#It is late at night when I am responding to this.

[gpcwsl]

Warnings: kissing?

Lia Wälti x Reader:

Title: A Game Of Hearts

MasterList

The café was bright and bustling, the hum of conversation blending with the whirr of an espresso machine. You sat across from Alessia and Kyra, your coffee cooling in front of you, untouched. Alessia’s laughter rang out as Kyra leaned in to whisper something to her, their private little bubble shutting you out again.

You shouldn’t feel bitter. Alessia was your best friend, and you were thrilled that she had found someone who made her so happy. But being the perpetual third wheel had a way of gnawing at your confidence.

“[Y/N],” Alessia said suddenly, pulling you from your thoughts. “You’ve been quiet. You okay?”

You forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

Kyra arched an eyebrow, her easygoing demeanor tinged with concern. “You sure? You’ve been working a lot lately.”

You shrugged. “Work’s work. Can’t exactly slack off, can I?”

Alessia exchanged a glance with Kyra, and you knew what was coming—a well-meaning but ultimately unhelpful attempt to dig deeper. You quickly deflected.

“So, how’s training going?” you asked, steering the conversation back to them.

Kyra launched into a story about their last scrimmage, Alessia chiming in with her usual enthusiasm. You nodded along, but their words blurred in your mind. You stirred your coffee absently, watching the foam dissolve into the liquid.

By the time you left the café, your chest felt heavy.

That evening, your phone buzzed with a text from Alessia.

Alessia: Hey, some of the team is going out tomorrow night. You should come!

You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. The thought of spending another night feeling out of place wasn’t exactly appealing.

You: I don’t know… I’ll probably just stay in.

Her reply came almost instantly.

Alessia: Nope. You’re coming. Non-negotiable.

You sighed. Alessia had a way of dragging you out of your comfort zone, and you didn’t have the energy to argue.

You: Fine. What time?

Alessia: 7. Dress cute.

The bar was already packed when you arrived. Music thumped through the speakers, the bass vibrating in your chest. You spotted the team near the back, crowded around a long table.

“There you are!” Alessia called, waving you over.

You slid into the booth beside her, the faint smell of her perfume a comforting reminder of home. The rest of the team greeted you warmly, their energy infectious. But as the night wore on, you found yourself retreating into your shell.

It wasn’t intentional; you just didn’t know how to fit into the whirlwind of inside jokes and playful banter. Alessia and Kyra were glued to each other, and the others were too absorbed in their own conversations to notice your quiet withdrawal.

Until Lia Wälti appeared.

“You look like you could use some air,” she said, her voice cutting through the noise like a soft breeze.

You glanced up, surprised. She was standing beside you, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos around you.

“Is it that obvious?” you asked with a weak laugh.

She smiled, tilting her head toward the door. “Come on.”

Outside, the air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain. The quiet was a welcome relief from the bar’s overwhelming noise.

“Thanks,” you said, shoving your hands into your pockets. “I didn’t realize how much I needed that.”

Lia leaned against the wall, her dark eyes studying you. “You seemed a little… out of place in there.”

You shrugged. “I guess I’m not really the ‘night out’ type.”

“Neither am I,” she admitted. “But sometimes it’s good to step out of your comfort zone.”

You nodded, unsure how to respond. There was something about Lia—her presence was steady, grounding. She didn’t push for conversation, letting the silence settle comfortably between you.

When you returned to the table, something had shifted. Lia stayed close, occasionally drawing you into the group’s conversations, and for the first time that night, you felt like you belonged.

The following weeks were a blur of small moments. Lia would invite you to join her for lunch after training or sit with you during team gatherings, her quiet company becoming a constant in your life.

One afternoon, after a particularly exhausting training session, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the field, staring at the empty stands.

“Hey.”

You looked up to see Lia approaching, a bottle of water in her hand. She sat beside you, close enough that her shoulder brushed yours.

“Rough day?” she asked, offering you the water.

“Something like that,” you muttered, taking a sip.

Lia didn’t press, her gaze fixed on the horizon. After a long pause, she said, “You don’t have to carry everything on your own, you know.”

Her words caught you off guard. “What do you mean?”

She turned to face you, her expression soft but serious. “I mean, you have people who care about you. Let them in.”

You swallowed hard, her words striking a chord you hadn’t expected. “It’s not that simple.”

“Maybe not,” she said. “But it’s worth it.”

For the first time in a long time, you felt the walls around your heart begin to crack.

Lia’s idea of a break was a quiet afternoon at a park just outside the city. The two of you strolled along a winding path, the air filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the distant hum of bees.

“This place is beautiful,” you said, your voice hushed as if speaking too loudly would disrupt the tranquility.

“It’s my favorite spot,” Lia admitted. “Whenever I need to clear my head, I come here.”

You walked in silence for a while, the only sound the crunch of gravel beneath your feet. Eventually, you reached a small pond, the water shimmering in the sunlight.

Lia sat on the grass, patting the spot beside her. You joined her, the warmth of the sun on your skin a stark contrast to the nervous flutter in your chest.

“Thank you,” you said after a while.

“For what?” she asked, turning to look at you.

“For this. For… everything.”

Her dark eyes searched yours, her expression unreadable. “You don’t have to thank me, [Y/N]. I’m happy you’re here.”

The air between you felt charged, as if something unspoken was lingering just out of reach. But neither of you acted on it, letting the moment pass.

The team’s weekend retreat was supposed to be a bonding experience, but for you, it was a chance to spend more time with Lia. Sharing a cabin with her was both thrilling and terrifying, every small interaction sending your heart racing.

One night, while the others gathered around a campfire, you stayed behind with Lia. The cabin was quiet, the only light coming from the crackling fireplace.

“I feel like I’ve been holding my breath for months,” you admitted, staring into the flames.

“Why?” Lia asked, her voice gentle.

“Because… I don’t know how to let go. How to stop feeling like I’m not enough.”

She reached out, her hand covering yours. The warmth of her touch sent a shiver through you.

“You are enough, [Y/N],” she said softly. “More than enough.”

You looked at her, your heart pounding. The words were on the tip of your tongue, but fear held you back. Instead, you squeezed her hand, hoping she understood what you couldn’t say.

It happened on a quiet afternoon at Lia’s apartment. You sat across from her, watching her laugh at something you said, and suddenly, you couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“Lia,” you said, your voice trembling.

She looked up, her smile fading as she saw the seriousness in your expression.

“I… I think I’m falling for you,” you admitted, your heart hammering in your chest.

For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Then she reached across the table, taking your hand in hers.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” she said softly.

Relief flooded through you, and when she leaned in to kiss you, it felt like the world finally made sense.

The transition from friends to something more was seamless. Lia was patient and kind, her love quiet but unwavering. Alessia and Kyra teased you endlessly, but their support was a constant reminder of the family you’d found.

As you stood on the sidelines during a match, watching Lia lead the team with her steady presence, you couldn’t help but smile.

You weren’t just a third wheel anymore. You were part of something bigger—something beautiful.

And for the first time, you felt whole.

[lilmisssona]

*ੈ✩Sorry Bestie, I love you *ੈ✩

*ੈ✩Pairing - Han Jisung × Fem Reader

*ੈ✩Plot - After being stood up for the fifth time this year, you've had enough of serial date ghosting. Just when you were about to leave, your best friend Han, whom you vented to , texts back saying to wait because he's coming to meet you. But Han left for another city eight years ago and when he shows up, you're shocked to see your quirky best has turned into someone undeniably hot!

*ੈ✩Genre - Angst, comedy, fluff

*ੈ✩Warnings - Dramatic comedic duo, non idol au, best friends to lovers au, angst, hurt to comfort

*ੈ✩Word Count - 10.7 K *ੈ✩Screenshot Count - 4

*ੈ✩A/N - Episode 5 of Staymas is here! This best friends-to-lovers tale will have you laughing, crying, and dreaming. Dive into this heartwarming and classic tale, albeit a little cliché! you won’t want to miss it! ( This is just slightly proofread so apologies for any mistakes 🙂‍↕️ )

*ੈ✩ SKZ Masterlist *ੈ✩ STAYMAS Masterlist

The candle flickers, the breeze teasing its flame. You try not to look at the empty chair across from you, but it’s impossible to ignore. Five times this year. A record, really. Maybe it’s time to quit dating altogether.

You grab your bag to leave, but your phone buzzes on the table. Glancing at the screen, you see his name....

You frown at the screen. Typical Jisung...cryptic, over-the-top, dramatic. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, debating whether to humor him. But something about his insistence makes you hesitate.

After waiting 20 minutes you were about to respond when the café door swings open. The sound barely registers...it’s a busy place, after all...but then you see him.

And for a moment, your brain stalls.

There he is: Han Jisung.

But not the Jisung you remember - the nerdy kid with mismatched socks and perpetually broken earbuds. No, this version of Jisung looks… different. Sharper. His jawline catches the soft glow of the café lights, and his tailored jacket makes him look almost regal.

When his eyes meet yours, he grins, the same mischievous spark lighting his face. “Hey,” he says, sliding into the seat across from you. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Jisung,” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper. “What are you doing here? You live miles away in Busan!”

“I moved back to Seoul months ago,” he says casually, leaning back. “Didn’t I tell you?”

“No!”

“Oops,” he says unapologetically. “Anyway, I couldn’t let you sit here alone. You deserve better than some no-show loser.”

You stare at him, still trying to process. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I know. That’s why you love me.”

You roll your eyes, but your lips twitch upward despite yourself. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here I am,” he replies, his tone light but his gaze warm.

“Why, Ji? You didn’t teleport just to crash my pity party.”

Jisung leans forward, a smirk playing on his lips. “When my best friend texts saying their night sucks, I can’t not show up. Besides,” he adds with a mock whisper, “it’s been too long since I’ve played knight in shining armor.”

You snort, trying to ignore the way your heart skips at his words. “If you’re the knight, I’m doomed. What’s your grand plan? Order dessert and roast my date?”

“First, dessert is mandatory. Second, roasting is a given. But I was thinking bigger.”

You arch a brow. “Bigger? Like what?”

He rubs his chin in mock contemplation. “Storm their workplace and give them a lecture on human decency? Or better yet, I’ll write a diss track. Something like, ‘Ghosted Five Times, but I’m Still Fine.’”

You burst out laughing. “Please don’t. The world doesn’t need a breakup anthem about my tragic love life.”

“Too late,” he says, pretending to take notes. “Verse one: ‘Left her at the rooftop café, but she’s too hot for your games anyway.’ Instant hit.”

“Ridiculous,” you say, still laughing.

“And yet, you’re smiling,” he points out, grinning wider.

You shake your head, but the heaviness you felt earlier is fading, replaced by Jisung’s familiar warmth.

“Okay, fine,” you say, gesturing to the menu. “If you’re the hero, you’re buying dessert.”

“Done,” he says, scanning the menu. “But we’re sharing.”

“Deal. But I’m ordering the biggest slice.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d expect less.”

As the waiter approaches, you realize something...this moment, sitting here with Jisung, feels better than any date you’ve had in years.

And that thought terrifies you.

----------------------------------------------------------

The waiter sets down the slice of tiramisu, its rich layers of cream and coffee-soaked cake practically glowing under the café lights. Jisung doesn’t even wait for the plate to settle before scooping up a massive bite.

“Hey!” you protest, swatting at his hand with your fork. “We agreed to share, not for you to inhale the whole thing!”

“Sharing is caring,” he says through a mouthful, utterly unrepentant. “Besides, you said you wanted the biggest slice, not the biggest bite. Details matter.”

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress the laugh that escapes. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you’ve kept me around all these years.” He winks, his cheek now smudged with a bit of whipped cream.

“You’ve got something on your face, genius,” you say, pointing vaguely at his cheek.

“Here?” He swipes at the wrong side.

“No, the other side.”

“Here?” He misses again, managing to smear the whipped cream further.

“Give me that.” You grab a napkin and lean across the table to clean his cheek.

Jisung freezes, his playful grin fading as you get closer. Your hand pauses, and for a brief moment, you’re hyper-aware of how near you are. His gaze locks with yours, the teasing light in his eyes softening. The sounds of the café blur into a quiet hum, leaving only the weight of the moment.

Then, just as suddenly, it’s gone.

“There,” you say, sitting back and tossing the napkin onto the table. “Crisis averted.”

“Thanks, Mom,” he teases, but his voice is gentler now, his smile smaller yet no less warm.

You look away, focusing on your fork as you take a bite of the tiramisu. The sweetness melts on your tongue, but the lingering heat of his gaze lingers heavier than the dessert.

“So,” you say, eager to steer the conversation back to safer ground, “are you going to tell me why you didn’t mention moving back to Seoul? Or were you planning to keep it a secret forever?”

He shrugs, casually taking another bite. “I wanted it to be a surprise. You know me...I live for dramatic entrances.”

“Mission accomplished,” you mutter. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”

“Believe it,” he says, leaning back and crossing his arms. “I’m not going anywhere this time.”

His words hang in the air, heavier than you expect. You glance at him, and for a moment, you see the boy he used to be...the one who chased you through the hallways, who promised nothing would ever come between you....

----------------------------------------------------------

It was a rainy Monday morning. The kind that begged you to stay under the covers and forget the world existed. But skipping class wasn’t an option when you were already on the brink of being dropped for "excessive tardiness." So, there you were, sprinting through the maze of your university’s sprawling campus, clutching your bag to your chest and praying you’d slip into the lecture hall unnoticed.

As you rounded a corner, moving far too quickly for the slippery tile floor, disaster struck. You slammed straight into something— or someone. The impact sent you staggering, and before you could process what had happened, books, papers, and color-coded notes exploded into the air, raining down like confetti in a very unfortunate parade.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” you blurted, dropping to your knees to gather the mess. Your heart was pounding from the sprint...and now from the mortification. So much for keeping a low profile.

“It’s fine,” came a calm, slightly irritated voice.

Looking up, you froze. Of all people, it had to be Han Jisung, the department’s golden boy. His reputation as a straight-A student was almost mythical, the kind of person who turned in assignments early and still managed to ace everything. Even now, in the chaos, he looked annoyingly put together. His navy sweater was pristine, his hair somehow immune to the rain outside, and his expression was a mix of disbelief and mild exasperation.

“Maybe,” he said, crouching down to gather his notes, “you should slow down next time.”

“Right. Slow down. Got it,” you muttered, cheeks burning as you handed him a stack of papers. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. Sorry again.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly, his gaze flicking to yours. “Thanks. Wait… do I know you?”

“You should,” you said before you could stop yourself. “I’m the one who almost blew up the chemistry lab during first-year practicals.”

Recognition flickered in his eyes, followed by amusement. “Oh. You’re that person.”

You grinned sheepishly. “The one and only. In my defense, the safety instructions were... vague.”

“That’s a generous interpretation,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching upward as he resumed organizing his notes with practiced precision.

“And you’re Han Jisung,” you added, as though it wasn’t obvious. “Everyone knows you. You’re basically the poster child for academic perfection.”

“And you’re the one who thought shaking the vending machine would make it dispense two drinks at once,” he countered, his tone dry but laced with humor.

“That worked,” you retorted, smiling. “It just wasn’t worth the bruises.”

To your surprise, he laughed, an unguarded, genuine laugh that softened his polished exterior. For a moment, the intimidating image of Han Jisung melted away, replaced by someone far more approachable.

“Here,” he said, standing and offering you his hand. His grip was steady as he pulled you to your feet. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just my pride’s a little bruised,” you admitted, brushing off your jeans.

“Well,” he said, smirking, “maybe next time, your pride should walk a little slower.”

You laughed, the last of your embarrassment fading. “Duly noted, Han Jisung.”

He tilted his head, his curiosity evident. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

“Y/N,” you said, holding out your hand, which he shook with a small, genuine smile.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Try to stay out of trouble, okay?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you quipped, grinning as you slung your bag over your shoulder.

He shook his head, an amused glint in his eye as he collected his books and turned to leave. “See you around,” he said over his shoulder.

And as you watched him walk away - posture perfect, demeanor unshaken despite the chaos...you couldn’t help but smile. Something told you this wouldn’t be the last time your paths crossed.

You had no idea then just how much he’d come to mean to you...or how much trouble the two of you would get into together.

----------------------------------------------------------

The first time Han Jisung saved you, you were knee-deep in a mess entirely of your own making. It had started innocently enough - just another one of your “brilliant” ideas. You’d overheard someone mention that the campus auditorium boasted the best sound system in the city, and naturally, your curiosity had gotten the better of you. The only hitch? You decided to “borrow” a key from the janitor’s office to test the claim.

Your plan seemed foolproof: sneak in, connect your playlist, and revel in the sheer glory of bass that could rattle the walls. What could possibly go wrong? Well, as it turned out, everything.

Barely ten minutes into your impromptu concert, the auditorium doors swung open, revealing a very unimpressed campus security officer.

“Who gave you permission to be here?” the officer demanded, his glare sharp enough to slice through steel.

Panic flooded your chest as you fumbled for an explanation. “I, uh… I was just...”

“Just what? Trespassing and breaking into campus property?”

The scolding was bad enough, but the real horror was the thought of being reported. With your already shaky academic record, one more misstep could mean suspension, or worse. As your mind raced for an excuse, a calm, steady voice cut through the tension.

“Actually, it was my fault,” said Han Jisung, striding into the room with a confidence you didn’t know he possessed.

You blinked at him in shock. Jisung, of all people? What was he doing here?

“And who are you?” the officer asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Han Jisung,” he said smoothly, as if his name alone carried authority. “I’m a student council representative. I was supposed to meet Y/N here to help set up the sound system for a presentation.”

Your jaw practically hit the floor. Presentation? Meeting? What on earth was Jisung talking about?

The officer frowned, unconvinced. “This doesn’t look like a presentation.”

“We were testing the system before the meeting,” Jisung explained with unnerving ease. His tone was so measured, so convincing, that even you almost believed him. “I take full responsibility for not getting prior approval from the administration. It won’t happen again.”

The officer eyed him for a moment longer, then sighed. “Fine. But if I catch either of you here without permission again, there will be consequences.”

“Yes, sir. Understood,” Jisung said, bowing slightly as the officer turned and left.

As soon as the door clicked shut, you turned to him, still reeling. “What the hell was that?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Jisung retorted, arms crossed. “Breaking into the auditorium? Really?”

“I wasn’t breaking in! I just… borrowed the key,” you mumbled defensively.

“And you thought no one would notice?” He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

You opened your mouth to argue but quickly shut it. He wasn’t wrong. “Fine. It was stupid. But why’d you cover for me?”

Jisung let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Because I didn’t want you to get in trouble. Again. Do you have any idea how close you are to being put on academic probation?”

Your eyes widened. “Wait! you keep track of my academic record?”

“It’s hard not to when you’re constantly finding new ways to get into trouble,” he muttered, though his tone was more exasperated than angry. “Seriously, Y/N, you need to be more careful.”

A strange mix of gratitude and embarrassment settled in your chest. “Thanks,” you said softly, looking at him with newfound appreciation.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, his expression softening. “Just… maybe think things through next time?”

You grinned despite yourself. “What, and miss out on all the fun?”

Jisung groaned, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe,” you teased, nudging him lightly. “But admit it...you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

He didn’t answer right away, but the faint smile tugging at his lips said more than words ever could.

Your friendship with Han Jisung was like an unpredictable storm meeting a steady anchor. Where you brought chaos, wild and unapologetic, he brought calm and quiet resilience. Yet somehow, the two of you balanced each other, your mismatched escapades weaving an unlikely but unshakable bond.

----------------------------------------------------------

Take the time you convinced Han Jisung to sneak into the art department’s studio with you. Rumor had it that the seniors had painted a massive mural on the back wall, and you just had to see it before the official unveiling.

“This is such a bad idea,” Jisung muttered, trailing behind you through the dimly lit hallway.

“You say that every time,” you whispered back, stifling a grin as you jiggled the door handle. “And yet, here you are.”

“Only because someone has to make sure you don’t get caught,” he shot back, crossing his arms.

“Relax, it’s just a mural. No one’s going to....”

The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, cutting off your reassurance. Your heart leaped into your throat as you instinctively grabbed Jisung’s arm and dragged him behind a stack of easels. The two of you crouched low, pressed shoulder to shoulder, holding your breath.

“I hate this,” he hissed, his voice barely audible.

“You love this,” you whispered, unable to suppress the mischievous smile spreading across your face.

When the footsteps finally receded, leaving the hallway silent once more, you turned toward Jisung, your faces just inches apart. For a brief moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. You could feel the warmth of his skin, the rise and fall of his chest, and the way his eyes searched yours, as if questioning what on earth he was doing here with you.

“Let’s just go,” he muttered, breaking the spell as he stood up and dusted himself off.

The mural, when you finally laid eyes on it, was breathtaking: a kaleidoscope of colors and intricate details that left you momentarily speechless. But the real highlight of the night wasn’t the art. It was Jisung’s deadpan commentary as he gestured toward the wall with exaggerated disbelief.

“You risked getting us expelled for this?” he asked, his tone dripping with mock indignation.

“It’s called appreciating art,” you replied, snapping a photo with your phone. “You should try it sometime.”

“Next time, let’s just visit a museum like normal people,” he said, shaking his head. But the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips betrayed him.

Your friendship with Han Jisung was a rollercoaster of shenanigans and shared moments that made life vibrant and unpredictable. The two of you were a duo nobody quite understood — him, the straight-laced, diligent student with his color-coded notes and perfectly maintained schedule, and you, the chaotic whirlwind who somehow managed to stumble your way through life with charm and luck.

Whether it was sneaking into the art department to see hidden murals or convincing him to ditch a study session for a midnight run to the nearest convenience store, you were always dragging Jisung into your world of playful mayhem.

And the most surprising part? He let you. He’d complain endlessly...“Y/N, this is the last time I’m letting you drag me into one of your dumb plans...,” But he’d always follow.

But your fun and games came to a crashing halt one fateful afternoon when reality smacked you in the face.

It started innocently enough. You and Jisung were sitting on the grass in the quad, eating snacks after one of your shared classes. He had a notebook balanced on his knee, going over notes while you dramatically recounted your latest “battle” with your statistics professor.

“Y/N, you can’t keep ignoring deadlines,” Jisung said, laughing as he stole one of your chips. “At some point, it’s going to catch up with you.”

“It’s fine,” you said breezily, leaning back and looking at the sky. “I always figure it out in the end.”

But you didn’t.

The next week, the results of your midterm exams came out, and the sinking feeling in your stomach as you saw your grades was undeniable. You were failing. And not just in one class;several.

You didn’t want to tell Jisung. Admitting it felt like admitting defeat, like proving to him that you were the chaotic mess everyone thought you were. But Jisung wasn’t the type to let things slide.

When he saw you sitting alone in the library, looking dejected, he plopped down across from you with his usual confident grin. “Alright, what’s up? And don’t even think about saying ‘nothing.’”

You sighed, burying your face in your hands. “I’m failing, Jisung.”

He blinked, momentarily surprised. “Failing what?”

“Exams,” you mumbled.

“Right, you're failing. I know."

"You know?" you asked, shocked.

"You bombed the last three quizzes, skipped half the study sessions, and I saw you playing games on your laptop during class last week,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “If you keep this up, you’re not going to pass the finals.”

You scoffed, running a hand through your hair. “Rubbing salt in the wound, much? Okay, I get it. I'm a horrible person… I don’t know how to fix it.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said, his expression softening. “We’re going to fix this. Together.”

And just like that, he took charge. Over the next few months, Jisung practically became your shadow. He made you a study schedule, sat with you during every session, and patiently explained concepts you didn’t understand.

“Focus, Y/N,” he’d say when he caught you doodling in the margins of your notes.

“You’re like an annoying older brother,” you grumbled one evening as he forced you to redo a particularly difficult essay for the fifth time.

“Older?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “I’m literally younger than you.”

“Then stop acting like my dad,” you shot back, sticking your tongue out at him.

“You’re lucky I don’t charge for all this,” he’d mutter, shaking his head but unable to hide his fond smile.

Despite the grueling sessions, you couldn’t deny that it was working. And as the exams approached, you felt something you hadn’t felt in a long time: hope.

The day the results were posted, you practically sprinted to the bulletin board, your heart pounding in your chest. Jisung followed behind, a calm presence as always.

When you saw your grades, you let out a gasp. “I passed!”

Jisung grinned, clapping you on the back. “See? I told you you could do it.”

You turned to him, your eyes shining. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Jisung. Seriously, thank you.”

He shrugged, but the smile on his face was genuine. “What are best friends for?”

And that was the moment you realized, once again, just how much he meant to you. He wasn’t just your partner in crime or your study buddy. He was your anchor, your constant, your safe place in the chaos of life.

----------------------------------------------------------

Next semester arrived before you knew it, sweeping you into a whirlwind of assignments, deadlines, and late-night cramming sessions. Somewhere amid the chaos of library study marathons and the steady comfort of early-morning pep talks, it hit you...you were falling for Han Jisung. It wasn’t the kind of love that blindsided you in a single moment, the way romance novels and movies often describe. No, this was different. It was a quiet realization, like the way dawn gradually paints the sky with soft, golden hues. Subtle, unassuming, but impossible to ignore once you noticed it.

You found yourself searching for his laugh in crowded rooms, a sound so infectious it felt like sunlight breaking through the darkest clouds. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled became something you looked forward to, a little beacon of joy in your long, exhausting days. Then there was the way he pushed his hair back when he was concentrating, his brow furrowing slightly as if he were trying to solve the mysteries of the universe. It was such a small thing, but it made your heart skip every time.

And it wasn’t just the way he made you feel; it was the way he cared for you, in a way no one else ever had. He had this way of noticing things about you...things you didn’t even realize you were doing. Like how he’d remind you to eat when you got too caught up in your work or how he’d send you a text late at night, a simple “You’ve got this” that somehow made everything feel a little more manageable. His care wasn’t loud or overbearing; it was steady and unshakable, like a constant undercurrent that you could always count on.

You didn’t know exactly when it started...when his presence began to mean more than just friendship. Maybe it was during one of those late-night library sessions when he stayed up with you until dawn, helping you with a paper even though he didn’t have to. Maybe it was the way he looked at you, his gaze soft and full of something you couldn’t quite name. Or maybe it was simply everything...every moment, every laugh, every small, thoughtful gesture adding up until your heart couldn’t hold it all anymore.

But falling for him was as terrifying as it was beautiful. Because as much as you wanted to believe there was something more between you, you couldn’t ignore the fear—the fear that acknowledging your feelings would change everything, that crossing that line might mean losing him entirely. So you kept it to yourself, letting your feelings grow quietly in the corners of your heart, where they were safe but painfully unspoken.

Instead of confessing, you did what you thought would save you from heartbreak: burying your feelings and making a choice that felt like the only escape at the time. You started dating someone else.

At first, it seemed like a solution, a distraction from the ache that tightened your chest every time Jisung’s warm smile was directed at you. Your new relationship kept you busy, giving you something else to focus on. But it didn’t take long for cracks to appear, tiny fractures that grew wider with every passing day. Your partner turned out to be toxic: controlling, dismissive, and quick to belittle you for things you couldn’t control. Every disagreement became a battle, every moment together felt like walking on eggshells.

And, of course, Jisung noticed. He always noticed.

“Y/N,” he said softly one evening, his voice cutting through the suffocating silence of your apartment. He was sitting beside you on the couch after you’d had yet another argument with your partner, your eyes red and tired from holding back tears. “You don’t have to put up with this.”

You shrugged, keeping your gaze fixed on your hands. “It’s not as bad as it seems.”

His hand reached out, brushing against yours as his voice took on a firmness that was rare for him. “It is that bad. You deserve better than this. So much better.”

You looked up at him then, his expression both gentle and resolute, and something in your chest cracked open. His words felt like a lifeline, a reminder of the person you used to be....the person you wanted to be again. Still, you didn’t act immediately. Breaking up was messy, painful, and terrifying. But Jisung’s unwavering support gave you strength.

When the breakup finally happened, it unraveled everything. The aftermath was raw, leaving you emotionally drained and questioning everything. You called Jisung in the middle of the night, your voice shaking as you choked out his name. And, like always, he showed up. No questions, no hesitation. He simply came.

He didn’t try to fix you or tell you to move on. He just sat with you, his arms wrapped around you as you cried, his presence grounding you in a way no one else’s could. His quiet reassurances weren’t grand declarations, but they were exactly what you needed: I’m here. You’re not alone.

And that was when you knew. You couldn’t keep pretending anymore. You couldn’t keep denying that he wasn’t just your best friend. That every time he laughed, your heart skipped. That he wasn’t the person you wanted beside you...not just in moments of crisis, but always.

It was terrifying to think about confessing. But the thought of losing him? That was even worse. So you made up your mind. You would tell him how you felt, even if it risked everything.

But reality always has other plans....

----------------------------------------------------------

“Earth to Y/N,” Jisung’s voice pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts. His hand waved in front of your face, his tone laced with gentle teasing. “Are you okay?”

You blinked, your surroundings coming back into focus. His face was mere inches from yours, his brows furrowed with concern. He looked at you the way he always did, as though he could see every unspoken thought you were too afraid to share.

“Yeah,” you lied, your voice coming out shaky. “I’m fine. Just… thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” His curiosity was genuine, his head tilting slightly as he studied you.

Your fingers tightened around your coffee cup, your heart hammering in your chest. What could you say? That you were thinking about how much you missed him? About how every moment with him only made it harder to keep your feelings hidden? About how terrifying it was to sit across from him, knowing your heart was an open wound he couldn’t see?

“Just... reminiscing,” you said finally, forcing a smile that you hoped hid the turmoil inside. “About how you’ve always had my back. You’ve saved me more times than I can count.”

He grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way that never failed to make your stomach flip. “What can I say? Someone’s gotta keep you out of trouble.”

You laughed, but it felt hollow, the weight of your unsaid confession pressing down on you. You couldn’t help but notice the way the evening light softened his features, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world who mattered. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to say what you really wanted to.

As the conversation drifted to lighter topics, you found yourself stealing glances at him, memorizing every detail of his face, every inflection of his voice. The thought that you might never be brave enough to tell him how you felt was unbearable.

And when he walked you home that night, his presence warm and steady beside you, you almost stopped him. Almost turned to him and let the words tumble out. But fear held you back...the fear of ruining what you already had, the fear that he didn’t feel the same.

As you stood outside your apartment building, Jisung smiled softly, his hands buried in his coat pockets. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight,” you whispered, watching him walk away.

You stayed there long after he was gone, the city’s lights blurring in your vision as tears pricked your eyes. Because no matter how much you told yourself it was better this way, your heart knew the truth.

You closed the door behind you, the sound of it slamming shut echoing in the otherwise silent apartment. Leaning against the door, you let out a breath, one you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding. Your chest still felt tight, and your heart raced uncontrollably,not from the cold night air that still clung to you, but from everything that had just transpired.

Best friends

That’s all you were to him, and that’s all you’d ever be. The bitter thought made your stomach twist as you dropped your bag carelessly onto the floor.

With each step that led you to your bedroom, the weight of it all pressed down on you. You peeled off your jacket, tossing it onto the chair in the corner, not bothering to hang it up. The soft glow from the city lights filtered through your curtains, casting delicate, fleeting patterns on the walls. You climbed into bed, the comforter enveloping you like a fragile shield. But no amount of warmth could ease the ache that gnawed at your heart.

Your mind, however, had other plans. It dragged you back, back to that cold Valentine’s Day years ago, when you’d finally decided to take the plunge, to confess, to reveal the feelings you’d kept hidden for far too long.

----------------------------------------------------------

It had been one of those early February mornings, the kind where your breath hung in the air in little clouds of mist, and the campus pathways were slick from the melting frost. You’d spent weeks wrestling with the idea, turning it over in your mind like a stone you couldn’t get rid of. Every shared laugh, every teasing nudge from Jisung, every late-night text that made your heart flutter, each small moment had added weight to the growing realization that you couldn’t ignore your feelings anymore.

Today’s the day, you told yourself. The words echoed in your mind like a mantra, but they didn’t feel as comforting as they should have. You couldn’t keep pretending to be his best friend, not when your heart longed for something more.

You had prepared for this moment, rehearsing your confession in front of the mirror over and over. It wasn’t going to be grand or dramatic, just honest, just the truth of how much he meant to you. It was going to be simple: "Jisung, I need to tell you something. I think I’m in love with you."

But just as you’d gathered the courage to leave your dorm, your phone buzzed. A call from Nari, a friend of yours since freshman year.

"Hey, can we talk? Meet me at the campus café around noon. It’s important."

Your heart skipped a beat. What could Nari possibly want to talk about? You didn’t think much of it at first. Nari was the kind of person who always seemed to know when something was off, and she had a way of making you feel like everything would be okay, even when it wasn’t. Maybe she’d guessed how you felt about Jisung and wanted to give you some advice—something to help ease the burden you’d carried for so long.

You agreed to meet her, nervous energy coursing through you. You picked out a small rose for Jisung, the perfect shade of red, and made your way to the café. When you arrived, Nari was already there, absentmindedly stirring a cup of tea. She looked up when she saw you, offering a smile, but it was the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

"Hey," she greeted, her voice light but hesitant. "Thanks for meeting me."

"Of course," you replied, trying to sound steady despite the nervous flutter in your chest. "What’s up?"

Nari hesitated, her gaze flickering to the rose in your hand before meeting your eyes again. She took a deep breath, and you could tell something was weighing heavily on her.

"I wanted to talk to you about something... something important," she said, her voice quieter now, more serious.

Your stomach tightened with unease. "Okay?"

She fiddled with the edge of her sleeve, taking a moment before continuing. "I know how close you and Jisung are. And... I’ve noticed how you look at him."

Your cheeks flushed with heat, a wave of panic crashing over you. "W-What do you mean?" you stammered, unsure of what she was getting at.

"You like him, don’t you?" she asked gently, her voice almost apologetic, as if she already knew the answer.

You froze. There was no point denying it. Not when she’d already seen straight through you. The truth hung in the air between you, heavy and undeniable. You nodded slowly, the grip on the rose tightening as you spoke. "Yeah. I do."

Nari bit her lip, her expression softening with sympathy. "I figured. That’s why I thought I should tell you before you... before you do anything." She trailed off, clearly struggling to find the right words.

Your heart dropped into your stomach. "What about you and Jisung?" you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Nari shifted in her seat, her eyes avoiding yours for a moment. Then, slowly, she met your gaze again, her expression filled with something that looked like guilt.

"We’ve been seeing each other," she said, her voice small but resolute. "For a little while now."

The words hit you like a physical blow, knocking the wind out of you. You blinked, trying to process what she had just said. This couldn’t be real. Jisung hadn’t said anything...nothing about her, nothing about being with anyone.

"You’re... together?" you asked, barely able to form the words.

Nari nodded, her face etched with a kind of remorse. "It’s still new," she said quietly, "but I thought it was better to tell you now. I didn’t want you to find out in a way that would hurt more."

Hurt. The irony of her words felt like salt in the wound. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. The rose in your hand suddenly felt like a cruel joke, its vibrant petals mocking you. The confession you’d been building up for so long, the one you’d been so certain of, had just become meaningless.

"I’m sorry," Nari said softly, her voice laced with sincerity. "I didn’t mean for this to happen. But... I really care about him."

You swallowed, forcing yourself to smile, even though it felt like it would tear you apart. "It’s fine," you said, though the words felt hollow. "Really."

But it wasn’t fine. Not at all.

The rest of the conversation blurred as she went on about how happy Jisung made her, about how she never expected this to happen, but how she had to be honest with you. Every word felt like a knife twisting deeper, but you held it together, nodding at the right times, forcing yourself to listen.

When you finally left the café, you didn’t even look back. The rose you’d clutched in your hand found its way into the nearest trash can, the delicate petals crushed under your trembling fingers, a symbol of everything you could never have.

---------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks after Valentine’s Day, life had settled into an uneasy rhythm. You buried your feelings deeper than ever, convincing yourself that it was better this way. You were still Jisung’s best friend, the one he turned to when he needed to laugh, vent, or just be himself. But each moment spent with him was a bittersweet reminder of what you could never have, an ache that lingered, stubborn and relentless.

Then, one evening, your phone buzzed with a call from him, Jisung.

“Hey, can we talk? There’s something I need to tell you.”

Your stomach flipped, unease settling over you like a heavy weight. His tone was more serious than usual, sending a chill through your body. Was he about to bring up what you had been trying so hard to bury? You hesitated, but finally replied, your heart pounding.

“Of course. What’s up?”

“Let’s meet on the rooftop of campus. I’ll be there in 20.”

A knot tightened in your stomach as you agreed.

The rooftop -yours and his safe place. It was the space where you had shared confessions, secrets, things that shouldn’t be seen by the world. You both had always come here to escape, to be yourselves away from prying eyes.

You arrived early, anxiety crawling up your spine with every step. The campus was eerily quiet at night, and you slipped through the building’s doors, heading up to the rooftop. The familiar view of the city lights was comforting, but tonight, it couldn’t settle your nerves.

When Jisung arrived, he was different. His playful grin was absent, replaced by a serious expression. His eyes, usually filled with warmth and mischief, held a weight you hadn’t seen before. Your chest tightened at the sight.

“Hey,” you greeted, forcing a smile that felt like a mask, as you turned to face him.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice unusually soft. He didn’t meet your gaze immediately, instead fiddling nervously with the hem of his hoodie sleeves...a habit you knew well.

“Everything okay?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light, even though your heart felt like it was going to explode.

He took a deep breath before lifting his gaze to meet yours. His eyes were steady, but there was something burdened in them, something he hadn’t said yet.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and... I didn’t know how to tell you. But I have to.”

Your heart sank, the weight of his words sinking in before you could even process them. What was ge about to tell you ? That he and Nari were becoming serious? That he didn’t want to stay friends anymore?

“I’m leaving Seoul,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

The words hit you like a physical blow, knocking the air from your lungs. “What?”

“I got accepted into a music program in Busan,” he explained, his hands clenching into fists. “It’s an incredible opportunity, like a dream come true. But it means... I have to leave.”

Your mind went blank, your body feeling like it was trapped in quicksand. Jisung had always talked about his passion for music, about creating something that meant something. You were proud of him, truly, but the thought of him leaving, of him being so far away, was unbearable.

“When?” you managed to ask, your voice barely a whisper.

“In a week,” he said, his eyes searching yours, looking for understanding. “I didn’t want to tell you until everything was finalized. I just... I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

Your chest tightened as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. You looked away, staring blankly at the city below. “A week? That’s... so soon.”

“I know,” he said, his voice tinged with regret. “But it’s something I have to do. You understand that, right?”

You nodded, forcing the lump in your throat down, even though your heart was breaking. “Yeah, of course. It’s your dream. You’d be crazy not to go.”

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Jisung talked about the program, his excitement and nervousness spilling over as he shared every detail. You listened, offered words of encouragement, even joked with him to lighten the mood. But as soon as you were alone, everything you had been holding back came crashing down.

----------------------------------------------------------

The week passed in a blur, each day bringing you closer to the inevitable. And then, it was the day of his departure.

You met him at the train station, your chest heavy with the weight of goodbye. He was standing there, his suitcases at his feet, hoodie pulled up against the chill of the early morning. The finality of the moment was suffocating, the space between you growing with each passing second.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice low as you approached.

“Hey,” you replied, forcing a smile that felt like it might shatter any second.

Neither of you spoke right away, the sound of the bustling station drowning out the silence that hung between you. Neither of you could find the words that needed to be said.

“This isn’t goodbye,” he said finally, his voice resolute, though there was a tremor of uncertainty in his eyes. “I’ll text you every day. I’ll call. We’ll stay in touch, okay?”

You nodded, the tears that had been threatening to fall finally escaping. “Yeah. We will.”

“Hey,” he said gently, stepping closer and pulling you into a hug. His arms were warm, steady, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to forget everything else. You breathed in deeply, memorizing the way he felt, the way his heartbeat synced with yours.

“You’re going to be okay,” he whispered, his chin resting on top of your head. “I promise.”

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you simply clung to him, unwilling to let go, as though by holding on just a little longer, you could freeze this moment in time.

When the announcement for his train came over the speakers, he pulled away, his hands lingering on your shoulders. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

He gave you one last smile: a small, sincere smile, before grabbing his bags and heading toward the platform. You watched him walk away, your heart breaking with every step, every inch between you and him.

As the train began to pull away, you told yourself it wasn’t the end. That you’d see him again. That things would go back to the way they were.

But deep down, you knew better. Something had changed, something unspoken, something that couldn’t be undone. And though you didn’t know what the future held, you knew one thing for sure,it could never be the same again....

---------------------------------------------------------

The sunlight poured through your window, bright and uninvited, cutting through the darkness of the room. You groaned, burying your face deeper into the pillow, desperate to escape the sharp ring of the alarm that sliced through the silence. The day ahead already felt heavy, as if the weight of the world had settled on your shoulders before it even began. The memories that had resurfaced the night before, memories you had buried for years...still clung to your mind, unrelenting and vivid. Jisung was back in your life, but the gap of eight years between you was an insurmountable distance...those unanswered questions, the unspoken truths, and the silent wishes hung between you like an invisible wall that neither of you could breach.

You dragged yourself out of bed, the grogginess still clinging to you like a second skin, your body protesting against the demands of the day. The kitchen greeted you with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee, the scent wrapping around you like a brief respite from the chaos swirling inside your mind. You leaned against the counter, staring blankly out the window, watching the familiar morning rush of Seoul. People hurried past, weaving in and out of the crowded streets with practiced precision, their steps as frantic as your thoughts. The city felt different now, with Jisung back in it. Or maybe it was you who felt different...changed by the weight of the years that had passed and the memories that refused to stay buried.

It had been weeks since that fateful café meeting....the first time you had seen him again after so many years of silence. Since then, you and Jisung had slipped into an almost familiar rhythm, as though time had somehow softened the sharp edges of the past. Late-night texts, spontaneous meetups, shared laughter, it all seemed to flow with ease, as though no time had passed at all. But beneath the surface of every smile, every joke, every touch, there was something deeper—a shadow of the past, a lingering ache, a question that neither of you dared to ask. The years apart, the buried feelings, and the uncertainty of where you stood now,all of it hovered between you, a constant presence neither of you could escape.

You had resolved, at least for the time being, to keep things light. To avoid venturing into territory that might reopen old wounds. After all, wasn't it better to just be his friend than risk losing him altogether? The logic made sense, the choice seemed rational. But your heart, stubborn as always, refused to follow any kind of logic. It ached for him in ways you couldn’t control, pulling you in directions you weren’t ready to go. No matter how hard you tried to push the feelings down, to suppress the memories that wanted to flood back to the surface, they remained, relentless, unyielding, impossible to ignore.

And so, you stood there, staring out at the city that felt both familiar and foreign, wondering if the past was something you could ever truly outrun...

----------------------------------------------------------

That afternoon, you found yourself standing in front of the same café where everything had started—where you’d seen Jisung for the first time in eight long years. But today, it wasn’t a chance encounter. This meeting had a purpose, planned and initiated by him.

Jisung’s call from the morning had been simple and vague, yet it had thrown you off balance:

“Let’s grab lunch? I’ve got a surprise for you.”

A surprise. With Jisung, that could mean anything...something small and silly, or something that could shift the ground beneath your feet. Either way, your heart had been racing ever since.

Pushing open the door to the café, the familiar chime of the bell above welcomed you. Your eyes scanned the room until they landed on him. He was already at your usual table by the window, waving at you with that familiar boyish grin. His hair was slightly messy, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up casually, and he looked so at ease, so natural, that it was almost enough to lull you into believing nothing had changed.

“Hey, you’re early,” you said as you slid into the seat across from him, feigning nonchalance to hide the way your pulse quickened at the sight of him.

“Rare moment of responsibility,” he quipped, setting his phone down on the table. “Don’t get used to it.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I wasn’t planning to.”

As the waitress came to take your order, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him, trying to read the mood. There was a sparkle in his eyes, an almost childlike excitement, and you couldn’t help but feel curious and maybe a little nervous.

“So,” you started once the waitress left, “are you going to tell me what this surprise is, or are you just going to keep me guessing?”

Jisung leaned back in his chair, his grin widening. “Patience. Let’s eat first.”

You narrowed your eyes at him but played along. Lunch passed in a blur of conversation and laughter. He told you about his time in Busan, the struggles of chasing his dreams, the doubts that crept in on sleepless nights, and the small moments of triumph that kept him going. You shared stories of Seoul, talking about everything from the daily grind to the little changes in the city he used to know so well.

There was something comforting about it all, like slipping into a well-worn rhythm. But beneath the surface of your laughter and casual conversation was the unspoken truth, the questions, the what-ifs, the emotions that threatened to rise to the surface with every shared glance.

As the meal drew to a close, your patience finally snapped.

“Alright, spill it,” you said, leaning forward, your curiosity getting the better of you. “What’s the big surprise?”

Jisung’s grin turned sheepish as he reached into his bag, pulling out a small, neatly wrapped package. He held it out to you with an almost nervous energy.

“It’s nothing huge,” he said, his voice softening. “But I saw this and thought of you.”

You blinked, staring at the package in his hands. “You didn’t have to....”

“Just open it,” he interrupted, his eyes alight with anticipation.

You hesitated only for a moment before carefully peeling away the wrapping. What you revealed made your breath catch. It was a leather-bound notebook, beautifully embossed with intricate designs. But it wasn’t just the notebook that made your heart stumble.

As you opened it, the first few pages revealed doodles, small, playful sketches that were unmistakably his. Interspersed with the doodles were notes, scribbled in his familiar handwriting, filled with inside jokes and tiny fragments of your shared past. Flipping further, you found photos tucked between pages, memories you had long forgotten brought back to life in vivid detail.

“Is this…?” you murmured, your voice trailing off as your fingers skimmed over the pages, taking in every detail.

“It’s kind of like a scrapbook,” Jisung explained, rubbing the back of his neck. “I found some of our old stuff while unpacking and thought... I don’t know, you might like it. I started putting it together, and… yeah.”

Your fingers trembled slightly as you traced the edge of a photo - a candid shot of the two of you from college, your younger selves caught mid-laughter.

“Jisung, this is…” You looked up at him, your voice catching in your throat. “It’s amazing. Thank you.”

He smiled, the shyness in his expression softening into something warmer. “I figured it’s about time we started filling in the gaps, you know? From all those years apart.”

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. “Yeah. It’s perfect.”

But as you stared down at the notebook again, a bittersweet ache filled your chest. Every page, every sketch, every photo spoke of a connection you cherished. Yet they also served as a reminder of everything you couldn’t have. For all the love and care that had gone into this gift, for all the memories it brought back, there was one truth that hung in the air, unspoken and unchangeable.

Jisung didn’t feel the same way about you.

And no amount of shared nostalgia could rewrite that fact...

Later, as he walked you home, the air between you was filled with the kind of easy conversation that came naturally with him, light-hearted jokes, shared laughter, and fleeting glances that felt like secrets. It was almost as if the years apart hadn’t happened, as if the weight of the past had somehow dissolved in the rhythm of your steps. For a fleeting moment, it felt like old times.

His presence beside you was a quiet comfort, grounding you in a way you hadn’t realized you’d missed. The sound of his sneakers scuffing lightly against the pavement, the soft hum of the city around you, it all felt familiar, like slipping into a favorite old sweater that had been tucked away for too long.

“Thanks again for the notebook,” you said as you reached your building, clutching the gift tightly against your chest. “Seriously, it’s the best thing I’ve gotten in… well, years.”

He turned to you, his grin widening as he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked it.”

There was something about the way he looked at you just then, a flicker in his eyes, warm and unguarded, that made your pulse stutter. The city lights reflected faintly in his gaze, and for one impossible second, you thought you saw something there. Something deeper. Something more.

But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by his usual boyish charm. He smiled and took a playful step backward, rocking on his heels. “Goodnight, bestie.”

Your laugh came out soft and a little strained, the word bestie stinging in a way you hadn’t expected. It was a reminder of the line he had drawn between you, one he didn’t seem to realize you were desperate to cross.

“Goodnight, Jisung,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

You stood there, watching as he walked away, his figure growing smaller with each step until he was just a shadow against the glow of the streetlights. Your chest felt heavy, the ache of unspoken words pressing against your ribs.

For a moment, the urge to stop him surged within you, stronger than ever. To call out his name, to tell him everything...

But you stopped yourself. And for the first time in years, you let yourself wonder: maybe it wasn’t about what you said or didn’t say. Maybe it was about what he felt or didn’t feel in return ?

---------------------------------------------------------

The days turned into weeks, and before you knew it, Jisung’s return to your life had started to take its toll. Spending time with him felt like walking a tightrope, balanced precariously between joy and heartache. Every laugh you shared, every inside joke that came rushing back, every moment spent together,it was everything you’d ever wanted. But it was also a cruel reminder of everything you couldn’t have.

The little things were the hardest to bear. The way his laughter still made your heart skip, the way he instinctively remembered your favorite snacks or noticed the smallest changes in your mood. The way his voice softened when he said your name, as if it was a word meant to be spoken with care. Every interaction felt like it was pulling you deeper into an emotional quicksand. No matter how much you told yourself to keep things casual, to not overthink, the feelings you’d buried years ago rose to the surface, stronger and more relentless than ever.

It was exhausting. The constant battle within yourself...the longing to be close to him and the fear of being hurt again. The more time you spent with Jisung, the clearer it became: your heart wasn’t built to endure this. Not again.

So, you did the only thing you thought might save you. You started to pull away.

At first, it was subtle. A missed text here, a vague excuse there.

When he asked to hang out, you’d claim you were busy with work or that you weren’t feeling well. You convinced yourself it was temporary, that a little distance would give you the time and space you needed to get your emotions under control.

He didn’t question it at first. When you started skipping out on coffee dates or responding to his texts hours late with apologetic emojis and half-hearted excuses, Jisung didn’t push. He let it slide, brushing it off as you being busy or caught up with work. “It happens,” he’d say with a grin, his tone light and understanding. That was just who he was, always patient, always willing to give you the space you needed.

But as the days stretched into weeks, the excuses piled up, and the distance between you became impossible to ignore. Every invitation was met with, “Maybe next time,” or, “I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.” You stopped lingering over late-night texts, stopped sharing the small details of your day that you used to send him without a second thought.

And every time you turned him down, every time you chose silence over connection, you felt the guilt clawing at you. It was suffocating, that constant push and pull between wanting to protect yourself and not wanting to hurt him. But in your mind, this was the only way. Keeping your heart intact meant keeping your distance.

Except, it wasn’t working.

Avoiding Jisung didn’t dull your feelings, it only made them sharper. Every time you ignored his text, you’d find yourself staring at your phone minutes later, wondering if he was thinking of you. Every time you saw something that reminded you of him.... a song you both loved, a stupid meme he’d laugh at, you had to fight the urge to send it to him. The more you tried to pull away, the more you missed him.

And it didn’t take long for Jisung to notice.

At first, it was subtle, small, hesitant comments when you did see him. “You’ve been really busy lately, huh?” he’d say, his tone casual but his eyes searching. You’d nod and mumble something about work, trying to avoid the way his gaze lingered on you, as if he was trying to read between the lines.

But Jisung wasn’t the type to let things go for long. One day, after you’d bailed on plans for the third time that week, he called and said something that stopped you in your tracks....

“Did I do something wrong?”

You stared at the screen, your chest tightening. The words were simple, but they carried the weight of everything you’d been trying to avoid.

“If I messed up, just tell me. I don’t want things to get weird between us.”

Weird. That’s what he thought this was, a misunderstanding, a bump in the road. He didn’t know how hard you were trying to keep your feelings buried, how every moment with him felt like walking a tightrope between happiness and heartbreak.

Your fingers hovered over the mute button, a dozen responses swirling in your mind. You wanted to tell him the truth, to spill everything you’d been holding back. But the thought of losing him, of ruining what you still had, froze you in place.

Finally, you answered back “It’s not you. I’ve just been overwhelmed with work. I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise.”

He replied almost instantly.

“Okay. Just let me know if you need anything, yeah? I’m here.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, but the relief was short-lived. Because as much as you wanted to believe that he’d buy your excuse, you could feel the doubt in his words.

And you knew, deep down, that you couldn’t keep this up forever....

----------------------------------------------------------

It had been over a month since you’d last seen him when Jisung finally confronted you. The day had been long, and you were heading home, headphones on, the city noise muffled by a soothing playlist. The sun was setting, painting the sky in soft hues of gold and pink, and you were thankful for the solitude. That was until your name cut through the air, sharp and unmistakable.

“Y/N!”

You froze, your heart sinking as you recognized his voice. Turning, you saw Jisung jogging toward you, his expression a mix of determination and something you couldn’t quite place,anger, maybe? Concern?

“Jisung,” you said, pulling out your headphones, your voice tinged with guilt.

“What’s going on?” he demanded, his tone firm but not unkind.

“What do you mean?” you replied, feigning confusion as you shifted your weight nervously.

“Don’t do that,” he said, stepping closer, his gaze piercing. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You’ve been avoiding me, Y/N. For weeks. And I want to know why."

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” you lied weakly, looking anywhere but at him.

“Really?” he said, crossing his arms. “Because it feels like I’ve been chasing a ghost. You barely respond to my texts, you cancel plans left and right and when I try to call, it goes straight to voicemail. So, tell me....what’s really going on?”

Your chest tightened, and you could feel your carefully constructed walls cracking. “I’ve been busy,” you mumbled, knowing how hollow the excuse sounded.

“Busy?” he repeated, his frustration evident. “Too busy to even say hi? Too busy to talk to someone you called your best friend?”

The word “best friend” stung, and you flinched visibly.

Jisung noticed. “What is it?” he asked, his tone softening. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” you said quickly, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “It’s not you. It’s...”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “Don’t say it’s you, because we both know that’s not true.”

You sighed deeply, your shoulders slumping. “Can we not do this here?”

He hesitated, then gestured toward a nearby bench under a line of cherry blossom trees that had already begun to bloom, their petals swirling gently in the breeze. “Fine. Let’s talk.”

The walk to the bench felt like an eternity, and when you finally sat down, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you said at last, your voice trembling.

“Do what?” he asked, leaning closer, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“Pretend,” you whispered. “Pretend like I’m okay just being your friend when I’m not.”

He blinked, clearly taken aback. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” You swallowed hard, your heart racing. “I’m saying I’ve been in love with you for years, Jisung. Since college. And I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to ruin what we had. But then Nari...”

“Nari?” he interrupted, his confusion stark.

“Yeah, Nari,” you said, bitterness creeping into your voice. “The girl you were dating. The one who told me you weren’t interested in me, that you only saw me as a friend.”

His face shifted from confusion to disbelief. “Y/N, I don’t know who Nari is.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean you don’t know her? She told me...”

“I don’t care what she told you,” he said, his voice firm. “It wasn’t true. I never said that. And for the record, I’ve never dated anyone named Nari.”

You stared at him, the ground beneath you seeming to shift. “But she…”

“Y/N,” he said, his voice soft but resolute, “if you’re talking about that random girl who used to hang out at our college meetups, she wasn’t even my type. She was just… there.”

Your mind reeled, the memory of Nari’s smug smile flashing in your mind. “She lied?”

“Looks like it,” he said, his tone laced with frustration. “But that’s not what matters right now.”

“What does?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

“You,” he said simply. “And the fact that I’ve been in love with you since college, too.”

Your eyes widened, and you felt your heart stop. “What?”

“I’m serious,” he said, leaning closer. “I thought I was being obvious back then. I always made excuses to be around you, to make you laugh, to sit next to you in every class. But you never seemed interested, so I… I let it go.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, the weight of years of misunderstandings crashing down on you. “I thought you didn’t care,” you said, your voice breaking.

And I thought you didn’t,” he replied, his hand reaching out to cover yours. “But I’m done assuming.”

He leaned closer, his gaze searching yours. “Tell me I’m not too late.”

You shook your head, tears spilling over as a laugh bubbled out of you. “You’re not too late.”

His smile was soft, tentative, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was happening. And then, slowly, he leaned in, his hand cupping your cheek as his lips met yours.

The world seemed to still, the noise of the city fading into nothing. His kiss was gentle but sure, as though he’d been waiting for this moment as long as you had. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping him like he might disappear if you let go.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he let out a shaky breath. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

You laughed softly, your heart feeling lighter than it had in years. “Maybe I do.”

A loud meow broke the moment, and both of you turned to see a stray cat sitting by Jisung’s feet, its wide eyes fixed on him as if demanding attention.

Jisung groaned, though his smile never wavered. “Even the cats can’t leave me alone.”

You laughed, wiping at your tears. “Maybe it’s a sign.”

“A sign of what?” he asked, his grin turning playful.

“That you’re stuck with me now,” you teased, squeezing his hand.

“Good,” he said, his voice warm and certain. “Because I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

As the two of you walked home hand in hand, the stray cat trailing behind like a self-appointed chaperone companion, you couldn’t help but smile. For the first time in a long time, everything felt right....

*ੈ✩Tags - @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @yangbbokari @theo4eve   @livelovelaughmiko @silverstarburst @galaxycatdrawz @skzoologist @shua-f4lmings @iknowyouknowminho @krisstheidiot @hyunjinhoexxx @gho-ster @ezlynkisses @elmoslungcancer @b1nn1e-1s-cut3 @seungseung-minmin @cuddlylonelyperson @jeonginsleftcheek @oreoqueen @freekyfangirl

Comment your @ If you wish to be added or removed from this list ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

*ੈ✩ENDNOTE - Everything Here is a work of fiction and my own imagination. This does not represent the real life characteristics of Stray Kids. Make sure to like, reblog comment, and follow me for new updates!

[thequeenofcurses]

Your Birthday Surprise (f!Reader x Sukuna)

Summary: Sukuna takes you out for your birthday (sfw)

wk: 1300

(re-uploading this so I can organize it properly)

A/N Sorry I meant for this to be a short drabble, but I got carried away. It’s my first real jjk story post on here! I wrote this for @yuujispinkhair, who is someone that is super inspiring to me and her stories make me s happy. Happy Birthday to her!

Part 2 (nsfw)

10:45 pm

You checked your phone and sighed. Why did I even bother staying up this late on a Monday, you thought to yourself. Tomorrow’s just another day anyways.

You turn on one of your favorite romance audiobooks and set your phone to sleep mode.

11:59 pm

buzz buzz The vibration from your phone made you open your eyes, but exhaustion won the fight and you shut them close again. 

8:15 am

“Wake up, woman,” came a deep, sultry voice from your doorway. “Eat these while they’re fresh”.

“Huh?” you croak out, throat still dry from barely waking up. Your boyfriend Sukuna stood nearly as tall as your bedroom doorframe. “Did you warm me up leftovers or something?”

“Tch,” he rolled his eyes and walked into your room, sitting atop your bed. “You really thought I would give you leftovers, today?”

“Well, it’s just Tuesday,” you responded nonchalantly while stretching. Your hair was messy, you're missing one sock, and you even had some drool on your cheek; yet Sukuna stared at you like you were the Mona Lisa.

“Hmph,” he scoffed. “Woman, it’s your birthday. So you’re going to eat one of these cupcakes, shower, then get ready to have the best damn birthday ever.” You blink back surprised that he remembered, but butterflies fill your stomach nonetheless. You’ve only been dating the town’s local bad boy, Sukuna, for a few weeks. 

You nod and take the red velvet with dark chocolate cupcake into your hands, the confetti wrapping still warm. The aroma from the dessert filled your nose as you leaned down to take a bite. “Mhmm,” you softly moan to yourself. “This is delicious. Thank you”

“I texted you last night,” Sukuna waves off your thanks. “I wanted… to be the first person to tell you.”

As you finished the last bite of the world’s best cupcake, you gasped. You haven’t checked your phone since last night.

11:59pm, yesterday

Sukuna sent you a chat!

It’s your day, isn’t it? Don’t get used to all this attention. But since I’m feeling generous, I might grace you with my presence later. Happy birthday, brat.

Your heart skipped a beat reading his message. Speechless, you rose from your spot on the bed and jumped into his strong, warm arms. “Oh? Can’t keep your hands off me, huh?” he said with a smirk. “Guess I can’t blame you.”

“Thank you, Kuna. The cupcake was delicious.” You blushed, realizing you were still unkempt.  “I’ll go get ready now.” You walked to your bathroom and hopped into the shower.

“Wear something warm!” he shouted from the other side of the door. “You’re not getting my jacket if you get cold.”

You are dressed in a black sweater dress with dark maroon leggings, and black winter uggs. Your makeup was very natural looking, yet accentuated all of your best features. You topped the look with a golden bracelet that had an ‘S’ inside of a heart. Sukuna gave it to you when you two made your relationship official. When you come out of the bathroom, you find Sukuna sitting on your couch.

“Wow,” he said while standing up to meet you. Tch. Who are you trying to impress looking like that? “Not bad. Try not to let all this attention go to your head though.” Sukuna smirked before reaching down into his pocket. “One more thing.” He pulled out a black box, but before he could open it, it slipped out of his hand. “Shit,” he muttered. He bent down on one knee to grab it.

“Oh. Sukuna… I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” you blushed sheepishly. 

“Huh?” Sukuna frowns, not immediately understanding what you mean. Oh “I’m not proposing woman. It slipped from my hands.”

You blushed once again, feeling even more awkward about the misunderstanding. “Trust me, when I propose, it’ll be very lavish and grand. I can promise you that. Here, turn around.” Sukuna opens the black box, pulling out an alluring gold necklace. The pendant was in the shape of the ‘N’N’ type symbol tattooed

 on Sukuna’s forehead. It was littered with diamonds and it had a red ruby in the middle. He gently pushes your hair out of the way, before placing the necklace onto you and locking it into place. “There. You look perfect. Mine” He whispered the last word in your ear.

You looked in the mirror before you left, loving the necklace. In fact, you kept touching it all day long to make sure it was there. First you two go see a movie, Red One, in a theater that was way too cold. Damn, I should’ve brought a coat. I thought this sweater would’ve been enough. Next, you two go ice skating. Sukuna being perfect at everything he does, skated around on the ice flawlessly. You stumble and slip a few times, but Sukuna is always there to catch you. “Tch. Can’t even stay on your feet? What am I going to do with you?" he said with a shit-eating smirk. You clung to him during most of your session, but he never complained.

After your ice skating date, he takes you to get dinner, then your favorite ice cream shop. Two gingerbread scoops for you and one strawberry scoop for him. You two sit outside by the fireplace, eating your individual ice cream cones before the fire suddenly goes out.

“Shit,” you muttered, starting to shake from the cold. “I thought this sweater would be enough to keep me warm.”

"I told you to dress warm, didn’t I woman?” Sukuna scoffed, taking off his coat and draping it around you. “But no, you just had to be stubborn." You two quickly finish your ice cream and then head back to your apartment. 

The sky was a hue of oranges and a hint of pink, like his hair, as the sun was setting on your drive back home. Sukuna walked you up to your apartment door.

Your hand subconsciously returned to your neck, fiddling with the new necklace. “Thank you for the gift, Sukuna,” you said trying to hide your smile. “I didn’t expect today to be as great as it was, and it was only a great day because of you.”

“Tch. Don’t make such a big deal out of it. I only got it because I felt like it." Sukuna shook his head in denial. “Besides, I can’t take all the credit.” He walked closer to you, nearly pressing you up against your apartment door. “Your parents made one hell of a daughter.” 

Your heart fluttered at the compliment. You wanted to thank him again, but couldn’t find the right words, so you kissed him. The kiss was like snow meeting the sun. It was freezing cold outside, but his lips and his body is what kept you warm. It was passionate, yet demanding all the same.

“I hope you had a good birthday,” he said after breaking the kiss. He started to walk away before pointing at the necklace "Just don’t lose it, alright? It’s yours."

A/N I AM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG! I wanted to write a spicy scene after they got back to her apartment but this was already getting too long. Idk if yuujispinkhair or anyone would even want to read that. Anyway, happy birthday to her and anyone else born during winter!

Part 2 (nsfw)

banner: @cafekitsune

[hees-mine]

L. Heeseung - Wrong One

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader!

Warnings: mentions of smut, cursing, reader slaps heeseung, friends with benefits, alcohol, angst.

Genre: friends with benefits.

WC: 4,582k

-

“Are you staying the night?” You asked heeseung, the guy you’ve been friends with benefits with for four months, as he rolled over on the opposite side of the bed, breathing heavily.

You two had just finished your weekly routine. By routine, you meant the both of you fucking every last ounce of energy out of each other.

He wipes his palm over his face, wiping away the sweat that gathered at his hairline. “Nah,” he says and sighs shortly after. “I never stay, you know that.” he sits up on the bed once he’s regained enough stamina.

“Yeah…. I do know that” you reply disappointedly and pulled the blankets up to your chest while he stands up, searching for all his discarded clothes.

“So….” He starts out rolling the used condom down his shaft and tying it off before tossing it in your trash bin. “I was thinking we could do it at my place next week. My parents are out of town on vacation.” he pulls his boxers around his waist and then grabs his shirt that was thrown off in a corner, slipping it over his head. “That way, we can go for as long as we want and be as loud as we want to.” he turns to you and gives you a flirty wink, to which you only respond with an airy laugh and a forced half smile. “So, what do you think? Will you be coming over?” He questions once he’s fully dressed.

“Y-yeah, I will be.” You try your best to sound convincing like the idea of meeting him just for sex the next week was just as exciting as it was four months ago when this whole friends-with-benefits thing started.

“Okay, I’ll see you next week, don’t be late.” he heads to the door to your bedroom, slipping on his shoes.

“I won’t” you smile half heartedly and without so much as a bye he opens the door leaving you to clean up all by yourself.

“I know,” he smirks. “You can’t resist me.”

-

You on your way? It’s fifteen past ten.

You barely even noticed the alert tone go off on your phone if it wasn’t for the music in the club changing tracks you wouldn’t have.

Rolling your eyes at the screen, you dryly reply.

That was tonight? I totally forgot

You send to him.

How could you forget about me? We’ve been doing this for the past four months without fail.

He sits up on his bed, squinting slightly at his phone screen.

Must’ve slipped my mind once I had a few drinks.

It didn’t, but you couldn’t see him, not because of how you were feeling tonight. You needed some drinks to get your mind off of him, and you’re so glad your friend decided to accompany you as well.

Drinks? How many did you have? And where did you get them from?

He chews on his index fingernail softly while waiting for a reply.

I’m too drunk to answer all that, but I’m out with some friends.

You reply and down another shot, not caring about your missed date with heeseung.

I can come pick you up, give you some water, and we can finish where we left off if you want

That’s okay. I got a ride.

Oh

From who?

His name is Jake, but I really have to go now. I’ll talk to you sometime later.

Text me when you get home.

Heeseung sighed putting his phone aside and sighing. “Just great now what am I gonna do?” He looked down at the tent in his lap and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed you couldn’t make it he literally changed his sheets and took a shower and got his room ready for the occasion only for you to cancel on him.

Oh well, his parents would still be on vacation for another six days, and you and him could make up for lost time, but for now, he was gonna go to bed and try to forget about the bulge in his underwear.

-

Next week arrived, and you still hadn’t gotten together with heeseung at his place nor at school. Even though he texted you every day, you still hadn’t found time to fit him into your schedule at school. You’d always be running “late” or “not feeling well,” and you left all his text on seen, leaving him to believe you were avoiding him.

Especially after it had been two weeks since you hadn’t bothered to get in touch with him, could you really be that busy for two whole weeks?

Luckily he was able to flag you down today before you left school. “Y/n wait up!” He calls and you immediately stop in your tracks and turn around to face him for the first time in weeks you couldn’t avoid him forever.

“Hey,” you smile softly at him.

“Hey,” he says, sorta out of breath from running to catch up to you. “Just wanted to catch up. We haven’t seen each other in quite a while.”

“Yeah, about that, sorry.” You lowered your head, unable to make eye contact with him. “I’ve just been busy.”

“I see” he starts to walk beside you. “How about now? Do you got any free time for me?” He turns his head to the side to look at you.

“Sure,” you say, feeling unsure you wanted to be with him. You really did, but you wanted more than just sex, and he couldn’t give that to you. Sadly, he made it obvious, so distancing yourself from him felt like the best decision.

“Good, it’s only been two weeks, but I feel like I’m going crazy without feeling you.” he goes behind your back, hugging you as you both waddle down the street to his home. “Hmm, come to my place,” he whispers in your ear, kissing down your neck as he holds you by your torso. “Please?”

“Okay, hee.” You could feel his lips curling into a smile against your skin.

“Hmm, thank goodness I need to feel you so fucking bad” he nibbles your ear rubbing his cheek against yours as he walks you to his house.

Once you enter his house you trudge upstairs after him the sinking feeling making it’s way to your stomach as much as you wanted him the feeling of knowing you would never be with him fully was making you feel down and you barely even wanted to have this friends with benefits relationship with him anymore.

He kicked off his shoes and tossed his backpack to the side. “Come here baby” he sat down on the bed and patted his lap calling you over to him.

Read full story HERE!

-

[wayfinders-coven]

Hi there. First off, I’m sorry my DNI was not posted on this blog but outside of this discussion, do not interact with me. Feel free to respond though. Other endos, go away.

I am having this discussion in good faith, but I have a poor opinion of the endogenic community and I am not trying to be polite about it. The way i say things might sting some, but I have too much to say to take the direct autism out of my tone. I apologize in advance and thank you for your understanding.

Also, i will be putting “non-disordered plurality” in quotes because… i still don’t believe in it, but there’s an explanation for everything and I’m not trying to deny the experience you do have, but I would like to highlight that it may not be what you think it is.

-

First: you can say all you want that all of the above is true, and honestly I do not really care because endos do not keep me up at night. But even through your entire rebuttal you call endogenics with disabled terms, all while claiming that you’re different things.

System is a disabled term, for disabled people, not for “endogenic plurals” or anyone non-disordered.

Using it as a “non-disordered plural” is ableism. You are taking words away from people with real and serious disorders when you use them to spread information about “non-disordered plurality”. Those words are not for you. Please respect that. Use your own words.

On a similar line, endos also use tags containing “system”, “alter”, “split”, etc. Anecdotally, you haven’t seen it, because maybe you stay out of our way, but others don’t.

[Edit: Checked your profile: you *personally* use system! Please stop doing that. And please don’t say you don’t, it is all over your profile!]

Also, A LOT of you guys love to use “traumascum” when (disordered) systems don’t want to interact with you! That is top tier ableism, bordering on entire slur usage at this rate. You guys as a community *invented a slur* to be ableist to systems. Just be aware of that.

To sum up this section: Endos are generally an ableist group, either stealing our words or using a slur they made for us. They should not be doing that regardless of the truth of “non-disordered plurality”.

-

Next: The ICD recognizes spiritual practices an example of multiple *personality states*. It does not recognize the “plurality” most endos claim to have, which are either real symptoms of a CDD, or mimicking a CDD.

Also, I hate to be this guy, but when something is normal for someone, it can’t always initially be reported as “distressing”; It doesn’t become distressing until you realize what happened to you, and sometimes it becomes undistressing after you accept it. I know clinicians wont diagnose unless you show distress, but I firmly still believe that if you have all the symptoms of a CDD and yet don’t feel distressed, you’re still disordered. CDDs are traumagenic neurodevelopmental disorders, that doesn’t go away because you become okay with it.

Another thing about this: The cut off date is a theory, and only works for otherwise-NT kids. If you have a neurodevelopmental disorder (like autism for example), your “cut off” date is a lot later. Also, your small-T traumas count too; You don’t have to have been seriously abused or anything to need to cope with life by developing a CDD. Kids brains are the ones in charge; ‘serious trauma’ is whatever your kid-brain fet it was. Just think about that.

(The “im trauma-endo because my trauma happened when i was 10” crowd are the ones i worry about the most, because you aren’t endo just because the trauma happened ‘late’, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you.)

-

Sidebar, i do not have time to vet all those doc sources you sent me in addition to all this, but i will eventually rb with my findings. Thanks for understanding. I will concede that part to you as you did present something, and I can’t debunk you right now in good faith.

-

You said something interesting here:

You cannot be ableist about something that *you claim* is not a disorder. Ableism is discrimination or prejudice based on disability status. This is the point we keep having to hammer home for you.

And I’m sorry that it hurts your feelings when people point it out, but it’s necessary: If you’re talking about the pointing out of delusions, I have delusional episodes and I can personally assure you, I say it with concern for some of you. I genuinely think a good amount of you are covering up whatever trauma you endured, or are possibly suffering from a delusional disorder. It is not ableist to say so.

[Edit 2: If your claim is true (your heart symptoms get worse and you experience physical pain when told these things), that is **POTENTIALLY** indicative of a larger issue! If available, please see a doctor, and if not, watch your health and stay out of syscourse.]

We ((disordered) systems) get to decide what “real systems” are because, and say it with me: SYSTEM IS A DISABILITY TERM. We get to decide how it’s used, just like nonverbal autistics get to tell selective-mute autistics to get *their* own words. Words mean things. Get your own.

-

Bottom line, be “plural” all you want, but I’m sorry to tell you that what 99% “endogenics” claim is non-disordered plurality, just isn’t, and it’s dangerous to spread the misinformation I just had to debunk in this post.

For all these reasons, i firmly believe that Endos and their community full of what OP described, and predatory people who want to keep it that way.

I don’t usually interact with people who claim to be endo, because I feel this way, but I know y’all have a right to your beliefs. You need to think about them though. And you need to not steal words from the disabled to express them. Thanks.

I hope you understand and take the time to read the whole post.

-Juniper

what actually are endogenic systems?

• Endogenic is an umbrella term that refers to all systems that are not completely traumagenic in origin.

Why are some people claiming to be endo?

• people claiming to be endogenic systems may:

• be misdiagnosed, they may not have DID/OSDD and may have a different disorder.

• may not have researched. Which is not a excuse. You cannot claim to have any disorder without any level of research.

• they may be a traumatic system in denial of there trauma.

• singlets with fractitious disorders [Factitious disorders are conditions in which a person deliberately and consciously acts as if they have a physical or mental illness when they are not really sick.]

•singlets misidentifying normal experiences

• singlets who enjoy "being a system" finding it fun etc

Why can't endos exist?

• as previously stated. DID/OSDD is a TRAUMA RESPONSE DISORDER. you cannot have it without trauma literally.

• OSDD/DID occurs because of childhood trauma between the ages 4-9 (commonly). Because extreme trauma happens when the majority of your "personality" is formed by then. the trauma interferes with your personality development, causing the formation of other alters to help cope with that trauma / deal with the brunt of the trauma and survive day to day life.

• OCDD/DIDs can only be formed through trauma.

Why are endos so harmful?

• they spread very harmful misinformation. (Even the idea of being endogenic, forming without trauma)

they spread dangerous misinformation and stigma (demonising roles (persecutors for example)) impossible beliefs (alter death, sys hopping etc)There growing presence in general on many platforms

• endos trying to say that they have any experience to anything close to the serious trauma that causes DID/ OSDD is so so harmful to actual DID/ OSDD have had to live through and survive.

• WE ARE ALREADY STIGMATISED AND DEMONSIED IN ALL SORTS OF MEDIA AS IS.

• IT IS SO HARMFUL AND HURTFUL TO SYSTEMS WHO HAVE ACTUALLY SURVIVED AND BEEN THROUGH THE HORRORS AND TRAUMA THAT CAUSES DID/OSDD - OUR TRAUMAS ARE NOT BADGES FOR YOU TO WEAR.

- blurred asf

[hueningstar]

UR DOM BEOM WRITINGS ARE BOTH SO GOOD!! im actually obsessed… could u write one about a forbidden smut during a music show with dom idol!beom + idol!reader??❤️

Forbidden Stage

Summary : Backstage, Beomgyu tempts you to break all the rules. Will you give in?

────୨ৎ────

A/N : Thank you for reading! Feel free to share your thoughts or drop any requests—I'm always open to hearing from you! Also,I've been feeling like I've been writing too much abt Beomgyu lately😭🙏

────୨ৎ────

Pairing : idol!beomgyu × idol!reader

Warnings : sexual tension, nipple licking, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it)

MDNI

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The bustling backstage of a music show was alive with hurried footsteps, muffled conversations, and the faint echo of idols rehearsing their lines. You adjusted your in-ear monitors, glancing over the setlist pinned to the wall, heart pounding not just with nerves but with the electric tension you couldn’t seem to shake.

Beomgyu’s gaze burned into you from across the room, subtle but unmistakable. His smirk was laced with a challenge, daring you to break the unspoken rule you both swore to follow. The tight confines of this shared space made everything feel sharper—his scent lingering in the air, his voice barely above a whisper as he brushed past you moments earlier.

You knew better than to play with fire, especially here, surrounded by cameras and staff. But when it came to Beomgyu, restraint was never your strong suit.

Tonight, boundaries weren’t just blurred—they were about to be shattered.

The room buzzed with energy, stylists bustling around, idols chatting, and the faint hum of the music stage echoing down the hallway. But none of it registered to you. Not when Beomgyu’s presence was so overpowering, so dangerously close.

He leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with a look that sent shivers down your spine. His dark eyes bore into yours, and the smirk tugging at his lips spoke volumes—he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

You tried to focus on your phone, pretending to scroll through meaningless messages, but your trembling hands betrayed you. Beomgyu took one deliberate step closer, then another, until he was standing behind you, his breath hot against your ear.

“You’re shaking,” he whispered, voice low and taunting. “Nervous about something… or someone?”

You turned to glare at him, but the heat pooling in your stomach made your defiance falter. “Shouldn’t you be preparing for your performance?” you muttered, trying to sound unaffected.

His chuckle was soft but filled with a wicked promise. “Oh, I am. Just not for the stage.”

Before you could respond, a staff member called your name, snapping you out of the magnetic pull Beomgyu always seemed to have. You shot him a warning look, but he only smiled, stepping back with a wink.

The night was far from over, and you both knew it. The forbidden game you were playing wasn’t just reckless—it was exhilarating. And Beomgyu? He was determined to win.

As you hurried off to your cue, Beomgyu's words echoed in your mind, making your heart race and your palms sweat. You tried to focus on the script, on the performance, but all you could think about was the way he looked at you, the way his breath felt against your ear.

As you made your way on stage, the bright lights momentarily blinded you. The crowd's cheers were a distant hum in your ears as your mind was consumed by the heated tension backstage. Beomgyu's whispered promise lingered, making your skin tingle with anticipation.

The performance was a blur, your movements automatic as your thoughts drifted back to Beomgyu. You could almost feel his gaze on you, his presence in the audience. When the final note faded, you rushed offstage, not bothering to wait for your fellow idols.

As you emerged from the stage wing, you collided with a solid chest. Strong hands gripped your arms to steady you, and a familiar chuckle rumbled through the air. "In a hurry to get somewhere?" Beomgyu teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief in the dim backstage lighting.

You stumbled back slightly, your cheeks flushed. "I should be asking you the same question," you retorted, trying to regain your composure. "Weren't you supposed to be in hair and makeup?"

"Makeup? Who needs makeup when I've got a performance waiting in the dressing room..." he purred, his voice carrying just loud enough for only your ears. He took a deliberate step forward, backing you against the wall, caging you in with his arms.

His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense. "You realize what this looks like, right?" he whispered, one hand trailing down your arm, causing goosebumps to erupt. "Us... alone... in this dark corner..." His lips hovered dangerously close to your neck.

Shivers run down your spine as his words caress your ear, his closeness overwhelming your senses. You try to form a witty comeback, but your words catch in your throat. Instead, a soft gasp escapes your lips as his fingertips dance along your collarbone.

He takes advantage of your quiet, parting his lips against your pulse point. "You always smell so good," he murmurs, his voice muffled against your skin. His hands roam lower, resting on your waist possessively. "Tell me to stop."

Your heart races, pounding in your chest like a drum. You know you should say the words, but they refuse to come. Instead, you tilt your head to the side, giving him better access to your neck. His breath is warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

He kisses a trail up your neck, his lips leaving a blazing path in their wake. His hands tighten around your waist, holding you in place as he claims your mouth in a hungry kiss. You melt against him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you surrender to his touch.

His kiss becomes deeper, more insistent, as his hands begin to roam lower. He breaks away only long enough to whisper, "Last chance," against your lips before he kisses you again, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt. "Say it." he demands between kisses.

His hands shake as he lifts your shirt over your head, tossing it aside. He breaks away only long enough to remove his own shirt, revealing chiseled abs and broad shoulders. He pulls you onto his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist as he nuzzles against your collarbone.

You run your fingers through his hair, tugging gently as he kisses and bites at your skin. His hands roam freely over your bare back, squeezing your hips possessively. He buries his face against your neck, inhaling your scent deeply as he whispers against your skin. "So fucking beautiful."

His hands slip under your back to unhook your bra, tossing it aside without a second thought. He takes a moment to admire your breasts before pulling you closer, nuzzling between them.

His mouth finds your nipple, teasing and sucking with skillful purpose while one hand grips your waist tightly. "Your heart's racing," he notes between kisses, looking up at you with those intense bedroom eyes. "Does it turn you on knowing we could get caught?"

Your cheeks flush, and you nod slightly, unable to speak as he continues to tease your sensitive nipple. "Fuck," he groans, his other hand reaching down to rub your thigh, his fingers creeping higher. "You're so fucking wet already."

He wastes no time slipping his hand inside your panties, groaning as his fingers meet your slick heat. "God, I love how ready you are for me." His fingertips circle your clit slowly, teasingly, as he leans in to capture your lips in another searing kiss.

His kisses become more demanding as he increases the pressure against your most sensitive spot, causing you to gasp against his mouth. "That's it, baby," he whispers, maintaining that tantalizing rhythm while his other hand moves to cup your breast. "Come for me."

He can feel you tensing, getting close, so he suddenly stops, pulling his hand away entirely. He looks up at you with a wicked grin, his fingers glistening with your desire. "Turn around,"

He helps you shift in his lap so you're facing away from him, then pulls you back against his chest. "Need easier access," he whispers huskily in your ear as his hands slide down your body to your hips. "Don't make a sound."

His fingers are cunningly persuasive as they slowly trail along your inner thigh, making you spread your legs wider to maintain balance. He uses his thumb to slowly part your folds from behind, his fingers splaying out beneath to support your weight. "Almost..." he whispers.

Without warning, he lines himself up and thrusts upward hard and deep, making you gasp loudly. "Shhh..." he whispers in your ear, one hand covering your mouth while the other grips your hip firmly. "Did I tell you to make noise?"

He muffles your whimpers with his hand as he starts to move, his hips lifting to meet his thrusts upwards, filling you completely and hitting spots you didn't know existed in this position. He's rough, punishing even, his fingers digging bruises into your hip.

He can feel you trying to muffle your cries against his palm, but he's too heavy, too deep, too much. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you back onto him even harder, his face burying in your neck to silence you further. "Quiet..."

His breath is hot against your skin as he continues to fuck you relentlessly, the force of his thrusts making your whole body shake. You're sobbing quietly, your face pressed against the couch as he uses you for his pleasure. "Fuck, you're so tight..."

He lets out a guttural groan as he starts to fuck you even harder, his balls slapping against your clit with every brutal thrust. His hand still covers your mouth, but his arm trembles with the effort of holding you silent. "Gonna...fuck...you...quiet..."

His whole body suddenly goes rigid as he comes hard and deep inside you, stifling your cries with his hand "Take it...take all of it..." He keeps moving through his release, drawing out every last moment of pleasure before finally stilling. "Good girl..."

He slowly releases your mouth from his grip, letting you catch your breath as he remains buried deep inside you. "Mmm, you did so well, taking everything I gave you." he purrs approvingly, his hands gently caressing your sides now.

He slowly withdraws, his release dripping down your thighs as he pulls out. He turns you to face him, his hands gripping your thighs possessively as he spreads your legs wider. "Look at me..."

He runs his hands up your thighs, his fingers digging in possessively as he stares into your eyes, searching for something. He slowly brings one hand between your thighs, his fingers parting your folds to expose his release dripping out of you. "Mine..."

Beomgyu's intense gaze softens as he cups your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek. "You're everything to me," he whispers, his voice filled with raw emotion. He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, a stark contrast to the passion that consumed moments before.

Pulling you into his embrace, he wraps his arms tightly around you, burying his face in your neck. "Let's stay like this for a while." he murmurs, his tone vulnerable. You nod silently, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against yours as the world outside fades away.

In his arms, you find solace, knowing that despite the intensity, his love for you runs even deeper.

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[starlitsprout]

Shared Walls (Peter Parker x Reader) (I)

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Summary:

Finding a roommate in New York City is like searching for water in the middle of the desert- or your case, a decent person who isn’t a creep and who can afford to pay rent on time. Just when you were about to call it quits, you stumbled upon a post created by Peter Parker. After doing some digging around, making sure this guy wasn’t an axe-swinging murderer, you find out that he’s a quiet, nerdy college student, who looks like he won’t chop you up to bits. You message him, and after some talking back and forth, you agree to be roommates.

At first, living with Peter Parker was great! Peter is polite, cleans up after himself, pays his half of the rent on time, and is usually too occupied with school or work to cause any drama. Perfect roommate right? But after a year and a half of living together,  things turn strange, when your “perfect” roommate turns up with strange mysterious bruises and gets home at odd hours of the night. What could he be up to? 

Word count: 2.5K

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*THUD*

A muffled thud coming from the room next to yours jolts you awake, dragging you from your dreams. For a moment, you lay still, blinking into the darkness of your room, heart thumping. You try to take in some deep breaths in an attempt to lull yourself back to sleep and prevent a heart attack. You know it's probably just Peter, coming back late, for the fifth time this week, from what you guess is either work or another late-night study session with Ned and MJ. 

Just as you’re about to fall back to sleep, the sound of something–or someone–stumbling into furniture, followed by loud hushed cursing, wakes you right up again. You sit up in your bed, annoyed, and rub your eyes in frustration, your eyes then dart to the glowing red numbers of your alarm clock. 

3:25 AM.

You let out a loud sign, and run your hand through your hair. 

What on earth was Peter doing this time? 

Pushing back your covers, you sat up, maybe a bit too quickly as you felt a bit light-headed, or maybe that was just the sleep deprivation finally kicking in. No matter what the reason was, you stumble out of your room, towards Peter’s. 

As you approach his room, you hear the sounds of heavy footsteps, the scrape of something hard against the floor, and… a quiet groan?

Curiosity and concern wash away your sleepiness as you raise your hand to knock on the door. You silently pray to yourself that you’re not about to interrupt your roommate during a…private moment, but being the slightly noisy and curious person that you are you decide to stay true to yourself and knock anyway.

Knocking on his door softly, you whisper, “Peter? Is everything alright?”

The shuffling abruptly stops, and for a few moments, the only thing you can hear is the sound of your breathing. 

Then Peter’s voice cut through the silence, high-pitched and filled with anxiety. “Y-Yeah! Yeah, I’m Fine. Totally Fine! No reason to not be! I uh… just dropped something! Sorry!” 

You furrow your eyebrows, hand hovering over the doorknob. “At three in the morning?”

Another pause fills the air, and then Peter responds, “You know me! Night Owl! Haha!”

On any other night, you would've just brushed off Peter’s weird behavior, but after five nights of waking up at 3 in the morning due to whatever the hell your roommate was up to that night, finally got to you. This time you were going to figure out what was going on, and seeing that you weren’t going to get a straight answer without asking him face-to-face, you crack the door open. With your mind racing with paranoid thoughts, that only you could come up with in the dead of night. Maybe Peter got drunk and wandered in clumsily or maybe your thoughts of him secretly being a drug dealer were true and he was getting high off his own suppl–

And then you saw him.

With the door now fully open, Peter was sitting in his desk chair, with only the dim light of his small desk lamp to illuminate his figure. His face was bruised and streaked with dirt and blood and his lip was swollen with a cut at the corner of his mouth. His appearance just screamed, “Hey I just got beaten up by an angry mob” and “I’m definitely not okay no matter what I say!” It was overall concerning.

But what was most concerning, was that even with the cuts and bruises, he was… kind of hot.

You blinked, trying to focus, but either you were losing your mind over the fact it was way past your bedtime or there was something truly captivating about the way his messy brown curls framed his face, or how cute he looked in his oversized longsleeved t-shirt decorated with the world’s most cringy science pun, which was so Peter. Along with some dark gray sweatpants that seemed to fit him just right. 

Peter shifted anxiously under your gaze, with his shirt shifting just enough for you to see the fabric underneath– a smooth, almost sleek blue and red material that didn’t look like it belonged with the rest of his outfit. 

“Uh… Peter? Are you okay?” Your voice came out a little too loud in comparison to the stillness of the night. Peter looks at you like a deer caught in headlights, scratching the back of his neck with one hand, and tugging his shirt down with the other. 

“Oh, hey I’m good. Sorry for waking you up Y/N. I didn’t mean to,” He said quickly, flashing a sheepish smile that was a little too strained to convince you that he was alright. 

You stepped further into the room, eyes still locked onto Peter’s disheveled appearance. Your brain, which was still waking up, was trying to process the scene around you. But you just couldn’t make sense of it. Why was Peter up this late? What was he wearing? You didn’t know. 

What you did know was that you were a little too aware of how good your roommate was looking at the moment. 

You mentally slapped yourself. Focus Y/N, focus. This was Peter! You're kind of awkward, socially inept, and constantly rambling on when he’s a nervous roommate! Not one of those guys from the soap operas you're always watching when you should be studying for your nursing exams.  

But as you stood there, trying to ignore how the dim light casted a soft glow over his bruised face, or how his jawline was looking especially sharp, you subconsciously closed the distance between the two of you, standing in front of him, slightly grazing your right hand against his face, barely touching his bruised skin. 

You can feel Peter staring at you in surprise, but that doesn’t stop you from analyzing his beaten-up features. “Peter,” your gaze shifts as you meet his eyes, “what happened to you?”

He winces slightly as you accidentally make too much contact with his bruised face, causing you to draw your hand quickly and whisper a small “Sorry.” 

Once again Peter attempts to put on a convincing smile. “It’s alright, a-and I’m fine really, just got a little banged up. It’s nothing, just might need a bandage or two,” e said as if those words could convince you he wasn’t in pain. 

You frown at him and quickly walk out leaving Peter in confusion, staring at where you once stood in his room. Only moments later you return with a first-aid kit and start tending to his wounds, his softy groans in pain as the ointment touches his cuts. “You don’t have to do this Y/N, I’ll be okay. You need to go back to sleep, I’ve already kept you up,” he tells you.

You ignore his wishes and continue patching him up as best as possible. “I just need a bandage or two my ass. You look like you got hit by a bus. There’s no way I’m going back to sleep now, not when I know you’re hurt.” Peter smiles at you and quietly thanks you as you continue your work, the time now being 4 in the morning. 

As you work, carefully wiping off dirt and applying antiseptic to his cuts, Peter winces with every touch, although he tries to hide behind it with small smiles and a bit of small talk. His eyes are glassy, not from the pain, but from something deeper–something that he’s not sharing with you. As you’re about to question him once again about the situation, you notice blood starting to leak and spread through his shirt and whatever weird compression shirt he’s wearing beneath it. “Woah, Peter. This is worse than I thought your chest is bleeding, I’m going to need you to lift your shirt so I can see what’s going on.” You say as your face reddens a bit at the thought of seeing your roommate of almost two years possibly shirtless. 

He hesitates for a moment, and you watch him, studying his movements. The way he shifts once again in his seat, avoiding your gaze. He lets out a frustrated sigh and looks back at you, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. 

“Okay,” he whispers nervously. “But… could you turn around for a sec, I’ll.. I’ll take off my shirt, but I- just please,” he says quickly.

You nod your head quickly, turning your back to him. Your heartbeat quickens for reasons you rather not explore, you know you shouldn’t lose focus again. You just need to help Peter. 

You hear the soft shuffle of fabric behind you, followed by the faint sound of something–maybe his shirt— being pulled off and falling to the ground. The air shifts as he moves, and you mentally slap yourself as you realize how awkward this situation must be for him. Your future career is going to be as a nurse, and yet you can’t help but feel a bit shy and nervous.

But you have no choice but to push your emotions away, you know you need to help out no matter how red your face seems to get. 

You hear him settle back into the chair, and you take that as your cue to turn around.

Once again you are in shock.

Peter is sitting there, upper body exposed, with his sweat pants loosely hanging off his hips, and his chest exposed with more cuts and bruises than you expected along with his–

Wait. Abs?

You blink, not quite believing your eyes. Since when did Peter Parker, the Star Wars nerd, and the “brain over brawn” type guy have abs like this? Tonight is just full of surprises.

The muscles adoring his torse are defined in a way that is, to be completely honest mouth-watering. You try to shake it off, but the sight is almost overwhelming. He’s got this toned, sculpted six-pack that you’re pretty sure wasn’t there the last time you saw him shirtless, which, granted, has been never. 

FOCUS! You mentally yell at yourself. Remember Peter is your roommate, your friend, the guy who rants to you for hours about what he does in his chem labs every Friday. He’s injured, and you’re here to patch him up–- not ogle at how good he looks. 

Trying to keep your composure, you start to grab items out of your first-aid kit and get back to work patching him up. Peter was clearly aware of your lingering gaze but chose not to say anything about it, instead choosing to fidget around in his chair.

As you finally wrap up, you give him one last look over, checking for anything else that needs attention. His eyes meet yours, for what feels like the millionth time this night, but for a moment, there’s an intensity lingering within the silence. You almost feel like you should try to say something again, but you choose not to, knowing that Peter will give you the run-around…again.

Peter swallows hard, breaking the tension. “Thanks for this Y/N. Seriously. I…I owe you one.”

You give him a soft smile in return, still trying to push down the bizarre mix of emotions roiling inside you. “Don’t mention it,” you tell him, as you quickly pack up your stuff. “You should be all good, just don’t do anything too intensive or straining, doctor’s orders” you lightheartedly joke as you get ready to leave his room. 

As you begin to walk toward the door, you hear Peter’s quiet, almost hesitant voice behind you.”

“Y/N..”

He slowly and carefully stands up from his chair, carefully to not ruin the work you did caring for his wounds, walking up to you. You turn to look at him, your hand on the doorknob.

“I…,” he continues, his voice shaky. “I don’t know how to thank you for this, for everything. I mean, I woke you up and you still helped me. You are a wonderful roommate and an even better friend, and I wish I could explain to you what’s going on–,” he pauses letting out a deep breath. 

You stand there, unsure how to handle the growing tension. But the raw sincerity in his words keeps you there, standing at the door. Peter’s eyes are wide with gratitude, his chest still bare, the remnants of your first aid work still visible along his skin. 

“I didn’t mean to drag you into all of this. It’s..It’s not what I wanted, and it's not what you signed up for as my roommate. I promise I’ll be more careful next time, that way you won’t have to fix me up again.” His gaze on you is intense, searching like there’s something else he wants to say. You know there's more weight to his words, he not just apologizing for interrupting your much-needed sleep with his late-night antics, he’s apologizing for not being the friend he knows he should be.

Something inside you shifts, as you let go of the doorknob and take a step closer to him. You’ve spent the last year and a half sharing this space, sharing your life with Peter, to late-night study sessions, countless Star Wars marathons, and game nights with MJ and Ned. You’ve known from the beginning that Peter kept a lot of aspects of his life to himself, telling you enough so you could get to know him but never enough to let you in. Through all of that, you’d never imagined this side of Peter. 

“Peter…I need you to be safe. I get that you don’t want to tell me where you go every night and I guess I can live with that but I need you to be safe,” you say as you fiddle with your hands. “I don’t want to see you get hurt again…I care about you too much.”

The room seems to get quiet, the weight of the moment hanging in the air. You can hear your heart beating in your ears, realizing what you just said and if you should have said it at all. 

Peter looks at you for a moment, his lips pressed into a thin line. Then almost as if the tension finally snapped, he reaches out for you. 

Without any time to react, Peter grabs your wrist, pulling you towards him. Before you can get any words out of your mouth, Peter captures your lips with his own. 

The kiss is soft, but needy at the same time as if Peter is trying to convey everything he was hesitant to say in your conversation. His hands move gently towards your waist, and you instinctively respond by wrapping your arms around his neck. 

It was a shock and unplanned, but at the same time, it felt right as if it was the most natural thing in the world. When you both finally pull away, breathless, you’re left staring at each other lost in a daze. 

Peter’s face flushed red, “I’m sorry, I just–I needed to show you how much I appreciate you and care about you. I understand that it was uncalled for and if I made you uncomfortabl–.” He rambles on but you quickly cut him off. 

“It's okay,” you whisper, feeling a warmth spread through you. 

You both stay there for a bit longer, enjoying the sweetness of the moment. There’s definitely no going back now. 

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( Authors Note: Yay!!! That's the end of the first part!! I hope y’all enjoy my first fic, it's my first time writing in five years, so please forgive me for my rusty skills, I’m still getting back into the groove of writing. I’m hoping to make this fic a series, where Peter, Ned, and MJ get to go to MIT and everyone is happy and alive. I just wanted to make something that isn’t too intense for my first fic back and a bit easier for me to maintain! Anyway hope you enjoyed!)

[rainb0ws-h4t]

Imagine

You are a popular freelancer who goes to the same school as Ruby and Aqua. You did all sorts of gigs; modelling, acting, and even concerts once in a while if you were invited. For some reason, you just couldn't settle to an agency, no matter how many offers you've been given. You much preferred having the freedom to choose your jobs. Plus, you were a recognizable face, so you were a popular choice whenever some business needed to promote a product, so you didn't have a problem when it came to looking for a job.

It wasn't until you became friends with Ruby and heard from him that Ichigo Agency was looking for more girls to be apart of a new upcoming girl group called: B-Komachi. You heard from her that it was only her and Kana Arima for now.

You didn't think much of the group she mentioned. Until she suddenly approached you after class and tried recruiting you into the group.

"I really think that you'd be a great addition to the group and.. I hope you can consider my offer!" She stammered, her eyes glowing with passion. The stars in her eyes made you think of the late idol from over a decade ago...

"...I'll consider it." You responded, and she skipped away happily.

You honestly thought you'd take over a month to decide, but it actually only took you a few days before you went up to Ruby and spoke, "I want to join B-Komachi."

Fast forward until Mem-cho finally joins the group and her secret has been revealed to everyone. All you guys have ever done was just practice the old songs from the original B-Komachi. It was really tiring... Especially with Ruby and Mem-cho's persistence to learn every single song.

That was the time that you made friends with Kana. You two shared small conversations on how the two girls in front of you were too upbeat and energetic for their own good.

You and Aqua never did get along all too well. Your relationship stayed acquaintances for a while until he offered to help tutor you on a subject you were struggling with. You guys weren't the closest but you two did exchange friendly gestures to each other and sometimes sat together during lunch.

[main plot]

It was the day of Japan's idol festival.

Everyone performed really well and it was now time to go home. As you arrived at the apartment of Ruby and Aqua, you and the others quickly fell asleep, exhausted from the days earlier activities.

Miyako was just about to do the same when she received a peculiar notification from her phone. At first, she didn't plan on opening it, figuring that she could just open it tomorrow when she's fully rested.

Night Raven College

Those three words perked her interest almost immediately.

Hesitantly, she grabbed her phone from her end table and clicked on the notification.

From: DIRE CROWLEY, HEADMAGE OF NIGHT RAVEN COLLEGE To: ICHIGO PRODUCTION

Good evening, Ichigo Production!

Apologies for the late email! We hope we are not disturbing you!

Earlier this evening, I, the headmage of Night Raven College, had witnessed the performance of your girl group B-Komachi! I was simply amazed at the spectacular and heartfelt show that they had put on. Out of all the girl groups I have watched from this day, B-Komachi is the only one that has caught my eye!

I am personally extending an invite for B-Komachi to perform at Night Raven College for the Song Dance Competition as a special guest! How truly generous I am! I will be giving your girls a chance to grow in popularity and confidence, especially since the Song and Dance Competition has students from both Night Raven College and Royal Sword Academy!

Please respond at your latest, the Song and Dance Competition is only 2 weeks away! For more details, please inquire!

Miyako processed the information on the screen, "Why is a headmage at an Idol Festival anyway..?" Miyako muttered to herself before shutting her device off. She places her phone back on the solid surface before laying comfortably on her bed. "Night Raven College?.. I never heard of it." She whispers before falling into a deep slumber.

_______

"WHAT?! WE'RE PERFORMING AT A COLLEGE?!"

Miyako's peaceful slumber was then disturbed by shouts from the living room. She sat up and rubbed her eyes and stole a glance at the clock on her table.

"Ah.. I overslept." She stood up from her bed and fixed herself a little bit before heading downstairs.

"What's with the fuss so early in the morning?" Miyako yawned as she entered the living room to see a few shocked and surprised faces, even Aqua showed a visible reaction.

"You never told us we were going to perform at a college!" Ruby pointed a accusatory finger at Miyako.

"Im still exhausted from last night..." Mem-cho sighed, sinking into the couch.

"What are- Oh." Miyako's memories of last night came back in a flash. 'Oh, right. That email..'

"How did you guys find out..?" She asked.

"I'm logged into Ichigo Production's work email." Aqua stated.

"It's two weeks away?" You stared at the laptop's screen intently. "I still have an offer from the Tokyo blade too..."

"Me too!" Kana adds.

"I haven't responded yet, but if you don't want to perform then I can simply decline." She says softly.

"Wait! We didn't say we would decline!" Ruby interrupts.

"You're seriously considering it?" Aqua turns his head to look at his sister.

"Well, think about it! There's gonna be a lot of people, and you guys will be busy with Tokyo Blade! We can have one last performance before you are all busy." She explains.

"I guess..." Kana looks off to the side.

"I'm not against it or anything, but..." You trail off, "Do we even know a Night Raven College around here?"

Everyone's response was silence as no one had a definite answer.

"Err... I'll try emailing them for more details. Just give me an answer when you are all ready." They all nodded.

"I can send an email right now." Aqua offers.

"Sure."

Aqua typed away on the laptop as everyone else dispersed. An hour later, Aqua notified everyone that he received a response.

"The location is a 2 hour drive away and they're willing to provide a place to practice. They also mentioned something about wearing a cloak when you enter the campus as to not alarm anyone about our presence." Aqua shows the response email to the rest of us.

"I searched up Night Raven College on my phone and not much information popped up, but it is a college though." Mem-cho says.

"Let's do it guys!" Ruby bounced into the room excitedly.

"Where does she get the energy?" You sighed. "But I guess one more show can't hurt."

"They have a festival too that lasts for a few days. Only thing is that our presence in required in the first two days, it's our choice if we want to stay on the last days of the festival."

"Well, are you all up for it?" Miyako turns to us.

"Just make sure this is the last show for this month." Kana says, earning a nod from Miyako.

"My stream schedules are inconsistent anyway.. plus, I'd love to gain more fans!" Mem-cho giggled.

"Tell me there's a comfortable place to rest though.." you added.

"I'll check out the hotels around the area for that." Miyako pulls out her phone from her pocket.

"We're doing it!" Ruby pumps a fist excitedly.

"It's still two weeks away, no need to be so excited." You ruffle her hair.

"We also just finished a show yesterday too, y'know?" Mem-cho plops on to the couch beside Aqua.

"Aqua, can you write another email back to them?" Miyako asks as Aqua complys with her request.

In less than 30 minutes, Aqua receives a response email from the headmage once again.

"Wow, the headmage must really want us to perform if he responds that quickly." Kana crosses her arms.

"I guess that means more practice for us, huh?" You say to no one in particular.

"Can you guys show a little bit of enthusiasm?" Ruby turns to you and Kana.

Aqua explains the rest of the details before everyone agrees on practicing tomorrow. The following days are a blur. Just kept practicing the songs over and over again before finally perfecting it. It was already great before, but you guys made a few changes to the choreography.

Finally, the day has come where you all have to go to the location.

Needless to say, you just slept through the entire ride while the others did their own thing. Aqua came along as well, after hearing that this was an all boys academy. He claimed it was because he didn't want his sister to go there alone.

There were only 2 days left before the festival. You guys went early because the emails said so. It was probably because they could let us practice on the big stage first.

After you all unpacked in the hotel, you all made your way to the school gates with a black cloak covering you all.

"Is this seriously needed? What if someone mistakes us for kidnappers?" Kana complains.

"It's to hide our identity. It would ruin the surprise after all!" Mem-cho didn't seemed phased with our identities being concealed.

"I have to meet with the headmage. You guys go to the agreed location." Miyako walked through the main path of the school, which had big statues on the side. Creepy...

After walking for a few more minutes, you guys spot a run down building in the distance."Is that... Is that where we need to go?" You pointed.

"Probably." Kana says, walking close behind you.

Ruby runs Infront of all of you, "Then let's not waste any time then!" She skips towards the suspicious building. "Excuse me!" She knocks on the door eagerly.

"Ruby! You can't just be so disruptive! You gotta do it like this." Mem-cho goes Infront of her and before her index finger could reach the door, the door already opened revealing a white haired boy. "Uh, nevermind.." She scratched her head awkwardly before Ruby went Infront of her.

"Hello! We're-"

"B-Komachi, right?" The boy who answered the door interrupts. "Ah, sorry.. I heard a lot about you guys, and I was really excited to meet you all. " He smiled sheepishly before letting us in.

"We're excited to perform here too!" Ruby returned his smile with a much brighter one.

"Hey, everyone! They've arrived!" He yelled, his voice echoing through the wooden house. Two males were already present in the living room, they turned their heads to look at your guy's direction. "I'm Kalim Al-asim by the way." He extended a hand towards us all as everyone took turns shaking his hand.

"Really? Wait! My hair still looks like a mess!" A figure of a girl ran upstairs, followed by a tall blonde male.

"I must look my best whenever I'm met with guests."

"Oh! Please make yourself comfortable in the lounge!" He guided us towards the area of the lounge.

"Glad we're not staying for the time being.." Kana whispers.

"Hey, be nice." You elbowed her gently.

"I'm just saying, I'm not insulting it."

"Well, it's best we get used to it. It's only for a short period of time." Aqua blankly adds.

The two males moved closer to each other to make space for all five of us. Kalim sat down beside you, making eye contact with you while sending you a sincere grin.

"You're B-Komachi, right?" The ginger male, who was sitting in he lounge before you guys did, asked.

"Yep! That's us!" Mem-cho proudly announced.

"We hope you have a good time here." The dark blue haired male beside him said.

"I'm Deuce Spade."

"I'm Ace Trappola! I hope that now that you guys are here Vil can finally calm down a little." He grinned which earned a smack from Deuce.

"He might hear you, moron."

"We're glad to be here too." You said, trying to be active in the conversation.

"By the way, what's with the cloaks..?" Kalim asked, fiddling with the hood of your cloak

"The headmage specifically requested that we wear cloaks upon entering the school to avoid anyone seeing us." Aqua explained.

"Ah! Can't ruin the surprise, am I right?" The boy beside chuckled, he seemed to be quite the sunshine.

"Uh.. Where are the others if you don't mind me asking?" You asked.

"They should be down right about now. I'll go check on them." Ace stood up, with Deuce following suite.

"Guess that leaves just me here." Kalim said as he glanced at your direction again.

You observed the others and noticed Mem-cho typing away in her phone at rapid speed.

"Kalim.. al.. Asim..." She mumbled. Kalim stared at her curiously. "ASIM?!" She suddenly shouts.

"Keep your voice down! This isn't our house!" Kana scolds as she peeks at Mem-cho's phone. "You're googling him while you're right in front of him? That's seriously dystopian." She looks at her unamused.

"Y-youre like really rich!" She says, looking at Kalim.

"That's not how you talk to someone you just met." You crossed your arms as you glared at Mem-cho.

"Sorry! I just freaked out that's all!""Am I really that rich?" He mutters innocently to himself.

Sounds of multiple footsteps could be heard approaching the lounge. A few bits of chatter was in earshot as well.

"That must be them!"

Many faces came into view, one seemed more interesting than the other as they all came into view. They all took a seat as the tall blonde man took the lead with the conversation.

"Good morning. You must be B-Komachi, correct?"

You all nodded in response.

"Well, I am Vil Schoenheit. It is truly a pleasure to be working with you all." He smiles. This man was honestly so gorgeous. He had silky blonde hair that faded into a purple and amethyst-like eyes.

"It's a pleasure to be working with you too!" Ruby grins in return. "I'm Hoshino Ruby. Nice to meet you all." She glances at everyone in the room, except for the people she already knew. She then nudged her brother, who didn't really seem to care about the conversation, but gave a polite facade anyway.

"Good morning, I'm Hoshino Aquamarine, but I prefer being called Aqua."

"That's one hell of a name..." Ace mumbles as he earns a smack from Deuce again.

"Uh.. are you apart of the group.?" Deuce asks, wondering why a man was with us of we were a girls group.

"No. I simply supervise them." He responds professionally.

"Okay, so I'm Mem-cho! I'm excited to start working with you all, even if it is for a few days only..."

"My name is Arima Kana. I hope we can all get along."

"Oh, I'm _____ _____. I'm thrilled to be working with everyone. The headmage mentioned you guys through his emails."

"Well, we are the ones who will be competing against RSA for the SDC." A dark brown haired man says.

"Spudling one. Hurry up and introduce yourself." Vil commanded.

"Again? I'm Ace Trappola." He sighed, he seemed to not gt along with Vil.

"W-well, uh, I'm Deuce Spade. It's nice meeting you... Again."

"I'm Kalim Al-asim! Though you already know that." He grinned cheekily.

"My name is Jamil Viper."

"Good morning... I-Im Epel Felmier. I hope we can all get along and work together in harmony.." You noticed something odd about him. As if he was practically forced into saying that.

"Why it is a pleasure to finally meet you all in person after the headmage spoke so fondly over your performance! I am Rook Hunt."

The person from before looked around before realizing, "Oh right, I'm next! I'm Yuu! It's great to see you guys!"

You didn't really pay attention to anything after that. You honestly felt uncomfortable with how you felt like you were being watched, but whenever you looked around, no one seemed to be doing anything suspicious. Until a few minutes later, Vil announced that we would start rehearsing now.

We were handed a schedule and since we were a special guest, we were performing after all teams were finished with their own shows.

"Do you... Do you guys feel like you're being stared at?" You asked, hesitantly.

"No? Do you feel uncomfortable?" Ruby asks worriedly.

"It's probably just the nerves. Maybe after practice, it'll go away?" Mem-cho suggested.You only nodded, not wanting to dwell on that feeling any longer. The four of you all practiced the songs from before. It was honestly easy, but Vil made some tweaks that he thought would be better. Aqua just watched from the corner, a book in hand.

Hours passed and you were all exhausted. You flopped on the ground and noticed a water bottle that you swore wasn't there before, but whatever. You're thirsty as hell anyway.

The next day, you were all scheduled to practice at the stage, which was located in a like coliseum. The stage itself was big and you were intimidated with how many seats there were.

Rehearsals went smoothly, but you were more intimidated for what was to come on the actual festival. You were used to crowds, but you never performed on a stage with a large, large, large crowd before.. Geez, you were popular but not THAT popular...You all practiced until your bones gave out. Now, standing before you is the stage that you were all gonna be on in a few more minutes. Vil and the others, along with that Neige person had finished performing and now the announcements for the special guests were now happening.

"Ugh, I know I said I was ready to face the crowd, but now seeing all the seats that are filled just makes me..." Ruby says, sweating.

"Stop sweating. You'll ruin your makeup." Kana says, dabbing a handkerchief carefully on her forehead.

"I think I forgot my lines..." Mem-cho stared at the crowd behind the curtains blankly.

"Don't be so dramatic guys! Just dance like how we did back in the Idol Festival!" You tried lightening the mood.

"I guess... But there's just so many people." Ruby complain"

"You were practically made for the stage, Ruby. You got this." You cheered.

Kana sighs, "just don't let any eyes get the better of you. You all will do good.."

"Awh, Kana's growing a soft spot!" Mem-cho teased.

"Don't make me take that back."

"B-Komachi, you're on in 5." One of the staff said.

You all nodded as you got into position.

Remember, smile brightly for everyone to see...

"For our special guests that we know you've all been waiting for! Give it up for the girl group, B-KOMACHI!"

An applause rang out through out the coliseum as the music started. You all danced your heat out, trying to give the best performance you can for everyone.

Until that feeling again...This isn't like being admired or just someone staring, it really feels like someone is boring into your being. As if they're trying to consumer you with their gaze alone. You pushed that thought away though, trying to focus on the performance. After all, if you danced emotionless, no one would be looking at you.

Even after your performance ended, that feeling still didn't go away. Just what is causing this feeling?!

You sighed, walking into the dressing room with a water bottle, not noticing the pair of eyes that solely focused on your figure.

___

Ps: this is rushed and irs a rough idea

[scarletfasinera]

My account is verified by @nabulsi ,el shab hussien , and it’s listed as No. 99

Hello, I'd like you to publish my story. I'm from Gaza, Palestine, I live with my parent's , wife & three brothers.

Suffering from the scourge of war in GAZA 10/2023 to Now that's 304 Days.

Therefore, Please help us by sharing or donating to travel from Gaza & build a new life.

Your presence by our side makes our life better.

Thank you.

https://gofund.me/cb8c05a3

Of course, I hope that you and your family are able to find peace and safety. I am thinking about you.

Here is the link to the campaign:

Please donate if you are able to do so. Even a small amount can build up and make a good impact, so do not worry about if you can only donate "a little bit." And please reblog this post or the original posts on Alaakh2025's blog so that the campaign can be seen & potentially receive donations from more people.

At the time that I'm posting this response on August 10th 2024, this campaign has only received £25,961 out of it's goal of £56,000.

Proof of verification: fundraiser #99 on the vetted Gaza fundraiser spreadsheet.

[booplesnotts-art]

I originally noticed you because of your Michael art. Because I am obsessed with Michael and omg so gorgeous.

And I also love your art of your OCs and other characters because woman and your art is amazing! 😍

But I just noticed that I actually know HB..I just noticed the tags worst witch and was like wait a minute. I WATCHED THAT SHOW AS A KID!!

And now I just went down memory lane and saw there are 3 seasons of ww98 on YouTube. So I skipped through the first episode and aaaaah.

They really just introduced the short haired teacher doing curls ?? Like guuurl wtf, I love it. And I totally get how you are obsessed with hardbroom because omg hello. Now I am thinking about rewatching it or at least some episodes.

And apparently there is a remake. And aaaaaaah. Do I watch the show or just watch thirsty edits of HB. Because damn 👀

i might not watch the show(s) but HB is on my radar now :D

Sorry for the rambling but I think you kinda converted me 🙏

Omg this actually almost made me cry from how sweet this is 😭😭

First, thank you so much!! I’m glad you enjoy my art that means a lot🖤 I might post some more of my own character art here at some point soon so I’m glad some people like them haha and yes !! Women !!!

I have never managed to covert someone into one of my favourite silly things so I’m just super flattered by that😭😭

There is a remake!! I highly recommend watching it too! It was actually the show that got ME into the worst witch as a whole (I was on Netflix one day and saw hb and thought she was hot so I decided to watch it, real story) which then lead me later on down this little rabbit hole and I learned about the 1998 one which I absolutely adore and am still obsessed with lol. The remake on Netflix though is great and I def recommend it if you like the original, it’s got some differences but I enjoyed it🖤 I love all versions and have for some good years now- I’m happy to be able to share that love with people through some of my silly drawings haha

Thank you so much for your words, they’re so sweet and I really appreciate that🖤🖤 Don’t apologize for rambling either!! I love to read what people have to say in my inbox and chatting🖤

Also I’m thrilled hb is on your radar cause like look that woman she’s so- AHHHH I love her

[dragonji]

its time for yet another brain game of am i like fully neurotic or was this genuinely not a cool situation . prize is jack shite and yet im playing anyways👍

[nebulainatree]

Girl who has severe social anxiety when it comes to talking to people online and has to close her eyes to press the send button whenever she writes a message to anyone 😔

[chuluoyi]

𝐃𝐀𝐖𝐍'𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

- zayne x reader

as dawn breaks, a new chapter begins. now husband and wife in the truest sense, both of you embark on the path of happiness together. yet, bittersweet loose ends remain still. will they eventually stay in the past for good, or cast a permanent shadow over your lives?

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, pregnancy & sex, mentions of complications related to pregnancy, brief description of childbirth (c-section), hunter!reader (not l&ds mc -> l&ds mc is zayne's late ex-girlfriend here)

note: part 2 to nocturne of twilight. my god, i honestly didn't expect it'd turn out into another 8k fic but here we go :')

Lately, Zayne has come to realize just how much joy you bring to home when you’re happy.

Your smile and giggles simply light up the place.

And moreover, you get happy at the simplest of things—head pats, his snowmen... Even when he responds with jabs just to get a rise out of you, there's always a part of his heart that softens.

Today began just like one of those joyful days. He dropped you off at the Hunter Association base before heading to the hospital, and later, he planned to pick you up and perhaps stop for macarons on the way home—

Or so he thought, until...

"Hello, Dr. Zayne! Sorry for startling you. Can you come to my office? Your wife just collapsed and she is brought here."

. . .

Zayne raced to Dr. Munson's office on the third floor, panic gradually overtook his every step. His mind whirled with all the possible reasons you might end up at—

Ob-gyn office. Wait, what?

The realization struck him just as he flung open the door to his colleague’s office.

"Ah, the man of the hour has arrived!" Dr. Munson greeted him with an ear-to-ear grin.

Zayne gave a quick nod but bypassed him to head straight to the bed where you were.

You looked pale and sluggish, your eyes squeezed shut. He immediately took your hand in his, interlacing your fingers, and you opened your eyes in surprise to see him there.

"Zayne..." you murmured, giving his hand a gentle squeeze and offering a faint smile.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice filled with concern as he gently touched your cool cheek.

"A bit dizzy..."

Seeing you so meek made something inside him lurch. Just this morning, you had been full of life, pouting and playfully teasing him, and now you looked so exhausted.

"Well, maybe you already know this, Dr. Zayne, but still, congratulations!" Dr. Munson clapped his hands merrily. "Your wife is pregnant!"

Pregnant. Zayne stood frozen for a moment. In truth, while the very thought flitted in his mind from the moment he walked in, it didn't make it less surprising all the same. "I see..."

Then he turned to look at you, and to his surprise, you looked away, a shy smile played at your lips, as if you were trying to make yourself as small as possible.

A child. You were with child. His child.

"How far along?"

"Almost ten weeks, give or take. Well, aren't you the one who knows the most?"

"Is she alright? Anything I need to watch out for?"

"Ooh! How sweet!" Dr. Munson laughed crisply. "The cool-headed Dr. Zayne is worrying about his wife! The nurses are going to have a field day when they know this~"

Zayne shot him a look, but didn’t miss a beat as he retorted, "Of course I am."

You looked up at him silently, your heart fluttering at his earnest response. Zayne had always been resilient, but now he seemed more dashing than usual as he fired questions after questions at Dr. Munson about you and the baby.

Baby... both of you were going to become parents. It still felt surreal, but with Zayne’s warm grip on your hand, it began to feel real. You were almost giddy.

But then, it struck you— the baby was around ten weeks.

Then it meant the day of the conception was that night.

. . .

“Here, hold onto me.”

Zayne opened the door to his car and supported you as you carefully stepped out. You were still unsteady on your feet, so he returned you back home to rest rather than heading back to the Hunter Association’s base.

“Have you been feeling unwell these past few days?” he wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you made your way inside. “Usually, the symptoms have been noticeable for a while.”

“Hmmm,” you pursed your lips, feigning coyness. “I... don’t think so?”

Zayne quirked an eyebrow, sending you a withering stare as he realized your ruse. “So you have.”

“Hehe...” you flashed him a sheepish grin, causing him to shake his head in exasperation and pinch your cheek. “Ow!” you squeaked, quickly bringing your hand to your face.

Zayne stifled a smile, then gently guided you to the sofa. He crouched down in front of you, meeting your gaze as he took both of your hands in his.

"You need to tell me these things from now on, alright?" he said, and his steadfast gaze made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

"We..." you started, steeling yourself, "are going to have a baby," you gulped, feeling heat spreading to your cheeks.

He was unfazed. "Mm, we are."

You shifted uneasily, avoiding his gaze. "Are you... happy?"

Your voice wavered at the end, and your hand felt clammy. Suddenly, your stomach too twisted with nausea. Who would've thought that you would conceive a baby from a night that he called a mistake?

However, Zayne tilted his head, seemingly taken aback. "I am."

"Huh?"

"I am happy," he repeated, blinking back at you. "Are you?"

You gaped, caught off guard by his candid response—but then again, when had your husband ever been anything but straightforward?

"But you don’t seem happy!" you accused, pursing your lips. "You’ve been frowning the whole way home."

He shot you a flat look, his expression unchanged. "This is just my face."

You continued to pout, and Zayne sighed. His frown softened as he gently cupped your face, making you look up at him.

"You silly girl, what husband won't be thrilled when they hear that his wife is expecting?" he caressed your face, before poking it. "I'm just worried about you, you still look pale."

"You..." your eyes found his uneasily, at a loss of words. "But this baby is…" Your gaze dropped, anxiety swelling. "From… the night of—"

Your response stunned him, and you didn't dare to look him in the eye. It was still something that gnawed at you inside, because what if—

What if he thought this baby is a mistake?

In that moment, understanding dawned on him. His ashen eyes widened in surprise. You braced yourself for his reaction, but then—

His hand rested on your head, patting you gently. "You carrying our baby..." he faltered, gazed fixed on your averted eyes and then lips. His voice came almost in a whisper:

"This... is the best thing that has happened to me."

Thump! Your heart soared, warmth flooding through you in that very instant as you met his gaze. On the contrary, Zayne felt a crushing weight seeing the tears shining in your eyes. How deeply had he hurt you before that you’d doubt his feelings?

"I promised you that I’ll treasure you better," he said, pulling strands of your hair behind your ears. "This time, let me prove it to you."

Somehow you felt like crying at the sheer sincerity in his words. "You... like the baby?"

A gentle smile touched his lips as he took your hand and pressed a kiss to it. "I do. Truly."

"I... am so happy too," you finally choked up, the first tear slipping down your cheek. You quickly brushed it away, feeling a bit silly for tearing up. "I... have always wanted us to be a family..."

Zayne pulled you into his arms, letting out an exasperated but fond sigh. "A certain someone really does like to cry... And now with a baby on the way, am I going to lose my mind worrying about both of you?"

"Hmph," you wrinkled your nose. "A certain dad-to-be better work on his skills to express himself better, then."

"I'm going to focus my energy on more important things, such as thinking of all ways I should do to keep you from getting into trouble."

"...? I don't get into trouble!"

"You stumble even on empty air, I've seen it myself."

Two years ago, you had envisioned your happily ever after with him, and then you weren't sure if you would get it at all. And now, as you walked towards a new beginning together, you were wholly certain.

At least, that was what you thought.

The days following the reveal of your pregnancy were filled with bliss.

Only that, sometimes... you ask for tall order—

"Zayne... I want that plushie..."

"We have tried it three times already. That machine is rigged."

"B-but! Look, that couple won some!"

Some weeks later, the two of you were at an arcade, and your eyes were literally shining as soon as you saw the Happy Snowman plushie in the claw machine.

And ever since, you had been tugging at his sleeve and dragging him to catch it for you... only to no avail so far.

Zayne pinched the bridge of his nose. "With the way you’re acting, no one would believe you’re about to become a mom."

"Isn't that the whole point?" you fired back, puckering your lips, before mustering your best puppy eyes and bringing your hands together. "Please? Baby wants it so much."

He knew you were using the baby card just to get your way, but you looked so adorable doing it that it often worked—evident from how he lined up once more for the long queue at the claw machine.

"This is the last time," he decided, giving you a flat stare when you two reached your turn. "If we lose, we're buying the one in the souvenir shop."

"Teehee~" you giggled in delight. You'd get your plushie either way. Zayne was always listening to you even with his grumbles, and it made you inwardly kick your feet in joy.

Despite being cross, Zayne was better at this than you. He almost snagged some plushies several times, and this time, he skillfully maneuvered the claw, pressing the button with precision—

“Oh!” Your eyes sparkled as the claw secured your prized Happy Snowman. “Zayne! Just a little more!”

"Yeah, yeah..."

Just like that, the claw released the snowman into the hole. As soon Zayne handed it to you, you practically squealed. "Ahh! Finally I got you!"

You were so full of childlike excitement, even though you were just months away from bringing a child into the world yourself. Zayne watched you silently, and despite himself, a soft smile tugged at his lips.

"Do you want more?" he asked. "We still have three chances left."

"Yes!" You beamed at him. "I want the penguin and crow!"

Apparently, he was weak to your wishes. He then took the machine again, and maybe luck blessed him this time because soon enough, he got you two of them right after the chances ran out.

“Hehe! We’re bringing them home!” You patted each plushie with delight, your giggles drawing the attention of nearby kids.

"Mom, look! That uncle gets many plushies!"

Zayne felt his eyes twitch. Uncle...?

You tried and utterly failed to hold back your laugh.

And you heard another couple bickering nearby as they threw glances at you and your husband—

"I want that crow plushie..." the woman lamented, despondently eyeing the claw machine and the three plushies Zayne had managed to win for you.

Her boyfriend, a scary-looking tall man with red eyes and rider garbs, turned to her with a snort. "Why would you even need that ugly crow for? We have crow at home."

"...Mephisto doesn't count! You're just saying that because your luck and skill are trash!"

"Tch. I can open a whole arcade just so you can tear those plushies into shreds, sweetie... just so you know, there’s a price when dealing with a devil, hmm?"

Opening an arcade only to satisfy his girlfriend's wants? You thought in a passing. Crazy.

. . .

And then your emotions are practically a whirlwind of roller coaster...

“You’re mean!” you sniffled, pointing a righteous finger at your husband and the kitty cards on the table. “You always reduce my kitties whenever you get the chance!”

Zayne exhaled, trying to explain himself. “I just make do with the cards I’m dealt with.”

“But you’re trying to take out my cats all the time!”

“That’s the gameplay. If I let you win, you’d say I’m underestimating you.”

“So, are you saying I’m bad at this?” You looked at the cards with heartbreak etched on your face, your lips quivering. “Am I?”

Uh-oh, he knew what it was. You were a stone throw away from bursting into tears and one wrong word could set you off altogether.

“No, you’re not bad...” he began, carefully choosing his words. “The kitties... they’re just not cooperating with you, that’s all.”

“So, they’re cooperating with you,” you pouted, cross. “Is that what you’re trying to say?!”

Sigh... this is going to take a while...

But ultimately... you’re also incredibly precious.

“I’m going to make an amigurumi for our baby,” you announced, smiling brightly as you settled between his legs with a crochet kit and a snowman pattern in hand. “I just know they’ll like it.”

“You know how to crochet?” Zayne asked, resting his chin on your shoulder and slipping an arm around your waist, gently touching your growing bump.

“Hmph!” You tilted your chin up with a smirk, turning to face him. “Of course, I can!”

“Oh…?”

“It’s a little side hobby,” you explained with a giggle. “I can’t resist having and making cute things~”

Zayne thought he’d laugh, but instead, it was a wave of bittersweetness that washed over him. Because apparently, even after being married to you for two years, there were some things about you he didn’t know.

He was fond of you. He knew you liked a fair amount of sweets, what your favorite food and color were, and that you couldn't sleep without turning off the lights. But then he realized...

"Does it have to be a snowman?" he asked, his eyes fixed on how skillfully you handled the hooks.

"Mm-hmm! It does."

"Why do you like it so much anyway?"

"Ah..." Your movements paused slightly, and you suddenly looked down, a hint of sheepishness in your expression. "Well..."

This way, you looked adorable somehow. Zayne squeezed you gently. "Hmm?"

"You might not remember it... but the first time we met..." you felt heat creeping up to your face but pressed on nonetheless. "I asked you to demonstrate your Evol and you showed me by creating a snowman out of thin air."

Right at that moment, Zayne could've sworn that his heart skipped a beat. That meeting... how many years ago was it? Five? Six?

He could barely remember it until you mentioned it, and yet you held that memory dear.

"Maybe it sounds stupid to you," you puffed out your cheeks. "But I think you’re similar to a snowman. You look cold on the outside, but you bring happiness to so many people. You save lives…"

The way you described him so highly made him flutter inside. Suddenly he felt soft. Soft for you. You were utterly precious, genuine and all this time, he hadn't even truly realized it.

"And to me, you..." you gulped, suddenly self-conscious. "You are... warm, just like the sun..."

The sincerity in your words touched him so deeply that it left him speechless. You had loved him and it was evident in all your actions.

Now the question is, has he done the same for you?

You brightened his life just by being yourself. Most of the time cheery, sometimes snarky, and often times decidedly spoiled... all those sides of you—

He adores them all. And he knows he'll treasure you until the end of time. And now, he's going to show you that.

Before he realized it, he had planted a kiss on the nape of your neck, and you sucked in a breath as you dropped the crochet hooks. "Zayne...?"

And then his lips pressed harder, trailing kisses along your neck, while his hands slipped inside your pajama top, caressing your skin ever so gently. The unexpected touch made you unwittingly moan.

"Can you... finish crocheting another day?" he breathed in your ear, cupping your breasts tenderly, and you almost jolted. "I'll be gentle, I promise."

It felt as if your face had caught fire, your whole body flushing with sudden excitement. Your heart raced wildly at his husky voice, and the very thought that your husband desired you was deeply thrilling.

"But you..." your voice hitched, trying not focus on his fingers. "...are never gentle."

Zayne blinked at you in surprise. "Am... I? That's not true."

"Should I jog your memory?" You pursed your lips. "One time, you threw me on the bed—"

"Well—"

"And that time you had me on all fours—"

"That's—"

"And the night we conceived this baby too—"

"Right. Alright." Zayne’s cheeks flushed with warmth as he released his grip on your mounds. "You might have a point, but this time, I assure you…"

He turned you to face him, and before you could even react, he leaned in close, his breath tickling your collarbone as he whispered:

"I will take good care of you tonight."

He made good on his promise.

This time, his hands moved with a gentleness that took your breath away. Zayne started with peppering your skin in soft, lingering kisses—starting at your jaw, then trailing down your neck, collarbone, and chest.

And when his lips finally reached the slightly visible but firm swell of your belly, he paused, pressing a kiss there that seemed to hold all the love he had for your baby.

The sight pulled at your heartstrings. The very fact that Zayne cherished this little life growing inside you filled you with a happiness so profound, it nearly overwhelmed you.

And soon...

"Ahh... aah!" you writhed, arching your back, your lower body laid bare as his tongue lapped eagerly at your folds. It was, by far, the most erotic thing your husband had done to you— he usually didn’t spend this much time for your pleasure.

But as always, he was not much of a talker during sex. Only dangerous gleam in his eyes as he glanced up from between your trembling thighs that let you know he had no plans of stopping anytime soon.

"Ngh!" You gasped when the tight ball of nerves inside you finally burst, mewling helplessly as you yanked on his hair, and he ate you out even more greedily in response. You had always known it, but moments like this made it undeniable—

Zayne turns completely into a different man while bedding you. Who would have guessed that the stoic, straight-laced head of cardiac surgery could be reduced to a man consumed by lust at the sight of his wife's body?

. . .

He had always liked having you on top. This time, Zayne made sure to prepare you exceptionally well before easing himself inside you, yet, just like every other time, you still felt impossibly tight around him.

“Ah, ah... I-I’m—!” you whimpered tearfully, your walls clenching around his girth, face overtaken by sheer pleasure. “’s full...”

It didn't take him long to bust, really. With a beautiful wife sitting on top of him, eliciting sounds like that... how could he resist?

But maybe he pushed you too hard. Lust won against all his senses as he relentlessly slammed his hips against yours, and he distinctly felt the moment you stifled a scream and came hard around him.

"Are you... alright?" Zayne asked in a groan as he reached his orgasm, his release flooding inside your womb in a rush as you clung into him tightly, shuddering and spasming.

You nodded and collapsed against him, savoring the feeling of how filled up you were. In return, he cradled you close as he slowly pulled out of you. "I-I... am..."

You curled into him, and he pressed a tender kiss on your head. In that moment, you truly felt that there were only two of you in this vast world.

Gently, he lifted you—one arm supporting your legs, the other around your back—and carried you to the bathroom to clean you up.

. . .

“Drink.” Zayne held the cool glass of water to your lips, and you obediently took a sip, your gaze lingering on the gap in his bathrobe where his chest peeked out.

He was so, so considerate. He carefully handled you as he washed your body and wrapped you in the bathrobe earlier, soothing you each time you let out a whine.

It was the most comforting aftercare you had experienced. After making sure you weren’t parched, he tucked you under the comforters, joining you soon after and pulling you close.

“Are you comfortable now?” he asked quietly, straightening your hair.

“Mm-hmm.” You snuggled closer with a smile, tracing a finger along his chest.

Somehow the way he cared for you now made you remember how your relationship was back then. He didn’t dote on you this much, he was good to you but you knew deep in your hearts that he wasn’t really there. But now…

He is yours. In every sense.

“You’re tickling me,” Zayne tutted gruffly, catching your hand and pressing it to his chest.

“So? What will you do?” you teased with a playful grin. “Will you eat me up again?”

“…” His narrowed eyes made you giggle, and you pressed yourself even closer, relishing the afterglow.

You had promised yourself not to bring it up again, but feeling vulnerable in this moment, you couldn’t help but whisper:

“You… have changed,” you muttered under your breath. “Thank you… for thinking of me.”

You couldn’t see his expression, but his arms tightened around you suddenly. Warmth spread through you, feeling as though he were shielding you from the world itself.

Weeks passed by, and soon enough, you reached the middle of your second trimester.

“We’re going to find out the gender today!” you excitedly noted in the passenger’s seat. Zayne glanced at you with a smile, silently looking forward to it too.

He was relieved that your first trimester had passed smoothly, with only a few bouts of sickness. Now, before he knew it, you were already halfway through the journey.

“If it’s a girl, I hope she won’t be a troublemaker like her mom,” he slyly retorted.

You shot him a glare. “And if it’s a boy, I’ll make sure he doesn’t spend all his time studying and turn into a robot like you.”

The journey to fatherhood still didn’t feel entirely real to him with your chirpy self, but as your belly swelled and rounded with each passing week, he began to realize that the day was quickly approaching.

It made him feel warm, and he wished he could show it to you better just how much happiness you brought to him now.

You rummaged through your bag and exclaimed, "Oh, I forgot the appointment card!"

Zayne sighed, turning the steering wheel with a small shake of his head. "See? The little mom can be so scatterbrained at times."

You slouched in your seat, crestfallen. "Sorry..."

"It’s alright," he gave your hand a gentle squeeze as he noticed your expression drop. "I’ll get it. Where did you leave it?"

"In the first drawer of my vanity desk, I think…"

After arriving back at home, Zayne headed straight to your shared bedroom and searched through your drawers. The first drawer only had your perfumes, so he moved on to the second drawer, which apparently only had more makeup supplies.

And so, he pulled the third drawer, and there were a stack of envelopes there. Curious, he pulled one out, thinking it was the card he was looking for—

—but then, suddenly, he was in a state of shock. Never would have he expected to find what he had on his hand then.

For a moment, everything around him seemed to blur, his entire world reduced to those three stark words on the page. His mind struggled to process what he was seeing, a heavy weight settling in his stomach as the realization hit him.

Petition of Divorce — and your signature... was there.

Something seemed a bit off about Zayne, you noticed later that day.

You were really looking forward to finding out the baby's gender, and you thought he was too. He stood by your side all the while, holding your hand as the ultrasound probe pressed against your skin and you waited with bated breath for Dr. Munson to announce—

“Well, it’s a girl!” he declared with a wide grin. “Whoa, Dr. Zayne is going to be a girl dad, huh?”

“Oh my…” Your eyes sparkled with joy at the news. You were fine with either, but you knew Zayne had secretly been hoping for a girl, and you turned to him with pure elation. However...

“That’s… good.” His response was brief, and although he was smiling, something felt off. You had been observing him for too long not to notice—you knew when your husband was distracted.

What is he thinking? Despite yourself, you began to worry.

“Zayne?” you asked later, holding his arm as you both exited Dr. Munson’s office. “Are you thinking about work?”

He turned to you almost immediately. “No.”

“Then why are you frowning?” you asked innocently, trying to lighten the mood by touching his face. He swiftly caught your hand.

“This is a public place,” he said in a strained voice, causing you to stiffen at his tone. “I’ll take you home first.”

Something was not right. Now you were convinced and it started to bother you.

“Actually… I need to go to the Hunter Association's base first to finish my deskwork,” you said.

His brows furrowed even deeper. “Can’t you just submit your leave?”

“Ah... I’m on half-day leave today. I need to wrap up as much as I can before I go on maternity leave later.”

“Next time,” he snapped, his gray eyes locked on you, “Whenever you have appointments, take a full-day leave. You’re in no condition to be working, especially as you get further along.”

"Zayne, are you... upset with me?" you fired the question then, because it seemed like he really did, and suddenly you felt a bit sick at the very thought.

He was certainly not expecting you to ask that, and for a moment, Zayne froze, before he exhaled and his frown softened a bit.

“…no,” he finally said, his tone gentler. “I just don’t want you to push yourself too hard.”

But ever since that day, you knew something had happened to him that he suddenly he became a little distant towards you.

. . .

Zayne hadn’t meant to snap at you. If anything, knowing you were carrying a baby girl filled him with unbridled happiness.

But still, there was still a part of him that wanted to demand answers from you—that part of him that was deeply hurt by what he discovered.

In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t take it too hard. No matter how much he reflected on it, he knew he hadn’t been the husband you deserved. He knew his faults and understood how much he had hurt you. From the very beginning, you deserved someone who would see only you and no one else—and he hadn't been that person before.

Even with that understanding, he was left with an unresolved hollowness. You had doubted him enough that you were ready to file for a divorce once. It didn't mean that the same thing wouldn't happen in the future.

Does he have it in him to make you happy? He had promised you he would. While he wasn't the most affectionate, he tried his best, and he intended to keep trying.

But now, after learning this, he found that not only you, but even he too was able to doubt himself.

"Zayne...?"

You peeked your head inside his study one night, several weeks later, a hand resting on your bump. You really didn't want to bother him when he just arrived, but you figured you had to tell him.

For the past week, you’d been throwing up, and it didn’t feel right. He had been at a symposium in another city since the start of the week, and you tried to wait it out. But today, you almost blacked out, and now you were genuinely afraid.

"Y/N?" he turned to you just as he laid his briefcase and the moment he saw you, he frowned at how pale you looked.

Zayne immediately stalked towards you and pulled you closer, feeling your neck to check your body temperature. His eyes widened in realization. "You have a fever."

"I-I... feel lightheaded today," you sputtered, clutching his arm. "And... I’ve been vomiting too..."

"I'll get you checked in at Akso," he decided, grabbing the car keys and led you out of the room by the shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me in your calls?"

Very lame excuse, but you tried to defend yourself nonetheless. "It wasn't this severe before—"

"You should have told me." His response was curt, but his fury was evident. You almost shrank at his tone, but Zayne didn't reprimand you further as he helped you into the passenger seat.

The drive was tense and uncomfortable, making you feel even worse. The silence only amplified your anxiety, and it didn't help that you had noticed how distant he was lately.

"I'm sorry—" you blurted but then suddenly, you sucked in a breath, wincing and fisting your dress when you felt the start of a cramp just below your ribs. "Ahh..."

Zayne’s panic surged at your pained gasp. He gripped your hand reassuringly, all trace of anger vanishing instantly. "We’ll arrive soon. I promise you’ll be alright."

At that moment, despite all fears you had—for your baby, of his sudden shift of behavior—you held back your sob and squeezed his hand in return.

. . .

You would be staying at the hospital until all the test results came in.

Zayne sat on the chair beside you, gaze fixed on you as you lay connected to an IV drip in the private room. Though he tried to mask it, he was still shaken. He knew better than anyone that fever and cramps at more than 20 weeks often signaled something was wrong with either the mother or the baby.

The thought of ailments beyond his control affecting either of you made his chest tighten. He loosened his tie and let out a sigh, trying to ease the constriction. "How do you feel now?"

You looked at him, managing a smile as you replied, "I’m fine now."

Seeing you bedridden like this was something he hadn’t realized he dreaded until that moment, and yet, there you were, smiling. You... smiled.

He couldn’t understand why the sight he usually adored suddenly stirred this swirling anger in him.

Your answer seemed to hit a nerve in him as his expression darkened, and anxiety struck you again, twisting something in your gut. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before..."

His lack of response only deepened your unease. "Before today, I didn’t feel faint at all, so I think it’s just something I ate."

He still didn't deign you with any answer. Zayne’s apparent disregard for your words frustrated you, bringing you close to tears. "Say something..." you urged, feeling the tears burn behind your eyes. "I know you're upset, but now I'm scared too."

You really wanted him to comfort you. You knew the Zayne from several weeks ago would do just that, but now you had a feeling that the man before you now wasn't that same man any longer.

"We’ll see when the results are ready," he said then, facing you with a stoic, matter-of-fact tone, as if he were delivering a diagnosis to a patient rather than speaking to his wife. "Don’t fret too much. Have some rest."

Is that... all he has to say to you? A part of your heart withered at his detached response, the tears frozen in your eyes. What happened to him?

You were about to confront him for an answer when his phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and answered.

"Hello? Yes, it's Zayne. Who is this?" he questioned flatly, eyes narrowed into a dissatisfied frown, before suddenly his expression lit up with understanding when the person on the other line introduced themselves.

You could hear the faint sound of a man's voice from his phone. And when Zayne addressed him, a sudden chill spread throughout your body.

"Caleb? It's... been a while."

You felt cold. Caleb. You never really knew him but you had certainly seen him. Once at a funeral, and once at your wedding. He too is Zayne's childhood friend, and more than that, he is the brother of—

Why? Why did all emotional suffering you had to go through, somehow or another, always come down to a dead woman who was once your husband's lover?

When he ended this call, you didn't even pretend to be considerate anymore. "What does he want from you?"

Zayne looked taken aback by your sudden hostility but answered calmly, "He’s in Linkon now and asked if we could meet."

"Must you really see him?"

"What are you getting at?"

"I don’t like it," you spat, venom clear in your voice, turning to him. "I don’t like it at all when you have to be involved with people related to her!"

Finally, you said it. You had never made it clear before, but this time, you felt like you were entitled enough to. You were having his daughter, and if he was still entangled in an illusion of his past girlfriend with you, then—

Zayne responded to your outburst with a suppressed sigh, visibly keeping his frustration in check. "He is an old friend, Y/N. You're too emotional right now that you jump into conclusions and stress yourself out."

He was right, your emotions were spiraling, but right now you were too heartbroken to care for it.

"Do you know what I fear the most?" you asked, tears shining in your eyes. At last, you voiced the dark, unspoken curse that had haunted you since the very beginning of it all:

"I’m afraid that one day, you’ll wake up and realize that either me or our baby is a mistake."

Zayne barely got any rest that night.

In the end, faced with your tears, he didn't respond because he didn't want to prolong the argument. More strain for you could put both you and the baby at risk.

Later, he told himself. No matter how much he berated himself for not noticing the signs of your illness sooner, or wanted show you that you and his unborn child meant everything to him now— later. He wouldn't risk you, and it would be better if you talk later with cooler heads.

Little did he know, that "later" would never come.

Numerous missed phone calls from the nurses station after he stepped out of the operating room sealed your fate. And when Greyson burst into his office, out of breath and panic-stricken, it was like being doused in scalding water.

"Dr. Zayne! Miss Y/N! Sh-she has just been rushed to ER for severe bleeding!"

Just like that, his world crashed and shattered beyond return.

. . .

"Dr. Zayne, I'm not sure how I should break this news to you... As a medical professional, you already know how serious this condition is..."

Everything was his greatest nightmare realized. Dr. Munson’s diagnosis struck him with a searing force, paralyzing him on the spot.

"Your wife has preeclampsia."

The nurses said you had been screaming and bleeding heavily. He too had seen it himself—the blood splattered across the pristine floor when he arrived, just moments after you were rushed to the emergency room—and the sight made a chill run through his spine in horror.

"She just experienced a partial placental abruption because of it. This causes bleeding in the mother, and also increases the risk of premature labor."

Dr. Munson’s explanation was crystal clear, yet it sent Zayne into a daze. It felt as if his chest had been ripped open, leaving him hollow as he stared numbly at your figure, peacefully asleep after the emergency treatment you had been put through.

Zayne clasped your hand in his, feeling the invincible knife lodged in his heart twist painfully.

You aren't supposed to be this cold. He gently griped your hand, his face contorted with agony. How terrified must you have been? How much did it hurt? Despite trying to push the memories away, seeing you like this brought back the nightmare from three years ago.

Only that this time, it was you. And not just you, but his unborn child as well. Both of you... there was a chance that both of you wouldn't survive.

The sheer thought made him stagger, because no, if it was the devil’s way to punish him, then it was beyond cruel. He had failed you once already, and he knew what happiness was by being with you, and to lose all of that in one blow—

"Zayne! Can you make me one more snowman?" you pleaded, your eyes sparkling as you pointed to the little gap between snowmen already perched on the window. "Just one more! It’ll make the line perfect!"

"I’m afraid that one day, you’ll wake up and realize that either me or our baby is a mistake."

It was so, so painful. His chest constricted at the contrasting memories and it took everything he had not to give in to his spiraling fears.

With everything I have, I love you. None of it mattered anymore. The divorce papers, whether he could make you happy— what was important was that It was unthinkable to lose you now. He would trade his life if it meant sparing you, because the pain of losing you would destroy him.

You had always loved that little thing he made on a whim. He opened your palm and shaped the ice through his manipulation, placing the palm-sized snowman in your grasp, hoping it would protect you throughout the night.

You remembered the excruciating pain, the primal dread of losing your baby, and the horrifying sight of crimson streaming endlessly between your legs, also how you screamed for anyone for help.

When you regained consciousness, the scent of fresh linen and alcohol was the first thing that greeted you. Dawn had already arrived, but the sky outside remained dark.

Your right palm felt cold, and that’s when you realized you were holding something. At the same time, you noticed the weight in your other hand—

Zayne. Your husband slept on the edge of your bed in such an uncomfortable position while holding your hand, his brows taut into a frown, only with a coat to cover himself.

He is here. You quietly watched him, and despite everything, you realized once again how much you loved him—even more that he was here for you.

Snowman… you stared at the little toy in your other hand, and overwhelming warmth washed over you at the thought of him creating it for you just before he slept.

The baby… what did you go through? Is she fine? You really couldn’t shake the feeling that something grave had happened to you.

You had to know. You pulled your left hand out of his grasp and caressed his face. He has to shave soon, you noted, feeling the stubble that had started to grow there. Still, you couldn't help but marvel at how handsome he was.

Your gentle touch soon caused his eyes to flutter open, and Zayne jerked awake, instinctively catching your hand. "You're awake..." he rasped, his voice rough with exhaustion.

He looked at you as if he was in disbelief, and immediately rose and squeezed your hand. You looked up to him, feebly asking, "What... happened to me?"

His face fell right that moment but you pressed on, "Tell me. I have to know..."

Zayne's reluctance was obvious, but the plea in your voice made him waver. Finally, he sighed and sat down on the edge of your bed.

"The test results have come back," he began, his voice adopting the clinical tone you recognized from when he spoke to his patients. "Your blood pressure is abnormally high, and there was protein found in your urine sample... These are signs of a condition called preeclampsia."

Shock marred your features in that moment, because you had heard what it was and what it meant for your baby.

"The only cure for preeclampsia is delivery. And at the same time the placenta has detached from the wall of your womb. This way, our baby—"

You had watched Zayne deliver devastating diagnoses to his patients before, and he was always steadfast. But this time, even his voice wavered.

His gray eyes seemed to glisten under the light as they held your gaze. "She's being deprived of oxygen and nutrients because the placenta can no longer supply them. You may also experience heavier bleeding, more cramps, and fetal distress. The best course of action now is to deliver the baby as soon as possible."

It felt like receiving death sentence. No matter how you looked at it, the conclusion was the same. "B-but..." you stammered, your whole body trembling, shaken by the enormity of it all. "S-she's just... barely twenty-six weeks..."

The way devastation bled in your voice pierced him. Without a word, Zayne pulled you into his arms, letting out a long, drawn-out breath as he held you close.

"I'm here," he assured, trying to console you. "You don't have to be scared. We'll monitor you closely until it's possible for you to give birth to the baby in around thirty weeks. I'll make sure of that."

The first of your sobs began. "...i-is it me?" you clutched at his coat mournfully. "Did I… p-put the baby into distress somehow— that it causes the placenta to fall away?"

"No," he firmly shushed you. "It's a condition that can flare up anytime. Don't blame yourself for it."

Still, how could you not? More than yourself, you feared for your unborn child. You sobbed harder, and Zayne held you even as his coat had started to dampen from your tears.

Your predicament broke his heart too, but at the same time, he found the perfect moment to finally show you the entirety of his heart.

"You told me you were afraid I'd come to see both of you as a mistake," he murmured, gently running his hand through your hair in an attempt to soothe you. "But how can our daughter be a mistake when—" his voice caught, choking on the words, "—when I've loved her so much already?"

The strain in his voice made you look up, and you were taken aback by the intensity of his gray eyes that bored into you.

“Both of you... are so precious to me.” Zayne locked his eyes with yours, sincerely meaning everything he said as he cradled the side of your face. “The thought that anything might happen to either of you... is unbearable.”

He pressed his forehead against yours, his voice hoarse, “What if… you continue to bleed and it leads to seizures? What if— you and the baby won’t make it? These are so unbearable for me.”

His words went straight into you, and for a moment, your tears receded as they sank in.

"I can’t give you my past." His voice tinged with melancholy, the expression on his face was torn. "But I promise you, at least in this lifetime..."

He gazed at you with the unwavering look you had fallen in love with, the same gaze you once admired from afar, long ago.

And then, his next declaration took your breath away and made your heart soar like never before. A wave of love surged within you, almost overwhelming you—

"Right this moment and my future—it's for you. For both of you, always."

From that moment on, you knew you would trust him completely. From that moment on, you finally let go of your doubts, knowing that you had nothing to fear with him by your side.

Zayne was by your side whenever he was able to.

You were on bedrest at the hospital ever since, but he always stayed the night here to accompany you, barely going back to home for a change of clothes.

"You’re really making a snowman..." he remarked, observing your fingers and the crochet hooks he’d brought from home so you could keep yourself entertained. "I think you need to add a bit more fluff there..."

Your face brightened with a grin as you cut the yarn. "Don’t worry, I’ll make it extra round."

The weeks in the hospital dragged on, but they also gave you more time to work on your amigurumi. When you finished putting the final touches on it, you proudly presented it to Zayne—the snowman with a blue shawl and black hat, two little round eyes, and a beaming line of smile. "Ta-da! Look, it’s even cuter than the ones you made!"

A happy you was always the sight he loved to see above all. "Yeah..."

"Do you think she'll love it?" you suddenly asked, poking the snowman doll you just made, feeling warm at the thought that your cherished baby will soon play with it too.

You looked so endearing that Zayne felt an overwhelming urge to pull you closer. “She will,” he chuckled, giving you a reassuring pat on the head. “Didn’t you say before she will?”

And soon, you reached the thirtieth-week mark. The time had come to finally deliver your baby.

. . .

"I can't feel anything..." Your voice came out as a soft whine while you lay on the operating table, your lower body numb and obscured by the surgical curtain shielding you from view.

Zayne, standing beside you in a mask and headcap, grasped your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours. "If you could feel it, you’d be screaming."

The C-section was the only way to ensure both you and your daughter would survive. It felt surreal to know they were basically cutting you open, yet you were unable to feel anything.

"Will... she come out healthy?" you asked your husband hesitantly, worried about your soon-to-be born baby. "I'm worried..."

Zayne glanced at you and gave your hand a light squeeze. "Don’t worry too much. You should be more concerned about yourself. Think of all the food you want to have when you get home, and I’ll get it for you."

You shot him a glare. "You make me sound like a foodie."

"You are a foodie."

Despite the ongoing surgery, Zayne’s lighthearted jabs were his way of easing your anxiety. Even though they irked you, you appreciated his attempts to lift your spirits.

And soon—

You heard a feeble cry, though quickly drowned out by the cheers of the surgical team beyond the curtain. You gasped and turned to Zayne, who was fixated on the tiny baby in Dr. Munson's hands.

He didn't even blink. It was almost as if he was spellbound by the sight. Nothing mattered because his daughter was here. Really here.

"Zayne…" your voice then broke the spell. He turned to you, who weakly smiled at him with tears in your eyes.

For the first time in your life, you saw tears of happiness glistening in his eyes as he stared at you— the woman who had just given him a daughter to love and dote on.

He immediately leaned in to press a kiss on your forehead. Your heart felt so full, even though he wasn’t able to fully express it in words. In that moment, you could feel his profound love for you and the new life you would embark on together.

"She is so small..."

You pressed yourself as close as you could to the see-through glass of the neonatal unit, straining to get a glimpse of your baby daughter. Though you weren't well enough to walk three days after the surgery, you insisted on Zayne wheeling you over in a wheelchair just so you could have a peek.

"She’ll grow big soon," Zayne said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder when he noticed your sadness. "She’ll stay there for a few more weeks, and then we can bring her home."

However, your expression twisted into a worried frown as you watched the gentle rise and fall of your baby’s tiny chest inside the incubator. Even when he had reassured you that it was by all means just an unfortunate condition, you couldn't help feeling that it was your fault somehow that she ended up there.

She had his tufts of black hair, but you weren’t able to get close enough to remember her face clearly. The fact that you hadn’t held her in your arms yet made your heart ache.

"Mommy is sorry that she can't carry you to full-term..." you croaked out, lips wobbling, a hand tracing the glass separating you from your new baby, and Zayne inhaled sharply at the sight.

It hadn’t been easy, but you had made it through. Both of you had. And to him, that was more than enough. So, you needed to hear it too.

He crouched down in front of you, catching your attention instantly. You tilted your head as his hands rested gently on your shoulders.

“Thank you for delivering our daughter safely,” he said with the softest of smiles, ever so genuine just as you were in all times of the two of you together.

Your eyes widened a bit at his sudden gratitude, and when he took both of your hands together in his, gazed at you with such earnestness in his clear ash-grey eyes, and traced his thumbs over your knuckles, your heart skipped a beat.

“And most of all, thank you... for being safe too.”

Those words brought immense warmth to you, and the prettiest of smile lit up your face then at the way he looked at you as if you were his most prized treasure. Just like that, once again, he cast all your fears and doubts aside.

And deep down, you knew that with him by your side, everything was going to be alright.

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[lymtw]

A Perfect Night For Wine

Toji invites you over with a simple text of:

You busy tonight, doll?

To which you respond with:

I don't think so... Not that I know of. Why?

He laughs through his nose when he reads your message. Even the way you text him has your timidness imbued into it. It's precious.

Come spend the night at my place. You told me you're off tomorrow, right?

I am, but are you sure? Driving home is not a problem for me. I can hang out and go home after.

You're staying. I wanna try something with you and it requires you to stay the night. You can't go home.

Oh okay! I'll be there in 10.

Drive safe.

Toji likes that you're very precise about the time you'll be arriving somewhere, and if you're ever late when it comes to spending time with him, you apologize profusely, nonstop. You won't stop blubbering about why you're late and how sorry you are for making him wait, even after Toji's expressed that he's more than understanding. He's the king of showing up late to plans, so he can't be a hypocrite and scold you when you don't do it often at all.

You're so sorry, though, and you don't shut up about it until he makes you shut up with a kiss. You're helpless, and you can't for the life of you figure out where to put your hands when you're so focused on the grip he had on your waist to pull you up against him.

He releases your lips, cracking a grin at the look of wonder on your face. He can't deny the pride that swells in his chest at his ability to disarm you and prevent you from having a total meltdown over a three minute delay.

Toji has gotten so much better at handling situations like these with you. It's only fair for him to gain satisfaction out of making you feel better. After all, you are a first for him. You're emotionally fragile, you're a nervous wreck, and your voice competes with the wind just to be heard. Toji doesn't set aside the fact that you're also beautiful, warmhearted, and you try for him. He sees your attempts to be affectionate. You'll slowly reach your hand out to hold his and then bail the second he catches you. He ends up having to interlock his fingers with yours because your embarrassment doesn't allow you to try again. He still appreciates that you leave your comfort zone for him and allow him to guide you towards new experiences.

"Stop with the guilty feelings, ma. We have all night and all day tomorrow. What's a couple minutes to ensure you get to me in one piece?" He says, comforting your droopy self. You look like a sad, abandoned puppy, now sporting rosy cheeks from his surprising gesture.

"Okay," you say, feeling a little more at ease. "What did you have in mind for tonight?"

"Follow me," he says, leading you through his living room to his kitchen. He pulls out a stool for you and points at it. "Sit." You want to laugh at the way he says it like he's teaching commands to a dog, but you know he doesn't mean it that way, so you obediently sit down like one anyway.

"Have you eaten anything?" He asks, silently hoping you have because he doesn't have anything to make you dinner. He would have to order in or pick something up.

"I ate a couple hours ago. Still pretty full," you respond, watching him reach up for something in his cabinets. There's now a tall glass bottle with a red label and matching cap sitting on the counter.

"How 'bout it?" He says, a large hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle. "We could go to the couch and watch a movie or something."

He's never seen you under the influence of anything, but based on your reaction, maybe he'll get a show tonight. He's always wanted to know what you would be like if you were more extroverted and outspoken. There's nothing wrong with the way you are, but if things keep going the way they're going between you and Toji, he's bound to meet your chatty alter ego at some point in the future. What better way to have this experience than in a secure place with someone who can handle their alcohol and take care of you if it turns out that you can't.

"Okay, sure." You giggle, excitedly.

You're a lightweight. Even the fruitiest, sweetest alcoholic beverage will quickly take a toll on you while you're sipping on it. Wine is a step up, so you'll have to try your best to keep it together for the sake of not looking sloppy in front of Toji.

Toji brings down two glasses, and pours out the deep red liquid into them. One for you, one for him. He hands the glass to you, and nods at your quiet "thank you".

Toji watches as you immediately take a sip. He sees the way your nose scrunches at what you consider to be a funny taste, but the second you put the glass down, you smile like nothing. You don't like it at all. You hate the bitterness, and the fact that it's made with fermented grapes lives in the back of your head.

"How is it?" He asks, holding back a chuckle. You're too sweet for your own good, pretending to enjoy this for him.

"I like it," you say, pressing your lips together.

"Yeah? I think it's kinda gross. Guess I was expecting more from a fancy ass bottle, but brands are gonna brand, huh?"

You giggle, almost involuntarily. You're one gulp in, and already you're starting to feel the effects.

One of your worst habits includes chugging drinks that don't taste good, just so you can get them over with. You even do this when your drink is messed up at coffee shop. You're too nice to ask the barista to remake it, so you suck it up and drink the incorrect beverage solely for the caffeine you hope it has in it. This time is no different. You hate the taste of alcohol. You don't do plain shots, you can't stand hard ciders, and wine is no exception, but you're doing this for Toji. He cracked open the bottle to share with you, so you're going to drink every ounce of the liquid in the glass, whether you like the taste or not.

You bring the glass to your lips again, taking a much larger sip. The glass is a little less than halfway now, and your eyelids are starting to feel a little heavy. Not in a sleepy manner, but you can't seem to hold your eyes open as wide anymore.

You exhale through your nose, shut your eyes, and then blink them back open to take note of your altered state.

"That was a lot. How are you feeling?" Toji asks, noticing a shift in your demeanor. You seem a little more sluggish now. You turn your attention to him, your eyes rolling when they turn to meet his.

"I'm good, how are you?" You ask, like it was the start of a conversation rather than an ongoing one. Your eyes almost shut completely when you smile at him.

"You're tipsy already, aren't you?" He asks, with a grin on his face.

"Pshh, what? No, i'm not," you say, contradicting yourself with a giggle. "Answer the question, baby. How are you?"

"Fine," he responds, lingering on the pet name. You've got loose lips, now. In any other circumstance, you would address him by his name. Most of the time Toji is the one giving you pet names, for the sake of flustering you. He loves the way you look at him when he calls you doll or sweetheart, somewhat shocked every time the words leave his mouth.

"Yeah? That's good." You pick up the glass one more time, sighing before you mutter, "'scuse me. Gotta finish this."

With that last sip, the glass was now empty. Even Toji thinks you drank that too fast, but he still has the courtesy to ask you if you want more.

"Mhm, I'll have a little bit more. Just a tiny bit." Toji pours as much as he did the first time, chuckling when you nod in approval of the quantity. "That's perfect. Absolutely, perfect. You're a genius, my love." You flash him a smile before starting on the next glass.

Toji was considering having another glass, but that was before you called him "my love" in a tone so warm that he felt like he just had a bowl of hot soup that was now settling in his stomach. That was before you smiled at him in such a free spirited manner. It was too late for him to see you in this state while completely sober, but he sure as hell wouldn't be adding anymore alcohol to his system. He can't miss something like this, so instead he leans forward on the counter, and intently watches your every move.

"I got something on my face?" You ask, dragging your sleeves all over your face. You examine your sleeves and they're clean. "You liar. You're looking at me like that for nothing." You squint at him, a slight scrunch in your nose to define your defensiveness.

Toji laughs, his focus now on the small pinch in your brows. "Don't go picking fights over nothing. It's not a crime to look at my pretty baby."

Your faux tough exterior immediately crumbles, the irked expression on your face dropping to the ground, at the sugary words he uses on you. Your face feels very warm, and now there's an indefinite blush on it. You can't stop smiling at the look on Toji's face. He's so focused that he's gone speechless, and you eventually break into a laughing fit because of it.

"Hey... i'm usually the quiet one. Why aren't you talking, pretty boy? Need me to shut up?"

The pet name has Toji glancing at your glass, noticing that it was full for less than five minutes. This was new— you being flirtatious towards him. He didn't have any complaints about it whatsoever.

Once again, the quantity of the wine in your glass was below the halfway mark. "Nah, baby. Talk to me. You must really like the wine, huh?"

"Mmm..." you lean forward towards him, with your elbow on the counter and your chin in your palm. "What makes you say that?"

He actually snickers this time, earning a sly grin from you. "You're chugging it like it's water. It's either you love it or it tastes like ass and you're dying to spit it out."

You pick up the glass again, one last time. "Let's find out if I like it," you say as if you're not on your second serving. You let the liquid hit your tongue, and you are instantly repulsed by the flavor. The glass is tilted all the way up, signaling that you've finished two cups of wine in less than fifteen minutes. Your cheeks are filled with the drink, blown up like a puffer fish, which makes Toji smile softly with anticipation for your reaction. Your tongue stays on the roof of your mouth, keeping the wine in your cheeks separate, to give you a break for a few seconds. You release the bubbles of your cheeks and your mouth is flooded with the bittersweet liquid. You swallow the burgundy mouthful and smile with your lips pressed together once it's all gone. The mouth drying effect of wine is your least favorite thing about it.

"So?" Toji prompts.

"It's-" you gag, clasping a hand over your mouth with wide, slightly teary eyes.

Toji's chest and shoulders shake as he contains his laughter, his lips pressed together tightly to stifle the smile threatening to show itself, but his eyes tell you everything.

"Wooo, sorry about that," you say, chuckling through the embarrassment. "It's good," you repeat, still muffled by your palm.

"Yeah? Want more?" Toji asks, holding up the bottle with a teasing grin on his face.

You almost gag again but manage to control yourself. "No, thank you. Any more and I'll doze off, and we both know that's not what i'm here for." There was a hint of sultriness in your tone, something Toji was not sufficiently familiar with. It was a completely welcome shift from your normally tentative way of speaking to him.

"I know why you're here, but I wanna know what you think you're here for."

You stand from your stool and lean more of your body onto the counter. Your hand reaches for his, and for the first time, you don't pull back before making contact with his skin. "To love on you, of course," you say, with those pretty rosy cheeks. Your eyes remained glossy and your nose was still red from trying not to bring the wine back up earlier, but Toji thought you looked so cute.

"Is that right?" His thumb brushes over your knuckles, feeling the softness against his rough fingertip.

"Let's go watch that movie you were talking about and you'll see what I mean."

Toji was loving this. Your confidence, your lack of holding back anything you had to say, it was truly baffling how you could be someone else entirely with just a couple glasses of wine.

You keep his hand in yours, and as if it were your house, you say, "come on," and drag him along to the living room.

This time you say "sit" and point at the couch. This time he's the obedient dog and does as you say, sitting on the exact cushion you were pointing at with a smirk on his face. He moves the couch pillow aside to make room for you, but you had another seat in mind. You take two steps towards him before slowly dropping yourself into his lap, straddling him.

"I see you're finally taking your seat on the throne, hm?" He grins, resting his hands on your waist. This is the closest Toji's been allowed to watch you giggle without you burying your face into his neck and it's a trip. He can see the details of the creases around your eyes and the lift in your cheeks as you smile. He feels fuzzy, and he didn't even finish his glass of wine, so he knows it's not that.

"Stop making me laugh and pick a movie, will you? I'm here for that, too."

He picks up the remote for the TV and turns it on. "How are you gonna watch the movie while facing me?"

"Actually,.. can I tell you a secret, baby?" You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your fingers play with the hair that reaches towards the nape of his neck, combing through it gently.

"What's that, princess?" Toji asks, vert eyes flitting between your eyes and that sweet smile of yours.

"I don't wanna watch a movie. I... wanna look at you... and that's it." Your nails gently scratch the back of his head, eliciting a tingly sensation that makes chills run down his spine.

"That's cool, too," Toji says, turning the TV off again, not caring that it was on for less than a minute before you changed your mind. He sighs, adjusting his position beneath you. Your thighs are secured around his hips, your knees touching the backrest of the couch.

"You're so handsome, my baby. God, look at those eyes," you whisper in awe, before giggling and bringing your hands to his face. You trace the bags under his eyes with your thumbs while admiring the haunting shade of green that scopes on you. Toji's hand comes up to loosely wrap around your wrist. He's not there to stop you, he just wants to move along with you as you observe his face.

"I know I don't say this to you enough, but I find you..." you sigh, blinking slowly, "enchanting..." You lean in and kiss the left corner of his lips—his right, and feel the smooth, tattered skin beneath your warm lips. "and I love you," you mumble into the cicatrix. "So fucking much, baby. And i'm sorry that you'll never know exactly how much because you aren't me." You're looking at him with so much adoration and touching him with a delicacy that can't be put into words. It's a deadly combination, one that has Toji in a chokehold and forces him to soften up even more for you.

He tightens the hold he has on your waist, pulling you closer until your stomach is pressed to his, as a result. You being so affectionate towards him is making him feel really good, and you have no idea because you're too focused on appreciating him. He's subconsciously leaning into your touch, his softened gaze meeting your lovestruck one.

"Fuck. I love you, too, princess," he murmurs, squeezing your wrist in his hand. He pulls your hand down to his chest. "Want you to aim for my lips, this time."

"Okay," you say, smiling before closing the distance between your lips and Toji's. He can still taste the remnants of the wine you inhaled minutes ago, but it tastes much better and a lot sweeter on you. Toji can hear your high pitched little hums as you kiss him, happiness pouring into your kisses. You're trying so hard not to laugh in his face, and trying is the best you can do, right now. You never were good at hiding your smile from Toji. He can't see it, but he can feel the way your lips widen, and he's occasionally kissing your teeth when your sluggishness keeps you from matching his pace. With little pants leaving you, you drag your lips away.

He sighs, frustrated by the loss of your softness against him. "Baby..." he groans, the sound almost whine-like to your ears. He wants more, so much more of you, and you're ignoring him. You're too busy kissing his chin, and his cheeks, and the tip of his nose.

You drag your other hand down to his chest and keep your hands splayed out on it as you let your lips trail his jaw, lightly sucking on the skin. Toji can't help but think about how this version of you will be gone in the morning. You won't be as outwardly affectionate, you'll go back to second guessing every move you make with him and shrinking every time he steals kisses from you, instead of confidently kissing him back like you did a minute ago.

You make your way down his neck, pressing kiss after kiss on him before you move towards his ear. "I love you, Toji," you whisper, kissing the shell of his ear after. "Love you, love you, love you soooo much," you barrage, before throwing him off with a bite to his earlobe. You giggle like a menace into his ear, the warmth of your breath luring goosebumps out onto his skin.

He chuckles, repeatedly squeezing the soft skin of your waist between his hands. "Yeah? Tell me again," he murmurs snaking his hands beneath the back of your shirt. Your skin is very warm, and there's nothing to blame but Toji and that shitty wine for making your body react this way.

With uninterrupted hands, you course your fingers through his hair and lean in to bite him again, this time on his neck. Toji chuckles at how you instantly rush to soothe him with your tongue and a warm kiss, even when you inflicted zero pain on him.

"I love you, Toji," you repeat into the wet indentations you left behind. "My love... my handsome man... I cherish you, you know?"

Toji is practically purring at all the affection you're showering him with. The slurring of your words is blocked out and they remain clear as day to him. He manages to hum a deep little "mhm" to your last statement.

"It's just so hard to talk to you sometimes. You... you're so intimidating, sometimes. I don't expect you to understand..." you divert your gaze to his shoulder, not able to look him in the eyes as vulnerability takes sudden control of your emotions. "It seems like I don't appreciate you sometimes—all the time, but I do, Toji. I do appreciate you, and I can't ever say I love you enough to show it. Words aren't always enough."

Toji catches the waver in your voice and his eyes dart to yours. You're tearing up, and you're trying to still your quivering lips by pressing them together.

"Shit," Toji mutters under his breath. You have the saddest expression he's ever seen and it's messing with his heart. He pulls his hands out of your shirt so that he can swiftly pull you into his warm embrace. "Hey," he coos. You're shaking against him, holding your breath to avoid sobbing. Your lungs burn, but you'd rather feel that than make a scene of your tears. "Don't be sad, mama. What's with the tears, hm?" he murmurs. He can feel your tears dampening his shoulder, but the fact that you haven't made a sound is concerning. "Breathe or you'll die," he says, only half joking. He rubs a soothing palm against your back, his other arm around your waist.

You let out what sounds like a mixture between a choked laugh and a sob, slowly but surely regulating your breathing. You don't even feel like saying anything anymore because you know your voice will give way to even more pity.

"You're more than enough for me," Toji says, his chin resting on your head. "I know how you feel, you know how I feel. We're complete." He can feel the way you scrunch his shirt up into your fists. As if he would go anywhere without you. "I get you and you're stuck with me. Got it?" You silently nod against his shoulder in response. "Sit up and let me look at you."

You really don't want him to see you this way. Your eyes feel swollen and you don't feel presentable.

"I can't..." you say, barely audible. You release his shirt and let your hands go limp behind him.

"Why not?"

"I'm not pretty right now. Don't look at me."

"I'm gonna look at you," he challenges with a teasing grin.

"Toji, don't look at me."

"Too late, it's happening. Plan's already in motion," he says, sliding his arms onto your shoulders.

"Toji, don't-" He effortlessly pushes you off his shoulder and gives you a once over. You look defeated and you're unable to look him in the eyes, but at least he can see you now.

"Don't know what you were so worried about. You look the same but more blush-y." You finally give him your slightly reddened eyes, a soft smile appearing on your face. You look like your sober self. "Yeah, you look the same."

"Are you lying?" You ask, still not regaining the full strength of your voice yet.

"I wouldn't tell you if I was, but no, i'm not lying. You're so pretty." Toji wiped away tears that were stuck beneath your eyes, and you giggled. He washed away your sadness within a couple minutes. Toji always did this for you in exchange for your love and affection. He lifted your spirits when you didn't feel deserving of him, and with time, he got much better at recognizing the signs that came with this ridiculous idea you planted in your head.

"You're done loving on me? Already?" He asks in playful disbelief.

"You're not done with me? Do you actually want more?" You ask, hesitantly.

"Don't want more, I need more," he corrects, returning his hands to their rightful place on your waist. "Get all up on me, princess."

You giggle, leaning closer towards him to peck a kiss onto his cheek.

"Mhm, like that," he says, contently, when you pick up the pace and start smothering him. "Yeah, baby, there you go." His forearms go beneath your shirt, encircling around your bare waist and pulling you close to him like before. "Who's getting spoiled like me?" He says through a grin. You're holding back laughs as he continues to praise you for your affection.

"S-Stop," you say through a wheeze, not able to contain the sound any longer when you looked at him.

"What are you laughing at, huh?" He chases you this time, pressing his nose into your cheek before planting a light kiss into your jaw.

"You're so unserious," you say, turning your head as he keeps going with the kisses.

"Mmm... I'm serious about you," he says, feeling the vibration of your laughter against his grin. "So serious."

Your cheeks feel incredibly hot from how much you've been smiling. In this little drunken haze, things are so good. You're so happy, you're so affectionate, and you talk so much. This isn't like you at all, but it's not hurting anyone, especially not Toji. There was one minor slip, but you moved past it so quickly like the words never left your head to begin with. You're just so simple... so easy to take care of.

Toji notices the way your eyes are starting to lid with tiredness, and while he would love for you to doze off in his arms right then and there, you'd probably prefer waking up in a bed.

"Let's go to bed, yeah?" He suggests.

"What? No! I just got here... We can still talk, and kiss and- I'm not even tired."

Toji grins at the way you fight him on this, and he has half a mind to indulge you when you look so adorable, but he has to stand his ground. He's right.

"But, you are. You can't even hold your eyes open, anymore."

You feel sad again because the rest of the night would be going to waste if you both go to sleep early. You're there to spend time with Toji, and yet you feel like it's your fault your time is being cut short. You're thinking you shouldn't have drank the wine so quickly, if at all.

"Listen, doll," Toji says. He doesn't like the sadness that resurfaces on your pretty face. He doesn't think you should look that way because of him. "We're just gonna go lay in bed. We don't have to go to sleep. We can stay up as long as you want. Light on or light off, whatever you wanna do, let's just move it to the room."

You sigh, still not completely convinced that the night isn't over, but Toji managed to persuade you. "Will you carry me, please? My legs feel like jelly."

"Of course. What kind of person would I be if I let you stumble into the room on your own?"

You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, your face buried into the crook of his neck. "You'd still be my favorite person, but i'd be a little upset..."

Toji stands from the couch, humming in response to your quiet mumbles.

"...but not really upset. Just a little bummed. Not for too long, though, 'cause I love you, but I would expect an apology from you if I fell down," you draw out.

Toji cracks at your little ramblings. It's a ten second walk from the couch to the bedroom, and the whole time you were working through a hypothetical conflict.

"Yeah? You'd want me to say sorry?" He asks, setting you down on the bed.

"Mhm, and then I wouldn't be upset or bummed anymore," you mutter to yourself as you roll onto your back.

"That's fair. Want the light on or off?"

"Off," you blurt. "Let's tell scary stories," you trill, enthusiastically. You pull the blanket over your lower body until it reaches just below your chest.

Toji makes his way to the bed after turning off the light. He takes his shirt off, and out of habit lets it fall to the floor. "We're not telling scary stories this late at night," he says, joining you beneath the blanket.

"But, they're funny," you say, turning to face him. "I don't get scared, either."

"Depends on who's telling the story. I'm sure as hell not gonna feed you a nightmare, doll."

"Boo," you say, lowly. "Whatever, i'm over it already," you mutter, rolling your eyes.

Toji watches you grow more and more tired as you throw random, nonsensical topics at him. You're taking longer to respond by the minute, and you're dozing off while humming in thought. You shake awake each time it happens and try to keep the conversation going, but Toji just shushes you and tells you to go back to sleep.

"I can see the moon through the window," you mumble, looking past him.

"I know, shh..." he hushes you, again.

"There's only like... one star," you whisper, in awe.

"Baby, come here," Toji says, like he's about to lecture you about the rules of sleep, but really he's just thinking that if his body heat doesn't put you down, he's gonna have to stay up with you until you fall asleep on your own.

You scoot closer towards Toji, tucking your arms into your chest when he reaches out to pull you into him the rest of the way. His body exudes so much warmth, you feel like you don't need the blanket at all.

There was nothing left for you to say when you couldn't see or feel anything but him. It was as if you were gone the second he enveloped you in his arms. You were small to the brink of nonexistence, no longer there to tell him what your surroundings were, or to ask him thoughtless, silly questions. You were no longer there to fight off the sleep he only seemed to bring closer towards you. Feeling his warm skin against you made you change your mind about this invisible fiend that was pulling your eyelids down. You now welcomed the calls to rest from your steady heartbeats.

Your silence gave him the answer he needed, but for good measure, he poked at you with a whisper of, "Ma?" and waited a few seconds for your response. Nothing. He sighed and coiled around you tighter. Thoughts of the night ran through his head. Your soft, yet, occasionally bruising kisses and the imprints of your teeth on his skin, your unapologetic laughter, your certainty in using the pet names that claimed him as yours. He was weak for the amount of times you openly told him you loved him. It was a psychedelic dream, to say the least. One he hoped would continue once he followed you into slumber.

You woke up hours later, completely smothered by your bear of a man. All you could do was stare up at the ceiling, while you waited for Toji to wake up because he was literally breathing down your neck. His arm rested over your chest, his legs were tangled with yours, and his face was right beside your face. You weren't feeling the effects of the wine anymore, and luckily, you didn't have a headache or any signs of a hangover. You were back, which meant...

"What are you staring at?" A deep, raspy voice jolts you out of your thoughts.

You look at the handsome face next to you, and as if your heart can hear and see, it wakes up. "Nothing. Just woke up," you lie.

"Mm... you were staring hard at the roof. I thought it came to life or something," Toji chuckles. You smile, briefly, before looking at the ceiling again.

Toji releases you and flips onto his back, wanting to know what's so fascinating about the space you're looking at. "What are you thinking?" He asks, when he discovers nothing but blank space.

You take your time, not wanting to stumble over your words. Your heart skips a beat when he turns his head to look at you. In the time it takes for you to respond, you both could have gone back to sleep again.

"A penny for your thoughts?" he finally says, following the idiom with a question. "Did I even use that correctly?"

You can't help but laugh, nodding your head to answer his question. "I'm thinking about last night. Sorry if I said anything stupid."

Toji turns his body towards you again, thinking the only thing that's stupid is that he's still staring at the roof instead of staring at you. "You didn't. You were calm, from what I got to see, at least."

"So... boring."

"Not boring," he instantly catches. "You were perfect. You didn't have me running around chasing you, you weren't a brat—it couldn't have gone better, ma." He purposely missed something in his less than brief recount of the night to you. He can think back to the emotions that seeped through your little daze, and your insecurity about outwardly showing him love, all he wants, but there's no way in hell he's bringing that up to you, now. "You ramble a lot," he adds, a soft smile emerging on his face.

You can feel your cheeks warming up. "Oh god," you groan in embarrassment. "That's not- Sorry, that sounds... not so fun. Annoying of me, actually."

"Stop, it was cute," he assures, adding more fury to the blush creeping on your face. "Then you wouldn't go to sleep 'cause you kept seeing stuff outside the window."

You wanted to drown yourself in the blanket. Shame and embarrassment were winning their battle against you, as always.

"That was also cute," he says, watching the way your lips twitch as you bite back a smile. "You know my favorite part, though?" He says, grinning as he leans towards your ear.

"N-No, what?" You ask, trying so hard not to giggle.

"When you kissed me and told me you loved me," he murmurs into your ear like it's a dirty secret.

You snicker, the short sound of amusement evolving into laughter within seconds. You throw the blanket over your face and partially over Toji's face. The sight of your veiled body shaking with laughter lured out a couple chuckles of his own.

"That's funny?" He asks, pulling the blanket down, allowing you to see the sly grin he's sporting.

"A little bit," you respond, smiling— a remainder of your laughter.

"Silly girl. Come here," he says, dragging you back into his arms. "There's no reason you should be awake at six in the morning on your day off. Let's go back to sleep," he murmurs into the crown of your head. "We can go out for breakfast, later."

"Okay," you mumble, eyes shut already as you embrace the natural warmth of his body.

"One more thing," he murmurs. You don't raise your gaze, but your ears are open and you're listening closely. "Tell me you love me."

You didn't expect that, but you weren't going to deny him of such a simple thing. The words were easy to recite because you meant them with every fiber of your being. "I love you, Toji," you comply, immediately.

He sighs, contently, almost like hearing those words revitalized him. "Love you, too, mama."

That went out to every version of you.

[fashionbitchgd]

twitter is the most insane place on earth

just now i was this close 🤏 to fighting a blackjack who came for me when i said gee was robbed of soty at the 2009 mama

i haven't seen a blackjack x sone fight literally since 2014 🙃

how tf are ppl still fighting there over shit everyone got over a literal decade ago 🫠

[mochidoie]

diet pepsi.

listen to - diet pepsi by addison rae na jaemin x reader wc - 10k genre - fluff and hotness, shy!reader, flirty!jaemin, suggestive warnings - shirtless jaemin x4, mentions of a "nude" pic, partying/drinking, a makeout session, aloootttt of sensual tension! a/n - HERE IT IS! thank you all so much for the hype over the preview. i hope yall enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it:) comments and feedback are always appreciated!! i read all of them! update: i still can't move on from that jaemin pic.

Accidentally walking in on your best friend's hot housemate half naked with a towel around his waist in the bathroom was never in your plans. But maybe, it was in his?

“Why do you guys have so much Diet Pepsi in your fridge?” There is a slight cadence of disgust in your voice, judgment for the most part, knowing damn well no one drinks Pepsi – let alone Diet Pepsi. 

Mark shuts the fridge door that you’ve left idly open as you rummage through the kitchen cabinets for a snack. “It was a late night purchase. The store ran out of all the good stuff.”

“Now, it’s left taking up space.” You snarl, picking through opened bags of crackers, chips and candy that aren’t sealed properly. “You guys never have good snacks.” Giving up, you make your way upstairs toward the only bathroom in this entire shared house.

“Well, last time I checked, you don’t live here.” Mark hollers from the kitchen, a bit of sass in his statement. “Yet you’re here all the time!”

“You’re overjoyed I’m always here!” Your body leans over the railing of the stairs, calling out to your best friend in an unnecessarily booming voice and a light giggle at the end of your sentence.

Mark doesn’t respond and you’re deep in the hallway in search for the bathroom that is shared between four college men. Although you’re solely Mark’s best friend, the other three guys have welcomed you into their house as they would their own. Honestly speaking, you’re only rambunctiously annoying when you’re just around Mark. His housemates know you as his shy and sweet friend. 

It’s hard for you to open up to others, despite these people being equally as close to Mark as you are. There is just not enough common ground for you to relate to them, as nice as they are when you’re at their house.

Jeno is probably the most similar to you, a man of few words and a smile that resembles a kind puppy. He doesn’t contribute much to the conversation, but he is always laughing at their shared jokes and silly antics. Haechan is the most different from you, playful and Mark’s nightmare at times. Lastly, there’s Jaemin, a man who you’ve found yourself stealing glimpses of whenever he is near. 

Your heart leaps and twirls at any mention of his name, his whereabouts, him. Though, your crush on Jaemin will never come to light. You only let yourself admire from afar, a man as hot and charming as he is already has an entourage waiting on him. And Mark would never let you live it down that you’re practically drooling over his housemate. 

So as you find yourself in front of the bathroom door, you don’t hear the shuffling on the other side. You mindlessly turn the knob and open to reveal Jaemin, shirtless with a towel low around his waist.  

He doesn’t even flinch at the sudden exposure, clearly engulfed in taking a mirror picture. Both of his arms hold up his soft pink phone, his biceps flexing at the simple position. His broad, wide shoulders are on display and all you see is his bare silky skin. You’re gawking, anyone can see at a mile away, hungry eyes tracing the outline of his toned chest and chiseled abs. 

When he finally acknowledges your presence, a big toothy grin appears on his face. Your name rolls off his tongue excitedly, “you’re right. I am overjoyed you’re here.” His lower register catches you off guard and something inside of you spikes at its rumble.

Jaemin watches as you try to find your words, tripping over your own tongue. He drinks up how your eyes bounce between his face and his bare upper body, lost in his canvas. 

“Sorry!” You quickly shut the door, odd that you’re the one embarrassed when he is the one who got walked in on. Running down the stairs, you slam right into Mark, causing him to fall back onto the couch.

“Whoa! Are you in a rush or something?” Mark groans. His eyes fixate on your flustered expression. “What happened?”

You’re deciding whether or not you should lie to him, committed to not exposing and embarrassing yourself even further. “Just bumped into Jaemin. Does he normally not lock the bathroom door?”

There is a small quiver in your voice, but you try your best to remain nonchalant and calm. Mark raises a curious eyebrow, a shaky grin grows on his lips. You can’t even imagine all the wild and inappropriate thoughts spinning in this college boy’s head.

“That’s weird. He’s usually good about that stuff.” He snickers, “What did you see?”

“Get your head out of the gutter.” You lightly slap the back of his head, but feel heat spread across the tips of your ears and run its way down to your cheeks. “I didn’t see anything.”

“Bummer, bet you wanted to.” Mark jokes, a fit of giggles erupting from his stomach. 

You roll your eyes and proclaim loudly, “I have no interest in Jaemin.” Liar. The image of his hot body still hasn’t left your mind. It’s catastrophic. Crossing your arms, you plop onto the sofa next to your best friend. 

Right on cue, another voice chimes in. Coming down the stairs, Jaemin dances his hand on the railing. His muscular arms catches your immediate attention as he flaunts around in a tight white tank, his other hand in the pocket of his gray sweats. “Damn, that really hurts my ego, (y/n), especially after you’ve seen me naked just now.” 

Nonetheless, he doesn’t look offended. Instead, a sweet smirk curves upward on his perfect face. You swallow hard, bashful and ashamed yet again that Jaemin continues to ruin you. 

Mark is laughing his hardest, but you don’t hear him. Your heart pounds in your ears, rapidly and loudly. “You weren’t naked, Jaem. Don’t give Mark any ideas.”

Jaemin chuckles, tucking in his chin shyly. His charming smile is subtle, but dazzling. You’re absolutely positive you have tiny stars swimming in your eyes just looking at him. He makes his way past you two, toward the kitchen to grab a Diet Pepsi out of the fridge.

“I’m sorry, I’ll remember to lock the door next time.” He apologizes, taking a sip of his drink and grimacing at the taste.

“What were you even doing in there?” Leave it to Mark to be such a curious cat. You nudge him in the rib and he winces noisily. “I want to know what you saw! You guys are acting so suspicious.” He sends a glare at you.

Jaemin comes up behind the couch. He leans over, handing Mark his phone. On display is the picture you witnessed Jaemin take a few minutes ago and the frontal view is even better than what you saw from the side. Your sharp intake of breath doesn’t go unnoticed by Jaemin, but he doesn’t call it out. 

The picture could be considered a nude, even if it cuts right at his waistline. It’s so scandalous and he doesn’t seem the slightest sheepish about it. If anything, he and Mark are grinning together at Jaemin’s godly body, like two bros appreciating each other’s muscles. 

“Yo, Na Jaemin! This is so crazy, look at that chest work.” Mark giddily hits at Jaemin’s chest, displaying a weird manly affection for his housemate. “All those hours at the gym are paying off. Are you posting this?” 

Jaemin shakes his head. “It’s only meant for special eyes.” He glimpses briefly over at you, but you avert contact quickly. You think about all the people the boys talk about during their drunk kickbacks, but Jaemin is incredibly secretive. I don’t kiss and tell, is what he always says when the guys try to probe him with investigative questions.

You normally try to pretend like it doesn’t bother you, always helping him by telling the boys to mind their own business. Nonetheless, you’re probably the only person in the room who wants to know the most about his endeavors. 

“This is a nude?!” Mark jumps up and throws the phone back at Jaemin, rubbing his eyes in hopes to rid the picture out of his memory. “I love you dude, but I’m not sure if I want to know you’re posing for nudes in our bathroom.”

Jaemin laughs, “C’mon, Mark. You don’t have to have such a big reaction, just say you want me to send it to you too.” Mark shakes his head aggressively and you’re suffocating at the thought that you walked in on Jaemin taking a nude. A swirl of nasty thoughts circle your mind and you gulp at the desires that fill your lungs.

You get up so suddenly that Jaemin and Mark fall silent and wait for your next move. “I’m going home.” You announce, gaze stuck to the ground and fists balled at your side. “I’ll see you later, Mark.” 

“Alright, do you need a ride–”

“No, I’ll just walk. I need to take a breather.” Your legs are moving before anyone can follow after you. You didn’t know what came over you, but spending another second in that room with them meant increasing your chances of saying something regrettable.

The cold breeze of the night cools your hot skin and fresh air clears your mind. It is still early in the evening when you check the time, but it is realistically going to take you 30 minutes to walk back home. You didn’t think it through, frankly, but at least your head is clear from all the dirty thoughts about Jaemin.

Though, you wonder how whoever receives his photo would react. Would they combust the same way you did? Would they be left speechless at such a glorious man? Special eyes. It must be nice to have Jaemin interested in you. 

When you’re left with your own reflection and about a quarter into your walk, a car pulls up slowly next to you on the curb. Initially, you’re cautious as to the random vehicle approaching you so intently. 

However, the driver’s window rolls down and Jaemin calls your name. “It’s dangerous for you to walk. I’ll take you home.”

That annoying, rhythmic sound of your heart starts up again. Normally, Mark is the one who drives you to and back, but even you didn’t think you could stand being in the car with him as he would endlessly tease you about Jaemin. 

“That’s alright. I’m almost there-”

Jaemin gets out of the car and walks around to open the passenger door for you, “it wasn’t a polite offer. I’m taking you home.” His stern tone causes you to comply and enter his car without another attempt to protest.

When he enters the car, the tension in the atmosphere is heavy and thick. He turns off the engine and you can hear the quietness of the night again. You swallow the spit pooling at the back of your throat, unsure how to talk to him. This is the first time you two have been alone together, just you and him in one confined space. You’re usually with Mark when you’re with the other guys.

“I’m actually really sorry, again. I hope you don’t feel weird about seeing me like that.” Your heart crumbles at the genuinity in his apology. Your abrupt leave probably had him thinking he made you feel uncomfortable.

“Jaemin, it’s fine. I already forgot what you looked like and it’s your house. You should feel comfortable doing what you want there.” You’re downplaying all the emotions rising in your throat, but you can’t help feeling guilty at the pout on his glossy lips.

“Mark said that you’re not used to stuff like that. Is that true? Did I make you feel uncomfortable?” Jaemin looks over at you, a hand resting over the wheel. 

You look away, his sultry stare being too much for you to handle. “Mark doesn’t know anything about what I’m used to. I don’t talk about that stuff with him.” 

It’s the truth. You’ve had your fair share of hook ups, drunk makeout sessions at the club, and a previous relationship. So, you wouldn’t say you’re as innocent as Mark always tries to make you out to be to others. However, you’re not throwing yourself at just anyone and aren’t as open to sharing your experiences to people, Mark being one. 

Jaemin nods, acknowledging everything you’re saying. “I noticed you’re usually quiet when all of us talk about our sexual experiences.” 

“You are too, though.” You mumble under your breath, twiddling your thumbs.

“I’m too distracted watching how shy you get at the mention of Haechan getting head.” This statement, paired with his deep voice, is glass shattering. Something drops in your stomach, your feelings and thoughts colliding together into something unidentifiable.

Jaemin looks so good under the streetlamp. Even in the darkness, you can still see the twinkle in his alluring gaze and how much charm he exudes with a simple toothy smile. The desire to kiss him is so magnetic, you can feel yourself breaking at any moment.

“You notice me?” Your brain has lost control over the words that spill from your lips. Your lustful and romantic feelings go into overdrive, saying things you’ve never dared to say.

It is his turn to send you a confused look, as if it is the most ridiculous question you could have asked. “Of course I do. It’s hard not to. You… have such an effect on me. I talk about it all the time to Jeno and Haechan.” 

This is shocking news to you. You’ve always been under the impression that the other three had no interest or a second thought about you, let alone Jaemin of all people. At the end of the day, you’re just Mark’s best friend and you’re only really there because of him. His housemates are respectful and don’t linger for too long when you’re around, so it never occurred to you that would be a topic in their conversations.

You stutter and approach slowly, “what do you talk about?” 

Jaemin chuckles, shaking his head and starts the car. “Can’t tell you. Just know that I like it when you’re around.” He starts driving you home and you can feel the conversation fleeting. But you don’t want to stop, you want to peel him layer by layer until he is at his core. 

You two drive for some time in silence. When he approaches your neighborhood, he hits you with one sudden question. “Do you have feelings for Mark?” This is the one of many times he has surprised you tonight.

���No!” You refute excessively. “We’re strictly friends. He is nowhere near my type.” It is a question you get pretty often, given that you two are attached at the hip. Nonetheless, the thought of you and Mark together romantically makes you gag. He is nearly your brother at this point. 

Jaemin raises a curious brow, “what is your type?” 

He pulls into your driveway and you’re presented with a window of opportunity. You dance with the possibility that Jaemin could actually be yours. After tonight, he definitely confirmed that he notices you. 

Jaemin peers over with innocent eyes and a soft smile. His elbow rests on the middle console and his large hands hold the bottom of the steering wheel. And you can’t believe that after all this time, he has been looking at you with such an endearing gaze. Gathering all the courage you have left, you clear your throat. 

“Guys like you.” You say, rather breathlessly. You see his pupils dilate and his lips part at the sudden flirtatious confidence. It’s like a lightbulb switches on inside his head. For once, you have left him speechless. “Goodnight, Jaemin. Thank you for bringing me home.” 

You exit his car, but he is quick to follow. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t walk you to your door.” You almost make out the slight shakiness in his voice and you’re giggling at how dazed you’ve gotten him.

Approaching your door, Jaemin turns your cheek to face him. His hand remains hot against your jaw and you think in any second, he might lean down and kiss you. He’d kiss you to the point where you’d turn to goo right at his feet. 

Your knees grow weak under his hooded stare, “goodnight (y/n). I’ll let Mark know that I got you back safe and sound.” With that, his hand drops and he starts taking a few steps backwards toward his car. Disappointment is evident in your reaction.

Your shaky hands unlock the front door and you look back to see Jaemin leaning against his car waiting patiently for you to enter. When you get inside, your back slides down against the door, heart beating fast, and you wallow in the emptiness that Jaemin has left you with. 

The only noise filling the air is the sound of his car pulling out of the driveway. Then, your phone buzzes in your pocket and the notification causes your jaw to drop. 

Na Jaemin (Mark’s Housemate): 1 Attachment

“Holy shit.” Jaemin’s nude flashes back at you and you’re taking everything in. The events earlier today come flooding back into your memory. Lustful desires cause your stomach to stir, tracing the lines of his collarbones and following the protruding vein on his shoulder.  

Na Jaemin (Mark’s Housemate): for your special eyes xx

Na Jaemin (Mark’s Housemate): still have no interest in me?

Blinking at the thread of texts, your head is empty and a lump forms in your throat. Na Jaemin, the man that you are. 

mark lee-ave me alone: Party tonight, you coming????

mark lee-ave me alone: It’s been like almost two weeks since we hung out, do i need to file a missing person’s report? 

you: i’ve got finals 

mark lee-ave me alone: you finished finals we literally share calendar schedules… why u avoiding me

you: why are you guys alcoholics 

mark lee-ave me alone: sounds good ! see u tn hehe

Tossing your phone onto your bed, you groan into your pillow. It has been a while since you went over, let alone seen Mark. After the moment you had with Jaemin, you aren’t entirely sure if you’re ready to face him again. You had nearly fainted from all the emotions he put you through that day. 

He also didn’t reply to your text, but then again, you didn’t give him much to work with. This is Na Jaemin you’re talking to and the last thing you want to do is to scare him away. So, the best response you came up with was the blushing emoji and embarrassment hit you all over again.

Nonetheless, you went back to that photo every night since and its effects remain the same every time. Widened eyes, hot cheeks, butterflies in your lower abdomen, wild thoughts. It has gotten to the point where your phone suggested making it his contact picture, causing the bashfulness to catch up to you.

Your phone buzzes again and you’re rolling over to expect another text from Mark. Instead, your heart rubs at your chest at the appearance of Jaemin’s name on your screen.

Na Jaemin (Mark’s Housemate): can’t wait to see you tn

Mark must’ve told them about you coming to the party. All it takes is one simple text and your feet are kicking in the air. Excitement replaces the dread that you were feeling before and you’re jumping out of bed to find a cute outfit.

When you finally get to the house, a mixture of nervousness and anticipation bubbles inside of you. While you’ve looked forward to seeing Jaemin before, this time is completely different. He unlocked something that you can no longer control. 

Mark lets you in, slightly buzzed, and the house is already packed with drunk people. Haechan is on aux as per usual with his perfectly curated party playlist. Jeno has a large bottle in his hand, pouring a line of shots on the kitchen island like a skilled bartender. 

You’re unconsciously scanning the room for Jaemin, Mark’s words going in one ear and out the other. “It’s quite a turnout. We didn’t expect so many people would show!”

When you take a quick look around, many are unfamiliar faces. Most of these had to be friends of his housemates, knowing how small Mark keeps his circle. 

“What is this party even for?” Yelling over the loud music, you swear there will be ringing in your ears tomorrow morning.

“We’re celebrating the end of the semester!” Mark cheers, excitedly with a big goofy grin. “The guys mostly wanted an excuse to get their friends together and have some fun.”

“That’s surprisingly more wholesome than I thought.” You nod, noting the pretty girls moving their hips in the dark and crowds of guys surrounding the keg. “Very fun.” You say sarcastically and follow Mark through the maze of hot bodies.

The kitchen is unrecognizable. Half empty glass pitchers and plastic cups line the sticky marble counters, they were definitely not getting their rent deposit back with all the tarnish.

It wasn’t your first time at one of their parties, but it had been a long time since they’ve thrown something of this scale. It surprised you, mostly because everyone who lived here seemed so laid back that you didn’t expect the large magnitude that they could draw in.

“Did you want something to drink?” Mark grabs a beer from the fridge, politely squeezing his way through those leaning against the appliances. 

You shake your head, “not right now.” He lifts a curious brow at your bottom lip between your teeth. Could he tell you were anxiously waiting for someone? 

“So, where have you been lately?” Your mind is extremely overstimulated with everything happening around you, and of course, Mark decides to have an open conversation in the middle of his densely packed kitchen area.

Shrugging, you play it off like everything is normal. “Needed a break from you. You bitched about me coming over all the time, so I chilled out.”

Mark takes a swig, clearly not believing you. “That’s the real reason why? There isn’t anything else regarding someone who lives here?”

He is prying, digging, scheming. You can see it in his smug face when he knows he hit a soft spot. “Do you want to tell me? Because it seems like there’s something going on that you won’t tell me.”

“It’s just interesting.” He shrugs, “Jaemin insisted on going after you the night you walked out. Care to tell me what happened?” Mark giggles to himself like a high school girl sharing secrets. Rolling your eyes, the twitch of your lips curve into a small grin. 

“Is that so out of his character?” You cross your arms, “Jaemin has always been a gentleman unlike you, who let me walk home in the dark when you know it takes me 30 minutes.” 

Your best friend throws his hands up in defense, “I was going to go! Like I said, Jaemin beat me to it. He just grabbed his keys off the hook and told me he got it.” 

“After you told him I felt uncomfortable?” Anger rises in your voice. Quite surely, you sound more offended than you actually are. Nonetheless, that explanation from Mark did irk you a bit when Jaemin had told you.

Mark looks sheepishly at you and takes a timid sip. “Well, didn’t you? Isn’t that why you stormed off?! When have you ever talked about nudes, or having sex for that matter?” 

Scoffing, you couldn’t believe him. Your face gets warm from the spotlight he has you under. It’s complete disbelief that fuels your next line and you shout over the music, “That doesn’t mean I don’t have sex. I have sex!” 

“Who is having sex?” The baritone voice sneaks up from behind you and a hot hand touches the small of your lower back. You seize up at the physical intimacy, turning around to see Jaemin looking as charming as ever. The pure visual of him has hearts in your eyes.

Mark laughs, not noticing how Jaemin snakes his hand around and rests it on your hip. He pulls you a bit closer so that your body leans against his strong arm. “We were just talking about what happened between you two a couple of weeks ago.”

Jaemin nods, as if he understands the situation completely without much context. He looks down at you and smiles sweetly, “did something happen between us?”

He doesn’t break eye contact with you, barely paying attention to Mark, who you’ve also tuned out of this conversation. The quiver in your voice is obvious and Jaemin’s eyes gleam upon hearing your sudden shyness. “No. You just drove me home.” 

“Yeah, you heard it here first.” Jaemin switches to an excited and peppy demeanor, as if all is well and you two aren’t acting extremely suspicious.

Though, Mark is incredibly oblivious so he isn’t hard to fool. He doesn’t press on and gets pulled off to the side by Haechan to fix one of the speakers, leaving you and Jaemin alone among the drunken party goers. Your throat feels like it's closing in on itself, nervousness building your stomach yet again.

Jaemin swiftly turns you to face him fully, both hands holding your arms as he admires how you’ve dressed up tonight. “I’ve always liked this shirt on you. How have you been? I noticed you haven’t come around lately.”

“I’ve been busy.” You’re as quiet as a mouse, but Jaemin hears you loud and clear. You’re extremely conscious of the two of you openly together for everyone to watch or listen in, but Jaemin’s attention is solely on you.

“Busy avoiding me?” The way he asks is lighthearted. He isn’t trying to instigate the way Mark was, it's playful and unserious, even if the question did hold some genuine curiosity.

“I don’t know.” It’s easier for you to be truthful with Jaemin compared to Mark. After that brief chat in his car, you felt like you could be honest with him as he was with you. As if somehow, that one pivotal night changed the dynamic of your nonexistent friendship completely. 

You feel connected to him. Seen by him. “If I did something wrong to make you want to avoid me, you gotta tell me.” Jaemin begins, sincerity heavy in his round eyes and tone. 

However, you stop him from continuing. “There is nothing wrong with what you did. I liked it, alot. I avoided coming because you make me feel nervous and shy.” Perhaps you are revealing too much too soon, but you can’t help it with the way Jaemin looks at you. 

He grins, “you’ve always been nervous and shy around me. Those feelings never stopped you from coming around before.” 

You’re stunned at how observant he actually is. All this time, you thought you did a good job at keeping those feelings internal. Jaemin and you never shared an extensive conversation before that night, but you didn’t completely ignore him whenever he was in the room.

Whenever you two would be physically near each other, you’d strike up small talk about classes and ask how he’s been – even if you had to build up the courage to say something.

You would always greet him back when he would arrive home or if he appeared from upstairs. There would’ve been no way he could’ve seen how your hands fidgeted or hear your voice shake or when you’d avert your gaze. Right?

But he did. He saw through it all. And it hit you that Jaemin had really been observing you this entire time, beyond a simple notice. “Sure, they didn’t before. This time, things feel different between us.”  “I like when you talk about there being an us.” Jaemin beams, “it’s cute. We never got to have that all this time.” He resembles a happy kid on Christmas day, opening a present that he had been good for all year. It’s hopeful and quite touching that he thought about growing closer to you. 

“Do you feel like it’s different between us?” You ask timidly. The feeling of possible rejection lingers in the back of your heart. This could all be a misunderstanding and you read it all wrong. 

He ponders for a bit, eyes darting to the ceiling and then back at you. “Yes, but not entirely. I think you’ve gotten more comfortable opening up to me, but my feelings toward you haven’t changed.”

Hadn’t Jaemin brought it up, you really didn’t know that your heart opened up as much as it did for him. It was all natural, seamless. He didn’t have to speedrun questions like an investigator to get you to talk, everything just flowed. The second part of his answer did prompt more curiosity rather than something definitive.

How does he feel about you?

As you debated a follow up question, the two of you get interrupted by a small group of people pulling at Jaemin’s shoulder. He is brought back to the swarm of a party and you’re retreating into the background. “Na Jaemin! We’ve been looking everywhere for you.” 

Before he could excuse himself, they whisk him away deep into the dark sea of dancing individuals. Sighing, you’re left with the same emptiness you felt two weeks ago. Mark comes stumbling back, the beer in his hand now nearly finished.

“Are you drunk off of a Bud Light?” You snicker at your friend’s wobbly entrance. Your heart is heavy in your chest, but you let these emotions subside. 

He takes a final drink, “I’m just feeling a little loose. I think it’s finally time you get some.” 

You give in, especially now that Jaemin has reeled you in and left you without any clarity. You need a drink to calm all the nerves that he lit up, ease all the pent up tension he created. 

“Only if it’s not what you’re having.” Mark’s head swishes heavily on his shoulders, peering around to find the man with the alcohol supply. He gestures to Jeno from the opposite side of the room for two shots and you laugh at their silly roleplay.

Jeno walks over and greets you with a smile, realizing he didn’t see you come in this whole time. He pours a dangerous amount of Vodka that overflows out of the small glass. 

“Dude! You suck as a bartender, you’re fired!” Mark giggles drunkenly at Jeno’s heavy hand and clinks the shot glasses. “Best friend shots!” He squeals happily at you.

You oblige, holding your breath for the intake of alcohol. Wincing at the taste, you down the shot as best as you can. It’s dreadful, but somehow your muscles relax and your mind clears from the running thoughts of Jaemin. 

“Another one!” Jeno cheers. This time, he prepares three shots and joins in on the random celebratory atmosphere that Mark established. 

The responsible side is signaling alarm bells to slow down, but the side intoxicated with disruptive feelings of Jaemin is silencing them all. So you think, one more shot won’t hurt.

You’re unsure of how much time has passed. Twenty minutes? An hour? Maybe even two hours. It feels late and early all at the same time. At this point, you’re experiencing a good buzz after the last few rounds of shots with Jeno and Mark.

The liquid courage has you asking for Jaemin’s whereabouts. 

“I think he’s upstairs in the bathroom with someone.” Mark slurs his words, clearly not knowing the magnitude of this information. Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach, a ton of bricks hitting you. You’ve tuned out the booming music and Mark’s words play on a loop.

“When did you see him go up with someone?” You ask again, not wanting to believe Mark’s words. Could it have been one of the people from the group that stole him away? An old fling. A friend with benefits. An ex-lover. An admirer. The list unravels itself like a never ending scroll. 

He shrugs, it’s obvious this man has no actual idea what is going on or how much it's affecting you. “Check for yourself.” The edge of sass in his tone has you feeling challenged. Mark always gets a bit snarky and direct whenever he’s intoxicated.

You’re going back and forth with yourself – stay or find him. If you see him making out with someone else, then what? It would actually hurt you and you only have your own blossoming feelings to blame. If he is alone, then what? Will he finally tell you how he feels about you? Will he finally kiss you? The desire for that is enough drive for you.

And so you go. 

Heading up the stairs, the mess of the party downstairs fades into the background. Your palms grow sweaty as you walk down the long hallway toward the looming bathroom. Light flows through the bottom crack of the door. Not knowing what to expect, you’re just hoping what Mark said isn’t true. 

Your hand holds onto the shiny knob, hesitant to get your ego bruised at the sight of Jaemin with another person. Taking a deep breath, you open the door.

Jaemin is in the midst of zipping up his jeans, the belt around his waist unbuckled. However, he is alone and oddly enough, the sound of the running toilet brings an ounce of reassurance for you. He looks up and your grip relaxes on the knob. 

Upon seeing your figure, Jaemin shakes his head with a sneaky smirk. He goes about washing his hands as normal and says, “we really need to stop meeting like this.”

“Maybe you should try locking the door for once.” 

“I do. Somehow, it’s always unlocked when you’re around.” He sounds so innocent lying through his teeth. Jaemin wipes his hands on the hand towel and leans against the door frame, “now are you actually going to use the bathroom or did you know I’d be here waiting for you?”

Your mouth opens to speak, but no words form. Jaemin’s gaze eats you up again, taking in your attire and dolled up look once more. His playful smile disappears and is replaced with a thin line, his jaw tightening. “So pretty.” His low voice whispers, eyes never leaving your lips. 

Right then and there, the want to kiss him surges throughout your body. There is nothing stopping you from diving into Jaemin, letting him have you utterly and completely. No consequences filter through your head, no other thoughts besides what his lips taste like. It could be the alcohol, but you’re fully drunk off his sultry stare and his feathering touches on your wrist. 

He leans in toward you, head tilting as he inches closer to your face. Closing your eyes, you await the kiss you’ve longed for. Blood pumping in your veins and heart doing somersaults in your chest. 

“Did you drink?” You quickly open your eyes at his question and see Jaemin pulling back. The familiar feeling of disappointment floods your body too well. 

“I took a few shots.” You’re biting the inside of your cheek, trying to not look embarrassed at how badly you wanted him to kiss you. The smell of alcohol is still hot on your breath and you’re even surprised at how composed you’ve managed to be. 

“Sweetheart, I don’t want to kiss you like this.” Jaemin’s tone is sweet, but firm. Although you were nowhere near black out drunk, you understood his sentiments. He wanted to kiss you without any chance of regret. He wants to do it right. 

“I blame Mark for this.” A heavy sigh falls at the end of your sentence. You roll your eyes at the sound of Mark’s voice from downstairs. Regardless of your disappointment, your heart is still burning at how he called you sweetheart. You didn’t know how good it would sound until it left his mouth. 

In a blink of an eye, he quickly kisses your cheek. “That will have to do for now.” Jaemin smiles, wide and toothy.

You don’t have enough time to process, still stuck at the small pet name, as he whisks you back down to join everyone at the party. Your eyes widen, cheeks grow hot, butterflies grow in your lower abdomen, and wild thoughts swirl in your head. All of which didn’t need Jaemin’s nude for these effects to arise. 

“You know, Jaemin has started asking about you a lot.” Mark looks up from his laptop, taking a break from his strenuous essay. It had been a week after the party and everything fell right back into routine. You’d show up to their house as if you never stopped coming around. 

The only difference is that you’re not here to see Mark anymore. You’re here for Jaemin. As clingy and corny as that seemed, you left every day happy that you got to talk to him. The two of you had been texting since the night of the party, mostly brief conversations about your day, but he never forgets to wish you a good morning. 

Whenever you’re at the house, Jaemin would join you and Mark when he’d come home. Initially, Mark didn’t seem to notice that his housemate would linger for as long as you’d be here or that Jaemin would purposefully sit close to you, or those longing stares you two would share across the table. 

It wasn’t until you were drinking water and Jaemin had casually asked for a sip. Then, it clicked. Mark jumped, he pointed fingers, he accused. All of which, you two blinked innocently at him in confusion, Jaemin’s bottom lip touching the rim of your bottle. 

Jaemin and you denied everything Mark tried to throw at you two, given that in all actuality, you two are only getting to know each other. He still hasn’t kissed you on the lips. He still hasn’t really spent time with you alone again, though you are incredibly nervous at that potential idea coming to fruition. 

After the night of the party, you’ve been wondering and waiting for his move. It did bother you the first few days, but his sweet texts always had a grin growing on your face. Jaemin played a very long game. 

“Really? Like what?” You try to hide your undying curiosity. Not looking up from your screen, you pretend to browse through empty tabs to seem like you are too busy to care. But deep down, it has been eating away at you wondering how Jaemin feels.

Mark smirks, “tell me what has been going on between you two and then I’ll tell you.” 

Scoffing, you roll your eyes at his deal. “That just sounds like you’re making shit up.” 

“So there is something going on between you two!” His voice grows louder, a bit more accusatorial. His eyes narrow, “you know I expected secrets from him, but not from you! You��re my best friend.” Mark’s sad pout tugs at your heartstrings.

A sigh escapes your lips and you give him your full attention. It didn’t feel good having to keep things from him, but you thought to wait until something actually happened before saying anything. Nonetheless, since you can’t stand seeing your best friend sad, you decide to just come clean from the beginning. 

“He sent you that nude!?” Mark gasps as you reveal the night Jaemin drove you home. The more you talk about your encounters with Jaemin and your thought process, the more you realize how much you like him. Beyond attraction, beyond his chivalry. A flower has grown from the seed he watered.  

“No wonder why there is this weird tension whenever we’re all together. It’s because you two are literally eye fucking each other across the room.” Mark grumbles, but he lets you finish telling your piece. From the nude to the conversation in the kitchen to the kiss on the cheek. He now knows everything you’ve experienced and how you’re wrapped around Jaemin’s finger.

A part of you prepares for the teasing and the gross kissing noises, but your best friend just nods silently. His stare is blank, like he is trying to process the everything and nothing you’ve been through. Growing nervous, you shift uncomfortably on the couch. 

“Jaemin asked me about your favorite things. He told me that it’s something that would come in handy one day.” Mark clears his throat and can barely look you in the eye, almost embarrassed to share such an intimate question his friend asked about you. “He also asked if I had feelings for you.”

Your jaw drops, heart falling to the pit of your stomach. This is unexplored terrain – the two of you never touched on the topic of potentially becoming romantic. It had always just felt mutually platonic. Sitting up quickly, you lean closer toward him.

He sends a weird stare at your sudden attentive figure. “I don’t, first of all, don’t get too excited here.” 

The anticipation leaves your system, falling back against the cushion and going back to your homework. “I thought you were going to reveal some crazy backstory with the way you’re acting.”

Mark laughs, mockingly. “We’re nearly siblings. I’ve seen every bad part of you, your charm doesn’t work on me.” 

“Well, the feeling is mutual!” You ruffle his hair, messing it up between your fingers as he tries to push you off. A fit of giggles fill the room that the two of you don’t hear the front door open.

When the door shuts, you glance over to see Jaemin stripping his shirt. Cursing under your breath, your eyes remain stuck on all his bare skin. His whole chest and abs glisten with droplets of sweat, veins popping from whatever pump he got from the gym. His track pants hang low, the waistband of his briefs peeking through. 

Mark laughs at how you’re practically frozen over Jaemin. Jaemin looks your way and his familiar, sweet smile greets you. “Hey cutie, did you finish your project?” 

He walks over, his shirt thrown over his broad shoulders. Heat travels across your cheeks, you swear the temperature in the room went up several degrees. You’re batting your eyelashes, but averting any attention from his defined figure as he closes the space between you two. 

Jaemin’s heart swells at the sight of your shy antics. He can’t imagine anyone as cute as you, so reactive to every little thing he does. He doesn’t even see Mark in the room, all he wants to pay attention to is you. 

“Almost. Mark has been distracting.” Maybe your voice naturally gets airy around him, Jaemin just makes you want to twirl your hair and smile all the time. He takes a seat on the armrest next to you. As he crosses his arms, his biceps make their appearance once again – all voluptuous and strong. 

“Oh? How so?” He cocks a curious brow, finally taking a glance over at his housemate. Mark snickers at how differently you react to Jaemin’s casual demeanor. For all he has known, this is how Jaemin is. He’ll walk around shirtless, even pants less, as if it is any normal day. But since Mark kindly warns him that you’re going to be coming around, he complies. 

Now, Jaemin just wants to drive you into delirium.

Your mind is absolutely wiped, there is nothing more distracting than a half naked Jaemin – this you knew too well. As you tremble over your words, Mark saves the day by falsely admitting how he’s been trying to chat with you so he didn’t have to do his essay. 

“Ah, chatterbox. I’m jealous.” Jaemin gets up and spins on his heel, heading toward the stairs. Your body unknowingly leans toward his fleeting figure, a pout tugging at the corner of your lips.

Jaemin’s finger taps along the railing, drawing a trail as he walks up each step. “I wish I got to distract you from your project, talk to you for hours.” 

You’re freaking out internally, trying to decipher if he had just spit out an innuendo or if he genuinely meant it. You fight the urge to completely yell at the top of your lungs how much you’d love him to. Mark also bites back the scream that threatens to escape, not believing what he is a witness to. 

“You can!” Your chirpy, forced tone nearly cracks from your nervousness. “Join us after your shower.” Even if you wanted him alone, you’re willing to settle for moments with Mark in them.

“I’ll come, don’t worry.” No flirtation, no smug smirks, Jaemin gently reassures you that he’ll come back for you. And while the heavy tension in the air dissipates, you’re finding your heart to throb at his thoughtfulness. 

“Dude, you’re so whipped for him.” Mark giggles and you’re throwing a decorative pillow at his chest, very much embarrassed. “I should let you guys be alone, would you want that?”

The second Mark proposes his question, your heart shakes at the possibility of Jaemin and you finally alone again for an extended period of time. It is a nerve wrecking thought, you can feel your pulse racing. Not that you had avoided such a potential situation, but you didn’t really think you would get the chance to. Now that your good friend knows everything, he has the power to help you out. 

“I do.” You’re admitting so much of your vulnerability that Mark actually softens at your tiny request. He nods and packs up his things without any hesitation. “But where are you going to go?” You didn’t want to seem like you were kicking out your friend from his own house.

He brushes off your guilty tone, “don’t worry. There’s a study session happening in 15 minutes for one of my classes.” With that, he slings his backpack over his shoulder and takes a moment to look at you. His facial expression is hard to decipher. 

You stand and he holds your shoulders, “no more secrets.” Mark says with glossy eyes and a small smile. “And use protection.” He laughs, breaking the almost sweet and serious moment you two rarely share. You push him off and roll your eyes, though secretly grateful that you have Mark in your life.

It’s agonizing as you wait for Jaemin to come out of the shower, being completely alone with your hypotheticals and expectations eating away at you. There’s no way you have the capacity right now to focus on your project and homework. Jaemin just consumed every bit of you.

When he finally walks down the stairs, fully clothed and hair freshly blow dried, you pretend again that you’re too busy to notice. He heads toward the kitchen to open a can of Diet Pepsi and makes his way back. Jaemin snuggles up next to you, arm draped around the back of your side of the couch and you’re drowning in the scent of his body wash.

“Mark left?” He sips, his Adam’s apple bobbing and his jaw tightening with each gulp. You’re lost in his seeping aura, wondering how the fuck he looks so good doing something so simple. 

Clearing your throat, you place your laptop on the coffee table and face up at him. He meets your starry eyes and it takes so much in you to not break away. “Study session.” 

Jaemin nods knowingly, leaning forward to also neatly set down his can. Almost immediately, the atmosphere in the room shifts from light hearted to heavy sensual tension. Not that either one of you expected anything to happen, but just being in each other’s presence is suffocating and intoxicating all at once.

Now that you’re finally alone with him, you can’t help all the nerves and flips in your stomach from happening. “I kept you waiting then.” His voice is raspy, causing it to sound deeper than normal. 

Shaking your head, you say the first thing your heart thinks of. “I’m always willing to wait for you.” Jaemin lifts an eyebrow at your statement, noting the shock in your face as soon as it filled the air. His arm snakes around your waist, pulling you onto his lap and you’re maneuvering your legs to straddle him. 

This intimate position has your heart springing out of your chest, thumping so aggressively that you swear he can feel it against his own. His hands are politely placed on your back and he peers up at you with a sultry stare. You’re holding your breath and unsure where to place your hands, losing your wits already at how things have escalated. 

“Is this alright with you? Am I doing too much?” He cautiously asks, ready to set you back down to where he had selfishly pulled you from. 

“This,” Scrambling, tripping, cat’s got your tongue! Jaemin doesn’t realize how your mind has been lit with flames all from this one swift movement. “This is fine. I like this.”

He smirks, “you like being on top of me?” When he asks such a nasty question, you’re too bashful to play along. Jaemin chuckles, “you’re driving me crazy right now.” 

You are? It’s quite unbelievable that any of this has an effect on him. Perhaps he is better at holding back his reactive facial expressions, but Jaemin seems so laid back and unphased. “Me? I’ve barely said more than a few sentences.” 

“It’s not about the quantity, you can say anything to me and I’d be smitten for you.” Jaemin taps your nose, in a loving and endearing way. You’re getting a side of him you’ve never really seen before – this head over heels, heart eyed fool. A part of you craves more of this, feeling special at how he only has eyes for you.

The other part is shocked that you’re even experiencing any of this, how did you get so lucky?

“Jaem, are you going to finally tell me how you feel about me?” When you say his name, his nonchalant attitude almost falters. His ears perk up, eyes alert and a tighter grip on the hem of your shirt. “How did we get here?” 

He purses his lips, contemplating long and hard about how he should go about explaining himself. Your voice is more stern, he can tell you’ve been wanting to get an answer to this for a while.

“I like you.” Jaemin says it so easily, those words roll off of his tongue effortlessly that it surprises himself.

“Since when?” You don’t mean to sound so interrogative, but all this time, this didn’t make any sense to you. Maybe your own lovey eyes blinded you from seeing his feelings or that your own self esteem halted you from believing someone like him could like you back. Nevertheless, this all came about so suddenly for you.

A small smile grows on his face as he thinks back to the first time he saw you. Your timid introduction and you glued to Mark’s side, but none of that could take away from how pretty you looked.

And when he first heard you laugh, like really laugh, he swore he needed to hear it again, and again, and again. Sooner or later, he found your shyness irresistibly adorable and he only wanted to interact with you more, but was unsure about your relationship with Mark.

Ultimately, Jaemin decided to keep his distance because you and Mark seemed more than close. However, the more he pulled away, the more you filled his empty thoughts and daydreams.

Whenever you came around, he found himself happier just upon seeing you for a brief second and hearing your silly anecdotes to Mark all the way from his room. If all you two had exchanged was a small greeting, Jaemin would be satisfied. 

Until the night you stayed for one of their drunk kickbacks, and something inside of him unlocked. A new sense of desire? The introduction of lust and curiosity.

Jaemin noted the way you’d squirm, dig yourself deeper into the cushions, hide your face in your shirt. Your reactions to his friends’ sexual adventures were typical, full of gasps and slight embarrassment, but your eyes were more than telling of your piqued interest. The one thing that he hated was that you never openly shared a single thing, even when asked. 

So, that meant he didn’t either. In a more respectful sense, he normally doesn’t dive into the nitty details as much as his housemates do, but you were such a mysterious person. He wanted to keep himself that way as well, making him as alluring as you were. The art of not knowing, just makes you want to know more. 

And when you would stand up for him against the other boys, that boldness only made you more attractive. Maybe you didn’t want to know about his personal endeavors, regardless, you respected his privacy and were willing to break out of your shell for him.

What other layers of you has he not seen? That caused him to wonder how much he could push you, what other reactions he could draw out of you, and gauge if you had any interest in him. 

In between your nervous stammers and long stares, Jaemin had some inkling that you might be into him. However, he couldn’t tell if that was just his ego deluding his judgment or if it was the actual truth. 

He had something less drastic in mind than you walking in on him in the bathroom. But, he thought if he waited and hesitated as much as he did before, there would never really be another chance. If you were disinterested, it would’ve been a lighthearted mistake and brief awkwardness. If you were interested, then it opens the door metaphorically as well. 

So in the spur of the moment, as he heard your voice and footsteps down the hallway, he quickly unlocked the door. His heart pounded rapidly in his chest as he tried to keep his phone steady.

Act natural. Be cool. Be confident.

He just hoped you couldn’t see right through his desperate act. And when you opened the door and everything that followed after, it was enough to wash away any doubt he had before. 

After dropping you off, he decided right then and there that he was going to pursue you. 

“Would you believe me if I told you it was since the day I met you?” His voice is soft and quiet. Jaemin brushes a few strands of hair out of your face, gently tucking it behind your ear. “I was looking forward to your presence without realizing it. I’d tell Haechan and Jeno how I was excited to hear your voice, even if it wasn’t speaking to me.” 

He could be such a romantic, though this didn’t come too much of a shock to you. You couldn’t believe that you’d be the recipient of it one day.  “Since the day we met. That feels like ages ago.” Your eyes wander off, trying to regain the distant memory. 

You could barely remember the day Mark introduced you to his housemates. It was such a blurry scene, mostly because you were so painstakingly nervous so you tried to bury it in the depths of your mind. The only thing you remember was the tight grip you had on Mark’s sleeve and Jaemin’s gorgeous smile. 

“Why didn’t you try approaching me? Be my friend, get to know me back then?” You ask, a small edge in your tone. Instead of months of googly, heart eyed stares, you two could’ve been acquainted much earlier. Your relationship would’ve been so far along, milestones would’ve already been hit. A thousand kisses would’ve already been exchanged.

Jaemin is well aware of his lack of action, “I wasn’t sure about you and Mark. I didn’t want to overstep and initially, I couldn’t tell if you even wanted to be around anyone besides him.” Now his questions to both you and Mark made sense.

He wanted to be absolutely certain that there would be no conflict. No room for anyone else. No blurred lines. Jaemin wanted to do it right.

“So, me walking in on you in the bathroom… was that an honest mistake?” As all the dots connected and all the lines matched up, you’re replaying all the moments that led up to this point.

He can see the gears turning in your beautiful head and laughs, “like I said, somehow, it’s always unlocked when you’re around.” 

Rolling your eyes, you settle with your own conclusion that perhaps it was in his plans all along to fluster the fuck out of you. As much as you hate to admit it, it worked. Hook, line and sinker. 

“How do you feel?” Jaemin asks, as his knuckles rub lovingly against your cheek. His big hand slides toward your jawline and he firmly cups your face, a quick flicker from your eyes to your lips. 

Intense. That is how you feel. At any second, you are a volcano ready to erupt. All these pent up emotions – lust, fondness, frustration – burst at your seams. All of which is unbeknownst to Jaemin, despite being the very spark of it.

“I feel like you should kiss me now.” Spoken confidently, Jaemin is shocked at your response. You didn’t have to ask him twice though, as he pulled you into him without missing a beat. 

The kiss is slow and cautious, like he is holding back from doing too much, taking too much. He guides your hands onto his collarbones and across his toned chest. Underneath his thin shirt, you feel how strong and defined he is. You’re hesitant at first, unaware of how much you could feel.

Jaemin could sense it, pausing in between your small kisses to take off his shirt. You’re wide eyed, fully shocked at his chiseled body right in front of you. It’s just like how you remembered from his photo, except now it’s not through a tiny phone screen. All on display, Jaemin takes your shaky hands and places them delicately on his broad shoulders.

“Touch me.” It’s all he has to say until your lips are connected again. His hot skin against your fingertips as you’re dragging them down his biceps, moving along all of his exposed terrain. 

Adrenaline fills your system and you can’t even begin to stop all the lustful and romantic feelings that bubble across your chest. So, you fervently kiss him back to signal just how much you want it, how much you wish to be kissed by him.

Jaemin loses it between your sweet touches and your eagerness, both hands now holding your face steady for him to deepen the kiss. The feverish glide of his lips on yours is something unforgettable. It’s inimitable, a passion that solely exists for the two of you. Kissing Jaemin is blissful, like nothing matters more than being here lips locked and hands on his bare chest.

Kissing Jaemin also ruined you. Moving forward, you’ll crave this feeling forever. How are you supposed to kiss anyone else in this world now? How will you ever want to kiss anyone else knowing you’ve experienced this?

You two make out until condensation forms on the outside of his Diet Pepsi can. There is a lingering taste of the soda on his tongue; a taste you once hated so much is now something you can’t get enough of. 

When you’re both finally pulling away, your lips are puffy and Jaemin is catching his breath. He could feel his heart bursting at the sight of your disheveled hair and pouty lips. You’re the prettiest baby he’s ever seen.

He’s staring at you with tiny stars in his eyes, ones that reflect your own. And he breaks the silence, “now we can finally tell Mark we kissed.” A sweet, kind smile appears at the end of his sentence. 

You’re laughing, and Jaemin’s heart flutters knowing he is the reason behind that melodic sound he loves hearing so much. 

“Mark is going to love hearing about this.”