#HIS ISSUES OF NOT BEING LISTENED TO ARE FINALLY BEING ADDRESSED | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starlightkun · 4 months

Text

❧ word count: 17.4k ❧ warnings: cursing ❧ genre: fluff, some mild angst, model jeno, journalist reader, reader is lowkey a bit of a jerk for some of it but for understandable reasons ❧ extra info: this is a reworked version of an old fic of mine that was about a former member. since i still really love the fic, i’ve made some (heavy) edits to re-release it about jeno instead. you can consider this the spiritual successor/an alternate universe to my sleepless cinderella series

You’d finally gone insane, you’d decided. Absolutely bonkers, completely crazy. After all, how else would you explain the fact that you were now kissing Jeno?

You felt absolutely pathetic. You were a journalist at a rather popular magazine, and your editor had finally entrusted you with a centerfold spot. So far, your word document for your article had less than a handful of words: your name. Writer’s block, and with only two months until copies were supposed to hit the shelves.

And so here you were, sitting on the small couch in your boss’ office, trying not to sound like you were whining to her. But you needed some sort of guidance. Ms. Zhang was sat on the other end of the couch from you, legs crossed, and round frames perched on the end of her nose as she thoughtfully listened to your rant.

Her voice was casual as she simply replied with, “Anything new in your life, Y/N?”

Which was a complete non-sequitur from your desperate plea for a subject. She really just wanted to make small talk while you were having an existential crisis?

Stunned, you blinked for a moment before answering, “Uh, not much. My roommate made me go out to this party a while ago.”

“That’s nice. Did you have fun?”

You were still completely unsure of why she wasn’t addressing your issue, but went along with it, nonetheless, “I guess.”

“Meet anyone?”

“Kind of. Seven someones, technically.”

“Oh?”

Realizing how that sounded, you grimaced to yourself before giving your boss an explanation of the actual situation. Your roommate NingNing had dragged you to the grand opening of a new nightclub, which she got an invite to thanks to her huge social media following. She was possibly the only actually down-to-Earth influencer you’d ever met—and you’d met plenty, thanks to her. The two of you had been friends since you were kids, before you entered into completely different lives as adults. You had a 9 to 5 while she was being paid insane amounts of money by luxury brands just to post a single photo of herself with their product.

The nightclub of course had a VIP section at the back, which NingNing was easily given access to, as well as you, her plus-one. It was there that you were introduced to Mark Lee, an up and coming young actor with a practically cult following online; Huang Renjun, an extremely popular video game streamer and YouTuber; Lee Jeno, an actual supermodel whose visage was across some of the biggest billboards in the city; Haechan, a pop star that you didn’t dare address by anything other than his stage name; Na Jaemin, another streamer and YouTuber who had recently been picked up for a modeling contract; Zhong Chenle, heir to the Zhong family fortune, whose family was involved in anything and everything to do with the entertainment industry and owned the nightclub; and Park Jisung, an influencer more in the same vein as NingNing, with millions of Instagram followers. Apparently, you had made a good enough impression that Chenle gave you your own pass to the VIP lounge—NingNing of course had her own, too.

At the end of your story, Ms. Zhang had a worryingly knowing smile across her lips, “You met seven celebrities in one night?”

“Do influencers and streamers really count as celebrities?”

“You met seven very popular men—three or four of whom are certifiable celebrities—in one night, have access to a private lounge they all frequent, and you still don’t have a subject for your article?”

Your jaw may have dropped slightly as you realized this. Immediately, your face turned hot as you refused the idea, “I don’t want to exploit them and make them uncomfortable somewhere that’s supposed to be free from that kind of stuff.”

She frowned as she shook her head, “I’m disappointed in you, Y/N. I thought you understood that journalism isn’t inherently exploitative.”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not—”

“Are you going to publish horrible rumors and tabloid things with private information they don’t want to be out there? Is that what we do here?”

“No, but they’re all going to think that’s what I’ll do.”

“Show them those assumptions are wrong. It’s all in the way you carry yourself. If you are honest and humble and make them feel comfortable, they should have no reason to doubt what kind of journalist you are.”

At this point, you felt like melting into the pinstriped couch cushions in shame. You shouldn’t have doubted your boss’ vision for her magazine or demeaned your own career. And now you’d made Ms. Zhang disappointed in you. You would’ve preferred her to have yelled at you.

All that was left was to make her proud.

Three days later and you still hadn’t returned to the lounge.

Honestly, you were just being a chicken. And a procrastinator. A procrastinating chicken.

Slumped into your armchair in your living room, you blankly zoned off into the distance as you listened to your playlist through an earbud. NingNing was perched on your kitchen table, feet swinging off the side as she edited some photos on her phone.

As she tapped away, you found your gaze fixating on the visage on the cover of a magazine that had been resting on your coffee table. Squinting your eyes curiously and tilting your head to the side, you asked, “He kind of looks like a dog, right?”

“Who?” Your roommate raised a concerned eyebrow as she peered over her phone screen at you.

“Lee Jeno.” You held up the magazine. “He kind of looks like a dog. Right?”

Your friend squinted at the cover then gave you that same look, “No, he doesn’t. Y/N, I think the sleep deprivation has finally gotten to you. You’re delirious.”

“No, I swear, he looks like a dog,” you insisted, pulling your earbud out to be able to better argue your point. “A very specific kind of dog, God, it’s on the tip of my tongue.”

“He doesn’t.”

You crossed your arms. “I bet the others would agree with me.”

“You want to go ask them?” She challenged. “Jisung texted me saying they were all going to be there again tonight.”

“If that’s what’ll convince you.”

“I have been begging you to go back for weeks, and now you’ve agreed to go back to ask them if they agree that Jeno looks like a dog?” NingNing scoffed incredulously.

“Yeah.”

“Alright, fine, you weirdo. Be ready to leave at midnight.”

When you arrived at the club, you immediately felt out of place again. You clung onto NingNing’s arm tightly as she confidently led the way through the crowd to the VIP lounge. She flashed a smile and her VIP pass to the bouncer outside the room, who nodded and stepped aside. As soon as the two of you entered the small room that consisted of one large rounded booth, you immediately regretted your decision. When NingNing said that everyone would be there, your brain hadn’t pieced together that ‘everyone’ included Lee Jeno, who perked up with interest as the two of you walked in.

Jeno eyed you curiously, an eyebrow raised, “So you came back.”

“Y/N has something really important to ask you guys,” NingNing announced, gesturing to you pointedly.

You felt like a deer in the headlights as all of them turned to look at you. Swallowing thickly, you avoided looking at Jeno as you tried to think of anything else to say.

“Sit down, let’s get you a drink first,” Jaemin kindly saved you, gesturing to the open space at the end of the booth seat.

NingNing sat down next to Mark, who had previously been at the end, and you scooted in after her. The circular table unfortunately made it so that you were looking directly at Jeno, who you couldn’t help but sneak glances at as your brain still stubbornly tried to remember what breed of dog he reminded you of. Another round was brought out for everyone, and you gratefully started sipping on yours.

It was when he smiled up at the waiter as he was handed his drink that it finally hit you. You had to bite down on your lip not to cry out in victory.

Chenle looked at you over his sunglasses—yes he was wearing sunglasses indoors at night, as he had been last time. He asked, “So what is this really important thing you have to ask us?”

You looked at NingNing desperately, but she just gave you a deliberate nod.

“Come on, Y/N, it’ll be fine.”

With a gulp, you gathered your courage to just fucking say it and get it over with. You still wanted to be right. “Okay, think about it really hard before you answer.”

They all nodded in assent, anticipating your question.

Taking a deep breath, you finally asked, “Doesn’t Jeno kind of look like a Samoyed?”

A couple of them seemed concerned for your mental state. The rest pondered your question whole-heartedly, brows furrowed as they studied the model. Jeno had a look of pure bewilderment on his face.

Finally, Haechan gasped, “Oh my God you’re right.”

“Thank you!” You sighed victoriously, looking over at NingNing smugly.

Jisung fervently searched something on his phone, eyes widening in shock, “Now that you’ve said that I can’t unsee it.”

“What? Let me see.” Chenle yanked the phone out of Jisung’s hand, holding a picture of a fluffy white Samoyed up to Jeno’s face.

The model tilted his head to the side in confusion, perfectly mimicking the picture on-screen. Chenle burst into loud, cackling laughter.

“Shit, he-he does!” Renjun declared between his own laughs.

Murmurs of agreement erupted around the table, and you were now fully vindicated. “Thank you! Thank you! NingNing didn’t agree with me so I had to come and—”

“No, I did,” she snickered. “It was just the only way to get you to come back. You’re a whole different person when you think you’re right.”

You tried to glare at her, but you were much too ecstatic at being proven right to really be all that mad.

Jeno looked about to open his mouth as Chenle giggled incessantly and started swiping through more search results of Samoyed pictures. A horrible sense of dread covered you like scalding candle wax. It was hot against your skin, thick, and you felt like you couldn’t move or breathe. You prayed to every deity you could think of that Jeno had a really good sense of humor and wouldn’t take offense to someone he had met twice saying he looked like a dog.

When Jeno’s gaze finally focused on you, you swore you had never wished to turn invisible more in your life than in that moment. Or make time stop. Or wake up and realize it was a dream. Anything to get you out of this situation. But you were absolutely petrified, all excitement from before completely eradicated from your being.

Then suddenly all tension was gone from the air as his eyes crinkled into crescents and his mouth parted wide to let out hearty guffaws.

You looked around in alarm, waiting for the hidden camera to be revealed or something. This couldn’t be real.

He managed to contain his laughter enough to choke out between chuckles, “That’s— that's really, really funny.”

Your wide eyes were focused incredulously on him as he caught his breath. Still with a grin on his face, he continued, “Oh my god, seriously that was fucking funny. I’m a cute Samoyed, right, Y/N?”

Utterly speechless. That’s what you were. And also staring at him, completely dumbfounded.

“I think you broke her, Jeno,” Renjun snickered, reaching a fist out as if he were about to knock on your forehead like a front door.

Instinctually, you smacked his hand away from your head, a scowl overtaking your features, “I’m fine, Renjun.”

“Then why can’t you look him in the eye?”

You pointed to yourself, “Normal person—” then to Jeno, “supermodel. I’m still not used to that.”

But Renjun was right, you couldn’t look Jeno in the eye, and your whole body was practically on fire. Honestly, how were you supposed to react to this situation? With grace and comfort? No way.

“What? Seriously?” Jeno scoffed, standing up from the booth to pointedly sit on your side of it. Directly next to you.

“I’m not that— Y/N, really? You’re actually scooting away from me?”

You hadn’t even realized that you’d shifted the opposite direction from him, pressed into NingNing’s side. Meanwhile, the others were all finding this spectacle absolutely hilarious, sharing annoying snickers and giggles.

Your face was burning, and despite your satisfaction at being vindicated, you were now regretting coming to the club at all.

“Can you guys stop? You don’t have to be so annoying,” Jeno scolded his friends, much to both yours and their surprise.

Haechan had a look of mild offense and disbelief across his face, “Being annoying comes as natural to us as being ridiculously attractive comes to you.”

“Speak for yourself!” Jaemin slapped Haechan’s arm as Chenle was practically howling with laughter.

While they were distracted among themselves, Jeno’s attention was focused back on you. If you could look him in the eye, you’d be able to appreciate the genuine concern held within them. But you couldn’t, so all you could do was hear the genuine concern in his voice as he said quietly, “Sorry about them.”

“You don’t need to apologize for them,” you reassured him, messing with your fingernails.

“Anyway, I can’t stand having you be terrified of me.”

“I’ll get over it,” you cleared the audible squeak out of your throat, “eventually.”

“Eventually...” Jeno didn’t seem satisfied with that qualifier you added at the end. “Are you busy today?”

“Uhm— I don’t know. Why?”

“We should hang out.”

“What?”

“The more you’re around me, the less scary I’m going to be to you. Right?”

“I guess.”

“Then we should start right now.”

Your throat nearly closed up at this suggestion. Especially because you realized that the room was dead silent. The others had ceased their squabbling and side conversations and were awaiting your response to this too.

So you did the thing that came most naturally to you: procrastinated the issue.

“Oh, well, it’s already after midnight—”

“Then tomorrow.”

“I’m going to be super busy for a while, I just got a really big assignment at work—”

“What do you do for work?”

“I’m a journalist. Just got centerfold and it’s going to make or break my whole career so it’s going to take up all of my time for the foreseeable future, so...”

Jeno was unfazed, “What’s the topic?”

“I-uh it’s...” you couldn’t even bullshit an answer at this point, your stupid tongue tripping over itself. “I don’t have one yet.”

NingNing just had to offer up her opinion right then, “Do it on Jeno!”

If you were a lesser person, you'd have strangled NingNing in that moment, because the model’s features lit up. He clearly liked this idea.

“Yeah! I would love to. If it’ll fit your guidelines or whatever, of course.”

You sighed, “It does...”

The socially anxious part of you absolutely hated this idea. But, the journalist part of you knew it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Gritting your teeth, you managed to look Lee Jeno dead in the eye and say, “I would love to interview you, Jeno. Thank you.”

“Uhm, Jeno?” Jisung speaking up stopped the wide grin that was spreading across his friend’s face. “Aren’t you like, banned from interviews or something?”

“Technically,” Jeno answered dismissively, not breaking eye contact with you.

“Technically?” You echoed in confusion. Were you just being messed with?

“Something… happened with the last in-depth interview I did a while ago,” he admitted sheepishly. “But! I’ll talk to my manager and get it cleared, I promise, Y/N!”

[jeno: manager han gave the okay for the interview! when can we get started?]

Your stomach contorted itself at the message that just popped up on your phone screen. Last night you’d left the lounge with a growing sense of dread and anxiety. And Jeno’s phone number.

[jeno: i have a fitting this afternoon but i'll be done in time to get dinner]

[jeno: if that works for you, of course]

[jeno: we can always start it another day, whatever is good for you!]

[jeno: do you want me to send you my schedule for the next few weeks to make it easier for us to get together?]

Your phone’s continuous buzzing with enthusiastic and sincerely kind messages from him caught the attention of NingNing, whose feet were currently resting on your lap as you shared your couch together.

“When did you get so popular?” She questioned teasingly, peering at you over her own phone screen.

“It's just one person,” you informed her.

“Who texts you that much in a row other than me?”

“Lee Jeno, apparently.”

“Y/N, you seem very unenthusiastic about this,” she declared with a thoughtful frown, completely abandoning her phone. “Isn’t this a really big break for you?”

“I’m still a little shocked,” you admitted. “And scared.”

She shoved you with her foot. “Well at least text him back.”

“Right.”

Not a great idea to leave him on read.

[you: a copy of your schedule would be great]

[you: and yes, i can do dinner tonight]

It was less than a minute later that he replied.

[jeno: here’s my schedule]

[jeno: attached image]

[jeno: and could you give me your address so i can drive you to dinner tonight? the place i have in mind is kind of hard to find if you haven’t been before]

A lot was happening right now. Too much for you to process. Good thing there was another brain in this room to help you process it.

“Hey, NingNIng?” You got her attention before thrusting your phone screen towards her so she could read the texts.

“Uh, three options here.” She pointed to a new finger for each one as she listed them off: “He’s ridiculously excited about this interview; he likes you; or he’s going to kill you.”

“So far the last one seems most likely.”

With a shake of your head, you sent him your address.

Your fingers anxiously tapped along your bouncing knee as you waited on your couch for the text from Jeno that he was here. He told you that the restaurant was just casual, but you weren’t sure that a model’s idea of casual wear was the same as yours.

Jeez, what were you doing? Getting dinner with and interviewing one of the most well-known models in the country? You were so out of your depth here.

A buzz came from your other hand that was tightly gripping your phone. An incoming call from Jeno. Maybe he was calling to cancel, and you could just keep rescheduling until you both gave up on the whole idea and you never showed your face in that VIP lounge again.

Answering it, your voice squeaked as you attempted to give him a casual, “Hello.”

“Hey, Y/N!” The bright voice of Lee Jeno came through your speakers. “I’m just parking now, I’ll be up in a couple minutes.”

“You don’t have to come up!” You told him a little too forcefully and quickly. Having Lee Jeno in your apartment would just be too much.

“I don’t mind—”

You leapt up from your couch and rushed towards your door, “Too late, I’m already on my way down.”

With a sharp hit of your thumb, you hung up. Pressing the down button on the elevator impatiently, you prayed that Jeno would just give up and wait in his car.

He didn’t.

The elevator doors opened to the lobby, with Jeno right outside them. In fact, you nearly slammed right into his chest, but thankfully he took a step back before you could actually collide.

His ‘woah!’ was muffled slightly by the dark face mask over his mouth, accompanying dark baseball somewhat successfully obscuring his identity. As long as you didn’t look too closely, he could be any other guy.

“I told you I’d just come down on my own.” You shook your head at him, eyes trained on your shoes.

“And I told you that I’d come up and get you,” he shot back smugly. “Seems like neither of us listen very well.”

With no response coming from you, Jeno took your silence as the cue to lead the way out to his car. It was nice, nicer than most cars you’d seen around, but surprisingly not that ostentatious. It looked like something a moderately successful businessman would drive, not an A-list model.

Inside was a comfortable leather interior, and you took quick, short notes on the small notepad you kept with you as you looked around. After all, this was an interview, and you had an article to write. You could get over your own social awkwardness and feelings of inferiority for the sake of your future career.

Hopefully.

The restaurant Jeno had chosen was definitely out-of-the way.

It was down one back alley into another, through the back of an electronics shop, up a flight of stairs, then through a room of old ladies sat at sewing machines. They all gave a friendly chorus of hellos to the two of you, seeming to know Jeno pretty well as they all told him that he’d grown since the last time he’d come by. He bowed to them bashfully as he led you through. Past the curtains on the far wall, you finally ended up at the restaurant.

Okay, out-of-the-way was an understatement.

But despite the hard-to-stumble-upon location of the restaurant, it seemed busy. The small room was tightly packed with tables that you could barely see through the mass of people seated around them and plates of food resting atop them. A loud buzz of various conversations mixed in with the bumping of plates and clattering of utensils.

Just past the entrance was a small host’s stand where a young boy stood. He looked to not be out of high school yet, presumably a young relative of the owners: their son, nephew, or grandson.

He also knew Jeno, bowing to him, “Ah, Mr. Lee. We have your reservation for you. Come.”

Jeno bowed back and looked to make sure that you were still following the two of them through the nearly claustrophobic environment.

You were, eyes drinking in every detail as your hand furiously scribbled them down on your notepad, muscle memory functioning at full speed to write every letter without looking away from the scene around you. There was one more curtain for you to go through, and it was much quieter on the other side. This was most likely a VIP section of sorts, with just a couple tables separated by a divider.

The host gestured to one of the two tables, and you gratefully sat down across from Jeno. He then took his hat and mask off, fingers working through his hair for a moment to rid it of the hat’s aftereffects.

“Thank you, Yeonwoo,” he thanked the host, which you repeated as well.

The boy, who you now knew to be named Yeonwoo, bowed politely to the both of you before scurrying off.

“You must come here often,” you commented, hand poised to write his response.

“My family and I came here a lot when I was younger. Since I started my career it’s been difficult to eat here as often as I did before. Especially because their food isn’t technically allowed in my diet,” he had a mischievous glint in his eye as then he added, “But you won’t tell on me, right?”

“Of course not, unless writing an article about you that will be published in a magazine counts as tattling,” you snorted, much to his delight.

He laughed, “Right, right. That’s pretty much the ultimate form of tattling, huh?”

“If it gets published, yeah. If not, then the only people who will know will be you, me, and my editor. And I suppose Yeonwoo and our server, as well.”

“Speaking of our server, there she is!” Jeno announced, making the young girl who was approaching your table blush behind her notepad. She was probably around Yeonwoo’s age, maybe a little older.

“Good evening,” she greeted the two of you politely. “My name is Jieun, I’ll be your server tonight. Are you ready to order?”

You were a bit confused by her question, you hadn’t been given any menus yet. But Jeno seemed completely unfazed.

“Two orders of my regular, please,” he requested sweetly, which she quickly scribbled down on her pad.

“Of course, it’ll be out soon,” she informed you before hurrying away.

He turned back to you, “Jieun is Yeonwoo’s older cousin, their grandparents own the restaurant.”

You added this to your notes as well. It could be nice to add in to set the scene and show how down-to-Earth Jeno was, knowing this family as well as his own and not forgetting his roots even as a big model. Or something like that, you’d figure it out eventually.

“So, interview questions?” He prompted you, bringing you out of your contemplative planning ahead. You’d write that up later.

“Earlier you had mentioned your family, tell me a bit about them. Brothers, sisters?”

Could you have looked that information up online and found it? Definitely, but you wanted it from the source, to see if he would provide you with anything that wasn’t already out there. And you wanted to get a feel of your subject.

“Well there’s my parents, my older sister, and me. They’re not famous or anything. My parents own a grocery store nearby, and my sister’s a teacher.”

“You took my next question right out of my mouth,” you clicked your tongue in teasing disappointment, continuing on with a different one. “You said you used to come here often with your family, what are some other things you miss from your childhood that you don’t do as often?”

Jeno’s face easily betrayed his delighted surprise, “Oh, I wasn’t expecting that one.”

“Hm?”

“That’s a good question. Normally I get asked about celebrity crushes or my ideal type.”

You tilted your head to the side curiously, “If you thought that I was just going to ask you the same questions you usually get asked, why did you offer for me to interview you?”

“Never mind, never mind, sorry.” He coughed awkwardly, then quickly went to get off that topic, “Uh, it might sound kind of weird, but I used to help out at my parents’ store a lot as a kid. It was my first job I ever had. As soon as I could reach the register on a high stool, they put me to work. It’s actually how I got scouted, for modeling. My manager now just happened to come through my line while I was on the register and gave me his card. I thought it was a scam, honestly. But Jaemin made me give him a call, and he turned out to be legit. Even if I had the time to help at the store now, I’d just be too much of a distraction if I tried. And trust me, I tried. Once. So yeah, I miss helping out there.”

The desire for an answer to your other question was still there, but it was a path that you didn’t want to go down right now. Right now was time for the interview. So you simply scratched down his statement about his parents’ shop, then shorthanded off to the side ‘why me?’ as you readied your next question.

“You knew Jaemin before you guys were famous?”

“Yeah, we’ve been friends forever.” A fond smile crossed Jeno’s face. “Seatmates since primary school. He blew up with streaming first before I got my break as a model, actually. Most people usually assume it’s the other way around.”

“And what about the others?”

As Jeno eagerly answered your questions and you filled up page after page on your notepad, there was still that one lingering in the back of your mind.

Why you?

Over the course of a couple weeks, you’d spent a considerable amount of time with Jeno. According to his schedule that he had sent you, every free moment he got was taken up by your interview. Sometimes it would be more formal, like your first dinner meeting, and sometimes it was more casual, get-togethers in the lounge with the other VIP members or a riverside walk that felt more like two friends talking than a professional interview. And it all went in your notes, it would all go in your article. This was going to be a great article. The real Lee Jeno when he’s relaxed, what he’s like off the runway.

Today was very special, however, as you’d been invited to tag along to one of his photoshoots. You were just outside the building housed at the address you’d been given when you were met by a young man whose stern gaze never left you. It seemed as if he had been waiting for you.

“Are you the journalist?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, completely skipping any greetings.

“Ah yes, Y/L/N Y/N,” you confirmed, nodding your head respectfully to him as you held out your VIP lounge card as proof. Jeno told you that would be your pass to get in.

The man only scrutinized the card for a moment before he pivoted on his heel, “Follow me.”

You kept his hurried pace easily, ready to ask him questions as well, “So what’s your job here?”

He took a moment to push open a door that then nearly closed on you before answering, “I’m Lee Jeno’s PA.”

“Oh, Song Eunseok!” The name easily came to your mind.

The PA’s eyes widened in surprise, “Jeno’s brought me up?”

“Of course he has! You’re with him pretty much all the time, how could he not mention you?” You flipped through your notebook to where you’d taken previous notes about him, “Here, I asked him to walk me through his typical day, and he mentioned ‘Seokkie’ like seven times.”

Eunseok physically grimaced at this, “I’ve requested that he not call me that.”

“Why? I think it’s a cute nickname.”

“Really?” His eyes were now trained on his shoes as opposed to his previous laser focus on the end of the hallway. Your eyes could’ve been playing tricks on you, but you swore the tips of his ears were tinged pink, too.

There was another door, and this time you definitely couldn’t miss the fact that he held it open for you this time.

“Really,” you echoed.

The door had led to what you could really only imagine to be the set. Huge lightboxes, a couple cameras, and a multitude of people all set up with a single black sheet as the focal point. A white loveseat contrasted it starkly, but that wasn’t where your eyes were drawn. They were drawn to the man seated elegantly atop it, dressed head-to-toe like the playboy prince of a small but filthy rich country. Lee Jeno.

“You can wait for him over here with me,” Eunseok tapped your elbow with a feather-light touch, snapping you from your near-trance.

“Thanks.” You walked with him towards a table lined with various food and drink.

Your focus was still on the PA as he got a bottle of water, opened it, took a lemon slice from a small bowl and squeezed it into the drink before plopping a blue straw in as well. Then didn’t drink it. Instead, he turned back to you and held it in his hand patiently.

“The straw disturbs the makeup as little as possible,” Eunseok explained to you, and it was then that you realized it wasn’t for him, it was for Jeno. “Makes the makeup artists’ lives a little bit easier.”

“That’s very considerate. I wouldn’t have even thought of that,” you commented, taking note of that process as your focus returned back to Jeno and the photoshoot.

Knowing that your next question might be considered disrespectful, you leaned closer to Eunseok to whisper, “So who’s the photographer?”

He understood your delicacy, replying back equally quiet, “Chen Man, she’s brilliant. Jeno’s worked with her in the past, but this is his first solo shoot with her. It’s for the new YSL campaign that he was chosen to be the face of.”

And you were rocketed back to the fact that Lee Jeno was a famous model. Obviously, you hadn’t really forgotten it, but in your casual meetings and interviewing outside of his work, the magnitude of it was lessened. But a PA, giant photoshoot, famous photographer, and being selected as the new face of a campaign for a huge designer really hammered in the famous model part.

“Wow.”

It was just then that Chen Man called for a short break, and the silent studio was immediately filled with chatter. Jeno made a beeline for you and Eunseok, his normal contagious grin across his face, “Hey, Y/N! I’m glad you made it here okay.”

Up close, you could appreciate the detail and regality of his outfit. It was made of crushed velvet of a deep cerulean color; various intricate medals flashing on his chest; dark epaulettes making his already broad shoulders even more imposing; large black boots; and silver jewelry and chains glinting on his fingers and neck.

Eunseok offered the water out to Jeno then, and he accepted it gratefully, “Thanks, Eunseok.”

You continued from the model’s earlier statement, “Yeah, Eunseok made sure I got to the right place.”

“Good, I sent him out there to get you.” He turned on his PA, “You didn’t give Y/N a hard time, did you?”

“My job is to make sure none of your insane fans somehow get in here,” the other man scoffed.

“So you did give her a hard time.”

Eunseok rolled his eyes at Jeno’s teasing words. Despite knowing that they were employer-employee, it felt much more like two friends to you. You added that to your notes.

Jeno took a couple big sips of his water, and you took this time to ask him a couple of questions.

“So Eunseok was saying that this shoot is for the new YSL campaign that you’re the face of. Have you ever done something like this before?”

He blinked at you a couple times before actually replying, “Yeah, it’s really an honor and a big opportunity to be chosen for this. I’ve done solo shoots before, but not ones of this magnitude.”

Another figure approached your small group, a makeup artist. Jeno handed his water back to Eunseok before leading the way a little further away to sit in a chair. As the makeup artist attended to his makeup, you continued with the interview.

“How familiar are you with the photographer on this shoot?”

“I’ve worked with Chen Man a few times before—” he paused to let the makeup artist apply his lip color again. After she was done, he continued, “Her ideas are incredible and she’s honestly so wonderful to work with. However, all those other times I was with other models, so doing a solo photoshoot with her is a bit nerve-wracking. She’s the kind of person that you really want to make proud, you know?”

Thinking of Ms. Zhang and her disappointment in you earlier, you nodded, “Yeah, I know.”

There was a call for everyone to start getting back into their places, and you took this as your cue to leave Jeno alone. He had work to do.

The makeup artist did one touch up on his face before letting him up out of the chair, another person coming to his side to fix his hair up just the way they wanted it, walking alongside him awkwardly to do so.

“Take a bunch of notes on your little notepad, Y/N!” Jeno quipped as he walked back in front of the camera.

“Will do!” You affirmed, holding your notebook above your head and shaking it slightly so he could see it.

Returning to your previous spot off to the side with Eunseok, you had a fond smile on your lips from your short interaction with Jeno. Eunseok had a little smirk of his own as he gazed at you.

“And what’s that smile for?” You questioned, head tilted.

“Nothing.”

You elbowed him with a short giggle, “Come on, tell me.”

“No,” he shook his head, that same smile on his lips.

Even as you rolled your eyes, your focus never faltered from Eunseok. You changed tactics, a slight pout on your face as you asked again, “Please, Seokkie?”

Finally, he relented, “You’re pretty special, Y/N.”

“What?” You questioned in pleasant surprise.

“For Manager Han to have approved this interview after what happened last time, Jeno probably begged.”

“I can't imagine what would be so special about me.”

Eunseok had a brightness to his features that you hadn’t seen yet as he replied, “I can.”

You raised an eyebrow, “And what is it?”

Shouts from the set took both your attentions away from each other. Chen Man had been calling directions out during the whole shoot, but never with such aggression as then.

“Jeno! Lee Jeno!”

You scanned the scene in front of you as you tried to figure out what exactly was happening. Jeno’s arms were crossed across his chest, a startlingly stern but calm gaze focused on… you?

“Jeno can you—ugh, fifteen-minute break, everybody!” She yelled out in exasperation, the rest of the crew breaking the silence, scattering from the set.

Chen Man continued addressing her model, “Jeno, your expressions… they’re off.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll work on them.”

Despite acknowledging her words, you were doubtful of if he had actually registered them, stalking off the set with seemingly one destination in mind.

“Y/N,” Jeno stopped right by you and Eunseok. “Can I speak with you for a second?”

“Of course,” you nodded, well aware of how the crew was only pretending to be busy, instead actually focused on the three of you.

Your subject took off again, and you guessed that he anticipated that you’d follow him. Which you did. Eunseok stayed behind.

His longer legs made it a little hard to keep up with him as he took twists and turns down hallways of the building.

“Jeno,” you breathed out, seeming to finally snap him out of whatever mood he had been in.

Immediately, he slowed down to your pace, a faint smile coming to his lips, “Sorry, long legs.”

“Where are we going?”

He abruptly stopped, “Here is fine.”

It was the middle of some random hallway. He apparently didn’t have an actual destination in mind, more-so a distance.

“So what do you need to talk to me about?” You questioned, pencil and notepad at the ready. It had to be something for the interview, it couldn’t possibly be anything else.

“Y/N…” Jeno reached his hands out to cover yours, gently lowering the pencil and notepad for you. His hands were big and warm on yours, and you felt nerves flare up at his clear insinuation that this wasn’t for the interview.

“Jeno…” you said back with a nervous half-giggle. He was still holding your hands.

“This isn’t part of the interview. I’m not interviewee Jeno, and you’re not interviewer Y/N right now.”

“Okay…”

As soon as you had accepted these terms, he released his feather-light hold on your hands and took his own back to wring them nervously. What could Lee Jeno possibly be nervous about?

“Hm, I’ve never done this before,” he chuckled, pressing a palm to the center of his chest.

“Done what?”

“Okay, I’m just going to be upfront. Uh, I think you’re super great, and pretty, and awesome and I’d really like to be able to take you out on a date some time.”

This had to be a fucking joke. No way that someone who looks like him, an actual model, someone who gets paid for being ridiculously attractive, could actually be asking you out. This had to be a sick, terrible, horrible joke he was playing on you.

And yet as his big brown eyes gazed at you, wide and hopeful, looking a lot like a puppy waiting to be adopted from some animal shelter, you knew that he was being genuine.

And you panicked.

Stuttering for a moment, you finally choked out the most formal and emotionally removed response you could’ve come up with, “I’m sorry, I—that wouldn’t be appropriate, since I’m interviewing you right now. A bias or conflict of interest would damage the integrity of my piece as well as my career.”

Surprisingly, his features didn’t seem as crestfallen as you anticipated, his expressions were always so easy to read. He, in fact, seemed very happy with your reply.

“I get it,” he beamed at you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze for a moment before letting it go. “After the article, then.”

That wasn’t what you meant. At all. But between your own burning cheeks and internal state of panic, you couldn’t express this to him. Or even really process your own thoughts right then.

“We should head back, Eunseok will come looking for us soon,” Jeno nodded with his head back in the general direction that you two had come from.

He kept a polite distance from you, allowing some of the panic alarms blaring in your mind to quiet just a bit. You tried to brainstorm ways you could possibly keep this interview going forever. Ways to give you as much time as possible. To do what, exactly? Maybe come up with an actual way of rejecting him. Or maybe give him enough time to change his romantic focus to someone else, so that he would never end up revisiting this subject after the interview.

You could dream.

“Oh my god!” NingNing exclaimed. “Are you shitting me?!”

You’d just recalled your day to your roommate, finally ending at the part where Jeno had asked you on a date. She had literally done a spit-take back into her soda as she smacked your leg in excitement.

Despite still being in disbelief yourself, Jeno had been extremely up-front and clear about it. No room for misinterpretation. Unlike your response to him.

“Well when’s the date?” NingNing squealed, pressing for more information.

“I said no,” you deadpanned.

“What?”

“Well, kind of.”

At the clear grimace on your face, your friend sighed, “Y/N, what did you tell him? Verbatim.”

“I told him that it would be inappropriate right now because a bias or conflict of interest would ruin the integrity of my piece and any career opportunity that came out of it,” you repeated your statement from earlier almost word-for-word, sure that it would be burned into your memory for the rest of your life.

“You do know that he now definitely thinks that you were telling him to just wait until after the article is over, right?”

“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of,” you groaned, dropping your head into your hands and rubbing your face in exasperation.

“You don’t want to go on a date with Jeno?”

“I don’t want to date Lee Jeno,” you confirmed, nodding the head that you were still holding.

“Let me just review the situation here: you’ve got a very sweet, very funny, very hot guy that’s into you. What’s the problem?”

“He’s hot.”

Finally, you’d found it. The real reason you’d said no, the real reason you had a deep pit of dread in your stomach as soon as the words had left Jeno’s mouth hours earlier.

She snorted, “That’s a problem?”

“His entire career is based off being hot, he’s a model,” you explained rather desperately, relieved to finally be able to put your tumultuous thoughts into proper words. “I can’t deal with all that shit that comes with it. I just can’t.”

“So you’ll never want to date him? You’re not going to change your mind?”

“No, never. I couldn’t.”

“Never say never,” NingNing taunted with a sing-song voice, but at your eye-roll, became more serious. “Okay, let’s just say you’ll never date Jeno in your life—despite the fact that nothing is ever definite—you shouldn’t lead him on. Intentional or otherwise. Don’t let him spend the next few weeks thinking that you two are going to date after the article’s over.”

The anxiety was still there, however. “What if he doesn’t actually think that and I just misunderstood him? What if he just naturally gets over me in the next few weeks and doesn’t need me to confront him about this and straight-up reject him? He’s probably never been rejected in his life, what if he doesn’t take it well? What—”

She cut your endless strings of ‘what if’s short, “Y/N, didn’t he say that he’d never done this before?”

Realization hit you straight to the gut. “What if me rejecting him makes him never want to ask anybody else out again for the rest of his life and I scar him permanently?”

Your roommate had a clear look of ‘yikes’ on her face, and pure mortification ran through every inch of you.

“Never mind, there’s no way I could ever have such an impact on Lee Jeno’s life, that’s fucking ridiculous. I’m just some normal person, some journalist, and he’s literally a supermodel. No way this would actually matter to someone like that.”

“Y/N, don’t say stuff like that,” NingNing frowned, pulling some hair away from your face gently. “You matter to me, remember? You’re my best friend.”

Completely ignoring her, you continued, “I just have to be upfront with him, tell him I don’t want to go on a date with him, and be done with it. He’ll probably never think about it again for the rest of his life.”

She let out a sigh as if she were going to say something but thought better of it. You didn’t press her; your mind had been made up.

You couldn’t do it.

The next time you saw Jeno, you had every intention of being upfront. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were an absolute coward. Some part of you didn’t want to tell him, for whatever reason.

Maybe because the way his face absolutely lit up when he saw you was something you’d never seen anybody do for you before. Maybe because he asked you how your day was and didn’t look disinterested in your answer. Maybe because no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself that this was a professional interview, he made you feel so at ease that you somehow talked more about yourself than him.

Maybe because you did kind of want to date him.

Your notebook had been completely abandoned about fifteen minutes into your ‘lunch meeting,’ a fact that went mostly unnoticed by you. Until the waiter came with the bill and you had to move it out of the way for him to set it on the tabletop. You’d written just a couple short notes, nothing substantial. That wasn’t an interview, you couldn’t even try to bullshit it to yourself. That was a date-but-not-a-date. And you enjoyed yourself.

As you contemplated over your mostly-blank page, Jeno had already tucked his own card into the pouch and waved the waiter back over. Before you could argue him paying for you, the waiter was halfway across the restaurant.

“Jeno, I can pay for my own food,” you reminded him gently, feeling very much like you were scolding an over-excited puppy that had accidentally knocked over a potted plant in its haste to greet you.

“And I can pay for both of ours,” he countered.

You held his gaze firmly, waiting for him to— there it was.

His mouth split into a sheepish grin as he held up his hands in surrender, “Alright, I get it, I get it. Interview time right now. We’ll split the check for now.”

For now.

Maybe you liked the idea of that.

“Except this one, since they already ran my card,” Jeno added, a victorious smirk on his face, one that had you shaking your head fondly.

“Can I at least tip?”

“Already added that on the receipt.”

“How dare you be so thoughtful and respectful.”

He seemed about ready to quip something back when a distant chorus of squeals cut him off. You took a cursory glance around, eyes landing on a group of teenage girls standing just outside the window that you were seated by. They weren’t uncomfortably close, but it was clear what had made them so excited.

Jeno ducked his head shyly as he raised a hand to acknowledge them, only setting their nervous titters off again. Maybe he should have left his mask and hat on, or not chosen a table by the window.

And your heart dropped as you were once again reminded of who exactly the man in front of you was. Not just some cute guy named Lee Jeno, but a model who was known internationally, with fans who would recognize him out and about, with a career and life that was under the public gaze constantly.

You couldn’t do that. You couldn’t subject yourself to that. It would be too much for you.

With the girls still watching the two of you, you collected your notepad and stood up, stiffly bowing to him. “Thank you for allowing me to interview you, Mr. Lee.”

Thankfully, he took your lead, standing and returning your bow, “Of course, thank you as well, Ms. Y/L/N.”

Hopefully the girls got the message that this was business and nothing else. A dating rumor with Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you did not need in your life. Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you did not need in your life.

The light hum that had been in Ms. Zhang’s throat through most of her reading of your article suddenly changed tone as she came to the ending. Her brow furrowed thoughtfully, and your mind was running wild with nerves as you waited for her to speak.

“It’s good, Y/N,” she started.

You sensed a ‘but’ coming next.

“But… in the very first paragraph you introduce him as model by day, and explorer by night, or something to that effect.”

“Yes, that’s how he and his friends introduced him.”

“But you never bring up his ‘exploring’ again. This is about his life as a model and what he’s like outside of modelling here. You hooked me on the exploring part, but left me ultimately unsatisfied with that point.”

She was right. She was absolutely right. In your own personal whirlwind of confusion about your emotions and wants, you’d left a loose end in your article.

Ms. Zhang continued, her tone rising, “But…”

Oh, another ‘but.’

“This might just be perfect for a sequel. We publish this and advertise it as a two-part look into him, the first part his model by day, and the second part all about him as an explorer.”

You were caught off-guard, “You want to publish it?”

You had honestly expected her to throw it in the trash and fire you. You’d been so all over the place the entire time you’d been working on the article, you didn’t think it was anywhere close to your best work.

“Of course, this is the most hard-hitting and real piece that’s ever been done about the man! Most of it is tabloid nonsense. Not to mention that this is the first interview he’s done in over a year, it’s fresh content. It’s perfect, Y/N.”

Ms. Zhang just called your article perfect. You were on Cloud Nine, barely listening as she continued.

“Do you think you’ll be able to get a second interview with him? Maybe even tag along on one of his exploring trips or something, like how you went to one of his photoshoots in this one?”

That snapped you back into reality. Going on a trip with Jeno? That sounded dicey. But… also a chance to extend the interview, prolong the inevitable: his expectation that you’ll start dating after the interview. Your worst fear.

Avoiding an uncomfortable scenario and making your career out of it? It was an opportunity you couldn’t pass up.

“Of course, Ms. Zhang.”

Right as you walked into the VIP lounge, you were met with the expectant face of Jeno. You’d agreed to meet him there on your lunch break, right after your morning meeting with Ms. Zhang, to let him know if she was going to move forward with publishing your article or not. It felt a bit weird being at a nightclub in the middle of the day in your work clothes, but it was one of the more private places to meet with him.

“So?” He asked hopefully. “How’d it go?”

“She’s going to publish it,” you breathed out, still in shock yourself.

Two strong arms were suddenly around you, pulling you into a warm chest that was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Oh my god!” Jeno hugged you tightly. “Congrats, Y/N! I’m so proud of you!”

You hugged him back for a moment, enjoying it more than you should have considering you swore up and down that you weren’t going to let yourself date him. Then you remembered the other half of the conversation, your arms going limp.

“And she wants a second part.”

“That’s great!” He exclaimed, then after another moment, it seemed to have dawned on him. “Oh wait.”

And he let go of you, a particular chill coming to your body as he took a step back from you, declaring, “Professionalism. No bias or conflict of interest.”

You felt bad. You felt so bad. And yet you nodded, “Yeah, it’s still going to have to be like that.”

Maybe forever, if you could swing it just right.

“So… a second part about what, exactly? The article was super great, but I’m not sure how I could be interesting enough for a sequel.”

“Your ‘exploring,’” you explained. “I had mentioned it, but never returned to the topic or expanded on it, so she wants this whole second part to be about your trips and you know… all that stuff. Whatever you get up to when you’re not a model, and when you’re not a regular dude here.”

A rather cheeky grin spread across his face at this, and you didn’t want to know why he was so excited about you not dating, because you had a feeling it would be something awful close to it.

“Well then, what better way to get to know Explorer Jeno than coming with me on my trip to a tropical island next week?”

You were taken aback by both the invite but also by the event itself. After all, Jeno had given you his entire schedule for the past two months, which included next week. And you didn’t remember a trip being anywhere on there.

“Since when have you been going to a tropical island next week?” You asked incredulously.

“Since now.”

You sighed, rubbing your face. “Jeno, you can’t drop everything in your life just to do this. I can wait until whenever your next actual scheduled break is for whatever trip you make then.”

“Yeah, but I can’t wait,” he insisted, a near pout across his features. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, half-mumbling to himself, “I’m calling my manager right now. He owes me vacation days anyway, I’ll just take them early. Make my three-week backpacking trip in Europe next year fifteen days instead. I can’t wait.”

That went straight to your heart, and you felt your chest hurt from the implications of that. He couldn’t wait until he could date you. With every passing moment you felt like a more and more terrible human being. Which you were, you absolutely were just a horrible human being for doing this to him. After all, like you’d said, you were never going to date Lee Jeno.

Right?

One week later and you were in your third airport of the trip, your second layover as you waited for your connecting flight. You’d been in interviewer mode since Jeno had picked you up to head to the first airport that morning. Asking questions, writing answers, asking more questions. There was no room for anything but business on this trip. This article would be the follow-up to your first piece that your boss thought was perfect. So this had to be more perfect than perfect. You wanted to make her proud.

Jeno, surprisingly, was being rather professional too. Other than the slight touch here, an odd phrase there that couldn’t exactly be classified as professional. A brush of your hands as he tried to get your attention, off-handed comment about how cute you were when you were focused taking notes. You’d only remind him that this was a professional article, hoping that he couldn’t see the bashful smile on your lips.

Or even now, he returned from what was supposed to be a quick bathroom break with waters and snacks for the both of you.

“How much do I owe you?” You asked as you accepted the food and drink.

“Nothing.”

You frowned.

“Come on, Y/N,” he sighed in exasperation, cracking open his own water bottle. “I know we’re serious professional interviewing here, but two people doing business together can still be friendly and do nice gestures for each other.”

He was right. He was absolutely right. You were being a jerk for no reason. Well, not for no reason. There was a small voice in your head that hoped that maybe if you pushed him away enough now he would change his mind about wanting to date you, that he’d think you were actually a jerk. And that little voice was apparently wrong. And also a piece of shit. Jeno didn’t deserve that.

“Right, sorry,” you shook your grumpy face off, offering him a smile instead. “Thanks, Jeno.”

He pulled down his face mask to be able to drink the water, and that combined with his inconspicuous baseball cap brought back the idea that he was a famous celebrity who had to cover up his appearance when he went out to avoid being detected. Even in some random foreign country you didn’t know the name of on a layover. If you did actually start dating him, would he have to wear those on your dates? Any time you wanted to spend time together in public? Would you have to start wearing them?

Those were ridiculous thoughts, especially because you were never going to date Lee Jeno.

Right?

On the plane, you halted the interview to allow the two of you to both take naps, already feeling the toll of the heavy travelling you’d done today. And you’d be doing even more soon, as this flight wouldn’t even take you to the island directly, you had to take a ferry from a different island’s airport out to the actual island that was your destination. Then a car ride of some sort from the harbor to wherever you were staying. And based off the clothes Jeno had requested you bring, you’d be getting very in touch with nature on this trip, another exhausting idea.

All for an interview. All for a way to avoid the inevitable.

As you snoozed, not quite asleep yet, you felt Jeno slowly shift in his sleep, his head lolling to the side until it finally found a resting place on your shoulder. Even in his sleep this man completely disregarded professionalism.

But you were too tired to complain, soon falling asleep yourself, with your own head rolling until it finally found a resting place on his.

“So what exactly happened at your last interview that was so bad you were banned from them?”

Your questions continued as soon as you’d left the airport on the island, only halting when you were caught off-guard by Jeno’s choice of transportation: a cream yellow moped. Which you were now on the back of, clinging onto your bag for dear life. Thank God you had packed light like he suggested.

“It’s kind of a long story,” he replied loudly over the wind. “I’ll tell you when we get to the hotel, okay?”

“Fine.”

“We’ve got some tighter turns coming up, you might want to hold on to something actually attached to the moped.”

He didn’t say it, but you knew what he meant. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you then held onto him for dear life as he whipped around the turns. How he could possibly make a moped feel dangerous was truly incredible to you.

“Yeah, that—” he stumbled over a voice crack. “That’s good. Much more secure.”

“This question shouldn’t be a long story: Have you ever driven one of these things before?”

The hotel was small and homey, with so few rooms that the two of you would be sharing one. Jeno had already informed you of that beforehand, having asked for the okay from you, that sharing the room wouldn’t be too unprofessional. While it definitely was, there were no other rooms available, so you were stuck between a rock and a hard place. When he informed you that there were two beds, you finally agreed.

Except it wasn’t two beds, as you found out when you walked in. It was a bed and a pull-out couch. And he’d already claimed the pull-out couch for himself.

“Jeno,” you sighed again as you watched him set his stuff down on the less comfortable option. “This isn’t two beds.”

He shrugged, “We have separate places to sleep, that’s what you were worried about, right?”

Your patience was wearing thin. It was almost annoying how sweet he was. Well, it wasn’t really him being sweet that annoyed you. It was the sneaky ways he liked to do it.

“Jeno…” you repeated his name, trailing off as you waited for him acknowledge you.

He was still messing around with setting up the pull-out couch.

“Jeno, look at me.”

At your request, he immediately did so, the attentiveness catching you off-guard for a moment. But you were determined.

“I don’t like being lied to or tricked. Even if it’s something nice, you know? It’s sweet, but I like to make my own decisions about things. Even things that may seem little to you, like splitting the bill at restaurants, or whether you’re coming up to get me or I’m going down to meet you, or you dropping all your plans to go on some spur-of-the-moment trip, or who’s taking the couch and who’s taking the bed. I’d like a say in the matter, okay?”

He gulped, seeming to really be taking his time to mull over what you were saying. And you did, too. It was another reason that you could never date him. He was a celebrity, he was used to being able to do whatever, to not having to worry about the kinds of things normal people like you had to worry about. The implications of that terrified you. You couldn’t do it.

Finally, he said, “Okay, yeah. I understand. I never really saw it like that, I’m sorry. I should’ve been more thoughtful of how it was making you feel. I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

Shit, this dude was way too fucking sweet.

You nodded, mumbling some kind of response to the genuine apology he’d given you.

Clearly as eager to change the topic as you, Jeno spoke up, “So, what was it that you’d asked me on the moped earlier?”

And you were more than happy to revisit that, snatching up your notebook from your bag and sitting on the bed, “What happened at your last interview that caused you to be banned from them?”

“Oh, right,” he physically grimaced at this, rubbing his face with his hands for a moment. “It’s a long story, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’ve got plenty of paper.”

Jeno let out a sigh, sitting on the pull-out couch. “No, Y/N. I can tell you, but you can’t write it down, you can’t publish it. I’m sorry to have to ask you this, because I know how dedicated you are to the integrity of your work but… if you’re going to publish it, I can’t tell you. I’m sorry. The others don’t even know the whole story. Jaemin doesn’t know.”

His words struck you differently, hearing the genuine defeat and distress in his voice. With a twinging heart, you tucked your notepad and pencil back into your bag. For someone who had been preaching about professionalism and keeping the integrity of your article, you were really so ready to throw it out for him as soon as he asked, weren’t you?

“I won’t write it down, I won’t tell a soul,” you reassured him, wanting nothing more than to sit down next to him and hold his hand and tell him that everything was okay. But you still clung onto some little semblance of professionalism here. For some fucking reason, when it was getting clearer by the minute that all your resistance would be futile.

Just a glimmer of a smile was across his lips for a moment at your actions before it was taken over by the same pensive face as before, and he started the story.

“It was… oh probably over a year ago now. I was still kind of new to the modelling industry, but it felt like everyone’s eyes were on me. My company toted me around as their rising star and every second I wasn’t at a gig, I was being interviewed by someone. It was a lot, but it was freaking awesome.”

The brightness in his features that had been there as he recalled the earlier days of his career suddenly turned dark at his next words. “Until this one interview. It was for a smaller magazine, and my manager didn’t even know why I wanted to do the interview. But it was a magazine that my mom liked to read, and I wanted her to be able to see her son in it. So I sat down with the interviewer, and it felt like it was going like all my other interviews had gone. And maybe because I wanted to really make a good impression on her, so the article my mom read would be as positive as possible, I accidentally led her on or something like that.”

You tilted your head curiously at this last statement. If it had come from any other hot guy, you might have doubted his actual intentions, but it was Jeno. You knew that he wasn’t only physically attractive but had such a way of being naturally charming and making people feel at ease that it was impossible not to be drawn in by his attractive personality. He didn’t do it on purpose, he was just a genuinely nice guy.

“But afterwards, she asked for my number. I said no. I let her down as easy as I could, and she took it with grace. Or I had thought so until Manager Han and the CEO of my company—who I had never met until this—sat me down in his office and showed me a naked picture of some guy and asked if it was me. You couldn’t see his face, and his build was similar to mine, so I could see how they were doubtful. It wasn’t me, but that didn’t matter. The interviewer had sent those pictures to my company saying that if they didn’t pay her a bunch of money, she would post them online saying they were of me.”

Your eyes widened almost comically at this. You couldn’t believe that someone could actually think of doing something like that, especially to Jeno.

“Now, the company doesn’t take very well to people trying to extort them or threaten their people, so she was taken care of.” After a pause, his eyes shot open comically wide as he shook his head fervently, “Legally, in the legal system, it’s not like my company like killed her or anything, I phrased that very badly.”

A quiet laugh came from your mouth at his backpedaling.

“Anyway, they decided that after that, it would be best for me to not do interviews for a while. I don’t really know what happened to her after the court case, but to my knowledge, she hasn’t bothered us. And I haven’t had an interview since. Until you.”

“Until me,” you echoed, mind reeling from this story.

This interview really meant more to Jeno than you had realized before. You’d incorrectly and selfishly assumed that he was so invested in it just because he liked you. But it was more than that. His last interview had been a disaster, the interviewer threatened to humiliate him publicly, and betrayed him. He had taken a chance on you to be different than that, taken a chance to make you his first interview back after the shit the last one had put him through. You were sure that he was feeling the pressure from his company to make it the best possible return to them ever. And he had entrusted it all with you.

You weren’t sure of how long you’d been sitting in silence for, but it started suffocating you, so you finally choked out, “I’m sorry she did that to you. She’s… a bitch.”

Jeno chuckled, “I guess. I kind of just feel bad for her.”

“I don’t,” you snorted, feeling your blood starting to boil as you thought about it even more. “She tried to ruin your career and reputation because she got rejected. It’s not your fault, Jeno. You didn’t do anything to deserve that. She’s just a bitch.”

While he didn’t outright agree with you, the faint smile on his features was still apparent as he went to stand up, forcing some pep into his tone. “Okay, time for some island exploring. After all, you’re here for Explorer Jeno, right?”

“Right!”

Right?

Being on the island was refreshing. Not only because you’d never been on a trip to a place quite like it before, but just everything felt absolutely perfect. It was the perfect temperature outside, the warm sun being balanced out by a cool breeze that blew through your hair, the water surrounding you was the perfect clear blue, the flora the perfect rich green, and the man with you was… perfect.

You’d given up on trying to keep your fond thoughts of Jeno at bay. He was wonderful, that was undeniable. And as you went around the island together, his baseball cap and face mask left behind in the hotel room, the notion of his fame slipped from your mind. Sure, you were still writing down your observations, small adventures, and pertinent questions you asked him. But you weren’t interviewing Famous Supermodel Jeno right now, you were interviewing Explorer Jeno. And he was someone you could let yourself fall for, even for just a few days on this little island.

After your third day on the island as you signed onto the hotel wifi to transcribe your notes from your notebook to your word document on your laptop, a few email notifications popped up, catching your attention. Reception wasn’t the best, and you had so many other things occupying your focus and time—mainly Jeno—that you rarely checked your phone. Not to mention that before you’d left, you were unsure of if you’d even have cell phone service on the island, so you’d told your friends to email you if they needed anything.

One was an email from NingNing, the short preview of her message that you could see making you shake your head. You were not on a romantic getaway with Jeno.

The next was some flyer from a store advertising their latest sale, which you quickly discarded in favor of opening the one from Ms. Zhang. The person who was literally paying for you to be there right then.

The gist of her email was basically just asking for a status update, a routine check-in to see how your research and interview was coming along. You filled her in on what kind of direction and outline you were thinking of for the article, telling her some of the things you’d done together around the island, framing it as professionally as you could. However, it was very hard to make it business-like, you realized in slight defeat as you reread the email draft to yourself. Maybe you could make it casual-business-friendly-sounding instead. After editing a couple phrases here and there, you read it one more time. Satisfied that you’d made it sound the least like a ‘romantic getaway’ as possible, you hit send.

You had just sent it when Jeno emerged from the bathroom, fully clothed and toweling off his wet hair.

When the two of you had gotten back from wandering the streets and seeing the nightlife of the town, you’d given him first shower of the night, wanting to sort out your notes as soon as possible. You had a lot to move over just from that night alone, especially the moment when Jeno was ordering something from an older street vendor and had suddenly busted out some local dialect he’d picked up from God knows where. And the man knew what he was saying too. Jeno never ceased to amaze you.

“Jeno,” you called his name out from where you sat cross-legged on the bed, laptop with the email still up in front of you.

“Hm?” He hummed in acknowledgement, abandoning his towel in order to run his fingers through his damp hair.

“The way the guys had described your exploring, and the stuff you’d told me to bring made me think it’d be more… rugged than this.”

A handsome, crooked grin split his lips, seeming very delighted at your observation, “And what did the guys tell you?”

“Jaemin and Renjun seemed fearful for my life and told me to be safe; Haechan and Chenle were rather ecstatic and told me to have fun in a tone that made me not want to know their implications; Mark told me to bring plenty of water and a first aid kit; and Jisung… well he didn’t actually say anything but his face said it all.”

“You talked to all the guys about the trip?”

“Not by choice, NingNing brought me to an influencer party with Jisung, Jaemin, and Renjun the other day, and I was summoned to the lounge by Chenle and subsequently ambushed by him, Haechan, and Mark about it.”

“They’re all menaces,” Jeno shook his head fondly. “But don’t worry, I’ve got some plans for us tomorrow.”

“That sounds ominous.”

He giggled.

“So we’re hiking to the top of this volcano?” You summarized what Jeno had just told you, in much fewer words.

“Yep!”

“Then camping near the top, which we may or may not be allowed to do.”

“Yep!”

“Without a guide.”

“I’m your guide, Y/N! I do this kind of stuff all the time, and there’s a trail to follow anyway.”

“Now I know why Jaemin and Renjun feared for my life.”

“They were being dramatic, it’ll be fine.”

“Oh I’m not protesting going, I’ll just make sure to type up my will in the notes app in my phone first.”

“Now you’re being dramatic.”

You laughed, putting your hands up in surrender, “Alright, alright. I won’t write my final will and testament right now.”

“Let’s go!”

Thankfully, you’d taken heed of Mark’s advice to bring extra water. With the amount you were sweating, you would’ve been dehydrated less than an hour in if you weren’t constantly replenishing the lost fluids. It wasn’t an incredibly strenuous or difficult hike. Not a casual stroll, but you were managing. It was just that it was so hot and humid now that you were in the more confined landscape of the trees, you couldn’t tell if more of the moisture was your own sweat or the water hanging in the air and clinging to your skin as you continued through it.

Jeno kept you plenty entertained with stories of his previous (mis)adventures, almost all of which were solo. There were a couple times that he brought along others, but they didn’t go great. One unfortunate happenstance was when he’d dragged Eunseok out white water rafting with him and the poor guy fell out of the raft into freezing cold water. According to Jeno, his PA almost quit right on the spot. Another time, the other VIP lounge members had joined him as a celebration trip after Renjun hit 10 million subscribers. They ran out of water on the second day, Chenle ended up spraining his ankle, and they were ready to commit mutiny before the 48-hour mark, so the trip was concluded early.

“Jeno, it sounds like the people who go exploring with you don’t have a great track record of enjoying themselves,” you pointed out, taking another swig of water.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Y/N?” He countered.

Looking around, you could just make out a peek of blue ocean through the trees, and looking ahead of you, the two of you were more than halfway to the top.

“Yeah, I am. So far. There’s still time for me to sprain my ankle or fall into a freezing river.”

He shook his head affectionately at your teasing, “Careful, you’re going to jinx yourself.”

“Old hiking superstition? If you talk about spraining your ankle you will?”

“No, but still. My own little superstition, I guess.”

“Got it. Then I’ll un-jinx myself: I will not sprain my ankle or fall into a freezing river on this trip,” you announced loudly to the surrounding forest, earning another fond smile from Jeno accompanied by a soft chuckle.

“There you go.”

“Another five minutes or so and we’ll be at the peak!” Jeno yelled back over his shoulder to you excitedly.

You were a few steps behind him, your legs had been complaining for the greater part of the last thirty minutes. But with this information, you felt reinvigorated, having the end so close bringing a new spark of energy to your tired limbs. You caught up to him, sharing the trail at the wider parts and staying just behind him at the narrower parts.

Finally, you were at the top. And you knew because the trees opened up to a clearing, the leaves and branches giving way to the most incredible sights you could’ve imagined.

“Wow,” you breathed out, turning to get the full view.

From here you could see the whole little town below you, other nearby islands, the forest you had just hiked through, and the vast, glistening blue sea surrounding you. The sun bounced off of the water at the perfect angle to make it look like it was made of diamonds. It was breathtaking. Not to mention that now that you were out of the humid forest, you could once again feel the cool breeze across your heated skin.

A pod of dolphins surfaced briefly, their fins dipping up and down between the calm waves.

“Jeno, dolphins!” You pointed them out to him eagerly, instinctually clutching his arm in excitement. “Did you know that dolphins in the Amazon River are pink because of repeated skin abrasion, and that the males are pinker because they have a lot more interspecies aggression?”

“I think my guide told me something like that, but I was too focused on getting my paddle back from one to really listen to him.”

You turned to him with wide eyes. “You’ve seen them?”

“Yeah, I went to the Amazon last summer. I had to wrestle my paddle back from a rather playful one,” he shrugged, as if it was just a casual little day trip or something. “So you really like dolphins?”

“I did a report for school when I was like 11, some of the info just stuck.”

As you kept watching the dolphins, a smaller one popped up in the middle of the pod. “Oh! A baby! It’s so cute!”

“Yeah, she is,” he agreed with you.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “You can’t tell it’s a girl from here!”

Then you looked over at him, realizing that his focus wasn’t on the dolphins, but on you. Mumbling something about professionalism, you let go of his arm, clasping your hands in front of you as you awkwardly looked back out to the sea.

With a victorious smirk on his face—probably enjoying the fact that he was able to fluster you—Jeno took a few steps away from you, yanking his knapsack off his back and grabbing a blanket from it, “Time for a late lunch.”

He laid the blanket out on a flatter part of the terrain, then brought out a small assortment of foods. You sat down with him, eager to dig into the food. With how much your legs hurt from hiking up here, you hadn’t realized that you were starving until he mentioned lunch. Your stomach growled angrily, and you just hoped it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear.

Jeno had packed a very nice lunch for you to share. For the most part, you two were quiet, mouths full of food and eyes still drinking in the stunning view of where you were. You turned your phone on to snap a few pictures before shutting it off again. With no charging ports out here, you had to conserve the battery until you were back in the hotel.

“Do you know which island that is?” You asked Jeno, pointing to the one that seemed the closest to you.

“Nope.”

“That one?” You pointed to a different one.

“Nope.”

“This one?” You teasingly pointed at the ground you were sitting on.

Jeno raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

Right as you had opened your mouth to say something smartassy back, you pursed your lips in defeat. “Uh, nope.”

He chuckled, capping his water and starting to put the trash and leftover food back into his bag. You followed his lead, standing when he did so he could pack the blanket back up too. Stretching, a few satisfying cracks came from your back, letting go of the tension that had built up from your sitting position that probably wasn’t great for your spine.

“We should head down to the campsite soon,” Jeno informed you quietly as you had gone back to watching the ocean.

He’d told you while you were still at the base that you wouldn’t be camping at the peak, but at another area a little further down the mountain that was a lot safer for sleeping on. You wished you could’ve stayed up here for the rest of your life.

“Can’t we stay and watch the sunset?” Your voice was nearly a soft whine as you resisted leaving so soon. “It’s got to be incredible from up here.”

“I’m sure it is,” he sounded very reluctant to be telling you this. “But we have to set up camp before it gets too dark.”

“A couple more minutes?”

“Yeah, of course.”

After being rather useless in helping Jeno set up your campsite—not for any chivalrous reasons on his part, you were truly just inept at things and did more harm than good when you tried to help—you sat outside the tent with him. The two of you were going to be sharing a tent, which he had asked earlier if that would be okay. You told him it was fine with you.

The blanket previously used for lunch earlier was under the two of you as you sat just outside the tent. The site Jeno had chosen as your campsite was in a rare area where the foliage wasn’t too thick, and you could just make out some of the ocean as the sun set. It wasn’t the picture-perfect sunset you imagined could be seen from the peak, but it was still pretty.

You continued with your interview questions as you looked out towards the water, scrawling down his answers in the fading light. You couldn’t quite see what you were writing, hoping you didn’t just make a bunch of illegible scribbles instead of notes. He spoke again of his trip to the Amazon, saying how he’d like to go back again sometime, and maybe have a better look at the pink river dolphins. The way he said it fostered some implications, a thought in your mid that maybe you could go with him if he did go back. That was a nice thought. And impractical one, but it gave you warm fuzzies nonetheless.

“So, why do you think you like exploring so much?” You asked him after hearing so many stories of all the destinations he’d gone to.

“Who doesn’t like to travel?”

“What you do… it’s not just travelling, it’s not just a vacation. You’re not booked up in five stars hotels in city centers or doing every tacky tourist thing out there. You get at the heart of where you are, you explore it, you don’t just visit it. Why is that?”

“That’s a rather deep question,” he let out a light chuckle, shifting to face you as he closed his eyes, taking a moment to think. “I guess… like you said, I try to get at the heart of the place, not the surface-level stuff everyone else sees. I’ve always had a sort of wanderlust in me. When I was about twelve, I damn near gave my mom a heart attack because I got on a train and wanted to see where it went and ended up fifty miles from home. And now, I don’t know, I guess the stuff everybody else does doesn’t really interest me… the picture that’s painted to tourists of a place isn’t what it actually is, and I want to find out what is. If that makes sense. Did that make sense?”

You swallowed hard, nodding fervently. “Yeah, it did. I completely understand, yeah.”

That’s how he saw the world, and it was beautiful. And maybe you could see it like him; maybe you could look past the picture that’s painted and what everyone else sees to get at the heart.

Up this high, cold started setting in some time long after the sun had finished setting and darkness was all around you, save for the soft glow of the lantern Jeno had going. The temperature wouldn’t drop terribly, but it was cooler than it was during the day, encouraging you to tuck your chilly fingers into the inside of your knees for some warmth.

“I’m sorry,” Jeno frowned, standing up and stepping over to the tent. “I forgot to tell you to bring a jacket, didn’t I?”

“I’m alright, Jeno,” you assured him, but his arm popped back out of the tent holding a couple pieces of clothing.

It was two sweaters, one he offered out to you, the other presumably for himself. You didn’t refuse, which maybe you really should have for professionalism’s sake. Slipping the hoodie over your head then sticking your arms in, you were immediately swallowed up by it. Sure, Jeno was pretty buff, but you were sure this would be oversized even on him.

You didn’t even have to try to pull the sleeves over your hands, sweater paws already there as soon as you’d put it on. Which wasn’t ideal if you wanted to keep writing stuff down for the article.

“I would’ve told you that I’m a human space heater, but I figured this was a little more professional,” he said, heavy implications there.

Butterflies fluttered around in your stomach as you took it upon yourself to scoot closer to him until your legs and sides were touching, “This is still professional, just two professionals huddling together for warmth.”

“Yeah.”

You were trying to convince yourself more than you were him, knowing that you couldn’t really fool yourself on this one. But damn, you could pretend you did.

It was pretty soon after he’d gotten sweaters for the two of you that Jeno interjected into your conversation, “So when is the article technically over? When you’re done writing it? When your boss okays it? When it’s compiled with the other articles in that issue of the journal? When the copies hit the shelves and its uploaded to the website?”

You let out a shallow breath, knowing what he was really asking. When can the two of you date?

The part of you that was saying ‘never!’ was getting smaller and smaller, and the part of you who just wanted it to be right now was growing bigger and bigger. And yet, for some reason, you were still listening to the little one.

“I don’t know, probably when it’s officially published. You know, when ‘the copies hit the shelves and it’s uploaded to the website.’”

“When do you think that will be?”

“The first one is being published in this month’s issue. So, depending on how fast I get this one written up and proofed, at the earliest next month.”

“And the latest?”

“A couple months. I’m not sure how long Ms. Zhang will want between the two, if she wants to leave the audience in suspense for longer or give them the next part as soon as possible. Probably the first one, if I’m being honest.”

“Oh,” Jeno’s pout that you could see illuminated from the lantern was suddenly split into a wide yawn. “We should go to sleep, we’ve got the climb back down tomorrow.”

You were glad that he had brought it up first. After all, you were pretty tired, but you weren’t about to be the one to end the nice time you were having. Nodding, you stood, taking the lantern in your hand as Jeno folded the blanket back up.

Ducking into the tent, you immediately plopped down onto your sleeping bag, giving Jeno as much room as possible to maneuver his limbs around as he zipped the tent up behind him and set his stuff down in the corner. You put the lantern down at your feet, keeping the area illuminated as you climbed into your sleeping bag and started settling in for the night.

With the covers pulled up to your shoulders and Jeno’s hoodie bunching around your face in a comfortably warm way, you were pretty content to fall asleep then and there. But the light was still on.

Groaning, you looked down towards your feet, glaring at the lantern you knew you’d have to get un-comfy to turn off. Jeno had a small smile on his face as he sat up, “I’ll get it. You ready to turn it off?”

You nodded, your ‘yes’ muffled by the hoodie.

The last thing you saw before complete darkness was Jeno’s soft grin. That was a rather nice image to have in your mind as you drifted off to sleep.

Eyes fluttering awake, the first thing you were aware of was that you were warm. Very warm. Way too warm. One might say that you were currently in a pool of your own sweat. You’d have to wash this hoodie before giving it back to Jeno, it was definitely disgusting.

Speaking of Jeno, he wasn’t in the tent with you, which you noticed as you peeled the somewhat damp sweater off yourself. You took the opportunity to apply some more deodorant and change your short sleeve shirt before shoving your feet back into your shoes. You headed out of the tent, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you did so.

The very last traces of the sunrise were still in the sky from the little that you could see, but it was definitely morning. Looking around, you spotted Jeno standing a little further away from the tent, holding his hand out towards a lower-hanging branch. You wouldn’t have quite been able to reach it yourself, but he could. Perched atop the branch was a bright blue bird, eating right out of his hand. Your eyes widened just a little at this, though you were too tired to be terribly surprised.

Watching him feed the bird for a little longer, you felt your chest swell. His hair was messy, not having fixed his bedhead yet; a peaceful hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth; his big, round, eyes watched the bird eat with a certain simple happiness that for some reason had tears threatening to well up in your own.

You opened your mouth to call out to him, but instead a hoarse croak came out, one that made the bird take off in a flurry of blue feathers and fear. Jeno’s head whipped around to look at the source of the noise, you, and a bright grin came to his features.

“Morning, Y/N,” his voice was even deeper from sleep as he greeted you. He didn’t even seem mad that you’d scared off the bird.

As he approached you, the swell in your chest continued to the point where it hurt, and your vision started going blurry from the tears building up. Jeno’s expression changed to one of concern as he seemed to notice your moist eyes the closer that he got.

“Wh—”

You’d finally gone insane, you’d decided. Absolutely bonkers, completely crazy. After all, how else would you explain the fact that you were now kissing Jeno?

With your hands gripping at his shirt to bring his mouth down to yours, you kissed him like you’d been sick for your whole life and his lips were the cure. All the voices in your head finally shut up, your chest decompressed, and a single tear ran down your face.

He immediately kissed you back, but his hands seemed unsure of what to do, gingerly resting on your arms, featherlight as they hovered there. As if he was afraid that he’d break you, despite the force with which you had crashed your mouth to his.

When you let yourself come back down—and also breathe—you loosened your grip on Jeno’s shirt, releasing him from the slightly hunched position he had been in. Slowly, you brought one of your hands down to wipe away the lone tear.

Jeno was looking at you with a tilted head. “Well, that wasn’t very professional.”

A strangled chuckle escaped your mouth as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, “Yeah, sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize,” he said softly, a gentle hand coming to cup your cheek, urging you to look back up at him. And when you did, he lightly brushed his lips against yours. A tender ghost of a kiss, one that didn’t last long as Jeno ended it almost as soon as he’d started it.

Opening your eyes, you saw a nearly silly grin spread across his face, precious giggles bubbling up. His smile was contagious, one gracing your mouth as well.

“Is this going to ruin the integrity of your article?” He asked, still smiling down at you. “If you want this to be a thing, of course.”

“I do, I do,” you nodded fervently, a great weight lifted off your soul now that you let yourself admit that. “I’ll tell Ms. Zhang and see what she wants to do about the articles. Until then, we’ve got to lay low.”

“Movie nights,” he immediately surmised.

Quite liking the idea, you agreed, “Yeah, movie nights.”

The doors opened to the VIP lounge, where you had agreed to meet Jeno after your meeting with your boss. It was almost two weeks after you’d returned from what NingNing was now definitely referring to as your ‘romantic getaway,’ which you couldn’t argue. Most of those two weeks was spent by you finalizing your second article, not wanting to tell Ms. Zhang about how that trip had really gone until after you had work to show for it.

Jeno was waiting for you, already standing up and pacing the small room nervously. He seemed more worried about this than you were, despite it really being your career on the line and not his.

You made a beeline to wrap your arms around his torso, burying your face in his chest, and he immediately reciprocated it, holding you closely and pecking the crown of your head.

“Hey, how’d it go?” His gentle tone of voice betrayed his assumptions that it was bad.

Bringing your face out of his chest in order to look up at him, you squealed, “She’s still going to publish them!”

“Ah!” He cried out, tightening his grip on you until it was practically bone-crushing. “I knew it! I knew you were just so good she would have to publish your articles.”

You elaborated, practically buzzing with excitement, “Because I kept out the uh, more private details of the trip and focused on you and the trip itself, she says that it ties up the loose end from the first one nicely. Although, she did recommend not going public until after the second article was out.”

“But you won’t get fired if we don’t abide by that recommendation, right?”

“No, I won’t,” you reassured him, happiness fluttering in your chest as he pecked your forehead.

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, letting him peck your lips too before you spoke up. “I do think she’s right, though, we should wait a while to go out in public as a couple.”

Jeno clearly didn’t like that idea, sighing in reply, “Why?”

“It’s been less than a month, what if you decide you don’t like me?”

It was meant to be a joke, but he took it seriously, kissing your forehead, then your nose, then finally your mouth, “Impossible.”

After a moment, he relented, “Alright. I waited two months, another one or so shouldn’t be that bad.”

“Actually, she’s publishing the second article in a special edition that’ll come out two weeks after the first, not a month.”

“I can wait three weeks.”

And wait three weeks he did. Three weeks exactly. Twenty-one days after your conversation in the VIP lounge, two days after your second article hit the shelves, Jeno picked you up for your first public date. This time, you let him come up and get you—your roommate wasn’t home to bother you—and he left his hat and face mask at home.

“Hi Jeno,” you greeted him as you opened the door.

“Hi, baby,” he replied, wasting no time in lacing your fingers together as you walked to the elevator.

As soon as you stepped foot out of your apartment building, whatever resolve he had broke down, and he smooched your cheek loudly. You giggled at the gesture, squeezing his hand to let him know that you were okay with it. After all, you’d made the poor guy wait longer than he should have, some PDA was in order.

The date was at a small café a few blocks over, within walking distance. Which you were sure Jeno appreciated, having a longer time to be out in public with you, never once letting go of your hand or without physical contact with you. He had to let everybody know that you were dating, and you didn’t mind. You liked that he was so ecstatic to be dating you.

At the café, you ordered up at a front counter, and the cashier asked, “Together or separate?”

“Together!” Jeno replied brightly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You leaned over to murmur to him, “She means, are we paying together or separate?”

“Together!” He repeated.

Squinting up at him for a moment, you didn’t argue it, letting him take the check for both of you. Although you did take a few crumpled bills out of your wallet to drop into the tip jar. After getting your food, you eagerly dug in, a light and amicable conversation had between bites.

“So you really waited exactly three weeks, huh?” You teased him.

“The second article came out two days ago, I think that’s plenty of time for everyone to read it,” he defended himself.

“It took you five days to read it.”

He seemed about ready to quip something back when a muffled chorus of squeals cut him off. You took a brief glance around, eyes landing on a group of teenage girls standing just outside the window that you were seated by. They weren’t uncomfortably close, but it was clear what had made them so excited.

Jeno ducked his head shyly as he raised a hand to acknowledge them, only setting their nervous titters off again. This situation was eerily familiar, déjà vu washing over you.

But this time, you were kind of glad that he had left his mask and hat at home, and that he’d chosen a table by the window.

Because your heart soared as you were once again reminded of who exactly the man in front of you was. Not just a model who was known internationally, with fans who would recognize him out and about, with a career and life that was under the public gaze constantly, but also a cute, sweet, funny guy named Lee Jeno.

You could do that. You could subject yourself to that. It would be fine as long as you had Jeno with you.

With the girls still watching the two of you, you reached a hand out across the table towards him. Thankfully, he took your lead, picking it up before pressing a few tender kisses to your fingers. Hopefully the girls got the message that this was romantic and private, and nothing else.

A dating rumor with Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you needed in your life. Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you needed in your life.

“Jeno?” You called for his attention, ignoring the gaggle of fans outside the window.

“Yes?” He focused on you, squeezing your hand.

“I have a question…”

“I thought the interview was over,” he pouted teasingly.

“It is, I swear.” You lifted your linked hands pointedly. “I just… There’s something that’s kind of been nagging at me, about the interview.”

“Ask away.”

“Why me? Like, I remember at our first interview session, you thought I was just going to ask you all the normal stuff about celebrity crushes and stuff.”

“You remember what I said, about my parents’ shop? How I used to help out there?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“When NingNing brought you to the lounge, and you said that thing about you being a normal person, and me being a supermodel, and how you weren’t comfortable around me because of that, it really hit me. I-I really hated that.”

“Jeno, I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s not your fault,” he insisted. “It’s nobody’s fault, that’s just how it is, how our culture is, or whatever. But I hated that you felt like that around me. Because I didn’t use to be like that. I used to be a normal person, too. And I just thought that if you and I had met a few years ago, when I was working in my parents’ shop or something, I could’ve talked to you like a normal guy, and I would’ve been able to put you at ease and flirt with you like a normal person. Instead of having to do it in the most roundabout way like I did this time.”

You grinned. “Oh, I don’t know, you would’ve still been a stupidly attractive register boy, Jeno. I might’ve been a bit tongue-tied if we had met back then, too.”

“I guess we’ll never know, will we?”

“I guess not,” you clicked your tongue. “Though that would’ve been an even better meet-cute than me saying you looked like a dog.”

“Oh, so we’re not telling that story to our kids?”

“Kids?!” You sputtered out. “When did kids enter the equation here, Lee Jeno?”

“What? Who said that?” He blinked at you innocently.

“At least say the L-word first, jeez.”

“I love you.”

“Christ, I was joking!”

“I wasn’t!”

You shook your head, unable to fight off the smitten grin on your lips. “I love you too, Jeno. You crazy son of a bitch.”

⤷ blog masterlist

567 notes · View notes

yutasbellybuttonpiercing · 8 months

Text

Soulmatch™ — App-grade your love life!

(new picture bc this is the renjun i imagined in this)

pairing: huang renjun x reader

au/genre: smut, humor, fluff, angst, strangers to enemies to lovers...?, non-idol!AU

characters: huang renjun, f!reader, best friend!jaemin, best friend!haechan, friend!chenle, renjun's parents

word count: 24.807 words (oh my god)

general warnings: mentions of cheating, men being dudes and dudes being bros, lack of communication, haechan is a milf hunter, trust issues, insecurities regarding relationships, hook ups, smoking, alcohol, mentions of vomit (nothing graphic or detailed, literally just the word), mentions of erectile dysfunction (???), emotional manipulation..? past na jaemin x reader, implied past huang renjun x wong yukhei / lucas, toxic masculinity, daddy issues, haechan and jaemin talk very vulgarly and do not know boundaries, mentions of virginity, crying, heartbreak, author makes use of their limited knowledge of tarot.

smut warnings: ...hate sex...?, unprotected sex (nuh-uh!), fingering and brief oral (f receiving), face-fucking, switch!renjun, switch!reader (?), pet names, a lot of imagining sex, brief choking, mentions of anal, creampie.

synopsis: Renjun is a hopeless romantic, his goal is to meet his perfect match by the end of the year, maybe even his soulmate. The perfect solution: an experiment for finding love through an app. Renjun doesn't care who it is, as long as they're a perfect match, he thinks. But then you show up...

a/n: i really love this so much. it's a bit different from what i usually do bc it has a real storyline! it's complicated (not really)! i really poured my heart and soul into this. i love renjun so much. argh! also, why do my endings always feel rushed???? help???

taglist: @she-is-dreaming @nctzennikki09 @babyjenono @noonaisreading

"Why the fuck do they need information on my favorite toys from ages five to ten?" Renjun groans, rubbing his temples before quickly grabbing ahold of his phone to facetime his mother. The ringing sound of his phone had always managed to annoy him, and he wonders whether there'd be a section in the forms where he could put that down.

Staring at himself on his screen, he fixes his brown hair. It had gotten quiet long over the past few weeks since his last haircut. Admittedly, he hasn't had the energy to leave the house, really, thankful for his freelancer job that allows him to work from the confines of his own four walls. Although, he'd thought about growing his hair out anyway.

Finally, his mother answers the phone.

"No, it's Renjun... No, turn the TV down! Down! Lower the volume," his mother shouts, not at him, but at what he could only assume is his father, judging by the Jackie Chan movie playing in the background, that after all these years, he can identify by the sounds only.

"Hello, Junnie," his mother finally addresses him, a gentle smile on her face, a harsh contrast to the annoyed frown she'd thrown at her husband earlier.

"Hey, mom," Renjun says, tapping on his own video so it would fill the screen instead of his mother's.

"How are you doing?"

"Fine, fine. Uh, listen. Do you remember which toys I liked when I was 5?" Renjun finally lets his hair fan over his forehead in peace, getting frustrated that it's not staying in the exact place he wants it to. He's only talking to his mother anyway. That woman'd wiped his ass a few years back, so why bother.

"What an odd question," she grins, briefly getting distracted by something happening behind her phone which she shoos away with her hand and a tight lipped frown that disappears as soon as he lays her eyes back on her son.

"I just need to know. It's really important."

"Okay, let me think. I believe you liked this one thing- this squishy" – her hand squishes the air in front of her phone – "what is it called?"

Renjun can hear his father's voice from behind the phone, "what? Plushie?"

"Yes! You had a plushie that you really liked!"

"A plushie..." Renjun mumbles, filling the letters into the field, "what color?"

"It was a cow."

"So black and white?"

"Those are the usual cow colors."

"Okay. And when I was six?"

"Honey, what do you need this for? Is it still this love calculator thing? You know I read that article about it online-" His mother raises her brows in concern.

"Yes, but I didn't want to say it, because-" Renjun's words get cut off by his father's obnoxiously loud voice as he yanks the phone from his mother's hands, his big head coming into view and Renjun has to immediately roll his eyes.

"That's nonsense, son, and you know it. Anyway, when will you come by again? I bought steak. You know no one can make steak like I do!"

"Yes, I know. I won't be able to make it any time soon, though." Renjun sighs, fingers fiddling with a loose string sneaking its way out of the couch cushion.

"What if I told you we had some fine wine?" – "Stop dragging our son into alcoholism," Renjun's mom finally wins the phone back, but Renjun can still hear his dad's laugh in the background.

Renjun huffs. "So? Year six?"

"Honey, I'm really not sure. You've had a fire truck phase, then enjoyed dinosaurs, then couldn't get enough of those collectable horses. You were a very diverse kid with so many different interests. I don't think you can categorize that or sort it into years. Just say that you liked all kinds of toys–"

"Even girls' toys!" His father laughs.

"Alright," Renjun sighs, pressing his lips tightly together before wishing his mother a good night and ending the call.

"All kinds of toys..." Renjun mutters to no one but himself as he types his answer into the box, shaking his head. He's been filling out these forms for days on end, and slowly he starts believing his parents' words that it's just nonsense.

But it is his only hope.

_____

"A what for what?" Donghyuck asks, mouth as full of burger as Renjun's own, hence why he couldn't understand him the first time. Renjun holds up his hand, chews aggressively, then swallows hard.

"An experiment for finding love," he explains a second time, and the crease in between Donghyuck's eyebrows only seems to be getting deeper with every word that leaves Renjun's lips.

"What the fuck is that?" Donghyuck asks (assumingely, Renjun still can't understand him over the huge bite of patty and bun inside of his mouth).

"You give a whole bunch of information about yourself to the scientists, and they use some software to find your ideal partner," Renjun explains briefly. There's a bit more to it than just that, but he doesn't want to overwhelm Donghyuck's brain while he's eating.

"Pff, okay?" Donghyuck says, a few crumbs of- whatever that had been only mere seconds ago flying out of his mouth and directly onto Renjun's forearm. The older contorts his face in utter disgust, shaking the sticky pieces of food off of his skin.

"You're a pig, Donghyuck," Renjun states, wiping the spot with his napkin because he can still feel Donghyuck's saliva on himself.

"I might be a pig, but at least I got game." Donghyuck finally swallows, grinning proudly with a small piece of lettuce stuck in between his teeth which Renjun has yet to decide telling him about after that insult.

"You don't have 'game'," Renjun spits, fingers motioning quotation marks, "you just have low standards. You'd fuck everything that bends over in front of you."

"That is not true!"

"Need I remind you of what happened with Chenle's mom?"

"She is a milf!" Donghyuck whines, letting his hands weakly fall down onto the table.

"Whatever." Renjun sighs. "Point is: I'm not lacking game, I just want to wait for the right person."

"Alright, two explanations, same outcome: your dick is dry as fuck," Donghyuck nods, pointing his fry at Renjun before he drags it through his vanilla milkshake and stuffs his mouth with it. Renjun presses his lips together, frowning slightly as he imagines the taste of that. "So when are you getting banged?"

"I don't want to get banged, Hyuck," Renjun answers, fingers coming up to rub at his temples. He knows he's lying, Donghyuck knows he's lying, so why did he lie? "There is more to it than sticking my dick up a hole."

"Just any hole? You didn't specify that it should be a pussy?" Donghyuck's eyes widen and he stops his motions. Renjun watches anxiously what a large amount of time Donghyuck's been holding a new fry into his milkshake for.

"I didn't. I don't care."

"You'd shag a dude?!" Donghyuck's shrill voice attracts the eyes of several people sitting around them.

"I don't know why you needed to let everybody know about that," Renjun say through gritted teeth, "but yes. I don't mind."

"I didn't know you were bi," Donghyuck finally sucks the fry into his mouth, then cleans his fingers with his tongue.

"I'm pan."

"Same thing."

Renjun opens his mouth to protest, but he's honestly a little drained to dispute with Donghyuck right now. Wow, what has he become...

"So, when are you finding real love, then?" Donghyuck tries again, empathically sensing that he just scratched at Renjun's teasing-limits and should therefore tone it down a little before he loses a friend.

"I finished filling out the forms a couple of days ago. They have to analyze it and then find someone in their data base. I'm not sure how long it's going to take," Renjun explains, losing a tad of hope with every word at the realization. It's probably going to take forever.

"Okay, then what do you say: one last time going out on pussy hunt with the boys?"

_____

Renjun realizes that this is not one of his proudest moments as he stands leaned against the bar. On the outside, he might look cool and relaxed (or at least that's what he strives for), but he's honestly close to being shit-faced and needs the bar for not losing his balance. Admittedly, it's been some time since Renjun's last time out and he's been a bit nervous.

"This is great, huh?" Chenle says next to him, cool as ever as he leans his back against the bar, keeping his balance with only his forearms. Renjun envies him.

"Totally," Renjun retorts sarcastically, but Chenle doesn't seem to pick up on it.

His other friends had already abandoned him, always with a dirty grin as they got dragged away by a pretty girl. Renjun just can't get behind this whole thing of hook-up culture. Why would you want that when you could- never mind, Renjun understands why people hook up. He really shouldn't judge other people when he's the one who signed up for a love experiment.

"So I heard this is going to be your last time going out with us?" Chenle asks, then takes a sip from his beer bottle. Renjun likes hanging out with Chenle, but the younger's busy schedule doesn't offer much time for friend activities. Chenle is generally laid back and doesn't judge others. Well, not really, he just likes to tease, but generally speaking, he is a good person to open up to.

"Yeah," Renjun answers shortly, not in the right state for a long conversation.

"Because of that love app?" Chenle asks, and Renjun briefly looks over at him to see a teasing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Yeah," Renjun repeats in defeat.

"I think it's cool," Chenle says, corners of his mouth turning downwards making him look impressed, but Renjun doesn't seem convinced. "You know, real love. It's rare these days, I think it's admirable. Really."

"Thank you," Renjun says, a gentle smile on his lips. "Hyuck's been teasing me a lot for it, but I just.. don't like this hook-up culture. I want to settle down."

"I get you, man." Chenle nods, clinking his beer bottle with Renjun's glass that contains the last few drops of a cocktail, then empties his bottle. As if on command, a girl leans against the bar next to him, whispers something into his ear while tugging at his sleeve. A grin forms on Chenle's face before he turns to Renjun.

"Sorry, gotta go. She says she needs Daddy." Chenle winks at Renjun who gives him a combination of a genuine chuckle and an awkward smile in return, then waves at Chenle's figure getting dragged towards the restrooms.

Renjun sighs, then his eyes scan the crowd. It's stuffy, the fog machine on a too high setting making it hard to even make out faces. It also feels hot, no wonder considering the amount of bodies dancing and sweating to the sound of the music, and the entire atmosphere feels too uncomfortable to find someone he could- sleep with. All of his friends are gone anyway, there's no way they could check if he got with someone or not. Sighing once again in defeat, Renjun decides to call it a night. He steadies himself, then tumbles over to the door, pushing it open to be hit by cool air. He immediately feels like he's drank 2 glasses of alcohol less than he actually did.

"Cigarette?"

_____

"This is not something I want to brag about," Renjun says the noon after, his butt placed on a chair in Donghyuck and Jaemin's man cave. It's actually just their shared home, but judging by the looks and smell of it, Renjun cannot not call it a man cave.

"Couldn't get it up?" Jaemin asks, an understanding nod moving his head. The younger looks messed up, respectfully, his hair tousled and eyes still not completely adjusted to being awake, the size of the cup of coffee in his hands an indicator of how he's feeling right now. Donghyuck really doesn't look any better, his body leaned over the table with his forearms supporting his weight.

"What? No!" Renjun shakes his head with a frown. He really loves his friends, but sometimes he wonders why he's even friends with them.

"Did you puke on her?" Donghyuck covers his mouth with his hand. Yeah, Renjun wonders in times like these.

"No."

"Did she puke on you?"

"No! There was no vomit involved," Renjun explains, eyes widened in alarm. This conversation slowly but surely makes him wonder how his friends' hook-ups tend to go... not that he wants to know, considering all this talk about throwing up.

"Then why are you not sharing every single detail?" Jaemin grins, scooting his chair closer to Renjun until he's uncomfortably pressed up against his cheek, reeking like coffee and sleep.

"Because..." Renjun frowns in defeat. "Because she was gone this morning."

"And? What, are your balls itchy?" Donghyuck raises his brows.

"What? Why would my balls be itchy?" Renjun whines, finally peeling his cheek away from Jaemin. "She didn't give me an STD, nor an UTI. W-we used a condom, I think."

"You think?" Donghyuck laughs, straightening his back from being leaned over the table for too long. "Did our Renjunnie hit it raw?"

"Honestly, I don't know why we're talking about this?"

"Did her pussy grip you too tightly to pull out?" Jaemin asks, nodding understandingly while padding his shoulder, "happens to the best of us."

"You're a maker, Renjun," Donghyuck adds.

"First of all, I don't know what that means. Second of all: the sex was fine! Great even-" Renjun tries to defend himself and his hook-up, even though he's not entirely sure why, considering she, well, left without a trace.

"Did she smell good?"

"What, her vagina?"

"Everything."

"Uh- yes? She used perfume, and everything else smelled healthy, I guess. But what I'm trying to say is-"

"Jaemin you bastard! You really have a problem, fucking panty sniffer!" Donghyuck laughs loudly, making Renjun instantly aware of his own hangover.

"Sue me," Jaemin leans back grinning, hands coming up in faux defense.

"It bothers me that she snuck out without even saying anything!" Renjun shouts, palm coming down on the table top with such force that both of his friends jump. It goes silent for a while until Donghyuck opens his mouth once again.

"I understand, man." He leans forwards, placing a palm on Renjun's shoulder. "That was really disrespectful of her." "Not cool," Jaemin chimes in supportively. "But look on the bright side: you'll never have to see her again."

"I guess that's true," Renjun mumbles, "but-"

"But?"

Hesitantly, Renjun looks into Jaemin's face, then into Donghyuck's. "It was really good."

Chaos breaks loose, both of them cheering loudly. Donghyuck begins laughing until his knees hit the floor – an impressive action considering the amount of alcohol his system has to fight – and even Renjun manages to crack a smile.

_____

"Jun, you might wanna see this," Donghyuck proposes hesitantly from the other room. Renjun, already annoyed about having to make his way all over to the living room and abandoning his brewing tea, sighs. What in the world could be important enough to summon him from the kitchen?

"Can't it wait?"

"Believe me when I say you might wanna see this."

Renjun aggressively throws his hands in the air for no one to see, he can't live in peace for even a second with this guy. Still, he stomps over, standing in the door frame with furrowed brows and crossed arms. "I swear if this is some stupid shit again-"

"It's your dating app."

Renjun rolls his eyes, "they've been sending useless messages for the past four months, I don't fucking care."

"It says they found a match." Donghyuck finally looks up from Renjun's phone, eyes wide and mouth shaped into an 'o' form. Renjun's own eyes bulge out at the preposition. "What?!"

He stumbles over, ripping the device from Donghyuck's fingers and holds it close to his face. Indeed, there's the notification. They found them. They found someone!

"Man you should really get your eyes checked if this is how-"

"Shut the fuck up, I'm the happiest man alive!" Renjun beams, smacking Donghyuck in the back of his head without lifting his gaze from the screen. Donghyuck mewls, and it sounds a little too much like a moan, but everybody knows Donghyuck is a little pain slut, so Renjun pays him no mind.

Renjun instead klicks on the notification, the application he hasn't visited in over half a year popping up slowly. There it is. The moment Renjun had anticipated for such a long time. He's a little disappointed that he can't visit this person's profile or anything, but he quickly forgets about it as his eyes land on a button that spells: 'send an invitation'.

"Hyuck, you have to go," Renjun announces, causing Donghyuck to lift his head, gaze drifting away from his own phone screen to look at Renjun perplexed.

"Eh?"

"Leave! I have to get ready," Renjun whines, peeling Donghyuck off of his couch by his wrist. Donghyuck complies balky, but lets himself get pushed out of the front door that Renjun closes in his face immediately, then rushes into the bathroom.

The invitation was sent for tonight, 8 pm. That means he has four hours to get himself and this shit hole he calls his home ready, and the task seems nearly impossible. That is until he finds himself, embarrassingly out of breath, ruffling his hair one last time in front of the mirror by the front door before the doorbell rings. He made it just in time.

His hands shake as he presses the button that opens the door, and a little harder even as he grips the handle to open the door to his apartment.

"Get a grip," he tells himself quietly, then puts on a smile as he listens to the footsteps climbing the staircases. His heart beats rapidly against his ribcage as his eyes focus on where is soulmate is going to appear in the next few seconds.

There, a foot comes into sight, followed by...

"You?!"

Silence.

"Hi?"

"I'm gonna need a minute-"

After splashing cold water in his face in the bathroom and pulling himself together, Renjun comes back to find you sitting on his couch, looking a little nervous, but generally contained and not as bothered by this disaster as Renjun. Sitting down, Renjun watches the arms move slowly over the face of his antique clock that with every passing second omits an obnoxiously loud ticking sound that is only overshadowed by the thick tension hanging in the air. Every once in a while, his gaze traces your form on the farthest end of Renjun's couch, staring blankly at the wall.

"Why did you sneak out?" Renjun puts his thoughts into words, eyebrows scrunched together in a mixture of anger and disappointment.

"It was just a hook-up," you turn your head to whine at him, "I don't know why you're making a big deal out of this?"

"Because it-" Renjun starts, but then decides that he'd much rather not appear pathetic in front of you for moaning about that being his last sexual encounter before formally agreeing to wait for the one.

"Alright," you sigh after a while, "I'm sorry, alright?"

Renjun clears his throat and nods, "okay. Thank you."

"I'd much rather talk about the important things right now," you say, turning your entire body to sit cross-legged on the couch facing Renjun. You take a deep breath before opening your mouth again. "I'm just going to say what everyone here is thinking: the app obviously made a mistake."

Renjun's eyebrows fly upwards as he blinks once, very slowly, "excuse me?"

"Yeah. I mean, no offense, but you're obviously a softie! And I like tall men,-"

"I don't think I'm getting this right, you fucked me before?!"

"Yeah, it was fine for a night, but-"

"And why am I a softie- or, first of all, why is that bad? We both did the experiment, we're both looking for a perfect match, or am I wrong?" Renjun did not even notice getting up from his place on the sofa, or when he started pointing an accusing finger at you.

"I don't know, you take it so serious-"

"And you're being a real bitch right now." Renjun furrows his brows even further as you get up as well to stand right in front of him, your pointer finger pushing into his chest.

"I do not appreciate you calling me that."

"I have done nothing wrong, I cleaned this whole place, and even when I realized that it had to be you, of all people, I was willing to work with it, but right now, I just want to..."

Renjun realizes how close you are to him right now, he can smell your perfume, the same scent you'd worn the other night. Even if it was whole while ago, he still remembers the dusty note that now once again tickles his nostrils, immediately taking him back to that night.

"...kiss you."

Renjun hasn't even closed his mouth before your lips press against his, your passion wild and untamed as your bodies press closer, your hands immediately going to his hair, gently pulling so it stings at his scalp as Renjun's own hands roam over your form to settle on your waist and ass.

His head is clouded, his mind hazy with the feeling of you against him. He's a little embarrassed of your affect on him, immediately growing hard in his pants as soon as you hump yourself against him, content sighs flowing from his mouth into yours.

It's hectic, hands touching everywhere at once all of a sudden, fingers clutching clothing in an attempt to rid the other of them, limbs tangling as Renjun moves the both of you to the nearby bedroom.

You somehow manage to peel yourselves out of your clothes, Renjun can feel how wet you are for him, and though he's so focused on only you, he can't help but comment spitefully, "you prefer tall men, huh?"

"Fuck you," you gasp before kissing him again, and Renjun does not quite know how to feel about this, maybe it's bad, maybe it's good, but he assumes that this type of behavior should not make his tummy fill with butterflies. It still does.

Renjun lines himself up with your hole, then thrusts forward. He doesn't take his time to prep you like last time, he finds that if you want to act like a bitch, you should be treated like one. He's also very perplexed that he's thinking like this, he never has, but he guesses you bring this side out in him.

You cry out in pure bliss as he stretches your walls that are struggling to take his size, your eyes rolling back at the overwhelming pleasure. Renjun's thrusts are quick and hard, ramming his tip against your spot in a way that makes you see stars and your thighs shiver around his waist.

Your orgasm approaches fast, almost embarrassingly fast considering you made such a fuss earlier, Renjun admits to himself, feeling proud as he pushes you over the edge with ease. The moans tumbling from your lips are nothing short of pornographic, and Renjun does not have it in him to shut you up for the sake of his neighbors.

Instead, he pulls out, then quickly replaces his cock with his fingers, pressing them upwards repeatedly to tickle another quick high out of you. His eyes are on you the entire time while yours are closed, assumingely overwhelmed with how good he's making you feel.

Once you writhe from overstimulation, Renjun removes his fingers as well, licking a fat stripe over your cunt before turning you around and pressing your face into the sheets.

"I'll show you how much of a softie I can be," he grunts before pushing in once again, his hand pressing against the back of your head as he crashes his hips into yours with such force that the bed frame penetrates imprints into his wall. Your moans are muffled, and Renjun decides that he'd much rather have his neighbors hear how good of a fuck he is, so he grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks you up.

"Oh God," you whine, back arching beautifully to take even more of him, and Renjun suppresses a coy grin at the fact that he's able to destroy you that easily.

"Hm? Not so soft now, huh?"

"I'm gonna cum again-" you announce, hands gripping the sheets as you try to ground yourself, to just take and take and take what Renjun gives you, and soon after he can feel you clench around him as another orgasm takes over you, leaving you weak and shaky.

"Too much?"

You shake your head, but Renjun pulls out nevertheless. "Get on your knees, I want you to suck me off."

Never in his life has Renjun seen someone hurry off a bed so eagerly. You open your mouth compliantly, like a well trained slut, and Renjun can simply push his cock between your lips and fuck your mouth. "Tap my leg when I should stop."

You nod quickly, then relax your jaw for him to use you. Renjun loves this sight of you. He remembers what you looked like when you came over, with pretty makeup and perfectly styled hair – and now everything's ruined, your hair messy and tangled, your makeup smudged by a mixture of tears and spit. Renjun loves how hazily your eyelids flutter as you try to look up at him, eyes seemingly focussing and un-focussing, more tears welling up in your eyes before they trickle down your cheeks, spit coating your chin as you gag a little.

Renjun believes he could get used to this.

_____

The sun tickling the tip of his nose is what wakes him up the next morning. With a groan, he tries to adjust his eyes to the bright light shining into his bedroom – the downside of having a bedroom that faces east. Once he realizes where he is, the memories of last night come flying back to him. He has to find his arms to be much emptier than when he went to bed the night before. He sighs, a hand coming up to run over his face. Honestly, he didn't even have to check the rest of his home to know that you snuck out again.

A mug filled with coffee in hand, Renjun lets out a shaky sigh. It stings, he's not going to lie, but maybe you have your reasons, maybe something came up, maybe you need time to think. Or maybe you just hate him and only want to use his desperate state of romanticism and body for your selfish nature.

This assumption is neither proven to be false nor correct when his doorbell rings a couple of months later. In the meantime, Renjun had done nothing but sulk, try to pull himself together, work non-stop to get you out of his mind, realized it's not working and went back to sulking, then the cycle repeated itself. He hadn't even updated his friends about the encounter for a lack of energy, basically. His apartment is a mess, empty to half-empty boxes of takeout littered all over the place, bottles with a last sip left left and right that Renjun trips over every few hours only to curse loudly and do nothing to clean them up afterwards. Basically, he's living like Donghyuck and Jaemin right now.

His feet drag him to the door. "Hello?"

"They're threatening me."

Renjun, without even having heard it twice through the speaker, recognizes your voice immediately. And before he knows it, his finger presses the button that opens the door with a buzzing sound. He curses at himself, panic arising as he listens to your heavy footsteps climbing up the stairs to his apartment. Once you step into sight, Renjun loses his ability to talk. Why do you have to look gorgeous? Why does he want to get on his knees and eat you out immediately? Why is he so weak?

You take fast steps and invite yourself into Renjun's home as he does nothing but take a few careful steps back. You then lock the door as you check the hallway behind the door through the peephole for any potential threats.

"Who?" Renjun finally gets out.

"The app developers," you mumble before retrieving from the door.

"Why?"

"They know I left, now they keep threatening me."

"I doubt that," Renjun frowns.

"Look!" You push your phone into his hands. Renjun curiously scans the last notifications the app sent you.

How did it go? Did you find your soulmate with us? Please rate us in the app store.

Hey! We found your soulmate! Now all you need to do is rate this experience.

Your soulmate is happy to have you. Thank you for working with us, please leave a rating in the app store.

Rate your love experience now!

Renjun snorts.

"What?" You watch him with furrowed brows and crossed arms.

"These are hardly threats."

"They just keep coming, this has to be a threat. Haven't you gotten any?"

"I don't know, I don't have the app anymore," Renjun mumbles.

"Right..." you say, finally taking a first look around the place. "And what happened here?"

"Stop judging me!" Renjun turns his back to you while crossing his arms. Of course he hadn't had the time to deep clean his apartment when he was busy sulking and writhing in self-pity for the past months. And, to be fair, it was all your fault!

"Alright, maybe they're not threats, per-se. They still made me feel bad..."

"Oh?" Renjun turns back around, eyebrows raised. "It has a heart?"

"Ha-ha," you deadpan, but Renjun can't suppress a smile as he makes his way over to the kitchen to grab himself something to drink, and you kicking your shoes off, and then following him on track like a lost puppy.

Renjun opens the fridge and pours himself a glass of the fruity water he's prepared a few hours ago (not because he felt like it, only because he was afraid the remaining fruit his mom brought over because she coincidentally happened to be in town a few days ago would go bad if he didn't use them). He lifts the glass to his lips and takes a refreshing sip.

You watch him set the glass down on the counter. "Aren't you going to ask me if I want something?"

With a hint of playfulness that he does not want to give away under any circumstances, Renjun scoffs, "yeah, as if I'm going to be nice to you after the stunt you pulled. Twice." Renjun holds up two of his fingers to highlight his words.

Your brows furrow as you open your mouth to complain, but you must have realized he's right, so you shut it again, turning into a cute pout instead. "I'm sorry. It's just- it's hard-" You give up and press your lips together tightly. "Can we- start over?"

"Oh? From what point?" Renjun raises his brows, lifting his hand to count with his fingers, "when you abandoned me the first time? When you insulted me? Or when I fucked you so good you couldn't stop drooling on the sheets?" He smiles in victory at your shocked expression. "To which I could also add: the first or the second time." He wiggles two fingers in front of your face with a smug smirk.

"I wish I could say this behavior of yours irritates me to the point where I just want to give up, but you're kind of hot looking all messed up and heart-broken because of me while sporting that victorious grin," you say and step towards him.

"Ah, really?" Renjun's confident shell starts to crumble.

"Why don't we start from the beginning?" You stop right in front of him, and Renjun has to press his ass against the counter to keep that little distance that allows him to breathe. Amused, the corner of your mouth twitches, then you extend your hand as your gaze bores into his.

"Hi, my name is ____ and I would love to suck your cock."

Renjun hates the way his breath hitches as he carefully shakes your hand for a reason he is not aware of. "I-I'm Renjun," he simply says, and the playful smirk on your face widens as you pull your hand out of his to lay atop of the waistband of his sweatpants. Renjun hates it even more that he feels his blood that just milliseconds ago thumbed through his ears now rushing downwards awakening his cock.

"Do you want me to suck you off?" Your voice is bittersweet as you bat your lashes at Renjun who gulps before breathing out a "yeah".

You smile, fingers untying his sweatpants before you push your hand inside to feel him up. "So hard, all for me? What a good boy you are, Renjun."

Renjun bites down on his lip, face contorting in pleasure as he feels you feel him up and down, his hips push forward involuntarily. Why do you have to be like this? Why can't you just be- less enticing, less hot, less able to turn his brain to complete mush every time he sees you? Renjun knows where this is going, you're going to give him the best, most amazing, jaw-dropping, eye-rolling, toe-curling head of his life, and then you're going to walk out that door as if there aren't still drops of Renjun's cum trickling down your esophagus.

Just as your hands leave the inside of his pants to pull them down his legs, Renjun grabs ahold of your wrists. Your eyes widen in surprise.

"No," Renjun catches your gaze that holds a whole lot of insecurities in them, or so he assumes. "I am not letting you touch me until I know you won't leave me again."

The look in your eyes tells him that something about this interaction hit a nerve very deep down, so he tries to lighten the mood with a light joke and a careful smile. "At least take me out on a date before you use me."

Jackpot, he realizes, as you scoff and pull your wrists from his grasp. "Alrighty then, what do you want to eat?"

_____

The wideness of his eyes expands exponentially with every word you tell the guy behind the counter of the nearest Subway who prepares your sandwich. He could mouth along your order because, even up until the sauce, it's identical with his. Hence, all he tells the guy once he's finished is "the same". You seem not to notice – or care – and the quick walk back home is quiet despite the tornados of thoughts winding through Renjun's mind. Is this how the app worked? Match people with similar taste in food? Though he doesn't remember putting his Subway order in when submitting his forms.

Arriving at home, you ask Renjun to put on a show to watch while eating, and when he plays his all time favorite, Modern Family, you announce that that's your favorite as well.

Renjun watches, half in awe and half scared for his life, as you practically inhale the foot-long sandwich in front of his eyes, and he feels his heart thumb just a little faster seeing you all domestic like this; not dolled up, and not with his cum dripping from some part of your body, just you being you. Apparently, he likes you more than he likes to admit, he's afraid.

"I think I'm going to delete that app as well," you announce as you wipe the remaining sauce and crumbs from the corners of your mouth.

"How so?"

"I have you now, don't I?" You shrug, placing your plate on the coffee table in front of the couch. Renjun's heart jumps at your words, then sighs and happily sinks deeper into the comfort of his chest.

"Does that mean- I mean-" But he is shushed by your finger pressing against his lips, that makes his eyes widen.

"Shh, baby boy, don't ruin it." You say, then get up.

"Where are you going?"

"Will you calm down? I just want to pee!" You whine, then march off towards his bathroom, and Renjun wants to punch himself in the face for watching you go with a smitten gaze, but he can't help staring. You're just too gorgeous. He loves the way you're so relaxed and funny, sighing lovingly as he admires your beauty coming back from the restroom to sit down next to him with a thud and a weirded out expression on your face.

"Why are you looking like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like I just took your virginity in a field of dandelions."

"I am not!"

"Whatever. Can we fuck now?"

The little hearts circling around Renjun's heart – metaphorically – shatter. "Are you being serious?"

"I hate to admit this too, but you're pretty good at what you're doing."

"I am more than just a toy for you to use!" Renjun argues, setting his plate down on the coffee table next to yours. Anger is visibly written all over his face, and you seem to finally get the hint that he's serious about this.

"Alright, then. What do you wanna do instead? Cuddle?!" You suggest, and although it does not seem like this is a legitimate offer, Renjun takes it.

"Yeah, for example!"

And that's how your back ends up pressed to his front as you watch TV, not without a last roll of your eyes, of course, and while Renjun affectionately plays with your hair, he has time to relish in the feeling of being loved for the first time since forever, even if he had to threaten you with deprivation of sex. Later, you even fall asleep in his arms, in his bed, and when he wakes up the next morning, you are snoring soundly besides him.

_____

"Do you want to meet my friends?" Renjun asks casually over the steam evaporating from the hot coffee mugs on the breakfast table. You have half a Baozi in your mouth, and Renjun can only guess your next words as they come out.

"What? Why? Are we getting married?" He assumes you say.

"No, I just thought, you know, since things were getting serious-"

"We are?!" You muffle with wide eyes.

Over the past days that you'd spent at Renjun's place without missing a single day (except for the 4 hours when you went to get your stuff... 4 hours that drove Renjun insane with fear that you wouldn't return), Renjun kind of started to wonder what it is that you're doing for a living that you can just disappear like that without anyone wondering where you are, but he noticed that you do not like to talk much about yourself. All he knows that your interests and taste are, quite frankly, scarily similar to his own. He assumes that you are just careful when it comes to opening up to people, so he is more than thrilled when he finds you next to him every single morning and decides that there will be a time and place for you to bond over deep talk.

"Calm down, I didn't mean it like that. It's just that we've been hanging out a lot and I think it would be... fun?" Renjun suggests carefully. A weight lifts off his heart as your wide eyes shrink back to their normal size and you take your time to chew and swallow before your answer.

"Okay." And then you stuff the other half of the steamed bun into your mouth.

"Great! I'll text them!"

"Today?!"

"We really have to stop talking about this while we eat."

"It's okay, do it whenever, honestly." But only muffled sounds and a few crumbs come out.

"What?"

You roll your eyes dramatically, then point yourself.

"You?"

You nod, then point to Renjun. "Me?"

Then you squiggle your pointer and forefinger in a way that resembles a pair of legs – "go?" – you nod, then point downwards – "here?" – you shake your head – "today?" – you nod frantically and press your pointer finger to your thumb – "okay?"

You finally swallow. "Man, I said it's okay if we go today."

"That was absolutely unnecessary. Now go get ready, I'll text them."

_____

"Where is your other half?"

"Probably inside of someone," Donghyuck says about the lack of Jaemin at the table, but his eyes are intensely focused on you. You on the other hand seem to have found great interest in your fingernails and refuse to take your eyes off of them. "Yo, is she shy or something?"

"I'm not," you say, your eyes snapping up to gaze at Donghyuck who looks a little taken aback. You smile sweetly, then reach over the table to shake his hand. "I'm sorry, I was just a little distracted. Hey, I'm the girl that Renjun fucks."

Renjun chokes on his own spit, and Donghyuck snorts loudly. You lean against the backrest of the McDonald's seat and grab Renjun's hand to hold. Renjun, finally recovered from his near-death-experience, can't believe what's happening as his eyes zone in to where your fingers intertwine with his. It even makes him miss that that was a complete lie since the no-sex-until-i-know-you-won't-leave-thing is still on the table.

"So, how is he? In bed, I mean?" Donghyuck folds his hands beneath his chin and leans forward interestedly.

"Oh, he's great, really! He doesn't look like it, but he has a lot of stamina. And, to be fair, he's not the biggest, but it gets the job done nicely, I especially love it when he-"

"Can we not talk about my dick in a McDonald's?! Please?!"

"Oop, looks like we hit a sore spot-" Donghyuck remarks.

"I am not insecure about- you know what? Fuck you. Go get the food, it's ready," Renjun snaps and pushes the receipt with the pick up number on it into Donghyuck's hand who throws you another knowing look before strolling off to get the food.

"I will not apologize for-"

"You're holding my hand," Renjun states.

"What?" Your eyebrows contort in confusion.

"My hand, you're holding it," Renjun says, lifting both of your hands into your line of sight to prove his point.

"Yeah, so?"

"I like that."

A genuine smile spreads over your face and you bite your lip, maybe to suppress it, but Renjun saw it, and look down at your lap. Donghyuck appears again, tray in hand, and Renjun would've missed your quiet whisper of "he likes that" if his entire world wasn't revolving around you right now.

"What are we talking about?" Donghyuck grins as he slides back onto his seat, immediately pulling a fry out of the box and dunking it in his milkshake. Renjun, still in awe that you're holding his hand, immediately notices how your face contorts in disgust.

"Why the fuck are you doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Dipping your fry."

Renjun watches with heart-shaped eyes how Donghyuck's mouth opens and closes for a lack of a proper response, because – shit – that is exactly what he's been thinking for the past five years.

"Because I like it?"

"Alright," you shrug, then attend to your cheeseburger. Renjun mirrors your action, lifting the top half of the bun to peel the single slice of pickle off the surface before sticking the burger back together, not noticing how you do the exact same thing until Donghyuck points it out.

"So? That's what it's like when you found a match. Another great advantage is having only one partner whom you engage in sexual activities with. Ah, by the way, how is your itchy sack?"

"Good one, babe," you compliment as Donghyuck's face falls onto his BigMac, and Renjun could not feel any better at that exact moment.

"Sorry I'm late!" The voice of no other than Na Jaemin appears behind Renjun only to reveal said man seconds later as he flops down next to Donghyuck, forcing him to squeeze further against the wall. Donghyuck complains, but no one pays him any mind.

A heavy grin adorns Jaemin's face, an expression Renjun's grown to know like the back of his own hand over the past years. Jaemin's post orgasm glow is so bright and blinding that Renjun's sure he must have just gotten a blowjob in the McDonald's bathroom. His tongue slurps parts of his McFlurry off his spoon. Renjun watches as Jaemin's gaze runs over to you, and as if someone's flipped a switch inside him, Jaemin's smile drops. If the sudden silence wasn't so ear numbing, one would've heard it smash to the ground and shatter into pieces. Even Donghyuck has stopped munching on his food to scan the situation, the end of a fry sticking out from between his lips.

Renjun's heart stops, then starts thumping up his throat as he slowly turns his head towards you, and this exact process repeats itself as he sees how pale you've gotten. Your eyes are trained on Jaemin, and Renjun can see you gulp once before you suddenly get up, the legs of the chair disgustingly scratching over the floor, and leave the fast food restaurant with hurried steps.

Despite desperately wanting to know what the fuck just happened, Renjun hastily gets up to run after you, calling out your name, once, twice, but when he reaches the doors, panting breath creating soft clouds in the cool air, you're out of sight.

_____

Ah, what a great morning. That is what Renjun would have thought if it was opposite day. He is devastated. You are nowhere to be found, the apartment empty since he returned and he still regrets not asking for your number sometime during the past days, though there was no need since you'd spend all your time at his place anyway. But now you're not. You're gone, and Jaemin refuses to let him in on what exactly happened between the two of you that made you leave the place in a hurry, only for Renjun to find Jaemin gone as well as soon as he returned. He only found Donghyuck sitting at the table, dragging his last fry through the milkshake. They finished their meal in silence.

As the doorbell rings, Renjun falls off the couch, scrambles up and runs to answer the door. It's not you, though, it's Donghyuck, who for once decided to be a good friend and check in on Renjun, even though the latter would rather just lie down in a puddle of his own tears, and sob.

"I'm sorry, man," Donghyuck says, dragging Renjun into his arms for comfort. Renjun simply sighs. The warmth of Donghyuck's hug does actually help ease some of the tension in his heart, and when they part, Renjun invites Donghyuck in for some tea.

"Do you know what happened?" Renjun asks as he hands Donghyuck his mug.

"Not a clue. Jaemin hasn't even been home. I have some theories, though." Donghyuck takes a sip and curses after burning his tongue.

"That are?" Renjun is actually relieved to have someone else break their brain over this situation that is not him.

"Number one: Jaemin is her lost brother."

Renjun blinks.

"Number two: Jaemin fucked her mother and destroyed her parent's marriage."

Renjun raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, number three: Jaemin fucked her mother and is her father."

Renjun raises a hand to slap him.

"Okay, okay! Sorry. Number four, and this actually goes two ways. Four point one: They fucked and she is the one girl that broke Jaemin's heart and made him this way."

Renjun does not like the sound of that at all.

"Four point two: They fucked and Jaemin broke her heart and that's why she can't commit."

"I hate all of your theories with my entire being," Renjun admits, "Do you have one that does not mean something bad?"

"Um..." Donghyuck thinks for a while that, admittedly, lasts too long for Renjun to relax, "Jaemin once saved her cat and she never got the chance to thank him because- he fucked her mom- I'M SORRY that's all I can think of."

Renjun sighs. "I don't know. I just wish she would care about me enough to just talk to me, you know?"

"I don't think that's the problem," Donghyuck suggests and Renjun looks away from his steaming mug and at Donghyuck instead. "I think she cares about you a lot, but there seems to be some sort of past trauma that makes it hard for her. I mean, I'm not a specialist since you" – a glaring Donghyuck points an accusing finger at Renjun – "refuse to update me about every little thing like I asked you to, but I don't think this has as much to do with you as you think."

"I've never thought about it that way," Renjun admits, and a little weight drops off his heart at the fact that he is possibly not at fault, and neither are you. "Thank you, Hyuck, honestly."

"No biggie." Donghyuck shrugs with a smug smirk. "You can pay me back in kind."

"What do you mean?"

"A smooch." Donghyuck puckers his lips, but at the same time, the doorbell rings a second time that day, causing Renjun to jump and run towards the obnoxious sound. This time, it really is you.

"Can we talk?" You ask as you stand in his doorway, and Renjun can't do anything but blink in awe because, honestly? He thought he'd never see you again.

"Um, not to be rude, but we're kind of in the middle of something here," Donghyuck says with his lips still puckered for Renjun to kiss. Renjun, without taking his eyes off of you in case you'd vaporize once he looked away for even a split second, ushers Donghyuck to leave since, "he was on his way out, actually."

Not without throwing a little tantrum, Donghyuck lets himself get pushed out of Renjun's apartment. Renjun whispers another 'thank you' and blows him a kiss before closing the door in Donghyuck's face.

_____

"I didn't know you started smoking again," Renjun comments as you sit on his sad excuse of a balcony.

"This is for the vibe," you say, and blow the smoke into the air. "And maybe I had a drink."

"Okay."

Silence.

"This is really scary for me," you admit, and Renjun assumes that you're talking about opening up.

"You can trust me, I'm not going anywhere," Renjun assures, placing a careful arm around your waist and a kiss to your temple.

"Jaemin was my first love."

Renjun gulps. He feels a little part of his heart break off and shatter against his ribcage, leaving a stinging pain behind. Great, so you know Jaemin, and not only that, he happened to be the first one you've ever let into your heart. Renjun assumes that it's been a couple of years since then, but knowing Jaemin, he couldn't possibly be the best first love, or a good one even. Don't get him wrong, he dearly loves Jaemin – in a platonic way – but the way he treats girls is not something he should be as proud of as he is. But maybe he hasn't always been like this. Maybe you were the one to make him like this.

"Go on," Renjun finally coughs out. His hands feel a little shaky, maybe even a little sweaty, and he feels the need to wrap them around the metal railing separating him from free falling to his death.

"It was back in school. I fell for him immediately. He made me feel like the only girl in the world."

Renjun dares to look over at you to watch you sigh, dragging on your cigarette once again. You look incredibly pained, and as much as he wants you to shut up because it seems to be hurting not only him, but you as well, he needs to know.

"Well, that was until he took my virginity. Never saw him again after that until," you pause, clear your throat and take a deep breath and continue pressed with your eyes closed, "until today."

Renjun takes a minute to calm down his mind from running thoughts on overspeed. "I'm- so sorry that happened to you. I wish I could say he's not like that anymore, but... well, his moral compass enhanced a little... um..." Renjun removes his hands from the railing, wiping them on his jeans, then turns to you. "Look, I can see why you wouldn't want to hang out w-"

"No," you interrupt him, dragging on your cigarette once more before carelessly flicking the bud onto the streets below, then you turn to him, take a careful step forward and take his hands into yours. "I trust you. I want you to be the right one. I want you to break this pattern, I want you to change my future."

Renjun does not know how to respond. There's a part of him that wants to pay Jaemin a visit and punch him, but he knows better than to start a physical fight with Na Jaemin, the local gym's best customer. And besides, what would it matter? It's not like violence would change anything. "May I hug you?"

You nod, and Renjun wraps his arms around you to pull you into his chest. His chin rests in the crook of your neck, breathing in the sweet scent of your shampoo, and he is not sure whether it's a good thing that he falls for you more and more every second he spends with you.

_____

Renjun decided that it would be best not to see Jaemin for some time, mostly in favor of his own well being considering that Jaemin would dominate him if it ever came to a physical confrontation. Instead, he focuses his energy on making you feel loved and protected, and makes sure he never gives you the impression of leaving you. He mostly enjoys the quiet nights with you, creating as much physical contact as possible without being uncomfortable, and freely talking into the rise of the sun.

Renjun learned that it's only been you and your mom, most of the time, since your dad cheated on her when you were still a child. Then, as soon as you turned eighteen and got your first real job, your mother left the country. Not without saying goodbye, but apparently, she made it clear that she didn't want to stay in contact. Ever since, it's only been you. You'd always been by yourself, having to care for yourself, working hard to make enough money to be able to afford rent and food. In a way, you had raised yourself to be independent, and your past encounter with Jaemin must have just intensified your bias not to trust men after what your father did to your mother.

Still, that's all Renjun knows about you. And after 3 months of living together, he kind of wishes to know where you live – well, when you're not living with him – what you do for a job, if you have any friends for him to meet, but all he knows is your zodiac sign. Although, he calms himself down by telling himself that you need time to build up trust. After everything that's happened to you, Renjun is the last person wanting to pressure you.

It's only that one particular conversation with his friend Donghyuck he doesn't seem to be able to let go.

"How long have you been living together?" Donghyuck asked as he ripped a small piece off of the bread in his hand to throw it into the pile of ducks gathered in front of them at the pond at the local park. Donghyuck loves to go there to feed the ducks, and Renjun almost found it cute until Donghyuck told him the real reason behind his regular visits to feed the ducks at the pond: picking up girls.

Donghyuck swears that this is the perfect way to get a "chick" (his words, not Renjun's) to fall for you. Either they love this sweet, domestic side of a man who is soft enough to go feed ducks in his spare time which inevitably makes him boyfriend material, or they're there with their kids and- Renjun can't recall how this was different from the first thing. He only remembers thinking that Donghyuck has a weird obsession with older women, and the freudian curiosity in Renjun kind of pushes him to find out more about what that's about. Maybe another time.

"Almost three months," Renjun smiled widely, ready to spill information about all the great memories he had made with you over the past 11 weeks, like when he accidentally sent the pizza delivery guy to the wrong address or when the both of you giggled too loudly at a YouTube video until his downstairs neighbor knocked at his door and begged for you to shut up (admittedly, there's not much going on), but Donghyuck interrupted him with his hand hitting Renjun square in his solar plexus.

"Three months?! Woah, get it champ! How often do you do it?" Donghyuck asked, completely ignoring the way Renjun had to fight not to double over and slide face forward into the pond.

"We-" Renjun coughed and was finally able to stand up straight again. "We actually don't have sex at all."

In hindsight, Renjun's knowledge of physics and anatomy make him doubt the reaction he remembers, but he vividly recalls Donghyuck's eyes to drive out of his skull as he jumped about 3 meters into the air. Summarized: Donghyuck was a little surprised!

"Um, well, I didn't think it would hit you this early, but there are ways, man." Donghyuck patted Renjun's shoulder brotherly. "I still have a few pills at home if you want to try them. I get them from this one guy, and they're worth every penny, let me tell you-"

"I do not suffer from erectile disfunction," Renjun clarified and Donghyuck quickly shut his mouth, blinked a few times, then began to defend himself about how he doesn't need them to get hard, just to stay hard longer or whatever.

"Anyway," Renjun side-eyed Donghyuck as he finally stopped talking, "I just... don't want her to leave me again."

"Ah, that's how the land lies," Donghyuck grinned, "but buddy, it's been months, don't you miss it?"

"Not really," Renjun lied without cause.

"Don't you miss the way it feels?" Donghyuck leaned closer, warm breath tickling Renjun's ear and neck, his voice getting whiney and full of lust as he explained the warm, wet feeling of a-

"Okay, maybe I do!" Renjun said in defeat, holding onto Donghyuck's hands to stop them for making lewd gestures.

"Then there's nothing stopping you. Well, except for the fact that it's very weird how she just lives with you. Doesn't she have a job? Does she pay rent?" Donghyuck frowned at Renjun with raised eyebrows.

Renjun squinted his eyes at him, frowning as well. "Where is this coming from?!"

"I'm just saying, you should ask her about that." Donghyuck shrugged and poured the remaining bread crumbs from his paper bag onto the ground, causing ducks to zoom out of the water and gather around their feet.

"I don't want to pressure her. You know how hard it is for her to open up," Renjun reasoned, but Donghyuck seemed to be having ulterior motives, throwing a wink into the direction of a middle aged woman with a stroller. Renjun watched for a few moments as Donghyuck pressed his tongue into his cheek smugly, then shouted "just gave him some relationship advice while feeding the ducks", and how the woman chuckled and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, then decided he's seen enough.

Sadly, turning off one's ears had not been invented yet, Renjun thought as he stepped away after patting disinterested Donghyuck's shoulder as goodbye, still hearing Donghyuck ask her about the child's father, how come such a beautiful woman doesn't have a strong man at her side, and what she's going to be doing tonight.

_____

"Baby?" Renjun enters the living room to find you sitting in front of the couch on the carpet, carelessly browsing through a magazine with your playlist randomly playing tunes in the background.

"Hey!" Your eyes light up as you see him. Renjun sits down beside you, a slight smile on his face as he takes in how beautiful you look tonight, just like all nights.

"What are you up to?" He asks, curiously leaning forward to be able to look at the magazine as well.

"It's just a women's magazine, it's like fashion and make-up trends an stuff," you explain briefly still scanning through the pages before your eyes light up once again as you turn to look at Renjun.

"What?" Renjun chuckles nervously, but simultaneously loving the look on your face.

"Could I.. do your make-up?" You ask straightforwardly. Renjun's eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise, mouth shaping an 'o' as he looks up thinking about it briefly. He's never gotten his make-up done before, and although the thought had never occurred to him before, it does sound like a fun couple's activity to do together that could lead to excellent bonding time. Therefore, he smiles and nods at your request.

Renjun coos at how you get up to grab your make-up bag with a slight excited jump in your walk, then watches how you lean down to fish it out of your bag, gulping hard and averting his gaze as you so carelessly present your ass to him. The conversation with Donghyuck still playing in his mind, he realizes that, apart from wanting to know more about you, he really does miss being inside of you physically.

Before he knows it, you're back on the carpet next to him, opening your bag to reveal the endless depths of its contents, various pencils and brushes, tubes and bottles that Renjun knows close to nothing about.

"What do you want me to do?" You ask, and Renjun smiles contently.

"Whatever you want, I'm yours to play with," he confirms before realizing the ambiguous meaning of his words. He still means them, in both ways.

Although, you do not seem to be catching on, shuffling to sit in front of Renjun instead to have a better look at his handsome face. "Your skin is pretty, so let's skip foundation," you decide and Renjun's smile grows at the implied compliment. Instead, you brush his messy bangs out of his face to be able to get a better look at his eyes.

"Can I do your eyeliner?" You ask, gazing deeply into his eyes, and honestly, you could've asked him to jump out of the window and he'd respond with the same breathy 'yes' he did just now. Especially now after you've climbed into his lap for better access.

"Okay," you giggle, now a black pencil in your hand, "look up!"

Renjun does his best to follow your orders, but the eyeliner feels very foreign on his eyes, and as you ask him to look down next, he is met with your cleavage greeting him, and he has to concentrate on not popping a boner instead.

After a while, you lean back, admiring your work as Renjun blinks a few tears away.

"You look pretty," you admit, handing Renjun a little mirror to see for himself. And as he catches his own reflection, he must admit that you're right. He does look pretty, but honestly, he could've looked like trash right now and he'd still do this over and over again just to be close to you.

"Thank you, I agree!" He smiles, handing you the mirror back.

"How about lipstick next?" You suggest and Renjun's eyes immediately dart down to your lips, remembering the last time his own lips touched them for longer than a quick peck, and longing for that feeling. So instead of answering, he nods, trying his best to conceal his nervousness.

A lipstick in hand, you get comfortable on his lap again, seemingly either ignoring or not caring what your shuffling does to him, then attend to his lips. Renjun's now able to watch your face closely as you apply the tinted product onto his lips, falling in love with the way you look when you concentrate on something.

Your gentle fingers tap the lipstick onto his lips, spreading the color gently to create a faded look, but Renjun doesn't really care anymore. His eyes keep focussing on your lips, yearning to taste them again, and he feels like it's showing with the way he keeps leaning in closer.

His heart skips a beat as he looks up into your eyes again to see them already looking into his, and he doesn't even have to say anything before you close the gap in between your mouths and begin kissing him gently, leaving one, two, three kisses on his lips before drawing back to look into his eyes again.

No words are exchanged, it's just him who leans in this time, breathing in deeply through his nose as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. He completely loses himself in you and the slow song playing in the background. Your lips feel heavenly, and Renjun admits that it's really been too long since the last time he got to taste them.

Your hands stroke over his body just as his do to yours, gentle moans fall from both of your lips as you carefully grind down against Renjun's prominent bulge. It doesn't take long for him to turn you around, gently laying you on your back to the soft carpet, caging you in with his arms and deeply gazing into your eyes. You strip each other of every piece of clothing, taking your sweet time to show the other how you feel, and as Renjun finally enters you, he feels like this is where he belongs.

_____

"Hyuck, I'm telling you, it was absolutely fantastic," Renjun beams, hands in the air metaphorically mimicking a large object to visualize how much fun he's had with you the night prior.

"I'm guessing the rule of premarital abstinence is off the table?" Donghyuck teases, face mockingly serious, though a brow sneaks its way upwards to hint at his playfulness. Renjun presses his lips together, hands sinking to the table.

"You are just jealous that woman in the park only wanted you to be her new babysitter," Renjun shoots back.

"That's what her mouth said, but do you know what her body said to me about thirty minutes later as I rammed my dick in her?" Donghyuck crosses his arms, pressing his tongue into his cheek smugly, and Renjun just stares blankly ahead, right through Donghyuck's insufferable ego as if it was see-through and not as solid as concrete. Donghyuck leans forwards, forearms holding his weight hovering over the tabletop.

"Ah, fuck, you're so big, Donghyuck. Please, d-don't tell my husband. H-he really can't find out that you're making m-me feel so much better than him, ugh, God, I wish you were the father of my children," Donghyuck moans, high pitched and fake like a porn star, and Renjun snorts, laughter that threatened to come out winning the battle against his muscles, and he's sure he spit on Donghyuck in the process. Payback.

"Sorry," Renjun says and doesn't mean it, "have you talked to your therapist about this 'Mommy'-thing?" Donghyuck sighs and rolls his eyes.

"It's not a 'Mommy'-thing. I don't want them to be my mom, I don't want them to pack me a lunch box and sing me a lullaby," Donghyuck explains.

"Then, what?" The corners of Renjun's mouth twitching downwards, threatening another wave of laughter to burst out with vigor.

"Older ladies know what they want in life. They went through labor and stuff and mostly already found a man, so when they want me, I feel good. Also, they know how to please a guy, you know?" Donghyuck says, and Renjun's eyes are about to pop out from the sole pressure of trying to keep his amusement from spitting Donghyuck in the face again.

"Alright, then, if my love life is so laughable, why don't you give me some insight on how great your girlfriend's cunt squeezes around your dick?" Donghyuck crosses his arms, meaning to sound petty and passive-aggressive, even though Renjun knows that he is eager to hear every little detail.

"Does everything have to be this graphic with you?" Renjun contorts his face in faux disgust, but huffs out a chuckle, not ready to admit that, in all honesty, Donghyuck's words sent him right back to last night when you came around him, milking him for all he's worth.

"It does. Whether you like it or not, this is what you signed up for when you started calling me your friend. Now spill," Donghyuck raises a threatening finger.

"I don't know if I'm comfortable giving out information to fuel your next wanking session with my girlfriend," Renjun notes, but continues to spill the details nonetheless. "So, all in all, very romantic until I was like 5 seconds pre-orgasm and 'Jopping' started playing."

"Did you-"

"I did nut to 'Jopping'."

"I guess you were really jumping and popping," Donghyuck examines, then thinks a little longer, "I guess you were a big boy throwing three stacks."

Renjun looks at him, lips turning into a thin line before he slaps his thighs and gets up. "I think I should go?"

"I guess you really made it bang," Donghyuck says and gets up as well, following Renjun into the hallway with quick footsteps. "I guess you really made the crowd go wild in a small room."

"Stop!" Renjun begs, giggling nevertheless as he slips his jacket on.

"I guess you really got that glow."

"Donghyuck!!" Renjun shrieks, not even fully slipping into his shoes before he grabs his bag and opens the door, Donghyuck behind him clutching his stomach laughing. Though, Renjun gets surprised by someone already standing outside the door, the grin immediately falling off his face as he sees who it is.

"I guess it's in your- " Donghyuck starts, but the second he sees the person in front of the door, his laughter dies down, "... nature."

"Hello, stranger," Renjun says sarcastically, squinting his eyes at Jaemin who simply gulps. It's not like Jaemin to not say anything, or to not smile. Renjun immediately feels a little sorry, but at the same time, he doesn't.

Jaemin simply nods before squeezing in between Renjun and the wooden door frame, kicking his shoes off hastily and hurrying past a flabbergasted Donghyuck towards his room. Renjun's eyes follow him disappear, and when he hears the door to Jaemin's room close shut, he feels reminded of how things really started going downwards as soon as you crossed paths with Jaemin again. Of course it bothers him knowing one of his best bros 1) had his dick in Renjun's girlfriend and 2) broke her heart and scarred her for life. What bothers him almost more is how things went well, they were okay, but now Jaemin needed to show up again and make Renjun question everything he's built with you.

What if Donghyuck is right? What if it really is weird that you keep staying at his place? Why is there never a place you have to be? Admittedly, Renjun had pushed this uncomfortable feeling of something being off with your stay to the very back of his brain, not wanting to destroy what you have, not wanting to waste his last chance for love because of something as insignificant as 'oh no, my girlfriend won't leave and I also don't want her to', but suppressing worries is never the answer. No matter how far you push them away, they always resurface to bite you in the butt. And sometimes they bite you in the butt in human form with a perfect, pearly-white set of teeth and eyes that seem alarmingly less sparkly than usual.

Renjun decides that he has to get a grip. He's been so blinded by love, or whatever it is right now that's surely developing into love, that he just let you step into his life, ruin one of his dearest friendships and keep eating the contents of his fridge when he's not home. All this, he tells himself on the way home, passing by a group of guys hanging out in the park together drinking. He sighs. Wasn't it always bros before hoes? Pals before gals? Homies before blow-me's? Does that still apply when the homie is in the wrong?

_____

"Darling?" Renjun whispers as he enters your (at this point) shared home. The lights are turned off, your figure nowhere to be found. Renjun sighs, slowly unties his shoe laces, takes his sneakers off and places them by the door carefully. He realizes most of his shoes are carelessly thrown all over the place, and so are yours. After the sixth pair he's carefully put into storage, he realizes what he's doing.

"You stupid gremlin, just ask her. Stop wasting time," Renjun tells himself, finally taking off his jacket and hanging it up.

"Ask me what?"

Renjun swears his soul leaves his body for a good 10 seconds before he can breathe again. Your silhouette stands in the doorway to his bedroom, the light of the lampposts outside shining on your backside, hugging your curves and making you look like an angel. Renjun curses his artistic eye in moments like these.

"You scared the crap out of me," he giggles, a little intimidated and, truthfully, freaked out at the way you just stand there, seemingly faceless because of the darkness.

"Aww, I'm sorry," you say, and approach him, hugging his cool figure into your arms. Hesitantly, Renjun hugs you back. Something inside him tells him that you're hiding something. "Where were you so long?"

Renjun breathes in slowly, then out through his nose. "Just walking around, needed to think." He's telling the truth.

"Are you okay?" You pull back, looking at his face gently illuminated by the moon. Very lightly, Renjun can make out the lines of worry on your face. He lets out a shaky breath.

"We need to talk."

Another layer of clothing lighter, Renjun sits down on the bed next to you, sweatpants and a white shirt replacing his earlier clothes that kept him from freezing in the cool weather of an early October. The expression on your face is unreadable, though you look not happy, but rather full of worry, sadness and a pinch of anger.

"Okay, this... this is not an easy thing to ask," Renjun finally starts, hating the tension that's so thick one could cut it with a knife.

"Please, um-" you stop him before anymore words can leave his mouth, glossed over eyes finding his gaze and the sight makes Renjun's heart ache. Never have you looked so raw, so fragile, so... broken? "Let me say something first, okay?"

Renjun nods, sucking his lower lip into his mouth to chew on it. His heart beats fast, the sight of you in front of him almost making him forget why he marched through the streets of this town for hours with no physical goal, but only to make sense of the mess clouding his brain.

"I don't know... what exactly you're going to ask me, but-" you halt and stare downwards into your lap where your shaky hands are nervously fumbling with each other. "Whatever it is, whether you want to break up with me, I just want you to know that-" you gulp, voice shaky, "that I've never felt loved in my life except for when I was with you. You really showed me what love is, Jun. You made me love you. So, um..." you breathe out shakily, two tears rolling down and falling towards your hands as they reach the apples of your cheeks. "Thank you for your time and efforts. You really are the best person I've ever met."

_____

"You are fucking weak!" Donghyuck scolds, a little less playfully than usual.

"You don't get it, Hyuck. You weren't there. The sight would even have broken your sad excuse of a heart," Renjun defends himself.

"Excuse me? Just because my heart has Milf-shaped holes in it doesn't mean I don't feel empathy!" Donghyuck throws in, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Renjun feels a little less confident in his decision of letting you be than a few minutes ago. "What did you ask instead?"

Renjun bites his tongue. Admittedly, a day later, the decision doesn't seem as logical as it did hidden under the secure blankets of a dark night. "I asked if she wanted to meet my parents?"

Donghyuck laughs out, once, and very loud, then turns his body to Renjun and places his hands on the older's thighs. "And let me guess." He raises his eyebrows in amusement. Renjun is not amused. "She was like: 'oh my God, Junnie! Why didn't you just say that?' And playfully slapped your arm, and you somehow ended up with your dick so deep in her you could feel hear stomach acid."

"Ew, what the fuck?" Renjun's eyes widen, eyebrows furrowing, his mouth agape in horror. "Y-you know that's not how the female body works, right?"

"How would I know?" Donghyuck retorts, shrugging.

Renjun groans in frustration, hiding his face in his hands. Donghyuck is right. He shouldn't have let you off the hook so easily. He has the right to know! He deserves to have all the answers to his questions. He is honestly one incident away from making an AITA post on Reddit.

"Hey, hey," Donghyuck gently removes Renjun's hands from his face, letting his hands linger on the older's wrists, "don't beat yourself up, Jun. It's not your fault. If the pussy is tight, the pussy is tight, and there is nothing we can do about it. She's in your head, while you should be in her head – literally."

Renjun rolls his eyes.

"No, for real, though." Donghyuck softly slaps the back of Renjun's birthmarked hand. "Women have a different kind of power over us mortals." He looks deeply into Renjun's eyes. "You really like her, don't you?"

Renjun nods. "I might even use the other L-word."

"Okay, here's the thing," Donghyuck announces, now taking both of Renjun's hands in his, cheesily interlocking their fingers which Renjun chooses to ignore, "meeting your parents is great. I mean, inevitably, they're gonna ask her about her job, won't they?"

A spark of hopeful light appears in Renjun's eyes. "You're right. Thank you, Hyuck."

"Kiss me, then," Donghyuck says and winks. Renjun forcefully pulls his hands from Donghyuck's grip. "In your dreams."

"You don't wanna know what happens in my dreams, my dear Renjun," Donghyuck smirks and Renjun decides that this conversation has to end here.

"How are things with Jaemin?" He therefore asks, leaning back in his chair to create a bigger distance between him and the lecher.

"He's in and out, mostly when he knows I'm not around. I think I'm going to trap him later today when he comes home, and make him tell me what the fuck his problem is," Donghyuck explains matter-of-factly. Renjun admires Donghyuck for his confrontation abilities. Of course, Donghyuck is not as in the middle of all this as Renjun, but he himself would've dreaded running into Jaemin randomly in the hallway, would probably put a tracking device on Jaemin so he can properly avoid him, and – Heaven forbid – would not try to corner him and make him spill. Renjun really hates confrontation, he always has when it comes to people he's close with, that he likes, or rather: that he's afraid of losing, and this is probably one of the reasons why he finds it abnormally hard to tickle the kind of information out of you that he needs to sleep peacefully at night.

Either way, Donghyuck will get Jaemin, and his parents will get you, and Renjun gets all the information he needs without having to put in even an ounce of effort. Slowly, Renjun realizes that this is not that great of a foundation for a good relationship, platonically or romantically. Yeah, admittedly, he feels a bit like a wimp.

_____

Renjun's heart beats up his throat for no apparent reason, except for the fact that he's currently standing in front of his parents' house, having just pressed his finger into the button for the doorbell seconds prior. On his other hand: you, dressed up nicely as if you're trying to impress his parents, inevitably leading to a new hatch of butterflies dancing around in Renjun's stomach. He also quite enjoys the way your palm is a bit sweaty as you cling to his hand, proving that you're nervous, which means that you care. Renjun really likes imagining that you care.

"Son!" Renjun's father opens the door and pulls him into a strong, manly hug, his dad's large palm coming down on his back to knock the air out of him. Seconds later, the hug is over, and Renjun's father examines you.

You smile sweetly, holding his hand out for him to shake. Renjun's dad raises his eyebrows, grins, then shakes your hand aggressively. "Son, I gotta say-"

"Please refrain," Renjun pleads, and pulls you into the house. You both take your shoes off and enter the living room containing Renjun's mom who quickly fluffs out the pillows, then turns to you.

"It's great to meet you," she says, shakes your hand and throws Renjun a wink. Renjun cringes. He really loves his parents – well, his mom first and foremost, but yeah – but they have a disgruntling tendency to embarrass him. His mother, the social butterfly she is, immediately picks up a conversation with you and, to Renjun's upmost joy, you seem thrilled about it, your eyes sparkling as you talk to his mother. It's good, don't get him wrong, but beyond the surface, it's bad. There is a reason Renjun brought you here, well, not that it's the sole reason, but Renjun still needs to find out what it is that you do for a living, and when he gets blinded by this mind-numbing feeling of being absolutely in love with the way you get along with his mother, the dearest woman in his life, he will forget about it.

Hence, he excuses himself to see his father in the kitchen, preparing the food. Not that any of you or his mother would even notice his absence as Renjun's mom is already on her way to the shelf in the corner to pull out photo albums containing Renjun's best and worst memories growing up. But even as he stands in the kitchen, his gaze darts over through the open door to investigate your figure hunched over the printed stages of Renjun's puberty, giggling wholeheartedly over his mother's remarks about all of his friends in the past. His mother has always been good with names and faces.

Even later at the dinner table, Renjun is not able to concentrate one his father's cooking, or the light conversation taking place over the amount of food on the table that could feed an entire baseball team for three weeks. There is only one single thing on Renjun's mind: what is it that you are hiding?

Thankfully – might it be the telekinetic bond he has with his mother or just simple human interest – Renjun's mom, after a minute of silent munching, pipes up and throws the question into the room.

"Our Renjun worked hard to be a freelancer," she chuckles and briefly touches Renjun's forearm resting beside his plate, causing Renjun's ears to pipe up and his eyes to widen. "What is it that you do for a living?"

Renjun feels as if time stops, presumably because it does take you a little while to answer. You visibly gulp at the question, eyes avoiding every person at the table. "Well," you begin, then look up at everyone. You blink a few times and wet your lips before continuing. "I recently lost my job and am looking for something else at the moment." Your gaze catches Renjun's who can't hide his surprise. "Which is why I am extremely grateful for Renjun being there for me right now."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Renjun's mom comforts, a sad look on her face.

"It's okay. I mean- the firm had to ax jobs because of insolvency, so there wasn't really anything I could do about it." You nod to yourself. The following awkwardness lies heavily in the air, and before Renjun's father can even think about bringing alcohol to the table, his mother pipes up once again.

"Don't worry about it, dear. You are still young, there will be lots of job opportunities in the future, I'm sure of it," she smiles encouragingly and you manage to send a slight smile back. "Which reminds me!"

This time, Renjun's mom playfully pinches her husband's shoulder who dramatically mewls at the action. "We were just your age when we met!"

"Oh, really?" You smile widely, interested in the story Renjun's mom tells next, going into almost every detail regarding their first encounter. Renjun, having listened to this exact story countless times, relaxes in his seat. He feels a bit bad that he basically forced you to reveal this probably embarrassing detail about yourself in front of his parents the first time you meet them, but a much bigger part of him is just relieved since, basically, this explains it all. Maybe he should feel a bit used, a bit hurt that you didn't trust him enough to share this detail of your life with him, but on the other hand: he is just glad you're not secretly a serial killer or do porn. Not that there's anything wrong with that, he'd just like to know.

In the midst of his mom's speech, he catches your eyes and sends you a gentle smile which you reciprocate. His hand gently squeezes your thigh under the table, and he is pleasantly surprised as your hand finds his, casually interlocking your fingers with his and putting them on display on the table top.

"Well, good thing you met him before the year ended," Renjun's mother finishes. Renjun's eyes almost pop out of their sockets. Why would she bring that up?

"Why? What's happening at the end of the year?" You ask curiously.

"Christmas!" Renjun says, a bit too loud maybe, since all eyes are on him all of a sudden. "You know, cuffin' season. Heh..."

The day ends pleasantly. Renjun has to fight both of his parents off as they try to make you stay over night or "at least for another shot". Oh no, he has to get you home and, to be completely honest, right into his bed, or preferably the closest surface to the front door that you're willing to take him on. Not even the little remark his mother had whispered to him as he was waiting by the door for you to finish up in the bathroom can make him want you any less right now: "I'm so sure I know her from somewhere."

_____

Days pass and Renjun is on cloud nine. Things are going absolutely great with you, you do fun stuff together, and Renjun can have his little daddy moments every once in a while when you ask him to help you with your job search. He feels giddy all over when he goes to bed, and possibly even giddier when he wakes up to you soundly snoring in his arms. Life is perfect.

But Renjun wouldn't be Renjun if he didn't worry about something, and this time it is the last obstacle to overcome for this to be the absolute perfect relationship: you have to vibe with his friends. Well, first of all, he himself has to start vibing with all of his friends again. He has not seen or heard of Jaemin since he met him that day, and Donghyuck had either forgotten to corner the younger male, or forgotten to tell Renjun about it (classic Donghyuck).

Hence, Renjun calls Donghyuck (so he can't forget to respond to his messages) and makes a plan to meet. Said meeting actually occurs on the same day since Donghyuck feared Jaemin would flee the country if they didn't hurry.

About an hour later – and don't ask him how he convinced you to do this (he might have been using the short post-orgasm timeframe to suggest it when your mind was still cloudy and you were grinning like you were out of your mind) – you appear in front of Donghyuck and Jaemin's apartment.

Before Renjun can even reach out to ring the doorbell, Donghyuck rips open the door, shushes the both of you and hurries you inside. Shoes off, you all meet at the stinky kitchen table and Renjun is reminded of his first encounter with you that he had spilled about at this very table. He finds it a funny little memory.

"Jaemin is in his room," Donghyuck whispers and Renjun can smell the garlic fried chicken he must have had earlier in his breath.

"You didn't tell him we were coming?" Renjun whisper-shouts back and purposely avoids looking at you because he already knows of the disapproving stare the back of his head is receiving right now.

"One: he just had a girl over, and even though I seem like the type to barge into a room that reeks of sex to witness Jaemin balls deep in a chick, I've seen enough of that. Two: if I had told him, he would've possibly taken off no questions asked," Donghyuck reasons and Renjun has to, once again, question why Donghyuck always has to verbally visualize all the tmi details of his speech. Renjun turns to look at you, and you look unsure. Although you had voiced your concerns on the way here, and Renjun had to make you promise not to bail on him, he gets where you're coming from.

Taking you aside (turning around since Donghyuck is openly swiping on his tinder right now that Renjun knows he hasn't set an age limit to) he asks, "Are you okay with this?"

You take a deep breath before nodding. "I want to do this for you, Jun."

Renjun has to ask himself when he started to connect the feeling of love with the desire for sex because why is the first though that comes to mind to bend you over the sticky counter and have his balls slap against your thighs? On that note, he also should stop hanging out with Donghyuck so much if this is how his mind describes sex...

Instead, he presses a kiss to your lips, and apparently Donghyuck's forgotten about his rule of being quiet because he 'ooohh's and laughs dirtily. Renjun simply pays him no mind, unlike you who raises a questioning eyebrow.

"I say I go in first, prepare him for what's to come, and then get him out here so we can all talk," Renjun suggests and everyone nods in agreement. "And Donghyuck-"

"Hm?"

"Leave my girlfriend alone while I'm gone." Renjun squints at Donghyuck.

"I'll try my best." Donghyuck winks at him before brushing his tongue over his front teeth and then biting the air in your direction. Renjun cringes.

"I can defend myself, don't you worry," you confirm with a smile and Renjun wants to kiss the floor you're walking on. Well, maybe not this floor since he is sure that ketchup stain by the fridge has been there since they moved in and got McDonald's on the first night.

"Oh, you know martial arts?" Donghyuck questions with raised eyebrows and great interest.

"No, but I can aim for your balls!" You explain, nodding excitedly.

"Be careful, he might enjoy that," Renjun comments before leaving towards Jaemin's room. He can hear Donghyuck silently arguing his statement in the background before promising you that he would not enjoy that, even though everyone present knows that's a lie. Renjun giggles one last time before turning the corner and stepping into the narrow hallway leading to Donghyuck's and Jaemin's bedrooms while wishing they would open a window every once in a while.

The few steps to Jaemin's door seem endless, especially as Renjun walks past Donghyuck's room that he had forgotten to close the door to, greeting Renjun with the pleasant sight of a fleshlight. Renjun whines quietly, but realizes nonetheless that he is happy to be Donghyuck's friend. He might be disgusting, but it's actually kind of funny.

So, without proper preparation of what to say, Renjun arrives at Jaemin's door. His hand hesitates in front of the "alpha male", "gym bro" and "Fortnite" stickers on Jaemin's door before he actually manages to knock.

The second Jaemin takes to offer him to enter stretches like gum.

"Did you forget something, bunny?" Jaemin asks as soon as the door opens. Renjun is greeted with the sight of Jaemin's massive back facing him as he sits at his desk, an online poker game decorating the large screen in front of him.

Given the nickname, Renjun doubts that Jaemin has any clue that it's him in his room right now. He tries to think of a cocky answer, but he has never been the spontaneous type, so all that comes out is "call me bunny one more time and i might kiss you" and Renjun has no idea where that came from. Still, it does the job of making Jaemin spin around in his chair, eyes wide in shock as he sees Renjun (and not bunny) stand in the doorway.

It's been a while since Renjun's seen Jaemin, and that might be one of the reasons why he finds himself staring at the younger's chest muscles for a bit too long for it to be a coincidence.

Once he's managed to peel his eyes off of Jaemin's nude upper body (he is glad he's wearing boxer shorts, at least) he aims to say something again since Jaemin's sure taking a long time to respond.

"Good day, sir," Renjun says and frowns at how awkward he is. Finally, a chuckle escapes Jaemin. Renjun also isn't sure why he's being so nice to Jaemin. Last time he checked, he was furious and wanted Jaemin to suffer a pussy-less summer. Maybe it's because everything else is perfect right now, and he doesn't have it in him to feel angry anymore.

"Hello, Jun," Jaemin finally says before getting up and wrapping his meaty arms around Renjun who experiences a weird mixture of relief, a spark of arousal, and the feeling of being crushed to death, so he just gently pads Jaemin's body in return. When Jaemin finally lets go of him, holding him by his shoulders and gently shaking him, Renjun reminds himself of all the disgusting things in this room alone so he can stop finding his best friend hot (namely: the dead cactus by the dirty window, the trash can that's spilling over with used tissues and condom wrappers, the countless empty bottles scattered around the place, most of which still containing an unnaturally colored fluid and some of which sporting little white clumps, the pin-up-girl-posters, the old gym socks all over the floor that he can smell from here, and the thick layer of dust on- basically everything Jaemin doesn't touch every day). It helps.

Jaemin steps back, opens a window and lights a cigarette.

"So, uh," Renjun starts, "don't freak out."

Jaemin nods and smiles.

"But I'm here with," Renjun halts to force down a smile and fail, "with my girlfriend. And don't feel pressured right now! It's all good. But we.. we came to talk things out."

Jaemin is not smiling anymore, but nods nonetheless. Renjun feels a bit bad, a bit selfish, even.

"Would you, uh-" Renjun scratches the back of his head before stepping towards the window as well because the distance is making him feel a lot more awkward "Would you mind telling me what happened? Back then?"

"She didn't tell you?" Jaemin questions, and Renjun is trying his best to decipher how Jaemin is feeling right now. Is he upset? Does he care?

"She did, but... I wanted to hear your side of the story. You're my best friend, after all," Renjun admits, eyes wandering around the room awkwardly before looking at Jaemin again. He is a bit glad his fingers find an old gum wrapper on the window sill to fiddle with. "I know it probably didn't feel like that for you in the past weeks. I'm sorry. It should've been bros before hoes but-"

"I know, you're a hopeless romantic, Jun," Jaemin reasons, "no need to apologize. I guess I just didn't like getting confronted with my ugly past."

"I get that," Renjun says and smiles slightly. Next thing he knows, Jaemin's pressing a kiss to his forehead. Renjun turns beet red within seconds. "Stop it, idiot, I have a girlfriend."

Jaemin laughs loudly. "What, am I your gay awakening?"

"You know very well who my gay awakening was." Renjun thinks back to his high school days, especially that one kid, tall, handsome, loud and a little stupid. Oh, meow, his first love.

Jaemin ruffles his hair. "So, my side of the story, huh?" He leans on his forearms and looks out the window, blowing the smoke into the cold air. Renjun, already shivering a little, wonders how Jaemin's not dying from the cold right now. "There is not much to it, really. I was a horny teenager, she was a pretty girl. It was not cool of me to just – y'know – hit and run. I have learned since then. Girls know what they get themselves into when they hop into my bed, I make it very clear."

"Very noble of you," Renjun says, and he hopes it doesn't sound sarcastic to Jaemin's ears. This might not be Renjun's preferred lifestyle, but to each their own, who is he to judge? "I'm just hoping this won't stand between us."

"Oh, don't worry. I won't fuck your girlfriend again," Jaemin promises, snapping the bud of the cigarette out the window.

"Not what I meant-" Renjun says, but is honestly a bit relieved to hear that. Well, he's pretty sure you wouldn't cheat on him, and he knows that Jaemin has about 200 other options just off the top of his head, but it still feels nice to be reassured. "So, are we good?"

"We are so good," Jaemin announces with a grin, pulling Renjun into another rib-cracking hug. This time, Renjun actually manages to hug him back. He loves Jaemin dearly (platonically), even though he's a real pig at times. Renjun daydreams a bit more about how much he loves his friends before Jaemin detaches himself from Renjun to announce that they should probably head out so he can apologize to the real victim of all of this. Renjun swears he's going to twist Jaemin's nipples until they fall off if he goes out there to meet you without putting a shirt on first. Jaemin laughs, slaps Renjun's back so hard the air gets knocked out of his lungs, then complies and slips into the next best sweater.

Renjun sighs as he realizes the writings on it. Better than nothing, he guesses.

He isn't really surprised as they enter the kitchen to find Donghyuck flexing his very little gain of biceps in front of you and you booing at him with your thumb pointing downwards. Once you notice Jaemin, Renjun notices how you tense up a bit, and he immediately comes rushing to your side to feel you slightly relax with his arm around your shoulder.

"Long time no see-" Donghyuck squints at the lettering on Jaemin's sweater, "orgasm donor."

"Might have not seen you, but I definitely smelled those stinkers you leave in the bathroom for me to find," Jaemin responds. Renjun is a bit surprised to find that this whole situation must have affected Jaemin enough to not even interact with his platonic soulmate in the slightest.

"You make it sound like I don't flush," Donghyuck mumbles, but it goes unnoticed since Jaemin has now turned to you.

"I want to apologize, which I should've done way sooner," Jaemin starts, and the tension in the air is scaring Renjun a bit. "I was young and a total dick, but that's no excuse. I'm sorry."

No one says anything, not even Donghyuck, who has an opinion or at least a thought on everything. It is quiet for a good while, and Renjun fears that you are not ready to forgive Jaemin, which, in all honesty, is fair, given you've lived with the trauma he gave you for years now. Renjun has tried fairly often since he found out what you went through, but he can't imagine how he would've reacted (and lived on) if his first love (who took his v-card) just left without saying anything. (He had to move to fulfill his dream of becoming an idol a year later, sadly, but they're still in touch, on and off. This also makes his encounter with you on the living room floor the other night a bit ironic, but that is besides the point right now.)

Finally, you breathe in. The anxiety in Jaemin's eyes tightens. Everyone is holding their breath.

"I forgive you." You reach out and shake Jaemin's hand. Hell breaks loose in Renjun's chest because, wow, what did he do in his past life to deserve such luck. He is so happy, he smooches your cheek. You giggle, Jaemin smiles and Donghyuck hollers in the background. This little party goes on for a moment before the atmosphere relaxes again. Donghyuck pipes up again to fill the silent moment with an unnecessary comment, "is it just me or does this situation call for a gang bang?"

"Donghyuck, I swear to God, I am going to stuff you head first into Jaemin's nut-napkin-trash can and send a picture of it to your mom," Renjun hisses, but Donghyuck seems unfazed.

"Nothing she hasn't seen before." He shrugs. Renjun decides not to question it.

_____

Renjun's life is so wonderful, he wishes someone would write a story about it. With him by your side, you actually managed to get a job which occupies you half of every other day. Although, you still live with Renjun, which he doesn't mind at all. He loves having you come home to a freshly cooked dinner, to then snuggle on the couch until you either fall asleep or start diddling.

Renjun likes when it's the second option, just like tonight, where he's seated on the floor in front of the couch with your legs draped over his shoulders as he eats you out slowly and softly. Your gentle gasps are music to his ears, the prime time movie playing in the background long forgotten and tuned out as his attention is fully on you.

The slight tugs on his hair make his stomach churn with desire, hands and mouth suddenly too eager to keep his teasing manner up as he moves up to kiss you instead. You giggle into the kiss at his fiery passion, suggesting to take things to the bedroom instead.

Renjun does not need to be told twice as he pulls you against him, making you chuckle even more, and moves you to the bedroom.

Your back hits the mattress with a soft thud as you smile excitedly at Renjun who comes climbing over your body to be at eye level with you again. His hands find your hips, caressing their way upwards while pushing the silky fabric of your shirt up in the process, allowing your braless chest to meet his hungry eyes. The rest of your clothing follows suit, Renjun feeling the flame of lust relight once again as his bare skin touches yours.

"Can we try something tonight?" You suddenly whisper, gaze trained on Renjun's face waiting impatiently for his answer. With his mouth slightly agape, he nods. His eyes jump to where your hand is suddenly touching his, following as you move it upwards to your neck, gently wrapping his smooth fingers around it and applying pressure.

Renjun gulps in awe.

"Press here when you push in," you say, eyelids fluttering as you mimic the action with your fingers against his. Renjun nods carefully, pupils blown probably as wide as yours with lust and desire, heart pounding in his chest as if it was the first time all over again. He will always feel like this around you.

Finding your entrance, Renjun coats his tip with your essence, teasing your awaiting body for another moment or so until his tip catches at your hole. He remembers your words, the grip of his fingers tightening around your throat as he slowly pushes forward, length sinking in slowly.

He's not even all the way in and he can already feel you clench around him, walls hugging him as if they're afraid of letting him go, hole almost fluttering at the feeling of being choked. All that paired with how heavenly you look wrapped up in ecstasy, pretty moans flowing freely only impacted by the way Renjun restricts the flow of air into your lungs and of blood into your brain.

Renjun loves you. He is so deeply in love with you he feels like he could laugh and cry simultaneously, stomach tickling with the all too familiar butterflies every time you look at him. He can't ever get enough of you, he needs you close to him. Never is he going to let you go. He will fight for you, whatever that might mean.

"I'm so in love with you," Renjun can't hold back saying, gently gaze caressing you lovingly. The slow pace he sets makes both of you see stars, length dragging along your walls perfectly to bring you to your shared high.

And it's probably this what makes it sting 100 times more the next morning. You were up early to go to work, kissing Renjun's forehead goodbye as he was still idling sleepily in bed. His mind is still groggy when he peels himself off the sheets and picks up his phone for the first time that day, weak hands struggling to remove the charger. Although, all sleepiness is wiped from his body the second he looks at the screen.

The pretty lock screen picture he has showing you during golden hour is hidden behind a bunch of messages that came in over night. But Renjun is not interested in the four messages he had gotten from Donghyuck ("TW: dickpic", a photo, "can i send it like this or does the slit look off to you??" and "or is it just me?????") or the Instagram reel Jaemin sent to the group chat with the message "me when i was in renjun's gf ha haaa" and Donghyuck responding with "clean".

What makes Renjun's heart drop, beat 20 times its usual speed and then drop again is the following E-Mail notification:

Dear Renjun Huang,

we feel the need to inform you that during our yearly check-ups, we noticed that there has been an incident with your account. Unfortunately, it seems like there has been a mistake made on the company's side regarding your profile.

It seems that someone has hacked into our system, gotten to your private information and pretended to be your Soulmatch™.

We dearly apologize for this mistake. To protect your safety, we have now deleted your account and all private information regarding your person. Please get in touch with us if you want to press charges against the intruder.

Of course, we will pay back the amount you have spent on our Premium Love Package immediately.

Again, our deepest apologies.

Sincerely,

The Soulmatch™ Team

Renjun is not sure how to react to this. Immediately, he checks the app, but he is logged out already. He tries to log in, but his profile is nowhere to be found.

Putting his phone down, he falls onto his back. His mind is racing with thoughts, but they do not seem to make any sense. Someone pretended to be his soulmate? He has never gotten any matches except-

Except you.

Was this... all a hoax? Were you not his soulmate? Have you been lying to him all this time? Why? What does this even mean? How did you do it? And most importantly, what is he going to do now?

Before he knows it, tears start pooling in his eyes, and soon after they drip hotly down his cheeks.

You lied to him.

Have you just used him all this time? Is everything a lie? Do you even love him back? Where did the lies begin? Does he even know who you are? Is this why you've been so secretive about every single detail of your life? Because everything is just made up?

And he just let you. He put up with all of it because he is a pathetic romantic who believes in soulmates. Because he is so desperate to find love. You lied to him with every fibre of your being. And he kissed you. He made love to you. He held you and comforted you. Hell, he even let down his best friend because of you. How could he have been so stupid?

Renjun simply has no words. And he doesn't think he has anything to say to you ever again. He just wants to know why, and how, but he doesn't want to ask you because you're going to lie your way out of it anyway, no?

Shaky legs allow him to get up and walk over into the living room where all your stuff is scattered around.

He is so stupid. He let you live with him. He trusted you without question.

And you used him.

He never wants to see you or any of your stuff ever again, he decides as he kicks against your backpack leaned against the couch, wincing in pain immediately as the contents of the backpack appear to be much more solid than he presumed. His hands grab ahold of his injured foot, causing him to pathetically jump around on one leg until he gives up and falls onto the couch. Wow, he can't even have his dramatic meltdown without being an embarrassing idiot.

The next few hours he spends mostly crying or angrily pacing around. He's thrown all your stuff into a corner and covered it with a blanket so he doesn't need to get reminded of how he's just a pathetic loser every few minutes, although it doesn't help.

He is not sure whether to be upset about the fact that you can't use your phone at work or not, he only knows that by the time 2pm comes around (the time you get off work) he starts to panic.

He is not going to face you. Not now, not like this, preferably not ever. He debates if he should call you, but knowing how easily influenced he is, he'd probably let you lull him in again. No way is he going to face you, nor your voice, nor your texts. All that's left to notify you that Renjun wants you out of his life immediately is a handwritten note to leave while he goes and takes a walk, and hopefully by the time he comes back, you and all your stuff are gone.

Unfortunately, before he can even get a pen and a piece of paper, he hears the keys jiggling as the door is being unlocked. Renjun briefly debates whether jumping out the window would hurt less than this encounter.

"Honey I'm h-" your face comes into view, and Renjun feels his heart beat up his throat. He feels so uncomfortable, so bad, so stupid, so pathetic. "What's wrong?"

Okay, great. It seems to be written all over his face how his morning went.

"Don't you have anything to say to me?" Is all he gets out, cringing at how shaky his voice is, how weak and cracked it sounds after he's dramatically sobbed for a good half of his morning.

"What do you mean?" Your brows contort, and Renjun is glad that he for once does not feel any sexual attraction to you while you're fighting. This was too much.

"Maybe how you lied to me about every single aspect of your life?"

"Huh??"

Renjun wipes his face with one hand. "Didn't know you could hack."

The utter confusion on your face turns into an expression of shock, fear even. "Oh God, oh God."

"That's right, now you remember," Renjun says passive aggressively.

"I think I'm gonna throw up," you say, not meeting Renjun's eyes as you hold your stomach.

"Listen. I'm not going to scream at you. I just want you out. Out of here and out of my life," Renjun says and is surprised at how calm he appears.

"No, no, no, please. I can explain-"

"You can explain all you want, how can I ever believe something you say ever again after all you did was lie? Do you even love me?" Renjun raises his voice against his own better judgement, tears appearing in his eyes once again, but he doesn't let them spill out. He can't give you that kind of satisfaction.

By now, you're kneeling on the floor. The one and a half meters separating you from him feel endless, you're crying restlessly and Renjun doesn't even feel a pinch of empathy for you.

"I do! I love you, please, Renjun, please, you're all I have," you beg.

At this, Renjun feels his heart shatter a little more. Maybe he does have a bit of empathy for you. At the same time, a new wave of anger arises.

"I trusted you. I gave you everything. And you just- you lied. All you did was lie!"

"That's not true! I-" you suddenly crawl over to him and Renjun takes a step back. "I promise. I love you. Maybe the beginning was- fucked up, but everything after that was sincere! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please!"

At this point, the gates of pride can no longer contain Renjun's tears and he breaks down as well, his knees hit the floor in front of you and he begins sobbing. "How could you do this to me?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," is all you reply, hands reaching out to touch him, and he flinches back, but somehow still lets it happen, lets your arms wrap around him and burry your face in the crook of his neck as you pathetically whimper into the fabric of his shirt.

Renjun follows suit. Of course, he hates you right now, but a very big part of him is in love with you – or rather with the version of you that you made up (???). Not listening to the part of his consciousness screaming at him to stop, he wraps his arms around you as well, crying wholeheartedly against your shaking body.

He has no idea how long you sit there, his legs have gone numb at this point, everything hurts, and then you finally speak up.

"I can explain. It's not good, it's not nice, it's no excuse, but I at least want you to know the truth and not whatever truth you've made up in your head."

Renjun nods. He shouldn't, but he wants you to tell him what really happened.

He also hates that you know him so well.

You somehow find yourselves on the living room floor a few minutes later. Renjun's brought two bottles of water to hydrate after that crying fest out there.

"So, the app," you start, not meeting Renjun's eyes in the slightest. "I used to- work for them."

You take some time to let that sink in. Renjun decides he does not want to respond until the end.

"There was a huge data leakage, and I thought I had it under control, but turns out I didn't, which is why I had to meet you to get you to delete your profile- it's complicated. Or maybe I just made it complicated. But that is why.. you got that weird match. Usually, you can visit that person's profile, but obviously I couldn't have you see it was me because of- our previous encounter, which by the way wasn't planned! It was really just a coincidence!"

Renjun is unsure how this is making him feel.

"Anyway, so I came over. You went to the bathroom and I deleted the app of your phone. Silly me apparently forgot that i had to delete the profile, which is why I came back. I didn't plan for us to hook up again- or whatever. I just needed enough time to delete your profile, which I fucked up. This is already bad enough, but it gets worse."

Renjun does not like where this is going.

"Obviously, I got fired. And you know my situation by now, this was literally all I had. With what I had saved, it lasted me about half a year until I had no money left, I had no idea what to do. I applied for jobs everywhere, but no one was willing to hire me after finding out why I got fired last time. This is where it gets really fucked up. I'm sorry."

Your nervous fiddling makes Renjun believe you, even though he is not sure if he should.

"I- thought that... oh, God, this is so bad."

"Just say it," Renjun says and is not really surprised by how dead inside he sounds.

"Well, I thought that maybe if I like had sex with you again, you'd let me stay with you? I really don't know what the plan was, but... literally you're the only person I knew and... I don't know, I just thought- I guess I didn't think. But then you said you didn't want to have sex anymore, but wanted me to stay anyway- so I... used you... I mean, I still... liked you? Obviously, or else I wouldn't've slept with you.. twice! I mean- God, I'm such a horrible person.."

Renjun doesn't have to say anything to that.

"Well, and then things went so great – except for the Jaemin thing – and for the first time ever, I felt loved? Because I was? Literally, half the time I wished I would've stayed the time we first hooked up so we could have a normal relationship that isn't based on me trying to save my ass and using you... But everything was so beautiful. You made me feel safe, and I pretty much forgot about the app. I really just enjoyed being with you. I enjoyed falling in love with you. Even meeting your parents and friends, how you sorted out the Jaemin thing for me..."

Renjun believes you are genuine.

"That's it... I think.. I just- I'm sorry... I shouldn't have lied to you.. I should've just been honest from the beginning and said I made a mistake or whatever but- I don't know, I didn't. I guess I was scared? I don't know.. But please, I need you to believe me when I say everything after that was real. I love you. I like you, everything about you, and not only because you're kind and offered me a home... basically, no. I like you for you. I love you. Even if you-" you choke up briefly "decide that you don't want to be with me anymore, I just need you to believe me when I say... that I truly love you. I never lied about that, ever. Not once. And I wouldn't in a million years."

"Is that all?" Renjun asks after a minute. You, looking at him for the first time, nod. Before his heart can start beating again, before the butterflies can come back, he needs to remind himself that you used him. You used him and you lied.

"I mean, this is a lot," Renjun starts. You suddenly seem to be unable to look at him anymore. "I feel- actually I don't really know how I feel, but thank you for.. being honest, I hope?"

"I promise."

"I'm going to be honest, I feel... betrayed?"

"Rightfully so."

"I need some time to think about it... Is it.. okay.." Renjun rethinks his decision of asking you beforehand, "I'm going to need to take a walk.. clear my head, make up my mind. I'm not going to ask you to stay, but I'm also not asking you to leave. Do what you will..."

"I understand," you nod, and Renjun gets up. "Wait-"

Renjun halts and turns around to look at you getting up from your place on the carpet. "This might be.. wrong? Toxic? But... can I... if this is the last time I can... if you decide to.. not be with me... can I kiss you one last time?"

Renjun feels his throat close up at your words. Either you're a really, really good liar or you're being honest about your feelings. His breath hitches, his heart performs summersaults in his chest, and his voice trembles, "you can."

Carefully you lean in, slowly pressing your lips against his. There is not much going on, your hands gently hover on his shoulders, barely touching him at all, and your lips just stay still against his. Still, Renjun feels like a thousand silent words and a million hidden emotions clear up as his eyes close to feel you against him. His breath is shaky, he feels himself getting hot as more tears well up behind his closed lids. He really doesn't want to let you go.

As you part from him, his lips chase you for a split second before he realizes what he's doing. "I should get going."

"Be safe." You nod again and Renjun hears the threatening tears in your voice. God, how badly he wants to believe you.

'I love you, I love you!', his heart screams at him to scream at you, but he doesn't. Instead, he steps out of the room, grabs his keys, slips into his shoes and jacket, and heads out without looking back.

The cold air hits his face. Yet, unlike in the movies, he still doesn't feel any clearer. He still feels used and betrayed, he still feels like shit, but he knows he loves you. But is that enough of a reason to forgive you?

He tries to be logical, debate his options, but he can't focus. All that swirls around his brain is how your lips felt on his, and he wonders if kissing you was a mistake. This stupid, romantic mind of his...

Inevitably, after walking around the neighborhood for a good hour, thinking of nothing and everything, he decides that maybe he still isn't in the right mind to make a decision on his own. But who is he going to ask? Fucknut #1 and Serial-Fucker #2? Definitely not.

Therefore, he is glad his mother answers the phone after the second ring. Immediately, she knows something is up, and Renjun repeats the things you have told him (with less sexual details, as to be expected) to his mother who listens patiently.

Except for a "that's where I know her from!" and a short explanation how she saw a picture of you amongst your colleagues when she read that article about the love app, she just listens. Maybe he should've asked her about it back then, about the article. Maybe none of this would have happened. But then, he wouldn't have you in his life.

When he is done and asks for advice, she appears calm.

"Oh, Junnie. Love can be a funny thing. See, when I met your father, it wasn't easy either. Both of our families were against us, our lives were so different from each other, and still, there was so much connecting us that it had to be fate. I know it's hard to trust after something like this, I can only imagine what you're feeling right now, but you're a smart kid, you'll know what's right."

"But what would you do? What do you think?" Renjun asks.

His mother sighs and chuckles slightly. "Maybe I'm just a hopeless romantic like you are, but... people make mistakes, Junnie. The universe brought you together so many times, I think it's fate. I don't know if you should forgive her, but I know I would."

"You would? You don't think I'm crazy? You don't think I'm letting her walk all over me?"

"Not that this should matter, but you haven't been completely honest with her either if I remember correctly?" His mom reminds him, and Renjun suddenly feels a bit lighter.

"The psychic," he mumbles.

"That's right. She told you you were going to be alone forever if you didn't meet someone by the end of this year, and that's the reason you signed up for that app in the first place. And a part of me believes that that's the reason why you even let her stay with you, why you were so willing to ignore all signs that something was up. Maybe you already knew?" His mother suggests and Renjun doesn't like it one bit how similar they are. Or maybe he does.

"How do you know me so well?" He whines, feeling a bit more confident about letting that kiss linger in his mind for so long.

"I raised you!" She chuckles and Renjun can feel himself smile. He thanks her again before ending the call before turning on his heels to head back home. God, he only hopes you're still there.

______

When Renjun unlocks the door to the apartment, his hands are shaking. It took him a good three attempts to finally get the key into the lock. Admittedly, he is nervous because, well, for obvious reasons, but he also isn't sure if you're still there. Your past of skidaddling when things get serious gives him every right to feel anxious as he listens for any signs of you still being around as he takes of his shoes.

He doesn't dare call out for you, instead he begins searching the place. He's not sure what's going to happen when he finds you since, well, it hasn't been nice of him to just leave you behind, but what was he going to do?!

His search is pointless, he realizes as he steps out of the last room, the bathroom, and you're not there. Honestly, he wasn't really confident that you'd still be there, but he had hope. What raises his eyebrow is that your stuff is still there, no longer cramped into the corner he threw them in a few hours ago, but neatly sorted and packed in case this was really the final day of your stay. But, point is: it's still there. Now why in the world would you head off and go your own way and leave all that behind.

It's then when the door is unlocked once again, your figure slipping in, red and puffy eyes meeting the puzzled Renjun standing in the hallway.

"Y-you're back," you deduct correctly, taking off your shoes and stepping inside.

"Sure am." Renjun isn't sure why he still sounds so pissed when he is here to forgive you. On a second thought, maybe he's too quick with it? Should he really listen to his mom and just- forgive you? Just like that? Oh, he already knows Donghyuck is going to put out a whole speech about how Renjun is "high on pussy" and "not thinking straight". But... he wants to. He wants to forgive you. He wanted to from the very first moment he saw that weird E-Mail. He just couldn't. And now he can... can he?

"I just went out to get your favorite snack from the little store down the street.. I thought it might... make you feel better," you finally reveal why you left the apartment and Renjun's heart jumps. "I dunno, I just- wanted to do something nice regardless of your decision." You nod to yourself.

Renjun just looks at you as you are unable to meet his eyes.

"They didn't have it, so I went to the other store, the one by the subway station, and they actually were out of stock, but I begged the guy to go check if they had some left somewhere," you inform him, shyly looking up at him, "my current state must've convinced him it was urgent." You smile weakly and motion to your face.

Renjun can't keep his strong demeanor up any longer. Two big steps (wow, he has to inform his doctor that his legs must've grown a few centimeters) and he's right in front of you, cupping your cheeks. "I love you," he simply says, your face so confused that you can only stutter a few syllables before Renjun crashes his lips to yours.

And, God, does it feel good. Honestly, he has so much more time to actually think about what you did, and what it means in the future, but he needs you here with him, right now, always and forever. Sure, it's going to take a bit for him to built his trust again, but for now, he doesn't actually care.

"I love you too," you manage to breathe out when Renjun parts from you.

"I realized a few things. And I may have been a bit dramatic? But, well, I also have a confession to make."

_____

Renjun pushed the admittedly tacky (and stereotypical? Renjun did get slight cultural appropriation vibes) curtain aside to slip into the dimly lit room, although once he entered, the aura of the room changed his mind completely. It's not that he had a sense for spirituality, but he has always been deeply interested in the matter, which made him glad his mother suggested to try it out once.

So this was it, Renjun's first Tarot card reading.

The lady had been super nice, Renjun could tell by one single glance she was competent and very able to perform this life changing reading for him.

"What question brings you here today?" She asked, shuffling her deck of cards which Renjun could not take his eyes off.

"Ask about your love life!" His mom urged beside him, giggling like the sunshine she is, and Renjun chuckled quickly before averting his eyes to look at the lady in front of them.

"Just- my future? If there is anything important I should know?" He decided since that would not exclude his mom's interests.

"Very well," the lady nodded and began shuffling the cards quicker, her hands rushing until one card fell out.

"Ah, The Fool," she explained, and Renjun frowned. His mother couldn't contain a chuckle. "Do not worry, dear. This is no description of your self. Instead The Fool can symbolize new beginnings. There is most likely change waiting for you."

Renjun felt his heart beat up his throat in a positive way, making him giddy to find out more. The lady shuffled her cards some more until two cards fell out at the same time.

"Here we have The Ace of Cups, upright, and The Lovers. There appears to be a new relationship waiting for you, a romantic one."

Renjun gently elbowed his mom next to him who seemed as erratic as he was right now.

"Oh dear, The High Priestess in reverse... this new relationship might be full of secrets, which can be good or bad, exciting or dangerous," The lady deducted, and Renjun gulped.

As she started shuffling again, three cards sprang out of the deck immediately, making even Renjun feel the urgency.

"Two of Wands, The Hermit, The Ace Of Pentacles," the lady read out, sounding worried.

"Why? What does it mean?" Renjun asked, worry also evident in his tone.

"Two of Wands might represent the urgency of this. You have to take action soon, or else – here comes The Hermit – you may find loneliness. The Ace of Pentacles shows us the time frame: one year. I get the strong feeling these cards are telling you to hurry finding that love, or you might be alone forever."

_____

"So basically that's why you've been this patient with me?"

"Basically," Renjun responds, feeling a bit bad about it, "I feel like I should've told you sooner?"

"Jun, don't worry. You're not the one who messed up here. If anything, this makes me feel a tiny bit better about how manipulative I've been..." You admit, frowning.

"Well, I'm not the only one calling the shots here," Renjun summarizes, "so I'm asking you: Do you still want to be my girlfriend?"

"Are you joking? I feel like you are," you say, a wide grin spreading over your face.

"Nope, I'm super serious," Renjun chuckles and pokes your shoulder for reasons he is not aware of.

"Wow, and here I was contemplating to offer you anal to make up for it," you joke (?).

Renjun blinks at you, his smile falling into a crooked smirk at the proposal of your kind offering. "I mean... is the offer still on the table?"

"You are such a man," you pinch him, but do not reject the idea.

"What if we did it right now? Right here?" Renjun suddenly grabs your waist, pulling you closer to his body and starts kissing your neck. His tone (hopefully) brings across that he's joking, that you obviously won't do it right now, but not never either, if you're still up for it.

"You'd be the first," you chuckle before kissing Renjun's nose.

"Stop making me hard," he mumbles before attacking you with more kisses. "I know it's only been like a few hours, but I missed you so much. Let's not fight ever again, yeah?"

"I agree," you say and Renjun pulls back to look at you. Maybe this is silly, maybe he forgives too easily, but it just feels right. The look in your eyes is so genuine, as was the offer of doing butt stuff, that Renjun is just pretty much sure that this was this one big thing every relationship has and now it will only get better.

"Or is there anything else you need to tell me," Renjun teases.

"Not a thing, you now know everything there is to know about me, which, admittedly, isn't that much.. do you have a confession to make?"

Renjun thinks for a second. "Well, just this one thing. Remember when we went to Jaemin's to talk things out? He was practically naked when I went in there and I may have stared a bit until I remembered that he is disgusting."

"Oh, word. His chest is super-"

"Hey." Renjun furrows his brows half playfully joking, half dead serious. "I get to say that. You don't."

You mimic zipping your mouth shut, locking it and throwing the key away. Renjun laughs and takes your hand in his to hold. "So, all this talk about anal and Jaemin... why don't we take this to the bedroom?"

"You really won't let this go, huh?" You smirk. "I'd say: what comes around goes around. Whatever you do to my butt, I'll do to yours."

"I believe I have never loved you more than right now," Renjun sighs before kissing you once again, on the mouth this time, and he feels like time stands still and rushes past double it's normal speed. His hands wander over your body, taking everything in, feeling you against him because you are his, once again, finally. Your hands are as excited touching him, and it dawns on Renjun that you're probably not going to make it to the bedroom, which is fine since he owns this entire place anyway (it's a rental, but you get the point).

Both of your clothes are off in no time, leaving Renjun's hands to freely roam over your naked skin, and it feels just as exhilarating as if you'd never had that fight. That stupid, stupid fight, right now, Renjun can't even remember what it was about, but that could partly be because of the lack of blood in his brain. His heavy erection is currently pressed heavenly against your lower stomach as you make out wildly, and Renjun can't even think about the usual foreplay he finds so important as you start rubbing your wetness all over him. He just wants to be in you, be connected to you, feel all of you against and around him, have the both of you desperately grinding and panting against each other.

Although, he feels kind of more dominant today, maybe there is still a very slight aftertaste of your betrayal lingering and he feels the need to show you that he can be in control over you if he wants to, or maybe he just feels extra manly and prideful today after you did everything to prove to him that you want him in your life. He decides that being on top would be enough to satisfy that need, so he gently pushes you back and lays you down on your back.

His tip brushes over your clit and you whine, a sound that is music to Renjun's ears, and when you speak up and practically beg him to just "put it in", who is he to deny you that wish?

Aligning himself with your hole, he gently pushes forward, allowing his tip to disappear between your velvety walls, and he loves how your eyes roll back and you gasp at how good he feels.

"Only the tip and you're already drooling," he observes, biting his lower lip smugly before pulling back out and repeating the action of fucking just the tip into you several times before giving in to your quiet pleas and pushes all the way in.

You choke on your moan at this, eyes glazed over with lust finding Renjun's under eyebrows furrowed by pleasure. Renjun can already feel you pulsating around him and God does that stroke his ego.

Although he decides he could be having more of an effect on you right now, so he places your legs on his shoulders instead of around his waist, and practically folds you in half to open you up for him so he can fill you deeper, so deeply his tip grazes at your cervix. To intensify your pleasure, his fingers come up to rub at your wet clit, three fingers massaging the nub in quick circles, the wetness allowing him to glide over the surface perfectly.

And your body seems to agree. In no time – Renjun's sure he must've set a new record – you announce that you're ready, seconds away from reaching your high, and Renjun thinks twice about letting you taste it. Well, you did kind of fuck up, but fuck it. Renjun loves the look on your face when you cum just too much to deny you it, instead spurring you on by telling you just how good you are for him, what a perfect girl you are and how much he loves having you cum on his cock.

Seconds later, you orgasm, clamping walls choking his dick in the best way possible, the look on your face and the moans sounding from your throat so pretty that Renjun feels like he's fallen in love all over again. When you come down, he praises you and kisses you, never missing an opportunity to tell you just how perfect you are.

"More," you whisper to him, eyelids heavy as your blurred view tries to find Renjun's eyes, and he briefly chuckles before granting your wish.

"Greedy are we?" He sets a faster pace this time, balls slapping against your ass where your wetness had already dripped down and probably seeped into the couch. Renjun feels so good, so happy, so fulfilled, and he is once again reminded why it was the right decision to forgive you. He is such a man, he thinks, and is reminded of a few minutes ago when you said that to him.

"Can you turn around for me, baby?" He asks, suddenly in the mood to watch your ass as he repeatedly disappears into you, and you comply, allowing him to pull out before getting on your hands and knees. Renjun grins seeing your beautiful ass in front of him, he gently slaps it two times before gently pressing on your back to get you to lie down for him again, though this time on your stomach. He enters you again, filling you up perfectly once again, like you were made for each other, and he puts his entire weight on you to be able to still whisper in your ear.

His fingers find your hair, not to pull, just to be there so you feel it, and as he rams himself inside repeatedly, he mumbles the dirtiest things to you, about how well you're taking him, how beautiful you look underneath him and how much he just loves to fuck you. And yes, he even goes into detail (damnit Donghyuck) about how perfectly tight you are for him. A hand sneaks between your body and the couch, fingers quickly finding your clit again and you whine.

"'s so good," you say, voice trembling, "love you s'much."

"I love you too, baby," Renjun responds, grinning ear to ear like a maniac because he just loves this effect he has on you. This might just be a fantasy, but he's sure he's the only one who could ever make you feel this good. And admittedly, even right now when you're not doing much except take it, you make him feel just as good.

"Fuck, I think I'm gonna cum," he grunts, and you whine, cunt clenching around him at the mere prospect of him reaching his high.

"Me too, God," you manage to bring out.

"Where do you want it?" Renjun asks. Although he already knows your answer, he loves hearing you say it.

"I-inside, please," you mewl, arching your back a bit more to give him perfect access, "cu- cumming, cumming, cumming."

And just as you orgasm around him, walls wrapping around Renjun's cock impossibly tight, he follows suit, pressing his hips against your ass to fill you as deeply as possible. He pushes in a few more times to really get it all in there, have all his cum so deep inside you'll still feel it the next day.

"God, fuck, I love you so much," he pants, now a little exhausted as the adrenaline washes off. He pulls out, allowing you to turn around on your back and smile at him. God, he loves seeing you fucked out like this.

"I love you," you reply, then your nose scrunches and Renjun remembers that, when you shoot cum inside someone, it's going to inevitably drip back out, and he doesn't have to ruin his couch any more than he already did.

______

Renjun's arm is draped over your body, cuddling and talking in bed after the intense 4 rounds you just had, and maybe Renjun should've seen it coming, but honestly? How could he? So he jumps as he hears the doorbell ring.

"Who the fuck..." he mumbles as he gets up, puts on some underwear (at least) and stumbles to the door.

"Tell them to come back tomorrow, I'm not done with you," you giggle behind him as you slip into one of Renjun's shirts and a pair of panties you find laying on the floor. Renjun grins and throws you a wink before turning on the speaker.

"Hello?"

"Congratulations!"

"What the fuck are you asshats doing here?" Renjun groans and hides his face in his unoccupied hand. You have stepped over and are now pressing your ear against the speaker to be able to listen as well.

"We heard the news and came to celebrate?" Jaemin says.

"Actually, we didn't know how it went so we brought booze either for celebrating or for condolences. We took a wild guess," Donghyuck adds.

"How do you even-"

"Your mom told me."

"I don't think I appreciate you being involved with my mom..."

"Your words, not mine. Now open up."

"We're not exactly... dressed appropriately," Renjun informs and he can hear Jaemin howl and Donghyuck laugh.

"Let us in, we'll give you 2 minutes," Jaemin says.

"As if I'm going to believe you'd be passing an opportunity to barge in and see my girlfriend in her undies," Renjun says.

"Open up!" Donghyuck pushes.

"We just fucked four times!" You chime in, and Renjun isn't sure why you needed to clarify what didn't need to be clarified. Especially since, except for a few cheers that die down quickly, it's silent for a good 20 seconds until Donghyuck informs you that the old lady living two floors below just came home and most definitely heard that.

"Just let us in," Jaemin shouts right into the speaker and Renjun has to hold it away from his ear to not go deaf.

"Are you okay with this? I'm sure I could make them leave... somehow..."

"Sure! I could take two more," you joke and Renjun squints at you, making you teasingly roll your eyes. "Kidding."

"Okay, give us a few," Renjun says and just hangs up before they can complain. You both run into the bedroom and get changed into relatively acceptable clothing and Renjun has the decency to at least open a window to make the strong smell of sex lighten a bit before he checks in with you again, then opens the door.

Donghyuck and Jaemin's hollers can be heard echoing through the hallways until they finally show up at Renjun's door step.

"Nice work, man," Jaemin compliments as he sees the state of your still slightly tousled hair, and pats Renjun's back. They take off their shoes and let themselves in. While Jaemin stores the alcohol they brought in the fridge, Donghyuck skips into the living room to occupy Renjun's phone charger.

Oh, no. The living room.

Renjun darts after him, holding onto the door frame to not fall from the immense speed of his sprint, but it's too late. Donghyuck is already grinning at the used tissues scattered around the place and Renjun's underwear dangling from the uplight.

"You really are just high on pussy, it seems," Donghyuck teases, clearly hinting at how Renjun forgave you too (?) quickly. "You're not thinking straight. Or too straight..."

"You don't even know the whole story," Renjun defends himself while crossing his arms.

"Don't worry man, I'm not judging. I feel like this is the right thing for you," Donghyuck says and Renjun is surprised at his choice of words... such a... lack of disgusting-ness? Donghyuck even trots over and places a brotherly hand on Renjun's shoulder and gives him a smile.

"Thank you," Renjun says and means it. Donghyuck takes a few steps back, bows, then his eyes lock in on something on the floor.

"I think I'm taking these with me," Donghyuck announces before bending down further and holding up your panties with his forefinger.

"Don't you dare-" Renjun warns, but Donghyuck already started pushing the fabric into his pocket.

"Take it out," you say, suddenly appearing behind Renjun. Donghyuck seems taken aback, especially as you step over and grab his hair. "Give. Them. Back."

You pull hard, only once, and Donghyuck moans, but complies, and Renjun is party impressed and partly enraged.

"Starting without me?" Jaemin grins as he, too, has appeared in the room by now.

"Guys, I think we need some boundaries regarding my girlfriend," Renjun hisses through grit teeth. You agree, finally letting go of Donghyuck's hair who falls to his knees. Jaemin shrugs and sits down on the couch just as Renjun stuffs the used tissues into his pocket.

"What do you say?" You address Donghyuck who whines out a pathetic apology. You grin. "Sorry, this is kind of fun," you whisper to Renjun.

"I mean if you want to, you could talk like that to me every once in a while-" Renjun mumbles back, immediately feeling you cling to his side.

"Yeah?" You bite your lip.

"There was some talk about boundaries?" Jaemin recalls and you back off a bit. "When I can't have it, at least don't rub it in my face- unless you're going to literally rub it in my face-"

"I swear to God-"

624 notes · View notes

theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

Text

A FRESH START [20]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: description of injuries, language, spoilers for S3 The Mandalorian, mentions of death experiences, anxiety, PTSD references

Word Count: 5,066

Updates every Thursday

#20: SHORT STICK BEARS HIS WRATH

"you can't heal if you pretend you're not hurt." -aliza grace

Grogu had a habit of making friends wherever he went. So, it didn’t surprise Din to see that a bulk of Ari’s crew were gushing over his son and offering him different things to play with. After parking the N1 and walking to the address Ari messaged him, what looked like an old fighting gym, he entered to see a small group of people surrounding Grogu who stood on the table and babbled. They listened intently, cooed back to him, and offered him a variety of objects to either eat or play with.

Din’s eyes landed on Ari who was sitting in a desk chair, feet kicked up and ankles crossed, while frowning at the sight. When her gaze drifted toward him she blew out an annoyed breath of air. “Finally. Can you please take your son and go? It seems while he’s around my crew is,” Ari turned to yell out the next words at the people surrounding Grogu, “Incapable of doing their kriffing jobs!”

“The stressors of running a criminal empire.” Din snorted.

“Aw, you think my little show is an empire?” Ari grinned impishly. “That’s cute. I appreciate it, but I don’t think I’ve reached that level of notoriety yet.”

“Yeah, well, I have faith in you.”

Din knew her main skill set was in smuggling. He assumed that’s what she was still doing, just branching out and roping others in. Still, Din wasn’t too worried about breaking up her party or shining a spotlight down on her. Of all the evil Din had seen in the galaxy, Ari was harmless. Well, mostly harmless.

“Hey boss, can we keep it?” A large man turned and pointed to Grogu who had his hands up in the air as he babbled about a story.

“Him, you idiot.” Ari corrected. “It’s Mando’s son.”

“Oh, sorry.” The man replied. “Can we keep him?”

“See what I mean? Useless.” Ari scoffed. Din called out for Grogu who took the time to gather up all the snacks being offered to him then jumped into his pram to drift over. Ari crossed her arms and snapped for the others to get back to their jobs. They gradually drifted away. She looked at him. “So? How’s the doc?”

Din tilted his head. “Left him thirty minutes outside the city to crawl back.”

“That all?”

“I may have…” Din chose his words carefully. “Stacked the odds against him.” Ari chuckled in amusement and he nodded. “I need you to keep an eye on that for me.”

“How so?”

“Make sure there’s a corpse, and if there isn’t,” Din shrugged nonchalantly, “Make one.”

The request rolled off his tongue as if he were in Nevarro going to his neighbor’s house to ask for some sugar. Din saw no issue in his request. If he wasn’t on such a time crunch in his eagerness to return to you then he’d stick around and double check for himself.

Ari nodded. “Alright. I’m counting that as two favors now though. So, you owe me.” Din dragged his helmeted gaze to look at her and raised an eyebrow in skepticism as if she’d be able to see. Ari read the tone enough to snicker. “Fine. Fine. We’re even then.”

“Deal.”

“So,” Ari whistled, “If you and your ‘not wife’ ever tie the knot will I get invited to the wedding? Do Mandalorians have weddings?”

“Stop talking.” Din shook his head and turned to leave. He chuckled under his breath. Grogu followed after him⏤ the child’s cheeks full of some local dessert. Great, now he’d be bouncing around the cockpit of the N1 for Maker knows how long.

Ari called a good-bye after him as he left. “Nice seeing you too, Mando! Safe travels!”

Nima told you not to freak out. Her exact words had been, ‘Alright, everything is okay and you are safe and it’s all going to be fine but you need to know this’. Your first horrific thought was that the news would somehow involve your boys. It had been a knee jerk fear that filled your entire soul with dread. Then Nima followed it up with, ‘Kurt’s trial was put on hold’.

And, as wild as it was, you felt relief. That had been your initial reaction. Before Nevarro, hearing those words would have made you immediately throw up. But in this situation, all you could think was how grateful you were that the bad news didn’t involve Din or Grogu.

“I’m sorry.” Nima murmured and you could see how devastated she was to share this news with you. She was the kind of person who felt every emotion she had so deeply. It’s why she was so lively and bubbly as her day to day happiness shined through. However, in moments like this, it broke your heart to see her so empathetic to your own pain. “I went back and forth on telling you, but you made me swear to update you on any news I thought was important and this seemed important. Plus, I didn’t want you to hear on accident from somewhere else or⏤”

“Nima.” You reached out to squeeze her arm and gave her a smile. “It’s okay. Thank you for telling me.” The longer the news lingered in your mind the more it began to unravel your sense of peace. “What happened? Do we know why?”

She shook her head. “They won’t report it yet. Just that it’s delayed.”

Could trials be delayed right in the middle of it? You didn’t know a lot about law or the system surrounding it. Nima was rambling about something or another, trying to bring you comfort, but your thoughts drifted away. You wished Din were here. That wasn’t a surprising thought. Every single day since they left, multiple times a day really, you’d see something or think of something that made you crave their presence more than the baseline. Just yesterday you bought a bag of Grogu’s favorite blue cookies from the sandwich shop just for the hell of it.

You heard your name, mumbled in concern, and your focus snapped back to Nima who was staring at you as if she was waiting for you to crumble. Slowly, you could feel the edges of your nerves beginning to fray, but that’s what work was for right? Distract you from all those dangerous thoughts and fears.

“Seriously. I am okay.” You reassured her once more. “This stays between us, right?”

“Of course.”

Your day carried on as if the news hadn't been shared with you. It would be the one day you wanted to keep busy that all of Nevarro decided to be the picture perfect definition of health. It was in part due to the droid being repaired which took off a lot of lower level urgent cases rather than emergent and it even saw some people with active conditions routinely. That would be it's primary purpose until the new guy that Karga hired eventually got out here.

When you went home for the night, you had only been moving around the kitchen for a few minutes, getting dinner ready, when your com rang for a holocall. You set your armband on the island counter to stand and answer. Grogu’s face immediately filled the entire screen with a loud ‘Ma!’ which pulled a laugh out of you. You needed that.

“Grogu, share.” Din replied though you could only barely see him behind Grogu’s face.

“No.” Grogu replied simply before he began to babble about his day. He was getting better at expressing himself every day and you were picking up on words like ‘new friends’, ‘more food’, and even something that sounded like he was trying to tell you there was someone he didn’t like. Din sighed loudly, but you could hear the amusement in his tone.

“Uh huh.” You nodded your head, giving the little green boy your full attention, “Tell Ma all about it, baby.” It wasn’t until a solid five to ten minutes later that Grogu was appeased with the amount of attention from you that he was willing to share with his father. He wiggled out of the camera’s space so you could actually see Din, and the boy waved with a quick ‘Love Ma!’. You actually felt your heart tighten in your chest. “Love you too, baby.”

Grogu crawled away, probably to stir up trouble where he could find it on the small ship, and you bit back tears. The longer you sat with the news about Kurt the more you felt wired and anxious. Getting to talk to Grogu and see the cheerful boy made a world of difference.

“Mama’s boy.” You heard Din mutter with a chuckle while watching Grogu crawl away to wherever he went. His gaze quickly focused back on you and he let out a soft sigh. “Ner kar’ta. How was your day?”

“It was fine.” You leaned against the counter.

For the next half hour, you and Din talked about anything and everything. He told you about how the rest of his trip on that Outer Rim planet went, and he told you he dealt with Daelar. Din didn’t give you details on the specific, but you found that you didn’t really need them. You didn’t really care. Then you told him about your day, but gradually the two of you got off topic and trailed on about other things. Din was speaking, you could hear the sound of his comforting voice, but you found yourself accidentally zoning out. Your mind not falling into a specific thought, but just drifting away. It wasn’t until the third time that Din called out to you that you realized he had been doing so in the first place.

“Hm? Sorry.” You shook your head.

Even through a holocall, halfway across the galaxy, you could see the worry that Din wore. He had shifted forward in his seat, elbows on his knees, and there was a tension in his shoulders. If that didn’t give him away then the tilt in his head and the tone of his voice did. “What’s wrong? You’re troubled.” He didn’t ask if you were troubled. He just knew you were. “Tell me. Are you okay?”

“I am. I promise.” You replied. The last thing you wanted to do was worry him. Knowing Din, if you told him about Kurt he would do something drastic like immediately come back to Nevarro. Which, on one hand, was tempting, but it would just mean he’d need to leave again. Plus, you knew how important this mission was to him. You were not going to intercede with your own issues and drama. So, you decided on a lie of omission. “This afternoon there had been a patient with a chronic illness I didn’t remember much of. He was also Rodian and their anatomy is a blur to me. So, it was a lot of research and just working on the fly and I guess my brain just won’t let it go. I’m second guessing myself.”

Din’s entire body relaxed, but he stayed leaned over so he was closer to the camera⏤ closer to you. “Don’t. You’re incredible at what you do and immensely clever when you need to think on the spot.” You felt your cheeks warm at his blatant complements. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re the greatest physician in the galaxy.”

You snorted. “Right. And that’s your totally unbiased opinion.” Din nodded. “All that medical knowledge you have makes you an expert in that decision.”

“I have twenty plus years of working a cautery, thank you.” Din replied with a chuckle.

“Yes. Obviously, so qualified.”

“Fine.” Din’s voice took a teasing edge. “You’re the best physician in all of Nevarro. Is that better?”

You let out a loud laugh and just as it had eased your anxious heart with Grogu, Din settled your soul as well. Din was immensely proud of himself. You could see the smug air about him even through the holocall. When your laughter died down, you rested your chin on your hand to hold up your head.

“I miss you.” You mumbled.

Din sighed. “I miss you too, ner kar’ta. But it won’t be much longer.” You perked up. “I am stopping to speak to an…old friend.” The way he said the words made you doubt that this person was an actual friend⏤ or that the relationship was tumultuous at best. “Then on to Mandalore.”

A soft smile filled your features at the news.

“Ma! Ma!” Grogu was yelling again as he tried to get into the picture.

Din scooped the boy up to set him on his laugh and playfully scolded. “You had your turn, ad’ika. It’s my turn with Ma.”

“No. Me.” Grogu argued.

You watched in amusement as Din continued to tease Grogu into a silly argument on who got to have your attention. Maker, you needed them back soon.

Ever since Nima shared the news about Kurt, nightmares plagued you. It was an odd mix of past and future. Some nights Kurt would be carving into you, telling you that you didn’t deserve to live, and other nights you’d have to watch helplessly as he hurt Din and Grogu.

You preferred the nights where Kurt made you bleed.

That added to the fact that while on Mandalore Din was not going to be able to call you due to interference really distracted you. Sleep deprived and anxiety riddled while working in a clinic with medical tools was not the ideal combination. The bacta tank needed refreshing in case of emergencies and during a quiet moment in the office you had told Aayla you planned to get it done. It was dirty work, cleaning the bacta filters, but you didn’t mind it. You hoped forward motion, keeping yourself busy, would keep you awake and sane.

So, when your hand slipped on the mechanism, causing the thick filter door to slam shut on your hand, it had been entirely your own fault.

"Fuck!" You screamed in agony as you felt the bones in your fingers snap. Blinded by the panic, your natural instinct was to try to pull your hand out, but the door was closed too tight for it to budge. All it did was send sharp, lightning strikes of pain shooting up your arm.

Aayla was by your side in an instant and she was shouting commands or reassurances at you, but your mind was in a fog. Maybe it was the pain or the exhaustion, but your body slumped forward onto the bacta tank as your vision went black.

It came back seconds later, but you didn’t feel the same. Rather than pain, you felt the telltale sign of something running through your veins to bring you relief. You were also now lying on a cot rather than standing over the bacta tank.

“What are we supposed to do when the doctor needs a doctor?” Mayfeld scoffed. You couldn't see him from where you laid, but his voice was easily recognizable. So was Vanth’s who replied.

“Use the droid.”

“The droid? That’s your solution? Let the kriffing droid work on the woman Mando is head over heels for?” Mayfeld cried. “He’s better about the damn things, but if he heard about this he’d come back to Nevarro just to kill us. Then he’d somehow save our asses from the brink of death just so he can kill us again.”

You groaned and all your words came out groggily, “Stop talking. Both of you.” There was the sound of steps and suddenly it was Vanth’s face in your vision grinning down at you. “Why are you in here again?”

“Well, because the doc went and got her hand jammed up in some machinery.” Vanth replied. His words reminded you of the injury and you lifted your left hand to see a splint wrapped around your last three fingers. The ring finger was the worst, but all three were discolored and swollen. Vanth’s teasing tone switched to sincerity. “How’re you feeling, little lady?”

“Drugged.” You complained and rubbed your face with your good hand. The lack of pain was nice, but you hated how certain strong medications could make you feel.

“Yeah,” Mayfeld chimed, “That’s the e-bacta shot we gave you.”

“E-bacta??” You scoffed. “Where the hell did you get the e-bacta and why did you bring it into my clinic? That shit is illegal for a reason.” This version of bacta was so potent and strong that it was only one step down from spice, really. Addictive as hell and hard to keep from degrading. “Why did you do that?”

Vanth pointed at your broken hand. “Because that looks kriffing miserable. We’d put you in the tank altogether just to be cautious but we had to break the damn thing to get you unlodged from it.”

“Shit.” You forced yourself to sit up and the room spun. Both men reached out to steady you. “The tank is broken??”

Mayfeld snorted. “Yeah, and so is your hand. Focus on that instead.”

You rubbed your face in a poor attempt to gain some clarity. “Please tell me no one told Mando.”

Maybe he’d still be on Mandalore and there’d be no service for someone to tell him you got hurt. This was just like a few days ago when you learned about Kurt. You couldn’t make Din worry. He needed to focus on his own task and not be thinking about you.

“Told Mando?” Mayfeld cried. “Nobody wants to make the call and tell the indestructible tin can that we let his girl get hurt.”

Vanth shrugged. “We were gonna draw straws later. Us, Karga, Nima, Peli. Short stick has to bear his wrath.” He grinned at you. “But now that you’re up and talking, little lady, looks like we don’t need to do that.”

Mayfeld nodded and pointed at the man. “Yeah, good point. She should tell him. He won’t kill her.”

“Either stop talking or give me more e-bacta.” You grumbled.

Ignoring the well meaning but overbearing men, you cradled your broken hand in your lap. The splint on your hand was decent. You’d need something more permanent, but for a patch job it was solid. The sound of doors sliding open made you glance up to see Aayla fluttering in. She put her hands on her hips with a solid attempt of intimidation.

“I already chased out Nima. Now you two, as well?”

The men glanced at you and you tilted your head and added. “Go. Don’t tell Mando.” As they neared the door you called out one last time. “And…thanks, guys.”

You did appreciate them and how much they cared. Even if some of that caring just came from a healthy fear of Din. Not that you thought Din would actually hurt either man. They were friends and this had very clearly been your fault.

“Did you do this?” You pointed to your hand and Aayla nodded with a sheepish grin. “It’s good. It’s really good, Aayla.” The woman beamed at your praise and you chuckled. “Did you get any scans yet?”

“Yes. We did.” She brought over a datapad and opened up the program that held all the imaging. You took it from her to look over your own scans and winced. Dank farrik. Hairline fractures on your pinky and middle finger, and an actual break in your ring finger. No wonder you blacked out. “Do we need to get you to a facility? Does your finger need surgical correction?”

You praised her line of thought then shook her head. “The fracture will heal itself once splinted. In order to test the tendons I need the swelling to go down just a bit so I can try moving my finger.”

Aayla stepped away and then returned with a cream and some ice. She got you situated on the cot and lifted the bed so you could lay back without being entirely flat. She was going to be a good doctor one day. After she went through school and all that. You leaned your head against the pillow and shut your eyes. It would be best for you to get some solid shut eye while the e-bacta was in your system.

Since reaching Mandalore, everything had happened fast. Back to back to back, Din had what should have been considered one of the worst days of his life. Nearly dying three times qualified as a terrible day. However, Din was not dead. More than just not dead, he was redeemed.

Din Djarin was no longer an Apostate.

He was Mandalorian once more.

That alone could make this a wonderful day, but the knowledge that this meant he could proceed in pursuing you was overwhelming. If he thought about it for too long it’d send him to his knees. The first thing he wanted to do was call you, but that plan was derailed when Imps bombed Bo Katan’s home. Considering the woman had saved his life, and watched Grogu when he was unable, the least he could do was get her to safety. Maybe the covert wasn’t the best place for Bo Katan Kryze, but Din needed to go there anyway so why not use it as a shelter.

As Nima liked to say: two porgs, one blaster.

When everything had settled, the first thing he did was find a quiet spot to call you. Grogu was passed out in his arms and Bo Katan was sitting not too far away in contemplation.

“You alright?” Din questioned.

Bo hummed. “Suppose so. Not how I expected this day to go, but…”

“I’m sorry. About your home.”

“...Thank you.” Bo said after a beat of hesitation.

Din could tell she was still in distress. Lost in her thoughts. He could’ve pressed further, attempt to help her some more, but it would have to wait. If Din didn’t talk to you right now he’d burst. The excitement of being redeemed mingled with the knowledge that for a brief moment today he thought everything had been over.

He activated the holocall and leaned against the cave wall.

When your face appeared on the screen, Din sighed in relief. Being trapped on Mandalore, sending Grogu away, your face had been the last one he thought of. “Ner kar’ta.” He breathed out. Din didn’t even care that Bo was only a few feet away and able to hear his entire conversation. “You are…”

He was going to call her a sight for sore eyes, but you looked more than exhausted. Something was wrong. Your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes and you didn’t have that same glow that Din admired. Before he could question, you spoke, “You can call! That means you’re not on Mandalore anymore, right? How’d it go?”

“I am redeemed.” Din said with pride and despite how tired you look the smile you wore brightened in excitement. You cried out about how happy you were for him and how proud and how much you missed him and couldn’t wait to see him. Hearing that praise from you was somehow better than hearing the Armorer confirm he was no longer an Apostate. Din shook his head, deciding to steer right back to his concern, “You look terrible, ner kar’ta.”

You forced a chuckle. “Exactly what a girl wants to hear.”

“You are the most stunning woman I have ever known, and every day I get to see you, bask in your beauty, is a blessing I am undeserving of.” Din said sincerely and he watched your face twist in mild embarrassment. Your smile turning cute and sheepish. He grew serious once more. “But right now, you look ill. Hurt. So I will ask again," Din shook his head, "What. Is. Going. On?”

You twisted your lips, weighing pros and cons, and then with a sigh you lifted your right hand so it came into the screen’s view. Din’s eyes widened at the swollen and discolored look of your fingers wrapped in a makeshift split.

“Me’bana!? Cuyir gar o'r aaray??” Din barked. Grogu stirred briefly in his arms. “Pehea rucuyir gar shupur'yc!?”

“I don’t speak Mando’a, honey.” You sighed with a small amused smile.

If Din wasn’t so caught off guard and worried about the state of your hand, the nickname that fell from your lips so easily would have made him flush in warmth. Din shook his head. “Are you alright?? What happened?”

“It was stupid.” You shook your head. “Cleaning the bacta tank, I slipped up. Got my hand caught in the filter door.” That wasn’t like you. Typically, you were very cautious and careful with your work. “It looks worse than it actually is, I swear. The swelling has gone down a lot.”

Din narrowed his eyes at your wording. “How much time has passed? When did this happen, ner kar’ta?”

“...Yesterday?” You said it like it was a question.

“Ner kar’ta.”

“Yesterday morning.” You confirmed sheepishly.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You were on Mandalore. No service.”

Din tilted his head, “You tried to hide it at the start of this conversation. If I didn’t press, would you have told me about your accident?” You pressed your lips together and winced. Din blew out a breath of air. “Dank farrik. Ner kar’ta…”

“I didn’t want to worry you.” You said softly with a frown.

Din shook his head again, keeping his voice firm. “I need to know these things.” The thought that you were injured was staggering, but knowing you could be hurt and keep it from him? All he wanted in life was to protect you. Take care of you. “You need to tell me⏤”

“Why?” Bo suddenly called out loud enough that your face morphed into confusion at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. “Did you tell her about how you nearly died three times today?”

Din flinched and your jaw popped open. The exhaustion seemed to be wiped away and replaced with a mix of anger and shock. “You what!?” Din began to speak but you cut him off. “You nearly died today!? Din! What the hell is the mystery voice talking about!?”

“Well, it wasn’t⏤”

“You were gonna scold me about my broken hand and not mention multiple near death experiences??” Din winced. That was a fair point. He didn’t see it from that side. The sight of your discolored and swollen digits had blinded him about every other detail of the day. “Din Djarin⏤ Do you have a middle name? I want to yell your entire name at you but⏤ never mind. Just⏤ Maker! Are you alright? Are you safe? Is Grogu⏤”

Din cut in, “Yes. To all of it. Grogu is safe,” He lifted his arm enough that she could see the snoozing boy, “I am safe, I am okay. In fact, I am less injured than you are right now.” He sighed. “And, you’re right. That wasn’t fair of me. I just… I panicked.”

Your gaze softened but the concern remained. “Yeah. I guess… As long as you guys are safe.”

“We are, and we’ll be home soon.” Din promised. Your lips twitched up into a smile. “Who is taking care of you right now?”

You chuckled. “Uh, me?”

Din hummed in displeasure. He should be there to help you⏤ to take care of you. It killed him to be this far from you. A part of him wanted to stand up right now and fly home, but he needed to talk to the Armorer tomorrow. He needed to have something forged.

“Maybe you should stay with Nima…”

“I can take care of myself, Din.” You grinned. “I’m the greatest doctor in the galaxy, remember?” Din chuckled under his breath. “You really are okay, though?”

Din nodded. “I swear to you, ner kar’ta.”

They only spoke for a few more moments because Din was adamant you go to bed even though it wasn’t very late in Nevarro. You just looked so exhausted. Maybe he’d talk to Karga about a vacation. If they got the new physician to move to Nevarro then the city could afford to spare you for a few days. Vanth could stay a little while longer to cover for him. Din just wanted to take you somewhere nice⏤ somewhere relaxing. Though he should probably focus on actually courting you before he starts thinking of honeymoon options.

When the holocall ended, Din glanced over at Bo who simply tilted her head at him. He scoffed, “Really?”

“Seemed like pertinent information.”

“Your hand still looks like shit.”

You glanced up at Nima with a tight lipped smile. “A little rude considering I saved your hand.” She snickered. She wasn’t wrong. The swelling had improved but the bruising still looked Maker awful. Though, with Aayla’s help you were able to get a real splint on it. “I thought you were bringing me lunch.”

“I thought you were going to come with me to lunch.” She argued.

Luckily, the clinic wasn’t busy. So you shrugged out of your white coat, leaving you in just your scrubs, and then followed Nima who was leading the way with a bounce. There had been no further news on the Kurt situation which left you in turmoil. However, Nima had been doing her best to distract you and anytime anxiety did try to wash over you, you just reminded yourself that your boys would be home in the next 48 hours or so.

“The Razor Crest project is going so well.” Nima clapped her hands. “I mean, we’re still missing some key pieces, but Peli and I are nearly done with the engine rebuild. Can you believe that?” You hummed in interest. It’d be nice to see it eventually. The Crest was such a strong presence in so many of Din’s story and Grogu’s pictures. Obviously, this wasn’t the exact same. Version 2.0, but still. “Peli said⏤”

The sound of a low rumble filled the air. As you, Nima, and all the other citizens standing outside paused to listen to the sound, a large shade began to cover the city. As if the sun was being blocked out. You looked up and your eyes widened at the sight of a huge ship.

“Shit. That’s a Corsair.” Nima mumbled in shock. Just as the words left her mouth, an alarm began to blare loudly and the voice of a droid called for evacuation to the lava fields. You didn't even have a spare second to panic because that’s when blaster fire rained down on Nevarro.

mando'a translations

ner kar'ata: my heart Me'bana?: What happened? Cuyir gar o'r aaray?: Are you in pain? Pehea rucuyir gar shupur'yc?: How were you injuried?

taglist:

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilra @fawn-kitten @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @jamesbuckybarnes @yorkeylover @teawrites01 @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner @dindjarindude @dankfarrick29 @rh1nestonecowg1rl @garbo-lesbo @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace @onceinamando @catharinaroxastova @uwu-i-purple-you @modiddys-blog @stagerightlauren @mini-bees @xxinvisblexx @adoringanakin @sagegreensensei @spidey-3 @sydney-1209 @thepascalofus @hrtsforpascal @banana-lol @daybleedsintonightfall11 @lil-dragon-draws @guccistardust @ideajpeg @harriedandharassed @leithatnight @elfamosotoga @damnzelsoul @the-anchored-sailor-girl @morks-watermelon @katelynmarieyt @taylorann2013 @chonkercatto @dheet @liadamerondjarin @fallinallinmendes @missdicaprio @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @alphaash99 @djarinsmixtape @pcrushinnerd @closedaddition @thelovelyhann @harrys-sunflower-bakery @mayaaaaah @theway-thisis

#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #a fresh start #female reader #mando x reader #mando x you #mando #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #fluff #angst/comfort #domestic bliss!din djarin

574 notes · View notes

wooawrites · 7 months

Text

love or letter: woozi version

pairing: l. jihoon x fem! reader

summar: reader accidentally sends head producer jihoon into unwanted popularity, creating tension within their office.

word count: 12k+

genre: semi-enemies to lovers, office romance, fluff

playlist

love or letter series

“Hello and welcome back to… Boo!”

“...Seok!”

“...Soon!”

“Radio Show!”

Chorus of laughter could be heard from around the recording room as the three hosts finished the final portion of the introduction together. Papers could also be heard being shuffled as the hosts eased themselves out of their advertisement break and into their next segment.

“Thank you very much for the love and support you sent us on our official Instagram page during our short university break. I hope all of you enjoyed my takeover for that day—”

“Yeah, I’m sure everyone enjoyed the tiger room tour you gave to our poor listeners, Hoshi.” DK interrupted. A thump could be heard, along with DK yelping in pain for a split second. “Just so listeners know, Kwon Hoshi just hit me, his coworker/host.”

Hoshi could be heard yelling something at him in rushed sentences, though it sounded as if he were underwater from the quality of the mics. They only seemed to stop themselves when a tapping from glass could be heard. Both sounded to be settled back into their seats as they continued with their show.

“Right, onto everyone’s favorite segment: Love or Letter!” Hoshi said excitedly, though there seemed to be a lack for it’s usual excitement in the studio as weak claps could be heard instead. Hoshi seemed to have picked this up as he asked, “Huh? Is something wrong?”

“I know that most of you are here for our most recent Love or Letter, but this one is a little strange. It’s only about half a page long but it’s quite… A tell-all, that’s for sure.” Seungkwan commented, letting out an awkward cough as he shook at the letter in front of him. Scraping from chairs could be heard, which was followed up by laughter from the two other hosts. “Kwon Hoshi, you read it since this is your undoing.”

Laughter had yet to cease, the sound of what’s mixed between a snort and crying could only be heard from the studio. Seungkwan did not hesitate to yell out his fellow host’s name once more, only earning a winded “Okay, okay!” from the other man.

Hoshi cleared his throat, remnants of a laugh ready to slip from his lips as he spoke. “Okay… Dear BooSeokSoon, usually this kind of letter comes from cliche shows and I dearly hope this letter becomes buried amongst the many letters your Love or Letter Team receives on a daily basis, but this is not much of advice and more of a confession…"

Tapping from the glass could be heard once more, a little more panicked than last time. Hoshi let out a hum, as if ignoring whoever was tapping on the other side, continuing. "...to your producer, Jihoon. The moment I saw his picture on Hoshi's Instagram post, I couldn't help but fall for him. I understand if he won't accept my affections, but if he ever sees or hears this letter, please know that Kim Gi—"

"AHHH!" Someone interrupts. Seungkwan. "We read the letters, not expose their names and addresses."

"How could he? She put her name and number down for our PD Jihoon to take." DK says, laughing. The knocking turned more erratic, silencing anything else anyone had to say. DK coughed. “Well… Dear writer, I’m sorry to say this will be a Letter. Our PD Jihoon is pretty anti—”

“Caught up with work!” Hoshi interrupted. “Anyways, sorry to cut the segment so short, we’ve hit a bit of a little issue here at the radio station. Tune in tomorrow night for our other special segment, Paranormals With Peachy, and to hear our daily campus news! Thank you again for listening to BooSeokSoon Radio and have a good night everyone!”

A chorus of goodbye’s from the other hosts could be heard. A final awkward sigh could be heard before the radio cuts off—

[Name] wasn’t sure if she wanted to peel away from the glass just yet. She could feel him staring at the back of her head, which would’ve frightened her if she wasn’t so exhausted. Her palm stung from how hard she was hitting the glass to make the hosts stop talking.

How am I supposed to take tomorrow’s exam if my palm’s going to bruise up? She asked herself, eyes never leaving Seokmin, who offered her a passive smile as he, Soonyoung, and Seungkwan settled their headsets on their respective mic stands. They were deliberately slow this time, much to [Name]’s chagrin.

“You let one of those letters slip through.” His voice held no such emotion, like it usually does, but the emphasis could be heard even if it was verbal.

[Name] closed her eyes, mentally bringing her walls up as she turned around to look at Jihoon. “I swear I made sure to separate the piles properly.”

“Not properly enough.” Jihoon chastised. The hosts were sure to be quiet to shut the door as quietly as possible, though it didn’t stop Jihoon from snapping his head at them, eyes narrowing at the three men. “And why did you three just keep reading?”

[Name] was glad everyone else from their respective teams were kind enough to clear away from the room before the radio show ended. At least this way they wouldn’t have to hear four of the five members that drove the show to be chewed out.

“Because it was entertaining.” Soonyoung answered honestly, sending a teasing smile toward Jihoon, who only rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Jihoon, it was a little funny. Those confession letters honestly just come from pure intentions—”

“And somehow makes a fool out of me—” Jihoon snapped.

“—and cut [Name] some slack. She spent the whole week separating your confession letters from the actual confession letters, printed out apology notes to any of the addressed senders, and was the one to narrow down the possible stories for us to use. And that was on top of everything else she’s usually supposed to do.” Soonyoung explained, giving the younger woman an easy smile.

Seungkwan nodded. “I’m sure someone just mixed up the papers when it was brought over to us. [Name] would’ve spotted it if she was the one to physically take it over to us herself.”

Jihoon was only seething in silence, [Name] fighting off the urge to tear at her hair in frustration. Her eyes narrowed in on her hand, finding the bruise forming on her wrist more interesting than the conversation. Though if she were to be honest, any conversation could be better than this one.

Her mind replayed every single moment that happened up until she handed off the stacks to her assistants. Had she told the wrong person to bring it to Seokmin? Why hadn’t they double checked like she asked them to? Either way, she knew it was her fault some way or another and she wasn’t sure how long she’s going to keep her job after this.

“I’m sorry.” [Name] said finally, bowing deeply to Jihoon and the three other hosts. “I swear I separated them—”

“Yeah, I know.” Jihoon started, only stopping when [Name] sent him a look that only seemed befitting to his own special glare.

“At least let me finish?” [Name] suggested, voice quipped as if she were a school teacher talking to a child. “I should have double—no, triple checked those stacks of letters. If I had done that in the first place, the segment wouldn’t have to be cut short and we wouldn’t be here.”

Seokmin shook his head. “No it’s okay. I should’ve checked on the papers before the show started too instead of handing it over to the other two. Besides, this is just your first mistake. You haven’t made any since you were moved up from production assistant to head producer for the Love or Letter team.”

[Name] nodded, appreciating the hosts' understanding, though she wasn’t sure if Jihoon would accept her apology. She bowed again to Jihoon, muttering another quiet apology to the man.

“Just… Don’t do it again. And make sure to keep your team in check and I want you to be the one to physically bring it over to Seokmin so you can triple check you have the right story next time. Got it?” Jihoon asked. At [Name]’s nod, he turned for the door, stopping as he turned to take a good look at [Name]. “And next time, don’t stay up so late trying to separate those letters. You’ve got five other people on your team to help you with those.”

With those words, Jihoon exited, Soonyoung following shortly after. [Name] sat on the leather couch behind her, digging her head into her hands as she let out a tired sigh. The couch dipped, Seokmin’s hand patting her back. “Don’t sweat it. Everyone makes mistakes all the time.”

Sungkwan hummed in agreement. “And it’s not as if Jihoon’s picture perfect either. He made plenty of mistakes before he became the radio show’s producer.”

“That’s the thing: before he was a producer. I’m a producer now and I made a mistake even rookies were able to avoid.” [Name] grumbled, rubbing at her eyes.

Sungkwan and Seokmin let out noises of discontent at their friend. “Don’t be so hard on yourself; the school year’s just begun and you’re still adjusting. Jihoon’s pretty forgiving after he’s finished with his chastising; he’s too busy to stay too mad.”

[Name] rolled her eyes at the last notion. “Sure, sure. As if he hasn’t had it out for me the minute I stepped foot into the building to meet up with him this summer.”

She hadn’t been wrong; when she had just been a production assistant to Yeri a year prior, Lee Jihoon had been nice to her—or polite, at least. Always offered small bows of acknowledgement whenever she was trailing behind Yeri or was by herself in the small office space provided to the Love or Letter team.

Once Yeri had graduated, Mr. Yang had been the one to announce [Name]’s step up into the open position her mentor left behind, suddenly making Jihoon become colder for some reason toward her.

The meet up she had with him and Mr. Yang had gone smoothly on the surface, but she could still feel the coldness behind Jihoon’s tone when narrowing down expectations needed once she became a producer.

Regardless, she kept her temper from rising and did her best to keep her composure throughout the meeting, though that didn’t stop her from dropping certain comments at him afterward. Especially when she felt as if she wasn’t wrong or trying to amend her wrongdoings.

Maybe she was just overthinking, but she was sure Lee Jihoon had it out for her and she was more than ready to hold her ground. Except now, though. That blunder was definitely her fault.

“Don’t be like that.” Seokmin responded, nudging her shoulder. “You probably just need to get some more sleep; there’s been a lot of confession letters sent to Jihoon after Soonyoung posted a picture of him last year and it accumulated during the summer. He seemed to understand in the end anyways.”

“Right… Right…”

“You have been getting enough rest, right?” Seungkwan asked, though all three of them knew the answer already. “How have you been?”

[Name] sighed. “Fine, I guess.” Silence had never felt louder as she could feel her best friends eyeing her suspiciously. “I’m just… Here, okay? It’s better than the last time you guys asked me if it makes you feel better.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Seungkwan asked, standing up. “We can go get food and head back to my apartment.”

“No, I just wanna get my stuff and head home.” [Name] responded honestly, making sure to offer Seungkwan a kind smile. “Thank you for being concerned for me, though. I really mean that.”

Sungkwan nodded. “Any time.”

“We’re always here, you know.” Seokmin said, offering her a side hug before they stood up.

They all walked out together, separating when [Name] walked over to her office and the other two moving toward their own. “Don’t stay up all night!” Sungkwan said.

“I won’t!” [Name] responded, well aware she was most likely going to, in fact, stay up all night. Her bag had already been packed and her coat folded on top of her chair. With a quick swing at both items, [Name] walked out of her office, fishing for her headphones as she walked out.

Two familiar voices and her name could be heard at the other end of the hall, however, making [Name] stop under the assumption her name was being called. [Name] was ready to call back and ask what was needed before she registered what was being said.

“...some slack, already, man. Do you not see how exhausted the poor girl is?” Soonyoung asked. “And you can tell she’s definitely going to make up for it. I swear she would have broken the glass with how hard she was tapping the glass earlier. She’s really trying her best.”

Jihoon sighed. “Her best isn’t enough. I don’t understand why Yeri and Mr. Yang wanted her become a producer with only a year under her belt. She’s too young to work with that kind of role and it’s obvious.”

“Why are you so hard on her anyways? The Lover or Letter team liked her before and after she became a producer.”

“I’m not being hard on her; I just don’t like something I spent four years building up with you come crumbling down by some second year.”

[Name] held her breath. Did he really think she was that incapable? Enough to tear down a four year radio station? She was almost ready to jump out of her hiding spot, ready to tell Jihoon off and ask him if he thought of Seungkwan and Seokmin, who were also second years with higher positions at the radio station, that way as well.

She only halted when she heard Jihoon yelp. “Ow! You dick!”

“You’re the one being a dick.” Soonyoung admonished. “Like I said, cut her some slack. She’s definitely trying so give her a chance. It’s only the beginning of the school year, too, so let everyone adjust. Besides… I think something’s going on with her.”

Jihoon huffed. “Why?”

“I don't know. She just seems like she’s keeping herself busy from something and she wasn’t like this last year. Of course, you wouldn’t know because you never spoke to her.”

“Hey—”

“That being said, be nice to her. She really did work her ass off this week; I swear she practically lives here if she’s not in class…”

Their voices faded out and [Name] could only wonder to herself how much had she changed and how obvious was it to the point that even an acquaintance like Soonyoung noticed it. Her brain was too muddled to think of anything, though, exhaustion clinging to her tighter.

She put on her headphones, immediately allowing the sound of instrumental music to flood her senses. She walked with the intention of slumber, though her mind continued to replay the continued conversation in her head, fighting off the sting whenever she remembered Jihoon’s words.

Naturally, news made its way around campus about last week’s fiasco on Love or Letter. Everywhere [Name] went, she could hear someone talking or spreading word of what happened in Love or Letter. And she never felt more embarrassment in her life.

When she found herself at the office of BSS Radio, she was quick to speed off to the Love or Letter office. [Name] evaded any probing questions the other segment teams had for her.

She wasn’t sure she was ready to explain her mistake and be the focus of ridicule just yet, though it seemed she had been the only one to view it that way. The segment’s events spread around like wildfire—interesting everyone and essentially inviting more people to listen to the radio station, Love or Letter in particular.

[Name] had expected some kind of termination request from Jihoon, especially after what she had heard from him from that night, but she hadn’t heard from him at all since the incident. She had wondered for the duration of the week as to why, though a quick call from the Love or Letter production manager, Colette, telling her to come to the station nearly sent her into a panic.

Like usual, [Name] speed walked to her office, more curious as to what exactly Colette needed from her if she was needed so desperately at the station.

Maybe I’m getting fired and Colette was promoted…? [Name] had initially thought as she opened the door.

“[Name] wait—!” A voice called out, cutting off when [Name] let out a gasp as a pile of letters fell at her feet. Evelyn, one of the new production assistants, had made her presence known as she leaned over the remaining pile in front of the door to pick up the fallen letters. “Sorry, I should’ve moved them.”

[Name] leaned down to help her. From behind the girl sat Colette, who was opening letters and sorting them into bins. Her eyes only furrowed in confusion when their eyes locked, silently asking her what was happening.

“Ever since word went out on what happened, more people have sent in letters.” Colette explained, waving a piece of paper around. “Those piles on your feet are unopened ones. Come in and help us sort it out.”

[Name] nodded, speechless at the information as she stepped over. From another side of the room stood the Love or Letter writers, Amelia, Eunwoo, and Jian. They offered a wordless nod as they filtered letters into more bins. “How many people sent letters?” She asked, a little afraid of what the number was.

“Almost three hundred—that’s twice as much as what we usually get on a usual basis.” Amelia informed, an excited smile on her face. “Almost all of them are actual letters instead of the ones we’ve been getting. Of course some of them are kind of useless, though—majority love confessions to Jihoon and others just writing crude things to see if they can get it on air—”

“Which we won’t.”Colette said. “Because all six of us are gonna sort this out together instead of leaving [Name] in the dust with this pile. And we won’t be giving the wrong files without checking over with everyone, will we?”

Everyone nodded in agreement and [Name] made use of their cooperation as she sat down on her desk and started working on sorting papers out with them.

“You should’ve seen the look on Jihoon’s face.” Evelyn said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him express anything past irritation until he came to the letter box today; he had to call every single one of us to help with moving these letters to this room. He looked like he was stuck in a daze!”

“Why did he call all of you and not me?” [Name] inquired, only earning a shrug from the younger girl. She shot Colette a look in confusion. “Does he not trust me anymore or something?”

Colette shook her head, eyeing her oddly. “Quite the opposite. He asked me where you were and I said you’re probably still asleep since you’re done with class. Told me to only call you unless it’s necessary.” She motioned for the piles of letters. “It’s kind of necessary right now so sorry if I woke you up.”

“You didn’t.” [Name] reassured, opening the letter in her hands, sorting through the papers as if it were second nature once she found herself moving.

Almost an hour had passed through their sorting and [Name] only listened to her team’s conversation, only passing in conversations with Colette every now and then. A knock on the door brought her back to reality. Leaning her head over the pile of letters in front of her, she spotted Jihoon hovering at the doorway, red envelope in hand.

His eyes scanned the room, mouth ajar as he checked the space around them. "Uwah…" Was all he could manage out. "This is a lot."

"Yeah it is." [Name] agreed, watching as he tried to carefully step over the pile of envelopes at the doorway in amusement. He shuffled his way over to [Name], staring at her curiously.

"I thought you were supposed to be asleep."

"Couldn't." [Name] answered simply, seamlessly opening another envelope as she quickly filtered through it to decide on which pile to place it. Jihoon frowned at her words.

"Why?"

[Name] shot him a strange look. "I just couldn't. Why are you so concerned anyways?"

She bit back her tongue when she realized how sharp her tone was, though she had no means of apologizing. If he was more than willing to express his displeasure with her whenever he felt like it, she most definitely can do the same thing.

Her eyes were trained on his, noticing the slight twitch when she sent out her biting words toward him. She waited for him to respond to her in some sort of tone similar to her’s, half expecting him to mention that her job is still currently being evaluated for a clause of termination.

Instead, Jihoon only sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before moving his hand up to push back some of his hair. “Nothing. Here’s information for next week’s radio show.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you.” [Name] said half heartedly. She stood up, accepting the red envelope and setting it on her table. She returned her attention back to the letters right afterwards, though she could still see Jihoon hovering around longer than expected. “...do you need anything else, Jihoon?”

“Huh?” Jihoon asked, clearly in a bit of a daze. As much as he attempted to remain as stoic as possible, he was horrible at hiding his embarrassment. “Oh—uhm, no. Good luck with all of this. And, uh, don’t push yourself too hard this time. Wouldn’t want something like last week to happen.”

[Name] felt irritation bubble up in her chest, though she pushed it aside as she watched Jihoon awkwardly turn and walk out of her office. She waited for the door to shut before turning to make eye contact with Colette, who looked just as confused as she was.

Since when did Jihoon become so concerned? Or, even more shocking, when did Jihoon ever hold a conversation with her for more than five minutes when it’s not a staff meeting?

If there was anything [Name] hated more than anything, it was phone calls. She wasn’t sure why she was so irked by them; maybe it was because she was so used to speaking to people in person? Or it could be the fact she wasn’t able to gauge what people were actually able to feel if she can’t see their face.

Whatever reason it may be, [Name] hated them to the point she would avoid them if they weren’t work related. Though, recently she’s been needing to answer personal ones more frequently, much to her chagrin.

“Are you coming home this weekend? It’s your dad’s—”

“I’m well aware of what this weekend is, Mom.” [Name] interrupted, letting out an irritated groan when he hip knocked onto a stack of paperwork to the ground.

It was late into the afternoon and [Name] was already behind on whatever needed to be finished before she left today. She cursed herself for answering the phone and having to prepare herself for an argument with her mother.

“Well then are you coming? You hardly leave campus since you went back to school. Honestly it’s kind of selfish of you to leave like that.”

[Name] snorted out a laugh, temper rising at her mother’s backhanded comments. “So, are you trying to get me to come visit or just helping me find reasons to not come home?”

“That’s not what I meant. It’s just… You haven’t been home to help out like you promised.”

Seriously…? “Last time I checked, I was helping pay for the twins’ uniforms and cram school funds.” [Name] said, voice tense. “And I’m paying for their fees for their daily tutoring every week.”

A growing headache was blooming on the side of her head and [Name] was more than ready to hang up any minute to tend to it. She barely processed the swing of her office door, which revealed Jihoon walking in with courteous silence.

He rocked on the balls of his heels as he pointed at his watch, indicating the time for her to turn in one of her written proposals for next week’s segment. [Name] nodded, standing up with one hand on her phone as she rifled through the pile of papers she had all but forgotten on the floor.

“I mean, can you just be more present with us?”

“Honestly, with the way you talk to me, no.” [Name] said, anger almost bubbling over as she cast a glance at the still waiting Jihoon. Once she found the right papers, she double checked for a moment. “Mom, I have to go. I’ll call you later, bye.”

She hung up before she could hear whatever else her mother had to say stepping over the piles of papers to make her way over to Jihoon, who eyed her strangely.

“Everything alright..?” He asked.

[Name] only sighed. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Okay.” Jihoon replied, shrugging. For some reason, the simple response brought her shoulders to relax slightly, glad someone wasn’t going to press her for answers at the moment. “Anything you want changed for next week’s segment?”

“Not much. Evelyn mentioned something about Love or Letter needing a catchy tune now that the segment’s been spiking in popularity, though.” [Name] said, watching as Jihoon’s face morphed into slight disdain. She fought off a laugh, reminding herself to not question his obvious dislike if he wasn’t going to question her phone call.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Was all Jihoon said instead. “Though I would need someone from your team to work with so I can see what you all want.”

[Name] hummed, thinking back on who on her staff was available the following month. “Hmm… Colette is out of town for her internship and Evelyn is visiting her grandma for the next two weeks. And the writers are working on an upcoming event already but I think I can pull one of them out to help you.”

“What about you?”

“Huh?” [Name] asked, eyes that were once downcasted on her phone shooting back up to stare at Jihoon’s face.

He motioned to her. “What about you? Maybe you can just help me.”

“I’ve got a family obligation this weekend.” [Name] said, motioning to her phone as if to remind him about the conversation earlier.

Jihoon shrugged. “Just tell me when you come back and we can work on it together. It’s not as if you don’t practically live here anyways.”

“I don’t practically live here…”

“You have pajama pants to change into when it gets too late.”

[Name] shot him an odd look, not sure if she should question how he knew about her Hello Kitty printed pants that she thought she had hidden away in one of her desk drawers.

“Fine, fine. I don’t get why you’re so adamant that it has to be me, though.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “You’re the only producer for this team. Producers are supposed to work with each other, right?”

"Right… I just wasn't sure if—" [Name] bit her lip back, not wanting him to find out she overheard his conversation with Soonyoung. "I'll let you know once I get back on campus and we can work on it that day."

"Working the day you get back?" Jihoon questioned, earning a lackluster nod from [Name]. “Don’t you ever get sick of this place?”

“Not really; I kinda like my job.” [Name] said, though the tone in her voice was unconvincing.

It was true; [Name] did like her job, despite all the trouble she’s recently had to undo. Something about the process of turning an idea into reality fascinated her and being a producer provided that type of environment for her.

[Name] had lost count of how many times she found herself pooled into her work to the point she’d have to get dragged out of the office by Seungkwan or Seokmin.

Right now, [Name] was more than tempted to see if she can go push her limits since she ended her phone call with her mother. She was sure this would also most likely cause Jihoon to not want to work with her if he ever saw her working conditions.

“If we’re done here, I need to head home now instead of later. I’ve got a few bags to pack right now.” [Name] said, clear with her intentions of wanting to end the conversation.

Jihoon stared at her, though what was going on in his mind, she hadn’t a clue. He only nodded once he let the words process through his brain. “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll see you when you come back; I’m working late so this is probably the last you’ll see of me.”

“Working late on a Friday? Aren’t you sick of this place?” [Name] asked, holding back a smile when she echoed his words. He only huffed out a laugh—a rare thing from him, honestly, [Name] should’ve recorded it to show Seungkwan and Seokmin—shaking his head as he moved aside to let [Name] out the door.

They didn’t bother greeting each other goodbye—a habit they both formed with one another due to the weird work tension they had. [Name] made sure to remind herself to change that once she came back now that some of that pressure had all but subsided.

Strange. That was the word Yeri had used when she mentioned her for the first time to Jihoon.

“She’s kind of strange, according to Professor Im. But talented. Super talented. He was practically begging me to take her under my wing so she can have a taste of production life early. Mr. Yang seemed impressed with her too. Just give her a shot this year, Jihoon, so you can see what they’re talking about.”

Jihoon had almost believed the upperclassman, expecting some kind of extraordinary freshman to be making waves at the radio station. Instead, he was met with a frantic looking girl always cowering behind Yeri whenever there were staff meetings.

Regardless, he was nice to [Name] during her first year, even taking in her recommendation of bringing Seungkwan and Seokmin in to be new possible hosts for the radio show after the previous two hosts graduated.

He had thought whatever Yeri was spewing out previously had disenchanted her before she graduated, choosing a different employee to be her successor for the Love or Letter segment team. Yet, she had still chosen the cowering girl and irked him beyond a point.

His doubts only subsided slightly when Soonyoung had mentioned to him she was acting differently than she had the previous year. He hadn’t believed his friend, thinking Soonyoung had some sort of soft side on the girl for being younger than them, until he had admitted that, yes, [Name] was anything but that frightened girl now.

Honestly, if the circumstances would be different, Jihoon would be glad someone like her broke out of her shell. He wasn't, though. Something just felt off about her behavior—like it was forced. Regardless, the strange girl he remembered was still around, evident from watching her stare at herself in muted horror at the gym for a little too long.

And the strange girl definitely hadn't left as he heard a crash sound from the other side of her apartment door, making him jump at the sudden noise he wasn't able to see. A shriek that definitely didn't sound like [Name]'s rang through from the door.

"Kill it! Kill it!"

"I can't if you're running so much—you're scaring it away!"

Those two voices definitely sounded familiar, though.

A sudden thump! could be heard, followed with a soft, "You're going to get us kicked out before the lease ends, you know." [Name].

Footsteps could be heard making its way to the door and [Name] stood before Jihoon, a slipper with a thoroughly squished spider in her left hand, still retracted as if ready to smack another one. Jihoon could only offer a stuttered, "He-eyy." in shock, eyeing the two figures behind her.

If they hadn't already been embarrassed, then Seokmin and Seungkwan definitely were with the way they made eye contact with Jihoon—who suddenly remembered he was their boss. [Name] hadn't seemed to care, however, setting the slipper down on the tiled floor of the entrance and stepping back.

"Oh, you weren't kidding when you said Jihoon was coming over." Seokmin said, gaping as the man walked in and took off his shoes (which was deliberately placed far away from [Name]'s spider'd slipper).

[Name] only offered a frown. "You didn't believe me?"

"No one would believe the idea of you and Jihoon working together, period." Seungkwan chimed in, also watching as [Name] and Jihoon exchanged awkward glances. "Why are you two working together?"

"Love or Letter jingle." Jihoon finally stated simply. He motioned toward the guitar strapped to his back. "We were supposed to meet a few days ago but—"

"I got a stay at home order from a certain someone." [Name] interrupted, giving Seungkwan a pointed look.

"You barely got home before you started spewing nonsense about going to the studio!" He countered back. “You’ll overwork yourself ag—”

Seungkwan bit back his words, sharing a knowing look with [Name], who only stared back at him blankly, as if attempting to stay unreadable. Seokmin shuffled his feet awkwardly, trying his best not to glance between his friends and Jihoon.

Jihoon could only raise an eyebrow. That was the first time he heard that. When they had been messaging each other back and forth, he had been under the impression that [Name] was already back home when in fact she was probably still with her family? He watched as [Name] shifted uncomfortably, as if not wanting to talk further about it.

He only sighed. "Workaholic lifestyles are hard to break." He said instead, offering [Name] a sympathetic glance. "Are we going to your room or staying out here?"

[Name] frowned at him for a moment, staying silent a little too long for his liking before she pointed toward a door. "My room. If we stay out here, Seokmin and Seungkwan might try giving unwanted input."

"Hey—" Seokmin started.

"Or squawk like a bunch of chickens if they see another spider."

"HEY!" Seungkwan countered this time, face bright red.

[Name] ignored her fuming roommates, motioning for Jihoon to follow her. He didn't bother to think twice, finding her nonchalant behavior more amusing than offending.

When he entered the room, he hadn't expected it to be so… Was girly the right term? He eyed the heart shaped pencil sharpener and the various plants being held by Sanrio themed pots.

No, cute. He thought as he made eye contact with a Badtz-Maru pot. "Nice pots." He mused to [Name], who was cleaning up her space. She glanced at him, then the pot.

"He looks like you." She says instead, making him give her a strange look.

He pointed at a Gudetama shaped pot on her window. "And that looks like you."

[Name] glanced at it, offering a small laugh. "Yeah, it does. Doesn't it?"

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up for a moment, caught off hearing her laugh—genuine and not the little huff of air he usually hears from her when she’s trying to amuse someone. He shook it off, however, reminding himself why he was here.

They worked together a little too well. It almost scared Jihoon with how well they got along tonight. Though, he had been anticipating some arguments so maybe he was just stupid for making such presumptions. Hours had gone by and the only reason they had to stop was when Seungkwan knocked on the door, popping his head in after [Name] called his name out.

He motioned to something in his hand. “Take it.” He commanded, shaking the bottle of water in his hand.

[Name] rolled her eyes, glancing at the clock on her desk. “It’s not even 8PM yet.”

“You almost forgot to take them last night. It’s better to take them early.” The blond answered back dismissively.

“You worry more than me.” Jihoon heard her murmur under her breath as she pushed herself off her seat.

“What?” Seungkwan challenged, eyes sharp when he locked eyes with [Name]’s.

“Nothing, dad.” [Name] teased, holding her hand out. A set of capsules escaped from Seungkwan’s hands and spilled onto her. [Name] took them quickly, drawing the pills down with the water bottle Seungkwan handed over to her right after.

Seungkwan nodded in approval, casting a glance at Jihoon before saying, “Okay, back to work.”

“M’kay.” [Name] answered back dismissively, settling back down on her seat. She kept her eyes on the door until it was fully shut, letting out a sigh once she heard it click in place. She looked over at Jihoon, who was still silently watching. “Sorry… He gets worried too much.”

“He’s a good friend.” Jihoon complimented, pausing for a moment. “Or boyfriend..?”

[Name] huffed. “‘Stand in-parent' is a better term for him.” She countered, shaking her head. “I didn’t balance school and work properly last year and he’s worried it’ll happen again if I keep working—which, fine, I get but I kinda wanna not get behind on anything for the studio—”

She cut herself off, biting at her lip to keep her from saying anything further. [Name] shifted back into her seat, eyes nearly burning holes onto her computer screen.

For some reason, the hairs on the back of Jihoon’s neck stood up again. “It’s fine. I get it.” He offered her. She sent him a sparing glance—as if silently begging him to change the subject. Again, he nodded, setting his guitar back on his lap again, though not before adding something. “It’s okay to, y’know…Not hold up a persona around me. I don’t bite.”

He only offered an awkward smile as he noticed, again, she was giving him a long, hard stare.

“Let’s go back to the song.” She said.

Whether she took his words to heart or not, a weight seemed to have lifted off [Name]’s shoulders, sitting a lot more relaxed in her seat. A wave of relief washed over him when he noticed the strange girl from last year had come up just a little bit to the surface as he watched her for a moment before turning his attention to her computer screen.

Pacing. Jihoon noticed that was a tendency she had when she was overwhelmed. She'd move from one end of the room to another in such a short span of time, no matter how big the distance. Jihoon was impressed; in fact, he wasn't sure if he could even take his eyes off her from how quick she did it.

Was he trying to figure out how she moves so fast or was it because he just wants to stare at her? He couldn't figure it out; he was still trying to figure out a bigger problem: why was she pacing so much?

“You wanna calm down, you’re distracting me.” Jihoon said, watching as [Name] halted in her footsteps.

“I don’t know how everything else in your room doesn’t distract you.” She says, eyes looking around the constellation ceiling.

They had gotten into a weird rhythm of going to each other’s apartments once a week to work on Love or Letter’s opening music. It was Jihoon’s turn to host, though he had a difficult time trying to think (let alone, play) anything with the amount of pacing his guest was doing.

“You act like you’ve never seen my room before.” He mumbles, glancing down at his music sheet, trying his best not to stare at the wandering girl. He couldn’t, however, after seeing her inch closer to his figurine shelves. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” [Name] responded, eyeing his Cardcaptor Sakura figurine intently. She cast a glance back at him. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to touch your prized possessions, Mr. Lee.”

[Name] laughed as she watched Jihoon roll his eyes at the nickname she gave him after showing him a love confession addressing him like that. He set his guitar down, leaning back in his chair as he turned himself to face her.

“You only pace when something’s wrong. Now, tell me what’s wrong so I don’t have to worry about having to clean up broken glass later.” He said, pushing the empty chair beside him out. [Name], albeit a little annoyed, made no move to argue as she sat down.

“I failed my exam today.”

Jihoon shot her a confused look. A part of him wanted to ask her if that was all, if that was really the reason why she was doing all this incessant pacing. The sullen look on her face was enough to tell him to do anything but that at the moment.

“Oh… That sucks.” He says, earning a hopeless look from [Name].

“You really suck with reassuring people, you know that?” She states. He only offered a silence of agreement to the statement, staring at her and waiting. “But, yeah it does suck; I studied just about everything and still managed to fail. Not really the best feeling.”

“So why the pacing?” Jihoon asked.

[Name]’s face morphed to one of embarrassment as she said, “I didn’t want to bother you with my life problems and pacing around helps me keep quiet… Clearly that didn’t work out.”

Jihoon smiled at the small joke. “Well, I’m in need of a break anyways. I lost track of time trying to figure this music out. Let’s just sit for a few minutes. Or pace.”

“Huh, Lee Jihoon admitting to a break? Didn’t think your little robot heart could do that.” [Name] said, earning a soft elbow to her side.

“You’re one to talk.” Jihoon responds, smile widening as he watches [Name] feign hurt when overdramatically rubbing her side. “I heard from Colette you barely even pay attention to time and just hold yourself up in the office. She’s also the one who told me about your Hello Kitty pajama pants.”

He nearly burst out into laughter when he heard [Name] whisper “Traitor” under her breath. Jihoon held himself back as he reminded himself that it might end up bringing one of his other roommates into his room, essentially bursting whatever safe bubble [Name] felt with him right now.

“You’re kinda funny if you try.” [Name] says, earning an odd look from Jihoon at the backhanded comment. “Almost made me forget about my failed exam.”

“Ahhhh, don’t think about it.” Jihoon said, waving a hand. “The more you dwell on it, the more you spiral. You shouldn’t try to think too much about a bad grade unless you want to go insane.”

A sigh was her only response and Jihoon watched as [Name] nodded at his words, shaking her head in frustration. “It’s just—I studied so hard but my mind was wandering so much that whole time and now I’m just wondering if I should even ask to re-take it or not.”

“Wandering?” Jihoon asked.

“College life would be so much easier if my family didn’t hound me every other day.” Was [Name]’s only response, making Jihoon hum. “They were asking me when I was going to visit them again, which by the way, I honestly loathe since it always ends up with me babysitting my idiot siblings.”

She shrugs, seemingly defeated as she was clearly thinking about her stressful family life. Jihoon could only watch on, thinking to himself if this was actually the girl he had butted heads with months ago.

“She just seems like she’s keeping herself busy from something and she wasn’t like this last year. Of course, you wouldn’t know because you never spoke to her.”

He nearly kicked himself right then and there as Soonyoung’s words rang through his ears. Did it really take him this long to realize that was probably why she was always pooling over her work and school, barely getting any sleep to the point of mixing things up?

She was doing it to forget about her family problems. And he might not have been a big contributor to her stress, but he was a contributor nonetheless, remembering all the times [Name] did her best to not upset him. Guilt swamped him, making him question what he should do next.

“You should ask your professor for a re-take.” He says instead. [Name] offers him a confused look. “It doesn’t hurt to be a little honest with them, you know. I think if you tell them that you’re taking care of your brothers, they’ll let you do something to save your grade.”

“But that might get in the way of work—” [Name] motions to the computer.

“Don’t worry about it.” Jihoon says. “It can wait. I definitely can wait. Just focus on studying until you make up the grade.”

“Jihoon, are you sure?” [Name] asked softly, brows turned down in a frown.

Something in Jihoon’s stomach turned from the way she said his name but he ignored it as he nodded. “Yeah.”

“Thanks. For the talk, I mean, but obviously the time off working—” Jihoon snorted as he watched [Name] stumble over her words.

“It’s no problem.” He said, swiveling himself back to his seat. “Now let me take the rest of your work time before you leave me alone.”

"You again?" Jihoon asked, narrowing his eyes as he watched [Name] enter the Love or Letter office. "I told you to take a break."

"I am on a break. I brought offerings." [Name] countered, waving the cups of coffees in her hands. Jihoon rolled his eyes.

"More like a bribe to see the plans for Love or Letter." He responds, holding up a hand when [Name] opened her mouth to counter him. "Evelyn told me you stopped by yesterday when I was away and offered her money if she says what I had planned for this week."

[Name] chewed at her lip as Jihoon stared her down sternly before she shook the cup of coffee again. "Bribe or not, it's still an offering. You look like you need it anyways."

She held the cup out to him, eyes bright as she waited for him to take it. Some part of Jihoon wanted to refuse, saying caffeine might affect him later when he works out. He didn't, though. He couldn't. Especially with the look she was giving him.

Wide eyed and hopeful that he'd accept her "offering". He didn't try to look at her as he closed his fingers around the cup, not sure if he can handle the look on [Name]'s face and a little embarrassed when his fingers brushed at her's as they handed the drink off to one another.

“Why are you here?” Jihoon asked, not willing to let up on the fact [Name] was supposed to be on her break.

She chewed at her lip again, a habit she had whenever she tried to think about an answer. And something Jihoon wasn’t sure if he should have noticed or not. He moved his eyes from her lips (though, he wasn’t sure why he struggled so hard) to her eyes, glad she wasn’t staring at him, but at the stack of confession letters on his—or her, actually—desk.

Carefully, Jihoon pushed the notes protectively to his side, shaking his head at her. Even with no words being exchanged, he could definitely tell [Name] wanted to say something.

Instead, a pause only came for a moment until [Name] offered a nervous smile. “It was to bribe Evelyn, but she’s clearly not here… But then you’re here so not really a bad thing, right?”

For some reason, he fought off the turning in his stomach at that notion. “To give me coffee?”

“Exactly.” [Name] said, smiling wider. Again, fighting off the urge of his stomach turning. “You always look like you’re about to fall into a grave; it’s getting worse since you took some of my load. I kinda feel guilty…”

“It’s not a problem.” Jihoon said dismissively, making [Name] scoff.

“You’re starting to look like me when I haven’t slept in 48 hours.” She counters in response. “You’re in your last year of college, too, so I know you barely sleep from school work anyways. Have you gone outside yet at all?”

“Yeah. To walk to work.”

[Name] rolled her eyes. “Okay, smartass, I mean what about not work related? The leaves are changing.”

“Should that mean something to me?” Jihoon asked.

“It means you’re going on a walk. With me.” [Name] said, matter of factly.

Jihoon only blinked up at her, not sure how to react. “A walk?”

“Mhm.”

“With you?”

“Yep.”

“When?”

[Name] walked around the table, ignoring the way Jihoon nearly shot out of his seat but nonetheless let her look at the time displayed on the computer. “Right now.”

Jihoon shook his head. “No way. I’m—”

“Busy?” [Name] guessed, shaking her head as she grabbed his coat from the chair and threw it at him. “Don’t care. You look dead and I feel bad since you’re doing my work at the moment. I’m taking you out.”

Jihoon felt his face heat up. Why does she have to word things so weirdly? He hadn’t much time to think about it, however, as he felt himself being pulled away from the room.

“Why?”

[Name] rolled her eyes. “So we can talk.”

“We spoke to each other on the phone yesterday. And you visit the studio when you’re not working on school.” Jihoon points out, which was all true.

Ever since he had offered to take over for [Name] while she was gone, a sort of camaraderie developed between them. They’d have conversations outside of work, though it was usually to gossip about Soonyoung’s sudden interest in a girl or [Name] telling him about Seungkwan and his rivalry with one of the other hosts for the radio station.

Not to mention, her little stints on trying to get back into the radio station to sneak in some information for weekly Love or Letter segments.

The first week, it was Jihoon who had caught her, dragging her out the building himself and telling her to study for her make-up exams (apparently, her professors loved a good sob story and it didn’t take much convincing to let her re-take them).

The second week, Soonyoung was with him when they caught sight of a blurry figure running into the Love or Letter room when no one else was there. This time, it was Soonyoung who dragged her out as [Name] and Jihoon argued on their way out the door.

It was currently the third week and Jihoon was more than surprised to see that she was the one trying to drag him out this time, though he might see why she did it; she seemed to have picked up on when someone wasn’t looking out of themselves.

“Well, we can talk more. Outside. In the fresh air.” [Name] comments and before he could think about anything else, he found himself on the side of the building, facing a population of trees.

“It’s great the radio station is near the forest, don’t you think?” [Name] said, eyes glancing up at the treeline. Jihoon only hummed, kicking at the leaves beneath their feet as they made their way toward a trail. They let themselves enjoy the environment around them, taking in the chirping birds and the cooling breeze for a while before trying to utter anything else.

Once they had reached a certain point to not see the building anymore, Jihoon finally spoke up. “You’re looking better.”

[Name] blinked at him. “You think so?” She asked, smiling.

She’s been doing that a lot. Jihoon thinks, noting how easily she offers her grins to him. Though, a lot of things have gradually changed in [Name] since she had gone on her break.

Clothes became cohesive, her demeanor was slowly becoming more like last year’s (though he wasn’t sure the spitfire attitude she harbored this year is going to leave, not that he’s complaining though—he’d rather have a co-producer who can speak up more).

She had done her hair up this time instead of keeping it down or tying it away from her face, letting more of her face become visible. Yeah, she definitely looks better. Healthier.

“That’s what you should look like all the time.” He says, regretting it immediately as soon as the words came out of his mouth. “I mean, that’s what you should look like if you actually balance your school and work life better.”

“Uh-huh.” [Name] said, though the smile never disappeared. She walked a little further ahead before saying, “I’d say you’re looking better, too, but I’d be lying. I wouldn’t have dragged you on a walk with me like this if I didn’t see how dead you were when I walked in.”

“Reading love confessions gets a little exhausting. Especially if they’re just about me.” Jihoon responds, shivering as he remembered a few not so safe for work confessions regarding him and his unwanted fangirls. “Seriously, who even has the courage to say those things to a bunch of strangers.”

“Welcome to my world.” [Name] comments blandly. “Gotta hand it to them, though; some of them are kinda creative.”

“Okay, ew.” Jihoon starts, watching [Name] laugh at his disgust. “You just say anything that comes to mind, huh?”

“As if you don’t.” [Name] responds back, elbowing his side gently. “I’m just a little less shameless about it. You, however, act like you don’t do the same thing I do. We are one in the same, Lee Jihoon, just accept it.”

Jihoon stared at the back of her head, wondering just how true that statement was. From what he’s gathered since his time working with the Love or Letter team, apparently they weren’t any different from one another when it came to working.

“It’s like nothing’s changed.” Eunwoo commented to him last week. “[Name] always sits back there and sometimes doesn’t even talk the whole time she’s with us. Similar to you.”

“Yeah, keep talking like that until you get fired.” Jian comments to him, hitting his shoulder with a folder. He offered an apologetic look to Jihoon. “He just means you both get caught up in your work a lot. Eunwoo is right, though; you do both seem like the same person when you work. It’s a wonder how you two haven’t become friends yet.”

Friends. An odd term for Jihoon whenever he thinks of that and [Name] next to it. Still, he does wonder…

“Are we friends?” He asked [Name], making her turn around. Her eyes became a little distant. Jihoon wondered if he crossed a line for a moment before he heard her hum in thought.

“I’d say a few months ago we weren’t.” [Name] admitted. “And now? I think so. We talked a lot since I went on break. We text each other a lot more now, too. Do you not?”

It was a brief flicker in her emotions, but Jihoon was sure he saw a flash of worry cross her features. He was silent for a second, looking at the fallen leaves on the ground as he kicked them out from the path. Finally he spoke. “Yeah, I think we are. If that’s how you see it.”

“I do.” [Name] said, Jihoon was a little touched at her immediate response. “Hopefully we grow closer.”

Something in Jihoon’s stomach turned again at the notion. He felt his throat dry up as he let the words echo in his head until something finally clicked in him about something. His eyes glanced over at [Name] and the way she kept her eyes trained on the changing leaves.

Well, shit.

His brain almost felt like it was exploding. Just when he asked her if they were friends too, such great timing. He did his best to ignore the nervousness crawling up him, trying to find the right words.

“Yeah.” Was all he could offer, ready to give a big sigh as he realized how lame that sounded.

[Name] didn’t seem to mind the one worded answer, giving a satisfied nod as they continued to walk the trail. “Let’s walk for another 10 minutes and then you can go ba—”

“Oh, [Name]? Jihoon?” A voice interrupts, making the two look up to see Soonyoung’s towering figure jogging up to them from the other side of the trail. The blonde was clearly out for an afternoon jog, his blonde hair covered in a cap and wearing warmer clothes. He gave an excited wave once he found himself standing in front of them. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Dragged him out for a walk.” [Name] explains plainly, watching Soonyoung cautiously. Clearly, she was well aware of his tendency to get excited.

Jihoon was the next one to speak up. “Why are you so excited?”

“Because you two are the last people I’d expect to see outside.” Soonyoung says. “Not to mention together. Alone. Not glaring at each other.”

“I’ll have you know we haven’t expressed wanting to strangle each other with our eyes in the past three weeks.” [Name] says, almost proud at the notion the two of them have had a normal interaction for so long.

Soonyoung let out a noise that could only be compared to a deflating balloon. “Sure.”

“Don’t believe us? Walk with us, then, and see.”

Just when Jihoon thought he could have some peace and quiet… Quietly, he muttered to himself, “Don’t say yes—”

“Okay! While we’re at it, let’s take a selfie…”

Working for a radio station had its perks. Due to receiving bigger funding for its popularity, the station let each segment team have their own office to work in, meaning distractions didn’t happen as often as possible.

[Name] was also allowed to work her own hours without question, meaning she could come in any time she wanted when they weren’t on air. Most times she spent her nights there, working on homework from classes and filing in any paperwork that was needed for Love or Letter.

She let out a groan as she finally pressed submit on her final comment on the discussion board, shutting off the music playing on her laptop before shuffling around to look for the papers she had to deliver to Soonyoung.

Rubbing out the exhaustion in her eyes before leaving her office, she maneuvered around the office floor as fast as she could to the host’s space, the idea of sleep already grasping at her.

[Name] let out a soft knock, waiting for Soonyoung’s tired “Come in” to signal her to open the door. She let out a laugh mixed with shock and amusement when she opened the door to see two stacks of papers on his desk. “Geez, Soonyoung… Did you wait for paperwork to pile up again?”

Soonyoung only glared at her, though she sensed no type of malice behind it, only an exhaustion she was unfortunately familiar with. His eyes shifted over at the pile in her hand. “Don’t tell me that’s more paperwork I need to look at.”

“Yeah…” [Name] said, waving the thick wad of paper in her hand as she placed it onto the corner of her desk. Something tells her Soonyoung wasn’t going to be able to look at it for a while. “I feel a little behind on work even though Jihoon covered for me.”

“So that means you make me have more paperwork?” Soonyoung cried out, offering an exaggerated cry.

[Name] rolled her eyes. “Oh, relax. You just have to sign it.”

Still, she watched as Soonyoung let out a tired groan, collapsing his head onto his desk in annoyance. “Why did I wait to push all my work? I could’ve done so much more fun stuff on a Friday night…”

“What, like go on a date with a certain someone?” [Name] jibed, covering her mouth as she remembered Jihoon swore her to secrecy about Soonyoung’s love life.

Picking his head up, Soonyoung glared at her. “Where did you hear that?”

“Um…” [Name] started, shifting to get ready to leave.

She was more than glad to not come near it, however, as it swung open so fast, it made the both of them jump. Their heads snapped over to see a panicked looking intern, eyes wild with adrenaline. A piece of paper crumpled in his hand, he shook it in front of the two as he tried to catch his breath.

“Jihoon… Papers… Important… Sign!”

Soonyoung set his pen down, standing up to help the new worker onto his couch while [Name] took the paper in his hand to see it had been an approval request form that was due tomorrow morning.

She handed it off to Soonyung once he stood back up, eye straining to read the paper. “Damn, so much for trying to finish as much paperwork as possible. Why wasn’t this given to him when he was still here?”

“No one saw it until now.” The intern explained. “We tried calling and messaging him, but he won’t respond.”

Soonyoung hummed, as if knowing what he was going to say. “Yeah that sounds like him. Once he’s out of the office he doesn’t respond to work calls unless we find him personally.”

“Yikes.” [Name] muttered. “Well, we kinda need this approval form turned in, though. Any chance you know where he is?”

“Either eating somewhere or at the gym. I dragged him to lunch with me so I’m assuming he’s probably at the gym.” Soonyoung explained. He walked away with the paper. “I’ll just find him and give it to him to sign.”

[Name] watched as he heaved himself onto his seat, clearly too tired to even kick the intern out of the office. He leaned his head onto his hand, picking up where he left off, hardly letting himself breath as his eyes scanned through the papers faster than the last time.

She sighed, offering her hand out. “It’s fine. I can find him before I go home and have him sign the paper. I’ll take it back with me to the station since I come in tomorrow.”

She cast a concerned stare at the intern on the couch, then back to Soonyoung who waved a hand her way, as if to say he’ll take care of him. [Name] was more than happy to offer a nod, not wanting to take care of whatever might come from dealing with him.

By the time [Name] was out of the building, Soonyoung had already texted her the location of the gym with the words “don’t scare him” written right after it. [Name] could only wonder what possessed him to send the last comment but didn’t think much of it as she found the campus gym illuminating in the dark.

She offered a polite greeting to one of the student workers, ignoring the way they stared at her, mouths agape. She could only assume it was because of the way she was dressed—a long coat and a tote bag that looked ready to burst any minute, nothing near gym clothes—as she walked around to look for the producer.

Surprisingly, the gym was close to silent, despite the large population of students in attendance, the music faintly playing in the background as the clinking of metal was the only disruption. Still, she did her best to keep her head low as she peeked around large contraptions that she would have assumed were death traps if it was outside.

She nearly gave up until she spotted a familiar black hat and red watch. [Name] was quick in her steps, careful to not run into anyone as she made her way to Jihoon, who had his head leaning down on his phone.

[Name] opened her mouth, ready to call his name out but choked up when she caught sight of him. Usually he wore the same clothes he was wearing now: black shirt with black pants, and black shoes with the same black hat that covered his head.

A clear indication he either came back from the gym or his intention was to go to the gym after he finished his tasks at the radio station. She was never close enough before but now she was seeing him and was he always built like some body builder?

[Name]’s mind could only immediately go to a certain celebrity known for having the same build as she fought off the thought. Composing herself, she walked over machines, offering polite “excuse me’s” to anyone she passed by and giving polite smiles to anyone who looked at her.

It was clear he couldn’t hear her, his earbuds tucked and volume probably louder than she could bear to think of as he kept his head ducked down on his phone. He only looked up when his eyes made contact with her shoes.

Jihoon blinked up at [Name], almost frozen in his spot. “What are you doing here?” He asked, making [Name] snicker.

Straight to the point, like always. “I wanted to work out with you.” She jokes as she fishes out for the papers, taking note of the fluttering in her stomach when she heard the small huff he let out in amusement. “One of your interns barged into Soonyoung’s office saying you needed to sign this. I was on my way out and I told them I’d look for you to sign them.”

"You could’ve just waited, you know.” Jihoon informed, taking the papers to sign anyways. [Name]’s eyes widened as she made eye contact with his arm, which looked like the size of her head from the way he leaned down on it to sign the paperwork. Hercules. He looked like Hercules.

As if sensing her, Jihoon glanced up from the rim of his hat, only spotting the swivel of [Name]’s head to a random spot at the gym.

Was she just…? Jihoon frowned for a moment, mouth opening slightly then closing it. How was someone supposed to ask their work enemy turned friend if they were checking him out? He wasn’t sure he needed to ask anything if his thinking was correct.

He leaned back down, signing the final page and coughing to catch [Name]’s attention. Jihoon offered [Name] an amused smile as he watched her turn back to him in cartoonish panic, seemingly doing her best to keep her eyes glued on the paper and not him.

“Thanks.” [Name] responds stiffly, stuffing the papers back into her bag before straightening up. She felt a sense of welcoming dread fall in her as she realized Jihoon had watched her haphazardly shoving papers into her bag.“Well, uh… Happy lifting?”

She gripped her bag, giving a bow so fast that she nearly fell over, waving Jihoon’s hands away when they reached out to steady her as she regained her balance. [Name] hadn’t made it far, only about three steps away when she felt a jolt shoot through her as Jihoon stopped her, hand reaching out to grab her wrist.

Jihoon felt something bubble in his stomach as [Name] looked over at him, eyes wide in confusion as he kept his hand on her wrist a little too long. He was quick to let go, doing his best to not focus on how doe eyed [Name] looked as she turned herself toward him.

“Are you heading home?” He asked, watching [Name] offer a slow nod. Jihoon didn’t need to hear anymore as he lifted himself off his seat. “I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t have to—” [Name] started, only stopping when Jihoon interrupted her, taking off his hat and shaking out his messy hair. When was the last time she saw him not wearing a cap? Usually he keeps them on so his hair wouldn’t get in the way during work. She felt like she was seeing something scandalous, even if it was just his hair.

“I don’t feel comfortable knowing you’re walking home alone in the dark.” Jihoon said, essentially cutting off any argument she had ready. He logged 15 minutes into his watch, the other days indicating 60 or more, mocking him for not finishing his usual work out schedule. He was quick to exit, however, when [Name] shuffled herself a little closer to him as he made his way away from the machines. “I was already finishing my workout anyway. Just wait by the door while I get my stuff.”

He walked away to the locker rooms, ignoring the feeling of [Name]’s eyes on him. He packed quickly, only bothering to change into his sweatpants and shoving all his materials into his bag haphazardly before exiting.

[Name] had been standing by the door patiently, hands clasped in front of her as she rocked on the balls of her feet. Relief washed over Jihoon, glad that [Name] hadn't actually left like he initially thought she would.

Words didn't need to be spoken as they walked out the gym together, Jihoon opening the door for her to exit first, smiling slightly as he watched her face wrinkle at the biting wind. [Name] kept herself moving forward, leading the way to her home.

Jihoon listened intently to the crunch of the leaves underneath his feet while [Name] did her best to kick them away as they walked quietly along the sidewalk. A sense of nervousness bit at her, a little afraid why Jihoon was so quiet.

Their newfound friendship was built on a basis of quiet understanding since the day she dragged him to go on a walk with her. Neither of them had to speak to one another during meetings to know what the other was thinking now. A single glance at each other gave them the ample opportunity to understand if something was a yes or no.

It seemed quite the opposite right now, however. An unexplainable paranoia followed her as she eyed Jihoon, who looked as if he wanted to say something but wouldn’t.

Sick of the awkward silence, [Name] decided to speak up. “Have you seen Soonyoung’s post?”

Jihoon groaned, rolling his eyes. “Don’t even remind me…”

She let out a quiet snicker, watching his ears burn red in embarrassment, [Name] recalling the post.

hosh_soonie: unexpected guests on my run!!!

His arms had been spread out in the picture, head thrown at the clouds as if screaming into the sky. [Name] and Jihoon right behind him and watching in amused judgment. Neither had thought nothing of it, assuming all the focus would be on their eccentric friend.

A quick look at the comments had proven otherwise, however.

dj_boo: two house cats and a hamster

imdeekay: best producers!

0_tkm_0: pd jihoon looks so good here

notjiyeul: JUST A MOMENT IF YOUR TIME SIR 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

.kimgi: his dimples omg

user087261846: who s the girk next to him?

[Name] had never brought it up, feeling a bit embarrassed herself as she read a few of the comments asking about her and hoping it had died down until someone had came up to her a few days ago in class.

“You know that guy you were standing next to in Hoshi’s picture?”

“Jihoon?”

“Yeah, do you know if he’s… Um, single?”

The people pleaser she was, [Name] had agreed to ask him next time she saw him, despite the sinking feeling in her stomach when she had agreed to pair them up together. She continued to ignore it as she spared a glance at him. “You seem like you’re getting popular again, though…”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well I’m not too sure I like the attention.”

“Really?” She asked, elbowing his side gently. They had made it to the crosswalk that was leading to her apartment. A car slowly turned into the same street, making Jihoon maneuver to her other side when they had crossed. “Some girls have been asking me if you’re single or not. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

“Sure, I guess.” Jihoon responds, ruffling his hair and looking lost in thought. “I’d rather have as much privacy as possible. I’d be more confident without a bunch of eyes on me.”

“Ah,” [Name] hums, a settled agreement coming between them. With such a popular segment like Love or Letter and dealing with the radio station as a whole, [Name] wouldn’t put it past Jihoon to want to have some semblance in his life. “Well, you’ve been doing great at work so if you’re feeling pressure there, don’t stress about it.”

“Well yeah.” Jihoon said, matter-of-factly, mouth gaping open for a moment as he let out an awkward cough. “It’d also be good to have more confidence so I could’ve asked you out sooner.”

Pause. [Name] felt like the wind was just knocked out of her as she registered his words, head whipping toward him. “Huh?”

“I, uh…” Jihoon faded off, eyes darting left and right as he stopped, facing [Name]. “Wanted to ask you out? Like on a date somewhere this weekend…” He analyzed her face, trying to understand her reaction as he continued to ramble on. “Or not? If you don’t see me that way. Or if its too awk—”

“Jihoon I’d like that.” [Name] suddenly scrambled out, unable to control herself when a smile settled on her face.

“Right.” Jihoon said, face burning as he looked at [Name], her face tinting a shade probably similar to his but he definitely didn’t look as cute. “Cool. I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

[Name] nodded, suddenly remembering they had been walking to her apartment. She turned to the stairs, ready to walk up as she said, “Yeah, tomorrow. And this weekend.”

Jihoon laughed, walking backwards as he watched [Name] make her way to her door. “Yeah, this weekend too.”

An urge suddenly seemed to stop her as she noticed him turn around, however, making [Name] go back down the stairs of her townhouse and jogged back up to him. “Jihoon, wait!”

“Yeah?” Jihoon asked, feeling [Name]’s hands reach for the side of his face and bring his lips to her’s. The suddenness of their closeness made Jihoon grab her waist to balance himself as he finally registered that they were kissing. It was short and [Name] was running out of breath from her jog, making her pull away too early for Jihoon’s liking.

“This weekend.” She breathes against his lips, Jihoon squeezing her waist as he feels her soft breath brush his cheek. He only nods, making [Name] pull away and run back to her apartment, scrambling to grab her items as she finally disappeared through her door, the last thing he commits to memory for the night the feeling of her smile against his as he walked home.

210 notes · View notes

elasticitymudflap · 5 months

Note

you think your boy Simon is gonna come back for season 2 or is he all arced out?

LISTEN *GRIPS U* SORRY IM ALL CAPS IM JUST BEING VERY NORMAL RN

SEASON 1 WAS BASICALLY ABOUT GETTING HIM TO THE POINT WHERE HE WAS SIMPLY NO LONGER LOOKING FOR AN EXCUSE TO THROW HIS LIFE AWAY, AND RECOGNIZING/NOT ROMANTICIZING THE CONCEPT OF SACRIFICE IN HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH BETTY BECAUSE OF HOW DISPROPORTIONALLY SHE SACRIFICED HERSELF FOR HIM IN WAYS HE WASN'T COGNIZANT OF.

IMHO:

SEASON 1 BARELY TOUCHED UPON ADDRESSING OR WORKING THROUGH HIS ICE KING TRAUMA. THIS IS MY FIRST MAIN THING I NEED THEM TO TOUCH UPON.

IT CONCERNS ME THAT SIMON DIDN'T EVEN COMPLETELY CONNECT THE DOTS IN THAT ALL THE CRAP WORLDS THEY WENT TO WERE HINGING ON WHO HE IS AND THE IMPACT HIS LOVE AND SACRIFICE (OR THE LACK THEREOF) HAD ON THE WORLD (DID SORT OF FOR A MOMENT IN THE STAR BUT NOT NEARLY ENOUGH IMO)

HE'S OBVIOUSLY STILL PROCESSING HIS YEARS TAKING CARE OF MARCY IN THE APOCALYPSE???? THERE WAS NO FOLLOW-UP WITH HER PHONECALL EVEN IN THE FINAL MONTAGE???? WHAT HAPPENED IN OOO WHEN HE DISAPPEARED??? THESE TWO NEED TO FUCKING TALK FOR REAL

WHAT DOES SIMON'S LIFE LOOK LIKE WHEN HE'S NO LONGER AN EXHIBIT?? HOW THE HELL DID HE BECOME/CONSENT TO BECOMING AN EXHIBIT IN THE FIRST PLACE I MEAN WHAT THE FUCK?? HOW DID HIS LIFE CHANGE SO DRASTICALLY (OR DID IT NOT) FROM OBSIDIAN??

THE MORAL OF "MAYBE WE SHOULD HAVE GONE ON THAT TRIP TO AUSTRALIA INSTEAD / WHO KNOWS WHAT LIFE WOULD HAVE BEEN LIKE" IS SO BAD FOR HIM TO END CONCLUSIVELY ON AFTER EVERYTHING WE'VE SEEN BECAUSE THE WORLD STILL FUCKING ENDED??? MAYBE HE FOUND THE CROWN, MAYBE HE DIDN'T, BUT EITHER WAY FROM WHAT WE SAW IN THE ALT WORLDS IT WAS ALL GOING TO END IN TRAGEDY AND MAYBE THIS IS THE ONLY WORLD WHERE WE GET A BITTERSWEET END INSTEAD OF A HELL WORLD THANKS TO THEIR DESICIONS??? IDK!!!!!! I'D LIKE TO EXPLORE THAT CONCEPT I THINK

THE UNIVERSE IS OUT OF HIS NOODLE, BUT DOES SIMON'S HEAD-PORTAL STILL WORK?? CAN HE CONNECT TO FIONNA WORLD IF HE'S IN HIGHLY CHARGED MAGICAL ENVIRONMENTS??? ACTUALLY, WHAT THE HELL ARE THE LONG TERM EFFECTS OF A HUMAN HAVING A UNIVERSE IN HIS DANG HEAD

HE'S CONNECTING WITH ASTRID NOW AND SEEMS TO BE ON MUCH BETTER TERMS, IS SHE GOING TO INSPIRE HIM TO START WRITING FIONNA AND CAKE STORIES AGAIN TO COPE IN A HEALTHY WAY WITH HIS PAST THIS TIME??

SIMON'S RELATIONSHIP WITH ICE THING???

SIMON'S HUMAN PAST IN GENERAL: WHY IS THIS DUDE THE WAY HE IS??? WHY DID HE BELIEVE THE THINGS HE DID, STUDY THEM, MAKE THEM THE THINGS HE HINGED HIS LIFE AND CAREER ON???

ON THAT NOTE: FLASHBACKS. MOTHER FUCKING FLASHBACKS. MORE OF HIS ADVENTURES WITH BETTY. WE ACTUALLY SEE SO LITTLE OF WHAT THEY WERE LIKE TOGETHER WHEN ACTUALLY HAPPY, HUMAN, AND IN A RELATIONSHIP TOGETHER, IN THEIR ELEMENT, AND NOT STRICKEN WITH LIFE-OR-DEATH DESICION MAKING EXCEPT FOR HIS DUMB ASS GETTING BRAINED BY A CHERRY JAR

HIS YEARNING TO FIND BETTY AND APOLOGIZE TO HER WAS "TECHNICALLY" HANDLED IN THE SHOW, BUT YOU CAN NOT TELL ME THIS DUDE DOESN'T HAVE LASTING ISSUES AND TRAUMA AROUND THAT. ABOUT THE FIRST TIME HE PUT ON THE CROWN AND BETTY DISAPPEARING FOREVER. ABOUT THE GUILT AND FEAR ABOUT HER BEING DEAD DURING THE WAR. ABOUT LIVING NINE FUCKING HUMAN LIFETIMES IN A HAZE WHERE ALL HE KNEW WAS HE HURT THE PERSON HE LOVED MOST AND HE JUST NEEDED TO FIND HER. IT BECAME AN INTEGRAL PART OF ICE KING'S CHARACTER, HIS MOST DEFINING TRAIT STRIPPED TO THE STUDS. HE HELD ONTO THAT LAST PIECE OF SIMON PETRIKOV SOME HOW UNTIL SO MUCH TIME HAD PASSED HIS ONLY HOPE TO EVER FIND HER AGAIN WAS TO USE TIME TRAVEL. I'D LIKE SOME MORE OF THAT, IF YOU PLEASE.

HOW IS HE ACTUALLY COPING POST-SEASON 1? WHAT ARE HIS THOUGHTS ON ALL THE WORLDS THEY VISITED, THE THINGS THAT HAPPENED TO HIM, THE IMPLICATIONS, HIS INTERPRETATIONS? HE MAY BE IN THERAPY BUT HE'S STILL DRINKING.

ANYWAY

122 notes · View notes

skyloftian-nutcase · 8 days

Note

Aight Rusl and Fierce need to FORCE Abel to sleep that man is SUFFERING

Rusl glanced at Abel as the latter set up a fire for the night. When the Fierce Deity walked up beside him, the Ordonian could sense the mythical being’s eyes on him.

“It’s Abel,” Rusl said quietly. “I don’t think he’s sleeping.”

“Perhaps his increased irritability gave it away,” Fierce intoned with just enough sincerity to almost make Rusl think he was being genuine. When he shot the deity a quizzical look, Fierce flicked his eyebrows with enough sass that it made the resistance member laugh.

“Look at you, knowing what sarcasm is,” Rusl chuckled. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“There usually seems to be enough coming from our knight to make up for it,” Fierce sighed. “I must admit, though, he does seem far more exhausted.”

“I doubt he’s been sleeping well,” Rusl noted, crossing his arms. “You’ve been keeping watch, has he been sleeping?”

“On and off,” Fierce answered. “It’s unclear if that’s his usual habit. I didn’t comment on it before as a result.”

“Exactly how much sleep do you think mortals need?” Rusl asked, finally curious enough to push the matter.

“Based on the little hero, around four hours.” The deity watched Rusl’s expression shift, and the reaction made him almost nervous as he fidgeted in place. “Is that incorrect?”

“We usually need seven to eight,” Rusl corrected. “Children usually need more. Your boy only sleeps four at a time?”

Fierce’s eyes narrowed as he turned his head slightly, seeming to be looking at nothing. “I knew that child was doing it wrong.”

“More to the point, is that how much Abel is sleeping?” Rusl pressed. They could address the other issue later.

“Oh no,” Fierce answered easily. “Far less than that.”

Rusl groaned, rubbing his forehead as a headache developed. “Well we have to make him sleep someho—Fierce, wait!”

The deity didn’t listen, picking Abel up by his tunic as the man spluttered in protest.

“What are you—”

“It’s time for you to rest.”

“Put me down—”

Rusl sighed heavily. This was going to be a long night.

#you ask skye answers #lovely smiles #Dad Squad #writing #they’re trying their best

65 notes · View notes

s1ckh1mb0 · 29 days

Text

Toji is your daughter’s dad. You two had separated a while ago due to conflicting schedules in your work and you feeling that he wasn’t listening to you enough. Both of you were on very good terms even talking without the conversation being about your child. Imagine your surprise when you both get called to your child’s school saying you need to come to the principals office asap.

Reader is a tattoo artist!

You were surprised when your assistant said you had a call in the middle of my tattoo. You brought the phone up to your ear as you continued to work on your client. “can I help you?”

Toji’s voice crackled over the phone* “Oh um, hey..” It was clearly hard for him to find it in him to talk to you, and he sounded like he was forcing himself to talk to you. His tone sounded a bit annoyed like he was forcing himself to talk to you.

“Jiji? What’s up, I’m at the shop right now? Did you need something?”

There was a long pause. It was clear he wanted to say something but didn’t quite know how to broach the subject. Finally, he forced the words out of his mouth “There’s something going on with our kid, and I wanted to tell you.”

You stopped my tattoo and your face hardened: “what’s wrong with Lyla? Is she okay? Do I need to leave?”

Toji tried to soften his tone with a laugh, though it didn’t seem to take well. He knew you were probably more than a little upset that something was wrong with Lys, your one and only child. He did his best to be calm and reassuring like he had always been on the phone with you. “No, no no... Lylas fine... But... There’s something going on at school with her that we need to address.”

“Dios Mio, yeah fuck okay im on my way.”

Toji chuckled lightly at your reply knowing it was probably something you had said over and over again, even at home with Lys. He liked this about you, your consistency with certain phrases, it was oddly charming. “Okay, I’ll see you soon.” He quickly replies back to you, his tone sounding a bit sheepish when it came to your quick reply.

You hung up and headed out to my car. Within 15 minutes you arrived at the school. You took off your ink covered hoodie leaving you in just a black tee and black jeans( you can change this). You grabbed your phone and wallet and made your way inside the school.

Inside the principals office was toji sat with his legs crossed staring out the window watching the world go by. When you walked in he looked up and met your gaze. His face quickly softened when he met your eyes. Your beauty always made him weak. You had been the most gorgeous person to exist in his eyes and your looks only seemed to grow exponentially.

“What’s going on?” You asked while walking over Ony was sitting with you guys daughter Lyla in front of the principal. You came behind Lyla and kissed her forehead. “you okay baby?”

Toji eyes widened slightly seeing the ease of your interactions with Lyla. This was something he noticed about you when she was younger, your ease with showing your affection to her was something he had never been able to do so naturally. Your love for her had always been apparent in the way she responded to you and the way you responded back. The principal spoke up interrupting your interaction. “I need you both to sit down.

You nodded and sat in the seat next to Toji. “right so what happened exactly?”

Before the principal could respond Toji interrupted. he was angry and he wanted to say something. It seemed like he was trying to defend Lyla. He was always protective of her, especially with the two of you having divorced and her being left with only one parent for the majority of her life. “Whatever it is that may be going on our daughter is not and will not be at fault and I will not tolerate any attempt to frame her as such. So either tell me right now what exactly is the issue or we’ll be leaving.”

“Toji relax, we Atleast need to know what happened. Please, continue.”

Toji glanced at the principal before looking back at you. He saw the concern in your eyes and knew that he had to let the principal speak. The principal cleared the throat. “Your child has allegedly been seen kissing a male student in the restrooms. It was claimed to have been a few times.”

“Kissing a boy?” You turned your head to face your daughter. “ly is this true?”

Lys looked up from her lap and gave you a nod, a look of embarrassment and shame plastered on her face as if you were the last person she thought she would be admitting this to.

You sighed and turned back around. “Well is there a punishment or anything or can we just take her home?”

The principals face softened when she spoke. She clearly was trying to put Lyla at ease by being the gentlelest she could be with the situation. “Unfortunately, it is against school policy to partake in any acts of... Intimacy or affection here so your daughter will have to have a weeks suspension for her actions.”

“Right, we’ll have a talk with her. I apologize for this mess.”

The principal shrugged slightly while a small, sympathetic smile crossed her face. She gave you both a nod and a brief goodbye before excusing herself to her office. Once she walked out of the room and toji turned to you once more. You could see his anger still slightly lingering beneath the surface, though your gaze seemed to have calmed him down somewhat.

You led Lyla out with toji behind you. Once y’all left you couldn’t help but chuckle, wrapping your arm around Lyla’s shoulder* “so kissing a boy huh?”

Lys felt her heartbeat quicken. She could feel herself slightly overheating as she blushed hard. She looked around you at the ground hoping to avoid your gaze for as long as she could. She was so embarrassed to admit the truth to you.* “Y.. Yeah...” Her voice was barely above a whisper and she was afraid to raise it a decibel for fear you might punish her for what she had done.

“You and this boy dating?”

Lys was so embarrassed by you calling out the truth that her face had only gotten redder. She could feel her heartbeat pounding heavily in her chest, but she couldn’t look away from you to avoid the question. “Y-yeah... His name is Max...” She answered while still gazing at the floor.

“Lyla you have a boyfriend now, you should have told us this is great news! isn’t this great ony, our little girls growing up.” i chuckled as we exited the school.

Lys couldn’t help but feel her lips curl into a wide smile. She was so glad that you had reacted so positively to her revelation, it had been weighing heavily on her mind for a while now how her dating might be taken by you and toji. Though, she was surprised by Tojis lack of participation in the celebration. She had expected him to at least chime in some words of encouragement for her, however, he had remained completely silent through your comment.

“Don’t worry about him I’ll talk to him later.” You whispered to her. “so tell us about this max boy.” You said happily as y’all made you guys way through the parking lot and into your car.

Lys’s expression immediately warmed, she was so thankful that you were willing to let tojis demeanor slide for the good news of her dating. She looked up at you with the excitement of a child and answered the question with glee. “Oh! He’s so handsome, he’s also really sweet and kind. And... He just made me feel really safe and happy.” Lys began blushing again, it was obvious she quite liked him a lot.

“Aww how sweet. How long have you two been secretly dating? I do wish you would have told us though, this is huge news, your first boyfriend. Atleast im hoping.”

*Lys gave you a quick smile when you brought up the subject of it seeming like you were hoping he’d be her first. She laughed and nodded her head to confirm your thought* “Yeah, he’s my first boyfriend... We’ve been secretly dating for about 5 months. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know how you’d react or if I should have even been dating while in high school.”

“You’re sixteen it’s about time you started dating.” I pulled up to the house and parked the car. “Lyla go ahead in the house im gonna talk to your dad real quick.”

Lys nodded and ran into the house, shutting the door behind her. Once she was gone you and Toji shared a brief moment of silence before toji finally decided to speak to you once more. You could see anger still lingering on his face even though his tone remained calm “I cannot believe you didn’t yell at her for doing this.”

“It was just kissing. It’s not anything serious in my opinion.”

*That comment only served to annoy Onya further. He saw you completely brushing aside the kissing situation as if it were nothing, something he couldn’t understand. He was trying to be calm, really he was, but he found it incredibly hard to do so with the way you felt on the situation* “How can you not care that she was doing this under our noses?”

“She’s sixteen and she was kissing her boyfriend, kissing is just something small. Yes I get she shouldn’t have done it in school and I am upset she hid it but ony you’re not the easiest person to come to with those types of things. I’m just glad she wasnt doing something extreme.

Toji hated hearing what you had to say. It made him feel like he wasn’t a good father and hurt his pride. Your words got a rise out of him, and he was starting to get more and more upset the longer you spoke. “But to keep something like that a secret from the both of us? She’s been sneaking around behind our backs for weeks.”

“Which I can understand you’re upset about. We just need to set boundaries with her about this and her little relationship she has now.”

Toji paused, the words you spoke made him think for a while. He hated that you were right for the most part. You were right, her kissing Max was nowhere near as bad as she could’ve been doing, and setting a clear boundary was a great first step to handling the situation. However, there was still one issue that bugged him in all of this. “Do you not feel a bit betrayed that she would keep something like this from us? I feel as though the both of us aren’t as close to her as I thought.”

“She’s young Jiji and if I remember correctly she’s doing the exact same thing me and you did when we were together at first. All kids hide stuff, don’t take it personally.”

*Your words caught him off guard. The fact that she was doing the exact same thing that you both had done when you were younger was something he hadn't considered. She was a teenager and of course teenagers were going to be a bit secretive with their parents. Your words helped him calm down and not take it so personally. He looked back to you with a more relaxed expression.* “I guess you’re right. I just... I don’t know..."

You rubbed his arm to soothe him. “she’s gonna keep secrets from us but she still does come to us most of the time. She’s just figuring things out as she grows up. That doesn’t mean she won’t need you Jiji. You’re getting in your head.” Even if you weren’t together anymore you still helped toji whenever he struggled mentally. He had a bad past but he was good to you and your daughter. And you was always going to be good to him.

Tojis eyes softened when you rubbed his arm. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. You had always been there to support him, even after all this time. He could always appreciate how much you were there for him even after the divorce. The words you spoke to him made him feel better about himself as if he wasn’t as bad a father as he thought he was. He opened his eyes and stared into those pretty brown eyes of yours once more. “Thank you...”

You smiled softly as my gaze met his. “always.”

Maybe he would be able to come around..

141 notes · View notes

1d1195 · 9 months

Text

Protection II

This is mostly the getting to know the reader and part. I hope you enjoy. 7.5k+

This is where I'll put the rest of the series: Protection

P.S. Sorry, I have some bad daddy issues that are going to be addressed in this series.

“Okay,” she nodded in promise. “Thank you,” she said seriously. She honestly hoped he sensed the authenticity of her gratitude. Harry was the first person to treat her like a human. Even if she gave him a hard time more often than not.

If she wasn’t careful, she was really going to fall in love with him.

There was just over three weeks between the end of her summer course and the fall semester. She planned on spending almost the entire time she wasn’t working either out in the sun reading or sleeping. Her final year was going to be difficult to say the least and she needed to be rested for the first days of the semester.

Her friends didn’t really chat with her during these weeks. She was used to it. Part of her believed they didn’t really want her to be around during their regularly scheduled class times either. It was why she fought so vehemently with her detail. There was so much drama surrounding her with just the presence of her security following her around.

The poor thing couldn’t sleep in all that much due to her constantly spinning mind and busy schedule with work and other obligations she put upon herself. Waking up at 8AM was about as late as she could stand it. At that time, and to beat the humidity, she hurried to shove her feet in sneakers and twist her hair up and off the back of her neck. She jogged a bit, stopping way more than she should have to walk at a clipped pace. Harry was warned of this and came prepared following behind her with so much ease. If weren’t for the heat, she was convinced he wouldn’t have broken a sweat. He didn’t speak to her while she listened to her music and didn’t make any comments about her need to walk so frequently, which she thought was kind. She imagined the rest of the detail thought she shouldn’t have had pizza on any regular schedule or said she was out of shape.

After a good head clearing, she would head back to shower and relax her muscles. It was the most calming time she had without any reminder of her detail’s presence. The one and only place they let her be alone completely. Coming back out to the living room she found Harry, ever present seated at his laptop situated on her dining table. Her hair was damp from being towel-dried and her skin felt fresh. She flopped onto the couch. Harry was silent, paying no focused attention to her. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him. Harry per usual, didn’t appear all that sweaty, but she couldn’t imagine having to sit in his sweat all day long while watching her and it was particularly hot and humid this morning. Especially when she had the luxury of hosing herself down. “Do you want to shower?” She asked.

He glanced at her. It wasn’t a terrible request. He hated to feel the thin sheen of sweat over his body—he didn’t think he smelled bad, but he thought he might smell like sweat. It seemed entirely unprofessional—it wasn’t covered in his training that he couldn’t shower at her apartment, but it seemed like something he should steer clear of. He could always call another agent while he headed back to his place—just ten minutes from hers. He could be back on the inside of an hour. “Uh...yeah, if y’don’t mind. I’ll jus’ call some—”

“You can shower here,” she shrugged setting up a playlist to play through her TV speaker. “I have more than one towel, obviously.”

Harry thought her sarcastic bite was funny and not dreadful like the rest of the team made it out to be. He smirked. “Uh...I don’t really want t’leave—”

She rolled her eyes and picked up her book. “I pinky promise, cross my heart, swear on my mother’s grave I won’t leave this apartment until you’re dressed and able to chase me efficiently,” she mumbled flipping to the bookmarked page. “Honestly might fall right back to sleep anyway,” she muttered. “Towels are in the linen closet,” her tone was dismissive. The ball was in Harry’s court.

Harry didn’t really want to piss her off; part of him thought that if she remained happy maybe she wouldn’t give him such a hard time. He wasn’t kidding when he told her he hated paperwork and despite how...different she seemed than the stories he heard, he wasn’t going to take his chances. Closing his laptop and he made his way by the couch toward the hall to the bathroom. He stopped in the threshold briefly and gazed at the girl snuggled on the couch who didn’t look like she’d be moving for hours. “Please,” he eyed her cautiously. “Don’t leave,” he said it gently, the slight begging tone in his voice.

She glanced up at his serious, pleading expression. Part of her forgot he was all but her enemy. His voice, his face, his body... he was so lovely. He was adorable. But she couldn’t let him know she thought that. She instead returned her gaze to her book, unable to comprehend the words fully in her brain to make sense due to the depth of green she was seeing in Harry’s eyes. She briefly pressed two fingers to her temple and saluted him without meeting his eyes. “Sure thing, boss.”

Harry still took the fastest shower he’d ever taken, still a bit worried about her leaving. However, when he returned to the main room, there she was reading. Snuggled up cutely on her sofa and listening to the gentle music playing as she did. She really wasn’t as bad as they made her out to be. Or maybe he just hadn’t really seen that side of her yet. But either way, he was glad she was kind for now.

“How’s it going?” Niall asked on Harry’s first day off in over a week. While they really didn’t speak a whole lot, he actually felt a little bad not seeing her. So much so, he left her a note saying to just text him if she needed something—and to not give the relief detail a too much of a fight.

“She’s not that bad,” Harry shrugged.

“No way,” Niall was in disbelief. He actually paused mid sip, spitting his drink back into the glass. “I can’t believe the close in age thing worked,” he shook his head. “I should have thought of this years ago.”

Harry shrugged again. “All she does is sleep,” it was true. She slept a good eight hours each day over the last week. In addition, he only glanced up from his computer when her book fell to the ground, and she was fast asleep in her mid-afternoon nap. Harry found his job quite cushy. Especially because he thought she was quite cute when she slept.

“She doesn’t escape?”

“If she did, she’s a lot better than anyone told me she would be. I’ve never noticed. So, I don’t think so. I caught her the first day trying t’sneak t’meet her friends at the pub. S’only because the detail outside saw her on the fire escape. Think they were honestly hazing me a bit,” he shrugged. “M’first day and all...but she hasn’t tried anything since.”

The surprise was still evident from Niall. “You like her?” He asked; he was incredulous.

Harry shrugged once more then nodded. “Yeah...she’s...fun,” he shrugged. “She’s really polite.”

“I don’t think anyone has ever said that about her.”

Harry found he was a bit irritated with his friend. Niall wasn’t one to talk poorly of someone else almost ever so his sudden remarks of the girl made him annoyed. So why was he so negative about her? “Have y’ever even met her, Niall?” Harry asked. The bite in his tone rivaled the one that she would give Harry.

He shook his head. “No, but I’ve seen the paperwork,” he whistled almost in appreciation. “She’s...”

“She’s actually really smart. Funny. Kind,” Harry interrupted.

Niall blinked surprised by Harry’s defense for the girl. “Sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean to...I’m sorry. Just...you hear some stories.”

Harry tried to push the girl from his mind. Maybe it would be different when she was back in school. Maybe it wouldn’t. But regardless, he didn’t think it was very nice of the entire department to write her off. He focused on Niall and their lunch at a local restaurant.

His phone vibrated with a message from her. He waited until Niall was engrossed in the game on the screen above their table. Never thought I’d say this about one of my bodyguards...but I can’t wait for you to be back. These people are awful to me :(

It was hard to ignore the flutter of his heart. Treat them with kindness, love. He reminded her.

Feel like they should be kind to me first...

:( He sort of agreed with her. Even if she was a pain in his butt in her own special way, he didn’t think she deserved unkindness. It was about a half hour without a response message from her and Harry realized he was a bit...anxious waiting for her name to flash across the screen. It was dicey of him—it was also silly of him to expect a message in response to a frowny face. Maybe the deepest part of his subconscious knew before the rest of him that he shouldn’t be sending her messages for a very specific reason—especially ones regarding her hatred of the other members of her security detail.

Still...he was the only one she seemed to like...and he was The Department’s last hope.

I’ll be back tomorrow, love. He said finally. He wanted to chat with her more. Six days in a row with her and he was already aching for more time with her.

Thank God. Her answer was immediate. Followed by a second one. Can we get burritos?

Sure thing :)

She still drove him insane. She was practically mindless as she marched down the road ahead of him when she ran errands. Nearly stumbling into traffic. It was almost as if she had a death wish.

“For the love of God, would you jus’ tell me,” he snapped at her when she once more forgot to tell him where she was going...even if it was just to get the package she ordered from the main lobby but she left without a word. Caught him a bit off-guard as he jumped up from his typical seat at her dining table, rushing to catch her before she got too far.

Honestly, he couldn’t imagine telling all but a stranger his every movement. It had to be difficult for her. But it still pissed him off. Especially when she smirked at him when he snapped at her. Like a child in trouble who knew she was in trouble. It really infuriated him when she did that.

When she met with her friends, Harry sat by the bar nursing a glass of water. He flashed his credentials to the bartender who gave him a stiff nod, not worrying about his lack of alcohol or why he was intently watching the girl across the room. Harry had to strain to hear anything of importance but for the most part it was harmless.

Boys would come talk to her and Harry couldn’t help but think they were so out of their league. The confidence they exuded was hilariously misplaced, so he thought. She was pretty. Even if she was annoying. He couldn’t help but notice how nice she looked when she twirled her hair into a pretty style, or the way her lips seemed to shine with the gloss she put on but never seemed to come off even when she sipped her drink. Of course, she was intelligent, a biochemist didn’t get to this stage in her academic career without being intelligent.

The boys, however, had one thing on their mind (make that two things) when she wore a pretty blue top with jeans cropped at her ankle. Her hair was twirled to the side making her look like some casual Rapunzel and Harry wished he didn’t think like that. But he was thinking like that. Because despite how annoying she could be, she was really beautiful. Effortlessly, it seemed.

Harry never intervened when the boys chatted with her for way longer than they should have. They didn’t seem to have a clue who she was or that Harry was a mere ten meters away eyeing their every movement. Rarely did she dismiss any of them. Ever polite, which he found interesting. The more time he spent watching her, the more fascinated he became by her.

It was only when he heard them say they were into politics that her face immediately soured, and her attention returned to her drink. At that point, her girlfriend who was essentially a second bodyguard on Harry’s detail (especially when it came to guys) came to her rescue shooing the guy away and they’d find another bar to repeat the process all over again.

The two girls linked their arms while Harry walked several paces behind them. He didn’t eavesdrop on their conversation, but he did want to know what made her laugh so hard just because he hadn’t heard her careless laughter like that before. It made her seem so at ease. He wished she was like that all the time.

Right as they started to enter the next place, a boy snagged her about the waist. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked. She blinked in surprise and Harry settled against the wall one business down from her spot at the entrance of the bar. He never found the guys in her company malicious or harmful. They were dumb and drunk most often. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

She pulled from him giving her friend a knowing look. With a gentle smile she grinned at the guy. Harry felt something in his chest warm over. It made him...jealous.

Oh, that’s not good. He thought to himself. But he shoved the emotion to the side. He would deal with it later. He missed the introduction the guy gave so he didn’t get to hear his name. Which meant he would have to wrangle it out of her later when he did a background check on him. “Let me take you home,” he said.

“I’m with my friend,” she nodded toward the girl. The forwardness took her friend for a loop, she was hovering closer to Harry than she had been in the last few places.

“Tell her you’re leaving,” he shrugged.

Her smile was tight. Harry could see it from where he stood. He inched a bit closer toward her friend. Even she was looking on nervously. Harry was twitching to punch him already. Especially if he didn’t leave her alone. “No, thank you,” she said reaching for the door to get inside. He slapped it shut. This time, Harry saw the way she straightened. If she was dog or a cat, he imagined she would have raised hackles. Harry pressed a finger to his ear.

“Stand by,” he mumbled to the receiver attached to him. Despite the noise of the busy street, he could hear the distinct sound of one of the department registered SUV’s engine turning over.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” he smiled. The alcohol must have made him more confident. She wasn’t having it.

“I said no,” she was firm. There wasn’t room for argument. Harry felt a bit...proud of how she confidently sized herself up against him. Of course, she had scared an entire division anywhere from ten to thirty years older than her. Surely, she could take on a guy her own age.

“At least give me a chance to turn it into a yes,” he said snagging her hand. She pulled it from his grip, turning toward her friend. She caught Harry’s eye as she did. He was now almost beside her friend, and he swore he saw a sparkle in her eye as if she had only just realized Harry was actually there.

“Baby, what are you doing here!?” She said excitedly, running toward Harry as if she truly had no idea, he was right there all this time. She threw herself against him, arms looping around his neck as she clung to him. Harry felt stunned, one arm wrapping back around her waist. Her exposed skin was warm despite the reminder it was the end of August and evening air was getting cool. But she was like holding the embodiment of summer in his arms.

This was definitely not part of his training. As an agent, he was typically observant and could usually predict different outcomes or make sense of the scene and situation around him. He could figure out what most people were going to do before they did it.

Her sudden stunt left him a bit dazed.

“Thought you didn’t get out of work till later,” she smiled up at him as she pulled away, batting her eyelashes at him. “Can you take us home?” She jutted out her lower lip gazing at him with...adoration? That couldn’t be right. Even if it was for show, she was good at it. Harry didn’t know she was capable of acting. Especially acting as if she was in love.

“Uh...yeah,” Harry cleared his throat. “Got out early,” he mumbled following her lead. He could hear the laughter in the earpiece as she wrapped her arm around his waist. She grabbed her friend’s hand, and they headed off the way they came.

“He’s staring at my ass,” she whispered to her friend. “I can feel it.”

“I mean it’s a nice ass,” she shrugged with a smile.

The girl kept hold of Harry and rolled her eyes. “Creepy,” but Harry didn’t miss how he felt her arm tighten around his waist. He would break the guy’s arm for her if she asked. Harry had the right mind to kill him just for being so forward and annoying to her. Not taking no for an answer the first time she said it. When they turned the corner, she released him immediately. Harry couldn’t help how he felt cold without her embrace. And he hated how easy it was to slip into the mindset that it felt good with her wrapped around him.

Fortunately, she and her friend took off running down the block for the next bar so Harry once more had to put that notion to the side.

Harry entered her apartment on September first surprised to find the array of pink peonies and carnations that had adorned her walls the last three weeks were replaced by sunflowers. It was…enlightening. To say the least. Harry wasn’t even in a bad mood, but he was overwhelmed with happiness as he settled his stuff onto the dining room table. “Do you do this every month?” He asked, making his way toward her. She was on a step stool, draping more sunflower vines along the walls.

“No,” she smirked. “I’ll keep these up until December first,” she explained. “I do add some Halloween colors in next month though...and then I take those down to put up leaves for November.”

He loved her place. It was as adorable as she was. Even if he shouldn’t think that way. He enjoyed coming to work. Even if she was going to make him crazy. The flowers were pretty. It made the place utterly welcoming. More of the side of the personality he never really heard about from The Department on display. “What do y’do for the winter?” He asked grabbing the vine that dangled out of her reach and helped her put it up. With her on the stepstool she was a head taller than Harry.

It was not the time to think such things. Plus, she had never thought anything about any of her security detail before of course, but obviously Harry was much closer in age to her than anyone else before him. She couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was and now she was eye level with him. He didn’t question her. Didn’t yell at her for balancing precariously on the step stool, he didn’t care that she had hundreds of flowers to put up. He followed her around the apartment all afternoon chatting with her about her interior design vision.

“I feel like I need something to balance out poinsettias though,” she shrugged as they moved to her bedroom. Harry helped her more and she accepted it, surprisingly. He listened to her rant and rave about flowers and didn’t seem to mind at all that he was being paid to decorate with her. “Most winter flowers are red,” she explained. “I like red, but it’s overwhelming, you know? I think winterberries are beautiful, but I love petals,” she continued.

“Well, what ‘bout snowdrop?” Harry asked.

She paused her movements, tilted her head at him. “I don’t know that one,” she admitted. He quickly reached for his phone, tapped it several times then handed it to her.

“These?” He suggested. The screen showed the pretty little white flowers, and she glanced back at Harry. “They’d look pretty with winterberry or poinsettias,” he murmured.

Harry liked flowers. How fascinating. She assumed, like most of the other agents before him, Harry probably knew every detail of her life. Maybe better than she did sometimes. But of course, Harry was quite tight-lipped. She knew some of his food and drink tastes, but she didn’t know much about his home life, why he came to America, or how he ended up on her detail.

But he liked flowers enough to know the names of them. Enough to show an interest in something she cared about. Even if it was just a bunch of wall décor. Handing the phone back to him, she smirked at him. “I think I’ll order some fake ones on Amazon. Thank you,” she smiled.

Harry smiled back at her. “Happy t’help,” he mumbled and held his hand out for her to get off the step stool. “Any plans for today?”

Her plan was to torture Harry now that they were in single digit days until classes restarted. But his kindness ruined that. She sort of hated that he was so nice to her even when she was a bitch. He was really ruining all the hard work she put into terrifying a division of special agents. “Just work and movies probably.”

He nodded. “Sure, I’ll be here,” he smirked and found his seat at the dining table.

“You could sit over here if you want. That chair can’t be comfy all day,” she said.

He shrugged. “S’not bad,” he said gathering his stuff and moving to the opposite sofa she was on. He settled in as she scrolled through different titles on Netflix.

“Do you have any recommendations?” She asked. “I suck at picking movies.”

“I can recommend a rom-com if s’your thing,” he shrugged. “I haven’t watched it yet. Someone else recommended it t'me.”

She adored the idea that her intimidating, closed-lipped bodyguard liked rom-coms. She put it on immediately. If it was formulaic, she didn’t care. She liked knowing what to expect. Watching a movie with Harry was also relaxing. The first time neither of them spoke or acted tensely about her whereabouts. They both chuckled at the same time at different parts and pointed out funny things to rewind ten seconds that the other had missed in the background.

Of all the time she had spent with her bodyguards over the last seven years, this was one of the best afternoons she ever had.

The worst of his job started about a week after her classes started. She was out with friends and Harry deemed the drunk college men harmless and gave her more space at the bar where she and her friends danced.

He could see where Niall was coming from, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing she was getting to him. Harry was a bit competitive and didn’t want The Department to know he was feeling bested by her too.

But he couldn’t help but be annoyed that it happened much more frequently throughout the month of September and October, becoming routine. Monday through Thursday and Sunday she spent in class, studying, or working in her sitting room and still somehow managing to get one of her jogs in before sunset almost daily. Fridays and Saturdays were spent all but torturing Harry. He had to be much more ready for her attempted escapes.

The first weekend that her classes started, she literally climbed out the bathroom window of the bar. The only reason he caught her was because one of the loudmouth guys she was with was watching a video her friend had sent of her crawling out the window and he was laughing at the hysterics of it. When Harry caught up to her at the corner of the road, she hurled several insults at him that he hadn’t once heard fall from her lips.

“I’m a grown fucking woman,” she snapped. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“S’protocol,” he shrugged. Even if he liked her, he was there to do a job.

The time after that, she simply tried outrunning him, but his legs allowed for much longer strides than her, so she didn’t get too far from him. That time she threw her shoe at him, narrowly avoiding his head. She limped awkwardly to the SUV where she sulked. Harry picked up her shoe and placed it at her feet before he drove her back to her place, where she slammed the door to her room but didn’t come back out once. Since he caught her that time, no paperwork was required.

The following week she was making out with someone in the bathroom hallway and while the idea was disgusting because she deserved far better accommodations than a bathroom hall in a messy bar in a college town, this wasn’t even that bad as far as his job went. But it did make his chest hot with jealousy.

So, he let her make out with the stupid guy while he drank his water at the bar.

The next time she hopped into a car with a stranger. Fortunately, her friend was with her so Harry didn’t worry about her well-being too much. But once he followed her to his place of residence she screamed some more while Harry just watched her have her temper tantrum. Her friend seemed entirely used to these outbursts. She ushered the guys they had met upstairs while she slunk back to the SUV once more. Grumbling and cursing at Harry under her breath.

That event required a huge, detailed report and a grumbly talking to from one of the higher ups. It made Harry irritable but found it hard to stay completely mad at her because she made brownies the following day and told him to help himself—like a peace offering.

Despite the insults and the cursing, Harry would attend meetings and debriefings where they would ask Harry if he wanted out. “Would you like to be reassigned?” They sounded tired. Like they were already anticipating who they would get to replace him.

“Did she ask for someone new?” He asked.

His supervisory blinked at him. “No...but...don’t you want out? It’s been almost a month and a half.”

He frowned. “Er...with all do respect. If she doesn’t mind me, then I’ll stay.”

Harry wasn’t going to back down from a challenge.

The worst however was her escape from the concert. There were simply too many variables. Even with a team of ten, Harry still felt outnumbered by her and her friend. To be fair, they told Harry ahead of the concert it was a lost cause. There was no way she wouldn’t escape. It was her best chance.

She was getting ready for the night in her bathroom. Harry was vigilant as ever in the dining area. She came out to the living room to check on her phone charging on the side table. She looked comfy and adorable. Jeans, converse, a tanktop that fit loosely so it showed off...her assets in a tasteful way. Harry thought she was pretty as always. “Y’look nice,” he mumbled.

She glanced at him curiously and her cheeks warmed at his compliment. “Thank you,” she responded kindly. He closed his laptop and he sighed.

“Look,” he said. Immediately, her kindness disappeared from her face.

“Harry,” she sighed not feeling like fighting.

“I know you’re going to escape,” he told her. “Whatever, s’jus’ more paperwork, right?” He asked with a weak smile. She frowned knowing that he already anticipated her idea for the night. “Please,” he said. “Can y’jus’ send me your location?” He pleaded. “Please," he repeated. "I won’t tell anyone, I won’t make it a big deal. I...jus’ want t’know you’re safe,” he explained. Biting the inside of her cheek she opened her message thread with Harry looking away from his intense gaze. She shared her location for the next twenty-four hours with him. “Thank you,” he said appreciatively getting the alert on his phone. “If y’get into trouble or y’feel unsafe, please jus’ call,” he continued. “I won’t make a big deal of that either.”

He seemed so genuine. Like he really cared about her safety beyond the protocol of his job.

If she wasn’t careful, she was really going to fall in love with him.

It was a shame that her willingness to help Harry out didn’t pan out the way he hoped. When the concert had ended, he thought he had actually done a good job. He kept an eye on her little marker the entire time; she was in place at her seat the duration of the concert. He even got to enjoy a bit of the indie band she was seeing—he heard her play the music on while she worked or read but never really noticed how much he actually liked it. They even put on a good show.

But when most had filed out of her section, he came to the conclusion that she was no longer present. With a groan he headed down to her section, finding not a trace of her behind. But her phone still said she was here. He started searching beneath the seats, dodging sticky soda and alcohol along with popcorn strewn about.

He found an array of jewelry and a condom packet. He even found a wallet that he would bring by to lost and found. But it was her phone that he found that made his body warm with more rage. The flower phone case he was used to seeing around her apartment mocked him. She tricked him. After all that.

The idea of paperwork didn’t compare to the hurt he felt over her betraying deceit.

She was enjoying a drink with her friends at one of their favorite spots. For the first time in months, she felt so carefree. They were discussing their latest exams and how nice the concert was. A round of drinks sat empty in front of them while they sipped on the second. Harry was giving her ample space. But that should have been her first clue.

Her arm was yanked out of the booth, and she nearly lost her footing as Harry grabbed onto her but continued to hold her upright.

“Are you fucking serious?” He snapped. Everyone turned to look at him. She scrambled to stand upright. She was ready to scream at him for tugging her out of the booth like that. In front of all her friends. Everyone was silent as she opened her mouth to yell. But then she saw it.

Harry was pissed.

Instantly, she wavered. Her face contorting from anger to worry, sadness. She looked upset. Remorseful even. “Harry,” she started.

“I don’t know what your problem is with me—”

“I didn’t—”

“—but I didn’t do anything t’warrant this!” He shouted, holding her phone up. She instinctively felt for her pocket and realized her mistake. Oh...he was going to kill her.

But still, he was currently embarrassing her.

She wanted to scream right back at him. But she knew he was mad. She knew why he was mad. He asked for hardly anything at all tonight—knowing she was going to leave. It was kind of him to give her so much grace and freedom when no one on that team had ever done so. Even though she left without a word, she truly thought her phone was in her bag. She hadn’t even thought to look for it because she never lost her phone.

“I know y’think s’a big joke. But I take m’job seriously. I take protocol seriously. Jus’ because you want t’pout and cry like a bratty little girl, doesn’t mean y’going t’ruin my life. My career.”

Her eyes narrowed. She hated to be yelled at. Belittled. It made her extremely angry. Regardless of how much she actually liked him. Despite the fact she felt bad she accidentally betrayed his trust. But he was embarrassing her in front of friends and calling her names that everyone else in the department used daily, pissed her off beyond belief.

She glared at him, set her jaw firmly. She could feel frustrated tears lining her vision and she grabbed her purse out of the booth violently. She made no eye contact with the group of her silent friends. She marched right outside to the SUV he had double-parked. Slamming the door shut behind her, she waited until Harry was in the car as well.

“I didn’t know I didn’t have it,” she seethed.

He scoffed. “Bullshit.”

She closed her eyes tightly. So tightly she saw red dancing in her vision. “Believe what you want. I didn’t know,” she snapped. “You were so embarrassing in there. I’m sorry I pissed you off. Again, I really didn’t mean it. But you didn’t have to embarrass me in front of my friends like that.”

“If you’re going to act like a brat—”

She shook her head slowly balling her fists in her lap. “If you call me a brat one more time, I’m going to punch you in the throat,” it was a promise. Harry didn’t think she would cause all that much damage, but he didn’t think it would be wise to take a punch to the throat while he was driving her.

They were silent for five minutes while he drove her back to her place. “You really didn’t know?” He asked, his voice a hair softer.

She glared out the window with a silent shake of her head. “M’sorry,” she murmured.

He sighed and listened to the sound of the tires thrumming against the road for a bit.

“M’sorry I called y’a brat in front of your friends... Can y’please...try t’be...I don’t know...good for me? I like t’think m’not that bad of a guy. M’not that bad at m’job...that I give y’enough space...that we’re...okay.”

More silence until they parked. “You’re the best bodyguard I ever had,” she admitted quietly. “I didn’t mean to do that to you.”

He nodded. “Okay...I accept your apology. Can y’try t’be more mindful?”

She nodded in return. “I’ll try.”

“Call me next time, okay?”

“I don’t know your phone number,” she rolled her eyes.

“Well memorize it,” he sighed a touch of agitation in his tone. She should memorize it for emergencies. “And y’need a failsafe.”

“A what?”

“A failsafe. Assurance that if everything goes—”

“I know what a failsafe is, you ass. What do you mean I need one?”

He ignored her name calling. She deserved one after he called her a brat. “If...something happens t’you. Y’need a way t’get in touch with me. But something that no one else knows. Not even me. But s’got t’be easy enough for me t’figure out. We can go over some of them if y’want that others have used in the past so y’have some ideas t’work with,” he tapped on the steering wheel. “I know I said this was a job, but I do actually care about y’safety.”

She was silent for a few more moments. “If you yell at me like that in front of everyone again, I’ll kill you,” she promised opening her door to head back up to her apartment. He smirked.

“Maybe y’don’t need a failsafe; I pity the person that tries t’take you on.”

As frustrating as she could be, she was equally, if not more, lovely in that it made him forget all the paperwork and all the annoyance she caused him. They were on a Target run; she was wandering the aisles casually meandering at her leisure. Harry was eyeing her surroundings, assuring himself there was nothing that would put her in danger.

Honestly, some days he could see why she didn’t want a detail. She didn’t do anything that warranted protection and it didn’t seem like anyone was after her. Not once had he heard from or met with The Secretary of State. While he was grateful for a cushy job, he could see why she was always grumpy about it.

She was scanning new book titles on the shelf and placed two of them in her basket when she suddenly took off without warning. Harry followed after her, caught off guard by her quick pace mildly irritated him once more she evaded him. What he expected of her was never what happened.

She entered the dressing room area, making Harry more irritated that he couldn’t follow her immediately into the women’s section. He wanted to know what he missed, that had her running through the dressing room so fast that she dropped her basket full of mismatching items outside as she hurried back out almost as quickly as she went in.

“You didn’t see her, did you?” She asked Harry before he could ask her what the problem was.

He grabbed her basket that she left behind as she took off once more. He followed after her as she hurried through the other sections of the store.

“See who?” He asked almost running to keep up with her alert pace.

��Seriously?” She asked behind her. “You didn’t hear the frantic mother looking for her child? Aren’t you supposed to be watching for these things?”

He felt his mouth twitch to snap back at her, but she looked genuinely alarmed. Almost as alarmed as the employees in red shirts running around almost as quickly as she was. Despite the sympathetic pang he felt for the upset woman calling a little girl’s name out around the aisles, it wasn’t their problem. It especially wasn’t Harry’s problem who was assigned to watch the 24-year-old—so no, he didn’t really pay attention to the worry in the department store.

“M’sure she’s fine, love,” Harry said trying to assuage her worries. He felt bad, she was so worried. He even felt...awe for her. Her . But she wasn’t giving up it seemed, as she made a quick stop through the clearance section nearly causing Harry to twist an ankle at her sudden turn. She didn’t respond to Harry’s calming voice.

“Someone could have just walked off with her,” she remarked nervously.

Harry could see the fierceness in her eyes. She was resolute: they weren’t leaving the store until this girl was found. Sighing, Harry kept one eye on the girl he was paid to follow and another on the lookout for a small little one that was probably terrified.

Harry tried to tell her something about hideouts and the like, but it was unhelpful. They gleaned they were looking for an eight-year-old. “We’re not thinking like eight-year-olds,” she muttered suddenly and nearly left Harry in the dust as she all but sprinted toward the back of the store once more.

Harry found her crouched in the middle of the aisle, talking to the Halloween costumes on a rack. “Hey, cutie pie, whatcha looking for?” Her voice was soft and gentle.

“I lost my mommy,” the little voice whispered from the rack.

Harry found himself sighing with relief dropping her basket of things by her side. The little girl looked up at Harry suspiciously. She was hidden behind a dog costume and the tule of a tutu beside it. “That’s really scary,” the girl nodded. “I hate losing my mommy,” she said. The little one was still staring at Harry with nervousness.

“This is Harry,” she told her. “He’s tall, huh?” She smiled gently. “Can we help you find your mommy?”

“Mommy said no strangers,” she shook her head pressing herself firmly against the rack, her eyes watery. “I’m scared.”

The girl nodded, sitting on the floor, cross-legged. “Well, I think that’s really smart of you. Mommy would be really proud of you,” she had a comforting smile on her lips. “How about we stay here, and Harry will go get your mommy?”

Harry looked disgruntled as he made a noise in the back of his throat. He couldn’t leave her alone...even for the sake of a child. Even if they were just in a target. “Love,” he started.

She turned her head to Harry. “They are running around the store just to find someone,” she hissed under her breath before turning her gentle façade back to the little girl. “Whatcha got there?” She asked. “Halloween book?” She wondered.

The little one nodded, stepping cautiously off the display of costumes. Tentatively, she sat next to the woman that drove Harry up a wall most days. But right now, she was so gentle, so sweet. Harry felt nothing but pure adoration for her and her kindness to the little one. “Please?” She asked, turning back to Harry as the little one opened the book up and started showing her the pictures in the middle of the floor. Her expression was kind, warm, pleading.

Begrudgingly, Harry headed toward the front of the store in search of the terrified mother.

There was a bit of fanfare—especially after realization of who the woman was that found the little one and was reading a picture book on the dusty store floor. She paid no mind to it, said it was her pleasure to help.

After paying for her things, Harry opened the door for her to the SUV and she climbed inside. He felt a bit awestruck. Sure, she was the daughter of a top political official, but that fame didn’t really mean anything to Harry. He was more impressed with her gentle nature. Her kindness. She was cute with kids and had a fiercely protective streak of her own.

She didn’t even mention it; moreover, thought nothing of it, just scrolled through her phone. “Can we get coffee?” She asked.

He thought she might be his hero. Pain in the ass she was. “Course, love,” he murmured. Heroes needed a reward for their efforts. Even if they didn’t see it that way. “You drink an awful lot of coffee.”

“Biochemistry will do that to you,” she muttered, irritated by his remark. It clearly had been said to her before. Somehow, in that moment, Harry realized that she was also fiercely protective of herself. Maybe she had to be given how The Department talked about her behind her back. Maybe because everyone looked at her as if she didn’t know anything as a woman in a science major that Harry could hardly pronounce half the words for when he saw her notes on the coffee table.

“That was really cool of you,” he mumbled pulling into traffic toward the coffee shop. “The way y’helped that little girl.”

She turned to look at Harry. “She was scared,” she sounded defensive. Like Harry was mocking her.

“I know,” he said seriously. “Y’calmed her down and y’helped her. Was really nice,” he shrugged one shoulder hoping he sounded more sincere so she wouldn’t yell again.

She turned to the window. “I got lost at the store once with my dad,” she explained. “I was six. I was terrified. He didn’t even know I was lost until he drove home,” she mumbled. “It was the most terrified I’ve ever felt in my whole life.”

He pulled into the parking lot and she hurried out before Harry could say another word. He watched her intently as she stood in line, ordered, and returned with tea for Harry without even asking him if he wanted some. She was always very thoughtful toward him. Whether she annoyed him beyond belief or not.

For every moment of irritation, anxiety, and annoyance she had put him through thus far on this assignment, it all was swept clean as he thought about what she said. Her dad asking for a protection detail made no sense. Who loses their six-year-old without noticing? Was the protection detail some deep-seated need to fix his mistake all those years ago? What kind of political official could hold office with a straight face knowing his daughter had that kind of dirt on him? How could she not shout it from rooftops?

Harry was right. She had to be fiercely protective of herself because no one else was.

He hoped that eventually she would let him protect her just as much; maybe even stop her frustrating fleeing. Because despite the irritation she often caused, he was really starting to like the many sides of her.

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

Protection taglist: @youcouldstartacult @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @luxiorchive @ameerakane20 @daphnesutton @kathb59 @be-with-me-so-happily

330 notes · View notes