#time to write an unhealthy amount of angst

[clockwork-nebula]

Yeaahhh, so we left the plot at home and now we're in Paris and the plot is still in Chicago, sorryy.

#Just the plot of Home Alone #writers block #the plot is lost #we lost it #anyways #time to write an unhealthy amount of angst

[ahundredtimesover]

I Want You to Stay (01) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 12k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Happy 2024, everyone! 🎉 Dropping this tonight as a welcome to the new year and the start of the wild journey that is this story. It's a different JK that I'm used to writing. It's also a different arrangement for me as the story is still being written, so just a heads up that updates won't be as regular compared to before, but they'll definitely come (pls don't come at me hehe 😁)! This is also a painfully slow build-up with lots of details and office talk so please be patient! I don’t know how this will turn out and be revived but I hope you enjoy! 💕

Also my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight as always 🥰

Jung Hoseok’s smile is like a ray of sunshine - warm on cool mornings, radiant on sunny afternoons. It’s light and infectious, but more than anything, it’s genuine. There’s comfort in the way his entire face beams and how the rest of his body follows; there’s this sense of openness that makes it easy to be around him, that makes it easy to work for him.

It was 10 years ago when you first encountered that smile - bright and encouraging as he welcomed you and the rest of the interns to his family’s company. It slowly dissolved the anxiety you were feeling over being 1 of 12 chosen students to work for one of the leading real estate and property development corporations in the country. You’d see it again two years later as an employee, and you recall how he perked up at the sight of you, having remembered those eight weeks you spent preparing the conference room for their meetings and serving the executives their coffee. 

You wouldn’t have expected that five years after that, you’d be seeing that smile everyday as his executive assistant, and it was one of the things that made the job bearable. Despite the long hours and the amount of work you had to do and events you had to accompany him to, working for Hoseok always felt worth it. Despite the insane amount of pressure he was put under and the stress he had to endure, Hoseok somehow always managed to smile. 

He was serious when he had to be, but there was joy in how he did things. He allowed himself moments of calm, of time to check in on his support team for a few laughs. He’d spare himself a few minutes a day to sway to the soft music he plays in his office, he’d preside over meetings with vigor, and he’d start and end every interaction with anyone with that smile - the same smile that assures you that all your hard work is appreciated and which encourages you to keep learning.

It’s that same smile that he has on right now, as he hands you a custom-made cake with ‘you worked hard’ written on it. He says the words as your eyes turn to him in surprise. 

“Thank you for all that you’ve done,” Hoseok says. “I know you were new to the role just like I was but you made everything so easy for me. I’m gonna have to get used to being without your brilliance, Ms. Cho. I hope you never doubt yourself ever again.”

Your astonished face turns into a pout, as it dawns on you that it’s Friday, the first unofficial day of you no longer being Hoseok’s executive assistant, given his appointment as President not long ago. Yet despite the big change he’ll be experiencing starting next week, he’s the one affirming and comforting you, something that’s rare for someone of his stature and something you’ll definitely miss. 

“You know I don’t cry, but I just might,” you respond, earning you a chuckle. “But really, I… I can’t thank you enough for taking a chance on me. I know my credentials weren’t like the others but—”

“Ms. Cho,” he interjects. “The only credentials those other applicants had were the universities they went to, but none of them matched your level of skill and dedication to the role. I can assure you that none of them would’ve managed the past three years like you did. I should be thanking you for dealing with all the craziness with me.”

“You’re a good boss, it’s that simple,” you return the compliment now. “You were patient with me and challenged me to be better without putting me down. That does a lot for a person’s confidence, you know?”

“I know that now,” he smiles again. “But really, I don’t think I could’ve asked for a more competent right-hand woman. Jungkook’s lucky he’s taking my position with the most capable assistant to help him out.”

At the mention of the man’s name, your face sours, something that Hoseok picks up, earning you another laugh. 

“Not a fan of him, I see,” he eyes you curiously.

“I don’t mean any disrespect, Mr. Jung, but your cousin is not you,” you explain. “I may have only seen him a handful of times but those are enough to let me know that he does not smile.”

“Yes, I do confirm that,” Hoseok chuckles. “Jungkook’s quite the perfectionist and very much a workaholic. But he’s brilliant and creative and you’ll learn a lot from him, too. He’s being primed to co-lead the company with me and he needs a strong support for that and I think that’s you. His father thinks that’s you, and for the CEO to think so means a lot, ___. Uncle has seen how you work and was adamant that you remain in this role, especially with his son assuming the Vice President position.”

You know that Hoseok means to reassure you, but you suppose your insecurities over having this role and even being in this company won’t ever really go away. You didn’t graduate from a prestigious university in Seoul like most employees here did, and in this society, that usually means everything. You’re thankful for the trust that you’ve been given and you agree that you worked hard for it, too, but it will always be overwhelming; even then, it sometimes still feels undeserved. 

At your silence, Hoseok speaks again. “___, as your former boss and as your friend, I’m here to back you up. Jungkook’s family but if he, for some reason, acts like a hard-headed jerk, you let me know, okay?”

He turns serious now, as he silently asks for you to promise him that you’ll speak out if you need to. Hoseok knows what you went through under Mrs. Byun, the former manager who abused her power over you until her own slip-up caused her downfall years later, and he doesn’t want you to go through that again. 

“Okay. But I didn’t mean to imply that he’s a jerk just because he doesn’t smile,” you clarify. “I guess I meant to say that… I’ll miss working for you. That’s all. We somehow always got a laugh in, no matter how stressful things were. I’ll miss being with A-yeong, too.”

“I know you also meant to say that I’m the best boss you’ve ever had,” Hoseok chuckles, though you don’t miss the sadness in his eyes, too. “But I’ll just be two floors above you. You’ll still see me everywhere. And A-yeong’s gonna miss you, too, that’s why she can’t let you go without having dinner out, that I’m apparently not invited to.”

“We’re just gonna gossip about you, don’t worry,” you tease, appreciative of the fact that his wife has been kind to you all these years, apologizing to you on his behalf during the rare times he’s cranky, and gifting you little things from their trips abroad. “But thank you again, Hoseok,” you continue, dropping the formalities when you mean to speak to him as a friend, because that’s what he is, and it’s a rarity in this industry where those in power tend to take advantage of those below them. “You’ve treated me well, and I’ll never forget that.” 

“Thank you, ___,” he smiles once more. “I’ll finish setting up my new office now. I’ll see you there in 30 minutes, okay? I know Jungkook officially starts on Monday but he wanted to get all the administrative stuff out of the way as soon as possible and since my old room is being sanitized, he’ll be staying at mine the whole morning. HR has everything he needs to sign so please get those documents from them before heading to my office.”

“Oh, so he’s coming today?” You ask, unable to hide the mix of surprise and disappointment in your voice. You’re clearly uninformed about this. “Didn’t he just arrive last night?”

“Yes, he did. I thought he’d at least spend today resting but no, he called me an hour ago to say he’ll drop by this morning so he can get straight to business on his first day,” Hoseok explains, shaking his head at the thought of his cousin wanting to get straight to work. “I know it’s short notice so you don’t need to brief him or anything yet. You’ve been buried in organizing all my files this past week after all.” 

“Okay, but I’ve got everything organized for him already anyway in case he wants to start,” you say, having prepared all the documents he’d need to ease into his role more smoothly, knowing it’s your job to help him with that. 

“Of course you have,” Hoseok chuckles, impressed as always with how on top you are of everything. “I’ll see you in half an hour.”

You sulk in your seat once he’s out of view, whining internally because much as your files are ready for your new boss, you’re the one who isn’t. You’d held off on mentally preparing yourself for meeting the Jeon Jungkook, second son of the current CEO of Jeon Corporation and the new Vice President, thinking you’d have the entire weekend for that, so you’re caught off guard at having to face him today. It’s one thing to move on from no longer having Jung Hoseok as your boss - that itself took you months to process and accept; it’s another to have to get used to assisting someone else, someone you know is completely different in attitude and approach to his work.

Jungkook used to be an executive in the Singapore office, the Southeast Asian headquarters of the company. In your three years as Hoseok’s assistant, you’d only seen Jungkook a few times, such as when he’d fly to Seoul for an official visit or a family gathering but you never interacted, as you didn’t really have a reason to, especially since you were always busy with making sure the event was running smoothly. 

But you’d definitely noticed him, partly because the female staff always talked about him when he was around, and partly because next to his parents and his cousins, who are all personable in their own ways, Jungkook sticks out like a sore thumb. You’re not exaggerating when you say that you’ve never seen him smile - not for the pictures and not when he’s talking to the other executives and employees, a contrast to his father’s infectious charm and his mother’s youthful energy.

You’ve gotten used to Hoseok’s passion balanced with his thoughtfulness and joy - you always enjoyed the videos that A-yeong would show you of their weekends doing ballroom dancing because it’s what he loved to do with her. You’re unsure how you’ll manage assisting someone who’s the complete opposite. You’ve heard of Jungkook’s abilities though; his father always spoke of them with pride. Creative and innovative, he’d say of his son, but he always lived in his head, too, and perhaps that’s why even if he can socialize with others, he prefers not to, given that you’d always seen him at the bar after said events, drinking on his own.

You didn’t think those times that you’d one day be having him as your boss. You didn’t expect the appointments to come this soon, nor did you expect to still be in the company by the time they happened. But here you are, about to meet him and hoping to the heavens that whatever preconceived notions you have of him based on what very little you know would be proven wrong. 

Wanting to calm yourself down before meeting him, you head to the management support team’s office for a cup of tea in the pantry, but you’re stopped by Do-hyun, one of the project assistants. 

She hugs you like she always does, even if you rarely ever return it, and she whines like you expect her to, given her unusually pouty face. 

“It’s only been an hour but I already miss Mr. Jung,” she laments. “Why did they appoint him as President so soon? They could’ve waited for another year or so, or at least let him take us with him!”

You find yourself being the reasonable one this time, as you pull her away from you so you could talk to her properly. 

“We always knew he was going to be President, Do-hyun. But then the Board decided to make Ji-woo head of the Singapore office after their uncle stepped down, and that meant Hoseok had to take his sister’s place,” you explain, knowing how generational corporations like this work, with family members rotating in the executive positions. “And much as he’d like to take us with him, the position already comes with its own team. He’s just two floors above us, though. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if we popped in every once in a while to say hi.”

“No, I’m bitter,” she pouts again, earning her a laugh from you.

“Well, at least the new Vice President isn’t a stranger,” Manager Lee chimes in. 

“I heard the CEO’s son doesn’t smile,” Do-hyun counters. “How do we go from assisting someone who literally gives all of us the energy to work each day, to someone who doesn’t think there’s anything worth being happy about? I also heard he’s a workaholic, so what if he demands that we can’t leave the office until he does? And that he’s kind of a fuck boy, so what if he has a scandal that we have to—” 

“Yah! Those are just hearsay, and we don’t listen to those,” you warn her, not wanting the team to start on a bad note because of some rumors about your new boss that may or may not be true. 

And if those are, it’s your job to make sure that those are handled properly and that there’s no friction between the management support team and the Vice President. The thought suddenly hits you and you feel nauseous. You’ve never had these worries with Hoseok because he always prioritized the team - he made sure that tasks were properly delegated, that you all took your well-deserved break, that you weren’t burnt out, that you all knew he got your back the way you all got his. 

But then again, it’s natural to be anxious about change, especially when what you had was already the best it could’ve been. And much as you were the one worrying about this earlier, you’re now the one who has to reassure the team, especially the younger members, that things are going to be okay. 

“You’ll meet him soon, and I’ll make sure he’s properly oriented with everything before he sits down with you all,” you say. “Let’s just be optimistic about this, okay? Manager Lee has been here a while and he can guide all of us when it comes to adapting to changes like this.”

The rest of the team nods, voicing their agreement about being open and welcoming to your new boss. 

“Okay, good. Now let me get my tea before I combust,” you chuckle, heading towards the adjacent room. 

You’re busy taking breaths in between sips of your hot drink when you see a familiar face in the room through the glass window, prompting you to head back outside.

“Mr. Ri,” you greet, causing the man before you to turn towards you. “What are you doing here? Does Mr. Jeon need anything?” 

Knowing you’re referring to the elder Jeon, Mr. Ri shakes his head. 

“I’m here as Jungkook’s chauffeur and bodyguard, actually. His father appointed me, wanting people he trusts to help his son,” he clarifies. “I’ve just driven him from his penthouse.”

“Oh,” you say, unable to control the way your face falls a little. “So, he’s here.”

“He is. He said he wanted to get things done today so he doesn’t waste his time when he starts next week. He’s at Hoseok’s office right now. I believe he’s supposed to sign some documents?”

“Oh shit,” you blurt out, immediately setting down your half-finished tea and rushing out the door to speed-walk to your desk, ignoring Mr. Ri’s demand for you to slow down. 

With what little you know of your new boss, he seems like the type to not excuse tardiness, so you take your files, head to HR to retrieve some documents, and then proceed to Hoseok’s office. You try to catch your breath as you head towards the door, which opens before you get to knock, revealing Bitna, the President’s assistant, who greets you with a sweet smile. 

“Hi, ___. I was just about to call you,” she says. “CEO Jeon is inside as well. Just walk in, they’re waiting for you.”

You cross the small hallway as the door gently closes, and you stop in your tracks the moment you hear Jungkook’s voice.

“I still prefer my old assistant,” he says, obviously displeased. “He was very organized, highly educated, and well-traveled. While this Ms. Cho didn’t even study in a top university in Seoul. And Hoseok says she doesn’t know any other foreign languages when that’s one of my requirements.”

“Son, you’re being too harsh,” CEO Jeon chides. “Ms. Cho is a top performing employee, very hardworking and dedicated. She’s worked here for eight years and she imbibes all our values; she knows the company culture and knows the ins and outs of things with how she’s been exposed to them. Ask your cousin; Hoseok speaks highly of her.”

“___ is great, Kook. She’s incredibly organized and highly analytical and observant. She doesn’t need a Seoul education to be good at what we need her to be good at,” Hoseok argues. 

“I still want my old assistant. It’s more convenient that way. Lucas already knows how I work and what I require of him,” Jungkook insists. “I’m just saying that I need things to be efficient and she and I can’t be adjusting to each other when there are multiple projects that I’d much rather give my attention to.”

“And I’m saying that Ms. Cho probably knows more than you do when it comes to these projects,” the elder Jeon counters. “Plus, your old assistant would have to adjust to life in Seoul and that’s harder. It’s just not practical, especially since you’re due to start in a few days. You have other things to worry about. ___ is there to make your life easier. Give her that chance to do her job.”

“But I—”

“Good morning, gentlemen,” you greet, not wanting to hear whatever unfounded things that Jungkook has to say, even if you have your own preconceived notions about him which, you remind yourself, are partly founded. Barely five minutes in and you already can’t stand his judgmental and entitled ass. 

You walk towards the middle of the room where they’re congregated on the couches, with the elder Mr. Jeon and Hoseok smiling at you while Jungkook merely glances at you, his jaw clenched, perhaps irritated at the fact that you’d overheard him completely misjudge and undermine your abilities without even knowing who you are.

“Good morning, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says. “I know you’ve seen him a few times but I’d like you to officially meet my son and the new Vice President, Jungkook.”

Jungkook turns to you with a disinterested look but he doesn’t meet your eyes. You bow as a sign of respect, even if it’s the last thing you think he deserves.  

“My pleasure, Mr. Jeon,” you respond. “I was told that you’d like to proceed with administrative matters this morning. I have all the documents with me and I can explain each one to you before you sign them. I’ve also consolidated all the things you need to know prior to your meetings next week,” you add, handing him an iPad. “This has the resumes of each member of your management support team, including their professional and development goals. Mine are there as well, so you can read about my credentials and achievements in this company the past eight years, which I think have tremendously helped me in performing my duties satisfactorily. There’s also a folder of team profiles of each of the departments you’re overseeing. You’ll also find closure reports of completed projects from the past five years, progress reports of ongoing projects, and approved and working proposals of upcoming ones. I’ve included summaries and key figures for each of them. You may read them prior to your meetings, and if there’s anything missing that you’d like me to include, I can have them ready by the end of the day.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook hums, as he scrolls through all the folders you’ve prepared for him.

In your periphery, you can see the other two men holding in smiles as you seemingly render the younger man speechless, but while he assesses all that you’ve provided to him, you’re given time to observe the man seated before you. Other than his slightly longer hair, not much has changed from when you saw Jungkook in last year’s gala. 

As he drags his tongue across the inside of his cheek with his scrunched eyebrows in judgment, you’re reminded that this is the first time you’ve seen him up close. And even from his angle, you can tell. 

He’s unfairly handsome. 

He’s got dark expressive eyes, soft-looking pink lips, and a sharp jawline that complement his lean figure. You understand why the staff are enamored by him even from afar and - if the rumors about him are true - why women would shoot their shot with him at clubs, in hopes they’d be the lucky one he’d choose to be with for the night.

The illusion breaks, though, as he turns to you with a hardened gaze. 

“I’m sure I’ll find something that’s missing,” he states.

“If they’re relevant and necessary, I can have the files ready by today,” you respond, knowing full well that you’ve included every possible document that would be of use to him. 

“I’ll be the judge of what’s relevant and necessary, Ms. Cho,” he counters. 

“Of course, Mr. Jeon,” you say, conceding. “Whatever it is, then I’ll make sure to have them ready for you as soon as possible.”

Jungkook hums in response, turning his attention to the HR documents this time, breezing through the text and ignoring your brief explanations of the contents before signing at the bottom of the pages. You inform him of sections he’s missed, and he groans at having been corrected but you don’t mind. He’s the one who chose to do all this now and in here, in front of his father and his cousin.

Once he’s done, he hands you the signed files and holds your gaze. “Is there anything else, Ms. Cho?”

“I suppose that is all, Mr. Jeon. Unless there are other things you want to assess, or people you want to ensure are qualified to assist you with your functions,” you say. 

Jungkook huffs in displeasure. You can sense the tension build, as irritation paints his face. It’s at that moment that his father chimes in, suggesting that you introduce him to his team.

“You can maybe also orient him on the current projects and partnerships,” the older man says. 

“That can wait. I’ve had enough of engaging for today,” Jungkook responds, his voice cold, detached. 

“In that case, let me lead you to your floor, Mr. Jeon.”

You step back and wait for him to walk ahead, before you excuse yourself from the older men. You don’t miss the sorry looks on their faces, and you give them a smile as if to say that it’s fine, that Jungkook’s someone you can handle, and his obvious displeasure towards having you as his assistant doesn’t faze you. It doesn’t change the fact that you wish he wasn’t your boss though, or at least, that he wasn’t such a jerk like what he’s being right now.

Walking behind him as you both head towards the elevator, you see the way he carries himself - hands in the pockets of his sleek black trousers, his eyes focused straight ahead, nothing like Hoseok who was always gesticulating as he spoke to you every time you walked side-by-side from one place to another.    

Jungkook stands in front of the doors, seemingly waiting for you to press the buttons and you do it before he could even express his annoyance. You stand in front this time, then make sure you hold the doors open for him to exit, and you resume your spot behind him as you walk down the hallway. 

“On the left are two small meeting rooms and one conference room,” you start, thankful that there’s not much to tour him around on this floor, given that everything is exclusive to the Vice President. “On the right is a seating room, and up ahead is an archive room. Down the—”

“I’ve been here before, Ms. Cho,” Jungkook interjects as he looks at you blankly. “This is my family’s building; I’m very much aware of how the floors look like.”

Not rattled by his disruption, you nod and smile, wanting to show him that whatever intimidation or humiliation he’s trying to make you feel isn’t gonna work on you. You know if you show any sign of frustration, that will just give him a reason to have you replaced and despite your clear dislike for the man, you need this job, especially this position that allows you to pay your rent in a safe part of town and send money to your family every month. At this point, that’s the only thing that will keep you going.

Approaching the management support office, you walk faster and make sure to enter the room before he does, signaling the team with your eyes that their new boss is coming, your silently frantic gaze telling them to be on their best behavior because their usual antics won’t work on Jungkook the way they did with Hoseok. 

Once Jungkook appears, everyone bows and greets him, and you can sense them holding their breaths as they look up, taking him all in. You see him eye each person, and you can tell he’s already assessing them individually. You take it upon yourself to introduce each one, stating their name, where they studied and what course they took, describing their primary role in the team and their specific strengths. You see him follow your words, nodding and humming as you go, and you think he’s processing the information and making sure he remembers them. 

There are no pleasantries; Jungkook just goes straight to the point. 

“I’m sure you have concerns about having a new boss and the changes that come along with it. But I’m here to tell you now that you should get over whatever those are, as I’d like the adjustment period to be as short as possible,” he starts. “My cousin is brilliant at his job and so am I, but we work very differently, so whatever you got used to doing with and for him, don’t expect the same with me. I demand excellence and efficiency from each one of you because that’s what I commit myself to and that’s the only way that this team will be able to do its job. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir,” the team answers in unison. 

“We commit to those as well, Mr. Jeon,” Manager Lee says. “As the head of your support team, I will make sure that all our deliverables are of high quality and that things will run smoothly so that we may properly do our job of assisting you.”

“That’s good, and that’s what I expect,” Jungkook says, nodding at everyone before walking out the door to head to his office, with you trailing him from behind. 

“Is my room still being sanitized?” He turns to you. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Why did it need to be sanitized? And why today?”

“It’s protocol, sir. We also had a sendoff for Mr. Jung yesterday so the room smelled of food. And he instructed for this to be done today so that I don’t need to come here tomorrow, as he doesn’t like any of his staff working during the weekend,” you reply. “This should be finished this afternoon. I’ve also purchased the oil for your diffusers. The room will be ready for you by Monday.”

Jungkook merely hums and looks around, specifically at your designated area with your desk and shelves at the back, then takes a call before turning to you again to say that he’s heading out to meet his friends.

“Is there anything else you need, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, thankful that you don’t have to deal with him for the rest of the day.

“No.”

“Okay then, sir. I’ll meet you at your apartment at 6:30 AM on Monday. Is that time alright?”

“Sure,” he responds, then turns around and starts walking out. “Just keep your phone on. I work during the weekend.”

He’s gone before you can even respond, and you rush to the support office once you’ve heard the elevator ding that indicates that he’s gone. When you get there, you’re greeted with everyone’s frowns, with Do-hyun close to tears.

“I don’t like him, ___. He looks so unapproachable and too serious!” She complains. “I miss Mr. Jung. Is there an opening in his team? Should I just resign?”

“Aish!” You reprimand her. “Don’t speak like that. And don’t let those few minutes determine everything for you.”

“Well, those few minutes are enough to tell me that I don’t like him. No matter how good-looking he is,” Chin-sun says.

“He is, right!” Do-hyun chirps now, a complete 180 from seconds ago. “I’ve seen him around but I didn’t think he’d be even more handsome up close! It just sucks that he’s a grinch and that makes all the difference. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t have a girlfriend! He’s probably too snobby and—”

“Yah! You really need to stop it with those rumors,” you scold her this time. “That’s your boss. His personal life is none of our business. Where do you even hear these things?”

“Every washroom in this building, basically. Staff are always gossiping there, you know?” Do-hyun responds. 

“And since when do we listen to gossip,” you scowl at her. “Sure, he’s not our favorite person right now but we don’t have the right to make claims about aspects of his life. And where are people even getting those ideas!”

“People talk, I guess,” she shrugs. “And he’s often spotted in clubs with those Kim brothers so maybe they see things. I’m not saying they’re all accurate… just that rumors often have some truth to them, you know?”

“No, I don’t, and we shouldn’t be sticking our noses in places where they shouldn’t be,” you say.

“Fine, but it’s just a heads up,” Do-hyun says, turning serious now. “You’re his executive assistant, and you have no choice but to stick your nose in places because personal and professional lines are often blurred in your situation, and that’s just how our world’s set up.”

“She’s right,” Chin-sun chimes in. “I mean, you need to know his personal schedule, go to his apartment, do errands if you need to, maybe buy a box of condoms if he runs out… You just got lucky that Mr. Jung’s pretty chill and has a wife who’s even nicer than he is. Your only problem was that he was damn scared of everything that moved and wasn't human.”

You’d laugh at the last statement if you could, but you know they’re both right. Hoseok wasn’t perfect, and neither was his marriage, but it never reached a point where you had to be put in a compromising position because you were his assistant who, by nature of your work, had to be privy to some of his personal matters. The most involved you were was when he and A-yeong had an argument and they used you as their messenger, but even that was more of a miscommunication issue than anything serious. They apologized to you after and promised to never put you in that kind of situation again.

But with Jungkook as a single man, you’re unsure what personal business you’d end up being involved in. You just wish it wasn’t something that would test your principles and cause you to lose your job. Regardless, whatever that would be isn’t something you can even really talk about with others.

“Well, I don’t wanna think about any of that right now,” you sigh, knowing you’ve got enough to worry about, such as how you’re going to start surviving everyday assisting a man who clearly doesn’t want you around. 

But if he’s gonna be a hard-head about it, then you’re just going to have to match him. You got to where you are because you’re determined to prove yourself constantly, and you’ll just show him that he needs you, and he doesn’t really have a choice unless he wants to argue with his father. 

You try to encourage your team once more and give Do-hyun that rare hug in comfort before going back to your desk, intent on finishing all the presentations for your briefing with Jungkook next week. You begin setting up his room by mid-afternoon, using a photo of his Singapore office as a basis since you were told that he prefers a certain style for his furniture and decor. You’re no stylist but over an hour after you finish, you think you did pretty good. You were so into designing the space that you didn’t notice the time fly by; before you know it, it’s 6PM, because you can hear A-yeong right outside calling for you.

“Hi,” she chirps, hugging you in greeting. “Are you ready?”

“I’ll just pack my things,” you say, walking to your desk. 

A-yeong takes a peek at the room and praises your efforts. “This looks so different from how it used to be. And that’s good because those cousins have such different tastes. But I think Jungkook will like this. He’s into the masculine and moody vibe, so good job, ___.”

You know that despite her kindness, she wouldn’t lie, and you could only hope that she’s right. You think it looks nice, but it’s what he thinks that matters; you’ll just have to wait until Monday to find out. 

As you’re about to leave, Hoseok appears in the hallway and asks how you are. Your scowl pretty much gives you away.

“I’m sorry about Jungkook, ___. He’s stubborn and a hot-head sometimes but he isn’t always like that, and this isn’t me making excuses for him,” your former boss says. 

“Why, what did he do?” A-yeong asks worriedly. 

“Basically implied that I’m not qualified for this role, among other things,” you respond. “But it’s okay. Not like I haven’t heard that before.”

“And you know that’s not true,” Hoseok comforts you. “He’s not good with change, that’s all, and you know how these appointments were all pretty short notice and he’s just been frustrated ever since. But whatever it is he said, don’t take them to heart. He’ll get a word from me, and he’ll definitely get one from his father.”

You want to say that it’s not easy to just disregard what Jungkook said; he’s your boss after all, and all that matters is what he thinks about you. But you’re not one to air out these feelings to Hoseok now that you’ve experienced a bit of what it’s like, so you just shake your head and ask the older man to let it go.

“He’s probably just tired,” you make an excuse this time, not wanting to discuss further with Hoseok. “And he had that assistant for over five years. I can understand wanting that familiarity and convenience. I’m just gonna have to adjust; there are a lot of things going on right now and he’ll need to focus on the projects, not his compatibility with his assistant.”

“But that matters though,” Hoseok insists. “I got things done because we worked well together. He’s gonna have to meet you in the middle with this one. And I’ll make sure that he does.”

“I know you said you want to look out for me but I don’t think it’s a good idea if you intervene this time, Mr. Jung,” you say, letting him know you’re serious and you mean business. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry about me.”

You give him a comforting smile, and you hope it’s enough to quell Hoseok’s own worries and it works this time. He returns it before letting you and his wife go, and it’s the Thai dinner and incredible desserts that somehow make up for your not-so-great day. 

You think the weekend will give you the peace you need to face your dreaded week - you do your errands and chores on Saturday and go to the market and watch a movie by yourself in the cinema the next day. 

All it took was a text from Jungkook that Sunday evening, asking for copies of certain policies and disapproved proposals from the last five years, that just had to ruin it, as you spend the entire evening consolidating the files, making you already wish it was Friday.

Jungkook’s apartment building is one of the Jeon properties that you haven’t been to yet, as it’s one of the newer massive residential structures that they built three years ago. You enter the sleek-looking lobby then submit your documents at the reception in exchange for your own access, and you internally marvel at how luxurious everything looks. 

You get to the 42nd floor, and it seems that there are only two units here. You walk towards the one on the right, choosing to be on the safe side by ringing the doorbell. It’s Monday, after all, and it’s your first time here; you don’t want to just enter without him permitting you to do so. 

You’re about to press the button again after a minute of no response, when the door opens and you take a moment to process the sight before you. 

There, standing just a few feet away, is Jungkook with nothing but a pair of black gym shorts on, his taut chest glistening in sweat, and his entire right arm covered in black and colored ink. His hair is damp and ruffled, and it’s probably due to the boxing he’d just done, as evidenced by the wraps on his knuckles and the way he’s panting heavily. 

You get your senses back and look away, not wanting to look affected by his half-naked form, even if you’re the one who has to catch her breath this time because much as you dislike the man, you can’t deny that his body is something that definitely deserves to be praised. 

“You’re here,” he speaks first, surprise laced in his voice as he takes in your obviously flustered form.

“I asked if 6:30 AM was a good time to come, Mr. Jeon,” you answer, glancing at him before looking at whatever you could behind him. “Perhaps I misheard your confirmation. I can wait downstairs if you’re not yet done with your exercise. My apologies for coming in early.”

You don’t actually have anything to be sorry for; he did confirm the time, and he’s the one who decided that working out at this hour was a good idea, knowing that his assistant’s scheduled to come. You would’ve appreciated it if he says you don’t need to apologize, but he doesn’t.

“It’s fine, I just finished,” he huffs. 

He leaves the door open for you to enter then heads straight to the large room on the right, which looks to be an indoor gym. You allow yourself a few seconds to look at his retreating form, quietly gasping as his broad shoulders and slender waist blind you a little, then scolding yourself for doing so. You stay rooted by the kitchen and look around the spacious penthouse as you wait for him to return. He exits the gym wearing a loose white shirt now, combing his hair with his fingers as he drinks a bottle of water.

“So, Mr. Jeon, uh, I would prepare Mr. Jung’s outfits for the week and then help his house staff make his breakfast. I run down his schedule as he eats. Are you okay with the same arrangement?” 

“Sure. I just don’t have any staff with me so you’re on your own. I’m fine with anything though. I’m not usually hungry in the morning,” he says before walking to the other side of the apartment.

You follow him, careful not to enter spaces you’re not given permission to, which is why you stand by his bedroom door before asking to come in. 

“How will you prepare my clothes from there?” He huffs. “Of course you can enter. Just be done before I finish taking a shower.”

You nod shyly and then head to the walk-in closet that thankfully has a separate door from the bathroom. He’s already unpacked his clothes, although not everything has been organized. You spot a few suits that are ready to wear, and you fix those first, taking note of asking him if there are things he wants dry cleaned or pressed. 

You leave his bedroom in time, hearing him slide open the door as you make it out, and proceed to make his breakfast. There’s really not much you can create with what little he has, so you make do with eggs and toast and whatever spread you find in his cupboard.

Jungkook walks into the kitchen not long after, the dark gray suit looking immaculate on him as you expected. Spotting his crooked necktie, you immediately walk up to him to fix it, unaware of how he holds his breath with how close you are. Noticing his body stiffen, you step back right away, apologizing for not asking permission first. 

He looks away and says it’s fine, then sits on the spot at the dining table where you’ve set up his meal. He stares at it for a good few seconds, prompting you to explain yourself.

“That’s… that’s all I could make with what you have, Mr. Jeon,” you say. “I can arrange for online groceries for you, as well as dry clean and pressing for your clothes and—”

“I’m having someone come in to clean my place and do all of that,” he says, as he takes a bite of his food. “So, what’s my week like?”

You start to enumerate the conference and lunch meetings he’ll be having this week, including who they’ll be with and their purpose. They’re mostly with the department leads to discuss updates on processes and current projects, and you’re thankful that Hoseok involved you as much as he did, given that Jungkook’s questions are more specific than you expected. 

Sure, he’s a Jeon and obviously works in the same company, but the Southeast Asian projects are different from the ones being implemented in South Korea, and while he used to oversee overall compliance to design standards, he’ll now be in-charge of setting those very standards this time. As Vice President, he’ll be involved in crafting policies; he’s also free to manage his own construction projects, and that’s what the support team is for. Given his much more expansive role this time, there are more departments and projects to oversee, and definitely more executive decisions to make. 

You suppose it’s why his questions don’t stop, even after he’s cleaned up and you both find yourselves in the backseat of the car and on the way to the office. He looks through the iPad with all the files you gave him, and you see the notes he’s made on them as you turn to him to answer his queries. Even if you know that he’s also still assessing you - perhaps on your knowledge and attention to detail - you can’t help but admire his thoroughness. You may have also cursed him in frustration for making you work on a Sunday, but he seems to have done way more than you, given that he went through all the documents over the weekend. You suddenly don’t feel too annoyed. 

But of course, he has to ruin it again.

“I need these annotated versions of the project and departmental documents ready before my meetings with the respective teams,” Jungkook says, his voice low and stern. “And I expect progress reports to be as detailed as possible, so make sure to check them first before they get to me. The ones you gave need revisions. I believe you’re trained enough to know immediately that these are lacking.”

“Yes, sir,” you respond, noting his instructions on your notebook while internally yelling, given that you’re unsure of the need for them before the meetings. 

Surely, he could give you some time to work on them, but with a meeting with one team in the afternoon and seven more the rest of the week, and on top of the other things you need to do for him, you already know you’ll be cramming to get everything done. 

You try to manage your breathing. Somehow, your habit of pressing your nails against your palm when you're stressed has miraculously come back today. It was something you developed while working under Mrs. Byun, which you eventually got over after working for Hoseok. You feel the anxiety build up, especially as you look at the half crescent marks on your skin, and it’s times like this that you wish your best friends were based in Seoul instead of Busan, so you’d at least have people to comfort you when things are a little tough. 

It’s not to say that work wasn’t overwhelming before. It definitely was, but Hoseok always found a way to make everything bearable and he was always reasonable with what he demanded of you. Now you’re stuck with a man who already makes you feel like your hard work isn’t enough. 

You make it to the office with no other words said and a thick tension in the air. It follows you to the elevator and into Jungkook’s room, where he dismisses you so he can prepare for the first meeting of the day. You rush to your desk and get on with your tasks, making sure to work on the annotated project file that he needs by the afternoon. 

It’s an hour later when you find yourself in the conference room for the meeting with the management support team. You prepped them just 10 minutes earlier, and while you tried to hide your frustration, your unusual lack of energy told them enough that it wasn’t exactly a good start of the day. 

They come in one by one, and you take the time to prepare Jungkook’s coffee, remembering from his former assistant’s notes how he wants it. He’d put it off earlier, given that he prefers to drink his protein shake after his workout, so this is the first time you’re doing it for him.

His eyes flit from the coffee in front of him to you as you place it on the table.

“Two espresso shots and half teaspoon each of milk and sugar,” you state, wanting to confirm that you got it right.

He merely takes a sip, places it down again, and then starts the meeting. 

How bold of you to assume that he’d thank you or even acknowledge it, as if he’d shown you even the tiniest amount of gratitude for anything you've done for him since Friday. Which he hasn’t. 

You let it go and proceed to sit next to him, your eyes and ears ready for what you already predict is gonna be a long meeting. 

It ends over three hours later. As you expected, he had a lot of questions. He made sure that each member had time to explain their current tasks and how they will monitor the projects assigned to them. You didn’t miss the way he’d acknowledged them with “good” and “well done,” and thanked them after they finished. He only nodded at you after your turn, with his eyes barely meeting yours, and for all the confidence you built over the past three years, you can’t process how it’s his non-acknowledgment that’s just going to undo all that. And quite frankly, you’re unsure if that’s on him or if that’s on you. 

Half of the meeting was spent discussing the big project that he wants to take on as Vice President. There’s a property they recently acquired - a non-operational arts center that he wants to revive by adding a performance hall, small theaters, a grand library, function rooms, and a permanent exhibition presenting the buildings that his family had developed over the years to showcase their architectural designs. 

You saw the excitement in your team members’ faces. Hoseok took over with several unfinished projects so you all had to focus on those. Aside from Manager Lee, this is the first time that you’re all handling something new and different. Even you felt the excitement creep in, a welcome emotion given how your day’s been going, but that shattered once he said that he wants it done by June of next year in time for an International Media Festival happening in August. The 12-month period he’s giving is too short with everything he wants to do, and you saw that the team felt the same. 

You go to them after Jungkook leaves for a lunch meeting, and their sighs and pouty faces tell you enough. Mr. Lee does his job of encouraging the team, and you add that you’re all gonna be supporting each other through it all. Sure, you’d have to match Jungkook’s ambition and thoroughness, but you should all take it as a challenge. 

You’re clearly not convinced yourself as the words come out of your mouth, but you don’t have time to debrief with them, as you still have that meeting with the design department that you have to prepare for. You take two biscuits and a cup of tea, and you decide that this is enough to last you throughout lunch, given that you’ll be spending the entirety of it working on the files. 

You don’t realize that an hour and a half have passed until you hear footsteps and see Jungkook’s form appear in the hallway. You stand to greet him, with him asking if you’re done with the annotated documents. 

“I’ll send it in five minutes, sir,” you say, hoping he’ll at least give you that. 

“Okay,” he responds. “Come to my office after you’ve sent it.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, quickly finishing the last two pages once he closes the door. 

You rush to get everything done and click send, then you head to his office and prepare yourself for more questions. It’s quiet inside as you watch him behind the desk, with his legs crossed and his eyebrows furrowed as he reads the document. You answer one of his questions and it’s at that moment when your very empty stomach decides to make itself known.

You freeze on your spot, as the grumbling sound starts low, getting louder for a few beats before it temporarily stops. Your eyes widen in embarrassment, and you press your belly so hard with your fingers in hopes that that would do anything, even if you’re too far gone at this point. Your only hope is that it was all in your head, but Jungkook’s eyes flitting to you tells you otherwise. The only other sound in his room is the air purifier, but it’s not remotely loud enough to drown out your intense hunger. 

It goes again, and all you can do is look away; humiliating yourself was definitely not the plan for your first day as Jeon Jungkook’s assistant.

“Do you need to step away, Ms. Cho?” He asks, not meeting your eyes. 

“Oh, it’s not… uh,” a bowel emergency or something, you want to say. “I just had a busy lunch break.” 

You settle for that, a hint that you’d spent its entirety doing something in such a short notice. Hoseok would always be apologetic whenever he had you do something during your break; he always made up for it with a nice meal as thanks. You doubt you’d get anything close to that from this man.

Jungkook hums and surprisingly doesn’t ask for anything else. He dismisses you and orders you to go ahead and prepare the conference room for the next meeting, and you do just that, dropping by the pantry for a muffin that you eat in four bites, in hopes that it would be enough to shut your stomach for the next three hours. 

Right as you exit, Jungkook picks up his phone to make a call. And then another one.

“Mr. Ri, please pick up the pastries that Ms. Cho ordered at the food hall,” he instructs his chauffeur. “She’s too busy right now.”

“Will do, Mr. Jeon.”

Taking minutes of a meeting when you’re starving is not a good thing. You know this because you’ve done this so many times, like during monthly executive meetings and the quarterly board meetings that have you spread out thin. It’s also not rare to miss out on lunch because there’s a report to finish or a site to visit; during events, you go on a day with having barely eaten anything. 

But just because you’re used to it, it doesn’t mean that your body has fully adapted, because here you are, eyeing the croissants in front of you, your mouth watering at the gloss and softness of the pastry. They’re so tempting and also out of reach, given that you need to be entirely focused on the discussion that you’re documenting, and munching on something is out of the question. You don’t even know where this is from and you think maybe the design department called for snacks but it’s really not helping your concentration.

You hope the way you’re nibbling your lips doesn’t give you away, but Yoongi from across the table picks it up, as you get a notification of his message.

[From: Min Yoongi] you didn’t have lunch, did you? 

You ignore the prompt on your laptop and respond to him with a look instead. You know your pouty lips will give him his answer, and he merely shakes his head at the confirmation. 

You do your best to shut out the sight and scent of the food before you, absorbing instead the discussion so you can note this down properly with just minimal edits needed. You have a lot of documents to work on for the next few days after all, and that’s on top of the file reorganization that Jungkook asked you to do. 

It works after you hang on by a thread for two and a half hours, a little earlier than you expected to finish. All you want is to sneak out that croissant and maybe some tarts, too, but your heart breaks when you look up and find the boxes empty. 

You let out a sigh, relieved that your boss didn’t hear you because he’s already on the phone and heading out the door. But it’s that same time that a plate of food appears in front of you, and it feels like the gates of heaven have opened. You’re not surprised anymore to find out who it’s from.

“Eat,” Yoongi says from next to you. “I could see your hands shaking from across the table.”

“What about you?” You ask, your lips in a pout once more. 

“You know I don’t eat these things,” he shrugs.

He doesn’t, and you know this, too. You also know he called dibs on these earlier, seeing as his staff were quick to get them, and he’d saved these so he could give them to you. 

“Ten years later and you’re still trying to make sure I eat, huh?” You say, nudging him with your hips to tease.

“If I don’t, who would?” He responds, walking out of the conference room with you. “You have a bad habit of not doing that.”

“Well, duty calls. What can I do?” 

“Take care of yourself even if it’s hard,” he replies. 

“Says the man who rarely does it himself,” you chuckle. 

“You know, the best advice I give are the ones I don’t actually follow, so disregard the fact that I don’t even do what I say because they apparently work,” he says. “But I mean it, ___. Eat this now.”

“Thanks, Yoongi,” you smile, taking a piece of pastry and eating it in two bites. 

Your puffed out cheeks cause him to laugh, and despite still being hungry after this, you suppose it’s enough to not make you faint at this moment. 

“And eat a proper dinner, okay?” He follows up.

“I’ll be off late, so I’ll just grab something from the convenience store,” you say. “That’s as proper as I can afford tonight.”

“Aish, fine,” he shakes his head. “But let me get you coffee at least. Those tarts won’t taste as good without one.”

“That would be life-saving,” you dramatically say. “What did I do to deserve a friend like you?”

“Don’t know. I mean, I’m not that great,” he shrugs. 

You playfully roll your eyes. “I’ll save the compliments once I have the coffee.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he feigns annoyance, gesturing for you to get back to your desk then walking the other direction. 

You take your seat and clean up the document, deciding that you’ll just review the meeting minutes tomorrow so you can get on with other pressing matters. It’s 20 minutes later when Yoongi returns, a tall cup of coffee on one hand and a banana loaf on the other.

“This is all they have left,” he says. “I hope it can last you until tonight.”

“It will,” you smile. “Thank you again. No one looks out for me here as much as you do. And that means a lot, more than you know. I don’t think I would’ve survived all these years without you.”

“Wow, all because of coffee and snacks,” he laughs, teasing. 

“It’s a fair trade. You feed me during my greatest need, I boost your ego,” you tease back. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Yoongi huffs in submission, but you know he enjoys it. 

You’re thankful that after everything that’s happened, you’re still able to maintain the friendship that you created when you were a mere intern and he was just starting out his career. 

“Anyway, I’m quickly meeting Jungkook and I need the portfolio of the contemporary arts institution joint project from 2019. It was VP-led so I assume it’s still here? Unless it’s in the archive room,” he continues.

“It’s within five years so it should be here,” you say, turning to the shelf behind you to confirm. 

You spot what you need and make the attempt to pull it out but your fingers barely even touch the rack.

“Need help?” Yoongi asks.

“And what help could you give, huh?” You tease again, earning you a playful groan.

“You brat.”

You laugh and pull out the small stool you keep for times like this. 

“Just make sure I don’t fall and embarrass myself further today,” you say, climbing up the steps then pulling out the heavy folder. 

You feel Yoongi’s arm move from where it was near your waist to over your head, as he lightens the load. You both try to balance it and laugh at your distorted faces in the process, and it’s moments of relief like this one that you’re glad you’re afforded after a long day like today. 

From inside the room, Jungkook sees you through the window, your eyes crinkling as you laugh along with Yoongi, head of the design department and one of his very few friends in the company. It catches him off guard, as he realizes that since meeting you last Friday, he’s never seen you laugh, much less smile or even have an expression that isn’t agitated or serious.

He knows that that’s probably on him. He’d spoken ill of you after all, something he regretted once he saw the frustration on your face when you made it known that you were in the room with them and had definitely heard everything he said. But he’d been tired and HR confirmed that he could bring Lucas over as his assistant; CEO Jeon was the one who vetoed that decision. 

Jungkook had already mentally prepared himself for the ease of his transition, knowing that he’d be assisted by someone who knows how he works and the quality of outputs he expects, only to come here and be told by his father that the current staff will stay, and that you - someone he’d only heard of as Hoseok’s assistant - will be the one assisting him from now on. Your resume didn’t even impress him.

Jungkook doesn’t like change and when he has to undergo it, he needs as much of what was familiar and convenient to remain; that’s the only bit of control he can have and he hates not being in control of things. You just happened to unluckily be at the receiving end of his anger.

But unlike what he expected, you stood up to him in the subtle ways you could. He’s been so used to people just following him, partly because his way is always the best but also because he commands that respect, and he knows his capabilities enough to know that he deserves it as well. So when you answered back, he felt rattled and just a little bit uneasy. He was unable to backtrack after, but he didn’t really plan to.

That doesn’t mean that he didn’t plan on being a bit of a jerk today, too. He’d been exhausted working over the weekend after going through all the files you gave him that he snoozed his alarm so many times and ended up doing his workout later than he intended. When you rang the doorbell and stood by his door with your skirt and satin top, he suddenly felt lightheaded.

He mentally smacked himself once the thought that your pastel colored outfit brought out your eyes more than the monochrome ensemble from last week floated in his head. He just hated that not only are you thorough with your work, you have to be beautiful, too. He’d never admit to anyone that both of those things make him nervous, and it’s the only reason why he thinks he needs to establish his authority so that he doesn’t get rattled the next time you counter him.

That’s why he demanded more work, which he didn’t intend to take up so much of your time, like your lunch break. He’d seen how your hands shook while you were taking notes during the meeting, prompting him to end the meeting early so you can have something to eat of what he’d bought but he’d left before he could find out if there was anything left for you. 

Maybe there wasn’t enough, as he also witnessed Yoongi hand you what seemed like food with coffee that the man also got for you just minutes ago. The smile you gave him was bright and sincere. Jungkook doesn’t think he’d ever see that directed at him, considering how he’d been to you on his first day, but maybe that’s also good; that could be his defense. Maybe it’d help quell that initial attraction that he doesn’t want and cannot allow at all to grow.

It doesn’t mean it doesn’t agitate him to see you a bit too close with his friend, because with the way you seem so comfortable and with the way that Yoongi sports that rare smile, it almost feels like there’s something there.

Jungkook is the son of the CEO, and having personal relationships within the company isn’t exactly advisable, but he’d gone to university with Yoongi and their introverted personalities instantly clicked. The older man is perhaps the only non-relative company employee that Jungkook kept in touch with when he was in Singapore, not that he even really talked much to his family outside of work anyway.

But in all the years of their friendship, his friend never mentioned any relationship - nor the makings of one - with another staff member. Jungkook hates how his curiosity is slowly getting to him. Maybe a few more moments would tell him more, but something about the scene happening outside his room is making him nervous and uneasy, so he decides to step in.

“Hey, Yoon,” he says as he opens the door. “Can we discuss now? I have to meet my parents for dinner in an hour.”

Your bubble with Yoongi bursts at the sound of Jungkook’s voice, and you immediately return to your seat. Your friend nods at you then enters the room, leaving you the peace and quiet you need to plop down on the floor for a quick snack of your loaf before going back to work, glancing inside every once in a while to see how the two are going, and perhaps confirm the friendship that you didn’t expect the two would have.

“This building is a good starting point,” Yoongi agrees with Jungkook. “If this is the general feel you want for the Arts Center, I can look into other projects and designs and come up with ideas. I’ll just ask ___ for the files I need.”

“You two seem close,” Jungkook says too quickly. 

Leaning back against the chair, Yoongi processes the question that he didn’t expect he’d hear. More than that, he tries to read what’s underneath it, knowing that his friend’s tone of voice and feigned stoic expression mean something more.

“You could say that,” Yoongi replies. “She did say that no one’s looked out for her here as much as I have. And that she wouldn’t have survived all these years without me.”

“So you’re actually friends?”

“Yes.”

“Were you more?”

Yoongi chuckles, the question giving him the answer he’s looking for. Jungkook may often be too serious but he can be transparent sometimes, too.

“Does it matter?” The older man asks.

“Just don’t want to be surprised, that’s all,” Jungkook shrugs. “If there’s an employee relationship happening under my nose, I should at least know.”

“It happens here a lot,” Yoongi responds. “I mean, it gives people something to gossip about but it’s how things are - work sucks sometimes and we want someone to hold at the end of a terrible day.”

Feeling like he won’t get an answer to a question that Jungkook doesn’t know why he felt the need to ask in the first place, he just shakes his head to concede. 

But it’s what prompts Yoongi to reply. 

“We met when she was just an intern,” he says. “We used to take the same bus then found out we both came from Daegu. Then she was employed and we were both on the logistics team before I was reassigned and she got the EA role.”

Jungkook merely hums, taking in the information.

“I also asked her out before,” Yoongi continues, earning him a surprised look from the younger man. “You just can’t help what you feel sometimes, you know?  But she turned me down, said she didn’t want to lead me on because she didn’t feel anything more. She also doesn’t like being involved with a co-worker, so yeah.”

“How are you still friends?”

“Asks the guy who’s still friends with his ex,” Yoongi laughs.

“Chaerin and I are civil, there’s a difference. And we haven’t spoken in years.”

“You loved her, though,” Yoongi counters. “I never got to that point.”

“This isn’t about me,” Jungkook huffs. 

Knowing it’s a topic that his friend doesn’t like talking about, Yoongi relents. “I moved on. That was years ago,” he says. “And it seemed like she needed someone. I mean, she’s not from here and her friends aren’t here, either. She appreciated the friendship even if she said she didn’t think she deserved it. I guess that made me really get over her, you know? That’s all she wanted and needed from me; it was better than not having her around.”

“How brave,” Jungkook remarks. 

“You mean mature?” Yoongi corrects. “Yes, that’s what I am, and it’s the best I could be for her. Especially since she’s got a boss who makes her miss lunch because somehow, there’s just so much to do for your first day on the job.”

“Don’t remind me,” Jungkook groans. 

“I will. Only so you could feel bad.”

“I already do. That’s why I…”

“Bought the pastries,” Yoongi finishes. “I mean, I didn’t order them.”

“Was any even left for her?” Jungkook sighs, remembering how he was internally screaming for you to just get from the box and he’d been the jerk to not offer you some even if it was technically for you.

“Sort of. I put some aside for myself so I could give them to her.”

“You sure you don’t like her anymore?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, an attempt to hide his uneasiness over something he doesn’t understand. He finds you attractive, that’s it. He doesn’t know why his mind searches for more answers.

“You don’t have to like someone romantically to be nice to them, you know?” Yoongi responds. “And she needed it. Heavens know the support she’d need now that she has to deal with your rude ass.”

Jungkook sighs, but the remark is a welcome one because he did tell Yoongi not to treat him differently just because he’s the Vice President now. He also partly agrees. But he sees the effort; his friend wouldn’t call him out for how he does things, so the most he would do is offer help to you. And Jungkook could maybe take advantage of that, as Yoongi stands up to leave.

“Hey, could you, uh, grab dinner for her at the food hall? And not say it’s from me?”

“The food hall’s closed,” Yoongi says.

“The cafe down the street, then?”

“You can’t be fucking serious,” the older man groans. 

But Yoongi knows his friend, knows the distance he creates from the people around him, knows his need to have control over everything, including his feelings, and knows the walls he builds because it’s easier to keep others out rather than do the hard task of letting them into a space that’s become comfortable because he’s been the only one inside for so long.

So Yoongi does as he’s asked. He takes the money then heads to the cafe to order pork cutlets and curry. He returns and sets them on your desk to your surprise, and you ask what it’s for.

“Just thought you deserve more than just convenience store instant noodles and gimbap given the day you’ve had,” he says. 

“Hey, those are delicious,” you pout, but wanting to melt at how good the rice bowl smells. “But thank you, again. I owe you a lot, Yoongi. I mean it.”

“Just make sure to eat on time so I don’t have to buy your dinner again,” he teases. “I mean it. You have to stay healthy, okay?”

“Okay,” you smile brightly. “Get home safe tonight.”

Jungkook glances out the window and holds back a smile himself at how innocent and genuinely happy you look. There’s this joy that you seem to enjoy to yourself and he sees that, he understands that. And somehow that’s enough to lessen the guilt for now. 

He still doesn’t know if he’ll ever see that smile directed at him or if he’d ever want that because of how disarming it is. But seeing it from afar is enough; it’s trivial and short enough to let him bask in it without having to climb out of his walls. He’ll watch you from behind, he thinks. He just wishes he doesn’t push you away in the process.

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[bellaveux]

hi! could you please do one about reader x wanda on college where reader cheats on her boyfriend with wanda but wanda genuinely loves reader so much that she can’t help but want more?

DREAMING OF YOU | wanda maximoff x reader

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

genre: angst w/ happy ending, fluff, smut

summary: while being constantly ignored by your boyfriend, wanda decides to keep you company for the night and eventually, for the rest of the weeks that follow, wanting more than just sex with you and vows to show you the kind of love you truly deserve.

content warnings: minors dni! angst with happy ending, some fluff, college au!wanda maximoff x reader, artist!reader, wanda is in love, cheating, mentions of drinking, toxic boyfriend named tyler bc i didn’t know what else to name him, one smut scene; top!wanda, bottom!reader, oral and fingering (r receiving), praise kink

word count: 12.9k

note: i’m so sorry for the long wait, it was not supposed to take a whole month for me to write :( i also did not mean for this to be so long, i kind of got carried away, but i hope you like it!!

There used to be a time when your boyfriend would always tell you that he loved you, no matter what the conversation or situation was. You would always ask him why he did certain things for you; give you flowers, take you out to dinner, wanting to do everything with you, or even things like fight with you, annoy you. He would always say ‘Because, I love you,’ no matter what. And, you missed those times. You missed when he felt like he was a part of you when you were his top priority as he was yours. Now, somewhere down the road, you lost all of that with him. He only has the time to take you to parties, as a sort of accessory to keep by his side, then refuses to talk to you, and ignores you half of the time. 

You never liked the parties your boyfriend always dragged you to. They were loud, too crowded for your taste and your boyfriend always ended up finding some kind of excuse to leave you alone all by yourself as he mingled around. You feel lost and disconnected in places like this while your boyfriend revels in the chaos of social interactions, all while seemingly drowning himself in beer and alcohol. 

Your likeness for him had slowly dwindled down over time, and you wondered what had happened between the two of you for him to change so much from the man you used to be so fond of. 

And, no, Tyler didn’t always use to be such a jerk to you. In the beginning, he was kind, and gentle and seemed to be interested in whatever you were interested in. He was the kind to buy you flowers when he would think of you, take you on romantic dates in the city, and tell you he loved you every day. You liked him in the beginning, maybe even fell in love with him at some point—well, you couldn’t remember what that felt like with him anymore. 

Now, he barely even replies to your texts, answers your calls, ignores you when you try to talk to him, and leaves you alone at a party full of people you don’t recognize, just for him to go and play beer pong and chug an unhealthy amount of beer with the other guys on the football team. He even lets these random girls feel up on him and openly flirt with him from time to time now, forgetting all about the girl he dragged along with him, who was now glaring at him from across the room. He doesn’t even do anything to stop them, which only fuels your anger even more. 

It wasn’t like you weren’t used to him being this way. This behavior had gotten quite frequent as time went on, and you’ve always thought about breaking up with him. But, each time, he’d fool you with those sweet words and apologies, and tell you he’d be good for you, do better for you, tell you he loved you, and tell you that he wouldn’t know what to do without you. 

And, for some reason, you always fell for it.

You don’t know if it’s because you so desperately want to cling to the past — the past that you remember being so good and lovely. The times when he treated you right was like a dream and you always wanted to believe it could be that way again. Somehow. Because, you liked him. At least, you did then. It was hard to know because everything felt awkward, everything felt insincere. You knew that when the next morning comes, he’ll buy you flowers once again, tell you how sorry he was for accidentally leaving you, and give you that lame excuse that he couldn’t find you in that crowd of people. 

“I wanna leave, Tyler,” you told him, after tapping his shoulder to get his attention.

He turned to you and glared, stepping away from the circle of people that wrapped around the beer pong table, “Are you fucking kidding me? We just got here. Fuck. Go find something to do. I’ll take you home later.”

Truthfully, you were over it. You didn’t even bother talking back about it anyway, having done so plenty of times already and it always had the same outcome. 

After a while, you found yourself in the kitchen of the sorority house, holding your third cup of some cheap alcohol you found and poured for yourself, not really sure of what else you could do but drink. The living room had that lingering smell of weed and warm bodies, and it was beginning to hurt your head the longer you stood in there, making you retreat to the back of the house where the kitchen was. The fresh smell of some brownies in the oven filled the air, and it was much better for your head than everything else outside of this room. They were probably weed brownies, but they smelled better than what was out there. 

The thought of leaving by yourself had crossed your mind several times already, wondering if your boyfriend would even notice if you’d be gone. Who are you kidding? He wouldn’t. You liked to think he would sometimes—that he’d rush right after you when you stepped out the door, grab you by the wrist, and ask where you were going without him as if he cared. But, that would’ve been too good to be true. 

And, you were too caught up in your thoughts to have noticed the figure that walked up next to you.

Wanda leaned over against the counter, standing quite close to you, nudging your shoulder lightly. You could smell that faint scent of alcohol from her lips even though she hadn’t spoken yet. She wore a big suit jacket over a plain shirt that fit loosely on her and held a red solo cup of her own, shaking it slightly as if she was checking if there was anything still in there like she couldn’t remember if she had drank what was in her cup yet. 

Wanda saw you the moment you stepped into the sorority house, always cautiously watching the door for whoever walked in. After all, she lived here. She practically had her eyes on you all night, first noticing that bored look on your face when you walked in with that jerk you called your boyfriend. Then, she saw the rising anger fuming in your eyes when he walked away and left you alone to go hang out with his friends and other girls that he didn’t seem to mind. 

She never really understood what you saw in him. From all of the stories she’s heard from mutual friends to what she has seen now, he was a complete asshole. Sure, when she met you for the first time, you were a happy couple, and he was good to you that time ago. But tonight, it was different. He was different to you and it only seemed to further her opinion of him. 

It was maddening—the way he treated you. Wanda always found herself caught in a bittersweet daydream, one where she yearned to trade places with him, to be the one who could treat you with the love and care you truly deserved.

She had always loved you. From the moment you two met in your first year of college, Wanda had always loved you. With every interaction, every shared laugh, and every stolen glance, her feelings for you only deepened, growing into an unshakeable love that blossomed silently within her. You were perfect in her eyes; you were beautiful, kind-hearted, and talented, but you failed to recognize the fact that you deserved way better than what that stupid boyfriend of yours does for you. The love Wanda held for you became a quiet force that fueled her determination to be there for you, to support you, even if it meant remaining in the shadows.

And, deep down, you’ve feel as if you had always felt it. That love she had for you. You felt it when she would look at you, when she talked to you, and at first, you couldn’t tell what it was. She was a private woman, always so reserved, and never really dated properly within her time in college, other than a few flings and hookups here and there. 

But you saw it firsthand each time she smiled at you. 

Undeterred, Wanda angled her body towards you, the corners of her mouth turning upward in a determined smile. She positioned herself delicately, her face mere inches away from yours, so that you could hear her easily under the booming music, “What are you doing here alone?” 

“Nothing,” you shrugged, taking a sip from your cup, not even bothering to look up at her. “Just felt too crowded in there.”

Wanda nodded and glanced out of the doorway, the first floor of the house practically flooding with people left and right. She noticed that solemn look on your face when you answered your question.

“Isn’t that Tyler outside?” She asked, even though she already knew the answer to that question. She watched you nod, your eyes staring down into the liquid in your cup.“Shouldn’t you be out there with him?”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you sighed and shook your head, “No, he’s… He’s playing. I wouldn’t be much help… It’s whatever.”

“It’s not whatever,” Wanda countered, the levels of her own annoyance rising. “He’s being a shitty boyfriend.”

You didn’t say anything else and instead chewed on your bottom lip as you let her words sink in. He was, indeed, a shitty boyfriend, but hearing it out of someone else’s mouth felt bitter. Like you had to defend him in some way even though he treats you like shit. You knew that Wanda's assessment held a grain of truth, maybe a lot more than a grain, but your heart stubbornly clung to the remnants of love and loyalty you still felt for him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“No, it’s fine,” you tell her, immediately shaking your head as you glance out of the kitchen window, seeing your boyfriend down his drink in the backyard. “He’s just… busy.”

Wanda glanced out the window once more, eyes landing on your boyfriend. He was cheering, having won the same stupid game he was playing since he got here for the third time already, and he was probably drunk out of his mind right now, clearly not caring about the woman he had brought along with him. That woman being you. 

And she could never understand it. 

Wanda turned away and looked over at you. You stared down at your shoes out of boredom, seemingly waiting for something to happen at least. You wondered when your boyfriend would notice the fact that you’re even still here, waiting for the past hour and a half for him. But, every time you looked at him, he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. 

“Do you want to go somewhere quiet?” Wanda leaned over and asked, scratching the back of her neck. “There’s less people upstairs… And it’s quiet in my room.”

Wanda didn’t know if it was the tiny bit of alcohol she had talking for her, but she couldn’t help but ask—not when someone as beautiful as you stood alone in her kitchen. 

“Your room?”

You took a moment to look past her shoulder again and over to the man you called your boyfriend, only to see him cheering on in front of the beer pong table with some other woman leaning close to him on his side. A sigh fell past your lips before turning back to look at Wanda. 

As your gaze shifted from the window to meet Wanda's eyes, a sudden hush fell upon you. Your heart skipped a beat as you found yourself caught in the vortex of an unwavering stare, one filled with undeniable affection. She was looking at you the entire time. She looked at you like you were the only one there—as if every person, every object, every sound had faded into the background, leaving only the two of you inside this house. An unexpected wave of shyness washed over you, a blush creeping up your cheeks, wondering about what you should say next. 

The gravity of Wanda's invitation to her room weighed heavily upon your conscience, knowing that accepting would lead you down an unfaithful path. A sense of moral obligation tugged at your heart, reminding her of the commitment you made to your boyfriend, who had now abandoned you once again. The knowledge weighed heavily on your heart, like an anchor that tugged at your sense of loyalty. You knew the dangerous allure that waited for you in her room. You very well understood the consequences, and how your heart might sway towards infidelity if you surrendered yourself completely to Wanda. 

With each passing second, your internal struggle intensified. But, why were you so worried about loyalty when the man you once loved seemed to have none for you? You recognized the injustice of your situation, feeling a bitter taste of resentment rise within you as you thought of your boyfriend's indiscretions, allowing himself to be swayed by the company of random women at a party. It was a betrayal in its own right—a crack in the foundation of your relationship.

You decided you didn’t want to see him anymore tonight. And Wanda had the power to do that for you. 

“Lead the way,” you said.

The woman’s eyes before you lit up at the sound of your words and with a tender smile, Wanda reached out, her hand extending towards you, a silent invitation for her to take you away from everything that worried you. You slipped your hand into hers, and with a gentle yet steady grip, her fingers interlaced with yours, beginning to pull you away and up the stairs. 

Wanda maneuvered through the crowd, sidestepping intoxicated individuals who seemed oblivious to the world beyond their own indulgence. Laughter and music washed over you as you reached the second floor and down the hall toward Wanda’s room. 

Your senses heightened as Wanda let you step into her private space, and you found herself instinctively pausing to take in your surroundings. Wanda made sure to not let your hand go, her thumb soothing over the back of your hand as you looked around. She stepped up behind you, gently resting her other hand on your hip as she pressed her front to your back softly. Your eyes swept across the room, drinking in the carefully curated collection of treasures that adorned each shelf and corner. The gentle hum of the music playing downstairs was muffled by the thick walls of Wanda’s room.

“Do you play?” You ask, eyes settling up the guitar by the side of her nightstand.

“Hmm, a bit,” she smiled as you raised your eyebrows, impressed at the fact. “I can show you any time you want. I can teach you.”

Her fingers brushed along the side of your waist, dancing along the fabric of your dress slightly as if she were forming guitar chords. Eventually, you let Wanda’s hands turn you around to face her, the soft scent of lavender filling the air as she leaned into you. 

“You look so pretty tonight, (Y/n),” she whispered, shamelessly staring at your lips.

Her gaze shifted from your mouth and into your eyes, and there you saw the gentle look she held solely for you. Wanda gently lifted the hand she held, guiding your fingertips to her lips, pressing light kisses against your knuckles. 

“Can I kiss you?”

“You already are,” you told her, the corners of your lips threatening to curve upwards.

Wanda smiled in return and brought her other hand up from your hip to your face, cupping your cheek and letting her thumb ghost over your bottom lip, “I mean… here.”

Her fingers trailed down to your jaw, “And right here.” To your neck, “And here.” Then, to your collarbone, “And… here.”

You sighed at the feeling of her feathery touches, closing your eyes as you relaxed in her hands. 

“Can I?” She repeated.

And for a moment, you took a second to look at the moment before you, your cheeks getting warm from Wanda’s actions. The warmth of her breath mingled with the sweet touch of her lips against your fingertips as she waited patiently for your answer for the second time tonight. As the words hung in the air, Wanda's gaze remained fixed on you, captivated by the emotions flickering across your face. In that moment, you appeared more enchanting to her than ever, having you so close to her for the first time, wanting to kiss those lips she’d been dreaming about for so long. 

“Yes, please,” you said. 

Wanda leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you, and softly pressed her lips against yours as she moaned. Every brush and hum of your lips sent shivers down Wanda's spine. Time became a distant concept as you lost yourself in her kisses. 

She slowly led you towards her bed, lips still pressed to yours. She had waited, with hope and uncertainty, for this moment to come. And finally, it was here. She’d show you. She’d show you how well she’d take care of you—how much better she could be than that boyfriend of yours. She’d give you everything you deserve. She’d prove it to you—change your mind, if possible, and have her be the only one to have and love you from now on.

Wanda pulled back after laying you down on her bed, staring down at you. She settled herself in between your legs and sighed at the feeling of your soft thighs under her hands. The sight of lips parting to catch your breath, your chest rising up and down, and your hair all over her pillows drove her crazy. Fuck. 

“Are you sure about this?” Wanda asked.

“Please.” You nodded, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with hers and squeezing them, “I want you, Wanda.”

Once she was positive that you were positive, Wanda pulled her shirt over off, shuffled closer to you, and gently brought your hands up above your head. She leaned down and placed a chaste kiss against your lips once more before traveling down to litter soft kisses against your jaw and your neck. Her body hovered over yours as you squirmed underneath her touches, whining slightly as she sucked on your skin. 

“Wait, Wanda,” you called out and she immediately stopped to look at you, patiently waiting for whatever you had to say. “Don’t leave any marks.” 

Wanda blinked, feeling a sense of disappointment wash over her chest. She was excited to mark you, litter hickeys all over your skin as a reminder that you were hers for the night. 

But she only bit her lip and nodded in return, “I won’t.”

After a beat, Wanda started kissing you once again. This time, her hands traveled downwards, running them along your thighs and up to where they met the hem of your velvety dress. She pushed the fabric upwards, your skin meeting the cold air inch by inch. Wanda was quick to provide warmth, squeezing the softness of your push thighs. 

Her kisses eventually made their way down to the valley of your breasts, letting one of her hands grope your tits. Wanda groaned into your body as you let your hands run through her red hair, tugging at them slightly when she squeezed your tit with her palms. 

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered against you.

Getting to worship you like this, manifesting your true desires to her, and her alone, felt like a constant dream. She had always imagined what it would be like to see you like this; a hot mess underneath her, moaning for her to touch you. And now that it was here, she never wanted to let it go. 

She’d imagine all the ways, all the positions she’d take you in, and make sure to take good care of you both always. She couldn’t wait to make you feel good. God, it was driving her insane. She couldn’t wait to have you. She wanted to make you see how much better she would be for you. And if there was one thing she wanted more than this; it was time. She wanted this to last forever. She wanted to eliminate all of the chances that could make you slip away from her grasp. 

But you were here now, and she vowed to make it the best you’ve had with the time she was dealt with. 

Her hands squeezed your thighs slightly as she stared down, “Spread those legs for me, sweetheart?” 

Wanda kneeled and leaned down the moment your knees parted, the sight of your drenched laced panties coming into view from underneath your dress. Without a second thought, Wanda pressed the pads of her index and middle finger against the soaked fabric. With half-lidded eyes, she couldn’t help but lean down, pressing her nose against your clothed pussy.

“How are you this perfect?” Wanda sighed against your cunt, her fingers moving the fabric to the side to look at your wetness. 

“Wanda…”

She looked up from in between your legs and licked her lips eagerly, “Yes, baby?”

“Hurry, please,” you whined. You couldn’t wait anymore. “I need you.”

Wanda felt her knees go weak when she heard those words. The sound of your voice, her name coming from your mouth, your hands in her hair… It was all too, perfect—you were so perfect.

After moments of admiring the sight of you in her bed, Wanda finally hooked her thumbs under your panties and dragged them slowly down your legs, making sure you were watching as she did so. The moment they came off, Wanda dove head first in between your legs, dragging the flat of her tongue through your folds. Firm and long licks switched into quick, fast kitten licks against your clit that had your thighs shaking around her head in a matter of seconds. You threaded your hands into her hair, moaning at the suddenness of her attack against your cunt. You dripped your sweet juices onto her tongue, causing her to moan softly against your clit, sending vibrations through your body. 

“Tastes so fucking good, baby.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Wanda rolled her eyes to the back of her head, the taste of heaven filling her mouth. She moaned, lips and chin covered in her spit and your slick as she continued to eat you out. 

“Wanda!” You whined as she wrapped her mouth around your clit and sucked. 

The sight of your jaw dropping and your eyes rolling to the back of your head when she introduced her fingers into the mix was something she wanted to see over and over and over again. She carefully prodded your entrance with her middle finger, sucking onto your clit gently, teasing you by slipping barely an inch into you then pulling back out to rub you softly. As she did so, she could feel your hips buck and your legs tense up around her head as she hummed against your clit with a smile on her face. 

You were soaking wet, dripping your juices all over the covers of her bed. Carefully, she slipped a single finger into you all the way down to her knuckle. She then curled it, emitting the loudest whine you let out for her tonight. She continued to curl her finger over and over, occasionally giving your clit some attention, sucking slightly and licking it gently as your orgasm started to build. 

“Mmmph, fuck, Wanda, I—"

Her green eyes watched as you withered against her bed, because of her mouth, to taste you like this, and hear your delicious moans fall past your lips. She slipped a second finger into you, your velvety walls wrapping around her digits, coating them with your slick as you moaned into her pillow and pulled at the sheets. 

“That’s it, (Y/n),” she stared up in awe as she watched your head fall back into the pillow, moaning at the feeling of her digits moving inside of your pussy. “Keep on making those noises for me, beautiful.”

Her two fingers that were swallowed inside your warmth began to speed up the moment she wrapped her lips around your clit once more, and sucked as hard as she could. You screamed into her pillow, trying to close your legs shut, engulfing her head with your plush thighs. Wanda decided that this was the best way to go; suffocating between your legs with the taste of your juices on her tongue. 

Soon, your voice faded out and your moans became more like gasps and hiccups for air. Wanda closed her eyes, her mouth pulling away to move up your body, resting her lips against your neck as her breath fans across your skin. You whined and clawed at her back deliciously as Wanda pumped and pumped her fingers in and out of you at a faster pace. She could hear all of your juices squelching down there because of her fingers and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes back and moan at the sounds filling her room. She felt as if she was in heaven. 

Wanda’s eyes, her pupils blown out from lust and darkened in desire didn’t help either, as the wetness between your legs only seemed to pool more and more as she fucked into you.

“I’m gonna cum, Wanda—“

“Yeah? Gonna cum all over my fingers, baby?” She whispered in your ear, grunting against the side of your face as she pumped into you harder with her thumb pressing harshly in circles against your clit. 

Your orgasm hit hard, a sharp cry coming from your throat as you came, arching your back as Wanda slowed her movements. The sound of your cry sent shock waves straight down to her own core, and her eagerness to move inside of you, pressing against that spot in your pussy caused you to gasp and cry out again, shaking violently as you came around her fingers.

“Oh, fuck,” Wanda groaned against your neck, breathing heavily against you as you trembled in her bed. God, she wished she could make love to you forever. 

And knowing that she couldn’t, Wanda made use of the time she had left for the rest of the night and fucked you for as time would allow her until the two of you grew tired and passed out on her bed. 

Wanda held you close, pulling her blankets over you, naked bodies pressed together as you slept for the rest of the night. She savored the precious moments the two of you shared, knowing that her time with you was fleeting and she might not get a chance as good as this. She took some time to watch as you slept for a bit, her heart swelling with the feeling of you against her. It felt perfect, like you were made to fit right into her arms. 

But a bittersweet reality loomed over Wanda's thoughts, a reminder that you belonged to another, your heart already spoken for by a distant boyfriend. The one person she envied, deeming him unworthy of your love. She wondered what it would be like to claim the entirety of your heart, to be the one who could provide solace and security for you in every waking moment, and not just for tonight. 

Wanda's eyes traced the delicate curve of your cheek, her fingertips brushing against the soft strands of your hair. With a tender touch, she brushed her lips against your forehead, pressing a small kiss on your skin before falling asleep herself, while listening to the soft sound of your breathing. 

She wished that this was forever. And she wished you wanted her the same way she wanted you. 

A soft rustling sound reached Wanda’s ears, like the delicate whisper of fabric against fabric. Fluttering her eyes open slowly, Wanda could feel the subtle shift of the mattress, the gentle weight redistribution that accompanied your movement. Through half-closed eyes, Wanda's gaze settled upon your silhouette as you leaned down to pick your clothes up. You were in nothing but your underwear and you sat there for a second to look down at your phone, the glow of the screen casting gently upon your face. 

“Hey,” Wanda whispered softly, propping herself up on one of her elbows, eyes still struggling to keep open.

You looked up in surprise, turning to see her rubbing her eyes as she looked at you, “Hey…”

“What’re you…” Wanda yawned and ran a hand through her hair. “What’re you doing? Are you leaving?”

There was a slight pout on her lips that you didn’t fail to notice. You watched her eyes lazily dart to the digital clock on her nightstand, furrowing her eyebrows slightly before turning her drowsy gaze away to look at you again.

“It’s six in the morning… on a Saturday,” she said as if it was obvious. 

“I know,” you nodded and looked down at your phone, the screen completely filled with texts and missed calls from that boyfriend of yours. “I just… I think I should really get going, Wanda.”

There was a moment of silence. 

“Oh.”

Wanda sighed and sat up properly, grabbing her shirt from the floor to put on. A very big part of her wanted to ask you to stay, over and over again, so that she could wrap her arms around you, underneath the covers, have you lay your head on her chest, and sleep peacefully with you for as long as she could. 

But there was a slim chance you’d take that offer.

“I’ll drive you.”

“It’s fine,” you said, fixing your dress as you stood up from her bed. “I really don’t live that far.”

Truthfully, you did live quite a few ways away, but you wanted to sort out everything that was running through your head, and the time it would take to walk to your apartment might just let you do that. 

Wanda bit her lip, wondering if she had done something wrong. She thought that maybe you were regretting the night before, thinking that one of the best nights she’s ever lived through was possibly a mistake in your eyes. 

She hoped you didn’t think that. 

“Are you sure?” Wanda grabbed her keys from her desk, just in case you change your mind. “I’m not tired.”

“I’m positive, Wanda,” you smiled lightly, knowing very well she wanted to back to sleep. “It’s okay.”

As you gathered your belongings, your movements deliberate yet tinged with a touch of haste, Wanda's gaze lingered upon you, committing every detail to memory. The way your fingers deftly secured a strand of hair behind your ear, the determined set of your jaw as you walked towards the door, the fleeting glances you stole in Wanda's direction—each moment etched itself in Wanda’s mind. 

Time seemed to stretch as Wanda observed your preparations, each passing second amplifying the ache within her. She longed to reach out, to intertwine her fingers with yours and convince you to stay for a little while longer. 

But the choice, ultimately, rested with you, and Wanda knew that she had to honor that.

“Wait,” she called out suddenly, her tone infused with a soft concern that you couldn't ignore, just as you had placed a hand on the doorknob. “One second.”

You watched her step away, rushing over to her closet near the corner of her room, then pulling out some brown jacket. With a tender smile, Wanda approached you, her hands enveloped in the folds of her own jacket.

"Here," Wanda murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she offered the jacket to you. "It's probably cold out there." 

There was a vulnerability in her eyes, a hidden message that spoke of the lengths she would go to protect and care for you, even in the smallest ways. Your eyes widened slightly, surprised yet touched by Wanda's gesture. A myriad of emotions flickered across your face—gratitude, a touch of longing, and a hint of reluctance. You hesitated for a moment, torn between accepting Wanda's offering and the weight of your own conflicted feelings.

“If you’re not going to let me drive you… at least take this,” Wanda said, sensing your inner struggle. “You can return it whenever. Or don’t. Whichever is fine.”

Your hand trembled ever so slightly as you reached out and accepted the jacket. The fabric felt warm and comforting against your skin, as though it held a piece of Wanda's essence within its fibers.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of gratitude and unspoken emotions. 

Wanda watched as you slipped into her jacket carefully, letting it fall gracefully upon your shoulders. It was a tad bit loose on you, and Wanda only found it adorable, nonetheless. It was her first time seeing you in one of her clothes and she had to bite back that smile that was threatening to show on her face. With a gentle touch, Wanda adjusted the collar of the jacket, ensuring it provided the utmost comfort and warmth for you. 

You left soon after, leaving Wanda alone in the silence of her room. 

The crisp air brushed against your cheeks, its touch a gentle reminder of the outside world. After walking out of the neighborhood, the city streets unfolded before you as you ventured forth, enveloped in Wanda's jacket. It was warm, you thought, like her. Wanda was warm. You felt her warmth the night before as she held you delicately like she was afraid of breaking you. 

The weight of your actions pressed upon you, the guilt of infidelity intertwining with the intoxicating sensations that Wanda had awakened within you. Thoughts of your boyfriend, once a source of comfort and affection, mingled with memories of last night.

As you walked, the city whispered its secrets. The laughter of strangers, the busy morning road full of people heading into work in the early morning, the flickering lights of cafes and bars, and the intertwining streets became a chorus of reflections, mirroring the complexity of your emotions. 

You wondered what your boyfriend was up to now, probably sleeping, and if he even thought of the possibility of you cheating on him. Would he even care at this point? You had always been a loyal girlfriend before your relationship had started crumbling, always being there for him as much as you could, trying to make him happy, just as he did for you. But, now, everything seemed to be thrown away, and it was like you didn’t even know him anymore. 

Instead, you let your thoughts shift to Wanda—sweet and gentle Wanda. You couldn’t help but compare your boyfriend to her. In the course of a single night, Wanda had unraveled layers within you that had remained untouched for so long.

As you finally reached your apartment, you stood before the threshold, your heart heavy with the weight of your choices. With a deep breath, you stepped inside, the door closing behind you. The echoes of the city receded, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the echoes of conflicting emotions. You can’t help but think of the night before when Wanda showered you with that love and affection you’ve been craving. It was all you could think about. 

And in this moment, you felt that you missed Wanda more than you did your boyfriend. 

The entire month came around quickly, and the world around you sprang back to life, bustling with the rhythms of college life. The campus hummed with the energy of students making their way to their classes. As you made your way to the art building, you found yourself clutching a bouquet of vibrant flowers, another peace offering from your boyfriend, a gesture meant to make amends for doing something that hurt your feelings. Again. It was typical.

Yet, you didn’t feel anything as you looked at the flowers. The colors of the flowers seemed muted, the petals lacking the vibrancy that you craved. You couldn't help but feel a tinge of disappointment, a sense of disconnection that overshadowed any gratitude you should have felt. You couldn't shake the nagging sensation that something essential was missing.

And Wanda felt the same thing, if not, more. God, she missed you the moment you slipped out of her arms that morning. Just the thought of you in her bed, moaning her name just like you did that night sent her into orbit. She wanted you all over again. She needed you. And she just couldn’t help herself. Not when she got the taste of what it would be like to have you in that way. You were addicting. She wanted more. So much more. 

So, then, it happened again. And again. And again.

For the past month, you’ve betrayed your boyfriend, seeking solace and love in the arms of Wanda. Every stolen moment, every secret rendezvous, ignited a passionate flame within you that you had never experienced before. She made love to you every week that passed. You’ve been having frequent late nights in Wanda's room, hidden within the walls of the sorority house. She made love to you every week that passed, stole you away from your classes to make out with you in secret, wanting to have her hands all over you as much as she could. A lot of the time, it would happen on nights when your boyfriend would drag you to another party and he was too caught up to notice that you’d disappear, stolen away by Wanda so that she could keep you all to herself. 

On one hand, you felt guilty. But on the other hand, your heart yearned for Wanda and her touches, her gentle words, and the way she looked at you. With Wanda, you felt seen, heard, and cherished in a way you had never experienced before.

As your mind wandered through the labyrinth of your thoughts, everything around you seemed to fade into a blur of colors and shapes. But just as you were lost in the depths of your reverie, a soft but distinct knock echoed through your ears, jolting your senses.

“What are you painting?”

You snapped out of your trance and took in your surroundings. Unbeknownst to you, your art class, your final class of the day, had ended, and the studio was empty. Startled, your gaze shifted abruptly towards the door frame behind you, where a familiar figure stood, their presence bringing an instant surge of warmth to your heart. It was Wanda, the one who had occupied your thoughts so incessantly. She was leaning against the doorframe with her arms folded. 

“What are you doing here?” You stood quickly, eyes flickering with a sense of surprise and worry.

“I missed you.”

You rushed out of your seat, quickly making your way over to where she stood. Wanda shifted under your gaze the moment you reached behind her to close the studio door before grabbing her arm and pulling her further into the room in case anyone saw her. Caught off guard by the sudden pull, Wanda stumbled slightly, her attention instantly captured by the sight of you.

You stood before her, clad in an artist's apron, tiny smudges of paint adorning your cheeks and hands. Your shirt, with its sleeves carefully folded, revealed glimpses of the same colors that lived on your canvas. And Wanda couldn’t help but smile at you.

“What are you smiling about?” You rolled your eyes, shyly tucking your hair behind your ear as you turned around to avoid her stare.

Wanda shook her head but kept the smile on her face, following closely behind you as you sat back down on the stool in front of your easel, “Nothing.”

“Seriously,” you say, rolling your eyes before picking the paintbrush up from your table. “What are you doing here?”

“Um,” Wanda struggled to find an excuse, “I was walking by and thought I’d come see you… just to see what you were up to.”

It wasn’t a total lie. But she missed you so much that she practically ran across the whole campus just to get to this building. And to be honest, she couldn't stop missing you if she tried. A month has passed since you left her bedroom that night, and the following weeks spent sneaking around with you almost felt both unsettling and heavenly to her—she had you, but at the same time, she didn’t. And, she hated it. 

In truth, Wanda's last class was located on the other side of the campus, far from the art studio. But the distance mattered little to her. She had to see you, and now that she did, fighting the urge to touch you was practically unbearable.

“I’m working on my final piece,” you told her, staring down at the palette box on the wooden table, using a palette knife to mix your oils. “It’s just some finishing touches. It won’t dry soon enough if I do a thicker layer… even though I should, but it has to be done by next Wednesday…”

You went on rambling quietly about what else you needed to do as if you were not only talking to her but also reminding yourself, which was cute, Wanda thought. She listened intently, slowly making her way closer behind you, peeking over your shoulder with a curious smile as her hand slowly rested against your hip. 

“What’s on Wednesday?” She asked, her front now pressed against your back as you continued to paint. 

Your breath hitched at the contact, but you made no move to back away. She was warm—and you learned that you loved that about her. You could feel her face next to yours, closely observing each stroke of your brush, watching how your fingers danced over the canvas.

“Well, it’s due Wednesday and there’s, uh,” you cleared your throat, suddenly feeling nervous and fuzzy in your chest knowing she was so close to you. “An exhibit. It’s on Friday, actually, but they need to finish preparing for it by Thursday. The art professors are choosing some students to showcase their portfolios at the museum down the road. It’s funded by the university.”

Wanda’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “And you got chosen as one of the artists? Out the whole art department?”

You laughed and shook your head, “Don’t make it a big deal—“

“But it is a big deal!” Wanda turned her head to look at you, her eyes watching your features closely. “It’s amazing. Really.”

Your heart skipped a beat and your breath hitched in your throat as you turned to face Wanda, the tips of your noses brushing against each other, causing you to pull your head back slightly. Your eyes widened, taking in the breathtaking proximity of your faces, your breaths mingling in the shared space in between. And you began to notice things you’ve never really taken the time to admire.

Wanda's bright green eyes, like emerald gems, sparkled with a mixture of affection and curiosity. The strands of her tousled red hair tumbled slightly, probably from wind from outside, framing her features with an effortless charm. You drank in the sight of Wanda, committing every line and curve to your memory.

“I think you’re amazing,” Wanda whispered, her eyes darting from your eyes down to your lips.

You watched her eyes as she did so, your cheeks flushing slightly—usually because of the fact that she always wanted to kiss you. 

Your voice trembled with a mix of uncertainty and longing as she began, “Wanda, wait… I don’t think we should—“

But before you could complete your sentence, Wanda tilted her head and closed the gap, her lips meeting yours in a gentle, yet fervent, kiss. Your initial protest was lost in the softness of Wanda's lips against your own as your eyes fluttered closed. Wanda's lips, warm and tender, spoke volumes of the love and adoration she held for you, and you couldn’t help but kiss her back. 

The kiss deepened, Wanda running her tongue along your bottom lip, wrapping her arms, and running her hands around your waist from behind you as you welcomed her into your mouth with a soft moan. She had been wanting to kiss you again since the last time she saw you, and now that it was finally here, it felt like a dream come true. 

You made out with Wanda until you felt like you were about to faint. You pulled away to catch your breath, keeping Wanda still by holding her shoulders in place as she continued to chase for your lips.

“Wanda,” you breathed, your mind filling itself with conflicting thoughts. 

“No one’s going to see,” she tried to reassure you, her lips brushing against yours.

“T-That’s not what I’m worried about,” A sigh falls from your mouth, turning your head away from her before she could lean back in.

Wanda's eyes tried to search yours, filled with a mixture of determination and longing, wanting nothing more than to press her lips against your mouth over and over again. Her voice trembled with a blend of frustration and vulnerability as she asked, “Then, what are you worried about?”

“I-I’ve been wanting to talk to you. This whole month with you… It’s been amazing. You’ve been perfect. Truly. But, I… I don’t know if this is a good idea… anymore… and I’m still with Tyler,” you finally let out, struggling to find the right words to say.

She paused, suddenly feeling tense after listening to you. 

“Then, break up with him,” she said softly, eyes gazing into yours, concentrating on what you had to say. 

“Wanda…”

“You said it’s been amazing. I don’t…” She shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows for a split second. “I don’t understand why this isn’t a good idea anymore. I don’t understand why you won’t break up with him. Do you even still like him? Do you not like me?”

You stood from your seat and walked a couple of paces away from her. “Of course, I like you.”

Wanda clenched her jaw, watching you carefully as you ran your hand through your hair, “You know what I mean.”

And for a moment, you don’t answer. It wasn’t because you weren’t sure of what the answer was, it was because of how sure you were. Wanda had given you so much love in one month and within this hour than Tyler could’ve given you in the past year. You couldn’t love Wanda even if you were tired. 

You closed your eyes, and sighed, “I do, Wanda.”

“Then, why are you still with him?”

“I don’t—I don’t know…” You stammered, frustration washing over your entire face. “I-I’ve been with him for so long and I’ve seen all of the good and the bad and I just can’t stop thinking about things like… what if he changes? I want to believe that he can, and lying to him constantly is starting to take a toll on me.”

“How long are you going to hold on to that ‘what if’? Hm? It’s been a month and he still hasn’t done anything to make you happy! He’s not just going to change overnight and besides, you’ve been constantly trying to talk to him about what’s wrong or what’s bothering but he doesn’t even seem to care!” She yelled, shaking her head slightly, “And what if he never changes? What if he keeps treating you like this? What then?”

Your eyes glistened with unshed tears as you listened to Wanda’s voice, tinged with a mixture of heartbreak and determination. Love, fear, loyalty, and doubt waged a fierce internal war within you. You knew deep down that Wanda was right, that your relationship with him was eroding your own happiness.

“Well, what are you asking me to do?” Wanda asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

“I-I don’t know—“

“If you’re going to ask me to just be friends with you, I’m not doing it,” she said, shaking her head, the thought of it waking her heart. “I can’t… I can’t just be friends with you.”

Your eyes softened at her words, “Wanda…”

“And, I know it’s scary. I know… It’s not going to be easy. I know you really liked him at some point back then, and that it’s hurting you that he’s like this,” Wanda said with a heavy heart as she watched the first of your tears run down your face. It tore her apart to be the one to make you cry, but she knew that you needed to hear it. “But, I really like you, too. And, I want to do things right with you. I want to take you out on dates and share the things I have with you. I want to kiss you. So many times. I want to worship you. I want to give you all the things you deserve. But, I don’t want to do any of that while you’re suffocating yourself in this relationship... You’re not happy with him, (Y/n). Not like you are with me.”

Your gaze faltered, torn between the love you felt for Wanda and the lingering ties that bound you to a toxic relationship. Fear and uncertainty swirled within you, clouding your judgment and eclipsing the clarity of your own desires. 

Wanda furrowed her eyebrows again, her gaze landing on the flowers on the table, “Are these from him?”

The fact that you don’t say anything else answers Wanda’s question. She nodded, pain filling her chest as she stared at your back. Feeling like you ripped her heart right out of her, jealousy filled her veins and she grabbed her bag and made her way to the door. 

“He’s a dick, (Y/n),” she started, halting in her tracks before she could walk out. “Love isn’t about hiding behind a bouquet of flowers to avoid talking to you. It’s not about waiting to see if things get better when all he does is give you a five-dollar bouquet as his way to apologize. He should be on his knees begging for your forgiveness. Because, if I were him, I’d do everything and anything to make sure you’re happy. I hope you know that.”

Then, she left.

You don’t see her for the next several days, not after that argument. She doesn’t text or call you and she doesn’t visit the art building anymore. 

Days turned into nights, and you found yourself anxiously waiting for a message, a call, or any form of contact from Wanda. But the silence remained unbroken, leaving you to question the depth of the chasm that had grown between you. Your heart longed for Wanda's presence, for the sound of her voice, and the comfort of her embrace. 

You replayed the argument over and over in your mind, dissecting every word exchanged and every emotion unleashed. You understood Wanda's frustration, her desire to be together with you, free from the toxicity that clung to your current relationship. And yet, fear had clouded your judgment, chaining you to a life that no longer brought you happiness. 

The nights turned into weeks, and your heart grew heavier with each passing moment. You yearned for the sound of Wanda's laughter, the warmth of her smile, and the unwavering support she had always offered for you. The absence of her presence was a constant reminder of the choice you had made and the potential consequences of that choice. Two weeks had passed since the argument, and the silence that lingered between the two of you weighed heavily on your spirit.

And soon, Friday came: the night of the exhibit. A mixture of excitement and nervousness coursed through your veins. The gallery buzzed with activity, the air thick with the scent of anticipation. Your artwork adorned the walls along with several other students, each stroke of your brush conveying emotions you had kept hidden for so long.

As the guests began to trickle in, your eyes scanned the crowd, searching for a familiar face amidst the sea of strangers. Each passing moment filled you with a sense of anticipation. You wondered if Wanda would come, and if she remembered it. The murmurs and laughter of the attendees swirled around you, blending into an indistinct background noise.

As the minutes ticked away, each second seemed to stretch into eternity. Your heart raced, your palms clammy with nervous anticipation. And then, in the midst of your restless thoughts, about an hour into the exhibit, a figure appeared at the entrance of the gallery. Wanda's presence filled the room, her vibrant aura commanding attention.

You approached her, but you couldn't help but notice the subtle signs of conflict etched upon her face. Wanda's eyes, usually filled with a gentle glow, held a mixture of hope and trepidation. It was clear that she had taken a risk by attending the exhibit, despite the wounds of your recent disagreement.

The room seemed to quiet around the two of you as you inched your way closer, as if the universe recognized the significance of this moment. Your heart swelled with a mix of gratitude and remorse, realizing the depth of Wanda's love and her willingness to be there for you, even when it felt like she hadn’t spoken to you in ages. 

Wordlessly, you stood beside Wanda, your shoulders almost touching, as you both gazed at the art that surrounded them. As the colors of your artwork danced across the gallery walls, you allowed yourself to hope, to believe that perhaps forgiveness and second chances were possible. And standing beside her, Wanda silently promised to be there, ready to support and love you, no matter the outcome.

“You came,” you breathed out, once you were close enough for her to hear. “You… you didn’t have to.”

Wanda turned at the sound of your voice, taking a moment to admire the way you looked tonight. The sight of you only made her curse under her breath, questioning why you had to look so damn good all the time. 

“Of course, I came,” she said, subtle eyes skimming over the dress that wrapped around your curves. “I wouldn’t miss it. But, I am a little bit late… I didn’t know when it was starting.”

Your eyebrows twitched upwards as you listened to her words, pursing your lips as a way to hide the pain you were feeling in your chest, “No, it’s okay. I–I’m glad you’re here. I’m really happy you’re here.”

You hadn't expected Wanda to come, not after the fight and the painful silence that had ensued for the past two weeks. But she came anyway, to one of the most important nights you had been preparing for throughout the year and you were beyond grateful. You could kiss her right now. 

But the pain you felt in your chest mostly stemmed from the fact that seeing Wanda here tonight made you recall what had happened between you two in the art studio. For the whole week, you thought you wouldn’t see her again, and it hurt to think that when that was all you wanted. 

And not only that, but you were also disappointed in the fact that you couldn’t see Tyler anywhere. You wondered if he was going to come tonight, or if he even remembered. But, that doesn’t even matter to you anymore. It hurt, of course, but it was a typical feeling you grew tired of. She was right. And deep down, even though you chose to do the opposite of what she said, you knew she was, too. You felt guilty for hurting Wanda, and for trying to believe in your boyfriend when she had been telling you from the start that he wasn’t going to change. 

“Um,” you started, trying to find the words to say. “How do you like it so far? The exhibit? Did you get to walk around a bit?”

Wanda smiled lightly, noticing that this was your way to have a conversation with her, “Yeah, yeah, I did. It’s amazing. Everyone did a great job. You’re all really talented.”

“Thank you,” you cleared your throat, turning away to hide the blush on your cheeks. 

“Your paintings are breathtaking, (Y/n),” she said, her eyes tracing the strokes of your artwork with admiration. “Almost just as stunning as their maker.”

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes playfully, nudging her shoulder a bit. You knew it was a way for her to lighten up the mood on a night that was so important to you. 

“I’m serious,” Wanda smiled gently. “You look beautiful. Really. That dress… You’re stunning.”

A blush tinted your cheeks as she glanced down at your attire, a mixture of gratitude and unease evident in your expression. "Thank you, Wanda."

You were grateful. You really were. Tears of appreciation welled up in your eyes, reflecting the flickering lights of the gallery, as you thought about Wanda. You felt as if you didn't deserve Wanda's unwavering support, but you also couldn't deny the overwhelming gratitude you felt.

While your eyes occasionally darted to your phone, a sense of resignation had settled within you. You had sent countless messages to your boyfriend, seeking his whereabouts and wondering about his presence, but with each unanswered text, the realization began to crystallize in your heart. He would never change for you. He would never prioritize your happiness or love you the way you deserved.

As your eyes swept over the crowd, you struggled to find your boyfriend anywhere. His absence spoke volumes, a stark reminder of the shortcomings of your relationship and the love that had dwindled over time. But, Wanda's presence radiated with unwavering support and affection, reminding you of the love she had found in the midst of chaos. 

“(Y/n)!” Another student called out for you. “Professor is looking for you. Some other teachers are asking about one of your paintings.”

“Oh, right. Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” you told her, biting your lip as you turned back around to face Wanda. “I… I have to go. But, if it’s okay, do you think you could… I’m allowed to leave in about thirty minutes—The students just need to be here for the opening since that’s when all of the critics and important art people and professors come in… And the gallery stays open for the rest of the night anyway, but after that, I’m free to go… So I was wondering if you could… I mean, if you even want to—”

“Yeah, I-I’ll wait for you,” she said with a smile, nodding her head eagerly without a second thought, interrupting your adorable ramble before you could even ask your question. 

You had to fight a smile that was slowly making its way onto your face, “Okay, I-I’ll find you.”

Reluctantly, you stepped away to find your professor, who gestured toward a group of important art figures gathered nearby. You made your way towards them, your mind divided between the conversation that awaited you and Wanda. With each stolen glance, you couldn't help but notice the softness in Wanda's features, the way her eyes shimmered with a mix of emotions that mirrored her own.

Engaging in polite conversation with the art professionals, your attention wavered, your thoughts constantly drifting back to Wanda. You wanted to go back to her. As you listened intently to the conversation before you, your eyes would inevitably wander back to Wanda, who moved quietly, her every gesture captivating and graceful as she looked around

Yet, you knew that this conversation with your professor held importance for your artistic future. So, you remained present, exchanging pleasantries and discussing your work, all the while feeling the pull of your emotions toward Wanda, who appeared lost in your own thoughts as she explored the gallery.

When the conversation drew to a close, your professor commended you on your talent and potential, expressing a desire to further support your artistic journey. Grateful for the recognition, you excused yourself, your steps immediately directing themselves toward Wanda, who stood near a captivating sculpture. Your heart quickened as you made your way through the bustling gallery, your mind consumed with conflicting emotions. 

But before you could reach her, your eyes caught the sight of a familiar man standing passed the glass doors of the gallery. He stood out by the entrance, a bouquet in his palm as he was about to step into the building. 

Without wasting another second, you rushed over to where he stood, to try and keep him out because you felt that he didn’t belong here anymore. 

“What are you doing here?” you said quietly, your voice tinged with a mix of exhaustion and frustration.

“(Y/n)! I’m so sorry for being late. I-I got caught up with work. You know how it is, and—and I couldn’t find the building and there was so much traffic when I was driving here,” Tyler said, muttering excuses after excuses. He held out the bouquet, his expression filled with contrived sincerity, “These are for you. I know how much you like them—”

“Tyler, I don’t want the flowers,” You shook your head, not even batting an eyelash at the way his arms dropped to the side after you said that sentence, gripping the plastic of the bouquet tightly in his hand. “I don’t want you here. I want you to leave.”

Confusion flickered across Tyler's face, quickly replaced by defensiveness. “What? I just fucking got here. I-I came to support you—”

“I am not going to do this with you again,” You rolled your eyes and glanced to the side, too furious to even look at him.

"Do what?"

“This, Tyler. I’m done. I’m done embarrassing myself. I’m tired you of treating me like shit. I can’t believe I spent so long trying to believe you’d change for me, but I’m not going to do that anymore. I’m done,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat as tears welled up in your eyes.

Anger flashed across his face, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "What the fuck are you talking about? We've been together for years. We can work through this. It’s just a rough patch."

“No, Tyler. It isn’t. I’ve already tried talking to you about this! So many times! But you just ignore me, you don’t talk to me, you don’t pay any attention to me, you flirt with everyone else and all you do for me is buy me so many goddamn flowers like they mean something for you!”

“You’re fucking unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes as he turned to look away.

“I’m unbelievable? Are you kidding me?”

“Yes, you are! You’re always so fucking boring! Always sitting alone at parties, always wanting to leave early, and you never want to go out—“

“How is this my fault?” You cried out in frustration. “You… You don’t even love me anymore.”

“What, and you do?”

The argument spilled onto the streets, voices raised and emotions running high. Your heart ached as the realization hit you with crushing force—this was the end. The end of a relationship that had long been tainted by neglect, disrespect, and a lack of true connection.

“I’m not doing this again, Tyler. We’re done. You can go find some other girl to give those stupid flowers to. Because, it’s not going to be me.”

Without saying more, you stepped back into the gallery and rushed through the gallery, heading straight into the office room where you kept your things. You closed the door behind you, tears streaming down your face. You leaned against the table, your body trembling with both relief and sadness. The echoes of the breakup reverberated in your mind, reminding you of the pain you had endured and the weight that had been lifted from your shoulders.

As you allowed yourself to surrender to your emotions, you were unaware that Wanda had been watching when you ran into the room, seeing the tears that threatened to roll down your cheeks as you walked. But she waited. Wanda understood the need for you to process your feelings in private, respecting your space while patiently waiting for you. 

Minutes passed and you wiped away your tears, taking deep breaths to steady your trembling form. You decided that you felt like the building was suffocating you and that you needed to leave, but you remembered Wanda. With each passing moment, your heart began to steady and you slowly grabbed your things before heading out again. You knew that your decision to break away from Tyler was the right one, even if it meant venturing into unknown territory with Wanda. 

As you finally gathered the strength to leave the room, you slowly opened the door, your eyes adjusting to the dim lighting of the gallery once again. And there, standing just a few steps away, was Wanda. She gave you a small smile as you slowly made your way towards her. 

“Hey, is everything okay?” Wanda watched as you tried to avoid her eyes as a way to hide the fact that you were crying. But she saw right through you.

You finally spoke, your voice trembled slightly, "I, um, think I need to get out of here, away from all this... everything. I know I asked you to wait—."

“No, it’s okay,” Wanda nodded immediately, her expression filled with empathy. "I’ll drive you home."

And normally, you’d protest and say you can go alone instead, but Wanda made no room for you to argue when she already started making her way towards the doors. Your eyes flickered with gratitude as you leaned into Wanda's presence, following closely behind her. 

You stepped outside, the cool night air embracing the both of you as Wanda led you to her car. She opened the door for you, gesturing for you to slide into the passenger seat. You settled into the seat, glancing at Wanda as she made her way into her own, your eyes shimmering with vulnerability. Starting the engine, Wanda guided the car onto the open road of the city, leaving the gallery and its lingering shadows in the rearview mirror. The world outside the windows slowly became a blur of city lights and passing landscapes as time passed. 

The drive was quiet. The soft hum of the car engine filled the air as she drove you home in a comforting silence. You sat quietly in the passenger seat, your gaze fixed on the passing streetlights, getting lost in your own thoughts. But Wanda stole glances at you whenever she could, her eyes tracing the delicate curve of your profile, sitting so pretty in the passenger seat of her car. You wore a jacket over that gorgeous dress you wore, and every fiber of Wanda's being yearned to reach out, to hold your hand, or put hers over your thigh. 

But she restrained herself. 

The car eventually glided to a stop in front of your apartment, the engine purring into silence. Wanda turned off the ignition and her gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before she spoke softly. 

“We’re here,” she said, rubbing her hands against her jeans nervously. 

You pulled yourself out of your trance the moment her words reached your ears, glancing out the window for a moment before looking back at her. She was waiting. You met Wanda's gaze, a flicker of a smile gracing your lips. She was waiting. You nodded once again, but you didn’t move to get out or anything. 

Instead, you asked, “Do you want to come in?”

Wanda's eyes widened, eyebrows twitching in surprise, her initial shock giving way to a glimmer of hope that danced in the depths of her gaze. A gentle smile curved Wanda's lips, the subtlest of nods conveying her agreement, even fighting the urge to say ‘please.’

“Yeah.”

It was quiet when she entered your apartment, following behind in soft footsteps as you led her through your front door. She’s never really been inside before—all the secret nights you spent with her were in the comfort of her own room in the sorority house. She liked having you in her bed. Then again, she would love to be in yours, if you’d let her. 

The air felt heavy with unspoken words, tension lingering from the events that had unfolded at the gallery. She followed closely behind you, her footsteps light and cautious as you led her down the hall to your kitchen. The atmosphere in the apartment seemed hushed, almost as if it was holding its breath, mirroring the uncertainty that lingered in Wanda's mind. Her mind raced with thoughts of what she could say, how she could comfort you, or how to even begin talking to you. 

Leaning against the kitchen table, Wanda's gaze fixed upon your back, watching your every move as you prepared tea for her. Nervous anticipation coursed through her veins, a gentle thrum of excitement filling her chest as she stared at you. She found herself entranced by the sight of you before her. The dress hugged you in all of the right spots, every line and curve fitting you perfectly. And Wanda couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly the fabric draped over your frame, molding itself to you, as if it had been designed with you in mind. Wanda didn’t know how long she was staring. Her eyes traced the gentle sway of your hips as you reached for a teacup, and she wanted nothing more than to pull you close to her.

“I broke up with him,” you blurted out suddenly. 

Lost in her admiration, Wanda's breath hitched ever so slightly at the sound of your voice, pulling her out of her trance. 

“I-I feel more relieved than sad actually… It’s like… I don’t know,” you sighed. “Should I be feeling guilty for being happy that we broke up? I feel like should be crying right now, but I feel… thankful.”

Wanda watched as you continued to make two cups of tea, your back turned to her, listening to your words carefully. 

“I just don’t know if it’s okay for me to…”

You sighed again, and even if you didn’t finish your sentence, Wanda had a feeling she knew what you were going to say. She could sense the guilt and uncertainty that weighed heavily on your mind, knowing all too well the thoughts that plagued her.

Just as you were about to voice out the rest of your thoughts, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, holding you softly as her front pressed against your back, “Is this okay?”

For a moment, you don’t say anything, and Wanda wonders if she should pull away and keep her distance until you decide what you feel is right or wrong. But her thoughts dissipated when she felt you nod. She sighed in relief, letting her eyes flutter closed as she brought her head down to your shoulder, kissing your skin there. 

“I heard,” she started, mumbling into your shoulder so quietly that you almost didn’t hear. “When Tyler came. I just… I wanted to make sure he wouldn’t do anything.”

You stayed quiet as she spoke, slowly stirring the tea in the mug in front of you. Gently, she slipped her hand into yours, intertwining her fingers softly with yours before bringing it up to her face to kiss the back of your hand.

“I’m proud of you. Really. I am,” she said, rubbing the pad of her thumb along your skin.

“You were right,” You sighed and smiled gently, using your hands to run them over hers, the ones that rested against your stomach, holding you close against her, “I knew you were right. But, I should’ve listened to you sooner… I’m sorry.”

“No, no, you don’t have to apologize,” she said, shaking her head against your back. “I knew you were nervous about it. And that you were scared… I knew. But I pressured you about it anyway, even though I knew you weren’t ready yet.”

You turned around to look at her, your hands landing on her shoulders, “Wanda—“

“I would have waited either way. I already have been. I would still wait for you if you need me too,” she said, more sincerely than you’d ever heard anyone say anything before. “I would do anything.”

You stood there, your heart momentarily caught off guard by the surge of emotions that flooded your being. Wanda's words lingered in your mind, filled with a depth of sincerity that you had never experienced before. The toxic grip that your ex-boyfriend had held on your heart suddenly seemed insignificant, overshadowed by the overwhelming love you felt from just looking into Wanda’s eyes alone. You smiled sadly, slightly mad at yourself for not dropping everything to be with her sooner. 

Bringing your hand up to her face, you smoothed your thumb over her cheek as a way to calm her down, “You don’t have to wait anymore, Wanda.”

Wanda's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in surprise and hope. She searched your gaze, her heart pounding with anticipation, trying to find any signs of regret or disapproval. 

“Please tell me you’re saying what I think you’re saying,” she breathed, waiting for the response that would shape the path ahead. But as she looked into your eyes, she saw something that sparked joy within her.

You brought a second hand up to cup her face and leaned in to press your lips against her cheek. She closed her eyes at the contact, the soft kiss did well to erupt butterflies in her stomach. Wanda sighed and dropped her head to hide her face against your neck after you kissed her, her breath tickling your skin slightly as her grip around your waist grew tighter. The corners of her own lips curved up into a smile that she 

couldn’t fight, a soft chuckle bubbling in her throat as she breathed you in.

“Do you really want this with me?”

“I love you,” you said, more certain than ever, watching as Wanda’s breath hitched at the sounds of your words. You smiled needily, entirely in love and filled with so many emotions you couldn’t contain them all at once. “I want everything with you.”

It was finally here—the moment when she could finally call you hers. Heart pounding, she reached her arms around you again keeping herself in your embrace and wanting to be as close as possible to you.

She hid her face again by tucking it into the side of your neck, nuzzling as close as she could, “I can’t stop smiling.”

Gently scratching the nape of Wanda’s neck to grab her attention, you urged her to bring her head back up. But the moment she did, you felt her lips press against yours. Her patience had worn thin, wanting to taste you after what felt like forever of not being close to you, not being able to touch you, hold you, or kiss you. Wanda sighed into the kiss, her hands sliding to the small of your back to pull you impossibly close to her while you let yours run through her hair. She moaned into your mouth when you tugged on it slightly.

Wanda smiled against your lips, thinking about all the ways she would love you, treasure you, unlike him. Her mind wandered in between the time she kissed you, the addicting taste of you on her tongue was making her feel weak in her knees. She found her hands slowly traveling down to your hips, then lower and lower, up until they rested on the lowest part of your back, her fingers bunching up the fabric of your dress. 

“What are you doing?” You pulled back with a giggle, looking at her, acting innocently curious.

“Kissing you,” she said, dragging her lips along the skin under your jaw, kissing you softly there as you tilted your head to the side to give her more space. “Can I help you out of this dress? Please?”

You shuddered at the sound of her low voice, your hands gripping her shoulders like your life depended on it. You nodded, about to say yes, but Wanda was quick to put her mouth on yours the second you opened it, slipping her tongue past your lips. 

The entire night she had to see your figure so beautifully displayed in this little black dress and ignore it. But it was damn near impossible now with you so close and moaning into her mouth. Wanda was at a loss for words. She just didn’t know how to say it. Everything was perfect now. You were perfect. The way the straps of your dress fell off your shoulders was perfect. The way you smelled and tasted. The way that Wanda could call you hers now, keep you all to herself.

And finally, her chest heaved only for a moment before she chose what to do and you closed your eyes and welcomed something you had long dreamed of. 

— navigation!

#bellaveux writes! #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x reader #avengers x reader #elizabeth olsen #marvel x reader #marvel #elizabeth olsen x reader

[silkscream]

tender is the flesh

ੈ✩ synopsis: in which you're the only thing that can make the strongest sorcerer of the jujutsu world weak.

ੈ✩ cw: smut (minors dni), angst, yandere-adjacent gojo (he is so obsessed with you), religious imagery, unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, body worship, lots of biting, dacryphilia, possessive gojo

ੈ✩ wc: 2.5k

ੈ✩ a/n: [giggles nervously] gojo really went feral mode in this one! honestly this had more angst in mind because i was feeling So Horrible and then when i started writing the smut... someone else took over. anyways gojo is so obsessed with you that it might be a little unhealthy. like wants to live in your skin unhealthy. i think i actually wrote that word for word in the fic that's how down bad he is. runs away

gojo satoru won’t admit it to anyone, but he’s started to consider you an extension of himself. the missing piece, the phantom limb, however the cliche goes. even when he had ended things for the better, the ache would never dissipate until he found you again.

out of his own selfishness, he did.

once gojo had made up his mind that he was in love with you, he thought peace would come along with it. it did, in some aspects — your presence often acted like a summer breeze that eased his nerves. the warmth of your smile shined brighter than the sun.

and then other times, being in love with you was a new kind of violence. it churns in satoru when he’s alone, knotting in his stomach like a caged beast.

he knows you aren’t delicate. he’s watched you in all your beauty, all your bloodshed surrounded by the slain bodies of cursed spirits. he has held your calloused hands in his just to feel the pulse on your wrist. it’s a habit for him now whenever he touches you.

he has softened himself so much for you that he’s terrified to know that you’ve seen him in battle. he often wishes he could hide that from your memory, maybe make it disappear completely — the sadism that sparks in his eyes when he’s busy with his hands against curses and curse users.

he can’t suppress that violence within him — the one raging at him to leave you, ruin you, kill you. (he’d much rather you kill him, instead.)

right now, the sound of your even breathing is all that fills satoru’s ears despite the dread in his chest. when you twitch the slightest bit in your sleep, he has his arms around you in an instant, chin rested on the top of your head.

“satoru?”

“mm? thought you were asleep, baby.”

you nuzzle your nose into his bare chest. he can feel your eyelashes flutter against his skin. he chuckles when he notices you’re trying to adjust to make your face level to his.

“have you been awake this whole time?”

“uh… yeah,” he sighs. he doesn’t have an excuse this time like he usually does, but he’d rather die than relay his late-night thoughts to you out loud.

“can’t sleep?”

“i should be asking you that,” he chuckles. he tucks a stray strand of your hair behind your ear and moves to comb his fingers across your scalp just the way you like. the feeling of it makes you shiver.

“i was having one of those dreams,” you whisper. “the ones where i’m like, half awake. and you’re there, holding me.”

“yeah?”

“mhm. and then i tried to adjust so i could kiss you, and… and then you disappeared.”

“i’d never disappear on you.”

but you did. you don’t say it out loud, because you don’t blame him for trying to leave you the way he had months before.

he’d told you once that being with him was a death sentence in itself. it took a great amount of sacrifice and carnage for him to realize that you would never let that happen by your hand. he had discovered it in your bloody hands and the shallow breaths you’d taken after countless missions.

“i’m glad it wasn’t a nightmare.”

“what do you mean?” you coo, your big eyes blinking back at him. “not being able to kiss you sounds like a nightmare to me.”

he lets out a breathy laugh. he replies by giving you a peck on your hairline.

“satoru.”

“yes?”

“do you ever get nightmares?” you yawn.

it’s an innocent question. satoru is more likely to say no, because usually he has a dreamless sleep. he hasn’t gotten nightmares since suguru died, and even then, satoru has seen more gore and split limbs than a normal man should. he also recognizes that he isn’t a normal man.

“never. not when i get to sleep next to you.”

“right. six eyes isn’t afraid of anything.”

“that’s not true.”

“oh, yeah? what scares you, then?”

he holds your chin in between his fingers and his thumb.

“you, honestly.”

“me?” you giggle in genuine surprise.

“yes, you. i don’t think you have any idea of what power you hold over me.”

“says the strongest sorcerer,” you tease, rolling your eyes.

“i’m serious,” he mutters. “it’s terrifying, really. sometimes i want— i want you so selfishly. to own you. you’re so—”

“i’m what, satoru?” your voice is a wavering murmur now. he’s sure he’s scared you now.

“completely unprecedented. it’s fucking ridiculous.”

he would tell you he loves you, but that would make it real. real in the sense that those three words are an incantation that would most likely lead the both of you towards doom. despite already hurtling towards it, he prefers to delude himself by telling you in a million different ways that you make him weak.

he’s already accepted his spot in hell. on the other hand, you are too heavenly to accompany him, so he’ll keep you in this lifetime.

satoru rubs his hand on the soft skin of your neck and shoulder. in a certain lens, it’s innocent and loving. nurturing, even. but you know better.

gojo satoru sees you as his other half, as a necessity to the very fiber of his being, and he still wants to wreck you.

he dreams of it often. he usually has you tied up in red rope, something soft and pretty and comfortable. he likes the image of you docile, your skin so supple and malleable underneath his large hands.

you curl into satoru because you know that’s what he craves. you exhale into his collarbone and he thinks he might just lose his mind.

“you’re weird, six eyes.” there’s more that you want to say but you don’t know how to piece it all together in a way that makes sense. all the desire crawling out of your throat comes out in hushed breaths.

“i’m horrible.”

“no,” you grin. “just weird. but i like you that way.”

admittedly, you are on the brink of sleep. meanwhile, he is on the brink of imploding into himself if he doesn’t feel your touch. so, of course, he takes matters into his own hands.

you barely question it when satoru touches his full lips to yours. luckily for him, you don’t mind, either. he’s more than ecstatic to feel you melting into his body as you kiss him back, his tongue pillowy as it teases yours.

you’ve done this before with him plenty of times, but it would be a stretch to say that you’re particularly used to it. in every way, his mouth anywhere on your body makes you feel electric. in your sleepy haze, you accept it, because you’re convinced you’ve never felt anything better.

when his mouth leaves you, you can’t help but mewl pathetically.

“what is it, baby?” he rasps.

“don’t stop.”

“what do you want, hm?” he teases. “tell me.”

if you were more awake, you’d flush and retreat into yourself out of embarrassment. there’s a part of satoru that wishes to see that part of you right now.

in a sick, twisted way, it turns him on even more — the prospect of you being so unaware of how obsessed he is with you. of how he’d be more than content with simply living in your skin, knowing all the ways you move and all the ways you tick. he has you memorized, certainly, but he hasn’t gotten ahold of all of you. he’d forfeit his status and his work just for a bit just so he could learn all of you from the inside out.

satoru is so sure that his desire for you is too much. so much that it would disgust you the same way it disgusts himself. and it’s not that he finds the act of wanting you disgusting — it’s the mere caliber of his desire. it’s become otherworldly.

he’d rather coax out a confession from you, instead, just so he can feel better about himself.

“want more.” the sound of your voice is small. pathetic.

“want more what, huh? be more specific.”

“i— i want you to touch me. please?” you stammer. your eyes blink up to satoru’s for just a moment and he swears it’s the most adorable sight. the usual sharpness of his gaze softens.

he chuckles, reveling in the desperation of your voice.

“where? here?”

you hiss at the feeling of his long fingers cupping the damp mound of your underwear, reflexively bucking into his palm. he’s so tantalizing with how he moves the fabric to the side. your wetness gathers on his fingertips as he rubs your clit.

“y-yeah.”

“so pent up,” he groans. “all because you couldn’t kiss me in your dream, hm?”

“fuck.”

“my poor baby. ‘s so easy to make you feel good, isn’t it?”

you mewl his name, turning each syllable a staccato. your blink wildly at the feeling of his teeth gnawing at your collarbone as he keeps a steady rhythm on your clit. the movements are so gentle yet rapid. the coil inside of you is so close to breaking.

your eyes are squeezed in anticipation of your release. it’s probably good that you aren’t looking at his face, because the way satoru stares down at you is something indescribable. he looks at you like you created him. he’ll probably get sick from how prodigious his love is. his devotion will be the cause of his ruination.

“s-satoru! i’m— ”

“shhh,” he coos into your ear. “s’okay. you’re so good, look at you. so fucking pretty.”

you don’t even notice the tears pricking the corner of your eyes. when you look into satoru’s blue ones, you gasp at how blown out his pupils are, visible even in the dimness of your room.

he grins like a devil. he’s determined to have you overdose on him just so he can be the one to bring you back to life.

“fuck, don’t look at me like that,” he groans. “i’ll cum before i’m even inside you.”

satoru lifts up your (his) t-shirt so he can hook his teeth around your nipple. one hand grasps your waist hard enough to bruise while his other hand covers your mouth. he slips his fingers onto your tongue. when you suck obediently, licking up your taste, satoru makes a wounded sound, a whimper like a devoted dog.

you want to kiss him, lick into his mouth, but the hold he has on your hips is resolute, as if he’s sure that you’ll disappear. his demeanor is always wild during intimacy, often cocky, but this time it’s more primal than usual.

“so fucking cute when you fall apart for me,” he mumbles, his mouth moving upwards now to suckle on your collarbone. “just for me, yeah?”

“mhm,” you moan. his hands all over you makes your mind completely erratic. you barely register his words after chasing the high of your orgasm.

“say it. want you to say it.”

“’m yours, satoru,” you whine. “all of this — ah! — just for you.”

your legs are shaking so much from his fingers on your clit again. he has you overstimulated from his touch. the sounds that come out of your mouth have to be awakening something divine in him. the knife inside him twists inward.

“mine, mine, mine,” he mutters into your skin, slotting his hips with yours. he enters you without warning, a hard thrust that has your body bending to his will.

“no one wants you more than i do, you know that? if anyone even tries to test me, i’d kill them.”

“satoru—”

you can barely grasp language at this point. he laughs a little when he sees your eyes roll back and the sound of it is both melodic and a little mean.

“oh my god,” you whimper. tears start falling down your cheeks.

satoru might be a sadist — the sight makes his heart fucking swell. he wants to tear you apart and put you back together. he wants to worship you.

and god, the begging. the aching way your voice breaks as you say his name and the word please.

he’s carnal with his teeth at your throat. his hips stutter when he feels how tightly you suck him in, how he can feel your cunt contract when he hits a certain spot.

satoru thinks he’s been hungry for you all his life. if being the strongest sorcerer wasn’t his reason for being alive, he thinks that being able to see you sprawled out like this underneath him is reason enough.

satoru is many things. he’s arrogant, assured, depraved. he’s certainly annoying to anyone that knows him. but above all, to nobody else but you, he is fucking obsessive.

he loses himself in your pussy. with his cock pushed inside you to the hilt, he is yours and no one else’s. no one else can touch him like you do. no one else touches him.

“i’m so close,” you gasp.

“poor thing. is that what’s got you crying so much?” he taunts.

“y-yes! fuck—”

“you’re so pretty when you cry. i love it.”

you flush under his gaze, heat pooling in your stomach. when you attempt to cover your face with your arms and at least wipe away your tears, satoru holds down your wrists.

“don’t hide from me,” he groans. “wanna see my pretty girl when she cums.”

he can feel his dick twitching inside of you. you’re so fucking tight. the lewd sound of him drilling into you is obscene, but the look on your face is fucking divine.

he loves to claim you, to mark you up. he remembers how much you like it, too, especially when his long, pretty fingers are around your throat. he squeezes just the tiniest bit and you gasp in pleasure.

“more, more, more—”

“i know, baby, i know.”

satoru likes his name best when it comes from your mouth. especially when you’re crying, your voice shaking just as violently as your thighs.

he takes the opportunity to be even rougher, his other hand toying with your clit as he coaxes your release. you’re overwhelmed, flooded with a euphoria that stimulates the whole of your body.

“fuck, y’feel so fucking good,” he grunts. with his cock wrapped in the velvet of your cunt, satoru feels like he’s on top of the fucking world. above the heavens, too, probably.

“cum inside me,” you strain. “please.”

“yeah? you want it that bad?”

he presses into you further, lifting your legs so that your ankles dangle past his shoulders.

“yes— need it so bad, fuck!”

he curses with a growl rumbling in his chest. he soaks your insides with his warmth until it leaks out of you.

this is satoru’s form of worship. the stutter of his breaths, the slight tremble of his hands as they caress your jaw. the all-consuming kiss.

it rouses something terrifying inside you. in a way, it mirrors the beast in him. gods and monsters, the two of you.

the room is filled with the sound of both of your breaths evening out, heartbeats syncing together.

“jesus christ.” you clear your throat.

“you okay?”

“i’m perfect,” you reply in a haze. even after cumming, satoru wants to lick the sleepy grin off your mouth. or maybe make you cry again.

for now, he basks in your warmth, indulges in the way you bring him back to earth after making him ascend to heaven.

“yeah, you really are.”

#gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

[saeist]

it's not living if it's not with you ── s. itoshi

synopsis: if it's meant to be, it will be genre: ex2lovers, arranged/fake dating, celebrity!au, pro!au, fluff, angst with happy ending, sharing a bed, 2nd chances, ... word count: 12.3k warnings: reader and sae aged up 22+, implied sex towards the end, reader has a hint of social anxiety/claustrophobia, i think sae is a little ooc in some scenes, lmk if i missed some notes: THERE YOU HAVE IT SAEISTS.. MY 1K SPECIAL!! THIS IS THE SUPER SECRET SAE FIC I'VE BEEN TEASING EVERYONE ABOUT FOR LIKE A WEEK NOW AND IT'S FINALLY IN FRUITION! <3 here's a lil sae brainrot to show my gratitude to you guys ^_^ fellow saeists who also consume an unhealthy(?) amount of sae content...... this fic is also dedicated to the loml my bae aeri @saerins for taking ur time of day to beta-read and to my angel baby sage @invsu as well <33 ilu guys extras: i made a playlist for this bc i am insane like that and without further a do.. sit back, relax and enjoy! lmk what u guys think either in the tags or comments bc i rlly worked hard on this for like a week and i jus couldn't stop writing! talk abt a sae earworm... ++ if u guys find theres a lot of the 1975 references.. its bc i was listening to their songs as i made this lawl .. tmi!

001.

you didn’t really put into consideration how awkward it actually was to be working on a modeling gig with your ex boyfriend.

the pay was obviously really good that’s why you even agreed to book it in the first place, especially since it was for a famous luxury brand and their fragrance line

so imagine your horror when you walk into set and see your ex posing for the cameras.

you silently hoped that it was just his solo shoot and not with you because your manager did mention that you would be having a partner for this photoshoot

the photographer greets you with a hug and compliments your outfit for the shoot. a white, sultry open neckline dress. the theme of the shoot was it was set on the beach with a sunset background

he instructs you to lay on the makeshift sand and tells you to start posing for your solo shots.

after a couple of clicks, the photographer compliments you on your professionalism on set and then calls your ex boyfriend.

“sae! time for the couple shots i told you about” the photographer calls out to sae who was on his makeup chair. your eyes widened in realization that he was, in fact, your partner for today’s shoot

you tried to look at your manager for some help but it was no use. your manager was busy talking to other people on set. you can feel your heart beating faster by the minute as sae walks closer to you

he was wearing something similar to what you were wearing. dress pants and a white oversized unbuttoned polo. his exposed toned abdomen was probably the main highlight of his outfit with it glistening under the studio lights. 

you bit your lip and looked away. sae has always been eye candy, there was no denying that. you were surprised yourself when you managed to bag him during his rookie days, but now that he was almost, if not an A list celebrity with his elite status in the world of football, you can almost say that itoshi sae was totally out of your league

you come back to your senses when the photographer claps his hands and muses how you and sae have insane chemistry that he has ever witnessed. you let out a little huff at the comment.

‘if only he knew’ you think to yourself, avoiding sae’s gaze as much as possible

the shoot starts and the photographer instructs sae to hover over you while holding the perfume bottle. sae nods and does what he’s told, he’s a professional after all. he wouldn’t let his personal feelings interfere with his work. that was the golden rule in the industry

you locked eyes with sae for the first time in years. he still had those fiery teal eyes that gets you weak in the knees each time. your eyes slowly dart from his eyes to his lips.

“keep doing that y/n!” the photographer cheers, clicking away on his camera. did you do something in your past life that you would inevitably end up in an awkward situation like this. a situation wherein you and your ex lover, in a position where you two are posing like an actual couple

your eyes flicker back from sae’s lips to his eyes again. for a second there you thought you felt a spark, a connection, an old flame that has been rekindled at that very moment.

til it all comes back to you in a flash

you forgot you hated him. you hate itoshi sae and you could’ve sworn itoshi sae hated you too. 

the bitter taste is still in your mouth after all these years. how could you forget the man who broke your little heart in two?

it was childish really. looking back at it now, where you were merely just starting out as a rookie model and sae being the same, a rookie at his profession. just two kids having a similar situation in two whole different industries. it was hard not to get entangled.

you were always known to be sae's long time lover. you were always supportive of his games. present whenever you can, sitting at the exclusive VIP section of the stadiums, wearing his number on your back; and if you weren’t able to attend due to your own schedules, you would still manage to find the time to support him. may it be posting an instagram story that you were watching him on your phone while you were getting your makeup done or wearing his jersey on the day of the game

sae was the same. he would always be seen wearing the stuff from brands you’ve modeled for. from jewelries to exclusive clothing lines, sae would always be seen wearing them, his silent way of showing support in your own craft. 

you were proud of him, and he was proud of you too.

but as all things are, good things come and go. even in the most unexpected times.

there were already rumors circulating that you and sae were ready to tie the knot, some news outlets even stating that maybe you two have gone ahead and tied the knot at some island during your secret little rendezvous. (having been caught going to santorini for more than multiple occasions)

the public has always been supportive of your relationship throughout the years. even earning the title as the nation’s sweethearts with how they’ve seen your relationship blossom from puppy love to what they call as “true love”

with the news that the nation’s sweethearts have parted ways, the public was as heartbroken as you. 

sae suddenly called it quits after almost five years of dating. it was after he has been taken under the wing of real madrid’s division A where his career as a midfielder really took off. to make matters even worse, he broke it off at the same place he claimed you as his.

since then, you’ve sworn to hate him. you’ve resented him. you felt like all those years that you two have built was nothing. you couldn’t even believe him at first when he spat out the words “we’re over” like it was nothing. 

five years, five years worth of unforgettable firsts. five fucking years to unlearn everything.

you were absolutely crushed back then. you even took a hiatus with everything going on in your life. you were a mess. you actually can’t believe sae had no remorse over this. were the five years you were together nothing for him? all those tears you two have shed, the firsts of everything, all those precious memories, were they all nothing? 

it hasn’t even been a year or so but it seemed like sae already moved on, which added more salt to your already open wound. he was flourishing with his career while all of this was going on. sae has been photographed multiple times leaving clubs with lipstick stains all over his neck. 

it stung of course. seeing him move on with his life as if he didn’t just ruin yours. that very night, you swore to yourself that you will never forgive itoshi sae for what he did.

never again would you open your heart to someone like itoshi sae.

itoshi sae, the man who broke your heart into two.

“earth to y/n?” the photographer snaps his fingers in front of you, breaking your little trance.

you apologize to the photographer, your cheeks heating up at the realization that you really got lost in your thoughts the moment you’ve met eyes with sae.

“as i was saying,” the photographer eyes you and sae, “the shoot is over. well done” he bows, motioning the people behind the scenes to clap for you and sae

almost immediately you stood up from your awkward position from sae. intentionally avoiding his hand that was held out for you to take. (you hate how he was still a gentleman to you, even after all these years)

you look around for your manager and strut towards him.

“we’re leaving. now” you say with no emotion in your voice, even walking farther ahead from your now confused manager. 

he takes a look around on what could’ve made you pissed off but sees no one but itoshi sae in the flesh. 

“but y/n, itoshi sae is here-” your manager gets cut off when there was a loud slam of a door nearby. he winces when he realizes it was you. he turns around and bows his head at the people on set.

“i apologize for y/n’s actions” 

with that, your manager runs after you.

sae could only stare at your direction with mixed feelings. a part of him was relieved that he got to see you again after all these years, yet he doesn’t understand why he was feeling off to find out that you still resented him. i mean, that was what he expected for his own actions all those years ago.

with a click of a tongue, he goes back to his own manager so they can finally go home after a long day.

you don’t even know why you were crying. tears blurring your vision as you try to find the exit out of this damned building.

you harshly wipe your tears, opening the last door to your left. you were met with the harsh, cold air of japan. you weren’t looking where you were going, barely even noticing that someone was by the door til you bumped into them.

the steel floors were making it hard to walk in your heels. so when you bumped into the said stranger, you lost your balance. 

the stranger had quick reflexes. they immediately caught you by your waist and your hands flew to their chest to keep yourself steady. you looked up at the stranger to apologize only to meet eyes again with the same teal eyes that belonged to no one other than sae fucking itoshi

you don’t know how long you two have been in this position until you see a bright flash in your peripheral vision.

you have just been papped by paparazzi with your ex boyfriend and sworn enemy, itoshi sae.

002.

the headlines in both social media, news outlets and the such were exactly how you expected it.

it was crazy. 

the general public going wild, thinking that the once famed couple were now back together after how many years.

your phone was blowing up with emails upon emails. calls from friends and relatives to confirm the news themselves that you’ve been seeing sae again. you look at your manager beside you apologetically as he receives another phone call from what you think is another e-news outlet asking if the rumors circulating were true.

you have been summoned by your company for an emergency meeting as the whole situation was getting out of hand.

that was when you realize how big of a name itoshi sae was after all these years of blocking his name on twitter.

your PR team is currently a mess. they are currently working their asses off to put out a good story for your sudden reunion with the famed midfielder. 

“how many times do i have to tell you to be careful being papped after a shoot?” the head of your PR team, pinches the bridge of their nose. clearly this wasn’t the first time around 

“i was!” you defend yourself, “i didn’t even know it was him til i looked up..” you murmured

your manager facepalms at your response. how did you not know it was sae?

“so what i’m getting here..” the head puts their glasses on the table, “you didn’t “know” that it was the itoshi sae, your partner for this specific photoshoot, the famed midfielder of real madrid, itoshi sae?” they quote, looking at you like you just grew another head

you nod in content, “exactly” you grin, putting your thumbs up. in hopes it raises the mood. (it doesn’t, unfortunately)

“y/n, i hope you know this isn’t just something we can brush under the rug. this is not the same situation with yukimiya kenyu where you two were caught being cozy in his car” 

“yuki was literally just driving me home! and we’re close friends!” you defend yourself, yet again. 

“exactly! yukimiya is a close friend! while itoshi sae is not. that’s why this is such a big deal!”

you slump back to your seat. okay, maybe they were right. this was a lot harder to get around with especially since the public knows about your past relationship.

“luckily for you, we have talked things out with itoshi sae’s management,” it was your manager’s turn to talk. he stands up from the seat beside you and walks over to your PR team’s head. they exchange glances before nodding.

“we have come up with a way that this whole issue will be over soon” your manager starts. 

as if on cue, the doors of the meeting room suddenly open. you take a look on who could be entering this sacred room this late. surely it couldn’t be more of your PR team as they were all already present in the room. 

there stood with their hand still on the doorknob is no one other than sae, with his manager right behind him.

your jaw drops as you put two and two together.

you whipped your head towards your manager and the head of your PR team in both horror and disbelief.

no, it can’t be…

“you two will now be in an arranged relationship for the meanwhile. until your situation dies down” sae’s manager finishes, taking a seat next to sae, who took the seat next to you.

you could see your manager squeeze his eyes shut, knowing where this is going. you were about to have a fit right here right now.

“WHAT?!” you let out a loud scream. the whole floor probably heard you. 

sae also winces at how ear-piercing your scream was.

you abruptly stood up from your seat, snatching your purse from the table and stomped out of the meeting room. not forgetting to slam the door shut on the way out.

immediately you called up your two closest friends, reo and yukimiya to meet you at your apartment ASAP.

003.

“so you’re telling me– us,” yukimiya pauses, looking between you, who has mascara running down your cheeks and reo, who was busy rubbing circles on your back as he hands you another tissue for you to blow your nose on, “that you are going to be in an arranged relationship with your ex, itoshi sae.. am i getting that right?” yukimiya confirms, waiting for your response

you nod before blowing your nose and throwing the now used tissue on the rising pile of tissues behind you.

“this is the worst day of my fucking life” you cried out, reaching out to reo to cry on his shoulders.

“oh, y/n” reo sighs, pulling you into his embrace as you cry your eyes out. 

you pull away from reo’s embrace, “i mean, why him, why now?!” you rambled, words getting choked up.

both reo and yukimiya could only frown. after all, even with their power, money and status, there was nothing they could do to help with your situation.

your doorbell suddenly rings, catching all three of you in surprise. who could be at your door right now?

yukimiya took the initiative of opening the door, only to be met with the eyes of the itoshi sae. barely noticing your manager behind him.

sae raises his eyebrow at the man in front of him. who was he and why was he at your apartment?

“yukimiya-san! i didn’t know you were over..” your manager sheepishly greets yuki, trying to break the growing tension between him and sae.

“who’s out there, yuki?” you croak out, trying to take a peek at the door from reo’s shoulders.

“it’s me, y/n” you hear your manager call out. you look at reo in confusion. what was your manager doing here?

gradually, you slowly stood up from your kitchen island and walked over to your front door.

now, you just expected a scolding from your manager from your little fit back at the company, that’s why he was at your place or so you thought. what you didn’t expect that you’d see itoshi sae again but this time, in your own space.

“have you lost your fucking mind?” you shot a look at your manager, who only winces as a response. 

“y/n- i can explain-“

“i made him take me here” sae speaks up for the first time. you felt your breath hitched. it’s been so long since you last talked to him, let alone heard him speak. (you’ve done everything you can and blocked every single thing related to sae. that meant interviews, news articles, you name it, you had his name and everything blocked and muted)

sae invites himself inside your apartment with your manager following suit as you stand there at your front door, stunned. 

reo is equally as shocked as you are when he sees itoshi sae casually walk to your living room as if it was his. before reo could open his mouth to say something, you come running in, fuming.

“who the fuck told you you can come inside MY house” you spat. your attitude turning a whole 180. 

sae only raises an eyebrow at you. “our team” he casually says. he then looks at your manager and cocks his head towards your direction. like he was trying to get your manager to tell you something.

“what now?!” this time it was your manager’s turn to get yelled at by you. he winces again before checking for something in his ipad.

“since you um.. walked out at our meeting earlier today… both managements has come to terms that you and itoshi sae would be living together for the meantime”

silence fills the room, the entire apartment if we were being honest

your vision goes dark, the next thing you know and you black out.

as you slowly regain your consciousness, you hear some people talking. well, to you it sounded like they were slurring because you couldn’t really comprehend what they were saying. slowly, you open your eyes. the first person you see is a frantic reo who seemed to be fanning your face with yukimiya holding your hand

“where am i?” you grunt, feeling some dull ache on the back of your head and lower back. 

“you fainted” sae points out. staring at you who was on the ground. you sat up and stared at sae, wide eyed. “what the hell is he still doing here?!” you ask in distraught. you thought everything prior to this was all just a fever dream, or a nightmare as you’d like to call it

your manager, who was getting you a glass of water comes running to your aid. he crouches and tells you to drink up- to which you do.

“we were discussing your current situation with itoshi sae until you fainted… ” your manager starts, you choke on your water after hearing those words but thankfully didn’t start a coughing fit. you motioned your manager to continue so that you’d finally hear the end of this dreadful moment

your manager's eyes flicker between you and sae, “we’ve come up with an agreement that until the time being, itoshi sae would be living with you and you’d market yourselves as a couple. sae has already consented and agreed with the contract and your PR team as well…” he finishes, clutching his ipad close to his chest

reo, who was listening intently, felt like it was unfair for you to be in this type of situation regardless if it was an order from your company

“isn’t unfair for y/n though? she herself didn’t consent to this contract right? doesn’t this violate her own rights of code of ethics?” reo interferes, giving your manager a look. you look at reo and smiled. maybe you’ll ask him to contact the finest lawyers of japan that he knows after this

your manager was about to speak up but sae beat him to it.

“i was the one who suggested this whole setup, not their company. so technically, this isn’t “violating y/n’s rights of code of ethics” as it’s not even printed on a contract because simply, there is no contract” sae states, mocking reo’s tone of voice, giving him a side eye before turning his attention back to you. 

this time it was yukimiya who steps in. he turns to sae with his eyebrows raised. “isn’t there another way to get around this? not just by your means?” yukimiya pauses, pushing his glasses up, “i mean, why does it have to be like this where you’ll live with y/n for an issue that could be squashed with just a single article denying your relationship or involvement with y/n?”

sae sits up straight, staring yukimiya down with an icy stare. “this doesn’t concern you”

yukimiya and reo both stand up, “actually it does. y/n is our friend” reo hisses, glaring at the red head who merely just yawns and rolls his eyes.

was sae even taking this seriously? 

sae sighs, a bored expression on his face. “this is matters between me and y/n only”

finally having enough of his bullshit, you got up from the ground and walked in front of sae.

“what exactly are you planning, itoshi sae?” you narrow your eyes at him. this was the first time in years you’ve looked at him. you note how appearance wise, he hasn’t changed one bit. 

sae chuckles a bit, catching you by surprise. what’s so funny?

“drop the formalities, y/n. you know me better than everyone else in this room” he scoffs, eyeing you from head to toe.

sae won’t lie. he thinks you were still beautiful the day he left you. to him, you were always the prettiest in the room and from the way his heart raced after seeing you for the first time again in years, he knows himself that thought stayed the same.

he watches your eyes soften for a second before it goes back to your signature glare.

“actually, I don't,” you say dryly, crossing your arms. “so, tell me. what exactly are you gonna get out of this?” 

sae sighs. he doesn’t know himself either but he wasn’t just about to say that out loud. he doesn’t know what got into him all of a sudden. was it because he was curious about how you were doing? was he intrigued? did he somehow miss you all of a sudden because he saw you again?

a part of him always longed for you even after you two have gone your own separate ways. it was hard not to, considering you have spent a chunk of your lives together. not to mention, you two grew up with each other and built blossoming careers together hand in hand. 

it was only until he finally got recruited for division a of real madrid where he thought it would be best if you guys would stop what you have in order to be the best version of himself— wrong. 

he realized he fucked up that maybe that wasn’t the best option when he realized he needed you more than ever. you were his best support system. you were always there with him during the hardest times holding his hand but it was already too late. the damage had been done and it was irreversible. 

the day he broke up with you, or the day he fucked up everything was also the last time he ever saw or heard from you ever again. 

sae tried. he tried and tried and tried to reach out to you. he tried searching for your socials, your contact information, literally everything he can get his hands on. but even with his power and money in the world, it was still not enough to find you.

the only updates he had of you was the ads that were plastered all around social media and in the busy shopping districts of the cities he’s in. it was almost like a constant reminder of what he lost. 

so shocked was an understatement when you were his partner for the commercial shoot his manager had booked him for some random luxury brand. 

after all those years, he found you again.

to say the stars were on his side when you two got papped by the paparazzi is a bit selfish on sae’s end. as much as he fucking despises the paparazzi as they tend to ruin things for him, he’s quite glad that for once that they did something right.

they brought you back to him.

so sae couldn’t just let this opportunity of a lifetime slide. even if this so called “scandal” could easily just be cleared out with a simple denying of such rumor. but sae couldn’t just let this end like that. 

he wants to fix everything he broke. sae wants another chance.

“this is pointless” you deadpan, after waiting for sae to speak. he was just sitting there, staring right back at you for god knows how long that you begin to become conscious.

sae looked like he just snapped out of his train of thought as he shook his head before clearing his throat. 

“it’s a win-win situation for both of us” sae blurts, “you get more publicity out of this–”

yukimiya and reo both looked at him like he was crazy.

“excuse you— with or without you, y/n is already famous. hell, you don’t even know how many brands are waiting for her to reach back at them!”

“do you live under a rock or something? how do you not know y/n is one of the, if not the number one top model of the country?”

you were secretly thankful that you called both yukimiya and reo beforehand. not only you got an ego boost, but it gave sae a taste of your own reality that you are where you are now because he left you

a small smirk tugs on your lips when sae frowns. you watch him chew his bottom lip, a telltale sign that he was thinking of something to save his ass

“well, if you aren’t gonna get something out of this.. i have” you say, catching everyone’s attention, including your own manager.

your manager looks at you with his head tilted to the side. mouthing “what do you mean?”

“i’ll only agree to this if after this whole scandal is over, i don’t ever want to see you again” you propose to sae. it was only fair for it to end like this as one, he was the one who suggested this idea in the first place. two, you can never be too complacent with sae who apparently has no motive regarding this. this was sae we’re talking about, he’s bound to plot something and three, you can finally find the answers you’ve been yearning for after all these years. might as well use this as an opportunity to get your well deserved closure.

there was a glint of hope in sae’s eyes.

“deal”

you hear yukimiya and reo yell a bunch of lines like “seriously y/n?” but all you can focus on is sae who’s also looking right back at you.

your manager claps his hands in joy, immediately dialing your company about your decision. sae takes this time to call his own manager to probably tell him to bring his stuff in. 

did you make the right decision? you’re not too sure. only time can tell.

004. 

today was the first day of you officially “dating” sae again.

also the first day of living with sae, for the meantime

just a little after you’ve come to an agreement with sae with the set up of your rekindled “relationship”, both managements didn’t waste a single second on confirming the news that the nation’s sweethearts have gone back together

needless to say, both of your names are trending and is the current talk of the town

so your first agenda (from both PR teams) is that you both post strikingly similar instagram stories as if you were together the night prior. (in which, you two were.. force binded by a non-existent contract)

it was a good thing that you chose an apartment that had a spare guest room because god forbid you’d even dare to sleep in the same bed with your ex. 

you didn’t give sae a warning that you were already gonna post something. just a quick snap of your window, that holds the view of shibuya, with a little sunlight peeking through. you captioned it with a little “good morning indeed” with a cheeky emoji just to spice things up. 

sae, who was in the next room, was casually scrolling through instagram when he sees that you posted a new instagram story. he clicks his tongue in annoyance at the fact you didn’t even give him a heads up. quickly improvising, he took a mirror selfie from the vanity mirror that you have around in your guest bedroom. 

you started your day with making your own breakfast. not even bothering to call sae. hell, he can starve for all you care. after all, he was not your responsibility. you only agreed to do this because frankly you had no other choice from your company.

while waiting for your eggs, it didn’t take you a while to also notice that sae already posted his part of the agenda. thinking of it as nothing, you innocently clicked on his profile. his story loads and wow. resonating with your caption, good morning indeed!

sae posted a shirtless mirror selfie. he was still under the covers but made sure his torso was seen on the mirror. 

“take a screenshot, it’d last longer” sae says flatly, moving past you to your fridge. you jolt in surprise, almost dropping your phone in the process. “what the fuck!” you yell out, a hand over your chest. 

you hear sae chuckling behind you and the fridge opening

“you got all that money stocked up somewhere and yet you don’t even have groceries?” sae comments, noting your almost empty fridge. there were only some milk boxes and some of those edible collagen jellies that help you with swelling when you have early morning shoots and the such.

sae takes the last chocolate milk box you had that was hidden away at the back of your fridge

“well, my manager does it for me and i usually eat at reo’s or yukimiya’s– is that the last of my milk?!” you pried your eyes off your phone to see sae casually sipping on the last milk box you were saving

“so?”

“that’s mine” you argued, getting up from the kitchen island to snatch it from sae. you stomp over to him and tried to swipe it off his hands. unfortunately for you, sae is an athlete and that meant he had reflexes like no other. he raises his arm high just before you were able to grab the milk box from him.

“sae, give it back” you grit your teeth, standing on your tippy toes, trying or attempting to take the milk box from sae’s hold but the height difference is just something else. 

sae leans down and gets all over your face. “come on, you can do it,” he teases, eyes fixated on yours. 

this feeling almost felt too familiar. almost like a wave of nostalgia just hit you in the face. the memories you’ve been trying to suppress all coming back 

you snapped out of your little trance when you realized the position you two were in. 

“my eggs are burning” you lie, leaving sae dumbfounded. you scurry off to your stove to finish what you were cooking while sae goes and sits on your kitchen island. 

he watches you plate your breakfast and sit on the other end of the kitchen island. you actually felt him staring but chose to ignore him. the sound of his stomach grumbling breaks the awkward silence.

“where’s my breakfast?” he asks, voice small

you shrug, “i don’t know”

“you didn’t make me one?”

“why will i?” you raise a brow, happily munching on your bacon while sae could only look at you in disbelief.

later that day you two had your own schedules. he had practice and other stuff to do while you had another meeting about different commercial offers and a lunch date with reo and yukimiya just like you promised the two.

you got home later than sae. you were about to grab some water from the fridge when you notice that it was fully stocked with groceries. you can’t help but smile a little at the gesture. 

you did your usual night routine before getting comfy in bed. just before you were about to hit the hay, you don’t forget to send sae a quick message, thanking him for the groceries. 

[11:43] you: thanks for doing the groceries ig

[11:44] sae: i couldn’t just let myself starve here, can i?

you rolled your eyes at his reply. he’s still so sarcastic even after all these years

[11:45] you: whatever 🙄

[11:46] sae: i also restocked that milk you love so much. call it truce from earlier today

[11:46] you: who told you it was my favorite? 🤨

[11:47] sae: gut feeling, call it old habit

you raised a brow at his text. what did he mean by that? before you could type your reply, your phone notifies you that sae sent another message

[11:49] sae: jk. your manager told me

you didn’t realize you were holding in your breath. you let out a sigh of relief after reading his message. you were not gonna let him get under your skin. not anymore

you ended up not replying to him. instead, you shut your phone off to reflect on today’s events, hoping that this all ends soon. your phone suddenly dings again. it was a notification from sae.

[11:55] sae: i’m going to sleep now. goodnight, y/n

it’s officially been a week of living with sae and pretending to be a couple in front of the cameras and the public. to think you’d even last this long is an understandment on it’s own.  

for this day, both managements wanted you two to be seen out and about in public doing whatever you two wished to do. 

you were debating on what you two should do that won’t involve much physical contact like going out for shopping because that only meant that you two would be forced to hold hands which is something you don’t want to do for obvious reasons. you’d rather die than to be papped with sae holding hands

“what do you want to do today?” sae asks from the couch. you two were already all dressed up. intentionally matching your outits just for the sake of it. sae was wearing a maroon turtleneck with holes in them with a white long sleeve shirt underneath and some track pants? you don't question his outfit much further because why would you exert the effort to do so? 

you were wearing something similar. a maroon crop top with some leggings to match the laid back outfit of your fake boyfriend. 

“what can we do without much physical contact?” you pondered, a finger tapping on your chin. sae scoffs at your question, mumbling about what’s wrong with physical contact with him. you almost wanted to tell him “everything” but that would just start another argument today

“how about we get some coffee?” sae offers, unable to think of more activities to do in such short notice. you hum in agreement, coffee does sound good right now. you get up from the couch and grab the keys to your car

“what are you doing?” sae asked. you stop in your tracks and hold out your keys for him to see. “we’re taking my car” sae says, showing off his. 

not putting up much of a fight, you agreed. it was getting tiring driving yourself around anyway.

you two arrive at the coffee shop sae graciously let you choose in no time (by graciously, he meant that he’s good with anything you choose) you then decide on sitting by the window where you know the paparazzi will be in front at in no time to capture this date between rekindled lovers

you sit at your chosen table by the window while you wait for sae to order something for the both of you. telling him that you’re okay with whatever since this cafe was your favorite.

it didn’t take sae that long to come back with your orders. he sets the tray down and you find an abundance of sweets and pastries. you look up at him confused but he simply shrugs. he then places your drink down. you take the receipt that was hanging off the tray to read everything he has ordered.

looks like he ordered everything on the menu with the sweets and pastries, which is not surprising really. when you read what he got you however,

“you ordered me a spanish latte?” you ask, taking the drink from the table. 

sae nods, taking a sip from his own drink. “something wrong?” 

you shake your head no. you just can’t wrap your head at the fact he ordered your usual go-to drink.

“nothing, it’s just i'm surprised that you still remember what i usually order in coffee shops” you shrug, finally sipping on your drink. spanish lattes does always hit the spot for you

“do you think i have forgotten?” sae raises a brow, a slight frown forming on his lips. you rolled your eyes at his comment. 

“well, it’s been a while, don’t you think?” you retort, avoiding his hard stare. technically, it’s been almost two years since the breakup. one of you were bound to forget each other’s habits and the such. 

there was silence again after that. an awkward one at that

“let’s take our post now so we can leave” you say, taking pictures of the food in front of you while keeping sae in the frame. sae simply nods and does the same. the photo you decided to post was mostly all the food sae ordered with him in the background. you purposely cut off his head just for the thrill of it. you do tag sae in the instagram story though with the caption “coffee run” 

sae’s post was a bit different. he simply posted a candid shot of you taking pictures of the food in front of you. for captions, sae isn’t much of a caption person because he thinks they defeat the purpose of photos so instead he just adds a heart emoji with your username next to it. 

it didn’t take much for the paparazzi to find your whereabouts. just like planned, they were outside the window you two were seated in taking photos after photos. 

“do we go now?” sae asks, eyeing the amount of people that were outside the cafe. 

“yeah..” you trail off, not really expecting a whole crowd to form outside. sae must've sensed that you were tensed with the way he stands next to you when you two were leaving the coffee shop

the moment you two step foot outside, it was an absolute frenzy. the press were everywhere on your faces. asking questions from all sorts of directions that it actually made you dizzy. 

you were never one for crowded crowds. especially when they topple over each other just to take the perfect photo or get an exclusive. it was just never your cup of tea

you covered your eyes from the bright flashes that were all over your face, trying to maneuver around the paparazzi to get to sae’s car faster but the paparazzi was too much for you to handle. you instinctively leaned on sae for support as your legs start to feel wobbly. sae immediately catches on and wraps an arm around your waist securely, pushing forward against the hoarde of people in front of you guys

“get out of the fucking way!” sae barks, pushing the people in front of your faces. the group of paparazzi do make way for you guys as you finally reach sae’s car. 

sae unlocks the car and opens the passenger door for you to enter first. he shields any possible camera that was trying to capture your face with his body. even going as far as pushing them away making some of the paparazzi stumble and fall on their asses. 

once you were secured in your seat, he runs over to his side of the car and starts the car before speeding off. not wasting a single second for some short interview.

“you okay?” sae steals a glance at your slumped state, before turning his attention back to the road in front of him. 

“... yeah, just dizzy” you say meekly, rubbing your temples. “i’m gonna rest my eyes for a bit, sae” you murmur, leaning against the window before drifting off to sleep.  

sae sighs and speeds up faster so you two could get home sooner. ‘damn paparazzi’ he thinks to himself, not noticing how his knuckles have turned white with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. 

the car comes to a halt when the traffic lights beam red. sae couldn’t help but look at your state. he always knew you were bad with crowds but yet you still fulfilled your lifelong dream to be a model. he wonders who took care of you during flash mobs when you were out in the streets. 

was it your manager? was it that reo guy? or was it yukimiya aka that person he doesn’t really like. sae hates how close you are with him. sae will also never forget your scandal with him. he can still remember it like it was yesterday when the news dropped that you may or may not be in a relationship with your fellow model yukimiya kenyu after being papped being cozy inside his car. 

practice was hell that day for real madrid and sae may or may not have punctured a soccer ball out of pure rage. 

the damned light finally turns green and thankfully you were at the last street before the turn to your apartment complex.

sae parks the car and turns to take a good look at your sleeping figure. you look too peaceful to wake up. so he gets out of the car and goes to your side to pick you up bridal style. 

he gently puts one of your arms around his neck (for safe measure) and loops his under your knees to carry you. with the help of the security guards around, he presses the elevator up to your penthouse suite. 

for once in his life, sae is thankful that he was an athlete as he successfully tapped in your passcode to unlock your front door with you in his arms. when he reaches your bedroom, he gently sets you down on your bed. 

sae was about to leave to make some dinner just before you wake up but was stopped by your hand reaching for his. 

“stay..” you mumbled, tugging his arm. sae hesitates for a bit, unsure if you were actually conscious or was just sleep talking. sae watches your eyebrows furrow when you notice he still wasn’t beside you. clicking your tongue in annoyance, you tug on sae’s arm harder so he gets the hint

“okay, okay” sae hums, slowly getting in your bed. he’s unsure himself on what he should do. should he stay still, wrap an arm around you, what?

to his surprise, you were snuggling next to him. your head nestling to his chest. sae lets out a small gasp. he definitely didn’t see this coming. 

coming to a realization that no harm would be done if he wraps an arm around you, he slowly drapes his arm over your waist. sae suddenly feels like he was on top of the world, like everything suddenly made sense to sae. 

sae caresses your cheek, brushing the stray hairs from your face. 

“you still look beautiful the day i lost you..” sae whispers. he debates on stealing a kiss. he weighs out the pros and the cons and figures that it was more of a liability if you ever find out he stole a kiss from you, especially when you were asleep. that’s gonna have to be for another time. 

sae was beginning to feel sleepy. he carefully drapes the duvet across your bodies. not even a moment later, sae is now fast asleep with you in his arms

you find yourself plush against something hard and warm. you try tossing to the other side but you were being held securely around your waist. your eyes shot up, now fully awake and aware of your surroundings.

“good morning” sae rasps, his morning voice sending shivers down your spine. 

“what are you doing in my bed?” you whisper-yelled, actually genuinely surprised to see him next to you. your heart was racing, like it was about to jump out of your chest. did something happened yesterday? you couldn’t quite remember everything after leaving the coffee shop. it almost felt like a hazy dream

sae reluctantly unwraps his arm around you and scoots to the edge of the bed. you almost pout at the warmth that disappears but you internally scold yourself for thinking of such things.

“you passed out in the car and i brought you here” sae explains, now sitting up. “i’ll go make breakfast. stay put” he pats your leg before excusing himself to leave your bedroom. you lay there confused because that wasn’t enough to explain why he was quite literally sleeping next to you. 

just the mere fact that you slept next to him sent you into a frenzy. you grab your phone and immediately dialed reo

“hello?” reo answers groggily, you checked your phone for the time and it was literally 8 in the morning. 

“reo!” you hushed, trying not to catch the attention of sae “something happened yesterday!” 

“what?”

“we slept together…?” your voice going up an octave, chewing on your lip as you await for reo’s reaction

a beat of silence passes by. you thought reo may have accidentally ended the call

“YOU DID WHAT?!” reo basically screams at your ear. you had to remove your phone from your ear from the impact of reo’s shrill scream. “DON’T TELL ME YOU GOT BACK TOGETHER WITH HIM IN JUST A WEEK’S NOTICE—”

“NOT IN THAT WAY, DIPSHIT” you say abruptly, cutting reo off. “i mean like.. we just slept in the same bed after yesterday’s turn of events…” you trail off, trying to remember every significant detail that eventually lead up to you and sae ultimately sleeping with each other.

“my guess is with the paparazzi. i just saw the photos” reo says, typing away on his keyboard. “not gonna lie y/n, you and sae do make a good couple” he adds, giggling

you huff over the phone, earning a hefty laugh from the other end. 

“talk to him. clearly you need it” reo advices. it was like he knows where this was going. “ i gotta go for now, y/n. i’ll call you back later. duty calls. ciao!” reo ends the call before you could even say something. 

you threw your phone on the other side of the bed, groaning as you put your head in your hands. what was happening to you

there was a faint knock on your door, probably sae was gonna tell you that breakfast was ready but to your surprise, he brought the breakfast to you.. in bed.

sae walks in with a little bed tray that you didn’t even know you owned filled with some breakfast. 

“was all this necessary?” you say in disbelief. sae simply shrugs and sits by the foot of your bed.

“i contacted your manager about your state and he says he’ll be coming over to check up on you later” he notes, typing away on his phone with one hand. sae turns to you and motions for you to start digging in. “c’mon, eat up” 

you feel your face heat up at his extravagant gestures. he was a man of service after all. even during your relationship, sae wasn’t the type to be vocal about his love for you. it was mostly through actions may it be subtle or not. you can feel the love with the way he does everything for you.

with a small smile, you start to eat the breakfast he made. 

“sae,” you call. he looks up from his phone, a confused look on his face. 

“need something?”

“come here” you motioned for him to scoot closer to you. to which he happily obliges. he is now sitting right in front of you. 

he watches you cut a piece of your pancake and stabbed it with your fork before holding it up for him.

“here,” you say sheepishly, not even looking at sae in the eye. sae looked at you like you just lost your mind. 

“can’t let you not eat your own cooking..” you mumbled, feeling your face burn in both embarrassment or something you can’t pinpoint. with a chuckle, he takes the fork from you. unintentionally brushing your hands together.

in an instant, you snatch your hand back as he quietly eats the pancake you’ve given him.

things are changing between you and sae and you’re not sure if you like it.

005.

it’s been a few days since the whole ordeal with you and sae in bed together. your management gave you guys a few days off just to keep things at bay with the paparazzi after the whole fiasco of you almost fainting because of the sea of paparazzi outside trying to take photos. 

your manager did end up checking up on you that day just like sae has mentioned. you told him off that you were fine and just needed more resting before you can resume with your work. he reluctantly agrees and goes ahead and reports your status with your company.

reo and yukimiya also came over for the past few days. just to check things up with you after your pictures were published for the public. you had a talk with your two closest friends about your current situation with sae. 

yukimiya was a bit unsure for you while reo advised that they’ll be there with you for every decision you make. he also opted that you two should have an open forum about each other’s whereabouts since the break up. clearly you still had unanswered questions.

sae was out again for his daily practice. although he did tell you that he’d be back around the afternoon. 

you take this opportunity of being alone to actually think about everything for the past week. 

this few weeks has been a whole rollercoaster. not only you’ve been reunited with your ex, you had to be in a “fake” relationship with him again for the media, and now it’s like you and sae were back to your old routines all those years ago. 

a part of you does miss being able to call sae as yours, not just for the sake of the cameras but just because you really do love him and you want to be with him, but this time for real. yet, another part of you is scared that maybe there’s a catch to this. maybe in the end sae was just using you for his own sake. 

you made a promise to yourself that you were not gonna have him play with your heart like that anymore. not again, never again.

but here you are, willing to take the same risk again. the things you are willing to do just to call him yours. 

because at the end of the day, it will always be itoshi sae.

no one else has your heart the way sae has it. 

you barely notice that sae has arrived back from practice til he was waving a hand in front of your face.

“y/n” he jabs a finger at the side of your head, an amused look on his face. “what are you thinking about?” sae hums, plopping down on the couch next to you. 

“nothing much, just about life”you hissed, clutching the spot he just poked you. you leaned back on the couch, stealing a glance at sae but you made eye contact instead. immediately you looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up.

sae snickers next to you, a small smile on his face as he takes a good look at you. 

“having a midlife crisis at your young age?” sae pokes your sides making you jump. you let out a little yelp, causing sae to smirk. 

“don’t even think about it sae itoshi— AH!” you hold your hands out in defense mode. you know that devilish look on sae’s face. sae’s fingers reach your sides before you could even finish your menacing (not) threat. 

your laughter fills the living room. 

oh how sae missed this. how he missed coming home from practice and to have you wait for him. how sae missed you.

sae stops tickling you to let you catch your breath. barely even noticing the position you two were in. he was on top of you, hands on each side of your head. your cheeks painted red, chest rising rapidly as you try to control your breathing. 

“can i kiss–” 

the front door slams open to reveal reo and yukimiya in tow with some food.

“y/n! we brought you some food!” reo happily chirps, setting the food down on your kitchen counter. sae’s eyes immediately widen and rushes to get off of you. he stumbles and falls on the floor, just right in front of reo’s feet.

reo and sae make eye contact. reo awkwardly smiles at the now embarrassed sae.

but sae being sae, he brushed it off like he was in the middle of push ups. 

“... and 50. 50 push ups done” sae puffs, pushing himself off the ground, pretending to wipe the non existent sweat on his forehead and ushers away to his room. not missing reo’s comment before he slams the door shut.

“i’m gonna just pretend i didn’t see you fall right in front of me” reo cackles, wiping a tear from his eye. “anyway y/n, we got you some food. i forgot that athlete was living with you sooo.. it’s up to you to give his share” reo shows you the amount of food he just got you.

yukimiya giggles behind him. he pulls reo to the side before giving you his infamous smirk

“reo, we gotta go now” yukimiya smiles slyly at you. he takes a good look at your ruffled shirt, flushed cheeks and messy hair. 

“what? we just got here!” reo complains, looking back at yukimiya, who points out your current state. he then whispers something to reo that you obviously can’t hear. you stand there with your arms crossed, eyebrows raised as you wait for your two best friends to fill you in

“i’m literally right here” you rolled your eyes.

“oh!” reo gasps, eyes wide as he seems to put two and two together. he covers his mouth like he just witnessed something scandalous. 

you were about to open your mouth to say protest against what allegations yukimiya has of you but both reo and yukimiya bolt out the door. yelling about how they were sorry for disturbing something while cackling. 

“those bitches..” you muttered, shaking your head. you walk over to the kitchen to go through what reo just got you. of course it was his favorite steak with some side dishes. 

“are they gone?” you hear sae call out from his room, his head poking out the door. 

you laugh, “yeah. you can come out now” 

you hear the door open and sae comes walking in the kitchen with nothing but sweatpants. you let out a squeak as your hands fly to your eyes, covering them from seeing sae’s half naked body.

sae scoffs at your reaction. “you’re acting like you aren’t used to it”

“was used to it” you correct him. sae’s mood drops a bit. you awkwardly fiddle with the hem of the plastic. taking out the plastic containers to at least lift up the now sour atmosphere. 

sae looks at the meals you’ve settled down on the counter. “from reo?” he asks, going ahead and taking out some chopsticks. 

he must be starving from coming home after practice.

you slid the plastic container that held reo’s favorite steak to sae. his eye widens and shakes his head. he pushes it back to you. it becomes a silent tug of war. sae ended up losing because you were starting to get upset and he can tell by the way your lips are jutted out and you were pushing harder, causing some of the sauce to spill out.

“okay, damn..” sae mutters, accepting his defeat. you let out a victory cheer by dancing a little in your seat. sae couldn’t help but smile. now here you were, watching him chomp down the food reo initially got for you.

“let’s head out somewhere” sae says, poking you with his chopsticks. you swat his hands away as you scowl at him. going out all of a sudden after he just ate?

“where are we going?”

“places” 

you look up at him unsure. you didn’t really want to go anywhere this week knowing that paparazzi might be up on your asses again. you weren’t gonna risk your health again for just some dumb post

“but we’re on break with posting though” you protest. was sae really serious about heading out? 

sae pouts and looks at you with pleading eyes. something he only pulls when he really wants to do something or get his way. something you couldn’t resist. you guessed old habits really die hard

“please?” 

you avert your gaze elsewhere because those teal eyes are only trouble for you. you hear sae sigh beside you and you realized that was your last straw.

“fine”

you look back at sae who had a small smile on his face. his face screaming “i know you still can’t resist me” and quite frankly you wanted to punch the living daylights out of his smug face. 

“i’m not gonna get dressed up or anything though. just a hoodie and a hat to keep our identities hidden” you say, getting up from the barstool to head over to your room to get an oversized hoodie and your hat.

“wasn’t counting on it” sae says, humming to himself that he got you to agree.

it didn’t take long for you guys to get moving. you two were now on your way to wherever sae was taking you. even if you kept asking where you two were going, sae simply shushes you and tells you to just sit back and relax

you were leaning towards the window, watching the city skies fade as you two drive aimlessly around the city. your phone connected to his aux, softly playing some tunes in the background.

your eyes peer over to sae who had one hand on the steering wheel, while the other was used to prop himself up against the window. you find yourself smiling at the memories going back to you. 

the old late night drives with sae just to clear your minds. 

the route sae was taking you felt awfully familiar. you sit up straight and looked outside to see that you were going up a familiar hill. you snap your head towards sae. sae catches your stare and winks at your direction.

the car eventually comes to a stop. sae silently turns off the car and gets out with you following behind him. there you realize where he took you. sae took you back to your favorite spot to get away from it all. the hilltop where you can get a whole view of the ever so busy city of shibuya. 

the same place sae asked you to be his,

the same place sae broke things off with you,

“what are we doing here, sae?” you ask, sitting on top of the hood of his car. sae follows suit. he sits next to you, observing the view in front of him.

“to unwind” he says flatly, putting his hood on. you can’t help but look at him. what did he mean by that?

“you looked pretty occupied today, so i just thought i’d bring you here-”

you furrowed your brows, “then why here?”

sae stays silent. the sound of the city filling your ears. you can’t help but think that it was now or never. it was the perfect time to get things across. for your own peace of mind, and for the sake of it all. 

it was silent between you and sae all of a sudden. you almost wanted to laugh at how ironic it is that you’d end up in this place again for the third time in a row with the same person. 

‘how nostalgic’ you think to yourself. you get up from the hood of the car and walked towards the wooden fence. just to get a clearer view and to get some air that you so desperately needed before talking to sae. 

“you know, this reminds me of the time you took me up here for the first time,” you start, kicking the rocks just by your feet. sae’s ears perk up at the sudden mention of the memory.

“i was so happy that day. to think we’d last for over five years. i was the happiest when i was with you, sae” you continued, smiling to yourself as you recalled everything.

sae can’t help but feel there’s more to what you’re saying. he can’t help but anticipate the bomb that you were about to drop.

“til one day, you brought me out here again. this time, to break up” you turn around to face sae who had an expression you can’t comprehend. his hands were stuffed inside the pockets of his hoodie

“you broke me that day, sae” you breathe out, looking up at the moon. “and to think not even two weeks later i see you with someone else” you let out a laugh. to sae it sounded forced. 

“i hate you, sae itoshi” you finally look at him again, sae averts from your hard gaze. 

“i hate how you took all my firsts, i hate how you talk to me with that voice, i hate how i know your morning routine better than anyone else, i hate how you always opt to cook because you know i suck at cooking, i hate how you know me like the back of your hand..” you list off, with every list you say, you take a step forward. 

“i hate how even after all these years, even after you hurt me, even how you broke me to pieces, i hate how i can’t ever find myself to hate you” you finish. a teardrop running down your cheeks. 

“i hate how i still love you..” your voice was shaky. your hands were trembling, here you were, confessing your heart to the guy who initially broke it. 

you broke your promise to yourself. 

with a deep sigh, you fixed your composure. you harshly wipe the tears that were running down your cheeks before turning your back on sae again to face the city you live in. 

“i just have a question for you, sae…” you take a deep breath. finally. you were gonna get the answers to your questions. those times you’ve doubted yourself, those sleepless nights wondering where it all went wrong, nights where you ask yourself if you were ever enough for sae.. 

you were finally gonna get your well deserved answers. 

“why? what did i do wrong? was i not enough for you?” 

sae silently moves towards you. he pulls your head to his chest where you freely the tears fall. 

you push him off of you, you were not gonna let yourself be fooled much longer.  

“was it worth it, sae? was throwing away our years together worth it?” you seethed, tears pricking your eyes.

sae’s eyes widened, “i–”

“you know sae, even if i was in a room with all the people i love the most. i’d still choose you and you all over again. i will always choose you, sae” you cut him off, trembling. words shaking as you are basically spilling your heart to the guy who broke it into a million pieces.

sae’s heart breaks at the scene before him. it was too late for him to realize the damage he has done to you. for you to act like this.

“that’s why i agreed to be in this fake relationship with you. i wanted to find out why you did this to me, to us” you admit, tears now fully flowing. “i just..” you weren’t able to finish what you were trying to sae as you sob in front of sae.

“why sae?.. just, why?”

you barely notice sae approaching. the next thing you knew, he pulls your head to his chest. 

“shh… let it out” he says, his free arm rubbing your back as you cry your heart out. finally, after all those years, it felt good to release everything. like a million bricks has been lifted off your shoulders. 

sae pulls away, cupping your cheeks as he wipes the tears pouring down your cheeks with his thumb. his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips. 

“don’t look at me like that, sae..” you say in a low voice, almost like a whisper. peering away from sae’s eyes. 

sae slowly leans in and before he knows it his lips are just ghosting over yours. without a second, sae smashes your lips together.

your eyes widened. you wanted to push him away. you put your hands on his chest ready to push him away, but something in you is stopping you from doing so. 

how you missed this. how you missed sae

how sae missed this. how sae missed you

you pull apart, catching your breath. you look up at sae to see him crying too. he cups your cheeks, caressing them with his thumb.

“i’m sorry” was all he could say. he puts his forehead against yours, teal eyes fixated on yours. you can tell with his eyes that he was sincere. sae was also shaking as he holds you, his whole body language screaming guilt.

“i was young and stupid. i thought i’d be better off without you but i realized that i wasn’t. it was too late by then.” he explains, looking down at your feet instead of meeting your eyes.

you put your hand over his, squeezing them. relishing in the moment of two ex lovers putting the past behind them.

“i tried reaching out for you, you know?” sae brings up, laughing to himself at how stupid he sounded. “but knowing you, i knew you’d probably act like you never existed. i had to find out the hard way” he scoffs at the end. 

“eventually, the stars brought me to you again” sae finally looks at you in the eye. “i took that as a chance to try and redeem myself. i think it failed though,” sae admits sheepishly, “i was persistent. i wanted you back and i did everything i can just to keep you with me” 

you listen to sae stumble with his words. he’s trying. he’s actually proving that he was genuinely sorry for everything.

“i never stopped loving you, y/n” sae admits with a sad smile, “i never did” 

you tear up again at his confession. because frankly, you were the same. 

sae opens his mouth to say something but instead, you crash your lips against his. sae doesn’t move for a second but relaxes as soon as he realizes what was going on. he instantly wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close as he can. 

“i love you,” 

“i love you too,”

you two find yourselves basking under the moonlight once again. fixing and treating each other’s wounds as you two try again. this time you two are sure that whatever you two have planned for each other, you two will make it right. 

006.

the sound of an alarm blaring through the room wakes you up from your sleep. you feel some shuffling behind you and suddenly the room turns quiet again.

“did i wake you?” you hear sae’s morning voice ring through your ears, sending a shiver down your spine. you let out a small whine, nodding your head yes. 

sae chuckles, and tightens his hold around your body under the covers. “good morning to you too, baby” he kisses your cheek. 

you open one eye before twisting your body around to face him. 

“morning..” you yawn, leaving a trail of kisses from his jaw to his adam’s apple.

“still didn’t get enough from last night, hm?” sae teases, rubbing circles on your hips. you feel your cheeks heat up. you slapped his chest before turning your back on him again. 

“our managers will kill us if we’re late” you remind him of your schedules for the day. you sit up, slipping on his shirt that was lying on the floor, recalling last night’s events. you looked at yourself from the mirror to see some love bites all over your neck up to your chest. a gentle reminder that you were now his again.

“they can wait,” sae murmurs, slipping his hands under your (his) shirt. you let out a giggle before pushing his hands off of you. 

“sae come on!” you tug on his arm as you two head out to your bathroom. 

after what seems like an hour or so due to sae’s rowdy hands. you two finally arrive at the red carpet of the luxury brand you two have modeled for. 

the screams of fans fills your ears as you wait in of the car and onto the red carpet where a line of reporters were waiting. 

sae, being the gentleman he is and a marketing genius, he obviously makes a scene for your entrances. he gets out of the car first and holds out his hand for you to take. the audience goes crazy as you two make your entrance. 

“sae, y/n! over here!” you hear a bunch of reporters yell out. lights, and flashes all around. 

you and sae stop at the first reporter on the line. he greets you guys with a smile before starting his short interview. it was the usual questions about the brand and you guys feel about being the new faces of it.

“well, clearly they have a good eye for casting both y/n and i as the new faces for their brand” sae answers for the both of you, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. 

the interviewer gushes at how cool his answer was and proceeds to ask you another question.

“my, my, my, miss y/n. you look lovely as usual but i can’t help but wonder, what does it feel like to be back together with sae itoshi?” he asks, intrigued, his microphone on your face. 

you look at sae for approval and he simply smiles and motions for you to say whatever you want to say. 

“well, it still shocks me til this day that i got back together with sae” you joked, making the interviewer laugh at your response and sae who fakes being offended. you laugh at his reaction before answering seriously, 

“but seriously. i guess it’s true that if it’s meant to be, it will be” you smile, showing off sae in front of the camera to which the interviewer loves.

“what an answer from, y/n! well you heard it here first folks!” the interviewer beams in front of the camera, “i wish you two never ending happiness. thank you for letting me interview you guys!” he waves off, finding another celebrity to interview. 

you and sae both smile and wave him goodbye as you two continue along the red carpet.

“do you really mean that?” you hear sae ask beside you. he was busy waving for the cameras. you let out a little giggle before waving around for the paparazzi and cameras around. 

“mean what?”

“what you said about if it’s meant to be, it will be” he quotes you, tucking a stray hair behind your ear sending the audience and the paparazzi in a frenzy again. 

“it happened to us, didn’t it?” you smile, motioning to your current situation. 

sae was yours again, and you are his. 

just how it should be. 

bonus!

you didn't consider how awkward it actually was to be working on another modeling gig with your boyfriend.

especially when the poses instructed by the photographer and way too intimate to be imitated in a semi-public setting for your liking.

“what are you being stiff for?” sae holds in his laugh, seeing how motionless your poses are with him. “it’s awkward when theres people around..” you say through gritted teeth, praying to the gods that this shoot will finally be over

“it’s not this awkward when we do this alone though..” sae seductively whispers, lowering his head just right at the shell of your ear.

the photographer squeals in joy at the amount of shots he got from that pose alone.

you feel your face burn up in embarrassment.

“sae!” 

#blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #bllk imagines #bllk x reader #sae imagines #sae x reader #sae itoshi imagines #sae itoshi x reader #saeved

[amakumos]

kiss and cry — yang jungwon.

synopsis. At the age of 22, Yang Jungwon wants to retire. The ice, which was what he considered his second home, does not seem as welcoming as it used to be. Figure skating is no longer fun - the sport that he devoted his entire childhood to seems more of a chore, rather than a passion. He claims that this season will be his last as a competitive figure skater - that is, until he meets you, who somehow makes him fall in love with the ice (and you) again.

genre. fluff, slight angst, friends to lovers, slowburn (?), figure skating au

pairing. figure skater! jungwon x figure skater fem! reader

warnings. swearing, mentions of injury, coaching abuse and unhealthy training habits, jungwon is 22, reader is 21, and both compete for south korea. set during the 2025/2026 figure skating season. major character retirement (wait and find out)

word count. 22k

author's note. gosh. am i surprised that the most i've ever written is a figure skating fic? no, not particularly. i was watching so many of yuzuru hanyu's programs while writing this and oh god. only fanyus will understand the immense impact the beat drop into the chsq has in pyc seimei. fucking hell that's powerful. anyways, this fic is my baby and i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it ^_^ here's a playlist u can listen to while reading if you'd like and feel free to lmk what u think!

ONE. negative (goe.)

Where is home to Yang Jungwon?

Jungwon thinks that he has two.

First, he would obviously say his apartment. The plush couch, the comfort of his own bed, and sunlight peeking through the curtains in the morning – Jungwon is comfortable when he is home. 

His second home, albeit a little bit unconventional – is the ice skating rink. His blades gliding against the smooth ice, cool air hitting his face as he skates, the chatter of his training partners ringing in his ears when he’s trying to focus that he finds annoying when he’s trying to focus. 

But his second home seems a little less welcoming and comfortable lately. The passion that he once held for the sport that he loved seems to be diminishing day by day, like a fire that’s almost been put out. 

Jungwon devoted his entire life to this sport. Maybe a little too much of it, even. 

His childhood was seemingly swept away by the ice. Instead of running around the playground, making friends with other children his age, Jungwon was spending hours of his day jumping and spinning, wearing boots with blades on them.

At one point, even falling over on a jump that he’d have to repeat for hours seemed like something he could use as determination. I’ll be able to do it the next time I jump it, was his thought. 

But now, when he falls, all he feels is that he wants to quit. 

Jungwon knows that if he gave up that easily when he was younger, he wouldn’t even be half the figure skater he was today. Standing on top of that podium didn’t bring him the same amount of joy as when he stood there a couple years ago. A small smile would grace his lips, showing courtesy – but deep inside, Jungwon could only describe the feeling he felt as numbness. 

Because what did all these medals truly mean to him? Success brought him joy a couple years ago, but now it only puts pressure on him. 

Pressure to do better. Pressure to get the scores that he deserved. Pressure to show the other skaters that he was better. 

Figure skating is no longer fun for Yang Jungwon. 

The sport feels draining – as if every minute spent skating on that sheet of ice sucked all the energy out of him. The movements that he did with such vigour just a couple years ago now seem sloppy to him, even if they aren’t to the audience. His limbs move around robotically, without elegance or gracefulness. 

Yang Jungwon feels like a robot. 

Programmed to do this quad lutz at a certain moment. Programmed to execute the hydroblade to perfection a few seconds later. Even programmed to smile brightly, holding up the gold medal while standing at the top of the podium when he doesn’t feel a single emotion at all. 

So, Jungwon thinks it’s time to hang up his skates. 

Yes, 22 might be a little too early to end his career as a competitive figure skater, but Jungwon is done. He’s tired of the ice, which is something that he never thought he’d say, or even think. The ice doesn’t bring him joy, and competitions don’t bring the adrenaline and thrill that he’d used to feel. Winning doesn’t make him feel pride. Instead, he feels burdened. 

“Next season will be my last season as a competitive figure skater,” he tells his coach, Irene. 

Irene isn’t shocked. But she’s strongly against Jungwon’s decision. Jungwon knew she’d react like this. 

“You’re so young, Jungwon! You still have a couple of years to go – you can make it to the next Olympics too. You’ll be 26 then, and you can… you know, retire after skating at the biggest stage.” 

“I will be skating at the biggest stage next year, if I make it into the Olympic team. Then, I will be retiring at the biggest stage.” Jungwon tells her, lacing up his skates. Even tying the laces feels frustrating – and Jungwon knows that he truly does not want to do this anymore. 

“But you have to give a reason, Jungwon. I know you’re tired, and you lack passion for skating, but why don’t you just take a break? Maybe you’ll regain your motivation, regain your passion for the sport. You’re already one of the greats – you could be even greater.” 

Irene would consider Jungwon to be her star pupil. He’s stuck with her ever since he swapped coaches when he was 8 – and he’s never spoken a word about wanting to be coached by anyone else. In fact, Jungwon was one of Irene’s first students after she herself retired from competition. Jungwon was her first student to podium internationally, first student to land a quad in competition, and first student to make it to the Olympics in 2022, back when Jungwon was 18. 

He placed 6th. Not bad, for his first ever Olympics. 

Jungwon remembers the day when he was called up to the South Korean Olympic team. All he felt was pride. On every young athlete’s bucket list, being able to compete in the Olympics was at the top of that list, and Jungwon was no exception. He remembers being an emotional wreck, crumpling into tears of joy. The Olympics was a figure skater’s biggest stage. Skating on Olympic ice seemed unreal, until Jungwon found out that he would be doing exactly that. 

Jungwon wants to feel the exact feeling he felt when he skated on Olympic ice. He wants to feel pride, passion, and joy – not emptiness. Jungwon knew that he was competing with the best of the best, and a medal at the Olympics would be incredible, but Jungwon just wanted to skate. The Olympics seemed to be like a mark for him – he’s made it. He’s skated at the biggest stage for an athlete, and no matter the result, he would be grateful and happy that he was able to compete on Olympic ice. 

4 years ago, Jungwon just wanted to skate. 

Now, Jungwon wants to leave the ice behind. 

You could be even greater. Irene’s words have no impact on Jungwon. He doesn’t think he has any desire to become greater. If anything, Jungwon just wants to learn how to love this sport again – but he doesn’t think that he’ll be able to. 

“That’s the problem, Irene. I don’t want to be greater anymore. I’m tired of this. I have no passion in what I do – why would I continue doing something that I don’t love?” 

“Jungwon–”

“I don’t think anything can change my mind, Irene. I’m really done,” he sighs. Jungwon gives his coach a small, sad smile. “So… let’s make the next season great, hmm? I’ll go out with a bang.” 

Irene gives Jungwon a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Okay.” 

“I have music ideas already,” Jungwon says, and Irene nods. “Tell me what you have in mind, and we can go through it with Taemin.”

“I was thinking for the short program, A Walk In The Skies by Joe Hisaishi. From the Howl’s Moving Castle soundtrack, and for the free, World Dreams. Also by Joe Hisaishi. A couple fans from a few years back told me that they’d like to see me skate to those songs, so… I’ve decided I will. They gave me a list of other options, but… I like these two the best.” 

“Okay. I’ll talk with Taemin about them.” Irene says, and Jungwon notices the look on his coach’s face. He knows that she’s not happy with his decision, because Irene’s never really liked people who give up. Jungwon thinks that to her, his decision seems to be as if he’s saying that he’s giving up. 

In one way, he is. But now that Jungwon thinks about it, does he have any other goals in this sport? He’s won Nationals. He’s won Grand Prix Final. He’s won Four Continents. He’s won Worlds. He’s been to the Olympics. The one thing he hasn’t done is win an Olympic medal, and maybe he’ll be able to do it next season. But Jungwon thinks that he’s checked off most of the boxes on his figure skating career goal list, and combined with the fact that he’s simply got no love for the sport left, he thinks hanging up his skates is the best idea. 

He gives Irene an apologetic look, even though he feels like he doesn’t really have to apologise for anything. He then makes his way onto the rink, skating a few laps around to warm up. 

He skates his program from last season as practice, first jumping a quad salchow that he lands cleanly. The sound of the blades scratching the surface of the ice no longer brings him comfort, but Jungwon continues skating around the rink as he enters into a back counter triple axel, landing it cleanly as well. 

Jungwon executes the rest of the elements well, with no falls or underrotations on his jumps. He presses his lips into a thin line when he finishes skating his program, putting his hands on his hips as he sighs. 

“That was good.” Irene said. “Gold medal worthy.” 

“Thanks.” Jungwon replies. He would usually feel nothing but joy when Irene would compliment his skating like that. 

But Jungwon finds that a gold medal is something he does not desire anymore. 

TWO. triple double camel spin axel 

The off-season is great. 

The pressure of competition is gone, and you’re able to rest without intense preparation and training for a couple weeks before you’re back to your usual routine. 

You do decide to head to the rink today though, just so you can get in some skating time with your new coach. 

Irene Bae was your idol growing up. When you saw her skate at the Olympics from the comfort of your own home at the age of 4, you knew that you wanted to be like her. Graceful and elegant, yet powerful and strong on the ice.

Your parents enrolled you in skating classes at the age of 3, and it was like the ice was practically calling your name. Your first coach, Hyuna, had told your parents that you had talent — and encouraged them to let you continue skating. 

And so you did. As the years went by, what your first coach said proved to be true — you did have talent. You won medal after medal, and you were said to be a rising star. 

So when the opportunity arose for you to be coached by none other than your idol, you of course had to take it. 

When she complimented you on your skating, you nearly screamed. Having the person you’ve admired for your whole life telling you that you were doing great gave you a huge confidence boost — and you’d like to think that her words encouraged you and made you do even better than you usually did during your free skate at Worlds.

Being coached by the Irene Bae seemed surreal. She won one silver, one bronze medal at the Olympics, was a 2 time worlds winner and a six-time national champion. She was even known for being an incredible coach, coaching skaters like Yang Jungwon, and Kim Jiwon — who would now be your training mates.

You feel nothing but excitement when you enter the Taereung International Skating Rink, and you hear the sound of blades across ice that brings a smile to your lips. You see Irene, standing rinkside with her arms crossed, and skating on the rink, is Yang Jungwon.

Yang Jungwon’s made quite a name for himself in the last few years. 6th at the 2022 Olympics, a great finish for someone who was only 18 at the time. He also just won Worlds, and was a five-time national champion. 

Yang Jungwon is an incredible skater. His movements on the ice are as fluid and soft as water, but when he jumps, he’s incredibly powerful, like a rocket taking off. You’ve seen many people say that Jungwon’s one of the few ‘complete skaters’ — those who can combine artistry with jumping seem to be extremely rare nowadays. 

He’s one of those skaters that can get you mesmerised the second he steps onto the ice, and when he finishes his program, loud applause resounds throughout the arena, with tons of people throwing cat plushies onto the ice.

Jungwon is incredibly talented. Thinking about the fact that you two are going to be training mates brings a smile to your face — all the conversations you’ve had with Jungwon went quite well. You remember his pleasant voice and his kind smile, the one where his eyes crinkle into crescents and could make anyone swoon. 

You make your way over to Irene, who turns her head and greets you with a kind smile when she sees you. “(Name)!” she beams, wrapping you in a hug. “Nice to see you.” 

“It’s nice to see you too, Irene!” you say, and she smiles at you. “I’m excited to be working with you.” she tells you, and her words just fill you up with joy.

“Thank you so much,” you beam. “I’m excited to be coached by you.” A smile graces Irene’s lips at your words. “Jungwon’s on the ice right now, with Taemin. He’s just learning the last part of his choreography for his short program for next season.” she tells you, and you nod.

“Jiwon’s gone for lunch break, and Eunchae and Jongseob should be somewhere around here… you can go meet with them and say hi later.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“Irene!” Taemin, the choreographer, calls out to her. “Jungwon’s got this. He’ll absolutely kill it.” 

You notice how Irene and Taemin’s smiles seem wider than Jungwon’s when Taemin says that. The smile plastered on Jungwon’s lips barely reaches his eyes. 

“Why don’t you go lace up your skates? You and Jungwon can share the rink.” Irene suggests to you, and you nod. You find a seat, pulling out your skates from your skate bag as you take your regular sports shoes off, slipping into your skating boots. You tie the laces incredibly quickly — after all, you have been doing this for years.

You take off your skate guards, leaving them on the bench as you skate onto the rink, skating laps to warm yourself up as you put your gloves on. 

Somewhere along the way, you find yourself accompanied by Jungwon, who catches up to you. “Hey,” he says. “Heard that Irene’s coaching you now.” 

“Yeah,” you beam. “We’ll be training mates from now on, huh?” you say, and Jungwon nods. “Saw you practicing your short program for next season… you’ve started quite early. Howl’s Moving Castle soundtrack?” 

“Mhm,” Jungwon says. “I like to get started earlier, so I’m more familiar with it when it’s time to compete. Do you have any ideas for the music you might skate to?” 

“Oh, I’ve got no idea. My friend told me to skate to Bolero, though.” you say, and you see Jungwon grimace at your words. You let out a loud laugh that makes Jungwon chuckle. “Bolero? Really?” he asks.

“Riki knows nothing about figure skating, but I think he goes on Twitter to find what music people hate seeing skaters skate to the most… Bolero is definitely one of them, which is probably why he recommended it to me.” you laugh. “Once he even asked me if I could do a ‘triple double camel spin axel’. Like what in the world is that?” 

Your words make Jungwon burst into laughter, and you think it’s one of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard.

“A triple double camel spin axel? Your friend might just have invented a new jump.” he quips, and you nod. “Are you ready for the Olympics next year?” he asks you, and you shake your head.

“Who says I’ll make it?” 

“Of course you’ll make it. Your skating’s great.” Jungwon says, and you thank him. “You’ll definitely make it. To next year and the one after. You’ll probably make it to the one in 2034 too.” 

“Hah, that’s funny. But no, I won’t be making it to the 2030 or the 2034 one. It’s probably nice to think about, though.” Jungwon replies. 

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “What? Why? I mean... maybe 2034 is a bit of a stretch, but surely the 2030 one.” 

“I’m retiring after this season.” 

Your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets at his words. Yang Jungwon was going to retire? At the age of 22? Was he joking? 

You almost can’t believe it.

“What? Why?” 

“I don’t like skating anymore.” he hums, and he says it so casually. “It’s more of a chore now, rather than something I love. I guess I fell out of love with the ice.”

You can somewhat understand how he feels. You had burnout too, but you never got to the point where you wanted to quit. You just wanted to take a break, to refresh your mind and to take care of your health and body. 

But Jungwon sounds like he’s determined to quit. As if nothing will get him to change his mind.

“What would it take for you to fall back in love with it?” you ask.

Jungwon shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t think anything would be able to change my mind at this point. Skating is just so incredibly… draining. I want to enjoy it as much as I used to, but I just don’t think I can continue competing.” 

He sounds like he’s truly given up hope on finding love for the sport again, and it makes your heart ache. Yang Jungwon is undoubtedly one of the best figure skaters you’ve ever seen, and to see him possibly end his career because he just simply ran out of love for the sport saddens you. 

And for some reason, you want to try and get him to fall back in love with the ice again. 

So with a sudden burst of confidence and determination, you decide to ask him: “Are you free any time next week?” 

Jungwon looks at you, puzzled. “Yes?”

“I’m going to try and get you to fall back in love with the ice.”

“(Name), I’ve made up my mind—” 

“That’s fine. I just want you to enjoy skating again. No competition, just having fun. You know, I was in the audience the day you won the Grand Prix final two years ago. You looked so, so, incredibly happy — I want you to feel the same feeling you felt when you were skating on that ice.” 

Jungwon looks at you hesitantly. “You’d do that for me?” 

You nod. “We can get to know each other better too. What do you say?” 

Jungwon pauses for a moment to think. 

“Sure.”

You beam at him. “Cool. I’ll give you my number after practice and we can make arrangements.” 

Jungwon nods, and you two end your conversation there, focusing on training instead. 

As you land a clean triple salchow-triple toeloop on the ice, you add a new goal to your bucket list.

Get Yang Jungwon to fall in love with figure skating again.

THREE. seal skating aid

You meet up with Jungwon two days later at a public skating rink with a bright smile on your face. 

He looks confused when he sees the amount of people who have come to the rink today. “How are we supposed to skate with this many people here?” 

You smile, lacing up your skates. “We can still skate. We just can’t jump.” 

Jungwon looks hesitantly at you. “But skating laps is boring,” he says. “How am I going to fall back in love with skating like this?” 

“Because,” you say. “This was how you first fell in love with it as a kid. You didn’t know how to jump, how to spin, or how to do spirals. Sometimes doing simple things, such as just skating around the rink can be fun. There’s no pressure of needing to execute certain elements properly — look at everyone skating here today. They’re just here to have fun.” 

Jungwon looks at the people skating on the rink. There’s a bunch of couples, holding hands as they enjoy their date. There’s also lots of kids taking classes, learning how to balance on their skates just like he did when he was younger. There’s also two or three people who do seem like they’re good skaters, and Jungwon spots one of them doing a Biellmann spin right in the middle of the rink. 

And you are right. This was what the first rink Jungwon stepped on looked like. The rink he skated on wasn’t as busy as this, but sure enough, there were couples, kids that were learning to skate, and people like the girl doing the Biellmann spin was what made him think that he wanted to be able to do something like that. 

You motion for Jungwon to join you as you step onto the ice, and he does. You two skate around the rink slowly — much slower than Jungwon is used to. He sees a couple of young kids who seemingly recognise you and him, pointing you two out to their friends.

“You’re famous,” he says, chuckling. “You’re more famous, Mr Placed 6th In The Olympics.” you reply, and he shakes his head. 

“It’s still 6th. Not a podium finish.” he says, and you sigh. “6th is crazy good for an 18 year old. Plus, you were competing with the greatest of the greats.” 

“That’s true, I suppose.” Jungwon muses. “I’ll just do better this year. Might as well go out with a bang, hmm?” 

“I guess so.” you say. 

Jungwon looks around him, seeing little kids who are seemingly learning how to skate for the first time struggle with their balance. He discreetly motions for them to put their arms out and bend their knees, to which they do. They seem to balance a lot better, and Jungwon gives them a soft smile.

Those kids remind him of himself when he was first learning how to skate. A helmet perched on his head with his knee and elbow guards on, and rental skates that Jungwon would never even dare to wear now. He ran onto the ice, falling over — then getting back up. Falling over, then getting back up.

When it comes to skating, Jungwon now feels like he’s fallen. And he can’t seem to just muster the strength to get himself back up. 

Perhaps you will be able to get him to ignite the passion that he had for figure skating once again, but there’s a chance that it won’t happen. 

Jungwon realised that it hurts to fall out of love with the very thing you sacrificed your entire life for. His childhood was spent at the rink, doing the one thing he knew best — skating. Now that he realises his passion for the sport has crumbled away, all he can ask himself is: was it worth it?

Jungwon wants to say yes. But he isn't quite sure if he believes that now, considering that the ice no longer feels like home.

“You’re thinking a lot.” you hum, and Jungwon nods. “I was just thinking about… how I started.

You motion for him to go on.

“I used to love skating. I loved it more than anything,” Jungwon says, staring at the ice. He once said that the boots on his feet somehow felt molded to his body, since he wore them so much. But now, these exact boots are uncomfortable — they are suffocating, and Jungwon knows that when he's under the pressure of competition, he’ll want nothing more than to take them off. “But now, I just feel emptiness. And I’m just thinking… what could’ve gone wrong?”

“I don’t think anything went wrong,” you reply. “I think you pushed too hard. Like you said, you devoted your entire life to this sport. Even the brightest of flames burn out. You just have to find the thing that’ll be able to light it back up again.” 

“That’s poetic.” Jungwon says. “Being a poet was my backup career option, if this whole… skating on knife boots thing didn’t work out.” you quip, and Jungwon cracks a smile.

“This conversation got deep,” Jungwon says. “Sorry for bringing the mood down. I know we’re here to have fun.” he says, and you shrug. “It’s alright. Maybe letting out your feelings about it will help too,” you say. 

“Maybe,” Jungwon says. “But I think I’ve been thinking about them too much lately. I need to try and rid myself of these emotions, because I’ll just end up overthinking and I’ll end up spiralling.” 

You nod. “That’s fair.”

You then spot a seal shaped skating aid, and you look at Jungwon with a twinkle in your eye. You skate a little faster to get to it, and you bring it back to where Jungwon’s standing, and you motion for him to sit down.

“What?” Jungwon asks, confused.

“Sit down!” you beam. “I’ll push you around the rink.” 

Jungwon reluctantly sits down, burying his face in his hands out of embarrassment. He feels like he’s 4 years old, with his sister pushing him around the rink. But he also remembers how fun it was, the cool air hitting his face as loud music played from the speakers in the rink. Christmas music, Jungwon remembered it being.

“I’m gonna push you now,” you say, and Jungwon nods. You start skating, and you begin to skate faster — your blades scratch across the surface of the ice as a small smile begins to make its way across Jungwon’s lips.

Jungwon never thought skating laps could be so… fun. It’s like he forgot this feeling — skating with no jumps, no spins, no spirals. Just moving forward. It was so simple.

Simple is fun, Jungwon realises.

Simply skating forwards seems more exciting than the intricate movements he has to make. He doesn’t need to worry about possibly falling on a quad, he doesn’t need to worry about underrotating a jump, or getting an edge call — he can just skate. 

“Wait,” Jungwon suddenly says, and then you stop.

“Let me push you,” he says, getting up. You nod, plopping yourself down onto the seat as Jungwon grips the handle on the skating aid, which is shaped like a seal’s tail.

Jungwon starts skating, pushing the skating aid forward. He skates around the rink, moving faster with each lap he makes, and you put your hands up as if you’re riding a rollercoaster.

“This is fun, isn’t it?” you ask.

Yes, Jungwon thinks. This is quite fun. 

Despite just skating laps in a public skating rink, Jungwon thinks this might be the most fun he’s had on the rink in the last year.

FOUR. one ice show, two realisations

You see Jungwon two days later at the rink. 

He waves at you from the ice, taking a sip from his water bottle. His phone pings with a message, and he picks it up to view the text.

His fingers fly over the screen as he types a response while you lace up your skates. “Who’s texting?” you ask, skating onto the rink.

“Oh, just Yuzu.” 

“You’re talking about two-time Olympic gold medalist Yuzuru Hanyu?” you ask, and Jungwon nods. “Yeah. We’re friends.” he says, placing his phone back onto the bench. 

“What’d he say?” you ask — you don’t mean to be nosy, but Jungwon seems more than comfortable with telling you what the Japanese figure skater had texted him about. “Fantasy on Ice,” Jungwon replies. “The organisers wanted to reach out to me and ask me to join them on the tour, so he probably texted to give me a heads up.” 

“You should definitely do it, Jungwon!” you smile, and Jungwon purses his lips. “I don’t know.” he says, and he seems hesitant to accept Yuzuru’s offer.

You cross your arms. “Remember, it’s not a competition. Ice shows are meant to be fun. It doesn’t matter if the performance isn’t perfect — as long as you're having fun, and the audience is having fun, then that’s all that matters.” 

“Right.” he gulps. “I just haven’t done an ice show in a while.” 

“It’ll be a good experience to have, Jungwon. You can get rid of the pressure to prepare everything for next season and just enjoy skating, and you can go make new friends too.” you say, and Jungwon seems to consider it.

“I only have one gala program prepared.”

“Choreograph a new one.”

“Taemin’s busy.” 

“You don’t have to ask Taemin. Choreograph one yourself.” you suggest, and Jungwon furrows his eyebrows. “I don’t know how to do that.” 

“Jungwon, you’re an artist. You can come up with something.”

“It’ll be bad.” 

“Have some confidence in yourself,” you say, patting his shoulder. “You won’t know if you’re good or bad at it until you try, right?” 

Jungwon gulps again. “Right.” 

“So are you going to take up Hanyu’s offer?” 

Jungwon shrugs. “Maybe.” 

“Make that maybe a yes,” you say. “Really, skating in an ice show might help you enjoy skating again. Trust me. The crowd hypes you up, the skaters are all supportive, and it’s just a really nice environment to be in.”

Jungwon ponders the idea for a moment. Maybe he should really do this ice show. He hasn’t performed in a non-competition capacity in a while, excluding the galas after competitions. Now that he thinks about it, it seems nice to skate without the pressure of competition.

But the little voice in his head tells him that he absolutely needs to work on his programs next season. He wants to go out with a bang — he can’t do that if he’s underprepared.

Then your voice rings in his head. Fuck it, he hears you say.

A few shows can’t possibly hinder his performance that much. And it’s not like he won’t get any practice time in, and he’s already learnt the choreography for both programs… so it shouldn’t be a problem… right? 

Jungwon wants to love skating again. 

Maybe an ice show is the second step out of many in his quest to possibly find his love for skating again.

“Okay.” he says, picking up his phone. He moves his thumb over Yuzuru’s contact, typing an ‘I’d be interested’ before sending it without hesitation. You look pleasantly surprised, a smile on your lips as he places down his phone before looking at you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, the corner of his lips quirking up into a small grin. 

“Nothing,” you say, looking down at your skates. “I’m just happy you’re trying to regain your passion for this sport.”

Jungwon hums. “Yes. I hope I will be able to.” 

“I hope you can too.” you say. “This ice show might help you change your mind.” 

“I just wanted to ask you — why did you offer to help me try and love the ice again?” he asks, and you purse your lips. 

This conversation is not an easy one to have, you think. 

“I guess it’s because I’ve been through something similar,” you start. “There’s a whole backstory to this, so I might as well tell you. I was 13 when I started being coached by Seo Minju.”

When you brought up Seo Minju, Jungwon knew that what you were about to say was not going to be pleasant at all. A couple of friends Jungwon had were also coached by Seo Minju, and had ended up getting multiple injuries — and some even had to retire early. 

“I trained… way too much, to say the least. More than you do now. I was breaking my body and my mind from the inside out, training even though I was — excuse my language — fucking exhausted. There was a point where in the middle of JGP Courchevel, I felt like I’d black out after I did a triple axel.” you say, and pressing your lips together in a thin line as you relive the memories that you’ve always wanted to forget. 

“And I was in so much pain. I don’t know how I still trained with that much pain — I guess it was Seo who tried to make me keep going. Then one day… I just fractured my ankle,” you gulp, as Jungwon looks at you with his eyebrows knitted together, and his eyes seem to be watery. 

“The doctors said my career could have ended. That was the most terrifying thing to hear as a 14 year old kid. I had to rest, heal, and I couldn’t be on the ice for months. I swapped coaches, almost immediately after I got the diagnosis. And when I was told that I could go back onto the ice again, I was fucking terrified. I was scared that one wrong move would end my entire career for good.”

You sigh. “It took me months to heal. I still loved the ice — but my fear of it seemed stronger than my love for it. I had to relearn new techniques, get back my triples… that’s why I disappeared for a whole season. And when I managed to become comfortable with the ice again, I kind of just started thinking in a different perspective. I guess I kind of just want you to maybe think of the sport differently than the way you see it now. Because at the end of the day, when we decided to start, it was because we loved it, right?” 

Jungwon finds that a tear trickles down his cheek after you finish speaking. “Don’t cry,” you say, a frown on your face. “I’m okay now.” 

“I’m so sorry.” he says, and you smile. “It’s okay. I just kind of always have to remember to take more care of this ankle right here,” you say, pointing to your right ankle. “My problem child.” you quip, trying to lighten the mood.

Jungwon’s only gotten to know you better in the past few weeks, but he thinks that you’re the most incredible and most admirable person he’s ever met. And the fact that you would go out of your way to try and help him enjoy skating again — it makes warmth bloom across Jungwon’s chest and fills him with nothing but happiness. 

He thinks he’ll be eternally grateful for you.

“Come here,” he says, arms held out to pull you in a hug. You skate closer to him, and he wraps his arms around you, and you do the same, wrapping your arms around him.. Jungwon’s hugs are comforting, and you feel nothing but warmth despite you both standing in the middle of an ice skating rink.

He smells like fresh linen, you realise.

You also realise that you don’t really want to let go.

FIVE. spiralling 

You receive a message from the Fantasy On Ice organisers a few days later as well, asking if you’d like to join them on tour.

Of course you say yes.

Jungwon seems more cheerful lately. His mood dampens a little bit when he’s on the ice, but it seems barely noticeable to Jiwon and Jongseob — maybe you're just extra attentive when it comes to him.

Jungwon will admit that he is feeling a little bit better. Skating to a program that he knows he doesn’t have to compete with is freeing, fun even. But the little devil on his shoulder keeps pestering him, telling him that he has to focus on next season’s programs.  

Jungwon tells the devil to fuck off.

He heads back to his apartment, the weight on his shoulders slightly less heavy than it was a couple weeks ago. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, he might get to love skating again.

When he opens the door, he’s surprised by his cousin, Wonyoung, who stands in front of the door with balloons in her hands. “Congrats on your Worlds win!” 

She pulls Jungwon in for a hug. “You’re two weeks late, Wonyo.” he jokes, and Wonyoung scoffs. “I texted you, because I was in Paris and I couldn’t come watch you.”

“I know, I know.” Jungwon says, putting his skate bag away before he flops on the couch, Wonyoung sitting next to him. “How’s skating?” she asks.

“Terrible,” Jungwon responds. “Well, not entirely. But 90% terrible.” 

Wonyoung looks surprised. “What? You just won a major competition though.”

“Yeah. I guess. But it’s not exactly fun anymore,” Jungwon sighs, and Wonyoung frowns. “I feel way too much pressure to be perfect. Every day of my life, it’s just training, training, training — I feel like I know nothing outside of figure skating.” 

Jungwon’s phone rings, and he furrows his eyebrows before pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking the caller ID. It’s Jangmi, his older sister.

“Hello?” Jungwon says, putting his sister on speaker mode. 

“Why did we have to find out from Irene that you’re retiring?” Jangmi’s tone does not seem happy, and Wonyoung, who’s sitting beside him, seems shocked. 

Jungwon sits up properly, frowning at his sister’s words. “Because I didn’t think that it was any of your business at the time, and probably because I would’ve told you when I was ready?” he replies. “Why do you sound so angry?” 

“You’re like… 22. You’re way too young to retire.” 

“I don’t think that’s for you to decide, Jangmi.” Jungwon says, sighing. 

“Why are you even retiring anyways? It’s not like you’re injured or anything.” she says, and Jungwon frowns. “I just don’t love the sport anymore, Jangmi. I should be able to retire when I want to, and I think that I want to.” 

“All because you don’t love the sport? You’re throwing away all those years of your training because you don’t love it anymore? You’re just finding an excuse to quit, Jungwon — and you know our family doesn’t like quitters.”

Jangmi’s words make Jungwon fume. He’s furious, and Wonyoung can tell from the way his expression immediately changes from frustration to one of pure anger. 

“You would never understand, Jangmi. I sacrificed my entire childhood for this sport and I wish I fucking knew why I fell out of love with it but I just don’t know why, okay? I wish I could just suddenly start fucking love skating like I did when I was 4, but that’s not possible! I’ve gotten to the point where I simply just cannot continue because I’m not going to spend my days being miserable doing something that I don’t love.” Jungwon’s hands tremble as he holds his phone, tears welling in his eyes and Wonyoung pats his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him — it does not seem to work at all.

“Do your medals and titles really mean nothing to you? Do they not give you motivation to keep going? You’re literally Yang Jungwon, Olympian, 2025 World Champion, and a 5 time national champion!”

“They seem to mean more to you than they do to me.” Jungwon says.

“Jungwon, you can’t give up.”

“But I can.” 

“Jungwon—”

“Jangmi, I’m really not in the mood for this right now. Call me when you can accept my decision.” Jungwon says, before hanging up. He sighs, leaning his head back on the headrest of his couch.

He blinks away the tears in his eyes, and he lets out a loud sigh.

“Are you okay?” Wonyoung asks, even if she knows that her cousin is anything but okay.

“I’ll manage.” Jungwon replies, and Wonyoung gives him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Jungwon gives her a stiff smile. 

None of them say a word for a while, sitting in silence until Jungwon suddenly speaks up. “I just don’t know how this happened.” 

“What?” Wonyoung asks. 

“How I managed to start disliking the one thing I swore I’d love my whole life. I spent my entire life, I sacrificed my entire life just to get here… and now that I am here, I find that I suddenly hate skating. The passion I used to have seems like it just disappeared into thin air.” 

“What Jangmi said was wrong.” Wonyoung says. “It’s your career. Do whatever you want.” 

“But now that I think about it, do I really want to retire?” Jungwon lets out a sad laugh. “I was telling my friend, (Name), that I wanted to love skating again. Maybe that’s just all I want.” 

Jangmi’s phone call somehow really struck a chord within Jungwon. He knew that his sister only cared about his titles — it’s been like that since they were kids. Saying I’m figure skater Yang Jungwon’s sister somehow gave her an automatic “cool” pass. Then it became national champion Yang Jungwon. Then, Olympian Yang Jungwon.

Figure skating is all Jungwon’s ever known. Saying that he wants to retire seems easy enough when he knows he hates what he does. But when his last competition rolls around, Jungwon knows that leaving the ice might be the most difficult thing he’s had to do, ever.

Jungwon might hate the sport he’s sacrificed his life for, but what he hates more is that he allowed himself to start hating it.

SIX. rental skates

After a few weeks of practising your gala performance and a little bit of your programs for next season, you and Jungwon are headed to Japan for Fantasy On Ice.

Jungwon hasn’t exactly been in the best mood lately. You’ve tried to cheer him up, and it works sometimes, but he still looks exhausted and tired of it whenever he steps on the ice.

You hope the ice show will make him feel better. Sometimes performing to an upbeat and supportive crowd can help cheer people up (at least that’s what it’s like for you.)

You’ve given him supportive comments while you’re watching him rehearse his program for the show, and you manage to get him to crack small smiles while he’s skating — you know he’ll have to take this one step at a time.

You two are seated beside each other on the plane, and Jungwon settles into his seat comfortably, headphones propped on his head over a baseball cap.

“Are you feeling okay?” you ask him, and he shrugs. “I haven’t participated in an ice show for a while. I really don’t know what to expect…. so I’m a bit worried.” he replies.

“Don’t worry. Ice shows are meant to just be for fun,” you say. “Skating is something you should enjoy with the audience.”

Your take is interesting. All his life, Jungwon has just been aiming for the medals — he never thought about how he was feeling while he skated. It was as if his mind was blank, only knowing that he had to do this certain element at this certain time. 

Because getting medals was what would bring him joy, right? 

That was what Jungwon used to think. 

“Mhm.” he replies. 

He doesn’t know why his sister’s words from weeks ago are still stuck in his mind. He goes quiet, lips downturned into a small frown that you notice. 

“How’d you start liking the sport?” you ask Jungwon, noticing his mood to seemingly be less than pleasant. Maybe your question will help him take his mind off whatever’s been bugging him.

“My sister’s birthday party. We all went to the ice rink together. I remember just running onto the ice, and I fell a couple times. There was this one learn to skate class being held during it, and I just saw other kids my age having so much fun. Then, I saw this one girl do a Biellmann, and she did some double jumps too. And I thought — how cool would it be if I could do that?” he says, and he smiles a little when he thinks about those good memories.

“What about you?” he asks, taking a sip from his water bottle as the pilot notifies everyone that they’re about to take off.

“My parents just signed me up for skating lessons. But then I ended up really loving it after my first class.” you reply, and Jungwon nods.

“Now that I think about it, classes were really fun for me when I was a kid.” Jungwon says, and you crack a small smile. “We should do a learn to skate class for jokes,” you say, and Jungwon chuckles. “The coach would definitely ask us what we’re doing there. They’d be so confused.” he replies. 

“Let’s wear rental skates.” 

“Oh, god no.” Jungwon grimaces at the thought. “I swear the blades at the rink haven’t been sharpened for years.” 

“You should try a triple in rental skates,” you joke, and Jungwon makes a face, wincing. “I can already feel the pain from that… I’d most definitely fall and injure myself.” 

“No, you’d be good, Mr 2025 World Champion.” 

“You try it, Ms 2025 Grand Prix Final winner.” 

Jungwon thinks that he feels the most comfortable when he’s around you. It takes him a bit to warm up to people, but you two had formed a close relationship practically the minute you guys became training mates. Talking to you is easy, and fun – he doesn’t think he’s had a good laugh on the rink in years, and Jungwon realises that skating is more fun when you’re around.

Goofing around on the rink, taking practices seriously but also not at the same time is something that seems new to Jungwon, at least in the last few years. So seeing you find joy in practice, which is something he hasn’t been able to do for years, makes him think that maybe he could do that too. 

You encourage him, as well, pulling him into your antics that make Jongseob, Jiwon and Eunchae laugh. Slowly but surely, all your training mates seem to realise that Jungwon’s loosening up – he allows himself to have fun on the rink, and he allows himself to take breaks.

During a conversation between Jongseob, Jiwon and Eunchae, Jiwon had mentioned that she thought that Jungwon would probably fall in love with you. 

“She seems to make him happy,” was what she said. She’s not wrong, too – everyone’s noticed the way Jungwon seems to seem livelier and happier lately. Jongseob remembers the way Jungwon seemed to be constantly stressed, eyebrows almost always knitted together in worry, and never-ending sighs escaping past his lips. 

Jungwon’s love for skating hasn’t fully returned yet, but he thinks that he’s starting to like it a little again. It’s not as draining as it was before, and perhaps it’s because you’ve taught him that above all, skating should be fun. Jungwon allows himself to have fun on the ice for the first time in a couple of years, and when he glides across the ice with not a single ounce of worrying about him needing to prove that he’s the best, all he feels is relief. 

And he would be eternally grateful for you. For teaching him how to have fun on the ice again. To let go of all the pressure that’s been on his shoulders for years, and just to enjoy the sport.

Gold medals and countless titles might have brought him fulfilment years ago. But now, he thinks that simply just skating would bring the same amount of fulfilment, if not maybe even more.

SEVEN. side by side (quad toe)

Ice show practices are fun. 

Everyone’s got a smile on their faces. The first thing Jungwon notices is how warm and welcoming everyone is. The minute he walks into the rink alongside you, he’s welcomed with a hug from Harua, a figure skater from Japan that he remembers having a few nice conversations with during competitions. 

“It’s nice to see you again!” Harua beams. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” Jungwon replies, even though he saw him at Worlds just a few months ago. “I know right?” Harua says. “I’m glad you’re joining us this year, though! I remember the organisers wanted to see if you wanted to join us last year, but Irene told them you were busy.” 

Jungwon brushes his bangs out of his eyes. “Yeah, I was busy during the off-season last year. Preparing for competitions, you know… I thought I’d have a break from that and just join you guys this year.” 

“Mhm,” Harua nods, and he hears his name being called out by someone. “I think I’ve got to run along, but it was nice seeing you! It’ll be lots of fun. Nice seeing you too as well, (Name)! Let’s talk more later.” 

Harua runs off, as you give Jungwon an amused smile. “You guys seem close.” 

“We’re not super close… we’ve just talked to each other a couple times at competitions. He’s a really nice guy, though.” Jungwon says, taking his skates out of his skate bag. He looks at the rink, and there are a few skaters he recognises just warming up. 

“He does seem really nice.” you hum, sitting down next to him as you take your skates out from your bag as well.

“You ready?” he asks, standing up. You quickly finish lacing up your right boot before nodding. “Let’s go,” you say, linking arms with him as you lead him towards the rink.

You do it so casually that Jungwon needs a few seconds to process the action. He doesn’t know why his face starts feeling warm, and he doesn’t want you to let go of his arm.

The funniest thing is, the minute he thinks that, you let go, placing your hands into the pocket of your jacket.

“Hey, let’s do a side by side jump.” you suggest, and Jungwon nods. “Triple?” he asks, and you shake your head. “Nah, let’s do a quad. Quad toe?”

“Sure.” he says, and he starts skating, doing backward crossovers on the ice. “Should I count? How do pairs do this?” you say, as you skate beside him.

“Just count,” he says. 

“Okay, one, two, three.”

And you both take off, spinning four revolutions in the air before landing, completely synchronised. You look at Jungwon with a huge smile on your face, giving him a high five. “Nice.” you say.

“That was good.” Jungwon says, patting you on the shoulder. “New pairs team in the making!” you two hear Jongseob joke, and Jungwon lets out a chuckle. 

You tell Jungwon that you’re going to practise your gala program for a bit, and he nods as he watches you skate off. You glide gracefully across the ice, Jungwon admiring how beautiful your jumps and spins are.

He doesn’t realise that his expression is one of awe until Harua points it out. “You look very enamoured, Jungwon.” he smirks, and Jungwon immediately snaps out of it.

“Huh… what?” he asks, almost as if he’s in a daze. He blinks a couple times, and Harua only chuckles. “Do you like (Name)?

“Of course I like (Name). She’s my friend.” he says, completely clueless to what Harua’s hinting at. “No, no, I mean like… in a romantic way.” 

A romantic way?

It might sound a little crazy, but Jungwon does not think he’s ever had a crush on someone in his 22 years of walking on this planet. Skating was his number one priority — love wasn’t anywhere on his list of priorities. In fact, Jungwon doesn’t even think he’s thought about love at all.

So Jungwon isn’t quite sure how to tell if his feelings for you are romantic or not, because he simply just doesn’t know what having a crush feels like. He knows that you linking arms with him was nice. He knows that he didn’t want you to let go of his arm.

Was that the first sign of a crush?

Jungwon truly didn’t know.

He scratches the nape of his neck awkwardly. “I don't… think so.” he replies, but it comes out sounding more like a question, and Harua only smiles at him, amused.

“Cool. Cool… tell me that next year when you two are dating.” the boy says, and Jungwon raises an eyebrow. “We’re not going to… what?”

“You seem much happier when you’re around her, you know.” Harua says, earnestly. “At Worlds, you didn’t seem very happy. You seemed tense, as if you were always burdened by something.” 

“But now, you seem like you’re feeling better. You’re smiling again.” Harua says, and Jungwon takes a few seconds to process his words. 

“She… she’s trying to get me to like skating again.” Jungwon says, and Harua lets out a knowing ‘ah’. “I guess I have started liking skating more again… because she’s helped me learn to have fun.”

“That’s good. See, your relationship is like a whole Netflix movie plot.” Harua quips.

“I really don’t see the vision you’re trying to paint in my head, Harua.” Jungwon says, and Harua shrugs. “Just think about your feelings when you’re around her. I guess if you feel like… warm, and happy when she’s around, you like her? Or if you think about her a lot. Or if you want to kiss her, I don’t know. You should Google it. Ask Google how to tell if you like someone, or something. You know it has all the answers.” 

Jungwon’s drawn to two parts of what Harua just said. One, the part being that Harua told him to ask Google how to tell if you liked someone, and two, the part where he told Jungwon to think about whether he wanted to kiss you. 

Jungwon’s not going to Google to ask for relationship advice. 

And Jungwon also doesn’t know if he wants to kiss you or not. He doesn’t even know if he likes you romantically, either. All he knows is that you make him happy. Much happier than he used to be.

But when you skate up to him with a bright smile on your face, Jungwon feels his heart beat faster than it was just a few seconds ago. And he knows it’s not because he’s tired from skating, because after all, he has been standing still while talking to Harua.

Maybe he does like you. 

Just a little bit.

EIGHT. let me entertain you

Tonight is the first show of Fantasy on Ice for this year, and you’re bursting with excitement. 

You get dressed into the costume for the opening, and you raise an eyebrow when you see the dress. It’s not… terrible, but it’s not something you’d wear at all.

You leave the dressing room, looking into the mirror as you tilt your head. You walk towards the hair and makeup area, where Jungwon’s getting his hair done.

“Do I look okay?” 

Jungwon thinks his heart skips a beat. 

The costume is... alright, but that’s the case with Fantasy On Ice costumes every year. But, you make it look really, really good. Unconsciously, a smile makes its way to his lips, and you take it as a good sign.

“You look great.” he says, and you smile. 

“Thank you, Won!” 

You just called him a nickname. His smile seemingly gets wider as you scurry off, being called for your own hair and makeup to be done. 

“Do you see what I mean, Jungwon?” Harua says, sitting in the chair beside him. “I really don’t.” Jungwon replies.

“You two are definitely going to fall in love. I’ve got great matchmaking skills.” Harua smirks.

“Who’s falling in love?” Yuzuru asks, overhearing Harua’s words, and Jungwon buries his face in his hands. “Jungwon! And… (Name).” Harua says your voice very quietly, in fear that you might hear him.

“Oh?” Yuzuru says, wiggling his eyebrows. “You guys would be cute together. Did you guys get closer recently?” 

“Mhm,” Jungwon nods. “I don’t think I'm… in love though.”

“You’re married to the ice like Yuzu, huh?” Harua quips. “I said I wanted someone who would benefit my skating or be very supportive of it.” Yuzuru replies.

“Elsa.” 

“Enough.” 

“No, but I just haven’t thought about love, you know?” Jungwon says. “Skating takes up my whole life… I don’t exactly have the time to think about it.”

“Valid.” Yuzuru hums. “But seriously, you two would actually be really cute together. Harua says he hasn’t seen you smile genuinely in years.” 

Jungwon thinks Harua might be exaggerating a little. He would smile at Harua (genuine smiles!) after he finished skating. It was just during the skate, during the Kiss and Cry, and during the podium where Jungwon would do the smile that never quite ended up reaching his eyes. 

“You’re making me sound emo!” 

“You are though?”  Harua replies, laughing. “Wait, no… not anymore.” he nods his head in the direction of where you are, and Jungwon rolls his eyes. 

“I’m not falling in love.” he says, before getting up from his chair. He hears Harua say Whatever you say! teasingly, and Jungwon just shakes his head as he makes his way over to you. 

“Hey,” he says, greeting you as the makeup artist swipes a pretty pink colour on your lips. You look up at him, waving (because you can’t exactly smile right now.) 

“Hi! You’re lucky you’ve got a puffer jacket on. Man, it’s freezing here.” you say when the makeup artist is done, shivering slightly. For someone who’s on the ice almost all the time, your tolerance to the cold isn’t exactly high — but in your defence, they did have the aircon on in the room.

“You can just take mine,” Jungwon says, unzipping it. He drapes it over your shoulders, and the action suddenly makes your cheeks start feeling hot.

You’ve heard about this feeling before, but you don’t think you’ve ever really experienced it. If those movies and books were right, you think you might just have the tiniest crush on Yang Jungwon.

You think that becoming friends with Jungwon might’ve been one of the best decisions of your life. He’s kind — always caring about you even when he’s feeling down in the dumps. He’s funny too, but he doesn’t seem to show it to anyone other than you. And, he is undeniably one of the prettiest people you’ve ever seen.

Him lending you his jacket just makes your heart flutter. 

“Oh, thank you.” you say, and for the first time, you find yourself at a loss for words when you’re talking to Jungwon.

“It’ll keep you warm until before the show starts.” he says, and you nod. “You ready?” you ask, and Jungwon shrugs. 

“I don’t know. I’m a bit scared. I hope I do well.” 

You take his hand, giving him an encouraging squeeze. “I know you’ll do well. And just remember that this is for fun. It’s not a competition. You’re here to have fun, you’re here to let the audience have fun.” 

“Okay.” he says, taking a deep breath. “I’ll make sure to have fun.” 

“Loosen up, Wonie.” you beam at him. “The crowd will love you, I’m sure of it.” 

You see everyone starting to line up in order of their appearance for the opening, and thankfully, you’re behind Jungwon, so you two can continue your conversation.

“I just wanted to ask.” you start, and Jungwon hums, motioning for you to continue. “Do you think you’re starting to love skating again?”

Jungwon is silent for a moment.

“A little bit. Because now I know that skating is meant to be fun, above all.” he says, and you smile.

“Cool.”

“Thank you.” Jungwon grins at you.

“For what?” you ask.

“For helping me with liking skating again. I really thought I wouldn’t be able to find my love for it again. I guess I just thought that if I trained harder and got better results, I’d be happier with my skates… but I was wrong,” he replies. “I needed to learn how to have fun again. I needed to remember why I started loving the sport in the first place.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Won.”

“No, but I do. I know I wouldn’t have done this ice show if you didn’t convince me to. And from what I can tell and the cheers I can hear, I think it’ll be a lot of fun.” he smiles. “So thank you. For pushing me to loosen up. For pushing me to learn to have fun.”

“You’re welcome, then.” you smile. The organiser tells Jungwon that he’ll be up next. “You’ll kill it out there.” you say.

“So will you.”

Jungwon thinks that deciding to join this ice show might be one of the best decisions he’s made. 

NINE. ice days

Jungwon has never felt so happy to perform.

The crowd is loud, lively and cheers him on, applause sounding throughout the arena after he lands a jump. The atmosphere makes Jungwon excited to skate on the next show.

It’s been a while since Jungwon felt excitement towards the ice.

Cheers resound throughout the arena when he finishes his program, and he finds that he doesn’t have to plaster a smile on his face — he already is smiling. A huge, genuine smile. 

He doesn’t see you until the group number at the end, and when he spots you, he skates a little faster in order to catch up with you. “Hey, Won! You did great.” you say when you notice him skating beside you on your left. 

“Thank you,” he says, a smile on his lips. “You did great too.” 

“Was it fun?” you ask, playing with the coloured scarf tied around your neck. You notice that you and Jungwon have the same exact one – they’re both orange and pink (a colour combination that you’re not quite sure you like too much.)

“Yeah. It was really fun.” 

“What’d I tell you?” you say, grinning brightly at him. “There are a lot more shows after this, so you’ll get to experience all this over and over again.” 

“I’m glad you made me do this,” he says, chuckling. “I don’t think I’ve had this much fun on the ice in a long, long time.” 

“That’s good. Do you think my quest to help you love the ice again is working?” you ask.

“I think it is.” 

You take his hand and squeeze it. “That’s good. I’m glad.”

Jungwon doesn’t notice the crowd seems to get louder after seeing your action. He thinks that someone must’ve done a cool trick, like Jongseob doing a backflip. 

“That’s enough, lovebirds!” Harua says, skating up to you two. “We’re about to leave the rink.” 

All the skaters skate to the centre of the rink, and Jungwon does too, with you following him. You all link hands, bowing at the audience before each of you leave the rink, one by one.

As Jungwon’s hand is in yours, you can’t stop thinking about Harua calling you two lovebirds. Obviously, you and Jungwon weren’t together, but now you can’t stop thinking that perhaps there could be a possibility, provided that you managed to figure out all the mixed feelings you had and if he reciprocated.

But strangely, something about Jungwon just makes you feel at home.

There is something so comforting about his presence. You feel at ease with Jungwon — it’s easy to talk to him, it’s easy to crack jokes when he’s around (you realised that you do it more often when he’s around just so you can see him laugh.)

It’s also easy to just sit in silence with Jungwon. Usually you’d feel compelled to fill the awkward silence, but with Jungwon, sometimes words don’t need to be shared. You feel like you’re able to understand him, and he’s able to understand you, despite only growing close during the off-season.

You’d like to think that he’s the closest friend in your circle of skater friends.

When you’re finished getting changed out of the costume and remove your makeup, you try to find Jungwon in the packed room, but to no avail. 

“Who are you looking for?” Kaori asks, and you turn around to face her. “Oh! Jungwon.” you say, and Kaori points in the direction she saw him go in. “He’s just over there, with Harua.” 

“Thanks!” you say, grinning at Kaori before heading in the direction she pointed at. Sure enough, Jungwon’s sitting there, typing away at his phone.

“Won!” you say, and he looks up, a smile immediately on his lips. “(Name)! I was waiting for you.” he says.

Your heart flutters. Harua smirks whilst trying to stifle a giggle. Jungwon shoots a pointed look at the boy.

“Oh?” you ask. “Yeah. I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner before heading back to the hotel together.” he says, standing up from his chair.

“Of course!” you reply, nodding. “Cool,” he says, placing his puffer jacket into his bag. “Harua says there’s a good ramen place around here.” 

“Yeah. It’s really good. I would go with you guys but then I’d be third-wheeling.” Harua says, still seated in his chair. Your cheeks flush pink at his words, whilst Jungwon furrows his eyebrows. “Why would you be third-wheeling?” 

“Oh. Just because,” Harua says, a smirk on his lips. “You guys should run along now. They close pretty soon,” he checks the time on his phone.

“Well! We should hurry then… see you tomorrow, Harua.” you say, and Jungwon waves at the skater. “Bye!” 

Have fun on your date, Harua mouths at Jungwon. Jungwon rolls his eyes in response. 

“The crowd were cheering really loud for you tonight,” you tell Jungwon. “Oh, really?” he asks — he thought they were just as loud with everybody else. 

“There were less people in the audience during the last ice show I did, but yeah. They were really loud — they seemed to really enjoy your performance.”

A small, proud smile makes its way to Jungwon’s lips. “I’m glad they enjoyed it. They seemed to like your performance too. I know I did.”

Goddamn Yang Jungwon. His words were making your heart beat as fast as it was when you were competing on the ice. 

Your cheeks feel hot, and you fan your face with your hand to try and stop them from getting warmer. Jungwon seems to notice your actions. “It’s hot, isn’t it?” he asks.

“What?”

“The weather.” he says, pulling out his phone. “It’s 32 degrees right now.” 

Thank god Jungwon is dense when it comes to any aspect of romance. You understand why though, because when he was younger, he was fully devoted to the ice. You don’t think he even gave any attention to the people who were chasing after him and yearning for his affection — because it was like his heart belonged to the ice.

“Oh. Yeah, it is.” you say. You think you dodged a bullet there. You and Jungwon arrive at the ramen shop soon after, and Harua is right — the food is absolutely delicious. 

Speaking of Harua, the ramen reminds you of him mentioning that if he came with you and Jungwon, he’d be third-wheeling. 

Somehow you feel… giddy at the thought of that. Not Harua third-wheeling, but the idea of you and Jungwon on a date. 

Wait, was this dinner a date? 

No. You shake your head to get rid of the thought. Jungwon only sees you as a friend. 

But the idea of you two possibly being something more seems to now be engraved in the back of your mind, and while eating ramen in 32 degree weather with Yang Jungwon in the streets of Makuhari, you realise:

You like Jungwon.

TEN. 4Lz (ur, fall)

Jungwon finds that Fantasy on Ice ends faster than he thinks. It was nearly two months of touring — time really does fly when you’re having fun.

He thinks he’s starting to enjoy skating again. He’s found a new appreciation for his craft — and with the knowledge that his skating is able to make so many people happy, he thinks that he should be able to make himself happy with his own skating. 

He returns to the Taereung skating rink with a bright smile, and Irene notices the change in his demeanour the second he walks in the door. 

“Welcome back, Jungwon.” she says, and Jungwon smiles. “Hi, Irene. Thanks.” he replies, placing his skate bag on the floor before taking his skates out. He takes off his usual training shoes, putting on the skating boots that've been with him every day for the last 3 years.

“How was FAOI?” Irene asks. “Good. It was fun.” Jungwon says, finishing lacing up his skates. 

“That’s good. Are you ready to practise for next season properly now?” she asks, and Jungwon nods. “Yeah.” he says, skating onto the rink. 

“You remember the choreographies, right?” she asks, and Jungwon nods. He thinks he remembers them, but now that she asks, he’s not too sure if he remembers them completely. 

“We’ll do the short program first.” Irene says, pressing play on her phone as the music plays through the speakers. 

Jungwon glides on the ice elegantly, his movements as fluid and soft as water. He spins and turns on the ice, doing backward crossovers as he prepares for the first jump — a quad lutz. 

He’s usually confident in this jump. He takes off, spinning in the air — but as he’s about to make his landing, he falls. Irene makes a noise just as Jungwon gets up, and he presses his lips together in a thin line. It’s fine. Jungwon thinks.

The next jump is a quad toeloop-triple toeloop combination, and Jungwon thinks he’ll do fine, and he lands the quad well, but he feels the landing on the triple is a little shaky.

Doubt fills his mind. Did he get worse somehow while doing the ice shows? Sure, he didn’t do as many quads when he was in Japan, but he thought he’d be okay. Or maybe he’s just having a bad day. He’s done three jumps. Two of them he wouldn’t consider done well.

Flying camel spin. Jungwon’s spins are always done well, and Irene nods in approval — but every thought in Jungwon’s mind is telling him that he shouldn’t have done that ice show. He slacked off, and now he’s not doing as great as he was before.

Final jump for his short program, a triple axel. He lands it cleanly, but he feels little satisfaction for it. Dread is what Jungwon feels. He shouldn’t have gone. He should’ve listened to the devil on his shoulder telling him to stay — he needs to train. He needs to practise.

Spin combination. Jungwon does them well as usual. Then the step sequence, which as he’s skating, he hears Irene make a small hum in satisfaction. But Jungwon does not feel any satisfaction from his performance at all.

The last element of his program, a sit spin, is completed perfectly. 

Jungwon is surprised he remembers the entire choreography when he’s in his finishing pose. He sighs, skating around the rink with a frown on his face.

“You didn’t have enough height on your quad lutz.” Irene says, and Jungwon nods. “I know.” 

“Train that for a bit.” 

Jungwon listens.

And he falls more than he usually does. 

The more he falls, the more his brain tells him that he should have stayed. He notices you entering the rink, and that lifts his mood slightly — but as he attempts another quad lutz, and falls, he’s just completely tired.

He motions to Irene that he’s going to have a break. He leaves the rink, putting his skate guards on as he heads towards an empty bench, burying his face in his hands.

You immediately notice the dejected look on Jungwon’s face, and you hurry over to him to ask him if he’s okay. 

“What’s wrong, Won?” you ask, sitting down next to him. “Nothing. I’m frustrated.” he replies with a sigh.

“You can talk to me.” 

“I spent too much time having fun. And now I think I forgot the choreo to my free skate, and I can’t land my quad lutz — usually, I’d be way ahead in terms of preparation. And I’m just scared that I won’t do well next season.” he says, his voice shaky, and you frown.

“I’m not blaming you for saying I should’ve gone to the ice shows, by the way. I enjoyed the ice show. But now I feel underprepared.” 

“It’s okay. But Jungwon, Grand Prix is like in… September. It’s July.” you say, in an attempt to reassure him.

“I know. I know. I’m just… worried.” 

“You have plenty, plenty of time. And hey, maybe it’s just a bad skate day. I get those sometimes.” you say in a soft voice, placing your hand on his shoulder, and Jungwon thinks your words make him feel a little better. “Doing not as well on one day doesn’t mean you’re terrible now, Jungwon. You have lots of time, and you’ll only get better. Don’t stress, okay?”

“Okay.” he says, sighing. 

“You’ll do great. I know it.” 

Your words are able to comfort him. Jungwon is thankful for that. But he feels this blooming feeling in his chest that he doesn’t really think he’s ever felt before. The words Harua said a month ago pops back into his mind. You two are definitely going to fall in love.

Love may be a bit of a stretch for now. But Jungwon thinks he certainly does like you. He feels warm and happy around you. He thinks about you a lot. And the possibility of being something more than friends has started to linger in the back of his mind.

“Thank you. You will too.” Jungwon says. You give his hand a tight squeeze as encouragement, telling him ‘fighting!’ — which makes him crack a small smile.

Shit, maybe Harua is right. Jungwon thinks. He heads back onto the rink, deciding that he should try the quad lutz again. Maybe it’s just a bad day. 

And as he lands one that he thinks is the cleanest one he’s ever done, he decides that perhaps taking Harua’s advice to ask Google how to tell if he likes someone isn’t the worst idea. 

ELEVEN. octuple flip

Grand Prix assignments roll out two weeks after you and Jungwon’s return to the Taereung rink. 

You’re assigned to Grand Prix de France and NHK Trophy, and Jungwon’s assigned to Skate Canada and like you, the NHK Trophy. 

You’re glad you’ll at least be able to see him at a Grand Prix competition. You tell him that when he’s at Skate Canada, you’ll be watching him skate from the comfort of your home. He tells you that he’ll be doing the same when you’re at Grand Prix de France.

You and Jungwon get even closer during training for the Grand Prix competitions. Like you had said, that day when he fell on the quad lutz multiple times was just a bad day. You’ve seen him do both his short program and free program cleanly multiple times now. 

Jungwon thinks he must’ve been having fun during training, because Skate Canada rolls around faster than he thinks. But of course with you around at training, it’ll always be fun. 

He did not end up asking Google for relationship advice. He instead asked Wonyoung, who had asked him to text her about you and just simply describe you and how you made him feel. He had originally texted  ‘nice to me.’, but then Wonyoung told him that he had to elaborate.

Needless to say, after his long paragraph about you that he sent to Wonyoung (she skimmed over it, the first two lines of the text were all she needed to know), she had established that Jungwon liked you. 

And with that thought in his mind, Jungwon does realise he has started to act differently around you more recently. He’s more attentive to you, he’s always by your side when you’re around, and he finds himself sometimes wanting to just hold your hand.

As you send him off to the airport, a bright smile on your lips and a cat plushie in your hand that you give to him, a pink blush tints his cheeks, even if he doesn’t know it. And if he did, he’d blame it on how hot the coffee in his hand is. 

Unbeknownst to Jungwon, your cheeks are heating up too when you see the look on his face after you give him the stuffed animal. 

There’s just something about Jungwon that makes your heart do flips. Triple flips, quadruple flips — even quintuple flips.

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest. You think it just did 8 rotations. Not humanly possible.

But, your heart just does an octuple flip. 

You text him every day too, when he’s in Canada. He responds almost immediately (if he’s awake, because of the damned time zones), and he sometimes even sends you pictures of himself on the ice too. There’s one where he’s holding up the cat plushie you gave him, a smile on his lips. You find that there are butterflies in your stomach after you see the message.

Time zones are horrible, but you set an alarm so you can remember to open up your laptop and watch him skate. 

You send him a goodluck message, that he doesn’t read immediately because he must have his phone in his bag, since he’s about to skate soon. 

And when the commentator announces Jungwon’s name, you see him skate out onto the rink. You murmur You got this! but obviously, you know he can’t hear you.

“Now, obviously Yang Jungwon is one of the most anticipated skaters at this Grand Prix competition. He delivered a sublime skate at Worlds last season, securing him the title as world champion.” you hear the commentator say, as Jungwon skates around the rink before getting into his starting position. “Yang Jungwon with the music: A Walk In The Skies.” 

The music starts, and Jungwon moves across the ice in a way you’re most familiar with now. You’ve seen him do this program hundreds, maybe thousands of times — but at a competition, Jungwon’s got his A-game on. His movements are delicate, elegant and beautiful. 

“First comes the quad lutz.” the commentator says, and you watch your screen intently as Jungwon takes off, spinning four revolutions in the air before landing cleanly. “Yes!” you say, pumping your fist. 

“Absolutely stunning.” 

You agree with the commentator wholeheartedly.

“The quad toe-triple toe.” Jungwon lands the quad toe the second the commentator says that, and takes off into the triple toe — another clean jump. 

You smile. He’s doing great, you think, as he does a flying camel spin. He looks happy as he skates as well. He seems to be enjoying the sport more and more each day.

Jungwon skates his entire program cleanly, with all green boxes on the left hand corner of your screen. His technical score is the highest among all the skaters, and he was the last to skate — you think that he’ll definitely place first in the short program.

“Yang Jungwon at his best, everyone.” the commentator says. “Yang did absolutely wonderful tonight, and I’m sure it will reflect on the scores.”

He bows, a genuine smile on his lips — one that he hasn’t shown in a long time at competitions as the cat plushies fall from the bleachers and onto the ice. He picks up as many as he can before leaving the rink while the flower kids pick up the rest, as the camera pans to him giving Irene a fist bump.

You think he’ll break 100. There’s no way he won’t. 

As he sits in the Kiss and Cry nervously waiting for his scores, you sit at home on your couch, just as nervous as he is. The camera faces towards him, and Jungwon smiles at it, holding up one of the cat plushies he had received and mouthing a thank you. 

“The scores, please.” 

“The short program score for Yang Jungwon of South Korea is 111.45, his season’s best and currently puts him in first place.” 

The crowd erupts into cheers, and you push your laptop off your lap and onto the couch, jumping up in excitement. 

You watch as Jungwon pumps his fist up into the air before hugging Irene with pure joy on his face. 

Jungwon doesn’t think he’s been this happy to place first in a long, long time. He had fun skating today. He also skated well today. And he’s currently in first. 

Having fun and winning can coexist. Jungwon finds that out today as he bows once more before leaving the Kiss and Cry.

Jungwon thinks that he’s just a few steps away from loving skating again. 

TWELVE. you, me (?) and the ice

Jungwon wins the men’s category of Skate Canada.

You welcome him back to Korea with a huge hug at the airport, slightly startling him but he hugs you back nevertheless. “You did so, so good!” you say, and Jungwon smiles.

“Thank you.” he says. “I haven’t felt this happy to win gold in so long.”

“You know I cried watching your free skate?” you say, and Jungwon looks at you, eyes widened. “Really?” he asks, as you lead him to your car. 

“I was really proud. And happy. Because you looked like you liked skating again.” you say. “I did like skating there. I haven’t enjoyed skating competitively for so long… and I feel like I just did better when I enjoyed it.” he hums.

“Jungwon, you broke a world record, and you had fun while doing it.” you say.

“I did.” he replies. “If you had told that to me at the beginning of the year, I wouldn’t have believed you.”

You load his luggage into the trunk of your car, motioning for him to get into the front seat. He does, and when you slide into the driver’s seat, he surprises you with a cute stuffed toy of an adorable polar bear — which are the plushies that your fans throw onto the ice after you skate.

“I saw this in a store window when I was heading back to the hotel, and it reminded me of you,” he says, handing it to you. “It’s so cute, Jungwon! Thank you.” you say, taking the toy in your hands. “Look, I even got it skates.” he says, pointing at the skates attached to the polar bear toy’s feet, making you chuckle. 

“That’s so cool.” you say, setting it aside so you can drive. “I’m putting this on my nightstand.” 

You do actually want to put it on your nightstand, but you decide to bring it with you to France. You pack it in your backpack the night before you leave. “You’re my good luck charm now,” you tell the stuffed toy.

And this time it’s Jungwon’s turn to send you off. 

Like what you did when Jungwon was in Canada, he texts you as much as he can, updating you on the little things that go on at the rink, such as telling you about how Jiwon bought a hot dog, or Jongseob doing backflips on the ice nonstop.

He keeps his promise of watching you skate. He watches your short program on his bed, his dog Maeumi curling up beside him as he watches in anticipation. You skated clean in the short program, and as if Jungwon was actually in the arena right now, he erupts into applause. 

“Look, Maeumi. (Name) did well.” he says, showing his dog the screen that showed the rankings. Maeumi only blinks at the screen. 

When the time to watch your free skate rolls around, Jungwon drops everything to watch it. He ends his call with Wonyoung, when they’re talking about the family gathering next month that Jungwon doesn’t think that he’ll be able to make it to. “Sorry, Wonyo — something important just came up, I’ll call you back later.” he tells her, ending the call swiftly.

He sees you in the last group of skaters warming up — you’re going to skate last, because you placed first during the short program. He watches as you land a triple loop cleanly, and unconsciously, a smile makes its way to his lips.

He watches the other skaters skate before you, and they all do pretty well. There’s a couple of falls, and Jungwon winces when one of the skaters hits the ice particularly hard. 

And when your name is announced, his eyes are immediately drawn to the screen, diverting his attention from Maeumi, who now also seems to be drawn to the laptop.

“Last to skate is (Name), representing South Korea. Now, (Name) had a wonderful season last year — placing 1st at the Grand Prix finals, and 2nd at the World Championships. Placed first in the short program, she’s surely aiming for the top of the podium here today.” the commentator says. 

Jungwon chews on the inside of his cheek nervously as your music starts. 

Every time you skate, Jungwon is in awe, and today is certainly no exception. You glide on the ice as smoothly as a flowing river, every movement of yours from your arm all the way to your fingertips controlled delicately. 

Quad flip, Jungwon thinks at the same time the commentator says that out loud. You land it beautifully, and Jungwon nods his head, murmuring ‘nice’. Maeumi looks at Jungwon’s laptop screen, just as transfixed on your skating as his owner is. 

Being able to watch your skating is a gift in itself, Jungwon thinks. Your performances are absolutely mesmerising, and Jungwon knows he wouldn’t be able to look away even if he tried. You are a master at combining technique with artistry – without a doubt, it is clear to everybody that you were born to skate. As you continue with your program, Jungwon’s eyes follow your figure on the screen.

He has watched you do this program a million times. Every single time, he gets chills – every single time, you do it better than the last time. Everything is executed to perfection, and there is one thing Jungwon notices clearly as you skate. It is your passion for it. 

You skate as if it'll be your last skate ever. You give your all, expressing every single emotion you feel and sharing it with the audience. You aren’t showing off your skills – you are telling a story. A tale of you and the ice.

You once mentioned to him that you had always wanted to fly. You might not have wings, but you have your skates. Aim higher. Soar higher. Despite how difficult figure skating is, and the injury that almost took you out of the sport — never once, have you thought to quit. Never once have you wanted to give up on your dream, and never once have you ever imagined a world without you skating.

Jungwon wants to skate with as much passion and love as you have for the sport. He has much to learn from you, and it is only when your music stops that he realises that a single tear drops from his eye. 

You have single handedly changed Jungwon’s entire perspective of skating. You managed to help him fall back in love with the sport – and he knows he’s not fully there yet, but he’s close to it, and your encouragement played a huge part in it. He knows he would be miserable on the ice if you hadn’t. 

And when your scores are announced, with everyone in the arena and everyone watching online hearing how you had broken a new world record, Jungwon jumps up from his bed with joy, a huge grin plastered on his lips. 

Nobody deserves that gold medal more than you do. 

THIRTEEN. thin ice

With each skate and each reminder that he should use the ice to release all his pressures and burdens, Jungwon enjoys skating more and more now. 

Irene notices how Jungwon finds skating more exciting. Being subjected to only frowns and sighs of disappointment only for the past few years, she thinks it’s certainly a nice change – and deep inside, she hopes that Jungwon will change his mind about retirement. 

He has been seriously considering it now. With him now being able to enjoy skating competitions, Jungwon finds himself wanting to compete next season, but still, a little part of him still wonders if he should let his first love go. 

He thinks he’ll decide after the Olympics (that is if he makes the team, of course.) Jungwon knows he’ll have to put out a really good skate at Nationals in January. Despite that little devil telling him that if he doesn’t train morning, noon and night, he’ll lose, Jungwon decides to ignore it. He finds that he skates better when he’s having fun anyways. 

NHK Trophy rolls around soon enough, and it’s both yours and Jungwon’s last Grand Prix assignment before the Final. You two are finally travelling together for the first time since the ice show, and you don’t forget to buy a cat plushie to hand to him after his free skate (you know he has plenty of them, but one more couldn’t hurt.)

Jungwon does the same, buying a polar bear plushie for you that he stuffs into his suitcase. 

The competition goes well for both of you, with both of you winning silver medals and gaining a spot in the Grand Prix Final.

You both fall once in the free skate, with the winners of the competition skating cleanly for both programs. The Jungwon a couple months ago would be terribly upset about it – but now, Jungwon is happy about silver. He podiumed whilst skating happily. Something that he didn’t think he’d be able to do again. 

When Jungwon hands you the polar bear plushie after your free skate, he doesn’t realise that a camera goes off the second you take hold of it in your hands. And when you hand him the cat plushie after his free skate, another camera goes off as well – you both don’t find out until somehow Dispatch releases an article about it. 

First of all, Jungwon wonders why you two are on Dispatch anyways. You two aren’t idols, and you doubt that the public would really care about either of your romantic lives, but Jungwon finds that he is very wrong after reading some of the comments from netizens. Second of all, he wonders why he didn’t notice the camera flash when both incidents happened. Third of all, he examines his face closely – and he thinks that the smile he’s giving you is one of the brightest ones of his that’s been seen on camera.

Harua texts him a ‘invite me to the wedding’ with a link to the article and too many emojis that it gives Jungwon an eyesore. Jungwon replies with a no and a middle finger emoji. Harua knows well enough that you and Jungwon aren’t together.

Yuzuru texts him ‘Are you two finally together? Congratulations!’ with perfect capitalisation and a link to the article. Jungwon replies with another no, but this time with a smiley face instead of the middle finger. Yuzuru texts him a thumbs up. His follow up message reads I’m sure it’ll happen soon though, and Jungwon just sends back a ‘hahahahaha’. 

And you’re subjected to merciless teasing from Riki, who spams the article link in your chat. You honestly think it’s much worse than the comments from some of the netizens you read. But honestly, what the netizens say isn't even that bad. Except for the comments from the ones who want Jungwon to be theirs. Those ones you just laugh at, because honestly, they’re quite hilarious. You’ve never read such creative insults directed at you. 

But the articles make Jungwon think. 

About the possibility of being in a relationship with you. He’s established that he thinks he likes you (or at least his feelings for you do fit what Wonyoung and Google have said about what liking someone is like), but Jungwon has never thought about… dating. 

Quite frankly, Jungwon thinks that he’d be scared to tell you about his feelings – because he knows that once you confess, that relationship would be changed forever. You can’t go back to just friends when the other knows that you want to be more than that. And what happens if the relationship doesn’t work out? Do you just act like the whole thing never happened? Or do you just cut the other person off completely? 

The latter option is absolutely not possible considering that you and Jungwon are training mates too. 

This is complicated. And thinking about it makes Jungwon’s head hurt. 

But then he looks at the cat plushie on his bed that you had given to him after he finished skating his free program. The joy that fills his heart is immense, and he can’t stop the lovestruck grin from spreading across his lips. 

Is this what the movies and books described as being struck by Cupid’s arrow? Because if so, Jungwon thinks that Cupid shot an arrow straight through his heart, with your name engraved on the tip of it. 

Jungwon can’t stop thinking about you. His day is instantly made the second he sees you walk through the doors of the Taereung ice rink, and he looks at you as if you've got the whole universe in your hands. Every single move you make, every single smile you send his way makes that blooming feeling in Jungwon’s chest get warmer, warmer, and warmer. 

Jungwon likes you. He thinks he really, really likes you. 

And coming to that conclusion doesn’t make him as afraid as he thought he'd be. He’s calm, and he thinks his conclusion just seems right. As if the final piece of the puzzle is put into place, Jungwon’s feelings for you are finally sorted out. 

Jungwon doesn’t need Harua, Wonyoung or Google to tell him that he likes you. 

He just knows it. 

Confessing is a whole other story, but Jungwon thinks that when the right time comes, he’ll do it. He doesn’t know much about love, with his entire life practically being devoted to the ice – but he knows that when it feels right, it must be the right time. 

So, Jungwon comes to two conclusions that night. 

One: he really likes you, and he doesn’t need anyone else to confirm it for him.

Two: he can’t believe that a Dispatch article made him realise that he really liked you. 

FOURTEEN. public skating session 

You ask Jungwon if you’d like to skate at another public rink after the Grand Prix Final is over.

He immediately says yes.

He doesn’t take you up on the offer to wear rental skates though, so both of you lace up your skates on the bench, Jungwon putting your bags into a cubbyhole. 

“Let’s go, Wonie!” you say, and he finds his heart fluttering at the nickname. He follows you onto the rink like the first time, and you two skate side by side, at a way slower pace than usual to be mindful of the other skaters at the rink.

“How does it feel to be the 2026 Grand Prix Final champion?” you ask him, and he smiles at you. “Hmm. I don’t know,” Jungwon replies. “I should be asking you that.”

You and Jungwon both winning in your respective categories were amazing for the media. Yang Jungwon and (Name), figure skaters rumoured to be dating win Men’s Grand Prix Final and Women’s Grand Prix Final was the headline. But at least Dispatch can add more to their article, and you and Jungwon get to go home with shiny gold medals. 

“Feels pretty good. Two years in a row,” you say, and he pats you on the back. “You deserved it,” Jungwon says. “Have I ever told you how in awe I am whenever I watch you skate?” 

“Thank you,” you say, chuckling as your cheeks turn hot at the compliment. “Your skating is amazing as well — that step sequence in World Dreams? Gave me actual chills. I saw a tear drop from a woman’s eye when I was seated in the crowd.”

“Really?” Jungwon asks, and you nod. “She was bawling by the end of it, I think.” you say, and Jungwon softly smiles. “I’m glad my skating made her feel something… hopefully all good things though.” 

“Most definitely good things. She threw 5 cat plushies onto the ice. I think she’s a hardcore fan.” you reply. “She might’ve dethroned my spot as your number one fan.” 

“Hey,” Jungwon says, pouting. “You texted me when I was at Skate Canada saying that you’d always be my number one fan.” 

“Yeah, but she was like a diehard fan,” you say. “Don’t worry though, I’ll throw out 15 cat plushies when you skate during Nationals. I’m taking my spot back.” 

“I’ll throw out more than 15 polar bear plushies when you skate at Nationals. I’ll throw out 16.” 

“Are you challenging me?” 

“Yeah,” Jungwon says, a smile never leaving his lips. 

“We can just be each other’s number one fan.” you say, and Jungwon nods. “Deal. So can I get your autograph?” he jokes. 

“Sure thing,” you say, playing along. You motion for him to hold his palm out, and you trace your autograph on his hand. “There you go!” you say, tracing a smiley face and a heart as well. 

“I’ll treasure this forever,” he quips. 

“You better.” 

You two fall into a comfortable silence as you both skate laps around the rink, observing the other people there. Like last time, there are couples on dates, there are little kids learning to skate, and there’s people who actually figure skate, doing spins in the centre of the rink. 

“Right, I was going to say. You seem way, way more happier on the ice than you were before,” you tell Jungwon, who nods. “Yeah. I think I actually like skating again. I mean… I can’t exactly say love, because you know… sometimes I just revert back to the way I used to think whenever I fail at something.” he replies. “But competitions are a lot more fun. The ice doesn’t drain me of all my energy anymore, and winning medals sort of brings me fulfilment again.”

“That’s amazing, Won.” you say. 

Now that you think about it. Jungwon wanted to retire because he didn’t love skating anymore. But now that Jungwon enjoys it again, you’re left wondering if he’ll still continue competitive skating.

It’s as if Jungwon’s able to read your mind. “I’m not sure if I’ll retire or not. On one hand, skating is fun now… and I’d like to continue at least maybe for a little longer, but I’m also wondering if I should just… let go. Explore things outside of skating, even though I know I’ll probably come back to the ice every time.”

You let his words sink in for a moment. “I think… you don’t have to decide your future plans this early. You could decide at the Olympics, after you skate. Or you could even go to Worlds after the Olympics and decide then.”

“Yeah. I could do that.” Jungwon breathes out. “I’m just… indecisive and unsure of everything right now.”

“No, I get it,” you nod. “You have time, Jungwon. Don’t rush things.” you tell him. 

Jungwon agrees with you. Thinking about too much and thinking too far ahead were two of the many reasons why he fell out of love with figure skating. Now that he’s slowly started to enjoy it again, he knows he has to rid himself of his bad habits. 

“Okay. It’s not like I’m in a hurry to retire. If I was, I would’ve already done it by now.” he says, smiling. “And if I don’t retire this season, I’ll probably just retire in 2030. I can still fulfil my dream of leaving at the biggest stage.” 

“I feel like I’d do that as well, if I’m not gonna lie.” you say, and Jungwon tilts his head. “So are we retiring together?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “I mean… if you don’t retire during this Olympics, then probably. But do what feels right, Won. Don’t do it because you feel pressure from others to keep going. If you love the sport, you’ll always find a way back to it, like something like professional skating, or coaching, or doing commentary. If you think it’s time, then it’s time.” 

Jungwon can always count on you for giving him great advice. 

“You’re right.” he says. “Anyways… enough about that.” he spots a penguin skating aid in the corner, and he skates up to grab a hold of it. He pushes it as he skates, and you can’t help but find the mere action adorable. 

You pull out your phone to record him, and you chuckle as you see him skate faster towards you. “Cute,” you say, and Jungwon’s cheeks flush pink. If you ask, he’ll blame it on the rink being cold. 

“You use it,” he says, pushing the skating aid towards you. You gladly take it, grabbing ahold of the handles, pushing it as you skate with Jungwon by your side. 

Talking to Jungwon is easy. He tells you about how he stores his medals in ziplock bags when he needs to take them to interviews, to which you propose a better idea: using socks (a trick you learned from none other than Yuzuru Hanyu himself.) He also tells you about his dog, Maeumi, who apparently had watched your Grand Prix de France free skate with him – Jungwon says that Maeumi was absolutely mesmerised by your performance, and it’s interesting how every single thing Jungwon says is able to bring a smile to your face. 

You tell him that you’d like to meet Maeumi, and he tells you that you’re welcome over anytime. Your heart flutters at the invitation that you accept warmly. “In fact, you could come over after we leave.” 

“Really?” you ask, and Jungwon nods. “It’s not like we’ll be spending more than an hour here anyways. We already spend most of our days at another rink – we’d get way too bored if we spend hours here like everyone else.” 

Jungwon is right. After 20 minutes of more skating and just talking to each other about your lives (as if you didn’t learn nearly absolutely everything about him during the off-season), you and Jungwon head over to his apartment, where you meet Maeumi. 

And as you play with Maeumi, gushing over how cute he is, you notice the fond smile on Jungwon’s lips as he watches you two from the couch. 

You don’t know why, but that look on Jungwon’s face makes you think that perhaps you two could be something more than friends. 

FIFTEEN. last nationals skate (?)

Jangmi calls Jungwon the day before the short program for Nationals. 

“I’m sorry for getting upset,” she tells him. “It’s your career, not mine.”

Jungwon sighs. “It’s fine. I don’t think I know what I want to do with my career either. Retiring is an option, and competing… also is another option now.” 

Jangmi somehow sounds happier at the sound of Jungwon’s words. “That's… good,” she says, trying to not make it obvious that continuing to skate is still an option for Jungwon. “What changed your mind?”

“I started liking it again.” he says, gazing at the sheet of ice in the Uijeongbu ice rink. The ice finally feels like home again, and instead of bringing him dread, Jungwon feels at ease at the rink now. The pressure is no longer something that drags him under – it is now something he uses to allow himself to skate better. 

Now when he skates, he feels his passion for it again. “Even the brightest of flames burn out,” you had said. His flame dimmed, nearly being put out entirely – but he’s more than happy to have been able to ignite it again. 

And as his music starts playing for the short program, Jungwon realises something as he glides across the ice elegantly. 

If he retires, this will be his last ever Nationals. 

This crowd, this rink, this atmosphere – it’ll be the last time he ever gets to experience this. He stays completely focused on his program, but this thought lingers at the back of his mind when he lands the quad lutz. 

The audience cheers, and Jungwon’s eyes catch sight of the banners that fans have made for him in the crowd, with encouraging words that bring a smile to Jungwon’s face. 

When he finishes his short program, Jungwon pumps his fist into the air, more than satisfied with his performance. He skates around the rink as the audience throws stuffed animals onto the ice, picking some up as he thanks the crowd. 

He bows before leaving the rink, Irene pulling him into a hug after he puts his skate guards on. “You did amazing.” she says, and Jungwon smiles. “Thank you,” he replies, as he makes his way to the Kiss and Cry.

As he waits patiently for his scores, he can’t stop thinking about how if he does decide to retire at the end of this season, that was his last ever short program at Nationals. He didn’t think this far ahead when he told Irene that he wanted to hang up his skates at the beginning of the off season, and now that he realises that he may be nearing the end of his career, Jungwon suddenly starts feeling a wave of sadness. 

He was nothing but sure about his decision when he told Irene that he’d be retiring. But now, sitting in the Kiss and Cry at quite possibly one of his last competitions ever, Jungwon thinks he might just want to hold on for a little longer. 

“The scores, please.” the announcer says, ending Jungwon’s train of thought. 

“The short program score for Yang Jungwon is 112.36, which currently puts him in first place.” 

The crowd erupts into cheers at his score, and Jungwon smiles in satisfaction while Irene claps. “Good job,” she tells him, and Jungwon thanks her. He stands up, bowing once again before leaving the Kiss and Cry, and everything just slowly starts sinking in. 

If this was his last short program ever at Nationals, at least he did well. 

But Jungwon doesn’t want this to be his last ever Nationals. The feeling of wanting nothing more than to just leave the ice has completely disappeared in a matter of months, and Jungwon now just wants to stay. 

Maybe it isn’t time to hang up his skates. 

After finding his passion for skating again, Jungwon just wants to feel the thrill of competition. He dreaded competitions months ago, but now his feelings towards the ice have completely changed. Winning medals can finally bring him satisfaction again – he’s being acknowledged for being good at something that he loves. 

He can now look at the cameras while standing atop that podium with a genuine smile on his face. He doesn’t feel like he’s a robot anymore, with  every move he makes when he skates programmed into his brain – he feels like he’s a writer, or a poet, telling his story on the ice. 

He changes out of his costume, putting on a hoodie and some sweatpants before leaving the locker room. He checks the time, realising that there’s only an hour until the women’s free skate – he promised you that he’d be in the crowd.

With 16 polar bear stuffed animals that he currently does not have. 

He rushes to the nearest toy shop, asking the staff if they have polar bear plushies still in stock, and luckily, they do. The shop assistant helping him looks slightly concerned when he asks for 16, but still brings them all out in a basket. “Is this for (Name)?” she asks, and Jungwon furrows his eyebrows, confused as to how she would know that. 

“Yeah… how’d you know?” 

“Bunch of people came in asking for polar bear stuffed toys to throw onto the ice for her.” she says, scanning all the polar bears. “Oh. That’s nice of them.” Jungwon replies. 

“You bought the most.” the shop assistant says, putting all of them into a large shopping bag for Jungwon, noticing how he only has a backpack that most certainly won’t fit 16 polar bear toys. 

“Oh, cool.” he says, swiping his card on the reader. The transaction goes through, and the shop assistant smiles at him before handing him his receipt. “Good luck to both you and (Name) on your free skates,” she tells him, and Jungwon thanks her before leaving the store. 

He makes it back to the Uijeongbu ice rink just in time, with Jongseob saving him a seat. “That’s a shit ton of polar bears you’ve got there,” Jongseob says, holding a plushie of Artemis from the Sailor Moon series to throw on the ice after Jiwon skates. 

“Yeah.” Jungwon replies, putting the shopping bag onto the ground. 

“You’re a dedicated boyf– fan!” 

“Enough.” 

There’s five groups of skaters, and you’re the last to skate. Jungwon cheers for each and every skater, but his cheers will definitely be the loudest for you. Jongseob yells as his life depends on it when Jiwon skates onto the ice. 

Soon enough, it’s your turn to skate. You look at the crowd, spotting Jungwon and Jongseob sitting together and you flash Jungwon a smile, whilst a shit-eating grin spreads across Jongseob’s lips. “Good luck,” he mouths to you, and you nod as a way of saying thank you. 

Your program goes well, for the most part – aside from falling on a quad toe loop and stepping out on a triple lutz. Jungwon knows that you’ve done enough to secure a podium spot – and a spot on the Olympic team, and it seems as if you know that too, tears streaming down your face the minute you finish your program. 

You’re going to the Olympics. You’ve finally achieved your lifelong dream.

Cheers and applause resound throughout the rink, with tons of polar bear stuffed toys being thrown out onto the ice by fans, and Jungwon is one of them. You see him throw out polar bear after polar bear from the shopping bag he’s holding, and a sweet smile spreads across Jungwon’s lips as he sees your surprised face.

“16?” you mouth at him, and Jungwon nods. You can’t help but clap your hands over your mouth to hide your laughter, and as the announcer calls your name again, you skate into the middle of the rink, bowing once again before leaving.

Eventually, it is you, Jiwon and another skater named Kim Chaeyeon who get named to the Olympic team. 

Like how Jungwon bought 16 plushies for you during your free skate, you buy 17. It’s a funny coincidence how you both end up going to the same toy shop, and the shop assistant gives you a smile when you enter. “Could I get… 17 cat plushies?”

“This is for Yang Jungwon, right?”

“How’d you know?”

“He said the same thing when he came in yesterday to get 16 polar bear plushies for you,” she says, taking the toys and putting them into a basket. You have a nice conversation with her before you leave the shop with a large bag holding exactly 17 cat plushies. 

You notice multiple things when you’re in the audience. Jiwon has a stuffed animal of a tiger in her lap that she throws out onto the ice when Jongseob skates. She also gives you a look as if to tell you not to tease her about it. You also see tons of people holding cat plushies, ready to throw onto the ice after Jungwon skates, and you’re one of those people too. 

You also notice the passion Jungwon now has for skating. He commands the ice, moving fluidly across the rink – Jungwon is a phenomenal skater. Goosebumps rise up on your skin, and you don’t think any other skater has been able to convey emotions to the audience this effectively. 

Like you, Jungwon qualifies for a spot on the Olympic team. 

He gazes at you as you throw cat plushies onto the ice, and a fond smile spreads across his lips. “17?” he mouths at you, and you nod. 

Jungwon wonders if your heart’s beating as fast as his. 

Little does he know, it is. 

SIXTEEN. born to skate

Just being able to go to the Olympics is truly sensational.

You weren’t even able to fully process it until you saw a staff member walk up to you and hand you your Olympic security pass. Your name’s on it, along with the 2026 Milano Cortina logo on the right – and under your name, it says athlete. 

You can’t believe a security pass might actually make you burst into tears. 

Jungwon hangs his security pass over his neck, and then turns to look at you. “You okay?” he asks, and you nod. “Yeah,” you reply. “It’s just kind of crazy. I’m going to compete at the Olympics – Wonie, oh my god. I’m an Olympian.” 

“You are,” he says. He takes your hand, locking his fingers with yours and gives your hand a tight squeeze. The mere action makes your face feel hot, your heart beating in your chest incredibly fast. “You’ll do great, don’t worry.” 

“You will too,” you say, beaming at him. You don’t want him to let go of your hand. Jungwon doesn’t want to let go either. 

He only let go when Jongseob and Jiwon were walking towards you two. 

That aside, time seems to go by faster for some reason. You arrived in Italy 2 days before the men’s short program event, and today’s already the day. Jungwon changes into his costume, and zips on the South Korea team jacket before he leaves the changing room. 

“You ready?” you ask him.

“Yeah. I'm a little nervous, but it’ll go away when I start skating.” he replies, and you smile. “You’ve got this, Won.” you say, pulling him into a hug. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

Before he starts skating, Jungwon looks into the crowd to spot where you’re seated. You give him a thumbs up, and he smiles softly before getting into his starting position. 

Jungwon has missed the Olympic ice. 

In the crowd, you notice how Jungwon’s skating even better than he did at Nationals. He skates with  pure emotion – as if this skate could very well be his last. 

Then the realisation hits you like a truck. 

If Jungwon did decide to retire, sticking with his original plans – this would be his last competitive short program, ever. And now every move he makes on the ice seems to have a whole new meaning for you. 

He skates like he’s got everything on the line. Time and time again, Jungwon tells the audience that he was born to skate – but this performance proves it. Every jump, every spin, every transition, every choreo sequence and every step sequence is executed to absolute perfection. 

Yang Jungwon is a master of his craft. Nobody can doubt that. 

Nobody will doubt that after this performance.

Jungwon has sacrificed hours, days, months and years to produce a performance like this. He has never felt such fulfilment, such satisfaction after skating – the only word he can use to describe how he feels after his skate is that he is proud. 

He is proud that he was able to put out a performance like that. He is proud that he’ll be recognised for an impeccable short program. But most importantly, he is proud that he delivered a program of such quality whilst enjoying every moment he had on that Olympic ice. 

And when the scores are announced, saying that he is currently in first, Jungwon doesn’t think he’s ever felt happier. Irene hugs him tightly, and Jungwon’s practically shaking in disbelief. 

Nobody beats his short program score for the night. Jungwon knows the medal is just within his reach. 

Feeling victory finally feels good, and Jungwon hasn’t even won yet. 

When you rush up to him immediately after he exits his changing room, you wrap him in a huge hug, and at first, he’s startled by your action. But he immediately hugs you back, his cheeks dusted with a light shade of pink that he knows he’ll get teased about if Harua sees it. 

“Won, that was incredible!” you could gush over his performance for hours and hours on end. “You were absolutely mesmerising. The image you were painting inside my head – all of our heads! It was so vivid. I felt like I could feel what you felt as you were skating. Everyone was blown away. You’re absolutely sensational.”

Jungwon thinks of you in an incredibly high regard. So hearing these words from you makes his eyes well up slightly with tears, and you immediately notice. 

“Don’t cry!” you say, wrapping him in another hug. “I just needed you to know how incredible you are.” 

Jungwon needs you to know how incredible you are as well.

He feels nothing but warmth as he’s in your embrace, and truly, perhaps this is what Jungwon thinks he might call love. Because you care for him in a way that nobody else has. You didn’t know him well at the time, but still offered to try and get him to enjoy skating again. You push him to be a better skater, and a better person – and Jungwon didn’t think he knew what love was.

But now he thinks he does.

Quite simply, love is you. 

And he cares for you more than he cares about anyone else, even if he thinks that he is terrible at showing it. He isn’t the best when it comes to love, or relationships – but he’s learning. He’s learning all because of you. 

In less than one year, you have changed Jungwon’s life entirely.

You’ve taught him how to have fun skating again. You’ve taught him to allow himself to loosen up, and not let pressure define him. You’ve also taught him what it’s like to be loved. And how to love. 

Jungwon doesn’t know if this is a stretch, but he feels like you might’ve quite literally saved him. Jungwon is forever grateful for the fact that you walked into his life the moment he needed someone like you. 

And Jungwon is more than sure that he indeed does love you. 

Jungwon feels relief when he finally admits it to himself. Perhaps it’s because deep down, he knew that he loved you all this time – he just didn’t exactly confront himself about his feelings. 

With you by his side, Jungwon feels like an Olympic gold medalist already. 

SEVENTEEN. olympic ice

The free skate rolls around faster than Jungwon thought.

But he thinks that he’s prepared. He’ll give it his all tonight. He doesn’t even think about the upcoming decision he has to make about his career – he personally believes that the idea that he could possibly win Olympic gold feels a little more important than that.

He knows you’re in the crowd, watching him. It gives him an extra boost of confidence. Jungwon doesn’t realise this until now, but he seems to skate better when you’re in the audience. Perhaps you’re his lucky charm. 

He’s last to skate, being first in the short program. Jungwon’s fully focused during the couple minutes of warm up, jumping a triple axel that he manages to land well, and a quad toe that he finds is a little shaky on the landing, but he’ll try and land it cleanly in the actual program.

Over the speaker, it’s announced that the warmup time is over. Jungwon and some of the other skaters leave the ice, and the first person skating in the group starts his program. 

Whilst the other skater performs, Jungwon runs through his entire program in his head. He can’t let the pressure get to him – he knows he’ll do worse. He reminds himself to have fun. He’ll be skating on Olympic ice for possibly the last time ever, so he knows that he’ll have to make this count. 

Your words ring in his head as he waits for the skaters before him to finish performing their programs. Skating is something that is meant to be enjoyed with the audience. 

Jungwon decides that he will enjoy every minute and every second of it. 

Irene gives him a thumbs up before he skates out to the centre of the rink. “You’ve got this, Jungwon. Stay focused, stay calm.” she tells him, and Jungwon nods. 

“You go kill it out there.” she says, smiling at him.

Jungwon skates off, and Irene just has the proudest look on her face. She knows that this could very well be the last competitive skate of Jungwon’s life. No matter the result, she would be proud – Yang Jungwon has accomplished so much in his career at the age of 22. 

“Last to skate: Yang Jungwon, of South Korea!” 

The crowd erupts into cheers and applause, Jungwon raising his arms above his head. He lets them fall back down by his sides, doing a couple twizzles around the rink before skating into the centre.

He gets into his starting position, and the music starts. 

He’s done this program tons and tons of times before. He knows exactly what to do at the exact second, twirling across the ice gracefully. First, is the quad lutz. 

You hold your breath in anticipation as he sets up the jump, taking off – and he lands it. 

With one jump, Jungwon makes the crowd go absolutely crazy. Their shouts die down soon after, allowing Jungwon to listen to the music so he knows when and what he needs to do next. 

He successfully lands more jumps, including a quad salchow-quad toe loop combo that he’s able to land flawlessly. Everything is going well, Jungwon thinks. 

As he skates beautiful transitions on the ice, you catch his eye. You’re gazing right at him with the softest look on your face, and Jungwon thinks his heart might melt. You nod at him, as a way to tell him that he’s doing great.

Jungwon doesn’t know why, he doesn’t know how, but in the middle of his Olympic free skate, he feels more compelled to confess his feelings for you than ever. 

He knows that he just has to tell you. 

When he realised he liked you, he decided that he had to wait for the right time to confess. He didn’t exactly know when the right time would be, or if he would ever even find the right time. He also certainly didn’t expect it to be right in the middle of his free skate.

But everything is crystal clear. Jungwon knows it’s the right time, and he can’t exactly shout out that he loves you when he’s currently preparing to jump a triple axel, but he knows the second he’s able to, he will. 

It’s as if time slows, and you’re the only one in the audience. Jungwon only sees you. You two are just in your little bubble – just you, him, and the ice. 

Jungwon skates with so much power, and so much emotion, trying to express every word he wants to say to you, but with his skating. The crowd’s cheers get louder every time Jungwon lands a jump, and it only gives Jungwon motivation to keep getting better and better. 

Olympic gold is so close. If he just reached up and grabbed it, the shining gold plaque would be right in his hands – and Jungwon knows that he cannot let that slip away between his fingers. His whole life has led up to this moment. Falling in love with the ice, then finding that he had let himself hate it, and then trying to ignite that love and passion he had for skating once more. All of this, allowed for him to skate the cleanest program he’s ever skated at the world’s biggest stage for figure skating. 

The music ends, and the crowd erupts with cheers. Jungwon stands there, shocked and still in his ending position. He feels like he can’t move. 

He can’t believe it. 

Did he just win Olympic gold? 

Countless cat plushies fall onto the ice around him as Jungwon just bursts into tears. Irene’s crying as well, tears of joy streaming down on her face as she claps. Jungwon tries to spot you in the crowd, and when he does, he sees you jumping up and down excitedly with Jiwon, and you just look so incredibly happy for him. 

After the toughest years of his career, fighting to try and keep going in a sport he loved no longer, Jungwon is finally able to love figure skating again, and he might have just won Olympic gold in the process. 

He’s still in shock when he leaves the rink, and Irene pulls him into the tightest hug she’s ever given him, as Jungwon cries into her shoulder. “You did it.” she says.

“I did it.” he says – he can’t even believe the words he just said. He heads to the Kiss and Cry with Irene, pulling out tissues from his tissue box nonstop to wipe his tears away. 

Jungwon waits in the Kiss and Cry for his scores – he knows that he’s won. He just needs the scores to confirm it. 

And sure enough, mere minutes later, Yang Jungwon is announced as the 2026 men’s Olympic figure skating champion.

Jungwon can’t stop crying. Tears just keep falling down his cheeks as he bows to everyone. He can’t even use the word joy to describe what he’s feeling. He never thought he could feel this happy after winning a competition. 

If you told Jungwon months ago that he’d be crying tears of joy after winning a competition, he most certainly wouldn’t have believed you. 

The venue ceremony is soon. So soon to the point where Jungwon isn’t even able to come up to you and tell you how he feels. He’ll do it as soon as the ceremony is over. 

As Jungwon steps onto the highest block on the podium, he’s still in disbelief. It isn’t until the medal actually gets hung around his neck, and he touches the shiny golden plaque. He’s not just Olympian Yang Jungwon. He’s not just 2025 World champion Yang Jungwon. He’s not just 6 time National champion Yang Jungwon. 

Now, he’s also Olympic champion Yang Jungwon. 

Falling back in love with skating was hard. Sometimes he felt like simply just giving up was the easier option – but now with the Olympic gold medal right in his hands, Jungwon knows that pushing through it was the right thing to do. He’s never been more sure of that. 

Jungwon has also never been more sure about the fact that he loves you, and he desperately needs to tell you. As soon as the venue ceremony is over, Jungwon rushes out of the rink, quickly changing from his skates to his regular training shoes – he doesn’t even bother to change out of his free skate costume. 

He finds you standing outside of his changing room, and before you can say anything, he wraps you in the tightest hug ever. He holds you like you’re oxygen, and he’s struggling to breathe. 

When he pulls away from the hug, with the gold medal dangling around his neck, he grasps ahold of your hands. “Jungwon, you did it.” you say, tears welling in your eyes. 

“I have to tell you something.” he murmurs. He opens the door of his changing room, pulling you in with him as he shuts the door. “What is it?” you ask.

“I love you.” 

Your eyes widen. 

“I have never, ever known what it’s like to love someone. Even figuring out that I liked you was so hard – because I knew that I felt differently when I was around you, but I couldn’t exactly pinpoint it on what it was. Then, I was told I had a crush on you. I liked you. And that seemed right. Liking you seemed right.” he says, as you let his words sink in. “I was going to wait until I found the right time to tell you that I liked you. But two days ago, I realised that my feelings towards you seem to be more than like. Love. Yes. I love you.” he says, his eyes brimming with tears.

“Saying it sounds right. Saying it now feels right. And I don’t know if you would feel the same way – but I just saw you in the crowd as I was skating today, and I just knew I had to tell you.” 

Jungwon can’t exactly read your reaction until you pull him into a hug. 

“I love you too.” you say.

Jungwon feels like he’s on top of the world. Four simple words managed to make him even happier than he already was after winning the Olympics – he feels like his heart is about to burst at the seams, and he can’t hide the bright grin on his lips. 

“That’s… that’s nice. I was scared you wouldn’t feel the same,” Jungwon confesses, and you frown, cupping his cheeks as you wipe his tears away with the pad of your thumb. “Why wouldn’t I feel the same way, Jungwon?”

“I don’t know.”

You smile softly at him. “I realised that I liked you after we went to the ramen shop that Harua had suggested to us.” 

“You realised earlier than me, then.” Jungwon chuckles. 

“I guess so.”

Jungwon can’t believe he only just realised the close proximity between your faces. Your gaze travels to his lips, before you look back up at his eyes. “Can I kiss you?” you whisper. 

“Yeah,” Jungwon whispers back.

You lean in, connecting your lips with his, and warmth just blooms across Jungwon’s chest, his cheeks, and all the way to the tip of his ears. He can taste the mint flavoured lip balm that he always sees you put on, and it’s only when you pull away that Jungwon realises that it was his first kiss. 

You smile at him brightly, and Jungwon mirrors the expression on your face. It’s hard not to smile when he sees you – you just make him so incredibly happy. Jungwon knows that you make him happier than any Olympic gold ever would. 

The sweet moment is cut short when Jungwon’s whisked away to the press conference, and you tell him that you’ll be seated in the crowd to watch. He gives you a chaste kiss on the cheek before running off, his cheeks tinted bright red as you chuckle at his reaction. 

“How do you feel after a wildly successful season like this, Jungwon?” a reporter asks, and Jungwon thinks about what is the best way to answer his question. 

“This was… a tough season for me mentally.” he says into the microphone. “In all honesty, I fell out of love with figure skating quite some time ago. Going into this season, I was certain that I was going to retire after the Olympics.” 

Every single person in the room looks at him with wide eyes. 

“But, during the off season, I was lucky enough to meet someone who helped me start enjoying it again.” he says, looking directly at you. “They taught me that above all, I should be enjoying myself while I skate, instead of focusing on the pressures to win and do well.” 

“I don’t think I expected to do as well as I did all season,” Jungwon says earnestly. “But I realised that the more I enjoyed skating, the better I did. I think coming into the Olympics, I just tried to focus on having fun and showing the audience my best. Because of this, I think that’s why I was able to do well.” 

“So will this be your last competition?” 

Jungwon presses his lips together in a thin line, as if he’s still unsure about what decision he’s going to make. But when he locks eyes with you, it’s like everything clicks into place. He knows what he wants. He wants to skate. 

“It’s not my last competition,” he says. “I’m going to keep competing. At least for a little while longer. I realised that I can’t exactly let go of the ice this soon when I’ve just started loving it again.”

As he says that into the microphone, Jungwon knows that it’s the right call. There’s a proud smile on your lips, and Jungwon returns the gesture.   

The ice finally feels like home once more. But, Jungwon also realises that home is also wherever you are. 

#enhypenwriters #kflixnet #enhypennetwork #k-labels #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen scenarios #enhypen au #enhypen x reader #jungwon imagines #jungwon oneshots #jungwon fluff #jungwon angst #jungwon scenarios #jungwon au #jungwon x reader #⛸️ kiss and cry!

[allysunny]

(You're) My Antidote Pt. 2 | Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

ˡᵒᵛᵉˡʸ ᵐᶦᵍᵘᵉˡ ᵃʳᵗ ᵇʸ ᴷ⁵ⱽᵉʳˢᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵀʷᶦᵗᵗᵉʳ

ᵖᵃʳᵗ ¹ | ᵖᵃʳᵗ ² | ᵖᵃʳᵗ ³

Synopsys: It has been a few weeks ever since Miguel saw you glitch due to the antidote he'd given you. He's far too afraid to face you, and hasn't seen you in a while. Peter B. Parker talks some sense into his head, reminding him of what's truly important.

Words: 2.6k words

Warnings: Angst, fluff, exhausted-Miguel, but also very soft-Miguel, Peter B. being a great father and having actually good advice, pain and screaming, syringes, blood, untranslated Spanish (please correct me if any of it is wrong!). Do mention if I forgot something!

A/N: Hey everyone! So, I've finally gotten around to write Part 2 of this fic (I had nearly forgotten about it, so I'm very, very sorry for the delay), but here it is! I hope you all enjoy it, and I hope it was worth the wait!

“Miguel?”

The voice that called out to him was gentle, soft. The one voice he could listen to for hours and hours without ever getting tired.

Yours.

“Miggy… Wake up, my love…” He could feel your soft, deft fingers brushing his brown locks away from his face. You liked to get a good view of him at all times. You played with his hair for a while, and he hummed in satisfaction. He’d stay like this forever if he could, lost in your embrace and your touch, time suspended just for the two of you.

“Miggy, wake up… C’mon, we have things to do…”

No, all he had to do was stay in bed with you, while you ran your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp and making him forget about all his problems.

And then you tugged on his hair harder.

“Miguel?”

No Miggy? And why were you tugging on his hair so harshly? What was happening?

Ouch – that’d been a particularly hard tug. What the shock were you up to? It was far too early for you to be playing these sorts of games with him.

“Miguel? Miguel!”

Miguel’s eyes flashed open, and he blinked away the sleep.

Before him, was a red-haired baby, staring curiously at him, and back at her hand. Peter B. Parker quickly scooped her in his arms, talking to her in a soothing voice.

“C’mon Mayday, you’ve played with his hair enough. Let’s not hurt dad’s boss, alright? Give him a break.”

“¿Que coños estás haciendo aqui?” Miguel grumbled, running a hand through his now messy hair. It was bad enough he was asleep and not actually next to you but having mistaken Peter B.’s voice for yours annoyed him to no end.

“Jessica asked me to check up on you. According to her, you weren’t even supposed to be here.” Peter replied as his child climbed all over him and pointed her tiny web-shooters at the wall. “

“Yeah, well, I’m working. Not sure if you’re familiar with the concept,” he grumbled again, facing the monitors in front of him. Files and files and files on you, your health, your life, your family tree, his family tree, his DNA, just anything he could get his hands on. He’d fallen asleep on top of papers, each with a different combination of chemicals and elements, all of them experiments on a new antidote for you.

Failed experiments.

“I am familiar with the concept of work, Miguel, but it’d never occur to me to work myself to exhaustion while my wife suffered by herself at home.”

This seemed to get Miguel’s attention. Every single Spider-Person in the Society had warned Peter not to bother Miguel, and most importantly, to keep you off his mouth. Everyone knew what was happening to you at this point.

Pregnant with Miguel’s child, who was slowly killing you from the inside with 50% of his Spider DNA.

And everyone also knew that Miguel had been spending unhealthy amounts of time inside his office instead of at home, by your side. They were, of course, all far too scared to say something. He didn’t seem to budge, not to subtle pleas, not to direct asking. He was hellbent on finding a cure.

Miguel’s nostrils flared and he huffed, raising a finger, and pointing right at Peter’s face.

“This is none of your business, Parker.” He said through gritted teeth, anger evident in his eyes.

“Yeah? Well, I don’t care. You might not care about anyone’s lives other than hers, but I am a husband too. And I would ditch everything – and I mean everything – to be with her at a time like this. Especially if I knew… If I knew she might…”

Miguel slammed his hands down on his desk, the sound echoing through his office.

“Do not finish that sentence. Don’t you dare.” Although he was furious, his voice was nothing but a whisper, and tears threatened to spill from his eyes.

“Alright, I won’t. And then what, Miguel? Forget this. Go home to [Y/N]. She needs you right now.” Mayday crawled on her father’s arms once again, and he rocked her gently. “Think about how she must be feeling. Terrified, all by herself, without her husband by her side.”

Miguel’s shoulders hunched. He was usually a tower of a man. But right now? He felt as small as possible.

“I can’t go back home,” he whispered, shoulders shaking. “I can’t go back home without an antidote. How am I supposed to face her? How am I supposed to look her in the eyes and tell her, her supposed genius of a husband can’t find a cure to the child that’s killing her?” When Miguel turned to face Peter, he was crying, and his eyes were drowning in sorrow. “Her screams, Peter… No man should hear such screams come from his wife… And I’m failing her… I don’t know what to do…”

Peter was stumped.

He’d never seen the cold, apathetic, always professional leader of the Spider Society behave like this. Sure, he seemed to be heartless and a jerk, but he knew that when it came to you, Miguel was willing to hold the weight of the world in his shoulders.

And it seemed like right now, he was.

Peter placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Go home, Miguel. Go to her. You really think you’ll ever disappoint her? She knows how hard you’ve been working for her. Just… Go to her, alright? Before you can’t and you blame yourself for the rest of your life.”

Peter’s words did something to Miguel, and he felt his heart ache. Slowly he nodded.

“Thank you.” Nothing else needed to be said. Miguel wasn’t one for words, but Peter recognised the weight behind the ones he had just uttered.

Within seconds, a portal had been opened, and Mayday was happily waving at the man that walked through it.

The house was quiet. Almost too quiet, but he quickly picked up on the sound of the TV coming from your shared bedroom. He took off his shoes and made his way to the source of the noise.

If Miguel were speaking the truth, he’d say he was terrified. He had spent the past two weeks working non-stop to find a cure and had only checked on you three times.

He was dealing with a bunch of different emotions, all gut-wrenching in nature and far too difficult to understand. He didn’t want to see you like this, feeble, weak, laying down in bed as the baby growing inside of you sucked what little was left of your life. He wanted to remember you vibrant and full of life, full of colour and smiles.

He didn’t want you to see him like this either. Tired, exhausted, dishevelled. Dark bags under his eyes, oily hair that had seen better days. He’d been working non-stop for you.

He didn’t want to come home only to tell you he couldn’t find an antidote yet, that you’d have to suffer more. Couldn’t deal with the failure.

But (as much as he hated to admit it), Peter was right.

Although he wasn’t ready to accept defeat, he didn’t want to take the time he had with you for granted. Shock, he’d been doing far too much of that.

He approached your bedroom and his gaze settled on you, neatly tucked in your bed, hands rubbing soothing circles on your belly.

You looked pale. Fragile, He was afraid to even speak, should the quietest whisper tear you apart.

And still, you turned your head to face him, and the whole world lit up within your smile.

“MIggy!” You exclaimed and tried your best to sit up even straighter. You opened your arms for him, and, just like a moth to a flame, he was instantly drawn to you. He kneeled by your side and laid his head near your hands. Your fingers reached into his hair and massaged his scalp, just like you knew he liked.

“Lo siento…” he sobbed into the mattress, afraid to meet your eyes. “Lo siento tanto, cariño…”

“Shhhh…” you tutted, hands reaching to his jaw, so you could cup it and force him to look up. When he tries to look away, you grip his chin with whatever strength you have left, and he finally meets your eyes. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

“No, my love, I’m so sorry, I’ve been so focused – ”

“I know,” there were tears in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Miguel was always so strong for you. It was your turn to be the strong one. How ironic. “But you’re here. You’re with me. With him.”

“Him?” Miguel asked, looking at your belly.

“I just feel it.” You offered him a smile, and he tried his hardest to reciprocate, ignoring the ache in his chest. Ever since he’d seen you glitch, Miguel had been afraid to show even the smallest of smiles. He was afraid the smallest of joy he felt around you would be taken away just as quickly.

After the first time, he’d refused to give you any more of that godforsaken antidote. Still, there’d been aftershocks. The following days, he’d seen you glitch once or twice, but it eventually faded away with time. On one hand, he was glad.

On the other, it only made him worry more. The glitching was over.

But you were still in pain.

“Mind if I sit next to you?” he asked, taking your hand in his and kissing it.

“Only if you shower first. You reek of Spider Society, Miggy, and the sheets are clean.”

He smiled once again and did as you asked, hopping in the shower, and washing the exhaustion and grime of the day off him. When he was ready, he put on a pair of sweatpants and walked into the bedroom, relishing in the way your breath hitched as you looked at his bare torso.

“Necessitas algo, mi amor?” he asked, raising an eyebrow comically. You looked away, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. You’d been married for years, and he still had this effect on you.

“Yeah, for you to get under the covers with me right now. But put a shirt on - you’re distracting me from my show!” Miguel chuckled, and he was surprised at how long it’d been since he’d last heard it.

“What’re you watching?” he asked, lifting the covers so he could sit next to you. He did so gently, afraid to disturb your peace – and the baby inside of you that thank heavens was giving you some rest.

“Pasiones Entrelazadas,” you replied, leaning into him. His touch had you melting, and you pointed at the television in front of you. “Isabella was getting married to Luis, but his evil twin Diego kidnapped him and took his place, and now Isabella thinks Diego is Luis.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah, and Marisol, their mom, well, she’s totally on Diego’s side, because if it weren’t for Luis, Diego would be the heir to her ex-husband’s money.”

“And why doesn’t she like Luis? Isn’t he her son as well?” Miguel shook his head, trying to keep up with the plot of another of your wacky shows.

“Well, Luis is actually the son of another man.”

“¿Qué?!”

“So, Marisol actually slept with two men when she was younger. She was married to Xavier, this big CEO guy, but she’s a little slut so she was fooling around with Antonio on the side. Xavier found out and divorced her. She found out she was pregnant shortly after. Luis is Antonio’s son, but Diego is Xavier’s. And if it weren’t for Luis, Diego would be entitled to his father’s fortune.”

Miguel was too stunned to speak.

“[Y/N], mi amor, that makes no sense.”

“Shhhh – Isabella is about to sleep with Diego!” You shushed him again, gesturing with your hands to keep him quiet.

“How can they be twins and still – “

“Shhhhhhhh!”

Miguel sighed.

“Fine, fine. Let’s watch.”

And you did.

For about ten minutes, before you fell asleep on his shoulder – not a rare thing to happen.

With all the care in the world, Miguel eased you down, fetching your pillow and propping it against your belly in the way he knew provided most comfort. He leaned over your body and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek.

Perhaps all would be right. Perhaps you could endure this together, as long as you had each other. Perhaps, all would be okay.

These were Miguel’s thoughts as he drifted to sleep.

And then they were promptly interrupted by a loud, shrill scream, and the body next to him contorting in pain.

“Honey? Honey, I’m here!” He yelled, turning on the lights and sitting up to get a good look at you. You were sitting up as well, hands instinctively wrapped around your stomach. It’d become your priority after you got pregnant – the baby came first. Even if it was the very thing that was killing you.

Miguel could see you convulsing, limbs twitching and twitching, and you kept on screaming. He quickly sprinted towards his home office, opened a drawer on his desk and removed the (original) antidote and its gun, returning to your bedroom in the blink of an eye.

He basically threw himself on his knees next to you and grabbed your arm.

Once you realised what he was about to you, you tried prying your arm from him, crying loudly.

“No!” you screamed, tears streaming down your face. “P-Please! Don’t – Miggy, don –” your words were interrupted as another scream was ripped out of you. You fell flat on the bed as your body twitched, and Miguel had to try his best to keep himself under control. The woman he loved the most was suffering. She was convulsing and screaming some of the most blood-curdling, truly horrifying screams he’d ever heard. And yet, she was begging him not to use the antidote on her.

“My love, I’m so sorry… I have to…” he said, grabbing hold of your arm once again.

“No!” You sobbed, thrashing around the bed, silk sheets flying in every direction. “You’ll hurt him! God – no, please! Miggy, it hurts! Miggy, no –“ Another scream.

And another.

And another.

And another.

Miguel had two choices. He could stand by and watch as whatever was inside of you killed you. He could simply wait it out and watch as unimaginable pain consumed your every limb. He could wait and see what happens.

He could wait. And it’d be too late.

Shock it.

He did not need to think it twice. Miguel grabbed your arm and injected the antidote in your veins.

You were still in a matter of seconds, breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling with tears in your eyes.

“Miggy?” you whispered; voice nearly broken.

Miguel looked at you and slowly brushed the hair away from your sweaty forehead.

“I’m here, mi amor. I’m here,” he repeated these words over and over again, reassuring you with his voice.

“Miggy… I think…” your eyes teared up once more. “Miggy I… I peed myself…” You closed your eyes and cried silently, looking away from him, which made Miguel’s heart break. You’d gone through thick and thin together, and peeing yourself was going to make him think less of you?

“Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” Miguel got up and slowly peeled the bedsheets from you to reveal your exposed legs.

That’s when all the air was sucked out of his lungs.

You hadn’t peed your pants. Not at all.

That was blood.

A/N: And that's it! I hope you've all liked it, hehehe. I'm sorry if the show seemed real shitty - I used to watch telenovelas with my nana when I was younger, and I swear their plots were all like this. We'd then sit on her porch and discuss whatever wacky plot was going on this time. It was fun.

Anyways, I hope you all have an amazing day ahead!

Taglist

@tarjapearce , @estella-satn , @meganswife , @cold-blooded-girls , @marcswife21 , @edgycatx

I'm not very sure how to tag people, so in case this doesn't work, I'm sorry!!!

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara scenarios #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x f!reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #atsv x reader #atsv x you #across the spiderverse #miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse fanfiction #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse fanfiction

[azullumi]

“are we…” ; kazuha, ayato, alhaitham, & tartaglia

details — here on another agenda of listening to songs, reading the lyrics, realizes how it would sound so good on a fic, and boom! slapping it on a character i think would suit it; basically, songs and tropes as some genshin men

characters — alhaitham, ayato, kazuha, tartaglia (w/gender-neutral reader)

tags — a sprinkle of angst, some of them are out of character, nothing happy is going on (my life relates to it) ; headcanons/scenario

words — 1558

note — getting back to writing so sorry if this fic seems shitty, i’m trying to get my style back by reading the fics i wrote. also i’ll be mostly writing in lowercase now bcs i’m typing on my phone

waiting ; unrequited love — kazuha (bags by clairo)

“can you see me? i’m waiting for the right time.”

kazuha settles on a boundary between you two, standing close behind it, afraid to take a step and cross. and though he was a man who had no fears and wouldn’t let anything hold him back from attaining what he wants, he was scared of going past the boundary as if he would be treading the path of misery once he chooses to do so.

there is always the urge to touch you, the desire to feel your skin underneath his fingertips and unbeknownst to him, his hand would act on its own—he would reach out, his fingers stopping close to your skin before immediately taking his hand back once the realization of his actions had sunk inside his head: “what is it?” you have asked him upon noticing his actions and he could only shake his head before saying, “there’s something on your hair.”

he has this strong sense of denial whenever he does something for you or says something to you, reasoning the flowers that he gives from time to time as an act of friendship and appreciation or the poetry that he creates with you in mindbut he keeps hidden was just because you were too beautiful to not have your being expressed in words and written in poems—

—and every single day, in each morning that he wakes up, he strongly believes that his feelings for you had already dissipated into thin air as if it never existed in the place but only to see your stupid smile and mesmerizing eyes and having himself fall in love again. oh, the amount of times he convinces and tells himself that he’ll avoid you from then on only to have himself basking in your presence later on: “this is the last time,” he tells himself.

there are only two states he would end up in if he decides to go further the line, without you and with you, and he wasn’t stupid to not know that he’ll only have the former happen to him.

he would rather have you close to him and yearn for you despite being so near than the heartbreak and admiring you afar.

“it’s not like you’re in love with me or anything, right?”

toxic ; unhealthy relationships — alhaitham (cry by cigarettes after sex)

“saying you’d wait for me to stay, i know it hurts you.”

you don’t have a toxic relationship with alhaitham nor did you have a healthy one but instead it was miserable, simply one-sided. however, it wasn’t like that at first, he wasn’t like this at first when you two would decide to start over again and create a fresh new page of your love story only for it to end in the same way.

he was good, was great, was wonderful—was. you don’t even know how it got to this point. how did the gentle and sweet murmurs of love and compliments turn to endless shouting and fights at every chance you two get? alhaitham, despite already having raised his voice at you on several occasions, had never raised his hand at you but nevertheless, it doesn’t make anything less hurtful.

“let’s just stop this, i’m tired,” it was clear, it was obvious that the only solution for this wretchedness was to simply just stop and end everything, to cut yourself off him but it doesn’t seem to happen. alhaitham, who possesses such great knowledge and intelligence to know the answer to nearly every problem, never seems to understand that. moments of begging, of asking for forgiveness, for a chance that you always give him, that you always provide him outright, seemingly served and topped with the syrup of your tears and blood.

he only loves you when he’s about to lose you, you know that. you weren’t blind but perhaps you were dumb with that but he loves you then, right? if he really does love you at those moments, then perhaps he did love you right from the start and he just never realized it—it was an endless cycle of gaslighting and making a fool of yourself, finding the reason and making logic out of his actions and words.

it was hard to lose him, you were too used to his presence always guiding you, helping you, and encouraging you that the moment you lost him, you just never seemed to know anything—like a child that was just taken out of the womb, you knew nothing, even yourself. it was a clear fact that you were nothing without him and without you, he was nothing.

“what happened to us, alhaitham?”

convenience ; arranged marriage w/ one-sided feelings — ayato (you’re losing me by taylor swift)

“i wouldn’t marry me either, a pathological people pleaser.”

it was a marriage of convenience—oh, how you hated the word itself. it feels like a painful slap on your face whenever you hear it being used along with the word marriage, one that would leave a burning mark on your skin.

ayato tried to be a good husband, he tried, really. even when he would come home late, he would always have something to give you. despite not having that many conversations and seldomly seeing each other outside the dining room and bedroom, he would still treat you rather kindly and gently, even when you spend most of your nights alone in a bed that was too large for one, you never felt lonely (perhaps you do, you just don’t want to face it because then you’ll realize that your good husband wasn’t good at all); “i apologize, my dear. here, i bought you something on the way back.”

perhaps all of those acts of kindness and sweetness are his way of saying sorry but what’s there to say sorry for even? was it because he failed to arrive for dinner every time or was it just the whole marriage experience overall?

everything was built on convenience, the only time you two would talk to each other is when it’s needed and the conversation you two will have would end rather shortly and the only time he would touch you in a way that makes you feel loved and cherish—making love—is when it’s convenient for him; you were just never a priority, not anything of importance in his life.

what hurts even more is that ayato isn’t even doing any of this because of a boundary that you two had made but rather there was really nothing in between you two, nothing, not even a speck of dust could be found in the distance you two had.

ayato wasn’t even in a state of turmoil, he wasn’t in a position wherein he had to choose something, to sacrifice, to risk something, it’s just that you were there—you were convenient and not because he chose to choose you over anything else. you were easy to woo, easy to hold, easy to fool.

did he really lose you when he never even wanted you to be his in the first place?

“isn’t this convenient for the both of us?”

pleasure ; one-night stand turned to friends w/ benefits— childe/tartaglia (k. by cigarettes after sex)

“we had made love earlier that day with no strings attached, but i could tell that something had changed how you looked at me then.”

it was simply a relationship that was born out of pleasure; created with the foundation of desire, lust, and need. formed in a single night to escape the reality of the misery of your own lives and consistently being nurtured like a seed that was dropped into the soil and naturally taken care of by the rain and sun—it all seemed natural, him inviting you out for dinner, enjoying your time with his stupid jokes and flirty remarks that is luring you to another night of passion just to wake up with a note and a cold bed the next morning.

and there are times you wish to disappear from his life, to stop whatever you two have, and simply just release yourself from his grasp and though he also wishes for the same, childe always holds onto you so tightly as if he never wants you to leave, as if he always want you to stay even if he knows that he’s hurting you, even if you’re just hurting each other; somewhere deep inside his bones, in the crevices of his mind, he doesn’t wish to see you with someone else other than him despite the fact that he wants you to be happy; “stay with me,” he had told you as he kissed and held you.

but childe was a romantic, he always shower you praised in and out of the bed, he was sweet to you; a gentleman with his words and actions. he was lovely, so breathtaking, so poisonous and it wasn’t hard to love him. and he was well-aware of how your gaze seems to linger at him, how there’s something swirling and drowning in the depths of your eyes, and he was well-aware of what it was. and yet, he chooses to ignore it—was it for the good of himself? for you? either way, he can’t have himself falling.

had you known that night with him would end up in this way, you wouldn’t have taken his rough yet gentle hand on that night.

“what’s there for me to stay for?”

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin #genshin angst #genshin kazuha #kazuha x reader #genshin ayato #ayato x reader #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin x you #genshin headcanons #genshin impact x reader #azul.writes

[infamous-if]

we focus so much on the angst (which i love too!!) but can we get some fluffy facts about being in a relationship with the cast pretty please? 💕💕

Yes, I’m sort of ready for some fluff haha

Being in a relationship with

Seven: means a lot of mushiness. Seven is very free with their love. They will stare at you a lot and when you confront them they’ll just shrug and say “sorry you’re just so [insert compliment here].” Seven likes to take a lot of photos and expect songs written about you and many mixtapes. That’s how they communicate everything they feel: through mixtapes and songs. As I mentioned before, seven is also touchy, though it depends on MC’s comfort level, but their default is touching all the time. Always connected, as if permanently linked. Seven will always have at least one finger on you at all times 😭 they’re a clinger, like I said, they sort of act like a needy puppy who wants attention all the time. Pouty. Whining, but in an endearing way.

Orion: means romance in private. Orion is good with all the normal relationship stuff he just tends to cringe more over it LMSJSJS but in private, he is surprisingly romantic and sheepish? He’ll set up a whole five-course date and then play it off like “it was nothing” Orion is also someone who does a lot of things without thinking about it. He’ll buy something for MC and very casually say “this made me think of you so here” and while it may seem like it’s a big deal, it just comes naturally to him. He’s a bit possessive, but not an unhealthy amount? More in a protective way. What you saw in the demo during the interview is what Orion is like with a partner. In public he is a bit less affectionate, but in private there will be a lot of lingering touches, a lot more affection. Orion wouldn’t want to leave MC’s side, even if he doesn’t always vocalize it. He also gets a bit more reckless and loses that sort of “workaholic” habit of his (aka willing to ditch work to stay with MC.)

Victoria: mush, mush, mush. She’s super affectionate and loves PDA and everything that comes with romance. Victoria will shower her partner with constant love and support. She isn’t shy to express how much she misses someone, and will write long letters about how she feels. She wants to shout her love on the rooftops and is a bit clingy like Seven. She wants to be smothered and smothers in return. Hugging constantly; always has herself wrapped around her partner. Random kisses, random gifts. She will take her partner to every event. She does get a bit jealous but nothing too bad, especially considering her experience. She’s a very sweet lover who is proud of her partner.

Seb: Seb can be quite shy. His affection comes with a lot of hesitance and is not as loud, but sweet all the same. He likes to ask permission a lot (‘can I kiss you?’ ‘can I hold your hand?’) and is the type to pick out a flower from the grass and gift it to MC lol I can’t say much about Seb aside from the fact that he does sort of act like a young kid who is in his first stages of love. He questions himself often but there are moments of confidence that are surprising. He’s also protective like Orion, and likes to be entangled all the time (see: hugging from behind.) he’s more of a go-with-whatever-MC-is-doing type. If MC wants to get wild, he’ll get wild. If not, he’s okay with that too.

G: a lot of touching, a lot of kissing. G won’t care about anyone else in the room if you’re around. They won’t even pay any mind to anyone else. G’s love can be sort of intense in the sense that they aren’t shy about sharing how they don’t gaf about anyone else but you. They want to be on top of their partner all the time. Hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. They want to spend all their time together. All their free time goes to them. G will include them in every convo. They won’t want to do anything fun or new without their partner. They’ll talk about them all the time. Ask where they are, look for them constantly. Moan about how they just want to talk to them or see them. G will become insufferable once they are apart. Like some bratty child. G turns into a completely different person when they’re in love.

August: means August is always thinking of their partner’s well-being. Always by their side. August will send them links to songs and videos that remind them of them and casually boast their partner’s accomplishments to anyone who will listen. They kind of lose a bit of their coolness and get a bit dorky around people they like; fumbling over their words, turning clumsy, getting shy. They’ll get real embarrassed to talk about their feelings or get mushy but they’ll do it if it makes their partner happy. They’ll think of them often and just want to chat about everything. August will be an open book with the person they love. Nothing is off limits. They laugh more, become more open and make more jokes. August becomes very free in the presence of the one they like. They’re a very different person (like G.)

#inbox #infamous cast #fluff #the poly is both Vic and g together #though their dynamics sort of bounce off each other #you know I feel like they fit so well reading it over #g and Vic are opposites but when they’re in love it feels very much like two sides of the same coin #ha

[that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction]

Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?

Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction "?

Top 10 fics, in no particular order, (these are all complete, in English and most have just a touch of angst. Also there’s no smut, it’s just not something I enjoy reading)

things lost in the fire by earlgreylover98

ALTA fic In which Zuko isn't sure Ozai knows which side of his face he burnt off and it sends him spiraling, the gaang finds out about his scar. It's a super great one shot, 5,067 words

Drinking Buddies and Diaries by dove_dove

Good Omens fic where Muriel reads Aziraphel’s diaries and Crowley finds out some stuff about his angel. 31,115 words

The death song of arthur pendragon by hanyuism

Merlin fic, Orpheus and Eurydice but make it Merthur, the angst is amazing, 6,827 words

Two Feasts and a Bard by emerillon

Merlin fic, pure Mercelot fluff, completely destroyed me, I’ve reread this an unhealthy amount of times. 2,785 words

Possessed by Emrys by ooh_look_the_void

Merlin and Gaius tell Arthur that Emrys is a magical entity who possesses people to interact with the mortal realm so Merlin can use magic. It gets a bit out of control when Merlin isn’t the only one getting possessed by Emrys. 10/10 fic had me wheezing. 14,759 words. (You do need an account to read it but well worth it)

Kilgharrah Moves to Camelot by ticketyboo00

In which Kilgharrah learns to actually be a decent person, gets therapy and is surprisingly a good brother figure to Merlin. 55,918 words

i know why the birds sing your name by ironfamjam

Arthur is banished from Camelot, Merlin follows him, together they unite Albion and find a family along the way. It’s really cute, Merthur and background Gwencelot. I can’t remember if there were a few mild smut scenes but they were skipable I think. 113,376 words.

Merlin in disguise by Theroundbartable

5 Times Merlin disguised himself. And 1 time he stops hiding, Gwaine being Gwaine, Arthur being smitten, Merthur. 21,576 words.

For Want of a Nail by 0hHeyThereBigBadWolf

Fleeing from Essetir in the bloody beginnings of the Purge, Hunith finds herself on the doorstep of Leon’s family (Hunnith’s old friends) so Leon and Merlin are raised as brothers. Also needs an account to read, but one of my all time favourite fics 234,831 words

the cute guy next door (might be a villain) by Alesyira

Mha fic Shinsou is an underground, undercover pro hero trying to find a lead on a case that may or may not involve the socially awkward guy living next door, (Midoriya) Misunderstandings ensue

And shit that’s 10. I have so many more so let me know if you want any others. I’ve got a few Yuri on Ice fics, a lot more mha and toh, one or two Sasaki to Miyano, Seraph of the end and Sherlock fics. I’m still getting into Song of Achilles fics, but there’s a few of them and a few crossovers too.

And for my name, there’s a kinda long story behind it, but the short version is my grandad used to call me Nerdy or clever or anything like that, he always said being smart and working hard to be smart was the best thing a person could do and I really looked up to him as everything I wanted to be when I grew up. Then when I came online in lockdown during Covid, it was just a whim that stuck to go by Nerd, or ThatNerd on Ao3 but the user was taken so I added bits till I found something available. After he died, it became more sentimental but generally it was just a lockdown thing that stuck.

#bbc merlin #ao3 fanfic #fic rec #arthur pendragon #merlin #merlin emrys #merthur #mercelot #lancelot #leon the long suffering #sir leon #mha fanfiction #merlin fanfic #ask me anything #prince zuko #avatar the last airbender #katara #sokka #aang #toph beifong #good omens #muriel #crowley #aziraphale #shinsou hitoshi #izuku midoriya #mha

[dearest-painter]

I didn’t do anything wrong! PT.2

Summary: Y/N was just living their best life or as best as it can get as spider-man/women. Y/N misses their old friends but understands that they must be busy but once they go to a place that is filled with people wanting them as their child but also to write their story they get pissed off

TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship,abusive behavior,abusive relationship,Reader is Miles morals,Reader is tired and trying their best,very out of character characters,this is a series,Reader needs therapy,Reader will be forced into the spider society,I fuck up the movie a lot just so I can make this a bit more sense,Reader is forced to visit Spider society and be away from their actual family,Reader is paranoid and worried all the time now,this doesn’t completely go with the plot as it’ll be a bit different,Reader is mentioned to have selfed harmed because I wanna represent that more as I wanna show that everyone has had tough times even in wrong ways as I’ve selfed harmed in the past so this does mean a lot to me,Reader is basically forced to be around people they don’t want to be around,lots of this comes from me and @ablobwhowrites conversation about this AU, like the blob Bird and a future romantic relationship, I added the fact Reader plays soccer and was 6 years old to make Miguel feel bad, I want ANGST, people might be out of character,tell me if I need to add more

PT.1

You and Jessica finally went to the cafeteria area, you held her hand breathing very anxiously…everyone is scaring you. You don’t even trust Jessica your just pretend you do for your own safety! “Mrs.Drew I’m not hungry anymore, we can go back” “Look Y/N I know your scared but you need to eat so let’s go” “Please Mrs.Drew! I can eat later! Please!” Jessica sighed, she knew you were on the verge of crying but you were hungry and her child so she can’t let you go hungry.

She kept walking while holding your hand, no amount of pleading stopped her. Luckily..no one was there which calmed you a bit but you were still scared. She quickly got you food then sent you off to Therapist Spider-Man to hide. Knocking on his door you carefully went in, he looked up and wasn’t surprised to see you. “Jessica told me you’d be here. You can hide anywhere..don’t worry I won’t tell the others.” You nodded your head as you hid in a spot. You were eating but you still had tears in your eyes…why won’t they let you go home!? Why can’t you see your parents!?

Soon you finished your food and decided to take a nap, therapist spider-man seemed like a chill guy…maybe he can help you. You closed your eyes to tired to notice you were crying again as you drifted off. Therapist Spider-man sighed as he walked over to you and covered you with a dark colored blanket but also wiped your tears, he felt bad for you and knew you wanted to go home…he knows that feeling all to well. He sighed as he went back to his desk mumbling. “I should help that kid…their parents is what they need…not this fucking place or people, they need their real family….” That’s what he finally decided, to help you.

Miguel was pissed as no one could find you or Jessica until now as she was pulling up. “Did you find them!?” “No, I looked everywhere” Miguel could tell she was hiding something from him, if she was hiding where you were out he was going to be extra pissed. How dare she hide HIS child! He didn’t mean to body you when he first met you and he wants to apologize! “Jessica, tell me the damn truth…DID. YOU. FIND. THEM!?” Jessica has never seen Miguel so pissed and he wants to know where her darling child is kinda pisses her off! “I didn’t!” “If I find out your lying I’m going to make your life a living hell!”

Miguel let a annoyed yell as he kept looking for you, he needed to apologize to you. He needed to show that he’s a good dad, he needed his family back together. He met you before…he accidentally time traveled to when you were 6 which was Gabriella’s age. You were the sweetest thing, even showed him your bird that was basically a blob that you found at the laundry place.

He was crouching to your height. “Here you go mister! Your my friend now so have this sticker!” You or 6 year old you placed a cartoon spider sticker on his suit giggling, he smiled a bit. He felt so bad for harming you now that he sees the true you…you were wearing soccer gear that matched Gabriella’s own soccer team so that must mean that her old team exists here. “You play soccer?” “Mhm! Mama and Papa say I’m the best! I like being the goalie because I get to kick the ball away!” “Yeah, goalie seems like the best spot. Do you go out and kick the ball or are you just a goalie?” “I go out and kick the ball sometimes! I’m not that good at protecting the ball but Mama says it’s okay!” He ruffled your hair making you giggle even more…it sounded so cute. “Your mama’s right, your still learning and it’s okay” “Y/N! COME ON! WE GOTTA GO!”

“OKAY MAMA! Bye mister! I have to go to my soccer game! Have a nice day!” Six year old you waved goodbye as you ran towards your mother, Miguel watched. He felt empty again…he needed you as his child. He was a better dad by far, it was obvious your parents didn’t teach you stranger danger if you were so willing to talk to him! Miguel shook his head out of the flashback…he remembers why he’s looking for guy again, to be the dad you need.

#yandere #please don’t do this #obession #unhealthy #gn reader #yandere platonic #platonic yandere #I didn’t do anything wrong series #x gn reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #yandere spiderverse #yandere spider man across the spider verse #romantic yandere #part 2 of many #miles!reader

[forever-once-gone]

Love Me and Only Me (M)

Pairing: SoftYandere!Yoongi x Fem!Reader

Genre: Soft yandere au, Established relationship au, a lil angst, some fluff, a sprinkle of smut

Word Count: 7k

Summary: You’re late from work, and that has Yoongi thinking only the worst. Of course you can’t let your incredibly sweet boyfriend thinking all these things. Looks like you just have to prove your love to him in the way that he loves the most.

Content & Warnings: Female reader, yandere themes, unhealthy attachments, clingy insecure Yoongi, mentions of cheating (Yoongi thinks Y/n is cheating), SMUT, THIS IS VERY VULGER SO DON'T READ IF YOU'RE NOT INTO THIS SORT OF STUFF, explicit content, swearing, dom/sub implications, dom Y/n, sub Yoongi, both degradation (name calling and teasing) and praise lol, makeshift gags, oral (male receiving), female masturbation, penetration, orgasm denial, hair pulling (Y/n has a hand in Yoongi's hair throughout most of the smut scene lol), hickies, comforting through intercourse, petnames: love, my love, baby, sweetie, doll, etc, let me know if I should add anything else to the warnings or contents :)

Author’s Note: It’s been a while hasn’t it. Well, take this small fic as an apology. I just needed to write something, anything really so that I could get the juices running while I work on some longer ideas that I have. I also would like some of your input on what I should work on next so please read my note at the end :). This is the first time I'm writing smut so please take it easy on me lol. And let me know what you think! And as always, enjoy! 💕💕💕

The longer you took at work, the more Yoongi worried. He wanted to be good for you, stay at home quietly as he waited for you to finish your tasks, trusting that you’ll come home, but with each passing minute that you were late, the antsier he got. He wanted to trust you, be the good boyfriend that he knows you deserve, but you should have been home by now. Two hours, he’s been waiting on the couch for you to return. But with every tick of the clock on the wall, the crazier the ideas in his head got.

Maybe you got into a car crash. Or what if someone had kidnapped you from the company’s parking lot? You were a beautiful woman, any man would be entranced by you. Just like he was. 

So very beautiful.

An angel.

Glorious in every possible way.

Wait… but if you were so beautiful, it wouldn’t be hard for you to get close with another, right? What if… No! No, you wouldn’t. You love him. You’ve loved him for years now. You haven’t done anything like that before, so why would you now? He hasn’t given you any reason to do that. He’s been good! 

He got a job to help you with the household expenses when he noticed the darkening bags under your eyes last year. And even with this job that he has now, he still does all the chores and tasks around the house just like before; he hasn’t let it impact your life at all! He leaves after you in the mornings, so he can still get you ready for work like he used to. He comes back from his job an hour before you, just so he can freshen up and clean prior to you coming back home. He’s scheduled his hours around you, so no matter what, he can spend the most amount of time with you as possible. So he can give you all the love and care that you deserve. And of course, to keep the house orderly, just like you deserve.

But then again, you always told him that he didn’t have to do any of this. Like the angel you are, you would always insist on helping him with whatever chore he was doing, but with a lot of insistence and pouting from Yoongi’s end, you’d always end up sitting on the couch with a snack that he made in your hand while he continued his household tasks. Each time that he’d finish and finally sit beside you, you’d always greet him with a huffy attitude and the cold shoulder.

Maybe you didn’t like it when he forced you to relax while he was taking care of the house. What if you thought this was… disrespectful of your wishes. 

Oh no. What has he done? What if he was being rude to you. You know what’s best for the both of you, he knows that, but maybe when he was refusing to let you help, it just led to him looking rebellious in your eyes.

He couldn’t even blame you if you found a better, more obedient man. Someone who was more fitting for your love. Someone who could be the person that actually deserves you, unlike him with his insubordination. If anything, he’ll help you let the new man move into your house before leaving, if that’s what you want.

By now he’s curled up even further in his blanket, trying his hardest not to cry as he waits for you to show up with your new man. Silent tears making their way down his face and into the woolen fabric that he had pulled up to his chin.

In his silence, he heard the front door click open and your shuffling as you took off your shoes and jacket at the door.

“I’m home,” you sang out. “My love, where are you? Sweetie?” you called out as you ventured further into the house.

He wasn’t waiting for you by the door like he usually would be, and it was worrying. But then again, you had been held up for a few hours at work today, so you couldn’t expect him to stay standing by the door for you. He may have already had dinner and gone up for an early night.

Yet, through the dark living room, you could see a shadowy blob sitting at one end of the couch. The couch faced away from you, and you creeped up to it from behind, before wrapping your arms around the soft blob as delicately as possible.

“Yoonie,” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Are you awake?” When he remained silent, you let go of him and made your way around the couch to him. You expected to see his eyes closed, fast asleep, but instead you ended up staring right into his dark eyes. “Baby? So you are awake? Why are you sitting in the dark, love?”

Instead of answering you, he just examined your face and clothes looking for any proof of your infidelity. You hadn’t brought a man back home, but that didn’t mean he was in the clear yet. As he squinted his eyes through the dark, he could swear that he saw hickies and marks on your skin.

His silence only made you more nervous. Was he sick? Was he upset? You had to know what was troubling your boyfriend. “Love, are you alright?” You cupped his face in your right hand, lightly tracing his cheek with your thumb.

You expected him to melt into your touch, ever the sweetheart, but instead he whispered to you coldly, “you’re late.”

“Yeah, my love. Work ran late. Sorry, I should have texted you. Did you eat dinner already?” You continued stroking his face, hoping to ease whatever worries he had.

“You sure it was work?” He was now turned away from you, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you.

“Of course it was. We had to make some changes with our last project because of some fussy clients. Love,” you continued, “where is this coming from?” You moved into his line of sight, hoping to catch his eyes. But when you did, he had tears streaming down his face as he bit down on his lips to keep from making any noise. Nose sniffling and his fist coming out from his blanket cocoon to wipe at his face.

You let out a quiet gasp. Immediately, your hands flew to wipe away his tears. You shushed him, pulling him into your arms as you moved to sit on the couch. His blanketed form fell into you, his face pressed into your collarbones as he spoke incoherently into your skin. You tried to follow what he was saying, but you could only pick up a few words through his sobbing including: sorry, new boyfriend, hickies, chores, I’ll do better.

“Yoongi, Yoongi! Calm down! Baby, just calm down, I don’t get what you’re saying. Shhhhh, shhhhhhhh.” You rocked him in your arms, and slowly his sobs turned into sniffles until he had completely quieted down. He nuzzled further into your chest, and you held him tighter. 

“Love,” you started tentatively, “will you tell me what’s wrong?”

“You’re leaving me, aren’t you?” he asked from his place against you, not even bothering to look up at you.

You felt your breath hitch. Where did he get that idea from? “Wha—What? Yoongi, what do you mean? I’m not going to be leaving you. Why are you even asking me that?”

He sniffled, moving to wipe his nose. “You didn’t come home, so I thought—I thought you were… seeing someone else.”

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You pushed him away from you, though he whined at the sudden space between you two. “Yoongi… you thought I was cheating?” You didn’t know whether to be offended or to be concerned. But when Yoongi looked at you through the darkness with his large pleading eyes and pouting lips, you ended up going with the latter.

“I just thought, well, I just thought you were so late and taking so long, and you’re never late and I just thought about how I don’t give you enough time anymore even though I try to and then how sometimes I don’t listen to you when you want to help me around the house and then I thought about how you could do soooo much better and then… and then I couldn’t stop thinking about you leaving me for a better guy.” He had spat these words at you almost faster than you could process them.

Once he had let it all out, you allowed him to catch his breath before beginning to disassemble his insecurities one by one. But before any of that, you got up to turn on the light. This conversation wasn’t one that should be had in the dark. When you turned to him after flipping the lightswitch, you were able to properly see his face wrapped in his blanket for the first time that night. 

He had half-wiped trails of tears rolling down his cheeks from his sad, red eyes. His face was flushed from his sniffling and crying, his nose and cheeks a bright rosy colour that just brought out the redness in his eyes even more. His lips were swollen from where he’d been biting into them, and you swore that you could see some blood beading on his bottom lip too. And even though he looked the worse for wear, instead of being worried about himself, his eyes were locked on you. His body leaning forward from where he sat as if he was ready to get up and race into your arms again.

He didn’t seem concerned for himself at all, instead he looked pleadingly at you, as though you were his only distress. 

Your heart ached at the sight of him. You eased down beside him again, and even though it hurt you to do, when he started to move into your lap again, you stopped him. “My love, I think we should have a proper talk. Take off the blanket from around your head and sit up.”

He did what you asked. The blanket dropped down from around him. It pooled around his legs on the couch, and he remained in the center of it. You grabbed his warm hands from his lap, drawing his attention to your intertwined digits. “I was just late,” you reassured him. “I wasn’t meeting someone else. I wouldn’t dream of meeting someone else. Why would I when I have the most perfect boyfriend waiting at home for me?”

His round face flushed at your compliment. His eyebrows slightly raised in interest.

It was a good sign.

“Baby, you’ve been better to me than I deserve.” He opened his mouth to disagree, but you shot him a look before continuing. “No, I’m right, it’s way more than I deserve. You barely let me raise a finger around the house, you take care of all of my needs and wants. You always have my best interests at heart. I could never even think of leaving you. And yes, sometimes I wish that you’d let me help you too, but I wouldn’t ever leave you because of it. Never.”

You let go of one of his hands, moving to cup Yoongi’s face once again. This time, he did nuzzle into your palm like usual, as he kept his content gaze on you.

“I love you. I love you so much, and I could never leave you. Even if you decided one day to never do a single thing in this house again, if you wanted me to wait on you hand and foot—”

“I would never,” he interrupted, his expression hardened with resolve.

“—I would gladly do it for you,” you continued. “I know you often treat me like an angel that can do no wrong and ‘deserves only the best’ but you’ve got to remember that I’m only human. A human who loves you, and only you, Yoongi. Only you.” You leaned in closer to him. “So please,” you begged under your breath, “don’t think you’re not good enough for me or that I would leave you for someone else.”

Your lips brushed ever so slightly against his as you prepared to finish your declaration. 

His eyes had fluttered shut. His breath quickened. 

And then you did. “I love you, my love.”

Your lips met his. The hand you held tightened its grip on you as Yoongi shifted until he sat in your lap. The hand that you had against his cheek found its way to his hair, pushing it back from his face as you continued to kiss the love of your life. His desperation was clear through his kiss as he opened his mouth slightly to give you access to his mouth. His free hand latched onto your shoulder as he pressed his body closer and closer to you until his entire torso was glued to yours. He moaned as your tongue claimed him as your possession, swiping teasingly against his lips, and though you wanted to continue what you had started with him, when a metallic taste spread in your mouth, you separated yourself from his lips.

“Why’d you stop,” he whined, hardly leaning back from you.

“Baby, your lip is bleeding.”

His hand shot up from your shoulder to skim his bottom lip, “Is it a lot?”

“Not a lot, but we should probably still clean you up, my love. You’ve had a rough night.” Wrapping your arms around him, you heaved him up into your hold as you stood up.

Instantly Yoongi started thrashing in your embrace. “What?! Y/n angel, why are you carrying me?! Actually, how are you carrying me?! I can walk by myself!”

“Oh no you don’t, love. I’m taking care of you tonight. I was the reason that you were upset, right? Well then, I’m going to be the one who cleans you up afterwards. And as for how I’m carrying you,” you hummed in mock thinking, as you began to ascend the stairs. “Well, when you won’t allow me to help you clean the house or cook, let’s just say that I get a lot of time to hit the gym.”

He turned his head away from you shyly. Yoongi had to admit that being carried in your arms did something for him. To have an angel like you caring for him, he may as well already be in heaven. Therefore, he allowed himself to relax as you carried him to the master bedroom and then further into the ensuite bathroom. 

You placed him down onto the counter, before grabbing a face towel to moisten with warm water from the faucet. You then stepped back to him, Yoongi spreading his legs to allow you to stand between them. With the wet towel, you first wiped at his eyes. Melting away the dried tear tracks and sweat from his crying session. You tediously but gently swiped from his cheeks to his chin and to his neck, before moving to the dried blood on his lips.

“You need to stop biting your lips when you get nervous, Yoongi,” you told him, eyes flitting to his briefly before focusing back on the task at hand.

He knew that, after all you’d been telling him this throughout the many years you’ve been together, but old habits die hard. And even when he thinks he’s gotten over them, in times when he’s tense, it’s like all of his hard work to be better flies out the window.

“I’ll try,” Yoongi promises you.

Once you’ve gotten the blood off of his lips you press a kiss to the tip of his nose. You then move to grab some of his moisturizer from beside him and spread a generous amount over his puffy-from-crying skin. His eyes flutter shut at your feather-light touch, basking in his angel’s generosity. When your hands leave his face he turns to look at you, his legs swinging slightly off the counter, as he watches you put toothpaste onto his toothbrush.

“Oh no!”

You turn to him immediately. “What?”

“We didn’t have dinner! I had put it into the fridge since you were late and I thought we could eat together later, but then I completely forgot about it. I’ll warm some up for you right away.” He began to get down from the counter, but you stopped him by making your way back between his legs.

“Are you hungry, Yoongi?” you asked him.

He shook his head. Truthfully he had lost his appetite a long time ago when he had begun to imagine you with another man earlier that evening.

“I’m not either, love. I just want to take care of you. We can skip dinner for one night, it’s okay. We can just have it for lunch tomorrow, okay?”

He nodded. If that’s what you thought was best, he’d never disagree.

“Okay, open up.”

Yoongi allowed you to brush his teeth for him. As you did, his eyes roamed the expanse of your skin that he could see. He inspected your neck for hickies or marks, but your skin was clear. He felt his shoulders drop as some of his tension left him.

It was a bit odd for you since you’ve never brushed someone’s teeth before, but after seeing how distraught he was this evening, you wanted to love on him a little extra. Even if you had to figure things out, like brushing someone else’s teeth for them, along the way.

When you finished, you gave him a small cup of mouthwash and once he had gargled and spit it out into the sink, you carried him from the bathroom to your bed. You sat him down at his end, before venturing into his closet to get some clothes for him to change into. You found a pair of sleep shorts and a loose tank top that he loved to wear to sleep, and figured they would be good enough for him. When you went back to him, you found him sitting right where you left him, playing with his fingers before he looked up at you. He put out his hands to grab his clothes, but you pulled them away from his grasp.

“Let me.”

Yoongi flushed once again, but agreed nonetheless. You helped him out of his clothes before slipping on his night ones. The whole time, Yoongi refused to look you in the eyes, embarrassed by having you do all this for him. You just smiled at his cuteness. Pressing a kiss to his face between each step of the changing process.

“All done, love. Now lie down while I get ready, okay? I’ll only be a minute.” You gave him one last kiss on his lips before going to get ready yourself.

When you came out of the bathroom, you found Yoongi curled up in bed with his eyes closed, likely already asleep. It brought a smile to your face. He needed the rest.

You switched the lights off before going to your closet to change. Finally, you made your way to bed, crawling into the spot behind him. You reached out, wrapping your arm around his waist and pulling him flush against your front. Sleep always came easier for the both of you when he was in your embrace. You let out a deep breath against his nape, glad that you could finally rest with him.

You were nearly asleep when Yoongi began shifting, turning to face you. Fluttering your eyes open, you were met with Yoongi’s features cast with lines of light that had managed to escape through your curtains. His eyes were surprisingly wide considering you had thought he had been asleep.

“You’re awake, love?” you mumbled to him.

Yoongi nodded. He pushed your shoulders to move you onto your back, before slotting himself into the crook of your arm, half laying over your body, one of his legs thrown over your waist.

“Go to sleep, Yoonie.” You pressed a kiss to his temple. You closed your eyes, but then Yoongi was moving again. You felt his hips pressing into your thigh, slow deliberate movements rocking your body as he let out soft gasps into your skin. The feeling of his hard cock against you, began flooding your mind with every press.

“Yoongi?” you asked.

He looked up at you from his spot, a vulnerable look on his face. “You really won’t leave me right?”

“Of course not, love.”

He distanced himself from you, before moving to hover over you. Both of his arms held him up from their place on either side of your head. He closed the distance between you, giving you a timid kiss, before whispering, “prove it.”

It seemed that your boyfriend needed some more loving before bed, and you were more than happy to oblige.

Immediately you flipped the both of you over, your positions switched so now Yoongi was under you as you held yourself up above him. “I don’t think I quite understand what you want, love,” you teased. “Can you be more clear?” You began to mouth at his collarbones, leaving open mouthed kisses as you trailed up to his jaw. You kissed him, and he looked up at you with his rosy cheeks. You raised an eyebrow at him, sending him a smug smile. “I can’t help you if you don’t say it. Say it, my love.”

“Touch me, Y/n.” His voice filled with desire. “I need you.”

Grabbing his chin between your thumb and index finger, you asked, “are you forgetting something?”

“Please?” he begged.

“Good boy.” You smiled. Your lips immediately met his as his arms wrapped around your neck, pulling you closer to him. He stole the breath from your lungs as he refused to let you move even a millimeter away from him, as one of your hands roamed his body. You smoothed your fingers over his shoulder, down his chest, and then his abdomen, and then you began to draw your finger over the waistband of his shorts. He whined into your mouth, one of his hands coming down to grab at your wrist, trying to move it where he wanted it most. But before he could you instead grabbed his hand and held it against the pillow above his head.

“Someone’s impatient,” you laughed. “Let me take my time with you, love. I want to appreciate every part of your beautiful body. You’ll let me, won’t you? Let me use you like I please?”

“Yes, Y/n. Whatever you want, do whatever you want. I’m yours,” he professed into the air. His voice was breathy, his need oozing into his words and groans. The fact that his body was so clearly asking for more, yet he was still willing to take it slow for you lit some complex inside of you.  His compliance made you want to completely wreck him.

Truly what a good boy.

With a smile, you moved lower, until your face was over his stomach. You glanced up at him, just to meet his heated gaze as he looked down the bridge of his nose at you. His dark lashes hid his eyes. Fuck was he pretty.

You ran your hand along the hem of his tank top, before sliding your hand underneath. You drew shapes into his stomach with the tip of your finger, letting your fingers draw low, just enough to cause a hitch in his breath before you brought them back higher. When his whines grew quicker, more disheartened, you thought you should be a bit nicer.

“Pretty boy,” you cooed at him. “Is it okay if I…” your hand skirted down to the large bulge in his sleep shorts, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide his arousal, “...touch you down here?” You closed your fist around his dick, squeezing just barely.

A series of affirmations spewed between his slightly parted lips, his head falling back onto the pillow.

“Yeah?” you teased. “I’m not sure, I can’t really hear you. Is this okay? Does it feel good?” You couldn’t turn away from him, his sweet, lustful expression too delicious to miss for even a few seconds.

“Please! Yes, Y/n, so good. More, Y/n. More!” The words fell from his mouth in an incoherent mess, followed by more and more pleas for you to stop your teasing and do more. His hips raised to urge you to tighten your hold on him. 

More.

He needed more.

You pulled your hand away. “What did I tell you?” you demanded.

But he was too out of it to think back. It was insane how little you had to do to rile Yoongi up. He was so much more sensitive and responsive than any of your past partners. Even now, just from some simple palming and kisses he was out of his mind with pleasure. Sometimes you worried that he was faking it, but with his cute sounds and fucked out expression paired with his adorable behaviour once you’re doing your aftercare with him guaranteed that he was as truthful as he was beautiful.

“I–I can’t remember. Y/n, please.” He begged, his lips pouting. “I need more.”

“I told you to take what I give you.” He looked up at you with a hint of nervousness. “While I love your begging, that’s not what I want today.”

What were you gonna do? Would this lead to a punishment? Yoongi thought.

“Even though you’re not following orders today, I’m feeling nice so I’ll let you off easy.”

Yoongi let out a sigh of relief. But he had to admit that a part of him was disappointed.

“But!” You directed his attention back to you from his brief moment of consolation. “That doesn’t mean that I’ll let you continue. If you can’t keep your slutty little pleas to yourself, then I’ll make you.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened as you pulled the front of his tank top up his chest and stuffed the bunched fabric into his mouth.

Not the best gag, you thought. But, it’ll have to do. “Good. Now, I don’t want to hear a sound from you unless it’s one of your charming little moans. Do you understand?”

Yoongi agreed with a nod.

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his sweat beaded forehead before making your way back down to his cock. You noticed as you took him into your hands that it was even harder than before, and when you pulled down his shorts just enough for it to jump free you saw a good amount of precum on his pink tip.

You smirked up at your boyfriend. “Somebody really liked me gagging them, huh?” you asked with a chuckle, your laugh only getting louder as his eyes shot away from you in embarrassment. “Awww,” you cooed with a fake pout. “Don’t be shy now, I know how much you like a little manhandling. What a filthy whore.”

Yoongi’s cock jumped at your words, leading to it brushing briefly against your lips. “Wow, look at that Yoongi, even if you deny it, your cock loves to let me know how salaciously you crave humiliation.” You gave a slow lick to the head, allowing him to see the precum gather on the tip of your tongue. “Isn’t that right?”

Yoongi could only moan into the fabric, eyelids flickering from the pleasure of finally having you give him what he wants.

“I don’t even need to hear your words, your muffled moans are telling enough.”

And with that you engulfed him into your mouth, taking in as much as you could all at once. Yoongi’s hips jutted up from the bed, pushing himself deeper down your throat. The slightly salty taste of his precum coating your tongue as you began bobbing your head. Your eyes rolled back into your skull as the slightly painful feeling of his  dick hitting the back of your throat became more and more intense. You swirled your tongue around his tip every time he would pull almost entirely out of your mouth, each time leading to his hips humping into your mouth again.

Though your eyes began to get blurry from the reflex tears, the sight of Yoongi grunting into his makeshift gag with every twist of your tongue or when you hollowed your cheeks still made heat surge through your body. The heat reached its destination deep inside of you. You could feel your arousal begin to seep out of you and coat your soiled panties. The picture perfect view you had of Yoongi with beams of light illuminating his face twisted in pleasure made your arousal even worse.

You couldn’t take it anymore, and so you snuck your hands into your shorts and then your underwear and began to rub tight circles into your clit. You could feel the coil inside of you tighten with each turn of your fingers.

And Yoongi? Well, your new moans of self-indulgence added a whole new level to his senses. The vibrations of your groans of pleasure around his cock was toe-curling and almost too much for him to handle. His hands flew to your head, threading themselves through your locks and guiding you up and down his dick. He wished you’d allow him to let you know how good you were making him feel, but the gag reduced him to a slobbering mess, the only way for him to show his content with his subdued whimpers and groans.

Through the noises of the messy blowjob you were giving him, he could still hear the sounds of your wet pussy as you dragged your fingers through your slit for a second before focusing back on your clit. He could hear your arousal and he wished that he was pumping in and out of your pussy right now instead of your mouth. He loved your mouth, don’t get him wrong, but seeing you take him inside of you sent his neurons a different sort of high.

Still in this moment, he could feel himself getting close to his end, a few more pumps and a few more licks of your tongue against the veins of his cock and he’d be gone, coating your throat with his seed. He couldn’t wait to see you take every drop that he gave you, already imagining how you’d throw open your mouth to show the mess he’d made before swallowing his load. The thought made him speed up his thrusts, fingers pulling at your hair, his tongue itching to hang out of his mouth in satisfaction but the gag stopped him before he could.

Yoongi squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for the tightness in his body to snap, when you pulled yourself off of him with a pop. His sobs were instantaneous, the pain of the release that was stolen from him causing him to look at you with tears streaming down his face. He would have asked why, but in his current predicament the most he could do was cry as he searched your face for an explanation.

And luckily you did. “If you thought you’d get to cum anywhere other than inside my pussy, you really must be an idiot.” Your eyes flashed as you began to fully and properly take off his shorts from where they were bunched around his thighs, throwing them somewhere off the bed. “Like I’d ever waste even a bead of your cum.” You pulled up your top, revealing your beautiful tits. 

His hand moved on his own to grab one of them, as you pulled off your shorts and panties. His fingers pinched at your nipple shyly, hoping that you wouldn’t smack his hand away. Fortunately, you were too busy with your clothes to care. Besides, if it made your doll happy, why would you ever stop him?

“I bet,” you started again, “if it was up to you, though, you’d let anyone take your load, hmm?” You met his eyes, daring him to agree. “Isn’t that right, my corrupted doll? A fucked-out pillow prince like you wouldn’t care where or even who was the one coated in his ejaculation, would he?” You climbed up his body until you were face-to-face with him. “You would let anyone take you if it meant you got your release, wouldn’t you?”

Yoongi shook his head, yelling disagreements into his gag that he would never. You were the only one for him. In his mind, he doubted he would even be able to reach his end with anyone else.

A sly grin adorned your face as your beautiful boyfriend let you know how much he craved you, not that you could understand him through his gag. How only you could ever make him the subservient way that he was now. Only you. It would only ever be you.

You scoffed, though with a hint of pride, as your doll quieted down to hear what you had to say. “Then again,” you drawled. “My Yoonie loves me too much to do anything of that sort, right?”

He nodded enthusiastically, happy chirps being heard through his gag.

“That’s what I thought.” Your confidence poured out of you, filling the air around the two. Fuck, Yoongi loved seeing you all prideful like this. It made him so happy to know that his adoration for you was one of the—if not the—major sources of your hubris.

This was the only way he wanted to see you. Filled with confidence and lust for him.

“Lucky for you, my dear. I love you too.”

He could have cum right then and there.

“I mean of course I do, after all, look at what you’ve made me do to my panties.” You brought out the lacy black panties that you had been wearing in front of his face. You showed him the translucent slick that had soaked through the fabric, making the dark fabric even darker. 

“Better yet, why don’t you get a good look at the source.” You scooted up over his body, until you were kneeling over his face. “Uh uh uh, don't look away!” You grabbed him by the hair and forced his bashful eyes to meet your wet slit. 

You noticed how he attempted to move out of your grasp and close the gap between his face and your pussy. 

“Does pretty boy want a taste?” You brushed your fingers soothingly through his hair, letting him relax before you moved to what you wanted to do next and to give him a chance to back out if he was feeling overwhelmed in any way and didn’t want to continue.

Yoongi agreed through his gag, and though it was a bit hard to understand what he was saying, with a few more approvals from him you were sure.

“Okay then, we can’t deny my love any longer now, can we?” You pulled the tank top out of his mouth, noting just how soaked it was with spit. When you raised an eyebrow at Yoongi in question he only managed to shrink down into himself. You just laughed it off while noting just how fortuitous you were to land yourself such a captivating man.

Even though he was feeling a bit sheepish now, he still understood your cue to lift himself up for a second to allow you to fully remove his besmirched top. And as soon as you helped him lay back down, he moved eagerly forward to latch onto your clit, but you pulled him back by the hair before he got the chance. 

“Did I say you’d get a taste directly?” you inquired, but not waiting for an answer you continued, “No, I didn’t. You don’t get that luxury since you decided to doubt my loyalty to you today.”

He looked up at you with sad puppy eyes. You were always weak for the innocent looks he’d give you, you doubted he even understood how much control he even had over you with his sad eyes and sulking frown.

In lieu of letting him get a taste from you in the way he wanted, you dragged two fingers along your slit and then brought them to his lips. You tapped on them twice. “Open.”

As soon as he had given you a small gap between his lips, you thrusted your fingers into his mouth. His tongue came out to clean your fingers, eyes half lidded as he looked up at you with a long gone look on his face. His mind raced, glad you were nice enough to let him be blessed with your wonderful taste despite his hiccup in his faith in you.

“Taste good, love?”

“Magical,” Yoongi replied, from around your fingers.

“Okay that’s enough.” You pulled away from him, giving him a pat on the cheek before moving to straddle him properly. You faced him while you settled down on his crotch, causing Yoongi to hiss through his teeth at the feel of your warmth against him. The sound brought your attention back to his open mouth.

“Oh, almost forgot!” You reached for your sodden panties from beside the two of you and shoved it back past his lips. “There we go,” you said cheerfully.

Yoongi would have protested what was the second gag now, but with your taste filling his mouth again, he was more than happy to mollify his momentary discontent.

“Now,” you said. “Let’s see how long it takes before I make you cum.” You began grinding your core against his dick, both of you moaning out at the gratification that emanated throughout your body. As you continued to move your hips against his, you leaned forward to press kisses against his chest, leaving marks that were sure to bruise by the morning on his velvety skin.

The hickies paired with the sensation of your pussy spreading its wetness over his entire shaft caused his pelvis to begin to rise and fall in tune with your motions. His hands coming up to guide your hips, gripping on your love handles tightly.

The sudden change caused his cock to press just right against your clit, washing you with thrill. Both your moans and his groans into your panties echoed around the otherwise quiet room.

“Yoongi,” you gasped. “You’re making me feel so good. Such a good boy you are.” You moaned up towards the ceiling with your head thrown back. “Put it in, my love. I want you to put it in now.”

Those were the words he was waiting for. He lifted you up from his hips, before positioning his cock up. He drew his cock through the sticky mess between your thighs and then eased his tip into you. Both of your whines harmonized as you slowly sat down on him.

You wiped some of the sweat from Yoongi’s forehead, and then you started to rise slowly up before slamming back down onto him. And then you did it again, and again, until you were bouncing on his cock with your head thrown back in content. The feeling of him drilling into you from below caused your walls to tighten around him, consequentially drawing him deeper into you.

Yoongi babbled into the gag, his hands reaching around your hips to grip your ass. His fingers were bound to leave marks. You glanced down at him, and noticed him watching your boobs rise and fall intently almost as though he was in a trance.

You reached down to grip at the roots of his hair again. “Yoon,” you cried, “You make me feel so good! So fucking good. So perfect, so fucking perfect just for me. Always so good for me, fuck—do I make you feel good too?”

Yoongi mewled, his heated expression and moans a great response, but you wanted to hear him say it. You pulled the panties out of his mouth, releasing his pretty noises to bless your ears.

“Tell me, pretty boy,” you called to him through his hazy mind. “How do I make you feel?”

“Good!” he screamed out.

“Just good?” you asked, moving even faster now, the sound of your ass meeting his thighs getting louder and louder.

“Amazing!” he clarified. “The best! You’re the best ever! No one can make me feel like you do. I love you! I love you! I love you!” He continued to profess his love to you. As if it was the only thing his mind could think of with his dick deep in you.

“Damn fucking right you do!” Your chest swelled with pride, a new energy filling your system. Your movements got faster, your hand moving to twist one of your nipples. “Are you close, pretty boy?”

“Yes,” he stammered. “Let me cum, Y/n. Please! I–I can’t hold it any longer!” Tears streamed down his face, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Yes, baby!” you said. “Let out! Cum for me, baby boy. Cum with me.” Your hand went down from your breast to rub at your clit, and together the both of you reached your climax. Through the pleasure, you registered Yoongi declaring his love for you in between low groans. Your walls clenched around him, milking every last bit out of him, as you continued to ride him through his orgasm, prolonging yours with it.

When the feeling washed over you, you collapsed on top of Yoongi, too exhausted to even pull yourself off of him and his cock. You felt him shift until he could pull out of you with a wince of overstimulation, his ejaculation slowly spilling out with it. You panted against him, your cheek pressed against his chest. You felt his hands rub up and down your back as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you.” you whispered.

“I love you, too,” he replied.

“I would never leave you, love.”

“I know.”

“I’m glad,” you nuzzled deeper into his chest. “And don’t you ever forget it again.”

You felt him nod against the top of your head, his chin resting on you. 

“I should clean you up,” you told him.

You began to ease yourself out of his arms, but he just pulled you back down against him. “No, wait! Just let me hold you first.”

Who were you to deny the love of your life. And so you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to rest with the man you want to spend eternity with.

Okay, so that's that lol. This is my first time writing smut so please let me know what you think :) Also, I know I said pretty boy and good boy a lot in this fic... but like I love good, pretty boys and they deserve to be praised 😤 Okay, but jokes aside, I'm like very bad at smut so go easy on me, okay?

And now, for the questions I wanted to ask you for my next fic(s). I wanted to know which one you'd like to see me work on first. Send me an ask or a comment on what you prefer, please, it would help me focus on one story a lot better. I don't want to give too much away for the plot so just let me know what you find most intriguing.

Here are a few options:

Yandere!StalkerFan!Hoseok x Youtuber!Reader. Reader will be gender neutral.

Yandere!Taehyung x Reader x Yandere!Demon!Jimin. Reader will be gender neutral. This will be a poly fic.

Yandere!BestFriend!Yoongi x DaycareOwner!Fem!Reader. This fic would feature Hobi, and there would be mentions of pregnancy and children in this (nothing weird, I promise)

Yandere!Seokjin x gn!reader, Fuckboi!Jimin x gn!reader. This would be a yandere jin fic but feature jimin. It would have a lot of jealousy and be set in a uni setting.

Please do let me know what you'd be interested in seeing. And if you have any other ideas or thoughts, please do feel free to share. If I get no responses, I'll probably work on the Hoseok fic next. Idk, it's just calling to me lol. I just want to write for Hobi since I haven't done that yet.

Anyway, have a good day!! 💕💕💕

#yandere yoongi x reader #yandere yoongi #yandere bts #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #bts smut #yandere bts x reader #bts yandere #min yoongi x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere x reader #soft yandere #yoongi angst #Ev's writing #Ev's yoon fic #fic: love me and only me

[ironunderstands]

help I have been afflicted by Boothill brainrot time to share some shitty angst bulletpoints with the class (that I’ll probably turn into a fic later)

I don’t think I have to tag anything specific but be warned there’s probably something bad in here so if you understandably don’t wanna read that then scroll. Expect cyborg related angst (and minor spoilers)

Also I hc Boothill as nonbinary (using he/they and occasionally she) so if you’re wondering about the use of multiple pronouns that’s why, it’s not related to the angst, I just don’t want people to be confused.

-has a sensation of touch on the metal parts of his body, but it’s visibly muted compared to his skin and it drives them nuts

-despises hot/cold temperatures due to how they interact with the metal parts of their body, on especially hot days

-very vulnerable to hacking and it scares the shit out of him (thanks past obsession with Genji for giving me this one, the amount of “Sombra hacks Genji and he has a bad time” stuff I have read is unhealthy, even if she would only do it for the shits and giggles or a mission, a character losing control of their body is unfortunately very compelling please don’t cancel me)

-can’t remember their past life or how he died but still has nightmares of it

-phantom pain is a bitch and her name is Boothill

-won’t be seen as human by most people (even actual people write him this way which is a little weird to me, like I know the Robot/Human tag w Boothill serving as a Robot is probably just for reach, but like, he’s still human, he’s not a robot, he’s a cyborg, idk it’s just a pet peeve of mine)

-has to go to the scientist who made him to get “upgrades” (aka whatever they feel like fucking with this week) against their will

-he can’t remember his old life, but they can remember how their body felt back then and the cyborg one distinctly Doesn’t Feel The Same

-Boothill’s synesthesia beacon doesn’t just prevent Boothill from cursing, it prevents her from saying certain things entirely which makes it very hard for him to express his feelings

-charging induces sleep for them, something which Boothill tries to hide as it could be used against him

-debating between making Boothill unreasonable heavy (because metal) or unreasonably light (because high tech) both scenarios cause problems for him, feel free to torture yourself for as to why

-animals (especially dogs) don’t like them as Boothill doesn’t have as strong a scent nor the flesh of other humans which is why it’s hard for them to trust him, which sucks for Boothill because he loves animals

-doesn’t even know the planet they were originally from or how old he was when he died, Boothill doesn’t even know their birthday, so it ended up becoming the day he was brought back to life against his will

-gets called “it” by people who don’t like cyborgs or people that are non-organic/have nonorganic parts of their body/existence, I also share this for the trailblazer because of their dubious origins, I’d like to believe transphobia isn’t a thing in Star rail because it’s already tiring enough irl and there’s no proof for it unlike other real world problems, so the misgendering happens for other horrible reasons! Horrible reasons that are close to canon considering the whole organic/inorganic war thing depicted by the Sim Uni, I’d imagine a lot of people are still bitter about that (honestly I don’t know the details I was there for the jades) and/or ignorant enough to believe that only fleshy beings have a monopoly on personhood (it/its pronouns are cool but not on people who don’t want to use them!)

-constantly pushes the limits of their body (aka self destructive behavior), I doubt Boothill would be trying to hurt herself but it’s more of a “it will get fixed anyway” kinda thing, any injuries sustained still hurt like a bitch but Boothill forces himself to not care because well “it’s his job and he will get healed anyways” (also it’s implied from their LC that he’s a Galaxy ranger against his will from the whole “never living for themself again” thing, so Boothill probably has to get injured for the job and is just forced to grin and bear it

alright that’s all the angst my sleep deprived brain could cook up for now if I did something wrong or missed a tag pls tell me

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr boothill #boothill hsr #angst #tw body dysmorphia #tw medical trauma #tw self h4rm #tw self destructive behavior #hopefully that covers everything if I missed a tag please tell me

[animentality]

(Leaps in askbox now its clear) Howdy! I'm curious about your opinions on the companions, like initial thoughts and now that you've clocked in an unhealthy (affectionate) amount of hours? We know what you'd change but how about everyone as is? Thanks!

Alrighty, I can finally answer this one...

Ok.

Man. This is gonna be a long one.

We're gonna start with the shorter opinions first.

Minthara:

I have not done a run where Minthara was alive in Act 2. I literally know almost nothing about her.

I think she's hot and has the sexiest voice of all the female characters, but I know nothing about her story, other than she was a lesbian with Orin. I do wanna try and romance her, but.

Who knows if I'll ever get around to it.

Minsc:

I get that he's a fan favorite from the old games, but I kind of hate him. He feels like fanservice, and I didn't get a nostalgia boner for him, so he does nothing for me as a character.

I honestly kill him. Not out of malice, just more out of, why even have him be here?

Plus I tend to go through the entire game without swapping my party members, because I'm pretending it's a real dnd campaign.

And I ain't changing my team comp for this weirdo who only shows up at the very end.

Sorry to his hamster when I kill him, though.

Jaheira:

She's ok. I don't hate her, but she doesn't do it for me. I don't get why she's Russian. And apparently the only Russian in the whole game.

She also feels like fanservice.

Plus she fucking drops ice storms on everyone's goddamn HEADS when they're already in Hunger of Hadar, and honestly?

We have beef. I let her die sometimes, for that crime specifically. I also skip her house, because it doesn't have good loot, besides the scimitars, and I don't play races or classes that use scimitars. like ever.

Halsin:

I like Halsin generally, he's inoffensive to me, but his "romance" is so bad. It's shallow, it feels tacked on, which it was, and everyone knows how much I HATE how little his sexual trauma is focused on.

I romanced him twice, and both times, I was underwhelmed and kind of shrugged him off.

He should just be a fling option like Mizora. He shouldn't have become a "romance" option. It's fine for him to be a big buff bear hippie that you can fuck, but a companion?

He's got nothing to do with Act 3. It's a detriment to his character and the game, tbh.

Ok, that's the smaller ones out of the way. Now mains:

Astarion:

I got into BG3 for Astarion.

I fully admit it. I saw a scene of him screaming at Tav for blasting him with the sun beam from the githyanki creche, and it was funny as fuck.

Neil Newbon is highly charismatic, and truly elevates a character I don't find that physically attractive. His personality and enthusiasm shine through, and his voice acting is superb. And I am a sucker for angst and redemption and themes of abuse and breaking free of toxic relationships. And darkly, I admit. I do like the more twisted nature of his backstory, the way he had to use his body to survive, has a bad relationship with sex, and was tortured repeatedly. As anyone who reads my writing knows...I am a disgusting sadistic pervert.

That being said.

I no longer like Astarion. Well. No. I like Astarion.

I don't like his fans, or his rhetoric. Astarion has the better writing of BG3, but the lack of nuance from his fans annoys the shit out of me, and overexposure to him as a character, since Tumblr and TikTok are obsessed with him?

No me gusta. I don't hate him as a character, but I can't stand to see Astarion is so perfect posts. He's not, and that's the whole point. He's awful, but you people don't appreciate that. I don't want to see Astarion x Tav headcanons. And I especially do not care about the BookTok crowd being obsessed with him because they just like a dommy vampire, and disrespect his narrative with absolutely no self awareness.

BookTok Astarion is SO GODDAMN BORING. They really just reduce him to a hot dommy vampire daddy, and that's why I never take BookTok recs. Pure garbage.

So. TL;DR - I got BG3 for him, but overexposure to his fans made me be significantly less interested in him. It's a good thing. If I was obsessed with Astarion, I'd be forced to interact with his fans. Thank god for Gortash... I'm free of that prison.

Lae'zel:

I loved Lae'zel the minute she was mean to me.

She's hot as fuck, like seriously, so hot, her neck makes me sweat something fierce, and her voice is sultry and raspy and hostile. just how i like my women.

But I admit...she's too fucking meta. gameplay wise, she's probably the strongest companion you can have for DPS...so I admit...I've had her on my teams so much, that I am sick of her.

And again! It's not because she's badly written. I actually think her character is really strong, and really awesome. I also think her arc is amazing, going from this devoted cult member to basically saying I'm going to fucking kill a god.

I actually teared up a little at the creche this one time, when I had to beg her to stay, and she was like, you knew I had no other path to follow, but this one, or something like that.

But.

But I have beaten the game with her in my party like three times. I've had her in my party on Honor mode like...a million times.

So, tl;dr - I love her to death, but gameplay wise, she's so strong that I can't play her anymore.

Shadowheart:

Ok...I admit it.

I don't like Shadowheart. I find her boring visually, because she's just this generically hot white girl. She was designed to be the companion that all straight cis white men would want to see naked, and that's fine but uh.

Does absolutely nothing for me.

I don't care for her personality either. I don't like her lines, all coy and vaguely condescending. I don't really like how mean she is to you, and it's different from Lae'zel, because at least Lae'zel came from a warrior culture that doesn't put much value on flowery language. Lae'zel makes sense.

Shadowheart is an amnesiac who's just mean to you because.

I also don't care for her story, at all.

Don't care about Shar's Gauntlet or her kidnapped backstory. Don't give a shit about her parents. Don't care that she's scared of wolves or that her hand hurts.

I like the overarching thematic bridge that her character exists on, specifically that the gods will demand everything of you, and will hurt you for their own amusement.

But as a companion...no.

I have never been interested in romancing her. I never have her on the party, except to get that achievement.

I also don't like clerics. I think they're kind of weak, tbh. They're heal bots. They're really only good for spirit guardians, glyph of warding, and removing status effects. Just don't care for that. I'm an all dps team, we have no room for healers.

TL;DR: I don't think Shadowheart is interesting design wise, story wise, or gameplay wise.

Karlach:

I loved Karlach the moment I saw her, I fell deeper in love with her the second I heard her voice, and I knew I would die and kill for her, when I saw her excited "I love you" confession scene.

Seriously.

I have said this before, and I will say it again.

Out of all of these characters, romanceable or not...

I would only marry Karlach in REAL LIFE. I'd never date a man like Gortash or Astarion. I might be friends with Gale, but he's too smart to be my boyfriend.

But Karlach. She brings the wife energy. She could throw me over her shoulder and bash me against the concrete, and I would say thank you, ma'am.

she's also so fucking fun to play. barbarian options in bg3 are so goddamn funny. you can intimidate everyone and just break shit. it's great. you can also constantly throw people AT PEOPLE. And it's great. She's way more fun than Lae'zel because of it.

No notes. Top tier character design. My wife.

But also FUCK the developers for only giving her two fucking quests, one of which is a FETCH IT quest and the other is just a lame boss fight.

And FUCK THEM for only originally giving her an ending where she either dies or becomes a mindflayer. WHY.

And the Avernus ending still annoys me, because the ENTIRE PARTY should be there too.

FUCK YOU LARIAN. Why do you hate Karlach???? You're monsters. She's never done anything wrong, and yet all you do, is wrong her.

Bullshit.

Wyll:

Ok.

Hard truth time.

Wyll is the hottest male companion.

Like.

No cap. Everyone who says Gale, or Astarion, or Halsin-

Incorrect. It's Wyll. He is literally so hot, with the white eye and those sexy throat scars. Hrrrrrrr.

Also, controversial opinion. I actually like his devil form.

I think it makes him even hotter. I do wish he had wilder hair, though.

That being said...

He's horribly underwritten.

I went in, thinking, he's so kind and nice and hot...and then I was disappointed by how little they gave him.

He, like Karlach, got hit with the cut content curse.

And it's so ugly.

And gross.

And honestly, I suspect it's racist.

But yeah.

I think he's really sweet and I like romancing him and all. But they didn't dedicate any time or effort to his romance, and I hate that. But not him. Never him.

TL;DR - my first impression of Wyll was wow, he's hot, I wanna know more about him, and my last impression is, wow, he's so hot, I hate that he has nothing going on because Larian simply didn't bother to give him shit to do.

Gale

Alright, I left Gale for last, because he has the MOST complicated relationship with me.

So I initially missed Gale, because my friend failed the strength check to get him out of the portal.

So for a while, I didn't even know he existed.

Then I started to see more of him on Tiktok and Tumblr, and I was like oh...ok. So...we missed him. Damn.

So I decided to try romancing him fairly early on....only to find out...

I absolutely despised that when he dies, he killed me with necrotic damage.

That pissed me off. In the early days, when I was new to the game, I think I once had a whole team wipe, because Gale and Lae'zel went down, and then Karlach went rampaging, set me on fire, and then died to Gale's necrotic...which is funny in hindsight, but it was annoying at the time.

The eating magical items thing was mildly annoying, but that was far worse.

I pretty much never ran Gale for a long period of time.

As the Dark Urge, I'd often kill him, in fact, just so I wouldn't have to deal with his Arcane Hunger.

And honestly, initially, I kind of disliked his personality too.

I think the first scene I ever saw of him was when you tell him he's ok in bed, and his response is like, I guess I'll go kill myself.

And honestly, I thought he had incel vibes because of it. Then add to the fact that he's rude to you, no matter what, when he needs his third item...and also add that to the annoying gameplay, PLUS the fact.

That I was rocking Sorceror and Warlock for most of my early runs, so didn't need a wizard...I said, no. No Gale.

I don't like Gale.

BUT.

Here's the thing, right?

I got into Gortash... and then I stepped away from Astarion. Started being obsessed with the Dark Urge...

And then I noticed that all of my Durgetash friends were super into Gale, and I didn't get why...

But then weavewithshadow specifically alerted me to the fact that... there are Gale and Gortash parallels...specifically, that they're both brilliant, scruffy, are blinded by ambition, can't appreciate the things they have, and keep chasing after things they can't quite reach.

And then I was like...ok, maybe I've been harsh on him...

So I did his romance...and I felt bad.

Because he's actually very sweet.

And his voice is reallllly lovely when it's soft and fond.

He's a poet...and then I felt bad for all the times I had chewed off his arm.

And honestly, with experience...I now know what to feed him. Mostly garbage magic items like Komira's dumb locket or the ring of color spray from the harpies' nest, or those dumb boots that electrify the water you stand in.

Plus, I'm smart enough to know how to keep Gale alive now, so the necrotic thing isn't an issue.

So.

So. TL;DR I had a very complicated relationship with Gale, first with his mechanics, then with this random out of context scene where he's kind of nasty to you. But I came around, and honestly...right now...I like him more than Astarion.

All he wants to do is...live.

And I relate to that.

And his romance scenes are nice, and he has more of an arc than most of the other companions, Astarion aside.

So there you go, anon.

This took forever to write.

Thanks for the ask, though.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3

[pandorascripts]

The 241 is so awesome man, beautifully written! Hey, I was just wondering if you could do a part 2 with a happy ending? Cause I have enough angst for today. But if you don't want to or you couldn't write it cause you are busy then could just ignore this request. This is my first time requesting btw :)

241 (PT. II)

note: hey! I wasn’t expecting this story to do so well, so I kinda got off tumblr for a bit. I saw this last night and immediately got to work :) sorry I didn’t answer sooner!!

song: 241, rivermaya. pairing(s): wednesday x fem!reader, bianca barclay x fem!platonic!reader.

warnings: angst, negligence for health (?), fluff, and a happy open ending :)

pt. 1, here, but this can be a stand alone

pt. 3, here.

proof read once, and written at 1am, and today with like seven hours of sleep. enjoy :)

——————

It had been weeks since you and Wednesday broke up. She gave you your space, watching you from afar. You weren’t oblivious. That’s why you raced out of the classroom immediately, why you changed where you sat at lunch everyday, why you showed up late to every class— it was all to avoid her. 

You could tell she wanted to say more, her mouth opening and closing before you dashed out. She’d search for you at lunch, even skipping it so she could check your dorm. It was exhausting, and you were completely drained. Your grades had started to crumble, the bags under your eyes could no longer be hidden by cosmetics, and you could’ve sworn you’d lost an unhealthy amount of weight. You didn’t sleep at night, you couldn’t, not without her cold embrace. But she cheated. She made you this shell of a person. 

Bianca tried to help, but you shoved her aside too. You’d shoved everyone aside. You were isolated and that’s how it should be because if Wednesday broke your heart, it was only a matter of time before someone did it again. 

As you dragged yourself to botany, you saw a spot of black in the sea of purple. Quickly, you picked up your pace, dashing to the nearest bathroom. You swung the stall open, locking it and squatting on the toilet so your feet wouldn’t show. You lowered your breathing, listening for any footsteps. 

You huffed out in relief when no one had followed you. It was unfortunately short lived, seeing as a disgusted face kicked itself under the stall, laying flat on her back. You shrieked out in horror, wedging yourself farther into the wall. 

“Dammit, Wednesday!”

She stood up, gently brushing off her thighs. “We need to speak.”

“There’s nothing to speak about,” you grumbled, looking down at your shoes. They were a lot more entertaining than this conversation, and the person in front of you. 

“There is—“ She faltered for a moment, her mental dictionary escaping her. “I made a mistake. One that hurt you deeply—“

You snorted, cutting her off. “No shit, Sherlock. Did you hurt Enid trying to get to the evidence to that?”

She frowned, not at all pleased with your attitude. Wednesday stiffened her posture, her face back to a dead expression. 

“Look Wednesday, you’re making me late to botany—“

“Not that you wouldn’t have been anyways.”

You gave her a quizzical look, and hopped off the toilet. Due to the small stall, you were in her face. She gazed up at you, her cold eyes meeting yours for the first time. You took a moment to assess her, letting your eyes wander. Her usual makeup was way lighter, her eye bags showing too, there was a slight gloss in her eye, and a vulnerability to them. You gulped, who the hell is pretending to be Wednesday? She’d rather be caught watching chick-flicks than be vulnerable. 

“What do you mean by that?”

“As a means to see me as less than possible, you’ve been late to botany eighteen times. On the off chance you weren’t, you were indulging yourself in the rare conversation with someone. Although, conversations are something you seem to be avoiding, given how I had to chase you down in a stall for one.” 

You shifted uncomfortably on your feet. “What about it?”

“You rival Sinclair with your desire for human interaction, this behavior is completely unlike you. I fear I may be the cause.” She broke eye contact with you, copying you moments ago as she stared at her platforms. 

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Causing you pain isn’t any complement.” Wednesday looked back up at you, her face still neutral, but in her eyes held a war. 

They flickered from being vulnerable, open for you, so that you could see her. But they flashed back to cold and ruthless so hard you could’ve received whiplash. Wednesday was at an impasse, and you feared the vicious one you knew so well, would win. You were wronged when her hand slowly came up, placing itself on your bicep. She watched her hand for a moment, almost afraid of it, before looking back at you. Your breath hitched at the newfound intensity they held. 

“I hate hurting you. What I did was pueril, completely beneath me, and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Tyler is not to blame, only I. I was the one who kissed him—“ You tried to cut her off, but she plowed right through you. Desperately, her other hand shot up to hold you neck. “and I know that I shouldn’t have gambled our relationship on my investigation. They both meant too much to me, and unfortunately I chose the worst option.”

She breathed in shakily, whipping her head side to side as she tried to regain control of her emotions. When your eyes met Wednesday’s again, they were cold, but an equal amount of emotions was kept shown. 

“Wedn—“ 

She placed her forehead on yours, standing up on her tippy-toes. 

“Please, tell me you still feel this,” she breathed out. 

Her arm holding your bicep slowly started making its way to your neck, leaving a spark in its wake. The tears in your eyes desperately clawed through, trying to tell Wednesday you did. Her touch was hot and cold, burning you alive, but leaving goosebumps trailing after. The pressure on your forehead made you heart swell and beat at godspeed. 

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Wednesday got to kick your heart around like a soccer ball, and you still loved her. It wasn’t fair that Wednesday got to treat you terribly, shoving you aside and calling you names whilst you just took it. You knew it wasn’t fair, and that’s way you yanked her hands away. You pinched your eyebrows together, a faux anger overtaking your face. 

“No,” you seethed out.

Wednesday’s mouth fall agape, her eyebrows raised slightly. “Wha—“

“No. You and I are over. Stay the hell away from me.”

You shoved her aside, not strong enough to see if you’d broken her. You hastily dashed up the stairs, to hell with botany, and locked yourself in an unused classroom. Grabbing out your phone, you scrolled through you contacts until you found her. 

Room 205, please. It’s an emergency. 

Within minutes Bianca was in the room, nodded along to everything you said. 

“And then I shoved her aside, and told her we’re over. God, im such an idiot—“

“No, not at all. Wednesday was a shit girlfriend, alright?”

You lifted your head off her shoulder, shaking it slightly. “She didn’t know.”

Bianca scoffed, clicking her tongue. “She knew damn well what she was doing. Wednesday did not give zero fucks, and at first I admired her for that, but it’s a shitty trait.”

“This isn’t making me feel better. You were suppose to wallow with me, not trash talk the ex im still in love with,” you grumbled, laying your head back on Bianca’s shoulder. 

“You’re right. How ‘bout we watch a movie tonight? My dorm? You can even watch that stupid movie that always pisses me off.”

“Zoolander?” You cheerily replied, wiping the tears off your face. 

“Yeah, that dude.”

You mumbled out a line from the movie, chuckling at the stupidity of it. 

“I’ll even get ice cream. It’ll be our wallowing time.”

“Deal.” You smiled, closing your eyes. 

You may not have Wednesday, but as long as Bianca stood by your side, you were confident you’d overcome her. 

Wednesday stared at her dorm wall, not moving an inch. 

“Wednesday?” Enid timidly called, closing her magazine. 

The werewolf earned no reply, only a loud breath in. 

Enid grumbled, marching over the black tape to her friend. 

“Groveling isn’t a good look on you.”

Wednesday keep staring at the wall, her writing time well over exceeded. Enid checked the typewriter, not a single word was written. She frowned, for Wednesday had sat down three hours ago. 

Enid waved her hand in front of her roommates face. “Yoo-hoo, Earth to Major Tom?”

Within a second, Wednesday was up and out of her chair, hovering in Enid’s face. 

“What,” she seethed. 

Enid was about to retaliate with some sarcastic remark, but she stopped herself. She took note of Wednesday, who was practically shaking. Enid huffed out a sigh. 

“You need to put a sweater on, it’s the middle of December and that damn window doesn’t have any wind-blockers— or whatever.”

“No.”

“Yes, you cant freeze to death.”

Wednesday didn’t grace her with a reply, only looking sadly at her shirt. Enid’s eyes followed Wednesday’s, and she realized that not only was Wednesday’s shirt too big for her, but it was also colorful. It wasn’t too lively, just an asphalt gray and some red plastered over it. 

“Is that…?”

Wednesday’s eyes snapped up to Enid, rough and firm. “No.”

“Liar. Thats her— that’s her favorite shirt…” she trailed off her sentence, frowning deeply. 

“Second favorite.” Wednesday buried her face in her shoulder, turning around. 

“You need to talk with her.”

“I tried that!” She barked, finger cocked like a gun. “How did that conclude?”

Enid gulped. “You shouldn’t give up.”

“You are so exasperating! I gave her my all, I bared my soul to her, and she shoved me aside! I—“

“How do you think she felt?” Enid yelled, shoving her own finger in Wednesday’s face. “How do you think she felt when you berated her with those— those cruel words? When you left her alone at those dates she spent hoursplanning, just so you could learn more about the Hyde?” Enid took another step forward, making Wednesday trip over herself. “Or how ‘bout when you made out with Tyler? I’ve tried being your friend, dude! I tried supporting you, but you are screwing up everything! She deserves better.” 

Wednesday gulped, her jaw clenching. Enid watched as her body shook once again, but this time not with rage, or coldness, but with grief. 

“I didn’t believe you had the guts to say it, Sinclair,” she whispered. 

“Say what?”

“What everyone’s been thinking— what everyone knows,” she corrects. “That I’m no good for her.”

Enid sat Wednesday on her bed, sitting an inch away from her. “That’s not true, I said she deserves better, and who says you can’t be? You just need will, and the spirit.”

“Who’s?”

“Huh?”

“Whose spirit, Sinclair.”

Enids eyes shot open, last thing she wants is Wednesday playing with an Ouija Board. She shuddered, remembering the last time that happened. 

“Not literally! Like the metaphorical spirit of, y’know, courage, or, whatever.”

Wednesday nodded. “Will— Would you—“

“Yes, I’d love to help you.”

She nodded again, fidgeting with her hands in her lap. “You have to believe me when I say it came from good intentions. I never wanted her to hurt. I just needed to know that my suspicions were correct. I needed to put him away, so I could protect her.”

The blonde nodded. “I know. It doesn’t make it right, though.”

Hesitantly, Enid wrapped her arms around Wednesday. She left her embrace weak so that if she didn’t like it, the psychic would be free to leave. She didn’t though, instead she rested her head on Enids shoulder, breathing shakily. 

“We’re in for a long trip.”

You stomped your foot down on the black petals, stuffing the chocolate in your mouth. 

“It’s the third time this week, Bianca. She won’t stop.”

“At least you’re getting free chocolate.” Bianca shrugged, stuffing her mouth with the dark candy again. 

With a mouth full, you grumbled. “Maybe it’d be nice if it was from someone else. And these notes?” 

Bianca picked one up. “I’ll keep sending these until we talk. You cant stop me.”

She snorted. 

“It’s not funny, dude!”

“It is though! Like, how worse can she get?”

You shook your head. “This probably isn’t even the least of it.” 

Then, just as if the gods wanted to curse you, a pair of keys slid under your door. You walked over, picking them up with the black ribbon. A small tag was placed on there, only reading ‘enjoy’. 

You frowned, turning them over. With a loud gasp, you dropped the keys. 

“Did she give you a real rabbits foot?”

You whipped around, jaw dropped to hell. “She bought me a fucking car.”

Bianca’s face copied yours and she paced over to you. She picked up the keys, chuckling. 

“What the fuck.” 

You snatched the keys out of her hand and opened the door. 

“What are you doing?”

“Returning her gift. I’m not letting her but me a car.”

“Hey, be reasonable! Yours has been stuttering every two seconds and it’s gonna break down any day now.”

“I don’t care, Bianca. Stay here.”

You slammed the door shut, not bothering to change out of your slippers. You marched down the stoned corridor, mumbling to yourself. 

“Buying me a damn car,” you grumbled angrily. 

A tap on your shoulder knocked you out of your rambling. 

“Dude! Have you seen the new Porsche parked outside? It’s sick!” Ajax jumped up, grinning. 

She bought you a fucking Porsche. You wanted to scream. Ignoring Ajax, you broke into a sprint. 

When you saw her dorm come into view, you picked up your pace once again. 

“WEDNESDAY ADDAMS!” You yelled, pounding your fist on the wood. 

The door swung open, and your fist was caught mid swing by freezing hands. 

“You bought me a fucking Porsche?”

“I’ll return it if it’s not to your taste. Perhaps a Lamborghini?”

You scoffed. “No! You’re going to return it either way, and not buy me a car.”

“Yours has been repaired? I thought it was still stalling.”

You looked away, embarrassment coated your face. “Well, no, not exactly, but— but I don’t need half the school fawning over the car you bought me. Not only that, I never asked your to! Those things are like a million dollars!’

“The 911 Turbo Cabriolet is only $195,700. Although I could buy you the 911 GT3 RS, which holds a value of $223,800.”

Wednesday’s hand dropped your fist, still holding it. You gulped. 

“Look, I appreciate the gesture, and I think it’s really swe—“ you cut yourself off, “you have to return it.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want you spending that kind of money on me.”

“Unfortunately, it seems that I am unable to express my love for you through words, so I’ve resorted to pricing measures. You’re keeping the car.”

You gulped, looking into the hallway.

 “Why don’t you just give up?” Your voice cracked.

Wednesday frowned. The hand not occupying yours held you face softly. “Because there’s nothing in the world that I wouldn’t do for you, and having you back is on that list.”

You shook your head, slamming the keys into her hand. 

“Keep the car.”

Against her protests, you walked away from her dorm and back to yours. You paced down the hallway, the nail polish being chipped away by your thumb. 

Your breath stuttered as you breathed in deeply, trying to get her out of your mind. Why would she do that? That was stupid! And when did Wednesday get that type of money? You frowned, remembering the multiple times she described her home as a large, gothic manor. 

You entered your dorm, seeing no Bianca. Sighing, you jumped onto your bed face first. 

God, she was so infuriating, and tiring, and annoying, and stupid, and— and oddly enough, romantic. You curled your hand into a fist, hitting your bed as you huffed. You just wanted to move on, get over her and find someone else. Heartbreaks suck, you concluded. 

You pushed yourself off your bed, stumbling over to you closet. Whatever random sweater you grabbed, you flung it over yourself. The motion caused a whiff of a scent to flood you, and you could’ve fainted. It was a light lavender and a small hint of coconut. You buried you face into the sweater, the soft, wooly material easing you. A nostalgic sense crept in and you could’ve swornyou’ve smelt this before. Your eyes fluttered open, hands pressing out the sweater. A gasp launched out of your mouth, the black sweater recognizable in an instant. It was the sweater you’d gotten Wednesday for her birthday, she looked it over nodding in approval. You felt so ecstatic because you had gotten her sense of fashion correctly, three sizes too big, black only, and dead things. The sweater held a skeleton looking wayward, flowers for eyes and white petals plastered over it. 

You stared at it for a hard moment, eyes becoming hazy. Hot streaks came down your cheeks and you confusedly wiped them away. After realizing they were tears, you let them fall free, huddling on the floor. Her sweater stored your tears as you wept, the occasional hiccup jolting you. You flexed your jaw, the tears making your face uncomfortably sticky, and yawned loudly. A note shot through the door, and you frowned. 

You picked it up, sniffling, and ripped it open.

‘Four hours before the witching time. Jericho’s cemetery’

You folded the note into your sweatpants pocket, sighing. God, why did you even indulge this anymore? She hurt you, and went you crawled back to her like a kicked puppy. Regardless, you shrugged off your gray sweatpants, opting for something more classy. You buttoned up your ripped jeans, anxiously biting your lip. 

You didn’t bother changing out of her sweater, what’s it matter anyways? It was comfy and worked for you. You checked your phone, seeing you had about an hour until then. 

The dorm door bursted open and Bianca came in holding two trays of food. 

“Figured you haven’t had dinner yet. Come get your tray.”

“Thank you. Which one?”

“You’re right.”

“You’re fantastic.”

“I know.” She smiled, sitting down on your bed with you. 

“She asked me out.”

Bianca tried to contain her spit take, some of it shooting out anyways. “You’re shitting me.”

You shook your head. “I mean I think so. It said something about meeting her at a cemetery.”

“Knowing Wednesday, it’s definitely a date.”

“Right then,” you tutted. 

Bianca hesitated for a moment, her mouth dropping before closing. “Are you— are you gonna change out of her sweater, or…?”

“No.” You shifted in your feet, walking away to the bathroom. “It’s comfortable.”

Bianca snorted, following you. As you wetted your toothbrush, she started rambling. 

“Wednesday literally cheated, are you sure you want to go back to that?”

With a mouth full of toothpaste an foam, you tilted her head up. “I uh ow! I ill oh her!”

With a disgruntled face, Bianca shook her head. “I have no idea what you just said.”

You spat into the sink, looking back to her. “You’re worse than the damn dentist.”

“Don’t avoid my question.”

You shoved the toothbrush back into your mouth, grinning. “Orry! Uh’ing mah feef!”

“You’re gross.” With that, Bianca walked out the the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. 

You continued getting ready, your nail polish practically gone at this point from the anxious chipping. You played with your hair a bit, trying a messy bun, then shaking it out, a pony tail, shaking that out too, before you grumbled angrily. You decided to just leave it as it was, not wanting to be frustrated any more than you were. 

As you walked out the door, Bianca whistled. “You look fantastic.”

“I look like I just rolled out of bed. Shut up.”

She shrugged, smiling at you. “Only saying the truth.”

“Uh-huh,” you mumbled, sliding on a couple more rings. 

You played with the new jewelry, twisting it back and forth. 

“It’s almost eight.”

Your eyes bulged out of your head in shock. “I cant walk there in that ti—“

Your sentence was disrupted halfway through as Bianca dangled a pair of keys. “You were saying?”

The car roared to life, soon fizzing out to pure silence. Your jaw dropped, people used to have to yell at the top of their lungs over your engine. Now, someone could whisper in the back and you’d hear it clear as day. You moved the stick into reverse, gently pushing on the gas. It jerked backwards, and you stomped on the brakes. 

Trying again, you slowly applied pressure, feeling the car gain speed fast. As you twisted the wheel, you looked at your dash, a review camera showing your surroundings. Once you’d gotten out of the parking slot, you pulled the sticky note off the center console, reading it. 

‘Knew you’d need it. Careful with the gas, she shoots faster than a bullet. -Yours.’

You stuck the note back where it was, and shifted the stick into drive. At that time, a women’s voice blared through the car. 

“Good afternoon, ma’am.”

You screamed, slamming on the brake. 

“Who the fuck is that?” You panted out, eyes wide in alarm. 

“I’m S.A.M.A.R.I.A, a program built by Ms. Addams for your aid.”

You took in a deep breath, still not used to the voice in your car. “She built a program?”

“Yes, for you. She figured you may need assistance when learning to drive this vehicle. That’s what I’ve been made for.”

You settled down, placing your hands back on the steering wheel. 

“Would it ease your anxiety if I gave myself a face?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

You looked over to your dash, an upright ‘:)’ was plastered over it. Laughing, you gripped your steering wheel. 

“I don’t suppose you can drive this car yourself, Sam?”

“Of course.”

You hands whipped away from the steering wheel as it twisted. “Holy shit! This is like, STARK technology!” You cried. 

The car smoothly whipped out of Nevermore student parking lot, out the gates, and onto the winding road. 

“Would you like to plug in your desired destination?”

“Uh, yeah, can you get me to Jericho’s cemetery?”

“Right away.”

The car took a sharp left, cutting on to a bikers path. 

“OH FUCK! SAMARIA!”

You doubled checked your seat belt, letting your hands grip the arm rests afterwards. Clenching your jaw, you shut your eyes tight mumbling whatever you were thinking. 

“Your heart rate has increased exponentially in the last fifty-seven seconds. How may I aid you?”

“You can stop driving in dirt paths, for one! And for two, maybe tell Wednesday I might be late.”

“Ms. Addams has already been alerted of your tardiness.”

“Great,” you spat, still clenching your jaw. 

You watched in horror as the car didn’t slow down, about to crash into the cemetery’s gates. 

“SAMARIA!” You yelled. Suddenly, the car jerked to a stop. Your eyes peeled open and you were barely an inch away from the lock. 

“Oh, fuck,” you breathed out, wiping sweat from your forehead. 

The gates opened automatically, and the car slowly lurched forward. It cruised until it reached the parking lot, stopping in the middle. 

“I hope your cruise was enjoyable.”

“Peachy.”

You exited the car, locking it in your way out, and headed into the cemetery. 

Unfortunately, Jericho’s got a lot of dead people, so you were left pacing around hollering for her. 

“Wednesday!”

You turned around, checking the horizon. It struck you then, that you forgot to bring a coat, and the wind nipped at you fiercely in retaliation. 

With chattering teeth, you called out her name again. “Wednesday!”

“Behind you.”

You whipped backwards, stumbling a bit. Wednesday walked up to you, talking off her own coat. She stepped close to you, wrapping it around your shoulders. 

“You’re going to get hypothermia.”

“So are you,” you protested.

“Perhaps, but I’ll enjoy it.”

You shook your head. “What’d you want to meet me here for?”

“You’ll see.” She took off the opposite direction, only turning back to gauge you.

As you walked side by side with her, your hand occasionally brushed against hers. The awkwardness of the situation brought you back to your first date with her. You took her out to Jericho’s library as a study date, it also was the first time you’d kissed. The memory made a red tint cover your cheeks, and you were glad you could blame it on the cold. 

When your hands brushed again, Wednesday locked her pinky with yours. You gulped, looking down to her. She continued marching forward, not bothering to address it. 

When your eyes left the side of her head, you were met with a white gazebo, bright with different sized candles. In the middle, black pedals surrounded a blanket placed in the center. You gasped slightly, faltering your step for a moment. 

Wednesday tugged you forward, and under the threshold. 

She looked up to you, allowing you a second to process everything. 

“I’m aware people typically have to agree to dates, but I feared you’d shut me down if I’d stated my intentions.”

You swallowed harshly, the log in your throat not budging. “It’s beautiful.”

You looked around once again, not realizing Wednesday hadn’t taken her eyes off you. “It is,” she whispered.

You sat cross legged on the floor, still in awe. 

“I hope the car was behaving.”

Oh, yeah, that. “You built an entire A.I system?”

Wednesday nodded, shrugging like it’s normal. “I built SAMARIA when I was ten, since then I’ve done upgrades on her. Only a couple months ago I completely reprogrammed her to fit a car. It was to be your Christmas gift, along with a new vehicle.”

You looked away from her, wringing out your hands. “Here I was thinking I’d get you a new bow for your cello.”

She hummed slightly, starting to open the basket. “It’s a great gift idea.”

“Nothing compared to a new A.I and a car,” you snorted. 

“Anything from you, is better than anything else.”

Dejecting the butterflies in your stomach, you pulled up a snarky comment. “When you’d get so romantic?”

Wednesday sighed, pulling out sparkling cider. “In my quest to not become my mother, it seems I’ve become my father. Sickening displays of affection are all I want to show you now.”

You stuttered, not able to find the right words. “Oh.”

She nodded, cracking open the bottle. Carefully, Wednesday poured them into two glasses. 

“Unless you’ve changed in thirty-six days, I believe this is still your favorite.”

“N—No, it still is. Thank you.” You took the glass from her, timidly smiling. 

“How’d you set this all up?”

“Knocked out the guard whilst he was in his post, and pulled off petals from dyed flower.”

“You knocked out the guard?”

“Yes, no need to fret, the cameras have been disabled by Thing.”

“That’s not the point! The point is you assaulted an officer of the law!”

“You’re unable to rent our cemeteries anymore, quite the pity. It was the only way.”

Laughing, you set down your glass. “You are crazy, Wednesday Addams.”

“I’d go insane for you.”

You bashfully shook your head, snorting. Her hand locked with yours, and she squeezed slightly. 

“I want you to know, even if you do not forgive me—“

You sighed, the weight of the situation crashing down on you.

“We—“

“Even if you do not forgive me, I will keep trying. I will not stop until I’ve earned your trust and love again.”

You tried to talk, but it was almost like you completely forgot how to. You gulped, looking into her eyes. Hoping the look on your face showed her just how much this meant to you, you squeezed her hand back. Wednesday looked at you like you were her whole world, and maybe in a sense, you might’ve been. If you were her world, she was your North Star because no matter what, you knew’d you’d always be stuck following her. The scary thing was, you didn’t think you’d want it any other way.

#netflix wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednesday series #wednesday 2022 #wednesday #wednesday show #wednesday tv series #wednesday x you #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday x reader #jenna ortega #wednesday fanfic #fanfic #angst #wednesday characters x reader #bianca barclay #nevermore academy #addams family #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #enid and wednesday #thing

[andypantsx3]

Ok Andy this had been on my mind for a while now and I really want to hear your thoughts on this!

So we all know that Shouto is pure husband material, the kinda guy you'd be proud to introduce to your parents! But yk all those years of abuse and trauma (our poor bby ;-;) would definitely take a big toll on anyone, right?! So I was reminiscing about the earlier episodes where he is all closed off and cold to everyone, and that really got me thinking... what would dating Shouto REALLY be like.

How much of his behavior in a relationship really be affected by his past? Obviously nobody is perfect and even though our princess man comes close what do you think his shortcomings are as a person/partner? What do you think his toxic traits would be? What could be some of his bad habits? How would he react during an argument? I used to hc that he would be really calm and passive but then I remembered this scene

Ofc us being his partner would change things, but he DOES lash out at times. The police officer hadn't yelled at them, he was just explaining what they did was wrong according to the law (which could be unfair but thats his job) and he straight up called him a slur 💀 (well yk in this society where so many ppl have animal related quirks it probably is a slur? Idk tho). He was sorry later but still. I was so shocked when I internalized the fact that Shouto does infact have quite a temper, even when he's not rude/ aggressive about it. It doesn't make him bad or anything because 9/10 times it's well warranted and I am just a pussy who doesn't handle other's anger well but yk...

WHO WOULD EXPECT A TEMPER FROM THIS LIL FACE?!

I am really wanna take his character and study him under a microscope and I am really interested to see your pov on this. Also don't feel inclined to agree with anything I said if you dont, I asked you precisely cuz I wanted a different way of looking at him from mine.

Btw none of this is to paint him as a bad person or partner because of a few shortcomings or his trauma. We all know he's too precious for that and that would be hypocritical of me especially since I have many of my habits and unhealthy ways of dealing with stuff that I dislike, but I also feel like he has so much angst potential in issues that aren't necessarily rooted in his family but moreso his own personality. Healing is often a "one step forward and three step back journey" and while I hate to watch him struggle, his perseverance gives me a lot of strength. Also obviously people change over the course of time and character development and all that, but we see even after the MASSIVE amounts of character development Bakugo has he still retains a lot of his previous qualities and obviously still struggles with a few things. I wonder if it's similar for Shouto. I wonder what he struggles with 🤔 (idk why I am scared but I don't want ppl to take these dumb sleepy thoughts of mine the wrong way yk lol)

I support my mans rights, his wrongs and everything in between :>

(p.s. I am so sleepy rn I don't even know if any of this is coherent cuz the points are flying all over the place but I hope you get a gist of what I am trying to ask. I love myself some sweet angst when it comes to all my blorbos but when I think of Shouto nothing obvious comes to mind. Also whenever I write even an ask or question like this my respect for writers keeps increasing tenfold! How do you guys write fics at like 4 am and it's still a masterpiece and I can barely string my thoughts together... )

Yes!!! I have so many thoughts about this, particularly as someone who also has daddy issues and a hot temper but actively works to be better as well lol.

I do think for the most part we've really seen Shouto move past who he was in those earlier episodes. That is not to say he still doesn't have those feelings, but he arguably manages them in a more regulated way. He has the temper but now he also has the tools and the perspective to better articulate himself.

I think generally Shouto would work hard to be calm and patient during an argument, but as with any human being, mistakes will be made and tempers will spike. I think during particularly bad arguments he'd get more closed off, like in those earlier episodes, would try to go off by himself so that he doesn't explode with that white-hot rage.

I do think, thankfully, that Shouto's ability to show empathy and compassion even in the middle of what we know are the most emotionally trying times of his life (the fights with Dabi), bodes well for his future ability to communicate and regulate himself on the whole. I do not see him as the kind of man who would yell or break things; I see him as the kind of man who now does everything in his power not to be like that.

And also with a face like that, would we not just let him win any argument anyway?? LOL

#ask andie