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saetoru · 9 months

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)

synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too

— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)

— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)

— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333

the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good.

you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left.

and then satoru wins.

you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead.

whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure.

and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware.

for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.

it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place.

he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it.

“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free.

“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”

“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”

“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair.

it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared.

it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.

you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on.

you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close.

“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”

“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”

“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”

“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”

your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper.

“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?”

suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for.

you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore.

“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down.

“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.

“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”

you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were.

but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself.

you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.

“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”

“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”

“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”

“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.

“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever.

i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.

“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.

he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”

it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why.

————————————————

even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought.

the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare.

you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature.

“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again.

as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face.

except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high.

it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath.

“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause.

and then you remember.

faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru.

it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have.

but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again.

“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh.

“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.

“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”

it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself.

“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close.

“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”

you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness.

when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night.

————————————————

“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans.

“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest.

it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room.

but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry.

“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.

“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”

“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”

“tell him to go fuck off.”

“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”

“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly.

you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not.

he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen.

you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast.

but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between.

so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”

“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace.

“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.

he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile.

“let’s go,” you hum.

“after you,” he mutters.

—

he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart.

suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.

it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.

as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name.

“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”

he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles.

for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away.

“what are you—”

“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment.

“what?”

“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”

“i’m not a teenager anymore—”

“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”

“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years.

“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”

so you do.

with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.

“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”

“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.

“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”

“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you.

“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”

suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru.

suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had.

something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.

but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him.

“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”

“me too,” he says quietly.

“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”

home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.

“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”

“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind.

his breath hitches.

she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror.

there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms.

perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened.

because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.

suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him.

“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance.

he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.

but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to.

but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention.

“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence.

every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them.

“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”

“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”

suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.

“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”

“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them.

but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.

————————————————

satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to.

you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down.

but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it.

satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself.

it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?

well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life.

it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).

it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in.

and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you.

it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin.

geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for.

so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you?

it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.

and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.

“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.

“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”

“about…?”

“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”

“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”

“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”

“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”

“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”

“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”

“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”

“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”

“what?” you blink.

“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”

“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”

“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it.

but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life?

good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him.

and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal.

ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score.

he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous.

“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”

“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”

“how lucky of you,” you snort.

—

picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good.

so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off.

“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”

“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”

“of all movies—”

“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”

“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”

“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”

all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think.

“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.

“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”

“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.

“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”

“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles.

suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it.

you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug.

“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”

suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed.

“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”

you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.

it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.

“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place.

in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.

it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.

————————————————

suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look.

“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”

“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”

“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch.

“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”

“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.

“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”

“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”

“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes.

sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this.

“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”

“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”

despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room.

suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.

“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”

there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook.

suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again.

he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.

“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind.

“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”

“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”

“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”

“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”

“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks.

it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.

deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.

it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left.

it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good.

you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence.

it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away.

“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.

“do what?”

“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”

“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”

“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.

“like what?” he raises a brow.

“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation.

he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.

“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”

you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.

of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too.

you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes.

“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”

“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.

fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too.

“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”

“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”

never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?

“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”

“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”

“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”

“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”

“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”

“i know—”

“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?”

“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”

“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.

“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever.

being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive.

“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.

“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”

you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.

“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.

he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy.

“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.

“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru.

“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little.

it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled.

“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”

“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”

“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises.

“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”

“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”

“yeah,” you breathe.

he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough.

you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink.

finally, for once, you’re enough.

“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”

“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”

“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”

“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.

he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering.

maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much.

in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.

“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum.

“because i need you here. will you stay?”

“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”

hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3

also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok

#teepods.writings #fics.#geto x reader #geto x you #geto fluff #geto angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru angst #geto suguru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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impishjesters · 6 months

Text

Heavy Petting NSFW

warning(s): kissing, grinding, drooling(?), use of the word dick/cock, no penetration, no genitals used or mentioned towards the reader, overall just heavy petting themes, submissive-like Jax, dominant-ish reader note(s): This is a sort of continuation to my SFW post of touch-starved Jax. So many people, I'm talking so many have asked for an NSFW version and I decided to go far out of my comfort zone to actually write something instead of using the bullet points. (Though there are bullet points for setting up, below the keep reading heads straight into the writing.) A/N: I let Jax have dick privileges (initially I wasn't going to), even though you don't see it. I'm not really confident in my NSFW writing abilities, I've barely held another human's hand let alone bumped clothed uglies with one. Beta read by my mother, yes, you read that correctly.

It doesn’t take long for those little moments of laying in bed together just kissing away at whatever your lips can reach to turn a little more…heated

It was you who brought it up first, asking if he was aware of what more was—he immediately said yes, namely because you were straddling his thigh and your own knee kept nudging against his crotch

Jax for once is a nervous, stuttery mess. If kissing already makes his brain go fuzzy, what the fuck is more going to do??

He oh so graciously lets you lead (let’s face it he’s too nervous, there’s a high chance he’s never done anything like this before)

you start with kisses on his hands and work your way up an arm to his shoulder. it’s nothing fancy, just the standard kisses the two of you have shared before

except now you’re straddling his hips and he’s lying propped up against the pillows in bed

Jax doesn’t know where to look, your position above him has him wanting to look up at you, at your face to try and get some grasp on whatever evil plan is cookin’ up there. But the other half has him wanting to look down at his crotch, sure both of you are completely covered but you’re just sitting, well hovering over his dick.

He knows he said he’d let you take the lead but you are moving slower than he thought. Working kisses over his hands, wrists, all the way up to his shoulders. You even fiddle with the straps of his overalls before brushing them off his shoulders. He’s almost tempted to slip them entirely off his arms as a means of teasing you back but doesn’t get a chance to act on it.

Your lips travel from his shoulder down over the smooth expanse of his upper chest, over his collarbones until you reach his other shoulder. He shudders beneath you and it takes everything in you not to giggle, he’s so sensitive that it’s cute.

A gentle unexpected nip to his neck makes him choke on air, large gloved hands quickly latching onto your hips for leverage.

Perhaps his touch-starved nature ran deeper than you initially thought if he was starting to get this breathy over a few nips and kisses to places you hadn’t focused on before.

Oh, how beautiful he’ll be completely coming undone under you.

“You know the deal.” He swallows hard at the warm breath against his neck, trying to pay attention. “I do anything you don’t like you stop me, and I mean it Jaxy.”

Jax nods, he’s getting a little fidgety just sitting still but it’s not like his usual fidgeting. Irritation is replaced with an embarrassing need, a need for you to hurry the fuck up.

“Nuh uh, verbally sweetie.”

He exhales with a groan, hands tightening on your hips before slipping one of them onto your thigh. “Alright, fine. I’ll say something if I want you to—!!” He’s not even given a chance to finish the sentence before you bite down on his neck.

It’s harder than the nip from before but not painful enough that has him pushing you away. Jax trusts you enough to know that you won’t intentionally harm him. Though he’s pretty sure he’s more worried about the fact that his fucking dick just twitched at being bitten.

If he wasn’t embarrassed before he is now.

Kisses are placed over the bite mark and holy shit you left a mark! You aren’t sure why that’s hotter than it should be, you weren’t actually expecting the bite marks to stick like that? This world is too confusing at times.

Apparently, you’re taking too long, because Jax’s hands squeeze at the flesh under them and he pulls you down, finally sitting you down on his lap. He has the decency to not yank you directly onto his crotch but just a few inches away and wow, that’s…warm.

This whole situation is embarrassing enough he really doesn’t want to embarrass himself more by finishing that quickly.

Somehow, lasting long doesn’t feel like it’ll be an option though because your hands slip up his arms, one hand coming to rest on his neck and the other coming up to an ear. You tug his ear as if it were hair, forcing his head to jerk backward and further reveal the untouched portions of his neck.

A breathy moan jumps out of his throat before he has the chance to try and compose himself. Fuck he almost came, that’s fucking embarrassing.

There’s barely enough time to process the pleasant sting from his ear being yanked before you attack his neck with bites and kisses. To throw even more on him your hips shift forwards against his and fucking hell that is indeed a very warm crotch against his own. Fuck.

Well, there goes all attempts at lasting as long as he can because he’s not positive that he came but the crotch of his overalls is definitely wetter than he thinks it should be.

Tears pool in his eyes, not out of pain but pleasure, he honestly didn’t think you could cry over pleasure. Just something for extra flavour in movies where some poor sap starts crying during sex or whatever. He’s quickly learning that may not be the case.

The hand on his neck vanishes but doesn’t go far, fingers ghosting down his arm until it reaches the hand on your thigh. Bucking your hips you push his hand further up, pressing down onto his hand to let him know he’s allowed to move back against you.

You might be in charge but you weren’t limiting him from being able to seek out his own pleasure and chase after it.

Finishing though? That was your job.

The bites die down but the kisses don’t stop, every inch you can reach of bare skin is fair game. Chest, neck, jaw, lips—err teeth? Jax is too busy being a breathy moaning mess to really process the regular kisses but he returns them when he can. His main focus is on the way you grind down on his cock, it’s not just front and back rubbing. You’re twisting your hips and pulling back now and then, causing his own hips to buck up in an attempt to get that sweet friction back.

“Oooohh fuuuck..” His hand slips back to your thigh, tugging your hips down in time with his own grinding. The other hand goes to your lower back, fingers digging tightly into the fabric and nearly ripping it right off you.

Truthfully, you aren’t even doing much work. Yes, you are grinding on him, changing up the motion and pace, but the majority of the friction is entirely on him.

You have to take a break from kissing him to simply just stare down at him, his ears are pressed flat and there are unshed tears still lingering in his eyes. His usual lilac skin is flushed pink and there’s…a trail of saliva starting to leave the corner of his mouth.

He looks completely ruined and it’s only been a few minutes. Though you can’t blame him for that, when the two of you first started simple kisses in bed it already seemed like he’d just pop a boner then and there. Maybe he did, who knows?

What you do know is that you aren’t going to judge him, regardless of how he behaves or how quickly he finishes.

“That’s it, such a good boy.” Your words are soft, boarding on teasing but overall genuine in praise. He’s an utter mess but he’s doing so well, pulling you against him and working after his own high.

When the kisses stop he struggles to gain a moment of clarity to look up at you and watch you watching him. Your face is so tender and warm, under normal circumstances he’d comment on how dumb you look. No, that’s wrong he doesn’t think you look dumb, it’s just a completely foreign expression he’s not used to seeing directed at him. He’s seen that took on the face of others directed at their loved one, but never at himself.

His hips stop and his hands slip up your back to pull you in closer. It’s not fair that he’s the one getting all this attention after all—even though he doesn’t know that was your intention.

You are only a little surprised when he stops moving and you let him pull you down against his chest. He peppers a few kisses to your face, brushing your hair out of the way before his mouth trails over your jaw and down to your neck.

Jax is loosely trying to copy what you had done to him, though his head was full of cotton at the time so he’s having to make it up as he goes along. But whatever he’s doing gets the job done because you’re letting out quiet little whimpers.

“Jax, you don’t have to do that… this was supposed to be about you.” It’s mumbled through gritted teeth, the little attack was so sudden that you didn’t have the time to choke back those embarrassing little whimpers.

A grin makes its way to his face, one of your hands coming up to wipe away the drool before pinching his cheek. “You wipe that smirk off right now.”

“Nah, I don’t think I will.” He snorts, one of his hands gently stroking at your lower back, fingers dipping under the hem of your shirt. “Bet you thought I was just gonna lay back and let you do all the work without even giving you anything in return?”

Jax let you lead, he never said anything about not including you in this.

It takes everything in you not to roll your eyes, just when he was being cute he had to go and try to take back the control. Whether it was because he needed to be in control to feel comfortable or just because he wanted to get back at you for easily turning him into an embarrassing little mess, though you knew it was likely a little of both. You did sort of take the reigns from him.

His hand slipped under your shirt but never left your back as you sat back up in his lap. Your hand took his free hand and slipped it over your thigh to your ass and of course, he had to give it a good squeeze. This time you roll your eyes, a small smile tugging on your lips. “Then how about we do this together? I’m sure,” you push your hips downwards on his neglected cock, “this little guy is feeling pretty neglected.”

Jax choked out a “rude” at the comment, caught off guard at the action but quickly bounced back. “I’ll have you know it’s perfectly proportionate to my height.”

“Another time.” Your hand returns to his ear but instead of just the one, you tug them both forcing his head back. Jax lets out a loud moan, whimpering and shuddering under you before your hips start moving against his.

The trail of drool returns in no time as the two of you move against one another, your fingers stay tangled in his ears and he makes no attempts at moving, only using one hand to pull you down into a messy wet kiss. It’s not often but his teeth separate enough for his tongue to slip out, the two of you learned early on how to work around his teeth and the rare occasions that included his tongue.

Both of you move like a well-oiled machine against one another, when open mouth kisses become too much, at risk of him biting his or your tongue the two of you move to kiss one another elsewhere. He kisses your neck while you’re kissing his shoulder.

The wet spot at his crotch only grows, an occasional glance downwards shows him it’s not just his own mess now but yours as well and fuck, if that isn’t hot as hell. At least he’s feeling less alone and a tad less embarrassed now that he knows this sticky mess isn’t entirely his fault.

Moans and ramblings of breathy pleas for more fill the room, the kisses quickly get abandoned the closer the two of you get.

The hand at his ears leaves, and both of your arms move to wrap around his neck before burying your face into the space between your arm and his neck. Both of you know neither of you will last much longer, all you want to do is hold tightly onto him, and he takes the lead.

Large hands wrap around your hips, and with little effort, he’s working your hips against his own. The bite of your nails on his shoulders lets him know you are close, and even when you let out a loud cry beside his head indicating you came he doesn’t stop.

It’s sensitive and borders on discomfort but you don’t stop him, he still hasn’t finished. Unraveling your arms from his neck you reach up and take hold of his face, your thumb slips into the side of his mouth against his teeth and applies just a gentle pressure to get him to open his mouth.

His tongue rolls out and you jump at that chance to kiss him. These kisses are his favourite and he’s ashamed to admit that the kisses are more than enough to push him over the edge.

Jax cries out a slew of cuss words that get censored, even the moment of ecstasy can’t be ruined by those obnoxious censorship sounds. His hips jerk a few more times before stilling, all though his hands stay glued to you the rest of him relaxes and slumps into the pillows.

His mind is too far gone to even process that he really just came to a bunch of kissing and grinding. For fuck sake his dick is still covered too. Ah shit, that’ll be an interesting mess to clean up.

You slump forward against him and simply lie there, soaking up the afterglow. Or tried to that is because, of course, Jax had to open his mouth.

“Gross.” He groans and finally removes a hand from your hip to rub his face.

Gross because of the mess in his pants, gross because he’s embarrassed that he didn’t last long—because he knows for a fact now that he came twice. He fucking came from you tugging on his ear and now that memory will forever haunt him and have him more aware the next time you go to scratch his head and ears.

Overall he’s not actually unhappy and you can tell, despite the annoyance plastered on his face you can tell he actually enjoyed it. If anything he’s probably trying to balance out his emotions and process everything that happened.

The annoyance pools into one of his iconic grins and you can’t help but feel a tinge of fear in that grin. There’s something in that grin that tells you that this isn’t over.

#jax #jax x reader #tadc #tadc jax #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus x reader

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minervamagicka · 9 months

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TS4 Default Replacement: Horse "Skin"

Day 1 Edition (BETA/TESTING) - Adults/Elders Only

at the behest of the public, here's the "Day 1" default replacement I did. DL & info under the cut.

So, okay. Honesty time! This isn't tested outside of CAP at all. I don't know how it'll look in-game. I guess that'll be something you all find out, it could like hot garbage for all I know.

Alongside that, is the biggest strongest flashiest disclaimer I could do; I made this in an hour on the day of the expac's release, it's rough as hell, it is NOT a final product and is IS a beta. If you end up having problems with it, I highly encourage just not using it until better and more-refined versions of it or others come out.

Also I default-replaced both the "normal" and "muscled" versions of the diffuse, so the muscle slider in CAP won't show any texture change any more with this mod. This'll change in newer, more official releases.

Anyways,

Credit/link to me if you intend to edit, replicate or otherwise use this .package or especially my textures as a base for your own derivative work. I did a lot of reverse-engineering in my own time of the TS4 files to understand the file structure & to get this to work, so this is the very least you can do.

Do not sell or post behind a paywall, even a timed one. This tumblr is anti-paywall to the extreme. This includes any content that might be created under Rule One. Do not do this. I will think you are an asshole. I have had issues with this in the past and my tolerance for it is absolutely zero. Additionally this asset includes parts that are not owned wholly by me, so you'd be profiting off the work of others as well!

Do not reupload. If you let me know if there's an issue with SFS, I'll reupload it myself. Please link to this post or to the .package on SFS when sharing.

Credits: SSO (used some of their textures in blending); TS4; me, baby!

Download [SFS]

#ts4 #ts4 horses #ts4cc #ts4 cc #ts4 horse ranch

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aplaceforstellasscribbles · 2 years

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Y'all I've been working on my original story for ten years.

#i just wrote myself up a rough timeline of the important part of the process from then until now #i don't remember exactly when i started writing it but it was either late 2011 or early 2012 #i was in 8th grade and either 13 or 14 #god 13/14 year old me thought i was a genius #i do not still have the original version of my story and that is a good thing #the parts of it i remember were quite honestly fucked up #my best friend at the time was my beta reader #she loved everything i wrote #anyway i really don't know how she never called me out on some of the stuff i made her read #i'm serious it was bad #what was wrong with 13 year old me

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yunhoszn · 2 months

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save a horse, ride a cowboy

PAIRING jeong yunho x f!reader

WORD COUNT 12.25k

GENRES fluff﹒angst﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, reader is a city girl but i tried not using too many gendered terms, cowboy!yunho RAHHHHH, mentions of food, reader has a boyfriend for most of the fic (an oc) but there’s no real infidelity, reader embarrasses themselves on what i’d say is a few occasions too many, yunho is down bad, masturbation (m! and brief f! receiving), lowkey voyeurism, a really bad dad joke, horse riding scene bc i feel that’s pivotal for a cowboy fic, lots and lots of kissing, marking, teasing, vaginal fingering x2, oral sex (f! receiving) x2, multiple orgasms, very slight edging, praise, pet names (baby, babe, and princess oops), unprotected sex (BE SAFE PLS I BEG), cowgirl position, pull out method, missionary position, creampie lol, ending is cute but also kinda up for interpretation? i guess <3

SUMMARY when your grandparents decided to retire and take a summer’s long vacation in celebration, they leave their house in your care. at least you don’t have to worry about feeding the farm animals. but you do have to worry about the tall, handsome cowboy who does.

MORE AND SHE’S DONE oh my god, this fic actually pulled so much out of me i think i was the one seeing stars by the end.. 😭 but i’m so proud of it and the goals i tried meeting while writing. first of all the length??? insane for me. i can hardly get myself to write anything longer thank 5k 😞 THATS ENOUGH ABOUT ME THO,,, this fic was heavily inspired by the django performance if u couldn’t tell by the banner 😝 and i’d first like to thank the academy aka @kimsohn for encouraging me to write this and fueling my delusions ilysm maya <3 i’d also like to give a huge thank u to @bro-atz TYSM FOR BETAING AND HELPING WITH SCENES BRO ur my life saver fr <3 PLS PLS PLS REBLOG IF U ENJOYED!!

Growing up, you weren’t the biggest fan of trips to your grandparents’ farm in the rural countryside.

You were born in a big city, full of all the glitz and glam. There were bright lights that lit the skyline at night, distracting from the stars that illuminated above. The wide open space was blocked by high towers and large skyscrapers. You were accustomed to the sound of bustling pedestrians and the obnoxious honking of cars in the streets. There was seldom an evening of complete silence.

Everything was so tightly packed together, within walking distance if you didn’t feel like hopping in a car for a fifteen minute drive. You appreciated the insanity of the train station in the mornings before school, the metro so busy with students and working class individuals. You came into contact with numerous strangers throughout your day to day life.

However, every summer until you were a senior in high school was a different story.

Your parents wanted to keep you humble, you supposed, shipping you off to your grandparents’ for three months. Living in the city kept people too sheltered, too primped and polished for the real world. They wanted you to have that exposure, to experience what it was like to live without the fanciness of urbanization. The nine months out of the year that you spent in the city stunted that exposure, though.

When you’d arrive at their farm, luggage stacked like you were taking a trip to London or Paris, you felt like a glorified version of Regina George. Maybe Blair Waldorf. Elle Woods? You weren’t even rich like that. Your parents were nice, middle class people. There was just something about cow manure and the fear of stepping on a freshly laid egg that made it difficult to adjust to the setting.

It was most likely your stubbornness throughout your childhood that held you back even as you got older and more educated. You thought after graduating high school, the three-months-long “retreat” would come to an end. You’d only need to visit when necessary, maybe a week max. And that was true to an extent. During your university years, you only visited the farm around once a year. You were too consumed with school to even go home sometimes.

And then your grandparents decided to retire.

Their farm had supplied the town over with produce and other home-grown items for as long as you could remember. But they were getting older and no one in the family was willing to inherit the farm or its responsibilities. In celebration of their retirement, they planned a grand vacation to visit multiple countries. Their itinerary spanned an entire summer, just like your trips to the farm when you were younger.

Because you were the only one familiar enough with the area, they enlisted you to housesit while they were gone. You tried to get out of it, but they didn’t trust anyone else as much as you, despite your convictions about country life. So you reluctantly agreed, packing up your things to prepare for another grueling summer at the farm one last time.

But there was a bit of a setback.

”What do you mean someone’s living in the farmhouse behind their house?” You shriek into the receiver, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear as you zip up your final bag. Your mom sighs on the other end.

”Your grandma just only now told me, apparently it slipped her mind,” you can hear the sympathy in her tone. “He’s this boy who grew up in the town and he’s gonna take over the farm for them on the condition that they still live on the property. She said he shouldn’t get in your way and he’s expecting your presence. You’ll only see him if you ever actually go out to the farm and when he brings groceries to the house.”

”Great. Another thing I didn’t sign up for.” You mutter, giving your bedroom a once over to make sure you’re not forgetting anything. “Is there anything else I should know before I get there, like a secret pet or maybe a family living in the attic?”

”Watch the attitude, Y/N,” she warns, and you shut up immediately. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal. You’re a grown adult and you’d rather spend your summer going out with your friends, but you already told your grandparents you would do this for them. It’ll be over before you know it.”

You sigh, nodding even though she can’t see it. At least you didn’t have to worry about caring for their farm animals. It was time to think of this as a staycation rather than torture. Sure, your friends were going to be living it up in the Bahamas for a week and your boyfriend was going to be here while you were surrounded by nothing but flat landscape for acres.

Perhaps it was good for you that there would be someone else on the property. You might’ve started to feel scared being alone in the middle of nowhere for so long. Though, your boyfriend probably won’t be the biggest fan of you staying within the vicinity of another man for three months. You’d just deal with that later.

The drive to your grandparents’ farm is actually more peaceful than anything else. Driving for long periods of time wasn’t your favorite thing to do, but doing it by yourself with nothing but your music filling your ears was a sort of therapy. It allowed you to come to terms with your fate for the summer and what it could entail, even if it wasn’t exactly what you had in mind.

Seeing the lush greenery for miles upon miles as you neared their home evoked a sense of tranquility within you. If you kept a positive outlook on your situation, you would make it through these next few months unscathed and your sanity still intact. Maybe you despised the wide open space for years when you were a kid, but now that you’re an adult, you think you could learn to appreciate it and its beauty.

As long as the guy living in the farmhouse didn’t bother you like your grandmother said, everything would be—

Oh.

You pull up in front of the house, already thrown for a loop by the tall, very handsome stranger walking his dog back from the mailbox. His dark hair obscured his eyes, a bandana tied around his neck to match with the one hanging off the Border Collie’s collar. The two turn around at the sound of your engine, stopping in their tracks once you’ve parked.

He brings a hand up to shield the sun from his eyes, watching cautiously as you park slowly. You don’t know why you’re so anxious, it’s not like you’ll be interacting with him much during your stay anyways. There’s something about his slender figure and the fact that he was so clearly dedicated to what he does upon first glance that it makes you feel shy. You suck in a sharp breath before deciding to exit your vehicle, wiping clammy palms on your denim shorts. You’re starting to regret not dressing a little cuter, a little more presentable.

His features soften upon recognizing you, the pretty granddaughter that your grandparents showed him prior to leaving for their trip. The hand sheltering his face falls to his side and he gives you a warm smile, somehow warmer and brighter than the sweltering summer sun. You’d always been told not to talk to strangers, to keep your distance for your own safety, but you can’t help mirroring his expression with a small wave.

“H-Hi,” your voice wobbles and you kind of want to die just a bit. “I’m Y/N. My grandparents mentioned you lived in the farmhouse out back, but didn’t give me a name or face to expect.”

He extends his arm out and you shake his hand, albeit slightly nervously. His eyes squint when he glances between you and his dog. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I’m Yunho, and this is Yeoreum.”

The name is fitting for the red and white colored Border Collie, her tongue sticking out as she stares up at you with big eyes that almost resemble her owner’s. You bend down to pet her, patting the soft tufts of fur on her head and appreciating her licks of excitement. Yunho laughs, whistling to catch her attention.

“Yunho and Yeoreum,” you repeat, a tiny grin on your face. “Befitting. Does she come with the property?”

“Unfortunately, no. She’s spoken for,” he teases, a pout on his features. “But she can visit whenever you’d like. Jokes aside, did you need any help moving stuff into the house?”

”That would be great, actually!” You scratch the back of your neck, lips pursing. Yunho waits for you to unlock the trunk of your car and places Yeoreum’s leash in your possession, making quick work transporting your bags inside. What was just supposed to be some light assistance, has evidently become him doing everything on his own while you stand and look pretty with his dog.

You didn’t bring too much with you since you didn’t have plans to leave while you were housesitting and your grandparents weren’t so old fashioned that they didn’t have a washing machine. Still, you felt useless allowing this stranger you’d just met to do all this manual labor on your behalf.

”Does he always do this?” You murmur to the Border Collie, falling to a seat on the lowest front porch step. She doesn’t give you a response (not that you expected her to), but pants happily in lieu of one, craning her head so you can scratch the spot behind her ear.

“You’re a guest, it’s just good hospitality for me to help.” Yunho says as he comes out of the house, stationing himself in front of you with his hands on his hips, thumbs in his belt loops.

“There’s a difference between helping and doing the work yourself. You’re just being modest,” you push yourself up to hand him Yeoreum’s leash. “But thank you anyway, that was really nice. I’m so tired from driving up here, so I think I would’ve collapsed doing all that back and forth.”

”You should go rest,” he glances at the house behind you. “There’s a whole three months of farm life ahead of you, so don’t wear your pretty little self out just yet.”

Yunho salutes to you and takes his leave, walking around your grandparents’ house toward what you assume is the farmhouse. Your eyes are wide and your cheeks feel hot, and you’re well aware that it’s not because of the summer heat. Your fingers clutch at the material of your t-shirt and you shake it to fan yourself.

It seemed like you were in for a bumpy ride these next few months. But like you reiterated prior to arriving, everything would be just fine so long as you and farm boy went your separate routes and lived your separate lives.

Yeah. Things would be alright. You hope.

It’s a week into your stay on your grandparents’ farm when you bump into Yunho again.

You’re toweling your neck after getting out of the shower, heading into the kitchen to make yourself another bowl of cereal for breakfast. So far the only downside has been your inability to cook a decent meal. Takeout or your boyfriend sleeping over were usually your saving grace, but without having either of those options, you’ve stuck to microwaveable things.

The sight of Yunho unloading groceries onto the counter has you squealing and nearly jumping out of your own skin. He flinches at your volume, knocking over the bag of rice resting against the vase in the center. Thankfully it was still sealed shut, if not there would’ve been a mess of rice grains all over the island counter. His clumsiness has you slapping a palm over your mouth to silence your giggles, not wanting to embarrass him.

”Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you…” You apologize sheepishly, folding your towel over your arm and placing it on a barstool nearby.

“N-No, you’re fine! I shouldn’t have just let myself in, it’s kinda just a habit. You deserve your privacy without having to worry about whether or not I’m gonna barge in unannounced.” He dismisses your apology with a wave of his hand. “I’ll just put these up for you and then I’ll be on my way.”

”Can I help?” You waddle over to him, fingers laced behind your back. “I’d feel bad watching you put my groceries away for me after going out and getting them.”

Yunho gestures for you to occupy the space beside him with a small smile that takes solace at the corner of his mouth. The two of you do everything in complete silence, still not entirely used to each other’s presence because of the lack of crossing paths. As you’re finishing up, you start grabbing the items you need for your cereal. He raises an eyebrow at you.

”You don’t want something a little more filling?” He suddenly questions, jutting his chin at your bowl.

”I would love that if I knew how to cook,” you laugh. “Ironic isn’t it? The granddaughter of two farmers can’t cook to save their life.”

Yunho shakes his head with a chuckle, ruffling his hair. “Well, I don’t have to feed the horses for another hour if you’d like for me to whip up something better than a bowl of cereal.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows furrow. Despite growing up with the mindset that you were above the farm life your grandparents tried to impose on you, you hated feeling like you were coming across as entitled. You didn’t want Yunho to think you were lazy or that you were too good. “You don’t have to do that. I can survive on instant ramen and cereal, I swear.”

”Y/N,” he says your name with a certain authority to it, and you’ve never loved the sound of your name coming out of someone else’s mouth so much before. “I want to. I’m not the world’s greatest chef or anything, but I have a couple tricks up my sleeve.”

”Okay, then,” you nod, taking a seat at the island. You watch in awe as he dances around the kitchen and prepares something for you. It’s weird, not in the sense that you feel awkward around this complete stranger, but because you feel the opposite. You feel comfortable around him, like you’ve known him for a while. It’s almost like Yunho has been a casual part of your life for much longer than a week. He’s easy to get along with, easy to mold into what you’re used to.

And that’s weird because you have a boyfriend. A boyfriend who cooks dinner for you most nights, but somehow has never made you feel this taken care of. It throws you off. That should definitely not be the case. How is this man doing this in one week and your boyfriend couldn’t in two years?

The guilt settles in the pit of your stomach quickly. Sure, your boyfriend might’ve had a habit of forgetting important dates and didn’t give you half as much attention as he should’ve, but did that warrant the emotions brewing in your chest? Could that excuse this notion that maybe it was time to finally call it quits?

You zone out as Yunho finishes cooking your breakfast, too inside of your head to even fawn over the doting and slight coddling he was doing. Maybe you need to have a long conversation with Seojun about your relationship and where you want it to go. Perhaps it was a nice idea to invite him out to visit the farm, it could do you both some good.

“Ta-da!” Yunho holds out a plate to you, the sparkle in his eyes effectively pushing out any thoughts of your boyfriend and the shame that was picking at you. You can’t help but reciprocate his expression when you see how delicious the food looks.

He’d made you omurice, the ketchup on top in cute squiggly lines to form whiskers and a little dog face. You accept the plate gratifyingly, your fingers brushing as you do so. He smiles shyly, eyeing you carefully while you take the first bite. You don’t remember the last time you had a home cooked breakfast, accustomed to the occasional muffin at the coffee shop near your house.

”’Not the world’s greatest chef’ my ass,” you grumble, pouting at his humbleness and his inability to be bad at anything. “I might just ask you to have breakfast with me every morning if you can chef it up this well.”

That melodic laugh of his rings in your ears, his elbows resting on the island and his chin in his palms. “I’m sure Yeoreum would appreciate a companion who isn’t me.”

“How long have you had her?” You ask, shoveling more omurice into your mouth. If you weren’t so hungry and so appeased by how delicious it was, you’d feel bad for ruining his hard work. The ketchup no longer looked like a dog, but rather a splatter of red all over your plate.

“Almost four years now. I had her for a year before I met your grandparents. She adores them, so it’s no surprise that she likes you too.” He has this fond gaze in his eyes as he talks about his beloved Border Collie and it makes your heart ache.

The fact that he has such a good relationship with your grandparents seals the deal for you. Well, it would seal the deal if you were single. Yunho is like the ideal man that every parent would want their daughter to bring home. He knows how to cook, knows how to clean. He’s adept around the house, skilled in yard work and other random jobs like fixing leaky pipes and installing new appliances. He’s gentle, but doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty.

Your parents would never meet him, though. After the summer was over, you’d be back in Seoul and he would still be here, a distant memory. You forcibly laugh away the thought, excusing it as your response to his words and continuing the conversation about his dog.

Perhaps this stay would be harder to get through than you thought.

As the weeks pass you by, you find yourself becoming more and more infatuated with Jeong Yunho.

Cooking breakfast for you in the morning has become a regular thing. Monitoring him at the stove with sleepy eyes and a mug of fresh coffee in your hands has ingrained itself into your routine. Yeoreum called the spot beneath your stool her own now, laying there as her owner made your food. You think the transition from seeing him as just this comforting presence, this kind individual, to wanting something more was almost too smooth.

Especially right now as you sit on the back porch sipping on some lemonade, admiring the cowboy as he transfers bales of hay from the bed of his pickup truck to the pigpen and the cattle pen. He pauses in between trips, stripping off his flannel and tying it around his waist. He lifts the hem of the white tank top he’s wearing and uses it to wipe sweat from his forehead, revealing the toned abdomen he had been hiding from you up until now.

You feel like you’re going insane, trying to pretend like you’re reading your book as you not so subtly gawk at his muscles straining with each bale he lifts. It’s crazy really, the effect he has on you doing his fucking job. You’ve made it a habit to sit out here and stare at him under the guise of various other things. Aside from being borderline obsessive, it’s horrible because you’re still very much in a relationship.

Most people would feel a hell of a lot worse than you do, like their entire world was crumbling between their fingertips just for finding someone else attractive. But for some reason, as time has continued to roll on, that guilt— that self-preservation— has faded. You’re dipping into another emotion that you’re too scared to explore.

Yunho takes a break from his labor to guzzle down a bottle of water, his chest heaving up and down from exertion. Had you been paying attention to anything other than the view of the handsome man, you would’ve noticed the glass sliding out of your grasp, the condensation becoming far too dense to keep a solid grip on the cup. In the midst of drooling over him, your lemonade falls to the ground with a loud clanging noise.

Your reflexes are only swift enough to save your book, but the drink spills everywhere else and you wince at how embarrassing the situation is. You hurry inside to grab a towel before he can see the mortification enveloping your features. He seemed like the observant type, like one scan of your face could tell him everything he needs to know without a single word exchanged. Your fingers curl around the edge of the counter, blowing a raspberry while you attempt to regulate your blood pressure.

Through the window above the kitchen sink, you make out a confused Yunho, brows furrowed as he looks in the direction of the house. He worried over you entirely too much, particularly when you take into account the fact that all you did was think about him in manners not necessarily safe for work. Maybe you were just delirious. That was the only logical explanation for why you’re spiraling.

The high temperatures of the summer coupled with your surroundings are contributing to your change in behavior. Yes. That made sense. You weren’t crazy.

With a bit more reprieve, you’re able to grab a tea towel and head back outside to clean up your mess. (Not unaccompanied by a couple glances in Yunho’s direction, but that’s fine. Perfectly healthy even. It’s normal to check up on a friend. At least, that’s what you tell yourself, but who’s holding you accountable?)

“You know you’ve been making me breakfast every morning without asking for anything in return,” you speak up one morning, chin resting on the island. “Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

Yunho purses his lips as he hands you your plate. “Nah, I like cooking for you.”

You try to ignore the way that has your heart fluttering in your chest, try to ignore the warmth blooming beneath your skin. Your eyes glance down at your food to avoid eye contact, bringing your chopsticks up to your lips. “Okay, well I wanna do something for you.”

Despite mumbling the words, he hears you anyway and smiles to himself as he takes a sip from his mug. He rolls up the sleeves of his denim button up, reaching down to scratch behind Yeoreum’s ear, the area that you’ve learned is her favorite. She pants joyfully, jumping on his leg excitedly. He looks between the two of you.

”Missy here needs a bath,” he says, cooing at her. “I was gonna give her one later, after I cleaned out the stables, but if you don’t mind doing it.”

”I’d do just about anything for that precious girl,” you nod enthusiastically. “Consider it done.”

This is how you end up out back, dog shampoo in one hand and the water hose in the other.

Yeoreum’s signature bandana and collar lay on one of the rocking chairs on the porch, the dog looking so different without her accessories as you prepare to bathe her. You wet her fur generously, squeezing enough shampoo into your palm to lather it on. Compared to your childhood pets, she’s pretty well behaved.

She’s probably one of the only dogs who’s ever actually enjoyed taking a bath, sitting still for you while you scrub and rinse and repeat. You take your time with cleaning her, wanting to make sure you do your best as a thank you for every plate Yunho has ever made you. Usually, this isn’t something you would jump at the opportunity to do. Somehow, being back at the farm this past month or so has done everything your parents tried to do when you were younger.

It could’ve had to do with the desensitization of being here every summer for so long that it just never stuck when you were grade school age. But now, fully grown and experiencing this all over again on your own, with new faces at your side, it’s like you’re being exposed to something different. You can see why your mom and dad didn’t want the city life to become a dependency.

You preferred the view of cabs and cafés over cows and chickens in the past, but now you found a sense of familiarity in them. You’d always want to go home as soon as you got here. Unlike other kids, you wanted your summer to be over as quickly as possible. You couldn’t imagine going home after this, though. This unveiled attachment to the farm you detested when you were younger could only be accredited to one person, and it was a little frightening.

He constantly brought out parts of you that you didn’t know existed. This enigma, the one that emphasized how big of a role he’s fulfilling in the short period of time you’ve been here, drills itself into your brain every day. You knew you had to acknowledge it sooner or later, but it was just less of a hassle to act like it wasn’t screaming at you. Your fear of change was a more pertinent issue to ignore, so you let it consume all else.

While getting lost in your thoughts, Yeoreum starts shaking and startles you, causing your hold on the hose to loosen, water spraying everywhere. The diversion has you losing your footing and slipping in the mud. You shriek, though it does nothing to block the stream that drenches you, your clothes getting wet. The universe decides it’s not on your side, because you happened to wear a white shirt. Why you chose to do that when you knew you were bathing a dog, you have no clue, but it was a little too late for regrets.

Yeoreum jumps out of the basin you had her in and runs to the farmhouse just as Yunho’s walking out, fresh from the shower. You forgot that he was cleaning the stables at the same time you were giving the Border Collie her bath, but now you’re starting to wish you waited until afterward just in case you needed the assistance. And well, you definitely needed the assistance.

Plucking the tail end of the mishap, Yunho’s initial reaction is to laugh at your misfortune, but the closer he gets to the scene, the laughter dies out in his throat. Your top is sheer enough that he can map out the outline of your black bra. It leaves very little to the imagination and he thinks he might fall to his knees right here.

Since your grandparents told him that you’d be house sitting while they were away and proudly showcased a photo of you, he’s been enthralled by you. You had the face of an angel, or maybe a really enticing demon, he hasn’t cogitated it much yet.

He swallows thickly, hoping to keep his composure as he makes his way to you. His hand is a little shaky when it reaches to take the hose from you, squeezing his eyes closed and switching off the water. He stays there for a few seconds to mentally prep himself for an up-close-and-personal look at you, even going as far as holding his breath.

“Uh— you— um— you should go inside and dry off before you catch a cold,” Yunho keeps his eyes cast downward. He’s grateful that you don’t note how red the tips of his ears are, or how he thinks the sky is suddenly much more interesting than your face.

Your head cocks to the side in confusion. “What do you mean ‘before I catch a cold’? It’s, like, a million degrees out.”

“The temperature drops at night and the sun’s setting soon. I’ll handle it from here. Yeoreum ran off, so I gotta chase after her anyway and I don’t think you want her to soak you more than she already has.” He’s insistent on shooing you away and getting you inside of the house. You huff.

”Okay… If you say so…”

Reluctantly, you spin around and traverse back. The draft of the air conditioning has you shivering, rubbing up and down your arms as you enter the bathroom to inspect the damage. Your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets when you finally see yourself. No wonder Yunho was so adamant on staving you off like you were the plague.

In your defense, you didn’t think the hose won the battle by that much. You assumed you’d just gotten everything above your shoulders wet, but no. You were practically doused head to toe. And the clear display of your brassiere under your clothes was the last thing on your mind.

He was stronger than you. Actually, he was a more respectful person than you. You would’ve gawked at him shamelessly if the roles were reversed. But at least you’re self aware! Right? The first step in recognizing that you have a problem, is admitting that you have a problem. That’s what you think they say in those addiction commercials, but you could be wrong.

Wow. Now you were comparing him to drugs. Though, you suppose there isn’t that huge of a difference. Both had equal success rates in terms of getting people high and then making it hard to wane off their effects.

You really had to quit it with the metaphor usage.

It’s around midnight that night when the lightbulb in the bathroom goes out, halting you from finishing your bedtime routine.

You’re exhausted to say the least, face damp from washing it and one of those fuzzy hairbands with the animal ears perched on your head. You were ready to crash out, but there were still a couple things you needed to do before that. It was proving to be a little difficult in the pitch black bathroom. The window above the shower was too narrow to provide any sufficient moonlight.

With a low grumble, you shuffle into your slippers and make the short trek from your grandparents’ house to Yunho in the farmhouse. You hug yourself when a strong breeze blows past, your flimsy t-shirt and sleep shorts doing hardly anything to block the cool summer night’s air.

A piece of you feels a little bad for bothering him so late, but you have no idea how to change a lightbulb. You don’t even know where the lightbulbs are. Besides, you think you’d electrocute yourself if you made an attempt to do it on your own.

You huff out a sigh and bring your knuckles up to knock at his door, waiting patiently for a response. He’s not asleep, you know this because he’s mentioned that his internal clock doesn’t turn off until two in the morning. Circadian rhythms were an odd concept, so to each their own.

“Yunho! It’s Y/N! Open up!”

When a few minutes have passed, you try the knob. Maybe it was a bit… too presumptuous of you to enter his home without explicit permission. Yes, you’d known each other for the better part of a month and a half, and yes, you’d gotten very close in that timeframe, but did that constitute your actions?

Whether or not the answer to that question was a yes or a no, you really wish you would’ve just waited outside. As you venture further in search of the cowboy, you stumble upon something you shouldn’t have.

Standing in the hallway on the other side of his bedroom, the door ajar at least an inch, you catch a glimpse of him on his bed. That white tank top you’re so used to seeing him in is between his teeth, eyebrows knit together in pure pleasure as he fists his cock with a purpose. His nostrils are flared and whiny moans escape from behind the fabric.

His head falls back every now and then, eyes fluttering shut when he runs his thumb over the slit. He’s so focused that he doesn’t notice you, too entranced with chasing his high. Your lips part as you watch him fuck up into his hand, his shirt slipping from his mouth when he groans out a curse.

Just as quickly as you become distracted by the sight of Yunho jerking off, you become aware of what you’re doing. You flee the scene before you get yourself caught, exiting the farmhouse as quietly as you can. The lightbulb can wait until morning, it wasn’t that important, honestly. You’re in a daze the entire walk back to your grandparents house, goosebumps littering your arms and the image of him in such an obscene state burned into your brain.

You fall backwards onto your bed, staring at the ceiling in hopes of willing away the path your mind is beginning to wander towards. All you can think about is the sight of him so desperate for release, large hand wrapped around his dick, abdomen contracting with need. You know you weren’t supposed to see, weren’t supposed to bear witness to something so personal.

It’s difficult to push out the nasty, inappropriate thoughts clouding your head. His expressions contorted into absolute bliss. His slender fingers could probably do so much more than your own, could probably reach places you’d never even dreamed of. And fuck, his dick, prettier and bigger than any other you’ve ever seen.

Your chest blushes with heat, an embarrassment washing over you when you realize you’re turned on. You should feel terrible for intruding on Yunho’s privacy like that, especially without him knowing, but all you can do is want him more than you already do. That craving for something deeper, carnal, fans the flame engulfing you, dragging you further into the sick and twisted hell you’ve created for yourself.

Yunho has been nothing but welcoming, kind and gentle with you, someone he didn’t even know the name of until last month. Someone who’s done everything in their power to repress this lifestyle for so long. And for some reason, it just comes so easily with him. You don’t feel forced to enjoy living on the farm. He makes you laugh and puts a smile on your face effortlessly. He has you wondering if life can actually be this simple.

But when all is said and done, there will be somebody else waiting for you back home. Somebody who doesn’t know how to whip up omurice with freshly laid eggs. Somebody who isn’t even a dog person, who thinks pets are nuisances. Somebody who doesn’t live in the farmhouse behind your grandparents’. It’s a bitter pill to swallow.

If you touch yourself with tears streaming down your cheeks to the thought of the man who has eyes that resemble the night sky, well that’s between you and whatever higher being exists out there.

You sit across from Yunho with bated breath, afraid that if you opened your mouth he would know your dirty secret. You avoid his eyes for the same reason, like one good look at you would reveal what you were trying to hide.

Yunho himself was doing his best to pretend like he hadn’t masturbated to the thought of you last night. He liked to think he was good at keeping his feelings under wraps. It wasn’t like he didn’t know you were in a relationship, he’s heard you on the phone before. He stays silent as he fries rice in a pan and has some bread in the toaster. The only sounds in the kitchen are sizzling and the pants coming from Yeoreum under your stool.

In the time that you’ve been here, never once has it been awkward between you like this. The conversation usually doesn’t stop flowing, rolling on and on and filtering into things that don’t pertain to the original subject. He rarely has his back to you for too long, turning over his shoulder to shoot you a grin every here and now.

Both of you go to speak at the same time as a means of salvaging the morning from eternal strain. You stare at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. Truly, you were two birds of a feather, or however that saying goes.

”Sorry, I don’t know why I’m being so quiet today,” Yunho says, though he knows it’s a lie. “I guess I had a long night.”

”Oh, that reminds me,” his mention of the previous night has you recalling the reason you went out to the farmhouse in the first place. “The light in my bathroom went out, do you think you can fix it for me?”

“Yeah, for sure,” he begins preparing your plate. “Actually, I have this joke about lightbulbs. You wanna hear it?”

Your lips curl into a smile, already attempting to hold back your laughter. With a raised eyebrow, you respond, “What is it?”

”What did the lightbulb say to the light switch?” He asks nonchalantly, taking a bite from his own piece of toast. You’re failing miserably at acting like you don’t think the joke is funny, although he hasn’t even told you the punchline yet.

”I dunno, Yunho, what did the lightbulb say to the light switch?”

“‘You turn me on.’”

There’s a pregnant pause as the joke resonates and you can’t stop yourself from cackling at how stupid it is. He joins in, but mostly because your laughter is contagious. His chest swells with pride at his successful landing, feeling like he’s on top of the world just for bringing a smile to your face. God, he was down tremendously bad.

Your spoon clatters onto the counter as you lean over, a hand clapped over your mouth as your boisterous laughing simmers into a giggle. Yunho leans into you slightly, matching your energy as he munches on his toast. This is what has you conflicted, so at war with yourself. The proximity should have you pulling away, but something about him always reels you in, despite the consequences that await.

And unfortunately, those consequences come to a head today.

“Are you fucking serious, Y/N?”

You and Yunho jump back, whipping towards the source of the voice. Seojun stands there, his bags at his feet and his face crestfallen, disbelief written all over it. He shakes his head and turns to leave, you stumbling off of the barstool to follow behind him. The guilt you’ve only ever felt momentarily settles deep in your chest and deep in your stomach, though you technically haven’t done anything wrong.

Your abruptness startles Yeoreum and she’s up in a heartbeat, tailing behind you curiously. Yunho has to rush to stop her, but a part of himself wants to do the same. No matter how much he likes you, he’s never wanted to be the cause of your relationship falling apart. He wanted you organically, not like this.

”Seojun! Wait!” You call after him, holding up a hand to block out the harsh sunlight, tripping over your slippers. He scoffs.

“What am I waiting for? You to spew some bullshit about how nothing’s going on between the two of you? I’m not fucking stupid, Y/N. I’m not blind.” He pops open his trunk and throws his bags in haphazardly.

”You’re being unreasonable,” you exclaim, rounding the car so you’re directly in front of him. “There is nothing going on. We’ve just gotten to know each other since we live in the same vicinity. Did you want me to stay here for three months and hole myself away with no other human contact?”

“He was just supposed to be the guy who lived in the farmhouse. He wasn’t supposed to bother you. That’s what you told me, remember?” Seojun is losing his patience, something that has always been the root of the problem when you’ve gotten into past arguments. “How do you expect me to react when I come to surprise you and see you being so close to another man?”

“I was laughing at a joke he told me. You’re making this a bigger deal than it is and blowing everything completely out of proportion. I’m sorry that it never came up that we became friends, but I didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve never once cheated on you in the three years we’ve been together and for you to accuse me of that is so fucking low of you.” You’re not going to cry, not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s won. He thrives off of seeing your vulnerability and you won’t let him have it.

“I saw the way he was looking at you,” he seethes, balling his hands into fists at his sides. “I know that look because that’s how I used to look at you.”

A laugh devoid of any humor leaves you and he blinks. “That’s how you ‘used to’ look at me? When did you stop? And why am I just finding this out?”

”That’s not— that isn’t what I meant, Y/N—“

”No, Seojun. You did,” you glance away from him, nipping at the inside of your cheek. “We’re grasping for straws. We aren’t going anywhere anymore and we haven’t for a while now. That’s why we're standing here arguing over this. I just want to know why you didn’t just tell me.”

”I’m too complacent,” he sighs, breathing through his nose. “I was too comfortable with you and I didn’t know how to let you go or walk away. But you’re right, there isn’t anything for us to save, and it seems like we’re both ready to move on.”

“What does that mean?”

“I saw how you were looking at him, too. You might not have acted on it, but you have feelings for him. I’m not gonna stay and hold you back.” Seojun unlocks his car, opening the door. “And for what it’s worth, you won’t be wasting your time.”

You don’t respond, instead humming and letting him drive off. Once his car is far enough out of your view, you go back into the house. There’s an indescribable emotion that hostages you, binding your wrists and tying you down metaphorically. You can’t seem to shake it.

Yunho is still in the kitchen, sitting on the floor with Yeoreum to keep her calm. He gazes up at you expectantly and you feel the tears you were suppressing from Seojun bubbling up. If you weren’t going to cry in front of your (now ex) boyfriend, you definitely weren’t going to cry in front of him.

With a trembling exhale, you force yourself to say, “I need to be alone.”

He understands empathetically, clipping on Yeoreum’s leash and leaving the house in the same breath. That in itself has you crying like a baby the moment you’re all by yourself. You hold your face in your hands, body shuddering with each sob you release.

I saw the way he was looking at you.

I saw how you were looking at him, too.

You had a lot to think about, and everything always seemed to circle back to Jeong Yunho.

A couple days escape you before you register you haven’t seen much of Yunho. After your breakup with Seojun, you really did need a bit of room to process it all, but you hadn’t realized just how much you depended on the cowboy’s presence until you were missing it.

You hadn’t meant to push him away, if that’s how he saw it. A night of bawling your eyes out with a pint of ice cream and The Vow was enough to cure you. However, it appears that he thought you needed more, going as far as putting a pin in your daily breakfast ritual. You aren’t sure how to extend an olive branch when you weren’t even trying to cause a rift between you in the first place.

Being with someone for three years may not seem like a lot, but that fraction of your life is stuck with you, like a thumbtack that refuses to come out of the wall. You’d had boyfriends before Seojun, but they weren’t nearly as serious. There weren't formal introductions between parents, no late night conversations that bleed into early mornings, no sleepovers and quick kisses before work.

Of course, after a certain point, those had just become habitual. You weren’t doing them because they evoked a sense of love or care anymore, but rather because you were familiar with them. It was safer to continue the pattern of waking up and falling asleep to Seojun on the other side of the bed, the intrusion of sunlight and the cacophony of traffic outside your window, even if you didn’t really want to.

And then you came here.

Somehow, returning to your grandparents’ farm was exactly what you needed to break through that cycle. As much as you would love to attest it to your location and discovering the appreciation your family wanted you to feel for it, you know the real reason. It’s all thanks to a certain cowboy.

Yunho’s feelings for you run far deeper than he could’ve imagined. He doesn’t know the extent of what happened with you and Seojun, but he thinks putting distance between you is better in the long run anyway. On the off chance you’re still together, he wants to preserve his heart. He’s handed it to someone else too easily in the past and he doesn’t want to make that mistake with you if you don’t feel the same.

But even on the off chance that you’ve broken up, he still wants to stop himself from falling further and harder than he already has. Without ill will, he doubts that you would give up the life you have in the city for this, for him. He’ll be perpetually chained to being a faint imprint on your memory of the summer. You’ll think back to the months you spent here and he’ll have played only a minor role.

It was wishful thinking, too hopeful of him to presume this would lead to a happy ending. You were from different worlds, led different lives. It was time for him to be realistic. And that meant implementing the space that was supposed to exist between you from the get go.

Though, you make it difficult when he bumps into you on the way back from the mailbox. Déjà vu, anyone?

Yeoreum is excited to see you, jumping onto her haunches to lick your face when you kneel to her level. You giggle, squeezing one eye shut as you balance yourself and hold her still so her weight doesn’t clamber you both onto the ground. Your fingers pet to top of her head softly as you coo, “Who’s a good girl?”

Yunho physically winces when his chest tightens at the sight of his two favorite girls. The word ‘distance’ bounces around his head like a pinball, reminding him what he’s supposed to be doing. He just can’t bring himself to walk away. Especially when you look at him with those pretty eyes of yours.

“Hey…” You start, steeling your tone to ensure it’s even. “I’m sorry if it seemed like I was avoiding you or something. I needed some time to myself to figure things out. It wasn’t my intention to shut you out and put you on the back burner.”

”No, it’s okay. I had to figure stuff out on my own, too,” he uses his bandana to dab at the sweat perspiring on his forehead. “Did you sort through whatever you needed to?”

“I did,” you nod, standing upright. “Seojun and I broke up, so I had to sit with my feelings for a bit. We’ve been together for so long, I think I needed to remember what it was like to be without him, and then I realized that’s basically what I’ve been doing since I came here.”

”Oh.” Yunho’s lips form an ‘O’ shape, hands dragging down the sides of his pants. “I’m sorry— um— about your breakup.”

”Don’t be,” you smile, dismissing his sympathy. “It was a long time coming, honestly. We weren’t really in the relationship wholeheartedly anymore. There wasn’t a point in stringing it along, you know? But that’s enough about me, did you figure your own things out?”

”I thought I did,” he says, which is true considering he’d been mulling over what to do with his emotions subsequent to your argument with your ex. “And then I kinda steered off course. It’s alright, though, I think I like the new conclusion I’ve come to a lot better.”

You might be on the same page now, but there was an entire discussion that had to happen to solidify that. Following a very emotionally charged past couple days, you could do without that today. You’re both just glad that the air is cleared and you can resume building the bond that began forming the moment you stepped foot onto the farm, no restrictions whatsoever.

“Have you ever ridden a horse?”

You glance up from your book, this time genuinely reading it as Yunho fed the chickens and cleaned up their coop. He towers over you while he asks the question, his shadow thwarting off any direct sunlight. Your nose scrunches.

“When I was in, like, middle school? It’s been a minute,” you answer, making sure to bookmark the page you stopped at. “Why?

”Would you let me teach you how to do it again?” He nips at his lower lip, like he’s nervous you’ll say no. The truth of the matter is you’d say yes even if he asked you to commit arson, which is kind of a problem.

“That sounds fun,” you shrug. “What time should I be ready?”

”Uh, now?”

Okay, so sitting on a horse did not seem this scary when you were twelve.

It probably had to do with you being fearless and whatnot, but also because you did whatever your grandparents asked just to appease them. The faster you got off the damn horse, the faster you could go back inside and situate yourself in front of the TV. They thought they were making progress with you, but really you were outsmarting the outsmarters.

Sweat glazes on the underside of your hands, disrupting the security of your grasp on the reins. Yunho thought it would be wiser if he stayed on foot, guiding you and the horse around the perimeter of the pen. You hoped you didn’t look as afraid as you were, but you’re certain the slight quiver of your bottom lip gives it away.

“You’re doing fine, Y/N,” he reassures, maintaining a comforting amount of eye contact with you.

”Am I? Or does it just seem that way because you’re pulling the horse?” You quip, gripping the reins tighter when it steps over a rock and you sway a little. Your tone is laced with sarcasm, something Yunho hasn’t heard much of from you since you’ve met, but he thinks it’s cute that you resort to violence when you’re scared.

You notice the quirk of his mouth and how he’s trying not to laugh at your terror. It pisses you off solely because his humor isn’t unwarranted. You are being a bit over dramatic. He unties his bandana from around his neck and tosses it to you. “So you don’t callus your hands.”

He’s too thoughtful, too considerate for his own good, but that’s what roped you in. Even when you met for the first time, he had you figured out. The longer you stare at him, the more you realize just how perfect he is. If you were still in school and you were tasked with writing an essay about the summer you spent here, you’re sure the words would flow onto the pages flawlessly, without skipping a beat. Your prose would be so beautifully written, that even the most notable authors would be envious of your experience.

The only downside of this was the fact that time was beginning to seep through your fingers. There was mutuality in your feelings for each other, that was almost unequivocal. You were both just hesitant in taking that first leap. The uncertainty lied with that goodbye at the end of August, the one that’ll hurt a lot more than it was supposed to. But you know that postponing your unceremonious declaration of feelings would just do more harm than anything else.

One consistency you’ve singled out since coming back to the farm is this common theme of divine intervention, or fate, whatever you want to call it. Right when you’re on the brink of an epiphany, you’re always forcefully shoved into it, like a freight train crashing into its platform traveling at full speed. This moment is no different.

Yeoreum barking at a squirrel on the other side of the pen scares the horse who’s back you were currently on. It bucks up and you release the reins in alarm. You fall quickly, but Yunho’s quicker, catching you in his arms like it’s been a childhood dream of his to be a superhero. He searches your face for any indication that you might be hurt, a hand coming up to cup your cheek.

The eyes you’ve grown to adore examine your own with so much care that you find yourself melting in his hold. Your face instinctively leans into his palm, fingers still clutching the fabric of his shirt like he may drop you.

It’s nearly second-nature to minimize the gap between you.

You never understood what novelists meant when they described kissing scenes. And you think that’s because you’d never truly had a kiss like this before. It was as if they were all talking about this second, this blip in time. The sparks that shoot from where your lips meet to the tips of your fingers, the thump-thump-thump of your heartbeat in your ears, the sensation of never wanting to escape, never wanting to stop.

Yunho’s hand snakes behind your head, tangling in your hair to deepen the connection. It’s hungry. It’s desperate. It’s too much. It’s not enough. Everything that had been stacking on top of each other was leading to this, the collision that rivaled the Big Bang. You whine into his lips, an invitation but also an inquiry.

He parts from you just so he can catch his breath, his forehead resting on yours. “Can I take you inside?”

You nod fervently. “Yes. Please.”

He wastes no time hauling you to the farmhouse. His grip on your wrist is gentle as he pulls you into his bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and trapping you between his legs. Your restraint wears thin, nimble fingers fumbling with the rest of the buttons on his denim shirt. You push it off of his shoulders, a bit shell shocked when you discover that he’s wearing a regular t-shirt as opposed to his usual tank top.

“You would pull something like this today of all days,” you laugh breathily, untucking the shirt from his pants. He reciprocates the sentiment, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck while you undress him.

“Is it evil of me to say I was sorta hoping this would happen?” He speaks into your exposed collarbone, nipping, sucking, biting the skin. Your appreciative sigh goads him, his tongue gliding across the abused surface as a form of relief.

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head, fast to yank off his shirt and run your nails down his abdomen. “I’ve been waiting for this for too long.”

“Yeah?” Yunho flips the two of you easily so you’re the one on the bed now. He pushes up the hem of your shirt, pecking your stomach to your clavicle as he shows more and more of your skin until the fabric is removed from your body. “Can’t believe I finally get to have you.”

You involuntarily moan, completely untouched and because of his words alone. Every part of you feels like it’s lit ablaze, burning with want and need and everything in between. This ran further than just what-ifs and late night fantasies. Your relationship with Yunho tiptoed on the edge of something you’ve never known before, and that makes this so much more special.

He glances up at you when his fingers reach for the button of your shorts, a silent ask for permission. You give him the green light and hold yourself up on your elbows, watching with your breathing trapped in your throat as he rids of your panties along with them. His hands push your knees to your chest, kissing your inner thighs and right around the place you need him most, but never there.

“Yunho…” You warn, but it comes across as a broken whimper rather than an establishment of authority. He laughs and then his lips are pressing to your clit, a sweet kiss that has all rationality taking a vacation from your brain. Your head tips back and you fist at the sheets.

He drags his tongue through your folds, swirling it around the sensitive bundle of nerves each time it makes its return. It’s almost criminal how good it feels to have his mouth on your cunt, eyes already heavy lidded with pleasure. He sucks on your clit at the same time he decides to insert a finger into your entrance, curling it experimentally just because he can. Like you predicted, it reaches that spongy spot at the crook of your pussy, brushing it once he’s sure he’s found it.

While you walked in on him fucking his fist, the only thing on his mind was you. He was so absorbed in the mental image of what you would look like beneath him, wiggling, writhing, squirming with indulgence. His social awareness was at a zero. This replayed over and over until he came, his thoughts so vivid he could’ve swore it was real.

But this, the actual thing, was so much better; his forearm pinning your hips down, his middle finger curling and uncurling inside of you, his mouth working overtime to inch you towards the edge of that steep cliff. He moans when your eyebrows practically coalesce, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. You look so gorgeous like this, so disoriented all because of the bliss he was providing. The vibrations of the sound have you arching your back, uncontrollable whines running from your mouth.

“Feel good?” Yunho asks, disconnecting his mouth and replacing it with his other hand, ring and middle digits swiping across your clit with practiced pressure.

“Mhm,” you nod frantically, eyes on the brink of rolling to the back of your head. “Feels so good, Yun… Just like that, ‘m almost there.”

That’s all he needs to hear, switching his hand and mouth once again, focusing on alternating harsh and gentle sucks of your clit, adding a second finger to pump in and out of your hole. The doubled change in stimulation knocks the wind out of you, the precipice of your orgasm so close you can taste it. You’d never been brought to the summit this early in the past, and you think Yunho deserves some sort of reward for being the first to do so.

You’d worry about that later though, because you’re blindsided by it before you can even conjure your next thought. You cum with a cry, tears springing to your eyes from the immense amount of ecstasy coursing through your veins, swimming in your bloodstream. Yunho coos at you, not stopping until you’ve relaxed in his hold. “That’s it, baby, you’re doing so well.”

The praise makes your head feel airy, like empty space unoccupied by anything. If you paid attention in chemistry, then you’d know that’s highly impossible, but you didn’t. The only chemistry you even remotely care about is the one between you and Yunho, the tension that has piled higher and higher for days on end until its crescendo now.

You sit up to kiss him roughly, savoring the taste of yourself on his lips. He smiles into it, a hand raising to caress the underside of your jaw. He climbs onto the bed, scooting you up so you’re positioned by the pillows. It doesn’t take much effort for your bodies to swap, his back to the headboard. You clumsily seat yourself on his lap, a knee on either side of him and sighing wistfully when his mouth trails down your throat and sternum, slender fingers sneaking behind you to unclasp your bra.

He aids you in removing his pants, still simultaneously prioritizing kisses all over your bare chest. When you’re both fully naked, you take your time admiring his cock. It’s just as pretty as you remember, long and thick. Your hand wraps around it gingerly, stroking the length as you lean down to kiss him again. You don’t think you could ever get enough of his lips on your own.

“I’m not exactly getting any action over here, so I don’t have any condoms,” he says into your kiss, voice no louder than a whisper.

“That’s okay,” you run your fingers through his hair. “Wanna feel you anyways, all of you.”

”Fuck, Y/N, you can kill a man with those words.” He groans, nails digging into your hips. You giggle, but it’s interrupted by him sitting you fully, his dick slipping through your lower lips. A whine brushes his ear when the tip catches your clit, repeating the movement until you can’t stay still.

The closest you’ll ever get to Heaven on earth is Yunho’s cock pushing inside of you, filling you up so deliciously you think you could die like this. Your jaw slackens, hands coming up to support yourself on his shoulders. Even if this is a one time thing, something that never happens again during your stay at the farm, he wants you to remember this when you go back home. He wants you to recall this sliver in your timeline and never forget it, wants his name engraved in your memory like a branding iron.

Once he feels you’ve adjusted to him well enough, he pulls you off of him almost entirely, just to ram back in without mercy. He punches a voluminous moan from you, eyes watching where he disappears in you and reemerges. You’re tighter and so much warmer than he dreamed you’d be, but it’s perfect. You suck him in like a vacuum, as if his cock was made to be inside of you, as if you didn’t want him to part from you.

“You’re s-so deep, Yun,” you mewl, pulling him in for another headache-inducing kiss. “Don’t wanna stop.”

He exhales through his nostrils, mumbling out a curse when your walls squeeze around him. He wanted to last a while for you, wanted to hold out and prolong this moment until you were both on the crest of passing out. But you feel like a glove, your silk-adjacent cunt begging for more and more.

“Think I might cum soon, princess,” he groans, tossing his head back and just about losing every ounce of his sanity when your lips start marking the column of his throat.

His big hands move under your thighs, holding you in place so he can fuck up into you. The pace at which his cock drills in and out of your pussy has you seeing stars, eyes snapping shut and nothing but colorful spots decorating your vision. You were already abhorrently sensitive following your first orgasm, so it didn’t really take much to introduce the second.

Your hips stutter and it washes over you like a tidal wave, your body shuddering and collapsing into his top half. He pulls out of you quickly, mouth stationed by your ear as he jerks himself off until he’s painting your backside. He moans, a lot like the sounds he was making the other night, and you feel the need to just kiss him again.

Your lips lock sweetly, a stark contrast to your previous actions. Yunho curves a hand on your cheek, seperating from you the smallest distance so he can admire you. The smile that etches onto his expression makes you dizzier than anything else. However, the cutesiness can only span so long before the setting gives way.

Yunho’s hand snakes in between you, his forefinger sliding up and down your slit teasingly. Your breath comes out shaky, your face finding purchase in the crook of his neck. He replaces the digit with his middle finger, parting your pussy lips in search of your clit. It doesn’t take him very long to find it, rubbing tight circles into the engorged skin. You moan into his shoulder, resting your forehead on it to see the way he works your cunt.

“You’re so wet, baby. Have I not fucked you enough?” He whispers into your ear huskily. Yunho talking dirty to you is something you didn’t know you needed in your life. His finger slips downward, thrusting up into your hole with ease. He keeps massaging your clit with his palm, the stimulation making your head woozy.

“Mmmph— Yun, god. Feels too good.” You whine, gyrating your hips on his hand.

“Is that right, babe?” He encourages, adding a second finger and increasing the speed of their thrusts, almost like you hadn’t been in this position already. “I can’t wait to feel this tight little pussy around my cock again. Gonna fuck you harder than the last.”

Your whimpers raise in volume, focusing on the way he curls his digits in you, applying pressure with the heel of his palm to the circles he’s rubbing into your clit. You can sense your third orgasm approaching, warmth flooding your cheeks at how embarrassingly fast he worked you back up. Your walls clench around his fingers, alerting him of how close you are. He pauses, worming his body down so his face is eye level with your cunt again.

Yunho does the whole teasing thing a second time, kissing and suckling the hot skin of your belly, knowingly denying you of your release. You grab a handful of his hair, tugging at the ends to spur him on. He groans, giving into you and licking a straight line up your slit. He inserts both fingers again, this time using his tongue to manipulate your swollen clit.

The heat of Yunho’s mouth makes your insides ache, the necessity to cum intensifying. You keen loudly, desperately, needily, the sight of the brunette between your legs so incredibly arousing. He sucks on your throbbing clit, his long fingers as deep as they can go, and you crumble.

“Oh my god— oh my god— I’m cumming! I’m—” You cut yourself off, convulsing under him. He laps up as much of your juices as he can, coating his chin with your release. You moan as you pull him towards you to unify your lips, a mixture of your saliva and cum connect your mouths in strings. At this point, the sex is messier than anything you could’ve plucked from your wildest dreams.

One hand trails down your body, using your nimble fingers to play with your sensitive clit when he starts fisting his cock in preparation to enter your pussy again. You use your free hand to scratch at his contracting abs. He hisses, propping himself up with one arm next to your head and his eyes trained on the way you finger yourself at the same time. You can feel his breath on your cheeks and being in this proximity to him fuels your yearning.

“Please, Yun… Need you back inside of me,” you whimper. Rubbing your clit with your own fingers isn’t satisfying enough, not with him here in front of you, not when you know how good he can make you feel.

“Fuck, baby, when you beg like that I don’t know if I can hold back.” He chuckles lowly. It rumbles from his chest, shooting to your core.

“So don’t,” you rouse. “This is more than just a one time thing for me, Yunho.”

His eyes widen just a bit, your confession catching him off guard. That’s all he needs to line himself up with your hole, hooking his forearm under your knee as he slides in, stretching your cunt so perfectly with his perfect cock. “Shit— you’re so tight, princess… It’s almost like I didn’t just fuck you within an inch of your life.” He moans and spreads your legs wider. He bottoms out with a grunt, throwing his head back from the feeling of your velvety walls. A near deafening cry is ripped from your vocal cords. He nips at your neck, starting to piston his hips.

His thrusts don’t slow but become calculated, speeding up and diving deep simultaneously. It only took a short amount of time to figure out what you liked and he used it to his advantage. Yunho hikes your knee to your chest, groping your tits with his free hand. He twists and tugs at your nipples just hard enough that it contributes to your pleasure rather than hurts you.

It’s as if he doesn’t feel buried inside of you sufficiently, because he decreases his pace to press and fold your other leg up, his hips ramming into your ass with each thrust now. The tip of his cock kisses at what feels like your cervix. That familiar coil begins to fasten again, keening with every drive into your cunt. The squelching noises would’ve made you cower in shame with anyone else, but with Yunho it turns you on further.

You moan, and he flattens his hand on the lower part of your stomach. Yunho groans, biting the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. Your fingers find your clit again, circling insatiably to get yourself off.

“You gonna cum for me again?” He rasps, his hold on your legs almost painful. The backs of your thighs burn, but you endure it for the sake of the moment. You reach up and behind yourself, grabbing at the headboard in an attempt to match his force.

“Oh my god, yes— yes yes yes yes,” you babble, the syllables blurring together like your mind. “Gonna cum so hard for you, Yunho. Keep going, please.”

His lips attach to yours, tongues tangling sloppily. The position you’re in is on the opposite end of the spectrum from how you were expecting this summer reunion to go. Had you not been made aware of Yunho living here at the last minute, you probably would’ve backed out of your commitment to staying. Deep down you’re a little too thankful that your grandmother mentioned him when it was too late to reconsider.

“I think I’m in love with you, Y/N,” Yunho whispers into your mouth.

You let go of the headboard, cupping his jaw and kissing him lovingly. “Me too.”

Your fingers speed up and so do his thrusts, perfectly timed with each other to shove you both towards your highs. You’re on the cusp of falling apart, arching into him to close the gap between your bodies.

“Wanna cum inside you. Can I?” Yunho grunts.

“Yes yes, please. Fill me up, Yun, want all of you.”

He continues to abuse your cunt, pounding into you like his life depended on it. You sob, clamping your walls around him. He freezes, suddenly spilling into you. “Come on, baby, cum on my cock.” The warmth of his release and his words coax your orgasm, the fluttering of your cunt milking every single drop from him that it can. Even with his dick plugging you up, you can feel it dripping out of you and onto the sheets below.

He rocks into you languidly until you’ve calmed down enough for him to pull out. His forehead is flush on your chest, rising and falling with it, both of you so spent from the intense physical activity you engaged in. You stare up at the ceiling with heavy eyelids, carding your fingers through his hair to soothe him.

“You meant what you said right? About this not being a one time thing.” Yunho says hesitantly, like he’s afraid of permeating the atmosphere you created.

“I don’t think I can go home at the end of the summer and forget the way I feel for you, Yunho.” You admit out loud. There had been a constant struggle in your head over whether or not to follow your heart, but as he looks at you with those sparkly eyes of his, you know your answer. And you feel a little stupid for ever considering the counter.

“And what exactly are those feelings?” He pushes, folding his hands on your sternum and laying his cheek on top. You giggle, brushing his hair out of his view. As tempting as it was to divulge your theatrical journey in assessing your emotions, you’re too exhausted to stay awake. It would have to wait for another day.

“You have the rest of the summer to find out, cowboy.”

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez jeong yunho #ateez yunho #ateez yunho x reader #ateez yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho smut #yunho x reader #yunho smut #yunhoszn

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losergames · 2 months

Text

Chop Shop is strictly 18+ for language, themes, and potential explicit content.

🔗 - Game Intro | Bug Report | Ko-Fi

Episode Three is now available! (+ 86,000) - PLAY HERE

Get your first taste of the underground car scene.

Meet some other players in the game.

Be made an offer.

5 achievements up for grabs!

And more!

AN: thank you so much for the patience - i've been dying to put this update out. lots of new characters and lots of variation!! there are 3 major paths to choose between in this ep, i recommend trying them all out! and thank you to my betas for keeping me sane lmao

This update comes with a patch and UI refresh (Version 1.1.2) Notes are under the cut. If preferred, you can access them in game in the start menu.

STORY

EPISODE 01:

MC should now be able to smoke! Buying cigarettes at the shop was not triggering correctly. If playing with an old save, you DO NOT have to restart as code at the beginning of EP 03 has resolved the error. Player will need to restart if they wish to read smoking related scenes in previous episodes.

Updated MC Name selection. Player can now choose from a list of names instead of having to input one to proceed.

Player can now give Taha their chocolate bar if it's in their inventory.

When asking Maz about their scars, the second choice 'You want to ask about it but you're going to keep your mouth shut.' should now take you to the correct response.

Extended and updated 'End Game' scenes.

EPISODE 02:

If MC is faint after exiting the car, but also drunk, they should now get the fainting scene, followed by Dilani helping the MC in the bathroom.

UI + TECHNICAL

SETTINGS:

Autoname Save is now defaulted to ON. This is to add ease and flow to gameplay, especially for mobile, tablet, and app users, instead of calling for an inputted saved name. If player wants to input save names, toggle Autoname Saves to OFF.

Autoname Save previously only used the forename of the MC but now includes the surname as well.

Removed the Fullscreen toggle as it is only intended for desktop use. Player can still toggle fullscreen function via the UI bar on the desktop interface.

Added a choice indicator toggle. (This probably won't come into effect until EP 04 or 05)

Changed serif font from Vollkron to EB Garamond.

OTHER:

Changing the MC's pronouns via the Dashboard has been updated. Additionally, after confirmation will take player back to the Dashboard and not close the dialog boxes entirely.

Hovering over 'Personality', 'Motives', and 'Skills' titles in the Dashboard will now display an information box with a definition. Mobile and tablet users will need to tap on the title.

'Resume Game' now only appears on the main menu when there is an autosave in the saves log.

Choices styling changes.

General UI and button style changes.

Fixed errors with the text message styling.

Added styling for reading text off of a page in game.

Darkened blue in light theme 'Skyline' to reduce eye strain.

CREATE A SAVE

Introducing Create a Save! This feature allows players to quickly manufacture a save file and start at a later point in the game.

Set your identity, appearance, history, and statistics; including personality, motives, and skills. Continue to set key decisions made in previous episodes.

Randomise options available for creating a PC and key decisions.

OTHER

Fixed gaps and spacing issues.

Minor phrasing and sentence structure changes.

Grammar and typo fixes.

whew -- that's a lot of patch notes! apologies for so much that needed to be fixed.

this update shouldn't break/ mess with saves but as a disclaimer i will say, if you spot anything funky, broken, or you don't think things are triggering correctly, try starting a new save. the new create a save feature is incredibly code heavy, and it's been tested relentlessly, but i wouldn't be surprised if something crops up.

if starting a new save doesn't resolve your issue - please submit to bug report or just send me an ask/message.

some things have been meaning to get fixed for Some Time - thank you to everyone that is using the bug report form!

apologies if there are typos and/or bugs - this was a long one to edit and my lovely betas did an OUTSTANDING job reading so much for ep 3 - thank you so much again!!! this time i am going to give it a bit more time before i put together a patch so i can grab more error responses haha.

create a save has also added a wee chunk to the word count, somewhere around 6k, but i'm not including it in the episode 03 word count as it's purely code. so, if you think the total wc is off, that's why!

if you've read this far, happy reading and thank you so much for the continued support!! :) - becky <3

#chop shop #chop shop game #interactive fiction #twine game #cs patch #cs update

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walpu · 2 months

Note

Hellohello, peeking from the corner

And dropping by to request Aventurine x reader that likes to give him trinkets and souvenirs from their travels.

And then one day they came with Ashy Paste/Grey Bean Paste version of them and him together all smiley faced and all.

(Fun fact, from a leak: Aventurine's actual name is Kakavasha. Fun fact 2: Kakava is a celebration event of the Romani people)

- 🪽

Aw it's such a cute request 😭 shaking crying asking hoyo to make the second part of the cats event with penacony and belobog characters

I've seen the leaks about his name and the meaning behind it since I'm literal insane about this man. Honestly this is such a pretty name 🥹

Hope you'll enjoy reading this 🌸

giving Aventurine Ruan Mei's cat creations that resemble the two of you

characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, fluff, was written with the established relationship in mind but works for pre-relatioship stage as well, no beta see I'm capable of writing something other than angst

First of all, he absolutely adores it when you give him small gifts from your travels.

It's a reminder that you care about him enough to think of him when he's not around.

And while yes, it's obvious that you care, it's nice to know that you care enough to go out of your way to do something for him.

He's a miserable man with no friends okay even the small trinket is enough to make him happy.

Keeps them safe and takes care of each and every gift you give him. Brings some a lot of them with him to casino or/and to his business meetings, claiming that those are his lucky charms.

If it's a peace of jewelry then he would not hesitate to buy several sets of clothes just to have numerous outfits specifically to show off your gift.

If it's some unusual gift then he would not leave you alone until you tell him where did you get it.

Speaking of unusual gifts. He certainly didn't expect that your visit the Herta Space Station will result in you bringing with you two... cat thingies?

At first he simply doesn't get it. It's a bit impractical for you to get a pet since you're traveling so much, no?

But then he notices. Something.

"Darling, call me a delusional romantic but don't they resemble us, hmm?"

When you tell him that those cat thingies are, in fact, creations of Ruan Mei herself, and you just accidentally helped her to creat two cats that resemble you two, he can't help but laugh.

"Ah, sugar, seems like it's not just me who is a helpless romantic. So you've missed me that much that you made are a cat just like me, haha?"

You explain to him that you didn't actually adopt them, Ruan Mei just let you take them with you for some time to examine how socialization with others outside if the Herta Station may affect them.

At first he thinks it's for the best, since, once again, it's impractical to keep them as pets.

Spoiler warning he'll pout and whine when it's time to return them to Ruan Mei.

Loves observing them. Like genuinely adores doing it. Especially if it's the cat that resembles you. Would pester you to take a look every time the cat acts like you.

Would probably feel a bit uncomfortable around the Aven!cat but eventually would warm up to him as well. Mostly because he'll notice how much the reader!cat loves him.

Takes a lot of pictures of the cats together and sends them to you.

"Us <з" "Yeah well they were literally made after us so..." "Uuuussss 😚😚😚"

You know how a lot of cat thingies were talking in high pitched voices? Yeah he would chuckle and pester you to try to talk like that as well.

Lmao but imagine Aven!cat saying something about risks and gambling and benefit etc etc in this high pitched voice. Aven himself would probably chuckle and say something like ”haha little guy knows what it's all about” but would sulk if you'll tease him about it.

Would probably try to buy them from Ruan Mei afterwards lol

#hsr aventurine #hsr #honkai star rail #reader insert #aventurine x reader #aventurine #walp's writing

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ourdawnishotterthanourday · 3 months

Text

Melon Pang! (PART ONE) — CEO Choi Seungcheol

✧ The second chapter — Part of the SEVENTEEN World Series

The last thing Seungcheol expected was to argue with a random stranger in a bakery after an awfully stressful day. But how could he not when this person was about to take the last melon pan? You were in a similar position. Your boss had been nagging you non-stop at work, and all you wanted was your favorite snack, followed by a movie marathon on the couch. Instead, you find yourself having to deal with this stubborn guy who thinks the whole world is his.

✧ Genre: CEO au; coffee shop au; SMUT (in part two), fluff, angst, slow-burn, strangers to lovers ♥ Pairing: barista!reader x managing CEO!Choi Seungcheol ✧ Word count: 32k+ ✦ Warnings: swearing, many petty arguments between the reader and Cheol, stubborn Cheol, stubborn reader, power abuse (reader’s boss is an ass), time skips, several long flashbacks (let me know if I missed any!) ♕ Shout out: thanks again to @fugaciousserendipity for your input, and a special thank you to the wonderful @wongyuseokie for beta-reading for me, as well as hyping me the fuck uuuuup!!! love you, muah 💜

✎ Notes (please read before sending me any questions!): 1) this is only the first part of the chapter since it's going to be waaaay longer than I anticipated LOL. also means that this is only the beginning and you will probably have many many questions at the end. but I promise, part two will be gooooood hehe 🤭; 2) there are some snippets from Wonwoo’s chapter since it takes place at the same time, so I advise you to read Don't Tell The Boss if you don't want to get confused; 3) the chapter is written from the perspective of Seungcheol AND reader; 4) I just want to clear something up in case people have questions about it: the snack I'm referring to in the chapter is a melon pan (a Japanese snack), but I named the chapter melon pang! since it's a wordplay on the seventeen song Pang! 🥰

Seungcheol felt like absolute shit after the day he’d just had. Between him having to yell at the HR team for fucking up some important documentation and finding a piece of jewelry that looked suspiciously like the one he’d gifted his sister at Wonwoo’s place, he felt like he’d gone through almost every single emotion in one day, even a few he didn’t know existed until today.

That’s why after providing some final feedback on Wonwoo’s quarterly report – which he’d promised to read before the end of the day – he packed up his things and headed towards his favorite bakery that was located near the SEVENTEEN World HQ. It was already 9.30 PM, but if he hurried a little bit, he’d be just in time to grab a snack before closing time at 10 PM.

Even before SEVENTEEN World had been established, JamJam was the bakery that Seungcheol frequented whenever he needed a little treat. In his case, that was usually a melon pan, the CEO’s number one comfort food.

Especially after going through something stressful, the soft and fluffy interior of the melon pan combined with its cookie-like crust, was enough to make him momentarily forget about his worries.

JamJam just so happened to have the best ones in Seoul. Flavor Factory SEVENTEEN also produced their version of the melon pan, but in Seungcheol’s opinion, that one didn’t even come close to the ones at JamJam. Of course, no hate towards Mingyu. The guy knew how to make tasty food, but he wasn’t going to win this battle, no matter how hard he tried to improve his recipe – the blind tastings that the chef had made his Hyungs sit through over the years proved again and again that JamJam’s melon pan was still the number one in the city.

With a mask disguising most of his face, Seungcheol exited his car and quickly crossed the road before entering the small but cozy bakery.

After quickly greeting the owner, Mr. Hashimoto, at the counter, he hurried towards the back of the store, where he knew the melon pan was usually located. Seungcheol was aware that it was late and that there was a chance that his favorite snack would already be gone, but he still had a little bit of hope. In the worst-case scenario, he’d end up eating a cream pan or some shokupan instead.

As he neared the familiar bread baskets, he spotted exactly what he was looking for, his eyes lighting up at the sight of a single melon pan that had been left behind.

“Thank God,” he mumbled, slightly speeding up his steps to get to it.

However, the CEO wasn’t aware of the fact that there was another person in the store looking for that same sweet Japanese bread, which is why it came as a total surprise when someone else beat him to it, snatching the treat away just mere seconds before he’d been able to grab it.

Seungcheol was in shock, furiously blinking as he tried to process what had just happened. His eyes slowly fixated on the woman who was currently holding onto his snack.

Now, he did say not too long ago that he would be fine settling for another snack if he couldn’t get ahold of a melon pan, but that was before it was practically ripped away right in front of his eyes.

Was he overreacting? His friends would probably tell him that he was. Did he care? No, he absolutely did not, not after the horrible day he’d had.

—

A movie marathon, your favorite snack and a relaxing evening on the couch. That was your plan for tonight. No worries, no stress, just a bunch of fictional characters fighting bad guys in an alternative universe – anything sounded better than having to deal with the world you were living in.

In the real world, you had to deal with your piece-of-shit boss who had once again managed to ruin your day. Today, he’d nagged you for not working fast enough, and as a punishment, he made you clean, restock, and close the shop all by yourself – turning your original 8-hour shift into a 10-hour one.

Then there was your male co-worker, Sanghoon, who’d been allowed to go home early, just because he’d “done such a good job today”. Right. What job? Being lazy and careless? You’d been doing most of the work at the coffee bar, which included fixing Sanghoon’s mistakes, for as long as you could remember.

How the guy had gotten a job at a coffee bar was a mystery to you. For someone who worked as a barista, he sure sucked at making coffee. There wasn’t a day that went by without a customer coming to you to complain about their coffee tasting like shit. Honestly, you couldn’t blame them because it really was that bad. You’d tasted Sanghoon’s coffee before and had almost thrown up at the taste of the overly bitter and sour liquid he’d produced.

So, for the sake of the company image and the customers, whenever time allowed for it, you prepared the majority of the orders.

As if that wasn’t enough, his lazy ass also refused to clean anything properly aside from occasionally wiping down the tables, sweeping the floors, and starting the automatic cleaning program on the coffee machines.

You were the only one busting your ass to make sure that everything was always in pristine condition – because no one wanted crusty-ass coffee. It sometimes made you wonder whether all of your hard work was worth it because it seriously felt like you were running the whole shop by yourself.

Still, that wasn’t even the worst, though. No. The thing that annoyed you the most was the fact that your incompetent co-worker constantly kept messing up orders left and right. At one point it, got so bad that you felt the need to double-check every single order he touched before it could even reach the customer.

There had been one incident where a customer had asked for oat milk because she was allergic to regular milk. Sanghoon, who had been in charge of preparing orders that day because you already had too many things to do, had completely disregarded the comments attached to the order and prepared the latte with regular milk.

In other words, it ended with the customer needing her EpiPen, a nasty lawsuit, and your boss screaming at you for being a “useless disgrace to the company” without even listening to your side of the story – all while Sanghoon just stood there and let you take the fall for his carelessness.

Very quickly, you learned that the guy really didn’t give a shit about any of it. He knew that when the occasion called for it, you’d be there to pick up his mess, and it infuriated you to no end. You hated yourself for putting up with it every single time, but you also knew that if you just sat back and let it happen, the shop would be out of business, and your boss would find a way to blame you for the whole thing.

Besides, even if your boss caught him slacking, he still treated him like a goddamn star player, always overlooking his failures and praising him for doing the absolute bare minimum. But God forbid if you made even the tiniest mistake. Your boss would immediately let you hear about it, even if that meant criticizing you in front of the customers – it was fair to say that you hated the man with a passion.

At least JamJam, your favorite bakery in town, had never disappointed you.

That was proven again when your eyes spotted the last melon pan, lifting your mood almost immediately. You nearly did a little happy dance after you’d taken it out of the basket, but then quickly decided against it when you noticed the CCTV camera pointing straight at you. Now was not the time to embarrass yourself in public.

“Excuse me?” You turned around at the sound of a male voice, assuming that he was talking to you since the bakery was pretty much empty at this hour.

“Can I help you?” you asked wearily, raising your eyebrows at the blond man who had approached you – the mask he was wearing covered most of his face, so it was hard to get a read on him. And seeing as you’d gone through your fair share of uncomfortable encounters with strangers, it was only natural for you to have your guard up.

To your surprise, he pointed towards the hand that was holding the snack you were planning on buying. “Would you mind giving me that melon pan?” he asked. “I really need it tonight.”

Your weary expression slowly morphed into a confused one as you raised the sweet bread slightly. “This... melon pan?” you asked, wondering where this was going.

The stranger nodded. “Yes, that one. I just got off from work, and I’ve had a pretty rough day, so I need it. It’s my favorite snack, and I’m not planning to leave the store without it.”

You almost wanted to laugh at the audacity of this guy. As if you would hand it over just because he supposedly ‘needed’ it. It wasn’t your problem that you’d been faster.

“Well, it happens to be my favorite snack too, and I’ve also had a pretty rough day, so no. I’m not giving it to you.”

“Oh, come on. What’s it going to take? Name your price,” he motioned before reaching into his pocket to pull out what you assumed was his wallet. What the hell was he doing?

“I just told you I’m not giving you this melon pan,” you responded firmly – your free hand automatically squeezed into a fist as you tried to keep your blood pressure under control.

Getting into an argument with some random stranger was not part of the relaxing evening you’d planned.

“And I said, name your price. Everyone has one. How much do you want for it? Fifty thousand won? A hundred thousand? More? Just tell me. Money is not an issue,” he shrugged nonchalantly, his wallet now wide open for you to see.

His outrageous proposition left you in a state of awe. The disgust was no doubt evident on your face, but he didn’t seem to care one bit.

“Are you seriously trying to bribe me for a fucking melon pan?!”

Judging by the way he was dressed, you were pretty certain that the guy was loaded – the combination of the dark brown suit and black coat he was wearing probably cost more than what you earned in a whole month.

Regardless, that didn’t give him the right to treat others like garbage.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” He didn’t look like he was. “You have something that I want. You’re not giving it to me, so I’m offering you an alternative that will make both of us happy,” he stated, completely oblivious to the fact that he was coming off as an entitled asshole.

“You are so unbelievably rude,” you scoffed. “I’ve never met anyone as ignorant and entitled as you. Just wow. If that’s how you treat people in your life, then you probably don’t have many friends.”

It was clear that your words had struck a nerve when the shameless stranger narrowed his eyes in response.

“I’m rude? I think you are pretty rude to someone who’s just trying to reason with you. Trust me, if you had any idea who I was, you wouldn’t be speaking to me like that.”

Oh, look, he’s a narcissist too... surprising.

“Listen, Mr. Whatever-Your-Name-Is. I’m going to say this one time. I don’t give two shits about who you are, and I’m not giving you my melon pan, so you can keep your damn money. Now, I’m going to walk away, pay for my snack and leave so that this,” you motioned between the two of you, “doesn’t escalate into something worse. Have a good life,” was the last thing you said before rushing towards the checkout.

Your blood was boiling by the time you left the store. The whole encounter with the rude stranger had put another damper on your mood, leaving you with a bitter taste in your mouth. Because just who the fuck did he think he was? And what kind of weirdo would try to bribe someone for a melon pan?

You truly hoped to never see him again.

—

Once again, Seungcheol was left frozen in his spot, watching as the woman who’d just outright disrespected him walked away with what was supposed to have been his snack.

If he thought his day couldn’t get any worse, then this was definitely the straw that broke the camel’s back.

He was a grumbling mess as he left the store with a bag full of goods. Mr. Hashimoto, who had most likely heard the whole dispute, had been nice enough not to say anything about it. Instead, he’d given Seungcheol some additional cream pans and some of his homemade nama chocolate on the house in an attempt to cheer up the sulky CEO. Very kind, of course, but any appetite Seungcheol had before coming to JamJam was now completely ruined as a result of the squabble.

On the drive home, his mind kept going back to the insults you’d thrown at his face. Rude? Ignorant? Entitled? Ha! Who were you to say that about him?

Seungcheol considered himself anything but that. He had plenty of good friends who liked him for who he was, whereas you, some random stranger who didn’t even know him, had literally made those assumptions based on the few minutes that he spent in your presence.

He didn’t really want to admit it, but your words kept bugging him. Why? That probably had something to do with you being the first one ever to tell him that to his face. Seungcheol was so used to people treating him with nothing but respect – well, that is, if you take the other twelve CEOs out of the equation – that he hadn’t expected such resistance from a stranger like you.

But then again, you hadn’t been able to recognize him with his disguise, and he liked to keep it that way. He didn’t even want to think about what would happen if reporters got wind of this humiliating incident.

When Seungcheol finally entered his apartment around 11 PM, he was immediately greeted by a little white ball of fur happily sprinting his way, her tail wagging and tongue hanging out of her mouth as she jumped at his legs.

“Hello, sweet girl. I’ve missed you,” he cooed, reaching down to lift up the small, adorable dog who was all too excited to be reunited with her owner after a long day. “I take it you’ve missed me too, Kkuma,” he smiled brightly, which was immediately followed by a chuckle as she enthusiastically licked his face.

With Seungcheol being managing CEO and having a busy schedule that often kept him away for longer periods of time, he usually had a dog sitter he trusted come around the house to feed her and take her on walks. He hated leaving her alone, and it hurt him to be away from her, but with the duties he needed to fulfill, he really had no choice.

That’s why he always made it his priority to spend as much time as possible with her whenever he didn’t have any work or social activities to attend. Seungcheol liked being around people, which shouldn’t be surprising as it was a big part of his job, but nothing beat the feeling of coming home to Kkuma and her unconditional love for him.

No matter what, Kkuma always had the ability to put a smile on Seungcheol’s face. She’d witnessed both the good and the bad over the many years that she’d been with him. And even though she couldn’t understand ninety-nine percent of the things her owner told her – rants included – she was always happy to listen to him.

Kkuma was like his own form of therapy, his safe place that brought him comfort when he needed it.

“Let’s call Jeonghan and tell him about the mean woman who took my snack, hmm?” he proposed after having dropped the JamJam bag off in the kitchen and taking a seat on his ginormous couch – Kkuma was now comfortably tucked against his chest, recovering from the energy burst she’d had at seeing Seungcheol.

“This better be urgent. I was about to sleep,” Jeonghan’s tired voice sounded as soon as he answered the call.

“Well, it’s urgent to me.”

“Oh jeez, here we go.” The other CEO released a sigh of exasperation, knowing that he wasn’t going to get to sleep anytime soon.

Seungcheol’s eyes rolled at his friend’s dramatics. “Don’t be like that. I think you’ll want to hear this.”

“I doubt it.”

“Anyway, you won’t believe what just happened to me,” Seungcheol started, choosing to ignore Jeonghan’s disinterest in the matter. “I had a shitty day, so I went to JamJam, and then this woman just snatched the last melon pan right in front of my eyes! I tried to tell her that I really needed it, but she wouldn’t give it up.”

“Obviously. Can’t blame her,” Jeonghan yawned.

Seungcheol clenched his jaw in frustration at the CEO’s disregard. “Just let me finish. That’s not the worst thing. I even offered to give money in exchange for that melon pan, bu-”

The man on the other side of the phone was suddenly wide awake. “Wait, wait, wait, hold on. Did I hear that right? You offered her money for a snack?!”

“Yes! But what did I get in return? She called me rude, ignorant and entitled. And for what? I was being nice about it and gave her a way to earn some easy money.”

Jeonghan released a deep sigh at the other man’s words. “Cheol, you can’t just go around bribing people to get whatever you want.”

“Why not? It seemed pretty reasonable to me. Besides, who doesn’t want money in this economy?” Seungcheol shrugged, even though the other CEO wasn’t able to see.

“Are you really that oblivious? Of course you’re going to get cussed out if you do stupid shit like that. It makes you sound like an asshole.”

That earned a scoff from the managing CEO. “So, what you’re saying is that I was wrong, and she was right to be so disrespectful?”

“Oh, that’s exactly what I’m saying. If that were me, I would have wiped the floor with your ass.”

“Yah! Aren’t you supposed to be on my side? You’re my best friend.”

“Exactly. I’m your best friend, so I get to call you out on your bullshit. This is one of those instances. You need to realize that not everything can be solved with money, Cheol.”

“Ugh, whatever. You know what? Just go to sleep. I don’t need you to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do.”

The last thing Seungcheol needed right now was a lecture from Jeonghan.

“Cheol, come on. You’re being stubborn right now, and you know it.”

“Goodnight, Jeonghan.” Seungcheol ended the call right after that, not even bothering to wait for his friend’s response. “Is it too much to ask for some support?” he grumbled before directing his attention back to Kkuma.

She was now lying in his lap, looking up at him with big, curious eyes. Seungcheol smiled in response, leaning down to place a kiss on the top of her head, which was answered with some enthusiastic tail wagging.

“At least I can count on my sweet girl, right?

“Thanks, Haewon. I’ll check out a new place first, and then I’ll meet you as soon as I can.”

Seungcheol ended the call with his secretary, who’d just informed him that his favorite coffee place had closed down for good. She was usually the one who got his coffee in the mornings, but now that his usual spot was unavailable, he needed to find a new place that would be able to meet his standards. And since Seungcheol tended to be quite picky when it came to his daily fix of caffeine, Haewon knew better than to get him a random coffee from a place he hadn’t approved of.

“What’s a good place?” he mumbled to himself as he scrolled through a large list of Seoul’s best coffee places.

There were lots of coffee spots to choose from, but none of them were special enough to catch the CEO’s eyes.

The majority of the highly rated ones were either too hipster or too tacky for his taste, whereas several of the ones that looked rather nice had a large number of negative reviews that made him think twice about visiting.

After a good ten minutes of scrolling, Seungcheol was starting to lose hope. He was supposed to be at a meeting in a little bit over an hour and if he didn’t have a decent cup of coffee to start the day off with, he would be in a bad mood for the rest of it. And with how yesterday had ended, he really wanted today to be different – at this rate, that wasn’t going to happen.

At least, that was until he came across a place called Oh My! Coffee. It was a small but cozy-looking vintage coffee bar located on the outskirts of Seoul, which Seungcheol thought was great since there would be less traffic holding him back. Plus, most of the reviews he’d read were both recent and extremely positive about the quality of the coffee.

Apparently, it was enough to convince Seungcheol to go check it out because before he knew it, he’d started the engine of his luxurious sports car and made his way to the coffee bar.

The place looked exactly like the pictures he’d seen on Naver. The facade of the coffee bar was completely made out of oak wood, with vines of purple and pink flowers decorating the two large see-through doors to contrast the dark color of the oak.

Inside, the lights had been slightly dimmed to create an elegantly subtle glow of orange, which – combined with the soft jazz music playing in the background – gave the whole place a pleasant and relaxing ambiance.

Various vintage items adorned the walls of the cozy, homey shop, and though there wasn’t a lot of space, with the strategic way in which the small wooden tables had been set up, it was enough to accommodate a couple of coffee lovers who wanted to enjoy their beverage in a picturesque setting.

Seungcheol was already in love with the place, and he hadn’t even tried the coffee yet. Judging from the mouthwatering, smoky coffee aroma that invaded his nostrils as soon as he stepped inside, he was fairly certain that he wasn’t going to be disappointed.

But then his eyes fell on the barista, who was standing behind the counter, seemingly lost in her own world as she cleaned her workspace.

The CEO froze in his spot, his heart rate picking up at the sight that greeted him because it was no one other than you, the stranger who had disrespected him and ruined what should have been a nice evening with his favorite snack.

He never planned on seeing you again after last night, and he certainly didn’t plan to end up at the coffee bar you worked at. How could fate have been so cruel to lead him right back to you when all he wanted was a peaceful morning and a good cup of coffee? That was definitely not going to happen if you recognized him.

That thought immediately got Seungcheol into gear. A sudden boost of energy rushed through his body as he tried to be as subtle as possible. His feet were moving backwards, slowly taking him back towards the large double doors through which he had entered not too long ago.

He almost succeeded, but due to his poor spatial awareness, he managed to hit the heel of his black Derby shoe against the door – the sound it created was loud... too loud for you not to hear it.

“Oh, hi there! Can I help you with something?”

Your cheery tone surprised the CEO, mainly because it was a complete one-eighty from last night, where you’d sounded anything but happy. But here you were, smiling away like you hadn’t just told him that he was rude, ignorant, and entitled. It was almost as if...

She doesn’t recognize me.

“If you need some time to look, that’s fine. But I can also give you some recommendations if you’re not sure what to get,” you continued, that bright smile still adorning your face.

Seungcheol didn’t know whether to be relieved or creeped out by it.

Still, against his better judgment, he decided to play dumb and pretend like he didn’t know you. He was already running late, and he needed coffee, so what did he have to lose?

Clearing his throat, he carefully made his way to the counter before scanning his eyes over the large menu that hung on the wall behind you.

“Could I, uh, have a cafe latte?”

“Sure! Small, medium, or large?” you asked, your fingers hovering above the register as you waited for his response.

“Medium is fine, no sugar.”

“Hot or cold?”

“Hot.”

“Anything else?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks.”

You nodded, looking away briefly to finalize his order before pointing to a second screen that showed his total. “That will be 4,700 won, please.”

“Do you accept card too?” Seungcheol asked while fishing his wallet out of his pocket.

—

“Yes, we do,” you answered, stopping in your tracks as your eyes fixated on the man’s wallet.

Wait. That wallet…

“Great! Here you go then.” And that voice… no fucking way.

You swiftly shifted your gaze back to the man’s face. When you’d first spotted him standing in the shop, you thought that there was something familiar about him – you just hadn’t been able to pinpoint it. But everything suddenly clicked as you took him in again.

The blond hair, the dark brown almond-shaped eyes, the goddamn wallet that he’d so brazenly taken from his pocket in an attempt to bribe you.

He was wearing a blue suit instead of the dark brown one he’d worn yesterday, and his black coat had been replaced by a brown one that looked even more expensive. Even his white mask had been switched out for a black one. Still, there was no doubt in your mind that it was him… Melon pan dude.

How in the hell had he ended up here… at your place of work of all places?

“Aren’t you going to take it?” he questioned, tilting his head quizzically when you still hadn’t taken the credit card that he was holding out.

“Right,” you grumbled before snatching the card right out of his hand rather harshly.

Any type of joy you’d felt at the prospect of getting to make another one of your coffee creations had disappeared as soon as you realized who you’d be making it for.

“Yah! What the hell?” the man exclaimed, his eyes narrowing at your action. “Is this how you treat your customers?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you looked him dead in the eyes as you swiped his card. “Only the ones that deserve it.”

“Excuse me?!”

“You heard me,” you replied, your voice void of any emotion as you calmly placed his card back onto the counter.

You knew damn well that if your boss caught you treating any customer this way, he’d give you hell for it. But you just couldn’t help it. Even though you’d only met the man yesterday, he already managed to evoke such extreme emotions from you that you couldn’t just stay silent and pretend like he wasn’t a total prick.

The stranger scoffed as he slid his credit card back into his wallet. “You know, I didn’t even want to be here in the first place. Do you think I’d willingly go to a place where the staff doesn’t even respect me?”

“Then why are you here? Plenty of coffee places to choose from,” you retorted, turning around briefly to start on his coffee. He did pay for it after all – the sooner you got it done, the sooner he’d leave you alone.

“It’s nice to know you’re rude both at and outside of work,” the man sneered.

You chuckled bitterly at his words as you worked on his beverage. “Oh, so now you’re calling me rude? Isn’t that a little hypocritical for someone who tried to bribe me for a fucking snack?”

“I’m not reliving this bullshit again,” he snapped.

“You asked for it,” you said nonchalantly as you turned back around, the milk you’d just steamed in your right hand and the cup of coffee in your left hand.

“When the hell did I- You know what? Just give me what I came for, and I’ll be out of here... for good,” he sneered.

“Trust me, there’s nothing I want more,” you grumbled, feeling this close to throwing the hot drink in his face with the amount of adrenaline that was coursing through your body.

It was tempting, but you really didn’t want to ruin your life and end up in jail for assaulting someone who wasn’t even worth your time and energy.

“Good. Hurry up then.”

Your jaw clenched at his demanding tone, but you chose to ignore it for now. Instead, you focused on the tulip you were trying to create. You’d thought about pouring the milk into the shape of a middle finger but decided against it when you realized that he might use that to ruin the company name – you wouldn’t put it past him to call you out on social media.

You had hoped that he would have taken the coffee and left without another word, but of course, he had to ruin that scenario by opening his mouth to start something... again.

“Let’s see if this coffee is really as good as the reviews say. I doubt the barista they were talking about was you,” he snickered as he grabbed a lid and a sleeve for his cup.

“Asshole,” you muttered, your fingers clenching around the counter as you tried to keep it together for just a bit longer. Two could play that game, though. “Well, just so you know, the melon pan I got was delicious,” you emphasized, watching in delight as his cocky expression morphed into one of anger at your mention of the melon pan.

Serves him right.

“Whatever,” he huffed with a glare directed your way. “I’m out of here,” was the final thing he said before turning around and storming away with his fresh coffee.

“Oh, oh,” you whispered to yourself as you noticed your boss enter not even two seconds after the stranger had stormed out of the shop. And he did not look happy.

“What the hell was that? Did you just piss off one of our customers?”

You averted your gaze down, mentally preparing yourself for the scolding that was about to come. “It wasn’t what it looked like.”

“It wasn’t? So, you’re telling me that man didn’t just storm out of here, huh?” He was standing right next to you now, a little too close for your liking.

“I guess he wasn't in the best mood,” you mumbled, praying that he'd just let you off with a warning.

“Not the best mood, huh? How many times have I told you to treat our customers with respect? Do you even want to keep your job?” he hissed as he slammed his hands down on the counter, the unexpected sound making you flinch in your spot.

“I do,” you responded, gritting your teeth in frustration.

“Then act like it for once. You better hope that he doesn't write us a bad review because that will be on you. Am I clear? We should be lucky if he still wants to come back here after your shitty service. Sanghoon would never act like this.”

You couldn't suppress the scoff that you were holding at his ridiculous statement. Yes, you admit that you could have been more professional to the stranger, but it had been a special circumstance, and you’d acted a little out of character. But to compare you to Sanghoon like that? Ha! All your incompetent co-worker ever did was get on your nerves and sit on his ass while he typed away on his phone. So yes, of course, he would never act like that when you were doing all the work he was getting paid for.

“You think this is a fucking joke, Y/N?”

“No, Sir,” you muttered, almost wanting to slap yourself for losing control of your emotions in front of your boss.

“Let's see if you think this is funny. Count this as your last warning. If I catch you treating any customer badly, you're out. I'm sick and tired of your shit, so let this be a lesson. Fix that attitude, or you're fired. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” you replied, deciding that speaking up would only make it worse. You couldn't afford to lose your job, not without a proper backup plan set in place.

“Good. Then get to work. You're on your own today.”

A frown made its way onto your face as you processed your boss’ words. “Sanghoon is not coming in?”

“What about being on your own don't you get? He took the day off. That's all you need to know.”

“Of course he fucking did,” you muttered under your breath as you got ready to start your chores for the day.

This was like the third time he'd taken a day off this month, leaving you with a shit ton of work to do on your own. You, however, were lucky if you managed to get one or two days off once every four months. Yes, you were aware that it wasn’t very ethical, but there was a reason you’d been putting up with this bullshit for so long.

It just so happened that Oh My! Coffee was among the highest-paying coffee shops in Seoul, believe it or not. Your boss was greedy and always looking for new ways to save or make money, but he at least had the common sense to compensate his employees adequately.

Any other person might have wondered why a man as greedy as him would willingly pay his staff more than the legally required minimum wage, but you couldn’t care less. All you knew was that your current salary allowed you to live comfortably – comfortable enough to put aside a small amount of money from time to time without having to worry about being able to afford your rent.

The offers you’d received from other coffee shops you’d applied for at the time had all been significantly less generous, which, naturally, had been the deciding factor for you to take the job at Oh My! Coffee. And now here you were, stuck with an asshole of a boss and a good-for-nothing co-worker – that is, if you could even really call him a co-worker at all.

Your situation was far from ideal. That much was obvious. But it wasn’t like you hadn’t been trying to look for other options. Up till now, all your search attempts had resulted in disappointment because there really seemed to be no shop that was able to match or beat your current salary. Besides, no matter how hard things could get at times, you simply weren’t willing to sacrifice that little bit of financial freedom you had.

Unless you could find an opportunity that would improve your current financial situation, quitting your job was out of the question.

So, for the time being – as shitty as it was – your boss not giving you any proper days off was just another thing on the list to prove that he was a sexist piece of shit who loved to make your life a living hell.

“Y/N!” Now what? “Didn't I tell you to clean the windows properly last time? I want you to do it again. And there better not be a speck of dirt when I come back.”

“I'm on it!” you called, already dreading the fact that it was going to be another long and exhausting day.

The next morning, Seungcheol found himself standing in front of Oh My! Coffee once again, despite having promised himself that he’d never come back here. How did that happen? He blamed it on you and your damn good coffee.

Seungcheol hated to admit it, but the reviews about the vintage coffee bar hadn’t been wrong one bit. Even though the CEO thought you were extremely rude, the cafe latte you’d served him yesterday was no doubt the best coffee he’d ever tasted.

The nutty aroma, together with the subtle earthy undertones, gave the coffee a depth of flavor that he couldn’t get enough of. Every sip had been so smooth and rich, with a coffee-milk ratio that ensured a perfect balance of flavors – the sweetness of the milk had perfectly complemented the boldness of the coffee.

Although it went against his wishes, he did make some efforts to find a new coffee place – simply because he wasn’t looking forward to having yet another frivolous confrontation with you.

Similar to yesterday, he’d scrolled through the Naver list, checked out reviews, and finally stumbled upon another place that looked like it would meet his standards. However, after taking one sip of the beverage he’d ordered, he already found himself throwing the cup in the trash as soon as he’d exited the shop.

It was like you’d completely ruined any other coffee experience for him. He’d had a taste of your coffee, and there was no going back, no matter how much he tried to convince himself that there had to be other places like that out there. Seungcheol contemplated with himself for a good fifteen minutes before he finally gave in to his craving.

But as he stood in front of the large double doors again, he suddenly wasn’t so sure whether he made the right decision to come back here. Because why was he so willing to put himself into potentially another petty argument for a cup of coffee?

In any case, he could’ve just requested his secretary to get it for him, so why didn’t he? Why did he feel the need to pick it up himself and risk starting another squabble?

Was it because he suddenly preferred to experience the smell of freshly made coffee first-hand? Or was it because some part of him was looking forward to seeing you, the disrespectful stranger who didn’t seem afraid to stand up to him?

“No way,” he breathed with a shake of his head. “It’s definitely the coffee.” Nothing more, nothing less.

He would just get his coffee and leave before things could escalate.

“You’re back,” you exclaimed as soon as you noticed Seungcheol walk up to the register.

Unlike yesterday, you’d immediately recognized him without him having to utter a single word – he figured as much.

“Yeah, got a problem with that?” he mused with raised brows, preparing himself for one of your sassy comebacks.

Instead, you smiled brightly and shook your head. “No, not at all! We, uh, we’re glad you chose to come back.”

“Okay?”

Seungcheol was taken aback by your switch in attitude once again. You definitely recognized him. He was sure of that. So why were you suddenly pretending as if you didn’t have another argument yesterday? He’d at least expected some resistance from your side. It made him feel almost... disappointed. Or was it confusion he was feeling? Either way, it was odd, and it made him slightly uncomfortable for some unknown reason.

The sound of a throat clearing rather loudly pulled his attention away from you and towards the man who was standing to your left, his arms crossed and a look on his face that didn’t seem all too friendly – and it was definitely directed at you.

“And…,” Seungcheol turned his gaze back to you. “I would like to apologize for my behavior yesterday. That wasn’t professional. I’m sorry,” you added, your voice tense and slightly raspy.

Based on the fact that you were struggling to get the words out, he assumed that your apology wasn’t voluntary and most definitely not sincere. His guess was that the man in the corner – whom Seungcheol guessed was your boss – had something to do with it. But since he hadn’t come here to cause any trouble, he decided to just go along with it for your sake and for the sake of his future coffees.

“Sure, no problem. Let’s just forget about it,” he nodded, his eyes flicking back between you and the other man, who had now moved to stand beside you. “Could I just get the same thing I ordered yesterday?”

Your body visibly relaxed at his positive response, so he knew that he’d made the right decision by not causing a scene right now.

“Of course.”

As the CEO was waiting for you to finish his coffee, he noticed that the man still hadn’t moved from his spot at the counter.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Seungcheol asked, raising his brows at the man who obviously wanted something from him with the way he kept staring.

“No, no! I’m just really glad that you decided to come back. It’s such an honor to have you in my shop, Mr. Choi.”

The CEO was glad that he had no liquid in his mouth, or he would have spit it all out the moment his name was mentioned.

“You know who I am?” he asked, his eyes flicking to you for a second. Only you didn’t seem to be fazed by the revelation, your eyes not even once straying from the coffee you were working on.

Did you know him? Or did you just not care about who he was?

“Of course! How could I not recognize you? You’re the managing CEO of SEVENTEEN World. I’d be able to spot an icon such as yourself anywhere.”

Seungcheol frowned slightly, wondering if his disguise was really that bad. Perhaps it was time to start adding beanies to his wardrobe from now on.

“Uh, yeah. Well, I’d like to keep that on the down low if you don’t mind.”

“Yes, I totally understand. But no worries, Sir. My lips are sealed,” the man assured him, which was followed by a smile that looked too fake to be genuine. “Ah, how rude of me! I totally forgot to introduce myself. My name is Park Wonshik,” he bowed before continuing. “If you need anything, and I mean anything, just let me know, and we’ll make it happen.”

The CEO quickly had to mask the snort that threatened to escape with a cough. Who did this man think he was? Did he really believe that this little act of his was going to get him anywhere? Whoever told him that sucking up to one of Korea’s most successful businessmen was a good idea was dead wrong. If anything, it only put Seungcheol off and made him want to get out of there as soon as possible.

“I doubt I’ll need anything other than my coffee,” he finally said, his eyes shifting back to you in the hope the man would take the hint and drop whatever phony act he was putting on.

“Right! Your coffee. Y/N? How are you doing with Mr. Choi’s drink?”

The smile that had been on your boss’ face just seconds ago dropped immediately as soon as his attention turned to you, now replaced by a scowl that was anything but amicable.

You lifted your head briefly to glance at your boss. “It’s almost done, Sir,” you responded dully, seemingly unbothered by the look your boss was throwing your way.

It was almost as if you were used to this kind of behavior from him.

“Well, would you hurry it up already? We don’t have all day,” he sneered and relaxed his facial muscles before turning his focus back to the CEO. “Apologies, Sir. Y/N tends to be a bit slow sometimes, but I assure you that it will only take a moment,” he spoke, throwing him another fabricated smile as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Seungcheol was flabbergasted by the abrupt change in demeanor, unable to form a response in that moment. It made him wonder if the man even knew how ridiculous he looked – trying to come off as a well-established business owner who had his shit together when it was, in fact, obvious that he needed to work on his people skills.

Although you and the CEO weren’t on the best terms, he knew for a fact that spending less than five minutes on making a coffee did not equal being ‘slow’. Hell, even if it was, he’d happily wait for ten or twenty minutes if it meant he got to have another one of those mind-blowing lattes.

In Seungcheol’s eyes, anyone who treated their employees with disrespect was automatically guaranteed a spot in his bad books. From what he had seen of Park Wonshik in the few minutes he spent in the shop, the man was already well on his way to get there.

How the hell did you manage to put up with that on a daily basis?

—

You were trying not to let your boss get to you. Keyword: trying. But the man was making it nearly impossible with the way he was bossing you around in front of the one person you really didn’t want to see... Melon pan dude.

Why had he even come back in the first place? As far as you could remember, he’d made it abundantly clear that he would stay away “for good” after yesterday’s debacle, so what the hell was he getting at? Did he come back just to get a reaction out of you? If that was the case, then he was sure out of luck because he wouldn’t be getting any more fight out of you.

Your boss had drilled it into your head that he wouldn’t tolerate any more mistakes on your end, and you weren’t going to try and test his limit.

Just this morning, he’d made sure to remind you again after giving you another scolding as soon as you’d stepped foot into the coffee bar. Because not only had you offended and scared away a potential regular customer, you’d royally fucked up and offended “the one and only CEO Choi Seungcheol of SEVENTEEN World,” as your boss put it.

At first, you thought that he was talking out of his ass, but then it became clear that your crazy boss had actually scoured the CCTV footage for your little argument with the man. And apparently, he discovered that one of the outdoor cameras had managed to catch a glimpse of the CEO in front of his car, where he’d lowered his mask to take a sip of his coffee before taking off – that sight had been enough for your boss to put two and two together.

It shouldn’t have surprised you that your boss already knew all about the CEO and the SEVENTEEN World corporation. The man was a greedy fucker who would do about anything to get to the top, so scoring a billionaire as a regular was the equivalent of hitting the jackpot.

To think that he’d potentially lost such an S-Class customer as a result of your “shitty attitude” no doubt made him want to make your work life even more miserable than it already was. But how were you supposed to have known that your newfound rival was actually one of the most influential people in South Korea?

Of course, you’d heard of SEVENTEEN World. How could you not have when it was one of the biggest corporations out there and literally everywhere? You just hadn’t bothered to familiarize yourself with it and its CEOs because, well... why would you? It wasn’t something you were interested in, and you weren’t about to be either.

Honestly, you couldn’t give two shits about one of the CEOs coming to the shop. So what if he was famous? So what if he was filthy rich? In your eyes, he was still the rude stranger who’d tried to bribe you the other night. No amount of money or fame was going to change that.

You did have to admit that although you weren’t particularly happy to see him, a part of you was relieved that he’d returned for another coffee. It meant that your job was safe for now and that your boss had one less reason to hate you. But then again, that didn’t mean that he was going to stop criticizing you and making you look bad in front of customers. Of course, that would have been wishful thinking.

You’d already accepted that the universe hated you a long time ago, so you just had to suck it up for the time being.

At least Melon pan dude had taken the hint and let you off easy today. The last thing you needed right now was for the two of you to start another petty argument in front of your superior. Because with the way your boss was trying to kiss the CEO’s ass, you were pretty sure that even if the CEO were to provoke you again, he’d happily let him and then continue to blame you for upsetting the customer in the aftermath of it all.

Yeah, you weren’t about to let that happen. You’d finish the coffee and take your break without causing a fuss. Simple and easy, just how you liked it.

“Your coffee is done,” you finally announced, placing the steaming latte onto the counter under the watchful eye of your boss.

Similar to yesterday, the CEO grabbed a lid and a cup sleeve from the counter.

“Thanks,” he nodded, picking up his hot beverage.

“Enjoy it and have a nice day,” you responded with a polite nod before starting to move towards the back. You really needed a short break after all of this.

At the same time, your useless co-worker decided to return from his own morning break.

Going against company policy, he’d extended his official fifteen-minute break with an additional fifteen minutes. It was typical Sanghoon behavior, so you weren’t exactly surprised. He loved to bend the rules to do whatever the fuck he pleased, and your misogynistic boss just let him.

It wasn’t fair… not in the slightest, but what could you do? Complaining about it would only end up with your break time getting cut – yes, you were speaking from experience. So, over time, you’d just learned to appreciate any break you could get, no matter how short it was.

“What do you think you’re doing?” your boss interfered, putting himself between you and the door to prevent you from leaving.

“Taking my break?” you questioned with a frown, not at all liking his tone.

Somehow you already knew that this wouldn’t end with you having a few peaceful minutes to yourself.

He quickly shook his head, a bitter chuckle leaving his mouth at your question. “Oh no, you’re not. There’s still more than enough work for you to do before you can even think of taking a break. I need you to start sorting the inventory and do a deep cleanse while you’re at it.”

Was he fucking serious?

“Sanghoon was supposed to do that though,” you mumbled as you could feel your blood pressure start to increase with every second that passed.

“And I’m telling you that you’re going to do it instead. Sanghoon has more than enough important things to do.”

Important things? Yeah right. Then why is the useless idiot currently slouched on a chair with his face buried in his phone?

That’s what you were thinking, but definitely not what came out of your mouth.

“But, Sir. That’s just not fa-”

“Y/N. I don’t want to hear anything. Or do I have to remind you again that you’re already walking on thin ice? Just do your damn job for once without opening that big mouth of yours.”

You sighed, not having it in you to put up a fight. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Then get to it. I’ll come check on you later,” he said, stepping aside to let you through. “Oh! Mr. Choi! You’re still here? How’s the coffee? To your liking, I hope?”

Your head turned around so fast that you could have sworn you heard something snap in your neck. Based on the frown that had taken over the CEO’s face and the look he was giving your boss, you guessed that he’d just witnessed all of that.

Why was he still here?

“It’s...” his eyes met yours for a moment, “perfect,” he stated, his mask already back in place before you even had the chance to get a proper look at his face.

“Wonderful! We hope to see you back many more times!” your boss exclaimed loudly. “Y/N? Don’t you have something to do?” he asked, even though you knew it was anything but a question with the pointed look he threw your way.

“Right,” you muttered and reluctantly turned around without another word, mentally preparing yourself for the horrible assignment you were tasked with.

Still, you couldn’t stop the slight smirk from appearing as you made your way to the storage room. Knowing that you’d proved the cocky man wrong with your barista skills gave your ego enough of a boost to make the day just a bit more bearable.

In all your years of coffee making, no one had ever been able to resist your coffee. It was just that good. Yes, you knew you sounded a bit arrogant, but you wouldn’t be saying it if it wasn’t absolutely true – the power your coffee held was exactly what kept the place running.

On that note, you were fairly certain that you’d be seeing a lot more of each other from now on, whether you liked it or not.

Just as you had predicted, that was exactly what happened. In the days that followed, the CEO stopped by the coffee bar once a day – nearly always in the morning and always for the exact same order: a medium-sized cafe latte.

With you working six days a week and with Sanghoon being close to useless, encountering him was practically inevitable. Fortunately, for the most part, the two of you managed to be cordial with one another, aside from the occasional taunting remarks that the businessman threw your way. You knew that he was trying to get you to react to him because that was just who he was – a provocative little shit. But you couldn’t let yourself get carried away, not when you knew that your boss was watching your every move.

Ever since your superior had revealed that he used the camera feed to discover that Melon pan dude was, in fact, a rich businessman, you’d become even more conscious of how you behaved during work hours. Because who knows how many times he had already done this before?

Up until about a week ago, you believed that it had been a one-time thing. But of course, you should have known better.

After serving the last customers from the morning rush, your boss requested that you prepare his coffee and bring it to his office. You hadn’t thought anything of it because it wasn’t the first time you’d done so. However, what you didn’t expect to find was him casually reviewing the camera footage of you and the SEVENTEEN World CEO from two days prior – you knew that because of the purple hoodie you’d worn underneath your apron that day.

Although the discovery had shocked you at first, you couldn’t exactly say that you were surprised about any of it. It certainly explained how he always knew about everything that went on despite being present at the shop for only about half of your six-day workweek – God knows what that man did besides constantly bossing you around and ruining your mood.

Regardless, that didn’t make the whole thing any less creepy. Spying on your employees through the camera feed? What kind of crazy psycho shit was that?

The worst thing of all was that he hadn’t even tried to conceal it. If anything, it was almost like he’d wanted you to see it.

As soon as he noticed that you’d caught on with what he’d been up to before you showed up, he was all too happy to show you the setup, just so that he could let you know that he was “watching you” and that you should be thinking twice about “messing up or mistreating valuable customers.”

What he probably hadn’t realized was the fact that he’d also indirectly revealed the spots inside the shop that the cameras failed to capture. So, despite the burning hatred you felt for the man and his disgusting behavior, you had taken advantage of the moment and memorized every single one of them to the best of your ability.

Even though it didn’t help you get rid of the problem that was your meddlesome boss, at least it would allow you to hide whenever you needed a moment to breathe – or in the case of Melon pan dude, you were able to use the blind spots to temporarily drop the fake act and reciprocate his provocations with your own.

It was around the fifth day of him visiting the coffee bar when you got to ‘test’ one of said blind spots for the first time. And no, it definitely hadn’t been planned. But the CEO had managed to piss you off to the point where you felt like you had no choice but to snap and let him know that you were anything but happy with his stupid actions.

—

It was close to noon. The shop was pretty much empty at this hour, apart from the two regulars who were drinking their coffee in peace at their usual tables. Sanghoon was in the back doing God knows what while you were in the middle of restocking the coffee and milk supply.

You were ecstatic about the fact that your boss wouldn’t be at the shop today, which, for you, meant that no one would be screaming in your ear during quiet moments such as these. Instead, you were able to take advantage of the situation and enjoy the soothing jazz music playing in the background while you busied yourself with your small task.

As you softly hummed along to the melodic tunes, you subconsciously found your thoughts drifting to no one other than Melon pan dude.

Strangely enough, the man had yet to come in for his usual coffee order. Based on the majority of his previous visits, you’d established that he preferred to get his coffee early in the morning, right before the biggest morning rush.

But he was a CEO after all. Perhaps something important had come up? Or had he finally managed to find another place that served better coffee than you did?

The latter shouldn’t have bugged you as much as it did, but the thought of there being another barista in Seoul who could top your coffee creations was bringing out your competitive side. Then again, why did you even care? It was Melon pan dude you were talking about. Losing someone like him to the competition was definitely not something you were going to cry about.

Your boss, however, would probably be the only one crying about it – and then find a way to pin the whole thing on you.

“You’re thinking about me, aren’t you?” a familiar voice shook you out of your thoughts.

Your eyes flicked over to the person in question, their sparkling eyes staring right at you as it dawned on you who was standing on the other side of the counter.

Speaking of the devil.

The CEO’s blond hair was covered by an orange beanie that seemed to match perfectly well with the black coat he’d chosen to wear today. Similarly, his face was once again hidden behind a white mask, even though you were pretty sure that he was smirking based on the way his eyes scrunched up ever so slightly.

“In your dreams,” you scoffed but quickly composed yourself when you realized where you were.

Technically, he wasn’t wrong – you had been thinking about him – but it wasn’t like you were going to tell him that.

As if he would need anything else to inflate that big ego of his.

The CEO chuckled in response and rested his hands on the counter to lean a little closer “Oh, come on. You can’t deny that you missed me at least a little bit,” he teased.

You cleared your throat in response, choosing to ignore his statement. Whatever had caused him to delay his coffee run was really none of your business. You had a job to do after all.

“What is it going to be today? The usual?”

“Yeah,” he said before turning his body slightly to let his eyes scan through the shop as you typed in the order. “Wait. I’ll drink it here. And add a glass of fresh orange juice and a piece of that red velvet cake while you’re at it,” he continued, pointing to the display left from the register.

“Ehm, sure?” you responded, surprised that he even wanted to stay when there was the risk of being spotted. What happened to staying low-key? “I’ll bring it out soon. Just take a seat.”

That alone should have been enough foreshadowing for what was about to happen. Because you should have known that your day was going to be ruined one way or another. If it wasn’t your boss or Sanghoon, then it had to be the cocky CEO who had decided to deviate from his usual morning routine.

“Your order,” you said after you had made your way over to the table he had chosen to sit at.

It was located at the very back of the shop, and fairly out of sight from anyone entering through the double doors due to the various plants and decorations surrounding the small table. You guessed it made sense that he would choose such a spot with him being well-known and all.

The man immediately looked up from his phone when you announced your presence. “Here. Let me help you with that,” he insisted as he put the device away.

Before you even had a chance to open your mouth in protest, he had already reached up to grab the cup of coffee from the serving tray you were holding.

The unexpected move caused all the weight of the remaining item to shift to the back of the tray, which would have been fine if you had been prepared – only you weren’t. And with your other hand holding the slice of cake you’d wanted to put down first, there was no way to stop the tray from toppling over.

You watched in horror as the large glass of orange juice tipped in your direction, the liquid spilling out of the glass and simultaneously staining your clothes, as well as the brand-new shoes that you had bought a few days ago with your hard-earned money.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, the glass continued to fall off the tray, shattering into a million pieces right at your feet. The harsh sound it created echoed through the nearly empty space, interrupting the cozy atmosphere and startling the two regulars who had been in their peaceful bubbles.

For the first few seconds that followed you didn’t say anything, your gaze fixated on the twinkling glass shards decorating the wooden floor. You were trying to determine if you hadn’t just imagined this whole scenario. It was all just a little too much to process for you at that moment. Was this karma’s way of finally catching up with you for taking that last melon pan? If so, you truly hoped that it would eventually make its way back to the man to ruin his day – it was only fair in your opinion.

Somehow, you managed to gather yourself and immediately turned around to apologize to the two customers for the noise before focusing your attention back on the businessman, whose eyes went big at the series of unfortunate events that had just occurred.

“What the hell, dude? Why did you do that?!” you exclaimed, all your etiquette thrown completely out the window the second you opened your mouth.

Fortunately for you, you quickly realized that you were standing right in one of the blind spots you’d memorized not too long ago. In other words, there was no reason for you to hold back the anger you felt coursing through your body.

“I was trying to help!” he gasped, holding up his hands in defense.

“Well, obviously you didn’t. Look at this!” You frantically motioned to your current state. “You don’t just take something off a tray when someone is holding it. That’s just common sense,” you grumbled, lifting one of your feet in an attempt to shake off the drops of orange juice that had landed on your white sneakers.

“I’m really sorry,” he mumbled, his eyes taking in your drenched form.

Anyone who took a quick look at him might have thought that he felt bad for you with the way his hand was covering his mouth. But with you being so close in proximity and his mask now completely removed, you could see his face slowly beginning to turn red. That, together with the raised cheeks and the little shake of his shoulders made it fairly obvious that he was desperately trying to suppress his laughter.

“You think this is funny? Seriously dude? This is your goddamn fault,” you frowned as you placed the cake onto a nearby empty table and bent down to carefully collect some of the large shards of glass.

“I don't,” he shook his head, but couldn’t help but let out a snort. “Okay, maybe a little? I mean, it is kinda funny to see you like this,” he continued, his eyes scrunching up before he finally allowed himself to laugh.

“You are unbelievable,” you huffed, your hands slightly trembling from the adrenaline that was rushing through your body.

This man was definitely not good for your health – you could literally feel your blood pressure rising with every second that passed. How could he just sit there and laugh when you were clearly upset?

“I honestly don’t see why people idolize you. Amazing CEO, my ass.”

Your words caused his mood to do a complete one-eighty, the smile that had been on his face just a second ago now replaced with a glare that he directed your way.

“Hey! What does me being a CEO have to do with anything? It’s not my fault you can’t balance for shit,” he retorted.

Yep, you definitely hurt his precious little ego there.

“Well, maybe if you’d read the room and learned some manners, none of this would have happened in the first place.”

He chuckled bitterly in response. “Manners? Me? Says the one who keeps insulting the customer.”

“Oh, boohoo. Am I supposed to feel bad for you now? I have an actual job to do here if that wasn't obvious already,” you snapped as you put the pieces of glass you’d collected onto the tray you were still holding.

“You’re doing a pretty shitty job yeah,” he stated before nonchalantly sipping his coffee as if he hadn’t just offended you.

Although what you really wanted was to retaliate and cuss him out some more, you decided to bite your tongue for now. After all, the two regulars were still in the shop, and you couldn’t afford to let them see you completely go off on another customer. You had at least that much self-control. Instead, you briefly closed your eyes and took a deep breath before opening your mouth again.

“You really don't know when to stop, do you?”

“I guess not, but that's what keeps things fun, right?” he smirked, which was followed by an obnoxious wink being sent your way.

The freaking nerve of this man was truly something. In all your years of living, you didn’t think you’d ever met anyone as impudent as him.

“I think we both have very different definitions of fun,” you mumbled, slowly rising up from your position on the floor with the tray that contained most of the glass shards.

The CEO took another sip of his coffee while he leaned back in his seat, a smug look taking over his features.

“Hmm, I’m not too sure about that. You seem to be enjoying yourself just fine in my presence.”

“I hate to ruin your little delusion, but if this is your idea of fun, I really don’t want to be part of it,” you said, but immediately cringed at the feeling of your pants clinging uncomfortably to the skin of your legs.

You’d already used your last set of spare clothing the week before – when you spilled coffee over yourself – so you were stuck in these clothes for now. The prospect of having to endure another six to seven hours in your ruined attire didn’t seem too appealing, but you guessed you had survived worse things – like your boss humiliating you in front of customers.

Something in your expression caused the man to wipe the smug look off his face, his features softening slightly. It was almost as if he suddenly realized that he had put you in this predicament and was being an ass about it.

“Alright, how about this? I’m feeling at least a little bit generous today, so why don’t you let me pay for the dry cleaning? Maybe some new shoes too?” he suggested with a raise of his eyebrows.

You nearly wanted to scream at his absurd offer because had he really not learned his lesson? Why did the man think everything could be solved with money? It was as if that was his only way of fixing conflicts, which made you wonder if he was really that far removed from reality that he forgot about something as basic as normal human decency.

Just because you were working as a barista – a damn good one at that – didn’t mean that a little money would make you cave. Who did he think you were? Some charity that was in desperate need of his help? Yeah, no. You weren’t about to play his little game.

“There you go again with your damn money. I don’t need it, and I never will so stop offering it to me,” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him to emphasize your point.

He sighed at your refusal and shrugged before drinking the last of his coffee. “Suit yourself. I was actually trying to be nice for once, you know?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his response. “Please. As if you know how to be nice.”

The man paused for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as if he was trying to come up with a solid reaction.

“I’m just going to ignore that little comment. Anyway, I have more important matters to take care of than to argue with someone who doesn’t even know me,” he finally stated with a shake of his head before putting his mask back in place and making a move to get up from his seat. “Good luck with that, yeah?” he taunted as he motioned to your ruined clothes and the mess on the floor.

It was only when the orange beanie had completely disappeared from your sight that you finally moved from your position. A soft but bitter chuckle escaped from your lips as you realized what had just transpired.

Who would have thought that you would be arguing with some big-shot CEO about a glass of orange juice in the middle of your workday? It was certainly not how you’d imagined your day to go, but here you were – stuck at work and reeking of orange juice while he could go about his day as if nothing had happened.

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, Sanghoon decided that he’d spent enough time in the back and appeared right at the same time you were throwing away the last bit of glass. At the sight of your ruined clothes, your co-worker couldn’t contain his laughter.

“What the hell happened t-to y-you?” he laughed, bending over to rest his hands on his knees for support.

You just rolled your eyes as you shoved past him, not even bothering to give him an explanation.

Having to deal with your incompetent co-worker making fun of you when you already felt like you were about to snap any minute was not something you were in the mood for. You just needed him to mind his business, do his fucking job and let you get through the day without any further incidents.

—

After that altercation, you had been less than thrilled to see Melon pan dude the following day. But surprisingly, he had kept his mouth shut when he came in for his morning coffee – thankfully to go this time.

You weren’t sure if it had anything to do with your boss being there or the fact that he just wanted to forget it ever happened. Either way, you were happy that it hadn’t come up again. However, that didn’t mean that you had forgiven him for it, especially when he was the reason your shoes were completely ruined, now permanently stained with the orange liquid. You’d tried everything to get it out of the material – from looking up stain removal tutorials to scrubbing for your life – but much to your disappointment, it had all been to no avail.

It was rare for you to splurge on yourself when you had so many bills to pay, so buying those shoes had been a nice little treat after a stressful week at work. That’s what made it all the more frustrating.

It was as if the universe was sending you yet another sign that you were definitely not the favorite... and apparently not allowed to have nice things.

Just like that time a few years ago when you’d gotten yourself a new laptop because your old one had officially died after eight whole years. Not even two days after you got it, you had already managed to break it by spilling water all over it. It had taken at least half of your paycheck to replace the damaged device.

Obviously, the shoes hadn’t been as expensive as the laptop, but the message was pretty clear: nice things never lasted when they were in your possession.

If you had to be honest, your ruined shoes weren’t the actual reason you were still so fired up about the whole incident. Not that you weren’t upset about your shoes – because you definitely were. You knew that spilling accidents were not uncommon in your line of work and that there would be a chance you’d get your shoes dirty. You just hadn’t expected it to happen the way it did, and to that extent, which brought you to the real issue at hand and also the source of your frustration: Melon pan dude and his ignorant attitude towards you.

How was it that a man could be so smart but so oblivious at the same time? At least, you assumed he had some brains because he did manage to become the head of an international empire that brought billions in revenue on a yearly basis. And as a result of that, you were fairly certain that he had dealt with his fair share of crises and stubborn businessmen.

So then how was he seemingly incapable of solving simple, mundane conflicts like a normal human being?

You had to admit that you were slightly biased and probably not the most cooperative person when it came to the CEO, but anyone with a set of brains could see that the fame had gotten to his head with the way he flaunted his wealth.

You had tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. You really had. It was just that with each visit that followed the orange juice incident and each provocation that left his mouth, you finally came to the conclusion that the two of you were just on completely different levels and would never be able to see eye to eye on anything except for coffee.

Coffee was probably the only thing you were ever going to agree on.

Speaking of coffee, there had been a few times when you thought of messing with his coffee just because you were that petty. But you’d never actually acted on those intrusive thoughts since Big Brother (aka the CCTV cameras) was still watching your every move. You might have been close to slipping up during a few moments of weakness, but you definitely hadn’t forgotten about that little thing.

On top of that, there was Sanghoon, who wouldn’t have hesitated to run to your superior if he were to somehow catch wind of you tampering with the CEO’s coffee order. Your boss took great pride in protecting the shop’s perfect image, which included keeping the “VIP customer,” at whatever cost.

It just wasn’t worth it when the cons severely outweighed the pros, so you simply stuck to being cordial, no matter how hard it was at times.

There was, however, one occasion that had made you seriously reconsider your opinion of the CEO. On the day of his ninth coffee run, he’d unexpectedly shown up during the morning rush and ended up stepping in between you and an agitated customer to save the day, as he liked to call it.

If anyone were to ask you, you’d probably say that it was more like him getting put in his place by an older woman, but of course, he was never going to admit that.

—

“Excuse me, young lady?”

“Yes, Mrs. Park?” you responded with a small, forced smile, already mentally preparing yourself for what was about to come.

She shook her head and pointed to her coffee before placing the cup back onto the counter, right where you’d put it just a minute ago.

“This is not the coffee I ordered.”

“It’s a decaf with three shots of espresso and a splash of cream, exactly how you like it, Ma’am,” you stated while simultaneously trying to finish the Iced Americano you were making.

“That is how I like it, yes,” she nodded, “but this is too bland. You didn’t put three shots of espresso in this coffee.”

“I’m absolutely sure there are three espresso shots in there, Mrs. Park,” you responded confidently before handing the finished Iced Americano to one of your other regulars and shooting him a friendly smile.

Despite you being in the middle of the morning rush and the shop being a little chaotic with orders piling up by the minute, you were very certain that you had prepared her order just right.

Sanghoon was tasked with taking the orders seeing as you were busy making them. Although you were aware that he had a tendency to mess up when it came to situations that required responsibility, with you double-checking everything, the probability of messing up a coffee order was close to zero.

Besides, Mrs. Park was a regular at the shop who came in about three times a week for her morning coffee – that coffee always being a decaf with three espresso shots and a splash of cream.

It wasn’t like you disliked her because there were those occasions when she was nice and struck up a little conversation with you. But the problem was that she liked to complain… a little bit too much. It was up to the point where she would prevent you from doing your job until she got exactly what she wanted.

Coffee too bland? Coffee too strong? Too much cream? Too little cream? Too cold? Too hot? You name it. She always managed to find something to complain about.

At this point, you were pretty used to her antics and knew how to handle the situation in such a way that got her out the door as fast as possible with minimal resistance. Hell, you were probably the only person that was willing to put up with her shenanigans.

Even your boss, the asshole who never seemed to back down from a fight, was no match for her. As far as you knew, she was the only customer that had ever stood up to him and told him that he was a “rude piece of work that needed to get his shit together” to his face. To say that he had been flabbergasted was an understatement.

You, on the other hand, had truly enjoyed the little confrontation – especially the look on your boss’ face as the older woman wiped the floor with him. She had told him everything you weren’t able to, so there was definitely a part of you, deep down, that appreciated her for standing her ground.

Regardless, that didn’t mean you were happy that she had chosen today to cause a scene. You just wanted to be done with the morning rush and take a well-deserved break.

Why did she always have to do this during the busiest time of the day?

“You’re lying. As you know, I’ve been here many times before, and my coffee has never tasted this bland,” she snapped back, not planning to let it go any time soon.

And yes, despite your boss getting his ass handed to him that one time, he still allowed her in the shop. After all, he was a sucker for money, and she was a paying customer, so forbidding her from coming to the shop was out of the question. He simply refused to engage with her whenever they happened to be there at the same time, which is how you ended up with the task of having to appease her several times a week.

It wasn’t like you already had a million other things to do.

“I can assure you that I made it just as I always do. But, if you’re not satisfied with your coffee, I could just add another espresso shot in there to make it stro-”

“No!” she cut you off with a sneer before crossing her arms over her chest. “I want a new coffee. A proper one this time, or I won’t hesitate to leave another bad review.”

Oh god. Your boss would have your head if yet another one of her rants made it onto Naver.

So, that is why you quickly dropped whatever you were holding and turned your body to give her your full attention.

“That won’t be necessary, Mrs. Park. Please. I’ll ma-”

The sound of a throat clearing stopped you mid-sentence, your eyes shifting to the source of the sound.

“If I may?” the man started, meeting your eyes for a brief second before he inserted himself between you and your regular.

Melon pan dude?

Due to the morning rush, you had been so focused on getting all the orders out that you hadn’t even realized that he had been in the shop all this time, waiting for his own coffee. But now that you had a chance to observe him, you wondered how you could have missed him in the first place.

Out of all the people that were currently in the shop, he was actually the one that stood out the most. The combination of his signature orange beanie and the soft brown coat you’d seen him wear before was a stark contrast from the other customers, of whom the majority was clad in attire consisting of various shades of black and gray.

Seeing as he already stood out enough as it was, you didn’t really understand why he felt the need to insert himself into a conversation that didn’t even concern him.

There was no way Mrs. Park would go down quietly.

On the contrary, the woman tended to make quite the spectacle whenever something was not to her liking. More often than not, it ended with all eyes on her and the person on the receiving end of her indignation – aka you. Not that she could care less, though. With the way she had handled your boss, you were fairly certain that she wasn’t afraid of anyone, which no doubt included rich CEOs with big egos.

So, whatever Melon pan dude had in mind, you had a feeling that it would result in a pointless screaming match with him getting a figurative ass-kicking.

For someone who wanted to stay under the radar, the man sure knew exactly what to do to put himself right in the spotlight. But then again, who were you to stop him from embarrassing himself? It wasn’t like you were the one responsible for any damage to his ego or his public image.

Besides, maybe it would actually teach him a lesson or two about involving himself in other people’s business. Because by the looks of it, he had not gotten that memo yet – said man was currently in the middle of staring down an already-agitated Mrs. Park.

“You know, I’ve been watching her prepare orders for a few minutes now, including yours. And I most definitely saw her add three espresso shots in your coffee,” he stated with crossed arms.

Although you weren’t able to see his entire face due to the mask covering most of it, his tone – one you were all too familiar with – told you that he was more than a little annoyed with the older woman.

“I know what I tasted. Don’t try to insert yourself in something that doesn’t concern you, young man,” Mrs. Park responded, seemingly unamused by the interruption.

This was followed by a breathy chuckle from the CEO before he spoke again. “Trust me. I’d prefer not to either, but you’re being a little more than unreasonable right now.”

“Ha! Unreasonable?” the woman snorted. “As a paying customer, I expect to get the coffee I ordered. But clearly, I did not get what I asked for.”

“Ever considered there might be something wrong with your taste buds?” the CEO panned with a raise of his eyebrows.

The disdain was apparent on the woman’s face as she uttered her next response.

“E-excuse me?!”

Oh no, he’d really done it now. He still didn’t know when to quit, did he?

“Need me to repeat that for you?” he challenged, his tone bordering on taunting.

“What I need is for you to move aside so I can resolve this matter!”

“Why don’t you just stop being a bother and let her do her job? If you haven’t noticed, you’re not the only one in here,” he pointed out, referring to the rest of the customers, all of whom seemed to be very invested in the dispute.

You couldn’t blame them. It wasn’t every morning they got to see some random dude go up against an older lady. And for what? A damn coffee order, that was.

The most shocking thing about all of this was probably the fact that he was actually trying to help you for once. You thought that he would have at least liked to see you suffer a little bit for all the times you had gotten on his nerves. It was… confusing and most unexpected.

Unfortunately, you didn’t have much to think it over due to the events that were about to unfold right in front of your eyes.

Within the next few seconds, Mrs. Park effortlessly pushed the much larger CEO aside as if he was nothing but a useless pawn standing in her way. That, of course, pulled a bunch of gasps and giggles from the bystanders, who were no doubt just as shocked as you.

You nearly would have laughed with them if it weren't for you realizing you were at work and needed to remain neutral, no matter how badly you might have wanted to express how you truly felt. But dang, that was definitely a sight you weren't going to forget.

The man in question was stunned, to say the least – understandably so, because who knew a small woman like Mrs. Park was hiding such strength? The CEO must have really struck a nerve to bring out that side of her.

To be fair, it shouldn't have surprised you it had even gotten to this point. The man had a gift for driving people up the wall – you knew that all too well after less than two weeks of knowing him. And with both him and Mrs. Park having strong personalities, the two were bound to clash one way or another.

If it was under a different circumstance, you would have loved to enjoy this display just a bit longer. But, if you actually wanted to get through your list of orders, you needed to find a way to put a stop to this. Besides, judging by the fire igniting in the CEO’s eyes, you feared that he was about to take it up a notch if you didn't immediately do something about it.

Before either Mrs. Park or Melon pan dude could get another word in, you quickly stretched out your arm in an attempt to stop the latter from saying or doing something he shouldn't.

“It's okay!” you intervened and gave the CEO a pointed look before directing your attention at the older woman. “No need to argue. I already redid your order, Ma'am,” you added while placing the new cup on the counter. “A decaf with three espresso shots and a little bit of cream.”

Mrs. Park smiled triumphantly at the sight of the steaming cup of coffee. “Thank you, dear,” she said as she reached out for it. This was followed by a nasty look being thrown in the CEO’s direction. “You see that, young man? That is how it's done.”

The CEO, who had already opened his mouth to retaliate, was quick to shut it at the sight of your excessive head shaking.

Your goal was to de-escalate the situation and get the older woman out of the shop as quickly as possible. His involvement would only slow down the process, so you hoped that he would get the hint and let you handle the rest from here.

The sound of another throat clearing pulled your attention right back to the woman who had been at the center of all this.

“Yes, Mrs. Park?”

“Aren’t you missing a little something, dear?”

A small frown made its way onto your face as you racked your brain for anything you could have possibly missed.

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to, Ma’am?” you responded, seemingly confused but also trying your best not to cry out in frustration.

She had already put Melon pan dude in his place and gotten her new coffee, so what else did she want?

“Well,” she huffed before pointing to the glass display, “the least you could do is give me one of those cookies on the house after everything I just went through.”

Ah. So that’s what the whole thing was about. A free cookie… you should have known. It wasn’t the first time she had tried to get something for free, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last time.

“You can’t be for real, right?” The CEO butted in before you’d even had a chance to respond. “You got what you wanted, and now you still want more?”

You mentally cursed at the man for opening his big fat mouth again. So much for letting you handle the situation.

“Just who do you think you are to speak to me like that?” the woman questioned, no doubt wondering who would have the audacity to argue with her the way he did.

“I think you’d be surprised to find out.”

“It’s fine! Please. It’s not a big deal,” you quickly interrupted upon hearing the CEO’s last words.

You doubted he actually wanted to reveal his identity and risk becoming front-page news. That wouldn’t do him nor you any good. The last thing you wanted was a bunch of reporters swarming the shop to grill you and anyone else they could find for the ‘juicy’ details.

“I got you a cookie on the house,” you announced, holding out the paper bag for her to take.

“Wonderful! I knew I could count on you,” she nodded and eagerly reached for the bag. “At least someone here knows how to treat people,” she grumbled, throwing the CEO a final look before taking her leave.

As soon as the door had closed behind Mrs. Park, a collective sigh sounded through the shop, which was immediately followed by the sound of continuous chatter.

It was kind of funny though, how everyone had been so invested just a few seconds ago but went right back to their conversations and phones as if nothing had happened. The CEO, however, was awfully quiet and seemingly deep in thought.

“You good?” you asked, feeling genuinely concerned when he hadn’t moved for a good minute.

You honestly didn’t know why you felt sorry for the guy, but something about today’s events had stirred something in you – something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Your question seemed to shake him right out of his bubble, his eyes snapping up to meet yours.

“Me? I’m fine,” he nodded and took a few steps towards the counter. “Is she always like this though?” he questioned, obviously referring to Mrs. Park.

You pursed your lips as you measured the amount of milk you’d need for the next order on your list – his to be exact. “Probably like ninety-nine percent of the time?”

The man scoffed in response, placing his hands on the smooth countertop. “And you just give into her like that? You know she was just looking for attention and a free cookie, right?”

“I know, but what can I do?” you sighed, shooting him a brief glance. “She’s a regular and my boss cannot stand the bad reviews, so it’s best to just give her what she wants from time to time.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “I thought you were bad, but she was something else.”

“Pfff, whatever, Mr. CEO. You’re worse than me and Mrs. Park combined,” you retorted with a roll of your eyes.

“Yah! At least I had the guts to put her in her place,” he defended, his eyes widening at your words.

“What place? I think you’re the one who got owned by her though,” you giggled as you grabbed your now-finished milk foam. “Didn’t you see the way she just pushed you aside like you were nothing? Bet you’re not used to that, huh?”

“That’s only because I let her. I was just- I mean… I-I can’t be fighting an old lady,” the man stuttered, his defense crumbling right there.

Oh, he was such a freaking liar.

You couldn’t help but grin as you skillfully poured the steamed milk into the paper cup, shaping it into a pretty flower. “Sure, that must have been the reason.”

“The least you could do is thank me,” the CEO grumbled.

Even though you weren’t able to see his whole face, you were pretty certain that he was pouting underneath his black mask.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” you chuckled, enjoying the effect your words had on him. Unfortunately, that moment could only last for so long seeing as you had other customers to serve. “Here. Your coffee’s ready.”

“Thanks. I have to run now, though. I’ll see you around, yeah?” You nodded, a small smile on your lips as you watched him grab his cup.

“Hey,” you called just as he was about to take his leave. The man raised his eyebrows questioningly, patiently waiting for whatever you were about to tell him. “Thanks… for trying to help me out.”

His face immediately softened at your expression of gratitude. “No problem,” he nodded, which was followed by a quick but unexpected wink in your direction before he also exited the shop.

Maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought.

—

After that debacle, you actually thought the two of you had made some real progress. Okay, it wasn’t like you were all buddy-buddy with another, but your opinion of the man had definitely taken a turn for the better.

For one, him coming to the shop hadn’t been bothering you as much anymore. You weren’t sure what had come over him, but he kept the teasing and taunting to a minimum during his next few visits.

Though his behavior had taken you by surprise, you were certainly not going to complain about it. Instead of the usual back and forth – that was, him trying to get a reaction out of you and you doing your best to ignore him – you found yourself having small conversations with the man that didn’t make you want to strangle him by the end of it.

Perhaps he had finally realized that being a dick wasn’t going to get him anywhere, especially if you were going to see each other on a nearly daily basis for his coffee runs. Or maybe he had decided that the risk of potentially damaging his public image wasn’t worth it after all, which, honestly, sounded a little more plausible to you.

Despite you having no desire to make him look bad whatsoever, you technically did have the means to do so. And if people loved anything, it was celebrity gossip. Hell, big celebrities had gotten canceled over the smallest and most ridiculous things, so who was to say that the same thing couldn’t happen to SEVENTEEN World’s managing CEO?

Of course, you wouldn’t ever think to take it that far. You weren’t exactly the man’s number-one fan, but you’d never want to wish something like that on someone. Besides, if his recent change in attitude was anything to go by, you were fairly certain that he and his reputation would be just fine.

Whatever it was, you had started to take somewhat of a liking towards the new and improved Melon pan dude.

Looking back on it now, you just wanted to laugh at yourself for being so naïve.

That friendly façade, that peaceful bubble in which you had momentarily forgotten what an ignorant asshole the CEO could be, had only lasted for a total of two days.

Yes. Two freaking days was all it had taken for him to throw it all right back in your face. Were you disappointed? A little. Surprised? Not in the slightest – it had all seemed too good to be true anyway. The average person doesn’t change overnight, and the CEO was apparently no exception to that either.

Once an entitled prick, always an entitled prick, isn’t that how the saying goes?

—

Today was not a good day for Seungcheol… and the day hadn’t even started yet.

The first thing he’d woken up to this morning was his private investigator informing him that the bracelet – the one he’d seen at Wonwoo’s place a little over a week ago – belonged to no one other than his dear sister.

When he’d initially spotted the bracelet, he’d hoped that it wasn’t true. But when his PI told him the bad news, Seungcheol had felt his heart break just a little bit. There was no way the PI could have been wrong about it – the CEO had made sure to hire only the best of the best. And the best he was, that much he’d proven already with the various documents and pictures he’d collected to confirm the CEO’s suspicions about the pair.

He just didn’t want to believe that his best friend and his sister would go as far as to lie about something so important. Seungcheol had trusted them with everything, and to think that they’d betrayed his trust affected him more than he would have liked.

Before starting this little investigation, Seungcheol had obviously weighed out the pros and cons that came with digging into the personal lives of the people he loved. Of course, somewhere deep down, he knew that it was totally immoral and reckless, and he was aware that it would inevitably open Pandora’s box. But the thought of being in the unknown, the thought of not knowing whether he was being lied to or not, had affected him to the point where he had started to neglect some of his duties as managing CEO.

That’s why he’d decided that he had to know the truth, regardless of the consequences – morals be damned.

But the truth hurt.

Seungcheol was not used to feeling like this, much less capable of dealing with it. Being the CEO he was, he’d dealt with more stressful and bad situations than he could count. But this? This was different. Nothing could have prepared him for this shitstorm. If it would have been any other work situation, he would have had no issue facing the problem head-on.

With this being a personal matter, however, Seungcheol couldn’t exactly approach this as he would a work-related issue. He felt like he had to gather a little more evidence at least, and come up with a concrete plan before he showed his cards. Because even though everything in his body told him to confront the pair, he had to keep it together for now.

The last thing he wanted to do was to jeopardize the future of SEVENTEEN World.

Naturally, with the CEO having to keep such a big secret to himself, the stress of it all was slowly starting to take its toll on his emotions.

Under normal circumstances, he would have gone to either Jeonghan or Mingyu for help. As the group ‘therapists’, the fashion CEO and the chef were no strangers to their friends coming to them for advice or, in some cases, to blow off steam. Both men were great listeners and just had this aura about them that made others naturally want to confide in them. In Seungcheol’s case, Jeonghan was his go-to person whenever he needed a listening ear, more so than Mingyu. Surely, that didn’t mean that Seungcheol valued his advice any less.

On the contrary, the chef had been there for him more times than he could count, in particular during the hard times he’d had to endure in the beginning stages of their business journey. He’d never explicitly told Mingyu this, but Seungcheol was pretty sure that he would have given up a long time ago if it hadn’t been for Mingyu’s unwavering trust and the many encouraging words he’d bestowed.

It was safe to say that Seungcheol had a special type of appreciation for the chef.

The reason Seungcheol tended to seek out Jeonghan, and not Mingyu, in times of distress was pretty straightforward: the two of them go way back. And because of that long-standing friendship, the fashion CEO probably knew Seungcheol better than anyone else.

It was a pain in the ass sometimes – because Jeonghan was certainly not afraid to give his unfiltered opinions – but the managing CEO also knew that his friend only wanted the best for him. Well… it usually took Seungcheol a while to see that, but that was beside the point.

With the CEO being in this predicament, however, neither Jeonghan nor Mingyu seemed like a great option.

Mingyu was obviously out of the question – seeing as he was Wonwoo’s closest friend, Seungcheol was quite positive that the other CEO was already in on the whole thing.

Though Jeonghan was no doubt just as much in the dark as Seungcheol had been, the thought of having to tell his oldest friend about the betrayal already made him want to cringe. Jeonghan would probably tell him to stop being such a grump and get over it, which was definitely not what Seungcheol needed to hear right now. He was fucking pissed and in no state to accept any form of criticism from anyone, especially from his best friend.

That’s why he was currently on his way to Oh My! Coffee for his daily fix of caffeine. Despite feeling stressed and extremely agitated, the CEO knew that a good cup of coffee would at least provide him with enough of a boost to get through the majority of the day.

He had a lot of shit that needed to get done, and if he didn’t find something to take his mind off the matter at hand, soon everyone would know something was wrong. And with everyone, he was mainly referring to Haewon.

Having been Seungcheol’s personal secretary for many years, she had spent enough time with the CEO to know when something was really bothering him.

Though their relationship was primarily professional, his secretary probably knew a lot more about his personal life than she should have. The CEO wasn’t stupid, though. He knew that it was inevitable with the busy life he led.

Just about everything in his daily schedule – even the majority of his weekends – was arranged through her, so he was rather impressed with himself that he’d even managed to keep the whole PI thing a secret for so long.

It really was surprising because Seungcheol swore she had some sort of sixth sense with the way she was always able to figure out exactly what was on his mind – it was freaky but quite convenient whenever he had a hard time verbalizing his concerns.

Still, the CEO didn’t think it was a good idea to involve his secretary in any of this. He knew that Haewon wasn’t the type to tell on him, which was one of the reasons she was still with him to this day, but he already expected her to pull a full-on Jeonghan on him if she were to find out about what he had been concocting behind her back.

Simply put, keeping it on the down low was probably in everyone’s best interest.

What Seungcheol hadn’t anticipated, however, was for his day to get even worse after just having confirmed his usual order at his new favorite coffee place.

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid your card got declined,” you spoke quietly, almost as if you were trying to soften the blow of the unexpected words that had just left your mouth.

Seungcheol shook his head in utter disbelief. He didn’t think he’d ever hear those words, certainly not in a context where they’d be directed at him.

“Decl- What? Try again,” he urged with a hint of a frown on his face.

“I’ve already tried it twice. Do you have another card I could try?” you responded with a shrug before handing him back his black credit card.

“For fuck’s sake,” Seungcheol grumbled as he hastily opened his wallet again to put his declined card back in place. He then grabbed onto his second black card and handed it over without a word, watching intently as you swiped it.

“I’m afraid this one is not working either,” you stated after a few seconds of silence, followed by you holding out yet another declined card.

Seungcheol almost wanted to scoff at the absurdity of the situation. How was it that neither of the two cards was working when he clearly had more than sufficient funds in his account? This had to be a fucking joke. There was just no other logical explanation for it.

“Then there’s something wrong with your system. My cards can’t be the issue,” Seungcheol shook his head, impatiently tapping his fingers against the countertop as he felt the frustration slowly start to spread through his entire body.

Just why did the universe have to mess with him today of all days?

“I can assure you our system works just fine,” you huffed, your clenched jaw making it quite obvious that you were trying to hold back whatever was really going through your mind.

“Well, obviously it can’t be me. I didn’t just go broke overnight,” he chuckled bitterly. “Reset the thing, try again. I don’t care whatever you do. Just make it work,” he added as he motioned to the register.

“I don’t know what else to tell you. Your cards. are. not. working.” you emphasized with a pointed look, seemingly done with the CEO’s refusal to believe that the problem was with his cards and not the shop’s system.

Seungcheol let out a frustrated sigh at your words, trying his very best not to snap back at you like he normally would have. He just wanted his damn coffee and get on with his day. And getting into an argument with you was not on his to-do list for today. So, choosing the high road, he reluctantly pulled a five thousand won banknote from his wallet.

“Just forget it. I got cash,” he muttered, nearly slamming the thing down onto the counter.

You didn’t say a word as you reached for the money. Neither did you say anything when you handed him back his 300 won worth of change.

It annoyed Seungcheol that you’d chosen to give him the silent treatment, but it wasn’t like it was anything new though.

Before the whole ‘cookie’ incident – which is the name he’d assigned to the encounter he’d had with the older woman – you’d tended to ignore his teasing remarks on a daily basis. Though it was a little frustrating for Seungcheol to not have you acknowledge him when he was speaking to you – if he had to guess, it probably had to do with your boss giving you nothing but grief for absolutely no reason – he hadn’t actually minded it much.

The truth was, as the days progressed, he’d unknowingly started to look forward to his coffee runs. And no, it wasn’t only because of the good coffee. The CEO couldn’t really explain it, nor did he want to admit it, but his interactions with you made him feel things he hadn’t felt in years.

Perhaps it was because you were so different from everyone else in his life. Come to think of it, aside from his friends, you were probably the only person he’d met who didn’t treat him with the utmost respect.

If he’d learned anything about you in the short time he’d known you, it was that you didn’t seem to give a shit about his CEO status.

Unlike your slimy-ass boss, who made it his mission to suck up to Seungcheol whenever he got the chance, you treated him like any other customer despite knowing his true identity. It was like he could be a completely different person with you, and it was sort of… exhilarating?

Then the cookie incident happened. The CEO had been so close to revealing his true identity when the older woman just wouldn’t stop taking advantage of the situation. And because he had been so agitated at that point, he had totally forgotten about the audience that had been able to follow the entire thing.

God knows what would have happened if he had revealed himself in front of that crowd. Seungcheol already imagined the headlines he’d be seeing the following day: ‘SEVENTEEN World’s Managing Director Choi Seungcheol Argues with Older Woman in Coffee Bar.’ While the other CEOs would have had a field day with that, he was pretty sure his PR team would have had his head for that.

So, whether it had been intentional or not, your interruption had been a very welcome one.

After that day, though, things started to look a little better for the two of you – mainly because the CEO had decided to take a different approach to your interactions. Again, he would never openly admit it, but despite the hostility between the two of you, you intrigued him, whether he liked it or not.

So, naturally, with Seungcheol being the nosy person he was, he’d made it his goal to find out more about you. But to be able to do that, he figured that he wasn’t going to get anywhere by constantly getting on your nerves. Hence, he’d toned down his teasing and provocative remarks in an attempt to show you a different side of him.

Up until today, it had been going quite well, much to his surprise. You hadn’t gotten past the usual small talk, but your daily encounters had definitely taken a turn for the better – who would have thought?

However, with how today had been going so far, the CEO had a feeling that even the smallest thing was enough to set him off and potentially ruin whatever you were working towards.

Oh, if only he’d known how right he was.

“Ah, shit,” you hissed out of nowhere, followed by a loud clanging sound that echoed through the small shop.

The CEO, who had been in the middle of writing a message to Haewon about his money situation, nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected noise. He was already on edge as a result of the bad news he’d received this morning. Add to that the fact that he almost hadn’t been able to pay for a simple coffee, and then now this near heart attack.

Seungcheol felt like he was about to reach his fucking breaking point.

“Can’t you fucking watch it?” he snapped, his focus shifting from his phone to you to find out what had caused the commotion.

The CEO realized that his response might have been a little over the top, but he hadn’t been able to control his mouth in the heat of the moment.

Your eyes were wide with shock as you seemed to process what you’d just heard.

“Pardon me?” you finally croaked while clutching onto your left hand.

“The noise,” Seungcheol grumbled. “Some people are trying to work here.”

You exhaled loudly and almost aggressively turned on the faucet before thrusting your hand underneath the water stream.

“Well, I’m sorry for spilling scorching hot milk over my hand,” you retorted, your facial expression slightly souring as soon as the water made contact with your hand.

“Not my fault you’re clumsy.”

“Listen here, you f-” You stopped yourself mid-sentence, your lips sealing shut as you ripped your eyes away from the CEO.

“Yeah? Go right ahead. What were you about to call me, hmm?” he mused, somewhat satisfied that he’d nearly caught you slipping.

“Nothing,” you spoke through gritted teeth, making it pretty clear that you weren’t planning on finishing your previous sentence. Not that Seungcheol would have expected any less.

He just hummed, leaning himself against the counter with his arms crossed.

“Well, if you’re not going to tell me, you might as well get on with my coffee though. I got other places I need to be,” he said when he noticed that you still hadn’t moved from your spot in front of the sink.

Although you chose not to respond to the CEO’s words, Seungcheol knew damn well that he’d successfully managed to piss you off once again. Your jaw was tense as you not so quietly turned off the faucet and started drying your hands, and he guessed you were desperately trying to hold in whatever you wanted to say by taking a couple of deep breaths.

He knew that he was being unnecessarily hostile today. Instead of keeping his emotions under control like he should have, he’d taken them out on you – not exactly his proudest moment. But then again, it wasn’t like this was the first outburst you’d witnessed from him.

Seungcheol knew that you were able to stand your ground whenever needed, so he wasn’t all that concerned about how his words might have come across. Besides, if he was being honest, he really couldn’t find it in himself to care. His day had already been ruined, and with everything piling up, he just didn’t have it in him to pretend like everything was fine and dandy.

He just wanted his coffee and get out of there so that he could come up with a plan to fix the mess he’d gotten himself involved in.

Fortunately, you seemed just as motivated to finish his coffee and get him out of the shop, practically pushing the cup into his hand by the time it was done while shooting daggers his way.

Yeah, he could definitely kiss that progress goodbye.

—

Later that night, Seungcheol was once again on his way to JamJam, hoping to grab a melon pan before spending the rest of the night with Kkuma. After all the shit that had gone down today, it was fair to say that the cute little dog was probably the only living being the CEO could tolerate at the moment – mainly because he didn’t have to hide anything from her.

The same thing couldn’t be said about his secretary, though.

Haewon, being the great secretary she was, had luckily managed to solve the CEO’s card issues with only a single call to the bank. Apparently, the fraud department of his bank had blocked his cards due to ‘suspicious activity’ on his account.

This so-called ‘suspicious activity’ had consisted of a series of larger cash withdrawals that had seemed too divergent from his usual withdrawal pattern, all of which had been sufficient cause for concern. What they didn’t know was that it had, in fact, been Seungcheol himself who had taken out the money… to pay the PI he’d hired to look into Wonwoo and his sister.

When Haewon had first brought the news to him, he’d wanted to curse himself for letting his nosy secretary handle this matter. The man had been so focused on trying to hide it from her that he’d forgotten about how the people from the bank might respond. He’d basically been forced to lie about the nature of the withdrawals.

The bank might have believed his bullshit excuse, but the CEO had a feeling that Haewon did not believe a single thing that had come out of his mouth. Thankfully, she hadn’t pressed him for more information, but he knew he had to be even more careful from now on.

As Seungcheol entered his favorite bakery, he greeted Mr. Hashimoto with a small nod and quickly made his way toward the back of the shop, his eyes already set on one particular breadbasket. He reached it within a few seconds, only to be disappointed when he noticed it was completely empty.

“Well, well, well. Look who it is.”

“Fucking hell. Not now,” he whispered to himself before reluctantly turning around.

There you were, a smug look on your face as you dangled a melon pan – the last one – in front of the CEO’s nose. “Let me guess. You’re looking for this?”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes at your obvious taunting. “No shit. How did you know?”

You shrugged. “Just an educated guess. It’s too bad, though, because this seems to be the last one,” you smirked as you dropped the snack into your shopping basket. “Maybe try to be a little faster next time.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, slightly distracted by the sight of your other hand wrapped up in bandages.

Now that Seungcheol had gotten his emotions somewhat under control, he did feel a little bad about the way he’d behaved towards you this morning.

You’d gotten yourself hurt, and instead of asking if you were okay like any decent human being would have, he’d reacted like a total prick. Of course, Seungcheol knew that the right thing to do in this case was to set his pride aside and apologize, but with the way you were trying to get under his skin right now, he felt the chances of that happening were slim to none.

You awkwardly cleared your throat as you hid your hand inside your sleeve, the action bringing Seungcheol back to the matter at hand… the last melon pan, which you’d managed to snatch yet again.

“J-Just see this as payback for today,” you sputtered before quickly regaining your confidence again. “Maybe if you’d been a little nicer this morning, this melon pan could have been yours. But since you decided to be a dick for whatever reason, I hope you have a nice night crying about not getting a melon pan,” you stated, that smug look making its appearance again.

“You really think I’d cry about something like that?”

“Oh, I know you will. Just like I knew that friendly act of yours was too good to be true. You’re nothing but an entitled asshole who doesn’t know how to treat people with respect,” you spat, speaking your mind now that you didn’t have to worry about your boss.

“You don’t know shit about me,” Seungcheol sneered, not liking the assumptions that were coming from your mouth.

“You’re right. I don’t. And I’m not interested either, so cut the fucking crap and don’t try to insert yourself into my business.”

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual.”

“Good.”

After a rather uncomfortable silence, you averted your eyes and adjusted the shopping basket you were carrying.

“Well, goodnight,” you mumbled before swiftly walking away, leaving behind an agitated and melon pan-less CEO.

—

Little did you know that your next encounter with the CEO would end in complete disaster.

It started out just like any other day, with you getting the coffee shop ready for opening and your boss breathing down your neck as soon as he’d stepped foot inside the shop. And not surprisingly, your lousy co-worker was nowhere to be found when your boss informed you that there’d be a shit ton of work for you to do.

Sanghoon showed up an hour past his official start time, and your superior didn’t seem to care at all, practically welcoming him with open arms and telling him to take it easy today. It took everything in you to bite your tongue when you heard those words coming from your boss. Because how was it that you were working your ass off and trying to keep the shop running while he got to take it fucking easy?

When was this lazy ass piece of shit finally going to get the karma he so much deserved?

It was a little past opening time – with you in the middle of refilling the syrups – when the door to the shop opened. Initially, you thought it was one of your regulars since a couple of them preferred to show up ahead of the morning rush, but when you got up from your crouched position to greet said person, you were met with a woman you’d never seen at the shop before.

“Hi! Can I help you?” you asked, a small smile on your face as you got ready to type in her order.

“Yeah, uhm, I hope so. I’m actually looking for my brother, Sanghoon?”

“Y-Your brother?” you stuttered, eyes widening at the new revelation.

In all your time working together with the slacker, he'd not once shared anything about his personal life. It wasn't like you'd asked him about it either because you weren't the slightest bit interested in anything involving him, but meeting someone related to him certainly piqued your curiosity.

“Yeah,” the woman muttered, a grimace taking over her face. “Is he here?”

“He’s in the back. I could call him for you?” you suggested.

The woman nodded. “That would be great, thanks.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back,” you announced before heading to the back to search for the man in question.

It didn't take you long to find him. He was sitting in his usual spot, headphones covering his ears and full focus on his phone.

“Hey. Your sister’s here. She wants to speak to you." No response. Annoyed at his lack of situational awareness, you snapped your fingers in his line of sight.

“What do you want?” he groaned as he reluctantly took his headphones off.

You crossed your arms. “It's not me who wants anything. Your sister is out front.”

“My sister? What the-” he grumbled before scrambling out of his seat, not even bothering to take his phone with him.

Now, if you knew anything about Sanghoon, it was that he was one with his phone. You'd literally never seen him go anywhere without it, so for him to leave the device behind without a care in the world meant that whatever his sister wanted from him had to be serious.

Thankfully your boss had stepped out for a bit because there was no way you were missing out on this.

You didn't know what you expected to walk in on when you returned to the front of the shop, but you certainly hadn't been prepared for what came out of the woman's mouth.

“Just tell me what you did with the emergency fund money!”

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you. What the hell are you talking about?”

The woman scoffed in disbelief at her brother’s response. “Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about. I worked my ass off for that money. It was supposed to be for emergencies only, not for you to gamble away whenever you feel like it.”

Oh shit. Did he have a gambling problem?

“Why do you immediately assume I took it? It could have been mom or dad,” Sanghoon argued back.

“Because I know you took it, so don’t lie to me. Everyone knows you have a problem with money, but I’m the only one calling you out on it.”

“You really wanna go there right now?”

“Yes, I do! Because all you do is fuck around and for some absurd reason, everyone worships the ground you walk on. But I’m not falling for that shit. The fact that you still have this job is mind-boggling to me,” the woman chuckled bitterly.

Damn. You didn’t know your co-worker’s sister at all, but you liked her already – anyone who had the balls to call Sanghoon out on his shit was a hero in your eyes.

“Yah! Would you stop embarrassing me at work?”

“Return the money and I just might,” his sister retorted with a smirk.

“I already told you that I didn’t take that damn money, so go find someone else to bother. I’m done here,” Sanghoon sneered before nearly stomping his way towards the back. “Oh,” he started as he stopped in his tracks to face his sister again. “don’t come to my work to accuse me of shit you know nothing about.” After that, he quickly disappeared without another word.

“Asshole,” the woman huffed with a shake of her head.

You took that as your cue to add a little comment of your own. “I’m glad to know someone in the family got blessed with brains,” you grinned.

She couldn’t help but giggle in response. “I know right? Is he giving you a hard time too?”

“Oh, you have no idea. It’s like I’m running this thing by myself most of the time,” you sighed while making your way back to the register.

“I’m so sorry about that,” the woman shook her head. “He’s always been like this and I’m afraid he’s beyond saving at this point.”

You let out a snort at that. “I figured as much. Luckily, I kind of learned to deal with it along the way.”

“I admire you for that,” she laughed.

“Thanks. I try,” you chuckled. “Can I get you anything though? A coffee? Juice? It’s my treat.”

She was quick to shake her head at your offer. “Oh no, you really don’t have to.”

“Please. I insist. The way you handled your brother just now was awesome. I’m so used to seeing everybody praise him for the work Ido, that I never got the chance to see someone put him in his place. So, tell me. What do you want?”

“Well, in that case, I’d like an iced latte,” she smiled.

“I’m on it!”

After that interesting start to your workday, you went right back to your chores while occasionally helping some customers. Your boss returned not long after Sanghoon’s sister left the shop, not missing a single opportunity to order you around as you made your way through your to-do list.

Then finally came the moment you’d been dreading since yesterday – Melon pan dude’s morning coffee run.

As he entered the shop, you noticed he was once again wearing his signature orange beanie, paired with a black mask and the brown coat you’d seen him wear before.

All hopes of the two of you reconciling and picking up where you left off had been crushed as a result of yesterday’s events, so to say you were happy to see him was an understatement. But just because you disliked the man and wanted nothing more than to stay as far away from him as possible, didn’t mean that you couldn’t be cordial and professional during work hours. After all, he was still a customer and your boss was watching, so really all you could do was try to prepare his coffee as quickly as possible and refrain from any unnecessary communication.

So, that’s exactly what you did.

“The usual?” you asked before he’d even reached the counter.

“Uh, yeah,” he nodded while reaching for his wallet.

“Coming right up,” you said after you’d finalized his card payment.

“Mr. Choi!” your boss’ voice sounded as he returned from the back, Sanghoon following closely behind. “Glad to see you back again. How’s the business going?”

“It’s fine,” the CEO responded with a hint of annoyance.

“You’re too modest! I heard you secured another great deal this week. You’re truly an inspiration for many, including myself,” your superior gushed.

It was pathetic really, how he tried to get into the CEO’s good graces when it was so obvious that he wanted nothing to do with him. Either your boss just didn’t care or he seriously lacked the ability to pick up on social cues.

You simply chose to block out their voices after that, putting your full attention on the coffee you were making because you did not want to hear your boss kissing the man’s ass so early in the morning.

It was only after you’d completed the order that you finally snapped out of your concentration bubble. Your boss seemed to have given up and was now talking to Sanghoon about lord knows what, while Melon pan dude was buried in his phone, probably doing something work-related.

After lightly clearing your throat, you placed the cup on the counter. “Your order is ready.”

The CEO’s head snapped up at your words, his phone momentarily forgotten as he walked up to grab his coffee.

“Thanks,” he muttered as he reached for a cup sleeve and a lid.

You nodded before turning away from him to resume with the dishes, not wanting to wait for him to exit the shop. Apparently, that was a big mistake.

“Y/N!” your boss suddenly hissed, startling you with the intensity of his tone. “What happened to wishing our customers a nice day?”

“I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t realize.” Okay, that might have been a lie, but he didn’t need to know that. You just hadn’t felt the need to say anything else to the CEO at that moment.

“This is exactly why I can’t trust you to do anything right. Tell me why I never have to tell Sanghoon how to behave towards customers?” Your jaw clenched at the mention of that useless potato, but you kept your mouth shut, not wanting to risk angering him even further. “I’ve said this again and again, but you should take some notes from him. Because unlike you, he’s been doing a wonderful job.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” The unexpected interruption caused both you and your boss to turn your heads toward the source of the voice.

It was Melon pan dude, who apparently, had not yet left the shop after grabbing his coffee. Instead, he was right at the counter, a death glare directed at the older man standing beside you, which you knew couldn’t mean anything good.

You’d seen how things had ended with Mrs. Park and you did not want a repetition of that, especially not when your boss was one of the main characters.

Speaking of whom, said man was quick to change his attitude, his tone switching from harsh to soft in only a matter of seconds as he addressed the CEO.

“S-Sir?”

The businessman rolled his eyes at that before speaking up. “The way you’re reprimanding her and telling her to be more like that lazy shit when I literally haven’t seen him do a single useful thing around here.”

“I-I can assure you that Sanghoon is a very capable barista,” your boss stuttered, thoroughly surprised by the CEO’s blunt criticism.

The other man chuckled in response. Hell, you had the urge to do the same at the sound of that ridiculous statement, but you didn’t want to add any more fuel to the fire.

“I think that might be the biggest joke I’ve heard this year. You do realize that this shop wouldn’t be running without her, right?” He pointed in your direction, letting his eyes rest on yours for a moment before shifting back to their original target. “I’ve unfortunately had to try his coffee once, and it was guaranteed the worst coffee I’ve ever tasted.”

“The worst coffee? Sanghoon? No, that can’t be,” your boss shook his head in disbelief. “Y/N must have made a mistake with your coffee.”

This fucking asshole.

“Are you really that much of a misogynist that you can’t admit your guy can’t make coffee to save his life?”

“Of course n-not! I just refuse to believe he would serve anything that awful in my shop.”

Oh, if only he knew how many coffee orders you’d had to salvage as a result of your co-worker’s non-existing barista skills.

“Well, I’ll be happy to burst that delusional bubble you reside in. Letting that guy,” he pointed to Sanghoon, who looked like he couldn’t give two shits about anything being said about him, “prepare coffee should be considered a crime.” Then, the businessman leaned forward as he moved his finger in your boss’ direction. “And so should mistreating your hardworking employees.”

“Mr. Choi! Where is all of this coming from?”

You nearly rolled your eyes at the act he was putting up in front of the CEO, who could clearly see past his bullshit.

“You know, I was going to leave it at the bad review I left a few days ago, just because I didn’t want to cause a scene. But the fact that you think I haven’t noticed your disgusting behavior is beyond me,” the other man scoffed.

“Bad review? That was y-you?” Your boss was at a loss for words at that unexpected confession. You just stood there in shock as you listened to the whole thing go down.

The shop hadn’t gotten any bad reviews in a few months, so you remembered that review all too well – your boss had made sure of that. Seeing as he was obsessed with maintaining the shop’s ‘perfect’ image on Naver, he’d made it a habit to check the reviews every single chance he got. So, when he’d seen that first thing in the morning, he completely flipped out.

No surprise, he’d taken his frustrations out on you, lecturing you about customer service and making coffee as if you hadn’t been doing it for years already. Funnily enough, it wasn’t even you that the reviewer had criticized, which made the outburst he’d directed at you that much more absurd.

Despite the shit your boss had given you for it, you’d silently enjoyed the jabs the reviewer had taken at the two men because someone had actually voiced the things you couldn’t say.

But now that you knew Melon pan dude had been behind the review, you just wished he’d kept the entire thing to himself.

It was one thing for your boss to discover one of his customers had insulted him, but for him to find out it had been the CEO he so admired was guaranteed to backfire on you. And now, with the CEO pretty much standing up for you, you could only assume that today was going to be rough. So much for telling the guy to stay out of your business.

“Yes, I wrote it,” the CEO smirked before quickly turning serious again. “And mark my words. If I see you mistreat your employee again, I won’t hesitate to use my real name next time. Now that would be bad for business.”

“Mr. Choi. You have it totally wrong,” your boss tried to defend himself, but it was pretty clear that any attempt was futile at this point. He’d royally screwed things up with his favorite VIP customer.

“Save it,” the CEO shook his head. “Fix that attitude first,” he frowned before swiftly turning around and leaving the shop without another word.

“What the hell did you do?” the man sneered as soon as the door had closed, leaving you to deal with the mess.

“I’m not quite sure what you mean, Sir,” you said, feeling genuinely confused.

Your boss scowled, turning his full body to face you this time. “Cut the shit, Y/N. What did you have to do to get him to say all that?”

What the hell was he on about?

“Sir, I don’t know what you want me to say. I didn’t do anything,” you emphasized, already preparing yourself for this conversation to go completely left.

“Bullshit. I’ve seen the way you interact with him. Even Sanghoon told me he’s noticed something going on between you two. So, tell me. What is it? Are you sleeping with him. Is that it?”

Your breathing hitched for a second, your mind processing the words that had just left your boss’ mouth. You? Sleeping with Mr. Rich and Famous? No. This was so not happening right now.

This was exactly the reason why you didn’t need Melon pan dude to fight your battles because look at where it got you.

“No, you’re wrong,” you shook your head, your voice quivering as you felt yourself start to shake from the adrenaline rushing through your body.

To know your good-for-nothing co-worker and your boss had been talking about you and the CEO was already a no-go in your eyes. But the fact your own boss would suggest such an awful thing made you feel more than a little disgusted.

The man was obviously in the wrong – there was no doubt about that – but you also needed to set some serious boundaries with the guy that had gotten you in this predicament in the first place. If he’d just let you do your work and kept his mouth shut, none of this would have happened.

“What do you think you’re doing?” your boss snapped when he noticed you start to loosen your apron.

“I need a break,” you grumbled, already having made up your mind about your next move. If you were quick, you might still be able to catch the dude before he took off.

“Like hell you are. You’re going back to work.”

“I need a break, Sir.”

“Take a break and do what? To see that little boyfriend of yours? Yeah, I don’t think so,” he snapped.

Fuck it. You weren’t about to put up with any more of these absurd accusations – you had at least that much self-worth. Who did he think he was to put you on the spot like that? And for what? All because he got his little ego hurt by the CEO?

Enough was enough.

Against your boss’ orders, you ripped off your apron and slammed it down onto the counter right in front of his eyes. It was probably the boldest move you’d ever made, but you didn’t care. You were livid and you needed to fix this mess.

“I swear to God, Y/N. If you even think of going out there, you’re fired, you hear me?” your boss called when he noticed you storming towards the exit.

The thing was, his threat went in one ear and out the other. You’d already committed to your decision when you’d ripped off your apron, so turning back was not an option for you. Besides, as if this shop would survive without you. You estimated the chance of your boss actually firing you during these busy times close to zero, so you were willing to take that risk for now.

“Y/N! Come back here! Y/N! I’m serious!” your boss screamed, his voice echoing through the entire shop.

But it was all in vain because you were already outside, the door shutting behind you and drowning out the sound of his angry screams.

To your surprise, you spotted the man you were hoping to find leaning against his fancy sports car, almost as if he’d known you would be coming to find him. At least good to know you hadn’t risked it all for nothing.

“Yah! Melon pan dude!” you called, stalking right up to him.

He chuckled as he pushed himself away from the driver’s door. “Melon pan dude? That’s what you’ve decided on?”

You chose to ignore that comment and cut straight to the point. “What the hell is your problem?”

“What my problem is?” he scoffed and took off his beanie to run a hand through his blond locks. “I did you a favor there, you know? The man is a fucking ass and you constantly let him walk over you like it’s nothing. That’s my fucking problem.”

“So what? You think that because you’re some big-shot CEO you can just force yourself into my life and mess with my job? What happened to staying out of my fucking business?” you bit back.

“This has nothing to do with me being a CEO and you know it. It’s about human decency and respect, which that piece of shit inside clearly doesn’t know anything about. If you can’t see why I had to say something, then you’re not the person I thought you were,” he snapped, a deep frown forming on his face.

“That’s just it! You don’t fucking know me, so why the hell do you even care? I’ve been doing fine without your help.”

“Fine?” He shook his head. “You call letting someone treat you like shit being fine? You’re not fooling me.”

“I don’t need you to tell me how I should feel, Mr. Know-It-All. Why can’t you get that through that big brain of yours?”

“Alright, you wanna be treated like crap? Be my guest,” he sneered, his eyes practically burning holes into your own. “But don’t be surprised when the whole thing backfires on you.”

“Just stay out of my business,” you warned, your stare just as intense as his. “That clear enough for you?”

“Don’t worry. I got the message,” he grumbled with a roll of his eyes before ripping his car door open. “Stubborn woman,” he breathed, but it was loud enough for you to hear.

Who the hell was he calling stubborn? He was the one inserting himself in situations that didn’t concern him, so if anyone was stubborn, it was him. You weren’t about to tell him that, though, not if you wanted to prevent the situation from further escalating. Besides, you’d already spent more than enough time arguing with the man, so it was about time you ended it before it would start attracting curious passersby.

Instead, you chose to stay silent as he got inside the fancy vehicle.

“Oh.” You prevented his door from closing by quickly placing your hand on the door panel, which earned you a surprised look in return. “You better find a different coffee shop.”

With that, you took your leave and made your way back towards the shop, where there would no doubt be more problems awaiting you.

Turned out your boss was actually serious about firing you. After you returned from your little squabble with Melon pan dude, you walked straight into your worst nightmare.

With a few customers in the shop, your boss gave you a death glare that had you shaking in your boots, and then, not so subtly, motioned for you to meet him in the back. You knew that there was no way of getting out of this, but that didn’t make you any less nervous.

You were right to be so, though, because all hell broke loose the second you’d shut the door behind you.

First, he yelled at you for disobeying him, after which he had the audacity to throw some more ridiculous accusations about you and the CEO your way. And then before you knew it, the man fired you without even letting you get so much as a word in. He made you turn in all your things and practically escorted you out the back of the shop as soon as you’d packed up, all within the span of five minutes.

The whole thing was so surreal that it took a few minutes of you standing outside to process the fact that you were now officially out of a job. You’d never been fired before, so the gravity of the whole situation really hit you when you realized you had no plan B to fall back on.

How the hell were you going to find something else on such short notice? Digging into your hard-earned savings to pay your rent was not something you had ever planned on doing, but it certainly seemed like a possibility now that you lost your only source of income. And rightfully so, that thought made you anxious.

You walked home with tears streaming down your face that morning. By the time the first sob escaped from your lips, you’d already forced yourself to move out of the shop’s vicinity – you didn’t want to risk your now ex-boss seeing you so vulnerable. And yes, you knew that it was pathetic to cry over losing a job where you weren’t even happy, but you couldn’t help it. It was like you’d turned on the faucet without a way to turn it off.

There were definitely a bunch of curious stares and disapproving looks thrown your way as you tried to navigate through Seoul with your blurred vision. If it had been any other day, you’d have hated the attention, but in your state, you just had too much going through your head to focus on something so frivolous.

One overly concerned lady even came up to you, asking if everything was alright and if there was anything she could do for you. The gesture was sweet, but the last thing you wanted to do in that moment was explain your shitty situation to a complete stranger. So, instead of sharing your troubles with her, you tried to assure her that it was nothing but a bad day and that you’d be fine in no time. It actually took quite some convincing to shake her off, but after telling her multiple times that there really was nothing to worry about, she finally let you go.

Following that brief interaction, you decided to stop by JamJam to get yourself a plethora of consolidation snacks, including a bunch of melon pan that could last you a couple of days.

Mr. Hashimoto immediately took note of the state you were in as soon as you stepped inside the shop, greeting him with bloodshot eyes and wet cheeks. Thankfully, he wasn’t one to pry and left you to it for the most part, which you very much appreciated. That was just the type of man he was, way too sweet for his own good.

In all your time of knowing Mr. Hashimoto, you didn’t think there had ever been a day he and his delicious treats hadn’t managed to cheer you up, which is probably why you visited the shop as much as you did.

Fortunately, that morning was no different – he gave you a generous discount and a few extra pastries that he knew you loved and sent you on your way with a few encouraging words and two bags full of heavenly goodies.

For the next few days that followed, you worked your way through those two bags without a care in the world. You alternated between crying your eyes out and stuffing your face with the sugary sweets while watching every true crime documentary you could find.

Only when there was nothing left for you to munch on or cry about, you decided that you’d had spent enough time wallowing in self-pity and forced yourself to crawl out of the blanket fort you had lived in for the past three days.

Being out of commission for a couple of days also meant that you hadn’t touched your phone since you’d entered your apartment and settled down in your blanket fort. But now that you had freshened up and sat down at your small dinner table with a fresh cup of coffee, your laptop, and your phone fully charged, you had to deal with the many missed calls and texts, most of them from your mom.

It wasn’t uncommon for her and your dad to check up on you at least once or twice a week. You knew there were plenty of people who would be ecstatic to receive all that attention from their parents, but not you.

All throughout your childhood and teenage years, your parents had felt the obsessive need to control every aspect of your life. It ranged from telling you how to style your hair and how to dress, to who you could or could not interact with.

It was so bad that the few friends that you did have eventually broke off all contact with you. You couldn’t blame them – because who wanted to hang out with a girl whose parents were so controlling and scary all the time?

But still, that didn’t make you feel any less lonely throughout the years.

Unfortunately, it didn’t stop there though. No. They even went as far as to sign you up for law school without so much as discussing it with you, basically forcing their preferred career path down your throat without a single regard for your wants and needs.

That’s really when you had enough. You didn’t want to go to some stupid law school, and you definitely didn’t want to follow in your dad’s footsteps and become a litigation lawyer. You wanted to be able to make your own decisions and get a taste of that adult life you’d been dreaming about for so long.

That’s why, after many many arguments and your parents threatening to cut you off, you finally made the decision to leave the place you’d called home for as long as you could remember.

When you first moved to Seoul, you didn’t have much aside from some money you had saved up. Your parents had lived up to their words and completely stopped giving you money, but you weren’t going to let that stop you from following your dreams of being independent.

For years, you had lived comfortably, never having to worry about being able to afford food, clothes, presents, you name it – one of the perks with your dad being a top lawyer and all. But with that luxury had come a ton of rules and restrictions that you wouldn’t even want to wish upon your worst enemy.

If finally being free meant that you actually had to work for your money for once, and struggle just like any other normal person, you were happy to do it. Besides, you never were about that fancy lifestyle anyway. A simple life where you could do whatever you wanted was all you needed.

So, you took on a couple of restaurant jobs to get yourself settled in, and as a result, you discovered your true passion – coffee making. You’d always been an avid coffee drinker and very much enjoyed the whole brewing process, but making a career out of it had never really crossed your mind. That was until you saw just how beautiful and satisfying the art of coffee making could be.

Seeing your barista co-workers create such pretty and tasty creations made you eager to try it out yourself, which eventually inspired you to enroll in a barista course and get your diploma.

Eventually, slowly but surely, after hours and hours of practicing your brewing and latte art skills, you became a true pro at your job.

It had taken a couple of years of you proving that you could make it out there without any help from your parents, but here you were, doing just fine without them. You were pretty sure they thought you’d come crawling back within no time and beg them to send you to that damn law school, but boy had they been wrong. When they understood that you were, in fact, not planning on coming back home, they gradually came around and dropped the whole “I want you to follow in your father’s footsteps” agenda.

At least, that’s what they made it seem like.

Initially, you’d been happy about the regular calls with your parents, mainly because you thought that they were genuinely happy for you and had finally accepted the barista path you’d chosen. But as the weeks passed, you realized that was far from the truth. Your parents might have thought they were being slick with their ‘positive’ approach, but it didn’t take you long to see right through it.

The constant calls were simply a means to keep an eye on you, making sure that you weren’t making a fool out of yourself in their absence while at the same time jumping at every opportunity to criticize your barista work.

It was for that exact reason you decided it was best not to tell your parents about the whole getting fired thing. Because although your friends were in the loop about your work situation, your parents definitely weren’t – and you liked keeping it that way. As far as they knew, you had an amazing job with a stable income and a boss who valued your work. Knowing how much they disapproved of your big move and career choice, this news would simply give them a reason to tell you a big fat “I told you so,” and you really didn’t want to hear any of that.

It was already bad enough that you’d ended up in this situation in the first place, so any form of negativity from your parents on top of that was something you didn’t think you could handle right now.

What you did need was a new job… fast. Because if you had to spend another week cooped up in your apartment feeling sorry for yourself, you would no doubt lose it.

Unfortunately, that task proved to be harder than you thought. While there were many barista opportunities in a big city such as Seoul, none of them particularly caught your attention.

The majority of the coffee shops out there only offered part-time positions, which you had no choice but to cross off your list. With only two or three days of work, you’d be forced to take on another job if you wanted to be able to afford rent, andthat was definitely out of the question.

As for the full-time positions you could find, they would all put you in a position that was way less favorable than you were currently in – living from paycheck to paycheck was not something you ever wanted to go back to. But then again, it wasn’t like you were in any position to be picky either.

“Ugh, what am I gonna do?” you groaned, slamming your laptop shut before burying your face into your hands in frustration.

If someone had told you two weeks ago that you’d be out of a job and considering a downgrade in salary, you probably would have declared them insane. But low and behold, that was the reality you were currently living, and it made you angrier than you would have expected.

You were angry at your asshole ex-boss for treating you like crap and always thinking the worst of you. You were angry at your lousy excuse of a co-worker, Sanghoon, for feeding your ex-boss a bunch of lies about you behind your back and basically throwing you under the bus despite all the shit you’d done to save his ass. Hell, you were even angry at yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you and allowing it to end the way it did. But absolutely nothing beat the anger you felt towards the man who had been at the center of it all – Melon pan dude.

Everything had been going just fine until that entitled prick showed up and decided to ruin your life. Perhaps ‘just fine’ wasn’t the best way to describe it, but at least you had been able to get by all that time without any major issues.

Then he came along and changed everything, whether he intended to or not.

Honestly, the more you thought about it, the more you felt like you should have known that he would be trouble the moment he set foot inside the shop.

Somewhere deep inside, you probably already knew he would be trouble, especially given the circumstances of your first meeting. Oh, and who could forget about the orange juice incident? Or the encounter with Mrs. Park? Not to mention the numerous provocations he had thrown your way over the past week and a half.

But even despite all of that, you never could have known that the CEO would indirectly become the reason for your getting fired.

Of course, you weren’t completely innocent either. You could have taken the time to think things through and approached the situation calmly, but instead, you let your emotions get the better of you and chose to confront him in the middle of your shift with your superior right there.

Then again, if only the dude hadn’t opened his big mouth, your ex-boss wouldn’t have said those awful things about you and him in the first place. And as a result of that, you wouldn’t have gone outside to look for him, and your boss wouldn’t have had to threaten you with your job – in other words, all of this could have been prevented if he had just stayed away from Oh My! Coffee like he said he would.

The man just had a talent for worming his way into people’s business and getting on their nerves. How he got away with it every single time was beyond you.

Your guess was that being managing CEO of a multi-billion-dollar business had something to do with that. Being in that position also meant that he would never have to worry about getting fired or running out of savings, and it just wasn’t fair. While you were out here being miserable, he was out there living his life while driving around in his fancy sports car, probably not even aware of the disaster he’d caused with his meddling.

Just what was so special about him? You didn’t get it.

Without even realizing it you’d already opened up your laptop once again, this time for a completely different purpose. You’d vowed to never research the man and become one of those people, but it was like your fingers had a mind of their own.

You needed to know what he was like outside of your interactions with him, so where better to look than the Internet?

Job ads long forgotten, you typed in the CEO’s name and clicked on one of the first articles that popped up. It was one of him closing a business deal with some big international corporation that would make him and the other CEOs of SEVENTEEN World even richer than they already were. Good for them and all, but it wasn’t exactly the type of content you were looking for.

If you wanted the gossip and details about his social life, you needed to turn to the blogs instead. That’s how you eventually ended up on Dispatch’s website, scouring their many articles about the man for anything that seemed interesting enough.

It didn’t take long for you to find something useful. You discovered that he had a younger sister who was a successful lawyer at a high-end law firm. There wasn’t really a lot of information aside from some details about his sister and a few pictures of the two of them together, so you were about to close it and move on to something else.

That was until you stumbled on another article that was linked to the one you were reading. The post was a little older – as in three years older – and the title read ‘Protective or Controlling? What to make of SEVENTEEN World’s CEO Choi Seungcheol?’.

“Why doesn’t this surprise me?” you snorted as you skimmed through the article with a newfound curiosity.

If you had to believe everything that was being said, he was extremely protective of her. Or, as others have described, perhaps a little controlling at times. The article mentioned a couple of instances, but the one that stood out most was the SEVENTEEN World anniversary party, where apparently, several reporters had noticed the CEO clinging to his sister’s side for pretty much the entirety of the evening.

Dispatch had even included a video with a little snippet of said event, where you could clearly see what the article had described in detail.

“Poor woman,” you mumbled, grimacing as you watched how the man shamelessly pulled his sister away from the small group of men she had been happily conversing with.

It was quite obvious from her facial expressions that she was anything but happy with her brother’s actions, but she just went along with it for the public’s sake, no doubt.

Seeing all of that reminded you a little bit of you and your parents back when you were still in high school. They had been less obvious than the CEO in their approach, but they were always very clear about keeping you away from “people not worth your time” or whatever the hell that meant.

So naturally, you felt bad seeing someone as successful as her having to deal with something – or rather someone – like that. But who knows? Perhaps he was, in fact, doing it to protect her for reasons not mentioned in the article. You could only infer so much from a couple of described instances and a 20-second-long clip without any additional context regarding their history.

The only thing you did know for sure after doing your little research was that his love for sticking his nose in people’s business was not just restricted to you.

By the time you finally ripped your eyes away from your laptop to check the time, a good hour and a half had passed since you started looking into Melon pan dude. You had been so caught up in trying to dig up information about the guy that you’d completely lost sight of your initial goal – finding a job that would pay the bills.

See? Even when he wasn’t around, he still had the ability to mess with your mind… and you hated it.

“Get your shit together, Y/N,” you whispered to yourself as you sat back down behind your laptop after a short break, now with a new cup of coffee to motivate yourself for another hour or two.

But that coffee only lasted you so long, and so did your motivation.

Just thirty minutes into your search you had already reached the point where you wanted to shut your laptop and call it a day. You almost did actually, already in the process of closing all your tabs when the Dispatch tab you’d forgotten to get rid of before distracted you again.

Only this time, it wasn’t an article that caught your attention but a job ad that had popped up on the right side of the screen. It was a barista opportunity, which, ironically enough, came from Cat Café SEVENTEEN, one of SEVENTEEN World’s large enterprises.

For just a moment after clicking the ad, you hesitated. Not because you hated the idea of working at a cat café, but because of its association with Melon pan dude, whom you wanted to avoid at all costs. That thought alone was enough not to want to entertain the idea in the first place. But then you made the mistake of glimpsing at the proposed salary, which threw all those thoughts right out the window.

The pay was at least a twenty percent upgrade from your salary at Oh My! Coffee for only five days a week, which was crazy, considering you used to work six days a week plus unpaid overtime. On top of that, you would be working evenings for the majority of your shifts, which meant extra time to sleep and worry-free mornings. Considering the fact that you were not a morning person, this arrangement would be more than fine with you.

And then there was, of course, the fact that it was a freaking cat café. You hadn’t yet had the chance to visit their Seoul location – or any location for that matter – but from what you’d read on the official website, customers were highly encouraged to play and cuddle with the cats during their visits. You were a big animal lover, with cats and dogs tying at the top of your list, so it only made the place seem that much more appealing.

The obvious connection between the café and Melon pan dude did briefly cross your mind again as you read through the vacancy, but those worries were quick to dissipate when you stumbled upon a list of the twenty cats currently residing at the café.

Who in their right mind could say no to those cute little faces? You definitely couldn’t, nor did you want to pass up on such a great opportunity.

That’s why you decided to send in your application before that little voice in the back of your mind could convince you to back out.

In all honesty, you were prepared for the worst – especially seeing as bad luck just seemed to follow you wherever you went – which is why you were all the more shocked when you got an email notification not even three hours later. You’d been in the middle of drinking yet another cup of coffee, which you nearly spit out at the sight of the sender and subject header.

“No fucking way,” you breathed, a small smile forming on your lips as you carefully read through the email. Maybe there was still a little bit of luck left in you after all.

“Y/N, right?”

“Yes. Thank you for considering me, Mr. Choi,” you greeted the man you’d come to know as the CEO of Cat Café SEVENTEEN – Choi Hansol.

You would expect him to be super busy, having to manage all those cafes in different locations and all. But here he was, meeting you for your interview as if he didn’t have anything better to do. You didn’t know whether to be honored or anxious.

“No need to be so formal,” he chuckled before sitting down a comfortable-looking chair. “Just Vernon is fine. Please. Take a seat.”

“Right. Thank you,” you mumbled and sat down in the other available chair.

Now that you were sitting right across from the man, you suddenly felt the nerves creep into your body. The way he had made it sound on paper was everything you could have dreamed of – almost too good to be true even. But you truly hoped that wasn’t all it was because if you had to relive another Oh My! Coffee experience, you were going to punch a wall.

“Your resume is impressive. Barista certificates, work experience, and people skills. We’ve been looking for another experienced barista for quite some time now,” he nodded before crossing his arms in front of his chest. “If you don’t mind me asking, is there a specific reason you left your previous job?”

“Oh, uh, I…” Shit. Now what? Telling your prospective boss that you got fired from your previous job would certainly not help you leave a good first impression. However, lying was also not how you wanted to go about it. “Well, it’s a little complicated, I guess,” was all you could come up with in your panic.

Way to fuck it up, Y/N.

“Complicated, huh?” the CEO mused, his brows furrowing as he studied the documents in front of him.

Oh no. Was this going to be the moment he tells you it isn’t going to work out after all?

“Let me guess? You got fired?”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets at his speculation. “Yes,” you whispered before quickly averting your eyes in embarrassment. This interview was so not going how you wanted it to go.

“I see. Your resume tells me you worked at Oh My! Coffee, which means that Park Wonshik must have been your boss, correct?” He waited for your confirmation, which you gave by slowly nodding your head while wondering where he was going with this. “Well, I don’t know him personally, but I’ve heard a couple of things about the man. Word travels around fast in my world and he’s known to have a rather… how should I say this? Unorthodox way of handling things, I guess is the right way to put it?” he chuckled.

“You could say that,” you muttered, feeling a surge of anger spread through your body at the thought of that jackass. Watch him ruin your chances of getting another job without even having to lift a goddamn finger.

The sound of paper rustling snapped you out of your little trance. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m not going to hold this against you,” he started while folding the documents he’d been looking at just a few moments ago. “We’ve all had to deal with shitty bosses at some point, so no need to look so scared,” he grinned, which took you by surprise.

“I’m willing to give everyone a chance if I think they’re a fit. I’d like to think of myself as a pretty laid-back boss, so as long as you work hard, we won’t have any problems.”

Well, that was definitely not what you expected to come out of his mouth. Perhaps you’d been too quick to jump to conclusions.

After having spent less than ten minutes in his presence, you could already tell that the CEO sitting in front of you was the complete opposite of the CEO who had made your life hell for the past two weeks.

For one, he did not give off ‘entitled prick’ vibes. On the contrary, he seemed like one of the most chill guys you’d ever met. If you hadn’t done your research and looked him up before meeting him, there was no way you would have believed someone like him to be one of the country’s most successful businessmen. The fact that he was conducting your interview in jeans and a simple white t-shirt paired with a jean jacket told you as much. You were all for it, though. A suit would have made the whole thing much more formal, and seeing as you were nervous enough as it was, the casual outfit certainly helped relieve some of the tension.

You just needed to make sure he liked you enough to hire you.

“Alright!” The CEO clapped his hands. “Now that we have that out of the way, I have a very important question to ask you,” he said, suddenly turning very serious as he slightly leaned himself forward.

“How do you feel about cats?”

You couldn’t help but release the breath you’d unknowingly been holding, suddenly feeling a lot more relaxed. “Oh, I love cats! Lived with three of them back home, so I’m very comfortable around them,” you smiled brightly.

The man across from you nodded, seemingly satisfied with your response. “Good, I just wanted to be sure. We’re a cat café after all, so you’ll be stuck with them every shift,” he laughed, which you returned with laughter of your own.

“Oh, please. I hardly see that as a punishment. If I’m being honest, the cats were actually the reason I was so excited to come here in the first place,” you confessed, hoping that it didn’t make you sound like a complete suck-up. It was true though. Their presence would no doubt make your workdays much more bearable.

“Is that so? Well, in that case, would you like to meet them?”

You were already nodding before he’d even finished his sentence. “I’d love that, Sir.”

“Didn’t I tell you to drop the formalities?” he grinned while getting up from his chair.

“Right, sorry,” you mumbled, not used to being so informal with a higher-up.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shook his head, motioning you to get up. “You coming or what?”

You nearly jumped out of your chair at his question, already thrilled at the thought of getting to meet every single one of those adorable kitties.

“Yes, right behind you!”

He ended up guiding you out of his office and through part of the café before opening a door that led to a large, cozy-looking room.

The giant space was filled with cat trees and houses of various sizes, fancy cat beds, and an abundance of cat toys, some of which you didn’t even know existed. Most of the walls were decorated with jumping platforms, tiny ladders, and cute hammocks suitable for cats, which gave it a little bit of a playground vibe.

It was like you’d stepped right into cat paradise, and you loved everything about it. You literally couldn’t stop admiring while the CEO provided you with more information.

“This is the room the cats reside in when the café is closed. Since we open at ten, we already moved them into the café, but I just wanted to give you a better picture of how we do things around here.”

“Is there anyone who checks up on the cats during the night?” you asked, noticing a few cameras mounted to the ceiling.

“Yes, we have a special caretaker who checks up on them twice a night. He usually helps me move the cats from one room to the next after closing and makes sure they get the right food and treatments. We have a vet on call in case of emergencies as well. Oh, and she also does their monthly check-ups.”

“Wow, that sounds like a great system,” you replied, finally managing to put your full focus on the CEO once again.

“We kinda have to with so many cats,” he snickered before motioning you to follow him again. “Without this system, we wouldn’t be able to do even a quarter of the things we’re doing.”

You quickly followed behind him, trying your best to store all the information he was telling you while trying not to trip over your own feet.

He finally stopped in front of another door, this time a larger and prettier one that was made entirely out of glass. Now that you got a good look at it, you observed that the walls in this part of the café were made of glass as well.

Realizing that you were admiring the glass construction, the CEO turned to face you. “Pretty isn’t it? During the designing phase, I decided to section off a small part of the café and turn it into a cat-free zone. With a lot of people coming in for their to-go orders, we just didn’t want to put unnecessary stress on the cats. Also, there are several regulars who love our drinks and sweets but don’t want to be surrounded by cats all the time, so it works out perfectly,” he explained.

“That’s actually… genius. You’re so smart,” you mumbled, which earned another laugh from the CEO.

“I know right? I have my moments.”

“Right. Of course you do,” you breathed, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks.

Of course he was smart. How else would he have become so successful? Obviously not by making a bunch of impulsive decisions.

“You ready?” he looked at you expectantly.

“Very.”

That was all the confirmation he needed before he opened the big glass doors. Your eyes went wide at the sight that greeted you.

This part of the café was huge, even bigger than the cat room you’d been in before. Aside from the cat trees and wall-climbing constructions that could also be found in the other room, this room had a completely different vibe.

First, you noticed that there were numerous small benches placed against the walls throughout the entire room, with another few dozen small tables located in the center to utilize the space to its full capacity. Then your eyes fell on a big open area on the left side of the room, which was decorated with a variety of bean bags and two large boxes with plenty of cat toys to choose from.

It was another cat paradise. That was for sure.

You were – again – so distracted by the layout of the room that you hadn’t even noticed the ball of fur approaching you. “Oh! Hi there, cutie. Who might you be?” you cooed at the cat that was now rubbing against your legs.

“That’s Aeng-Du. She’s a curious one. Feel free to pick her up. She loves attention and cuddles.”

You didn’t need any more encouragement after that and quickly leaned down to scoop the fluffy cat into your arms. It was the best feeling ever and you wished it didn’t have to come to an end. The last time you held a cat was years ago, so you’d almost forgotten what it felt like to cuddle one – heavenly, that was the only way to describe it.

Not long after that, other cats started showing up. There was Suk, whom you were told was a very clingy baby who needed lots of cuddles. There were Kyu and Hae, two siblings who were found in a dumpster and now living their best lives at the cat café. There was Bin, who was described as the clumsy one of the group, always tripping over his own paws. And there were many more, but there simply wasn’t enough time to pet them all.

There was, however, one cat that seemed reluctant to approach you, never straying too far from the CEO but at the same time keeping an eye on you at all times.

“Who’s that?” You pointed to the cat hiding behind the CEO’s legs.

“This? This is Jang-Mi, one of our newest additions. She’s been getting along with the other cats just fine, but she’s still a little scared when it comes to meeting new people. She just needs some time to warm up,” he said and leaned down to scratch her cute little forehead.

“Are you familiar with our concept?”

“I am!” you nodded, smiling down at a now fast-asleep Suk in your arms. “I think it’s wonderful that you’re giving these cats a chance to find a new home like this. They’re adorable.”

You thought the concept of a café and adoption center in one was simply ingenious. While the cats were given the chance to find their forever homes like this, customers were able to find a furry friend they could shower with love and affection. And the relaxing atmosphere certainly helped them get closer in a more natural setting. It was a win-win situation.

“Who knows? You might end up adopting one yourself at some point. They are very hard to resist,” he smirked.

“I wish,” you sighed.

Although the thought of adopting a cat was very tempting, your small apartment was not at all suitable for a cat. Besides, your landlord didn’t allow pets, so that was definitely out of the question… for now, at least.

“Ah, before I forget, there’s one final test.”

“Final test?” you questioned, gently placing Suk inside one of the cat beds near the closest wall.

“Yes. You don’t think I’d let you prepare coffee for my customers without having tasted it, right?”

“Oh,” you breathed, relieved that it wasn’t anything impossible. “Of course, Si- Vernon,” you quickly corrected yourself when you noticed him giving you a look. It was going to take a while to get used to the first-name basis thing.

Reluctantly, you left the kitties behind to do what you actually came here to do – making coffee.

Vernon introduced you to Jay and Areum, two very bubbly staff members who took care of most of the serving and assisted with the making of non-caffeinated drinks during the busy hours.

You also met Jia, the barista responsible for the morning shift, who was kind enough to tell you all you needed to know. It was so refreshing to see that, unlike Sanghoon, all of them actually knew what they were doing and contributed something rather than sitting on their asses all day.

If you did end up getting the job by some miracle, you at least wouldn’t be doing all the work by yourself like you’d been doing for over two years.

After that short information session, Vernon instructed you to make a few of the most popular coffee drinks on the menu for him to taste: an iced Americano, a flat white, a vanilla latte, an espresso, and a cappuccino.

The task sounded easy enough. If anything, you’d probably be able to do all of those with your eyes closed, latte art included. But seeing as you didn’t want to come off as cocky when you hadn’t even gotten the job yet, you chose to keep that particular comment to yourself and quickly got to work with the knowledge Jia had bestowed upon you.

Since all the coffee machines were very high-end – and much better than the ones that were available at Oh My! Coffee – it took you even less time than it normally would have taken you to finish your task. Jia was there with you the entire time, watching carefully as you did your thing, and only commented here and there when you needed help finding a specific tool or syrup.

“Wow. I think that was the fastest I’ve ever seen anyone complete five orders,” Jia gawked after you’d placed the final order on your tray.

“Oh, really?” you asked, surprised, and turned your head just in time to see her nodding.

“Yes,” she chuckled. “I don’t even think I’d be able to do that, and I’ve been working here for a few years now.”

“Well, thanks, I guess?” you grinned, happy to receive a compliment from a fellow barista. It made you feel extra good about the coffees you made, so you were all too eager to pick up the tray and take it to Vernon, who was sitting at one of the smaller tables.

“Finished already?” he asked, briefly glancing at his watch when you announced your presence. “I have to say I’m usually more of a quality over quantity kind of person, but I’m pretty impressed. The latte art is fantastic, very fitting,” he nodded as he admired the cute cats you’d shaped on three of the coffees.

“Thank you. I hope they are to your liking,” you said, crossing your fingers behind your back as he picked up the glass filled with iced Americano first.

Watching him try your coffee creations was probably one of the most nerve-wracking things you’d experienced in a long time. It wasn’t like you weren’t confident in your skills – because you were – but the CEO’s face remained so stoic for the entirety of it that it made you wonder if you’d done something wrong.

What if the coffee was too strong? Or what if the foam wasn’t to his liking? Those were the types of questions that kept going through your mind as you waited for his verdict.

“So, the thing is,” he started after having tried all of the five drinks. “I actually don’t enjoy drinking coffee.”

Wait, what?

How the hell was he supposed to judge your brewing skills if he didn’t even like the taste of coffee? The man literally ran a café where the majority of the clientele consisted of coffee drinkers for god’s sake.

“I see,” you frowned, not knowing whether to cry or laugh at the information he had just shared with you.

Sensing your confusion, Vernon motioned for you to sit down across from him.

“I usually get one of my friends to try the coffee, but no one was available today,” he explained when you’d sat down. Ah. That made a little more sense, even though it did nothing to calm your raging nerves. “And judging by your facial expression, I should probably just get straight to the point, huh?”

“Yes, please,” you blurted without another thought, just wanting to get rid of this uncertainty you were feeling.

“Alright, alright,” he laughed, seemingly amused with your reaction. “What I’m saying is that your coffee is good, better than good even. Hell, I might even start drinking coffee if it’s always going to be like this,” he stated.

Your mouth dropped open in disbelief at the praise. “Wow, I- Are you serious?” you stammered, feeling at a complete loss of words.

A non-coffee drinker telling you your coffee was so good that it could potentially convert him was the ultimate compliment in your eyes.

“Do you see me as someone who would joke about such things?”

“Would you hate me if I said yes?”

“I like you,” he smirked before taking another sip of the cappuccino you’d prepared.

“So, does that mean you’re hiring me or…?”

He placed the coffee cup he was holding back onto the tray. “That depends on what your answer to my next question is going to be.”

“Okay?” you gulped nervously, waiting for him to speak.

The CEO leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms as a grin slowly made its way onto his face.

“Can you start tomorrow?”

“Vernon, everything good?” Seungcheol asked as soon as he picked up his friend’s call.

It was very much unlike Vernon to call him – or anyone for that matter – with the exception of emergencies. He was more of a texter, and any work-related calls were usually handled by his personal secretary, Cho Byungho, so for him to call Seungcheol on a random weeknight was somewhat worrisome.

“Yeah, Hyung. Everything is fine, no worries,” Vernon assured his friend. “The reason I’m calling you is to tell you that you need to come to the café for some coffee.”

Well, thatwas not what the CEO expected to come out of his mouth. He’d been prepared for something bad, not his friend inviting him for a goddamn coffee.

“You called to tell me that? I stepped out of an important meeting with Jeonghan to take your call. What the hell happened to your no-call policy?”

“Yeah, about that…” Vernon cleared his throat. “I had to make an exception for this. Listen, you’re still looking for a new coffee place, right? Well, I just so happened to have found a new barista. And you also know how I’m not a fan of coffee, right? I had a few sips and let me tell you my mind was blown, that’s how good it was. She’s like a freaking coffee guru.”

The man wasn’t wrong. Seungcheol was indeed still looking for a new coffee place.

Ever since your argument the other day, he hadn’t been back at Oh My! Coffee and he intended to keep it that way. You had finally gotten what you wanted. Not that the feeling wasn’t mutual. Just the thought of having to face you again after that was enough to make his blood boil.

How could someone as mouthy as you be so stubborn to let that pathetic excuse of a boss belittle you on a daily basis? Seungcheol just didn’t get it. And he didn’t want to stick around for it either, regardless of how good the coffee was. But unfortunately, that decision also meant that he was back to square one, trying to find a coffee bar that matched the quality of your coffee.

“How good can it be? Last time you said you found someone good I ended up throwing that shit away,” Seungcheol scoffed, recalling the bitter coffee one of Vernon’s previous baristas had prepared for him.

“I’m telling you, it’s different this time. She just started, but customers are loving it already. I have no doubt you will love it too.”

The coffee at the café had never been up to the CEO’s standards, so he had a hard time believing that it would actually be different this time. And the fact that the cat café owner wasn’t exactly the best judge when it came to coffee didn’t help his case either.

“I don’t have time for this shit, Vernon,” Seungcheol sighed, already feeling like he’d wasted enough time with this pointless conversation.

“Come on, Hyung!” the other man whined. “Just stop by after you’re done with your meeting. And take Jeonghan Hyung with you too. It’s been ages since you both visited the café.”

“Ugh, fine,” he groaned, praying that the other CEO would let him get back to his meeting if he just agreed to it. “But you’re paying.”

“As if I would ever let you pay. See you later!” was the last thing Vernon said before abruptly ending the call.

“This guy,” Seungcheol mumbled with a shake of his head before returning to the conference room.

About two and a half hours later, the two CEOs found themselves in Seungcheol’s car, driving towards Cat Café SEVENTEEN. Their meeting had dragged on for far too long – way longer than the one and a half they had initially scheduled – so both men were glad to be done with it. Although Seungcheol had been reluctant to pay a visit to the café not too long ago, the thought of getting a dose of caffeine after that tiresome ordeal sounded like music to his ears.

“So, what exactly did Vernon tell you about this new barista?” Jeonghan asked from the passenger seat.

“Nothing aside from the fact that her coffee is good,” Seungcheol shrugged.

The fashion CEO couldn’t help but snort at that. “Vernon said her coffee was good? The man doesn’t even like coffee.”

“Tell me about it. That’s why I’m not getting my hopes up.”

“I’m definitely intrigued,” Jeonghan chuckled. “By the way, I didn’t get a chance to ask you yet, but what’s up with you?”

“What do you mean?” Seungcheol asked, knowing very well what Jeonghan was referring to. He just wasn’t in the mood to talk about any of it, not even with his best friend.

“You’ve been acting… I don’t know, strange?”

“I’m not doing anything different, so I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he responded, hoping that the other CEO would just drop the subject.

“Now that’s some bullshit. You’re suddenly doing these random check-ins without announcing yourself beforehand. You never used to do that.”

“So what? I just want to be more involved, is that so wrong?” Seungcheol frowned, his grip on the steering wheel tightening ever so slightly.

“It’s not wrong. It’s just odd, that’s all.”

“Well, there’s nothing going on. Just drop it, Jeonghan,” Seungcheol snapped as he turned off the car engine.

The other man sighed in defeat as he opened the car door, knowing he was not going to get much more out of his friend. “If you say so.”

What Jeonghan didn’t know was that there was, in fact, a reason Seungcheol was suddenly dropping in for surprise visits at every single one of the SEVENTEEN World HQs.

With the news of his other best friend and his sister being in an intimate relationship, he’d made it his mission to keep an even closer eye on the two of them. In the best-case scenario, he would catch them red-handed, either at or outside of work.

However, in order to achieve that, he needed to be as subtle as possible, which was a lot harder than he thought with so many eyes on him. Because if he only targeted Wonwoo, the other CEOs and their secretaries were bound to get suspicious, which is why he’d come up with the current tactic – check up on each of the CEOs to cover up the fact that he was actually only interested in Wonwoo.

As for his sister, she was no doubt wondering what the hell had possessed him, with his sudden interest in her personal life and his frequent unannounced visits at the oddest times. But Seungcheol didn’t care. He was determined to see this through to the end – that is, he would play along with their lies until he was ready to confront the two.

“Hyungs!” Vernon called out from behind the counter as soon as the CEO pair had walked through the door.

“Sup, Vernon?” Jeonghan greeted, raising his hand to greet his other friend.

“Come meet the barista I’ve been telling you about,” Vernon said excitedly as he motioned to the woman standing by his side.

“Cheol?” Jeonghan asked, noticing that his friend had stopped walking and was instead shooting daggers at something ahead.

The CEO in question suddenly understood what Vernon had been talking about when he said it would be different this time, and he definitely understood why his friend had been so utterly positive about the quality of his new barista’s coffee. Because the barista Vernon had been praising was you, the woman who’d made the best coffee he’d ever tasted, but also the woman he so desperately wanted to avoid.

Why the hell were you here?

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

© All right reserved — ourdawnishotterthanourday // Please do not repost or edit any of my works without my permission!! If you see any of my works outside of this Tumblr, pls report it to me asap. Thank you in advance!

AAAND THAT'S A WRAP FOR PART ONE OF MELON PANG! Hope you enjoyed and want to come back for more 🤭

I am not sure yet when part two is going to be released, but I will keep you updated as much as I can! All I can say is that it's going to be interesting hehe 👀 Expect a lot more interaction between Cheol and the reader + other CEOs.

Feedback/comments/reblogs are highly appreciated!

☀ if you want to be added to the tag list (or removed), leave a comment, or send me an ask and specify that you want to be tagged for my SEVENTEEN World tag list!

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thewinchestah · 3 months

Text

"Good things come for those who wait" - Alastor x reader fic

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Tags: ,18+, Smut, NSFW, edging, BDSM, Alastor does what he wants, there's plot if you squint really hard, alastor in heat, breeding kink, Possesive! Alastor, Jealous!Alastor, Protective!Alastor, spanking,degradation kink, praise kink, Angst with a happy ending, fluff, I didn't proof read this, english isn't my first language, no beta we die like men here, etc etc etc

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: there's no point guys. I can't stop talking.

A/N: WOAH!! Hello everyone!! What the fuck?? I wasn't expecting my "debut fic" to blow up like that! Thank you so so much to everyone who took the time to read it and leave a comment! I'm truly flattered by your praise. So, I hope this sequel to "PREY" does it justice! (but it can also be read as a standalone). Let me know if you guys like it, and if you have anymore ideas/suggestions! I'm tagging everyone who asked me to, so if you want to be tagged on my next fics let me know! Without further due, here comes that mostrosity of a fic! Hope you like it <3! (UPDATE: PART 3 IS NOW UP!!)

Part I | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Taglist: @smallershorteranduncut @markster666 @jyoongim @stygianoir @pepperycookie @fraspent @aether-th3-enby

It all started, as many things do, with a joke and a simple misunderstanding. Dying and instantly going to hell is not easy. Being in hell and not understanding why the FUCK you are in hell is confusing, frustrating and sometimes drawright ridiculous. There’s no guidebook for the hellish afterlife, and more often than not you felt lost at sea, drowning. Until you found your questionable lifeline, the Radio Demon.

Somehow said demon clocked really early on that you were completely infatuated with him, but too scared to act on it. And oh, how he gave you enough reason to be infatuated, enough reason to be scared. Luring you into the most delicious trap, Alastor had claimed you as his. His to breed during the height of his heat, his to care for, his to inflict the most heavenly torture.

Being caught up in the middle of the living myth that was the Radio Demon was a dangerous thing, you had been warned over and over again. So of course that you had to almost fuck everything up in the silliest way possible.

The obnoxious TV set, also known as Vox, had just started another round of his futile attempts to win Alastor’s attention by airing the most absurd reality tv character assassination ever. You would put money on the fact that the obsessive flat screen was a deceased TLC producer. Usually, any of his pompous i-hate-alastor-so-so-much!!! fits would be met with enthusiasm around the Hotel. Everyone would cramp in front of the TV and make fun of the entire ordeal. Even Alastor would tag along and make a private edition of his radio show while he counter-narrated that nonsense. It became a fun bonding activity for everyone involved, it was a nice thing. But there’s a reason why you can’t have nice things.

Today the Hotel was mostly empty:, only you, Angel and a very on edge, sexually frustrated, irritated Alastor haunted its posh walls. Still, you and Angel carried on with the little tradition sitting side by side in front of the tv not knowing what to expect from today’s “My Strange Addiction - Alastor’s Version” episode. It was truly a laughable attempt of a character assassination, actors who could not act saying things like “Alastor isn’t even as bad as everyone says, his torture tactics are not that special either. My mom’s aunt was tortured by him and was going to work 10 hours later”, “i walked down the street today and alastor didn’t even try to kill me when he saw me crossing the street, he’s all talk” “i have video footage of the self-proclaimed cannibal eating a chocolate covered strawberry. He’s cannibalbaiting.”

“no self-respecting overlord would go out wearing those ridiculous out-of fashion clothes”.

Angel was having the time of his life leading the daily Vox roast session, the spider was funny and you couldn’t hold the laughs. The camera cut to a close-up of Vox, babbling on about technology and the anti-Radio Demon speech you knew by heart at this point. As if on cue, Alastor entered the room. But the pair of you remained oblivious to his presence.

“Toots, you totally should apply for this show! I mean it!. I’m sure Vox will buy literally anything you say. Anything! If you say Alastor likes to eat red nail polish cause it looks like blood he would believe it! You laughed at his words, what a ridiculous thing to say. You loved red nail polish, alastor drinking it because it looks like blood is absurd. “I mean, look at you!! Look at this face, these eyes!! This body!!!” Angel gave your thighs a playful slap. “If you say hell is actually cold using all that i would eat it right up. Vox will be too busy staring at your boobs to notice you dropping that even the oldest radio looks better than that fucking flat face”. The thought that you were the mind-numbing type of beautiful made you laugh. Sometimes you felt like your friends were being way too kind with the flattery about you. You were nothing special at all. It was nice of them to be kind to you, adapting to your new lifestyle was taking a visible tool, anyone could tell. Their efforts were honorable and sweet, but you just couldn’t let yourself believe what in your heart, you knew was a lie. A beautiful, comfortable lie, but still a lie. You weren’t much, you were just lucky. You started to laugh even harder, out of pure nervousness as your brain started to snowball into all the things you weren’t.

“ Seriously Angel, you have the strangest ideas ever!” you tried to sound normal, putting up a confident facade. That helped, a lot. You had picked that up during your days with Alastor.

Speaking of the devil, Alastor wasn’t amused by your little display. Standing on the corner of the room as you laughed, he made himself known by walking out of the room, in hurried steps. If it were anyone else, they wouldn’t think much of it. But you weren’t anyone else. You were Alastor’s.

And that’s why he was seething with rage. His rut always drove him, an already unpredictable man, to the brink of true, pure instinctual insanity. He had to grip his marvelous constructed self control painfully hard. Since your paths crossed, the most chaotic part of his existence seemed in control, your pretty little body always ready to take him, your eyes always holding his gaze in a maddening comfortable way, the way you would push your limits just for him.

Only for him.

And the worst part was your softness when it was all done. Alastor would fuck you rentless, for hours, making you take all the mess of his most animalistic desires without a second thought. Both of you would be spent, bathing in the afterglow, room smelling like sex, and you would ask him if he needed anything. Him, that just fucked you so hard so won’t walk straight for a week, that feasted on the blood of the love bites he inflicted, him that covered you in a painting of bruises.

How could he not want to just lock you inside his lavish room and give you all the rings of hell? to carve his name deep into your soul? to dote on you? to make him the only thing on your mind as he makes you his time and time again in the most sinful ways?

It was simple really, why he was shaking with anger: how you, who was his, was even thinking of being in the same vicinity of that scum of creation? LAUGHING AT THIS ABSURD CONCEPT. Vox thinking of you was already a crime punishable by painful death, but Vox looking at you was heresy, and the entirety of hell would pay for his transgressions.

As Alastor stormed off towards the Hotel’s large room corridors, he took several calming breaths. Losing control like this wouldn’t do anyone any favors. In the troubled waters of his mind, Alastor could only think of 3 things: you, fucking you and murdering someone.

So he didn’t even realize your hurried steps trying to catch up with his long strides.

“Hey sugartits! Don’t take too long doing whatever you need to do! there’s a woman going live after the break saying she saw Alastor eating an entire packet of PAPER TOWELS!!! HAHA! This shit is too good to be true!” you heard angel scream.

Adding insult to injury, nice.

Trying desperately to reach your demon lover gait, you could only think about how bad you had messed up. Alastor was your only true respite in hell. He was a blessing in a mist of the worst humankind could offer. He made you feel hope, more than making you feel alive, he made you feel glad you’re dead. The Radio Demon felt like coming home. You just wanted to make it up to him. You could not lose this, lose him. You were not sure you would survive it. And who knew where you went after dying in hell?

It doesn’t matter where you go after hell, it doesn’t matter at all if Alastor is not there. Your brain added to your inner monologue. True.

“Alastor! Wait” you shouted. He stops dead on his feet.

Finally, those long long legs of his do not make chasing after your love any easier.

“Alastor, I'm so so sorry. Angel gets way out of line sometimes and I was nervous” he is perfectly still, ears pinned back, listening. But doesn’t say anything back.

“Al I’m truly sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, at all. Look, let’s try to do something to make your day better. I know how hard this season is on you, I know you feel like you are losing contr-

Uh oh.

oh shit.

You used the two forbidden words together. The temperature in the room drops, Alastor snaps towards you. You feel something gripping your throat mercilessly, as you fall to the ground. Looking at the other end of the corridor Alastor has you on a leash of his magic. Eyes burning red, forehead marked “x” he grips your chains hard, pushing you towards him.

“That was a brilliant speech, little doe. Truly marvelous! I’m sure your television debut will be quite the show you were planning!”

His antlers were growing, his demon form showing itself as he becomes taller and taller over you. All bared teeth and flashing red eyes. This is what everyone warned you about. Don’t get in the Radio Demon’s way, he is dangerous and insane. You will regret it.

Hot. your brain thinks. He pulls your leash even tighter, and you feel wetness pooling on your core.

“Do you have any idea what I was about to do before I heard you so selflessly offer your services to that pathetic excuse of a demon?” Dragging you by the magic chains, his towering frame comes down to meet you at eye level. You can’t say anything back, your brain short circuits and goes AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

“You know better than leaving me waiting for an answer at this point, pet” He grips your face using his sharp claws,the pressure threatening to break skin. “But you seem so hellbent on being a bad girl today, I shouldn’t expect your usually good girl’s behavior, should I?”

You are, once again nothing but a doe caught in the headlights of his eyes

“One should always know better than expecting their fantasies to be true”

His sclera goes black, only the tiny blazing red radio dials devouring you as he stares so deep into you, you feel feverish.

“But since we are already here. I. Will. Tell. You.” static picks up around the room and surrounds you both, the corridor is illuminated by an eerie green light. You start to kinda fear for your life, but Alastor has you completely hypnotized by the radio dials on his eyes. You shiver in anticipation.

“I was coming to ask you, to please, spare me a part of your day, away from you friends. Because the only thing on my mind has been you. Fucking you. Sinking my cock so deep into your tight, wet cunt it would mark your soul. Because you are the only one who can take me like this, who deserves being bred by me, who deserves every drop of my seed”

You feel the wetness on your panties grow until it runs down your thighs. There’s nothing right about this, but your dear Alastor showed you long ago how the concepts of right and wrong are meant to be skewed.

“But oh well, you seem to have your affections directed elsewhere…” he tsks at you using that delicious mocking tone. “But, you can’t blame a desperate man for trying” he goes from 100 to 0 really fast, his voice softens so much in a way that’s almost too heavy to hear after all that. Even with his demon form still very much present “Do you still want to make my day better, pet?”

you are at a loss of words, but you manage to nod desperately. The anticipation of what he is going to do to you makes you giddy.

He manhandles your leash until you are on your knees in front of him, tugging on the chains so you look up towards his crotch. He makes quick work of his pants, pulling his cock out. Hard, angry hot red coloured. Angry because of you, angry for you.

“Open wide, little one” and without much more warning, Alastor is fucking your face, hard and fast.

You position your arms behind your back as quickly as you can. You know how hard it is for him to be touched when his rut is peaking. The overwhelming need for relief mixing with his ever present desire for control. This is about him asserting his dominance over you, making sure you don’t ever forget where you belong: In the warmth of his burning gaze, under him, on your knees, while he merciless fucks your throat into compliance. He’s taking it out on you, and you fucking love it.

He’s not saying anything, only growling like he’s about to murder someone. He grabs fistfuls of your velvety hair, but never leaves the white knuckle grip on your chains. You can only resist the urge of playing with your pussy while he thrusts so deep you feel his monster cock. hitting the back of your throat. This is about him, and you want to give him this so badly your cunt is throbbing with desire

Tears wet your cheeks, your lips around his cock are the definition of renaissance art to Alastor. He’s almost over the edge now, the head of his cock twitches on top of your tongue as a warning of his approaching orgasm. It’s hard, it’s hot, it’s fast and it’s angry.

Alastor cums, you swallow as much as you can, but he takes his cock out and spills everywhere, coating your hair, your face. It’s so deliciously erotic Alastor can’t resist catching some of his cum and running his hands throughout your velvet locks, bathing you in his essence, marking you once more. There’s still a bit of cum on the tip of his claw, he feeds it to you, and your lips wrap around his fingers as you take as much of him you can take, gladly.

“Oh how beautiful you are when you ruin yourself like this for me, my little doe” You look up at him with adoration and a lustful gaze, his eyes hold an equally lustful gaze and… something more. Something that you are sure will drive you insane.

Alastor notices the pooling mess underneath your tights, he knows how desperate you are for relief, but he still wants to self indulge on you. He’s certain you still don’t understand the reality of what he is feeling. Swiftly he topples you down the corridor’s carpet and places himself between your legs, his crawled finger tearing your lacy panties away.

Then, he feasts on you like a starving man, and he might be, because you taste like the ambrosia of the gods and he can’t get enough of it. Of how you make a mess of yourself for him and there’s still something for him to take. You just taste so sweet, what a perfect meal your nectar makes. His wicked silver tongue polishes you, aided by your whispered sighs, his name moaned like a prayer on your lips. You are so so close, alastor sucks on your throbbing clit you are already seeing stars, all you need is a gentle push.

Grinning like a devil, Alastor looks up, tilts his head, gives you the most wicked-and-douchey look in existence. He gets up, your leash dissipating into the air and walks away in perfect composure, like nothing happened. Nothing at all.

“Well, I think that’s my cue!!” he says in his usually chirpy tone. You just stay there, flabbergasted. “I just remembered I still have a lot to do today! Work never stops when you maintain a facility like this in tip-top condition!” Already halfway across the corridor, Alastor’s head turns towards you “Still want to make my day good my dear? Be a doll and clean this mess up, will you?” you just stare at him, too fucking stunned to speak. You can’t believe it. That fucking devil. He’s about to make the turn towards the elevator and disappear when his eyes flash red as he warns you “Oh! and don’t you dare make yourself cum without my permission. If you cum before I say so, you won’t be cumming for a week. Choose wisely!Let’s see who loses control first Ha Ha! This will be fun!”

Alastor can be a psychopathic demon in heat, but before all that he still is a psychopathic demon who loves torture.

And he just left you all hot and bothered.

–

Alastor knew better than believing in such things as heaven or holiness. In fact, Alastor was positively sure nothing was sacred. The concept of sacredness was non-existent in his book.

But his skeptic mind danced on the edge of belief when he touched you. To be inside you felt heavenly, heavenly in a type of way that should not even be allowed in this place. The way your lush body burned underneath his wicked gaze was sacred.The way you always presented yourself to him, with selfless abandon was sacred. Somehow, someone allowed him, of all people, access to a soul he frankly didn’t understand what was doing in hell in the first place. He never was the better man. He was never giving that up.

In all of his nature, Alastor felt the most sinful pleasure in defiling your sacredness. He wanted nothing but to take the heavenly thing you were and taint it with his darkness.

He was well acquainted to torture and had no shame in inflicting the most delicious and depraved type of it on you ,until all of your holiness was irrevocably marked by him, down to the core of your soul. Of course Alastor didn’t buy your soul. He didn’t need to use those means to completely own you. He did it effortlessly, because you craved it. Because he craved it.

That’s why the thought of Vox even looking in your way was heretic, and not in a good way. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you to Vox. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. Period. You were his.

But adding that man into the equation just made everything more intolerable. The things he would do if he found out about you… Found out that not only you were his but how you could make someone feel. How precious and undeserving of anything less than good you were…

You were made to be cherished and protected. Protected by him.

In fact, it took all of the Radio Demon’s willpower to restrain from walking to the Vees building, and kill Vox for something he didn’t do. Because Alastor wouldn’t allow the thought to even cross his mind. All that, a messy display of his desperation and loss of control. Giving that prick the smug satisfaction of knowing somehow he got to him, in his last moments.

Damn, his rut truly did make him on edge.

Suppressing his murderous thoughts, Alastor focused his mind into something he as actually good at: torture. Yours specifically. He still wanted to punish you for making him feel like this. He still wanted to make you understand.

And he just thought of the sweetest way to do it.

After cleaning up the mess on the corridor, and yourself (you did it all on autopilot, still trying to understand what the FUCK happened) you still had to give Angel a satisfaction about why you didn’t come back. You must’ve looked really miserable cause Angel just hugged you really tight and ordered you to bed. When in reality all of your efforts were now focused on masking your humiliating arousal. So you find yourself lying in your bed, trying not to think anything Radio Demon related. You’re totally not thinking about the way he looked at you while he fucked you. The way his eyes would search yours in a crowded room, winking playfully at you. An inside joke. A promise.The way you both playfully banter at the dinner table over silly things. You are also totally not thinking about how he takes you, how you love to hear him saying “good girl” to you after you push your limits again, only for him. Not thinking at all about how his cock fills you so perfectly, you truly feel empty without it. Who’s thinking about what hides behind his eyes when he his voice goes all soft in the middle of a rough fucking? Ha ha!! Definitely not you.

You punch yourself with your pillow.

C’mon don’t think thoughts of Alastor now…

You are so fucked, and not in a sexy way. The worst part is that you want to endure it, you want to be good for him. Your pussy is aching to be touched, your mind begging you to have thoughts of Alastor while your pussy is being touched. But right now you would give everything in this world to hear him praise you again. You know how hard his rut is on him… He already carries a lot alone, the Hotel, the doomsday clock of extermination ticking closer and closer everyday. Plus the other things… You know there’s something more, something that haunts his nights, but it’s not your place to ask. Hell, you are too scared to ask. You just hope, you just pray that when it happens you are beside him. You don’t ever expect the Radio Demon to ever ask for help, or open up. Or seek comfort. Oh, he’s anything but comfortable. But you like to think that in time, he would feel comfortable enough around you he could let something slip, a tiny detail to add to your “The Mystery of the Radio Demon” clue board. Something that would let you show him he doesn’t need to pick himself apart, carry all these burdens alone.

Great, you are doing amazing at the “not thinking any Alastor thoughts” game.

You hug your pillow closer and look across you window as you start saying out loud a list of things you need to do around the Hotel. Maybe this will take your mind off the devil.

Tend to the Venus Fly traps of the gardens. (You could ask Nifty for the bugs)

Write the thank you letters to the new guests that agreed to help with hotel chores.

Tell charlie about your book club idea using cool flashcards

It’s your turn to organize “Theme nights”, maybe Alastor would enjoy a “great gatsby” theme, right?

Great, Alastor again. You sighed.

Suddenly a red note written with perfect penmanship flies next to your spot on the bed.

“My darling doe, I’m waiting for you in my chambers.

Don’t take your time, we have much to discuss.-

Yours, Alastor.

You take your time, though, to thank anyone who’s listening as you sprint towards Alastor’s lavish room. You feel dizzy, anticipation like butterflies in your stomach. You don’t have to knock more than once for him to let you in.

He’s on the edge of the bed, looking like his normal self (as normal as it gets for Alastor)

The taps the spot next to him on the the bed

“Come here, you darling thing!”

you don’t waste a second, and as quickly as you are sitting on his bed, you are sitting on lap. Holding you close, in a vice like grip with one of his arms, Alastor starts talking

“How was the rest of your day, my dear?” you open your mouth to start talking, you have so much to say to him. That you were a good girl, that you were ready to do anything to make up for laughing at Angel’s stupid idea of seducing Vox. You are ready to beg for your release. to ask how his day was. But you don’t get to utter a word.

Alastor quickly and swiftly maneuvers you: now your feet are dangling from the bed, your ass and legs sprawled out across his lap. A powerful arm locking you to him by the small of your back.

Holy fuck.

“Well my day was downright awful! You see I overheard my pretty pet laughing at the prospect of seducing one of my most infuriating enemies. I’m in the peak of my unforgiving rut ,and all I wanted was the shared pleasure of our bodies as I fuck the darling thing senseless!” he pinches the back of your thigh, hard. You blur out a soft, desperate sigh.

“Of course, the good girl she is, she went begging for my forgiveness. I didn’t fully give it, of course. That was a harsh offense, what my little doe did. But I did have my fill with her” You try to spea-

Alastor audibly shushes you.

“I did leave her all hot and bothered after spilling my cum all over her maddening little body, of course. I contenplated murdering the bastard demon so he wouldn’t get a chance of even knowing about her existence and what she does to me. But I still suffered with the hellish need of fucking her into oblivion, and pondered a lot about divine justice. So, if I had to suffer this entire day because of her offenses I think it’s only right for that darling doe to get her fill of suffering and punishment hmmmm?

You try to look back to his face, but you feel the familiar sensation of magic wrapping around your throat. The leash, you are so so fucked. You couldn’t be happier about it.

He tugs at the chain, so your skirt rides up and your ass is totally bare for him and your head is buried in one of his fluffy pillows. With a snap of his fingers your panties disintegrate.

You shiver at the thought of what’s happening next, a delicious sensation that flows across your back and ends up inside your cunt, beginning to turn into a wet mess. He’s gonna spank you like the bad girl you were. He’s not going to be gentle about it either. You can’t wait. It’s gonna hurt, it’s gonna sting, it will leave you bruised. It will be deliciously wicked, like all of Alastor’s punishments.

You feel another surge of magic, behind the powerful green glow something materializes.

Your horsegirl days back on earth don’t let you down. You recognise it instantly. On his previous free hand he’s holding a riding crop. A big, leather pointed riding crop.

He’s going to literally whip you into submission. You squirm inside his arm. You can’t fucking wait. You’ve made yourself come a few times after the thought of being literally tamed, broke by alastor.

You whimper. Alastor’s laugh fills the room.

“So this is how this is going to go, pet. I’m going to whip you lovely ass like the ungrateful slut you are and you are going to thank me for it after every crack of the whip. I’m gonna do this as many times as I see fit. Until your ass is as red as my hair. Until you understand what you did. By the time I’m done you will be begging to be punished more. Are we clear?

You can’t look back at him, but you can feel how his red irises make your skin burn. You like to imagine that his eyes did the thing where they soften for a heartbeat, if you blink you miss it. Waiting for your permission, even now. You are able to muffle a “yes, oh please Alastor, yes”.

“Lovely.”

crack.

He didn’t even gave you time to process. The whip lands hard on the back of your left thigh. You let out a scream.

“Well?” he asks impatiently as he waits for your “thank you”. Seeing the way the spot where the whip landed turn a lovely shade of scarlet isn’t helping him hold his resolve either.

You wanna do this right, you need this as much as he needs it.

“thank-”

crack. the whip lands on your right thigh, a little lower.

“tha-”

crack.crack.

He whips you even harder, cutting the wind as it lands twice on your left buttcheek. Only four cracks down and you are a whimpering mess. You wiggle instinctively on his lap, seeking some friction, some relief. It hurts so bad, but it feels so good. You don’t know if you can take more. You want it anyway. “thank you, thank you” you whimper. Tears wet your face, arousal wets your core adding to the mess from before he even started.

crack. crack.

He mirrors his movements to your right buttcheek. “thank yo- Holy fuck Alastor”

one more hit, now hitting both of your buttcheks.

“I’ve told you many times before pet, there’s nothing holy about what I do to you. I’m gonna break you and then breed you. I won’t give you a moment of respite. And maybe by the end, when your legs are shaking from holding that orgasm you have been desperately chasing since this afternoon, I will be merciful and let you find your release. And we will know who’s really losing control here”

How can he do this to you with only his voice? You are not sure you’ve ever been so aroused in your entire life. You’re so wet, you’re staining Alastor’s pants. As close as you will get to marking him.

There’s a draft coming from the forest of his room, it softly kisses your abused skin, making it sting. You want to see the state of your lower body so badly. The way you’re submitting to him right now, the most sweet form degradation possible. Your eyes are clouded with tears, that line between pain and pleasure being blurred in ways only someone like the Radio Demon could cross. He tugs on your leash, to attract your attention from the sinful, unholy sensations you are feeling so openly, back to him.

Alastor drags the leather point of the whip across your throbbing cunt, collecting the obscene amount of wetness there. “By the 7 rings of hell, what do you have here? Are you such a slut that you are creaming at being whipped into compliance? I could do this all night long. Your ass is already red with regret for your actions but I’m not sure you learned your lesson yet.”

crack. The whip this time lands on your juicy cunt. Your hips trash with the sensation, your demon lover’s name escaping your lips like a prayer.You forget to thank him this time, despite your best efforts.

“Are you so big of an ungrateful brat that you want this sinful punishment to continue? Not even bothering to thank me, in hopes it will end sooner. You know what you are. Nothing but a hungry greedy whore for the Radio Demon”

crack, crack. One hit on each cheek. “But I already knew that” and with that mocking tone Alastor lands a masterful final hit on both of your cheeks. He does have a way of proving his point.

You are fucking sobbing now. Tears coat your cheeks, now a colour so vibrant as the rich scarlet the covers your ass. Alastor knows everything that makes you tick. He knows how close you are to cumming. Cumming for only his masterfully inflicted punishment and his voice. Incoherent whimpers leave your lips “please please please” and soft “ohh and aaah, alastor”

He tugs on your leash again, he knows your body like the palm of his hand, and that you are probably entering the mind numbing phase of the pain and the pleasure. But he still wants your undivided attention. He has whipped you into submission, he still needs to fuck you into submission.

“And you even made the mess of yourself stain my pants! My god, you are pathetic. Delightfully pathetic”

Alastor gently runs his clawed hands across your ass, the sharp edges making you hiss. He looks in adoration at the masterpiece he inflicted on you. Your ass and thighs a shade of scarlet to rival his hair, the wetness between your thighs a heavenly invitation. Beautiful. Sinful. Sacred. He will never forget this, and he will make sure that you never forget it too.

“Now, now, we are done with this my little doe” his voice goes extra soft because you can’t see him with your face buried in a soft pillow. “you were so good for me, you always are”

The softness and sweetness of his praise makes you sob even harder. It’s maddening.

He gently maneuvers you further into the bed, making space for himself.

“But now I’m painfully hard, and I still need to bury myself inside that tight throbbing cunt of yours, so deep it will mark. your. soul.” static picks up around you, a delicious omen of what is about to happen.

Alastor positions himself behind you, immediately entering you and bottoming out.

His first thrusts are sharp and deep, as to make his promise of marking yourself from the inside real. He pulls your chains so your scarlet ass is presenting itself to him like the most sinful gift.

Alastor picks up that breakneck pace of fucking, common to him, specially during his rut. He fucks you like he hates you. As hard as he possibly can, to make you know that you are his and his only. That even thinking of someone else, even as a joke, will not be tolerated. You wanted all of him didn’t you? You’ve made that clear, with words, with actions, with the things your body endures for him. So he makes sure to give you that.

Moans drip from your lips in a crescendo, you are screaming now, you don’t know how long you will last. It feels so good. That delayed gratification drowning you in maddening pleasure.

“Who do you think is losing control here?” he asks after a painfully sharp thrust. “Me, or the mess of a slut underneath me? That is screaming my name loud enough for the entire pride ring to know how she loves being fucked like a common whore for the Radio Demon,hmm?”

One hand pulls your leash upwards, the other your hips. He’s even deeper now, you can feel him in your core.

You don’t reply to the question even though you want to, even though you know the answer.

“Again, since you like being bred like that so much you are not hearing me” he takes all of his cock out and enters you at once. “Who’s losing control here? Me, or my little plaything with the scarlet ass from being whipped into compliance like the pretty little brat she is?”

You don’t forget to answer him now, you need to cum, desperately. You withheld your building orgasm for an entire day, you wanted to be good for Alastor. You wanted to be able to take everything he gives you. The pleasure, the pain, the sinful, delicious depraved torture. “Me, I am!” you scream out.

Alastor’s pace is becoming erratic, you feel the shadows of his growing antlers cover you.

“Again” he tugs at your collars. Another sharp, deep thrust.

“Me, i’m losing control”

“And what are you?” his voice is filled with static now, he’s close too.

“Yours! I’m yours Alastor, yours to fuck, to break, to punish” you cry out in sweet pain and pleasure.

Another tug, Another painfully sharp thrust

“I’m only yours Alastor” you finish.

“Good. girl.” he spaces the words out between thrusts, knowing how you relish in them.

“You can come now”

Your orgasm comes crashing down. You grip the sheets like a maniac, your legs shaking so hard Alastor needs to hold them in place. You scream so loud you are sure they can hear you in heaven. You hope they can, so they know. So they know this man owns you. So they know you love him.

Alastor is not far behind, your cunt tightening around him like a vice. He fucks you specially hard and deep know, delayed gratification hitting all at once. He cums so hard inside you, he’s sure he finally marked your soul. The feeling of his cock twitching and spilling inside you, adding to the indescriptible sensation. You are completely over the edge now, you feel weightless, free falling.

You know Alastor will catch you.

“Ah! There she is” you open your eyes and feel a soft kiss on your cheek. You are lying on top of Alastor’s chest, he cuddles you gently, making lazy circles on your hipbone but still buried to the hilt inside you. He still plans to give you all of his cum, all he has during his rut,after all.

“woah, that was… amazing” you say after a while.

“Well, I did whip and fuck you to the brink of insanity my dear. And you came so beautifully for me, you passed out. You’re such a sight pet. I will never forget it.” you blush at his words. You feel so happy.

Alastor kisses your cheek again, and with a final thrust he leaves you with a obscenely wet noise. You are dripping with his cum, it’s running down your thighs, staining the sheets.

You whimper in complaint.

“Ah ,don’t be like that” he laughs, is a genuinely happy laugh. “There’s still plenty of where that came from, but I need my darling doe to rest first” he says. He’s lying you gently on the bed as he gets up. “Don’t leave” you whisper.

He’s out of the bed anyways, and seems to be on his way to do something. You don’t care, you want him back here, holding you. You don't want him to ever let you go.

“Al, i’m truly sorry about today. You know that, right?” You know that I love you, right? You want to say, but you are scared that confession is a little much for today. You see where he’s headed now. He opens the bathroom door.

“Don’t even think about it, my dear. It’s all water under the bridge” he says in his usual chirpy tone, louder than the noise of the bath running. “Now you just need to promise me that you will never even let the thought of that pathetic demon cross your mind, my love”

my love.

“And if he ever does, you will let me know. So I can fuck those wretched ideas out of your mind” Alastor is walking back to the bed now. He picks you up bridal style and carries you across the room. You can’t help the hiss that escape your lips as your irritated skin touches him. “I know, I know my dear. We will fix that right up. I can’t have my favourite doe hurting. We still have a long way to go until the end of my rut, dearest” you don’t reply, you are just happy. perfectly happy. You could hear Alastor’s voice for days without complaining. “But you did look so perfect with that scarlet ass on my lap. Crying from how much you love what I do to you. I hope you never forget that”

You both reach the bathtub, he drops you with all the care in the world inside the water.

“I’m so proud of you. I truly am” the water is warm. The soap smells so nice. He lit candles too. You give in to the soothing sensations. You might have tuned out for a bit, cause you hear alastor calling your name so softly… He says it again, slow, soft, gentle, pleading. As to catch your attention, he has something important to say. “You know how precious you are to me, don’t you my little doe?” “yes” you respond, trying to fight the tears that begin to spill down your face ‘

“Oh my darling girl, why are you crying? There’s nothing to cry about. You are here, safe with me. As you will always be, as is your place.”

“Alastor I-I-” your heart swells, you want to say something. You want to say everything you are feeling. How consuming, in the best way possible, your feelings are for him.

But Alastor is always 10 steps ahead.

“I know, I know darling” he kisses your hand “I feel it too.” he says. It feels like a confession, it sounds like a confession. The look on his eyes is the one of that mystery that hides there every time his voice in the midst of your passion.

When you,know you know. your mind reiterates.

“Let me help you dry those tears. Save them for another day” He holds your face and kiss your lips. “The only thing you need to worry about right now is resting and recovering that luscious body of yours, as well as your brilliant, witty mind”

He hands you a sparkly fancy pink soap, and gets up to find the softest sponge he has stored.

“Now, I hope you like the smell of these candles, cause I’m not letting you out of my sight for at least the next four days!”

Alastor continues to chat away sweet nothings as he helps you bathe. Maybe it will take a while for the Radio Demon to say those 4 words out loud. He has enough reason for that, inside that beautiful, complicated mind of his. His actions always speak louder than words, your relationship was proof of that.

Until then, you will always have sacred moments in crowded rooms, you will always have jokes that only the both of you understand. He will always keep sweeping you off your feet in the most deliciously wicked ways possible.

Right now, you have him by your side after everything that happened, you have his heart too. You are sure of that. So you don’t mind waiting for him.

Good things come for those who wait.

#atenção creuzebek vamos lá vai começar a baixaria #author is also in heat can you tell #METE COM FORÇA E COM TALENTO EU TO OFEGANTE E VC PERCEBENDO #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor x reader smut #the radio demon #the radio demon x you #hope uou guys like it!!#VEM DE CHICOTE ALGEMA CORDA DE ALPINISTA #baixaria

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frannyzooey · 7 months

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Short Days, Long Nights: 14

Joel Miller x f!reader

Series Masterlist

Rating: M (childbirth, PTSD, mentions of grief)

A/N: I tried to make this as non graphic as possible, focusing instead on the emotions of the characters. The entire reason I wrote this fic in the first place, I couldn't have made it through this chapter without the incredible suggestions, support and beta reading of @the-scandalorian and @the-ginger-hedge-witch. I truly hope you enjoy ❤❤

In the blue wash of time between the middle of the night and the dawn, he’s asleep next to you when the first pains start.

Deep at the root of your spine, a low throb blooms. Fading in and out, you try to ignore the manageable ache and when you can’t, your first instinct is to curl in on yourself. So you do just that: rub the heel of your hand against your tailbone, letting your feet slide together in the same rhythmic figure eight you soothe yourself with when you’re really sick.

That motion alone should have been a giveaway, but it doesn’t strike you until the sun is rising that this is something different.

Still, you let him sleep.

On an instinct to be alone, you slip from the bed to go sit out on the porch. Another swell of pain ripples across your back, the sensation still light enough to soothe with a steady rub, and a taut contraction stretches across your hips for a fleeting moment, then disappears.

The sun peeking just above the horizon, you breath low and slow, watching as it makes a steady ascent. The peaceful setting seeps in, blanketing you in reassurance and comfort, and you’re remarkably calm when he comes out of the bedroom in search of you.

Sleep mussed curls and a frown on his face, his arms are crossed tight over his chest as he wards off the morning chill.

“What’s wrong?” His voice is husky and low, thick with sleep.

“I think it’s gonna be today.”

—

He dresses immediately, setting his mind to tasks you’ve discussed for months beforehand in an attempt to calm his nerves. Still, his hands tremble when he walks down to the bank to fill pails with water. He balls them into fists and shakes them in frustration, willing them to stop.

Hours, days: there is no way of knowing how long this is going to take. He hates the uncertainty of it, the edge of danger that you have to teeter upon while he is helpless to stop it. Anything, at any moment, could go wrong and he would have no way of knowing what or how to help you.

He’d be fucking useless, just like he was before.

The guilt he’s always felt creeps through his chest like the fungus that’s infected everything else, settling deep between his ribs. It branches up through his mind, invading his thoughts and the heavy weight of it pulls at him; his shoulders rounding in a slump. His eyes close tight, his fingers digging deep into the damp sand as he braces himself on the ground.

The thick, suffocating terror he felt on Outbreak Day comes back to him easily, a different version of the same brand of helplessness he felt on the day Sarah was born. The same as what he feels now, he feels his chest tighten and constrict, his breathing getting shallower and shallower.

No.

Fighting against it, he shakes himself from the reverie of images: blood, pain, anguish, sobbing. An intensely feral need rises like bile; an urge to burn the world to the ground while screaming just to make sure nothing touches what is his.

Useful to no one if he lets it take over, he pushes it all away. Practiced in remaining calm under pressure, he takes a deep breath, focusing on the water.

In and out, in and out, timing each breath with the gentle lap of waves along the shore.

He speaks silent affirmations to himself - prayers, if he was still a praying man.

He can do this. He won’t fail. He can’t.

Gathering himself, he stands.

“You doin’ okay?” he asks, stepping back into the cabin. Shutting the door tight to keep out the spring chill, he sets the pails of water next to the wood stove and comes to sit next to you on the couch.

“Yea, I’m good.” A grimace of pain flits across your face for a split second, and he shifts to make room for you as you recline on the couch. Grabbing the blanket from across the back, he settles it over you.

“I think I should try to get some rest, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to sleep.” Even as you say the words, a yawn breaks through.

“You’ll probably need it. Might not be a bad idea, ‘specially if you can sleep through some of the pain.” He rifles through the mix of bottles in front of you on the coffee table, placed there earlier by himself. “I don’t have anything stronger than ibuprofen,” he says apologetically. “But you can have some if you want?”

You wave it away, sliding down on the couch to try and get comfortable. “No, it’s okay. I can do without it for now. It’s not so bad.”

He moves to give you room, and your hand reaches for his, holding it tight.

“Stay with me? I don’t want to be alone when I wake up.”

The open vulnerability on your face pulls him in, the small way in which you ask breaking open his chest, and he immediately sits back, tugging your feet onto his lap.

“Of course, honey. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

He smoothes over the arches of your small socked feet, letting go when you curl them together, clearly a means to comfort yourself. He instead rests his hand on your shin in a reassuring hold, and watching your eyes flutter shut as your breathing deepens and slows, his veil of control stays in place while his mind begins to free fall.

Panic, guilt, nervous anticipation, panic.

Again he resists, using the warmth of your shin as an anchor.

He’s quiet: sitting with you for a bit, reading a little before giving up, double checking the supplies on the table. Making sure the bed in your old room is covered with a tarp from the shed, some old quilts piled on top of it.

Pacing until he wills himself to stop.

His eyes flick over to you every time he sees you shift in your sleep: your hand coming to rest on your belly, rubbing the underside with a fleeting wince of pain. He watches, and wishes he could take this all from you: every twinge of pain, everything that’s about to come.

The guilt he feels at being responsible for putting you in this position is something he thought he made peace with a while ago, but it flares bright with every small frown between your brows and when you wake with a soft whine of discomfort, he strides to your side immediately, helping you sit up.

Your pained sound grows louder, both of your hands splaying over the source as you clench your jaw, and feeling helpless, he does what he can, rubbing broad circles over your back.

“I’m right here, honey. I’m right here.”

You seem to give into his touch, leaning against it for strength and your fingers dig into the meat of his thigh as you ride it out.

He keeps rubbing, and the next few hours pass much the same: waiting and pain.

–

“Can you hand me that rag?”

The bed dips with his weight as he sits next to you, and wringing out the damp scrap of fabric in his hands, he runs it along your hairline.

“I can do it,” you protest, no real fight in the words as your eyes slip shut.

“I got it.”

You feel as wrung out as that rag, exhausted yet unable to rest. Keyed up with adrenaline, you’re trying to let your body take over and not fight every single contraction, but it’s hard - so hard. Each one wracks your body with a tight, seemingly endless crest of pain that steals the air from your lungs and makes it hard to breathe, forcing you to struggle on instinct alone.

He swipes the fabric along the bridge of your nose, gently guiding your face to the side so he can collect the sweat dusted across your cheeks. You focus on the delicate drag of the cloth, letting your body relax.

“Thank you.”

Not for the first time, he looks at his watch as if it still worked and then immediately away, directing his gaze out the window.

“Seems like they’re getting closer,” he remarks, his hand coming to rest on the hard swell of your stomach. “Does it feel like it?”

“I honestly…I don’t know. It’s hard to keep track.”

He nods and then leaves the room, coming back with a pencil and paper.

“It’s late. ‘Round four, I think, so you’ve been at it about twelve hours. Let me know when the next one starts, and I’ll count it out. I’ll keep track on here.”

He sets the paper down on the bedside table, his hand poised to begin making a chart and you rest your hold on top of his.

“I think…” you lick your dry lips, swallowing. “I think we just go with it. I feel like I’ll know when it’s time?”

If you don’t officially keep track of the time between them, you won’t officially know when it’s time to push but…something about it seems right to you, given the way you’ve learned to live without structured time.

That, and without an official “start time”, you can force your nerves to the bottom of your mind, delaying inevitable pain. Even if only for a little longer.

The stern look he gives you in response tells you how he feels about that answer, and he shakes his head.

“It’s not just about knowin’ when it’s time. It’s about knowin’ when it’s been too long.”

His logic wins over your fear, and a weighted silence lingers between the two of you. Not wanting to acknowledge what that would mean, you let his hand go and curl onto your side. Facing him, you let him know when the next contraction starts, and while he sets his pencil down to hold your hand, you watch his lips move with silent counts.

–

You just… let your body take over.

Existing in a plane of never ending cresting waves of crippling pain that come closer and closer together, you squeeze his hand just as tight as you squeeze your eyes shut with every single one. The fight inside of you fades, instinct ruling instead and needing to have faith in your body to do the right thing without any knowledge to guide you, you just…give in.

You should be terrified at the prospect of it, but you can’t seem to find the strength to care. Your body was built for this, designed for this, has done this very thing billions of times over throughout human existence and giving yourself over to that idea, you find yourself comforted, in a way.

You do what it tells you to do: take deep breaths when you can, curl onto your side into a tight ball when you need to, let tears fall freely from your eyes without embarrassment. You writhe and shift on the bed into whatever position feels comfortable, giving into the instinctual need to seek comfort at whatever cost.

Daylight shifts into twilight shifts into nightfall, and he’s with you throughout the whole thing, as steadfast as he’s always been.

At your side, like he’s always been.

There, like he’s always been.

With his reassuring presence beside you, you descend into a base version of yourself with his hand an anchor.

–

A quiet, formidable strength greater than the brute type he’s capable of emerges, and Joel watches as you close your eyes and draw on resources he didn’t know your body still had.

Underrated and overlooked in terms of survival, you may not have the physical skills he has but your internal strength and will to survive through hope and optimism are more valuable than his skills right now. Awestruck by the shift that happens before him, he wonders if that’s what's always subconsciously drawn him to you: this innate sense that you’ll fill in his blanks, bringing him a sense of peace when his life has known anything but.

You take his weaknesses and mold them into something good instead of a liability, meeting them with strengths of your own. He is responsible for so many things when it comes to you: your life, your well being, your survival. Seeing you now, taking charge of every one of those things with a fierce strength that outmatches anything he can provide in this situation, he not only understands that you have his back just as much, but also that you’ve always had it.

Two halves of a whole, your faith and his competence.

An equal partner, whose qualities shine bright in their quiet, unassuming way.

Your fingers twisted in the sheets, you prop yourself up against the headboard of the bed with a low groan and tell him when you’re ready.

“I think it’s time.”

You barely get the words out before you’re bearing down in taut silence, your jaw clenched and he shifts on the bed, his hands molding over your knees to gently pull them apart.

“Come on, honey. I’ve got you.”

–

His voice calls to you from the depths of your pain, the sound of it muffled behind the blood rushing in your ears and you use it like a beacon, something to focus on. The contractions one on top of another, it’s well past dark outside the cabin when everything seems to happen all at once:

A dark, wet patch of hair emerging; Joel’s eyes widening as his fingers tentatively reach out to touch it.

A sob catching in your throat; fluid soaking the blanket underneath you.

Pain so fierce and overwhelming it makes you lightheaded; a pressure so blindingly sharp and heavy and full that you scream before it abruptly stops, everything sliding out in a slick rush.

“You did it, honey,” he praises you, his head down as he cradles the baby in his hands. “You did it. She’s out.”

She. The sobs you let out are involuntary, a mixture of immense relief and joy paired with the crash of adrenaline and your limbs shake with exhaustion, your head falling back into the pillow he’s propped beneath your head.

It’s only then that the silence in the room comes to your attention.

“Joel?” You wearily push yourself up, trying to see her.

He’s looking down at the mattress with a deep frown of focus, his skin ashen and gray and your stomach bottoms out, panic flooding your chest. Limited as your knowledge is about babies, you know you should be hearing her make a sound right now. Any sound.

“Why isn’t she crying?” you ask, a slight tremble catching the end of the sentence.

He doesn’t answer you, instead staying focused on her, his hands smeared and glistening with blood as one splays over her impossibly tiny chest, his fingers rubbing along the dip of her sternum.

“Come on. Come on.”

His words have a frantic edge to them, one you can hear even with how he’s murmuring the near silent chant to himself and you mirror it, doing the same.

“Come on, baby. Come on.”

A thin whimper breaks the tense silence, her limbs suddenly flaring out in a silent fight against the world, and her timid cry blooms into a bright wail that pierces the air.

Relief floods out of you in sob, his own breaking free in the rush of a heavy exhale, and when he scoops her up, unshed tears glisten in his eyes. Handing her wet body to you, she’s matted and smeared with blood and slick, and she squirms on your bare chest for a moment, your arms automatically cradling her close.

Impossible tiny, just like he said.

“A she.” Your voice thick with tears, you look up at him and he grins down at you, his smile shining bright with pride.

“A she.”

Your cheek comes to rest on the crown of her head when he bends to press a kiss to your forehead and his murmurs against the sweat damp skin there make you cry even more.

“You did it, my girl. You did it.”

–

A slight tremble to his hands as he finishes tying off the umbilical cord, he gently hands her back to you and reaches for the bucket near the side of the bed.

“I’m gonna go empty this, but I’ll be right back.”

You acknowledge him, your arms tightening in their hold on her as you scoot back in your bed. Tucked safely against your chest, she’s already sliding into sleep and you join her, closing your eyes. Fixing the blanket around you, he picks up the bucket and leaves the room.

Night darkens the path as he makes his way down to the water, the setting around him awash in muted colors. Animals moving in their quest to hunt for the night, the fresh spring breeze rustles the new growth on the trees that surround him, but he sees and hears none of it, his vision beginning to tunnel.

Black gathers around the edges of the world, the basin in his hands falling onto the grass. His boots sinking into the sand, he barely makes it to the bank before he’s buckling, knees hitting the soft ground.

The image of the two of you sleeping flashes through his mind, and the pressure in his chest swells and overcomes him, emotion choking his airway. The intensity of the last twenty four hours seeps out of him, the image of her still body as he rubbed life into her fixed behind his clenched shut eyes and finally - finally - he lets it go with big, wracking sobs that pour out, a sound he tries to muffle with his hands.

Relief, relief.

–

June Miller.

A basin of warm water between the two of you on the bed, you watch as he cradles her endlessly moving body in his large hands and bathes her. Her limbs stretch and flex slowly, testing their newfound boundaries and not being able to decide on which face you want to look at more, you shift your gaze back and forth between her scrunched one and his more focused, intent one. He’s careful yet steady with his movements, the gentle splash of water the backdrop to the tiny squawks of protest she lets out.

The lantern illuminates them, a circle of light surrounding their figures in an intensely intimate way and you watch glistening drops of water slide down over his thick wrist as he cups some, pouring it over her hair.

“I know you don’t like it. I know.”

It’s innate, his soothing.

Second nature from the first time he held her and spoke to her, you could tell he’d done this before. His body curled protectively around her as he held her to his broad chest, his movements practiced and confident and you watched as it happened without him even realizing, like he didn’t have to think about caring for someone else - just doing it, as if he couldn’t help it.

Finishing bathing her with the fresh basin of water he brought back from the river, she keeps her eyes closed against the light of the world as he sets her in her cradle, turning to help you from the bed. You brace your hand on his solid shoulder as he kneels, exhaustion thickly blanketing your body as you feel soothing, firm wipes of wet warmth on your skin. He’s just as careful and detailed with it as he was with her, and after he dries and settles you in the bedroom you share with him, he crawls in after you, closing his eyes.

Dawn is breaking when you wake to the sound of a restless, small cry and you leave him sleeping when you go to grab her, bringing her back to bed. Brushing aside the soft blanket that covers her cheek, you look down and see two dark eyes blinking back up at you. Shaped just like his, they stay open.

You want to wake him because it feels…significant, this moment. She’s tiny — dark eyes, a button nose, a dot of a mouth and full little cheeks. Her eyes are open and so are yours and the two of you sit there and just — look. Basking in the strange sensation of silently learning each other, yet knowing each other so well already.

You remember what Joel said, about you and them and the peaceful stillness of sitting in the quiet and your vision waters, a tear slipping from the corner of your eye. More joy than you’ve felt in your whole life, the emotion is overwhelming - as if a beacon of pure, unfiltered light has flooded your entire body, lighting you from the inside out.

She keeps looking, her tiny brow scrunching and you smile down at her, another tear sliding free.

“Joel,” you whisper, and he’s up in an instant.

“Yea?”

It takes you a minute to speak, and his face shifts into alarm.

“What’s the matter? She okay?”

He sits up quickly, scooting closer to see her more clearly.

“Yea,” you reply, sniffing. “Look at her.”

She looks like you, like him, like her own self and you can’t stop looking at her, trying to find fleeting traces of every version.

Mesmerized, he strokes the soft back of her tiny hand over and over with his thumb, and his voice is a low gravel, full of soothing adoration.

“Hey, baby girl.”

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller/you #joel miller/reader #tlou fanfiction

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seongclb · 10 months

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CUPID’S MISTAKE ! sim jaeyun

♫ crybaby by the neighbourhood

SYNOPSIS. you’ve never understood why he gets so many dates all the time, he’s bloody insufferable. you can’t stand him at all, yet everyone else is crazy for him. i guess, you’ll find out what’s so irresistible about himself, soon. after all, he’s planning your valentines date together already.

PAIRING. playboy!enha x reader, slight enemies to lovers au, angst & fluff.

WARNINGS. cursing, suggestive ish make outs but they’re not that bad & jake being MEANNN.

WORD COUNT. almost 9k (8,976)

N. hi guys it’s finally out! member reveal omg !! feel like this fic could have been way better but i promise to make the next not as rushed and rubbish :( lmk what u guys think thoughhh .. also big thank you to @dazed-hee for beta reading :)

TAGLIST. @delcakoo2 @flwrshee @woon2u @rikizm @luckyowl @luvistqrzzz @mrchweeee @seungiesluv @x-mbl

1. I THINK I TRY TOO HARD.

You always hated the first days of school, but for some reason, they had always summed up your year perfectly. Something about them was always so exciting.

Every first day of school for four years now, you started your day with a Starbucks accompanied by your best friends: Yunjin and Taehyun. The sweet taste of the coffee greeting your tastebuds first thing in the morning paired with your - somewhat - lovely best friends. They spent the entire morning bickering, but still, it was a pleasant start to the morning.

Entering the school gates, you heard Yunjin beside you say, “Guys, get a good look. This is the last first day of high school we’re going to have.”

Taehyun rolls his eyes, “Literally makes no difference at all. We’ll see this shithole for another year.”

“Do you always have to contradict what I say?” She huffs to which Taehyun happily nods and you laugh at the entire situation.

“What lesson do you all start with?” You ask. “I have Chemistry with Mr Kim.”

“Same,” your friends say in unison, so you make your way to Chemistry, listening intently to the bickering that continues.

Straight away, your teacher puts you in a seating plan, despite the many complaints against it. You get placed at the back corner, the seat beside you remaining empty for now while Yunjin sits a few rows ahead of you to your left and Taehyun sits one seat ahead of you.

Quickly, the class begins to get full but your eyes linger on a certain nuisance strutting into the classroom.

Mr Kim informs him of his seat, which he begins striding to in his tampered version of the school’s uniform that everyone seems to think looks “cool”. Only until he stands right beside you do you realise that his seat is the one right next to you.

“Hi partner,” Jake smiles at you, before taking a seat.

“There has to be some kind of mistake,” You say, raising your hand to protest against this act of horror.

Jake brings his own hand up to pull yours down, “You know how Mr Kim is, he’ll assign you a detention if you make a fuss. He’s short tempered, I learnt that the hard way so trust me.”

You pull your arm away from Jake’s hold, “He’s short tempered with students like you, not honour students like me.”

“Okay, snobby much. You’ll have to lose that characteristic of yourself if you wanna be friends. Or more?” He winks at you, causing your face to deform in disgust.

Jake laughs at the way you cross your arms, “Relax, Jaeyun. I have no interest in you.”

“We’ll see.”

The rest of the lesson is spent working with Jake rather than working against him, since he’s good at Chemistry, which isn’t a surprise as you were aware that science was his strong suit.

The only issue is the amount of jokes he’s made about you and him having Chemistry; they just get worse every single time, too.

“See you on Wednesday, Y/n,” Jake smiles at you. Seeing the way his lips curl into a sweet smile forces you to smile back at him even if it’s against your will, but you catch yourself rather quickly and scoff at him before leaving with your friends.

Yunjin and Taehyun drag you to your usual bench in the school, forcing you to take a seat as they also take a seat to sit in front of you and immediately begin questioning you.

Yunjin is the first to start, “Wow, Y/n. After years of judging me for finding Jake attractive, here you are flirting with him the whole lesson.”

“I was not!” You exclaim in disbelief.

Taehyun slings an arm around your shoulder, “Y/n, I sit in front of you. I heard all of the jokes he made.”

“Yeah, then you also heard the way I told him to be quiet after every single one of his corny ass jokes. He’s a little shit.”

“A little shit who has you wrapped around his finger already,” Yunjin and Taehyun high five.

“I never thought Jake would be the reason why you two are agreeing for once,” You say. “In all honesty, looks and science are his only strong points which is why he uses them for his personal gain. The amount of hearts he’s probably broken in the space of two weeks is probably more than people I’ve ever spoken to in my entire life.”

Contradicting their previous statements, your two best friends nod at this and cease their teasing because it was true, Jake was too much of a flirt. He’s always had that reputation about him; the one where his choice of words can make anyone swoon for a while, until he’s bored of them. Especially if he uses that smile of his, he could get away with anything.

But not with you. You weren’t like that. Not the type to be swayed by his antics.

Perhaps, it was because school had always been your main priority so you never really had time to be distracted by guys like Jake and now that it was your senior year, there definitely wasn't enough time to get distracted by Jake. He just wasn’t worth it.

Or so you thought.

You found now that Jake would always be sitting in his seat before you in Chemistry, greeting you with that smile of his every single time, and even going as far as pulling out your chair for you just like a gentleman would.

“Save it, Jaeyun. We all know that being a gentleman isn't your thing.”

“Of course it is. How do you think I get all the women to fall for me?” He has a response for everything.

“Well, that definitely won't happen this time, Jaeyun,” you remark, smiling teasingly at him.

He pauses for a moment which causes you to look at him - he wasn't the type to pause after something like that.

Jake has a smirk plastered on his lips, “No one else calls me Jaeyun. Why do you call me that?”

With a sigh, you respond, “Because, I know all your playthings call you that, so it would seem inappropriate to call you the name that they do, as I definitely am not one of your playthings.”

He simply just laughs and calls you a nerd under his breath.

“Have you heard about the cupid thing that’s going to happen?” He asks you.

It was called the Cupid Fantasy Draft and it was all Yunjin could talk about for the last three days. The Cupid Fantasy Draft was an odd occasion that your classmates were organising in which there would be students paired together and they would go on dates and stuff for the entire year. You thought it was a silly idea as it was basically forcing people to date, but Yunjin argued that it was a good idea since people could get to know others easier. You didn't argue with it that much since you knew you wouldn't get picked.

“Yes, I have. Stupid idea.”

Jake groans, “Do you have to be so boring all the time? Have some fun once in a while. You never know, you might get picked.”

This causes you to pry yourself away from your books to look at Jake with a stare that seems to catch him off guard.

“Even if someone is dumb enough to pick me, they can’t force me to go to it.”

Once again, he responds to you with, “We’ll see. Did you know that this cupid date is also your valentine? So you don't have to worry about being lonely on Valentine's day like you always have been!”

“Ha ha,” You mock. “Are you even doing this thing?”

“Of course.”

You laugh, “This doesn’t seem like your type of thing. Isn’t this too restricting for you?”

A deep frown washes his face, “What do you mean by that?”

“Aren’t you used to dating two people a day? Why the sudden change of heart?”

Jake shrugs, “Maybe, I’ve met someone.”

To this, you feel a small hit to your chest at the thought of Jake with someone else but you easily brush it off, “Yeah, right.”

What the hell was that?

At lunch, your friends are conversing about the Cupid Fantasy Draft happening later that evening - just like they have been for days now - while your nose is buried into a romance book to make up for the ever so slight damage to your heart in Chemistry. The aim of the romance novel was to remind you that Jake Sim was not worth being hurt over, and instead the fictional character showering his beloved in endless amounts of affection was causing you to swoon.

You’re pulled away from your fictional fantasy by a voice calling you, “Y/n! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Jake stands behind you, with Sunghoon and Jay to his side, sending you friendly smiles.

“What do you want, Jaeyun?”

He holds out a familiar pen. It was one of your favourite pens, designed with a bear and had a sweet scented smell to add to the speciality of the pen.

“How did you get this?” you attempt to snatch it away, but Jake is quick to snatch it back.

“I took it in Chemistry, it looked cute,” He smiles and brings it up to his face to smell it. “Smells nice, too.”

“Very funny. Give it back, now. That’s my favourite pen.”

He shakes his head, mockingly, “It can’t be your favourite if you didn’t even notice I took it.”

You huff in annoyance, “That’s because I was rushing to get out of the class so I could get away from you.”

Jake jokingly puts his hand on his chest and rubs it to pretend he’s in pain due to your comment, before placing the pen in his pocket, “I’m sure you’ll be fine for a few hours without it. Come to the Fantasy Draft and you’ll get it back.”

Not missing the opportunity to wink flirtatiously, he turns on his heels with his friends and leaves.

Your protests against the event had no effect on your friends, who dragged you out of the comforts of your bedroom, completely wasting your perfect night of studying. Yunjin even went to the effort of picking out an outfit for you and tricking you into putting it on by pretending she needed inspiration of her own.

“If I come to this thing and none of you get picked, I’m going to lose my shit,” You warn as you walk up to the door of the house that it was taking place at. “Whose place even is this?”

Your question is answered by an immediate swing of the front door opening, revealing Jay in black jeans and a cream jumper.

It was nice to see him in a different colour for once. It made sense that this was his home - you noticed the Porsche parked in the driveway along with the three story house.

“Hey, come in,” He says, leading you through the house, “It’s about to start, so you’re on time.”

Your eyes search Jay’s large mansion looking house until they meet a familiar individual.

You take notice of the girl sitting at his side, recognising her from walking around the hallways at school.

Without taking another look at him, you take a seat on the couch and Yunjin follows.

“Jake strikes again,” She says, staring at the girl beside him who's too busy giggling at whatever he’s saying to notice you staring her down.

“Expected.”

That feeling from Chemistry seemed to make its way back, you felt your chest ache slightly. But again, you pushed it away just in time for Jay to return and for the Cupid Fantasy Draft to start.

Jay takes a seat at the centre and begins explaining the rules, “Listen, I don’t know who made this idea but I’ll just go through the rules and shit. We go in order and you pick someone who is “yours” for the entire year. Get it?”

There are no interruptions, causing the event to commence.

Jay goes first, and soon it goes around in a circle - with Yunjin and Taehyun surprisingly getting picked - until the last one left is Jake.

His turn makes everyone stop and listen. You weren’t the only one surprised that he was taking part in this event, so you knew people would be talking about the lucky pick all year round. After all, it was known that he wasn’t the type to stick to one person, so it was extremely shocking that he was going to choose someone to spend the entire senior year with.

Taehyun leans in to whisper in both yours and Yunjins ears, “Betting 10 that he’ll choose Y/n.”

You shove his arms and moments after, Jake smirks at you, “I choose Y/n.”

Your face drops. Your heart, however, is jumping in happiness while an entire population’s worth of butterflies fly around in your stomach. Fighting the urge to smile at him is almost as irresistible as him.

Fuck, he’s got me, you think to yourself.

Everyone’s eyes are fixated on you as you leave the room, running up the stairs until you enter one of the many rooms of Jay’s place.

There were far too many thoughts running through your brain right now.

Jake Sim, Sim Jaeyun. He chose you for the Cupid Fantasy Draft?

A feeling of sickness started to rise within you. Why, why, why. You probably had a bounty written on yourself now without even knowing the reason why Jake had picked you.

A knock on the door brings you away from the millions of thoughts imprisoning you.

“Y/n?” Yunjin’s voice is clear as day and you open the door. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know. This is so random,” You respond, putting your head in your hands.

Yunjin nods, “Look. Even though Taehyun and I have made so many jokes over the last two months about you and Jake, we both know how he is and to be honest, even though Taehyun somewhat a predicted it, he’s shocked as fuck right now. We all knew Jake would have picked someone tonight but for some reason, I still thought he wasn’t going to take this seriously.”

“What if he isn’t?” You question. “What if he’s just using me as a plaything?”

“Well, Y/n, you’re smart enough to know when that’s happening.”

She’s wrong though. Over the last two months, you’ve enjoyed your jokes and snarky comments with Jake but most of all, you’ve had memorable conversations, too.

From favourite ice cream flavours to biggest fears in life, you’ve enjoyed every single bit of it, so it was hard to tell if he was really using you. There was something about the way your conversations flowed that made you think Jake was beginning to open up to you. Now, thinking about it, you felt silly for perhaps blurring the line between Jake being a good talker and him genuinely having an interest in you.

Then again, he had picked you for the draft. This was all too confusing, all too much for only your brain to handle alone.

“Yunjin, I have something to tell you.”

Right there and then, you explain the last two months and how with Sim Jaeyun, time means nothing since he’ll have you wrapped around his finger whenever he wants.

By the end of the night, both you and Yunjin have opened the snack drawer in the room you’re in and have discussed quite a lot: Jay, what to do about Sim Jaeyun and how to exit Jay’s mansion without getting caught.

Right now, you’re on the third part where Yunjin is standing guard at the front door and keeping an eye out for Jake or his comrades.

You rush down the stairs, just about to leave the door until…

“Y/n! Jake’s been looking everywhere for you,” Sunghoon puts an arm around your shoulder and drags you to the living room as Yunjin mouths an apology to you.

Once again, your eyes meet Jake’s figure. Only this time, he doesn’t have a companion stuck to his side. Instead, he has a drink in his hand that’s resting on the rip in his jeans and he looks bored to death. Again, hope begins to rise within you.

He looks up and jumps to his feet, “I thought you left.”

“I tried to,” you admit, making Jake laugh heartily.

He beckons to the door, “Let’s get out of here.”

You follow Jake, preparing to yell at him for his actions tonight but your anger disappears when he takes your hand in his and leads you out of the door and into his car. You can feel how cold his fingertips are from previously holding the cup in his hand, but you don’t seem to mind it at all.

Sitting at the driver’s seat, your eyes focus on his face. His nose is perfectly curved, accentuating the other features of his face such as his lashes that lay flat against his eyelids to match the shape of his eyelids. You’ve taken notice of this over the months; watching the way they crinkle when he laughs and the giggle leaves his lips.

“Soooo,” he breaks the silence and tilts his head to look at you.

“Don’t “soooo” me, Jaeyun. What on earth are you playing at? And, where’s my pen?” Even though you’re asking in such an angry tone, Jake can’t help but giggle at how endearing you can be sometimes.

He reaches into his pocket and passes you your pen, “Here. I don’t know what you’re talking about, by the way. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

He’s right, but you still argue, “You knew I didn’t want to be picked tonight, and you did it anyway. Why?”

Jake shrugs, “I took it as a challenge earlier. I thought it would be fun, too.”

Your eyes roll, “Is that all that matters to you?”

He nods, “Is there something wrong with that? Plus, this way we can do useful things that I’m sure are appealing to you, like study dates.”

There goes your heart doing backflips again. Dammit, Jaeyun.

“You don’t have to say yes, you know. You said so yourself that nobodies forcing you to do this. But, I’m just saying that I heard you needed help for Physics and I’m the man for it,” Jake informs you.

That was true, Jake had won every Physics award that existed at school. A few years back, he had even competed nationally and gotten first place.

“As long as you don’t call it study dates, we’re on,” You say, much to both his and your surprise.

“The only catch is,” He says, “You can’t fall in love with me.”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “As if it was possible, Sim.”

Lie. Your heart was evidence of it.

Jake decides to take you on a quick drive, switching from driving fast and slow just to get a panicked reaction from you to amuse himself.

He parks outside a homely cafe, and exits the car without a word. Seconds later, he opens your door and helps you out with his hand reached out again. You were never one to deny affection from good looking guys.

The cafe owner greets him immediately, “Jaeyun!”

Jake rushes behind the counter and embraces the woman in a tight hug as you watch in shock, your mouth agape but still feeling the warmth radiate from the sight ahead of you.

The woman leaves the hug to look at you standing near the door, a smile creeping on her lips as she looks at Jake for an explanation.

“Y/n, this is my mum,” Jake says, almost sheepishly if that was possible for him.

Your eyes widen as you manage to stutter out, “Nice to meet you, Mrs Sim.”

Why the hell has he taken me to meet his mother right now, you think to yourself. He literally just told me not to fall in love with him, and he’s making me meet his mother of all people?

Jake excuses himself to wash his hands, leaving you and his mother alone. She calls you over with a warm smile.

“Do you want anything to eat?”

You search the menu and end up choosing a milkshake.

“So, are you Jaeyun’s partner?” She asks you.

You shake your head, and she frowns, “That’s a shame. You seem like a nice person . I always hoped the one he would bring to me would be the one he was going to marry.”

Pause.

You were the first one out of the hundred that got to meet his mother? There was no way. Why was he being so confusing?

Jake appears into the room with a smile, “Mum, we’ll take whatever to go. Y/n and I have a few plans for tonight.”

His mum smiles at him, “Bring her more often. I wanna meet her properly.”

Jake’s ears go bright red as he nods, giving his mum a kiss on the cheek before leaving with you.

This couldn’t be possible; this had to be one big nightmare.

“Your mum is very pretty,” you tell him and he smiles at you.

“She reminds me of you.”

Your heart is thumping again, so loud that you’re worried he’s able to hear it. You wonder how he can casually say this and then turn back to whatever he’s thinking about.

“Shut up, Sim.”

You decide not to ask what it is that reminds him of her in you, but instead you bask in the comfortable silence lingering the soft breeze while Jake drives to your next destination of the night.

He lets down your window so that the air can hit your face. He has the perfect view of your eyes fluttering close due to the comfort of how it feels against your skin. Your breath is hitched in your throat, in the most relaxing way ever. As Jake speeds up, you find his hand in yours in an almost reassuring manner; it’s as if he’s letting you know he won’t hurt you, as long as you don’t let him close enough.

Pushing all your anxious thoughts away for later, you decide to enjoy this moment with Jake and the milkshake in the hand that Jake wasn’t holding. It simply felt right to you, more right than anything ever did for a long time.

Jake takes you to a small hill that you both climb together, hand in hand since he says he’s worried that you’ll fall because of the dark which seems like an excuse that you don’t question.

You look at the view ahead of you; you’re encapsulated by it. It’s at a perfect position in the city, there's a perfect sight of all the enormous edifices lit by the hundreds of lights in each of their buildings and the moonlight hitting it square in the middle to only accentuate the beauty further. It takes your breath away so well that you forget Jake is pulling you to sit beside him.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” He says, softly to which you nod. “I don’t bring many here, even though you probably think I do. This is my place for when I feel anxious or something.”

You look at him, and see that not only are the enormous edifices benefitting from the light of the orb in the sky, but Jake is too. He looks mesmerising under the moonlight.

“That’s shocking, Jaeyun,” You remark. “Didn’t know you felt anxious.”

He nods, “There’s a lot about me that you don’t know.”

You notice that it’s true, all you knew was that Jake was trouble and the small details he began to tell you in your Chemistry lessons. You were intrigued to learn more about him.

“Do you feel anxious right now?” You question.

Jake hesitates, “A bit.”

You nod, squeezing his hand to comfort him, but it was also for yourself. You needed to figure out the boundaries between you and Jake.

You don’t know how it happens, but you spend almost three hours sitting with Jake. Half of it was spent in silence, enjoying watching the city work ahead of you while the other half was spent learning small facts about one another.

A cursed yawn from you brings Jake’s attention away from the warm night and asks to take you home, much to your dismay.

He parks in front of your dorm, “It was a fun night, Y/n. I’ll see you at school tomorrow. Oh, and you have to come to my soccer practice tomorrow.”

“I have to?” You giggle.

He nods, “It’s part of the negotiations.”

You hum in response, walking off into your dorm.

You expected yourself to be a mess as soon as Jake left, but for some reason, you slept better than you did in months as you anticipated the sight of Jake in a soccer jersey.

2. I GOT THIS ANXIOUS FEELING, BUT IT GOES AWAY FOR A MINUTE WHEN I’M WITH YOU BREATHING.

You’ve been at your desk for hours, a coffee placed somewhere in the clutter of it all, seven books are laid out in front of you and not a single one of them makes any sense. You’re starting to see shapes in the paint of your walls and that’s when you decide to head off to bed.

As soon as you reach the comfort of your bed, there’s a ring at the doorbell.

Groaning, you stomp to your door where you see Jake with his hood covering most of his face that’s staring at your cat slippers.

“Nice slippers,” He comments, to which you smell alcohol leaving his mouth.

“Thanks. What are you doing here? Have you been drinking?” You ask, pulling him into your dorm.

You watch as he takes off the hood of his sweater, revealing a scar on his lip along with a bruised up eye. Gasping, you move closer to him to assess the wounds on his face.

“How did this happen?” You ask as you rush to your cupboards for disinfectants.

Jake takes a seat at your counter and begins to explain, “Jay, Sunghoon and I were having some fun when this girl's boyfriend got mad that I dated his girl before him and started to fight me. You should see him, though.”

He lifts his arm to show how his knuckles are bruised up, to which you kiss your teeth at.

Rather than telling him about how maybe this wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t dated so many people, you focus on cleaning his wounds and treating them.

Jake winces when the disinfectant touches his cuts, but allows you to keep cleaning. You only put plasters on them since thankfully, none of the cuts are bad enough to stitch them.

His eyes start to wander along your face so he brings up a finger of his to trace along your features which he decides he’ll blame the alcohol on tomorrow morning.

Before you die of a heart attack, you pull away from his touch, and pass him two ice packs; one for his eye and another for his knuckles, you also lead him into your living room. where you simply stare at the marks on his face until he gets awkward.

“It’s not that bad,” he assures you, rubbing your knee.

“You might wanna tell that to your face.”

He giggles before wincing again and straightening the plaster on the corner of his lips.

You don’t ask him why he’s come to your place, but instead, you grab a blanket from your room and place it over him to make sure it’s known that he can stay here for the night.

As you’re about to leave and walk off to your bedroom, Jake grabs your wrist gently.

“Stay,” He pleads.

That’s all it takes for you to lay in his arms, with one of your hands reaching up to play with his brown locks, causing his eyes to flutter open and close and for his breathing to get heavier.

Just as he’s about to sleep, Jake inches forwards and presses his lips onto yours. The metallic taste of his blood mixes with your saliva, but it’s not enough to make you pull away from your kiss.

The kiss is deep, with both of you not wishing to pull away anytime soon. It leaves both of you breathless and you’re sure that Jake can now taste the cherry lip balm that you applied on your lips. The kiss makes you feel like you’re in the clouds and your head is filled with nothing but Jake.

It feels like years have passed when you both pull away from the kiss, panting and pressing foreheads together.

“Y/n,” Jake breaks the silence and you hum as a response. “There’s something about you that makes me want to change. Don’t leave me.”

It was definitely the alcohol coursing through his veins that urged him to say this. Seeing Jake vulnerable was oddly your favourite version of him, he was always so soft with you and that was the time when he was the most open. For some reason, he kept this side of himself closed off but you didn’t argue with being the only one who saw this side of him, even if it wasn’t frequent.

Clearly, that was the side of you that had become completely infatuated by him over the last few months. Honestly, every moment with him had changed you for the better.

He somehow was always able to bring those stress levels of yours down in every way he could; whether it was taking you on a drive with the wind and Jake taking your breath away, or coming over with ice cream. Or even just coming over to talk with you just helped.

You press a kiss to his cheek and wrap your arms around him to hug him tightly until you fall asleep in his arms that hold you close to his chest where you both felt a sense of security even if you knew he wouldn’t remember this in the morning and that by the time you woke up, there would be a blanket draped over your shoulders with no sight of Jake.

3. I CAN TASTE IT, MY HEART’S BREAKING.

“You ready?” Jake pops out of nowhere, creeping up on you while you're packing up to leave the suffocating Math class.

Before you can even get a word out, he’s helping you pack up by snatching all your things and hoisting it over his shoulder.

“Jaeyun! Give me my things,” You scold him.

He shakes his head, “No, you’re taking too long. You can pack up when we’re sitting on the bleachers on the soccer field!”

Shoot, you forgot he had soccer practice today. This new routine with him wasn’t easy getting used to. Especially, since his reminders were done by force rather than nice texts at the beginning of the day that would have definitely been more helpful and effective.

He still manages to have space to hold your hand with a few fingers, even with many of your belongings in his hands; but you noticed over the months that Sim Jaeyun enjoyed physical contact.

Now, you still had thoughts wondering if it was the vulnerable Sim Jaeyun that enjoyed always having a hold of you, or the generic one that was available to everyone. Either way, all you knew was that it made your heart run a thousand miles per second.

It was funny; you saw the eyes always watching your movements when Jake was with you. The envy was heavy in the air, but you never seemed to care. Everything else was unimportant when Jake was with you.

“When does practice end today? I have plans” You jokingly whine, to which Jake snaps his head towards you, displaying the small pout on his lips.

“It’ll end at 9, so you better cancel those plans.”

“What?! You’re practising for 6 hours?”

Now, Jake laughs, “No, we’re going on a date afterwards.”

Your ears perk up at this, “Where?”

“Not to worry for now, angel,” He presses a kiss on your cheek as he sits you down on the bleachers and returns your belongings while he makes way to the changing rooms.

Angel, angel, angel. All you can hear is the pet name he kept for you, echoing in your ears like a love song on repeat.

Seeing as Jake and his friends liked to take centuries to get changed in their jerseys, you decided to keep yourself busy whilst burying your nose into a book when more people started joining you on the bleachers - one in particular catching your eye and that being a girl named Choi Heejin. You knew of her, but not properly since she didn't go to the same school as you. You also knew that she was Jake’s longest plaything, hence why she had been sending you dirty looks as she took a seat.

Feigning no sense of fear, you watch Jake and his friends walk onto the court and the sound of Jake’s laugh rings through the almost empty field, bringing a smile to your face.

Jake runs over to you, handing you his bag. You watch him glance at Heejin, displaying a somewhat shocked expression which you could tell he was doing his best to conceal.

“Heejin, what are you doing here?”

“I came to watch, like old days,” Heejin smiles at him, her eyes radiating nothing but horrid intentions. Jake nods, taking in her words.

“Well, it definitely won't be like old times, since I have Y/n here with me.”

Jake innocently smiles at you, leaving a peck on your lips before running off back with the guys.

Contrary to what you said before, there certainly was something bothering you about the way this girl was staring at you, but after Jake’s act before, you felt a lot more at ease.

Unfortunately, you had hoped to forget her presence but it seemed that she just had to cheer every time Jake had scored or done something remotely rewarding.

This only just irked your temper, causing you to look at her with the dirtiest look you could muster up.

“Something wrong?” She drawls.

“Only the fact that you’re drooling over Jaeyun when he told you that there’s no chance of him getting back with you.”

She cackles, literally cackles, in your face, “Jaeyun, huh? I thought I was the only one who called him that.”

As much as you try not to show it, you’re sure she sees your face drop.

What on earth did she mean by that?

She only continues to stab you with her words, “Do you really think he means what he said? What, because he’s been with you for a few months? Are you two even dating yet?”

You don’t say anything; no you and Jake weren’t dating but that didn’t mean this wasn’t serious. Did it?

Pleased with the damage she’s done, she gets up and grabs her things, “Well, tell Jaeyun my number hasn’t changed. I’m sure he remembers it - he’s always been good with numbers.”

You stare ahead as she leaves and you can feel the tears brim your eyes as Jake makes his way over, her eyes repeating in your head over and over again. A feeling of sickness rose in your stomach, you felt stupid for even falling for Jake and thinking he would fall for you even in this time. After all, he had told you not to fall for him and here you were, two months away from Valentine’s day with your heart only full with him. It was insane that one could have this much of an effect on you; it was as if the air you breathed in was just Jake. Only Jake. Everything was about him, Sim Jaeyun, your Jaeyun.

But it wasn’t supposed to be, he specifically told you not to. Perhaps this was all part of his plan when he had chosen you for that stupid cupid draft.

You didn’t expect Jake to be running after you but as soon as he gets close enough, Jake immediately wraps his hand around your wrist to bring you to a halt and spins you around to look at him, “Y/n, stop.”

You’re panting when you stop, tears falling down your face uncontrollably that you’re sure are burning into your cheeks. Jake tries to pull you into his arms, but you reject this notion which definitely catches him by surprise judging by the way his eyebrows raise.

“She called you Jaeyun, you said I’m the only one who called you that.”

“Y/n, that was a very long time ago.”

As if that makes it any better. Millions of questions flow through your brain, all wondering almost the exact same thing and you question whether the thought has actually left your head since the day you felt some sort of adoration towards Sim Jaeyun: what am I to him?

So, there goes it.

“What am I to you?” The second the question leaves your mouth, all the strength that you had disappeared and turned into the nerve-wracking sick feeling reappearing in the pits of your stomach.

“I already told you a while ago, Y/n. This is nothing, we are nothing to one another” his words cut you deeper than anything you’ve ever felt before. Deeper than Heejin’s only moments ago.

This was an unexplainable type of pain. Seeing Jake’s eyes look at you coldly, as if he’s disappointed at the fact that you’ve fallen for him just like everybody else. As if the time you’ve spent together has meant absolutely nothing. Then again, this was Sim Jaeyun you were talking about. Of course, none of it meant anything - all the things he said to make you feel special and loved were nothing to him. You were a fool for thinking otherwise even for a second.

The pair of you only stare at each other with every passing moment, looking at one another until you simply can’t recognise the person in front of you, which ultimately brings you to turning away from Sim Jaeyun forever.

4. I KNOW I’LL FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU, BABY. AND THAT’S NOT WHAT I WANNA DO. (JAKE POV)

There was something about the way conversations flowed so easily when I spoke to you. It always led to me wanting more, craving more. Half the time, I didn’t even notice what I was saying until it was too late. But still, there wasn’t the usual feeling of when one overshares. No. Instead, I had felt a strange comfort hug me like a warm, snug air wrapping its arms around me and telling me that everything was going to be alright.

It was odd and unfamiliar to the point where I would feel uncomfortable by all the foreign comfort. I had never felt something like that before.

Often, I would find myself sitting at the top of the hill late at night and staring at the busy city in an attempt to drag my mind away from you. Even so, my thoughts were being invaded by only you, it was so suffocating in the best way possible. All my attempts and not loving you were futile after years of pushing people away, all it took was a single lesson for you to draw my attention. And that was by far the scariest thing I had ever experienced in my entire life. It was enamoring; you were simply enamoring.

I thought it must have been the alcohol that possessed me to choose you for the Cupid Fantasy Draft, but by the end of the night, I came to realise that it was my heart speaking for me. For once, my heart had knocked my brain out of the way and took control but something about it had felt so right even though every single bone in my being was urging me to resist. This was the first time in a while that I felt as though everything was right as it should be. The Cupid Fantasy Draft was the perfect opportunity for me to win you, so I took that opportunity. It would be a lie if I said that I didn’t know how in love with you I would get, but there was nothing I could do about it. I had let it overcome me until it was the only thing I was consuming.

Until, the dreaded moments when you weren’t beside me and I convinced myself that this was going too far and for some reason, I was thankful for warning you about me. You didn’t deserve it, you were far too precious for the ruins of me. You deserve someone better and I was going to make sure it had happened, even if it broke me. Which it did.

Along the way, there were times where I needed you and only you. My heart began to ache when you were not near, the oxygen around me began to seem inefficient because I was not breathing the scent of whatever perfume you had on and for that, my lungs were poisoned by the fumes of an unimportant air, an air that didn't have anything to do with. I began to rely on you for my ultimate survival - I only felt alive with you near me, with your hand in mine. There was no part of me that cared how it looked, or that my persona was being thrown away, until it was too late.

For a while, I contemplated being selfish and letting you completely in. I wondered what it would be like to show the feelings I had for you and to let myself love you and only you. I almost began to convince myself, but it was for the better that I was not 100%. The small percentage of me that was reluctant had saved you from me in the end.

When I saw Heejin that day, it was like a blast from the past; a reality check. This wasn’t who I am, I wasn’t supposed to be with you. You shouldn’t be with someone who only hurts you. I knew Heejin wasn’t just a reminder to me, but to you, too - which was why I had let her stay that day at the soccer practice. It was an impulsive idea that turned out for the better. Although I don’t know what she said that day, I knew whatever caused you to run out the fields that day had done my job for me. Perhaps that was me being lazy, perhaps that was me taking the easy way out, but the good part was that it started off what was pulling you away from me.

I had never felt my heart ache so much after seeing the tears stream down your face, the ache only worsening as time went on and I couldn’t do anything to resolve it but rather, the things I was about to do were probably going to make it even worse. I’m sure it did; I didn’t expect it to be easy after all this time but I had to remain heartless and strong with this last moment.

Watching you walk away had to have been the hardest thing I had ever encountered; the feeling of emptiness being the only thing I could feel for days on end afterwards and rejecting human contact until I could feel something. I longed to see your lips turn upwards to smile widely at me, pulling me into an everlasting enchantment. I longed to be suffocated by your endless love. Wasn’t that strange?

5. CRYBABY.

The soft rain pattered against the window of the cafe that you were sitting at, Valentine’s Day decorations displayed all around the grand shop.

Everything was blooming with love along with the freshness of the spring air flowing through your nostrils, sending a rejuvenating chill down your body. With a smile, you rested your chin on your palm whilst awaiting your date to come and whisk you away.

The bells on the door caught your attention, making you spin around with a smile on your face and your eyes glistening with sparkles.

The excited look on your face only dims when you see the wide smile on his pink lips as he walks in. Your eyes immediately notice the new bright blond locks of his hair flattened against his forehead, and his dark brown orbs finally meeting yours.

Your mouth is open agape, as you stare at the boy at the door while he stares at you as well.

For a moment, you turn back around, as if to dismiss that shared moment with one another and ignore the way the world had paused for you two but the universe must have other plans since Jaeyun walks over to your table and takes a seat in front of you.

Although it's only been a few months, the feeling of being sat with one another is so unfamiliarly strange, until he cracks that smile, “How do you like my hair?”

“It suits you,” You say admiring the colour on him. “Why are you here, Jake?”

Ouch. His heart sinks, evidently since his smile falters.

“Jake, huh?” You swear you hear his voice break.

You almost laugh at him, “Well, I figured I should call you what your playthings called you, since I was one of them, after all.”

“Y/n-”

“Save it. There’s nothing left to say,” You shrug, taking your things. “I don’t know why you’re here, nor do I care. But, leave me alone.”

As you walk out of the shop, the bell announcing your departure, Jake follows after you.

“Y/n, let me explain!” He calls after you.

Your bag is slung over your head to stop the rain from hitting your face annoyingly until Jake drapes his hoodie over your head, revealing his bare arms from the white tee shirt he's wearing. Immediately, the smell of his cologne wafts through your nostrils, sending you in half a trance and halting your movements. In that moment, you’re back a few months ago when your entire being was enhanced by Sim Jaeyun.

“What is there left to say, Jake?” You scream into the rain. Jake stares at you, wondering if the droplets down your face are tears or the rain. Soon enough, he figures out that it's your tears, and there goes the stab feeling at his heart once more.

“I want this back,” Jake spits out. He runs a hand through his hair, catching his thoughts. “I can’t live without you. Every morning, I wake up to an empty feeling in my heart, the same feeling that I sleep with at night while I think only of you. You came into my life so suddenly, I didn’t realise how much I needed you. Well, I did, but I was so scared by it. When I found out you were going to be spending Valentine’s with someone else, I felt a part of me just.. break. I can’t do this without you. You have to believe me.”

Jake takes a step closer and takes your hand in his, awaiting your response to his serenade of love. It feels as though years have passed when you make a movement.

Pushing Jake's hand off yours, you whisper, “I’m sorry.”

The earnest, pleading look in his eyes almost convinced you to stay, but you knew better. You knew better than to fall for this again. You didn't doubt that Jake’s feelings for you were genuine, but you definitely questioned if they would end up in flames again. That was a risk you weren’t willing to take.

Ultimately, you were wiser than your heart therefore, you chose not to fall into the dark abyss of Sim Jaeyun again. It was a choice laced with agony and heartburn but it was a necessary choice for the sake of your heart.

You hoped that, one day, when Jake was better for you, he would be brought back to you as someone you could build something with. But, now was not the time.

Jake watches you walk away for the second time, knowing this time it’s definitely the last time. Pools of tears start to leave his eyes as he clutches his heart. With every step you take away from him, a piece of his heart is carried with you and he wondered if these pieces will ever return to him.

He wondered how cupid could be this cruel and if he could ever get over the mistake that lost him you. He knew that cupid’s mistake was going to leave a permanent imprint on his entire being for the rest of his life, but he knew it far too late.

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