filipino) here and there, pretend you didn't see em! as always, ur feedback means everything to me so scream in the tags or my ask as much as you want ^__^

#svthub #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #lovelyhan #full-length fic 📚#wonwoo x oc #wonwoo x reader

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