#Its so sweet it tugs at my heart strings

[moonilit]

something I really appreciate about seven is its constant subversion of expectations, it lay down the fundamentals of a well known trope then flip it at its head. Its really incredibly simple story telling that keep the player engaged, simple trick but effective lol

Cloud is this well trained will hounded Ex- SOLDIER, old best buddy with Sephiroth the war hero- Except he is not

Aerith is the last living Cetra, steward of the planet- except she knows nothing about being one and more concerned about her love life and fun

Cloud and Aerith fit the knight and princess trope to be the game romance- Except they are not

The Cetra are the stewards of the planet, they made materia and can talk with the planet itself, they must been benevolent and wise- Except the were intolerant and selfish, they had their ears everywhere

Heck even Sephiroth and us fall into one of these twists, JENOVA is sephiroth mother, she tells him so, she is an Cetra too- Except she is not

and so one like its really a simple trick, tell you/ show you something they know you will assume things out of then twist it and its like fun little trick while writing, fitting for a story that targets teens too

[moonlight-prose]

a request, if i may, of praising old man logan as he filfthly eats you out and it makes him combust the more you praise him? okay running away again

speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life

a/n: look at him taking off his glasses in absolute shock of this ask- no okay does old man logan have a praise kink? i would raise it higher and say every version of logan has a massive praise kink. this is a man who wants to know he's doing good in life. his love language is acts of service so he might get to hear a pretty thank you. also i'm not sorry for how feral this got. i have no explanation.

summary: he knew he loved you when your words begin to piece his heart back together. he knew he loved you when he flourishes at your praise. he knew he loved you when nothing in this world could matter but the sound of your voice telling him you love him too.

word count: 3k+

pairing: old man!logan x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, oral (f receiving), praise kink, logan is obsessed, dirty talk via reader, he is so pretty when he blushes, manhandling, cumplay, cumeating, overstimulation, crying, he's needy in this one, angst, tortured soul of an old man, reverence, religious trauma + greek mythology hints.

He can feel the strings of fate pull tight around his broken heart. In a failed attempt to draw him back together. To piece together an organ that barely beat for him anymore. He might have felt it once, before it broke. Before it gnarled itself like the branches of a dying tree, one half twisting away from the other in a desperate attempt of survival.

He deemed it a useless part of his body until you came along. You with your smile that held enough cloying sweetness to choke him as he stood helpless. Silently begging for you to say his name. To bring him back to life.

Whatever horrors that plagued his mind—endless nightmares that promised nothing but anguish—suddenly came crashing to a halt at the sight of you. So pretty in your denim jeans and velvet top. An angel seated in the center of a bar that held more filth than you deserved to be near. Logan couldn’t fathom that luck struck him this hard.

Not when death had already claimed his soul; notched yet another tally in the endless wall of people that came before.

He felt the dirt pack under his nails as he clawed his way out of the grave he put himself in. Years spent alone—a man lost to the ravages of time—had turned him bitter. With rough edges and biting words that stung far more than he intended. How could he believe he deserved to live after he contributed so much to the endless pool of blood that tainted his soul? How was he allowed such softness after biting off bits of brutality his whole life?

Logan was pretty sure he survived on borrowed time that had already run out. He could feel death breathe down his neck as the days went on. A reminder that what little of his life remained would be spent suffering. And he found that accepting it was easier than battling against the will of God, or whoever toyed with his lifeline.

It was far easier to die than find a reason to live.

Until you said his name.

Softly. Sweetly. Reverence wrapped in a tight grasp of need.

You brought him back from the edge—took his hand and refused to take no for an answer. You and the safety of your touch; the promise in your kiss. You dragged him into a life he didn’t earn; one that almost tasted too sweet—too sour.

After near a decade of being buried beneath the dirt, he felt himself collapse above ground and suck in his first real gasp of fresh air. Alive, once more. Hell spit him out with a vow of love and who was he to argue against it.

His fingers dug into your plush thighs, tugging them open to see what lay between. He marveled at their softness, eyes wide and awestruck at the sight of you spread beneath him. You practically glowed in the dim light of the bedside table. Yellow, musty, yet angelic when it caressed your body with its heavenly touch.

He wondered if this was real life; your nails digging sharply into his shoulders gave him the answer.

"Logan," you sighed, voice high with need.

The strings pulled taught. A vice like hold that drew him to you.

Maybe that's what this unutterable feeling was. The gnawing pit at the bottom of his heart. A greed he'd never indulged before—too afraid of what it might ask for next. He wasn't a man who asked for much. Rather someone that found himself far too content with nothing. But tonight he found his lips forming the words of a false prayer that his mother taught him as a child.

Hail the angel in his bed. Hail every good fucking thing you brought into his life.

His teeth sunk into your thigh, body jolting at your responding moan. Fingers dug into his hair, tugging at the mussed locks with a high pitched whine. You were a needy little thing, but Logan found he desperately wanted to be needed.

He smiled laving his tongue over the tender spot, working his way up to where you dripped for him.

So slick. So perfect.

Saliva filled his mouth. "What do ya want baby?"

Your chest heaved; he could feel the heat of your body under his palms. "Your m-mouth Logan."

His eyes trailed along your brow covered in a sheen of sweat. The room was thick with the humid air of the outside world. But that didn't deter him from craving your skin near his. The pressure of your thighs around his head a welcome weight. If he sunk his teeth in where the curve of your leg met your hip he knew he could draw out that soft choking noise he longed to hear on days spent driving alone.

If he had his way he'd crawl into you to seek your serenity straight from the source. He'd never divulge about the ache that chewed him up on the inside, but Logan wondered if you knew. Could you tell how much he craved you? How much he couldn't live without you.

When your glittering eyes met his, the resolve he spent years building cracked like glass. You peered into him as if he was a stained glass window. A god you were more than happy to worship.

"You want me to lick this pretty pussy?" Fuck, he sounded drunk off your taste already.

His mouth hovered over your throbbing clit, your scent now filling his senses. Overwhelming him with what he wanted most. But he needed to hear it. The lilt of your begging; the soft echo of your need that washed over him like soothing river water.

He couldn't live without it.

"Yes," you sobbed, thigh twitching.

The string sliced his heart open, blood pooling onto the white bed sheets. Oh what a sweet death your love made. Oh...what a bittersweet way to go.

He'd die right now if you asked him to. Hand over his heart on a silver platter if you so wished it. Maybe that made him far too gone for his own good, but Logan couldn't remember a time in his life where he got this. Safety. The hope of love burning far too bright and far too hot for him to fly near it.

Yet there he was. Icarus happily soaring in your sun like glow.

"I got ya honey," he murmured. "Gonna take care of what's mine."

You nodded frantically—tears welling up in your eyes. "You take care of me Logan."

The breath in his chest stuttered, eyes dark as the words fell past your swollen lips. He wanted to explain why his cock twitched against his stomach. Why he now leaked into the sheet with heavy panted breaths. But every time he came up short with the words needed to form an answer.

"Yeah I do sweetheart," he breathed. "Don't I?"

"Uh-huh."

"Take care of what belongs to me."

There was no warning when his hands dragged you closer with a rough tug, mouth closing over your clit with a desperate suck. A cry wrenched from your mouth, sparks sharply traveling down your spine. He licked through your slick with a growl. Hands an unbreakable press against your thighs.

The sight of your body bowed, mouth open for small gasped breaths that never came, snapped something in his mind. He was an old man. Well past his years. But the taste of your pussy along his tongue brought back a ferocity he often tamped down in his younger age. He felt the feral want claw at his chest, and answered it with a broken snarl.

Swallowing down every drop you gave him, he plunged his tongue into your entrance, thrusting messily until a smear of your shiny slick began to coat his mouth. It covered his cheeks and clung to the hair of his beard. He'd clean it out later, taste you on his tongue until he was aching for another go. But for now he was preoccupied with the way you cried for him.

"Oh fuck!" Your thighs trembled over his shoulders, hips canting down to drag yourself along his tongue. "So good."

He shuddered, eyes rolling back at the sound of your praise. You caught it within seconds, lips pulling into a breathless smile that left him gasping for air. His teeth nipped at your thigh briefly as his hips ground into the mattress below.

"You like that baby?" you breathed, thumb smearing your own slick against his cheek.

Something hot washed over his body. A needy sick and twisted ache that he'd never indulged in before. He wanted to be a good man to you; longed to be needed. And fuck if you didn't give him everything.

You were his walking wet dream. His future handed off and wrapped in a neat little bow.

"L-Love your tongue Logan-" A high gasp tore from your throat when he dived back in. Slurping at your clit with a heady moan as you dragged him closer. "Taking care of me so well."

His hips canted down into the bed, fucking his cock along the warmth of his stomach, as you gushed into his mouth again. Eyes zeroed in on your face, pupils dilated as he growled into your flesh. You no longer could see the man you loved, but the feral side he tamped down during the day. The animal he longed to release in your presence.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum."

His arms looped around your thighs and with a sharp yank, he had his face buried deep enough to suffocate himself. You sobbed an incoherent version of his name. Nails clawed at his shoulders, but Logan could feel the pulse of your clit under his tongue.

He sucked it into his mouth with a grunt, rolling it along his tongue as you trembled with the oncoming shocks of an orgasm that threatened to destroy you.

Tears dripped down your cheeks and Logan felt the satisfying part of his heart begin to stitch itself back together. The strings were tight enough to numb his pain. To quell the flare of agony.

That used to be all he knew, all he counted on most days. When there was nothing left and he'd propped the shovel in the dirt—his grave open and waiting—he stumbled right into your arms. He found his reason for living.

Heat curled around his spine as you shook with the impending orgasm—the stimulation on your clit practically debilitating. He grunted into your soaked flesh, eyes narrowed as he chased the release that pulled his stomach taut. But this wasn't for him to indulge in; this wasn't his pleasure.

So with a throaty moan you felt reverberate along your body, he scraped his teeth along your clit and watched as your body went stiff.

"Logan!" you cried, fingers scrambling for purchase on any part of him you could reach.

You gushed into his awaiting mouth, praises of it's so good, you're so good falling upon his ears like the whimpered prayers of a devout worshiper thanking your god.

"Taste so fuckin' good," he mumbled, drunk on what you gave him.

He didn't care that you were jolting with each pass of his tongue along your pussy. He didn't care that you were shocked with overstimulation, small broken cries of his name muffled by the press of your thighs against his ears. He licked at you until he couldn't breathe. Buried his tongue into your twitching entrance and sucked out your cum with a happy hum.

"P-Please." You tugged at his hair, pulling him off you with a sob. "I-I can't anymore Logan."

"'M not fuckin' finished," he said, eyes glazed and face coated in your slick.

You made a mess of his face. The light catching along where you spilled into his mouth and along his throat. And still he wanted more. He'd spend hours between your thighs, burning your skin with his beard, if it meant he could divulge in your sweetness.

"It hurts-"

A grunt rumbled in his chest, his arms tugging you back even as your feet kicked along his back. "Just one more honey. Yeah?"

You shook your head. "B-But-"

"Thought you said it was good."

"It is."

"Then lemme be good for you." He wanted to tell you that the world went quiet between your thighs. That all his grief, all his pain, lessened when you sobbed his name.

He wanted to show you the string that looped his heart to yours—the only thing keeping him alive—and thank you for bringing him back from the dead. But words weren't his forte. Violence had become the only tenderness he knew and you didn't deserve the rough edges of an old man. You should have more.

But when you let him touch you like this—caress your skin and lick between your folds—he felt as if he was a man who finally was worthy of someone as precious as you. He could pretend he didn't bear the brunt of a fucked up soul.

The weight on his chest lifted when your tear filled gaze met his and you nodded. Small, barely there, but it was enough for him to seal his mouth back over you with a ragged moan. Your body shook as his tongue slid through the seam of your pussy. The tip nudging against your clit—careful to draw the pleasure from your body slowly.

He didn't want to give you pain. His heart wouldn't survive that. But he was a broken man; someone who begged for more even as his teeth sunk into what was already given.

You were his meal. His sacrament in the midnight hours until dawn broke across the darkened sky. You were the other half of his soul.

How could he not indulge in your sweetened tang until his tongue went stiff?

"I love you," you sighed, eyes rolled back when he sucked at your pussy, a wet low moan echoing in the air. "My p-perfect husband."

The cold press of his wedding band against your thigh drove him over the edge. You weren't officially married. Didn't have the backyard wedding with a preacher to match. But Logan had placed a ring on your finger near a year ago, sliding one over his own with the vow of forever cemented in his words.

Even if that didn't mean much in the eyes of a god who abandoned him near a century ago.

"Oh-"

Your head tipped back, mouth dropping open as his fingers dipped into your wet heat. Thrusting lazily until he found the spongey patch along your walls—driving the pad of his middle finger into it with a needy moan.

He knew it wouldn't take long for you to fly off the edge of a second release. That didn't make watching you climb to that peak any less satisfying. The sight appeased his soul. It gave him a chance to breathe; let him know that after so much bad—after so much pain—he could do something good. He could bring you to the edge of pleasure and drag you over again and again.

He could finally be the man you believed he was.

Not the animal they created.

"C'mon," he muttered. Eyes fixed on the shape of your breasts as your body curved off the bed. Hips dragging along his face with a stunted cry.

A wail bounced off the walls, piercing his eardrums with the symphony of your cries. His fingers rapidly pumped into you with a squelch that had heat burning his cheeks—lips pulling your throbbing clit into his mouth as you broke. The climax slammed into you; battering your already swollen pussy.

Logan could feel his cock swell at the sight.

"Fuckin' perfect," he grunted, teeth bared as he clambered to his knees and wrapped his fist soaked in your slick around his leaking cock. "'M gonna cum sweetheart."

Your eyes fluttered open, fingers digging into his thigh. "Please. Wanna see it baby. Look so pretty when you cum Logan."

His chest tightened, body shaking while you watched in rapture as he fucked his fist rapidly. He wouldn't fucking last, could feel the burning consume his body, but something held him back. The string around his heart yanked him away from the edge, tearing a cry from his throat when his frustration peaked.

You could see it—the glimmer of need in his dark eyes. This wasn't the first time he longed for your words. It certainly wouldn't be the last.

So you spread your legs and sat up slowly—arms wrapping around his shoulders to bring his lips down to yours. A soft moan was muffled by your mouth; the peak of his release within reach. He could practically feel the tips of his fingers graze it.

"Cover my pussy baby," you mumbled into his mouth. "Be good for me and mark what's yours."

The growl came from the very bottom of his chest when he finally came. Your name was a bitten out snarl pressed to your mouth in an open mouth kiss as he spurted over his knuckles. He pumped his cock to milk every drop; eyes fixed on the way it covered the swollen lips of your pussy. Dripping down to your entrance that fluttered at the sight of his sweaty and crimson tinged face.

"I fuckin' love ya honey," he murmured, hand cupping your chin to drag your lips back to his. "Best thing that's happened in my life is you."

You smiled, thumbs pressing to his cheeks. "Love you too Logan."

Clutching you close, he felt the string go loose. The breath finally rushing back into his lungs at the sight of your eyes glowing with the kind of light that brought him back to the first day The night he met you in that shitty bar—alcohol the only thing on his mind until he saw you.

The night you spoke his name over his covered grave and dragged him back to life with a smile.

[fanaticsnail]

Dreaming of You

Masterlist here

Word Count: 470+, 900+, 1,200+, 900+

Synopsis: They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. Kid, Killer, Heat

Warnings: wet dreams, gn!reader (penetration-reader!receiving), swearing, masturbation, dub con (Using your image to masturbate to), suggestive content, feelings, all individual 'x reader', headcanons, NSFW, 18+, MDNI.

Notes: This is the Kid-Pirates version of the original Heart-Pirate fic. @jintaka-hane asked for it, @nerium-lil and I needed it. I love these guys. Please read the warnings. Art link.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @indydonuts @i-am-vita @mfreedomstuff @carrotsunshine

“Please, don't stop. Don't stop!” You sobbed in desperation, the feeling of his thrusting causing tears to spill from your eyes in ecstacy. You writhed as he sheathed himself deep within your stomach, overcome by his brutal rapidity in using your body to chase his own high.

He tugged at your hair, pounding you from behind while he anchored his chin into your neck. Turning his head, he gnawed at your shoulder with a deep, purple bite, prompting you to cry out his name as he kept bullying that sweet spot deep within you. He tugged harder on your hair, looking into your face from behind and witnessing its contortion in pleasure.

“Please, please,” you whined his name, in a begging chant, “Please cum in me. Use my body for your pleasure. I n-need it.” His eyes rolled back, tightening his hold on your waist and digging his nails into your hair. He immediately barked out a string of curses, spilling his hot cum deep within you with a soft chant of your name.

The contractions of your body fluttering around his throbbing cock prompted him to cry your name and chase his high with more intentional snaps of his hips. His hot spurts splash up within you as he molded your body to the shape of his throbbing cock.

“Nnghm, you f-fucking feel that?” he growled, his brows furrowing as he pressed his hand on your stomach to feel the tip of his cock deep in you, “I’m cumming so fucking deep. I'm-... fuck, hnmh-... I'm cumming.” You mewled for him, throwing your head back on his shoulder and rocked yourself on him.

“Yes. F-Fuck, yes. Keep going,” The spectral, dream-like image of your body crying for him branded itself into his memories. He couldn’t get enough, his eyes glazing over as he witnessed you take his entire, heavy load deep within you.

The yelp of his name, the dopey smile on your lips, and body glistening in a soft dew of pleasure had him chasing your high and over stimulating his thick cock buried within you. He pummeled himself deeper, huffing and panting before feeling a sense of pride at feeling you clench around him as you cum for him.

“Ahh, f-f-fuck,” he barked, shooting the few final spurts of his release into you before the image dissipated and was shrouded in murky shadow.

His eyes snapped open, looking down to his stomach as he witnessed the damp patch of sticky cum deep into his pants. His cock twitched, grinding his knob against his underwear as it began to deflate.

Cringing, he opened the waistband of his pants and growled at the translucent release coating his cock, fluid pooling down his shaft and leaking down his balls. He groans at the sight before falling back and wallowing in self pity.

“Fuck-...”

Eustass Kid

“..-You.” Kid growled, pinching his brow with his right hand before rubbing his eyes and face with his palm, “Fuck you!” He kicked back his bedsheets, springing to his feet and growling all the while.

Aggressively peeling off his pajama pants, he used the coarse material to clean his cock of the remnants of his illusionary desires. He rolled them into a ball and threw them to the other side of the room, snarling at the fact his body betrayed him in such a way.

Grumbling, groaning and pouting, he kicked at the side of his bed and sifted through his clothes to find a fresh pair of pants. He was angry, mostly, at himself; the way his cock decided to take the lead in ushering him through dreams he knew would never be a reality. You were a part of his crew! His job was to lead you, and your role was to trust him enough to follow his orders.

Drawing back over encounters with you on his crew, real and tangible moments you shared together, his frown deepened at the thoughts. Your smile beaming at him, the way you stood in front of him to protect him from harm's way, the way you followed his orders with nothing uttered besides a simple: “Yes, Captain”, the way your back arched when you recoiled tangled ropes.

He halted at that thought, zeroing in on that moment. Your ass. Your perfect ass. His cock twitched in his pants, prompting his right hand to reach down and readjust the angle within the tight fabric.

A sneer found its way to his lips, pouting as he replayed the hazy dream he woke from moments prior. Listening to the way your tongue rolled over his name, the way you so easily sucked his cock deep within your body, the feel of his hand reaching around your stomach to feel the protrusion from within your abdomen externally - he began to grow angry.

You did this to him.

This was your fault.

He began to stomp towards the top deck, knowing that he rostered you on for the night shift in the crows nest to keep watch. Twitching his right hand, he began to buzz the sparks of magnetism to coil around your leather uniform at the metal ring in center of your chest.

Gazing over at the sea, you feel your eyes droop. Your body is overcome with exhaustion after keeping yourself awake through the cryptid hours, a yawn calling to you with a tightness in your chest. As you clamp your lips shut after a lengthy yawn, you feel the tightness in your chest grow, the center of your harness buzzing to life and shaking with static.

“What the-... Ahh!” you exclaim, feeling your body soar through the air and down the top mast towards the angry figure of your Captain. You shriek in shock, your back thumping against the stiff mast as the crackling energy pinned you against the wood.

Eustass Kid stomps his heavy boots over to you, your brows knit in both shock and fury at how he made your body dance within the air so easily with his devil-fruit ability.

“What the fuck is your problem, Captain-?” you attempt to ask, your voice being silenced by a feral, barking growl of your Captain.

“-You’re my problem!” Kid roared, looking down his nose at you and curling back his lips to bare his teeth at you, “Walking around wearing that leather outfit like you're some part of BDSM club!”

“The fuck?” you question him, truly confused as you downturn your lip, “You gave this to me, Sir. It's a part of our uniform? You make all of us wear one!” You bark back at him, sneering up at him.

“Fuck you,” Kid snarled, stepping closer to you and closing the gap between your bodies. You end up more confused, up-turning your lip as you feel your anger more tangible.

“Fuck me?” you snarl, shaking your head, “Fuck you, Sir,” you spat, darting your eyes down his chest to get a read on his posture and body language. “You can't just go around calling people to you when you feel like it! What the fuck is wrong with- Mmmfph!”

Hot lips crash atop yours, Kid's bruising kiss shocking your senses more than the initial spectral grab through the air. His teeth bit at your lips, his roaming right hand snaking around your waist and grasping at your ass in a rough fistful. You cry out in shock as he begins kneading it beneath his palm.

“Fuck-,” Kid muffled against your mouth, tilting his head and dragging his tongue over your lips, “-You.”

Offended, you fight back. You bit his bottom lip, aggressively flicking your tongue into his mouth and wriggling against the buzzed pin of your harness against the wood.

“Fuck you, Captain,” you snarl, gasping into his mouth, and wrapping your legs over his hips to find purchase against them. He drove his hips forward, grinding its clothed, thick cock against your pelvis; his knob already beginning to weep with precum from the moment you reciprocated his advances. You groaned against his lips, still partially in shock as to why your captain was kissing you like this.

Kid refused to allow his dreams to get the better of him, falling victim to its foggy, illusionary composition. Why should he make up some fictitious memory when the real thing was so much better?

Massacre Soldier Killer

Overcome with the sheer embarrassment of his intrusive thoughts, he closed his eyes and took a moment to collect himself.

“Keep going,” the mirage called to him, his hazy form using your body as a muse for pleasure, “Killer, I need you.” He snapped upright, stomping over to his laundry basket and peeled off his sticky pants and underwear. Aggressively thrusting the soiled garments in the hamper, he drew his hands up to his hair and scraped it back with his fingers.

As his fingers met with his hair, he was reminded of the image his mind made of the texture of yours. The thump of your hips meeting his, the ripples of your ass as it slapped back into him, the way your body felt wrapped around his cock: he was haunted by you. He growled, his hands shaking with rage at his mind defiling the image of you and forcing his body to cum.

“You deserve better than this,” Killer whispered aloud, shaking his mask-covered face and scowling at his cock, “The fuck is wrong with me?” He cleaned himself up with a few tissues from his bedside table before shrugging his pants over his hips and making his way to the bathroom.

He saw a light reflected in the basin and vanity of the small bathroom, watching as your hunched figure bent itself over the sink and washed your face. You had a soft wiggle in your movements, humming as you shook your hips and splashed water on your face.

Frozen in place, he had never been more thankful to be wearing a mask. He shamelessly raked his eyes over the curvature of your ass, watching as you arched your back to gaze at your reflection. Focussing on ridding the night off your features and waking yourself up, you didn't notice him standing behind you.

Transfixed by your gentle hum, he couldn't bring himself to scold his rapidly buzzing thoughts at what you looked beneath your pajamas. The prior dream and lustful visions had his cock twitch beneath his pants. You finally noticed his presence beside you, calling out your greeting to him and asking your question.

“Killer, can you fuck me, please? I need to know how your body tightens as you paint my insides with your sticky cum. I need it, please.”

Killer snapped his eyes up to your face, noticing you cock your head to the side with a puzzled expression. His body tightened, tensing his muscles as he gulped back a large, dry lump; his Adam's apple bobbing at the thought.

“Wanna run that by me again?” Killer asked, stuttering over the words. You smile warmly at him, briefly examining his body.

“I said: ‘Morning, Killer. Can you pass me that towel please? I kinda need it to dry my face’,” you giggle, gesturing to the towel beside him with your index finger. He hastily rustled the towel into his hands and thrust it out in front of him. You express your gratitude with a soft nod of your head, swiping at your face to dry it.

You take a moment to study him, noticing the tension in his chest and subtle shake in his hands. His body remained stationary, staring at you as you attempted to get a read on him.

“Did you want the basin?” you ask him, no response being met with your question. Killer deeply inhaled, exhaling with a soft sigh of deep mourning. “Kil? You okay? Rough night?” He snapped out of it, gazing at you through the holes in his mask and smiling softly.

“I feel like I should apologize to you,” Killer confessed, reaching out his hands to take your towel and hanging it on your allocated hook. “Look, I-...” he trailed off, shaking his head and clicking his tongue, “...I had a dream about you, and it didn't put you in a good position. I feel like I should apologize to you for it.”

“Oh? What do you mean? What position?” your brows knit together, looking at him with confusion, “Were we fighting or something? Hah! Did I win?” He took a moment to step forward, offering his hands up in defense.

His silence has you concerned, looking down at him before your eyes widened in shock. Killer was admitting he had a dream about fucking you.

“O-Oh…” you exclaimed in shock before your lips curled into a light smirk, “Ohh, that kind of dream…” Stepping forward, you gently jab at him with your index finger with a loud, teasing laugh. “And how was I, big guy?” you teased him, grinning a winning smile and biting your tongue playfully at him, “Did you finish? Did I finish?” He remained silent and crossed his arms over his chest, prompting you to squeal out a choked laugh.

“Oh shit, did you-...” your eyes snapped down to his pants before gazing back into the holes in the mask where his eyes would be, “...Did you actually finish? Like, in the dream, and outside of it?” your smile widened, a soft blush growing on your face as he remained silent and stoic.

“Oh, Killer!” you laughed, clapping your arms around his biceps and giving him a gentle hug with a light laugh, “It's fine. Honest! No judgment from me” you break from the embrace to glance up at him. “Sometimes our minds just run away with us. Enjoy the show. I’m flattered, truly.”

He couldn't help but be in awe of your response, watching as you turned back around and began fixing your hair in the reflection. You began humming your song again, attempting to ignore the rising flutters in your chest at the notion that somewhere, deep beneath the muscular exterior of Killer’s extremely built body, the first-mate had a soft spot for you.

“You forgive me, then?” Killer asked softly, unfolding his arms and hanging them by his side.

“There's really nothing to forgive, but if you think you need it, sure. I forgive you, big guy,” you suggested, getting frustrated at yourself as your hair decided to become uncooperative, “Can help me with my damn hair, and then tell me all about it? In graphic detail? I gotta know what you had me do in your dreams.” Laughing at your own response, your smile was wiped from your face as Killer grabbed a rough fistful of your hair.

He arched you back, feeling your body meet with his chest as he held your hair. His grip was tight enough to halt your motion, but loose enough to not harm you. You let out a soft squeak of shock, eyes widening as you stared at him in the reflection. His other arm snaked around your hips, holding you flush against him.

“Tell you?” he whispered into your ear, tugging your hair to have your head lull back against his shoulder, “Why do that when I can show you?” He nuzzled his head into your neck, freezing before flinching away to check in, “That is, if this is something that you want?”

You blink back your shock, gawking at the position he had you in. Your mind raced a thousand ways a second as you darted your eyes over his hold on you. You whisper quietly, eyes wide and innocent while your curiosity peaks.

“Yes, please.”

Heat

Heat growls at himself, thrusting his left hand into his tangled head of lengthy bed hair before slumping back down into the mattress. Scarred lips quirk down at the corners, his mouth pouting as he contemplates over what just happened.

His crewman, his confidante, his friend: you. He had conjured up an astral projection within his slumber of you writhing on his cock as he thrust deep, languid movements up into your body. The feeling of your spectral image wrapped around his thick shaft, the way you shook like a leaf around him the moment you came undone; it was all enough to spark a new round of inspiration to ignite within his cock.

He reached down into his pants, wrapping his underwear around his already half-hard cock and began grinding the slippery material down over his shaft. The shame he felt was eclipsed by the way your voice haunted him, the way you poured his name over your lips.

“Heat,” he heard you within his mind's eye, “Fuck me, Heat. I need you. Please fuck me.” He whimpered, drawing up the covers to his lips and biting down on the thick blanket. Scrunching his eyes shut, he began thrusting his hips up to meet with his pistoning cock in his palm.

He whispered your name, groaning as his tongue brushed with the duvet. He rolled within the bed, keeping the blankets within his clamped teeth as he began bucking into his hand. Although he took you from behind in his dream, he was picturing your face in his mind.

The way you'd hang your mouth to form a perfect “O” when you came, the way your thighs would quake as your body tingled with the first contraction of your orgasm, the way he would be able to see the deep bulge within your stomach considering the size difference between you. He huffed, panting your name as he heard what you'd say when you came undone.

“Heat, I-I’m gonna cum,” he screwed his eyes shut, tongue flicking out over the blanket as he continued to chase his high, “Please let me. I n-need to. Please let me cum on your cock.” He allowed his mind to get the best of him, picturing exactly how your toes would curl behind his back.

“Y-You like that?” he whispered your name, “You like the way my cock feels deep inside you?” His whisper and huffed pants of your name echoed in his private quarters, his solitude in this moment being his only comfort.

Giving himself permission to use your name while he pleasures himself, he came to terms with the way he felt about you. To him, you were perfect. You were the person for him: his favorite person. The person he wants to come to bed with after a long day to snuggle - to fuck into his mattress, and to ruin for any other partner due to how well he would seek to please you.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispered your name, screwing his eyes shut tighter and feeling the soft prick of tears at the corners of his eyes, “You wanna cum? Wanna cum with me?” He doubled down his efforts, “You want my cum? I'll fucking fill you up.”

He groaned a final call of your name, rutting into his hand deep against the mattress and painting the inside of his underwear with thick spurts of scorching cum.

“I-I'm cumming,” he cried your name, whimpering and growling it like an animal in heat while staggering his thrusts into his hand, “Oh, I'm cumming for you.”

After riding his palm coming down from his high, he immediately felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and shame at the fact he used your image to chase his release into his hand. His blush deepens, his disgust growing as he feels the sticky pool seeping through his underwear and into his pajama pants.

Hastily springing to his feet, he kicked off the pants to avoid more of a spill and grimaced as he peeled off his underwear. Folding the material in half, he used it to clean the rest of his shaft before tossing them into a hamper beside his bed. He redrew up the pajama pants over his hips and walked over to his door, collecting his bathroom supplies as he prepared himself for a proper shower to wake himself up.

As he opened his door, he was met with a statuesque figure of a fist balled at his chest height and intending to knock. His eyes widened, looking down to see your widened eyes and deep flush coating your face in several shades darker than your original hue.

His own face immediately flushed with blood, his cheeks darkening to a deep purple color the moment he saw your face. Your fist shook lightly, your lips parted and your eyes slowly blinked.

You had just caught Heat masturbating, and he had whispered your name while he came. Without truly a clue as to what to do with this information, you gulped back a dry mouthful and stated your purpose.

“Captain sent me to get you to come on watch-shift with me in the next twenty,” you managed to choke out, avoiding eye contact with Heat as his shock drew further up his face, “I made us breakfast-.”

Heat immediately slammed his bedroom door in your face, turning on his heels and throwing his hand up to cover his eyes in shame. He yelled into his palm, stifling the sound as his embarrassment and shame washed over his body in a cold, icy wave.

This was going to be one very long, very awkward, and very tense shift.

[goldfades]

PROTECTIVE P──BUECKERS⁵

request!

─ summary | paige finds you in tears after watching stepmom and, misunderstanding the reason for your distress, instinctively comforts your with her protective nature.

─ pairing | paige bueckers x fem!reader

─ warnings | omg nothing, so short and sweet. paige is being slightly overdramatic, but reader is crying sooo... yeah. literally nothing at all it's so sweet.

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!

Tears blur your vision, the dim light of the room making the screen in front of you seem like a watery painting. You quickly swipe at your cheeks, though the attempt is pretty useless considering how soaked the tissue in your hand already is. The closing credits of Stepmom roll in a soft melody, tugging at your chest like a string you can't sever. You take a shaky breath, hugging your knees tighter to your chest, the weight of the movie's ending pressing down on you in waves.

The room feels oddly still, like even the air is holding its breath alongside you. The last few scenes play in an endless loop in your mind: the bittersweet embrace, the tearful goodbyes. It all claws at you, pulling at emotions you hadn’t prepared for. Your heart aches in that way only a well-crafted story can make it—like you're mourning something personal, something real. And as much as you want to pull yourself together, the lump in your throat only grows, tightening with every labored breath.

You stare blankly at the dark screen now, the credits long gone, but the emotional storm inside you rages on. The empty room echoes with the quiet sniffles you fail to hold back. A part of you feels silly for crying over a movie you've seen a million times, but to be completely fair, you were about to get your period.

Suddenly, you hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching. Before you can react, the door creaks open, and in walks Paige. The look on her face shifts instantly as she takes you in, sitting curled up on the couch, your tear-streaked face lit only by the soft glow of the television.

"Baby?" Her voice is low, gentle, but you can hear the edge to it, like she's holding something back. Her eyes—those sharp, intense blue eyes—narrow as they sweep over you. She's scanning, assessing, the same way she does when she’s reading a defense on the court. "What happened?" she asks, her tone both concerned and commanding, demanding an answer even as her voice stays soft.

Your throat tightens, and you shake your head, unable to explain through the wave of emotion still crashing over you. You know you don’t look great right now—puffy eyes, blotchy skin, a crumpled tissue that’s no match for the tears—but Paige doesn’t care about that. No, she’s laser-focused on the fact that you’re upset, and that’s all she needs to see.

In a heartbeat, she’s crossing the room, long strides eating up the distance between you. She drops down beside you on the couch, her arm sliding around your shoulders in one smooth motion, pulling you in against her chest. Her grip is firm, possessive, like she needs to protect you from whatever caused this. Even if she doesn’t know what “this” is yet.

"You don’t have to talk," she murmurs, pressing her cheek against the top of your head. Her voice is like velvet, low and soothing, but underneath it, there's a quiet storm brewing. Her protective instincts are flaring up, you can feel it. She’s always been like this—fierce when it comes to you, like you're something precious she’d fight the world to keep safe.

Her hand gently cups your cheek, turning your face up toward hers. Paige’s eyes are intense, practically burning with emotion, the warmth of her palm grounding you despite the whirlwind inside. "Whatever it is, I got you," she whispers, and you believe her. You always believe her.

But the softness in her touch contrasts with the edge in her voice. There's a possessiveness there that makes your heart race, a deep need to fix whatever has you so broken right now. She tightens her hold on you, like if she hugs you hard enough, she can shield you from whatever hurt is eating at you.

"Baby-"

"No, it's okay. Shh..." She interrupts before you can finish, and you feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment. She looks ready to go to war, to tear apart anyone or anything that could have possibly made you cry.

You try to pull away slightly, to create some distance, but Paige isn’t having it. Her grip tightens, drawing you back against her chest as if she’s physically unwilling to let you go. "Don’t do that," she says, her voice low but firm. "Don’t hide from me." Her fingers trail down your arm, her warmth seeping through the fabric of your shirt, and you feel the goosebumps rise in response.

You open your mouth, ready to explain, to tell her it’s nothing serious, just a movie, but the way she’s looking at you stops the words before they can even form. There’s something fierce in her eyes, a protective edge that goes beyond simple concern. It’s possessive, almost primal, like she’s ready to tear down anyone or anything that might hurt you—even if that thing is your own emotions.

"Paige, really, it’s not—"

"I said shh..." She cuts you off again, her voice dropping lower, more insistent. Her other hand moves up to cradle the back of your head, gently pressing your face into the curve of her neck. She smells like fresh sweat and a hint of soap—probably from the quick shower after practice—and the familiar scent makes you relax a little more, even if your heart is still racing.

"Just let me take care of you," she murmurs, her lips brushing your hair. "You don’t have to explain anything. I’m here, okay? I’m here." There’s a soothing rhythm to her words, each one a steady beat that matches the rise and fall of her chest.

You can feel her heartbeat under your cheek, strong and steady, grounding you even as you’re still battling the emotional aftershocks of the movie. It’s almost overwhelming—the way she’s holding you so close, her arms wrapped around you like she can shield you from everything, including yourself. And maybe that’s exactly what she’s trying to do.

Her fingers tangle in your hair, massaging your scalp with slow, deliberate strokes, and despite the embarrassment still gnawing at the edges of your mind, you can’t help but relax into her touch. Paige always has this way of making the world disappear when she’s near you, like nothing else matters as long as you’re in her arms.

"Who hurt you, baby?" she whispers, her voice darker now, and you feel the intensity of her question deep in your chest. It’s not just a question—it’s a promise. A dangerous one. You know she’d go to extremes to protect you, to make sure nothing or no one ever makes you feel like this again.

"It’s just... a movie..." you manage to mumble into her neck, but even as you say the words, you can feel Paige tense beneath you.

"A movie?" she repeats, and though there’s a hint of relief in her voice, there’s still a trace of suspicion, like she’s not quite ready to believe it. "You’re crying like this over a movie?"

You nod against her, the heat in your cheeks returning in full force. "Yeah. Stepmom."

Paige lets out a long breath, and you can feel her relax slightly, her grip on you loosening just a little. But even then, she doesn’t let go entirely, keeping you close like she’s not ready to fully release you from her protective embrace.

"Baby, you scared me," she finally says, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. Her gaze softens, and a small, almost sheepish smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. "You know I can’t stand seeing you like that."

"I’m okay," you whisper, though the way her eyes linger on yours tells you she’s not entirely convinced.

"Next time, just tell me," Paige says, her thumb brushing your lip in a feather-light touch. "I’m here for all of it—the good, the bad, and the sappy movie tears. You don’t ever have to hide from me. Got it?"

"That's what I was trying to tell you," you let out a teary laugh as you look at her. She rolled her eyes, her lips quirking up in that sweet smile you love so much. Paige presses a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment longer than usual, her lips warm and gentle against your skin.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[livelaughlovesubs]

NINININININIIIII!!!!! I am begging you to make a fic abt bunny dazai + w a breeding kink!! There is so little fic abt bunzai Im so sad… ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡

- 🎀

BUNZAI HELPPPP sounds cute though hehe (also sorry for being late)

Dom!reader x sub!dazai

Warning: bunny hybrid, pegging (I use dick), breeding kink, dirty talk, teasing, dacryphilia, feminisation, kinda perverted

A pair of fluffy ears with a soft tail to match, all in a sweet chocolate brown colour. Not only did it feel smooth to the touch, it was also very lively, twitching and moving around whenever you’d touch it. He especially liked it if you would rub the base, the area where it’s connected to his body. A few light strokes were all it took to make him shiver underneath you, arms hugging the plushies tightly as his eyes rolled back.

“Nghhhh… you are suuuch a tease!” Dazai shuddered, wagging his little fluff ball that was raised high in the air. Then he also shook his ass around, as if he was mimicking his own tail. “Stop getting distracted and f- hnngh, fuck me properly.” The male demanded, turning his head to look at you over his shoulder. His dark brown eyes were watery, the skin below tainted crimson. But he was smiling, a dumb grin as strings of saliva stuck from the plushies to his lips. That wasn’t the only sticky thing, his bangs were like glued to his forehead, all from him sweating so much. There was no helping it, his heart is beating so fast and the blood rush was too exiting.

“Hah” You scoffed, “getting bold, aren’t you? Why don’t you focus on pleasing me first?” Afterwards you replied calmly, signalising you were used to his cheeky behaviour. Instead of letting go of his fluffy features, you tugged on his ears a little. “Mhm~! S-stop that..!” He said even though he didn’t seem like he wanted you to stop, nevertheless you still let go. “Are they really that sensitive?” A sigh slipped from your lips while your hand found its way back to his waist, fingers sinking into his soft flesh, causing some red marks to be left behind. “That tickles, are you that obsessed with my body?” Dazai mocked, holding your gaze with his usual playful attitude. “Aren’t you too impatient, bunny? Where is the fun in that.” You responded with another question, leaning down with your upper body so that you could nibble at the tip of his ears.

His body jerked very suddenly, you noticed because his tail twitched the moment your lips touched his fur. “How cute my bunny is, why don’t we play a little longer?” You suggested, hands slowly moving upwards to try and grope his chest. “Mhnn, hmm.. no, I can’t take it anymore. You are already i-inside me, so why can’t you just move?” Oh dear, the rabbit boy almost sounds angry now. He bawled his fists, his rim clenching around you and loosening up in desperation. You couldn’t help but laugh at such a pathetic display, asking innocently, “And why do you want me to fuck you so badly, little bun’?” Now he was glaring at you. How could you make him say something so embarrassing, he was definitely going to get back at you.

“Maybe because I wanna be breed?” Dazai mumbled into the toys beneath him, acting all sad as a part of his plan. He knew you liked it whenever he’d say something dirty, he knew what words gets you riled up. “Oh? You want what?” And you took the bait, as expected, no one can withstand his charm once he tries. Once again the boy met your eyes, staring right into yours as he whispered teasingly, “I want you to fill my womb with babies♡”

Hah! The audacity! To think he’d be this shameless, to voice out such perverted words! A shiver ran down your spine, you felt your stomach tingle in excitement. He knew you too good, way too good. “Can’t I bear your children, y/n? I’d take care of those small bun’s.” This man in front of you, with his ass up and face down, he didn’t know when to stop, did he? Pushing your buttons like this, egging you on. If you left him like this he’d only spout more nonsense. Though maybe he forgot, two can play this game.

“Aha, that’s what you want? For me to impregnate you?” You repeated his words, growing them into his ear in a low voice, “want me to make you a mama?” His eyes shone and tail wagged around, he could feel electricity being send to his dick, causing some precum to leak from the tip. “Nghh.. shit, do it.” He said, it was almost like an order. Maybe his impatience rubbed off on you, because you were itching to take him. Your fingertips were on his hips again, gripping down harshly as you moved your hips back. As if the previous provocations weren’t enough, you said, “If that’s the case, I can’t wait to see you full and round with my children. I’m sure the bunnies would be adorable.”

So many sensations were coursing through him, they all felt so good he swore his brain was going to melt. Oh you, only you would entertain his filthy fantasies like this. If only he could truly get pregnant by you, he would have baby trapped you ages ago. Though this was fine as well, just the role play and imagination was enough for him. And apparently also enough for you, since you were snapping your hips against his bottom so roughly you might as well have been fucking babies right into his stomach.

It felt so good. The way your cock rubbed against his insides and walls, it got him drooling and crying in pleasure. “Ahh, so mHhHmm, good..!” At this point, he was so joyful and ecstatic he could barely keep fiction and reality apart. His knuckles turned white from clenching his fists so hard, tears rolling down his blushing cheeks and wetting his lashes. He whimpered when you brushed over his prostate, as if he just got taken to heaven. Not to mention how his pre was dirtying the sheets, creating a pool below him. He was so caught up with the pleasure he receives by you stretching him out he forgot about anything else.

Your little bunny sobbed in bliss and whined in a high-pitched voice, “m’wanna be gu-gahhHmm!! impregnated by you- e-everyday..♡♥︎”

Seems like he got too sentimental about the little play. How adorable your pet rabbit was.

[tsukuhoe]

10. please please please

from behind the mixing desk, choso watched you intently. his fingers hovered over the soundboard, ready to adjust levels at a moment’s notice. 

“y/n,” the brunette said, his voice crackling through the intercom. “wanna take it from the bridge again? you’re almost there— just lean into it.” whenever he works, choso’s like a whole new person. more serious, more focused, more professional. 

you nodded, determination flashing in your eyes. you took a deep breath as the instrumental track began to play in your headphones, the rich swell of strings building into a steady rhythm. your voice was raw and soulful when you sang, each word dripping with emotion. choso nodded along, tweaking the EQ slightly as you hit a particularly powerful note. as the song reached its peak, your voice cracked ever so slightly. 

“fuck,” you muttered, pulling off the headphones. 

“it’s okay,” choso said, stepping into the booth. “you’re pushing too hard on the outro… let it breathe. remember, it’s not about being perfect— it’s about feeling it.” 

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “i know. i just… i want this to be right. it’s a bit personal.”

choso placed his hand on your shoulder. “that’s exactly why it’ll be great! just sing it for yourself this time.”

you nodded, letting his words sink in. with a deep breath, you slid the headphones back on and faced the mic. choso returned to his seat, adjusted a few knobs, and gave you a thumbs-up. the track started again, softer this time. your voice was vulnerable yet strong as you sang. as you finished, the studio fell silent, your heart racing.

the brunette leaned into the mic, a slow smile spreading across his face. “that’s it, y/n. that’s the one.”

you grinned, the tension in your shoulders melting away. “really?”

“really. it was perfect.”

you ran out the booth, excitedly jumping towards him and pulling him into a warm unexpected hug. choso’s stomach did a flip. his mind racing. was this real? should he hug you back? would that be weird? 

“thank you, cho…” you said softly, your cheek resting against his shoulder and eyes welling up with tears. the brunette blinked, finally letting his arms rise to lightly return the hug.

“are you alright, y/n?” 

you didn’t expect to start tearing up at the question, however, it’s been a rough week with the rumours of sukuna being spotted with his ex all while being in a new environment filming for the first time. not only that, but the recent spike in popularity from your new single has been overwhelming. you couldn’t help but start tearing up in choso’s embrace; presence was so comforting. 

you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands still resting lightly on his shoulders. “yeah. sorry for getting emotional… it’s been a long week.” you chuckled, wiping the small tears that formed in your eyes. “oh, by the way, i forgot to tell you but i got permission for us to use special grade’s music production rooms— access to them 24/7.” 

choso’s eyes widened and lit up, excited like a puppy seeing a treat. “really?! wait y/n, seriously? that’s awesome!” 

“right, baby! you deserved a reward— so i bargained with the management when they discussed the scream reboot.” 

“thank you so so much! i could not be any happier, oh my god… i can’t believe it! all the new equipment, the space… i mean, can you imagine the quality of their mics? we could make so much more higher quality songs and…” a soft smile tugged at your lips. his voice rose and fell, his excitement weaving through every syllable. 

seconds later, the door swung open, revealing yuji, your producer’s younger brother, wearing a flour-dusted apron and an exuberant smile. 

“choso! y/n!” the pink-haired boy exclaimed, opening the door as the scent of vanilla and cinnamon enveloped the room like a cozy blanket. “the band and i just finished making cinnamon rolls, and we wanted to bring you two some! i’m not interrupting anything, right?” 

“omg thank you so much yuji! that’s so sweet of you!” you smiled giving him a peck on the cheek, as he handed you a plate with two freshly baked sweet rolls. 

choso never wanted to be his brother so badly until this very moment. 

album bonus tracks: — chosoy/n moments omgeee 🥹 — y/n in this chapter was having a panic attack btw if u didn't notice lol — (based on irl experiences when i had one in hs bc of my ex ꃋᴖꃋ) — yuji is so precious omg (adopt him rn!!!) ⋮ MASTERLIST  ֹ⋮  PREVIOUS  ⋮  ֹNEXT  ⋮

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[jacaerysgf]

just a little 1k wc smutty drabble of jacaerys eating good, enjoy 😊

You wish you hadn't seen it. What they had been doing, for it is had been plaguing your mind all day. You try to shake off the burning desire in your stomach as you recall the events.

You can’t, for even while you're kissing your husband you are thinking about it. He pulls away from you, a small string of saliva connects the two of you and as he stares at you with hearts in his eyes. “Is something wrong dear?”

You and Jacaerys have always had a very standard time in the bedroom. It is always very pleasurable for you, though you now know that is not the norm after some very shocking and concerning conversations with the other ladies in court, and this leaves you feeling guilty.

Guilty for wanting more of him, wanting him to consume you, for wanting him to give you more when he has already been selfish enough.

“It is nothing dear.” You attempt to push your lips against his once more but he holds your shoulders firmly in place, looking at you worriedly. “You are not yourself. If you are not up for it tonight we do not have to bed, i will not force myself on you.”

This has your heart aching as you look down. He is always so kind and so sweet to you. Which makes you feel like a dirty animal for the thoughts you are thinking.

“I do want to, so badly dear its just,,,” You trail off , turning your head the other way. He is quick to grab your chin and tilt your head back up to look at him. “What is it? If it is something i can do for you i will do it.”

You know he can do it. Or at least you hope he can.

“I had been walking around and i stumbled upon something,” You hesitate, unable to believe the words that are about to drip out of your mouth. “they were a squire and a maid, in the wine cellar, he had he propped up on one of the boxes, he seemed to be giving her pleasure but,” “but what?” Jacaerys voice is shaky, his hands rattle on your skin, he is desperate to hear your words, his breath fans on your skin in a rapid rhythm.

“But his head was between her legs. It is sinful and it is scandalous but i have never seen or heard anything like that before. It had engraved itself in my mind and i cannot stop thinking about ti, the blissful look on her face, not that you do not give me pleasure of course but this looked like it was different. Im sorry i know it is wrong to think about-” You gasp as his lips press heavily against yours.

He grips your jaw with a fury as he kisses you like he never has before. He pulls away from you and presses your foreheads together as you catch your breath. “You wish for me to do that to you my sweet? i will i will do it, gods i have been thinking about this for so long. You let out a squeal as he lightly pushes you to fall onto your back.

“Truly? Then why have you never brought this up before?” He looks embarrassed but he cannot stop himself from tugging up your nightgown to pool around your hips and reveal you bare to him. “It is quite, carnal, i suppose theres no better word for it. I did not think i lady like you would be interested.”

He presses a kiss against your stomach before he looks up at you once more. Its breathtaking to see him at an angle like this, simply staring up at you, you try to catch your breath but you are unable to as he begins to trail kisses down your stomach before stopping right where you want him and moving instead to grab your legs and place them on either sides of his shoulders.

You should feel humiliated, shame should be coursing through your veins but the way jacaerys has an awestruck look as he admires you and the way his hands softly caress your skin is enough to quench any worries and fears you have.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks, despite the fact that it had been your idea. “Yes.” There is not way you can stop your desire, certainly not with how desperate he seems, like he is dying to be able to put his head between your legs.

His face disappears from your view and you feel him kiss around your thighs. You whine as he continues to simply brush around where you want him and he chuckled, “i’m sorry i will not tease you.”

You wanted to say something back to him but you suddenly jump and a shiver runs down your spine as you feel his hot wet tongue push past your folds.

You harshly grip the top of his head as he hims content, the vibration adding another level of pleasure. You get why the woman seemed to pleased, this was on another plane of ecstasy.

Your head thrown back as he continues to lap against you, the sounds in the room leave your skin feeling hot. You continue to revel in the feeling of him licking at you, drinking up every drop you let out until you also feel something harder press against you. His nose.

You have no clue how he’s even breathing. But you cannot find it in you to care as you find your hips moving on their own, rubbing against his face, hitting his tongue and his nose so perfectly it has you seeing stars.

“Keep doing that please.” He pulls away for a quick second to speak before he is right back to it. You listen, continuing to rut yourself again his face, unable to contain your moans. You’re sure everyone in the damn keep could hear you but you don’t care.

You do notice something curious, he is rutting himself against the bed, the moans he pours into you adds to your pleasure. Was he surely so pleased by this? by bringing you pleasure he had no other choice than to try and quench his own hunger by rutting himself against your sheets like a dog?

You have no time to dwell on it as he brings one of his hands to your clit, taking it in his fingers and rubbing it around. You’re thrown into a whirlwind of pleasure like you couldn't believe. You're sure this is what heaven must feel like.

His hand slides up your chest and you lock your fingers with his as you feel yourself drawing closer and closer to your release. It is like your souls locking together. He grips you so tightly and you grip his back as your face contorts in pleasure as you burst.

You continue to wither in pleasure as he laps up every single drop of essence you spill out in your release. He sits up and stares at you with wide eyes, his usual brown eyes lost in a storm of black, pleasure seeping into his soul.

You can see the shine gloss all over his face, his nose, his jaw, his chin, his lips and his lip especially are noticeable as you can see they are redder and bigger. You watch as he licks his lips and grins at you. “That is so much better than i could have ever dreamed of.”

You have to agree

<3 went a little crazy and wrote this yesterday when i was freaking out of jace <3

Perm Jacaerys taglist

@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aegonswife @jacesvelaryons

[rindreamery]

Hihi!!! For ur evenr can i request nagi + sweet + kiss on forehead + sibling's best friend

ORDER 11: READY TO GO !

nagi + sweet + kiss on the forehead + sibling's best friend w.c. 1k+

note. sooo, this is more like a comfort fic than fluff... but in MY mind, this is still considered fluff ☝️ nagi tries to comfort you when you're sad abt him and reo moving away for college basically LOL

interested in more? check out the lounge !

this feeling is foreign to him; this overwhelming, heavy weight that settles deep in his heart as he watches your shoulders subtly slump. 

you’re shifting your weight from foot to foot, lingering around the threshold of your bedroom door frame as you watch reo walk past with another box of his belongings. he’s supposed to be helping, he’s supposed to be offering support to reo as he prepares to move out for college, but he doesn’t. he sits on one of the boxes in the hallway, unmoving, eyes trained on you. eyeing the way your eyes stay locked onto reo’s retreating back— sad, obvious in the way your eyelids droop ever so slightly. 

even so, he simply watches, observes, because it’s the only thing he knows how to do. because, even when he tries to come up with the words, he can never string them together to say what he intends to. when you turn to face him, his lips stay pursed shut. 

“aren’t you,” and you hesitate, “going to help reo out?”

he thinks of what to say. which is futile, because in the end, he shrugs and answers with, “too lazy.” a typical answer, one that provides you brief comfort.

you try to smile at that. fighting back the frown that constantly tugs at the corners of your lips, overcompensating by flashing him an unsteady and forced smile. like you’re trying to convince yourself that this is just another day, this is normal, and you’ll see them again tomorrow. but they just never quite reach your eyes— not in the way they always do when you’re truly happy. and your eyes are fluttering, blinking rapidly but softly at the same time, like you’re willing yourself to stop them from glazing over with tears. he can tell, because he always does, especially when it comes to you. 

you’re trying your best to keep your facade up in front of him, trying to act like you’re not upset. trying to act like you won’t miss having him and reo around once they’re set off for college. he doesn’t quite understand the feeling of missing someone this close, a sibling, family— but in a way, he thinks that he might understand what you feel. he thinks he might end up missing you, too— someone close to him. 

nagi feels his chest tighten, so uncomfortable and constricting, at the thought. you're upset, and that makes him upset.

he thinks of ways to rid himself of this feeling, to make you okay again, and he thinks long and hard. a beat passes, or two, and it clicks— and he wonders if what he's thinking could really provide any real comfort to you.

but it’s swift, his body acting on its own before he, himself, truly processes what he’s doing. he’s standing up, taking two long strides, closing the small distance between the two of you in a matter of seconds. before his arms are opening, making space only to hold you. 

frankly, he doesn’t know what he’s doing. more concerned with making you feel better, and less about how this isn’t like him, at all.  

your body stiffens at the sudden and unfamiliar contact, arms going frigid at your sides. it's awkward, and he has to nudge one of your arms to move, enough to slither his arm around your waist to firmly plant a hand against the small of your back. he presses, pulling you flush against him, completely enveloping you. and his other hand comes to rest on the back of your head, fingers lightly threading through the strands of your hair, just enough to tilt your head upwards.

he’s leaning down, enough for his lips to ghost the skin of your forehead, whispering, “i’m—” he catches himself, “we’ll always be right here.” before his eyes close as he presses a gentle, almost fleeting, kiss to your forehead— pausing, letting the feeling of his lips last, even for just that extra second. 

the heaviness in his heart lifts, even by a tiny amount, as your arms wrap around him too. reciprocating. he feels the way your body relaxes against him, leaning your weight into his chest as you fully surrender in his embrace. he keeps you there; he lets you lean on him for just a moment longer, feeling the way your heartbeat finally settles into your chest into a steady rhythm. a constant, slow thud. 

he's not sure how long the two of you stay like this, frozen.

when he finally pulls away, only enough to be able to glance down at you, his arms stay still in their spot. he waits as your eyes flutter, slowly drifting open, to look back at him— watching as your eyes widen, mouth parting in shock, as you process what happened. but, you don’t push him away, neither making an effort to untangle yourselves.

off in the distance is the sound of boxes shuffling and being moved around, accompanied by reo’s voice, that drags the two of you out of your little moment. he’s calling for nagi, nagging for him to help him out. you shuffle against him, and feels the light weight and warmth leave from around his waist, as you pull your arms back to your sides. 

nagi clears his throat, awkwardly, looking off to the living room and then back at you. 

“i should��” he starts to speak, quiet as his voice tapers off with uncertainty. his hands linger a little longer on the back of your head, not wanting to pull himself away just yet— but he does. it takes everything in him, but he peels himself off of you, fighting the way every part of him wishes to have you in his arms again. “i should probably go help reo now.”

he watches as you nod stiffly at him, shoulders now less slumped, but feet firmly planted in place as he takes a few steps back. with that, he turns to walk away— not before glancing over his shoulder, one last time, for your eyes to meet for that fraction of a second— heartbeat thundering against his chest. 

© rindreamery, 2025

[gumisbwunni]

PT 4

a/n: so this took me ages to write... tysm for the support, hope yall enjoy. Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3,

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You adjust the scarf around your neck, your breath curling in the frosty evening air as you stood by the crepe stand, glancing at the menu as the festive lights twinkled above, casting a warm glow over the crowd. People around you laughing, chatting, and enjoying the cold evening.

“Y/N!”

You turned quickly, a little startled, to see Satoru pushing his way through the crowd. His usual mischievous grin was on his face, and the familiar sight of him made your heart race, despite the years apart. He was dressed casually in a hoodie under a coat, looking as effortless as ever.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, a little out of breath. “Got caught up in a crowd. What are you getting?”

You smiled, trying to play it cool. “Just deciding,” you said, looking up at the menu.

Without a second thought, Satoru reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet. “I’ll get it for you,” he said, giving you thats tupid grin you kenw all too well.

You hesitated. “Are you sure? I can pay for my own—”

“Nah, I insist,” he said with a chuckle, tapping his card against the counter before you could protest further. “And besides, It's the least I can do after making you wait.”

the server handed him the crepes, Satoru passed you your order, and you both stepped away from the booth, the rich scent of the crepes wafting in the air.

As you wandered through the festival, you both chatted about your lives, sharing stories of what you’d been up to since high school. But it wasn’t long before Satoru glanced over at the towering, neon-lit roller coaster nearby, and a mischievous grin spread across his face.

“So,” he said, voice dripping with teasing energy, “are you ready for the ride of your life?”

You followed his gaze to the terrifying, twisting roller coaster. “You mean the ride of your life,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow. “You know I’m not about to get on that death trap.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing. “You’re a grown woman, and you’re scared of roller coasters?”

“I’m not scared,” you said quickly, though your stomach flipped at the thought. “I’m just… cautious. There’s a difference.”

Satoru chuckled. “Sure, sure. Cautious. Well, I’m not forcing you, but it couldve been fun.”

“Not happening,” you said firmly, taking a bite of your crepe. The sweet, warm flavor distracted you for a second, but the amusement in his eyes made you feel a little more exposed than you liked.

You spend the next hour wandering the festival, stopping at game booths and snack stands. At one point, Satoru wins you a small stuffed hello kitty, handing it to you with a crooked grin.

“For old times’ sake,” he says. “You’ve always liked hello kitty”

You stare at the plushie in your hands, something tight curling in your chest. “thank you”

“Of course.” His voice is quieter now, tinged with something you can’t quite name.

By the time the festival begins winding down, the lightness in the air has given way to a quieter, more intimate tension. Satoru suggests grabbing a drink somewhere, and you agree, like a giddy teenager in love.

The coffee shop is cozy, its walls lined with bookshelves and twinkling string lights. You wrap your hands around your mug of hot chocolate, letting the warmth seep into your fingers as you glance at Satoru across the table. He’s stirring his drink with a small wooden stick, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his eyes meet yours.

“This is nice…” You pause, feeling a little flustered under his gaze. “I mean, the shop,” you quickly add.

He chuckles, looking around the room. “Yeah, it hasn’t changed much.”

The rich scent of chocolate fills the air as you lean in closer to inhale. “This chocolate smells amazing,” you say, closing your eyes for a moment to savor it.

Satoru nods, his gaze softening, though there’s a hesitation in his voice. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

You tighten your grip on the mug, the warmth grounding you. “I was a bit nervous, if I’m being honest. It’s been years.”

“Well, I’m glad you came,” he says with a genuine smile, and it feels like a quiet weight lifts from your chest.

For a moment, you just smile at each other, the quiet between you oddly comfortable.

“Do you remember the wedding invitation Shoko made for you in high school? The one she sent to everyone—including our teacher?”he asks suddenly, his grin widening.

You nearly choked on your hot chocolate , but you couldn’t stop the embarrassed laugh that slipped out. “How could I forget? That was… mortifying.”

Satoru smirked, clearly relishing in your discomfort. “I still can’t believe she did that. you got so red, i can remember you getting so embarrassed.”

“shut up,” you protested, though you couldn’t help but smile. “I thought I was going to die of embarrassment.”

He laughed, the sound making your chest tighten a little. “It was funny. Her photoshop skills needed a little work, but the effort was there.”

You shot him a playful glare. “God, don’t remind me. I’m sure she still has that picture.”

He shakes his head, the warmth in his eyes making your chest ache. “Those were good times.”

“They were,” you say softly, your smile fading slightly.

The laughter between you quiets, replaced by a lingering stillness. You trace the rim of your mug with your finger, unsure how to bridge the widening gap between lighthearted memories and the unspoken weight of the past.

Satoru seems to sense it too. He clears his throat and leans forward, resting his arms on the table. “So, uh… how long are you in town?”

“Just a few more days,” you say, meeting his gaze. “It’s weird being back after all this time.”

“I can imagine.” He hesitates, then adds, “Do you visit often?”

“Not really,” you admit. “I guess I just didn’t feel like there was much of a reason to.”

He nods slowly, his expression unreadable. “I get that.”

The conversation stalls again, and you feel your pulse quicken. You don’t know if it’s the quiet atmosphere or the way Satoru keeps looking at you like he wants to say something, but the tension is impossible to ignore.

“You ever think about high school?” he asks suddenly.

You blink, surprised by the question. “Sometimes,” you say carefully. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” he says, shrugging. “I guess I’ve just been thinking about it more lately. Seeing you again… it brings a lot back.”

You swallow, your hands tightening around your mug. “Like what?”

He hesitates, his eyes searching yours. “Like how easy it used to be. How much fun we had.” He pauses, his voice softening. “And how fast it all changed.”

Your chest tightens, and you look down at your drink, unable to hold his gaze any longer. “I didn’t mean for it to,” you say quietly.

“I know,” he says, his tone gentler now. “But it still did.”

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The noise of the coffee shop fades into the background, leaving only the sound of your breathing. The words hang between you, heavy and unspoken for so long.

Satoru breaks the silence. “I waited for you that night, you know.” His voice is soft, almost hesitant. “I thought maybe… maybe it meant something to you.”

Your heart twists painfully. “It did,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “I just… I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Satoru’s jaw clenches, and he runs a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “I would’ve understood, Y/N. If you’d just said something—anything.”

“I know,” you say, your voice cracking. “I know I should’ve, but I didn’t know how. I thought… I thought it was better to just leave.”

“Better for who?” he asks, his voice rising slightly.

Your throat feels tight, but you force the words out. “I didn’t know. I thought it was better for you. Everything was happening so fast, and…” You hesitate, lowering your gaze. “You weren’t exactly talking to me much by then, either.”

His jaw tightens. “You didn’t come to the game.”

“I couldn’t,” you say quickly. “There was stuff going on at home. I wanted to go, I swear I did, but I didn’t think you’d care after how you started acting.”

His lips part, but no words come out. Instead, he lets out a sharp breath, raking a hand through his hair. “You think I didn’t care?” he says finally. “Y/N, I waited for you all night. Like an idiot, looking at the bleachers any chance I got.”

Your heart twists painfully. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.

But Satoru just stares at you, the years of unspoken feelings in his eyes, and for a moment, all you can hear is the beating of your own heart.

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@manisimp @yujieatsdoritos @haruhatake @rottent0m4t03z @sillly-jokester

[jungaji]

don't be a stranger

jeong jaehyun x barista!reader ♡

genre: strangers to lovers, fluff (wc: 1429)

jaehyun stood outside the new café, arms crossed, his face pulled into a scowl so intense that even the cheery glow of the place seemed to dim in its presence. the soft hum of conversation and the inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted out the door, but neither did much to improve his mood.

“i’m telling you, woo. this place will never replace 127 Coffee. their coffee’s probably watered down garbage, and just look at that tacky logo... Café 7 Dream? what the hell does that even mean?” jaehyun scoffed, his lips curling as though even the name left a bad taste in his mouth.

jungwoo, undeterred by his friend’s dramatics, burst out laughing, the sound light and carefree as he gave jaehyun a playful shove. “relax…we’re here on important business. you know—research the enemy before we destroy them.” he added a wink for good measure, tugging jaehyun’s shoulder to prevent his stubborn friend from stalking off.

jaehyun sighed, the reluctance practically oozing from him. “this is a waste of my time,” he grumbled but continued to allow jungwoo to pull him inside.

the warm air greeted them immediately, carrying the comforting scent of coffee and pastries. the interior was cozy yet modern, all soft lighting and muted colors that begged customers to linger. 

but jaehyun didn’t notice any of it.

because the moment his gaze landed on you, the entire world seemed to come to a standstill.

you stood behind the counter, your smile soft and inviting as you handed a steaming cup to a customer. the way your fingers danced over the screen as you took orders, the gentle lilt in your voice as you chatted with your co-workers, and the focused little pout you wore as you carefully measured coffee beans—it was as if every detail about you was designed to captivate him.

jaehyun was utterly mesmerized. he didn’t just stop walking; he stopped thinking. he stood there, jaw slack, eyes wide, as his irritation from before evaporated faster than steam from the espresso machine.

jungwoo snapped his fingers in front of jaehyun’s face, before whispering in mock horror, jeong yunoh, snap out of it. what are you doing? we’re here to scope out the enemy, not drool over the barista!”

jaehyun barely registered his friend’s words. his heart thundered in his chest, drowning out everything but the sight of you. his feet moved before his brain could catch up, carrying him towards the counter like he was being drawn by an invisible string.

“hi! welcome to Café 7 Dream,” you greeted him with a smile so warm it could’ve melted glaciers. “what can i get for you today?”

jaehyun opened his mouth, ready to answer, but his brain had officially gone offline. his voice refused to cooperate, resulting in him just staring at you with an intensity that would’ve been unnerving if it weren’t for the soft, almost childlike wonder in his eyes.

jungwoo sighed dramatically, stepping in to rescue his dear friend. “two iced americanos, please,” he said, not before shooting jaehyun a pointed glare.

you nodded, punching the order into the register, as jaehyun snapped out of his trance. “and your number!” he blurted out, his dimpled smile softening the boldness of the request.

“please?”

your cheeks flushed immediately at his request. you were caught off guard, but when you looked at him—truly looked at him, with his sharp jawline, endearing smile and those soft, pleading eyes—you couldn’t help the shy smile that tugged at your lips. “um, y-yeah, sure.”

you quickly scribbled your number on a slip of paper, handing it to him along with the receipt.

jaehyun’s face lit up like a kid who’d just been handed the key to a candy store. and as he grabbed the drinks, he shot you one last wink, his voice low but sweet as honey.

“don’t be a stranger, pretty.”

from that moment on, jaehyun’s life brightened like a hazy sunrise burning through fog. he texted you constantly, his messages playful and sweet as he made an effort to get to know you better. late-night calls became a regular part of your routine, often happening when the stars were too bright and neither of you could fall asleep. his deep, velvety voice lulling you to sleep as you shared stories about your day, your favorite songs, and your childhood dreams.

jaehyun started dropping by Café 7 Dream more than he’d care to admit. even jungwoo gave up on teasing him about it after the fifth time.

you’d often spot him seated by the window, stealing glances at you as you worked. his presence slowly became a comforting part of your routine—something you found yourself looking forward to.

one night, during one of your late-night calls, you noticed something different about him. jaehyun, always so confident and self-assured, was stuttering and fumbling over his words. his laugh also sounded a little more nervous than usual.

“yn,” he began, his voice soft. “i was thinking… would you uh like to go on a date with me? and not the ones where i um watch you brew coffee for hours and then walk you home. i mean, like, an actual date…”

one where we’re no longer strangers. if you um get what i mean.”

your heart fluttered, a smile spreading across your face at his confession. “i’d love that, jaehyun,” you replied, and the laugh he let out in relief made you giggle in return.

he spent the next ten minutes animatedly planning out the date, his excitement was so infectious that you found yourself falling even harder for him.

when the evening of the date arrived, jaehyun was a nervous wreck. despite jungwoo’s relentless teasing, he continued to fuss over every little detail of his outfit, muttering to himself about making a good impression.

but when he arrived at your door to pick you up, his breath caught, his heart racing faster than ever before. you looked stunning, your shy smile only causing him to blush harder. “you’re… woah,” he stammered, earning a soft laugh from you.

the date was perfect. dinner at a cozy restaurant was filled with laughter and effortless conversation. afterward, jaehyun took you to the local arcade, where you both let loose, laughing so hard your stomach hurt. he even let you beat him at basketball, though the grin on his face made it clear that he didn’t mind in the slightest.

the night ended with a quiet walk under the stars, your hands brushing against each other’s until he finally mustered the courage to lace his fingers with yours. the warmth of his touch sent a pleasant shiver up your spine, and the comfortable silence between you felt more meaningful than words.

when you reached your doorstep, jaehyun hesitated, shuffling his feet slightly as he stood there, shoulders squared but eyes flickering nervously between you and the ground.

the date had been perfect for jaehyun. from the laughter you two shared over dinner, to the way your eyes sparkled as you trounced him at every arcade game, each moment felt like something out of a daydream.

but a storm of doubts swirled in his mind: was he moving too fast? did you even feel comfortable with him? were you genuinely having fun—or had you just been too polite to say otherwise? did you think the date was perfect, too—or, oh god, did you hate it? worse—did you hate him?

“jaehyun,” you said softly, cutting through his overthinking spiral.

he blinked, his lips parting as if to speak, but the words caught in his throat.

you smiled at his hesitation, a flicker of nervousness crossing your own features but deciding to take the leap for both of you. “kiss me.”

his breath hitched at your words. “s-sorry?” his voice just shy of a squeak. “could you, uh, repeat that? i think i might’ve misheard—”

“i said,” you stepped closer, tilting your head up slightly to meet his gaze, “kiss me, jaehyun.”

for a moment, he just stood there, completely frozen, his eyes blowing comically wide. why did this scene feel so familiar? you giggled at his reaction, the soft sound like a melody against the still night air. but your laughter died in your throat when jaehyun surprised you by cupping your face gently.

with a soft brush of his thumb, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes searching yours. “may i? really?” he whispered, his voice low and slightly trembling.

you smiled, leaning into his touch,

“don’t be a stranger, pretty.”

authors note: i don't necessarily believe in love at first sight but if its jaehyun, ill believe in anything. please enjoy… >0<

[kyu-piddy]

The mark of a soulmate

Small drabbles about meeting your soulmate.

Gn reader x Silver, Rook, Trey, Sebek, Kalim

Tw: None

2.5k words

Soulmates. A strange concept to you, but not to the residents of this strange world. Will you find yours?

When you came through that mirror, to this strange place of Twisted wonderland, you could feel a sting on your wrist. A small pain, like a sting of a needle, and then it was gone. When you had looked down at it, you had seen an intricate design. Curious about it, you asked the headmage.

“That is the mark of a soulmate! My, are they not common where you’re from?”

You shook your head.

“Not to worry. I’ll explain it to you, for I am so kind.”

“That mark is proof that out there, there is someone who is your other half. Their soul and yours complements each other in a way that no one else can. Meeting them will make you love the world just because it has them in it. Some people have multiple soulmates, others have platonic soulmates, but the most common is a romantic soulmate, and looking from your mark, it seems you have a romantic soulmate, and they’re rather close by. The mark gets darker and more defined the closer you are to them.”

With so much information, you could feel your head spinning. A soulmate? Such a thing really existed in this strange world you had been thrust upon by a dark carriage? 

You stared at the headmage with a confused expression.

“Oh, you doubt me! How can you think that of your headmaster?”

You sighed.

“But how would I even know who my soulmate is?”

“You’ll feel it.”

“Feel it?”

The headmaster nodded.

“You’ll feel something pulling at your heart. Like a string.”

It all still felt like bogus to you, but who were you to deny his words? In a world filled with magic and talking animals, soulmates wasn’t such a strange concept.

“A soulmate, uh? I can worry about that later. It’s not like I’ll meet them any time soon, even if they are close by. This campus is massive.”

Silver

The mark on your wrist was a beautiful sword, glimmering silver enveloped by roses and their thorns, but they weren’t menacing, more like a protection to the splendor of the weapon.

Being in this strange new world was stressful. You didn’t know any of the material in class or had any street smarts. You were a stranger in a strange land, and everyday felt like a fight to stay afloat and not lose yourself in the unknown.

It all felt so overwhelming, that you couldn’t help but run into a remote place and hide under a tree, tears streaming down your face, hiccups assaulting your body.

A gentle tap on your shoulder made your head shoot up.

You locked eyes with a beautiful silver haired stranger, his kind purple gaze making you want to cry even more.

“Are you alright?”

He asked, a voice so soft and soothing, you broke into tears again. 

You wailed and wailed and the stranger remained in place, his comforting hand stroking your shoulder until all your tears dried up and you just hiccuped like a child who just had a tantrum.

You finally felt calmer, but embarrassment was settling in.

“It’s going to be okay.” said the stranger, his sweet voice resonating through your head and making any embarrassment die down.

Looking at his eyes again, now calmer than before, you could feel something. A gentle tug, a pull from your… heart?

Your eyes widened. According to the headmaster, this meant that this guy was your soulmate.

As if he could read your mind, he murmured:

“I think we might be soulmates.”

You tried to speak, but instead a hiccup left your mouth.

The stranger put a hand in his pocket and took out a white handkerchief, using it to gently dab at your eyes.

“Do not cry, soulmate. It will be alright. I’m here for you.”

And he smiled. A smile so soft it felt criminal to be the cause of it.

Your hiccups finally settled, you thanked him.

“Thank you, …?”

“Silver. My name is Silver.”

Rook 

The mark on your wrist was of a bow and arrow, poised to hit its mark with staggering accuracy, but more in the way a Cupid would hit its mark, a piercing of the soul and not of the flesh.

For the first time since you had come to NRC, you had Crowley's permission to head to the local town in this mysterious isle.

You had missed the hustle and bustle of strangers of different ages, of being a face in a crowd with no connection, even if at every turn you could spot the tell tale uniform of NRC.

Wandering through the town, starry-eyed and distracted, you tripped on someone’s foot and fell,  grabbing onto them and making them fall too.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

You quickly got up and offered him a hand, but he refused, getting up on his own.

“You dirtied my uniform shirt!!” he screamed at you, a frown etched onto his features.

From the color of his vest and his peerless complexion, you knew he was a Pomefiore student.

“I’m really sorry. I’ll clean it-”

He looked you up and down and sneered.

“I should have noticed immediately. You’re the magicless half a student of that rundown dorm. No need for you to touch my uniform. Your filthy hands will only dirty it further.”

Rage filled you to the brim, and you were about to give him a piece of your mind, when an arrow passed through you both and landed on his vest, right above his shoulder.

“What do we have here? An altercation between our Trickster and Monsieur étudiant? What seems to be the problem?”

A man spoke from behind you, his voice close to your ear.

The student in front of you turned as pale as a ghost.

“Vice-house warden Rook! T-t-there’s no problem! None at all! I was actually leaving to take care of my dirty uniform!”

He scurried away, not even looking back.

“What a difficile Monsieur. Such cruel words for something so little.”

You turned back, seeing a blond man with a bow and a quiver filled with arrows, a gentle smile decorating his sharp features.

“Thank you for saving me. He was being really horrible for no reason.”

He reached over to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, and you felt your heart pulse erratically beat in your chest.

“Non, non. It was my pleasure to save you, soulmate.”

Trey

The mark on your wrist was of a playing card, three green clovers dotting its white space, comfortably in each place, pieces of a puzzle missing a hidden piece, to be found by itself and no one else.

The campus of NRC was a truly gigantic thing. It felt so labyrinthic, paths and more paths crossing with each other and becoming one or diverging into many, butterfly wings of concrete and bricks.

Getting to each class felt like a wild expedition. Where would each corridor lead you next?

You mostly relied on asking others, but in a school full of villains not many would tell you the way, or worse, not many would tell you the right way.

You stared at the edge of a corridor, no path to “turn left” like that student from Scarabia had told you.

Frustration bubbled inside you and rose up, small tears threatening to slip from your eyes, but you held strong, and kept them trapped.

You turned back around and started your scavenge for your classroom again, tracing your steps to the entrance of the school building.

You counted each step in your mind, walking backwards but sometimes looking back to make sure you were going the right way.

You didn’t even register the change in the deafening silence around you, so concentrated you were.

A pair of steps became two, and as you were about to look back, your face collided with a wall covered in fabric.

You exhaled a quick “ow”, pinching your sore nose, closed eyes watery.

“That was quite the hit. Do you need some ice?” asked the wall.

Opening said watery eyes revealed that the wall was in fact, a person.

A tall man, green hair and glasses and a worried expression.

His worry for you made you feel strangely happy.

“I don’t think I need it, but thank you. Oh! But I do need your help with something else.”

You scrambled to explain to him your problem.

“Ah, so you need to go to animal linguistics class. It’s really close by. I can take you there.”

His smile was so mature, it made you feel like you could rely on him for anything. He couldn’t be lying.

“Thank you so much, senpai!” 

Giving him your brightest smile, you followed after him, your heart soaring with happiness, the mark on your wrist so defined it looked like a fresh tattoo.

He’d let you notice it for yourself.

Sebek

The mark on your wrist was of a crocodile curled around a beautiful dark rose, its piercing gaze and ferocious fangs turned to any who dare harm it, but rather than animalistic, it felt noble, like a knight protecting its liege.

The horses of the equestrian club were magnificent things, varied coats and manes and tempers, all in (sometimes not so) clean packages.

You liked observing them, their manes floating in the wind, some of them unruly, some of them as docile as a house cat, as their riders took them around and around the race track, perfecting their skills as you watched from afar.

But curiosity had gotten the best of you one day, and you decided to approach the stables.

Sneaking in right after practice, the tired horses were resting on their wooden homes, the smell of hay and horse dung infiltrating your nostrils and making you gag, but you were already here, so why stop now?

You didn’t dare to approach too much, but being this close to them made you feel better. Even in this weird magical place, some things were the same.

A loud sound came from behind you, and you felt yourself freeze. The main door to the stable had opened.

Louder than the first sound, a voice yelled from behind you.

“WHO IS THERE? NO ONE IS ALLOWED IN THE HORSE STABLES AFTER PRACTICE!”

You slowly turned around, coming face to face with a tall light green haired man, his expression serious, frightening and yet also ethereal.

“I’m really sorry! I know I shouldn’t be here, but I got really curious and really wanted to see the horses.” you explained.

“THAT IS NO EXCUSE! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN SEVERELY HURT, HUMAN.”

Even though he had approached you, he was still screaming loudly, making you flinch.

The horses didn’t seem to mind, perhaps used to his booming voice.

His tone wasn’t the nicest, but it didn't feel mean either. It was a strange mixture of emotions that neither of you were entirely sure of.

“You’re correct. I sincerely apologize.”

He kept his hardened posture and gaze, but an almost imperceptible twinkle in his eye told you that he appreciated the apology.

“IF YOU EVER WANT TO SEE THE HORSES, YOU NEED TO ASK TO BE ACCOMPANIED BY A MEMBER OF THE EQUESTRIAN CLUB. AS A GUARD OF LORD MALLEUS AND A MEMBER OF THE EQUESTRIAN CLUB, I WILL DO MY DUTY AS BEFITTING OF ONE OF HIS KNIGHTS AND ACCOMPANY YOU IF YOU SO WISH.”

That was unexpected. The screaming, lightning eyebrowed boy that had the expression of someone with extreme constipation wished to accompany you. What a strange and wonderful thing.

“Then, Knight of Lord Malleus, I accept your offer. Next time you’ll have to show me around the stables and let me meet all the horses.”

You gave him your brightest smile, and watched as the tips of his ears turned pink.

In the dim light of the stable, neither noticed the intricate design on their wrist become fully inked, its splendor in full bloom.

Kalim 

The mark on your wrist was of a beautiful exotic carpet, gold, red and purple thread intermingled to create an embroidered tapestry, who instead of laying flat or being rolled on its side, looked ready to soar into the sun. 

Potions class always made you feel like some sort of ancient magic bearer, living by a bog and making frog stew.

It simultaneously felt mindless and stimulating, being so precise with temperature and ingredients and color of the potion but also mandating that you stir a pot for 10 minutes while looking for a color change from burgundy to pale red.

It all took ages to perfect, and a second to explode on your face.

You stirred the pot, your mind already outside of the classroom and in the lunchroom, boredom and hunger fueling daydreams of snacks.

You almost even wished for something to explode, just so you wouldn’t be as bored out of your mind.

Like the universe had read your mind, a loud thwack echoed from the window beside you, scaring you out of your mind, your arm moving on its own and accidentally elbowing your cauldron, the whole thing spilling on the floor, a goey slippery mess of red and chopped ingredients.

From the other side of the room, Professor Crewel gave you a look that said it all.

A thorough scolding later, and your after class lunchroom plans were dashed, as the bubbling mess of a potion on the floor was your mess to clean.

You sighed, but armed with a mop and some cleaning solution, you’d deal with it.

Looking at the window that had started it all, your eyes widened, seeing what you assumed to be the perpetrator of the loud sound still there waving at you.

It was some sort of a rug? And it was waving at you? But the strangest part of it all, is that you felt like you recognized this rug, like one recognizes a friend lost in a crowd.

You stared back down at the spilled potion, wondering if in its liquid state it caused some sort of hallucinations.

Your contemplations of your state of mind were interrupted by the door to the classroom loudly opening, and someone exclaiming:

“Found you!”

Turning back, you saw a silver haired youth barreling towards you and the spilled potion.

“Wait, watch out-“ you warned, but it was too late, as the young man was already with one foot on the puddle and the other in the air, his body directly projected towards you.

“waaaAAAAAHHH” he screamed as he fell on you, squishing you against the ground.

He quickly got on his elbows, looking down on you with an easy going smile.

“Oh, hi there! Sorry for falling on you. But my carpet flew away and Jamil would be super mad if he found out so I’ve been searching for it everywhere.”

You blinked slowly, the whole situation feeling like a fever dream.

You should be more appalled at whatever just happened, but seeing this stranger's smiling face made you feel soft.

Everything dictated that he should get off of you, but strangely you didn’t want him too.

A light turned on in your head, and you peaked at your wrist, the once slightly faded mark a vibrant work of art, like a freshly painted portrait.

Your eyes met the smiling strangers' red ones, and you smiled back at him.

“I think I already found the carpet.”

[w1w2]

When the First Snow Falls

Winter x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 7k

Synopsis: In the heart of winter, Y/N finds herself haunted by memories of Minjeong, the love she lost to her own neglect. When a chance encounter at a Christmas market rekindles their connection, Y/N must confront her past mistakes and prove she’s changed.

EXO– 첫 눈 "1년 전으로 갈 수 있다면 지금 우린 달라졌을까"

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

Y/N stood by the large, frost-kissed window of her apartment, the warmth of the room a stark contrast to the wintry chill outside. Snowflakes, delicate and intricate, fell from the sky, blanketing the city in a soft white layer. The sight was mesmerizing, yet it filled her with an ache she couldn’t shake. It was the first snow of the season—just like that night a year ago.

The city below was alive with holiday cheer. Strings of twinkling lights adorned every lamppost, and garlands wrapped tightly around railings and storefronts. Families hurried along the streets, their laughter and chatter carried upward by the crisp winter air. Y/N’s gaze fell on a child tugging a small sled behind her, her scarf flapping as she ran to keep up with her parents. The joy in the air seemed to mock the quiet solitude of her apartment, the silence so heavy it felt alive.

Y/N sipped from a steaming mug of hot cocoa, its sweetness unable to soothe the bitterness of her thoughts. 

Kim Minjeong.

Even thinking the name was enough to make her chest tighten. She turned away from the window and set the mug down on the counter, her fingers lingering on its warmth. The snow had stirred a flood of memories—moments she both cherished and dreaded. She wished she could savor them without the accompanying sting of regret.

Her reflection in the glass caught her eye, and she frowned at the image of herself. The soft, heart-shaped face she was known for felt foreign in moments like this. It was hard to reconcile the bubbly, outgoing girl the world loved with the person staring back at her—a person weighed down by guilt and longing. Her hair, dyed a warm shade of brown for the season, framed her face in soft waves, but even its vibrance seemed muted in the pale light of the snow.

Minjeong had loved her hair. She remembered how Minjeong’s small hands would absentmindedly play with it, weaving little braids or simply running her fingers through it. 

Stop. 

Y/N shut her eyes tightly, willing herself to push the memory away. But it lingered, stubborn and vivid. Memories had a way of finding her on days like this, unbidden and relentless.

She couldn’t deny the truth anymore—she had taken Minjeong for granted. Her relentless schedule, the whirlwind of her rising career, had consumed her. She’d always thought there’d be time, always assumed Minjeong’s love would be steadfast, unshaken by her absence. But love wasn’t invincible. Minjeong had tried to tell her, to show her through the quiet sadness in her eyes and the spaces between their conversations. Y/N just hadn’t been listening.

The thought of that final night sent a shiver through her. She’d replayed it countless times in her head, wishing for a different ending, one where she hadn’t let her pride or fear stop her from reaching out. But regret didn’t rewrite history—it only lingered, feeding on her solitude.

Her gaze drifted back to the window. Snowflakes danced in the golden glow of the streetlights, their patterns chaotic yet beautiful. The world was transformed, each imperfection hidden beneath a pristine blanket. It reminded her of how things had been with Minjeong at the start—perfect, or at least it had felt that way. She’d been so sure of their forever.

Y/N reached for her phone on the counter. Her fingers hovered over the screen, tempted to type out a message she’d drafted and deleted too many times to count. What could she say now, after all this time? “I’m sorry”? It felt inadequate. “I miss you”? True, but also painfully obvious. She set the phone down with a sigh, her chest tightening with frustration.

The truth was, she wasn’t sure Minjeong would even want to hear from her. After everything, could she blame her if she didn’t? Y/N had hurt her, unintentionally but deeply, and she didn’t know if words could ever mend what she’d broken. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the chill that seeped into her thoughts despite the heat of the room.

Outside, the snow continued to fall, piling on windowsills and frosting tree branches. It had a strange way of making everything feel still and silent, even in the bustling city. Y/N let herself be still for a moment, her thoughts slowing as she watched the snow. Somewhere out there, Minjeong was seeing this same snowfall, perhaps feeling the same chill, or maybe she was wrapped in someone else’s warmth now. The thought twisted like a knife in Y/N’s chest, but she forced herself to face it.

She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring or if she’d ever find the courage to send that message, to say what her heart had been screaming for the past year. But for now, she stayed by the window, letting the snow and the memories wash over her. It was painful, but it was hers—every regret, every smile, every laugh that echoed in her mind.

Winter had always been her favorite season. Now, it was a reminder of what she’d lost. But maybe, just maybe, it could also be a reminder of what she still had the power to reclaim.

She drew a shaky breath, her fingers brushing the frost-laced windowpane. The snow outside blurred as her thoughts drifted deeper into the past. No matter how much she tried to live in the present, this season always carried her back to those moments—the ones she could replay vividly, down to the smallest details.

Her gaze unfocused, the bustling cityscape faded, replaced by another time, another place. She could almost hear the laughter and music, see the twinkling lights reflected in Minjeong’s eyes.

It had all begun one December evening, at a small community hall that smelled of cinnamon and fresh pine…

Flashback

The lively hum of chatter and laughter filled the community hall, its walls adorned with festive garlands and twinkling lights. The annual Christmas charity event was in full swing, and Y/N was there as part of her agency’s outreach initiative. She adjusted her red Santa hat, a playful accessory that matched her outfit, as she carried a tray of cookies to the refreshment table.

“Careful, or the cookies might outshine your smile,” a voice chimed from behind her. Y/N turned, catching sight of Minjeong. Petite, radiant, and sporting a mischievous grin, Minjeong was dressed in a cozy green sweater adorned with tiny reindeer patterns. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, and her sparkling eyes danced with mischief.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Is that your way of asking for one? You could’ve just said please.”

Minjeong’s grin widened. “I could’ve, but where’s the fun in that?”

Their banter was lighthearted, the kind that flowed naturally, as though they’d known each other far longer than the few minutes they’d exchanged pleasantries. As the event progressed, they found themselves gravitating toward each other. Between serving refreshments and wrapping gifts for children, they discovered shared interests—love for music, a penchant for adventure, and a mutual appreciation for the joy the season brought.

The highlight of the evening came when Minjeong took to the small stage to sing Christmas carols. Her voice, clear and melodic, captivated the room. Y/N found herself mesmerized, her heart skipping as Minjeong’s gaze briefly found hers mid-song. When the song ended and the applause erupted, Minjeong hopped off the stage and returned to Y/N’s side.

“Well?” Minjeong asked, her tone teasing. “Do I pass your very high standards?”

Y/N chuckled, her cheeks warm. “You’re decent. Maybe a solid eight out of ten.”

“Eight?” Minjeong feigned indignation. “I’ll have to work harder to impress you.”

“You’re welcome to try,” Y/N quipped, already wondering when she’d see Minjeong again.

The next few weeks became a whirlwind of shared moments. Their first official “date” happened almost by accident, a spontaneous decision to grab hot chocolate after running into each other at the skating rink. They laughed over their inability to stay upright on the ice, Minjeong’s soft laughter ringing in Y/N’s ears long after the night ended.

From there, their relationship blossomed like the lights decorating the city. They built snowmen in the park, hands brushing as they sculpted the frosty figures. They explored Christmas markets, their fingers laced together as they navigated stalls selling everything from handmade ornaments to steaming cups of mulled cider. On quiet nights, Minjeong would hum Christmas carols, her voice a soothing balm as they curled up on Y/N’s couch, a tangle of blankets and limbs.

Y/N couldn’t pinpoint when she fell for Minjeong—perhaps it was gradual, like the way snow blankets the earth overnight, unnoticed until morning. All she knew was that Minjeong made everything brighter, warmer. Being with her felt like stepping into sunlight after days of gray skies.

Two years into their relationship, the festive magic they had shared began to fade, not from a lack of love but from the strain of Y/N’s growing career. Her schedule became relentless, each day packed with rehearsals, interviews, and appearances. At first, Minjeong was understanding, her optimism unwavering. She would wait patiently for Y/N to come home late, greeting her with a tired smile and warm embrace.

“I know you’re doing this for your dreams,” Minjeong would say, her voice soft yet reassuring. “I’m proud of you.”

But the cracks began to show. Y/N missed small but significant moments—a dinner date they’d planned for weeks, a family gathering where Minjeong had wanted Y/N to meet her cousins. Minjeong never voiced her disappointment directly, but Y/N could see it in her eyes, the way her smiles began to lose their spark.

One evening, as they sat on the couch in silence, Y/N scrolling through her phone while Minjeong watched the twinkling lights of the city, Minjeong finally spoke.

“Do you ever feel like we’re drifting apart?” Minjeong’s voice was soft, almost hesitant.

Y/N looked up, startled by the question. “What? No. Of course not. Why would you think that?”

Minjeong’s fingers traced the edge of her mug, her gaze fixed downward. “I just… I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like I’m not part of your world anymore. Like I’m an afterthought.”

The words hit Y/N like a punch, but she didn’t know how to respond. She opened her mouth, then closed it, fumbling for the right thing to say. Minjeong didn’t press further, but the weight of her words lingered between them.

The cracks widened as December approached. Y/N missed yet another date, this time at a winter festival they had been looking forward to. Minjeong had waited, bundled up against the cold, her breath visible in the frosty air, until the lights dimmed and the crowds dispersed. When Y/N finally called, hours later, Minjeong answered with a calmness that only deepened Y/N’s guilt.

“I know you’re busy,” Minjeong said, her voice devoid of accusation. “But I don’t know how much longer I can keep waiting.”

It was the first time Minjeong had given voice to the hurt that had been building for months. Y/N apologized, promising to do better, to make it up to her. But promises alone couldn’t mend the growing distance between them.

End of the Flashback

Y/N blinked back tears as she sat on the edge of her bed, the weight of the memories pressing heavily on her chest. She could still see Minjeong’s face that night, illuminated by the glow of the Christmas lights, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and sadness.

“I should have tried harder,” Y/N whispered to herself, her voice breaking. But words spoken into the emptiness of her apartment couldn’t change the past.

The weight of those memories pressed against her chest like a vice. Y/N leaned her forehead against the cool glass, her breath fogging the window as she exhaled. No matter how much time had passed, the ache hadn’t faded; it had simply settled, becoming a part of her. And at the heart of it all was that night—a night she couldn’t forget, no matter how much she tried.

Christmas Eve. The falling snow had been just as gentle, just as beautiful, but it hadn’t brought peace. Instead, it marked the moment everything unraveled.

Flashback

Christmas Eve arrived with a quiet kind of beauty. Snow drifted lazily from the sky, blanketing the streets in white and muffling the sounds of the city. Y/N had promised Minjeong they’d spend the evening together—just the two of them. For once, there were no excuses, no distractions, no last-minute cancellations.

She’d arrived late, but Minjeong had greeted her at the door with a soft smile and a tired look in her eyes. They’d exchanged pleasantries, but the warmth between them felt strained, like a thread pulled too tightly.

The apartment smelled of pine and cinnamon, and the Christmas tree in the corner glowed softly with twinkling lights. Beneath it sat a handful of neatly wrapped presents, the fruits of Minjeong’s careful planning. Y/N hadn’t even had the chance to wrap hers yet. She told herself she’d do it after dinner.

They sat on the couch, mugs of hot cocoa in hand, the space between them feeling wider than ever. Minjeong broke the silence first.

“Y/N,” she began, her voice steady but quiet, “can I ask you something?”

Y/N turned to her, startled by the serious tone. “Of course. What’s wrong?”

Minjeong hesitated, her gaze fixed on the steam rising from her mug. She seemed to be gathering her thoughts, weighing every word before speaking.

“Are you happy?” she asked finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

The question caught Y/N off guard. “What? Of course I’m happy. Why would you even ask that?”

Minjeong’s lips curved into a small, sad smile. “You say that, but sometimes… it feels like I’m not part of that happiness. Like you’re happy everywhere else—in your work, with your friends—but not here. Not with me.”

The words hit Y/N like a punch to the gut. “Minjeong, that’s not true. I—” She faltered, struggling to find the right words.

Minjeong shook her head gently, her expression unreadable. “You don’t have to say anything. I just… I need to say this.”

Setting her mug down on the table, she turned fully to face Y/N. The glow of the tree lights reflected in her eyes, making them shine even as her voice trembled. “I’ve been trying to hold on. For a long time, I told myself it was enough—your little notes, the times you made it to dinner, the way you always made me laugh when we were together. But Y/N… I feel like I’m always waiting for you.”

Y/N stared at her, words caught in her throat.

“I’m not blaming you,” Minjeong continued, her voice soft but firm. “I know how much you’ve worked for your dreams, and I’m proud of you. I’ve always been proud of you. But I’ve spent so much time trying to fit into your world that I don’t even know where I belong anymore. And that scares me.”

The pain in her voice was undeniable, and Y/N’s heart ached at the sight of Minjeong’s composure beginning to crack.

“I never meant to make you feel like that,” Y/N said finally, her voice barely audible. “I love you, Minjeong. I really do.”

Minjeong gave a sad smile, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I know you do. But sometimes love isn’t enough if it doesn’t feel like it’s being shown.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Y/N wanted to say more, to beg Minjeong to stay, to promise she’d do better. But the words wouldn’t come.

Minjeong stood, her movements slow and deliberate, as if giving Y/N a chance to stop her. But Y/N remained frozen, paralyzed by her own fear and uncertainty.

“I think I need some time,” Minjeong said softly, picking up her coat from the back of the chair. “To figure out who I am without waiting for someone else.”

She hesitated at the door, her hand resting on the handle. For a moment, Y/N thought she might turn around, might say something to undo the finality of her words. But Minjeong only looked back, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and love.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” she said, her voice breaking slightly.

And then she was gone, the door closing behind her with a soft click.

Y/N sat in the stillness, the twinkling lights of the tree casting faint shadows around the room. The mug of cocoa sat untouched on the table, its steam long since vanished.

She pressed her hands to her face, the reality of the moment crashing down on her like the snow outside. Minjeong was gone, and Y/N had no one to blame but herself.

End of the Flashback

The first snow of the season had been falling that night, too, soft and unrelenting. Just like now.

Y/N’s eyes lingered on the snow swirling outside her window, each flake catching the streetlights like tiny stars. A year had passed, yet the pain felt as fresh as the chill in the air. She closed her eyes, willing herself to move, to do something other than sit in the stillness of her apartment.

Moments later, she found herself bundling up in her coat and scarf, her boots crunching against the icy pavement as she stepped outside. The cold bit at her cheeks, but she welcomed it—it was better than the suffocating warmth of her solitude.

The park wasn’t far, and as she walked, memories tugged at her with every step. The snow fell heavier now, the quiet of the night broken only by the faint hum of the nearby Christmas market. When she reached the park, it was as if no time had passed at all.

Her gaze drifted to a familiar bench, the one tucked under a towering oak tree now dusted with snow. It was here, beneath these same branches, that Minjeong had kissed her for the first time. Snowflakes had clung to Minjeong’s lashes that day, and she’d laughed when Y/N had gently brushed them away.

The memory was both beautiful and painful, a bittersweet ache in her chest. Y/N paused by the bench, her gloved fingers brushing the backrest as if it might still hold some trace of that moment. But the cold, empty wood only deepened her sense of loss.

A year.

It had been an entire year since Minjeong had walked out of her apartment, leaving behind a silence that no amount of holiday cheer could fill. Y/N had tried to move forward, but her steps always seemed to circle back to the same memories, the same regrets.

She lowered herself onto the bench, brushing away the snow before sitting. From her coat pocket, she pulled out a small notebook, its edges worn from weeks of being carried around. Flipping to the last page, she reread the letter she had written—her thousandth attempt, it felt like—to Minjeong.

Minjeong,

I don’t even know where to begin. For the past year, I’ve been haunted by the things I didn’t say, the moments I let slip through my fingers. You always said I had a way with words, but now, when they matter most, I feel like I have none that are worthy of you.

I took you for granted, Minjeong. I see that so clearly now. I thought love alone would be enough, that you would understand my silences and forgive my absences because my heart was still yours. But love is more than feelings. It’s actions, presence, and choices—and I failed you in all of those ways.

Every memory we shared is etched into my mind like the first snow on pavement. I can still hear your laughter at the Christmas market, feel the warmth of your hand in mine on those freezing nights, and see the way your eyes lit up when you sang. You were my light, my safe place, and yet I dimmed you with my neglect.

I remember that night—Christmas Eve. I remember the look in your eyes when you told me you felt like you were always waiting for me. I should have stopped you, begged you to stay, promised to do better. But I was a coward, Minjeong. I let my fear of failure keep me from holding on to the best thing that ever happened to me. And for that, I am so deeply sorry.

The truth is, you were never an afterthought to me. You were my first thought in the morning and my last before I fell asleep. I just didn’t know how to show it. I got so caught up chasing my dreams that I forgot to nurture the one dream that mattered most—you and me.

I’ve spent the past year trying to understand myself and the ways I failed you. I don’t blame you for leaving, and I don’t expect you to forgive me. But if there’s even the smallest chance to try again, I promise to be better—to show you every single day how much you mean to me.

You are the love of my life, Minjeong. You always have been, and you always will be.

Forever yours,

Y/N

Y/N traced the words with her gloved finger, her heart aching with the weight of her feelings. She had written the letter weeks ago but couldn’t bring herself to send it. The fear of rejection held her back, a barrier she couldn’t seem to cross.

Folding the notebook closed, she slipped it back into her pocket and rose from the bench. The park’s stillness felt too heavy, pressing down on her chest, and she needed to move. She headed toward the Christmas market, hoping the bustling energy might distract her, even just for a little while.

Y/N’s boots crunched softly in the snow as she wandered through the Christmas market, the glow of fairy lights wrapping the stalls in warmth. The air was rich with the smell of roasted chestnuts and spiced cider, but it did little to settle the growing unease in her chest. Everywhere she looked, there were reminders of Minjeong—bright ornaments they used to pick out together, couples laughing over steaming cups of cocoa, and even a stall selling reindeer figurines like the one Minjeong had loved so much.

And then she saw her.

At first, Y/N thought she was imagining it. Her breath hitched, her feet faltering as her eyes locked onto the figure standing by a stall of painted figurines. Minjeong. She was unmistakable, her blonde hair tucked into a knitted beanie, her long camel coat dusted with snow. She stood with a small reindeer figurine in her hands, tilting her head slightly as if trying to decide whether to buy it.

Y/N’s pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out the noise of the market. She hadn’t seen Minjeong in a year, not since that night. She hadn’t planned to see her now, but there she was, so close and yet so distant. For a brief moment, Y/N considered slipping away, retreating before Minjeong noticed her. But then Minjeong turned, her gaze sweeping the crowd—and froze when their eyes met.

Minjeong blinked, her expression guarded, the hint of a smile faltering as recognition dawned. Her fingers tightened around the figurine she was holding, and she took a small step back, as if trying to decide whether to stay or leave.

“Minjeong,” Y/N said, her voice barely audible above the market’s hum.

Minjeong didn’t answer right away. Her lips parted, but the words seemed caught somewhere between her thoughts and her tongue. When she finally spoke, her tone was measured, almost cautious. “Y/N… hi.”

The air between them was heavy, a mixture of surprise, unease, and something unspoken. Y/N took a tentative step closer, her hands stuffed deep in her coat pockets to steady their trembling. “I… I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Minjeong’s smile was polite but distant. “It’s a small city,” she said simply. Her gaze flickered briefly to the stall, then back to Y/N. “Are you… here alone?”

Y/N nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. Just taking a walk, I guess. What about you?”

“Same,” Minjeong said, her voice softer now. She held up the figurine, the small reindeer painted in bright reds and greens. “I always liked coming here this time of year. It feels… familiar.”

Y/N’s heart clenched. She wanted to say something, anything to bridge the growing tension between them, but the words wouldn’t come. All she could think about was how different Minjeong seemed—still warm and kind, but guarded, as though she were holding herself together with careful precision.

There was a beat of silence before Y/N spoke again, her voice tentative. “Minjeong… I know this is unexpected, but… would you have time to talk? Just for a little while?”

Minjeong hesitated, her fingers tracing the edge of the figurine. Her gaze lingered on Y/N’s face, searching for something—sincerity, maybe, or a reason to walk away. Finally, she let out a small sigh, her shoulders softening slightly.

“Okay,” she said quietly, placing the figurine back on the stall’s table. “But just for a little while.”

Y/N’s breath caught, relief flooding her chest as she nodded quickly. “There’s a café nearby,” she said. “It’s quiet. We can talk there.”

Minjeong hesitated for another moment, then nodded, her expression unreadable. She paid for the figurine, tucking it carefully into her bag before turning back to Y/N. “Lead the way.”

As they walked side by side through the snow-dusted streets, the tension between them was palpable. Y/N’s mind raced with everything she wanted to say, but she kept silent, stealing glances at Minjeong. Minjeong, for her part, seemed lost in thought, her steps slow and deliberate.

When they reached the café, Y/N held the door open, and Minjeong stepped inside, pausing to glance at her briefly. There was something in her eyes—hesitation mixed with a flicker of the warmth Y/N remembered so well. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep hope alive.

They were greeted by a cheerful barista who directed them to a cozy corner table near the window. Outside, snow continued to fall, muffling the sounds of the bustling Christmas market.

Y/N ordered two hot cocoas, her hands trembling slightly as she handed her card to the cashier. She wasn’t sure if it was the cold or the nervous energy coursing through her. As they waited for their drinks, Minjeong removed her coat and settled into the chair opposite Y/N, her expression calm but guarded.

“So,” Minjeong began, her fingers tracing the rim of the small ceramic sugar bowl on the table. “What did you want to talk about?”

Y/N took a deep breath, her chest tightening. The moment felt fragile, as if one wrong word might shatter the delicate balance between them.

“First, I just… I want to say I’m sorry,” Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. “For everything. For not being there for you the way I should have been. For making you feel like you weren’t important. I’ve thought about that night every single day since it happened, and I hate that I let you walk away.”

Minjeong’s gaze was steady, but she didn’t interrupt.

Y/N hesitated, her fingers curling around the edge of the table. “I know I can’t undo what I did, but I want you to know how much you meant to me—how much you still mean to me. I was so caught up in everything else that I didn’t see what was right in front of me. And by the time I realized, it was too late.”

The barista arrived with their hot cocoas, breaking the tension momentarily. Y/N murmured a quiet thank you, her hands wrapping around the warm mug for comfort.

Minjeong stirred her drink slowly, her spoon clinking softly against the ceramic. “You really hurt me, Y/N,” she said finally, her voice soft but firm.

Y/N’s heart sank, guilt washing over her like a tide. “I know,” she said. “And I hate myself for it.”

Minjeong’s expression softened slightly, though her eyes still held a trace of sadness. “I’ve spent the past year trying to understand what went wrong. At first, I blamed myself—maybe I wasn’t enough, maybe I should have tried harder. But the truth is, I forgot to prioritize myself. I spent so much time waiting for you that I lost sight of my own needs.”

Y/N swallowed hard, the weight of Minjeong’s words settling heavily in her chest. “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” she said. “But I want you to know that I’ve been working on myself, too. I’ve realized how much I took for granted, and I don’t ever want to make that mistake again. Not with you, not with anyone.”

Minjeong looked out the window, her gaze following the falling snow. For a moment, Y/N thought she might brush her off, politely decline any possibility of reconciliation. But then Minjeong turned back, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

“You know,” Minjeong said, her tone lighter, “you were pretty terrible at time management.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the comment. “That’s… fair,” she admitted, a small, nervous laugh escaping her.

Minjeong’s smile grew, and for the first time, the tension between them began to ease. “Do you remember that time you promised to meet me at the ice rink and showed up almost an hour late?”

Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Don’t remind me. I was so sure you were going to throw your skates at me.”

Minjeong chuckled, the sound warm and familiar. “I thought about it. But then you bought me hot chocolate and let me laugh at how terrible you were at skating. It was hard to stay mad after that.”

They both laughed, the sound filling the small corner of the café and pushing back the weight of unspoken pain.

As the conversation drifted to happier memories—snowball fights, late-night karaoke, and stolen kisses under the city lights—Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest that had nothing to do with the cocoa.

“I missed this,” Y/N said softly, her eyes meeting Minjeong’s. “I missed you.”

Minjeong’s smile faltered for a moment, her expression growing thoughtful. “I missed you too,” she admitted. “But missing someone doesn’t erase the hurt.”

Y/N nodded, her throat tightening. “I know. I just… I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make it right. If there’s even the smallest chance—”

Minjeong held up a hand, her gesture gentle but firm, stopping Y/N mid-sentence. “Let’s not rush anything,” she said softly. “I need to think about this—about us. But… I’m glad we talked.”

Y/N’s heart both soared and ached at her words. It wasn’t the immediate reconciliation she had secretly hoped for, but it wasn’t a rejection either. It was something—a fragile thread of possibility, a glimmer of hope.

As they finished their drinks and prepared to leave, Minjeong glanced at Y/N, her expression thoughtful. “You’ve changed,” she said quietly. “I can see that. And I’m glad. Just… give me time, okay?”

Y/N nodded, her voice catching slightly as she replied, “Sure. Take all the time you need.”

The café door jingled softly as they stepped out into the crisp evening air. The warmth of their conversation lingered between them, like a fragile cocoon shielding them from the bustling noise of the nearby Christmas market. The faint scent of roasted chestnuts and pine drifted toward them, but neither spoke, both lost in their own thoughts.

As they walked side by side, Y/N tilted her head back, noticing the way the streetlights illuminated the delicate flakes of snow. The sight stole her breath for a moment, and she murmured, “It’s snowing again.”

Minjeong stopped, lifting her gaze to the sky. A small smile formed on her lips as a flake landed on her cheek. “It is,” she said softly, her voice tinged with quiet wonder.

For a moment, they simply stood there, the snow drifting down around them, their breaths forming soft clouds in the chilled air. The world seemed to pause, leaving only the two of them in the golden glow of the streetlights. It felt surreal—like stepping back into a memory when things between them had been so easy, so effortless.

Y/N’s gaze fell on Minjeong, her heart clenching at the sight. Minjeong looked serene, the snow catching in her hair and on her lashes, the tension from earlier melting away. It reminded Y/N of the countless times she’d seen her like this, moments she had taken for granted. She wished she could freeze this one, hold it forever.

A sudden breeze swept through the street, and Minjeong instinctively reached out. Her gloved hand brushed against Y/N’s, and without hesitation, her fingers curled around Y/N’s, the gesture as natural and familiar as breathing.

Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. The warmth of Minjeong’s hand felt like a lifeline, pulling her back to a place she thought she’d lost forever. She tightened her grip slightly, as if afraid this fragile moment might slip away.

“Minjeong,” Y/N began, her voice soft but steady. She turned to face her fully, searching her eyes for any hint of what she might be feeling. “Do you… do you think we can start over?”

Minjeong blinked, her expression unreadable at first. Her fingers remained intertwined with Y/N’s, but she didn’t speak right away. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the gentle sound of snow falling around them.

Y/N felt her chest tighten, the weight of uncertainty pressing heavily on her. She was about to say something more, to explain, to plead, when Minjeong’s lips curved into a faint smile.

“You really don’t give up, do you?” Minjeong said, her tone light, laced with both amusement and something softer—something hopeful.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, a nervous laugh escaping her. “Not when it comes to you,” she said honestly.

Minjeong’s gaze softened, and for the first time that night, the walls around her seemed to lower. “I don’t know if it’s that simple,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “There’s a lot to figure out. A lot to rebuild.”

“I know,” Y/N said quickly, her grip on Minjeong’s hand firm but gentle. “I don’t expect it to happen overnight. I just… I want the chance to try. To show you that I’ve changed. That I can be better.”

Minjeong studied her for a long moment, her eyes holding a quiet intensity as the snowflakes fell around them. Finally, she nodded, her smile growing just a little. “Okay,” she said softly.

Y/N blinked, caught completely off guard by the response. “Wait… really?” she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Minjeong’s lips curved into an amused smile. “Don’t make me change my mind,” she teased lightly, though her tone carried warmth.

A laugh bubbled up in Y/N’s throat, a mixture of surprise and overwhelming relief. “I—I wasn’t expecting you to say yes so soon,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing.

Minjeong chuckled softly, her fingers still curled around Y/N’s. “Well, don’t get too ahead of yourself,” she said with a playful glint in her eyes. “It’s a tentative yes. We’ve got a lot to figure out.”

“I know,” Y/N said quickly, her voice steadier now. “But just hearing you say it… it means more than I can put into words.”

Minjeong’s expression softened, and she gave Y/N’s hand a small squeeze. “Then let’s start there.”

As they continued walking, still hand in hand, the snow fell heavier, blanketing the world around them in a clean, fresh start. For the first time in a year, Y/N felt like she could truly breathe again.

The evening unfolded like a dream. As the snow thickened and the market’s lights twinkled, Minjeong turned to Y/N with a thoughtful look. “Do you have plans for tonight?”

Y/N shook her head, her eyes bright with curiosity. “Not really.”

“Then…” Minjeong hesitated for only a moment before offering a small smile. “Would you like to come over? We can—well, I don’t know. Just spend Christmas Eve together?”

Y/N’s face lit up, her chest tight with gratitude and relief. “I’d love to,” she said softly.

Back at Minjeong’s apartment, the air was filled with the familiar scent of cinnamon and pine. The small space was cozy, adorned with fairy lights and a modest tree sitting in the corner, its decorations simple but warm. Y/N felt a pang of nostalgia as she took it all in, the setting so reminiscent of their past Christmases together.

“Help me with the tree?” Minjeong asked, holding up a box of ornaments.

Y/N nodded eagerly, her smile wide. “Of course.”

They fell into an easy rhythm, hanging ornaments and teasing each other about their differing tastes in decorations. Minjeong laughed when Y/N insisted on placing the slightly crooked star on top, calling it “quirky charm.”

Later, they moved to the kitchen, where Minjeong unearthed an old recipe for sugar cookies. The two of them worked side by side, the counters quickly becoming a mess of flour and frosting. Minjeong smeared a dollop of frosting on Y/N’s cheek, laughing at her exaggerated look of indignation before Y/N retaliated with a sprinkle shower.

After the cookies were baked, Y/N reached into her coat pocket, pulling out the letter she had carried with her for weeks. She hesitated for a moment, her heart racing, before offering it to Minjeong.

“I wrote this for you,” Y/N said softly, her voice trembling. “I didn’t know if I’d ever have the courage to give it to you, but… I want you to have it now.”

Minjeong unfolded the letter, her fingers trembling slightly as she smoothed the paper. Her eyes scanned the opening line, and a quiet sigh escaped her lips. Y/N’s handwriting hadn’t changed—slightly messy but earnest, the ink pressed deeply into the paper as if to anchor the words in place.

As she read, emotions washed over her in waves. The guilt, the sorrow, the yearning—they were all there, raw and unfiltered. Minjeong’s chest tightened when she reached the part about Christmas Eve, her mind instantly flashing back to that night. She had replayed it in her head countless times too, though she’d never admitted it to anyone. Hearing Y/N recount it now—acknowledging every hurtful moment—both soothed and reopened wounds she thought had healed.

Her fingers traced the words "you were my light," lingering as her breath caught in her throat. Y/N had never been good at voicing her feelings, and yet, here they were, laid bare in a way Minjeong had always longed for. Was this enough? Could this letter bridge the gap between them?

By the time she finished, tears blurred the ink slightly as she refolded the paper. Minjeong pressed it to her chest, her heart warring between cautious hope and lingering hurt. It wasn’t just the words that moved her—it was the vulnerability behind them, the promise that maybe, just maybe, Y/N had changed.

She looked up at Y/N, who sat across from her, nervously twisting her hands. Minjeong’s lips parted to speak, but for a moment, no words came. Instead, she reached out, placing the letter gently on the table between them. Her voice was soft but steady.

“You really poured your heart into this,” she said, her tone layered with both gratitude and uncertainty.

“I meant every word,” Y/N replied, her gaze steady. “I wanted you to know how much you mean to me. How much I regret letting you slip away.”

Minjeong nodded, folding the letter back and clutching it to her chest. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

Later that night, they ventured out into the park, retracing steps they had taken so many times before. The snow was heavier now, blanketing the world in a hushed stillness. As they reached the oak tree where they had shared their first kiss, Y/N stopped, turning to face Minjeong.

“I know I’ve said this a lot tonight,” Y/N began, her voice trembling with emotion. “But I need to say it again.”

She dropped to her knees in the snow, looking up at Minjeong with wide, earnest eyes. “Minjeong, I promise I will never take you for granted again. I will do everything I can to be the person you deserve, if you’ll let me.”

Minjeong stared at her, the snow catching in her hair and lashes, before a surprised laugh burst from her lips. “Y/N, get up! You’re going to freeze.”

Y/N laughed, feeling a surge of relief as Minjeong reached down to pull her to her feet. The next thing she knew, she was wrapped in a tight hug, Minjeong’s arms warm and steady around her.

“I missed you too,” Minjeong whispered, her voice barely audible but so full of emotion it made Y/N’s chest ache.

The night ended with the two of them curled up together on Minjeong’s couch, a thick blanket draped over their legs. The glow of the fairy lights bathed the room in a soft warmth, their gentle twinkle matching the rhythmic rise and fall of Minjeong’s breathing. Outside, the snow continued to fall, coating the streets in a quiet serenity that seemed to insulate them from the rest of the world.

Y/N glanced down at Minjeong, who was nestled against her shoulder, her golden hair brushing lightly against Y/N’s cheek. Minjeong’s eyes were half-closed, her expression peaceful, her hand resting lightly on Y/N’s arm. It was a sight Y/N thought she’d never see again, and it filled her chest with a warmth that no amount of holiday cheer could match.

“Thank you,” Y/N said softly, breaking the comfortable silence.

Minjeong stirred slightly, tilting her head up to meet Y/N’s gaze. “For what?” she murmured, her voice heavy with drowsiness.

“For giving me another chance,” Y/N replied, her voice trembling just enough to betray the depth of her emotions. She reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from Minjeong’s face with a tenderness that felt both familiar and achingly new.

Minjeong’s lips curved into a small, sleepy smile. “Merry Christmas, Y/N,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, but the words carried a weight that made Y/N’s heart swell.

“Merry Christmas,” Y/N replied, her voice steady but thick with emotion. For a moment, she hesitated, unsure if it was too much, too soon. But then, with a quiet breath, she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Minjeong’s forehead. Her lips lingered for just a moment, enough to feel Minjeong’s warmth beneath them.

Minjeong let out a soft hum of contentment, her eyes fluttering closed again as she leaned further into Y/N’s embrace. Y/N tightened her arm around her, as if to shield her from the world, her other hand finding Minjeong’s beneath the blanket. Their fingers intertwined naturally, the gesture grounding them both in the present.

The room was quiet, save for the faint crackle of the heater and the muffled sound of snowflakes brushing against the windowpane. Outside, the snow-covered streets glistened under the soft light of the moon, reflecting the hope that Y/N finally felt in her heart.

For the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to believe in the possibility of a future—one where they could rebuild, where every step would be taken together. And as she held Minjeong close, she silently vowed to never let her slip away again.

[1117-yungi]

SONG BIRD. jung wooyoung x fem!reader [4.8k]

in the infamous lounge, a singer performs for the one man who always breaks her heart — the untouchable owner. their reunions crackles with passion and pain. in his world of glittering façades, love is never enough, and you're left singing to ghosts of what could have been.

genre. rich!wooyoung, club owner!wooyoung, singer!reader, smut, angsty, toxic situationship, he is kinda insufferable but its hot, little porn with a lot of plot

warnings. toxic woo, swearing, manipulation, gaslighting, smut, pull-out method (don't do this guys), choking, switch!wooyoung, switch!reader, oral: m receiving, fingering, orgasm denial, pet names: songbird, angel, darling, baby, and bunny, hair pulling, praise and degradation, bittersweet ending, they're not good for each other guys!!!, size kink if u squint, implied dub-con tbh, power play dynamics, let me know if theres anymore!

note. hide the scissors from wooyoung rn

the dim haze of the lounge cast long shadows on the plush, velvet booths and the lacquered piano. smoke curled lazily in the air, mingling with the faint clink of glasses and the low hum of idle chatter. you stood beneath the spotlight, a figure draped in silver, your dress catching the low light like a thousand tiny stars. your voice pouring over the room like honey over jagged glass. the microphone in your hand felt heavy, but nothing was heavier than the weight in your chest as you sang.

each word slipped from your lips, the kind of voice that made people stop in their tracks, made them feel things they'd been too afraid to feel. your voice was sweet, but raspy in the best way possible — the crowd watched with newfound fascination, the other acts providing background music for the illegal activities. but you, you were the main act. though tonight, your eyes weren’t scanning the crowd. you weren't looking for applause. you were looking for him.

and there he sat in the corner, a million-dollar smile on his face, surrounded by men in sharp suits and women with sharp laughs and seductive stares. his watch gleamed under the dim light, a beacon of everything he was — untouchable, unattainable, a mirage with no end. but when your voice reached him, his head turned ever so slightly, like the string you had tied between them had just been tugged. his eyes had found yours.

you didn't falter, didn't let your emotions bleed into the lyrics. not yet.

you'd met him before, on nights much like this one, when the world seemed coated in gold and the air hummed with possibility. he was the kind of man you never really forgot; the man who walked into a room and owned it without hesitation. a man made of money, of charm, of tragedy.

tonight, though, there was something different in his gaze. as you sang the final note, he rose, leaving behind the world that adored him, the entourage, the whispers. he walked backstage towards where you were.

"you always knew how to break my heart," wooyoung murmured, his voice like bourbon, smooth but burning. it made you freeze in your tracks, turning your head towards the voice.

"and you always knew how to make me let you," you replied, your lips curving into a bittersweet, forced smile.

it was always the same between them. he was a million-dollar man, but his worth was his undoing. you were the girl who saw through it all and loved him anyway, knowing he could never stay.

"play me a song, darling," he said, his voice low, as if he knew this moment might be their last.

you didn’t ask why. you never did.

fingers trembling as the two of you sat down on the bench of the piano you had practiced at for ages. with a deep sigh, you played the melody that lived in your heart, the one you'd written for him long ago. the room around them disappeared, the crowd, the smoke, the lights. it was just them, a girl in silver and a man who carried the weight of the world in his eyes. even backstage, away from the crowd, it felt suffocating.

when the final note faded, he pressed his lips together in a firm, his tongue playing with the ring in his lip. he let his fingers ghost over the keys, not playing, just feeling. "you deserve better than this," he murmured, his gaze distant, his hands now stilling against one of the keys, his pinky grazing yours. "you deserve more than me, angel."

"and yet, here you are." you replied.

he laughed softly, the sound bittersweet yet intoxicating. "yeah. here i am."

for a moment, the world shrank to just the two of you, a singer and a man who could never be yours. he leaned in, his lips brushing your forehead, his warmth lingering even as he pulled away.

"you deserve better," wooyoung said again, softer this time. then, just like always, he was gone.

you stayed at the piano, staring at the spot where he'd sat, your heart aching but your resolve steady. your eyes moved up to the piano, staring at the empty glass he left behind. you hadn't even realized that he brought it with him. a tear slipped down your cheek, but you wiped it away, knowing you'd sing the song again tomorrow night.

for the million-dollar man who never really belonged to you, but who’d stolen your soul all the same.

the lounge felt heavier tonight, like the air itself was steeped in tension. the usual haze of smoke clung tighter, the shadows darker, the applause quieter. they all felt like ghosts, lingering echoes of the night before. and you, you were here again, draped in the same silver as always. you noticed your fingers trembling as you adjusted the microphone stand, your heart heavy with a burden only he could bring. you didn't bother scanning the crowd this time — you already knew he was here.

he always was, especially when you swore you wouldn't let him get to you again.

you hadn't seen him since last night, but you could still taste the remnants of his touch on your skin, still hear the soft murmur of his voice, still feel the weight of his words pressing on your chest. you deserve better than this. you deserve more than me, angel.

it was the same old routine. the promises of distance, the whisper of something more, followed by his sudden disappearance. but this time, there was something different in the air — a thick tension that gnawed at your insides, something you couldn't shake.

when the crowd settled into their usual spot, half-distracted by their own secrets, the music began. you took the stage like clockwork, the spotlight cutting through the gloom. the microphone felt colder tonight, like it was in on the game. as you sang, your voice wavered, only for a moment, when you caught his silhouette at the corner table.

but he wasn't alone this time.

she was draped across his arm, some attractive woman with a laugh like crystal shards, glittering and sharp. she leaned into him, whispering something that made him smirk — that signature smirk as he played with his lip ring. but those fox like eyes? oh, they were on you. they always were.

the song ended, and the crowd clapped, but you barely heard it. he was already standing, already moving toward you as his hands clapped for you; it seemed taunting. the woman that had previously accompanied at his table barely seemed to notice when he had left.

"you're something else tonight, angel," he murmured when he reached you, his voice low and familiar. the way he said angel made your stomach twist, equal parts longing and fury.

"don't start," you said, stepping down from the stage. you tried to walk past him, but his hand caught your wrist, firm but careful, like he knew exactly how far he could push.

"start what?" his lips curved into a crooked grin, but his grip didn't loosen. his gaze flicked to the other patrons around him, then back to you, something unreadable behind that cool, confident exterior. "just giving you a compliment. you look beautiful, as always."

you glared at him, yanking your arm free. "you should be telling her that."

his grin faltered for half a second, but it was enough to make you feel the smallest spark of satisfaction. still, he recovered quickly, his tone dropping into something softer, almost apologetic. almost.

"don’t tell me you're jealous."

you laughed bitterly, stepping back, needing space. "of her? no. of whatever hold you have on me? yeah, maybe."

wooyoung's expression shifted, the smirk giving way to something darker, sharper. he stepped closer, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "you're the one who keeps singing for me. what does that say, angel?"

you stiffened, trying to keep your gaze steady, but something inside you recoiled. that voice. that look. the way he made everything feel like it was slipping through your fingers, made you doubt your own choices. you wanted to hit him, to scream, to walk out and never come back. but the worst part? he wasn't wrong.

"you don’t own me," you said, your voice trembling, not with fear, but with anger — at him, at yourself, at everything.

he tilted his head, his smile softening, dangerous. "don't i?"

"i told you," he continued, his lips curling slightly as he drew away, taking a slow, deliberate sip from his glass. "i'm not here for anything long-term. you're not the kind of girl who gets a happy ending, not with me. but i do like the way you play along."

"play along?" you repeated, voice thick with disbelief. "is that what you think this is?"

his gaze darkened, though his smile never wavered. "you're a smart girl. you know exactly what this is. you always have." his eyes softened for a moment, almost like a mask slipping. like even he didn't believe the facade. "but don't get too attached. i'm not the one you should be putting your heart into."

a sharp, bitter laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it. you crossed your arms over your chest, feeling exposed, vulnerable in front of him. "i know who you are," you said, voice steady but laced with a cold edge. "i'm not an idiot."

"good," wooyoung said, still leaning in, but this time there was something colder in his touch when his fingers brushed yours. his eyes held that cruel, knowing gleam. "but don't act like you don't want to be a little bit more than this."

you didn't say anything. you couldn’t. because, despite everything you told yourself, part of you did want more. you were tired of the games, the lies, the promises that never meant anything. but another part of you… the part that still clung to that impossible hope, the part that still wanted him to be something better than what he showed the world… that part wouldn't let you walk away.

and he knew it.

you watched him turn on his heel, his expensive shoes clicking against the polished floor as he started to walk away. you felt the pull, the magnetism of him drawing you in even as you knew you should turn and leave.

but then, just before he disappeared into the crowd, he glanced back over his shoulder with that same smirk, the one that never quite reached his eyes. "i'’m not done with you yet, songbird," he called out, his voice dripping with that familiar, dangerous promise.

the next few hours dragged on like a blur of muted lights and endless faces. the lounge seemed to buzz louder, more insistent, as if the world were trying to drown out the weight of the space between you and him. but you couldn't escape it. not when you could still feel the pressure of his fingers on your skin, the weight of his words on your chest.

when you finally left the stage, the air around you felt too thin, too oppressive. you hadn't seen him leave, but you knew he was gone. you always knew. he didn't need to announce his exit. it was his absence that left you hollow.

you went to the dressing room to get out of your stage outfit and into your normal clothes. it was routine and becoming old, but you hadn't made an effort to leave. you pushed through the crowd of people, smiling at their empty compliments before freezing as you tried to excuse yourself by pushing past a patron.

but wooyoung was standing there, looking as if he'd never left. his dark eyes locked onto yours instantly, the room falling away as if it were just the two of you, frozen in time. the crowd moved around you, oblivious, but you couldn't stop looking at him. couldn't stop feeling the electric pull between you.

"you always do this," you murmured, half to yourself, though your words carried across the silence.

"do what?" he asked, his voice cool but laced with something dangerous. the smirk was back, that crooked grin that never seemed to falter, like he enjoyed the power he had over you. like he knew the exact moment to strike.

"you know what i mean," you said, trying to steady yourself. but your heart was racing, your pulse quickening as he stepped closer, narrowing the gap between you.

he reached out, fingertips brushing against the back of your hand — light, gentle, but the touch sent a shiver through you.

the heat between you, the tension that had built up all night, was palpable. it was always like this, when he came close. the air turned thick, suffocating, and you couldn't tell if you wanted to push him away or pull him closer. but you didn't have to decide. not yet.

he didn't wait for an invitation. without breaking eye contact, he reached out, a single finger brushing your arm — just enough to send a wave of electricity surging through your skin.

"come with me," he said simply. "i don't like waiting."

his eyes scanned your face, his gaze sharp, like he could see past every defense, every wall you'd tried to build around your heart. for a moment, he said nothing, just watching you. watching the battle in your eyes.

there was no hesitation. you knew what it meant when he said that. he wasn't asking. he was demanding — as always. you had learned long ago that when he made these kinds of demands, you couldn't say no, not really. but he always gave you an opportunity to for it.

"your friends won't like that," you said, a small attempt at playing it cool, but the words felt weak as they left your mouth. you knew it was pointless.

he raised an eyebrow. "the only person i'm interested in right now is you."

he didn't wait for you to respond. instead, he turned, almost arrogantly, like he owned the space around him, and without a word, you followed him. his presence was commanding, and you could feel the weight of it behind you. you kept your distance at first, though every step you took felt like it pulled you deeper into his orbit.

you clenched your fists, trying to fight the tremor in your hands, trying to ignore how badly your body was betraying you as you trailed behind him. you wanted to say something sharp, something cold, something that would break the connection between you. but he was already too close. his presence was too much, suffocating in the best way. and you followed him without question. god, you were weak.

"i'm not playing your games anymore, wooyoung," you said, your mouth moving faster than your thoughts could comprehend your voice wavered, and you cursed yourself for it.

he stopped in his tracks, about to reach the exit of the lounge. his lips quirked up at the corner, an almost fond smile creeping into his expression as if your defiance only made him more interested. "you say that, but you know you like it. you like the chase. the danger."

the words hit harder than they should have. you looked away, your chest tightening as he stepped even closer, until there was nowhere for you to go.

"then let me end it," he said, his voice quieter, and this time, there was no smirk, no cruel amusement. only an intensity that left your breath caught in your throat. "come with me." wooyoung looked like he would have gotten on his knees for you right then, pleading for you.

you opened your mouth to protest, to tell him to leave you alone for good, but the words wouldn’t come. so instead, you found yourself nodding, against your better judgment, against the part of you that knew this would only make things worse.

the crowd was still swirling around you, but it felt like you were in a different world. the moment he stepped closer, his hand grazing your arm as he guided you toward the exit, everything else faded. you were lost in him again.

no turning back.

the drive to his apartment was short but felt like hours. the silence between you was thick, suffocating, each passing second dragging you deeper into the inevitable. he hum of the engine only adding to the tension. you sat next to him, your hands gripping your bag tighter than necessary, the familiar burn in your chest threatening to crack you open. he didn't speak, didn’t ask you any questions. he just drove, as if this moment was already scripted. you were a part of the plan, whether you wanted to be or not. you couldn't stop your mind from racing, from thinking of everything you’d tried to ignore — the past you’d buried, the future you were too afraid to face.

when you reached the building, he didn't wait for you to say anything. his hand was on the small of your back, guiding you up the elevator without a word.

inside, his apartment was exactly what you remembered: sterile, cold, all glass and steel, but still holding that dangerous allure. the kind of space that made you feel insignificant, like a blip in a world too big for you to understand. the moment the door closed behind you, the outside world seemed to vanish. all that remained was the quiet atmosphere of his space and the man standing in front of you, looking at you as if you were the only thing that mattered, and the only thing he could destroy.

there was no pretense this time. no smiles. just that intensity that always left you breathless. he stepped toward you slowly, his gaze never leaving yours, until you were backed against the edge of the sleek, black sofa.

his hands reached for you, but this time, there was no game in his touch. it wasn't the same as it had been before, when he made you feel like a toy he could play with and discard. this was different. this was raw.

"you keep pretending you don't want this," he murmured, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw, his thumb lightly brushing your lips. "but you do."

you wanted to argue, wanted to push him away, but your body betrayed you again. the warmth of his touch, the deep pull of his presence, was too much to fight. you wanted to say no. you wanted to walk away.

but you didn't.

his lips were on yours before you could say anything else. a kiss that was all heat and demand, a kiss that made you forget everything but him. his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

and maybe, just maybe, you couldn’t get enough of him either.

you should have known better. you should have walked away when you had the chance. but instead, you stayed. you always did. his touch overwhelmed you completely, you couldn't bring yourself to fight it. because deep down, you knew you were already lost.

you grasp onto his expensive shirt, pulling him even closer until the two of you fall down onto his lavish couch. his lip ring felt cool against your soft lips, making your mind become foggy with pleasure. he chuckled into your mouth, as if he could tell you enjoyed his piercing. he adjusted the position, resting between your legs. your legs naturally wrap around his hips, making him rut into your clothed core. you gasped at the feeling, whining against his lips.

wooyoung pulled away from your lips, much to your dismay, before he started to kiss along your neck, biting down and sucking on the flesh to create a dark mark. you mewled at the feeling, your back arching off the couch as you grabbed onto him with a newfound aggression. he whimpered from how tight your hold was on his long hair, providing him with pain mixed with pleasure.

at this revelation, you tugged his head back by hair and returned the favor. you decorated his neck with dark marks, sucking harshly on his sweet spot, which was easy enough to find. his slutty hips rubbed against your core desperately, clearly enjoying the feeling as he moaned shamelessly while you felt his cock hardening.

he tried to take control of the situation again, but you didn't let him. you flipped the both of you around, now straddling him before ripping his shirt off by the buttons. he frowned, letting out a whine, "that was expensive, baby."

"you can afford it." you whispered with a grin on your face before taking one of his nipples into your mouth. he gasped at the sensitivity as your tongue swirled around his perky, hard nipple. wooyoung had never experienced anything like this, always being the dominant. and he certainly didn't expect you to be like this. what else are you hiding from him? after a few more moments of teasing him, you crawled down to where he needed you the most.

you tugged down his pants, leaving them pooling at his ankles. oh, he was big. somehow you knew that. you gave his tip a swift kitty lick, his body visibly shaking. his eyes stayed on yours as you shoot him an innocent bat of your eyelashes. "fuckin' brat," he whispered, reaching down to your hair while he whimpered while your tongue swirled around his tip, gathering the pre-cum that leaked out.

he brushed a few stray hairs away from your face as your mouth worked him up and down in perfect rhythm, bobbing up and down. one of your hands kneaded his thighs while the other played with his balls. wooyoung let out a desperate moan at the sudden touch, he hadn't even noticed how sensitive he really was. all for your touch. you were both drunk on each other — without any alcohol in your systems. besides his very few sips of whiskey.

your jaw was hurting, pleasurably stretched by his cock, but the sensation of his tip hitting the back of your throat was too addictive to care about the pain. you hollowed your cheeks, trying to fit every vein that popped out as wooyoung breathed heavily, holding back with all his might not to mouth-fuck you. he felt dumb from the pleasure, growing more and more needy and desperate.

"you're gonna make me cum if you keep doing this, angel," wooyoung laughed with a whine as your tongue glided against the underside of his length, sending goosebumps all over his body. unable to hold back any longer, he harshly yanked you down, forcing his entire length into your mouth, his tip deliciously hitting the back of your throat, making you gag.

you moaned at the sudden rough treatment as he rolled his hips into your mouth. despite the intensity, your tongue continued to lick and satisfy him, while he used your mouth like his personal toy, sending vibrations through your entire being.

you could feel him twitch inside you — he was almost there, ready to release. your hands pulled and kneaded his balls, giving them one cheeky little squeeze, pushing against them before pulling off of him, denying his orgasm.

wooyoung whined at the loss of your touch, pouting before raising up. he grabbed your throat and pulled you against his lips with an unmistakable hunger and desperation. he stripped off your clothes while kicking off his pants that you left. he picked you up with ease, carrying you into his room and onto the bed.

and then you ended up on his lap, with his long fingers stuffed deep inside you, curling and making a mess of you. you couldn't even remember how you had gotten into this position, too drunk and intoxicated on the feeling of his fingers hitting all the right spots. you rolled your hips eagerly, making him grin as he watched you with a smile on his face, clearly getting off on how he was making you feel.

"you're such an eager bunny, baby," he murmured over the pretty moans ringing in his ears as you leaned back against his chest, head resting on his shoulder, while he whispered the filthiest things in your ear. his hot breath tickled your skin. god, he was like a drug. "humping my fingers like you're in heat."

his thumb was rubbing your clit, making your toes curl. his words made you embarassed and your face hot, but you didn't dare correct him. "no matter where you go, you always come back to me. won't you, pretty girl?" he teased, your moans answering him.

he slid another finger inside you easily, stretching you even more. your eyes widened from the sensation; it was a mix of pleasure and pain that made tears brim in your eyes. a whimper left your throat, going straight to wooyoung's hard cock that rested against your thigh.

your tiny hand went straight to his cock, trying to stimulate him as his fingers worked your dripping cunt, moving in and out, curling, hitting all the right spots. he groaned quietly before kissing you, his tongue exploring your mouth. you tried your best to kiss him back, saliva pooling at the corner of your lips as your vision was slowly going blank, stars starting to appear. your body trembled under his relentless pace, lips parted, gasping. but he started pulling his fingers out of you.

"woo," you whined which made him scoff, watching you looking like a doll. his perfect, little doll. he slid his fingers covered with your slick into his mouth, a hum vibrating through him while swirling his tongue around them while your mouth watered at the sight. you took a heavy breath, and without speaking, reached out, pulling his fingers from his mouth, looking at him expectantly.

he swallowed hard, the look you gave him was flipping a switch in his brain. "go on, take them into your mouth."

you obliged, sliding three of his long digits into your mouth. wooyoung groaned, his eyes closing as he could fell the back of your throat at his fingertips. he couldn't take it anymore, and clearly you couldn't either.

you aligned him at your entrance, your pussy practically begging for him to fill you. that signature smug smile remained as his eyes held yours, and you gripped his shoulders as his tip pushed through your walls, stretching you deliciously as he finally bottomed out. he paused, letting you adjust to his length, and you gasped before nodding him to continue.

he began to move, each thrust slow but steady, reaching deep, hitting that perfect spot inside you. your vision blurred with pleasure as he drove into you, his pace intensifying, while his lips found yours again. he could tell you were trying to hold your moans back, and that wasn't sliding by him. he gripped your throat tightly, pulling away from the messy kiss. "sing for me, baby," he moaned.

and you did. you moaned for him, your back arching off his mattress and into his chest as his pace quickened, thrusts growing deeper. they started out calculated but soon turned sloppy and messy. his lips pressed against neck. each movement, each kiss, each moan that escaped his lips only pushed you closer to the edge until you couldn't hold back anymore.

your hands gripped his shoulders tightly, fingers digging into him as the building tension finally snapped, sending you spiraling into release. your nails had dug crescents into his shoulders, drawing blood slightly. and then building tension finally snapped, sending you spiraling into release. you clenched so hard around his cock, pleasure consuming you completely with your body trembling in his arms as you released your orgasm. his hips never faltered as he rode you through the high.

wooyoung's thrusts slowed as he guided you through the last waves of pleasure, his own breaths turning ragged. "come on, baby," you whispered to him, trying to catch your breath slightly. he shivered at your tone, trying to chase his own high. "cum for me." you commanded, making him whine while pulling out of you quickly. his hand jerked his cock once then twice, and warmth spilled onto your thighs as he held you close, his load shooting out onto your plush skin. he fell down beside of you after every drop left him.

after leaving for a moment to retrieve a towel, he dragged the fabric to clean you and him up. he tossed it aside and held you close to him, his fingers grazing against your skin.

when he finally pulled back, his breathing heavy, he looked at you with that same inscrutable expression. "i'm not going to let you go," he said, his voice thick, almost possessive. "not this time."

you didn't say anything. there was nothing to say. you knew you were already lost. your breath was shallow, as you tried to forget the words, tried to remember that he didn’t matter. that he couldn’t hurt you anymore. his words were just empty promises, as always.

he had already left his mark. the damage was done. and you, despite everything, knew you'd sing for him again and again.

even if it meant losing yourself in the process.

[sweetblossomsss]

Into you || Jeong Yunho

Synopsis: Your husband, who was a deceitful piece of shit, unfortunately is someone who is high of status which means danger comes easily. But when Yunho was hired as your bodyguard, you felt something inside of you change. You were fighting with fire trying to explore what this relationship with Yunho could be.

WARNINGS: nsfw, swearing, reader’s husband gets physical by grabbing her face, drinking, crying, yelling, angst, happy ending, unprotected sex, smut, The character Jae is based on no one, just picked that name, toxic relationship with husband, divorce, throwing a object, tbh I’m sure I’m missing some just lmk.

Word Count: 40K. (If I remember correctly)

Blossom’s Notes: Hello my petals! I definitely had a blast writing this story. As I was watching Ariana Grande’s Into You music video it inspired me to write something similar to it. This is a long one so cozy up, grab a drink and popcorn and enjoy your read. Let’s get into it.

Started: May 29, 2024. Finished: July 28, 2024.

“And I just want to say, thank you to my beautiful wife.” Your husband, Jae, says as he smiles at you. The light shining on you, giving you a spot light. You smile back. “Without you, I don’t know where I would be right now. I love you so much.” He says as he sniffs those crocodile tears up.

You’ve gotten use to his bullshit and lies. The whole banquets clapped for your husband as he smiled for the cameras holding up his plaque. He’s a renowned technology entrepreneur, who is known for his innovative software solutions. His company, a major tech company, is getting recognized for its ground breaking achievements tonight.

He walks down the stage, shaking people’s hands, thanking them as he walks to you. He gives you a kiss on the lips, hugging you. “Show some more affection, would you?” He whispers in your ear, making it seem like he whispered sweet nothings to you. You smiled, as you held his cheek, trying to make it a sweet moment for the cameras.

How badly you wanted to slap him and clean the floor with his ass. You two sat down, thanking the people in your table for their compliments. You couldn’t wait to get home, get out this tight dress, and take the night off with a nice hot bath and alcohol.

“So Y/N,” An older woman says, catching your attention, “You must be very proud of your husband.” She smiles at you two as you reached over and placed your hand over Jae’s, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. “Words truly can’t describe how proud I am of him. He deserves it all.” You said smiling at him. Ugh, please.

Jae cleared this throat. “I’m truly a lucky man. I meant what I said when I said I don’t know where I would be if it wasn’t for her. She’s been my everything through all the hardships.” The way he looks at you and speaks which such love about you tugs a bit on your heart strings.

You won’t lie, this has been rough. Even then that’s an understatement. You both started this journey with not even able to afford a bed frame. Jae was putting hours in and out for his company, busting his ass to get to where he’s at now. It is true that you kept him sane and composed throughout it all. He leaned on you every time he let his frustration consume him and wanted to throw everything away.

Sometimes you fantasize about the what if. What if you did let him give up? Maybe all the money, glory, and fame wouldn’t get to his head. Something within him switched and you could never figure out why or when it did. If you’re wondering why you stay, well, truthfully speaking even you don’t know yourself. Maybe a part of you is holding on to the what use to be. Hoping Jae goes back to how he was.

“It’s beautiful to see a relationship like this.” The woman said. She dabbed her mouth with a napkin after she had a sip of her champagne, “Pardon if this is wrong of me to ask,” You felt the mood change within the table. “But I saw those threats online. How are you both feeling?”

Oh my mistake, did I forget to mention that you have been receiving threats? Due to your relationship with Jae, you have become a target for people who are against Jae’s business, along with some fans of Jae who aren’t too fond that your his wife. But what has your loving husband done with this information every time you bring it up? Nothing.

The other people in the table agreed talking amongst themselves whispering how they were terrified for you or were worried something bad would happen. “Oh, trust me, we aren’t taking the threats lightly,” Jae said, reassuring the people at the table.

You could’ve sworn you hurt your neck from how fast you snapped to his direction wondering who the fuck is “we” and why “we” all of sudden started caring. “We are currently trying to find the culprits as well as hiring a bodyguard for Y/N.”

Your mouth dropped. You were in shock. For MONTHS you’ve been begging and pleading for some form of protection but he always dismissed your feelings. Guess when other people speak he will do anything to save face his reputation.

He gives you a small face signaling to fix yours. “Oh-Oh, I’m just so shocked,” you said as you put a hand on your chest, “I- um- I didn’t know he was getting me a bodyguard.” You fumbled with your words, giving a small smile to the people at the table to save your reaction.

“Oh, what a good man you have,” the woman said. She grabs her champagne raising it in front of her. “A toast,” she says as everyone, including you two, raise your glass. “To the newly renowned entrepreneur.” Clinking with Jae before you downed that drink knowing you’re in for a long night. You can’t wait to get home.

_______

Finally you two arrived home, no one saying a word to one another. Jae loosening up his tie and taking his jacket off as he walks to the bar. You closed the door, walking to lean on the wall as you take off your heels. You carried them in your hands as you headed up the stairs.

“It would be nice if my wife would give a fuck about my award.” He spat in venom as he poured himself a drink, watching your figure go up the stairs.

You stopped half way on the stairs, making a creaking sound on the wood as you turned around. “Are you serious?” You scoffed. “Your wife is exhausted of playing pretend tonight, husband. I’m going to bed.” You turn around, wanting to just get comfortable and out of his presence.

He slams the cup down, liquor spilling out. You roll your eyes. Oh, here we go again. “Pretend? Are you fucking kidding me? After all I fucking do for you? For us? You’re gonna treat to me like this?” He yells as he spreads his arms out in front of him, leaning on the counter top, glaring at you.

You let out a laugh, slowly going down the stairs, staring at him with a smirk. “For us?” You asked tilting your head to the side in amusement, dropping your heels. “No, Jae, just for you. You’re just a self absorbed arrogant piece of shit.”

That set him off because he was coming in heavy steps, flaring his nostrils, eyes full of anger as he walked up to you grabbing your face. You yelped in shock, digging your nails into his wrist. “You don’t get to speak to me like that.” He spat at you, tightening the grip.

“Admit it. You don’t give a fuck about me. All you care about is your status and how you look on the outside to others.” You said breathing heavy as you try clawing his arm away from you.

“That’s not true. You know I care for you.” He said. His actions obviously say otherwise. You finally shoved him off of you. He stumbled a bit trying to find his balance. There was a moment of silence looking at each other before you spoke.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. Why does it take for other people to speak up about what’s happening to me in order for you to do something? You listen to them instead of me?” You felt tears dwelling up as you fumbled taking off your engagement ring and throwing it at him. “Your wife?”

The ring hit him on the chest, bouncing at bit as it made impact with the floor, not that he cares about it either way. “You know that I was caught up with work, business meetings-“

“Everything but me. You just needed to hear other people talking about the threats to validate my feelings, huh?” You cut him off with tears streaming down your face. You were just fed up with all his excuses.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “I was making sure that you weren’t just you being paranoid!” He yells.

You scoffed in disbelief, is he serious right now? “Paranoid? You think I’m being paranoid? You think it’s great living in fear?” You asked him, watching him walk to the bar.

He pours another drink, giving his back to you. “We are doing it now so what’s the matter.” He says nonchalantly.

You sniffed as you wiped the fallen tears. “What matters is that my own husband who vowed to love and protect me doesn’t do anything of the sort.” You said as you shook your head in disappointment and anger. Seeing that he just gave up on this conversation, you just left and went upstairs.

Jae isn’t even phased one bit. He doesn’t bother looking back at you as you leave, not even feeling a tad bit remorse. He just leans his body over the counter, entertaining himself with the cup moving the liquor around, hearing the ice cubes clank against the glass.

He then suddenly feels a vibration in his pocket. He takes his phone out to see someone texted him what he was doing tonight. He chugs the rest of the drink, grabbing his car keys and slamming the door shut as he heads out.

As you’re getting undressed in the bathroom, you turned your head to the sound of the door closing. You sniffed as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand. You’re not stupid, you know he’s probably off to go party and screw some woman. Not the first nor the last.

You watched as the hot steam fogged up the room. Turning to the mirror, you wiped it as you stared at yourself. This isn’t you. You deserve better. You touched your face as you see the tiredness in your eyes, stress written all over your face. Soon the mirror would be fogging again causing you to look at your reflection fading.

You walked to the tub sighing in delight, feeling the slight burning sensation of the water relaxing your muscles as you stepped in. You slowly got in, letting your body adjust to the temperature. You leaned your back on the tub, closing your eyes letting the bullshit of night get out of your system into a peace of mind.

________

A few days have passed and tension still lingers between you and Jae. But here you are, standing in his spacious, sleek office, gazing out the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the city getting ready to meet this so called bodyguard Jae has hired.

When he told you he had found someone, you felt the weight of the world come off your chest. Finally, you get to breathe and not have to constantly be looking over your shoulder anymore. The sounds of Jae’s rhythmic typing filled your ears as you stared at your wedding ring, wearing it just for display for photos. You sighed as your attention turned to the view before you.

Suddenly a knock on the door caught your thoughts as you turned around to see who it was. “Come in.” Jae said not even bothering to look up. “Sir,” the receptionist said as she peaked in, “Mr. Jeong has arrived.” Jae looked up at her pausing mid-type, nodding his head as he stood up. “Bring him in.”

You walked and stood next to Jae as he is straightening his clothes, buttoning up his suit, preparing to meet him. “Let me do the talking,” he says, adjusting his tie. “Maybe now I won’t have to worrying about your safety every second.”

“Since when have you ever been worried about my safety to begin with?” You shot back at him with anger in your eyes.

Right when he was about to say something the door opens. Everything went silent when this tall man walked in. You were momentarily stunned at how handsome he was. He was just oozing with quiet confidence in every step as he approached you both. “Good evening, I’m Jeong Yunho.” He greets himself, deep voice ringing in your ears. Wow.

Yunho extends his hand out to Jae and he returns it with a firm shake. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jae and this,” he wraps his arm around you, “is my wife, Y/N.” He smiles at Yunho.

The urge of breaking his arm off of you is hard to fight but you push through it. “It’s very nice to meet you Mr. Jeong. Thank you so much for coming in today.” Although you feel irritated towards Jae, you gave a genuine smile to Yunho.

He extends his arm out to you. “Please, the pleasure is all mine. And please call me Yunho.” He gave you a small smile as he shook your hand. Wow, he is very handsome. Not just that, but the energy he was radiating when he walked captivated you in some sense.

Jae clears his throat putting his hands in his pockets, noticing your longing stare. “Yunho comes highly recommended. He will make sure you’re safe now.” He said in a serious tone.

“Im sure I will be.” Your tone coming off a little sarcastic as you smiled at Jae causing him to force a smile as his eyes sent daggers to you. “It really means a lot that you’re here Yunho.” You turned your attention back to him.

He nodded, giving a small smile. “Of course. It’s my job. We’ll go over your daily routine and set up a security plan tailored to whatever you need.” He said putting his hands behind his back as he spoke.

“Just make sure she’s protected.” Jae said with slight attitude towards Yunho. You gave him a look that said shut-up. “I’m sure he knows what he’s doing Jae.” You spat back at him.

Yunho sensed the tension between the two of you. He was eying your body language. Keeping a keen eye at the way Jae held your arm and you trying to remove it from his grip as he harshly whispers something into your ear causing your expression to turn angry.

“It’s alright. I understand where he’s coming from,” Yunho said calmly, trying to ease the tension. “My only goal is to protect you without intruding on your personal space. Whatever you need, just let me know.”

You nodded at Yunho’s words. “Well, if you excuse me,” Jae said as he looked at his watch, completely ignoring what Yunho said. “I have a meeting to get to. Make sure she gets home safe.” Jae said as left the room, but not before looking Yunho and up and down as if he’s a threat.

Once you hear the door close, you let out a sigh trying to release the frustration within you. “Yunho, I’m so sorry about Jae. He’s just very… difficult.” You apologized.

Yunho shook his head, giving you a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it. My focus is on you, not him.” He told you. Oh, what was that? Did my heart skip a beat?

You feel a rush of warmth covering your heart with his words, feeling your heart do a leap. It was the way his words spewed sincerity with his intense gaze throwing you off guard. It felt like it stirred up something in you and it was just the first time meeting him.

But besides that, you kind of felt overwhelmed, but in a good way. Feeling some tears creeping in, you sniffed a bit, “Sorry, it’s just- It’s been a long time coming. Ive been waiting for this for a while. You have no idea how clear I can breathe now.”

Yunho looks at you with compassion, “I know it’s a lot to take in, but I promise I’m going to be here for you at every step.” He reassures you as he pulls out a handkerchief for you to dry up your tears. You thanked him as you grabbed it from him, patting your face dry.

“Why don’t we go over your daily routine? The more I know, the better I can protect you.” He said smiling slightly at you, trying to take your mind off of the overwhelming thoughts. You let out a soft okay as you two sat down at the sofa.

You two spent an about an hour or two going over the entire outline of your routine. The places where you like to eat, favorite places to shop, like to hang out, just the usual places. He listens intently as he takes notes, asking questions to clarify some details, nodding his head as you kept talking. “And, well, that’s pretty much it,” you chuckled nervously, “sorry it’s that’s a lot of information.”

He shakes his head, “Not at all. It helps me to know as much as I can to ensure your safety.” He closes his notebook tucking it inside his suit pocket, standing up. “Well then, let’s get you home, yeah?” He asks as he extends a hand out to help you stand from the sofa.

You take his hand as you stand up looking at him. “Yeah, let’s go.” And with that you lead the way out the office and out the building. Because of the news of Jae winning an award, paparazzi were outside his building wanting to take photos and ask questions. And of course he would eat up all that attention.

As soon as you stepped outside, you were bombarded with questions, crowd closing up on you. You covered your face with your hand as flashing lights from the cameras were blinding you from seeing where you were going. Yunho had brought you closer to his chest, shoving people out the way, yelling at them to move.

He held a finger to his ear piece. “Prepare the car.” He said as he held you tightly. When the crowd opens up a way to the car, you see more security guards creating a barricade for you to get in the car. Yunho opens the door for you and helps you inside closing the door quickly.

He rushes to the other side of the car and gets inside. “Let’s go.” He tells the driver as he taps the driver seat. The driver books it out of there as you stared out the window, watching as you get further and further away from the paparazzi. You leaned your head back and close your eyes, feeling at ease. Something you haven’t felt in a long time.

_______

To say you were happy beyond words is an understatement. Yunho has been there at your beckoning call, very attentive when people are in your surroundings, he can read you like an open book at this point. It felt good getting some normalcy back. However one thing is still unresolved, your marriage.

Yunho has definitely seen the bad and the ugly when it comes to you two. The screaming matches, the silence between one another, you name it he saw it. You felt so ashamed and embarrassed to be doing all that in front of Yunho, but he always reassured you that it was okay and that he was here for you.

And tonight just so happens to be one of those nights. Tonight is an important conference for Jae and as always, he’s on edge. He had a drink in his hand, tapping his foot impatiently as he looked at his watch.

“Y/N, we have to go. Come on!” You heard Jae yelling from downstairs. You roll your eyes, applying the final touches to your makeup. You stepped back, admiring yourself as you spritz yourself with perfume.

You set it down and ran your hands down your dress, turning a bit to the side to see how you looked from behind. You smirked at yourself, Damn I look good.

You took a deep breath and let it out as you started walking down the stairs. The creaking of the stairs caused Jae and Yunho to look at your direction causing them to freeze up at your presence. You just looked so breathtaking. Yunho eyes never once left you as he walked towards you to help you down the last couple of steps.

“You look beautiful, Ms. Y/N.” Yunho complimented as you stepped in front of him, turning so he can help you with your silk shawl. You gave him a small thank you, adjusting your shawl around you.

Jae looked at you up and down before finishing his drink. “Let’s go.” He said, placing his cup down as he walked to the door. “We are going to be late.”

____

Arriving to the conference, as soon as you stepped in servers with drinks on a silver tray offered you champagne. You happily took one while Jae went off on his own to the bar to get something else to drink. Yunho just declined by raising his hand and followed you to the reserved table.

Once you spotted your name, he helped remove your shawl. The mixture of his slight touch mixed with the fresh cool air hitting your exposed skin gave a chill down your spine. He took out the chair for you,“If you need me, I’ll be right over there, okay?” He leaned down, whispering in your ear as he pushed the chair in for you.

The hot breath you felt in your ear gave you goosebumps all over, making the little hairs stand at your neck. “Okay.” You said softly as you nodded at him, clearing your throat. Feel like a little hot all of a sudden.

You watched him walk away as you bite your lower lip. Why am I feeling like this? But soon the devil himself would take you out of your thoughts as he got into your view taking a seat next to you. “Remember, act happy and don’t look so miserable.” Jae reminded you for the 20th time that night.

“Oh, sweetie, how can I when I’m with you?” You gave him a fake smile to which he returned one to you. When people started arriving at your table, his focus immediately shifted to them. You gave a small talk and smiles as the night when on.

As Jae was chatting up amongst the people at the table, you sighed in boredom. You grabbed your champagne taking small sips, your eyes roaming around the room. But you know who you were looking for. Your heart stopped when you saw those eyes were already looking at you.

It just felt like it was just you and him in this large crowded room. The dimmed light casting a mysterious look on him. You felt yourself getting lost looking at him. You can hear your heart beating with curiosity and excitement. Something in the way he looks at you makes you feel giddy inside.

He raised his eyebrow, almost asking if anything was wrong. You saw how was getting ready to walk but you smiled and shook your head. You placed the champagne down, turning your attention back to the table getting ready to play husband and wife when you heard Jae call for your attention.

______

Time has passed but the function is still going on. Jae and you stand amongst fellow CEOs, talking about their respective companies as Jae has a possessive grip around your waist. You try your best to hide your discomfort as you try to keep up with the conversation.

“So gentleman, as you can see,” Jae says as he takes a sip of his drink. “NexTech has been known for its unprecedented growth. Plus with our innovative strategies and unmatched resources, we will be dominating like no one has before.”

“Very impressive, Jae. The vision for your company is quite ambitious.” A CEO nods in approval. Jae chuckles as he grips you tighter. You slightly wince at the touch, knowing he’s getting drunk and can’t control himself.

“But of course it is. After all, I wouldn’t settle for anything less.” He said in an arrogant tone, chuckling.

You tried shifting away from him, but it was no use. He had a death grip on you. “Yes, Jae has always been ambitious.” You forced a laugh. You gave Jae a pointed look, signaling for him to loosen up the pressure.

But of course, he ignores you. All his attention is on the CEOs in-front of him. “Oh and who’s the lovely lady? Is she your assistant?” Someone asks, eyeing you with curiosity. Really man? You fought the urge to not roll your eyes.

“Oh no, she’s way more than that,” Jae chuckles, “This is my partner, Y/N, in every sense of the word. Although, between us, she’s not much help when it comes to the business side. Just a pretty face to show around.”

You look at him with widen eyes, feeling shock and humiliation. You can sense the mixture of pity and amusement from the CEOs as they look at you. In that moment you felt so small. You cleared your throat, “Excuse me.” You said as you removed yourself from his grasp, quickly walking away from them.

“Women, right? Can’t take a joke.” Jae sarcastically says as he takes a sip causing a laughter amongst the group.

______

Shoving the door of the banquet open, the loud noise of the chatter and music from the room fades away as the door closes behind you. Your heels echoed in the hallway as you desperately tried to find some sort of exit, feeling suffocated and humiliated.

After turning down some halls, you came across this French door that upon opening revealed to be a beautiful roof top garden. You sniffed as you sat down on the stone bench that was there, running a hand through your hair as you sobbed.

You shouldn’t be shocked at this point, you know that. But you just can’t help how you feel. Why must he be such an asshole. You sat there replaying the moment in your head. “I feel so stupid..” you said as you leaned your face into your hands as you cried.

Meanwhile back in the banquet, Yunho whose eyes never left your sight, saw you running away. He exchanged a look with Jae that was full of disappointment but quite frankly Jae could give a fuck about it. Yunho just knows that Jae did something to fuck this up.

As Yunho stepped out of the room, he looked all over for you. He was jogging down the hall but stopped in his steps once he saw that some doors were open and as he got closer he heard someone crying. When he stepped out, he saw you in your broken state.

As he approached you, the gravel under his feet made some noise but you were too caught up in your emotions that you didn’t hear foot steps approaching you. “Y/N?” He crouched down in front of you.

You jumped a bit not expecting to see anyone. “Oh my- Yunho, I’m so sorry,” you sniffed, wiping your face with the back of your hand. “I just- I- I’m sorry.” You sighed in defeat. “I don’t mean for you to see me in such state.” You said you turned to the side trying to compose yourself.

He doesn’t say anything as he stands up and takes his jacket off and he wraps it around you. You look up at him with puffy eyes and watched as he turns to the side and plucks a beautiful bloomed rose. “Here’s a flower for the woman whose beauty outshines any garden there is in life.” He says as he sits down next to you, tucking it gently in your hair.

You let out a small chuckle, touching the flower in your hair, “Thank you Yunho, that’s very sweet of you.” You say slightly nasally from the crying as you looked down. Feeling shy and embarrassed because you’re sure you look like a hot mess with your makeup all messed up.

“I mean it.” He says softly. He takes a minute then sighs. “May I ask a personal question? And apologies in advance if I have overstepped.” He asks you as he stares at your sadden state. You nodded, not even looking at him. “Why do you stay with a man who treats you like this?”

You take a deep breath, looking at him. “It’s complicated… We have been together for so long.” You sniffed, your voice was barely above a whisper. “It wasn’t always like this. He use to be so different.”

“But now?” Yunho asks as he listened intently, his expression softened at the sight of you.

“But now… I don’t know,” you looked down as you gripped Yunho’s jacket around you. “I think part of me stays because I hope he returns to being the guy he used to be to. Plus there’s so many other factors to it. Leaving isn’t as simple as it sounds.”

Yunho nodded in understanding. “While I do understand you, I just think you deserve someone who will treat you like the woman you are. It’s not worth crying over him.” He said turning your head to face him as he wipes your tears. The words he spoke ached your heart because it was the truth.

“You sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself, huh?” You chuckled at him causing him to laugh as well. His laugh was like music to your ears. He barely showed any emotions but when he did, it was a sight to see.

“Just doing my job,” he smiles. “But in all seriousness, you’re stronger than you think you are.” He says standing up, having the moonlight shine on his figure giving him that mysterious look from earlier.

You stood up as well, “Thank you for your kind words Yunho.” You said looking up at him. Suddenly the wind picked up a bit, causing you shiver. “Let’s go home, I’m sure his drunken self won’t even notice I’m gone.”

He nodded as he held his arm out for you to grab. You happily took it, feeling a bit tipsy from all the champagne you drank. Plus the crying didn’t help much. And with that you two left the building and headed home.

_____

You leaned your head against the window, watching the city lights has Yunho drove you both home. The drive was nice and quiet. You had told Yunho to take a different route because you honestly just didn’t want to go home.

But good things come to an end and here you are pulling into your driveway. You sat up in a surprise, feeling your heart quicken when you saw that Jae was home. “He’s home.” You muttered.

Yunho gave you a concerned look, “You want me to stay?” He asked seeing a bit of fear coming into your expression.

You nodded. “Yes. But I’ll handle it first, if anything happens I’ll call you.” When Jae had too much to drink, he was just so unbearable. You just know he was angry with you leaving so this combination of anger and liquor forms a knot in your stomach. But you were a strong woman who takes shit from no one.

You entered the house as saw no other than Jae sitting on the sofa, with a drink in his hand glaring at you. “Where the hell were you?” He slurred as he took a sip.

Yunho helped take off his jacket you still had on. “Yunho please give my husband and I a moment to talk.” You sarcastically said as Yunho nodded and left the room. You stood there arms crossed staring at him.

“Im going to ask you once more,” Jae said placing his drink down and walking to you. “Where the fuck were you?” He demanded.

You scoffed, your eyes turning icy, “Why? Afraid you couldn’t play pretend husband and wife? Afraid you couldn’t embarrass me to make yourself feel good about yourself?”

“Oh please,” Jae spat. “Again you go making it about your damn self. You embarrassed me with your dramatic walk out. Everyone asking what happened or where you went. You know tonight was important for me but no, you had to act like a damn bitch.” He yelled as he got way too close to comfort but you didn’t back down.

You pursed your lips, “You humiliated me Jae. Degrading me and saying I have done anything for this company when you know that’s completely bullshit. I’m fucking sick of you!” You yelled at him.

He let his anger take over as he grabs your neck and the his hand on your arm. “You don’t get to speak to me like that. You think you’re so much better than me? You wouldn’t last a day in my world.” He tighten the grip on both hands.

You were struggling to breathe as you dug your nails into his arm. “I know enough to understand that I deserve better than you.”

He laughed. “You need me. You never find anyone else. No one will ever want you, Y/N.” He spat with venom.

“Jae,” you said trying to remove his hand. “Jae you’re hurting me. Let go of me!” You yelled out in desperation.

He titled his head in fake sympathy, “Oh, why? You’re afraid? Scared even?” He taunted you.

It all happened so fast. Suddenly you felt like you can breathe again. You hunched over, hand on your neck as you coughed trying to regain your consciousness. When you looked up, you saw Yunho with his hand around Jae’s neck. His eyes were filled with rage, as if he has had enough of Jae’s bullshit.

“Don’t fucking touch her.” Yunho’s deep voice rang in the room. Jae was getting a taste of his own medicine as Yunho tightened the grip. “What a sad excuse of a man you are to be laying your hands on a woman.” He spat at him.

Jae stumbled trying to gain his balance as he tried his best to remove Yunho’s grip. “Stay the fuck out this,” he struggled to protest. “This is between my wife and I.”

Yunho towered over him, getting up close to his face. “Not when you’re hurting her.” He said watching Jae’s face turn red as he shoved him to a wall nearby.

“Let go of me!” He yelled at him. Yunho let him go, still standing close watching him fall to the floor, breathing heavy. Jae looks up at anger getting up to shove Yunho, “You think I’m fucking scared of you?!” He yells at him, chest heaving heavily.

“Touch her again and I’ll make you regret it.” Yunho said glaring into Jae’s eyes. Jae will never admit it, but deep down, he was scared of Yunho. He fucked around and found out right quick.

You grabbed Yunho’s arm. “Yunho, it’s okay.” You say weakly, still feeling the pain in your throat. But he didn’t budge at all eyes remaining on Jae. Jae just laughed bitterly, “Yeah, Yunho it’s okay,” he mocked you. “You better watch yourself, bodyguard.”

“Is that a threat?” Yunho asked, his voice was low and menacing getting closer to Jae who walked back causing him to bump into the wall.

Jae tsked and glared at Yunho. “Move,” he shoved Yunho as he walked to the stairs. “This isn’t over Y/N.” Throwing one last spiteful comment before heading up the stairs.

Watching his go up the stairs as you felt tears coming in. When you heard the door close you closed your eyes letting the tears stream down. Yunho put his finger under your chin gently tilting your head up examining your neck. “Are you okay?” He asks.

“That piece of shit.” You whispered as you felt on the verge of sobbing. “I’m so sorry Yunho.” You said, you looked down at the ground. You couldn’t help but feel remorse. Maybe you shouldn’t never brought up security, you could’ve saved Yunho his time.

Yunho cups your face, lifting your face to look at him. “Stop saying sorry.” He said firmly but kindly. “I’m here to protect you. No matter what.” You nodded as you sniffed, “Thank you Yunho.”

Jae never once laid a hand on you. But once the drinking and high status got into his head, there was no telling what he was capable of. He had gotten handsy with you, but you were always quick to fight back. You never thought you would need protection from your own husband.

“Of course. I’ll always be here for you.” He said giving you eyes of compassion. You couldn’t help but to hug him. If it wasn’t for him, who knows how else this night would’ve turned out. Yunho took a moment but eventually wrapped his arms around you, figuring that you needed someone to lean on right now.

____

The conference was a blessing in disguise because Jae had gotten the approval to open another location in a different state which means he will out of town for a while. Good riddance, you thought. Prior to leaving he was busy with meetings for the preparation of the new building, rarely seeing him after the dispute.

When you walked into the kitchen you saw a huge bouquet of flowers in the island. Grabbing the little note on the flowers, ‘I’m sorry for everything. Love, Jae.’ Feeling anger seeping in, you ripped the card to pieces throwing his half ass apology away. Staring at the flowers, you decided to keep them. Why should nature be thrown away when it wasn’t even its fault, it was his.

Now that Jae is gone, the sun is shining brighter, your smile lasts a little longer, the air feels clearer. It’s a good time to be alive. During this time you have been able to do the activities you enjoy in peace. Which naturally has gotten you and Yunho a bit closer.

One activity was shopping. When you walked into the store, your eyes sparkled with excitement as you saw the variety of clothes that was before you. Yunho, who had a serious expression the whole time, followed you around with a mountain of clothes that just kept piling up as you saw something that you wanted to try on.

When it came time to trying the clothes on, you would ask for his opinion and you can tell he was taking it serious and you couldn’t help but burst out into laughter. You stepped out the dressing room, seeing Yunho who was sitting on the sofa, legs spread open with his arms crossed waiting for you, looking to the side waiting for you.

Oh shit. He looked absolutely fine. Shaking your head, getting out of your thoughts you cleared your throat. “What do you think about this one Yunho?” You asked as you did dramatic modeling poses laughing a bit, doing a little twirl to look at the dress fully.

He sits up straight, his arm propped on his leg as he leans his chin on his head, eyebrows furrowed. Oh, he’s really thinking about it. “It’s not giving.” He said serious.

You stopped looking at yourself in the mirror and turned to face him with a playful look on your face, “It’s not what?” You asked, on the verge of laughing.

“It’s not giving…” he pauses, struggling to find a word to describe what he means. “I don’t think this on brings you out well. I think you should try on another dress.” He said as he turns to pick out a different dress handing it to you.

When he notices you staring at him with a smile on your face he shrugs. “What is it? What?”

You laugh as you grabbed the dress and headed to the dressing room. “I didn’t think you were a fashionista.” You smiled at him before closing the curtain. Little did you know, he smiled in secret enjoying this time with you. So this is how it is when you’re happy.

Another activity was when you went to the grocery store and just arm swiped a whole shelf of cookies into the cart Yunho was pushing. “Oh, the ice cream!” You said as you went to the frozen aisle. Yunho sighed as you went back forgetting something yet again. You wanted to pig out as you watched cringey cheesy movies which was right up your alley, Yunho not so much.

“Oh my god, why would she do that!” You yelled at the TV as you covered your face feeling second hand embarrassment from the actress in the movie. You sighed grabbing a spoon full of ice cream and eating it, “She messed up.”

“Yeah she did.” Yunho said flatly dreading that he agreed to watch these movies with you as he had his arms crossed. But you didn’t care as you tapped his arm pointing to the cookies near him, your eyes never leaving tv. “Pass the cookies please.” He sighed as he grabbed and passed them to you.

But honestly, although the hates the movies you have been binge watching, he stares at you in admiration as you are fully invested in the films. You’re too blinded by the films to feel his stares as he smiles at you slapping your forehead in defeat.

To also having him help you in working out which you were dreading now. He had suggested for you two have a nice morning run. But damn, you were huffing and puffing as your arms were leaning on your thighs trying to catch your breath. You hated yourself for agreeing to this.

He saw you falling behind and jogged back to you, “Come on. Don’t you want to burn off those cookies and ice cream?” He asked you jogging in place to keep his body warm.

“Shut the fuck up.” You said through your heavy breathing causing him to laugh at you. “I hate you.” You said getting back up and jogging ahead of him. He followed suit giving you words of motivation which caused you to grunt in annoyance. “I’ll throw up on you!”

To having Yunho stay at nights since you’re alone now, worried if anything happens to you in the middle of the night. As he walks past the living room, he sees that you fell asleep on the sofa. He smirks as he quietly walks to you, covering you with the blanket, tucking some hair behind your ear getting it out your face. He stops and stares at you for a bit, taking in how much you look in peace, something he was grateful for. He leaves, dimming the lights a bit and looking at you before leaving to another room.

_______

Time has passed and one thing stands out. These feelings for Yunho have grown no matter how much you try to push it back and deny it. You just tell yourself that this is just his job, you’re confusing his actions and your feelings.

You two are sitting on the sofa talking and laughing about random stuff. The way the afternoon sunlight hits Yunho’s face has you mesmerized, highlighting his features. The way the sun shines in his eyes as he looked at you got you in a trance. After the laugher subsided, he noticed that you went quiet. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Mm? Oh it’s nothing. Nothing.” You chuckled nervously. Damn, was it that obvious you went deep in thought?

But his gaze remained at yours as he asked again, not letting you dismiss your feelings quickly. “You know you can tell me anything right? You can tell me what’s on your mind.” He says.

You gave him a weak smile, “I don’t know if I can.” Your emotions sit heavy in your heart. You don’t think you can keep bottling up these feelings for him.

“Why can’t you?” He asks you. “It won’t change my judgement on you. You know you can talk to me.”

“You don’t know that.” You said, feeling a bit worried. “I don’t want to risk what we have.” You looked down, playing with a loose thread on your jacket.

“Why would you even think that?” He says softly as he gets a bit closer to you, wanting to get a better view of you.

You felt your heart pounding up to your ears. Feeling your palms sweaty. “I, um,” you started off, still looking down. You took in a deep breath, looking up into his eyes. “I’m in love with you…“ your voice trembling with vulnerability.

There was silence as you two stared at one another. Your heart was sinking, feeling regret settling in. You removed the blanket off you and stood up, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” You should’ve just stayed silent.

“Y/N, wait,” Yunho said in a low and urgent voice as he stood up and grabbed your arm. He turned you to face him and saw unshed tears in your eyes. He cupped your face and leaned his forehead onto yours.

He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but he too can’t control his urges anymore. Without another word he leaned in and kissed you passionately. You held onto his wrists as you returned the kiss back. My god, you felt like time had stopped. You couldn’t believe this.

He breaks the kiss, panting a bit to catch his breath. “Y/N,” he says as he wiped your tears. “I love you too. So, so much. I’ve been wanting to tell you for so long.” He said in between pants, staring into your eyes.

“Yeah?” You whispered in shock. He kisses your hands as he nodded. “Yeah.”

It’s as if time had froze around you two, when you gently shoved Yunho to sit back down on the sofa. His eyes looking up at you with desire as you stand in front of him. “Come here.” He said to you, tapping his thigh, leaning back.

As soon as you straddled him, Yunho’s hands went behind your back, pulling you closer to him until there was no space between you. This kiss soon went from passion to hunger, wanting to express a different way to show how you feel for one another.

Yunho grabbed handful of your hair, tugging your head back as he peppered kiss down your neck, sucking on your skin leaving hickeys. You moaned in delight as you bit your bottom lip, enjoying this sensation.

And before you know it, you two are skin to skin, feeling the hot sweaty sticky bodies colliding perfectly. Electricity coursing through you body with every touch Yunho gives you. The way shivers went down your spine as he stretched you out when you first sat on him, letting you give him a high pitched moan.

The way your bodies melted into one another ignited a fire. The mixture of moans was melody to your ears. His hands were on your ass, helping you to quicken the pace of your hips, “Oh, oh Yunho,” you furrowed your eyebrows and threw your head back in pleasure, hands on his shoulders for support. “Fuckkk, you feel s-so good.”

Yunho stands up, carrying you as he’s still inside you to flip positions. He lays you down on your back and caresses your legs that are wrapped around him. “Fuck, keep doing that baby.” He grunts as he feels you clenching around him. He moves his hands between your chest and up to your neck, “Can I?” He asks for permission. “Yes, please.” you moaned as you arched your back throwing your head back.

He gave your throat a nice squeeze as he started pounding into you causing you to do some deep breathing techniques, because this man was spreading you out like never before. You threw your hands back, gripping the arm chair for dear life. “You like that baby? Who’s making you feel like this?” He asks you. Fuck, that was hot.

He lifts your legs up to get a deep angle, “Answer me.” He demands as he goes faster. You tried gripping the sides of the sofa or just something to hold on to, “Y-Yes, Yunho, you a-are.” You moaned loudly. He was taking you cloud 9, making you see stars, the whole nine yards.

He flips you around on to all fours. You leaned on the arm rest with your arms supporting you as Yunho grabbed your hair back making your arch your back. He wasted no time going back in, his free hand rubbing your clit, giving you the friction you needed to cum.

“You want to cum on my dick, baby?” He asked you lowly in your ear. You nodded frantically, “Yes please, please.” You begged as he bit your ear. He let go of your hair and flips you for the last time. He wants to see your face when you release on him.

“Cum for me then.” He says as he moves at a rapid speed. You bit your lip in the overwhelming pleasure you’re feeling. He had leaned down and sucked on your nipple, but looked up when he heard your muffled moans, “Scream for me, don’t be quiet.”

You gripped onto his arms, feeling yourself inching closer and closer to your release. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, Yunho I’m gonna cum.” You yelled out, breathing heavy. He lets go of your nipple and hovers over you, “Do it baby, cum on my cock, cum.”

Just like that the knot was undone. He kissed you as you moaned into his mouth. You felt like you had traveled to another universe from how good that orgasm was. A few seconds later Yunho was right behind you, cumming inside of you. He rode out both of your highs and then laid on top of you.

Feeling each other fasten heart beats as you both catch your breath. He looks up at you and smiles to which your return as you ran your hand through his sweaty hair, “I love you.” He said, closing his eyes enjoying your sweet touch.

“I love you too.” You said as you just laid there for a moment, taking it what just happened. Internally you were doing cartwheels and backflips. You were happy knowing he felt the same way you did.

______

All good things must come to a because Jae has returned, along with his bullshit. What was once peace is now back to being a war zone of arguments and anger. Something else was for certain, he definitely has sensed something was going on between you and Yunho and it was eating him up alive.

And from the way the front door was slammed shut, it seems like he was going to get his answer today. “You. Leave. Now.” He says sternly to Yunho as he entered the room.

Yunho glanced at you, but you nodded in return signaling that it was okay. He started to walk out, giving you one last protective glance before disappearing. Jae’s eyes followed him out before looking back at you. “Y/N, tell me what the hell has been going on between you two.” He demanded.

You rolled your eyes, flipping through the magazine not bothering to look up at him. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.” You said coldly, your tone unwavering.

“I know something happened while I was gone so just fucking tell me.” Jae yells at you, his fist clenching at his sides.

You looked up at him, “and if something did?” You shrugged “You think it gives you the right to be angry with me, given everything you have done?” You said with attitude as you went back to your magazine.

Jae’s face contorted with rage, shaking his head. “This isn’t about me. This about you, my wife” He says coming up close to you. There he goes with that wife word.

You chuckled, throwing the magazine to the side standing up. “Only when it’s convenient for you Jae. Why? Scared of losing control of this whole fake facade?” You walked past him, over this argument.

He grabs the vase that held the flowers he gifted you and threw it to the wall. You jumped at the sound, turning to face him with widen eyes. His back was still facing you as Jae looked down. From your corner you saw Yunho coming but you put your arm out for him to wait.

“Fucking tell me and don’t lie to me Y/N.” Jae said as he turned around with rage in his eyes. Knowing that Yunho was here in the house, he kept his distance from you as he was terrified of him.

“I’m in love with Yunho.” You finally said after some silence. He shook his head and scoffed at you, “How fucking could you? You would this to me?”

You scoffed at his stupidity. “Oh, so now you want to act like a victim? How many times have you cheated on me behind my back Jae? How many woman? So when the tables turn, it’s an issue all of a sudden.” You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow.

He gets closer to you, trying to intimidate you. “So what? You’re just going to leave me and be with the bodyguard? Do you honestly think he can give you what I can’t? You think you can just walk away from me? After everything I have done for you?”

You laughed in his face. “For me? For me?” You started off, “You mean your own personal punching bag? Where I’m constantly disrespected and treated like an accessory? Where I’m always ignored and you go screw some bitch? The only thing you have done was to teach me to never be with someone like you.”

“If you think you’re going to work out with some cheap fling then you’re more delusional than I thought.” He spat at you as you walked away from him.

“Cheap fling? Yunho is more of a man than you will ever be. He’s been everything and more to me than you ever were.” You stopped in your steps, facing him.

You looked down at your rings and take it off. This caused Jae to die a little inside. “I want a divorce.” You chucked it at his feet, leaving the room. Jae looked down at his feet and stared at the rings causing anger to boil inside him to the point he punched the wall.

As you passed the hallway, Yunho, who was ready to jump in at anytime, follows behind you. “Let’s go.” You told him as you grabbed your car keys and walked out the door.

Asking no questions, just focused on you, he opens the door for you and just as you are about to get in, you hear Jae yelling in frustration, telling you to get back inside as he starts breaking stuff. You rolled your eyes as you got into seat. Yunho walked to the driver side and drove off.

———-

The car ride was silent, only noise was the AC that was on low. You looked out the window, watching the cars passing by. “I’m getting a divorce.” You said out loud breaking the silence.

“Wow,” you said in awe of yourself. “I’m getting a divorce.” You couldn’t believe that it’s taken you this long and that you finally did it.

“How are you feeling? Are you okay?” Yunho asks as he takes a quick glance at you. He really can’t read your expression and words clearly right now.

“I think I am?” You said unsure, giving him a shrug. “I don’t know, I feel like I should be but I’m just so overwhelmed. Like, there were so many times I told myself I was done, but never did anything. And now I just- I think I feel free.”

Yunho stops a red light and reaches over to grab your hand. He raised it to his lips as he gave a gentle kiss on the back of it. “I’m really proud of you Y/N. Whatever you do next, I’ll be there every step of the way supporting you.”

The way you were blushing like a school girl at his gesture. You smiled at him, “Thank you Yunho. Thank you for showing me what love is.” You caressed his cheek as you leaned in for a kiss.

______

One thing is certain for Jae, he can rot in hell. He didn’t not waste any time in spreading the news about the divorce publicly. It spread like wildfire throughout the media as it was plastered on magazines, spoken on drama news TV channels, on social apps. You name it, it was there.

The headlines painted the picture of the split, highlighting the scandalous nature of the breakup. And Jae, being a beloved figure, wanting to keep the good man persona in the people’s eye, threw all the blame on you.

You were under so much intense scrutiny, that it became suffocating. You were portrayed as the villain in this whole chaos while Jae was viewed as the innocent victim. As if he could stoop any lower than before, he definitely broke a new record.

At first, you just tried toughing it out. Trying to ignore the whispers and gossip. The harsh looks when you went out. Paparazzi was so far up your ass you couldn’t move without them knowing. But it was hard to escape from the public’s judgement.

One evening, you were at Yunho’s place, which is where you have been staying, skimming through a magazine that had a featured about another headline of you. Yunho who had sense your distress, quickly takes the magazine out of your hands. “Y/N, look at me,” he says he sits on the coffee table, grabbing your hands. “You don’t have to let this get to you. They don’t know the true.”

You looked up at him with sadness in your eyes. “It’s not just about the truth Yunho. It’s about everything!” You stand up as you walked back and forth, “it’s about how this guy who I thought I knew and spent the majority of my life with is out to ruin my life. It’s about everyone quickly believing his lies… I didn’t ask for this. I can’t take this anymore.”

Yunho sighs as he walks up to you, cupping your face. “Listen to me, please,” he leans his forehead, “You’re a strong woman. You have been through hell and back. You have never backed down from a fight. You never once let Jae’s manipulation and bullshit break you, and you’re not going to let this either.” He said as he watched you close your eyes as tears fall down.

You sniffed. “How can I fight this?” You whispered. You honestly felt so lost and broken, you don’t even know what to do or where to start.

“You’re not alone in this. Out in the public you can put a mask of fierceness, show the world you aren’t afraid of what Jae is doing. Show them just how strong and unbreakable you are.” He gives you a tender kiss. “But when we’re behind closed doors, baby, you don’t have to keep the facade. You can lean on me. We can do this.” He says as he hugs you.

You felt like sobbing. Is this what true love is? Throughout this whole darkness, Yunho has been your rock and you honestly don’t know how you would be if you were alone. You’re so thankful for him. “Yunho, thank you. Thank you for being in my life.” You looked up to him as he leaned down and kissed you once more.

______

If Jae wants to play like this, then you can play this game too. After the conversation with Yunho, you felt a fire ignited within you. That conversation helped you remember who the fuck you were and there was no way in hell Jae was going to go out like this.

For the next few weeks you laid low. Out of sight out of mind with the public. Your divorce lawyer, who was sent by the Gods by a miracle, told you to gather all information on your part as she does some digging on her side. Today you were meeting with her and not gonna lie you were sweating bullets.

Who knows what she has found. Did she even find anything? Will she be able to clear your name and reveal who Jae really was? This was also one of the few times you left the house so you just know you were going to be bombarded with questions and cameras in your face.

As the car pulls up, you looked out the window and saw reporters spread all over the place, waiting for you. You then felt Yunho’s hand over yours, causing you to snap out your thoughts. “It’s going to be okay.” He reassures you as you nod. He steps out the car and heads to the other side to open your door.

You can do this, you thought yourself as you put on your shades. Show Jae that you are that bitch. As soon as Yunho opened the door, everyone came flooding in asking a bunch of questions.

You just kept a serious face, purse hanging on your arm as you walked up the stairs while Yunho and other guards of his were making way for you. You tried your best to not react at the stupid questions they asked you.

“Y/N, how does it feel to know that you ruined your marriage?” One asked.

“Was it worth it to you? Care to comment?” One said shoving a microphone in your face.

“Have you spoken to Jae?” Another asked.

Oh and let us not forget the special, special fans of Jae who were also surrounding you were throwing nasty comments at you.

“Don’t you know how to keep your legs closed?” One screamed in your face. You bit down on your tongue, trying not to answer.

“Such a slut. Did all those years mean nothing to you?” One went to jump on you but Yunho shoved her off.

“Have you no shame in bringing him here? Have you no shame in being in public with him? Stupid bitch.” Another one said speaking about Yunho.

You finally reached the door and headed straight to the elevator. When it binged open, you and Yunho stepped in and turned to face the crowd before you. Seeing the flashing lights of the cameras and crazed fans pounding on the glass, their yells being muffled. As soon as the doors closed, you turned and hugged Yunho.

You felt the world crushing in on you in that moment. You had a mixture of overwhelming emotions clouding up your head. Anger, sadness, frustration. You just wanted to cry in silence and thankfully Yunho understood.

You then backed up and wiped your tears, taking in a deep breath. Yunho lifted your chin with his finger as he gave you a soft kiss on your lips. “You got this.” He whispered and you nodded.

The elevator dinged, signaling that you have arrived to the top floor. You straighten up your posture, keeping your head high as you walked the halls. “Stay here.” You told Yunho who nodded and stood next to the door putting his arms behind his back.

You walked in and was greeted by Jina. “Y/N,” she says standing up and shaking your hand, smiling to which you returned. “Welcome. Thank you for coming.”

You shook your head. “No please, I am the one who should be thankful.” She gestures you to sit down. “So tell me, what have you found?”

She wasted no time in take out files and spreading out copies of documentation and photos of Jae with other business men, “Jae’s time of looking like a saint is over. We have found evidence to that showcases all of the cheating and unethical practices within his company,” she starts off as she goes through each paper, describing to you all the horrible practices he has done.

You sat there in shock, taking in the information. You couldn’t believe this was happening everyday behind closed doors. Jae gets scummier and scummier by the minute. You leaned back into your seat letting out a scoff as you scan the papers. Jina then takes out a paper and hands it to you, “What’s this?” You asked her as you take it from her hand.

Jina smirks as she crossed her leg over the other, leaning back crossing her arms. “Signed affidavits of several woman who have confirmed that they have had affairs with Jae while he was married to you.” You looked at her with widen eyes. The devil works hard, but Jina works harder. “Look in that folder.” She points to one near your left arm.

You gasped looking at photos that had Jae partying or going out with women. You see his drunk self doing body shots on girls as well as inappropriate gestures to them. Ugh, you could throw up. Jina nodded as you looked through the pictures, feeling a bit proud of herself.

“And the Cherry on top?” There’s more? “We also have evidence from Jae’s company, NexTech, has been doing fraud, bribery, and exploitation of employees. Let’s just say he has been cutting some corners and violating labor laws to maximize his profits.” She finished off.

You shook your head, just flabbergasted at everything you’re finding out. “Jina,” you said after a moment of silence. “There are no words to describe how thankful I am. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.” You said feeling a sense of hope rising in your chest.

She leans over the desk, placing a hand on top of yours. “Of course.” She smiles. “It’s only a matter of time before everything is unraveled. Everyone will know the real truth.”

______

It was later on in the night. You were pacing in Yunho’s living room with gnawing on your thumb in nerves. “Y/N,” Yunho called to you as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Relax. Everything will be okay.” He says trying to calm you down.

You were just caught up in your mind that you didn’t even hear him. Jina told you she was going to release the information tonight and honestly, you were shitting bricks wondering what the out come will be. You felt arms being wrapped around your waist, causing you get out of your thoughts.

“Y/N,” Yunho says as he leans down and kisses your neck. “Why don’t we go relax, mmh? You had a stressful day.” Peppering kisses up and down your neck.

You closed your eyes as you bit your lip, swaying a bit, lifting your hand to caress his head. “Okay. Let’s relax.” You sighed softly. He takes your hand gives you a little twirl, causing you to chuckle, before leading the way to the bathroom.

Steam was swirling in the bathroom as you two passionately kissed under the water. Both of your bodies lathered up with soap, foaming at the little friction you two created. You bit his lower lip, opening your eyes in a haze to look at his face scrunch a bit from the pain. You felt your heart race a bit when he opened his lustful eyes to look at you.

He glided his up your back, tugging your hair gently back causing you to moan in his mouth. Your arms over his shoulders, feeling the warm water slide down your arms and onto Yunho’s body. His free hand slides to down to cup your ass, giving it a squeeze.

In a swift movement, he presses you up against the foggy glass. Your hand prints and pressed up breast showcasing on the glass, turning your head to the side looking at Yunho stroking himself through your peripheral. You bit your lip, feeling your pussy throbbing, impatiently wanting to feel him again.

He placed his hand above yours as his other one guides him inside you. You gasped as the sensation of the stretch, leading more on the glass as the feeling takes over you. His free had placed on your hip as he starts thrusting into you.

The sound of the water clashing between you two intensifies as Yunho starts going faster. The bathroom is filled with the sounds of skin slapping and the moans of pleasure. “You feel so good baby.” Yunho said in his deep voice. “Just for me, right?” He grabs your hair, pulling you back so he can see your fucked out face.

You swallowed, feeling your throat dry from the heavy breathing you’re doing. “Ye-Yes,” you said, feeling your hands slip, trying to catch yourself from falling. “Just for you.”

He smirked as your struggle. “Good girl.” His deep voice made you clench on him, making him moan as letting go of your hair to your clit as he rubbed it. You caught yourself before hitting the glass as you started screaming in pleasure. You started whimpering from the rapid speed he was going. “Cum baby, I know you want to.” He tells you.

You fogged and defogged a spot on the glass that was near your mouth as you tried catching your breath with Yunho shoving your face into it. You shut your eyes tightly as you were nearing your high. “I’m clo-close.” You managed to moaned out. At the same time you and Yunho came, feeling stars as he rode out the highs. “That’s right baby, scream for me. Let everyone know who’s making you feel like this.” He grunts out.

When you two calmed down, you turned around and leaned on the glass, not caring how cold it was. He smiled at you, “Feel better?” He asked you and you playfully hit his chest. “Shut up.” You told him as you both laughed. He put his hands next to your face on the glass and he went for a kiss.

When you actually finished showering, you stepped out scrunching your hair and wrapping a towel around your body, tucking the excess at the top to stop it from falling. From the corner of your eye you saw your phone light up. ‘Turn on Channel 2’, read Jina’s text message.

You gasped with widen eyes as you ran out to the living room, feeling the goosebumps rise on your skin as soon as the cold hits your skin. You grabbed the remote flipping through channels not caring about the droplets of water that were falling from your hair were landing on your arms.

“In recent news, Jae’s public image continues to crumble as more details emerge about his affairs and the unethical practices at his company. It is confirmed that these allegations are supported by fundamental evidence,” the reporter says as the screen shows Jae shoving cameras out his face as he is trying to enter a building. He starts yelling at them to get out his face.

“Former employees have provided detailed accounts of the harsh working conditions along with the illegal activities at Jae’s company.” The documents being shown on the screen explain detail per detail on how things were being run.

“Furthermore, details of Jae’s extramarital affairs have also been revealed,” she says as the same photos you saw in the office appeared on the screen too. Your heart is pounding out of your chest. “Multiple woman have come forward and shared evidence along with sources who can confirm his involvement in said acts.”

The reporter finished off by saying, “Legal experts believe this is going to be leading to very serious repercussions for both his business and personal life. As of right now, this is all we have. Stay tune for future updates.” You watch as the screen changes to commercials.

“Y/N?” Yunho who was there behind you the whole time watching everything unfold breaks the silence. “Are you okay?” He asks you.

You turned to him, smiling. “It’s over. I’m free.” You said feeling tears of joy coming in. He extends his hand out and you happily grab it as he pulls you to him. “I’m proud of you. I told you that you could do it.”

“Thank you for being by my side every step of the way, Yunho. I love you.” You say as you kissed him. He smiles into the kiss, “I love you more.”

“Now come on, let’s celebrate.” He says he breaks the kiss. You tilt your head, “Where we going?” You asked him. He smirked as he picks you up bridal style, “It’s best if I show you.”

Oh yeah, you can get use to this.

THE END

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Pretend It's Someone That Came for You (18+)

pairing: coworker!wonwoo x fem!touch-starved!reader

genre: coworker au, office au, strangers to lovers, angst w a happy ending, smut (MDNI!!), fluffy fluffy fluff fluff

description: you're lonely. you're so lonely you think it might actually kill you. but when wonwoo transfers to your office, he might just change that fact.

warnings: unprotected sex (do NOT pls my babes), soft dom!wonwoo, sub!reader, v loving sex, praise (f. receiving), confession of love, riding, fingering (f. receiving), pussy rubbing tihi, pet names (pretty girl, good girl, baby, darling, etc), VERY angsty beginning, yn is truly v sad so DO NOT READ THIS if u fear it will make u sad!!, they say i love u unrealistically fast but i had to do it, yn uses sex to feel less lonely/ends up feeling more lonely, relatable yn frs, slightly dramatized symptoms of touch-starvation (?), kinda boring plot but idc bc its CUTE AF

quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "finally!!" (she was fed tf up), "stanley is the most stanley man ever. i hate him but i love him.", (more r coming she actually didnt have time 2 read this and i didnt want to wait with posting.)

wordcount: 10.0k

a/n: this story was supposed 2 have more angst, like it was supposed to have this whole misunderstanding, but it just didnt feel right, it made me sad, so instead this is a short n sweet love story xx

Sometimes you think that the loneliness might kill you. 

You weren’t always like this. You remember being a sociable, joyful child; half-broken bikes and teddy bears and booster seats. You remember pigtails and popsicle sticks and Power Rangers, and what came after that? Being a moody teenager, became being a moody adult. High school became college, and college became an office job that served to keep you alive, even if it didn’t feel like being alive. College wasn’t that bad, you remember, so at what point had you mistaken isolation for privilege? And at what point had you gone too far into that tunnel-hole to turn back? 

 You must’ve been cursed, you think, putting on your outfit for work in the deadly still apartment. Dust dares not move, dares not give you hope that you are not alone. 

You must’ve been cursed, you think, coming into work to a string of half-hearted, mumbled greetings. Your office is off-white and black and gray and everyone inhabiting it is also off-white and black and gray, and their skin is faintly oily and sickly and their faces are dragging down as if the very earth was reclaiming them and you think that you fit in here better than anywhere else. 

You must’ve been cursed, you think, when you spend your day writing emails and organizing documents of information into different formats to send to huge corporations. Sometimes you fantasize about the other end of the transaction. Maybe their office is warm and brown with an accent of blue, and maybe people put hands on each other's shoulders, when they tell one another they’ve done a good job. 

Yes, there’s no other explanation, you think, and can’t even muster the energy to feel bad when you blame some old hag from your hometown. You think she must’ve conjured up the worst ingredients, something cartoonishly evil, and a spell befell you, sunk into the crevices of your skin and dug into your pores.

You lie on your couch with a glass of wine and the television going, but you’re not really listening. You don’t think anyone has touched you in six months. You’re not even sure you’re real anymore. You swear, you could live with no one hearing you out, because you’re not sure you’d have anything worthwhile to say, but you just needed someone to touch you. To reach out a hand and confirm, you’re real, you’re right underneath my fingertips, and I’m squeezing your shoulder, and I see you, and I feel you right here.

Sometimes you think that the loneliness might kill you.

Lying physically very still, you still feel like you’re scrambling, fighting the clutch of the curse, and tugging on metal chains. Maybe that’s where all your energy goes. 

What do normal people do when they feel this bad?

Sometimes you leave open the window, and when the wind tugs at your door, you pretend it’s someone that came for you. 

Tug, tug, tug. The door rattles against its hinges when the fatally empty sky brings to you, in outstretched palms, the wind interlaced with glimmers of hope. 

There’s never anyone at the door.  _____________________________

This particular day starts like any other. You wake to your alarm and you put on clothes and you get ready and brush your teeth. Then you trample down to the bus stop. The sky is smothered by a duvet of heavy rain clouds. The rain hasn't come yet, but you know it will. Your fingers become stiff and hard, where they adhere to the polyester strap of your bag, massaging it. The bag is cold and dead.

The bus ride is by far the greatest part of your day. It’s quiet - early enough that you’re only accompanied by a few other souls. You rest your head on the window, vibrating gently against the curve of your forehead, and watch the people in the street. 

 The bus hums a gentle tune and snakes down the streets. Then you’re there, and whatever solace that it offers you under artificial light and mediocre, felted seats is gone. 

Your office building is maybe the most depressing place on earth. It’s no glamorous feat of architecture. It is but a large, orange-y, puke-y, brick square, and the building is shared between yours and the Forester company. You don’t talk to the Foresters, but you know they eat cream cheese bagels on their breaks and throw birthday parties and once you saw the branch manager squeezing a salesman’s shoulder and telling him he had done a good job. His fingers squeezed down and the movement of the fabric revealed a shoulder pad built into the suit. You remember thinking it was a shame that it blocked the real touch. 

Today, you walk up the stairs with heavy steps and you idle into the office building, eyes cast down to the dirty, gray carpet. You begin the long trek into the back of the building where your desk is located.

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Tina.

“Morning, Tina,” you mumble back.

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Gerard. 

“Morning, Gerard,” you mumble back. 

“Morning.”

“M-”

Wait a minute. 

Your greeting falls short. You don’t recognize that voice. Stopping in your tracks, your shoes scratch on the rough carpet, and lift your head to see him. 

The first thing you notice is that he’s the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. He looks like he jumped out of an underwear commercial; he’s all strong jawline, sharp eyes, round glasses on his pretty nose, neatly trimmed, short dark hair stretching down the planes of his face. He’s wearing a button up (usually you wouldn’t even register the clothing your coworkers adorned, but something about how he wore it was noteworthy), a tie draping over the dress shirt, and formal slacks hugging his thighs. 

He smiles at you sheepishly, hands nervously smoothing down his thighs. 

“I’m Wonwoo” he says curtly, nodding to you. “Just transferred from the Wallingset branch.” 

You nod. “Right. Wallingset,” you nod more. “Nice to meet you. I’m Y/n.” 

“Nice to meet you too, Y/n.” 

Something about your name on his lips makes your heart flutter. It’s pathetic, you know, but his peregrine being in his office chair, spilling your name from his pink lips makes you feel a little more real. You look at him and then you nod again-again, kicking your legs into gear again and walking the last stretch to your desk. 

You can see the back of his head from your orange-wood desk. Papers and sticky notes are scattered among the desktop. The monitor watches you accusingly, all big and square and black, waiting for you to open it up and begin working. Your eyes linger on him for a moment. Then you work. 

A few hours pass on emails and translating information from a company into a comprehensive sheet. However, today you’re having a hard time focusing on work. 

This is not new. 

Sometimes you briefly talk to a man at the grocery store, and your mind will wander to him for next week, wondering if he’s thinking about you too, imagining yourself cuddling with him, watching movies, imagining him telling you it’ll all be okay. Sometimes you briefly talk to a man on the street, sometimes it’s even a date, but whatever the case you obsess and you dream and you always end up alone. 

Today the victim of your depraved mind is Wonwoo. The guilt is easy to push away. You feel sorry for yourself. You think you deserve this. You think you can’t survive without this. And so you imagine him hugging you, stroking your hair, and you imagine him falling in love with you, and you imagine not being alone. Your fingers rest on your keyboard. It’s old and mechanical. You think it’s from a yard sale, probably an old woman whose children moved away. It’s plastic, and it curves inwards underneath the pads of your fingertips. The keys are cold and dead. 

You fully zone out, eyes blearing into the back of his head, but you don’t really see it, your mind has traveled elsewhere. You guiltily imagine his hand between your legs, on your chest, straddling him, kissing him. And it’s not rough, it’s loving, because in this world he loves you, and he’d do anything for you, and you don’t have to be alone again.

You don’t love Wonwoo. It’s not some magical love at first sight, it’s not a romance book, it’s real life. You’re lonely. You need this to survive. 

“Hey, Y/n?” 

You snap your head up. Maybe you were still daydreaming. But you recognized the voice well and true, and it was Wonwoo, leaned over your desk, hands in his pockets.

“Oh, uhm, hey-” your voice is shaky and you quickly rush to compose yourself, hands moving frantically and uselessly to glide papers over one another and, then, realizing that there was no point to your movements, stilling and looking up at him, cheeks flushed. “Hey.” 

Wonwoo smiles gently. “Uh, you know, I was wondering,” he looks around the office, as if surveying the area. “If you knew where to get a good lunch? I don’t know this area at all, so..” 

He trails off, looking at you expectantly for an answer. Now that he’s standing before you, it’s much harder to ignore the guilt you feel. You wanna gnaw at your nails until they’re nubs, you want to crawl under your desk and cover your eyes. Does he see how red your cheeks are? 

“Uhm- well- I don’t- I eat a packed lunch, so I’m-” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I’m, uh, no expert,” you giggle awkwardly and watch his gentle smile drop into pursed lips. “But! Uh- I hear the- the hot dog stand, uh, just a little down the street is good!” 

“Really? Maybe I should try it,” he contemplates, smile returning to his lips. “Would you mind showing me this mysterious hot dog stand?” 

“Uh-” 

Just seconds before you were thinking of his fingers in your pussy, and his hands caressing you, and him making you feel loved. He’s standing before you and he’s a totally normal guy, and you feel like shit. You feel like shit for using this fake image of him to comfort yourself. You can’t be around him, can’t convince yourself that maybe this’ll turn into something more - not when you always end up alone. Your brows furrow in determination.

“Actually, I have to, uh, get this done, so-” you gesture vaguely to your monitor. 

“Right! Yeah,” Wonwoo seems embarrassed, biting his lips and nodding. “It’s, uh, just down the street?” 

“Yeah, to the right when you walk out the building.” 

“For sure. Thanks,” he doesn’t even look at you then, just waves you off half-heartedly and starts trailing down the office. His shoulders are incredibly broad and his belt wraps tightly around his small waist.

You feel like shit.  _____________________________

Why is no one else cursed? 

You look out of the window, lying on your bed after work. Everything is very still and unmoving - your whole apartment feels like it’s knotted in strings, tightened until everything is snapped into place, and if you move the wrong muscles, the invisible hands will let go and everything will fly and hurdle through your home, and you can almost hear the sound, like the hard, empty sound of throwing a bowling ball and getting a strike. 

No one else is cursed. People crowd the streets with friends, family, partners, and they’re talking and laughing. You rest your head in the windowsill, a lone spectator in the window. The glass cuts you off from the streets. 

The afternoon after daydreaming the way you did about Wonwoo is always hard. Your apartment seems intent on suffocating you. Your daydreams serve as a reminder that you’re alone, that you truly have no one, and the act itself is so humiliating, you sulk into a glass of red wine and sometimes you cry. What do normal people do when they feel this bad, you wonder again, sobbing in your bed and spilling wine on your nightie. 

Nighttime falls early while you’re crying. You weep on and off, hug your knees, eat a microwave dinner and watch TV, light casting onto your pathetic form on the couch.

And in your most vulnerable state is when you most easily slip into your old habits. 

You press an old contact in your phone, one you’d tried to steer away from recently. You wipe mascara from your reddened cheeks, you wear pretty lingerie, and you lie, completely empty, void of any warmth, on your bed, awaiting.

It’s the first time he touches you in months. When his hand finds your shoulder, you shudder terribly. Sorry, he says, and he seems taken aback. Just ignore it, you plead, just ignore it. He does so, unsurely, and every time his hand grazes over your body you shudder and sob and every time he hesitates, asking if you’re okay, you cry at him to continue.

It feels good while it’s happening. Skin beneath your fingertips, hands on you, a face close to yours. You and him are the only thing moving in the apartment, synergizing on your bed, conjoining and writhing, and for just a moment, you don’t feel so alone. 

When you’re done the anonymous man stands back up, sliding on his pants in the late hour. He says it was great and you hum. But then he looks around, hesitating on every old piece of furniture, on every photo on the walls, and lastly on you.

“What?” you ask, lying naked in your bed. He grimaces at you, as if signaling that he can’t quite figure it out himself. 

“I don’t know,” he says slowly, hands on his newly-clothed hips and surveying the corners of the room, where shadows pool. “It feels haunted in here.” 

He leaves. 

When the warmth is gone, the bile rises in your throat. Old habits die hard, you think, and you feel totally empty. You couldn’t go on like this. It was nights like these you began to feel like a martyr - sacrificing yourself for a brief escape. Because when the door is closed with a click and you’re alone again, you feel yourself trembling and your heart is glowing red in the empty astral plane. Brief, easy forms of pleasure are often the most harmful.

It feels haunted in here. You remember his words, and before you finally fall asleep, you wonder one thing. You wonder if you’re already dead.  _____________________________

The next day is a pain to overcome. You’re slightly hungover, slightly sore, and very uncomfortable. But you comply with your routine, and you enjoy the bus ride, and when you get to the office everyone greets you. 

 “Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Tina.

“Morning, Tina,” you mumble back.

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Gerard. 

“Morning, Gerard,” you mumble back. 

“Morning, Y/n,” Wonwoo says. You look up from the carpet carefully, flashing him an apologetic smile. You hope he can read its intention: Sorry about being weird yesterday. You think he got it.

“Morning, Wonwoo.” 

And then you’re landing yourself at your own desk and beginning work once more. It’s boring, but today you ward off the daydreams and you focus, and you’re getting an exceptional amount done. 

The clock on the wall (off-white, but yellowing near the top) reads 12:28 when your boss, Stan, approaches your table. He’s half bald, and his suit is much too loose, and he has a ladder of wrinkles climbing his larger-than-life forehead. 

“Hey, N/n!” he calls, so loud that a couple of heads turn at the commotion. You’ve asked him several times not to call you that. 

“Stanley,” you breathe, tapping a stack of papers on your desk to neaten the pile. You wonder if you were in trouble, but if his smile is anything to go by, you’d guess not. 

“My favorite woman in accounting!” 

“Hehe,” you laugh half-heartedly. You catch the eye of Wonwoo, glancing over his shoulder with a small, teasing smile. You smile back. 

“I have a big- oh wait, wait, new guy, uhh, Jeon? Come over here real quick!” Suddenly his solid fingers waft the now scared Wonwoo over. The spectacled man’s shoulders hunch up as he moves off the chair, nodding respectfully. Wonwoo stands beside Stanley at your desk, and you focus your attention on Stanley, hoping to not get too lost in the idea of Wonwoo again - you were doing so good today. 

“I have a big job for you, and I thought you could work with Wonwoo on it,” Stan moves his hand up to cup the side of his mouth, as if telling you a big secret, “seeing as he was a bit of a star over in Wallingset.”

Shit. The guy you were daydreaming about was working with you? Wonwoo laughs, embarrassed, but you hardly have time to catch it. You can’t do this. Yesterday you were thinking about him fingering you while looking at you lovingly!

“We have a massive, new client! Just dropped a big competitor of ours, and they want us to do their six month report!” Stanley seems genuinely excited about this, so you can’t help feeling a little guilty that you’ll be a gobbering, slobbering mess, sitting beside Wonwoo on this. 

“That’s great-”

“I know! So, my two star members in accountancy, I’ll hand this off to you. The data should be coming into your emails soon,” without letting either of you react, Stanley hunches over, like a coach does before a little-league baseball game, wrapping his arms around both of you and Wonwoo. “You got this, troopers!” 

Stanley claps his hands on both of your backs, so hard you jerk forward at the movement, and then he bounces off to the elevator at the far end of the room. You sigh heavily from the interaction. It’s quiet for a moment, while you fiddle with the papers in front of you.

“What a guy,” Wonwoo muses finally, thin fingers resting on the edge of your desk. You giggle, unable to look him in the eye for fear that you might remember how you’d thought about starting a family with him. “Yeah.”

You and Wonwoo settle into an unoccupied meeting room, and it’s all very professional. Markers and post-its, trying to find the best way to structure the report, excel sheets to categorize and overlook data, double check numbers. 

However bad you think it’s going to be, you’re wrong. Wonwoo is easy to talk to - he’s quiet, but he’s intelligent, and he understands how to bring on conversation, even when you fold in on yourself like a used napkin. 

“Yeah, we used to steal signs from our neighborhood,” Wonwoo admits halfway into a conversation about your hometowns. “I don’t think that’s gonna fly anymore.” 

“Why stop now? You’re letting societal rules hold you back,” you joke, and the two of you laugh, and it’s so pathetic, you’re certain you haven’t laughed this much in years, and the conversation has lasted maybe 20 minutes. 

“Well, I could show you the craft, you know, it’s a delicate process-” 

While Wonwoo talks your phone buzzes and you absent-mindedly pick it up, reviewing the notification.

Your grin drops. Faintly, you hear Wonwoo stop talking. He tilts his head to study the way you frown at the screen. “What’s up?” he asks. 

It’s the guy from last night and he’s asking if you’ll be available again tonight. 

Maybe it’s how you could almost forget it - how you let yourself into positions that would hurt you, just to feel seen and heard and touched. Maybe it’s the dichotomy of that encounter and now, talking to Wonwoo, and having the laughter steal away the loneliness. But you’re reminded so terribly of your position. You’re reminded that this, too, will end, and that the loneliness will return. You’re reminded that once the shift ends, you’re alone again. 

Suddenly you’re a thousand daggers all pointing out. You shield yourself. 

“Uh,” you trail off, putting the phone down again. “Just some guy.” 

Wonwoo’s eyebrows raise. “Boyfriend?” 

“No!” you say quickly. “No, he’s, uh. Just some guy.” 

A pause. 

“Okay,” Wonwoo says. You don’t even remember where you left off the conversation. You bite your lip because everything is all agony. The table is cold and dead beneath your hand. 

“I’m thinking we group these together,” you say, eyes now tuned to your screen and fully submerged back into your work. Work. That was all that could cover your beaten down, cursed self. 

The rest of the shift you feel Wonwoo looking at you carefully, as if he’s trying to read you. You don’t talk about yourselves anymore, no more banter, no more witty comments. You structure the report, and try to ignore how his eyes laser you open. You don’t like it. You feel like he can tell you’re a pathetic, lonely woman and that you have nothing and no one. You feel like he can sense the curse upon you. 

This would be torture.  _____________________________

It is not torture. 

The next day, to your surprise, Wonwoo is nowhere to be seen. You wait 5, 10, then 15 minutes in the meeting room you’d camped in, before you begin working on your own. It’s slower without him, but you manage. 

You can’t help but slightly worry about him. It feels stupid. You know you’re putting too much emotion into a person you’d known for two days, but you can’t help it. You wonder if he’s gotten hurt or injured, or if maybe he hates you and has transferred back. You think even Excel finds you pathetic. 

You sit there for three hours, among the ruins of paperwork and your open laptop, running your hand through your hair and typing in sentences that mean nothing, and the wallpaper is off-white and yellowing at the top, and the blinds are closed to the meeting room. 

Around 1 PM the door to the meeting room is opened, wood smacking against the glass that surrounds it, and Wonwoo stands in the doorway, slightly out of breath. You snap your head up to him, like the jerk of a lifeless doll, suddenly interrupted from a very disorganized Excel sheet.

“Hi, shit, sorry,” he gasps, slinging his bag off of his shoulder to sit down next to you. 

“Are you okay?” you ask immediately, and Wonwoo nods blindly, pulling his laptop out of his bag. “Yeah,” he says, cheeks slightly flushed and licking his lips. “My cat- my cat needed surgery, she got sick last night, it was an emergency.” 

You nod in understanding, “it’s okay-” 

You can hardly get the words out before Wonwoo rolls his chair back, wheels resounding hollowly on the floor, so he can look at you clearly. “I’m really sorry about this, it was not nice of me to leave you alone with this.” He gestures vaguely to the scattered papers, and you shake your head.

“It’s okay, Wonwoo, I get it,” you say reassuringly, peering up at him through your lashes. “You don’t need to worry about it. You’re here now.” 

Wonwoo seems less intent on personal conversations today - it’s probably because he was so late, and now is trying to make up the time. But it’s okay, in fact you’re somewhat relieved, because it dampens the false hope that blooms in your chest, whenever he asks you about your life. 

Even if you and Wonwoo work hard and quietly, you slip into the late hours of the night in an attempt to keep on track for your schedule. Outside the windows that separate you from real life, the sky turns orange, and then dark, muted blue, and stars begin dotting its impressive stretches. People begin to leave around five, and by the time you and Wonwoo finish all your work, you’re the last ones left on your floor of the office. 

Wonwoo lets out a loud sigh when he finally finishes the second segment of your report, and the both of you slump back in your seats. 

“It’s so fucking late,” Wonwoo limply throws his hand in the direction of the window. You smile a little, looking out. Smaller buildings spawn geometrically from the ground, and every once in a while someone walks by with their dog, spotlighted by the stretch of street lamps that stand outside the parking lot. “I really am sorry about this, you know. Really ruined your night,” he says quietly. 

You shake your head. “It’s fine, I had nothing to come home to anyway.” 

There’s a pause.

Wonwoo looks at you intensely. Oh shit, you realize, was that too obvious? Was that too pathetic? Has it just clicked that you’re a loser that no one wants? You nervously look back at him, but there’s no malice in his eyes. A totally unreadable expression adorns his features, where he’s leaned back in his leather chair, legs spread invitingly. You look away, feeling dumb. 

“At least we followed our schedule!” you say. Wonwoo snorts.

“Yeah, thanks to you. If you hadn’t completed so much before I got here, it would’ve been hopeless.” 

Now it’s your turn to scoff, blushing lightly and looking at the linoleum flooring. “I don’t know about tha-” 

“Seriously, Y/n, just take the compliment,” Wonwoo reaches a hand over, and you watch its movement.

It’s like time slows down, not like the movies, no, like you can stop time with the heavy weight of your gaze, pinning his muscles in place. But you can’t, and it lands on your shoulder with a soft thud. Fuck. His hand is warm and alive on you. 

“You did so well today, I-” Wonwoo cuts himself off, because suddenly you’re trembling. 

He feels your body shuddering and jerking under his hand, like the wind rattles your door when you leave it open, and he can’t see your face behind a curtain of hair, but he hears you gasp, and, fuck, you look like you’re sobbing. 

The man from last night had become so hesitant when you reacted this way. When your body trembled and shook and when you cried, but Wonwoo seems to understand. He peers at you from above the rims of his glasses, and his hand stays put right there on your shoulder. 

“Y/n,” he whispers, so sincere it causes a pathetic squeak to escape you. What must he think of you? The thoughts spiral and you can’t control a single one of them, they dance like freed souls in your head, and you can’t stop the spasming of your muscles, and you know you look so pathetic beside him right. “Y/n, look at me.” 

You don’t. You can’t. You can’t because there are tears spilling from the rims of your eyes, and rolling down your cheeks, wet and glossy. Besides, you’re an ugly crier. 

“Look at me,” he says seriously, finger tightening on your shoulder. You try to steady your breath and calm your tears, before you obey and begin to turn your chair. The simple motion requires so much effort - it’s like the air has become so thick, that the friction against your leather seat slows you down. 

Finally you turn to him, eyes first resting on his knees, then, carefully, traveling up to his face. He’s frowning. 

Your face is reddened and your eyes are puffy, your cheeks are shiny and you chew your bottom lip in a futile attempt to keep the tears at bay. 

Wonwoo looks genuinely devastated. The hand on your shoulder softens its grasp, then begins petting your arm, rubbing up and down. The action has you choking out gasps, trembling even more in his hold, and Wonwoo feels the need to roll his chair closer to you, so his other hand can grab yours. His thumb rubs over the back of it, and he lowers his head to look at you. 

“Shh, relax, relax, Y/n,” he whispers, and you try to nod, but it’s so overwhelming; being touched, being seen, being heard, all at once. For months, maybe years, no one has touched you like this - as if they care. Now the feeling is foreign, so scorching hot on your arm and your hand, your body can’t take it anymore. You’re stuck between wanting to lean into his hands, wanting to feel how real you are, and how physically true your existence is, and wanting to shy away. What must he think of you? 

“Y/n,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut to banish the sigh of your sobbing. “When was the last time someone touched you?” 

You hiccup painfully. “Uhm- I- I don’t, ” your eyes are bleary and your lashes are wet. Your lip trembles and your whole body shakes when you try to breathe. 

Apparently this was enough of an answer for Wonwoo, because he suddenly stands, somewhat harshly tugging you into a standing position too, and pulls you directly into the harbor of his arms. 

Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his torso. His chest is pressed flat against yours, so, so warm, when he nudges your head into the crook of his neck, and presses his face against its side, sighing softly into you, and breathing warm air onto your hair. His palms push you into him, soothing your trembling body, and holding you like an anker. One hand travels up to your hair. 

“W-Wonwoo, you don’t have to-”

“Shh,” he quiets you immediately, voice the softest wind of a peach tree. “Just let me take care of you.” 

You do. Wonwoo holds you until you stop crying, and though it must’ve been twenty minutes or so, it feels like no time at all. Standing in his space, breathing in his dark cologne, and letting his heat thaw your dead heart is a totally timeless act. Joy and serenity flows from the places where your bodies touch. When you stop crying, Wonwoo holds you for longer. 

Eventually, he lets you go. 

You step back sheepishly, now much calmer and the red in your face faded. You wipe your tired eyes shyly with your sleeve. 

“Thank you, Wonwoo,” you mumble, voice thick and garbled. When you look up at him, he smiles softly, although it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he says softly, arm extending one last time to squeeze your forearm. Then it falls limp again. 

“I, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” 

“Of course.” 

When you return home, you’re buzzing. Your entire apartment buzzes along with you, things seem to clatter and beam along with the bright, glowing of your heart. You snuggle into bed and nothing is still and even when you’re drifting into sleep, your nerve endings spin in joyful circles, and your feet are a static hum. Suddenly you are very, very real. _____________________________

You’d think the next day would be tense and awkward, and maybe it is at first, but soon enough you’re talking again, more intimately than before even. 

This is Wonwoo’s doing - you know this. You know he’s smart and you know he doesn’t want you to feel bad, so he makes conversation and builds trust between the two of you. You know he hopes you don’t feel insecure. Every word he says and every flick of his eyes is riddled with it. 

The conversation decidedly slows down your progress, so Wonwoo once more suggests staying overtime. You look at him for a moment before agreeing. 

You can’t tell what his end goal is. A chamber of your heart has been revived and rebirthed, and you’re more chipper, more bouncy, but the rest of your heart insists: you’re still cursed - eventually it’ll go back to how it should be. You listen. You try not to get your hopes up that Wonwoo really cares about you. Why should he, really?

Although when you’re done for the day, about an hour after your usual 5 PM, you stand up and begin to pack your things, laptop sliding into your bag and clustering pens in your hand. It’s gray outside, but the sun comes in a single strand through a gap in the smog and the clouds. The wind hoots by the windows, and it smells like the indian you ordered for lunch together. 

You stop your packing, feeling a set of eyes in your back. You twist your head to see him.

Wonwoo is sitting completely still in his chair, slack-covered legs spread open, and he makes no move to collect his own things. He just stares. 

“What’s up?” you quip. You’re slightly nervous. Just before it was all silly childhood stories, college and weed and life before the dead-end job. Now Wonwoo has that unreadable expression on his face again. 

He slowly lifts his hands from the armrest, eyes locked with yours, and claps his palms on the tops of his thighs. 

Your eyebrows furrow. 

“Wha-” 

“Come here,” he says simply. When you stand completely still, like a deer in the headlights, Wonwoo scoffs and rolls his eyes. “What? You think you’re cured because someone hugged you once?” 

“Cured?”

“You’re touch-starved, Y/n,” Wonwoo states matter-of-factly, “you need to be touched.” 

“Touch-starved?” you echo, a bewildered expression on your face.

“We can also just hug, like yesterday,” he suggests calmly. You envy his collectedness. “I just don’t want you to feel bad. So please. Come sit.”

To emphasize, Wonwoo pats his thighs again, patiently. You step away from your bag with hesitating steps, pursing your lips. Your cheeks blaze when you look at his thighs again - they’re so long, and the folds in his slacks stretch down and centralize on his crotch and- You’re being a pervert. 

“Okay,” you squeak and Wonwoo tuts. Why is that hot, you think, why the hell is that hot?

“We can just hug if you-” 

You feel bold.

Without letting him finish, you swing your leg over his, and plop down, straddling halfway down his thighs. You thank God you put pants on this morning instead of a skirt, when you look down at where you rest on top of him. 

Wonwoo is a little taken aback, but when you’ve settled on him, his hands find your waist and he looks up at you with a hum. Your breathing is a little shaky. Once again his hands provide a pumping of golden joy into your body, and more of you comes alive and becomes real, and you smile. 

What had Wonwoo been talking about? Touch-starved?

“What’s, um-” your question is cut off with a gasp, when Wonwoo uses his hands on your middle to tug you closer. You rest on the highest point of thighs that you can without sitting on his dick. Cheeks red and eyes squeezed shut, you hear how Wonwoo hums, pleased. “What were you talking about? Touch-starved?” you whisper, keeping your eyes shut. 

Wonwoo sighs, and once more, like the movement is entirely replayed, his hand finds your hair and pushes your face into the crook of his neck. You sigh against it, enjoying how his arms protect you and hide you from the evil of the world. 

“If you don’t touch anyone,” Wonwoo begins, his voice low bass in your ear, “you become touch-starved. That’s why you reacted the way you did yesterday.” 

His hands run up and down your sides. 

“But- but I’m not crying today,” you say quietly into his neck. Wonwoo hums.

“No, that’s good,” he says. “We can stop if you really want, I just wa-”

“No!” your voice squeaks immediately, and, as if he were running from you, you fist his shirt to keep him close. 

“Okay,” there’s a smile in Wonwoo’s voice. You can’t see it but you can imagine it. 

Comfortable silence. Wonwoo traces patterns on your back and you breathe deeply against the skin of his neck. The two of you function as one living thing, the only living thing left in the office. Chairs are turned halfway, a couple lights are left on. The desks betray the past presence of humans. 

“Wonwoo,” you pip. 

“Mhm?” 

“You don’t have to do this, you know? I don’t want you to do it if you- if it’s just.. Pity.” 

Wonwoo sighs, and you feel the way his torso deflates underneath you. He trails his hand up from your back to tap your cheek. You move back and look at him. 

Your faces are very close, you can feel how your exhales collide and then scatter, hell, you think you could count each of his eyelashes from here. 

“I already told you. I’m doing this because I don’t want you to feel bad. I-” he hesitates for a moment, pursing his lips. “I’ve been there. So I know what it’s like.” 

The thought of Wonwoo feeling like this, like you, is sickening. Genuinely sickening, you feel your insides turn to rot and mold and you frown so deeply, you think your lips might forever lock in that position. 

“I’m okay now,” he reassures, reading you immediately. His hand finds your cheek and he almost cries out at the way you lean into it blindly. 

“How did you-.. I- I always thought it was, like, a lifelong curse,” you say.

“A curse?” Wonwoo grins, thumb stroking over the skin of your cheek. It makes you happy, it makes you feel like your heart will burst. 

“Yeah. I guess I just blamed some old woman from my hometown,” you giggle, blushing a little because, yes, it did sound stupid when you weren’t just echoing the theory to yourself, like playing a team sport alone. 

“You’re not cursed,” Wonwoo promises, tucking your head into his chest. “I’ll help you, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you from now on.” 

He does take care of you. 

Every day you work overtime, and every day when you’re done with work, Wonwoo slides you into his lap and holds you, while you curl up in his chest. Then you talk and you laugh, and you listen to each other's music. His hands run warm up your back and in your hair and on your hips, gentle caresses, deeply intimate. For two weeks you and Wonwoo indulge in this nighttime ritual. 

You have not felt lonely since that night. And Wonwoo can tell. Your skin is warmer and brighter, you smile wider, your eyes twinkle, and there’s energy in every movement. Your body thaws under his warm hands every night, and sometimes when you smile, he gets so happy he could kiss you. 

You realize you like Wonwoo one particular night when you’re falling asleep in your bed and you can still feel the ghost of his arms around you and it lulls you into a deep, dreamless sleep, and when you wake up you smell a little bit like his cologne. That’s how you realize. You like how considerate and how gentle he is, you like how sweet he is to you, you like how he looks when he smiles and when he laughs and you like how much he loves his cat. You like how his arms feel wrapped around you. 

And you like him, and suddenly your apartment is a song that you dance in, and every photo on your walls is smiling and your bed is always warm and so is your heart. 

There’s nothing dead in here, you think, when you cook a delicious meal on the stovetop, sauce bubbling in a stainless steel pan. Nothing haunted about your home or your heart. _____________________________

“We’re almost done.” 

“Mhm.” 

“I can’t believe we’re almost done!” 

Wonwoo looks up, bemused, lips made small and pointed. You’re staring at the almost-done document, scrolling up and down through long and arduous paragraphs. It’s nighttime again - not that you had to stay late today, it was a choice - and the city glimmers brilliantly in the coolness. You and Wonwoo wear sweaters to keep warm. 

“Feels like a lifetime,” Wonwoo murmurs, same smile upon his beautiful face. His cheekbones point out from beneath his skin. 

“Yeah,” you breathe, leaning back. You won’t put your fingers back on the keyboard. Not when it could be done so soon. You look at him, all snuggled up in a brown sweater. “What if..” 

A pause. He tilts his head.

“Well, are we still gonna talk?” you chew your lip dejectedly, feeling a little sad and desperate, but Wonwoo only laughs. It’s a beautiful sound, it’s one you associate with joy. 

“Of course,” he says, as his laughter quiets down. “If you want to.” 

A shy smile forms on your lips. You turn to look back at the computer, but you hear the now-familiar sound of Wonwoo patting his thighs. You flit your eyes back to him, teasingly scolding.

“We’re not done.” 

“We don’t have to be done now,” he shrugs, an equally teasing smile on his lips. You roll your eyes, but, unsurprisingly, you shift over to him, sitting down in his lap. He immediately tugs you closer, fingers searching for stimulation on the seams of your jeans. There’s something different about Wonwoo today, you realize, his touch is more feverish, his fingers dig deeper into the fat of your hips and he looks up at you like you’re a diamond-encrusted chandelier, hanging from the ceiling, all glittering jewels. 

“What’s up?” you giggle nervously. It’s becoming hard to breathe with the way he paws at your hips. 

There’s something in the air between you, but maybe you’re imagining it. Maybe it’s your mind playing tricks on you, concocting the magnetic pull that lingers between you, the thicker, heavier air, that urges you closer. 

He sighs heavily, as if he was dreading this. All of a sudden composed, cool, icy Wonwoo is chewing his lip and avoiding your eyes, looking instead down where your fat gives way for his needy fingers. 

“I, uh, I really like you, Y/n,” his voice shakes. “Would you. Maybe. Want to go out some time?” 

At the last syllable his gaze locks on to yours, and you watch him visibly relax, because you’re fucking grinning. 

Not maliciously, not crudely, not a dime or a dab of evil, only genuine joy. 

“I-I would like that,” you control your smile, pointing your lips in the same way that Wonwoo does and blushing all over. Wonwoo grins too and it’s unbearably boyish. 

“Okay,” he says, as if he can’t believe it. “Okay. Great.” 

The window slams shut, the spell is undone by his hand, the dead defy their only law to bow to his necromancy. Wonwoo is alive and warm underneath you, and you are alive and warm on top of him, thighs pushed up against his and tugging at the fabric of his shirt. Your balloon of heart pops in your chest, and the bone-cage of your chest is filled with helium, that has you floating. Rosy and shiny, your heart beats at twice its normal speed.

There’s a lull in the conversation. It would’ve been a more comfortable silence, if you couldn’t see by how Wonwoo looks down and purses his lips, that he’s itching to say more. 

Sparked by his confession, you confidently snake your hand up to tap his cheek lazily. He turns to you with a loafy smile. “What is it?” 

He breathes out unsteadily.

“You’re-” he closes his eyes. “There’s so much I like about you. It- It makes me feel really bad that you weren’t feeling well, so I-” 

He cringes at himself, one hand pushing away his glasses to rub the eyes underneath them. 

“Can I make you feel better?” he asks vaguely. 

You huff out a laugh. “Are you trying to ask if I want to have sex?” 

He laughs too, behind his big hand. “No. It’s not the same, I want it to be about you!” 

You laugh more, and Wonwoo’s face reappears as he lowers his hand. He looks up at you adoringly, dotingly. He’s smiling.

“I’m being serious,” he says quietly, when you finish. He seems less embarrassed now, more so smug. “I want to make you feel good.” 

He’s paying an awful lot of attention to your hips, which he has not let up massaging and squeezing roughly. 

“Can I..?” he begins, eyes fixed on your hips in his lap. “Can I make you cum?” 

Then, slowly, Wonwoo lifts his hands and gently places them around on your face. His touch is always as soft as a hope-laced wind. He’s warm and he’s alive and he’s holding onto you, and you see it in his eyes: you’re real, you’re right underneath my fingertips. 

“Please.”

That’s all he needs, before he presses his lips against yours.

The kiss is everything you want it to be; because it’s loving. It’s slow, it’s deep, it’s gentle, there’s no tongue, just the soft, warm, real, alive flows of his lips against your own. His hands on both of your cheeks caress your cheekbones gently, and warm air is spilled in the small space between you. He pulls away, panting. 

“I don’t understand it,” he mumbles, before he’s pressing his lips back to yours hungrily. You let out a confused hum, and you have to gently push at his shoulder to back him off again. “What do you mean?” you ask.

“Why you were so alone,” he breathes, transfixed on your lips. “I want to be with you all the time.” 

Before you can respond, Wonwoo grips the underside of your thighs, lifting you and himself from the chair and placing you on the desk. You gasp at the impact when the glass table meets your bottom, and Wonwoo is standing over you, suddenly so tall and so broad, and slimming at the waist. His narrow eyes become hooded behind the reflection of his glasses. His head is tilted down to meet yours.

“Can I take off your clothes, pretty?” 

You don’t answer, only grip the edge of your shirt, tugging it over your head, so your bra-clad chest is exposed to him. He groans at the sight. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles, nimble fingers dancing across your back to unclip the bra, sucking in a harsh breath the fabric becomes loose, sliding down your arms. “Such a pretty girl.” 

“Stop,” you whisper, face warm and red. Your heart has never beat this way. It’s utterly unbearable and addicting at the same time, it’s without rhythm or class, it’s wild. And it’s because he’s looking at you and it’s not just lust. It’s adoration. There are deeper strings to the make-up of his eyes, there are lines connected to his heart, and he’s all flushed.

“What?” he asks. “I’m just telling you the truth.” 

Wonwoo throws your bra on the floor next to him, hands finding the hem of your pants. “Can I take your pants off?” 

You nod, still so shy and abashed, because Wonwoo’s eyes feel like a pink spotlight, and you are bathed in its warmth. He unbuttons your pants and you gently slide off the table to work them off your legs. 

“Your panties are cute,” Wonwoo remarks (it should feel lewd, but he has a hand on your hip, that brushes the bone and he smiles at it). “Thank you,” you breathe, before you’re taking them off too.

Wonwoo doesn’t need to, but he still insists on gently lifting you back onto the table, and he kisses your nose when you’re sitting before him. He’s standing in between your legs, and then he’s looking down at where wetness drips onto the glass table. 

His hand slides down your stomach, resting on the fat of it. He’s smiling, he’s so gorgeous, because he’s smiling the most gentle smile at how wet you are and how it leaks onto the table and his hand is so warm on your stomach, doing nothing, yet turning you on even more than you’d ever been before.

He sighs like he’s carrying the greatest burden on his broad back. “You’re so pretty,” he says, almost exasperated by it. He pinches some of the fat of your stomach between his fingers lovingly. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this.” 

Then the hand on your stomach slides down further. His large, veiny hand cups your pussy, the tips of his fingers just barely teasing your hole. You whimper against him, hands finding his biceps for support. Wonwoo studies you, craning his neck down to peer at your face, while his fingers begin swaddling your folds. 

“You’re so wet, baby,” he mumbles, trying to catch your eye where you bury into his chest. One finger dips into your hole, penetrating slowly and settling knuckle-deep. 

“Wonnie!” you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Mmm, clenching down on Wonnie’s finger so hard. My beautiful girl.” 

He begins pushing his finger in and out of you, pace slow and torturous. His other hand slides up and down your body, squeezing your waist then your thigh, then coming right back up to fondle your chest. He pushes your back flat against the glass, so you’re all splayed out for him and you watch him from there, eyes hooded and legs spread to accommodate him. He breathes in shakily at the sight of you. 

“Shit, Y/n. What were you doing hiding all this from me?” His finger picks up the pace, as another finger slips in alongside it. You’re moaning and panting, lips red and hair mussed, unable to focus on his words, when his fingers curl against that spongy spot inside you. Apparently Wonwoo expects an answer though, because he speaks again, voice lower and rougher. “Hm? You didn’t want to go have lunch? What, was it that guy?”

“W-What?” 

“Just some guy,” Wonwoo echoes your past words, emphasizing with a harsh thrust of his fingers. 

“N-No, I- Hng!” you cry out, when Wonwoo’s thumb presses onto your clit. He rubs it torturously. “I-I was embarrassed because I- I was thinking about you!” 

“Oh?” this catches Wonwoo’s attention, as he diligently works his hand within you, staring down at your naked form, fully clothed and tall. “Tell me what you were thinking about, baby.” 

“This!” you cry out, too high off the pleasure to really feel embarrassed about it.

“Pretty, sweet, dumb baby. You were thinking about you whimpering and writhing while I fuck you with my hand, hm?”

“N-No,” you mumble, cheeks aflame. “W-Was thinking about you l-liking me.” 

At this Wonwoo hastily leans over you, pressing his lips onto yours again, and this time his tongue pries open your mouth, wet and warm in the cavern of your mouth. You moan into the kiss, hips canting into his hand. There’s something so desperate about him then, something so eager in the way he crooks his fingers, and how he kisses you, panting and covering your face in warm air. You feel a tight knot in your stomach.

“Cum on my fingers, please, pretty, sweet, baby, darling,” he mumbles into your mouth, rushing out the words before he’s sealing your lips again. 

“God, I think I might fall in love with you.” 

That makes you cum. You cum so fucking hard, clenching around his fingers like an air-tight seal, and your cum spills onto his fingers and his name spills into his mouth. The curse comes out with it, escaping like the air that spills out from an ancient, rediscovered chamber, and dissipating into the night. Your heart is beating and you’re breathing into his mouth, nose brushing his. 

“Good girl,” he breathes, finally releasing your lips and letting his lips fall heavy and wet on your cheek. 

He pulls out his fingers, unbearably wet and slick, and you think for a second that he’ll let you calm down and then maybe he’ll put his dick in you, but as soon as the fingers are out of you, they’re settling back on to your clit, rubbing heavy-handed circles.

You whine, arching your back off the table and wiggling your hips at the overstimulation. His other hand catches your hip and he shushes your cries softly. 

“You can cum again, can’t you, baby? You can take it,” he says, so nonchalantly, while his slick fingers rub you. You cry out. Your legs are shaking. “Think you can cum again from just this?”

“Y-Yes,” you sigh and when you look down, his entire hand covers your pussy, as he pets your clit in circles. He smiles at your words, pinching your clit teasingly. It causes a squeak to escape you, hips struggling against his hold, where he pins you to the table.

“Good girl,” he praises, purring. “Letting me use your pretty pussy like this, letting me make you feel good.” 

His body in front of you prevents your legs from closing, but, God, do they try, knees pinching his thin waist, and hair bunching up on the glass when your face scrunches up in pleasure. 

“A-a-ah!” you cry out. Your hips involuntarily begin to inch away from him, but Wonwoo pulls you back with one strong hand, tutting. 

“Don’t do that,” he mutters, pouting. “You need to be touched, remember?” 

The whole thing is so heart-achingly intimate. The way he stands, still fully clothed and with a huge fucking tent in his pants, simply rubbing your pussy and looking at you with heart-eyes. Seriously, eyes swimming with adoration for you, teasing words slipping from his mouth unable to mask the genuine wonder he feels, at how you gasp and you arch and you clean and you jerk from the simplest of his movements. And your pussy is so warm and wet under his hand, and his body between your legs is so warm, and you cum again from just that; from how much love he looks at you with, and from the fingers crooking to pinch your clit again, wet and swollen underneath his glistening fingertips. 

“W-Wonwoo!” you cry out, cumming again, and your body convulses around his, when it oozes out of your hole. Wonwoo’s fingers gently work you through it. His gaze on you is so intent, so careful and insistent, you can’t bear it, the way he sees you totally lost in the pleasure he brings you. 

“There you go,” he whispers gently, fingers letting up and disappearing from your pulsating pussy. 

“Wonwoo,” you mewl tiredly, pushing yourself onto your elbows to look up at him. He looks at you, so sweetly, so attentively, hands immediately finding your back to stabilize you. “Can I please have your cock now?” 

“We don’t have to-” 

“I want to!” you interrupt him, brows furrowed and lips in a pout. Wonwoo grins at that and though he may deny it, you don’t miss the red that twinges his cheeks. 

“It’s just if you were too tired..-” 

“I’m not,” you say decidedly, and Wonwoo nods. 

“Okay. C’mere then.” 

You’re confused when Wonwoo sits back down in the office chair, fingers working his slacks open. He doesn’t answer to your grimace though, only manages his pants unzipped and in one lift of his hips, peel both them and his boxers down. 

His cock springs free, and your confused grimace is replaced with one of awe. It’s pale and veiny, the head is red and thin, white liquid oozes from it, like melted candle wax. And it’s huge.

You’re too slow to mask your amazement, it seems, because when your eyes return to his face, he’s already looking at you, smiling smugly. 

“Come ride me, baby.” 

You don’t need to be told twice. You slide off the table eagerly, lumbering over to where he’s relaxed against the back of the chair. He looks up at you, all naked and pretty, with a grin. 

The top buttons of his dress shirt are unbuttoned, but he must’ve given up halfway. Either way, the milky plates of his chest are exposed, shining gloriously in the warm office light, and he discards his glasses, face fully exposed to you. He’s beautiful, and you think to tell him.

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, planting each leg around his, so you’re straddling him. Like your ritual, Wonwoo grips your middle and pulls you closer, but this time it’s even closer than normal. Your stomach meets his dick, all heavy and hot on your skin, and your breath hitches at the sensation. 

“You’re beautiful,” he teases, looking up at you. You smile. 

“Can I put it in?” you ask. 

“As if the answer was ever gonna be no?” 

You snort out a laugh, raising yourself by your thighs and gripping the base of his dick to steer him inside. He hisses at the feeling of your hand grappling with his impressive size, and he hisses once more when the head of his cock buries into your heat. 

His hands on your waist anchor himself while you slowly sink down, until he’s so fully sheathed in you, you think the tip of his cock must be brushing your heart, because it feels like it’s swinging in your chest. 

“You’re so big,” you whimper, clutching his broad shoulders, and scrunching the fabric on top of them. 

“Don’t say shit like that, I’m gonna cum, babe,” he grits out, fingers bruising your waist. You mewl, clutching his shirt. Then you begin to bounce. 

Your thighs flex on either side of him as you heave up and down his cock, the both of you gasping into each other, and clutching each other for stability. 

“Shit,” he pants out, genuinely out of breath. “Fuck, you’re the loveliest girl in the world.”

You cry out, pressure already welling in your stomach and burying yourself in his neck like you’ve always done, and it’s so intimate and he’s warm, and, fuck, he wants you. You can feel it in his grip, in his cock, in his words; he wants you more than anything. The thought makes you wanna cum. 

Wonwoo is not quiet at all. He grunts and whines and his words are strangled and garbled, but frequent, showering you in affection and praise, while you bounce eagerly on his huge cock. 

“You’re so pretty, baby.” 

“Your tits are so perfect, shit.”

“Pretty girl.” 

“Loveliest, prettiest, sweetest girl, bouncing on my cock, fuck.”

Praises spill from his lips in purrs, one after another, and when you cum you can’t help but return it tenfold. 

“Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonnie, fuck! Gonna- fucking cum, I think I’m- f-falling in love with you”

You and Wonwoo come alive. Cum spurts from his cock and into your pussy, and you both cry out, entangled and completing one another in the space where you meet. 

And it’s true, falling in love with him is so easy. And falling in love with you is easy too, you realize, because the second he’s spilled his cum in you, he pulls you from his neck to kiss you so deeply, so thoroughly, you think your lips might never unpuff from his hasty, bitten kisses. 

His cock, now soft, still inside you, his warm chest against yours, his nose nudging yours, his eyelashes fluttering against your skin, the kiss is totally perfect, and you’re warm, and the windows are all closed and fogged up and there’s no curse other than the most fatal and most perfectly tantalizing of them all: love. 

You are not alone. You’re sitting in his lap and you think if you give it a day or two more, you might want to spend the rest of your life with him. 

You catch your breaths. 

“You’re really good at that,” you say finally. He grins again, perfectly undone, hair tousled and cheeks flushed. “Yeah?” he asks. You hum. 

After some minutes of keeping him inside you, kissing lazily, running your hands over his pretty chest and arms, you pull back, beginning to flex your legs to pull him out of you. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, hands wafting to still your movements. You furrow your brows, confused. 

“Am getting your dick out of me?” 

His hands sink down on your hips heavily, fully encompassing his dick again. You sigh at the feeling. 

“Don’t do that, silly. You’re touch-starved, remember?” 

He tilts his head teasingly. 

“So why don’t you just sit snug on my cock, so you can get all the closeness you need?”

[ohimsummer]

✎ . . .❝ KISS ME, THEN. ❞

— poly! satosugu verse, satoru x reader, fluff, a first kiss :p, he’s such a lovesick fool My God.

Gojo doesn’t think he’s ever gotten totally lost in someone before; not like he has with Geto, anyway. But that was before he met you, a person who actually kept him intrigued and imbedded themself in his fickle thoughts. At some point after Shoko introduced you to them, he became trapped—blue of his eyes left wandering amidst the hue of yours, mind tangled in the string of your comebacks that rival his own. Gojo’s never met anyone else so good at keeping him on his toes.

“Kiss me, then.”

A lump shoves its way down his throat at your taunt. The sun has almost fully departed, spare edges of it peeping over the horizon to cast a golden light over the empty park. Deep shades of purple and orange cascade throughout the sky, a wondrous sight who’s an expert at captivating—but all Gojo can focus on is your lips, upturned in a smirk and coated in a distracting sheen of gloss.

Admittedly, his confession was bold, an ‘I want to kiss you’ that’s been lingering on his lips the last half hour you two have been talking. And your response was unexpected, as is a lot of your words and actions towards him and Geto. A playful remark to call his bluff, though the way you steadily eye his lips too pushes Gojo to believe you want him to kiss you just as much.

You sense a waver in his never ending confidence. “Well? I’m waiting.”

Blue eyes finally meet yours, and Gojo does an anxious nibble on his bottom lip. “Shut up. Give me a second.”

Aw, how cute, you think. “What, gotta hype yourself up first? Where’d all that confidence go, Satoru?”

The way you flow out his name to be swept away with the wind makes Gojo’s heart stutter. He could never answer your question, because admitting that your teasing words had drained him entirely of self-assurance filled his throat with sand. But if there was one thing Satoru Gojo was good at, it was faking.

He feels you tense beneath his tentative palm, cupping your face and your skin sets fire to his fingers. You’re warm, chasing the cold from his hand as he rubs a thumb over your soft cheek. Despite the playful smirk still gracing your lips, Gojo can recognize the anxiety in your eyes because you’re a faker, too.

Breath hitches, and you watch as he leans in a little closer, your heart pounding faster and faster as Gojo nears you. The faint smell of his cologne dances around in your nose, your restless fingers gently tugging the hem of his shirt. Your lips brush, and then he’s giving you a short peck, fleeting and cute and enough to have red painting him from ears to neck. Satoru lingers for a split second, desireful gaze on your lips still—you’re sweet, like the strawberry dessert he shared with you when you got here, and Gojo so desperately craves another taste. And you give him the perfect excuse to do so.

“Again.”

tagz: @anthoosies @staryukis :3