“All of the books, Sir?” You stared at the entirety of the young master’s personal library. Too many paperbacks and hard covers to count. You were incredulous. Reorganize all of his books? That would take at least a week and a half, maybe more depending on how exactly he wanted them organized. Selfishly, you wondered if you preferred the sad, moping young master Jung to this ‘too-pleased-to-send-you-off-to-do-a-random-task-for-him’ version. But even as you thought it, you knew it was untrue.
It made you happy to see him so content and determined. Everything was done with a purpose. Writing at his desk, checking the staff, receiving random visitors. Men he was in business with, you presumed. More than keeping himself busy, he did everything with a pleased expression. Confident and assured. “Yes,” he replied with a light smile. “I would like them to be organized by genre and setting.” Setting? How on Earth were you meant to do that in an efficient manner?
You asked him such, though much more polite in execution. He shrugged his shoulders, countenance rather blasé. “I guess you will just have to read them to find out.” A genuine quiet chuckle left his lips as you glanced around the shelves of books wide-eyed. “You can start with any shelf you like. When you’ve had enough, you may return to your usual daily chores.” Back at the house in Lakeland, you were forbidden to even step foot inside Old Man Zhong’s personal library, much less read the books. Now, you were suddenly given access to the largest collection of books you’d ever seen in your life. “Unless you prefer your daily chores.” His expression faltering subtly. “In which case, you are free to go. I have no issue with finding someone else.”
“No, Sir. I will be able to handle it.” His eyes took you in like a soft blanket, warm and comforting. You felt your cheeks heat up from his stare. Uncertain why, it seemed to you as if he were giving you this task because of your interest in reading from your greenhouse rendezvous and… perhaps… after the confession that he found your presence calming… he wanted to keep you close? You chastised yourself for being completely irrational. The young master didn’t need distractions like you around to keep him company. He was a busy man with a busy schedule.
Slightly embarrassed, you turned to face one of the bookshelves, running a couple fingers along the spines. All different authors and stories. “You do like books, don’t you?”You glanced over into his timid eyes, teeth gently gnawing on the inside of your bottom lip. He visibly relaxed once you gave him a subtle nod in confirmation.
As well as you tried to stay on task, you found yourself easily distracted by the mannerisms exhibited by the young master, ones you’d never had the chance to witness or focus on before. Sat on a chair in your corner, you had a perfect view of the man at his desk. You picked up on all these little details. The way his eyebrows raised involuntarily while reading letters or how he diligently wiped his ink-blotted fingers on a handkerchief. You could almost envision him as some renowned scholar or lawyer, turning the world with the will and power of his pen. Did all women in their lives felt the same sense of awe around them as you did around him in those moments?
Despite his distinguished and conspicuous presence you were eventually able to dive into the worlds of fiction contained in the books you had set aside. The ones that interested you the most had a name printed on the inside of the cover: JUNG SUNGCHAN. You created a separate pile for them, certain that they must be of some importance to be labeled. “How is it coming along, Ms. L/N?” The young master asked, taking a break from his work. He leaned casually on a shelf. Suit jacket now gone with his sleeves rolled up to mid-forearm. “Have you found a good selection?” You nodded without taking your eyes off the page you were staring at. “What’s this?” He bent down to peer at the book over your shoulder.
On your lap was an encyclopedia. At first, you had no interest in the contents — typically drawn to fantasy and adventure stories — but that changed once you realized that the book held a plethora of information that you never knew. In that particular moment, you had it open under the term ‘restaurant’, staring at the sketch of a man and a woman sat at a well decorated table with candles and rose petals inside a fancy restaurant. The couple were wearing nice clothing. Nicer than anything you’d seen in real life. “May I ask you something, Sir?” He hummed in response. “Do places like this exist? In real life?”
You stared up at him with those wide and curious eyes of yours, and for a moment the young master forgot how to speak. He cleared his throat, bringing his attention to the image instead of your face. “Of course they do. Have you never been to a restaurant before?” It wasn’t until he saw your awkwardly bashful expression — voice small when you confessed to him that you hadn’t — that he dropped his incredulity, not wanting you to feel bad for not living the same experiences as him. After all, you were just a maid. Even as the statement passed through his brain, Sungchan felt it was wrong. You weren’t ‘just’, you were… something else. “Well, at least, I’ve been fortunate enough to visit one with my parents when I was little. The ceilings were high with a grand chandelier, and there was a string quartet that played the whole night.”
Clinging onto his every word, you listened intently as he spoke about his memories. As if they could be imbedded into your mind. It was clear that no matter how human the young master became to you, there would always be this divide in experience. He related about beautiful women in fancy dresses hiding their intrigue behind a fan and distinguished men smoking pipes as they discussed current events and the state of the economy. Things you may never get a chance to witness for yourself, so instead you borrowed the thoughts and memories of someone who had. “It sounds lovely. If only I were to get the chance to see such a place myself.”
“Perhaps one day, Ms. L/N,” he said it with such certainty your chest felt as if it were caving in from the unlikely hope. If the young master thought it was possible, then it was. His attention drew back to the stack of books in front of you. “What is this pile?” Your face flushed slightly, not having anticipated that he would check on your work so soon. You could only imagine that you had it all wrong and the labels meant nothing.
You figured you had no other choice than to be honest with the young master. “I am not entirely sure, but they all have the same name printed on their cover.” Leaning over, you picked up one of the books, comparing it to the one on your lap. Both having the name written neatly. The kind of neatness that came from pride in what was being written. “Jung Sungchan.” The man almost shivered when you said his full name. It had been a while since he heard anyone say it, much less you, who he believed never once did. Something he only realized in that very moment. “I can imagine that you would wish to keep these in a special place, considering they must’ve belonged to an important member of your family. I have yet to figure out which one.”
Sungchan could not contain the unbridled chuckle that escaped his lips. Eyes turning into sparkling crescent moons. You found his joy so breathtaking, you almost didn’t get the chance to question yourself about what was so funny. “Miss L/N,” he began in a light tone. “You have been here for how many months and you have still yet to learn my name?” Embarrassed did not even begin to describe how you felt in that moment, the feeling was more akin to mortified. How could you possibly not know the name of your master? You were truly and indubitably a foolish girl. “It’s quite alright, Miss L/N. It is an honest mistake.”
You took deep breaths as he made his way back over to his desk. The same mild amusement etched onto his countenance as he sat down. His eyes constantly glancing over to you, still sat in disbelief. “Jung Sungchan,” you tested out the name on your tongue. “Mrs. Ryu called you Chan-ie.” You recalled the night of the party. The woman overjoyed by the young master’s effort she had slipped in an affectionate nickname. And you had hardly noticed!
A quiet chuckle left the man’s lips at the memory. “That she did.” He confirmed. “She was my governess for a long time while I was growing up. Before she became head housekeeper. She’s the only person here that still calls me by my actual name.” For a short while he stared absentmindedly across the room, a wistful look on his face. You appreciated the young master’s melancholic charm, nostalgic for a long since forgotten time. It meant that he had lived a good life up until now, and you were certain that only more happiness would come the competent man’s way.
“Jung Sungchan,” you repeated, drawing him out of his daze. “Sungchan.” He hummed contently, gaze locking with yours. “I think the name suits you.” Your bashful smile caused the young master’s ears to turn red.
“Thank you. I think so as well.” Suddenly he busied himself with the parchment in front of him. “If you think it suits me so well, why don’t you call for me by it?” Call for the master by his given name? It sounded preposterous and not very appropriate for propriety’s sake.
You unnervingly began scratching your elbows. “I don’t believe it would be appropriate, Sir, if I were to call you something that I — as a maid — am not entitled to. After all, you are my master.” Sungchan wanted to argue but was unable to come up with a solid answer.
He pursed his lips in thought. “Then perhaps when the nearby surroundings are only occupied by the two of us, we will call on each other by our given names. When others are not in earshot.” In genuine honesty he added: “it would mean a lot to me to hear my name in use again. I seldom hear much of it anymore.”
“Okay,” you spoke softly. “If that is what you wish, Sungchan.”
“It is, Y/N.”
The young master’s study fell back into that peaceful silence. Only this time, you weren’t the only one sparing timid glances at the other occupant.
🪼⋆｡𖦹°. synopsis: you and wonbin were casted to model on the front cover of vogue's next issue, forcing the two of you into situations a little too close for comfort (for him at least...).
(,,>ヮ<,,)! ~ contents: smut!! 18+, model au, sub!wonbin, age gap(ish? 3 yr), noona kink, forced proximity, porn with plot, degradation, praise, oral (f!receiving), p in v, virgin wonbin, super i mean SUPER pussy drunk wonbin..., creampie, he is RIGHT where he wants 2 be..
🫧⋆. author's note: inspired by wonbin's look @ the chanel show... holyyy [insert drooling emoji]
you’ve never really been that into younger men.
you were the kind of woman who needed someone mature; you needed someone who knew what they wanted in life, someone with plenty of love to give, and someone with more than enough money to spoil you rotten.
well–that last bullet wasn’t entirely necessary. after being involved in the modeling industry for roughly eight years, you miraculously managed to climb up to the top. you could spoil yourself whenever you pleased–you’re a chanel ambassador for crying out loud–why would you need a man to give a mere fraction of what you already had?
yet, you did long for some form of intimacy: physical or emotional.
which is why this recent booking of yours was beginning to drive you mad.
you were hired to model for vogue’s front cover along with the industry’s infamous rookie: park wonbin. he was 24 years old, marking him three years younger than you. it only took him a year to get big in the industry, which wasn’t hard to believe if you’ve seen his face…
but still, not a big deal–right? you’ve modeled for vogue countless times (not to brag),
‘having a co-model wouldn’t make the experience any different,’ you thought.
it wasn’t long after you left the changing room before your gaze was met with the man himself. gosh–you knew his shoulders were broad, but seeing them in person-
“hi, i’m park wonbin. i’m looking forward to working with you,” he spoke softly. “i’ve-i’ve seen your work, you’re incredible.”
you returned his comment with a smile, reaching out to shake his hand. “thank you, you too.”
wonbin’s ears flushed a soft red, smiling and avoiding your eyes before the two of you were called to the set.
geez, you knew he was a rookie, but you never expected him to be this awkward… you would assume that the amount of gigs he’s booked would make him more confident.
“condense a little, come closer together.” the director said.
you were seated on a dark velvet sofa, legs crossed as they hung over the edge. wonbin was positioned on the floor directly beneath you embracing your legs.
“lean in a little more–really look at her.”
wonbin followed what he was told, tilting his head to face you. he leaned his torso closer to you, his warm palms running up and down the curvature of your legs as his cheeks began to blush.
you faced the camera, keeping a monotonous expression.
the cameras shuttered. “good, stay like that,” the photographer requested. “thread your fingers through his hair.”
so you did; wonbin’s hair was undeniably soft, you could stay in this position for ages… you continued petting him, almost like a dog.
you’ve worked with attractive men, sure–but the man behind you had talent. the way his hands grazed over the fabric of your dress, the way his eyes wandered over your body like a lover would-
and it only got worse when the two of you switched poses.
wonbin rested his body against the sofa, elbows propping up his upper half. your body hovered directly over him before settling yourself on his lap, thighs straddling his hips. you grabbed hold of his tie and tugged it lightly–just enough to render the fabric taut.
the staff continued to instruct the two of you how to pose, taking their oh sweet time as they kept the two of you in this position. this was all a part of the job; sometimes you have to be a little too close for comfort to someone you don’t know, but at least it was guaranteed they’d be conventionally attractive.
so straddling wonbin–practically grinding on him from the amount of times you were told to shift positions on top of him–wouldn’t have been a problem.
if you couldn’t feel how fucking hard he was underneath you. his cheeks flushed a soft pink, not bearing to look you in the eyes after you realized just how aroused he was…
you were attractive, sure–but getting all hot and bothered over someone you’ve only known personally for an hour or two, not to mention mid-shoot… these photos, his erection was going to be exposed to the whole population for god’s sake–what the heck was he thinking???
after an agonizing ten minutes–emphasis on agonizing–the shoot was finally over. you stood up, wonbin not wasting one second before making his way to his dressing room.
you changed back into your clothes from earlier and gathered your things, locking the door behind you before passing by wonbin’s change room. the rational part of you was screaming to just keep walking, the sooner you get home the better. but the other part of you had a few doubts… ‘i mean, he is my co-star, we did just have a shoot together…i should drop a couple words before i leave…’
did you just want a valid excuse to see him again? (and maybe get in his pants…) yeah, but honestly, seeing wonbin fight to ensure he doesn’t cum on camera was enough to soak your panties through.
you mustered up the courage to knock on the door, slowly stepping back as you began to regret your decision. your thoughts began to jumble together, ‘maybe i should just leave…he’s probably-’
the door cracked open slightly, wonbin peeking out from behind. after realizing it was you, he opened the door a little more.
“hi.”
“hi.” his face was flushed, bits of his bangs sticking to his forehead. his hand around the doorknob trembled. “um, i really liked working with you today.” wonbin said awkwardly, his eyes darting to the side.
“really?” you smiled. “what makes you say that?”
wonbin continued to avoid your gaze. “i’m sorry…”
you looked up at him, tilting your head. “for what? i think the photos turned out pretty nice.”
“sunbaenim…i didn’t mean-”
“just call me noona.” you interrupted. oh my gosh, he was so fucking shy…you just wanted to watch him crack. he nodded, murmuring a quiet ‘thank you’ as his eyes found your breasts–like he couldn’t be any more obvious…
“can i come in?” you asked. his gaze fixes onto yours before giving you permission to enter.
you walked into his room and locked the door. you grabbed the nape of his neck and pressed your lips against his, earning a quiet whimper from the boy in front of you. he walked you backwards until your back was pressed against the door.
wonbin’s hands snaked around your waist, gripping your sides as you pushed your tongue into his mouth. his right hand trailed to your ass while soft moans escaped his lips. you pull away from the kiss, noses still rubbing against eachother.
“do you do this with everyone you work with? rub your dick all over them in front of everyone–then lure her into your dressing room to fuck?” you palm the growing bulge in his slacks. “you’re so fucking immature. do you even think about the consequences? your career?” your hand worked the zipper on his pants as you continued to reprimand him, slowly pulling down his pants. wonbin’s knees grew weak as you scolded him, his breathing ragged.
“noona, i…” he whimpered.
“i don’t want to hear it.” your lips crashed into his once again. you began to rub his soaking tip over the fabric of his boxers. “yeah? what if your manager saw us right now–saw you right now. what if they all saw how pathetic you are, letting your senior touch you like this.”
wonbin bucked his hips into your hand. “please, noona–listen to me baby…” he moaned. “i’m so…sososooo sorry baby… you just felt so good…” he cried into the crook of your neck. “please–please take care of me…please, i’ll be good, i’ll be so good for you…i’ll be a good boy-”
‘he’s lost it’ you thought. but oh–how you loved seeing him like this.
“you’ll be good? yeah?” you press your fingers into his underwear, not granting him any sense of relief yet.
he tugged on your shirt, pulling you towards the sofa. his back was pressed against the seat cushion, your body hovering over his. it was the same scenario as earlier–except there weren’t any cameras on you and wonbin’s pants were no longer in the way of his hardened dick. he pulls you down, lips embracing yours as his hips jerked up to meet yours.
his hands found your shirt once again, lifting it up and over your head; the only thing separating him from seeing your bare torso was the black lace bra you had on. wonbin let out a quiet moan when he saw the fabric–reaching for the clasp.
“can i take this off?”
you nod. wonbin wastes no time and removes your bra, ogling your breasts. “please let me touch them, noona…i really wanna make you feel good noona–please.”
“i know, i know you do…touch them.”
wonbin sat upright, spreading your legs even more as he was practically humping you. his plump lips found your nipples as he began sucking and nipping at the tips. your hips moved against his as your hands found his hair.
with time, the two of you had discarded all of your clothes, making a mess of the floor beneath you two–but that didn’t matter. the only thing that did was that wonbin was underneath you, rubbing his thumb over your swollen clit.
“does this feel good? please, please tell me i’m doing good noona…”
“fuck– yes you’re doing so good…” you choked as you felt wonbin lick a strip of saliva over your hole.
“i’ve–i’ve never done this before, tell me if it’s too much…” he said against the heat of your inner thighs. his tongue pushed deep into you–earning a moan from you. he thrusted his index and middle finger inside, caressing your plush walls as he ate you out.
his fingers moved back and forth rapidly, licking up and down your insides–his fingers hitting your sweet spot.
“bbin–i’m gonna cum–”
“am i doing good noona? please noona–i–”
a series of whimpers escaped your lips as you coated wonbin’s hand and mouth with your juices. he inserted his fingers deeper, forcing the liquids back into your pussy. he wasn’t done with you until you were sure this was the best sex you’ve ever had.
still coming down from your high, you noticed that his dick was still as hard as ever. you needed him in you… now.
“wonnie, i need your dick…please, be a good boy and make noona feel good…” you cried.
“i…don’t have a condom, baby…” he rubbed his dick on your inner thigh, coating his tip with the remnants of your high.
“wonbin, i don’t care…what did i just say.”
“‘m sorry… i’ll be good for you, i promise…” you parted his lips with your fingers before thrusting them into his mouth. wonbin jerked his dick in his hand before slowly pushing it into you. “fuck–i think ‘m already close…” he whimpered. “i’m…i’m so sorry for being bad…i’m sorry for touching you, i’m sorry for even looking at you…” he cried as he thrusted his dick forward, sputtering nonsense as he tried to squeeze into your pretty pussy. “it’s too much noona…i don’t deserve you, baby.”
you cried, clutching the couch cushion as he entered you. “bbin–it’s too big, you’re too big…”
“no, baby…please…i know, i know i know i know…” right when wonbin pushed his cock in all the way, thick white ropes painted your walls. a tear ran down wonbin’s cheek as he thrusted his cum into you. it didn’t matter that he just had the best orgasm of his life–he needed you to experience it too.
his dick was curved ever so slightly, and oh did it do wonders. his tip hit that gummy spot that made your legs go weak–and the fact that his pace just kept increasing made the sex even better.
wonbin flipped you over onto your stomach, lifting your ass to make sure his dick kept fucking you just right.
“bbin you’re so good, treating me so good…i needed your dick bbinie…” you couldn’t stop moaning, you could feel his cum dripping out of you no matter how much he tried to fuck it back in. he pushed your head into the cushion and cried out countless grunts and moans, the two of you coming to your release once again.
your insides were filled with his warm seed and his dick was equally drenched from your squirting. wonbin pulled out briefly, releasing his cum all over your entrance.
the room was hot and stuffy, not to mention filled with the sound of heavy breathing. the mix of yours and wonbin’s juices coated the sofa and reached the floors as well…
“you did so good…so good baby…” you pet his head as he collapsed on top of you, kissing up on your neck.
“noona–” he moaned as he pressed his lips onto yours.
“do you wanna come back to my place?” you suggested. he was just too cute to leave alone…
wonbin nodded, humping your thigh as his tongue explored your mouth even more.
after today, wonbin knew what he wanted in life: to spend it with you. he had the money to spoil you–being one of SM’s top models after all. he could be mature for you, he would do anything for you. whether you needed a fuck-buddy or needed to be loved to death–wonbin would be more than willing to fill that gap in your life.
enemies to fwb | summer camp au | nerd x popular | smut (mdni)
“It looks like we’re stuck here for the night.” Anton peeled off his soaked shirt the second he shut the door behind him. It took everything within you to not ogle at his abs as he walked over to the bathroom to wring out the garment. Was it not enough that his sexy body interrupted your train of thought during every swim lesson with the campers? Now, you were stuck with it in a tiny cabin on an island across the lake from camp. Attached to another personality, maybe things would be different, but Anton’s insufferable, know-it-all, self-righteous attitude made him the worst in your eyes.
“Great,” you muttered to yourself, fully expecting this to be the worst night of your life. Surprisingly, it wasn’t that bad. Anton still threw in some jabs at your lack of bed making skills and the grimace you had on your face while eating that old granola bar. You knew he saw you as a spoiled, ditzy, cheerleader that only was a counselor because her parents owned the camp. Some unfavorable comments were to be expected. But overall things were calm. If you could just find a comfortable position on these blankets and pillows, you might actually survive the night.
“Stop moving around,” Anton said, annoyed with your tossing and turning. “You’re making so much noise.” You were frustrated enough with your lack of sleep. Sweaty from the heat, skin itchy, body aching for comfort. The last thing you needed was for him to try to pick a fight with you.
You huffed, sitting up to see him leaning against the wall, pillow behind his head, with his eyes closed. He was still shirtless. His chest rising and falling from his peaceful breaths. Of course, he had no problem sleeping in this dusty shack of a cabin during a rain storm. “I’m trying to get comfortable. Sorry, if I’m not as freakishly accommodating as you. Some of us are used to livable conditions.”
“You’re such a brat,” he mumbled, but you heard.
“Excuse me?” Your pulse increased, that same ‘dropping’ sensation in your stomach. Suddenly, the shorts you were wearing felt constricting.
Anton finally peeled open his eyes to send you a deadpan stare. “I said, you’re acting like a brat. We have food, drinkable water, and a few blankets to keep us warm. Yet you’re complaining because you can’t get fully ‘comfortable’. I don’t know if you noticed, but this isn’t exactly a five star hotel.”
You were tempted to chuck a pillow at him. Instead you pressed your face to it, muffling a quiet groan. “Anton, don’t get me started. I’m tired and horny and—“
“Horny?” His eyebrows raised in interest. Lips parted in disbelief.
You quickly sputtered out a response. “I meant ‘hungry’,” you clarified. “Hungry. Because those granola bars were disgusting and I didn’t have anything for lunch.” Your face was burning hot. Even you didn’t believe your words.
Neither did Anton, who now had an incredulous smirk on his countenance. “Wow, Princess. I didn’t know you felt this way about me.” God, he truly was insufferable.
“As if!” You exclaimed, a look of disgust passing through your facial expression. “It has nothing to do with you. I just haven’t,” with your hands you gestured something close to a small explosion over your mid section, “you know, since before camp, and I think it’s starting to get to me.”
Anton was a little too amused at this new piece of information for your liking. You waited to be ridiculed only to be met with quasi empathy. “That explains the bratty behavior. You’re much nicer at school.” You shifted unnervingly in your spot. You never thought Anton paid attention to you in school. Usually, he was too busy being the poster boy of academic excellence and responsibility. The two of you had hardly crossed paths before the summer began. Maybe it was better that way.
He anxiously scratched his arm. Tone shifting into something hesitantly kind. “You can do… your thing if you want. I’ll just cover my head with a blanket and plug my ears.” He couldn’t even look you in the eye as he said it. So much for that unexplainable confidence he had a minute ago.
You scoffed. “Like I would trust you to not look.” Despite your proud attitude, your thighs pressed together at the thought of him watching you, listening to your sounds, maybe even relieving himself in the process. Perhaps the great Anton Lee wasn’t as perfectly innocent as he thought he was.
“I’m being serious.”
“I know.” He was trying to be polite in his messed up way. You wrapped your arms around yourself. “I can’t— it doesn’t work like that for me,” you put delicately, uncharacteristically vulnerable. “Normally, I use extra help, but that help isn’t here… with me… right now.” Your gaze wandered around the room before landing on a pensive Anton.
“I could help.” Your eyes widened at the nonchalant tone of his suggestion. Surely he didn’t mean… “I’m pretty good with my hands, and they’re bigger than yours.” Yes, he did.
Your heart was pounding, your breaths fast and short. You began chuckling out of shock. “I’m sorry, did the rain cause mold to grow on your brain? Because I thought you just offered to finger—“
His eyes squeezed shut, obviously regretting his decision but too far in to take it back. “Yeah, yeah, don’t say it aloud. It makes it more awkward if you do. Just come over here.” Anton waved for you to closer with his hand, leaving a space between his legs for you to slot into.
This was insane. There was no way in hell you were going to let Anton of all people touch you so intimately. Even if you were desperate to release the tension inside your body, and his hands were really nice, with long slender fingers that could probably reach parts of you that you couldn’t reach yourself. What are the chances he could actually get you to climax anyway? What kind of experience did he have? Sure, he was diligent and passionate in everything he did. And since he wasn’t completely horrible to look at, he might have been able to get a girl to disregard his terrible personality. But then again, she would’ve had to ignore his annoyingly soft voice saying all these annoyingly provocative things.
“Or am I going to have to go over there and get you myself?”
Those types of things, in a challenging tone that made you want to choke him out while suffocating him with your tongue… damn it.
You crawled over to him with the smallest amount of dignity you had left. Though that went away quickly after he easily grabbed you from underneath your arms and manhandled your body so that your back was against his bare chest. A hand pulling all your hair to one side. His head just over your shoulder. “Let’s just get this over with. The sooner you unwind, the sooner I can have some peace.” You wanted to make a snappy comment back, but his confident hands petting you from your mid-chest down your stomach over your clothes captured your attention.
“Relax,” he whispered, taking hold of your fisted hands, uncurling your fingers to physically place them flat on the blanket. The old fabric created a contrast to the tingling sensation you felt throughout your body. “Good,” his arms wrapped around you carefully. Palms pressed against your ribcage. “Now breathe.”
That vital little action must have slipped your mind due to the absurdity of the situation. Your thighs twitched as his fingertips drew closer to the hem of your shorts. He was going to dive right in without any… decency. “Wait,” you grabbed his wrists. Anton let out an impatient huff of air. “Aren’t you going to kiss me first or something? You know, so it feels more real.”
Anton pulled you closer with his ridiculously buff arms. It felt like he could swallow the entirety of you through his chest. “Is this not real enough for you?” One hand snuck under your t-shirt and found your covered breast, fingers fiddling with the underwire of your bra. You squirmed from the soft touch, feeling ticklish. A few unexpected giggles left your mouth. “You’re moving too much.” Anton sighed in light frustration, hands wrapping around your waist to pull you back up his chest.
“I’m sorry,” you spoke rather breathlessly, “it’s just this whole thing is really weird.”
“I told you, talking about it only makes it awkward.”
Your nails picked at the yarn from the knitted blanket. “It’s more than that. You won’t even kiss me and I don’t blame you because I’m not sure I want to kiss you either. But here you are, acting kind of sweet. About to give me an orgasm so that I stop bothering you. Yet we can’t even kiss, because we don’t even like each other and—“
Your long-winded rant was interrupted by a commanding turn of your cheek from his hand and a firm press of his lips on yours. When he pulled away, you couldn’t quite make out the details of Anton’s face but you could tell he was just as shocked by his own actions as you were. “Better?” He tauntingly asked. With no time to respond, Anton reattached your lips, moving them in a steady, mesmerizing kiss. He was surprisingly good at this.
A hand of yours settled in his hair, giving it satisfying tugs every couple seconds. Desperate moans passed through the two of you, tongues intertwined. Anton quickly took advantage of this distraction and got to work unhooking your bra. The fabric fell loosely over your breasts, which he began caressing in a relaxed pace. Almost tracing the soft skin with his fingertips, noting the way you sighed and moaned against his tongue.
You should’ve known that he’d be knowledgeable about how to please a girl. He never went into anything unprepared, was a fast learner, and, for as long as you had been paying attention to him, was good at everything. Singing, playing guitar, swimming, watching over the kids, filling out reports. Why would this be any different?
His slender fingers unbuttoned your shorts, slipping under the hem of the thick garment down to your heat. They ventured across the covered, warm skin, getting the lay of the land. He was confident in his actions, reliable and assured. “You’re already wet,” he whispered against your lips. “Are you sure it’s not because of me?” Anton was still teasing you, only this time there was a hint of something else in his tone. Almost… hopeful.
He pushed your shorts and panties down, helping you kick them off. With his nose pressed to your neck, bottom half completely bare, the balmy air made your legs tremble in anticipation. All it took was a small swipe of his fingertips through your folds to have your thighs clamp around him. He pried them open, sliding his hands down your legs to your shins. By placing them on either side of his own widespread legs, he forced you to remain accessible to him. “Don’t move or I’ll stop, and we start all over again. Is that clear?”
You didn’t know what was more irritating: that Anton was talking to you as if you were one of the misbehaving campers or that you clenched around nothing at the sound of his authoritative voice. No wonder the kids always did as he said. You nodded and tucked your feet under the back of his legs, hoping it would be enough to keep you from moving.
Anton was right about being good with his hands. He had found your clit almost immediately, circling it carefully. You whined and whimpered like a bitch in heat. His smirk practically tangible the way you could feel it against your shoulder. Then after a while, he’d dip his fingertips into your entrance, collecting your essence to rub tighter, smoother circles around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Meanwhile, his other hand continued to drag across your ribcage, occasionally palming one of your breasts. Lips pressing against your ear.
“You’re so fucking small, tiny in my hands,” he mumbled. “Couldn’t even fit me.” As easy as his tone, he slipped two fingers inside you, burying them as far as they could. Fingertips reaching your cervix. He made it just over two knuckles deep. A vicious chuckle left his lips seeing you squirm from the intense curl of his fingers against your velvety walls. His thumb abusing your clit. You panted out his name. That coiling sensation building in your lower abdomen.
“Anton! Oh my… Anton. Feels so good. Don’t stop,” he mimicked your whiny fucked out tone. If he knew this was the way to get you to do as he said, he would’ve done this at the beginning of the summer. He might just have to remember this trick for when school starts. Then again, he wasn’t sure if his arms could handle any more scratch marks. To be fair, he did tell you not to move and your grip kept you from moving, though he could tell you wanted to buck your hips to match his pace. As hot as that would be, popping a boner in front of one of the most popular girls in school would lead to a major loss of aura. He was meant to be the calm and collected one, not the kind of dude that gives in to stupid primal instincts.
“What are— are you doing?” Anton stuttered unexpectedly as you slipped a hand underneath you to palm him through his shorts, fingers reaching for his fly.
With shuddered breaths you replied in a typical snarky manner. “I’ve been telling you to give me more for a minute but you haven’t been listening. Too busy getting hard at my pleasure.”
Something close to a growl escaped past his gritted teeth, adjusting the angle of his hand. “Still so bratty. Want more? Here. Take it like a good girl then.” He started drilling inside you with his fingers. The sensation both painful and pleasurable at the same time. You couldn’t help but let out a loud yelp. Especially when his teeth began nipping at your shoulder. Insufferable but sexy.
In the heat of it all, your hand tucked underneath his shorts and boxers, pulling him out of the confining garments. He was hot, thick, and leaking at the tip. Your fingers wrapped around his length and gave it a few tugs — a couple of sharp groans and expletives leaving his mouth in response — before trying to sit up. “Move your hand,” you demanded, yanking at his wrist. He frustratingly didn’t listen to you. “Just trust me for once, Anton. For gods sake.”
Surprisingly enough, he finally listened. The emptiness from his missing fingers was disturbing, but you knew they’d be replaced soon. “So, what’s the plan, Princess?” He shoved his fingers into your mouth, forcing you taste your own essence. You twisted your face away in feign disgust, spitting out his fingers. With a simple shrug, he placed them in his own mouth, sucking the rest of your sweetness. With the help of Anton’s oddly strong arm, you managed to press his length against your dripping heat. You both shared a relaxing sigh. The mutual release method proved to be successful.
While you grinded up against him, Anton helped you lift your hips with his arm. His other hand flicking your clit. For once you let your sounds of pleasure do the talking instead of your insulting voices. You came first with a whiny moan that Anton half laughed at. “My god. You squirted all over the blankets!” You didn’t have time to be embarrassed before Anton’s release. Soft voice coming out all strangled and hurt puppy-like. Whimpers and all. His come landing on your abdomen. Not that it mattered.
A tentatively pleased smile was etched on your face when you turned slightly to meet his beet red one. Your fingers ran through his disheveled hair. “Good boy,” you teased. Anton didn’t even argue or snap back. His teeth released his bottom lip in a half smile. Eyes glossy and bright as he peeled them open. The space between you was rather peaceful, all things being considered. Like you were finally seeing each other in a different light.
“We never tell anyone else about this,” you postulated, still catching your breath.
His thumb rubbed soft circles on your bare hip as he held you. “Of course, Princess. As long as you let me put it in during the next round.”
🍃 summary: after one reckless mistake too many, your parents send you away for the summer in hopes that a few months in the countryside with your grandmother might finally straighten you out. you fully intend to count down the days until you’re free again…right up until a bug loving little boy and his father begin making the mountains feel a little more like home.
❀ pairing: single dad!anton x f!reader
❀ genre: single parent au, slow burn, rich kid au, found family
❀ word count: 8.3k
⟶ chapter warnings: friendship conflict, slut-shaming, alcohol/drug references, sexual content, slight angst. let me know if anything is missing!
🌱a/n: chapter 8 will be released on wednesday of next week bc of my flight! the remaining chapters will be posted every friday at 12pm est unless stated otherwise.
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“Bye, I’ll be back later!” You call toward the empty hallway out of habit before remembering your grandmother left nearly an hour ago to have lunch with some of the women from her country club.
You pause in front of the foyer mirror, adjusting the thin straps of your top and smooth a hand over your stomach before reaching down for the tote bag resting by your feet. It’s heavier than it looks, stuffed with colored markers, glue sticks, construction paper, printed photographs and decorative supplies.
It’s been a week since the accident and Minyoung has adjusted to the bright green cast better than anyone expected. He hates needing assistance more than he hates the actual injury, growing pouty whenever someone reaches for a zipper, shoelace or cup before he has the chance to struggle with it himself.
During the first few days, both you and Anton kept stepping in automatically, only to be met with an increasingly irritated, “I can do it.” until the two of you learned to leave him alone. Now you stand nearby and pretend not to watch while he wrestles with whatever task he’s set his focus on, waiting until he quietly asks for help before interfering.
Writing with his left hand has been the hardest adjustment. His letters slant into each other, his numbers come out backwards and he presses down so hard that the pencil occasionally tears through the paper but he refuses to let Anton complete any of his schoolwork for him. Most evenings now, you sit at the kitchen table beside him and demonstrate each letter while he copies it.
His upcoming science fair has become a different source of frustration. Yebin originally volunteered to help with the project because she’s a biologist and Minyoung considers her to be the best scientist ever but she still hasn’t forgiven herself for what happened. She cries almost every time she sees his little cast, apologizing until even Minyoung has started getting annoyed on her behalf because he’s told her repeatedly that he doesn’t blame her.
Last night, he interrupted your usual nightly facetime with Anton by climbing into his father’s lap and stole the phone to ask if you could help instead. You agreed immediately, which earned you an excited gasp and the declaration that today would officially be another Minyoung and noona day. Anton had tried to remind him that his father was also perfectly capable of helping with a rhinoceros beetle project but Minyoung dismissed the offer without hesitation. Apparently Anton could provide snacks but he wasn’t allowed to touch a thing regarding his project.
You promised you would arrive early enough that the two of you could finish before lunch, which is why you’re already slipping your shoes on and reaching for the door. When you pull it open you stop dead in your tracks.
Maya stands on the porch with a white bakery box balanced in both hands while Harvey has one fist raised, clearly a second away from knocking. For a long moment, none of you says anything. Harvey’s hand drops awkwardly to her side and she gives you a small uncertain smile. “...Surprise?”
You look between them, your expression remaining flat despite the sudden confusion twisting through you. “Yeah…definitely a surprise. What are you doing here?” You ask.
Maya lifts the box as if the pastries explain why your two best friends have appeared outside your grandmother’s house without warning. “We flew all the way here. You could at least pretend you’re happy to see us.” She jokes.
You realize then you haven’t smiled once. The last time the three of you spoke, you slammed your laptop shut while Maya was still trying to justify why she’d reduced your feelings for Anton to some strange kink. Neither of them called afterward and you were too hurt to be the first one to reach out, though if you’re being honest, the fight had started slipping from your mind until now.
You’ve been too busy popping in and out of Anton’s house, learning how to help Minyoung scratch his arm under the cast and listening to the two of them bicker over whether a broken arm exempted him from bedtime. Still, these are Maya and Harvey. They’ve been your best friends for years, through bad breakups, through public scandals, family arguments and mornings when none of you could remember how the night before ended. The sight of them standing on the porch pulls at something beneath the lingering anger until despite yourself, the corner of your mouth lifts. “I am happy,” you admit. “I’m also confused.”
Harvey clears her throat and glances past you into the house. “Can we come in?”
Your grip shifts around the strap of your tote. For a moment, you consider telling them you’re already late but the apology you’ve been waiting for is standing directly in front of you holding pastries. You step aside reluctantly and let them enter. The three of you settle in the living room, Maya placing the box on the coffee table while Harvey chooses the armchair across from the couch. You sit near the end cushion with your tote still looped over one shoulder.
Maya looks at you for a few seconds before exhaling. “I’m sorry. What I said the last time we spoke wasn’t fair.”
Harvey nods quickly. “We were overly harsh.”
“Yeah, you were.” You say, not offering them an easier way out.
Maya’s mouth presses into a thin line but she doesn’t argue. Instead she nudges the box toward you. “Peace offering?”
You stare at it before letting out a dramatic sigh and finally slipping the tote from your shoulder. “You know I’ve always loved a good bribe.”
The tension breaks enough for all three of you to smile. Maya opens the box and immediately starts telling you everything you missed in Greece: the villa’s plumbing disaster, the yacht captain Maya flirted with for three days before finding out he was married, the beach club where Harvey disappeared with a French tourist.
They complain about how strange it felt doing everything without you, how they kept seeing things you would’ve liked. For five minutes, it feels normal again. You laugh at Maya’s recount of her latest tryst and steal a glazed donut, making a mental note to save the strawberry-frosted one for Minyoung.
Eventually Harvey brushes powdered sugar from her jeans and stands. “We should probably get going if we want to miss traffic.”
You rise too, surprised by how short the visit has been. “Leaving already?”
Maya laughs and closes the donut box. “Girl, what? You’re coming with us.”
Your head tilts. “Coming where?”
“We got tickets to an exclusive club in Seoul tonight,” Harvey says, already checking something on her phone. “We figured we could properly talk things out over drinks and early 2000’s throwbacks. There’s a hotel room booked too.”
Your face falls before you can hide it. “Oh…I can’t.”
Both of them look up. “I promised Minyoung I’d help with his project,” you explain, lifting your tote slightly. “It’s about rhinoceros beetles, he’s really excited.”
Maya stares at you as if she’s waiting for the punchline. When none comes, she lets out a short laugh. “Is that a joke?”
“No.”
She raises a brow. “You’d rather spend your Saturday gluing bug facts onto a poster board than come into the city with us?”
You adjust the strap over your shoulder again and nod. “I promised him.”
The thought of not showing up leaves an uncomfortable weight in your chest. Minyoung would be disappointed, even if he tried to pretend he understood for your sake and disappointing him would mean disappointing Anton too. Anton would never say it that way, he would probably insist the project could wait and tell you to enjoy your friends but you know how much it meant to him that you agreed without hesitation.
You know how carefully he’s been navigating letting Minyoung rely on you and fearing that reliance might one day become too much.
Maya’s expression changes as she watches you. The amusement disappears first, followed by whatever warmth remained from the apology. “When are you going to wake up?”
Harvey closes her eyes briefly, already recognizing where this is going. “Maya.”
“No, because we flew here to talk sense into her and she’s standing here acting like this is normal!” Maya closes the donut box harder than necessary and turns fully toward you. “He’s twenty-three with a seven year old son, ____. Wake up!”
Your defenses rise just as fast. “Maya, don’t.”
“You like cotton-candy cosmopolitans at ten in the morning. You can’t spend ten minutes around your own nieces without one of them crying. You can barely take care of yourself, you don’t even fucking drive and now you’re rearranging your whole life around some man and his kid!"
She gestures toward the tote where some supplies are spilling out from how packed it is on your shoulder. “His mother is back. You told us that yourself. What do you think happens when Minyoung decides he wants his parents together and starts parent trapping them every chance he gets? What happens when Anton realizes having his actual family back is easier than trying to fit you into it? Please come to your senses!”
You scoff, beyond offended. “Why can’t you just accept that this is what I want? I’m happy, Maya!”
“He has a kid, ____!”
The words ring through the living room. For one second, nobody moves. Maya’s chest rises and falls too quickly before she drags both hands over her face, trying and failing to pull herself back under control. When she speaks again, her voice is softer but no less harsh. “He has a kid who needs responsible adults in his life. I’m not saying this to be a bitch but that isn’t you.”
It’s almost impressive how Maya manages to go for the jugular each time. Harvey shifts beside her, uncomfortable but not disagreeing, which somehow hurts worse.
“At this point Wonbin is a better option,” Maya adds desperately, grasping for whatever comparison might finally make you listen. “He doesn’t have much going for him but at least he isn’t somebody’s father. You’ve been seeing him for three years anyway, why not just make it official?”
You recoil so visibly that Harvey winces. “Are you hearing yourself? Wonbin and I had a friends with benefits arrangement that served its purpose. It’s over. He wouldn’t make a decent boyfriend because all he ever cares about is getting his dick wet and even when we agreed to be exclusive so neither of us caught anything he still slept with other girls!”
You look between them in disbelief, your voice climbing despite your effort to control it. “You would rather I be with a guy who didn’t respect me enough to keep one basic agreement than Anton, who has never done anything to intentionally hurt me and has helped me become a better person, simply because Anton has a child?”
Harvey picks at the stitching of your grandmother's couch. “Why are you fighting so hard for this? You don’t even like kids.”
You pause. You’ve never said you hate children, you’ve just never known what to do with them. You don’t coo at babies in restaurants or imagine names for children you might have someday. Minyoung is the exception. “I don’t hate kids—”
“Let me guess,” Maya cuts in bitterly. “Minyoung is different? Fuck, ____, you’ve let this man turn you into a Stepford wife.”
You swear you could hear a pin drop after that.
The words sit between the three of you, ugly enough that even Maya looks briefly startled by them but nobody backs down. There’s no immediate apology, no attempt from Harvey to correct her. Your eyes burn and you hate them for making you want to cry, hate yourself more for the fact that some part of you still wishes they would stop and hold you instead.
“I don’t shame either of you for sleeping with five different guys in a week. I don’t make you feel like selfish bitches for choosing things that make you happy. I don’t lecture you every time you get so drunk you can’t remember who carried you home or tell you you’re wasting your lives because you don’t want the things I want. Why can’t you just support me?”
Neither of them answers. Harvey’s face softens but it isn’t enough. You can feel tears gathering and try to blink them away, furious that you have to beg your closest friends for the bare minimum of kindness. “Even if you’re right,” you continue, your voice wavering despite your best effort, “even if this is a mistake and one day Anton wakes up and decides he wants some complete family with Jia, why can’t you just smile and say you’re happy for me? Why can’t you say you hope it works out? Lie to me! That would hurt less than this.”
Maya looks devastated but she still shakes her head. “I’ve never lied to you and I’m not going to start now. This isn’t you.”
You stare at her for a long moment and realize that she genuinely believes it. She thinks Anton took the friend she knew and replaced her, she thinks the woman standing before her is some temporary replacement Anton created for some fantasy. She thinks the ‘real’ version of you is still waiting beneath all this, desperate to be dragged back to Stanford, handed a drink and reminded of the fun you used to have.
“I think this is the first time I’ve actually been me.”
For two months, no one here has asked you to be Stanford’s Princess. Nobody has introduced you as the disappointing daughter of one of America’s wealthiest CEOs. Nobody looks ot you to be the girl splashed across magazines or reduces you to the girl Wonbin calls whenever he’s bored and high enough to feel lonely. In the mountains of Korea, you are simply yourself.
The girl who enjoys bug hunts with a seven-year-old even despite hating touching the bugs. The girl who looks forward to garden days, quiet dinners and late-night calls with a single father even when neither of you has anything left to say. The girl who learned that she likes being needed when the people needing her don’t treat her as property. You came here convinced you had been exiled from your real life, only to find something in these mountains that feels more like home than anything you left behind.
Harvey’s voice is barely audible when she says, “You never told us that.”
You shrug, one tear finally slipping free despite your effort to hold it back. “You guys enjoyed the party girl as much as the media did.”
The words hit them both. Maya looks like you’ve slapped her and Harvey drops her gaze to the floor but neither of them has an answer that could fix what has already been said. You walk toward the front door and pull it open, wiping the tear from your cheek with the heel of your hand before turning back to them.
“Get out.”
Harvey looks up sharply. “You’re kicking us out?”
You nod calmly, though you feel anything but calm. “I have a seven-year-old waiting for me to glue bug facts on to a poster board, so yes. You can go.”
Maya reaches for you with shaking hands. “____—”
“Don’t come back until you’re ready to properly apologize and accept that this is what I want.” You step aside, leaving the doorway open for them. “You don’t have to understand it but you don’t get to keep making me feel ashamed for it.”
Neither of them argues. Harvey walks out first, her face drawn tight with hurt and Maya follows. At the end of the porch she looks back like she expects you to change your mind but you don’t. You close the door before either of them reaches their car, lean against it for one unsteady breath and then force yourself upright. Your tote is still waiting near the couch, Minyoung’s rhinoceros beetle supplies tucked safely inside. You pick it up, wipe beneath your eyes one final time and leave through the same door, making the short walk toward Anton’s house once you’ve made sure Maya and Harvey have left.
By the time you reach Anton’s house, the anger that carried you through your short walk has already started to burn itself out. Your eyes still sting, your throat feels tight and every few steps Maya’s words float around your head and make you wish you had said something crueler before throwing them out.
You barely make it halfway up the walkway before the front door opens and Anton steps outside, one hand still wrapped around the doorknob. He smiles at first, clearly ready to tease you about the oversized tote dragging down your shoulder but the expression disappears almost immediately once he gets a proper look at your face.
His brows pull together as his eyes move over you, lingering on the redness around your eyes. “Hey,” he says softly, stepping down from the porch. “Everything okay?” You try to nod and tell him you’re fine, that you got something in your eye but your chin wobbles before you can form the lie and Anton’s face falls. He doesn’t bombard you with questions or make you explain yourself on the walkway. He only opens his arms.
You walk straight into him and bury your face against his chest, gripping the back of his shirt while his arms close securely around you. One hand settles between your shoulder blades and begins rubbing slowly up and down your back while the other rests at the back of your head, holding you close. Anton presses a kiss against your forehead and lets you cry quietly into him, never commenting on the way your breathing stutters or the tears dampening his shirt. He only murmurs that you’re okay and that he’s got you.
When you finally pull back, embarrassed by how quickly you fell apart, Anton lifts one hand and wipes beneath your eye with his thumb before asking, “Do you want to talk about it?” You glance toward his home automatically, already imagining Minyoung emerging from somewhere to ask why you’re crying but Anton follows your gaze and reassures you that he’s still asleep. “He still hasn’t woken up yet. No interruptions if you want to talk.” He says, giving you a small smile.
You wipe at your cheeks with the back of your hand and nod, allowing him to take the tote from your shoulder before he intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you inside.
Anton places the tote near the coffee table and sits beside you on the couch and opens one arm so you can tuck yourself into his side. You curl against him, your knees drawn slightly inward while his hand resumes those slow, absentminded circles against your upper arm. He doesn’t rush you to speak or fill the silence. He simply waits, his chin resting lightly against the top of your head while you collect your thoughts and try to decide where the story even begins.
“It started last week…maybe two weeks ago at this point.” you say eventually, struggling to remember how much time has actually passed. “After Jia showed up.”
Anton’s hand slows but doesn’t stop and you tell him everything from there: calling Maya and Harvey because you had been hurt and embarrassed after he asked you to leave, Maya accusing you of living in some domestic fantasy, Harvey saying you hadn’t changed enough for a life involving him and Minyoung and the way the argument ended with your closest friends acting as though your feelings were so absurd they had to be some kink.
You explain how none of you reached out afterward and how they appeared at your grandmother’s house today with donuts and an apology that lasted less than ten minutes before turning into another attempt to drag you back into the life they believed suited you better. You tell him about the club, even Wonbin and how Maya insisted he was somehow the safer option simply because he didn’t have a child. By the time you repeat the Stepford wife comment, Anton’s jaw has tightened and his thumb has stopped moving altogether.
When you finish, Anton looks down at you for a moment before carefully asking, “Do you want me to just listen or do you want my honest opinion?”
You hesitate before answering, “Both, I guess.”
Anton nods and gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Then first, what they said was mean. Even if they’re scared for you, they don't have the right to make you feel stupid or ashamed. Especially not after you already told them it hurt.”
Some of the tension leaves your body at finally being validated and you rest your cheek more fully against his chest while he continues. “I also don’t think they flew across the world because they don’t care about you. The way they handled it was awful but it sounds like they’re scared because they don’t understand what changed or when it happened. They’re looking at your life from the outside and all they see is their friend suddenly rearranging her plans around a man with a kid and a complicated ex.”
You lift your head immediately, offense flaring again. “Anton, they were not just concerned. Maya called me a Stepford wife and practically said I’m too irresponsible to be around Minyoung.”
Anton nods rather than arguing. “I know and I’m not defending that. They owe you a real apology.” He brushes a stray tear away from your damp cheek before adding, “I’m saying I understand why they have questions.”
You stare at him still angry but Anton only raises his brows slightly. “Think about it, angel. My parents had questions too when Minyoung first started talking about you all the time. They like you but they wondered whether you understood what being close to him could eventually mean.”
Your shoulders fall as you take in his words and Anton gives you a faint smile. “They weren’t nearly as blunt as your friends but they had comments. Sohee did too. Everyone who cares about either of us has probably wondered whether our lives actually fit together.”
You sit with that for some time, turning his words over. The longer you think about it, the harder it becomes to stay mad because you know Maya and Harvey. They've been there through every public humiliation, every headline, every drunken phone call at three in the morning. It isn't fair to pretend they only loved the version of you that stumbled out of clubs at sunrise. They had been wrong in how they spoke to you but Anton is right about one thing: they didn't fly all this way because they stopped caring. Their fear does not excuse their cruelty but it does give you perspective. “I still think they were horrible,” you mutter after a while.
Anton’s mouth twitches. “They were.”
You look up at him. “And they owe me an apology.”
He nods. “A big one.”
The immediate agreement pulls the smallest laugh from you and Anton smiles, squeezing your shoulder again. “But if you know you’re happy, you don’t have to feel guilty because the people who love you need time to catch up. You’re allowed to change. You’re allowed to want something they never imagined for you.”
Your gaze drops to his mouth before you can stop it. It’s been far too long since the two of you shared a kiss, especially considering every moment alone since then has involved Minyoung planted firmly between the two of you.
Anton catches you staring and one corner of his mouth lifts. “My eyes are up here, pretty girl.”
Heat creeps up your neck at being caught but rather than looking away you let your gaze remain exactly where it is. “I know where your eyes are,” you say shifting closer until your knee presses against his thigh. “I’m just more interested in something else.”
Anton’s eyebrows rise, clearly amused by how quickly your mood has changed and his hand that isn’t on your shoulder rises to grip your chin. “Oh? Really?”
You nod and bite down on your bottom lip. “It’s been a week.”
He laughs softly through his nose and tilts your face upward. “You’ve been counting?” You open your mouth to deny it but Anton kisses you before you get the chance.
The kiss is soft at first, cautious after seeing you cry but you lean into him and fist one hand in the front of his shirt, making it clear you do not need him to handle you delicately. Anton responds immediately, his hand sliding from your chin to the side of your neck as he kisses you deeper. You turn further into him until your body is half draped across his, your free hand slipping into his hair while his arm tightens around your waist.
You part your lips slightly, letting him deepen the kiss. His tongue brushes against yours and a quiet whimper escapes your throat, the sound swallowed by his kiss. Anton’s grip tightens, one hand sliding down to your waist as he pulls you impossibly closer. You barely register the quiet creak from upstairs until Anton pauses, his lips still brushing yours as he tilts his head toward the staircase. “Did you hear that?” You don’t get the chance to answer before Minyoung’s bedroom door opens and small footsteps begin pounding down the hallway.
The two of you spring apart so quickly you nearly slide off the couch. Anton drags one hand over his mouth while you smooth down your top and try to slow your breathing before Minyoung appears at the bottom of the staircase with unruly bedhead, his green cast held protectively against his chest.
The second he sees you, his whole face lights up. “Noona!” he squeals, racing across the living room before either of you can warn him not to run. He launches himself onto the couch and directly into your arms, forcing himself into the small space between you and Anton.
You laugh and steady him while Anton watches his son wedge himself firmly between the two of you with disbelief. “Seriously?” he asks. Minyoung ignores him, wrapping his good arm around your waist and cuddling close.
Anton reaches around him in an attempt to reclaim your hand only for Minyoung to smack it away and turn toward his father with a deep frown. “Daddy, stop. She’s mine.”
Anton looks down at his hand and then back at Minyoung, pressing his hand dramatically against his chest. “Ow! That really hurt my feelings.”
Minyoung turns to look at him for a moment, visibly torn between sympathy and his commitment to keeping you for himself, before letting out a long sigh and patting Anton’s thigh. “It’s Minyoung and noona day. Daddy can play with Noona later.”
You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing at the phrasing while Anton looks over Minyoung’s head at you with one eyebrow raised smugly. Minyoung is already turning back toward you, all traces of sleep gone as he asks whether you brought the printed beetle pictures and the neon markers.
You assure him that everything is in the tote and he gasps excitedly before sliding off the couch and grabbing your hand. “Ready?” he asks. You nod and let him begin tugging you toward the hallway but Minyoung stops to glance back at Anton. “Daddy, can you make breakfast?”
Anton leans back against the couch and crosses his arms, pretending to consider whether either of you deserves to be fed after the disrespect he has endured in his own home. Minyoung waits expectantly, still holding your hand until Anton finally sighs and pushes himself to his feet. “Of course I can. Are waffles okay?” Minyoung nods happily and thanks him before pulling you toward the small craft room Anton created for him, already talking rapidly about where each section of the poster should go.
Anton watches the two of you disappear down the hallway before shaking his head and heading toward the kitchen, still smiling despite being demoted to food duty.
Thirty minutes later, Anton appears in the doorway carrying a tray with two plates stacked with waffles, berries and scrambled eggs, along with a glass of orange juice for you and one of Minyoung’s spill-proof cups tucked awkwardly beneath his arm. Minyoung perks up immediately at the smell of food, his focus already shifting.
Anton sets the plates down on the small craft table and reminds both of you not to get syrup anywhere near the project. You assure him that you two are being extremely cautious. He hums skeptically before crouching to press a kiss to the top of Minyoung’s head then brushes one against your temple while Minyoung isn’t looking. “I’ll be in my office if you need anything,” he says, lingering in the doorway.
Minyoung waves him away with his casted hand. “We have everything.” Anton looks at you for confirmation and you lift your fork in a small salute before he finally leaves, shaking his head as he heads toward the room at the end of the hall.
While the two of you eat, Minyoung explains to you how he wants to break up his project. The left side will be the rhinoceros beetle life cycle, the middle will explain what they eat and where they live and the right side will be reserved for interesting facts that other people might not know.
You watch as Minyoung works the scissors with his left hand, tongue poking slightly from the corner of his mouth with concentration. You keep your hands to yourself and wait until he slides the paper in your direction, finally asking for help.
By the time Anton returns to collect the plates, Minyoung has syrup on one cheek and paper letters stuck to the sleeve of his pj's. Anton takes in the scene with visible amusement before gathering the dishes. “You sure you don’t need another set of hands? I can help glue while you two cut.” He asks.
Minyoung shakes his head adamantly. “No. Daddy can help us clean when we finish.”
Anton closes his eyes briefly like he’s summoning patience. “Of course I csn.” He says before checking if we need anything else before he leaves.
Minyoung watches him leave, waiting until Anton has disappeared down the hallway before whispering, “Daddy is dramatic.”
You bite back a laugh and lower your voice to match his. “Very.”
The two of you settle back into work once the dishes are gone, the room filling with the sounds of markers and the occasional snip of scissors. Minyoung colors one of the beetle illustrations while you arrange the cut-out letters across the poster. Every few minutes he asks for your opinion on a color or whether a fact sounds interesting enough.
The conversation drifts naturally from beetles to school then to Yuna, who apparently wore her hair in two braids yesterday and shared her mango gummies with him during snack time. Minyoung tries to sound casual while telling you this but the pink creeping across his cheeks betrays him.
You tease him until he hides his face behind his cast and tells you to stop. Once he recovers, he goes back to shading the beetle’s shell and says, “Yebin-noona brings uncle Sohee snacks too.”
You hum, pressing one of the printed labels onto the poster. “That’s because she’s a cool girlfriend.”
Minyoung’s marker slows. “Girlfriend?”
You glance up and find him frowning at his poster. “Mhm.”
“What’s a girlfriend?”
You pause, realizing you’ve never actually had to explain something like that before. “Um…” You tap the glue stick against your chin for a second. “You know how you’re my favorite little bug?”
He nods. “Well…a girlfriend is kind of like your favorite person.”
He considers it for a second. “Like daddy?”
You smile. “Kinda. Somebody you really like spending time with. You get excited when you see them, you miss them when they’re gone, you want to make them happy…stuff like that.”
Minyoung nods slowly, seemingly satisfied with the explanation before another thought occurs to him. “So uncle Sohee is Yebin-noona’s favorite person?”
“Probably.”
“Is Yebin-noona uncle Sohee’s favorite person?” He asks.
You laugh. “I think she’d be very upset if she wasn’t.”
He nods to himself and continues coloring for another few seconds before asking, “Do girlfriends stay forever?”
The question catches you off guard enough that your glue stick pauses above the paper. You look over at him but Minyoung keeps his eyes lowered, filling in the same small section of the beetle’s wing even though it is already fully colored. “Sometimes, not always. Why?” You answer carefully.
He shrugs one shoulder, still refusing to look at you. “Yebin-noona is always with uncle Sohee.”
You nod. “That’s true.”
“And she comes to birthdays and family stuff.” He adds.
You press the label into place slowly, beginning to understand where this is going but deciding not to rush him. “She does.”
Minyoung finally glances up through his glasses. “Are you daddy’s girlfriend?”
For a second you only stare at him. The answer isn’t as straightforward as you’d like. You like him, you know he likes you, you’ve kissed but nothing has been made official. You set the glue stick down and turn toward him more fully. “No, bug. Your dad and I are just friends.” You hesitate before adding, “Why do you ask?”
Minyoung gives another small shrug and returns to his coloring. “I like having you here.”
The softness in his voice makes you want to give him anything he wants. You watch him carefully outline one of the beetle’s legs. After a moment he says, “maybe if you date daddy, you can stay forever like Yebin-noona and uncle Sohee.”
You look down at the poster because looking directly at him makes your heart stutter at the fact that he’s just offered you a permanent position in his life. “Is that what you want?” you ask quietly.
Minyoung looks up and smiles before nodding. “Yeah!”
You let out a breathy laugh and reach over to smooth down a corner of construction paper that has begun to lift off the board. “What if your daddy doesn’t want me to be his girlfriend?”
That makes Minyoung stop coloring entirely. His brows knit together as he considers the possibility. For several seconds he says nothing then he straightens his back and puffs out his chest. “Then I’ll be your boyfriend!”
The confidence in his answer pulls a genuine laugh from you, loud enough that Minyoung immediately begins smiling too. You lean closer and lower your voice. “Oh, really? Me or Yuna?”
His entire face changes. The confidence disappears quickly and is replaced by a deep blush that spreads from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. Minyoung looks down at the marker in his hand and fidgets with the cap. “Sorry, Noona,” he says after a long, painful pause. “Yuna.”
You laugh even harder, reaching over to squeeze his knee. “I understand, bug. I won’t stand in the way of true love.”
Minyoung looks relieved by your forgiveness and goes back to coloring. “Daddy likes you anyway.”
Your laughter fades into a softer smile. “You think so?”
He nods his head so hard you worry for his brain. “He always smiles when you're here and he fixes his hair before you come over. He’s just shy. Like me.”
You glance toward the hallway leading to Anton’s office, suddenly picturing him standing in front of a mirror fixing his hair before opening the door for you and have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep your smile from growing too obvious. “Maybe,” you concede.
Minyoung nods, satisfied that the matter has been settled and returns to his project. The two of you work for another hour, cutting, gluing and rearranging until the board finally looks like something he can proudly present. He insists on signing both of your names in the bottom corner because you helped. By the time you finish, he’s a yawning mess slump against your shoulder.
You clean up as much as you can with Minyoung leaning against you, returning markers to their case and stacking the remaining construction paper while he argues that he’s not tired. You eventually convince him to let you take him upstairs, promising the project will still be waiting when he wakes up.
He nods without much resistance and lets you carry him to his bedroom. Once he’s beneath the covers, you adjust the pillow beneath his cast and remove his glasses, placing them safely on the nightstand. Minyoung mumbles something about showing Anton the finished beetle facts later then curls onto his side and falls asleep before you can properly answer.
You stay kneeling beside his bed for a little, watching him sleep and make sure he’s truly comfortable before quietly slipping out of the room. You head back downstairs towards Anton’s office now that the house his quieter with Minyoung sleeping. You find Anton bent over his desk with several large sheets of paper spread across the surface filled with neat lines, shaded garden plans and handwritten measurements. Anton has one sleeve pushed up to his elbow and a pencil tucked behind his ear while another moves across the page in his hand, his attention is so fixed that he doesn’t notice you standing there.
For a few seconds, you simply watch him work, taking in the concentration on his face and the small furrow between his brows before finally tapping your knuckles against the doorframe.
Anton looks up immediately, surprise fading into a smile when he sees you. “Finished already?”
You lean one shoulder against the frame. “Project manager passed out from exhaustion.”
He laughs softly and sets the pencil down. “Did you at least finish?”
You hum. “Barely. Just gotta proof read a few more sections and paste them on the board.”
Anton’s smile widens as he leans back in his chair and looks you over. “Come here.”
You push away from the doorframe and cross the room, expecting Anton to simply make space for you beside his desk. Instead, the second you reach him one hand circles your wrist while the other settles against your waist and he tugs you forward until you stumble into him.
You let out a startled laugh as he guides you into his lap, wrapping one arm securely around your middle. The office chair creaks beneath the added weight but Anton only shifts until you are sitting comfortably, his left hand beginning slow circles against your hip while you reach up to remove the pencil tucked behind his ear.
“You know there was an empty chair right there,” you point out, gesturing toward the other side of the desk. Anton glances toward it briefly before returning his attention to you.
“Too far.” He says simply causing you to blush. You busy yourself by placing the pencil on his desk before turning back and playing with the edge of his collar between your fingers.
Anton lets you play with the fabric for a few seconds before his free hand rises to catch yours, threading his fingers loosely through them without pulling your hand away from him. “So what did you two talk about while working?” he asks, his thumb tracing over your knuckles.
You smile and continue rubbing the soft material of his collar between your fingertips. “Your son asked me a very serious question.”
Anton’s brows lift in interest and you explain how the conversation moved from Yuna’s braids and mango gummies to Sohee bringing Yebin snacks then somehow to the meaning of girlfriends and whether they stayed forever.
Anton’s expression changes slowly as he listens, amusement fading into something more thoughtful when you tell him Minyoung asked if you were his girlfriend.
“What did you say?” he asks.
You look down to where your fingers are tangled with his and answer honestly. “I told him we’re friends. I didn’t really know what else to call this.”
Anton nods once, giving nothing away so you continue before the silence can become uncomfortable. “He said he likes having me here and that maybe if I dated you…I could stay forever like Yebin and Sohee.”
His hand goes still at your waist and when you finally lift your eyes, Anton is watching you with an expression you can’t read. “He said that?”
You nod and tell him the rest, how Minyoung offered to become your boyfriend if Anton refused and then immediately abandoned you for Yuna when forced to choose. Anton laughs hard and tips his head back against the chair. “At least he was honest,” Anton says.
“Brutally.” You pretend to look wounded and Anton squeezes your fingers in sympathy.
His smile falls a bit after a moment, some seriousness coming back to his features. “Do you want to?”
The question catches you off guard and your hand stops moving against his collar. “Want to what?” you ask, though some part of you already knows.
Anton’s gaze stays on your face as his thumb resumes its gentle path over the side of your hip. “Stay.”
Your eyes drift toward the windows overlooking his garden. You think of Minyoung signing your name to the bottom of his project, of library days and bedtime calls and how naturally you've started leaving things here without realizing it. You think of Anton fixing his hair before you arrive and the way he makes you feel safe and wanted.
The answer should be easy because yes, you want to stay. You want it so much that the thought frightens you but Maya and Harvey’s words still echo in the back of your head. You lower your gaze to your joined hands. “I still have school,” you say instead, hating the cop out. “I have to go back to Stanford at the end of August and finish my last year. I can’t just disappear and pretend none of that exists.”
Anton nods immediately. “Of course. I’d never ask you to give that up.” You look up at his face and see that there’s no disappointment on his face. He only grips your fingers more securely and adds, “You should finish. You’ve worked too hard not to.”
The two of you don’t speak about the end of August. Neither of you knows what happens after that, whether the feelings growing between you can survive 5,735 miles or whether Minyoung can understand why someone he’s asked to stay forever still has to leave. Anton doesn’t push for an answer and you’re grateful because you don’t have one to offer.
The silence stretches until it begins to feel uncomfortable so you search for something easier to talk about. “You know, your son's asleep and I'm in your lap yet you haven’t made a single move. I’m beginning to think you’ve lost interest.”
His hand slides from your hip to the small of your back as he leans closer, his breath warming your mouth before he answers. “You know that isn’t true.”
You smirk. “Yeah? Prove it.”
Anton smirks in response and leans in to kiss you. He slips his tongue into your mouth right away and his hands fall down to your hips, pushing up your t-shirt to feel the softness of your stomach beneath his palms. You drag your right arm over his chest and your left hand slips into the hair at the nape of his neck. Anton exhales sharply when you tug, his lips leaving yours only long enough to trail along your jaw. You shift again, trying to get closer despite there being nowhere left to go.
Anton’s hands tighten at your waist before he stands with you still held against him. You gasp and cling to his shoulders, though he only moves far enough to settle you onto the edge of his desk. Several sketches crumple beneath you and you glance down, momentarily horrified knowing how much work goes into sketching. “Anton, your work–” He looks at the sheets trapped beneath your thighs then at you and sweeps the remaining plans to the other side of the desk without hesitation.
“I can redraw them.” The answer sends another wave of desire through you. His right hand knocks your knees apart and he steps between them and kisses you again, right hand braced beside your hip while the other slides slowly up your thigh. You pull away and lean back against your palms, letting your head tip when his mouth travels down your neck and pauses just below your ear. “You’re very distracting,” he murmurs against your skin.
“You told me to come here,” you remind him breathlessly. Anton smiles against your throat before lowering himself, his lips pressing along your collarbone, then down over the exposed skin above your top.
“So pretty,” He whispers against your chest. You shiver, overly sensitive. Anton buries his face between your breasts, letting your breasts encompass his face as he kisses along your sternum, just above the hem of your bra.
“A-Anton.” you moan.
“Mhm…what do you need, pretty girl?” Anton asks. You blink, your mind short circuiting before you feel his fingers gently trail along your sides and over your back. Instead of responding, you arch your back letting him fumble around with your bra clasp for a few moments before he unhooks it and tosses it to the floor.
You gasp as he slips his hands under your shirt and rubs his thumbs over your nipples. He tugs yours shirt up exposing your breast before leaning his head down to hover over your left nipple. Your breath stutters at the warmth as he opens his mouth to ask. “This okay?”
You nod eagerly, “Y-yeah.”
He shifts himself slightly as he kisses your breast, sucking and biting. You whimper when his tongue pokes and prods your sensitive nipple, tongue swirling against the hardened bud. Your breath catches when he pulls away and drops to his knees in front of you. His hands slide from your breasts to settle against the outside of your thighs and his eyes lift to yours, giving you every opportunity to stop him.
You don’t. Instead, your fingers slide into his hair as he presses a kiss to the inside of one knee then another slightly higher. Your heartbeat stutters with every inch he gets closer, the sight of him between your legs far more overwhelming than you expected.
Anton’s mouth moves slowly along your thigh, unhurried and deliberate, while your grip tightens around the ends of his hair as he gets closer to your core. You barely notice the first ring of the doorbell. Neither of you moves, both silently agreeing that whoever it is can leave whatever they brought and go.
The bell rings a second time, longer and more insistent. “Ignore it,” you whisper, tugging lightly at his hair when he pauses.
Anton glances toward the office door before pressing another kiss higher along your thigh as though he’s decided to take your advice. “Trying to,” he murmurs, his voice close enough to send a shiver through you. The bell sounds for a third time and is followed by several hard knocks against the front door. Anton exhales against your skin and rests his forehead briefly against your leg in defeat. “I’m sorry.”
You groan and lean farther back on your hands. “Hurry up.”
He rises reluctantly, smoothing both hands over your thighs before leaning in to steal one last kiss. “Don’t move!”
You hum in agreement and watch him leave the office, expecting him to return before you have enough time to recover from the interruption.
A minute passes, then another. You straighten your top and look around his office, listening for Anton’s footsteps but hearing voices instead. You can’t make out what is being said, though you can start to hear voices raising. The exchange continues to grow until you can clearly hear, “look dude, I was only paid to serve you.”
Your stomach drops at the word serve. A second later the front door slams hard enough to echo through the house and you slide off the desk, suddenly far more concerned about who was at the door.
You adjust your shorts and walk toward the foyer, finding Anton standing with his back to you. One hand rests against his hip while the other grips several folded pages hard enough to wrinkle them beneath his fingers. His shoulders rise and fall in unrestrained anger.
“Anton? What’s wrong?” You ask cautiously. He turns at the sound of your voice, anger and disbelief lighting up his face then shakes his head as if he still can’t make sense of what he’s holding. Without speaking, he walks to you and extends the papers.
You take them carefully and unfold the first sheet, your eyes catch on the bold heading before anything else.
PETITION FOR JOINT LEGAL AND PHYSICAL CUSTODY.
Your fingers tighten around the paper as you read Jia’s name beneath it, followed by Minyoung’s and Anton’s. When you finally look back up, Anton is staring past you toward the stairs that lead to his son's room, his jaw clenched. He lets out one short, humorless breath and drags a hand over his face before forcing the words out.
soulmate au | sci-fi au | romantic fluff/suggestive/a little angst
ACT ONE: I Know You
“Honey, I’ll call you back once I’m inside the room. Okay, love you. Bye.” You felt his longing stare the second you got off the phone with your fiancé. The hotel lobby was a large space, but suddenly it felt a bit claustrophobic. The hair at the back of your neck sticking up. A sinking feeling in your stomach. You began twisting your head around, searching for the source of your sudden discomfort. It didn’t take long to find him.
He was sat in the waiting area. White striped button up tucked into light washed jeans. A little casual for the setting though it did look nice on him. He was handsome with a face you would’ve remembered seeing had you seen it before.
Your rational brain told you to head to the counter, check in, and forget about the strange man. But there was something oddly familiar about him. As if you had met him before, despite being almost certain that you hadn’t. He scrambled to his feet, staring at you like he knew you. Perhaps he was one of your fiancé’s clients or an old classmate from college. The son of one of your mom’s friends.
Without thinking your feet slowly made their way over to this mystery man same a his, meeting him halfway. “Y/N?” His tone soft and wary, as if he were afraid of scaring you off. A tentative fondness in his eyes.
“Do… do I know you?” You asked in a slight daze. The moment felt surreal like something out of a dream. It became clear that this wasn’t someone you had met before. This was something different. A deeper connection that you couldn’t put to words.
His smile was genuine and sweet. Warmth spreading across your chest at the sight. A similar smile forming on your face. “Kind of, in another life.” Vague words and timid tenderness weren’t enough to make sense of it all. A part of you was still itching to walk away, but your feet stayed put. Body and mind caught in a haze as he slowly reached for your hand. “May I? Just for a second.”
The moment his skin brushed yours it was as if the whole world suddenly had a soft glow, smoothing out the harsh edges. A tingling sensation took over your entire body. Colors got brighter, the air was easier to breathe, and all at once, for the first time in your life, you felt you were truly at the right place at the right time.
His thumb gently rubbed over a birthmark of yours on your upper arm. “Extraordinary!” The man breathed out in quiet excitement. “It really is you.” His warm eyes glanced over you adoringly.
“It’s wonderful that you know who I am. That still doesn’t explain who you are.” He chuckled as if you said something really funny. Maybe he was an escaped mental hospital patient. Completely out of his mind.
“I’m sorry, I just can’t believe it’s actually you.” He removed his hand, everything growing dull and empty in its wake. “Allow me to introduce myself properly. My name is Shotaro Osaki and I’m,” he lifted his sleeve, revealing an exact replica of your birthmark on his skin, “I’m your soulmate.”
ACT TWO: I Understand You
It sounded ridiculous at first: your “soulmate” stranded here after going through an interdimensional portal that you hadn’t even invented yet. You were mere seconds away from calling an institution. But then Shotaro began relating different facts about your life, your childhood, family secrets you never told anyone, including your fiancé. He knew how you got every scar. Your deepest and sincerest feelings about things. Details from your work at the lab no one ever paid attention to. He apparently did.
You understood why the you from the other dimension fell so hard for him. While others heard what they wanted to hear, established preconceptions about you that they held onto for life, he genuinely listened. Even to the dark and bad stuff you tried to hide. He embraced those parts of you fully, loving you more for them.
“And here is our bedroom. You get up earlier than me and try not to wake me up, but you always manage to talk aloud to yourself about work.” You laughed knowingly. Your fiancé claimed the same thing, but he wasn’t nearly as understanding about it. It was refreshing to have someone that understood you in ways that other didn’t.
You had looked into the science behind the portal. It was possible to send Shotaro back. He was desperate to return to you. “My Y/N,” he’d often say with the wistfulness of a separated lover. The first major set back was the fact that you needed to set the portal up in the same place as the other dimension: in your shared apartment. After a long hassle, having to do with research grants and bullshit about wind patterns, you managed to snag the renovated apartment before anyone else could.
“And this room,” he paused, once again seeing things you couldn’t. An existence that wasn’t yours. The room was set up as an office space, but you suspected that it was something different in his memory. “This room we turned into a nursery.” His expression turned somber for a moment. “We’ve been trying for a baby, but we haven’t been blessed yet.” You reached for his shoulder, sharing his quiet frustration. Suddenly, you had the strong urge to give him what he wanted. You could only imagine the pain of both soulmates desperately wanting something and being told by the universe they weren’t ready.
It was hard to not cross boundaries with Shotaro. Your immediate affection towards him burned for something more. More emotional connection, more physical contact. You felt like the only person of value in the world when you were around him. And yet, you were aiding his escape from your life. The same confusion lied in his mind. In the moments when he forgot you weren’t his Y/N, he’d brush your hair away from your face, hold your hand like it was natural to do so, and even kiss you a couple times on the lips. Each action was punctuated by a genuine apology of misjudgment.
“I’m sorry,” he pulled his mouth apart from yours. You had managed to get the portal to work. The kiss was one of excitement. After a week spent with Shotaro, laughing, comparing his reality to yours, sharing your favorite meals, the moment was bittersweet. He was everything you’d could ever ask for in a romantic partner, and now you would never see him again. It was completely irrational. He had his own life, own marriage to get back to. And you had your own fiancé you had been avoiding. Yet you would do almost anything to make Shotaro stay.
“It’s okay,” you whispered, staring deeply into his eyes. Something in your stare kept his arms locked around your waist. Right where they had been when he picked you up and spun you around, kissing you as he placed you back on the ground. Oh, why did you feel… complete every time he kissed you? Even if they were accidents, they felt real. Without much thought you reconnected your lips. Shotaro not only let you, but found himself giving in to the sweet, sinking sensation.
Clothes fell to the floor one-by-one, exposed skin pressed together causing a euphoric current to run through you. You were diving into pure ecstasy. The world turning into a rose gold paradise. You couldn’t possibly stop now, but judging by the painful expression on Shotaro’s face as you reached for the hem of his boxers, you didn’t have much of a choice. “Please,” your voice was shaky, desperate. Eyes wide and pleading. “I need to know what it’s like to be made love to by someone who was made to love me. Please, just once, and then I can let you go.”
“I can’t, I can’t,” he shifted his weight to his side. Still hovering above your face, but leaving no room for boundary-crossing intimacy. “I’m sorry. You’re just not mine.” You covered your face as hot tears began streaming down your face. “No, don’t cry. I can’t stand watching you cry.” He empathized with you entirely. If he had spent his whole life without you, ran into you for a short while and had you taken from him, he’d also be devastated. You were never meant to leave your soulmate. Shotaro gently pushed away your hands, landing soft, comforting kisses on your tear stained cheeks.
“I was designed to love every version of you in existence. To hold you and care for you… and never hurt you. Going through with this would mean hurting my Y/N. Soulmate bonds are unbreakable, they’re eternal, but romantic bonds are much more monogamous.” He held your face like it was made of porcelain glass. “I love you, in that I am bound by fate. But I only am — and only ever will be — in love with her. Does that make sense?” You nodded in a devastated understanding. “I won’t ever deny you of my affection. I will hold you in my arms until tomorrow morning, then I will be reunited with my Y/N.”
So you fell asleep on his chest in the most peaceful slumber of your life.
ACT THREE: I Love You
“So, I guess this is it,” you said with a melancholic smile. He nodded reassuringly. Once again wrapping you up in a farewell hug.
“Thank you for everything.” His sincere tone warmed your anxious heart.
“As long as you return to your rightful place, all the effort will be worth it.” You sent a signal through the portal, hopefully notifying the other you that something was trying to get through. It wasn’t long before you received a response. It was time. Shotaro let out a deep breath before walking towards the portal. A sudden panic swept through you. “Wait!” You called out. He turned to face you, but you were already throwing yourself into his arms. His lips parted when yours collided with them in one last kiss.
You pulled away, expecting that to be the last of it, but Shotaro had another idea. He held your hand, bringing it to his upper arm, where the birthmark was. His other hand doing the same to yours. Then his forehead pressed against yours. The second your eyes fluttered shut, memories started playing in front of you. Not yours, his.
Every memory spent with the you of his reality. Meeting you for the first time, your first couple dates, your first kiss, proposing to you, seeing you walk down the aisle to him, making love to you, planing an entire lifetime with you, helping you build your portal, saying goodbye as he put every bit of his trust in you and walked into the unknown. The short but memorable moments spent with the actual you appeared also, making you glad that your dimensional presence made an impact on him. “I love you, Y/N. In every dimension.” He left a tender kiss on your forehead and slowly broke away from his hold on you.
“Find me in this dimension,” he spoke with determination.
“You’re a famous dancer in this world. We already decided it was unlikely that I’d be able to get close to you.” Shotaro Osaki in your world was a Kpop idol in the group RIIZE with thousands of fangirls. How were you meant to meet him, much less convince him of your soulmate bond?
He shook his head. “He never gave up dancing, so he stuck to that path. He’s never met you. But when he does, and he sees what a beautiful and smart and kind person you are, all bets will be off.” You chuckled timidly at the bold compliments. “If we share the same DNA, if his heart beats as mine does, there is no possibility that he won’t love you. It’s in our nature.”
You prayed as he walked through the portal, nervously waiting for the confirmation signal. The message appeared and you jumped in excitement. It worked! Shotaro was safe in his world and now it was time to find him in your own.
EPILOGUE
The apartment was a mess when Shotaro stepped through. Papers and books tossed everywhere. Five different computers opened to various windows. Not to forget to mention the disheveled love of his life standing in the middle of it, looking like she hadn’t eaten for days. You ran into his arms, holding onto him as if he would disappear at any moment. “I’m back, it’s okay. The portal worked!”
Your hands wandered under his shirt and planted themselves on his bare back. “It worked,” you agreed, staring up at him in disbelief. Clearly the news of your greatest invention working paled in comparison to the return of your long lost soulmate. Your lips met in a passionate kiss, all the pent up wistfulness and stress pouring through it. In the end, leaving the two of you in a peaceful surrender.
“I found you,” Shotaro confessed easily, “she helped me get back.” You were sat on the couch, side-by-side, completely entangled together.
You paused the chopsticks with your ramen before it reached your mouth. “Oh yeah, what was she like?”
“Like you, but also different… in some ways.”
“Did anything… happen between you two?” Shotaro’s eyes widened at the blunt question. You were always quick to cut through the bullshit and get to the point. The heavy blush on his cheeks told you the truth. You put your ramen down in a second. “Okay, what was it? Did you kiss her? Did you sleep with her? Was her love making better than mine? Shotaro Osaki, you better start talking now or I swear—“
“We only kissed, technically made out a bit,” you raised a hand to give him a half playful slap. He grabbed your wrist before you could try. “I didn’t sleep with her, because it felt wrong. You’re the only woman that I’m in love with. I told her that.” The answer seemed to partially satisfy you.
You stared at him questioningly. “And the kiss, was it as good as ours.”
“Never, my love,” he responded immediately. “Of course she had the same gorgeous lips, but nothing could compare to years of loving affection coming together to create the perfect kiss of love.” He knew it wouldn’t be the last of your questions, so he just silenced you with a welcomed perfect kiss of love.
•••
Meanwhile, in your dimension, you were giving Sohee a small wave as you were ushered along with your album to the man you had been waiting to see. Meeting the love of your life at a fan signing event didn’t seem plausible, yet here you were.
Shotaro looked just as you remembered. Only this version had dyed his hair another color. You could see all the same stages of confusion and disbelief that had passed through your brain pass through his. “Hi, have we… met before? I feel like I know you from somewhere.” He held the marker over your album, staring at you absentmindedly.
You smiled kindly, heart pounding. His lips lifted in an involuntary smile. “Kind of,” you replied, “in another life.”
pervybf! eunseok that walks in the bathroom right as you're done showering just to see you naked.
pervybf! eunseok that loves touching you when you're outside. he's talking with anton or wonbin but under the table his hand is in your thighs, rubbing circles with his thumb slowly going higher.
pervybf! eunseok that puts things higher up on the shelves to see you stretch and groan. your shirt riding up.
pervybf! eunseok that will stand behind you while you're talking just nudging his erection against the cleft of your ass forcing you to keep a straight face.
pervybf! eunseok that's lowkey a voyeur and loves watching you get ready.
pervybf! eunseok that steals your panties for work trips.
pervybf! eunseok that sends you pictures of him in the gym but asks you to touch yourself to them and send him videos and voice notes of it so he can keep them.
