#Like they lived through this moment before but different

[moonlightwritingf1]

Number One | LN4

⋆꙳·̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙₊⋆ ͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ summary ━━━━━━━ At a Christmas party, Y/N nervously gives Lando a Secret Santa gift with a very special meaning. 

⋆꙳·̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙₊⋆ ͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

⋆꙳·̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙₊⋆ ͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ word count ━━━━━━━ 4.1k

⋆꙳·̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙₊⋆ ͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ author's note ━━━━━━━ I know I said I wouldn't be accepting requests until next month, but this request was so good that I had to write it.

The flat was warm with the familiar hum of Christmas music softly playing in the background. It was the kind of night where everything felt just right—the snow falling gently outside, the lights twinkling like stars, and the chatter of friends mingling with bursts of laughter. Pietra and Max, the evening's hosts, had turned their cozy London flat into a festive haven. Friends filled the space, each holding glasses of mulled wine or eggnog as they celebrated the holiday season together.

Y/N stood near the kitchen, quietly adjusting the string of lights on the small tree in the corner of the living room. The colorful lights reflected off her wool sweater, casting a soft glow. Her breath came out in puffs as she concentrated on the decorations, though her mind was elsewhere. Among the gathered friends was Lando Norris—the one person who had made her heart race from the moment they met.

Lando, with his easy grin and mischievous charm, stood out effortlessly. His glistening eyes had a way of locking onto hers, making her feel like the only person in the room. She had noticed his attention before, but tonight felt different. There was an energy between them that she couldn’t ignore, and it left her both nervous and exhilarated.

The evening had started hours earlier when Y/N braved the cold London air, walking briskly toward Pietra and Max’s flat. The holiday season had transformed the city; streets sparkled with twinkling lights, and festive window displays adorned every corner. Despite the magic of the season, Y/N carried mixed feelings about Christmas. It always reminded her of the fractured ties in her family—estranged relatives back in her home country, and the quiet distance that had grown between her and her parents after years of unresolved drama. The holidays, for her, were bittersweet.

Still, she pushed those thoughts aside. Tonight was meant to be about friendship, warmth, and celebration. Pietra and Max had created a safe space for their circle of friends, and Y/N cherished these moments of connection. She had met Lando through this same group a little over a year ago. From the start, it was clear that Lando had taken an interest in her.

His gestures were subtle yet unmistakable: lingering glances, playful teasing, and the way his demeanor softened when he spoke to her. Yet despite his obvious affection, Y/N had kept her emotions carefully guarded. Her shyness and cautious nature acted as walls she wasn’t ready to let down. Falling for someone like Lando—whose glamorous, fast-paced life was worlds apart from her own—felt too risky.

Y/N stepped into the flat, the familiar warmth wrapping around her like a comforting hug. The scent of cinnamon and pine filled the air, mingling with the soft hum of carols. She could hear bursts of laughter from the living room, where Pietra and Max had outdone themselves with their decorations. Strings of fairy lights crisscrossed the ceiling, and a massive Christmas tree stood proudly by the fireplace, its baubles catching the flickering light.

Tugging nervously at the hem of her sweater, Y/N’s fingers brushed over the gift she had brought with her. She had drawn Lando’s name for Secret Santa, and the thought of giving him something personal made her stomach flip. It was one thing to be around him in their usual group settings, where his flirtatious remarks were playful and easy to laugh off, but this felt different. Intimate.

She hadn’t seen him yet, though she knew he would be there. Her heart raced at the thought. Lando always had a way of making her feel seen, and for someone like her, who preferred blending into the background, that was as thrilling as it was terrifying. She’d spent so much time building walls to protect herself, but tonight felt like the night to take a chance—to allow herself to believe in the magic of the season, and maybe even in the possibility of something more.

''Y/N!" Pietra called out, her voice bright with excitement. “You made it!”

Y/N smiled and made her way over to her friend, who was standing next to Max. They greeted each other with a hug, and Y/N’s eyes briefly flicked around the room. There, near the corner by the Christmas tree, stood Lando. He was talking to some of the guys, but when he caught her gaze, he smiled that signature grin—the one that made her heart flutter in spite of herself. He was leaning casually against the wall, looking effortlessly handsome in a dark jacket and a white shirt that highlighted his toned frame. But it wasn’t just his appearance that captivated her. It was how he made her feel when he looked at her.

As their eyes met, the intensity of his gaze was enough to send a shiver down her spine. But she quickly looked away, trying to ignore the knot forming in her stomach. She had a gift to give, after all. Lando’s Secret Santa gift.

“Everything okay?” Pietra asked, noticing Y/N’s distracted expression.

Y/N blinked, snapping out of her thoughts. “Yeah, just... thinking.”

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately,” Pietra teased, a knowing smile on her lips. “I think you’re overthinking something.”

Y/N laughed nervously. “Maybe.”

“Just do it already,” Pietra said with a wink, nudging her toward Lando. “You’re both miserable, and I’m tired of watching you dance around each other.”

For the past few weeks, she’d been agonizing over what to get him. A Formula 1 driver. What did you get someone who had everything? After much thought, she’d come across the idea of something symbolic. Lando had achieved so much in his career, and though he hadn’t won the World Drivers' Championship yet, to her, he was already a champion. The T-shirt she’d ordered, with his name on the back, but instead of his usual number 4, it had the number 1. It was bold. It was daring. And it was her way of saying, in the quietest way she could, that she believed in him—no, more than that. She admired him. And more than anything, she wanted to show him that in the most personal of ways.

But the T-shirt wasn’t just a gift. It was a confession.

For months, Lando had been nothing but open with his affections toward her. He would tease her, give her that irresistible, sideways grin, and often say things that made her heart skip. Every time they were in the same room, it was impossible to ignore the way his gaze would linger just a second longer than necessary, the way he would find reasons to stand closer to her, brush his hand against hers. It had been maddening, especially since Y/N had tried so hard to keep her feelings hidden.

Tonight, however, something felt different. The atmosphere, the way Lando looked at her, the way she felt about him—it was all coming to a head. She could feel the pull of his gaze across the room, like a magnetic force. Every time she looked up, he was watching her.

After about an hour of mingling, Y/N found herself surrounded by a small group of friends, their laughter and easy conversation helping her momentarily forget the nerves fluttering in her chest. She sipped on her wine, smiling as one of Pietra’s friends recounted a particularly funny story about a disastrous skiing trip.

Despite her best efforts to stay engaged, her thoughts kept drifting to Lando. She could feel his presence in the room, even when she wasn’t looking. Every so often, her gaze would flicker to where he stood, effortlessly charming everyone around him. The way he laughed, the way his face lit up when he was telling a story—it was impossible not to notice.

“Y/N.” Pietra’s voice cut through her thoughts as she appeared by her side, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Can I borrow you for a minute?”

Y/N turned to her friend, her brows knitting slightly in curiosity. “Sure. Everything okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” Pietra replied with a grin, looping her arm through Y/N’s. “I just think you could use a change of scenery.”

Before Y/N could protest, Pietra gently steered her away from the group, weaving through the crowd in the cozy, softly lit flat. The scent of mulled wine and pine lingered in the air, mingling with the low hum of festive music and the sound of cheerful chatter.

They stopped near a quieter corner of the living room, where the soft glow of fairy lights wrapped around the Christmas tree cast a warm, golden hue. The noise from the party was more distant here, the space offering a reprieve from the bustling energy of the main room.

Pietra turned to face Y/N, her expression shifting to one of gentle seriousness. “Alright, spill. What’s going on with you tonight?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been half here all night,” Pietra said, crossing her arms and giving her a pointed look. “And I know it’s not the party or the people. It’s him.”

Y/N’s stomach flipped, and she let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Pietra rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, please. You’ve been sneaking glances at Lando every five minutes. And, spoiler alert, he’s been doing the same thing with you.”

Y/N opened her mouth to protest but found she couldn’t. Instead, she looked down, fiddling with the edge of her sleeve. “It’s complicated.”

“No, it’s not,” Pietra said firmly, her tone softening as she placed a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “You like him. He definitely likes you. So what’s stopping you?”

Y/N sighed, her fingers brushing the edge of the gift bag she still held. “I don’t know, Pietra. What if he doesn’t see me the way I see him? What if—”

“What if you’re overthinking this, like you always do?” Pietra cut in, her voice teasing but kind. “Y/N, trust me, anyone with eyes can see how much he adores you. You just have to let yourself believe it.”

Y/N hesitated, her heart pounding. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes naturally seeking him out. Lando was standing by the fireplace now, deep in conversation with Max. But even as he spoke, his attention seemed to drift, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on her. When their gazes met, his face lit up, and he gave her that boyish, lopsided grin that never failed to make her breath catch.

“See?” Pietra whispered, her voice breaking Y/N’s trance. “He’s not even trying to hide it.”

Y/N turned back to her friend, her cheeks burning. “What do I do?”

“You give him the gift,” Pietra said simply, her smile encouraging. “And maybe—just maybe—you tell him how you feel.”

Y/N’s gaze lingered on the small bag tucked under the Christmas tree, its festive wrapping suddenly feeling like a spotlight on her nerves. Her fingers toyed with the hem of her sweater, the anxiety bubbling inside her making it impossible to stay still.

“Y/N, what’s going on with you?” Pietra’s voice broke through her thoughts.

Y/N shot her friend a nervous smile, trying to brush off the question. “Nothing... just second-guessing, I guess.”

Pietra narrowed her eyes knowingly, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Second-guessing what? The gift? Don’t be ridiculous. He’s going to love it. You always put so much thought into these things.” She leaned in conspiratorially, lowering her voice. “And let’s be real—it’s Lando. You could hand him a lump of coal, and he’d act like it was the most thoughtful, perfect gift in the world just because it came from you.”

“Pietra,” Y/N warned, her cheeks flushing a deep pink as she swatted at her friend.

“I’m just saying!” Pietra laughed, raising her free hand in mock surrender. “You have no idea how obvious it is to everyone. He’s absolutely crazy about you.”

Y/N glanced at the bag again, her heart pounding harder. “I don’t know... It’s just a T-shirt. What if it’s not enough? What if he doesn’t—”

“Stop.” Pietra cut her off firmly, placing a reassuring hand on Y/N’s arm. “It’s not about the gift itself. It’s about what it means. You’re showing him that you believe in him, that you see something special in him that maybe even he doesn’t fully see. That matters way more than whatever’s inside that bag.”

Y/N’s lips parted as if to protest, but she found herself falling silent. The sincerity in Pietra’s voice made her heart ache with a mix of hope and fear. “What if he doesn’t get it? What if—”

"Y/N, I swear, if overthinking were a sport, you’d have a gold medal by now," Pietra interrupted with a soft laugh, her expression warm. “Y/N, it’s not just about what he thinks. It’s about you letting him see how you feel. You’ve been holding back for months, but it’s so obvious that you care about him. And trust me, he knows. He’s just waiting for you to say it.”

Y/N let out a nervous laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not good at this kind of thing.”

Pietra’s smile softened, her hand giving Y/N’s arm a gentle squeeze. “You’re better at it than you think. And besides, Lando doesn’t need perfection. He just needs you. He’ll understand, Y/N. He always does.”

Y/N glanced back at the bag under the tree, her heart fluttering with both anticipation and dread. It wasn’t just a gift—it was her way of saying something she’d been too afraid to put into words. And tonight felt like the moment she could finally let herself try.

“You can’t keep hiding forever,” Pietra added gently, her eyes sparkling with encouragement. “You’ve got this.”

Y/N took a deep breath, summoning the courage that felt just out of reach. “Okay,” she said softly, nodding as determination began to edge out her nerves.

After her conversation with Pietra, Y/N made her way to the kitchen, seeking a moment of solitude and hoping another drink would give her the courage to finally give Lando his gift. As she stood by the counter, pouring herself a glass, the sound of laughter drifted from the living room, breaking the quiet. Instinctively, she glanced over. There, in the doorway, Lando stood with a playful grin on his face, his eyes locked with hers. The moment their gazes met, it felt as though the world around them paused, his smile widening as he excused himself from the conversation and started toward her.

"Hey, there she is," Lando's voice was warm, low, and filled with playful intent. He leaned casually against the counter beside her, his presence filling the small space. "I was starting to think you were avoiding me tonight."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat, and she quickly looked down at her drink, her pulse quickening. "Just... getting another drink," she mumbled, trying to steady herself.

Lando raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting to the small Christmas tree in the corner. "It’s a bit much, don’t you think? We’re not all here for the holiday cheer, you know."

She chuckled softly, her cheeks flushing. "It’s festive."

"Festive, huh?" Lando’s eyes flicked over her, and for a moment, it felt like there was something deeper in his gaze than just the usual teasing. "You’re looking good tonight. Not that you ever don’t, but... tonight, there’s something about you." His voice dropped slightly, and he leaned in just a little closer. "I’ve been looking forward to seeing you."

Y/N swallowed, her breath catching in her throat. "Thanks," she whispered, feeling a rush of warmth spread through her at his words.

Lando straightened up, still casual but with an intensity in his eyes. "So, where’s my present, huh?"

Y/N’s stomach flipped, and her breath caught. She hadn’t expected him to ask so directly. "I, uh... I got you something," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Let me grab it."

Hastily, she moved toward the big Christmas tree, grabbed the small gift she had carefully wrapped, and returned to the kitchen. Her heart was racing now, nerves bubbling under the surface. Lando’s eyes followed her every movement, and as she handed him the gift, she couldn’t help but feel a rush of self-consciousness under his gaze.

"Oh? I’m honored," he said, his voice teasing. "But you didn’t have to get me anything. You know that, right?"

Y/N shrugged, her voice quiet but firm. "I wanted to. It’s... it’s something special."

Lando’s fingers tore into the wrapping with childlike excitement, revealing the black and orange McLaren T-shirt neatly folded inside. At first, he looked at it with that familiar grin, his fingers tracing over the name on the back. But when he noticed the number, his expression faltered, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. The playful banter he always carried slipped for a moment.

"Wait..." Lando muttered, his fingers brushing over the number. "This isn’t... this isn’t my usual number."

Y/N’s stomach tightened as she met his gaze, her nerves suddenly spiking. "No," she said softly, trying to keep her voice steady. "Number one."

Lando’s expression softened as he studied the number, his lips parting. "This isn’t..." he trailed off, his voice barely audible as he looked back at her. "You... had this made?"

Y/N nodded, a sense of vulnerability creeping in. "I just thought... It’s not... I thought it suited you better. You’re already number one to us. I mean, your friends. Not us... not like that. But—"

But then, something shifted in Lando’s gaze. His eyes softened, and a slow, genuine smile spread across his face. "You’re incredible, you know that?" he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

The room around them seemed to quiet as Lando carefully set the T-shirt down on the counter, his hand reaching for hers. Y/N felt her cheeks burn as he gently took her wrist and pulled her closer. "You’re amazing," he repeated, his voice low, sending a shiver through her.

He stepped closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming, making her heart race even faster. "You have no idea what this means to me," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "No idea."

Y/N shook her head, trying to brush it off. "It’s just a T-shirt," she muttered, wishing she could disappear into the floor.

"No, Y/N. It’s not." Lando reached up, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. The tenderness of the gesture made her chest tighten. "It’s... God, I don’t even know how to say this without sounding like a complete idiot."

Her heart was pounding now. "Say what?"

Lando took a deep breath, looking into her eyes with a vulnerability that took her breath away. "That you mean more to me than anyone else ever has," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I don’t care if it’s too much or too soon or whatever, but I can’t keep pretending that I’m just happy being your friend."

The world around them faded as the gravity of his words settled between them. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she processed what he had said. She looked into his eyes, feeling the weight of her own confession stir inside her.

"Lando..." she began, her voice trembling. "I... I’ve wanted to tell you this for a while now, but I didn’t know how." She hesitated for a moment, her heart hammering in her chest. "I like you. I really like you. And I’ve been too scared to say anything, but... but when I saw you tonight, when I gave you the gift, I couldn’t keep it in anymore."

Lando’s eyes searched hers, the quiet understanding in his gaze making her feel as though her words had finally found a place to land. "I’ve been waiting for you to say that," he murmured, his thumb brushing over her wrist. He whispered her name, his voice so tender it made her pulse quicken. "Why didn’t you tell me sooner?"

Y/N’s breath hitched, but she met his gaze, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. The weight of her confession was heavy, but the way he looked at her now—so soft, so full of emotion—made everything feel worth it. "I was scared..." she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Scared that it wouldn’t be enough. Scared of how I felt."

Lando stepped even closer, closing the distance between them. "You don’t have to be scared. You never have to be scared around me."

His words, his closeness, left no room for doubt. She smiled softly, feeling the tension in her chest slowly start to ease. 

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she looked up at Lando. The world around them seemed to slow down, the sounds of the party fading into a distant hum. It was as though there was only him and her in that quiet space, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. His eyes held hers with an intensity that made her knees weak, and his hand reached up, gently cupping her face. His thumb brushed softly across her cheek, sending a shiver down her spine.

"I..." Lando began, his voice low and earnest. "I think I’ve been falling for you for a while now." His words were soft but filled with a certainty that made her heart race even faster. "And I don’t know how to make you see that, but this... this is more than just a gift. You’ve got me, Y/N."

His confession hung in the air between them, and for a long moment, Y/N couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. His words seemed to fill every inch of her, making it hard to focus on anything but the warmth of his touch and the intensity of his gaze. But then, as if everything had fallen into place, she found herself reaching up, her hand trembling slightly as it touched his.

"I’ve been falling for you, too," she whispered, her voice barely audible but filled with the weight of everything she had been holding back. Her heart felt like it might burst from her chest as Lando’s expression softened, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"You’re everything I’ve ever wanted," he murmured, his breath warm against her skin as he leaned in closer, his lips just inches from hers. "And I’ve been too afraid to admit it."

Before she could even process his words, he closed the gap between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that started slow and tender, as if he was savoring the moment. It was everything she had imagined, yet so much more. His lips were soft, warm, and every touch sent a rush of electricity through her. But as the kiss deepened, it became more urgent, more desperate—as if all the feelings, all the tension between them, had finally reached the breaking point and erupted in a single, beautiful moment.

Y/N’s hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as she kissed him back, her heart racing in her chest. This was what she had always wanted, the connection she had dreamed about. Everything else in the room faded away, leaving only the feeling of him—his hands on her waist, pulling her closer, his body pressed against hers. Every second felt timeless, each touch a promise.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathless, Lando looked at her with a smile that made her feel like she was the only person in the world. His eyes were full of something deep and tender, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile back.

"I’ve wanted to do that for so long," Lando admitted, his voice husky, a mix of emotion and disbelief at the moment they had just shared.

Y/N searched his eyes, her heart full to the brim. "Me too," she whispered, the words almost too simple to capture what she felt.

Lando cupped her face gently with both hands, his expression serious now, his eyes never leaving hers. "I meant it, you know," he said, his voice steady, but thick with emotion. "You’re everything to me. And I promise, no matter what happens, you’ll always be my number 1."

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as a smile spread across her face, her heart swelling with the weight of his words. She had confessed her feelings, and now Lando had done the same. She didn’t need anything else. In this moment, surrounded by the warmth of his affection, everything felt perfect. For the first time in a long time, Y/N allowed herself to believe it. She had found something real, something she never thought she’d have—and it was right here in front of her, in Lando’s eyes.

[lavandulawrites]

Genshin men or Honkai Star Rail men (whichever you prefer or tickles your fancy at the moment) with a darling that just likes to sit in their lap. Just a very cuddly darling that shows almost cat like affection (ie, darling will initiate affection when they want it, head buts as a form of affection? Just sort of nuzzling into the yandere when they feel like)

(Does this make sense? I just woke up)

Yandere HSR Men With An Affectionate Darling

Characters: Argenti, Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Caelus, Dan Heng, Dr. Ratio, Gallagher, Gepard, Jiaoqiu, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Moze, Mr. Reca, Sampo, Sunday, Welt

I chose Honkai Star Rail. This is such a cute request<3 Don’t worry anon, I understood what you meant:) I wrote this as soft yandere, but if you (or anyone else) wants me to write a more eerier version let me know! I’m open for yandere hsr men requests with different scenarios (though I’m most likely nit going to include as many characters as in this one).

Masterlist

Warnings: fluff, soft yandere, obsession, possessiveness, delusional yandere, protectiveness

Word count: 1678

Argenti

Argenti thought your behaviour is absolutely adorable. He highly encouraged it and nuzzled his head onto the top of your head while whispering you praises.

His heart bustled with love and adoration as you sat yourself onto his lap for the fourth time that day. The Knight of Beauty is so very happy that you realise you are safest in his strong arms. With him you are safe from all the horrors of the universe. A poor little thing like you shouldn’t see such ugliness.

Aventurine

After all the horrors and the abuse the blond Stoneheart has faced throughout his life, your affection is something he deeply cherish. When you first willingly sat yourself down on his lap, his gorgeous multicoloured eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat. After that he chases after your love and affection as if it were his lifeline (and it might very well be just that).

His hands tangled themselves in your hair as you rest your head against his shoulder. His breathing is uneven as he swears to himself he will keep you safe for eternity, no matter the cost. If he have to, he will burn down the entirety of the universe. Because there is no way in hell he will let someone as pure as you get hurt. His cheeks redden in uncharacteristically blush.

Blade

Blade had just come home from a particularly difficult and exhausting mission, when you greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug. His black heart hammered against his chest at the unexpected gesture. He hesitantly returned your hug while his thoughts ran through all sorts of possibilities that your gesture was a trap. When he realised that was not the case, he relaxed into the hug.

Now, every time he comes back from a mission, he can’t wait to feel your warmth again. He won’t initiate it, but it’s clear as day what he want. His feelings is deeper than what they were before and his possessiveness has gotten out of hand.

Boothill

Given his new identity as a Galaxy Ranger, Boothill had long given up the idea of such things as affection and loving touches. So when you first snuggled up to him almost like the barn cats he grew up with, he couldn’t help but feel the sting of phantom tears (oh if only if that doctor hadn’t removed his ability to cry). He brushed his emotions of with a cheeky comment and a chuckle at your shyness.

You being such an adorable little darling, he can’t leave you unprotected now could he? His new life mission is keeping you safe and everyone who stands in his life will pay with their lives.

Caelus

The eccentric young man loved snuggling up with you. It was rarely you couldn’t find him with you in his arms. Your affectionate behaviour only egged him further on. He was like glued to you. His amber eyes filled with hearts as he locked eyes with you.

One night as he held you in his strong arms, he decided he will keep you in his room from now on. You are much safer there after all and it isn’t like you don’t like him. So you sure wouldn’t mind it.

Dan Heng

Dan Heng had never been familiar with hugs and other forms of affection. Sure, he had read about it, but it was a foreign concept. So one could say the first time you hugged him greatly shocked him. It took a few times before he relaxed against you. His entire being brimming with joy.

He wanted to drown himself in your lovely eyes and always feel your warmth. His already existing possessiveness tenfold as his need to keep you close by and where his eyes always could see you.

Dr. Ratio

The famous doctor was extremely fond of your affection, but he rather not show it. It would be improper, but still a geniuses slips up from time to time. He can’t help the smiles that forms upon his lips whenever you snuggle up to him. You reminded him of a cat and he couldn’t help but gently stroke his hand over your back.

In public he will seem as stern and stotic as he usually does, but inside he is consumed with love that ran deeper than any well. His throat closes up when your hand finds his. Ratio loves coming home to your waiting arms where all his worries and sorrows seem to disappear.

Gallagher

Gallagher was as affectionate as a dog and he loved your cuddles. He seems comfort in your warmth and his heart softened like pudding when you do the same with him.

You’re safe within his arms. You are a fragile thing and Gallagher can’t help the need to protect you from anything. Why would you want to be alone when you could be with him? Your cuddle sessions becomes a normal part of your everyday life, a change which Gallagher welcomes with open arms.

Gepard

The first time you wrapped your arms around the Captain in a living hug, he froze in place just like the ice in the outskirts of town. His face reddened, but happiness overflowed his eyes.

Every time he came home from work he sought out your warm embrace. His stress melted away as you held him in your arms. He was glad you were content with staying at home and far away from the dangerous outside.

Jiaoqiu

The fox was very cuddly himself and was more than happy to indulge in your cuddles. His soft tail was more often than not wrapped around your limbs in an effort to keep you as close to him as possible.

He greatly appreciated your affectionate nature and used it as a means to keep you close to him and away from all harm. At night when his nightmares appeared and his need to lock you away crept through his mind, his hold on you tightened in a firm grip. He will never let you go.

Jing Yuan

The snoozing general loved your cuddliness. He found it adorable and it made his love for you deepen (if that was even possible). His protective arms were always snugly wrapped around you. You were his everything and he was beyond grateful for your loving affection.

Jing Yuan adored your soft personality and he would be damned if he didn’t use it to make you stay with him. Why would you bother to go outside when you could be inside cuddling with him? It’s so much safer inside after all…

Luocha

Luocha was a gentle man through and through. For him it was nothing more important than you. He enjoyed your affection and encouraged it with his skilled silver tongue.

He want to have you as close to him as possible at all times, but sadly that is not possible given his missions that require you to stay somewhere safe. When he gets home from said missions, the first thing he does is finding you and wrap his arms around you. He will pamper you as much as possible and his heart warms with love every time you snuggle up to him.

Moze

The assassin had always been wary to physical touch, and that with good reason. There was way too many people who would love nothing more than to see him dead. You, however showed him that affection was a beautiful thing (that might only be because it’s you).

With you in his arms, he let his guard down. He felt peaceful and he wanted nothing more than to keep you safe. His arms coiled themselves around you in a tight hold as he swore to himself that he would eradicate every obstacle.

Mr. Reca

The ideal night for Mr. Reca was a movie night together with you. Your cuddly personality came in handy for just that. Your warmth inspired him and he made sweet romantic movies with the main character inspired by you. Though no actor could even come close to capture your greatness.

He purposely put on horror movies to have you cling to him like a lifeline. You were so adorable that his heart almost couldn’t take it. You were so fragile and sweet that he couldn’t bear seeing any harm come your way. You will be safer hidden away in his home where only he could reach you.

Sampo

The cunning con-artist businessman could never get enough of your cuddles. He had no shame and often wraith his arms around you whenever you went in a tight bear hug.

Nights consisted of cuddles and sweet nothings. His love for you almost made his heart burst through his chest and his possessiveness grew every day. He was sure one day his heart would explode if he didn’t protect you from all the cruel things humanity was capable of.

Sunday

Your hugs brought warmth and comfort which was something Sunday really needed. With you in his arms all his worries seemed to disappear. His wings shields your face as you nuzzle your head against his.

You remind him of the little bird he and his sister found when they were children and the need to keep you safe is what drives him. He cannot bear to live in world without you.

Welt

There is nothing like a good cup of tea and you perched on his lap. He loves very sweet moment shared between the two of you. He has experience lots of horrible things throughout his long life, so the serenity shared with you is something he greatly appreciated.

He vowed to himself to always keep you safe. Though that is no challenge given how you prefer to spend your days together with him. He felt blessed that you felt so safe with him that you showed him your affectionate side. Welt will always put you first everything as you is more important to him than everyone else (they ones who tried to come between you won’t know what’s coming for them).

[dreamsteddie]

Nancy knows what people think when they see her and Steve together these days. People mostly include Robin Buckley who, despite what they both say, Nancy doesn't completely believe isn't carrying some kind of torch for the man.

They aren't dating, but it's obvious to anyone who knows them that's what Nancy is angling for. She's not subtle, and she's not trying to be. Doesn't see any reason why she should be. But she knows what it looks like. Nancy Wheeler, fresh off an amicable but heartbreaking end to her relationship with Johnathan Byers has turned tail for a rebound with former boyfriend Steve Harrington. She's using him. She's leading him on. She's going to break his heart, again.

The truth is that Nancy has always liked Steve, was in love with Steve for a fleeting moment when they were both young and stupid and full of mistakes waiting to be made and in the end they had hurt each other, misunderstood each other, too many times to last through their tumultuous teenage years.

The Nancy and Steve of 1984 couldn't have loved each other right, but Nancy knows in her heart that the Nancy and Steve of 1987 could make something beautiful.

Steve is so different from who he used to be. There's a steadiness in him that he always tried to emulate but never fully embodied until the summer of 1985. He always knew how to make her laugh, how to get her to tap into that adventurous spirit within her and live life, but now he also makes her feel safe.

She wants to hold him the way he used to hold her. Wants to whisk him away to New York and build a life perfectly balanced between her ambition and his steadfastness. So she's putting everything she has into rekindling those embers that have always smoldered between them into a steady fire.

She just has to convince Robin that she's in it for the long haul this time.

------

Robin thinks that before she met Steve Harrington her life was never so much like a soap opera.

Her best friend seems to attract danger, betrayal, and romance to him like the world is full of moths and he's the only flame for miles. It would be funnier if it wasn't so god damn annoying sometimes.

Steve doesn't know it, despite how much he insists on being some kind of love expert, but he's got two very eligible bachelors vying for his hand at the moment. She's pretty sure they both see themselves as tragic heroes in this tale of romance, but from her vantage point, it's more like two ornery cats fighting for the prized spot of their owner's lap.

Nancy and Eddie have made themselves both near-permanent fixtures at the Family Video. Ostensibly, they come in because Hawkins is still in the process of rebuilding and there isn't much to do at the moment outside of wandering the woods, loitering at the convenience store, and watching movies at home. In actuality they're both trying to monopolize as much of Steve's time as possible, each trying to lock down his weekend plans before the other.

The first couple of weeks it was funny just to watch, now the only enjoyment she gets out of the whole circus is ruining their plans. She relishes the pissed-off-priss look she gets from Nancy when she asks Steve to go to the drive-in the next town over and Robin turns it into a group outing instead. It's equally funny to watch Eddie's puffed-up shoulders droop when he can't figure out a way to say no to Robin enthusiastically asking if she can join them at the trailer to smoke up on a Saturday night.

In truth, as much as she enjoys messing with them, Robin knows who she wants to win this war. She knows too much about Steve and Nancy's past and all the ways they weren't good for each other to trust her deceptively fragile best friend in Nancy's capable hands.

Eddie, on the other hand...well she's still going to make him work for it before she throws him a bone.

------

Eddie's never been one to fall in love.

He's had crushes, shared a few kisses with girls and boys alike, and lost his virginity in the same fumbling but meaningful way most teens do.

But love? He's never had that before, wasn't sure what it would even feel like.

It turns out that for Eddie, being in love feels a lot like being an overgrown house plant that's finally been moved into suitably a larger pot.

You see, Eddie knows a lot about growing up on his own. Raising himself and finding ways to survive, if not thrive, with a distinct lack of nurturing. He knows how to grow under someone, to grow under the clumsy guidance of his uncle Wayne who never intended to become a parent. And most of all he knows a hell of a lot about growing despite. Growing under the harsh boot forever trying to push him back into the hard dirt he came from.

It's something else entirely to grow with someone in the way he's been growing with Steve.

Steve who was there when he woke up, almost equally as injured as Eddie himself after a second, world saving round with Vecna. Steve who let Eddie lean on him in the difficult month of physical and emotional recovery that came next. Who helped Eddie come to terms with the new reality he was living under the way Steve wished someone had been there for him after his first encounter with the Upsidedown. Steve, who on paper should have been one of the people pushing him down, always gave Eddie the space to be himself and never tried to force either of them into a box they didn't fit.

Eddie knows he's not The Girl. He's not the one who got away, he's not the stalwart princess in one of his campaigns who saves the day herself but still gets the guy. He's not Nancy Wheeler.

But he's also not a quitter, and even if everything about the world and the narrative arc of their lives says that Steve will never end up with him, Eddie knows he would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn't put his hat in the ring for the hand of the fair Sir Steve.

------

Steve's not stupid.

He knows that there's something happening between Nancy, Eddie, and himself. Knows that if he chooses to look a little closer, to examine why exactly all his weekends are suddenly booked up and Robin has taken to stealing the Recese's Pieces off the shelf whenever either one of them comes into the store like she's settling in for a show, he would come to the conclusion that two of his best friends are essentially courting him in competition with each other.

But Steve isn't looking closer.

His mom always said that he was just like his father, too stubborn for his own good.

Robin says he's a control freak, pushing non-life-threatening problems off until he knows how to deal with them on his own terms.

The truth is Steve already knows how this will end, and he knows how this should end.

Because in the eyes of society, in the arc of the narrative, Steve and Nancy should already be making plans to move out to New York and start a life together. Steve should be looking at apartments while Nancy finalizes her class schedule. He should be looking into getting a job at his dad's New York office to support his future wife through her college education where they both know she'll breeze through her classes and move onto the world-changing career she was always meant to have, while Steve stays home with their children like a perfect little modern family.

And the thing is, if the story had gone like it was supposed to, if the world had been saved the fourth time around and Eddie Munson had died on the cold, hard ground of the Upsidown, that's probably exactly the future that would have happened and Steve would have never known to not be content with it. But Eddie did make it, and while Steve mourns the future he could have had, he knows it's not the one he's going to choose in the end.

Even though Steve knows exactly what will happen when he allows himself to face the ever-mounting tension between the three of them, it's scary to take that plunge.

Everything about Steve's world up until Robin has told him that what he's going to choose will damn him forever, and even if he's never put much stock into God and the church, he knows that the future in front of them will never be easy. There's a part of him that wants to take the easy way out. He's never been attracted to a man before Eddie, never had to imagine himself loving someone discreetly, and the thought of it makes his heart hurt prematurely. It would be simpler, he knows, to choose the path most taken.

But Steve has always thought more with his heart than his brain, and he knows that after everything they've been through, after all the time they've spent healing together and growing as one that he could never choose anyone but Eddie.

The time is coming for him to make his final decision, he can feel it, but for now he'll let them sit in this liminal space a little longer.

[theonottsbxtch]

MY PEACE | MV1

an: this was a request from a lovely first time requester ( @pinkinternetstarlight )i had so much fun with this except i probably went about this differently than was expected maybe? i don’t know but i hope everyone enjoys it

wc: 1.9k

THE MONACO SKYLINE GLITTERED outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of Max’s apartment, but the man inside couldn’t see it. Not really. He was slumped on the sofa, his head buried in his hands, elbows resting on his knees, still dressed in the sweat-soaked polo and race trousers he hadn’t bothered to peel off since getting home. The hollow thrum of the media circus still echoed in his ears—reporters’ voices, headlines dissecting every moment of his race, every mistake, every edge of aggression they couldn’t wait to sharpen into a weapon.

The living room was dim, the only light a faint glow from the kitchen where she stood, stacking plates from his barely-touched dinner into the dishwasher. He hadn’t asked her to come over; he never had to. She just… knew. She always knew.

She moved with quiet purpose, tying her hair back with a loose band, sleeves rolled up as she made her way around his space—tidying up the chaos he left in his wake. To anyone else, it might have seemed like she was cleaning for the sake of it, but he recognised it for what it was: her way of looking after him, of making sure that when the noise of the world threatened to cave him in, the corners of his life she touched felt a little less sharp.

He glanced up when she wandered back into the room, her bare feet soft against the wooden floor, carrying a folded blanket. She sat beside him without a word, the way she always did, close enough that her shoulder brushed his. Without asking, she unfolded the blanket and draped it over his lap, tucking it in just so.

His breath hitched—he didn’t mean it to, but there it was, like a crack in a dam he spent his whole life patching up. He turned his head slightly, enough to catch the faint scent of her perfume, and for the first time all day, the ache behind his ribs quietened.

“You don’t have to do this,” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

She turned to him, one corner of her mouth lifting in a small, knowing smile. “I know I don’t.”

He let his head fall back, tipping to the side until it came to rest against her lap. His body felt too heavy to hold up anymore, but here—here was lightness. Her fingers slid through his hair, slow and deliberate, untangling the knots the day had left behind.

The monster inside him, the one he kept chained under the weight of the world’s expectations, fell silent.

“Dinner’s in the fridge for tomorrow,” she said softly. “And I’ll stay the night if you want.”

He shut his eyes. He wanted to say he didn’t deserve this—didn’t deserve her—but the words wouldn’t come. All he managed was a nod, and when she leaned back against the cushions, her hands still in his hair, he let himself breathe.

The silence between them stretched on, but it wasn’t heavy. It was soft, the kind that let him loosen the grip on his thoughts, if only a little. He stared at the darkened skyline, the city lights casting faint patterns on the walls, and tried not to get lost in his head. But it was a losing battle. It always was.

The thought crept in before he could stop it. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve her.

The words sounded like his own, but the voice behind them wasn’t. It was his father’s, sharp and clipped, laced with that same cold disdain that had haunted his childhood. His dad had always seen her as a weakness, a threat to his focus and discipline. How many times had he warned Max about letting anyone get too close? About “wasting energy” on things that didn’t matter?

And yet, here she was, the only person who’d stayed. The only one who’d made it through the wreckage of his life without turning away.

Her hand was still in his hair, her fingers slow and soothing, but he could feel the faint shift of her breathing as she glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Max,” she said softly, her voice cutting through the noise in his head. “You’ve got a flight tomorrow morning. You should shower and get some sleep.”

He opened his eyes, the weight of the day still pressing down on him, and turned to look at her. “I’ll sleep on the plane,” he mumbled, though he didn’t move.

“Shower first,” she said, firm but kind. “You’ll feel better.”

He didn’t argue. He never could, not with her. With a quiet sigh, he sat up, the blanket slipping to the floor, and dragged himself to his feet. The thought of standing under hot water—letting it wash away the grease and grime and whatever else the day had left on him—wasn’t as bad as he let on.

By the time he stepped into the shower, he could hear her moving about in the kitchen again. He let the water beat against his skin, his hands braced against the tiled wall as the heat loosened the tension in his shoulders. Still, his mind wouldn’t stop replaying the same loop: his dad’s voice, the doubt, the sense of never being enough.

When he finally emerged, towel slung around his waist, the smell of something warm and sweet drifted through the apartment. He found her in the bedroom, already curled up against the pillows, a mug of hot chocolate in her hands. On the bedside table sat another mug—tea, the way she always made it for him, a perfect balance of strong and soothing.

She didn’t look up as he walked in, her nose buried in a book, the soft glow of the bedside lamp making the room feel impossibly safe.

He took the mug and sat on the other side of the bed, cradling it in his hands as the steam curled up around his face. For a while, they didn’t speak. She kept reading, and he let himself lean back against the headboard, the warmth of the tea spreading through him.

It wasn’t until he was ready—until the words that had been choking him all day finally loosened—that he spoke.

“They hate me,” he said quietly, his voice barely more than a rasp.

She looked up from her book, closing it without a hint of impatience, and turned her full attention to him. “Who?”

“Everyone,” he said. “The media. The fans. Hell, even Checo, sometimes.” He laughed bitterly. “They don’t even know me, but they’ve already decided I’m the villain. And the worst part is… I think they’re right.”

Her brows knitted together, and she set her mug down on the table. “Max,” she said, her voice steady, her gaze unflinching, “you’re not a villain.”

He shook his head, staring into his tea. “I don’t know how you can say that. You’ve seen it—how I am on the track, how I am off it. I push people away, I—” He stopped, the words catching in his throat.

“You’re human,” she said simply. “You’re not perfect, but no one is. And everything they say about you? That’s noise. It’s not who you are.”

His hands tightened around the mug, and he looked at her, his expression raw, like he was seeing her for the first time.

“You don’t have to stay, you know,” he said, his voice breaking. “You could’ve left a long time ago. Sometimes I think you should’ve.”

She held his gaze, her eyes calm but fierce. “And sometimes I think you forget that I get to make my own choices,” she said softly. “I’m here because I want to be, Max. Not because I feel sorry for you. Not because you owe me anything. Just because you’re you.”

The weight in his chest shifted, just a fraction, but enough. He didn’t know how to respond to that—not yet—but when she picked up her book again, leaning against his shoulder as if nothing had changed, he let himself close his eyes and breathe.

For tonight, it was enough.

The tea was long forgotten on the bedside table, the room quiet save for the faint rustle of her turning a page and the soft hum of the city beyond the windows. Max shifted under the duvet, his body still heavy with exhaustion, but the ache behind his ribs had eased, just enough to let him breathe.

She lay beside him, her book propped against her knees, the light from the lamp catching the soft curve of her face. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, trying to ignore the pang of something sharp and unfamiliar blooming in his chest. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt it, but tonight it seemed impossible to ignore.

He adjusted his pillow and turned on his side, facing her. “You’re going to read all night, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice low, teasing.

She glanced at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Not if you need to sleep.”

“I always need sleep is what you say, no?.”

She laughed softly, her head tipping to the side as she closed her book, slipping it onto the nightstand. “Alright, I’m done.” She reached over and turned off the lamp, plunging the room into comfortable darkness.

He shifted closer instinctively, the warmth of her presence drawing him in. They’d done this a hundred times before—falling asleep in the same bed, his arm slung over her waist or her head tucked against his chest—but tonight felt different. The space between them was charged with something unspoken, a tension he didn’t have the courage to name.

She settled into the pillows, her back facing him, and he hesitated for a moment before closing the distance. His arm slid around her waist, pulling her closer, and she melted into him without a second thought.

“Goodnight, Max,” she murmured, her voice soft and drowsy.

He rested his chin lightly against the top of her head, inhaling the familiar scent of her shampoo. “Goodnight,” he said, though his mind was far from quiet.

The weight of the day, the weight of everything, seemed to dissipate as he held her. She didn’t demand anything of him, didn’t ask him to explain himself or prove that he was more than what the world saw. She just… was. And somehow, that was enough to quiet the storm inside him.

His eyes fluttered shut, the warmth of her body lulling him into something close to peace. And before he could stop himself, the words slipped out, barely more than a whisper, lost to the dark.

“I love you.”

She didn’t stir. Didn’t react.

For a moment, panic flared in his chest—what if she’d heard him? What if she didn’t feel the same? But as her breathing deepened, slow and steady in the quiet of the room, he realised she was already asleep.

Relief swept over him, and he tightened his hold on her just a fraction, burying his face in her hair. It was better this way, he told himself. She didn’t need to know. He didn’t need to ruin what they had, didn’t need to drag her into the mess of his life any more than she already was.

For tonight, it was enough to hold her. To let the monster in him fall silent, just for a little while.

And as sleep finally pulled him under, he couldn’t help but hope—just a little—that maybe someday, he’d find the courage to say it again.

the end.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby

[lionwitch]

Tim Drake Edits Reality

Hear me out. Tim Drake has always loved photography, that's wildly accepted and known. But what if he has powers too?

What if whatever Tim edits into his pictures becomes the truth?

The first time it happened, Tim was just starting his photography hobby. His parents bought him a camera and he was so exited! He took a picture of his mom's Rosebush, a single rose in the entire bush, half Withered.

Tim found the picture beautiful, and he started messing with photoshop, editing the withered flower back to the bright red it used to be. He decided it looked lonely and sad, the bush dry and the rose edited to be lively but alone in the middle. So he edited the dry areas of the bush back to the lively green and more roses in it. The picture looked very different from the original, but it was beautiful. Satisfied, he saved the end result.

That afternoon, when he walked through the garden, the very same dry rosebush he photographed looked just like his edited picture: lively, with rich colors and plenty of roses.

It made no sense, but he ignored it.

He kept taking pictures and editing them, though the changes were small, like the lighting and all that. Sometimes he made small changes, and he definitely noticed them and thought it was weird, but didn't quite connect the dots. He was kind of in denial. He couldn't be a meta or anything! Right?

And then his parents left for a few months and he was lonely, but he didn't want to admit it. And at school everyone was talking about their pets, and he messed up and lied. "I just adopted a Border Collie puppy!" he lied, thinking that would be it, people would forget, he would get out of the awkward situation (why did everyone have pets?) and nothing would happen. Well turns out, everyone wanted to see his puppy.

So Tim came home and prepared his camera, in his trusted tripod to look like it had been taken by someone else, and took pictures of himself, a whole photoshoot, with his arms stretched like carrying a dog, and then sitting like he was playing with it.

He searched for a perfect Border Collie puppy, one who had a whole photoshoot just for that one, so he could be sure the pictures were coherent and no one would question them. He carefully edited them and memorized every feature of his supposed dog in case anyone asked, to keep his story straight. Once satisfied, he sent them to those who asked for pictures, and received plenty of "cute dog!" compliments. It had taken him all day, so he went to bed almost immediately after, already past midnight.

He woke up to the very same blue eyed fluffy Border Collier puppy he edited into his pictures, licking his face, the same blue harness and leash hung on his door, and even the bed and bowls he put in the background were on the corner of his room now.

He freaked out, of course, but the small pup didn't seem all that worried. And apparently he now had a puppy? Well, he's always wanted one. He named her Frankie, because her multiple colors and patterns clashed like Frankenstein's monster, like she had been made for from mismatched parts.

He loved Frankie. She was so smart! And Frankie was quite loyal and enamored by him, too. He was her whole world, and she was his heart, his companion and confidant, his best friend and ally in his too-big house.

He did decide to experiment though. He needed more research.

When a boy at school picked on him, he edited his picture bald, and that same day his father shaved his hair. He tried again with another boy who picked on Jason (Jason doesn't know Tim exists yet, but Tim keeps an eye out for him), editing his hair bright barbie pink, and this time he added a date to the corner, writing the date of a week ago, two days before the pictures for his football team were taken.

When Tim saw the football team's pictures displayed at school, the boy had pink hair in them, that he didn't yesterday. He asked around, if the pictures looked different to anyone else.

"yeah, I don't know what persuaded him to dye his hair pink before picture day and the tournament."

"I asked him two days ago, he said he lost a bet."

Two days ago. Tim's mind was reeling. He asked the boy himself when he dyed his hair, and he replied with the date Tim edited on the corner of the picture.

Did Tim just... Edit reality?

He later uses this power to his advantage on patrol, and before that while watching the Bats.

Jason is surrounded? He takes a picture and edits a few goons out of it quickly. They aren't there when he looks up.

Shit Joker escaped? He doesn't have the energy to deal with it right now. He edits tonight's date on a picture of Joker sitting peacefully in his cell and a few more guards for good measure.

His family doesn't understand why he takes a small discreet camera on patrol in his utility belt

[blitzwhore]

Stolas just standing there and letting blitz hug him in the end is all good, right? He is just sad because of octavia and accepting that blitz is there with him right?? It's not that he regrets chosing him, right??? (I just need affirmation)

You know what? I've found myself needing reassurance about this too. So let's take a moment to look at the facts together, shall we?

(This reply turned out way longer than I expected it to 😅 sorry!)

Fact #1 - Stolas is still coming to terms with the consequences of his actions. He spends the whole episode finding out just how much his life has changed. Learning how to navigate groceries, and laundry, and meals, and having a job, and worrying about money.

Mid-episode, he has a breakdown where he truly questions if everything he gave up was worth it just for a fantasy. At this point in the episode, he still hasn't realised how much he means to Blitz. As far as he's concerned, he did all of this for someone who doesn't reciprocate his feelings. By the end of the episode, though, his feelings have settled enough for him to express what he has known to be true all along: that saving Blitz was the right thing to do.

What Stolas regrets isn't saving Blitz's life, or even loving Blitz in the first place.

What he regrets are the choices he made that led them to this. He feels guilty for selfishly (or, rather, naively) playing out his fantasies. He's the one who established the deal, who let Blitz illegally use the book for many months, who wasn't always sensible about how he expressed his love for Blitz publicly and despite being married, and who allowed himself to ignore the reality of his situation so he could live in his own, personal romcom—all of which ultimately led to the events of Mastermind and the loss of Via.

And all the guilt and regret he's grappling with (however justified it might be) is exacerbated by fact #2, which is:

Fact #2 - Stolas is off his medication. He's been off it for a month now. Symptoms of depression (especially untreated depression) include mood swings, irritability, self-hatred and low self-esteem, passive/active suicidal ideation, pessimism and hopelessness about the future, catastrophising, black-and-white thinking, and anhedonia (inability to feel pleasure and to find joy in things—and people—who used to bring you it). All symptoms Stolas exhibits throughout this episode.

So, even if he shows a lack of emotion toward Blitz at times, or irritation to seemingly minor things like low doors or "secretating" or Karen's behaviour, even if he acts regretful and angry and desolate... a lot of these emotions and behaviours are a result of his depression, and not of actually hating the life he chose.

Fact #3 - Stolas loves Blitz. He always has, and always will. I could point at a thousand different moments in the show when Stolas' love for Blitz has transpired, but I'm going to leave it at his line from Mastermind: "I would rather be dead than live life without you by my side."

Even after everything they've gone through, even now that he's taken Blitz off his pedestal and can acknowledge that Blitz can be a fucking idiot... Stolas simply does not want to live a life without Blitz. It has always been Blitz. It will always be Blitz.

Stolas loves Blitz.

Fact #4 - Stolas kissed Blitz. Before he truly hits rock bottom as a result of Octavia cutting him out, Stolas is so ecstatic that Blitz cares, that Blitz was willing to go to such lengths to save his life, that he can't hold back the need to kiss Blitz mid-air. Suddenly, none of his earlier frustration matters. Nothing matters expect for how elated he is that Blitz loves him back. So he smiles and he pulls Blitz into a kiss because he can't bear not to kiss Blitz for a moment longer.

Look at this man. Look at how happy he is. Because it's always been Blitz, and maybe it was a fantasy for a long time, but it doesn't have to be anymore. Maybe this can be real now. He's so happy he (and I) could cry.

Fact #5 - Stolas didn't deny loving Blitz. When Via said "You don't love me, you love him," the script very purposefully did not have Stolas go "no, no, Via, that's not true—" or say anything else that might make Blitz doubt, even for a moment, that Stolas loves him. Because that much is true. He does love Blitz. He just also loves Via. Which brings me to:

Fact #6 - Blitz knows Stolas loves him. At no point throughout the episode does Blitz doubt, even for a second, that Stolas loves him. And we know this because Blitz's walls remain down at all times. If Blitz doubted he was loved, if he had even the slightest of reservations, those walls would come crawling back up whether he wanted them to or not. It's what he's been trained and conditioned to do—it's how he's kept his heart safe ever since the accident.

But now, he knows his heart is safe with Stolas. He believes it enough to not depend on his walls to feel at ease. He believes it enough to let himself take care of Stolas and be soft with Stolas without the slightest trace of hesitation.

Look at Blitz's face. This is the face of a man who knows that even if Stolas isn't okay right now, things will get better. And when they do, they'll both still be in love with each other. This is the face of a man who can't wait for something beautiful to flourish between them, but who is in no rush to get there. He knows the road ahead is hard and painful, but he has faith in Stolas. In both of them.

Fact #6 - Stolas was happy to share a private, romantic dance with Blitz. Despite everything going through his mind, he found comfort and happiness in dancing with Blitz; in getting to have this little moment with him.

He found relief in the fact that Blitz stayed with him this time, even after Stolas told him, once again, that he didn't have to stay.

His reaction to Blitz initiating a dance between them is genuine surprise, immediately followed by an enamoured little smile at the mere notion that he gets to have this, now.

And, as they dance, he keeps smiling and leaning into Blitz, going as far as to manage a deep, heartfelt laugh at Blitz's words. This, for an unmedicated, depressed person going through one of the worst days of his life, is huge in itself. It shows that, even in the worst of times, he finds undeniable comfort and happiness in Blitz.

And, after their dance, Stolas looks at Blitz with a sobriety and soft sort of realisation that shows he's finally coming to terms with the fact that this is real. After everything he's lost, after all the fantasies he hoped for for so long and believed he'd never have, he finally gets to have this.

Despite the pain he's going through, Stolas looks at Blitz and sees the man he loves.

Notice how Blitz's eyes trail down to Stolas' mouth. And Stolas realises. And doesn't move away. Waiting, expectantly, for Blitz's next move, fully expecting it to be a kiss.

But then Blitz hugs him instead, and Stolas doesn't hug back.

And it's not because he doesn't want to be hugged by Blitz. It's not because his feelings for Blitz have changed, or dimmed, or disappeared. It's not because he regrets loving Blitz, or saving him. It's not because he doesn't want to have a close, healthy, loving romantic relationship with Blitz.

It's because of facts #1 (he's grappling with so much guilt and coming to terms with the consequences of his actions) and #2 (he's experiencing symptoms of unmedicated depression). And, above all, it's because of fact #7, which is...

Fact #7 - Stolas doesn't know how to be loved. Stolas has never had support. He has never had a shoulder to cry on, or someone to hold him when he needed it. When he's feeling vulnerable and broken, he defaults to hugging himself as a way to self-soothe, because that's the only comfort he's ever known.

And because he's never known comfort from others—because it was never allowed or safe for him to need or ask for comfort from others—all Stolas knows to do with his vulnerability is hide it. So much so that, the two times we see him begin to break down in front of Blitz before this episode, he either portals Blitz away or masks his tears and pain immediately. Even as he drunkenly rambles about wanting to be held, he still makes sure not to appear like he actually needs a hug.

So when he finds himself being held by Blitz in a warm, comforting hug, Stolas doesn't know how to respond. Because he's never had this. He's never had an opportunity to learn how to exist in someone's comforting embrace, how to interact with this kind of physical contact. He still has to learn how to feel safe between arms that aren't his own.

Simply put, Stolas still doesn't know how to hold Blitz back.

That doesn't mean Stolas doesn't want or need physical comfort. He needs it desperately—everyone does. But wanting something and knowing how to actually have it are two very different things, and Blitz knows that better than anyone, because he's wanted Stolas for a very long time, but didn't, until very recently, know how to feel safe accepting Stolas' love.

And that's why Blitz is completely understanding of the fact that all Stolas can do, all Stolas has the ability to do, is stand there and let himself be held, and let his emotions go through him. In, and out, with every breath, with every second. And get slowly acquainted with what being comforted by the person he loves feels like.

Thirty-something years of trauma can't be undone in a single hug, or a single conversation, and it's going to take time for Stolas to learn how to be present while in Blitz's arms, and how to return that emotional closeness.

But Blitz has faith in him. Blitz is willing to be patient and soft with him while he gets better. Blitz is ready to meet Stolas where he's at, because he knows, beyond a trace of doubt, that they love one another, and they're going to be okay. Even if Stolas doesn't know it yet—even if we, the audience don't know it yet—Blitz knows.

And that's just going to have to be enough for now.

And because this post got completely away from me, I shall conclude by quoting their song, because it summarises their story better than I ever could:

Truer love is hard to find. ❤️

[beloveds-embrace]

Until the Last Loop: Familiar Faces

(Days spent with them making new memories- a silent attempt at forging a new life before it will be ripped away once more)

Poly mercenaries 141 x princess reader

Part One

The castle breathed with life and the scent of burning tallow, but to you, it might as well have been a tomb. Its towering walls and narrow corridors, carved from cold stone and lined with faded tapestries, had grown too familiar over the cycles- prisons that wore different faces but caged you all the same, and you were the bird locked within it each life, merely with different feather each time.

You sung the same melody, regardless. A melody that would soon be snuffed out.

You moved through the halls like a shadow, your impending doom hanging over you like clock that never stopped ticking until its last moments. Servants parted for you without meeting your gaze, and although whispers followed in your wake, they no longer stung the way they once had. You had long since grown used to the weight of their words, their gazes full of pity and disdain. They had become just another layer of the endless loop, a reflection of your precarious standing with the royal lineage.

But the men- the four who trailed in your footsteps, sent by your father to report all your moves back to him with the excuse of protecting you- were different.

They were a presence you couldn’t shake, no matter how many lifetimes passed. Always close, always steady, their shadows filled the empty spaces others left behind. And unlike the others, they weren’t afraid to look at you.

In some lives, you despised them. What comfort could four men give you when all you wanted was your father’s love? Your people’s adoration? Friends your age? None whatsoever.

In other lives, you had been distant. You kept them at arms’ length, unwilling to even converse with them. They were of no use to your desperation to free yourself from this cursed cycle.

You’ve lost count of how many loops you’ve gone through. Even now, you do not know how it started; who started it. A cruel curse, that’s what it was, and you were its constant victim. It was inevitable, so why… keep away the only people willing to be near you?

And so this time, you let them close.

Soap was the first to slip past your walls, an unsurprising fact.

It was late when you found yourself sitting in the gardens, the air sharp with the chill of night. The roses were dying, their petals curling inward as frost crept along the edges, and you wondered- just for a moment- how many times you had seen them bloom and wither like this.

Too many times.

You were alone with him; no maid or lady-in-waiting was willing to accompany you, though rather than saying that, they jusy boldly lied and said they had prior arrangements to the king.

The king. Your father. It was always him. You wished he’d hate you a little less, just enough to not rob you of the care you’ll always long for like a child stumbling through the cold for a flicker of fire, of warmth.

Wistful dreams.

Soap sat down beside you without invitation, though his presence didn’t feel unwelcome. His easy smile was softer in the moonlight, and when he offered you his cloak, you didn’t refuse it.

“You look like you’re waitin’ for somethin’,” he said, voice low but steady, starting the conversation. By now, they’ve come to understand that you are… so different from whatever everyone said of you. You were quiet, your presence squeezed and molded into a tiny nook of the castle so easy to forget.

You didn’t answer right away, letting the silence stretch. The words came slower, heavier now- weighted by too many winters and too many deaths.

“I think it’s waiting for me,” you breathed out, fingers brushing the edge of the cloak. The flowers fluttered when a breeze blew by, bending in the directionaway from you; they pitied you, too, for not even they’d be placed upon your grave once you were dead. “… My end, I mean.”

Soap didn’t flinch. He didn’t try to deny it, either. He did not have any loyalty to the king or keeping his secrets; no mercenary would bother even if they’d lifk the king’s hand for his gold and coins.

Snakes, all of them. And yet- they were the ones who got to live, so the last laugh was theirs.

“Well,” he said instead, leaning back on his palms, “if it comes knockin’, ye just let me know. I’ll handle it.”

You almost smiled. Almost.

Soap didn’t leave right after that, like you expected.

He stayed, stretched out beside you on the stone bench like he had nowhere better to be, his broad shoulders relaxed but his eyes sharp as they roamed the shadows pooling in the corners of the garden. The scent of dying roses lingered in the air, sweet and cloying, and you wondered if he noticed the way your hands trembled when you smoothed the cloak over your lap.

If he did, he didn’t say anything.

Instead, he tilted his head back and gazed at the stars, his voice softer when he spoke again.

“Ye know, my mum used to say the stars are just folk lookin’ down on us,” he said, accent curling thick around the words. “Watchin’, guidin’… makin’ sure we dinna wander too far off the path.”

You blinked at him. “And what if the path leads… nowhere?”

Soap turned his head to look at you then, eyes dark. “Then ye make yer own.”

It was such an earnest thing to say, so full of conviction that it made something in your chest twist painfully. You couldn’t tell him how many times you’d tried to do just that- tried to fight and claw your way toward a different ending, only to be dragged back to the start again.

Soap didn’t know. None of them did.

And yet, as you sat there with his warmth seeping through the cloak and his words lingering in the air like a promise, you found yourself wishing- just for a moment- that he was right.

That you could carve your way out of this nightmare and leave the endless cycle behind.

But that was foolish.

So instead, you leaned back against the bench and let your eyes drift shut, pretending not to notice the way Soap’s hand hovered near the dagger at his side, ready to draw at the first sign of danger.

Pretending you didn’t feel safer for it.

Ghost was harder to pin down. He lingered on the edges, silent as your grave, but his presence was impossible to ignore.

When the nightmares came- and they always did, another constant- you found him at your door. He never asked questions, never pried. He simply stood guard, silent, until the trembling stopped.

One night, when sleep refused to come after a day of listening to awful, false whispers of you, you found yourself seated on the rug in front of the hearth, staring into the flames. Ghost leaned against the wall, his mask a stark contrast against the flickering light.

“They won’t hurt you.” He said suddenly, rough and low.

You didn’t look at him. You watched the flickering fire, and was rewarded with whispers of the lives where you’d been burned at the stake. “They always do.”

“They won’t.”

And maybe it was foolish, but for once, you almost believed him.

You pulled your knees closer to your chest, eyes fixed on the flames as if they could burn away the memories pressing in from all sides.

Ghost didn’t move from his place against the wall. He was a silhouette in the firelight, broad shoulders and sharp angles, the hollow black of his mask turning him into something almost otherworldly.

You didn’t ask why he was there. He never explained himself, and you never pushed.

After a while, he broke the silence again.

“They’re scared of you.”

His voice was quiet, still rough like gravel, but it cut through the room as sharply as any blade.

You swallowed, your gaze still locked on the fire. You couldn’t look away. “No. They hate me.”

Ghost didn’t argue. He let the silence stretch, his eyes never leaving you.

You weren’t sure why that bothered you more than words would have.

“They’re scared,” he repeated finally, slower this time. Firmer. “And scared people do stupid things.”

You let out a short, bitter laugh. “Like cutting off my head?”

Ghost tilted his head, and something about the way he looked at you made your chest tighten.

“They won’t get the chance, princess.” He said, and there was something cold in his voice that sent a shiver down your spine.

You turned to face him then, finally meeting his gaze. Or at least, what you thought was his gaze beneath the mask. It was impossible to tell, but you felt it- heavy, unflinching.

“You can’t stop it, Ghost.”

Ghost didn’t flinch. Didn’t waver. “Watch me.”

The words shouldn’t have meant anything. They shouldn’t have mattered when you already knew how this would end- how it always ended. Those words were treacherous to whatever the king wanted and expected of him.

But as the fire crackled and the shadows danced along the walls, you let yourself believe him. Just for a little while.

Because Ghost wasn’t the kind of man who made promises.

And yet, when he spoke, it sounded like one.

… yet you knew, not all promises can be kept.

Gaz was gentler than the others. Thoughtful. Attentive in a way that made your chest ache, because it had been so long since anyone had looked at you without seeing the stain on your birthright first and you second.

He helped you practice with a dagger one afternoon, though you both knew it wouldn’t be of much use to you. The sharp clang of metal rang out against the training yard walls as he corrected your grip, his hands warm against yours.

When was the last time you’d been held like that?

Far too long ago. Far too many lives ago.

“Careful,” he said, guiding the blade down in a smooth arc. “Keep your stance steady.”

You frowned. “What does it matter?”

Gaz tilted his head, eyes searching yours. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”

And wasn’t that the cruelest part? That no matter how many times you died, you always woke up again?

You didn’t answer, and Gaz didn’t press. Instead, he let you lean into him when the weight of it all grew too heavy, when the weight of more than just the training pressed down on you.

Gaz stayed close after that- close enough that you started to notice the small things.

The way his eyes lingered on you just a little longer than they should, watching for signs of exhaustion or the fear you tried so hard to hide. The way his touch was always secure but never overbearing, grounding you without demanding more than you were willing to give.

He made you feel… safe.

It was dangerous.

Foolish.

But you let him stay anyway. You stayed with him anyway.

The dagger gleamed in the sunlight as you practiced another strike, the blade slicing cleanly through the air. Gaz nodded approvingly, stepping back just enough to give you space, though his presence was still a solid weight at your side.

“Better,” he said, his voice warm but firm. “You’re getting the hang of it, princess. Maybe you’ll give us a run of our money, eh?”

You lowered the blade, breathing hard as you wiped the sweat from your brow. You couldn’t find it within yourself to be humorous “I’m not sure it’ll matter in the end.”

Gaz frowned at that, stepping closer. “Don’t say that.”

You almost laughed. Almost. “You don’t understand.”

His hand came up then, gentle as he tilted your chin to face him. The look in his eyes knocked the breath from your lungs- steady and sure, like he was trying to hold you together with sheer force of will.

“Maybe I don’t,” he admitted, voice low. “But I do know this- every time you get back up, it matters.”

You didn’t realize you were trembling until his hand dropped to your shoulder, grounding you with the warmth of his touch.

“Don’t give up yet, princess,” he murmured, softer now. “Not on yourself.”

It was almost too much. Too kind. Too hopeful.

You wanted to tell him that hope had no place here- not in this endless loop of death and betrayal and grief. Not in this damned castle- but the words wouldn’t come, caught in your throat like fish in a net.

So instead, you let him take the dagger from your hands, let him press it back into its sheath before leading you toward the shade of the courtyard’s edge.

And when he sat beside you, close enough that your shoulders brushed, you didn’t pull away.

Because for once, it didn’t feel like a burden to be seen.

Price was the hardest to read.

He was steady, commanding- his presence filled the room like the smoke of chimneys, lingering long after he was gone. He carried himself like a man who had seen too much and lost too many, and sometimes, when he looked at you, you thought you saw the ghost of something more.

He didn’t speak often, but when he did, his words stayed with you.

“Do you ever wonder, princess,” he asked one evening, standing by the window with a wooden cup of mead in his hand. You didn’t know how he’d even snuck it in, but you weren’t going to snitch. “if we’re all just pieces on your father’s board?”

You blinked at him, startled by the sudden question.

“All the time.” You said.

His gaze lingered on you a moment longer, and there was something unreadable in it.

You wanted to ask what he meant, why the sudden question, but he turned away before you could, leaving you to sit and stew with the thought.

And stew you did.

Because Price wasn’t wrong, was he?

You already knew your father had lied- about these mercenaries, their orders, everything.

They weren’t here to protect you. Not really.

No knights would take you, no nobles wanted you, and no one in the kingdom would lay down their sword for a bastard-born princess whose only crime was existing. Yet here they were, these hardened men, mercenaries paid in coin and silence, assigned to watch your every move.

Not guard you. Watch you.

Keep you until the day you were dragged to your death once more.

You’d known it the moment Price first stepped through your door, his eyes sweeping the room like he was cataloging exits instead of protecting them. The others were subtler- Soap with his easy charm, Ghost with his patient silence, Gaz with his careful words- but Price?

Price didn’t even try to hide it.

And maybe that was the worst part.

Because he didn’t look at you the way others did. He didn’t sneer, didn’t pity, didn’t hate. He looked at you like he was waiting.

Waiting for what?

For you to run? To slip up? To hand him the excuse he needed to drag you before your father in chains, so he could take the money and leave?

The thought made your stomach twist.

Because no matter how much you told yourself it didn’t matter- that the loop would end and begin again, and none of this would last- it still sank its claws into you.

And the next time Price caught you watching him from across the room, you didn’t look away.

Not at first.

He held your gaze, steady and unreadable, but there was no malice in it- no sharp edges or hidden teeth. Just something quiet. Something that almost felt like understanding.

When you finally turned away, you expected the weight of it to linger, to drag down your shoulders and settle in your chest like an unwelcome puff of smoke.

But it didn’t.

Instead, you felt the faintest flicker of warmth- barely there, fleeting as a dying ember- and hated how much you wanted to hold onto it.

Days turned to nights, and the hours slipped away like sand through your fingers. The loop pressed closer with every tick of the clock, and yet…

You didn’t feel so alone this time.

They were there- in the quiet moments, in the chaos, in the shadows of your worst fears- and though you knew it wouldn’t save you, you still let them stay.

Because this time, you didn’t have the strength to keep them away.

This time, you… wanted to have fond memories before your death.

Masterlist

I hope everyone’s been enjoying this so far! Any guesses on why reader is in a time loop and who might be responsible? :3

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 1

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, drinking Wordcount: 5.4K A/C: another pregame treat!! need my girls to deliver tonight!! anyways, here is chapter one, this one is about to start a little slower and i'm sorry about that but i promise it'll pick up and get more interesting, i got big plans for this one y'all!! anyway please leave feedback/thoughts/reviews whatever for me, i love them :)

-

Before London

The Dallas roads are busy, stretching out for miles out into the horizon as I stare out the window. My lungs craved fresh air, itching to open it. But I knew the air outside would bring no such relief, the humidity of this time of year already bringing me one step closer to packing my bags and making my way back to Connecticut. Everyone told me to turn the AC on, but I was much too stubborn and stuck in my ways. My dad would have come over himself and turn it off if he knew I was considering turning it on in April - much too early for his liking.

I had been here for a week now, seven long days. Each one making me more homesick. I missed my girls. I missed my team. I missed the normal weather and the East Coast. It was so bad I was on the phone with my dad every night, complaining. I knew as much as he loved me, he was getting sick of it.

“Paige, let’s figure this out,” Britt’s voice comes through the speaker phone, five garment bags sent by her laid out on the bed, ready to be opened.

“What do you even wear to this sorta thing?” I ask, speaking into the phone. My hands are opening one bag after another.

“Baby I dunno, you just gotta pick something. What kinda vibe do you wanna give off?” Brittany asks sweetly as I place my phone on the bed in front of me, pulling my shirt off over my head.

“I can’t think, it’s too hot,” I complain, rubbing my face. “I hate it here, wanna come back.”

“Paige, you gotta push through this. Try and look at it differently, at least you like your teammates!” 

I whine and lie down, my back hitting the soft cotton of the sheets. “Do you think they’d let me take my sixth year?”

“Oh my gosh girl you gotta pull yourself together,” Brittany laughs, which in turn makes me laugh too. I knew I was being dramatic, my team was great, the coaching staff seemed amazing. But it was my first time living alone, I didn’t know what to do with myself and all this energy I had. I felt like I was two days away from jumping off the walls.

Lou and Arike had both taken me under their wing, and the few joint practices we’d had with the team the past week seemed promising. Not good, but like there might be potential for something with hard work. I was well taken care of and grateful for it, but the thing is at Uconn I was spoiled. I got to live with my best friends. To spend every moment with them, get on their nerves and not worry because in the end they were my sisters.

“Where are you going?” Britt asks.

“Some sorta steakhouse,” I answer, rubbing my eyes.

“Boujee or like… Texas?”

I snort, grabbing the phone from beside me.

“It’s a nice place I heard. But Rike been here for so long she mighta forgot what nice is,” I joke sitting back up.

“Then go with the blue bag.”

Unzipping it, I find a pair of black shorts, and an oversized dark green crewneck sweatshirt. 

“Ion know about this Britt it’s a lil… boring,” I mumble looking over the outfit. When did I last wear dark green anyway.

“That’s why you dress it up girl! Wear a collared shirt under it, put on some chains, some nice shoes, trust it’ll fit the vibe, you don’t wanna be doing too much. Have I ever let you down?”

I sigh. I could see the vision the moment she started talking. “No you have not,” I reply. “I gotta start getting ready. Thanks again.”

“Anytime Paige,” she answers and we hang up. I know silence can’t echo, but it’s so overwhelming it almost feels like that’s exactly what it’s doing. Storrs was always loud, lively. Now I had it so bad I was even missing KK’s neverending rambling. 

Quickly putting on a playlist to get rid of the aching pressure on my chest, I begin to get ready, rapping along to a Drake song loudly - but who cares I live alone now. I sleek back my hair, pinning it into a bun - the one hairstyle I knew how to do. I put on some diamond studs, and take my time picking accessories, choosing just the right silver rings to match the chain on my neck, a cross hanging from it. Of course, Brittany had been right. The outfit was great, not too much for a nice restaurant but still totally me.

“Shit,” I mumble to myself when I check the time, realising Lou must be waiting on me downstairs. Grabbing a white cross-body bag I run out the door, quickly making my way down where, just like I thought, the brunette was waiting, tapping on the steering wheel impatiently.

“Sorry I’m late,” I yelp climbing into the passenger seat. Since I barely knew Dallas, Lou had decided it was best if she drove both of us.

Shaking her head, the girl driving merges onto the road swiftly. “Not gonna be making a good impression if we bring our rookie to the party late,” Lou complains.

I scoff, leaning back against the seat and tapping on the back of my phone, feeling butterflies grow in my abdomen. I knew I made good first impressions, that people seemed to like me. I wasn’t called the ultimate rizzler for nothing. But it was still daunting, I was about to meet all the people who worked behind the team, behind me just so we could do what we do. 

The past week had been so strange.The change in dynamic was drastic. I had become so used to being the older one, the one to call the shots, to have so much wisdom to give. Almost naively so. All of a sudden I was back to being the baby - the one who didn’t know anything, who had to depend on others. I thought I was prepared. But the transition was hard to navigate. I didn’t quite know how to act, if I was honest.

“Yo chill, I’m not even that late,” I chuckle lightheartedly, looking out the car window, my eyes trying to find something worth changing my mind about Dallas for.

“Ten minutes is too much, we gotta pick up Rike too,” Lou complains, hands on the wheel. It was only April but the humidity made it feel like summer. “Were you late talking to that girl?”

“What girl?” I ask.

“That girl from last night!” Lou laughs, elbowing me.

I shrug, like I had no clue what she was talking about. A complete lie. I hadn’t been thinking straight ever since I saw her.

“Ohh you mean that girl downstairs!” I say sarcastically. The brunette next to me sees right through it though.

“Never heard your voice get so quiet and shaky I swear,” Lou says, a blush setting on the apples of my cheeks thinking back to last evening. “You were fully stuttering.”

“No way bro!” I groan, biting my lower lip so as to not laugh. Though I knew better. I was definitely stuttering.

I hadn’t seen much of the girl, just her face poking through the door into the hallway. But something about her took my breath away, I couldn’t look anywhere else. It was Lou finally elbowing me that made me realise I had been staring at the dark haired girl. She was so beautiful it physically pained me to look away, but with a struggle, I had done so. 

But then she spoke. And if I wasn’t trembling before, the lilt of her voice had me weak in the knees immediately. It was deep, yet simultaneously sweet. Nevermind the accent that hadn’t left my head all night. Lou made fun of me relentlessly all night because apparently, my voice was shaking when I talked to her. I think she was full of shit.

“You were, I don’t blame you,” the brunette murmurs. “She was hot.”

I kiss my teeth, looking out the window. “Don’t matter, she could be Zendaya and I still wouldn’t get into all that.”

Lou looks bewildered, eyes flickering between me and the road.

I grin at her, shaking my head. “Nah I’m staying celibate. Scout’s honor. Got me that Natty last season.”

It was true. For the first time last season I had not been involved with any girl - and it worked out pretty well in the end. It got me the ring. Adapting to a new team, new city, new life was already hard enough without fucking around. Girls had a way of making everything complicated.

“You? Celibate?” Lou asks, her tone skeptical. I suppose she remembers a different Paige from when we were both Huskies. I had changed a lot though, grown up.

“Trust,” I nod as we park in front of a nice apartment building, Arike making her way out and into the car.

“Yo,” she greets us, and I nod into the rearview mirror, meeting her gaze.

“Sup my rookie!” Arike grins and squeezes my shoulder. “You ready for tonight?”

“Aren’t we just gonna eat and go home?” I ask but Lou and Rike are quick to shake their heads.

“Nah these things don’t end till late, we know how to party here you know what I’m sayin?” The girl in the back grins.

“Don’t blame you, nothing else to do here,” I complain half-jokingly. 

“Yooo not too much. You’ll grow to like it,” Arike laughs, grabbing her phone. “Just don’t drink everything people offer you today, got it?”

“Yeah, everyone’s gonna be trying to get you drunk,” Lou chuckles. “My rookie year they had me almost blacked out.”

“Almost? You were blacked out. We had to carry you to bed.”

I laugh and sigh, rubbing my jaw, my nerves stirring within my abdomen. “Great.”

-

The restaurant is buzzing with people, an entire second floor reserved just for the Dallas Wings employees. Arike, Lou and I show up fashionably late, but to my pleasant surprise everyone’s too busy huddling around the bar, lining up for drinks. I smooth over my green sweatshirt, already feeling the heat get to me. How the hell was I supposed to dress for weather like this? It wasn’t even summer yet.

I walk over to Satou, who’s grinning widely at me.

“Look at you, our baby rookie. Let’s get you a drink!” She smiles convincingly. I glance at Arike and Lou behind me, snickering amongst themselves already. So it begins.

“Feels wrong to drink at a team event like this,” I tell the taller girl, guiding me towards the bar. I was more used to sneaking drinks into hotel rooms, doing our best to hide them from the coaching staff. Guess this is what growing up feels like.

“Nah, don’t worry. Everyone’s chill here,” Satou laughs and orders us two beers before I have the opportunity to interrupt and ask for a Shirley. Reluctantly I grab the beer, cheering with the girl next to me.

“To the saviour of the Wings!!” She jokes and I roll my eyes, shaking my head.

“Sorry, but could you check if they are Manzanilla olives?”

The accent. I immediately turn my back on Satou, my body working before my mind can as my eyes scan the room. And then I see her. The girl from the apartment underneath mine.

She’s standing at the other end of the bar, holding a black clutch in her hand as she talks with the bartender. Her dark hair is down, in perfect waves, not one strand out of order. The dress she’s wearing isn’t red, but more maroon, shade matching the red of her lipstick to the hilt. The one-shoulder dress leaves her left one completely bare, and the golden jewelry sitting against her light brown skin makes her sparkle in the moody lighting. No words would do justice, I know that much. My knees nearly buckle at the sight of her. This strange girl whose name I didn’t even know, yet kept haunting my existence here in Dallas.

“Oh they’re not? Then nevermind the martini, could I just get a glass of Chardonnay please?”

If I had been nervous before, then it was nothing compared to the way my stomach was stirring now. Which is insane considering I didn’t even know this girl’s name. Hell, I better just avoid her tonight. I’m not on my a game. I should just keep my distance.

“Paige! That’s the girl!” Lou is half whispering, half screaming over the crowd, incredibly obviously pointing at the dark haired girl. To my relief she doesn’t notice, too busy swirling the wine in her glass around and sniffing it. 

“Shut up,” I mouth to Lou as she walks up to me, Arike on her tail.

“What girl?” Arike whispers, already eyeing every woman over my shoulder.

I give Lou a look, widening my eyes and telling her to keep her mouth shut. But of course, it fails. I had no power here.

“We ran into this hot girl in Paige’s building yesterday and Paigey here got all shy and nervous.”

Arike bursts out laughing, and I’m pretty sure my face was going completely pink at this point. So I sip half of my beer quickly, letting the girls get over their laughing fit.

“You done?” I ask in annoyed, eyeing the girls.

Gasping for air, Arike nods and grins at me. “Well go get her.”

“She can’t, she’s celibate,” Lou answers. The shorter girl standing next to her scoffs, clearly finding amusement in that.

“Yeah, good luck with that. You’re the new hooper in town, gon’ be drowning in pussy. I was,” she says, sipping her beer. “The rookie year is crazy.”

“Oh trust, she was drowning in it at Uconn too-”

“Okay okay, chill guys,” I interrupt the conversation, Satou standing next to us quietly and chuckling to herself. 

“So which one is it?” Arike asks. Glancing over my shoulder I see the girl from downstairs talking to some guy around the same age as her. Just as I’m about to point her out, Satou and Arike are waving that exact guy over.

“Yo Trey!! My guy!!”

All of a sudden he’s walking over with her. I feel my face going red, my breathing growing ragged, my eyes quickly flicking to the floor. She was like the sun, as much as I wanted to I couldn’t look directly at her - it might blind me.

“What’s up, my favourite girls!” The guy - Trey, apparently - says brightly and dabs all of them up. 

“Ahh and the prodigy!” He grins, turning to me. I lick my lower lip and smile back, offering my hand. “I’m the guy with the camera, you’ll see me around. Trey.”

I dab him up, ignoring the tingling on the left side of my body where the dark haired girl is standing, evidently feeling as awkward as I was. Except she was better at hiding it, looking around the room with an air of confidence.

“Well I’m the one with the basketball, you’ll know where to find me. I’m Paige,” I flash him my most charming smile. Everyone laughs at my joke, except the girl beside me. I quickly decide that perhaps getting drunk wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“Oh this is Zari, she’s new from England, Linda finally hired someone to work on the social media shit,” Trey explains, pointing to the girl between me and him. I blink stupidly when I look at her. Somehow she was more beautiful up close which made my throat feel tighter. I quickly sip my beer again, looking to the ceiling. Fuck, pull yourself together. I wasn’t this superficial - feeling like this just because someone was hot. Who knows, she might be the worst person you’ve ever met.

“That would be me, hi!” She says when I realise I was barely listening to Trey before, completely not making note of her name. She shakes everyone’s hand, smiling kindly. Fuck, are my hands sweaty? Better wipe them on my shorts first. I gotta make eye contact - I’m sure a couple seconds will be enough. It might be all I can bear.

The girl turns to me, her right hand extended. I glance at it, gripping it gently. Her hand shake is surprisingly firm, but I barely notice, feeling as if my skin is on fire. The moment our eyes meet I look away, knowing that everyone and their mothers could tell I was blushing right now.

“I forgot your name,” is all that comes out of my mouth, so clumsily I wanna hide behind the bar and never come out when I realise how rude it sounded.

To my shock she’s not taken aback at all by my bluntness, instead holding herself with an almost regal air. I wasn’t sure if I was intimated or turned on - either way I was overcome with a desperate need to make her like me. Surely I was off to a horrible start.

Our eyes meet again. Hers are dark green, deep and rich like the pine trees back home. I can feel myself wanting to sink in deeper, to bask in their familiarity. To feel the sting of cold air and smell the snow falling from the sky and to bask in the scent of pine all over me. Before I know it I notice her glossed lips move, but my ears barely pick anything up. An I? And I think there was an A at the end? You gotta be kidding me.

“I- Ivanna?” I stutter. She chuckles softly, as the others around us snicker amongst themselves. Bitches. 

“No, darling, let’s try again,” she smiles, her tone so sweet it’s bordering on condescending. I fucking swoon at it. “Izara.”

I nod, not sure if the heat on my face is from how hot and humid it was inside the restaurant, or from the public humiliation in front of this gorgeous girl. I chuckle mostly to myself, rubbing my jaw and looking around to break eye contact finally. Far too distracting.

“Izara,” I repeat, noticing Satou, Arike, Lou and some of the others laughing at my clumsy behaviour. I was just begging Izara didn’t make note of why I was acting a fool. 

“Zari is better,” the brunette says, a slight teasing tone to her voice. I breathe heavily out my nose, trying to get the blush to settle from my cheeks.

“Zari, got it.”

“Took you long enough,” Arike teases, making everyone laugh, except Zari who just smiles at me.

“Guys, not all of us are used to the Texas heat. It messes with your head,” she says with enough authority in her voice to make everyone around us stop laughing and give me sympathetic looks.

“Uhh yeah, it’s hot,” I answer bluntly, my voice shaking a little as I rub my neck. On top of the mess I was, I could feel myself sweating. I have to get home as fast as possible. Or not home. But back to the apartment I was staying in for now, until the moment I could go back home to the East Coast.

“Shit, I’m Paige by the way,” I say, realising I never introduced myself to Zari. She scoffs, waving me off.

“Paige, it’s my job to know who you are,” she points out. It’s funny, and I want to laugh. But nothing comes out of my mouth, I’m simply unable to, her proximity leaving me completely discombobulated. So I just sip my beer.

“Right.”

-

Paige Bueckers hates me. The moment she met me I could tell. Maybe she was offended by the fact I didn’t recognise her last night. Figures, a star like her would have a huge ego. Still, I had one job tonight. To make her like me. And I had done the exact opposite. I could tell by the way she avoided my gaze, the way she barely wanted to shake my hand, abruptly pulling it away from my grip. She barely talked to me, wrapped up in a conversation with everyone besides me. I couldn’t afford to disappoint my boss, if I did it would be bye bye Dallas and hello London. 

I’m sitting between Trey and another colleague, Ava, both caught up in a lively conversation as I cut a piece of my steak, wrapping my lips around the fork and chewing on it. Glancing up from my plate, I see Paige throwing her head back as she laughs with her teammates, her entire demeanor so much more lively now that I wasn’t close to her. A slight irritation was growing in me, watching the carefree way she’s joking around with the people around her part of the long table. Who was she to make up her mind on whether she liked me so fast. I was the kind of person you grew to love. I’m sure she would as well.

“Okay everybody!” Curt Miller stands up clinking his glass with the cutlery. Suddenly everyone goes quiet, including the blonde. For a second our eyes meet, sending a strange jolt around my body. Blinking, I shift my gaze to the man, clearly ready to give a speech.

“Alright alright,” he laughs, “I just wanna thank everyone for coming here tonight. I was never good at these so let me keep it short. This is gonna be a big, exciting year and I’m so grateful to the Wings for giving me this opportunity. I know I’m a new face to some of you, but I’m in great company,” he grins and points to Paige. “And Linda here mentioned something about a new media employee too!”

Like on cue Linda stands up a few chairs to the right of me, nodding. “Yes Curt, we’ve got some young blood to help this year all the way from England. Izara here, should help us grow our social media reach.”

I smile, trying to focus on appearing together and poised, some people glancing towards me. 

“Awesome news!” Curt grins as Linda sits back down. “With two young talents I’m sure we’re gonna have a hell of a year,” he says, glancing at both me and Paige. I see Arike rub Paige’s shoulder, clearly excited and happy about how the lottery turned out for the Wings this year.

“Now since I’m boring everyone out of their minds why don’t you two say a few words.”

Pause. I feel a panic rise from somewhere deep in my abdomen. Don’t get me wrong, I had no issue with public speaking, no issue with performing. What I did have an issue with was improvising. I was the girl who planned, who made lists, who used to finish her essays the day before a deadline. With a plan I was golden, but to expect me to say anything, planless, was causing jitters. I was just hoping it didn’t show on my face.

Mine and Paige’s eyes meet, and I immediately know that I wasn’t as composed as I wanted to be. That she knew I was panicking. Bet this is just gonna make her hate me more.

Instead, to my surprise, she clears her throat and begins speaking with an easy confidence.

“Uh well, way to throw us under the bus Curt,” she jokes, immediately making everyone chuckle, including me. “Guess I know what kinda season this is about to be.” Another round of laughs around the table giving her time to scratch the back of her neck as she thinks. With a slight smirk on her face she continues.

“This is a big moment for me. I grew up with the sport, already knew I had a chance to go pro when I was eight. I’ve been waiting for a while to get to the league and to finally be here… It’s surreal. I feel really blessed, really grateful,” she says looking at her plate and then letting out a sly, quiet laugh. “Crazy that I’m drinking with the coaching staff right there, I’m so used to having to hide it.”

I chuckle with the rest of the group. There’s something about her, a smoothness, a charm that makes it impossible not to like her. Even improvising like this she seems completely in control, like she knows she’s got everyone wrapped around her finger. It’s impressive. I can’t look away.

“Geno didn’t let you drink?” Curt asks lightheartedly, making Paige’s blue eyes widen.

“He would’ve put belt to ass, lemme just say that.”

More laughter. Paige looks around meeting my gaze.

“Zari, I know you got that cold right? So maybe I should just speak for you so you have a voice tomorrow?”

Huh? I furrow my brows looking at her confused, but her eyes won’t budge, boring into mine. And then I realise. She’s trying to let me off the hook.

“Yes please,” I smile back, looking down to my lap. Something about the way she did that all for me, picked up on my nerves, found a way to get me out of it, was making my insides flip. You wouldn’t do that for someone you hate I suppose.

“I gotchu,” Paige grins, looking back to everyone around the table. “I think we’re both just really grateful for the opportunity and really excited for the season. Anyway, thanks guys.” 

Everyone claps and I do too, my heart warming at the way Paige Bueckers had just saved me. 

“Wait, you're sick?” Trey whispers. 

“Uh, a little.”

-

“Hope you feel better Zari!” Ava says as I wave bye, walking towards the exit.

“Thanks guys, I’m sure I will,” I say, knowing I felt just fine. Great even, after a few glasses of wine. As I step out into the evening, I hold my fur coat in my hands, too hot to put it on. To my surprise I see Paige standing right outside the restaurant, scrolling on her phone. Interrupted by the tapping of my heels, she lifts her gaze, the intensity of her blue eyes surprising.

“Hey,” she smiles, avoiding looking at my face again. She was really giving me mixed signals.

“Hi there,” I say, walking closer. “Thanks for rescuing me earlier.”

She looks at the parking lot, a sly smirk spreading across her face.

“Nah, you’re good,” the blonde grins, diamond studs in her ears sparkling. “Not a fan of speeches?”

I shrug, taking that as an invite for conversation. “No I can certainly be… If you give me approximately two weeks to prepare. Minimum.”

Paige chuckles, nodding to herself. “You’re that kinda girl huh?”

“Desperately so.”

She shifts on her feet, looking for something to say.

“That’s a good trait to have, I try to plan too but usually doesn’t last for longer than a week or two,” she explains. I nod knowingly.

“My brother’s a bit like that,” I sigh. I was already missing him.

Paige turns to me, looking for my gaze.

“You got a brother?”

I nod, “Yeah, he’s younger. Your age.”

She’s taken aback. “Hollup how old are you?”

“Turned 25 last month.”

“Damn,” she says before thinking. I scoff, my eyes widening, though finding amusement in her reaction

”Are you calling me old?” I ask with a serious tone, her face immediately going bright red. 

”No, no no, not at all. You look… great.  Amazing, and like. That’s not even old, I'm just trippin’. I just assumed you were my age but like a year is nothin-” she rambles, tripping over her words.

”Paige I’m taking the piss,” I laugh. She stops, looking at me confused.

”You’re what?”

Oh right, Americans. ”I’m joking around.”

She laughs. ”Taking the piss?”

I laugh too, the air immediately easing between us.

”I’mma start using that,” Paige chuckles, glancing at me. 

”You’re welcome,” I grin.

She scoffs. ”I didn’t say thank you.”

”You should,” I demand, more seriously, meeting her blue eyes. She immediately folds, blinking her long lashes.

”Thank you.”

I suddenly feel hot, warmth rising to my cheeks. I quickly look back to the ground, the intensity of her gaze too much right now.

”Hey, uh… I think we live in the same building,” she murmurs, watching the sky. Shit, she had recognised me, of course.

”Yeah… I’m sorry I didn’t recognise you. I really should have,” I quickly explain, feeling a little abashed but trying not to let it show.

”No, I just meant, I ordered an Uber. You need a ride?”

Oh. So she wasn’t mad. She was offering me a ride.

”I’d love one. Are you sure?”

”Totally,” Paige answers, smiling at me softly. She fans her own face, trying to find any relief for the heat. 

”Shit it’s hot,” the blonde groans. ”Do you mind if I take this off? I got a shirt underneath.”

”Oh, no go ahead darling,” I tell her.

With a sigh, Paige’s hands grip the back of her green sweatshirt, pulling it over her head. As she does my eyes can’t help it, flickering over her lower abdomen where both shirts have hiked up, showing a sliver of pale skin and black boxers peeking out of her shorts. Something about it makes my throat go dry. I’m not exactly sure what. The feeling almost unfamiliar to me. 

”That’s so much better,” Paige groans with relief, fixing the white oversized button up, chains resting against her chest. I feel my ears growing hot, quickly averting her gaze.

-

She’s not horrible, on top of being gorgeous she’s fucking great - funny, sweet, charismatic. Would be so much easier if Zari was an asshole like I had hoped earlier. I could feel butterflies in my stomach every time she looked at me. That familiar warmth that I knew too well.

We walk to the Uber together, and I make sure I open the door for her - I didn’t know her that well, but I could tell she was classy. On a whole different level than me. 

I climb in after her, unbuttoning more of my shirt for some airflow. For a second I think I catch her staring, but I knew it was unlikely. She was definitely giving me straight girl vibes. Of course my stupid ass was ogling after a straight girl - nothing new to me. My eyes immediately land on her thighs, her legs crossed and pressing together as she sits next to me. Okay, get a grip Paige.

”So… How you liking Dallas?” I ask, unable to take the silence in the car. 

”I haven’t seen much of it, just moved the other day,” she answers, her voice low but smooth, I could’ve listened to her talk all night. ”It’s very humid.”

”Damn that jetlag gotta be hitting hard huh?” I ask, looking at her.

”I look tired?” She asks, offended. An immediate panic takes over, my hands gripping the sweater in my hands. Shit.

”No you look fucking great. I would’ve never th-”

”Paige. I’m joking.”

Oh. I let out a sigh of relief, chuckling awkwardly. I look out the window, shaking my head at myself. I really needed to chill.

”Taking the piss?”

She lets out a loud, bright laugh, grabbing my forearm. The gold rings on her digits sparkle as her long, manicured nails dig into the white shirt. Immediate goosebumps rising underneath on my skin tell me I’m completely fucked.

“Exactly!” She gleams, her smile wide. “You did so good.”

That. I need to hear her say that again. I clear my throat to interrupt the bad thoughts, feeling Zari’s hand move off me, skin tingling as the weight of her touch lifts.

We pull up to our apartment building, both of us climbing out.

“I can transfer you some money for the ride,” Zari suggests as I let her into the building, eyes falling on her ass just for a second. Okay, no. Look away.

“No, Ion need you to,” I tell her sternly as we begin to climb up the flights of steps, her heels tapping against the tile of the floor. The sound echoes off the walls until we stop by her front door, silence draping over us, making me painfully aware of the way my heart was pounding in my chest.

“Well,” Zari smiles, turning to me, her green eyes even more prominent with the dark makeup surrounding them. Only then I notice how catlike they are, sharp and alert. Challenging almost.

I wanna say something smart, something witty. Something to make her laugh, or blush. I’m rummaging through my brain for anything coherent at least.

“I’ll see you at work,” she says, opening her door. I was running out of time.

“You’ll know where to find me,” I stupidly let out. Zari turns to look at me one more time and nods.

“Don’t stomp too loud please.”

With that she gets in, leaving me there with nothing to do but blink at the closed door and notice the flutters around my stomach. Rubbing my jaw, I slowly climb up one more flight of stairs, mind spinning around the girl. Completely, utterly out of my league. It only made me want her more.

-

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[kiwriteswords]

Could I request an Aaron Hotchner x Reader story where Reader is sunshine reader in a way like she is a hugger. She loves hugs and is very affectionate and in tune with her emotions. Hotch is taken back by it at first and begins to get used to it—needing her hugs at the end of the day!

Every touch is a redefining phrase [Aaron Hotchner x Affectionate!Fem!Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 5k|| AN: I loved writing this one!

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, canon-typical themes, bau!reader, Aaron Hotchner's POV, touch deprived Hotch, Affectionate Reader, 5 + 1 trope

Summary: 5 times an affectionate reader showed a touch-starved Aaron Hotchner affection, plus 1 time Aaron Hotchner shows reader affection....with a bonus scene!

I.

In the dimly lit corridors of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, Aaron Hotchner paced slowly, his brow furrowed deep in thought after a particularly grueling day. The team had just closed a tough case, one that had stretched their mental and emotional fibers to their limits. It had been his job, as always, to remain the stoic anchor, the unflappable leader who guided his team through the storm. But some days, the weight was heavier, and the cracks in his armor felt wider.

As he passed by the bullpen, his eyes inadvertently caught the lively interaction around one of the desks. There you were, seamlessly woven into the fabric of his team. Hotch noticed how effortlessly you lifted spirits; with a kind word to Reid, a gentle pat on Rossi's back, or a knowing smile towards JJ that seemed to wash away the shadows of the day. To Penelope, you offered a bright laugh that echoed warmth, and with Derek or Emily, a light-hearted tease that brought out their best grins. It was as if you had always been there, a missing piece that had finally clicked into place, completing the intricate puzzle that was his team.

Hotch had always prided himself on his observational skills, but it wasn’t until recently, observing your interactions, that he realized just how integral you had become. Not just in the professional sense, but in a way that breathed a softer edge into the hardened facade of the BAU.

He continued to watch, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his usually stern mouth. It was then, perhaps by fate or fortunate timing, that you looked up and caught his gaze. The smile you offered him then was different—deeper, more personal. It acknowledged his silent presence and the unspoken hardships of his role.

Without a moment's hesitation, you excused yourself from the group and approached him. Hotch straightened, preparing to retreat behind his usual formalities, but the earnest concern in your eyes halted him.

"You look like you could use this more than anyone today," you said softly, stepping into his personal space with a cautious, but undeniably affectionate, energy.

Before he could protest or construct a wall of professional detachment, you wrapped your arms around him in a gentle, yet firm hug. It was an affectionate gesture, simple in its intent but profound in its impact. Hotch stiffened momentarily, unaccustomed to such displays at work, especially directed towards him. But then, slowly, the rigid lines of his posture softened, and he found himself returning the embrace. It was a rare acceptance of comfort, a silent admission of his own vulnerability.

In that quiet corridor, with the soft hum of the distant city filtering through the windows, Aaron Hotchner allowed himself a moment of human frailty. The warmth of your hug seeped into him, loosening the tight bands of tension that had wound around his chest. It was unexpected, this simple human connection, and he didn't realize how starved he had been for such affection—how touch, a basic human need, had been so scarce in his life lately.

When you finally stepped back, there was a mutual understanding in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the strength and solace found in simple human touch. Your smile was reassuring, not pitying, empowering him rather than making him feel exposed.

"Thank you," he managed to say, his voice lower than usual, touched with a rare warmth. "I... didn't realize how much I needed that."

You nodded, your expression filled with a gentle kindness that didn't need words. Hotch watched as you returned to the team, seamlessly resuming your role as their uplifting force. As he turned to head back to his office, a subtle shift in his stride, there was a lightness in his steps that hadn’t been there before.

In the solitude of his office, Aaron Hotchner sat behind his desk, allowing himself a moment to reflect. The day had been hard, yes, but the evening brought a revelation wrapped in a simple gesture of affection. Maybe, just maybe, he thought, this was what his team had been missing. And perhaps, he had been missing it too.

II.

Weeks passed since the incident in the hallway, and the relentless wheel of cases continued to turn. Each case brought its own challenges, its own darkness that the BAU team diligently worked to dispel. Yet, even as victories were won and communities restored, the emotional toll on each member, especially Hotch, mounted imperceptibly.

One late evening, after a particularly draining case involving a child victim—cases that always hit too close to home for Hotch—he found himself last in the office, paperwork strewn across his desk as he attempted to finalize reports. The clock ticked past midnight, a silent testament to the loneliness of leadership. Hotch’s office was dimly lit, the soft glow of his desk lamp casting long shadows across the room.

You had noticed his prolonged hours, the way his shoulders seemed to bear an ever-increasing weight. That night, instead of heading home with the rest of the team, you lingered. With a gentle knock on his open office door, you broke the stillness of his concentration.

“You’re burning the midnight oil again, Hotch,” you observed, leaning against the doorframe, your voice carrying a lilt of concern mixed with a gentle chiding.

Hotch looked up, slightly surprised to see you still there. He offered a tired smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just finishing up,” he replied, his voice a low rumble in the quiet.

You didn’t move to leave; instead, you stepped inside, your presence filling the room with a comforting warmth. “You need to take a break, even if it’s just for a few minutes. Come on, walk with me to the break room. I promise the coffee is terrible, but the company isn’t.”

Reluctantly, Hotch rose from his chair, his movements stiff from hours of sitting. The two of you walked down the quiet hallway, the sound of your footsteps a soft echo in the empty building. Reaching the break room, you poured two pitiful excuses for coffee, handing one over with a sympathetic grimace.

Hotch accepted it with a grateful nod, the steam from the cup warming his face. You both leaned against the counter, sipping the bitter brew in companionable silence. Then, almost hesitantly, you placed your hand lightly on his arm, a silent offer of support.

“It’s tough, isn’t it? Being the one everyone looks up to, carrying all this weight alone?” you asked softly, your eyes meeting his with an understanding that went beyond mere words.

Hotch’s arm under your hand tensed initially, but as he met your gaze, something in him relaxed. It was as if your touch reassured him that it was okay to not always be the rock, to not always have to stand alone against the tide.

“Yes, it can be… overwhelming at times,” he admitted. The honesty in his voice more for himself than for you. He paused, considering his next words carefully. “And thank you, for… this,” he gestured slightly with his coffee cup, encompassing the late-night walk, the coffee, your comforting touch.

You smiled, your hand squeezing his arm gently before letting go. “You’re not alone, Hotch. We’re a team, remember? And sometimes, the team carries the leader just as much as the leader carries the team.”

The simplicity of your statement the sincerity in your voice, struck a chord within him. It was a reminder of the mutual support that formed the foundation of their team, a foundation that you had become an integral part of.

As you both returned to the quiet of the office, Hotch felt a subtle shift within him. The weight he carried seemed a little lighter, the path a little less solitary. And as he watched you walk back to your desk with a lightness in your step, he realized how much your presence had begun to mean to him—not just as a supportive colleague but as someone who could see through the armor he wore every day.

Maybe, Hotch thought as he settled back into his work with a newfound ease, maybe what he needed was right here all along, and perhaps, just perhaps, it was time to let that support in a little more.

III.

After a physically intense confrontation on a case that ended with Aaron Hotchner being thrown against a wall, the BAU team returned to Quantico wearied but victorious. Hotch, his usual composed self, dismissed his throbbing headache as a minor inconvenience, focusing instead on the paperwork that needed his attention. But you noticed. You always noticed when something was off, especially with him.

Late in the evening, as the office grew quiet with the departure of the team, you walked into Hotch’s office. He was hunched over a report, the dim light accentuating the strain in his eyes.

"Hotch, you need to take a break," you said, your tone firm yet filled with a gentle concern that he found harder to deflect than usual.

"I’m fine, just need to finish this up," Hotch replied without looking up, his voice a low grumble.

You didn’t buy his dismissal. Moving closer, you leaned against his desk, your presence unavoidable. "You’re not fine. I saw you hit your head. Let me at least check your pupils," you insisted, reaching for the small flashlight you’d started carrying after joining the BAU.

With a resigned sigh, Hotch finally leaned back in his chair and allowed you to hold his gaze as you shone the light briefly in each eye. His pupils responded normally, but the concern in your eyes didn’t wane. You reached out, your hand brushing against his forehead to check for any signs of swelling or deeper injury. Your touch was light, but to Hotch, it felt like a balm to the harshness of his day.

"You don’t have to always be the strongest one in the room, you know," you murmured as you withdrew your hand, your eyes searching his.

There was something about your words, softly spoken with an earnest warmth, that caught Hotch off-guard. He was used to being the pillar for others to lean on, not the other way around. Yet, as he sat there under your careful scrutiny, he couldn’t deny the comfort that your concern brought.

"Why don’t you let me drive you home tonight? Just to be safe," you suggested, already gathering some of his belongings as if it was decided.

Hotch wanted to protest—to insist that he was capable of taking care of himself—but the fatigue was gnawing at him, and the ease of your offer was too tempting to resist. "Alright," he conceded, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips, acknowledging the small victory in your eyes.

The drive to his place was quiet, the silence comfortable. When you arrived, you didn’t immediately leave as he expected. Instead, you followed him to the door, hesitating as he unlocked it.

"Would you like to come in for coffee? It’s the least I can do after making you drive all the way here," Hotch found himself saying, the invitation surprising even himself.

You nodded, stepping inside his home—a place few from work had ever entered. The domestic setting shifted something between you. In his kitchen, as you both moved to prepare the coffee, the space closed in, filled with a new, unspoken acknowledgment of the care between you.

Sitting across from him at his small kitchen table, you handed him a mug, your fingers brushing against his with a deliberate tenderness. "You know, it’s okay to rely on others sometimes, even for us who are used to being strong," you said, your voice low and comforting.

Hotch looked at you then, really looked at you. The soft lighting of the kitchen illuminated features filled with genuine affection and concern. He realized how natural it felt to have you here, in his personal space, offering care he was so unaccustomed to receiving.

"Thank you, for everything tonight," he said sincerely, the weight of his roles—unit chief, father, protector—temporarily lifted by your presence.

As you smiled, something in Hotch’s tightly controlled heart shifted. Maybe it was the warmth of the kitchen, or the way you looked sitting there across from him, but he felt a pull, a desire for something more than the solitude he’d so long accepted as part of his life.

And in that moment, with the simple act of sharing a late-night coffee, the distance between professional and personal began to blur, hinting at a potential future neither of you had yet voiced, but which suddenly seemed within reach.

IV.

The Behavioral Analysis Unit had seen its fair share of tense days, fraught with the grim realities of their work, but today was different. Today was a good day—a successful resolution to a complicated case, with the team working like a well-oiled machine. Spirits were high as they returned to the office, a rare buzz of laughter and light chatter filling the air. Yet, amidst the camaraderie and shared relief, Aaron Hotchner found himself anticipating something else, something more personal: the simple, affectionate gestures you offered so freely.

As unit chief, Hotch had always maintained a careful, composed demeanor, but lately, he found himself increasingly aware of how much he looked forward to those moments of kindness from you. He wasn’t naturally inclined towards affection; his career, his past, and his role as a father to Jack had demanded a more stoic approach to life. But your presence had subtly begun to alter the landscape of his daily experiences.

Standing by his office window, he watched as you interacted with the team, your laughter mingling with theirs, your hand resting briefly on Morgan’s shoulder in congratulations, your high-five with Garcia, and the gentle way you listened to Reid’s excited ramble about the statistical probabilities they had overcome. Each gesture seemed to weave you deeper into the fabric of the team, and Hotch couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through him—a warmth he hadn’t known he’d been missing until you had started to fill that void.

When you finally turned towards his office, your smile bright and eyes shining with the success of the day, Hotch felt a pull in his chest. As you approached, his heart unconsciously beat a fraction faster, a reaction he was still coming to terms with.

“Hotch, we did it!” you exclaimed, stepping into his office with an energy that seemed to light up the dimly lit room. Without hesitation, and perhaps because the day's mood lifted all semblance of the usual barriers, you wrapped your arms around him in a celebratory hug.

Hotch stiffened for a mere second, old habits dying hard, but almost immediately relaxed into the embrace. Your hug was warm and sincere, and he found himself not wanting to step back too quickly. As you pulled away, your hands lingered on his arms, ensuring he was truly sharing in the moment with you.

“It was a team effort, but you played a crucial part,” Hotch found himself saying, his voice softer than usual. He was learning, slowly, how to return the warmth you so effortlessly gave.

“I just keep everyone on track,” you replied modestly, your hands finally dropping to your sides, but your smile remaining. “But seeing you smile like that? It’s definitely a highlight.”

Hotch was momentarily caught off guard. He hadn’t realized his expression had softened so visibly, nor that you were so attuned to his usually restrained emotions. “Well,” he started, clearing his throat slightly, “your positivity—it’s infectious.”

You chuckled, a sound that seemed to resonate in the quiet after the day’s chaos. “I’m glad it helps. But honestly, it’s days like today that remind me why we do what we do. And having a leader who keeps us grounded and focused—it makes all the difference, Hotch.”

The way you said his name, with a respect and a hint of something deeper, stirred something in him. It was a connection, palpable and growing stronger with each shared experience, each moment of exchanged comfort. Hotch was usually a man of few words, but as he stood there with you, he realized that your affection, once something he hadn’t known he needed, had become something he deeply valued.

As you turned to leave, ready to rejoin the celebrations outside, Hotch found himself speaking almost without thinking. “Thank you, for everything.”

You paused, then looked over your shoulder, your smile softening. “Anytime, Hotch.”

Watching you walk away, Hotch felt a sense of gratitude. Not just for the successful case, but for the unexpected gift of your presence in his life—something that had become as vital to him as the very work they did together. And as he stepped out to join the rest of his team, Aaron Hotchner felt a lightness in his step, a readiness to embrace whatever challenges lay ahead, knowing that with you by his side, even the tough days might feel a little less daunting.

V.

The intensity of the field operation had escalated unexpectedly, with the BAU team working to apprehend a highly volatile unsub. Aaron Hotchner, ever the leader, had taken point, his focus as sharp as it was relentless. Yet, in a split-second decision that had more to do with instinct than analysis, he found himself entering the building first, with minimal backup—a move that was dangerously close to reckless.

The operation concluded successfully, the unsub in custody and no injuries on their team, but the aftermath brought its own storm. Back at the BAU, the air was thick with adrenaline and relief, yet there was an undercurrent of tension, particularly from you.

Hotch could feel your eyes on him long before you approached. When you finally did, your steps were quick, your posture rigid with a kind of restrained energy. He braced himself, anticipating a debrief or perhaps a tactical critique, but what came was neither.

"Hotch, what were you thinking?" Your voice was low, charged with an emotion he hadn't often heard directed at him. It was anger, yes, but there was something more—something deeper, more personal.

"I made a judgment call," Hotch replied, his tone even, trying to maintain professional detachment. "It was necessary to—"

"Necessary?" you interrupted, stepping closer, your voice rising slightly with frustration. "You could have been killed, Aaron. What then?"

The use of his first name in such a tone caught him off guard, its impact silencing him for a moment. It wasn't just anger for a perceived tactical error; it was fear, raw and unmasked, the fear of losing him.

"You know the risks, we all do. I did what I thought best at the moment," Hotch tried to explain, his voice firmer, attempting to steer the conversation back to professional grounds.

But you shook your head, the movement sharp, dismissive of his justification. "I know the risks. I know we all face them every day but watching you... You didn't have to be the first one through that door, not without backup."

Hotch watched as you struggled for composure, your breaths deep as you worked to calm yourself. It was then he realized how deeply woven his safety was with your emotions, how much you cared—not just as a colleague but as someone who might bear deeper feelings for him.

"I don't know whether to yell at you or just..." Your voice trailed off, and suddenly, you stepped forward, closing the distance between you with a few brisk steps, and wrapped your arms around him in a firm hug.

Hotch stiffened, surprise overtaking him for a fraction of a second before he slowly returned the embrace. His arms around you felt both foreign and utterly right. He could feel your heart beating fast against his chest, your breath warm through the fabric of his shirt.

When you finally stepped back, there was a vulnerability in your eyes that mirrored his own internal conflict. "I'm sorry," you said, your voice softer now, "I just... I couldn't stand the thought of losing you."

Hotch took a deep breath, his usual composure tempered by the emotional intensity of the moment. "I understand," he said quietly. "And I'm sorry for causing you that fear."

As you nodded, a silent agreement passed between you, a mutual recognition of something more than just professional concern—a deep, personal connection that neither of you could deny.

That night, as Hotch lay awake, replaying the day's events, your words echoed in his mind. The fear in your voice, the relief in your hug—it all painted a picture he hadn't allowed himself to see fully until now. It wasn't just about duty or protecting others; it was about protecting what was growing between you two, something fragile yet potent.

Perhaps, Hotch thought, it was time to explore this new, uncharted territory, not as a leader or an agent, but simply as Aaron, a man who might just need someone as much as they needed him.

+1

In the quiet aftermath of a routine day at the BAU, Aaron Hotchner found himself lingering in the bullpen longer than usual. The files were all processed, the team had largely dispersed, and the soft hum of the office equipment filled the space with a gentle, familiar buzz. But tonight, he wasn’t drawn to the solitude of his office or the call of the paperwork that always awaited him. Instead, his gaze kept drifting towards your desk, where you were methodically organizing your case notes.

The past weeks had subtly shifted the dynamics of your interactions. Each shared glance, every quiet conversation had slowly woven a deeper connection between you two—a connection Hotch had grown to rely on more than he'd anticipated. He realized, with a clarity that was both thrilling and daunting, that he was no longer merely receiving your affectionate gestures out of happenstance or your innate kindness. Now, he found himself seeking them out, craving the warmth and solace they offered.

"Staying late again, Hotch?" Your voice broke through his reverie as you stood up, stretching slightly after hours of sitting.

"Just wrapping up," Hotch replied, his voice steady, though his heart beat slightly faster with the decision he was about to make. "Actually, could we talk for a minute?"

Your brow furrowed lightly with concern, but you nodded, walking over to where he stood. "Of course. Everything okay?"

He led the way to his office, holding the door open for you before closing it gently behind him. The privacy of the office felt suddenly significant, the space between them charged with all the unspoken words of the past months.

Hotch took a deep breath, his usual composure battling with the need to express feelings that were far from professional. "I wanted to thank you," he began, watching your reaction closely. "For everything these past weeks... for your support."

You smiled, a soft, genuine expression that made his heart skip. "I’m always here for the team," you replied, then added more softly, "for you."

"It’s more than that," Hotch said, stepping closer. His voice was low, each word measured but heavy with emotion. "I find myself looking forward to our interactions. Not just because of the comfort you bring, but because I... I value you. Greatly."

The air seemed to shift as he spoke, the room growing quieter, the distance between you more profound yet somehow closer. You looked up at him, your eyes searching his, and in them, he saw a reflection of his own uncertainty mingled with hope.

"I’ve come to rely on your presence," Hotch continued, his usual restraint giving way to a vulnerability he seldom showed. "Not just as a teammate, but as someone very important to me. I’m not sure what that means for us, but I needed to be honest about my feelings."

Your response was soft, a whisper that filled the room with more warmth than the dim light could provide. "I’m glad you told me, Aaron. Because I feel the same way. I was just waiting for you to see it, too."

In that confession, a weight lifted from Hotch’s shoulders, a burden he hadn’t fully acknowledged he’d been carrying. Without another word, he stepped forward, closing the remaining space between you, his movements tentative but driven by a newfound courage. When he wrapped his arms around you, it was with a gentleness born of deep affection and respect.

You returned the embrace, your arms encircling him, offering not just comfort but a promise. Hotch held you closer, a sigh of relief and contentment escaping him. Here, in the quiet solidarity of his office, he allowed himself to simply feel—to embrace the affection and connection that had grown between you, no longer just his sanctuary from the demands of his job, but a central part of his life he no longer wished to be without.

As you both pulled away, the look you shared was one of mutual understanding and anticipation. No words were needed to affirm the change; it was as profound as it was silent, marking a new beginning that neither of you would have to face alone again.

+ bonus.

Weeks into their newfound relationship, Aaron Hotchner found himself navigating a world that felt both profoundly familiar and refreshingly new. Each day brought with it the usual challenges of leading the BAU, but now there was an undercurrent of anticipation for the quieter moments he could share with you—moments that, until recently, he hadn't allowed himself to fully acknowledge or embrace.

It was late on a Thursday evening when Hotch realized the day had gotten away from him. The caseload had been heavier than usual, the paperwork nearly endless, and he had spent hours in a tense negotiation during a standoff that had thankfully ended without incident. As the office slowly emptied, Hotch felt the weight of the day pressing down on him, a familiar exhaustion that now, thankfully, had a remedy he was no longer hesitant to seek.

He found you in your office, wrapping up your own day. The soft glow of your desk lamp illuminated your focused expression, a sight that now brought him an immense sense of peace. Hotch knocked lightly on the open door, his presence causing you to look up with a smile that instantly eased some of the tension in his shoulders.

"Hey," you greeted, your voice warm. "Everything okay?"

Hotch stepped inside, his hands in his pockets, his posture relaxed yet revealing a hint of his need. "Could use a moment with you," he admitted, something he might have struggled to voice before, but now felt right, necessary.

You nodded, understanding immediately. You stood and approached him, your hands finding his in a gentle but firm grasp. "Let’s go for a walk," you suggested, and Hotch merely nodded in agreement, grateful.

The night was cool and clear as you both walked in silence to a nearby park, a route that had become a cherished routine. The quiet of the evening was a stark contrast to the day's chaos, the rhythmic sound of your footsteps together grounding him.

After a few minutes, you stopped at a secluded bench, turning to face him. "What’s on your mind, Aaron?" you asked, your concern evident.

"It’s nothing specific," Hotch began, his gaze meeting yours under the streetlights. "Today was just... long. And I found myself thinking about this moment—just being here with you." He paused, his voice softening. "I guess I’m still getting used to the fact that I can ask for this, for us."

You smiled, stepping closer, your hands reaching up to gently cradle his face. "You can always ask, Aaron. Whenever you need to feel connected, or just need to escape for a while. I’m here," you reassured him, your touch as soothing as your words.

Hotch leaned into your touch, a contented sigh escaping him. "I’m glad," he murmured, closing his eyes briefly to savor the warmth of your hands, the affection in your gesture. "I never knew how much I needed this... needed you."

Then, impulsively, perhaps driven by the depth of his emotions, Hotch wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into an embrace that spoke volumes. It was an embrace of gratitude, of recognition of the space you had come to occupy in his life—not just as a partner but as a source of strength and comfort.

You hugged him back just as tightly, your own sigh of contentment mingling with the night air. "I need you too, Aaron," you whispered, words that fortified the bond between you, sealing the promise of mutual support and affection.

As you both eventually pulled away, there was a shared smile, a silent acknowledgment of the journey ahead—of challenges to face and joys to embrace, together. Hotch realized then, with a clarity that filled him with a profound sense of peace, that this—this simple, beautiful exchange of affection—was now an integral part of his life, a part he cherished deeply and would safeguard with all he had.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

@person-005

@iyskgd

[anashins]

Too Hot for Snow

Pairing: Jaehyun x reader x Jaemin

Genre: angst, drama, romance, smut, love triangle

Word Count: 17k

Warnings: There are two smut scenes with the same mc, but nothing that really needs a tw. If you aren't here for him, you can skip them without missing out on anything tho! The other mc won't come short in terms of romance either, trust the process! But it's a bittersweet ending.

Summary: When your husband decides to file for divorce, you find yourself back in the arms of your first love. After all, things are different now and you're not kids anymore. But after a weekend lost in heavy snowfall and wishful dreams, you come to the painful realization that some people don't want to change, and others change too much.

A/N: I wrote this inspired by my own experience from a time where I had to decide between my situationship and now-bf. I thought I could pass this message on to ones who need this as well. Sometimes, we make the right decisions, sometimes the wrong ones. Sometimes, it's too late, sometimes it's not. (Also, I miss Jaehyun :( D-497)

Three years. That was how long your marriage had lasted.

“I want a divorce.”

These words shouldn’t surprise let alone hurt you - but they still did. After all, nothing could prepare you for the day your husband decided to divorce you.

You had talked about it before Jaehyun had moved out and mutually agreed on seriously thinking about an official separation while taking this six month break from each other. 

Yet, hearing this final decision out loud from your own husband’s lips made it real. And even though it had been foreseeable and up to a point even inevitable, you hadn’t been prepared for reality, for the fact that now, this was indeed real.

Your husband didn’t want to be married to you any longer. 

How was that even possible?

We walk down the aisle, thinking it will be forever. Donned in our white gown, the veil in our hair and the flower bouquet close to our chest, we are full of hope, light and love for the person who awaits us by the altar. 

“Till death do us part” is considered the love line of our lives as we all desire to vow it one day to our partner.

But thinking about it, it sounds morbid. We stand in front of witnesses and promise to the heavens that it will literally take a terminal illness, a fatal accident or another forced act of nature to tear this love apart. 

The painful truth is that it takes much, much less.

It often takes minimal profound, heroic and inspiring reasons for two married people to never look at each other again. Oftentimes, love doesn’t get torn apart by death. It gets torn apart by pent-up arguments, lack of commitment and the belief that everything you already own still isn’t enough.

“What about Kang Kang?”

Your throat was so dry, you didn’t even recognize your own voice, and Jaehyun ran his fingers through his hair. He had dark circles under his eyes and his clothes were wrinkled, hair completely askew. 

There had been a time, back then in university, where on weekends, you both had looked like that, but for entirely different reasons. You were just staying at home, playing games and watching movies together. It had been the best and most carefree time of your lives. The strict business man Jaehyun had turned into throughout the years would have never left the house looking like this.

At this moment, you could see your past boyfriend in your husband again, who you had long deemed missing, and you wondered where you both had taken the wrong turn in your once fairytale-like relationship.

“He’s your dog on paper,” Jaehyun said nearly matter-of-factly. “You can keep Kang Kang.”

You bit into your bottom lip, so hard that you swore you could nearly taste something metallic. “Is this your final decision?”

In the break of the second that he needed to answer, you grew hopeful again. Hopeful that your husband would admit this decision was wrong, that he wanted to work on things for you two to be happy again.

Because this was the conclusion you had come to last night. You didn’t want a divorce, you didn’t want to give this all up. You wanted your little family, you wanted your husband and your dog, and children of your own in the future.

But instead, Jaehyun said with a tired, but determined voice,

“It’s my final decision.”

____

If Jaehyun were a season, he’d be summer. 

He was the feeling of getting woken up by sunshine tickling the tip of your nose. He was the salt on your skin when you emerged from the sea, the sand beneath your toes and the water dripping from your hair tips. He was the shade under a tree on sweltering days and flowers blooming in all colors.

He was everything good, fair and bright.

… Until summer vanished and you were left alone when seasons changed. It didn’t only become clear by change in weather, but also by the fact that Jaehyun had taken every last piece of himself out of your once shared apartment.

By the next week, he had officially filed for divorce. 

Summer had come to an end.

____

If Jaemin were a season, he’d be winter.

He was the feeling of thick sweaters when you got dressed on a cold day. He was the sound of snow crunching under your boots, the cup of hot chocolate you drank while watching the icebound lake. He was the snowstorm that came overnight and locked you in, causing chaos and destruction.

Jaemin was charming, tempting and dangerous.

But who, after a hot, sweltering summer, had never not anticipated a beautiful winter wonderland?

Luckily, winter came early that year.

____

“Why are you calling me at this hour?”

You stared at the skyline stretching in front of you. The few cars passing by were only recognizable by their headlights, but apart from that as well as a handful of windows reflecting some light in the building across from you, it was a quiet and dark night, the clock showing 3am.

“Why are you picking up?” you asked.

A light hearted laughter that made your heart jump followed. “I will always pick up when you call, you know that.”

“I know.”

A beat of silence passed by as you opened the balcony door and stepped outside, closing it again behind you. You turned your head to the sky and watched the moon, and you knew Jaemin was doing the same right now. 

“Did you already sign and send out the papers?” Jaemin questioned.

“Yes,” you answered, and as you spoke, you could see a small cloud forming in front of your face. “They are at my lawyer’s now to get checked. So perhaps, by next week, his lawyer will get them and send them out to him to sign too. Then, I’ll be a divorcée.”

“Don’t use that word.”

“Why not?”

“It sounds like you’ll be a lonely, sad woman.”

“Well, if anything, I’ll be a lonely, sad dog-mom.” Your gaze wandered aside to the balcony door from where you could see Kang Kang sleeping peacefully on this dog bed in the very corner of the living room.

“You’re neither going to be a lonely, sad woman nor a lonely, sad dog-mom. You’re going to be free. You should be happy.”

“I can only be happy with you.”

Jaemin let out a chuckle that came in unison with a cool winter breeze grazing your skin, and only now you noticed how icy it actually was outside, only dressed in your pajamas and a bathrobe. But right now, you didn’t mind the cold. You only tried to remember the last time you had felt so… like Jaemin had said… happy. 

It had been half a year since Jaehyun had come to you to file for a divorce and already a full year since you had actually started living in separation. That was enough time to move forward when you had been long unhappy before.

You could finally quit pretending, quit fighting, quit caring. You had finally reconnected with the man you had always referred to as your first love, willing to start all over again with him.

Then why, when you looked at the night sky, the only thing your mind wandered back to was still the night Jaehyun had proposed to you?

Back then, he had just graduated from university and you had been working in your job for two years already. He had saved up all the money that he had earned while being enlisted to buy you the perfect engagement ring that was now kept hidden in your drawer along with the wedding band. A very beautiful ring that had once been a symbol for a very beautiful relationship.

His proposal had taken place under the night sky too, in privacy like you had wished for, with only the moon and stars as witnesses. It had hurt to look at the night sky for a very long time after your separation. But it didn’t anymore now, it was more of a nostalgic feeling.

As though Jaemin could read your thoughts, he said, “Don’t worry, when we get married, we don’t have to go through a divorce, I’ll get you an even more striking ring.”

“Stop joking.”

“I’m not joking,” he obliged. “I mean it.”

“Jaemin…” You swallowed, hard. “What are you even saying?”

“I’m saying,” you overheard him taking a deep breather, “if I had done things right the first time, we would have stayed together after high school and you would have gotten married to me instead, and you wouldn’t need to go through all this now.”

You both knew that this wasn’t true. 

There had been grave things that had led to the downfall of your first relationship and you into the arms of your soon-to-be ex-husband. Things that had been totally out of your might to control as you had been so young. But that was long in the past and you had both grown enough as people to pick up where you had left off and do it better this time. 

After all, Jaemin was your first love. That meant something, that was something special.

You sighed. “We were only kids. But now we’re adults. We now have the chance to do it better than back then, Jaemin, and that means to always be honest with each other.”

“I mean every word I said.”

You felt your heart turn heavy. “But for me, it means that I don’t think I will be ready to get married again in the next few years. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about that.” His light-hearted laughter took the weight from your chest at an instant. That was what had always fascinated you about Jaemin. Everything seemed so easy and carefree with him. “I’ll wait. One year, two years, five years, ten years… I’ll wait until you’re ready again.”

“Back then, you never wanted to get married and always dreamed about getting famous, moving to America....” You only then realized that it could be taken as an insult and wanted to correct yourself quickly, but he preempted, 

“Back then, I chose foolishness over commitment. But this time, I mean it and I will come get you next week.”

“Get me?” You raised a brow. “To where?”

“To Jeonju."

“To do what?”

“To be with me.”

“I can’t move to Jeonju so suddenly, Jaemin. I have a job here, my apartment, my dog, my family, especially my grandma…”

“Then only for the weekend. Bring Kang Kang with you. And the rest, we’ll figure it out together.”

Silence from your end, but he was being patient. “Do you mean it?”

“I mean it this time too. It’s been two weeks since we’ve last seen each other and we only met twice overall since back then. I know there is so much going on in your life right now, but I need more of you. And you could need a break from your daily life. So come to me.”

A romantic weekend in Jaemin’s home in Jeonju sounded exactly like what you needed right now. 

So you answered, “Okay, let’s do it.”

You were looking forward to winter.

____

The first family gathering without your husband took place two days later, the weekend before you planned on leaving for your short trip to Jeonju.

You had informed your mother about your separation two weeks after the official decision via a text message, very short and dry. You hadn’t wanted to speak to anyone as to why and when, ignoring all upcoming calls from every family member since the news had spread like wildfire. It had been hard enough the first time already when you had to explain why your husband had moved out. You couldn’t do this all over again.

Not because you were rude. But because you were still hurting and you feared that speaking about it stirred up feelings you had long locked up deep inside your heart. Only now, you were ready to face everyone again. Because half a year later, you were fine again.

Your big family adored Jaehyun so much, especially your grandmother, so you still met her with a heavy heart. To her, Jaehyun had been the perfect grandson-in-law, everything she had ever wished for you, and the feeling had been mutual since you had rarely seen your own relatives act with your grandmother as closely as Jaehyun had.

Whenever you had visited, he had brought her gifts, helped her with the chores and told her stories that made her laugh her heart out. Nobody else had done all this with such sincerity and continuity as Jaehyun, and it broke your heart to know that you had robbed her of this experience forever.

Your grandmother was celebrating her 80th birthday that Saturday, and with her declining health you didn’t know for how many more birthdays she could still be around, so you wanted to spend the remaining time with her, even if it was only you alone.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?”

You were sitting on the couch in her living room while everyone else was still dining, chatting and laughing.

“I think I’m doing quite fine.” 

“Are you sure?”

She reached out her weak, fragile hand and touched your cheek. You started to wonder when your grandmother had aged so much. The woman who had watched over you when you were still a child, had driven you to school, had made you food, and had let you spend the weekends with her. The one who had dried your tears when you had gotten your heart broken in school, who had picked up every single broken piece of you throughout the years.

She couldn’t do all that anymore, but she still could tell how you were feeling just by taking a brief look at you.

You couldn’t deceive your grandmother, so you just shrugged and her hand slipped from your cheek right into yours, squeezing it meekly. 

“It’s alright to still mourn him, sweetheart. If, at some point in your life, you realize that you have made the wrong decision, don’t hesitate for a single second and tell him.”

“What do you mean?”

You didn’t believe in the term ‘the one that got away’ which people would commonly use to describe a lost lover they were still thinking about all the time. You believed that you could grow to love someone just as much as you could grow to stop loving someone. If humans could never move on, how were they supposed to continue living?

“Your grandfather…” Around your grandmother’s thin lips played a mild smile that gave her face back something very youthful. “He was and will always be the love of my life. I married him young and I stayed loyal to him until he passed away. I loved him with my whole heart and he was the only person that had ever evoked such feelings inside of me.”

It tightened around your chest as it reminded you painfully of Jaehyun.

“But there was a time before our marriage,” your grandmother continued, and although the smile around her lips was still present, it wasn’t quite merry anymore, but rather pained, “where we were separated, because we didn’t know whether we should get married or not. There was still so much to see in the world, so many people to get to know. Why would we settle so early? So we decided we wouldn’t.”

“Grandma, you never told me that.” You squeezed her hand back to comfort her.

“I got back with my first ever love from when I was still a teenager. The timing was just right, we both seemed to have evolved so much. Maybe fate wanted us to take this path and meet again much later.”

Now, warmth grew in your heart as it reminded you of Jaemin. 

You had gotten to know each in the second year of high school when he transferred to your school, and the two years that followed was a whirlwind of ups and downs that, looking back at, you wouldn’t have wanted to miss a single second of. After all, it had forged you into the person you were now, and also into the one that had met Jaehyun and had now led you back to Jaemin. 

But you feared your story would separate from your grandmother’s at this point. “How did you then end up with grandpa?”

You now understood why your grandmother was wearing that expression. It wasn’t a fully happy core memory anymore, nor a completely sad one either. It was bittersweet. “It didn’t work out the second time around as well.”

“...May I ask why? You sounded so happy. What happened?” It wasn’t like you wanted to push her boundaries, you were genuinely curious as you secretly found yourself in a similar position now.

“When one day, I returned home, I encountered your grandfather by my house. Apparently, he had waited two days and nights for me and refused to leave unless I talked to him. So I did and he officially proposed. I wanted a week to think about this, and when I, following this event, wanted my first love to make a decision, he couldn’t.”

“He didn't want to marry you?”

“Even after all these years, he didn’t know whether he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. And I wanted a man that knew.” 

You inhaled deeply. “And you never went back to your first love.”

“I never went back to him,” she repeated. “Not because I didn’t love him, but because I knew your grandfather would show up in ways he could never. And that was what I wanted.”

You were asking yourself whether your grandmother told you this story on purpose. But then again, she never did anything without a purpose. She wanted you to learn something from it, and it actually hurt you quite a bit that she was questioning your decision.

“I don’t regret it. Do you regret it, grandma?”

“I don’t regret anything either, sweetheart, absolutely not.” You were worried that she might conceal the truth from you, but from her voice alone and the way her mien changed to the one she was always wearing when she talked lovingly about your grandfather, you were assured that she was being honest and always had been. “Sometimes, I still think about him and wonder where he is, what he’s doing if he’s still al-... And it’s normal. Sometimes, I wonder what if. But if I could turn back time, I wouldn’t have chosen differently.”

Your grandmother’s gaze wandered to the coffee table where you spotted something very familiar for the first time since you had arrived: a pink bouquet consisting of different summer flower arrangements. The one Jaehyun and you usually got together and brought over to your grandmother whenever you visited.

This time, you hadn’t had time to bring anything, and admittedly it had also slipped your mind completely. Yet, the very same bouquet was standing there on the coffee table.

“Jaehyun was here?” you breathed.

She nodded. “This morning.”

You weren't surprised. This was typical of Jaehyun. He always thought about others first, never missing an event, always reliant and considerate. With your own mind always wandering, you had very much relied on him and he had never complained about taking matters into his own hands.

“Grandma, I-” You didn’t know why your heart suddenly felt so heavy.

“I’m not telling you what to do, sweetheart. I’m just wondering if nowadays, before a couple decides to divorce, they have already given everything. There is a reason you were married in the first place. That’s all. That is something you should always think of.”

Yes, you had given everything, every day and minute of your marriage. 

When Jaehyun had stayed for work longer, then worked during the weekends and then rarely came home anymore. When you had started to feel lonely, not appreciated and unheard of your feelings. When, every time you had still seen each other, every minor thing led to an argument where one of you needed to leave the house. 

You had tried, over and over again. 

“I have given it my all, grandma. I have.”

“If you can confidently say that, then move on, sweetheart.”

____

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

You followed Jaehyun into his new apartment, Kang Kang passing by you. He was jumping up and down, circling around Jaehyun like the happy labrador he was. As you had figured out, there were no dogs allowed in Jaemin’s apartment, so you had asked Jaehyun to take care of him this specific weekend.

You wondered whether it was selfish of you and quickly came to the conclusion that yes, it was, and cruel on top of that too. That was why you hid the truth from your soon-to-be ex-husband and had told him you had work in Jeonju this weekend and no other family could take Kang Kang. At least the latter was the truth as you had earnestly tried it everywhere before, but to no avail.

At least, you knew Kang Kang was in good hands, and he hadn’t seen his human dad in so long either. You put your dog’s belongings in the living room, which consisted of his bed, a few toys, his bowls and other necessities.

“Don’t you have to work this weekend, though?” you asked Jaehyun politely. 

You still didn’t know how to behave in front of him whenever you had to interact. This was actually the third time you met since your official separation half a year ago with the first two being the time he had to pack his stuff and move out completely. How did one interact with the person you were soon to be called ex-husband?

You were nervous and anxious, but also somehow happy to see him, because you hadn’t seen each other in three months. Jaehyun was still Jaehyun, he hadn’t changed. You wondered whether he was dating someone new now too, though.

“I actually requested time off this weekend when I knew Kang Kang would come,” he answered almost nonchalantly. “Do you want something to drink? I’m sorry, I only have water.”

You weren’t sure whether the water would help the lump that had built in your throat to disappear, so you declined. And just like that, Jaehyun had requested an entire weekend off when you had had begged him in the past to do so over and over again. You were hurt, once again, and it showed all over your face. 

“I’ve started a new job, actually,” he quickly explained, but you didn’t know whether it would make it all better, truth to be told. “Less salary, but since I’m living alone now, it’s fine. They still pay well enough and I have more time to myself.”

You deadpanned, “Good for you.”

It shouldn’t bother you anymore, it really shouldn’t. But you couldn’t shake off the fact that Jaehyun had changed his work and lifestyle almost so easily right after separating from you when he hadn’t been able to do exactly that while still with you. What had hindered him all this time?

Jaehyun, sensing already where this conversation would lead to since you had been there over and over again in the past, quickly changed the topic. “How is your grandma?” 

You unpacked Kang Kang’s stuff while he arranged the bed for him where he thought your dog would like it. 

“Quit playing, I know you visited her.”

He let out a shy laugh. “Did she tell you? I purposely told her not to.”

“She didn’t have to, really. I saw the flowers and knew immediately.”

You turned around to him, and even from the side, while he was kneeling down and petted Kang Kang, you perceived how shy he had gotten as his ears had turned slightly red. 

“I was worried about her since she hasn’t been feeling well these past months. So I wanted to check up on her. I didn’t want to break tradition, you know. Yet.”

“I know,” you admitted and quietly added, “Thank you for that.”

“I hope she’ll get better soon.”

He shifted in your direction and smiled, and this reaction made you longing for easier times where you didn't have to deal with the fact that this was the last time he had seen your grandmother.

Had you been too greedy, wanting too much that he hadn’t been willing to or couldn’t give yet? Had you pressured him too much and driven him away instead? Should you have been more patient with him and supported him, even though you hadn’t condoned any of his actions? Had it only been a rough patch and you would have come over it by now? 

Those were questions to which you would probably never get an answer. It was all too late now anyway. The papers were signed from your side.

“Jaehyun…” you whispered and wondered whether he had heard it as he suddenly interrupted you with,

“Ah, I’m sorry but you have to leave now.” He arose from the crouch and scratched the back of his head. “I actually have a visitor over the weekend and she’ll arrive soon.”

“She…?”

He nodded with a hint of reluctance.

You couldn’t explain why this revelation hurt almost just as much as the day Jaehyun had opened up about wanting a divorce. You were seeing someone else too, probably for longer than him, but you didn’t want him to be dating anyone else, giving her everything you had been asking of him for so long. 

You should be happy for him to have finally changed and wanting to make it better with the next woman he would grow to love. Yet, all you could think about was that he had never been able to give it to you.

You were so selfish.

“Okay,” you said breathlessly and grabbed your purse, moving to the entrance door. 

“Hey.” You heard footsteps, and before you could grab the handle, Jaehyun was already holding you back by your arm. “I’ve known you for too long to unsee the fact that you’re upset. And let me tell you, I understand why you’re angry.”

You lowered your head so that he couldn’t read your exact expression. But he didn’t need to. He never needed to. To him, you had always been an open book. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Jaehyun…”

“You’re probably asking yourself why I couldn’t change my job to have more time for you too. Just like I’m asking myself why you couldn’t have been more independent and wouldn’t rely on me only. We’ve both come quite a way, haven't we?”

You took credit for the not independent enough part. After all, since freshman year, you’ve only had Jaehyun. He had been the center of your life, of your universe, and this view had shifted into a toxic direction you never wanted to look into again. You truly had turned codependent at some point, you owed that part. 

All that was left to do was not letting these negative traits affect your new relationships. That was a promise you didn’t only need to make to yourselves, but to your new partner, too.

“Do you think… Do you think we could have reached this point too if we had stayed together? This is what we have wanted, right?”

After all, it didn’t matter anymore. But you really wanted to hear this opinion, whether he thought the same. 

He admitted, “I don’t think we could have evolved like that if we had stayed together.”

“I think so too.” You shrugged off his grip and pulled down the door handle. 

“If you ever need something… I’m always here, okay? Call me, text me, no matter how late, I don’t care. I will always be here for you.”

After all, he was still so good, fair and bright.

It was unfair that you couldn’t offer the same kindness in return. Envy never looked good on anyone.

You switched to a cold business-tone. “My lawyer told me you received the papers already.”

“I did yesterday. I’ll sign them this weekend and pass them on on Monday.”

“See you on Sunday then when I come to pick up Kang Kang.”

And then, you left without another word.

____

“I have a gig tonight, but don’t worry, we can drop off your things first and head right there,” Jaemin declared. “I already told them to start the soundcheck without me.”

“Gig?” Jaemin had picked you up with his car from the train station and you were currently on your way to his house. “I thought we were going to spend the whole weekend… you know, at your place.”

“We will, we will!” he repeated and put his hand on your thigh while the other was still holding onto the steering wheel. “Don’t worry about that. It’s only tonight. Besides… you’ll get to know all my friends and bandmates too, so that’s gonna be fun!”

You should actually be excited about getting involved with his life right off the bat, but you couldn’t help but to feel more anxious about meeting new people when all you wanted to do was to spend a cozy weekend at Jaemin’s place, just the two of you. You wanted to take your sweet time, learning about each other, and only each other, again.

Jaemin had always been an extrovert while you were the complete opposite, and in all these years, this fact hadn’t seemed to have changed at all - just like him always forgetting how hard it was for you to come out of your shell. But you decided that you weren’t going to be hurt over this and see it as a compliment to get introduced to his friends and lifestyle so short into the relationship.

Perhaps, this was also a sign for you to break out of your shell that had only hardened throughout the years you had spent with Jaehyun as he was very similar to you. You couldn’t always live that way and accepted Jaemin offering to show you a new lifestyle.

“I’m looking forward to it!” you exclaimed and shifted your head back to the street, swallowing your anxiety and just hoping it wouldn’t resurface.

____

But it did later that night when you stood by the bar in that very small club, the crowd dancing and singing along to tunes you had never heard before, and you suddenly felt so alone and lost. 

Back in the days, Jaemin had also been in a band, just one of many self-formed ones in school, but his band had always been the most popular, because, well, he himself was so popular. And even now, he was remaining true to his image, flirting with the crowd through his mimicry and gestic, radiating a charisma that would have all girls on their knees in front of him if only he asked.

Since he was with you now though, you felt proud and a bit haughty that he was still so popular and you had him all to yourself. But also, on the other hand, you were questioning if the negative feelings from your teen years would resurface…

The irritation when he hadn’t looked at you even once during his performances. The doubts when he had always winked at another girl during his solos. The jealousy when he had eventually talked to said girls after his performances, treating you like air.

But this Jaemin… he was different. Just when he finished and you viciously feared that it all would be repeated again, he passed by the entire crowd, not sparing his female fans even a single glance, and walked straight up to you.

“How was I?” he asked with a beam and you fell happily into his arms.

“Amazing!”

He laughed. “I’m so happy you liked it! Here, let me introduce you to my bandmates.”

So many new faces, but you were feeling welcomed from the very first moment on. There was no need to be anxious about feeling left out and to be nervous about nobody wanting to talk to you. You were having so much fun and everyone wanted to talk to you, wanting to know more about Jaemin’s girlfriend.

You hadn’t known he had already introduced you as such and felt very honored.

“Let’s have a toast!” Jaemin then raised up his shot.

“This will be our fourth toast!” a band member pointed out. “What do we still have to celebrate?”

You felt Jaemin’s strong arm around your shoulder, claiming you in front of all his friends and his entire band. “We’re celebrating her divorce. I’ve waited many years for her to separate from her husband, and now I can have her all to myself, for my entire life!”

You blushed at his loud confession. That didn’t seem like your Jaemin who you had known for so long at all. He had always been openly flirty and charming, but love confessions were never really his thing. Until now, apparently.

“So you want to marry her and spend the rest of her life with her?” someone teased. “What happened to Jaemin and when do we get him back?”

You quickly shook your head and waved aside. “Please, he’s only joking!”

“I’m quite offended you think I’m joking!” Jaemin objected and turned to you to make the conversation more private. “I mean it. We will spend the rest of our lives together. No matter where.”

This had suddenly turned into such an intimate moment, and all of his band mates sensed it which was why they pretended to be occupied with each other.

“You can’t say things like that so casually here!” you chided. “You’re probably drunk.”

“I’m actually quite sober and can think straight, and these thoughts currently always lead me to one desire: I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t care if you marry me or not, I just want you to always be with me. We will make it work. With your job, your dog, and your family. Even if it means I will have to come to you and live in the capital.”

“The Jaemin back then wouldn’t have uttered these words at all. He was always talking about going to America, getting famous with his music…”

“Well, I can still go to America. But with you. And one day, when you decide that you’re ready, even if we’re old and grey, we can get married.”

He then kissed you, and you dared to daydream just a little bit. In one possible future, you actually saw yourself watching your husband, Jaemin, standing on the stage of a big stadium in America while the crowd cheered, but he only had eyes for you who stood in the first row. 

One faraway possible future, you didn’t dare to venture in further, because in this one, you were still married and it would take so, so much time until you could actually think of accepting a proposal ever again.

Forgotten was the toast still, and you and Jaemin called it an early night. You were surprised, because back in the days, he would have partied until the sun went up, and longer.

“I want to spend the remaining time with you,” he only said and led you out of the venue by your hand.

Maybe, just like you and Jaehyun, Jaemin had evolved too - to the man you had always needed him to be.

____

The next morning, it had started snowing.

The blanket slipped from your naked shoulder when you arose, the mattress giving in under you as a result of you bracing your hands against the surface. Jaemin was still sleeping soundly next to you. Of course, because a brief look at your phone told you that it was only 7am on a saturday.

Yet, you didn’t want to miss this beautiful, quiet hour and slipped out of the bed. Throwing on Jaemin’s t-shirt from the night before, you walked to the big window that offered a panoramic view of the landscape. 

There were only a handful of high rise buildings in his city and no skyscrapers were seen far and wide. The horizon was a bit cloudy, but the beautiful landscape was still recognizable through the falling snow. 

You had been to Jaemin’s hometown only once when you were together as teenagers. He had been sent to Seoul to attend a better school and eventually university, but had moved back after his degree.

You loved it here, it was the entire opposite of the bustling and ever lively capital. But living here, you wondered, would you get bored eventually? It was quite the contrary to your personality, but you had always enjoyed your environment being fast and never sleeping while you stood still. It gave you the feeling of never being alone while actually being alone.

A kiss on the back of your neck let you shudder, but in a good way. You giggled and turned around to Jaemin who had his arms wrapped around you now. His muscles were well-built and tense in your grip.

“Look Jaemin, it’s snowing!” you pointed out. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Mhhmm,” he muttered, but he didn’t look. “I know a more beautiful view, and it’s also in front of me.”

His voice sounded so sexy when he had just woken up. He embraced you tighter and kissed your temple. “You’re so charming as always.”

Jaemin chuckled. “Why are you up so early already?” he then asked you and gently rocked you in his arms. “You can still sleep.”

“I know, it’s just…” You shrugged. “I want to spend as much time with you here as possible.”

“Oh, does that mean I have to get up now too?” he seemingly wailed. “But what if I don’t want to get out of bed yet? Is there something we can do in bed together?” 

You didn’t need to be told twice, but let yourself get carried, with both of your legs hooked around his waist, back to the bed. Letting out a laugh, Jaemin threw you onto the mattress and then crawled on top of you. He was still naked from last night, his muscles flexing nicely in the dim morning light.

You stretched out your arms and placed them around his neck. Gently, you pulled him close to you so that your nose tips touched, and smiled. You wanted to stop time right here and now, and bathe in this intimate moment for a while longer.

Jaemin didn’t know the words ‘enjoy’ and ‘patience’ though as not much later, sweat droplets started to collect on his chest, making his skin glisten with every shift that he performed on top of you. Your breathing came in hitches and caught every time he pushed himself deeper into you.

“You like that?” he whispered into your ear, causing goose bumps to spread all along your neck.

“I lot…” A gasp passed your lips when his wet tongue licked your earlobe.

It had slipped your mind when you had last felt this deeply satisfied. What Jaemin was doing right now even topped the events from last night when you had returned to his apartment, even though you had thought that it was impossible to top that.

You stretched out your legs and placed them around Jaemin’s waist, pushing your hips up. 

“Hm?” He raised his head and locked eyes with you, revealing a sneaky smile that was accompanied by a cocked brow to emphasize his feigned surprise. “What’s that? You’re impatient already?”

“It’s you,” you said. “I just can’t get enough.”

Jaemin lowered his head again and started sucking on the side of your neck. You were sure you would be able to see a few faint bruises later on, but it was the time to wear scarves anyway and you wanted him to mark you in every way possible. 

Your fingers entangled in his soft hair that then slipped through the gaps between them, and after a few bypassing moments of absolute stillness from his side where you slowly grew even more impatient, Jaemin started to move inside of you again. 

When you were a teenager, you had lost your virginity to Jaemin after a few months of dating. He hadn’t been as insecure, nervous and awkward as you, because of course, the most popular boy from the band had already gained experience. And it seemed like he hadn’t lacked keeping to do so.

Or how else did he know to slip out with only the tip remaining so that you could quickly catch your breath, just to thrust back inside you with full force again? You couldn’t help but scream every time he penetrated that sweet spot, and he made sure to hit with every single motion.

The sheets grew wet under you as you were sweating so much, and in the peripheral of your blurry vision, you noticed that it had turned a bit lighter already in the apartment. God, for how long had this been going on, and how much more could you take?

You were already calling out, “Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin!”, mixed with dry screams that only grew more hoarsely, but you couldn’t seem to reach the anticipated release. Whenever you faced him, you only encountered his wicked, charming grin, and were assured that release was nowhere near yet.

Time and space blurred together for you and your mouth hung open, longing for air as he ripped you off it with his thrusts, again and again. The neverending string of a nearing orgasm was always graspable, but remained out of reach as each time, Jaemin took a brief pause by halting his motions and never pulling out entirely. 

“Please…”

You didn’t know why he was doing that or where he had even learned to be this skilful to drag it out for so long, and truth to be told, you also didn’t want to know. At this point, you were only worried that he was punishing you on purpose, for dumping him back in the days, and for letting him wait for so long. Fair enough, you accepted this kind of punishment over anything else. 

Jaemin drew his face close and licked over your dry lips. “I want to hear you beg.”

You didn’t care anymore at this point. You pressed him close to you, drawing your thighs even tighter around him. “Please, Jaemin!”

“Louder.” A low growl into your ear. But eventually, you felt him moving again.

“Please, Jaemin. PLEASE!”

“Louder!” he summoned.

“JAEMIN, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, I BEG YOU, PLEASE!”

The next moment, it felt like a wave came crashing down over you after trying to swim away from it all this time. It only took Jaemin two more skilled thrusts at the right angle until you let out a long-lasting scream that was on the brink of waking all the neighbors up, but you didn’t care.

You felt your insides clenching around him, your legs shaking in the aftermath while your fingers simultaneously dig deep into his skin as though you were holding onto a lifeline, nails grazing along his back and leaving long marks that would also be visible for quite a time.

Jaemin followed almost directly after you. He was gracious and quiet about it, but you knew him well enough to see that he was still enjoying it a little too much as he revealed himself by a low whimper that he tried to hide in the side of your neck, followed by a long sigh. His arms were shaking as he lost all strength and limply fell on top of you.

Your fingers were still on the back of his head, slowly stroking and comforting him while he was coming down from his heights. Your sweaty chest heaved up and down with Jaemin’s head on top of it.

For a moment, it was silent, only your regular breathing rhythms audible. 

In that moment, you wondered when you had last felt this happy.

____

“Are you with Jaemin this weekend?” 

Jaehyun’s anger was palpable through the phone. You moved away from the queue, signaling Jaemin that you had to take this call while he was lining up to buy you octopus skewers.

“Uh… I-”

Your still-husband had caught you red-handed and you didn’t know what to answer, because you hadn’t been prepared for this kind of situation. Only now, you realized that it would have been better to not have picked up the call at all when you had seen his name popping up on the display - ‘hubby’ and a heart. You still hadn’t brought yourself to change it to his government name.

“Answer me,” he demanded when your stuttering slowly grew uncomfortable and you settled for a quiet corner to talk to him.

“Jaehyun…”

“Someone sent me a video of his stories from last night and you were in it. I should have known the first thing you’d do would be running to him.”

How was that possible? You didn’t have mutual friends anymore from back then who would have cared enough as all contact had started to dwindle down at some point. And as far as you knew, these two had each other blocked everywhere. Unless they didn’t anymore and Jaehyun was lying to cover up that he had been digging.

“Jaehyun, that’s not fair at all.”

You heard a snort, followed by dead silence, but he didn’t hang up. “When did you want to tell me you were spending the weekend with my best friend?”

Dead silence again, but this time from your side of the line. Eventually, you reproached, “You haven’t been best friends for four years.”

“You told me you weren’t in contact anymore since he tried to creep back into your life even shortly after our marriage and I had to nearly physically fight him when he suddenly stood in front of our door.”

“We weren’t in contact!” you defended yourself. “But he had gotten wind of our separation and then hit me up again. Initially, it was just small talk, how I was doing and dealing with the situation. This is only the third time we've seen each other ever since. I really wasn’t in contact with him all this time, Jaehyun.”

“You never blocked his number or his socials as you had promised or otherwise, how could he have reached you?”

“I did! I told you I did, and I immediately did so back then! He contacted me from another number as he had changed his phone contract. I’ve never lied to you throughout our entire marriage! Don’t doubt me now just for me to fit your narrative, Jaehyun.”

“Hm.” He always let out this sound when he was at a loss for words, but didn’t want to drop the topic just yet. “I see.”

Somewhere in the background you heard Kang Kang and suddenly felt so guilty. Yet, you shrugged it off. You were too happy to get dragged down by his double standards right now. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth about why I wanted to go to Jeonju. But honestly, Jaehyun, you also have a female over this weekend, don’t you?”

“I told you straight-forwardly. Also, she’s not an ex or your best friend, and certainly not my first love.”

He was right. The way you had handled this situation was certainly not pretty or fair at all. Why hadn’t you told him the moment you asked him to take care of Kang Kang? 

Perhaps, because Jaemin had always been a threat to your relationship, long before your marriage and after it too. And it had always been your fault, even though you had complied with Jaehyun's requests about blocking and deleting him.

Somehow though, whenever Jaemin wanted to find you, he always did. And he was lucky to now have found you at a time where you had wanted to be found as well.

“Jaehyun…”

He let out a long breather and you imagined him shaking his head at this very moment. “I’m sorry, I don’t even know why I’m calling. I just thought… It’s not even my right anymore to know who you’re with and what you’re doing, but… really, him out of all people?”

“Jaehyun…”

He hadn’t been in Jaemin’s band, but in the same class. You had always seen him around, but never interacted as you had rarely hung out with Jaemin’s friends. He hadn’t wanted that. And when you had finally had enough of his shenanigans after suffering in your on-off relationship for two years, you moved on in university - with your ex’s best friend who had happened to be the complete opposite, and everything you’d ever asked for.

In the beginning, you had tried to keep it a secret, but eventually came clean with Jaemin after a few months, who had reacted in a very mature way. Or so you had thought. You didn’t want to be friends with him as you rarely saw him anyway, but you let them be friends. Eventually, you warmed up to this new dynamic as Jaemin had once been a huge part of your life too. Nothing had seemed weird at first and Jaemin seemingly was okay with it. 

Until it all went downhill.

“Do you remember the day you told him we were engaged?” Jaehyun then asked.

Of course you remembered. Jaemin hadn’t let his true emotions slip, he hadn’t thrown a tantrum, he hadn’t said anything more than,

“Good luck. But you won’t be married for too long, because she’ll be mine again.”

And ever since then, best friends Jaehyun and Jaemin had never spoken a word to each other again.

It was eerie and sad how this prediction had eventually turned out to be true.

“I chose you, because you are kind, dedicated and warm, Jaehyun. Jaemin was fickle, unreliable and unfaithful, yes, but we were almost still kids! He’s changed.”

“That’s what you also said when I was in the army and he tried to test the waters with you again. That he’s changed, when you went back to him shortly. And look how that ended.”

“Are you bringing this up again? We were never involved in that sense again! You were in the boot camp and could only text me for one hour on the weekend, I felt lonely and we wanted to meet up as friends! I was young and stupid, how many times do you still want to hear it?”

“... And he never turned up.”

You bit into your lower lip. If you didn’t know it better, Jaehyun was hurt and jealous. But there was seriously no room for him to feel this way anymore. You were separated and it was only a matter of days until it was official. You didn’t even need to talk to him right now, but somehow, you also couldn’t bring yourself to just hang up.

“This time, he did turn up. Among many other things.” 

Only then did you realize that tears were pricking behind your eyes. In your peripheral, you could watch Jaemin ordering the skewers already, he was not supposed to see you cry.

“And you know that from a day of spending with him?”

“You know, I don’t have to justify myself in front of you, Jaehyun.”

‘If you still love me, then say it out loud!’ that was what you wanted to tell him. You wanted to grab him by his shoulders, shake him and ask him why he hadn’t told you so earlier. Why Jaemin had to come in between you again for him to finally open his mouth. 

At the other side of the line, it had suddenly turned quiet. 

“Are you sure about it?” you whispered into your phone. “About the divorce.”

“What is this about?” Jaehyun almost seemed angry now. “We’ve talked about it over and over again. This is for the best.”

“Then stop bothering me!”

Finally, you hung up and took a deep breather. Wiping a tear from your cheek with the back of your hand, you turned your head against the sky. It was still snowing, and the flakes melted immediately on your hot cheeks.

“Everything alright?” Jaemin asked when he had reached you. “Did something happen?”

You shook your head and accepted the skewer he was holding out to you. “No, nothing. Let’s go.”

____

Jaemin rolled his head back, his mouth falling agape.

“Yes, just like that.”

You felt his fingertips grazing over the back of your head, and then, with a firm tug, he had your hair between his fingers, tightly pulling on it. You swallowed a pained squeal, but the discomfort passed quickly as you realized it even added up to the sensation of sucking Jaemin off.

You let it slip past your mouth, only trapping the upper part between your lips, and then halted. With the tip of your tongue, you pressed down into the slit where you already tasted his sticky precum. You smiled when you heard him groan.

This time though, Jaemin didn’t let you get away with teasing him so easily. He pushed your head down his length, and as you didn’t have time to prepare yourself for this sudden action, you almost choked at him hitting the back of your throat. 

You weren’t trained in deep throating at all, the only time you had tried, you had wanted to gag so badly. Even now, it wasn’t really a cakewalk for you to suppress the reflex. But as you turned your gaze up and caught Jaemin stretched out gloriously on the couch, enjoying it with angelic moans, you gladly complied, no matter the circumstances.

Jaemin set the rhythm with his fingers still entwined in your hair. He pulled on your strands and lifted your head up his length just to slam you all the way down again until you nearly met his pelvis with your lips. It took you three tries to get rid of the gag reflex and another two to adjust to this submissive act.

“Now, suck it.”

You happily did so as it meant having a break from the excessive motions earlier, and only dedicated yourself to the upper half, sucking him off like a lollipop. You also used your tongue with which you teased him again by letting it glide over the smoothest part, just passing the frenulum. The sound he let out as a result was the loudest you had ever heard pass his lips during an intimate act.

“What was that?” he asked almost breathlessly, and looked down at you.

“You like it?” you wanted to know shyly.

“I love it!” he exclaimed and laughed. “Do it again!”

You felt Jaemin releasing himself into your mouth without a warning not much later, though you felt it pumping past your circled lips. Patiently, you waited until he was done and only let him slip out of your mouth then, falling back into a crouch and wiping over your stained mouth.

With a smirk, Jaemin patted the top of your head, then dropped his hand and angled your chin with his index finger. You faced each other, and you observed his expression changing.

“Now, your turn?” he asked with a bit of danger in his voice.

You swallowed, but didn’t hold him back. You were in for a wild ride.

That was until Jaemin’s phone rang and he needed to interrupt your act. You wanted him to ignore it, but he had already told you beforehand that he was expecting an important call. Just talk about timing…

You wondered what it could be about when you arose after Jaemin had left the room to go to another and take the call. It was kind of a long conversation as you only remembered how you went on to lie in bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone and losing track of time. The next moment, when Jaemin came out again, it was already dark.

You were standing by the window now, the snow still hadn’t stopped falling. As a matter of fact, it was snowing even harder, and you wondered whether by tomorrow morning, the snow would have put a white blanket over the whole country.

“What happened?” you asked, unsure what to read out of Jaemin’s undefined expression.

That was until he broke out into a beam, closed the short distance between you and swept you off your feet. He had his hands placed under your ribs and swung you around with your feet dangling above the floor. 

You laughed and asked, after he had placed you down again, “Will you tell me what happened now?”

“Great news!” Jaemin declared with your hands remaining in his. “That was a producer who’s called me. I’ve been sending demos to different companies for years now, and finally this one is interested in my music! The producer wants to meet me tomorrow, isn’t it great?!”

“Oh, Jaemin! That’s amazing to hear!”

“I know, right?I have to prepare a few things for tomorrow since I have to drive to Gwangju where the company is located, do you mind?” He suddenly drew his brows together and looked very concerned. “I know we had dinner plans, but…”

You immediately shook your head. Of course, disappointment sank into your stomach as you had especially looked forward to this fancy dinner with him. It was your last night together as you were supposed to go home the next day, but another part, a bigger part, didn’t want to be so selfish. She knew that music had always been Jaemin’s dream, and if he could make it his main occupation, who were you to stop him?

“I’m gonna make up for it!” he immediately apologized, led your hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “Tomorrow, fancy brunch or lunch before you leave?”

You nodded, very well aware of the fact that knowing Jaemin for the passionate man that he was, neither brunch or lunch would take place tomorrow. Somehow, it was all high school again, but you were more mature now and there was no room for your own, selfish needs.

Jaemin let go of you and dedicated himself to his music station where he gathered together a few documents. “Imagine,” he then summoned, “if it’s really going to work out and I am really going to be big with my band, we could play so many shows or even do a tour - maybe internationally too! And I would take you with me of course! To America!”

“Jaemin, I have a dog to take care of and a job I’m really dedicated to, you know that. I cannot be on the road for months.” Had he forgotten the words from last night where he had offered to move to the capital for you? Had your wants been overshadowed by his daydreams once again like back in the days?

“Oh yeah…” He scratched the back of his head, but then beamed again. “Don’t worry, we’ll find a solution!”

Again, he was proposing something so far off into the future without asking what you wanted. Aside from the fact that you liked living a domestic life with a stable job and a routine, you didn’t want to be separated from your dog. Or your family, especially your grandmother yet.

And that was what Jaemin didn’t get… again. Just like the fact that you couldn’t think of another marriage already when you were still with one foot inside your current one.

He was impulsive, dreamy and so demanding. But this was what you had wanted, right? Someone to take things into his own hands and consider you in his future, whether you fit in or not.

“Yes, we’ll find a solution,” you eventually replied as he was expecting an answer. And who knew, perhaps you would really find one.

Jaemin turned back to this work and rambled on about how great of a life you two would have together.

Would you, though?

Your current life as it was, was already perfect for you. Just the man in it hadn’t been.

____

With shaking hands, you swiped over your phone screen until, from your blurry vision, you finally saw your husband’s name pop up. Hubby and a heart next to it. You still hadn’t changed it, and for now, you were glad for that as it had made finding his contact easier.

It was only 7am on a sunday, but you knew Jaehyun would pick up no matter how early or late, no matter what, regardless of your dispute from the day before. He had promised.

“Grandmother is in the hospital,” you cried into the phone the moment the ringing stopped. “And I- I can’t go back. I-I don’t have a car and I’m in J-Jeonju, the trains are not running because of the heavy snowfall and I don’t know how to get back, how to get to my grandmother. Jaehyun… C-can you-”

It was rustling on the other line and from your peripheral, you could see Jaemin watching you with a displeased face. 

No questions asked. Jaehyun’s voice was still so deep and raspy as you had just woken him up, but his head was as clear as ever. “Send me the address, I’ll take the car and come pick you up.”

“Th-there is snow everywhere! It’ll probably take hours.”

He didn’t ask why Jaemin wouldn’t drive you or why Jaehyun himself should do this even though you were separated. At this moment, none of this mattered except the fact that he needed to bring you to your grandmother. 

“I don’t care.” There was some noise on his end of the line, and you could have sworn you also heard a female whispering something, but none of this mattered. “I’ll get going now and will text you the estimated arrival time.”

He didn’t care about the weather, the amounts of snow blocking the streets, whether he would even get through the traffic, none of this mattered.

“Thank you,” you whispered through your sobs.

It was like he still wanted to say something, but only brought himself to end the call with, “See you.”

Jaemin waited for you to finish typing the address for Jaehyun first before he spoke up. “I wish I could change things.”

“You can!” you yelled at him, having suppressed your anger for an hour already.

At 6am, you had been unexpectedly awakened by a call from your mother that held unfortunate news you never wished upon anyone to ever receive: Your grandmother was in the hospital as she had fallen in the bathroom that night and had been unconscious for a few hours before she could call anyone for help.

And Jaemin’s reaction? 

He fell into silence again.

“You can change things, but you don’t want to,” you repeated through tears and fled out of the bed as you couldn’t physically bear being close to him anymore.

“That’s not it…” His feeble attempts to defend himself were all to no avail as expected. “It’s just a once in a lifetime chance, if I need to cancel, I might not be able to…”

“My grandmother can also live just this lifetime! I only have her for one lifetime,” you hissed, not sparing him a single glance as you started to throw your belongings into your bag. “She’s fighting for her life in the hospital and you think your music appointment is more important than driving me there? It’s only in the evening, and you’re worried you won’t make it back to your appointment on time, because of the snow?”

“We called your parents and the hospital already.” His voice got louder, more determined now, though it was nothing compared to yours. “She’s fine. You can probably take the train by midday, maybe even forenoon, anyway. I’m just being realistic.”

“You just don’t get it, don’t you? Probably because no one has ever been this important to you.”

The moment you had spoken the words out loud, you already regretted it, but an apology refused to pass your lips as Jaemin only said,

“You are this important to me.”

“I don’t believe you as you cannot even do this for me.”

His music was more important, his career and everything connected to it. It would always, always come first, and this was something that was never going to change, and had never changed, you saw it clearly now. 

Your relationship in your adulthood was merely a projection of what it had already been in high school.

Nothing had changed.

____

Jaehyun picked you up from a nearby café four hours later. 

You had directly left Jaemin’s apartment the moment you had gathered all your belongings and hadn’t looked back - neither had he. He hadn’t changed his mind about the situation and he hadn’t tried to hold you back, no matter how much you had wished for it. 

You were standing in front of the café, still in your joggers and with tousled hair, freezing to your bones as the snow touched your naked ankles, but at least Jaehyun was here, regardless of the weather, his appointments and the time.

He was here.

He had always been here. 

You had just been too blind to see it.

The moment he opened the car door at your side, you broke out into tears again, unable to move, and it caused him to actually get out of the car himself to then approach you. 

Suddenly, it got so warm around you despite the weather, and even with your teary eyes closed you realized that Jaehyun had pulled you into an embrace. With his slender fingers, he brushed over the back of your head in a comforting gesture as you sobbed into his jacket.

“Your grandmother will be fine,” he whispered into your hair, unaware of the fact that you were currently not crying over your grandmother anymore, but over the fact that he was here regardless of how ridiculous it might sound.

He had made it through the snow chaos and traffic just to bring you home safely. If this wasn’t what your marriage vows had been about, then what was? Was that what your grandmother had been talking about?

You had two hours to think about it as you made your way back to the capital. There were many things you wanted to ask Jaehyun. How serious it was with that woman, if she was mad he had suddenly left her for his soon-to-be ex-wife and if he himself was mad that he was here now. But first and foremost…

“Why did you come?”

“I told you, you could always call me. No matter how late… or early in this case, I’ll always be there. Despite that, I care about your grandmother and your entire family, too. For a large part of my life, they were also my family.”

“They will always be, Jaehyun.”

“I know.”

His gaze was too focused on the street ahead of you as though it was taking him everything in his might to just keep his eyes averted from you. The majority of the snow had been cleared from the streets already so that cars could drive without many obstacles again. 

“Are you sure about it?” you repeated from your disrupted phone call the day before. “Are you sure about the divorce?”

“Why does it matter?” he asked back strictly. “Haven’t you moved on with my former best friend already, this time for good, because he’s changed so much?”

“That’s not an answer, Jaehyun.”

You had no reason to feel so attacked, but it still hurt, because he was wrong, even though Jaehyun didn’t know it yet. Jaemin hadn’t changed at all, and you were too proud to admit it. Perhaps though, you had overreacted as well. Perhaps, everything would have gone so well if only you had been calmer and more rational, and had actually listened to Jaemin. Perhaps, you had done Jaemin so wrong. 

But Jaehyun was now in the car, driving you back home, and not Jaemin, right? Jaehyun was here, and not Jaemin.

“On the way to Jeonju,” he started, “I had a few hours to think about everything. Have we given it all? Was a divorce really our last solution? What could I have done differently, what could you have differently for us to avoid this outcome. And I just… couldn’t come up with an answer. 

“Which means, on the contrary, perhaps a divorce was not a solution either,” you concluded. “But we’ve lived in separation for half a year at that point, Jaehyun. And we were fine with it. We’ve had many talks, so why are we here, ripping open this wound again? What’s the purpose? I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that it only took one weekend for us to doubt this decision.”

“Perhaps, there is none,” he said, and shrugged. “Perhaps, it’s all about what makes us happy, after all. And finding out you lied to me and spent the weekend with him, didn’t make me happy at all.”

Now that he was so honest with you, you could be honest with him too. “I also wasn’t happy when you told me you would get a female visitor this weekend.”

A long pause followed the conversation before you confessed,

“But you picking up the phone and being here with me now, makes me really happy.”

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly, “I’m also happy you called me and didn’t rely on him.”

He didn’t ask what exactly had happened with Jaemin, and you also didn’t ask him about the other woman when you arrived at his empty home much later that day to pick up your dog after having visited your grandmother together first. 

She didn’t get hurt except for a bruise by her hip and would be fine after being taken care of in the hospital for a few days. You visited her every day for one week straight, but on neither of these days did you see Jaehyun or Jaemin.

The fact that you were disappointed would be an understatement, but you were too caught up with everything going on at this point that you couldn't waste too many unnecessary thoughts in their behaviors.

____

A week later, you and your mother returned home with your grandma. Despite her refusing your offer, you had still insisted on taking one week off from work and living with her, just in case something could happen again and until she regained her health. 

Nevertheless, you as a family had all agreed on hiring a caretaker that would look after her half a day and who would start right after your week off with her. After a few attempted protests from your grandma’s side though, she had eventually given in as well.

“Where’s all the food I requested?” you asked in astonishment as you opened shelf after shelf in your grandmother’s kitchen, but each of them you found empty. “Didn’t father and uncle do grocery shopping? I made an entire list for them and they knew she’d return today.”

“Oh, they were busy last night,” your mother explained after she had taken your grandmother to her bedroom. “They’ll do it later today.”

You rolled your eyes as you tried to fight the wave of reproach against your family. “Busy with watching football all night long probably. What did they think would happen when we came back home with grandmother? There are no ingredients to make food for her and when I looked into the bathroom, she had also run out of toilet paper. What were they thin-”

“Honey…” Your mom placed her hands on your shoulders to calm you down, but somehow, her not getting as heated up as you was making you even more disappointed. Were you the only one who cared? “Please be reassured that everything is going to be fine.”

“How?” you asked back, a tinge of anger in your voice. “We come back and the sheets are not washed, we have nothing we can make food of for her and we cannot even-”

Your mom exhaled deeply as she tried to convince you again, “Let’s just order the most important necessities online, okay? Then your father and uncle will bring the rest later today, it’s really not a big deal.”

“Sweetheart, will you come here, please?” you heard your grandmother suddenly disrupt your conversation. 

You let out a long sigh, threw another glare at your mom and then left for the bedroom.

“I’m sorry, grandma,” you apologized as you popped into her bedroom with your head first. “I will go to the store right now to bring you the necessities. You don’t need to worry about this, please relax.”

“I do not worry about this,” she reassured you. “I feel so fine here. And you do not need to worry that much either, it’s all going to be fine.”

“No,” you cried out and shook your head, tears welling up on the brim of your eyes. All your feelings came crashing down on you at once, feelings that you had tried to push aside for an entire week. “Nothing is ever going to be fine again!”

You sat down by her bedside and dropped your head. Her soft, warm hand found your fingers and gave them a comforting squeeze. “Is this about your husband?”

“Yes,” you admitted, and ‘no’ you wanted to say simultaneously as this wasn’t about your husband alone. Perhaps, now ex-husband on official papers even. “Why did he never show up again after going to the hospital with me the first day? I thought… he still cared, not only about me, but about you too. I’m so disappointed. I thought he was different.”

The last sentence was dedicated to both of them, though you confessed silently to yourself that you had never expected this from Jaehyun, out of the two. 

“But dear… he did come.”

You lifted your head and wiped away a tear that had dangled on the corner of your eye as you faced your grandmother with much surprise. “What are you saying, grandma?”

“He came every single day in the morning before work, we talked for half an hour when I was awake. I thought you knew?”

You had no idea, and looking at your grandma now, who was grinning widely and also a bit sneakily, made you assume that perhaps, she had kept it a secret on purpose - because the effect, when you found out, would be so much more impactful.

And it was.

“Grandma, I had no idea…”

“That’s why I asked you, before you decided to separate, did you really give it your all and tried everything possible to fix your marriage before moving on? Because, as far as I can see, you’re not the only one not ready to do so entirely.”

“I… I can’t say. I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter anymore, grandma,” you eventually said. “Even if we both wanted it, it’s too late. He has probably already signed the papers and sent them out.”

“Fine. But don’t forget my words. If, at some point in your life, you realize that you have made the wrong decision, don’t hesitate for a single second and tell him.” She leaned back into the pillows. “It’s almost afternoon, I want to sleep. Can you close the door behind you then, dear?”

“Of course.” You gave her a kiss on the forehead and quietly walked out of her room.

Back in the kitchen, you saw your mom sitting at the table, scrolling through her phone. Why was she not up and about yet to do some grocery shopping or at least call your father to do the trip? You were fed up by now, fueled by your grandmother’s words too.

“Mom, I’m going to the store and I’ll take your car.”

“Okay.”

That was it. You knew she had had a lot on her plate too, but why did everyone not take this situation seriously enough? 

When you put on your jacket as it was freezing outside, you wondered whether you were overreacting and just putting all your time and energy into this situation, moving here and taking care of things, just so you didn’t need to think about how your own life was falling apart. As long as you could take care of someone else, you didn’t need to face your own problems. Hadn’t this been the root of your downfall as well?

After all, when you returned home after this week, you would get a call from your lawyer to confirm that the divorce was through. You had specifically requested for him not to call while you were here.

What then, after that? Then, you were a divorced woman, and you weren’t ready to settle with this term yet.

“Careful!”

You nearly ran into a tall figure when you opened the entrance door. A familiar scent touched your nose, strong hands holding you by your arms so that you could keep your balance after the impact. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked Jaehyun as your gaze simultaneously scanned his appearance, and you spotted two big bags of groceries to either of his sides on the floor. 

“I thought since your grandmother would come home today, you would need a helping hand,” he stated and pointed at the grocery bags. You saw toilet paper, rice, water, and other necessities peeking out. “I didn’t know what to buy, so I just brought a bit of everything. Is that… okay?”

You couldn’t help yourself but fell into his arms, hot tears streaming down your cheeks. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulder, and suddenly, this entire situation didn’t seem so difficult and hopeless anymore.

You had felt so left alone, like you had overreacted and that your feelings weren’t valid. But now your husband was here, having shown up in ways nobody else was. Your feelings were valid, they had always been to him.

Perhaps, your grandmother had been right all along. 

No, you hadn’t tried everything possible, because this clearance came way too late now, and you couldn’t apologize anymore for sometimes being a selfish, spoiled brat that had demanded much more from her husband than he was able to give. And always, you had wanted more and more.

Your views on life and the way you wanted to live it had started to take separate roads and you had thought this was not fixable anymore, but was that really what mattered after all?

It wasn’t about who was there for you all the time. Your problems couldn’t have been solved in that way either. That was why it couldn’t have worked out with Jaemin too. It wasn’t about this at all.

It was about who showed up during the times you truly needed someone. And it was always Jaehyun. When you needed support, a helping hand or someone to call during an emergency, he had always been there.

If you needed someone at all times, it could be anyone. But if you needed someone when times were hard, it was Jaehyun.

It had always been Jaehyun. 

“Your grandma is going to be fine,” Jaehyun whispered and gently patted the back of your head.

But you weren’t crying over your grandmother anymore, but about your failed marriage.

Because yes, you regretted it deeply and had not given it your all.

Because now, it was too late.

Neither of you spoke about the divorce papers that day.

____

Jaehyun didn’t come over anymore and neither did you reach out to him during the week you lived with your grandmother. 

You were determined to make it on your own from then on. Very soon, you were an official divorcée and single dog mom, so it was better to start early with this new lifestyle. Knowing you too well, Jaehyun might have already sensed it as he was leaving you completely alone during that time.

You brought Kang Kang with you to live and thus your days started with walking your dog before helping your grandmother get ready and preparing breakfast that you eventually ate together just like the other meals. Even though your grandmother was still able to do most things by herself, you noticed how slower, shakier and sometimes disoriented she had become. 

Time was not stopping, for nobody.

During the day you were occupied with doing chores, taking care of paperwork as well as your grandmother and Kang Kang. At the end of each day, you fell into your bed, absolutely exhausted and tired. Your mind was always occupied as well and there was no space for other things except for those brief moments during nighttime when you were alone and neither busy in a physical way or in your mind.

Then, you stared at the ceiling and wept.

Because you missed Jaehyun so badly and wished for him to be with you. You would have done anything for him to be here right now, but your marriage was over and you needed to move on without him. 

Everyday with this realization was hard, but luckily, no day grew harder than the day before. Eventually, they would only grow brighter.

That was your silver lining. 

____

Realizing that you wanted to be with Jaehyun after all, meant in retrospect that you couldn’t be with Jaemin. And just because you couldn’t be with Jaehyun, didn’t mean you should be with Jaemin. That was not how it worked, unfortunately.

“Hey, it’s me,” you spoke on the phone, watching the skyline from your window the first night you had returned to your home. 

He had promised to always pick up when you called, but this time, he hadn’t. You were struggling to come to terms with the fact that he indeed didn’t want to be reached by you either this time. Perhaps, not anymore at all.

You remembered why you had married Jaehyun.

You had married him, because he took care of the people he loved, because he made things seem more bearable when they weren’t and because when he said he would pick up whenever you called, he actually did. That was not a void Jaemin could just fill.

You would always search for a Jaehyun in his eyes, and that was not fair, because he was not. He was Jaemin, an entirely different person. And there was a person out there that would be perfect for him, too.

“I just wanted to tell you that this is the last time you will ever hear from me.” Softly, Kang Kang was snoring in the corner, filling the pause that then followed.

Maturing was realizing that just because you wanted to be with someone, you shouldn’t be with them. Maturing was realizing that only because you didn’t want to be alone, you should be with someone. Maturing was realizing that even on the third try, some people still weren’t meant to be together.

Tears sprang from your eyes, but your voice gave no hint of it. “Truth to be told, I am very disappointed that you never showed up again… called me, or at least sent a message, asked me how we are. It was a very hard time for me and you just… weren’t there.”

But someone else had been. You dried your cheeks with the back of your hand. 

“Yes, I could have messaged or called you too… but why should I have when I was the one suffering? Admittedly, I also didn’t need to. I handled it all myself very well. That made me realize… I wanted this, Jaemin. I wanted this so much, with you. But I didn’t need it. I don’t need you. And the past weeks made me realize that you feel the same. You don’t need me either.”

You could live without Jaehyun and you could live without Jaemin, you just had to be strong enough to make it on your own now that you had neither. 

And you would make it on your own. 

You had the drive, passion and strength all within you, you just had failed to notice for so long. After all, you had been able to take care of your grandmother, dog and everyone around you for the past weeks. So taking care of yourself wouldn’t be harder than that.

Had you broken down and experienced weak moments? Yes, several times. But that had only made you stronger.

“I’m strong and not afraid, I will always make it on my own. And you will make it too. Go out into the world, perhaps even travel to America where you always wanted to go, make your dream about music come true… I wish for you to achieve everything you’ve ever wanted, with my whole heart.” You swallowed hard and added, “It’s just not going to be with me. I don’t know where my place is yet, but it’s not by your side.”

For now, your best companion was yourself. And your dog. And actually, that was enough.

You finished speaking on the mailbox with, “Goodbye, Jaemin.”

You didn’t hesitate to delete his number and block him all across social media. This time, for good.

The fact that you cried yourself to sleep that night would be your own little secret to keep, but it would also be the very last time you would find yourself in a position to cry over Jaemin, ever.

The next morning, you felt free. The air was clear and crisp. It was cloudy, but not snowing. Thank god.

____

“I apologize for having to tell you this, but Mr. Jeong hasn’t signed the divorce papers.”

“Pardon me?” 

It had been a dreadful feeling to take the call from your lawyer the next morning. The more surprised you were about the actual message he had just passed down to you. Your breath caught.

“His lawyer told me he refuses to sign them and sent them back to me unsigned, that’s why I couldn’t send them to you yet.”

You frowned as you suddenly turned utterly confused. “But why? What did he say? Is there something he still wants to negotiate over?”

“They didn’t tell me, just that he refuses to sign them. I’ll resolve this for you, be at ease.”

“Don’t,” you held him back. “I’ll do it myself.”

“You’re not allow-”

But you had already hung up and were halfway out of the door, he didn’t even come to end his sentence.

____

Not even an hour later, you were standing in front of Jaehyun’s apartment door, ringing the bell like a maniac. He looked at you like he had expected you already as you stood in front of him with your arms folded in front of your chest.

“Took you long enough.”

“Care to explain to me why you sent the documents back unsigned?”

“Come inside,” he invited you calmly.

Your eyes narrowed. “Your girlfriend doesn't mind?”

“We haven’t seen each other since that weekend… and I rather want it to stay this way.”

Your heart jumped. That basically meant they weren’t together anymore, you concluded as you followed him into his apartment and took your shoes off in the corridor. 

“What about Jaemin?” 

“Same.”

It seemed that you both didn’t want to talk about your past lovers, and even though you were curious, if he had to elaborate, then you needed to as well, and there was no way you would ever want to live through the past weeks again.

“I was thinking about our conversation in the car back from Jeonju,” he began as he shifted around to face you the moment you arrived in the living room, “about what makes me happy. When we were separated, we didn’t see each other, and I was happy living a life I haven’t gotten a taste of before. I was happy doing new stuff, trying out new things, being untied from you. Because what made me unhappy… was you.”

Your eye twitched as you didn’t know whether you should feel offended now. But when you let the words sink in and contemplated them, you felt exactly the same. Seeing and spending time with your husband had dreaded you of all your energy and happiness as you two had forgotten how to be happy together anymore.

And you told him exactly that now.

“I agree.” He nodded. “And then I thought about what made me really unhappy. Because up until two weeks ago, I was really happy. And then came you, and you made me feel so miserable.”

You drew your brows together, not quite sure if you had heard right. But you had, and it stung. No, it actually hurt very much that it took all your might to refrain yourself from crying right now. “I… still make you unhappy?”

But Jaehyun’s facial expression didn’t match his words as he nodded. His features were soft, a slight smile playing around his lips. There was no way he could find this amusing?

“It makes me unhappy to see you unhappy. It makes me unhappy to see you suffering because of your grandmother and simultaneously getting mistreated by the guy who is supposed to make you happy. Because if he can’t do it, who will? I was just too blind to see this.”

You dropped your gaze. Jaehyun had. He had shown up in ways nobody else ever had. Just to… see you happy, because he couldn’t stand the thought of you being sad and miserable?

Knowing he was pushing so far, he didn’t wait for you to reply, but instead wanted to know, “What makes you unhappy?”

“When you’re not with me.”

With slow steps, he approached you until he stood tall and calm in front of you. You lifted your head and looked into his clear and sincere eyes.

“Please don’t ask me what will make me happy, Jaehyun,” you pleaded him straight-forwardly. “Because I’m not sure whether you’d like the answer.”

“What if I’d like to hear it?”

You furrowed in worry. “At all cost?”

Jaehyun inhaled sharply as though in tension, but his soft features remained. 

“What if you don’t like it?” you asked.

“You will never know if you don’t try, right?”

‘If, at some point in your life, you realize that you have made the wrong decision, don’t hesitate for a single second and tell him.’ You remembered your grandmother’s words too well.

He didn’t expect it though when you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him down to you. 

He still tasted exactly like in your memories.

____

“Are you excited, Kang Kang?” 

Your dog yelped and ran around in circles. You patted his head when he eventually came to a standstill in front of you and looked up to you with big eyes.

“Are you excited to live with your dad again?”

As though in response, Kang Kang started to whirl around again and you laughed. Lately, you found yourself laughing very often, and every time it came from deep within you with all sincerity and happiness. 

In the past two weeks, your grandmother had started to settle with her new caretaker so that you could cut down your visits to once or twice a week, because you were currently busy moving houses. But each time, Jaehyun came with you, and your grandmother was overjoyed.

You had decided to move into a new home together that wasn’t riddled with memories of a very unpleasant phase in your marriage that had almost ended it for good. It was just as big and beautiful as this apartment, but you had already agreed that that one would only be a temporary home as well.

Maybe, not too far in the future, you could move outside of the city where Kang Kang would have a garden to run around in and where he would have playmates, maybe both, a boy and girl.

You blushed at the thought and looked at the engagement ring and wedding band that you had been wearing again since the day you had found out that your husband had never signed the divorce papers.

Just because you could make it on your own didn’t mean you wanted and needed to. After all, you had given a vow to each other, because somewhere in the past, you were so happy, you had agreed on spending the rest of your lives with each other. And that meant something, so much more than anyone not married could imagine. 

You weren’t walking down the aisle thinking you’re going to get divorced. You got married, because this was supposed to be forever.

Yes, it was right that it took much less to turn “Till death do us part” into “Till your lack of time for me do us part”, but unlike the worst case scenario, everything else was fixable. 

The movers were busy carrying down the last boxes with your stuff while you put Kang Kang on a leash. Looking around your old apartment for one last time, you bid farewell to this home of yours that not only bore bliss, but also destruction. But you had come out of it stronger, better than before.

You wouldn’t say that all your differences were now solved by deciding to get back together. Love alone couldn’t magically make them disappear, that was not how it worked. But you had talked long about this, what you needed to get back to where you had once been.

You had thought of your grandmother’s words every so often. No, you had not given it all yet, you eventually had to admit to her personally too, and she had only smiled, as though in knowing. Jaehyun and you both still had, apart from love of course, the passion, the determination, the strength. And hope. 

As long as there was that, your marriage was fixable.

And this time, you would make sure nothing would do you part again.

“The movers are ready, so we should get to the car. Here, let me take Kang Kang.”

Your heart was full of love and hope too when Jaehyun appeared at your door with a smile and took the leash from you after giving you a kiss on your cheek. 

Jaehyun was a husband who took care of things, so that you wouldn’t need to. Wasn’t this what marriage was about? Making each other’s lives easier and happier, because life itself was already hard enough.

Your grandmother had realized this very early. What a woman.

You didn’t think of Jaemin that often anymore. Only every now and then, he involuntarily crossed your mind and tugged on your heartstrings as a strong memory that day by day slowly faded, too. His face became blurry when you tried to remember his exact features, and eventually, he would only be a flash of a picture among a string of memories when you thought back to this time. As it had always been.

The only difference was that you had shut down every possibility of reaching out on either side. When you caught yourself wanting to unblock him and look him up on social media, you put your phone aside and let the feeling pass. It really worked wonders.

And one day, even this urge would perish.

When you stepped onto the streets that were still layered with a thin sheen of snow and ice, you noticed that the sun was shining and a touch of spring lingered in the air. The temperature would start to get warmer soon as well.

Your husband helped Kang Kang into the back of the car before he circled it and opened the door for you. And that was it, the huge difference. So subtle, but so grave all at once, it nearly made your heart burst.

“Are you ready to go home?” Jaehyun asked.

And finally, you answered, “Yes, I really want to go home.”  

Winter was still here, but in your heart, it was already summer when your husband took your hand.

You wanted rays of sunshine, warm breezes, salt on your skin and the chanting of crickets.

You wanted it to always be summer.

You wanted your husband.

____

One month prior

Jaemin had followed you all the way back to Seoul that very same day your grandmother had been admitted to the hospital, ditching the biggest opportunity in his entire life after all.

After he had seen you so disappointed and sad, mostly because of him, your expression hadn’t left his mind for hours. When it dawned on him what he was doing to you, letting you down in a very crucial situation, he wanted to beat himself up for being such a selfish idiot once again and had directly made his way to the café where you had fled to. But when he had arrived, you were already gone. 

Following you all the way to Seoul, he had been thinking of all the ways he could make it up to you. He had booked a hotel in the city and prepared to stay there for as long as you needed him. But when he had arrived, he saw you in front of the hospital and you weren’t alone. 

You had been with your husband and he had held you close as you cried in his arms, he had seen it all from his car.

He was too late again, he had thought. But when he had looked closer, the way Jaehyun was holding you and consoling you, he knew that timing wasn’t the problem, it had never been. 

You couldn’t be hugged like this by anyone. Jaemin couldn’t embrace you the way Jaehyun did, and it turned out to be a painful realization for him. It couldn’t be him, it also couldn’t be anyone else. It had to be Jaehyun.

It had always been Jaehyun.

___

“May I come in?”

Jaemin stood in front of Jaehyun’s door later that fateful day after you had left with your dog, facing his former best friend in person for the first time in many years. 

Occasionally, he would look at his social media after he had found out on a random day that Jaehyun had unblocked him and vice versa. Somehow, they still wanted to know what the other was up to, who they were up to with. The irony of that.

Jaehyun remained quiet, but pushed the door open for him. 

“Why are you here?” Jaehyun then asked him when they reached the living room. “She’s not here.”

“I know,” Jaemin answered. “I came for you.”

“So?” He braced his arm against the table and leaned back. “The invitations for the tea party are not out yet.”

“There is no need to be so condescending.” At this point, Jaemin was just so tired and wanted to leave this all behind him. “After today, I will be out of your lives, forever.”

“Sounds tempting. But as you know, we will be officially divorced soon, so she’s all yours to have.”

“But I’m not the one she needs.”

Jaehyun drew his brow together. “You’re the one she wants to be with.”

He smiled mildly and repeated, “But I’m not the one she needs. We don’t need to be together a fourth time to figure this out. You show up in ways I will never be able to, you’re the one she needs, even if she doesn’t see it yet.”

“Well… you’re too late.” Jaehyun shrugged. “I’ll sign the papers and will send them to my lawyer tomorrow. You think she’s some puppet you can toss around when you’re done playing just to pick her up again when it’s convenient for you? That’s not how relationships work.”

“I know.” Jaemin dropped his head in regret. “I’ve never wanted all of this. I’ve always wanted the best for…”

“...yourself,” Jaehyun ended the sentence aloud.

“... her,” Jaemin ended the sentence in his head.

And even though everything was different now, even though he had evolved and grown so much as a person, it was easier to let them believe that he was still the selfish, hard-headed Jaemin from the past. 

After all, he couldn't hold her like Jaehyun to make her feel so happy. 

It had to be someone particular. It had to be him.

And if he would be gone, then no one could make her happy anymore.

So Jaemin dashed forward and grabbed his former friend by the collar. Jaehyun was too perplexed to instantly react and just faced his opposite with a shocked expression.

“Listen up,” Jaemin growled, “if you send out signed divorce papers, I will come for you in the worst way possible. If you don’t rekindle this marriage with her, I will make your life a living hell. We might not like each other anymore, but we both love her, and if I ever see you making her sad again, you can dig your own grave. You will fix this marriage, no matter the cost, are we in the clear?”

He slowly let go of Jaehyun after luring out a reluctant nod from him. Latter cleared his throat and asked, “... but, do you think she even still wants to be with me?”

This time, Jaemin’s smile was sincere. “I’m absolutely sure about that. Show her again the reason why she was picking you over me, again and again. Remind her of all the traits that make you so much better for her than me, and she will choose you again. If she hasn’t already. Or do you not want t-”

“I do!” Jaehyun blurted out. “I absolutely do.”

Jaemin stretched out his arm and gave his former friend’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “Very well.”

When he made his way to the door, Jaehyun stopped him with the words, “Thank you. Honestly.”

Initially, he wanted to turn around, but it was starting to burn behind his eyes, so Jaemin kept his back turned to Jaehyun and said,

“Don’t make me regret this.”

____

Jaemin threw his phone into the bushes on his way out.

So, what now?

He turned his head to the sky, and even though the tears started streaming down his face now, he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket and smiled through the blurriness. The wind was cold and burned his wet cheeks, and suddenly, it started snowing again.

This pain would vanish, he was sure of that. When you had fixed your marriage, got children and grew old together, his pain would eventually pass in this timeline. 

Yet, at that moment, it felt like it ripped Jaemin’s heart to shreds, even to the point where he wondered if he was actually tricking himself into believing that he would be fixed again or had to live the rest of his life with this ache slowly eating him up from the inside until there was nothing left of him anymore except for the frayed edges of his once so lively soul.

Jaemin took a deep breather and swallowed the next wave of tears.

He had no regrets, despite everything. And he still had hope. As long as there was that and he was able to hold onto these faint strings, he would continue on.

A fresh start, that was what he needed now as he trotted to his car. Far away from you and Jaehyun so that your paths would never cross again in this lifetime. That was the last selfless act he could still offer to you.

America sounded good.

[greengoblinswifey]

Hii can you do one of Nicholas Chavez where your dating his brother.. you have been dating for 3 years but then one day you catch your boyfriends brother(Nicholas) in his room moaning y/ns name !🤭

warnings— infidelity, male masturbation, betrayal, slight voyeurism, daddy kink, fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n— love love love this, enjoy and lmk if you guys wanted to me on my NAC taglist <3

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

It was a typical evening at your boyfriend's house. You were lounging in the living room, scrolling through your phone, while he was in the kitchen, cooking dinner. His brother, Nicholas, was nowhere to be seen—at least, not until you heard the faint sound of music coming from his room.

You had always found comfort in the quiet moments at their house, the familiarity of their home filling you with a sense of belonging. But tonight, there was something different about the atmosphere. As you listened to the muffled hum of the music, a part of you couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

You told yourself to relax, to enjoy the time you had with your boyfriend, but then it happened.

You heard it.

The faint sound of your name—mixed in with moans.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you froze. There was no mistaking it. The voice was unmistakably Nicholas’.

Your mind raced. Why was he saying your name like that? Was he talking to someone else? You stood up slowly, your feet carrying you to the door of his room without fully understanding why.

You pushed the door open just a crack.

And there he was.

Nicholas, sitting on the edge of his bed, his hand gliding along his hard, thick cock looking lost in the moment.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he moaned again, his voice deep and thick with desire.

You felt a wave of shock wash over you, your breath catching in your throat. A part of you wanted to turn around and run out of there, but another part of you, a much darker part, couldn't pull yourself away.

You stood there frozen, the door still ajar, barely able to breathe. Nicholas hadn’t noticed you yet, too far gone, his eyes squeezed shut, his muscles on his sculpted body tense. Your name fell from his lips once more, and the sound of it made your pulse race.

“Y/N,” he moaned again, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You felt your stomach flip, guilt and confusion mixing with something darker, something you hadn’t wanted to acknowledge before. This was wrong, yet you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. You had to remind yourself that this was your boyfriend's brother.

A sudden noise from downstairs broke the trance. You snapped out of your thoughts, heart hammering in your chest. You quickly stepped back from the door, pulling it almost completely shut, but not fully. You couldn’t look away, though you knew you should.

It wasn’t until the soft shuffle of footsteps filled the hallway that Nicholas finally opened his eyes, realizing you were there.

For a moment, there was silence. His eyes locked onto yours, wide with shock and confusion. His breathing was heavy, chest rising and falling rapidly as if he, too, was trying to process what had just happened.

“Y/N—” Nicholas’ voice was barely a whisper, filled with the weight of unspoken words. He didn’t move, his posture stiff.

You swallowed hard, the words barely forming in your mouth. “What—what the hell was that?”

His eyes darted away for a second, his face flushing a deep shade of red. He shifted on the bed after pulling up his sweats, clearly flustered. “I didn’t mean for you to hear that.”

You took a step back, your heart racing, your mind swirling. “You didn’t mean for me to hear that?”

He stood up quickly. “Look, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quiet but urgent. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the pieces finally falling together. The tension, the moments when he’d get a little too close, the way his gaze lingered on you a little too long. You'd noticed it before, but you had never dared to think about it. You couldn’t have, not with your boyfriend, his brother—you never thought it would come to this.

“Nicholas,” you whispered, the confusion and anger giving way to something else, something dangerous. “I—this isn’t right. You’re my boyfriend’s brother. We’ve known each other for years.”

“I know. God, I know.” Nicholas stepped closer, his voice urgent now. “But I can’t help how I feel. I’ve tried. Every day, I’ve tried to push it away. But you, you’ve always been there. And I’ve thought about you in ways I shouldn’t. You saw it.”

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words, and the air around you seemed to crackle with the tension between you both. “This is a mistake. This has to be a mistake.”

“I don’t want it to be,” he said, his voice a low rasp, stepping closer still. “I can’t just forget what I feel.”

You backed away, your breath quickening. “I don’t know what to say to you, Nicholas. This is insane. I’m with your brother. I love him.” Your voice wavered slightly, but you couldn’t let it falter. You couldn’t give in.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered, his eyes desperate now. “But I can’t pretend like this isn’t real. I can’t keep living with how much I fucking want you.”

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. Every word, every breath between you felt like it could be the start of something you couldn’t take back. You could feel the pull between you, the temptation, the danger, and it was almost too much.

What the hell do you do now?

“I could treat you better, I could fuck you better—I haven’t heard your sweet moans at night in months Y/N.”

You didn’t know how to respond. The urge to run, to get out of that room, was almost overpowering. But something pulled you back toward him.

Nicholas’ words still hung in the air, sharp and heavy. You could barely breathe, your mind reeling. His voice echoed in your mind as if each word was a spark, igniting something deep inside you that you had worked so hard to suppress. You felt sick, guilty, confused. But there was something undeniable in his words, something that had taken root in your thoughts.

You shook your head, as if trying to rid yourself of the feeling. “Stop,” you whispered, taking a step back. “I can’t listen to this. This is wrong.”

Nicholas stood there, his eyes intense, unyielding. “You know I’m right. You know it’s not like it used to be with him. You’ve felt it, haven’t you?”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words suffocating you. The truth was, you had felt something slipping between you and your boyfriend lately—distance, disconnection, but hearing Nicholas articulate it, him of all people, felt like a slap to the face.

“I’m with your brother,” you said, your voice shaking, but firm. “I can’t do this. I’m not doing this with you.”

His expression softened, but only for a moment. His gaze flickered to the door. “You should think about it. Really think about it. Because you deserve more.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. With one last glance at him, you turned and hurried out of the room, your heart racing, as you tried to force your thoughts to focus on anything else. Anything but what had just happened.

You found your boyfriend downstairs in the kitchen, humming as he prepared dinner, blissfully unaware of the storm you were carrying inside. The warmth of his smile, the moment, only made you feel worse.

You tried to push everything out of your mind as he approached you, his arm wrapping around your waist. His lips found the side of your neck, kissing it softly, and you felt your heart drop.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his voice low, concerned. “You’ve been up there for a while.”

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just uh just needed a minute. Everything’s fine.”

You felt his lips press against your neck again, and for a moment, you thought you might melt into the warmth of his embrace. You couldn’t think of how to explain what had just happened, and frankly, you weren’t sure you were ready to confront it.

He pulled back, his eyes meeting yours with a smile that made your stomach twist. “Good. You know I hate seeing you upset,” he said, brushing a strand of your curly hair behind your ear. “Come on, let’s sit down and eat.”

Later that night, after dinner, your boyfriend had suggested a casual movie night. “Hey, why don’t you watch something with us, Nick?” he called up to his brother, who had been silent since dinner. “It’ll be good to have all of us together for once.”

You felt a pit form in your stomach at the thought of spending more time with Nicholas, especially after everything that had happened earlier. But you didn’t have much choice. You couldn’t act suspicious. So, you sat down on the couch, trying to keep your distance.

Nicholas appeared in the doorway, hesitating for a moment before sitting down right next to you. He didn’t say a word, just settled in with his gaze lingering on you a little too long. You tried to focus on the TV, your eyes straight ahead, but you could feel his presence next to you—his every movement, every shift in his seat felt like an electric current, almost too much to bear.

He was so close now, just beside you. You could feel his warmth, his proximity making it difficult to concentrate. Every few seconds, your peripheral vision caught him glancing at you, his gaze sharp, searching.

You tried to ignore him. You tried to pretend he wasn’t there. But it was hard when he was right beside you, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Every now and then, you felt his leg brush against yours, sending a jolt of heat through you. It made you feel like you were betraying yourself with every second that passed.

Your boyfriend, oblivious to everything, wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. You leaned into him, trying to ground yourself in the comfort of his touch, but Nicholas’ presence was like a constant hum in your ear. Every time you shifted, you could feel his eyes on you, his gaze burning into your skin.

At one point, you glanced toward him, just a fleeting moment and found his eyes already locked on you. He didn’t look away, not for a second. The intensity in his stare made your heart skip a beat, but you quickly averted your gaze, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

Your boyfriend kissed your temple, pulling you closer into him, unaware of the silent tension building between you and Nicholas. “You okay?” he whispered softly into your ear, his voice a soothing contrast to the storm that was raging inside you.

“Yeah, just tired,” you muttered, your voice shaky, betraying the calm you were trying to hold on to.

Nicholas shifted beside you, just enough for you to feel it, and you couldn’t help but feel the weight of his attention on you. Every time you reached for the popcorn or adjusted yourself, his gaze followed, and you could feel it. It was torture. Every second felt like it stretched on for hours.

The movie played on, the dim light flickering across the room. Your boyfriend, wrapped in a cozy blanket beside you, had fallen into a deep sleep, his light snoring filling the otherwise quiet room. You shifted slightly, trying to ignore the discomfort creeping up your spine. Then, without warning, you felt a hand on your thigh. Your breath hitched, and you froze.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to wake your boyfriend.

Nicholas didn’t pull away. His fingers gently caressed your skin, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

“Just hear me out,” he said, his voice low, “Just listen to what I have to say.”

You could feel the weight of his words, but you resisted. “I don’t want to hear it,” you replied, your throat tightening as you pulled your legs closer to you.

But he didn’t give up. He leaned closer, his lips almost brushing your ear as he spoke. “I know you’re not satisfied,” he murmured, the words cutting through the tension in the room. “The fact that you’ve even considered this tells me everything I need to know. My brother isn’t satisfying you.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you forced yourself to respond, even though your voice cracked. “I’m very happy with him,” you said, the words feeling hollow even to your own ears.

Nicholas chuckled softly, the sound low and almost mocking. “You don’t even believe that yourself.”

You tried to push his words away, but his gaze was unrelenting. He was too close, his presence too overwhelming. “You’re sexually frustrated, aren’t you?” he continued, his voice so smooth it almost felt like a caress. “I could never do that to you. You deserve so much more. You’re beautiful, I’d treat you like a queen.”

You wanted to ignore him, wanted to focus on your boyfriend beside you, but he wasn’t done. “He’s been texting other girls, you know. And I would never do that to you. Not in a million years.”

Your stomach dropped at the thought. “H-he has?” The words left your lips before you could stop them, the vulnerability in your voice unmistakable.

Nicholas leaned in closer, his hand moving gently to tuck a stray curl behind your ear. His voice was soft, almost comforting, but you could hear the hint of something darker underneath. “Yes,” he said. “But I’m here now.”

You felt a wave of hurt wash over you. The truth of his words, the insinuation of betrayal, it all hit you harder than you expected. You wanted to cry, but Nicholas was there, his presence suffocating yet oddly comforting. “Don’t cry sweetheart,” he whispered, his tone soft yet possessive. “Daddy’s here.”

Your mind was spinning. You could feel the weight of the moment, the pressure of his words tugging at your resolve. Your heart was torn between the man beside you and the brother who had just shattered your world with a few whispered sentences.

“I won’t hurt you,” he murmured, his gaze intense. “I just want you to see that there’s more out there than what you have right now. You deserve someone who makes you feel alive again.”

You swallowed, your heart racing. It wasn’t like you didn’t feel the pull—Nicholas was captivating, his words hitting too close to home. But you couldn’t betray your boyfriend like this. Not now, not ever.

Then, in a sudden, heated moment, Nicholas leaned in closer. The smell of his cologne lingered in the air as he moved, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

“I just want to show you how good it can be,” he whispered. “You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

Before you could answer, his lips brushed yours lightly, a soft, tentative kiss. Your breath hitched, your heart pounding against your chest.

The kiss wasn’t forceful. It was slow, almost gentle, as if he was testing the waters, gauging your response. You didn’t know how to react. Part of you wanted to pull away, but another part of you, one that you didn’t want to acknowledge, wanted to give in.

Nicholas pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours, looking for a sign of something. You were still frozen, unsure of what to do next. Then, just as the quiet settled in, you heard your boyfriend shift beside you, a soft groan escaping his lips as he stirred from his deep sleep.

His hand moved on your thigh after the distraction, his touch light but deliberate. His fingers trailed higher and higher until they settled on your crotch with your shorts being the only thing separating him from your pussy. Every brush of his fingers rubbing your pussy through the fabric made your heart race, your mind spinning with the growing conflict inside you. You could hear your boyfriend, deep in sleep beside you, unaware that his brother was about to finger you.

“You’re frustrated, if you weren’t, you wouldn’t be letting me do this.”

You wanted to push him away, to shut him down, but his words lingered, threading through your thoughts. The way he said it, so sure of himself, made you question things you hadn’t before. Your lips parted to respond, to say that everything was fine, but when you spoke, your voice cracked.

“Let me make you feel good.” His fingers gently stroked the inside of your thigh, the movement so slow, so calculated, that it sent a shiver through you. A gasp left your lips before you pressed your lips together to be quiet as he ripped your shorts open. His fingers went to your clit, rubbing it and spreading the wetness you were shocked graced your pussy.

You tried to turn your attention to your boyfriend, who was still lost in sleep, but the pull of Nicholas’ presence was too strong. His words, his touch, were disorienting. He chuckled softly as you moaned, the sound warm and knowing. “You deserve more. You’re beautiful, and you should feel like it every single day. I could make you feel wanted, really wanted.” His thumb traced small, soothing circles on your clit, and you fought to keep your focus. “I could treat you better than he ever has.”

Your pussy fluttered at his words. There was something about the way he spoke, so certain, so confident. Two of his fingers slid pressed lightly into you, curling to meet your sweet spot. You didn’t pull away, despite everything in you screaming to stop. His fingers were moving steadily, the pressure of his touch made your pulse quicken.

“You deserve more than this,” he repeated, his voice almost a whisper now. “I would never let you feel neglected. I’ll always make you feel like a queen.”

You could feel his breath against your ear as he leaned in closer. You had to bite your lip to hold back the moans as he finger fucked you right beside your boyfriend, his brother.

Everything in you screamed that this was wrong, that you couldn’t betray your boyfriend like this. But Nicholas was there, his touch gentle and making you feel utter pleasure, and it was hard to fight it. You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, but at the same time, something else, your orgasm, was stirring inside you.

His thumb moved to your clit as his fingers continued pumping inside you and your breath caught in your throat. “Don’t fight it,” he murmured. “I can make you feel better than he ever could. You don’t have to be stuck.”

You wanted to tell him to stop, to push him away, but all you could do was sit there, caught between the two of them—your boyfriend, asleep beside you, and Nicholas who was working his fingers inside you even faster now. You hoped your boyfriend wouldn’t hear the loud squelching your pussy was making.

As your orgasm built, you tried to move away, but Nicholas’ fingers remained thrusting inside you. “I’m here now,” he said softly. “Let me be the one to make you cum.”

The words wrapped around you, and for a moment, you were torn between guilt and something else, something you didn’t know how to define. All you could do was sit there, fighting the emotions inside you as his fingers repeatedly thrusted against your g spot, a reminder of the choices you didn’t want to face.

“Please,” you whispered, clutching onto his shoulder as you felt yourself nearing the edge.

“Please what? Is it what I think it is? Do you wanna cum for daddy?” Nicholas whispered back.

You didn’t want to admit you were about to betray your boyfriend in the worst way possible, even if you were too far gone and tethering on the edge.

“If you want me to make you cum, you’re gonna have to beg me, say please daddy, please let me cum,” Nicholas whispered, darkly.

Maybe it was the fact that your boyfriend had been neglecting your needs. At least—that’s what you told yourself to feel better about what you were about to do.

“P-please daddy, please let me cum, I need it so bad,” you gasped into his ear, softly.

Nicholas smirked cockily, his movements more precise and he hummed in content feeling your wet pussy clench and gush around his fingers. He finger fucked you through your high, the sound of squelching filling the living room from how wet you were.

“That’s it, you’re such a good girl, you did so well,” he cooed before bringing his fingers to his mouth to clean your juices.

Nicholas held you close, his hands supporting you effortlessly as he lifted you. Your legs instinctively wrapped around him, the proximity overwhelming in the best and worst way. You could feel his heartbeat through his muscular chest, steady and firm, yet your own pulse was erratic, betraying the conflict in your mind.

His eyes never left yours, searching for something in you that mirrored what he was feeling. He was so close, his breath warm against your ear. “Tell me if you don’t want this,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, the question lingering in the air. “I’ll stop right now, but I need you to tell me.”

You felt a rush of emotions, a mixture of desire and guilt. You couldn’t speak for a moment, your heart pounding, a knot forming in your throat. Everything inside you wanted to pull away, but everything else, the weight of his words, the pull between you two, made it impossible.

Nicholas shifted slightly, his hand resting lightly on your back, coaxing you to face him. He was patient, letting you breathe, giving you the space to process. But you could barely think.

“Look at me,” he said softly, his voice still steady but with an undercurrent of something else. “I need to hear you say it. Say you want this.”

You hesitated, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt, a mix of nerves and longing twisting in your chest. He was right there, his gaze intense but gentle, and it was hard to fight the warmth in your stomach and the fluttering of your pussy.

You buried your face in his neck, too shy to meet his gaze. The words you needed to say felt so foreign, so risky, but you knew he wanted to hear them.

He chuckled softly, the sound almost a caress. “Baby, look at me,” he repeated, this time firmer, the hint of command in his tone. “Don’t hide from me, not now. Tell me what you want.”

Your breath hitched, and you slowly pulled away, your eyes meeting his. Your heart raced in your chest as you finally let the words slip out, barely above a whisper.

“I want this, I want you,” you murmured, your voice faltering slightly.

Nicholas’ lips curled into a soft smile, his hand lifting to gently brush your cheek. “Good girl,” he said, the approval in his voice warm, like he’d just won something precious. “You won’t regret this.”

He held you even tighter, his grip supportive as he began to carry you, your heart racing with every step. You felt the overwhelming mix of emotions, of everything swirling in your head—guilt, desire, hesitation, but also something you hadn’t expected, trust.

His voice was soft as he walked, his pace steady as he made his way upstairs. “I’ll make you feel like the queen you are,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “No more doubts. You deserve to be treated the way you’ve always wanted.”

You nodded slowly, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. You wanted to protest, wanted to pull away, but your body didn’t listen. It was as though you were pulled into this moment, caught in the push and pull of your emotions.

He set you down gently on his bed. his hands lingering on your waist, looking at you with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. “You don’t have to be scared,” he said quietly. “I’m here now. And I’ll never let you down like he has.”

You didn’t know what to say, your mind too fogged with everything to process. But there, in that moment, you made a decision, you would trust him, even if you weren’t sure of what it all meant. All you could do was nod.

The atmosphere in the room was thick, heavy with what lingered between you and your boyfriend’s brother. Every brush of his hand removing your clothes, every tender kiss, seemed to deepen the connection. His fingers gently grazed the curve of your waist, pulling you even closer, his chest pressing against yours as the kiss deepened.

You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, in your chest, thumping against the walls of your ribcage like it wanted to escape. You couldn’t pull away. You didn’t want to. He removed his clothes revealing his chiseled body that made your pussy throb.

Nicholas’ lips barely left yours as he moved, his body shifting to position you under him and his cock against your wet pussy. He was careful, mindful, his hands tender but firm, never rushing. His lips broke from yours only for a moment, breathing heavily against your skin. “We need to be quiet,” he whispered, his voice rough, strained with desire. “I don’t want him to hear us.”

You nodded, your body already reacting to him, but you swallowed the urge to let out a noise, to say something, anything. The weight of the moment was almost too much.

His hand slid gently up your back pulling you against him as his raw cock pushed inside you, and you bit your lip to hold in a soft gasp. Nicholas, ever so perceptive, caught the small tremor in your body and looked down at you with an almost amused expression. “You’re so beautiful when you’re trying to keep quiet,” he murmured, his voice soft, full of admiration.

You felt warmth rise in your cheeks at the compliment, and you knew you couldn’t hold back much longer. He wasn’t letting you. He was pulling you into him, his cock working slowly, carefully, but every thrust seemed to melt away the last bit of resistance you had.

“I want you to feel good, sweetheart,” Nicholas whispered again, his voice barely audible. “I want to see you lose control, baby. Let me take care of you.”

His words were like a spark, igniting a fire deep within you. You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep quiet, your breaths already coming faster as his cock pounded into you, his fingers brushing against your skin as he leaned down to kiss your neck.

The kiss was slow, deliberate, each movement calculated. But even in the midst of his tenderness, you felt your orgasm building. You tried to hold it in, tried to keep the moans from slipping out, but the way Nicholas fucked you, the way his cock and lips made you feel, made it almost impossible.

“Shh,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “I know it feels good, baby, but we have to be quiet, okay?”

You nodded, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you as you tried to focus, tried to control the way your body reacted. The struggle to remain silent only added to the intensity of the moment. His lips trailed down to your tits, his tongue darting out to lick your brown nipples. “You’re doing so well,” he whispered against your skin. “You’re so strong, baby. So beautiful. I can feel how much you need this.”

His words were like honey, sweet and comforting, but they made your heart race even faster. You knew you couldn’t hold back much longer. The intimacy, the quiet tension, was too much.

You closed your eyes, focusing on the steady rhythm of his cock and the sound of your own shallow breaths. “I don’t know if I can hold back,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he kissed you again, this time on your lips. “It’s okay. Cum for daddy. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Each touch felt more intimate than the last, each moment more precious as he pounded into you steadily, his eyes locked on yours. In that moment, you surrendered—not just allowing your orgasm to take you over and soak his cock but to the emotions that were rising to the surface.

Nicholas’ orgasm followed soon after, his hot load filling you to the brim and making you bite down on his shoulder as he whispered dirty things in your ear.

As the room settled into a quiet, almost still air, Nicholas' cock remained inside you. His gaze never wavered from yours, intense and searching, as if trying to read every thought in your eyes.

“You deserve so much more than you realize,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. His words seemed to linger in the air, pressing against your thoughts, making you feel exposed, vulnerable.

You swallowed, trying to compose yourself, but the intensity of the moment, the depth of his words, made it hard to focus. “Nicholas,” you murmured, your voice trembling just slightly as you tried to find the right words.

He pulled out and gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine. “Shh,” he soothed. “I need you to hear me. I’m here for you, I’m not like him. I’ll treat you the way you deserve. You don’t need to settle for anything less.”

His words caught you off guard. Not like him—his brother. The one you’d been with for so long, who you thought you knew. It was all so confusing, yet you couldn’t help but feel something stir—something both thrilling and terrifying.

“I’m not like him,” Nicholas repeated softly, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll show you what it means to be treated right. You deserve everything, and I’m going to make sure you see that.”

Your chest tightened. You couldn’t deny the mix of emotions that bubbled up inside of you—the desire to believe him, the frustration with your own confusion, the need to protect your heart. You tried to look away, but his presence was too overwhelming, his gaze too penetrating.

“I—I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, your voice soft, your hands nervously twisting.

“Say you’ll give me a chance,” he urged, his voice steady but coaxing, his hand sliding down to rest gently on your thigh. “I’m not going to pressure you,” he said softly, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin. “But just know that when you’re ready, I’ll be here. You’re mine, and I’ll make sure you know that, every single day.”

You shifted slightly, your mind spinning with a mix of emotions.“I- I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” you whispered, almost to yourself, but Nicholas leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.

“You don’t have to be, baby,” he said softly, his breath warm against your skin. “But just know that I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Nicholas held your gaze for a few more moments, before gently lifting you up, his hand resting protectively around your waist.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he repeated, a promise you weren’t sure you were ready to hear, but you couldn’t help but feel a part of you believe it.

As he helped you stand, he turned to you. “Now go lay beside him with my cum dripping out of that tight fucking pussy.”

[anakinstwinklebunny]

i am on my hands and knees begging u to write more stalker!anakin with perhaps a bit of perv!anakin sprinkled in 🙇‍♀️🙏🏽

also wanna take the time to say i looovee ur work

PAIRING: modern!stalker!anakin x f!reader

Author's note: didn't know if you mean stalker!nerd!ani or just basic ani (but if you meant nerdy geek, don't worry, stuff is coming) OKAY NOT ME FORGETTING ABOUT MY SERIES OF STALKER!MAFIA!ANAKIN...

ANAKIN SKYWALKER watched you through the crack in the curtains, hand dragging slowly down the wall as if he could feel you through it. You’re sprawled on your couch, legs spread, completely unaware that there's a pair of eyes that devour you, making sure every detail is seared into his memory. The soft curve of your legs, the way your shirt rides up just a little too high, exposing a teasing glimpse of your stomach—it all has him dizzy with need.

"Perfect," he mutters under his breath, other hand twitching at his side.

It wasn’t supposed to get this far, wasn’t supposed to become a nightly routine, but how could he stop? You’ve got him hooked, like a drug he’d never want to quit. He knows the routine of your evenings now: the way you kick off your shoes by the door, toss your bag onto the counter, and wander into the kitchen, humming some off-key melody that somehow drives him insane.

Tonight was no different. He adjusts his position outside, leaning against the railing as you shuffle into the kitchen. You’re making tea, your favorite one. His tongue flicks out to wet his lips as he imagines stepping behind you, just making you feel loved, worshipped, cherished.

Your head tilts, brow furrowing slightly as your eyes scan the darkness. He steps back, hiding in the from the spot that could make you notice him, yet even from that position he caught unease in your gaze. It send a thrill through him, a delicious wave of knowing he’s gotten under your skin without even touching you.

His hand creeps down to his waistband, breath shaky as fingers brush over himself through the fabric. “Fuck,” he hisses quietly, watching as you lift the steaming mug to your lips. It’s maddening, the way you sip so innocently, as if you’re not tempting him beyond reason already.

Eyes shut for a moment, other hand curled into a fist, his forehead resting against it before his hand sped up, stroking himself to the most beautiful image playing before his eyes.

But then you do something he wouldn't ever expect. You pause mid-sip, glancing towards the window. For a moment, he freezes, pulse stopping in his throat.

Did you see him?

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispers to himself, grin spreading over his lips “You’re starting to notice me, aren’t you?”

The thought of you lying awake tonight, glancing at every corner, your heart pacing with fear and all the imagines of what could happen--it’s almost too much to bear. He palms himself harder, biting back a groan as his fantasies take over. He imagines you on that couch, moaning his name, nails digging into his shoulders, and your sweet voice trembling as you plead for something you don’t even fully understand.

Would you fight him at first? Try to push him away when he finally stepped out of the dark and claimed what’s rightly his? Or would you give in, submitting to his devotion, finally realizing you were meant to be his all along?

A soft noise pulls him from his thoughts, and his gaze snaps back to you. You’ve moved to the living room now, curling up on the couch with a blanket draped over your legs. Doing nothing but scrolling through your phone, completely unaware of what's really happening.

Anakin lets out a shuddering breath, his pupils blown wide with hunger. He can’t stay out here much longer. The craving to touch, to feel, is clawing at him, burning in his veins like fire.

Soon - he promised himself - Soon you’ll know.

And when you do? You’ll never have to be alone again, he'll make sure of that

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne

[hsnlv]

caught! | y.jw

pairing: boyfriend!jungwon x reader

teaser: “so, angel,” jungwon said, his voice dangerously soft, “if i’m your first boyfriend… how do you know how to shave a guy?”

others: jungwon is visibly manly in this one and im soooo in love w manly jungwon!

wc: 1.1k

a/n: have you guys ever seen tha clip from one of jungwon’s live where you can see his upper lips facial hair that started to grow?? BEAUTIFUL😵‍💫 this is defo inspired by that live keke

“baby, can you help me shave?” jungwon asked, handing you his razor with an expectant look. you couldn’t help but notice the faint shadow of his moustache, barely visible but still pricking his soft skin. knowing jungwon, he probably hated the sight of it—he always shaved at the first sign of facial hair.

you took the razor from him, smiling giddily. “of course, uwon!” hopping onto the bathroom sink, you faced him, legs dangling on either side of his waist. moments like this made your heart flutter—being so close to him, feeling his warmth, catching the faint scent of his cologne that you’d recognize anywhere.

“don’t forget the shaving cream,” he murmured, his tone slightly teasing.

“uwon, let me handle this,” you said confidently, reaching for the cream. he just arched a brow but stayed silent, his lips pressing into a playful pout as you carefully lathered his face. your fingers worked gently, spreading the cream over his soft skin, humming to yourself as you did.

you guys are this close whenever you do his skincare or face masks. and normally, jungwon would hum along with you or tease you for singing off-key, but today, he was strangely quiet. you glanced up, your brows furrowing. “what’s wrong?” you asked, tilting your head.

he wiped the cream from his lips with a tissue, setting it aside before his hand settled on your thigh, squeezing gently. the warmth of his palm sent little sparks through you, but his expression… something about it made your stomach twist.

“angel baby,” he said, his voice soft yet firm, a tone he rarely used. the way he said your favorite nickname made your heart skip, though there was a flicker of something behind his eyes—curiosity, maybe? you hummed in response, but your pulse quickened.

“you told me i was your first boyfriend, didn’t you?” he tilted his head slightly, studying you. his voice wasn’t accusing, but the question hung heavy in the air.

your heart dropped to your stomach. “uh, yeah…?” you answered hesitantly, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

jungwon’s brow arched higher. “then how do you know how to shave a guy?”

your mind went blank. oh no. oh no, no, no.

okay, to be fair, it’s not like you wanted to lie to him like that. but you clearly remember during your talking stage with him, he had said that he preferred a girl who was never in a relationship before, with the reason that he could show her how love is actually like.

“uh, well, i mean… i helped my brother before,” you stammered, trying to sound convincing.

jungwon’s lips quirked up ever so slightly, his fingers drumming gently against your thigh. “you don’t have a brother.”

“uh, my dad?” you tried again, forcing a sheepish smile.

“your dad doesn’t even have facial hair,” he countered, leaning in slightly, his tone dangerously soft. “and, if i recall, he’s bald.”

“im pretty sure it’s not much of a different if i shave myself…?” okay that was nasty but whatever it is to make sure he didn’t catch your lie.

“pretty sure?” his voice was too confident, it made your walls of lies crumbled down right upon him. your pout deepened at his chuckle.

“baby, just tell me the truth.” his hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“did you have a boyfriend before me?” his voice was gentler now, but the seriousness in his eyes made your heart race.

you sighed, your shoulders slumping as you nodded. “…yeah.”

jungwon stared at you for a moment, his face completely unreadable. you braced yourself for his reaction, but instead of scolding or looking upset, he laughed. soft at first, then louder, until he was clutching his stomach, his head tilting back.

“baby,” he said between laughs, wiping the corner of his eye. “you thought i’d actually care about that? seriously?”

you blinked at him, cheeks burning. “but you said—”

“i said i prefer someone who hasn’t dated before, not that i need it or care about it,” he cut you off, grinning at you. “you’re so dramatic. it’s adorable.”

you pouted, crossing your arms. “i just wanted to be perfect for you.”

jungwon’s grin softened, his hand cupping your cheek. “you’re already perfect, angel. even when you’re lying terribly.”

“it wasn’t that bad!” you protested, half-heartedly swatting at his chest.

“it was awful,” he teased, pulling you closer by your waist. “your bald dad? your imaginary brother? i almost wanted to let you keep digging just to see what else you’d come up with.”

you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “stop making fun of me!”

“never,” he said smugly, tugging your hands away to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “but seriously, baby, don’t lie to me about stuff like that. i hate liars. and, i don’t care who you dated before me. i just care that you’re with me now.”

his words melted away the embarrassment, leaving nothing but warmth. “i was just scared,” you admitted softly, your gaze dropping to your hands. “you told me you wanted someone who hadn’t been in love before. i was so in love with you, uwon, and i wanted to be everything you dreamed of.”

jungwon’s expression softened even more as he rested his forehead against yours. “you are, baby. even if you’ve been in love before, it doesn’t change the fact that i’m the luckiest guy in the world to have you now.”

you smiled shyly, your fingers curling into the soft fabric of his sweater. “you’re not mad?”

“mad? no. jealous? absolutely. very much,” he said, fixing you with a dramatic, intense gaze.

“you’ve shaved someone else before me? wow, i feel so betrayed,” he added, raising his hands in mock surrender, his tone exaggerated just enough to make you panic.

“uwon, baby! i’m sorry!” you whined, your voice filled with guilt.

his giggle broke through the tension, and you glared at him with a pout. he leaned forward, booping your nose lightly. “i’m kidding, baby,” he said with a grin.

“you’re the worst,” you muttered under your breath.

“and you’re the best,” he shot back smoothly, leaning closer to nuzzle his nose against yours. “now, can we finish this? or are you going to tell me you’ve shaved some random celebrity next?”

“you’re so annoying,” you huffed, grabbing the razor again.

“and you love me,” he teased, his grin so wide it made your heart flutter.

as much as you wanted to argue, you couldn’t deny it.

[1d1195]

The Lottery III

Read The Lottery here | ~4k words

From me: takes place during her second year in town. It's Christmas time 🎄

Warnings: fluffy

Summary: It's truly embarrassing how smitten Harry is with her.

“Please, please, please!”

“No,” his voice was solid, flat, devoid of emotion. Impervious to her pleading it seemed.

She frowned and looked at him with a look that Harry assumed was supposed to be menacing. But it looked about as menacing as a baby bunny could be. “Harry Styles, people will think you’re The Grinch.”

“They already think that, Peach,” he rolled his eyes and moved to the next table check that the ketchup wasn’t completely depleted.

“Then I’ll think you’re The Grinch.”

That seemed to do something to his brain because he paused running around the diner. He looked at her with the same irritation that he always directed at her. The kind that made him annoyed because she wanted two different pancakes. Or that she didn’t wear the proper coat in the snow. Or that her tires needed to be replaced on her car, but she didn’t mind (refused to replace them) because she wasn’t driving very far these days and really, it wasn’t that big of a deal because it probably wasn’t going to snow in the remainder of that March.

Harry shook his head, remembering he was supposed to answer her. “Peach,” he sighed and rubbed his face. “I’ll look ridiculous.” There was no one else in the diner. It was nearly five in the morning. Much too early to have this conversation and even earlier to be having an argument.

But Harry thought she looked so cute. Cold but bright-eyed. “Well, that’s why I came now to ask. No one will know it’s you. We’ll park your car at my house, and you’ll tell everyone you have an appointment in the city. You’ll look unrecognizable.”

He stared at her for another moment before he turned to the coffee pot that he was brewing to make it cold for her. She was hours too early so it wouldn’t be cold. Her last pitcher was used up yesterday. Which only made him grumpier that he didn’t have what she liked. On top of being asked to do her ridiculous task. The silence was deafening. She smiled sweetly at him. “I’ll order regular pancakes for a week,” she offered.

He rolled his eyes. Maybe because he knew that he would still make her stupid pancakes and two omelets if she asked. “If anyone finds out s’me, I’ll tell them y’drugged me, Peach.”

“That’s very reasonable. While I’m asking for things, is it possible, I could borrow your oven for cookies and your coffee burners for hot chocolate?” She batted those pretty eyelashes at him, and he wondered just how obvious it was to her that he would do anything she asked of him.

“Y’know... I don’t do the whole town celebration thing,” he reminded her turning back to the coffee pot because if he looked at her any longer, he was going to tell her everything and this was not the time nor the place. She also wasn’t someone he wanted to know all his dark secrets. She was the one person that didn’t look at him with pity and he wanted that to remain true for as long as he could manage.

She frowned. “Well, I do,” which made next to no sense because at the time of asking she had only lived through one town Christmas—kind of. She wasn’t part of the traditions at all but somehow inserted herself into helping as much as she could. “No one will know it’s you,” she reminded him. “And I know you want to help,” she shrugged casually. “Can our pancake deal start tomorrow I’m desperate for peaches and white chocolate chips,” she dropped into her seat.

He didn’t answer, but he assumed she knew he was putty in her hands. “Coffee’s not cold yet,” he grumbled pouring her a hot cup.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to make me cold coffee anyway,” she shrugged and reached over the counter for the sugar and cream only for Harry to smack it away as was their own little tradition. “Oh!” She squealed and hopped out of her seat rushing out the front door as if she saw a ghost.

Harry blinked and hurried after her in case there was some kind of issue or if she saw something troublesome that would get her killed or kidnapped. Not that anything of the sort ever happened in their little town. But leave it to her to find something dangerous. “What—”

Her head was tilted nearly at a sharp forty-five-degree angle looking at the moon, dipping lower in the sky. Some of the stars were still out, and the sky was just starting to turn the slightest light blue. “Isn’t she pretty?” She sighed dreamily. Harry felt a warmth spread through his chest. The same kind that did any time she had him look at the moon. The awe, the fascination, the unadulterated innocence on her face made his heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, Peach, s’lovely,” he agreed and waited twenty seconds to let her stare. “S’cold out,” he reminded her because she of course didn’t put her coat back on for this expedition. Gently, he placed his hand on her lower back. “C’mon,” he encouraged. “I gotta make y’some pancakes.”

Harry swore she continued looking over her shoulder as he ushered her inside which just made him fall a little harder for her.

*

The day of the town’s Christmas festival Harry did what she said. He talked about his appointment in the city (that he didn’t have) all morning. When nearly everyone he ever knew was in town, he drove his car to her house where no one would notice it was there. He dressed in a red suit, and she drove him over in her own car dressed in an elf ensemble. Had Harry known she had a part to play he may have agreed a little faster. She was adorable, the shoes curled into a swirl at the toes, she was decked in red and green from head to toe and sure Santa was a symbol of Christmas but she was the near embodiment of it as well.

The second she stepped out of the car after all the little ones shouted excitedly for Santa, she pulled up the rear carrying a bag of candy canes over her shoulder.

“Miss Peach! You’re an elf too!?” Someone called when they realized the bookstore owner was in tow with Santa himself.

“You know Santa?!”

She giggled as Harry threw his voice and laughed at the little ones in awe over the pretty girl. They were right to be in awe. She was lovely. Making this happen. Picking someone certifiably Grinch-like. Yet he did it anyway.

“Santa’s sleigh is being fixed a couple towns over, so I picked him up and he was so grateful he agreed to come say hi to everyone! One of the elves gave me a costume to borrow for the day,” she explained. “Santa is going to see if he can get everything you all want, if you’ve been good.”

So, Harry took his seat on a chair that was much too poofy and frilly. It was set among a huge sack of mini presents, a mailbox for letters, and she dumped her bag of candy canes into a bucket. There were cookies and hot chocolate at the table beside the setup, run by her employees, curtesy of Harry’s oven and coffee maker. She stood beside Harry the whole afternoon as so many little ones came to tell Santa what they wanted.

What was worse was it was fun. Harry actually enjoyed being Santa. The little ones were so funny, and she was adorable dressed in her little get up. “Miss Peach,” one little boy whispered toward the end of their little event. He waved her over several yards away from Santa’s chair.

Naturally, she hurried over, leaving Harry with a pair of nine-year-old girls who wanted a lot of makeup and dolls. She greeted his parents who smiled knowingly at the cute bookstore owner with a little baby in a stroller beside the boy who waved her over.

“Is that the real Santa?” He asked gulping.

She smiled. “I got him off the sleigh and everything.”

He looked down nervously. She knew him from her story hours and going to the bookstore to do crafts related to the book of the week. “I’m kind of scared of Santa, Miss Peach,” he whispered.

“Oh,” she pouted. “There’s nothing to be scared of,” she whispered. “He’s very nice and just wants to know what you want for Christmas.”

“Will you go with me?” He asked.

She nodded and held his hand. “Hey Santa, Caden here is a little nervous,” she told Harry. Behind the hat, wig, glasses, a white beard and a firm pillow tucked into his shirt, it was next to impossible to know it was Harry.

How anyone couldn’t tell those pretty green eyes belonged to someone other than Harry was ridiculous to her, but whatever. She was eternally grateful he was doing this for her. Honestly, she couldn’t fathom why he would do it for her, but she wasn’t going to question it long enough for him to back out.

There was a kind smile beneath the white beard and mustache. One that she had only seen a handful of times. When it appeared on his face in the diner it was nearly always hidden from view—but every once in a while, she would see his pink lips turn up in a genuine smile. Happy over a joke someone made. Or how a little one told Miss Peach they had a crush on her.

She wondered if Caden knew how lucky they were to witness such a soft, beautiful sight. “S’that so?” He chuckled.

Caden tucked himself behind her leg and she bent to scoop the six-year-old into her arms. “Santa is a good friend of mine, he just wants to make sure you get what you want,” she assured him. “Do you want me to tell him?” She asked stepping closer toward Harry. He hid his face against her shoulder. Gently, she stroked the back of his head. “I used to be scared of Santa too,” she whispered. “But we’re friends now, right Santa?” She asked glancing over. Harry nodded, waiting patiently. Letting her do her thing. “Here,” she walked to Harry, wedged herself between Harry’s legs and perched on his thigh, stretching her own legs out so she wasn’t putting her full weight on his body. She sat Caden on her lap facing her and Harry.

Poor Caden looked like he was about to have a breakdown.

Harry knew what Caden was feeling almost at the exact same time. Other than a touch on her back or smacking her hand away, Harry hardly ever touched her. Now, her whole pretty butt was on his thigh. Had he known this would have happened, he wouldn’t have argued with her at all. She was so casual about it, as if she sat herself in his lap all the time. How was this not a moment in time that caused for absolute shock for her? Was he breathing? It felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Hey,” she smiled sweetly, encouragingly. “I’m right here, tell us about what you want Santa to bring,” she ran a hand across his cheek. “Do you want... a Lego set?” She asked. He glanced up shyly at Santa and nodded. Harry smiled behind his beard reassuringly. “And a skateboard?” She continued guessing what a little boy his age would want. He nodded again. “And... a unicorn stuffie?” She smirked.

He frowned and shook his head. Which made the two of them laugh. “My sister likes unicorns, not me,” he told them. Harry nodded.

“So, a skateboard for you and a unicorn for—” Without missing a beat, Harry watched her mouth the name of the younger sibling. “Lily.”

“You know Lily?” He asked, pure wonder in his eyes. Staring up at Harry like he was the most amazing person in the world. Harry did think he was the Grinch because his heart truly melted and it was all thanks to the pretty, peachie girl.

“Santa knows everything,” she whispered. “Can you say thank you?”

“Thank you... Santa?” Caden asked, hopping down from her lap and turning bravely toward him. She stepped away from his legs which made him feel cold and grumpy again. But he remembered to stay focused on Caden.

“Yes, lad?” Caden ushered him closer waving his hand toward him. Harry leaned down further so Caden could whisper in his ear.

“Can you help me get a present for Miss Peach?”

Harry looked at her as she gathered a candy cane, a cookie, a present, and a cup of hot chocolate for Caden to take. “Absolutely.”

*

When Santa left, Harry magically returned with his car and headed to the diner to check on things. “You missed all the fun Harry,” she sighed stepping behind the counter and heading for the coffee pots filled with hot water for her hot chocolate stand. “I brought Santa in and everything.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and stuck his arm out to stop her. “Did he tell you he was bring y’coal?” he rolled his eyes and turned her physically by her shoulders before she reached the coffee pots. “Get out,” he said.

“Miss Peach getting coal?” Edith laughed. “Harry, don’t be ridiculous.”

She smiled, a knowing smirk on her lips. “Can I please have more hot water for hot chocolate?” She asked.

He sighed, like it was a big to do. But he did it anyway. She was getting really good at reading his eyes. She could see the slight amusement. Or what she hoped was amusement. Maybe it was just more annoyance, but the light shining a little differently in his irises. “I’ll keep it coming,” he shrugged and handed her two of the coffee pots.

“You are like Santa himself,” she grinned and carefully walked out with the hot liquid. Someone held the door for her and Harry headed to the kitchen, smirking once he was behind the cover of the wall away from the rest of the diner.

*

Christmas morning in a small town was unlike anything she had ever experienced. It was literally a Hallmark movie. There was a thin layer of snow on the ground. Against the lights it was the stuff of dreams. She walked through the quiet town, her second one in town but the first one she had ever spent away from her family.

“Peach?” Harry called. He was taking a bag out behind the diner to the trash. The door to the back was open to what she imagined was his apartment. She heard it was attached to the diner, but she had never seen beyond it.

She gave a wave and walked toward him. “Merry Christmas, Harry!” She chirped and dove in for a hug. Harry awkwardly wrapped his arms around her and despite his awkwardness, it felt like the best Christmas present he had ever received.

“Merry Christmas,” he hummed. “I thought y’were heading t’your family’s place for the holiday?”

“I did last year, but I thought I would try and start my own traditions. They’re going to be down this weekend actually.”

“Make sure y’bring them by,” he reminded her.

She smiled. “How about you? Any traditions?”

Traditions hadn’t been part of Harry’s vocabulary in ages. But Gemma was coming and that made him immensely happy. Well, as happy as someone as grumpy as he could be. “M’sister is coming around lunch time. I do a Christmas brunch, and a lot of people stop by.”

“Oh, that’s really lovely,” she grinned. “I’m sure you’re busy then and I don’t want to keep you. Have a happy—”

“You’re invited,” he practically blurted. She blinked, surprise coloring her pretty face.

But she recovered quickly and the smile on her mouth returned and made Harry think that even if he never touched her again, he could settle for a smile directed at her. “Really?” She asked. “I don’t want to mess with tradition.”

But that was far from the truth because she had already inserted herself into so many town projects and made the town so much better just by existing. Not to mention she got him to dress as Santa. Tradition flew out the window the moment she stepped foot in the diner.

“S’a whole town thing.”

“Well then, I really have to run because I cannot show up empty handed. Muffins or cupcakes?”

“Y’don’t have to—”

“I’ll make both unless you tell me.”

Harry rolled his eyes and her stubbornness. “Muffins, Peach. Thank you.”

“Christmas looks good on you, Santa,” she nodded. “You’ve got the best smile, Harry,” she waved and headed back the way she came.

*

Her mom always hosted parties and if she didn’t then it was a neighbor, Grandma, or aunt. She became a makeshift hostess and always tried to make herself useful. The second she walked into the diner she was greeted with cheers and Merry Christmases. Honestly, other than it being a holiday and the garland draped around the place, it was no different than walking into the diner any other day. She scurried to the counter where all the food was lining it, the warmers keeping the food hot, just waiting to be devoured. She could hear noise from the kitchen. Without thinking much longer, she stepped behind the counter, set her muffins toward the end of the line of food, and began gathering the plates and silverware to put at the beginning of the line.

The moment he heard clinking, he stepped from the kitchen. “What the he—”

“Oh hi,” she chirped over her shoulder. “Just making myself useful.”

“You’re not supposed to be behind the counter.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s Christmas and I’m helping.”

“I like her,” a woman stepped from behind the kitchen wall as well and smiled with a wave. “I’m Gemma,” she said. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas. Harry’s sister?”

“The one and only,” she had the same pretty smile that Harry did. She wondered who they inherited from. But the smile seemed much more natural on Gemma’s face than Harry’s.

“Peach,” he rubbed a hand over his face. “If y’get hurt, m’insurance doesn’t cover annoying pains in the butt.”

“What a nice thing to say on Christmas,” Gemma rolled her eyes. “How many times did you come back here when Mum told us not to?” Harry turned to the kitchen before he could answer.

She frowned. “I just wanted to help.”

“Don’t worry about it, Harry is just a grump,” she shrugged. “Thank you for the help,” she grinned sweetly. “I’m going to bring Mr. Sour out again but please make yourself at home,” she assured.

People chatted with Gemma for most of the time they ate. She helped Harry carry food out from the kitchen even though he grunted at her in annoyance each time she picked something up. She ignored him making a plate for both herself, and Harry. “Harry come eat,” she held the plates of food in her hands. “Everyone is good for the moment, and you deserve it,” she told him.

He sighed as he always did. Like talking to her was getting a splinter taken out of his hand. He grabbed the plates from her and walked toward the side of the diner where there were two seats open. “Miss Peach, these muffins are delicious!”

She grinned. “Thank you, an old family recipe,” she said sweetly and plucked a piece of bacon from her plate. Harry headed back to the kitchen and she pouted but he returned quickly holding a cup of coffee for her, cooled and iced as always. “Thank you.” Harry sat across from her eating silently, but it was comfortable. Peaceful even. The chatter around them was comforting. “You do this every year?” She asked. He nodded. “It’s nice, Harry, thank you for inviting me,” she grinned. He didn’t look up from his food, but he nodded again, and she was certain the corners of his mouth twitched in an upwards direction.

Harry was dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a dark green button down. It brought out the gold specks in his eyes and enhanced how green they were in general. It was her favorite look on him. Given he only seemed to have about six or so shirts in total. His hair was styled just so, so it wouldn’t fall in his face. “Let me get a picture of you and Gemma.”

“No,” he shook his head sipping his orange juice.

“Oh, come on, Harry. She’s your sister.”

He shook his head. “I don’t do pictures.”

She rolled her eyes. “Gemma, would you like a picture with Harry?” She called across the room.

“God, would I!” She hurried over and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind. She kissed the side of his face and he rolled his eyes but the smile was a little harder to hide that time around. She pulled her phone from her pocket and held it out to get a picture of the siblings.

“Say Merry Christmas!”

Harry smiled, genuinely. Which made her utterly happy. Gemma kissed his cheek again. “I love you, little brother.”

He shook his head as she hurried back to her conversation across the room. Harry cleared his throat and reached into his pocket pulling out a small box, wrapped perfectly, and slid it across the table toward her.

Of course, her gifts for everyone in town that had made her feel so welcomed were at her house. She planned on giving them out at the diner the following morning. Let the day be about family. So she was unprepared and felt terrible that she had nothing for Harry.

But she was also so shocked she simply gaped. “Harry,” she managed. “I don’t—”

“S’not a big deal,” he shrugged. “Caden... he wanted t’make sure y’got a gift. I asked him t’help me pick it out. Told him Santa left a note here since he knows y’here a lot,” he explained. “S’really from Caden.” But it wasn’t. Not really. It was from Harry. The grumpy diner owner who made her pancakes, gave her a hard time because she was a nuisance. “Go on,” he encouraged. She pulled the paper off, revealing a small brown box.

“Your gift is at home,” she told him.

“Y’didn’t need t’get me anything,” he rolled his eyes.

“Of course I did, Harry—”

“Will y’jus’ open it, Peach? Y’making it a huge deal and honestly, s’hardly anything.”

She opened the lid and inside was a square piece of cardboard. A delicate chain draped along the middle of it, holding the small crescent moon charm at the center of a pair of matching earrings. “Harry,” she brushed her finger on the charm. “This is too much,” she frowned knowing that he probably spent way too much on someone who was a pain in his ass.

“Y’do a lot for this town,” he shrugged. “S’the least Caden could do.”

She tilted her head at him. “Thank you,” she plucked the necklace off the cardboard and quickly secured it around her neck. Her ears already had Christmas presents jingling and dangling from the lobes, but the necklace looked delicate and pretty against the top of her shirt. “I’ll bring your gift tomorrow.”

“Whatever helps y’sleep at night, Peach. Y’want more food?” He asked standing and grabbing her plate at the same time.

She played with the charm at the base of her throat and nodded. “Please," she wondered if Harry was aware of how much she truly liked him. How sweet he really was despite the front he put up in front of everyone else. But she supposed for today, since it was Christmas, she would let him play his grumpy self and enjoy the thoughtful gift he bought for her and the yummy food he made.

She hoped this tradition would stick around every year.

--

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[konigofmyheart]

christmas prep with könig

gn!reader, fluff with one innuendo/suggestive comment

zimtsterne: little cinnamon star cookies ⭐️

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

setting up for christmas with könig is truly a special experience. it’s always been one of the nicer memories from his childhood. it wasn’t anything grand, but his mother always made sure they had a little magic, be it in the form of a little wooden toy, slightly burnt cookies, or little snowmen that left könig with stinging hands from the freezing snow. that magic is something he’s always held on to, and of course he’d want to share it with you, too.

it starts early. before you even wake up, he’s already made his homemade hot chocolate, and his zimtsterne are freshly out of the oven, cooling on a rack on the counter, and he’s hauled all 13 christmas storage boxes out to the living room. you pad into the kitchen, drowsily and halfheartedly complaining that he started without you. it’s hard to be even pretend annoyed, though, when his eyes are sparkling with excitement like that. plus, “that’s the boring part, liebling, i only want you to have fun!” he insists as he places a loaded mug of hot chocolate (a giant dollop of cream with cinnamon dusting the top floating in your mug) and warm zimtsterne stacked on your favorite holiday plate. he’s easily infecting you with twice the christmas spirit, the way he eagerly goes on and on about all there is to do today: picking up the tree, dressing it up, then decorating the entire house top to bottom so everything sparkles and glows.

the moment you finish your breakfast he’s at the door, almost wiggling like a dog eager for a walk. after you pass inspection (i.e. his excessive bundling where he layers your coat, then gently slides your gloves onto your hands, then wraps your neck and half of your face with your scarf, and thennn fixes your hat onto your head to keep you warm for the arduous five second walk to the car), you’re on your way to the christmas tree farm. you two sing along to christmas classics on the drive, obviously dedicating “all i want for christmas is you” to each other. as you walk up to the lot of trees, you’re still smiling at the way könig always attempts the high note just for your amusement, and he gives your gloved hand a squeeze, hoping you forget his creaky high note as quick as possible.

he swears he doesn’t like the way the old lady who owns the lot gushes over him, saying how “such a big boy must be so helpful, so good to you”. his ears flushing pink tell a different story though, even more so when you agree with the lady before the two of you walk over to the rows of trees, and there’s only a handful that are taller than him. she playfully shouts out a “gosh, if only i was 40 years younger and 10 times luckier… ” and practically cackles at the way he pretends not to hear, stepping behind some trees (that definitely don’t obscure him) as he flushes even further. he’d have convinced you he didn’t like the compliments, were it not for the way he makes even more of a show than usual of loading your tree (the biggest on the lot, naturally) on top of his giant suv. he’s practically puffed up with pride as he helps you into the car, earning even more hoots of praise from the tree lady (“they don’t make them like that anymore! you hold on tight to him now, ya hear?”) and some giggles from you.

now in your driveway, you go in first so as to guide the tip of the tree through the door, with könig doing the heavy lifting. all’s well until the tree gets a bit more than halfway in, the branches so full that they catch on the doorframe, even with it being wrapped up with netting! your worried “hm, I don’t think it’s gonna fit, baby” gets instantly answered with a determined “it’ll fit, schatzi. i’ll make it fit” from könig. now, of course you’re a grown adult and not some immature 14 year old, but come on, you’re only human! you look at each other over the stuck tree, your eyebrows raised meaningfully and a dumb smile tugging at your lips. he really can’t stop himself from flushing yet again, huffing a “don’t say it” as he rams the tree through the doorway, thiiis close to toppling over onto the tree with his momentum. only his quick reflexes saved your tree from becoming a pancake.

this isn’t your first christmas together; you have the process down to a perfect rhythm. you get a head start while he reheats his chocolate, bringing your mugs over to the coffee table to serve as your tree decorating fuel. together you make quick work of the ornaments, tinsel and lights (he handles the upper level while you access the bottom level far better than he could). step ladders become irrelevant as long as he’s around. like always, your favorite ornament and his are right next to each other, front and center. “my star placing the star” he lovingly murmurs against your ear before picking you up so you can place the star at the very tip top of your tree. you laugh at his cheesy line, his fingers totally accidentally tickling your sides as he turns you around against him, his eyes crinkling in that special way reserved just for you. he swallows your giggles with a reverent kiss, and though you’re both covered in pine needles, tinsel scraps, and glitter, your mouths taste of chocolate and warmth and love. <3

[josushishushi]

A Love to Lean On | Mingyu x Reader

flulf, comfort | 748 words

Mingyu stepped out of the elevator, his smile unwavering as he jingled his keys in his hand. He was finally home after a long day at work, energized by the thought of seeing his one and only. Usually, she’d be waiting in the living room, curled up on the couch with her favorite show or rushing into his arms the second he walked through the door.

But tonight felt… different.

The apartment was dark, the curtains drawn, and the usual warm, comforting aura was replaced with a somber stillness. His smile faltered slightly as he called out, "Y/n? I'm home!"

No answer.

Mingyu frowned. He slipped off his shoes, setting down his bag carefully, and checked the living room—empty. His heart started to beat faster, worry seeping into his mind.

“Y/n? Where are you?” he called again, softer this time, heading towards the bedroom.

He noticed the faint sliver of light spilling through the cracked door. Mingyu pushed it open gently, his eyes scanning the dim room.

There she was. Lying on her side, facing away from him, her small frame curled up under the blanket. Relief washed over him, thinking she was asleep, and a soft smile returned to his face.

He stepped closer, but as the stillness enveloped him, he caught the sound—soft, muffled sobs. His heart sank.

"Y/n?" he said cautiously, his voice tinged with concern.

No response.

He sat down carefully on the edge of the bed, his hand hovering over her shoulder, unsure if he should touch her. He leaned forward slightly, trying to get a look at her face. “Y/n… what’s wrong?” he whispered.

It took a moment, but she shifted slightly, turning to face him. Mingyu's heart clenched as he saw her red, tear-streaked face. Before he could say anything, she sat up and threw herself into his arms.

“Y/n…” he murmured, holding her tightly. He cradled the back of her head, one hand stroking her hair in soothing motions. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m here. What happened?”

Her sobs quieted just a little as she felt his warmth surround her, grounding her. She took a shaky breath before she spoke, her voice barely audible.

“I… I couldn’t do it today, Gyu,” she started, her words trembling. “I was so drained and stressed. I just couldn’t go to work. And everything… it’s too much.”

Mingyu’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t interrupt, gently encouraging her to continue.

“My coworkers…” she sniffled. “They always have something to say about me. It’s like—no matter what I do—it’s never enough. And what if I mess up tomorrow? What if they fire me? Then what? How will I live? How will I even—”

Mingyu shushed her softly, pulling her even closer as if he could shield her from the world. “I’ve been telling you to quit, haven’t I?” His voice was gentle but firm.

She pulled back slightly to look at him, tears still welling in her eyes. “How will I live then, Mingyu? Huh? Just quit and what? I can’t afford to just—”

“Live off of me,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

She shook her head quickly. “You know I can’t do that, Gyu… I don’t want to be a burden.”

He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away her tears as he looked straight into her eyes. “You’re not a burden. You never have been. I want this to be the last time I see you crying alone like this, okay? I mean it.”

Her lips quivered, but she remained quiet, listening as he continued.

“Besides,” he smiled softly, leaning his forehead against hers. “You’ve always wanted to open a coffee shop, right? Let’s start there. I’ll help you. We’ll do it together, Y/n. Okay?”

Her tears flowed again, but this time they were mixed with relief and a fragile hope. “…M’kay, Gyu,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” he said immediately, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But promise me one thing—next time you feel like this, call me. I don’t care where I am or what I’m doing. I’ll drop everything and come to you, okay?”

“…Okay,” she murmured, burying her face in his chest once more, clinging to him as if he were her anchor in a turbulent storm.

Mingyu smiled faintly, holding her just as tightly. “Good. Now let’s get you to bed, hmm? Tomorrow, we’ll figure everything out. Together.”

“Thank you gyu… love you…”

“I love you too”