#OMG the first post on here it's been.. a year but i finally made something ksksks

[afterglowsainz]

so it goes… | carlos sainz

summary: carlos has the biggest crush on the famous up and coming actress but she doesn’t know who he is

fc: anya taylor-joy

warnings: this is my first smau so plsss tell me what you think <3 i made it a bit long cause i’m use to write detailed stories but is worth it i swear!! also english is not my first language so there might be mistakes

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ynusername life lately 🧚🏼‍♀️

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user1 she’s so pretty ughhh

user2 y/n please give me just once chance i’m beggin

user3 simping respectfully

carlossainz55 que linda! (so pretty!)

user4 hello??

user5 ariana what are you doing here 😭

bffusername literally my wife 😮‍💨

ynusername me and you forever 🤭

user6 mother

liked by bffusername, charlesleclerc and others

carlossainz55 great weekend all in all 🏆 podium and good points for the team, ready for the next! 🔜

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user4 let’s gooo smooth operator‼️

user7 forza ferrari 🐎

charlesleclerc great job! double podium next race 👊🏼

user8 brilliant drive carlos!!

user9 VAMOOOOS (let’s go)

user5 okay we see y/n’s best friend in the likes 👀

user10 i think she’s a ferrari fan!

landonorris congrats on the podium or whatever 🙄

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ynusername emma is now on streaming platforms !!! go watch it 🫶🏽

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user1 and they call her the it girl !!!

user2 favorite movie of the year 💞

user3 y/n y/l/n future oscar winner‼️

bffusername GO WATCH MY WIFE’S MOVIE OR ELSE

ynusername you heard her!

carlossainz55 loved the movie!

user4 okay but are we believing he actually saw a romantic period piece or?? 🤨

user5 idk why i kinda believe it solely on the fact that he’s obsessed with y/n 😭

user6 i don’t see the appeal, she’s not all that :/

user4 now i know you did NOT just said that about THE Y/N Y/L/N

user7 y/n drop another movie i’ve already seen this one a thousand times :( (liked by carlossainz55)

likes by charlesleclerc, carlossainz55 and others

ynusername italian nights 🧿

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bffusername my girlfriend the prettiest of prettiest 🥰

user1 picture at a church and partying with måneskin? ohhh she’s cool cool

user2 carlos i understand you completely

carlossainz55 beautiful!

ynusername thank you! 💕

user3 omg did she actually??

user4 somebody make sure carlos is still alive and breathing pls

user5 finally! my boy has been in the trenches for monthsss

landonorris 👀

user6 now lando what do you know??

(ynusername has started following carlossainz55)

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carlossainz55 summer break 🏁

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user1 well hello there

user2 weird way to ask me to marry you but ofc🤭

user3 not carlos immediately posting a thirst trap after yn followed him 😭

user4 thirst trap seems a bit much…

user3 him just casually posting the most earth shattering hottest pictures out of nowhere??

user4 okay you may have a point

user5 post a warning or something next time jesus

user6 I AM ON MY KNEES PLEASE

user7 dinner would be served, house would be cleaned, kids on bed, anything he wants

ynusername 🥰 (liked by carlossainz55)

carlossainz55 🫶🏽

user8 girl me too

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yourusername beautiful beautiful madrid 🤍

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user1 omg you’re in my city!!!

user2 someone send this to carlos quick!

user3 you’re so beautiful 😻

user4 carlossainz55 my guy this is your chance

user5 you’re STUNNING 🤩

carlossainz55 i need to show you all the nice places🫶🏽 (liked by yourusername)

yourusername omg please!! i need a local tour guide

carlossainz55 😊

user6 omg is this the beginning of something???

user7 i’m shipping them already 🤭

user8 someone check on carlos please‼️

[thatdeadaquarius]

HELP I JUST HAD A THOUGH

WHAT IF

What if....

Blunt reader became a harbinger

I have NO idea how that would go but im here for the crack lol

I BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS ONE-

(and to use this gif more importantly they're all so hot here lol)

Sun: Reader (you/they/them), Blunt Language AU :D

Orbit: Headcanons-ish, crack treated srsly (yes im using ao3 tags atp)

Stars: Harbingers!

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: none known & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

SO thought I’d update anyone missing out bc of the new year but-

I made this silly thing called Blunt Language AU, that was my 1st post for this blog/fandom actually! :D

I’ll link it here, but TLDR: it’s just our modern speech sounding “ancient” to the Teyvatians, who speak really flowery/fluffy/lots of context in comparison!

That’s all you rlly need to know to read this I think, so enjoy! :)

☆

u fall into Genshin Impact, and Snezhnaya is where you land first type of energy lol

weird golden star falling from the sky? that sounds like a prophecy the Tsaritsa knows abt alright

so they sent Childe, one of the friendliest (if not The Friendliest) Harbinger, to see if it was a valid claim you’d finally descended,

and ofc as soon as the redhead heard you try and talk to him, he knew the claims by the small village nearby (who had taken u in from the cold weather/taken care of you) were legit

pantalone did manage to squeeze some examples of what you’d possibly sound like into his head before he left so while Childe personally has a tough time talking to you, it doesn't mean he’s not willing to try!! >:)

he mostly just kept asking questions forever until he understood what you meant, and as soon he got u were asking abt the Tsaritsa, the other Harbingers, himself, even how to get Sneznayan-made clothes lol

he was like: 👀👀👀???!!!!

it wasn't so much recruitment at first as it was “omg the exalted one wishes to learn abt us, the Tsaritsa and her Harbingers? abt me?? well would your highness like to come to our palace perchance???!!!!”

= have u ever been seduced and worshipped by a god and her country?? would you like to- ??? ← Childe actually

and with that convinces you to come straight to the Harbingers/Tsaritsa’s very home

No, you’re not just spoiled.

No, you’re not just pampered.

You are cosseted and coveted.

The Tsaritsa makes her first in person appearance to the people in decades to personally announce your return, and to get a festival going to literally parade you into the capital lol

And tbh it was kind of shocking how quickly the people of Snezhnaya are able to whip out the party supplies, within days of traveling via horses/sleds/carriage/trains all kinds of transportation, u arrived at the capital in full swing of a parade for you

The Tsaritsa herself in what looks like a genshin-ified kokoshnik, the elaborate headress draped with a veil so thin it looks like frost covering her face,

flocked on either side by her harbingers in full (kinda goth) ceremonial outfits waiting on your arrival too

needless to say you are properly smitten intimidated

and you stay nervous around them for the first few days or so,

that is before you run into the weekly, what you would call “family dinner nights”, but they call “dinner reports”…

in which Childe, the only one you’d been comfortable enough around to be a bit more genuine to, and surprisingly the only one to quickly adapt to your speech after traveling with you for days, would translate for you what tf you were saying to them vs. what everyone at the table was saying to you/around you

you would also like to propose other titles for these weekly dinner meetings you’re invited to, aka “family feud dinner night/family fight night/harbinger on harbinger hate night/fruit on fruit crimes, if you will” 💀

the Tsaritsa is just peacefully talking to you abt any and everything, bc ofc Pierro’s on her right, and ur on her left

(she and Pierro are surprisingly soft spoken, very polite, and able to say something interesting/take an interest in whatever subject you all end up on)

u don't think you've ever been more comfortable and on such equal footing around ppl sm older than you (what are older ppl to you, but to them ur literally fucking eldritch with how ancient u are, and u can tell with how they treat u like it lmao)

hard cut back to the rest of the table:

an argument that just gets louder and louder has broken out between Childe, Dottore, La Signora, and Pantalone abt who should get free time with you first/get to do smth with you first as you get over ur adjustment period here, Childe has taken his butter knife to throw and just barely missed Dottore’s eye, and it is now embedded in the back of his fancy chair (the servants placing down dinner courses just move abt w/the most bored expressions on their faces)

(u send half the table if this group gets out of hand and u just: “Please shut the fuck up, each of ur comebacks take 30 minutes and it’s killing me” 💀 bc they're the most likely to understand u too, even Pierro/Capitano/Pulcinella chuckle a little, and u think the Tsaritsa smirked under her veil)

ur honestly too scared to see what Scarmouche, Sandrone, and Arlecchino are arguing about, because they're arguing so silently further down the table. They have murder in their eyes.

Columbina and Capitano are having a peaceful collab over weapons, armor, and clothing to offer you, Pulcinella is close enough to both participate in that convo and in you, Pierro, and the Tsaritsa’s convos too

by the 2nd week you've decided to choose chaos, and get them to play board games together sometimes (they cant all make it all the time, tbh u don't know if u can handle that either) but groups of them will play at a time

u remembered early on what a dick Dottore was, and sentenced asked if he’d like to play this new board game called “Monopoly” from ur world with Childe, Pantalone, Pierro, Arlecchino, La Signora, and Scaramouche all together :)

(so what ur trying to bring khaenri’ah part 2 down on his head as punishment?? u owe scara and collei that at least)

Columbina is more than happy to help get you Harbinger-like clothes to wear since ur so interested in the style!! (yes yesss get converted, she already has a title picked out for you)

she also giggles anytime u talk abt whether u like an outfit or not, bc u just “no thank you I’d rather wear a trash bag than that shirt, but lets try another?”

meanwhile the tailors in the background u could literally edit them to one of those videos where it just zooms in on their faces with a vine boom of shock

like Pierro, ur unranked, just above the other Harbingers really, as it wouldn't do to make you the 12th Harbinger or smth

the names they gave you being, “The Playwright” or “The Renaissance” or even “Drammaturgo”

(pls anyone who speaks Italian correct if I'm wrong ToT )

ok but the first time, unsurprisingly, one of them got snappy with you, likely Scara I would think,

Scaramouche, pissy: “And what shall we do if it appears our almighty god is perhaps a descender who is entirely human? Why I dare say you’d be transgressing on privileges that were never yours to begin with!”

Every other Harbinger, the Tsaritsa herself, the servants, the frost on the walls: 😶😦😨😶‍🌫️

You, unbothered, still eating and fully expecting this moment: “I don't want to hear it from someone who has god-mommy issues. You shouldn’t have an opinion about me, ur biased.”

yeah, so obviously, they’re emotionally all attached now whether they know it or not, and this was of course the moment they realized they're god would fit in so perfectly here

(the other nations are going to have to pry you from Snezhnaya from their cold dead hands, esp since u now have legal deniability to visit bc ur technically a Harbinger, only commanded by her majesty lol)

(Scaramouche, Arlecchino, and Sandrone were fighting about who gets the room nearest to your quarters lol)

(Capitano won, somehow??)

☆

sorry ive been slow lately guys, been just trying to work on alllll the fics these past weeks/days/however long its been??

anyway had the shift from hell last week so wish me luck with work this week if u see this 😭

hope u enjoyed this old ask/crack treated srsly post orah!! :D

Safe Travels,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit

@kiyomi-uchiha777

[sugarverse]

Hiii! I was wondering if I could request either long or short fic about Tenya Iida. Likes it can be set in a modern setting where's he's a senior college student who's majoring in business and he has to take one more class to get his degree. It just so happened that the class is in the art building, and it is figure drawing (aka nude drawing) . Since he's just now hearing of the extra class he has to take, he's suddenly shocked when the model is an old friend of his from back home, whom he had a childhood crush on. Not only does his feelings for her come back, but he also has to have 1 on 1 section with the model for educational purposes. I kinda want it to be smut and fluff or however you see it fit. Anyway, I hope it's enough+

hi babe! omg I love this idea I kinda went a lil crazy and made it way too long. I hope u enjoy :)!!

𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙣 𝙏𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

word count: 3.5k

mentions of: This is really just the fluff portion of it, kinda suggestive bc he pops a boner and leads to sex in part two. I think I’m going to make a third part simply so the two of you can go on a genuine date andsotheresmoreiidaxblackreaderouthere.

a/n: hells yeah that’s enough, hopefully I did what ya asked and so sorry I went overboard I have serious problems. here’s the smut part bc a 6.7k fic is doing too damn much but i can’t stfu my fault gang

moodboard here!

Tenya Iida.

4th year, Senior in college majoring in International Business and minoring in Spanish at Angelwood College of Arts and Sciences.

The visual arts building had only been a few minutes away from the business side of campus, which he gladly enjoyed the walk. This spring all he needed to finish was two gen ed classes, the rest revolved around his major and minor. His counselor helped set up his ‘missing’ classes before winter break considering he had to fly back to Japan to see his family for the holidays. He was ecstatic to learn all he needed was an art class with lab and a communications class. 

When he asked what the class entailed, all he was met with was “beginner artists learning anatomy.” It didn’t sound difficult, just draw what you see. It would be nice to try something new anyway. He was not much of an artist but like all things Tenya does, he planned to give this class his all. The first week had been pretty easy, learning how to draw what you see with the use of models, shapes, and lines. Nothing too hard to follow. He would practice drawing his friends on the sketchpad he bought specifically for the class as a form of studying in the free time he had.

He neverminded it for the most part, excelling his knowledge in different countries in his free time to get better at his major. Sure they could teach you the technical way to do things, but in the end, everyone is still human. It would be inconsiderate to do business with a country and know little to nothing about their culture! It took almost two weeks for him to finally be able to even start the art project anyway.

As time went on and the January snow grew less and less, it was time to start their first real project of the semester. One on One figure drawing. The class needed to fill out a form explaining their free hours due to the limited art space and everyone's different schedules. Tenya happily filled it out when it was posted, continuing to work on class work from the library so that the lecture room could also be used for said project.

Their professor had explained that in-person class would remain on Mondays and Thursdays. It just worked out better for the models and students to have so much space.

He made the small walk over to the arts building for his last class of the day, a small shine in his glasses as he entered the white light of the room. The walls were anything but bare, artwork and unfinished projects sat in every corner of the room. Paint racks, canvases big and small, even stacks of unused clay. There was a stool sitting on a small platform in the middle of the room, assuming where the model will sit. 

He stood next to the stool for a moment, looking up at the grey February sky through the skylight. The natural lighting was great, almost like a spotlight. He adjusted the lights in the room a moment, dimming them slightly so the white light hadn’t been so harsh on his eyes. He headed over to a more organized table, setting out the art supplies how he liked. He knew he was early, but he wanted to make a good first impression. What’s better than being on time?

He pulled out his laptop, checking that the few assignments for today were done and submitted. A small frown tugged at his lips as he realized he hadn’t finished something completely, typing in the last few answers. He always double checked, technology was reliable.. When it wanted to be. He couldn’t hear the shuffle of slippers against the floor over his typing and frankly, loud thinking. 

He could see someone walk past in a teal robe representing the university's colors. Glancing up from the computer to give the model a proper hello, Tenya opens his mouth to speak but pauses. 

“Y/n?” He asked, almost in a whisper in case he was wrong. A small look of confusion caused him to tilt his head to the side slightly. He hadn’t been able to see you for awhile with such busy schedules, but he knew your silhouette by heart. 

You turn at the sound of your name, mid sliding off the slippers and fumbling with the gold silk of the belt. “Tenya?” You smile, asking as you turn to slide your shoes back on and quickly shuffle your way over to him. He felt his face burn red, frozen in place for a moment with his jaw slack. He stood as if needing to detach from the seat, smiling at your happy demeanor and your quickness to wrap your arms around him. 

“It is you! I know those shoulders from anywhere!” You beamed, feeling his hovering hands slowly place themselves on your back to return the hug. He was very hesitant, simply because you were only in a robe. You pull away, hands resting on your hips and giving him a big smile. “Now what are you doin’ taking a figure drawing class, Mister businessman?”

He let out a sheepish chuckle, “I needed an art credit, W-What are u doing here?” He never had any classes with you at Angelwood, A few honors classes and gym in highschool but other than that, nada. Throughout the course of growing up, your interests drove you to different classes. 

However, classes don't matter when your families are as close as yours and the Iida family. Shared Holidays, playdates, game nights.. It wasn’t like you were some stranger. You both always made time to hang out a few times during the year to catch up without the family just to give a real check on each other. It was his favorite, almost like a mini holiday to talk to you.

He loved spending time with you. You were smart, articulated and incredibly creative. You never took slack from anyone.. Even in middle school he can remember you being the one to stand up and say something when things weren’t right. You were headstrong and determined in anything that you did.. Art majors always get a lot of grief but you never let that deter you. And that was admirable in itself! ..And he had always thought you were so pretty. 

He felt like a kid again, heart feeling as if it’d beat out of his chest at the mere sight of you. It had been around Halloween the last time he saw you, and here it was. Almost Valentine's day.. Still as pretty and bright as he remembered. Your next hangout wasn't for another month or so, so it was nice to see you sooner than that.

“I'm your model, silly!” You head over to the stool, continuing to speak. “The art department asked if I’d help in modeling and I said yes! People were too scared to sign up for the most part. I’m surprised this is the class you picked. Did you want to learn how to draw people?” You slide your slippers off once more, untying the cute bow on your hip that held your robe shut. 

Suddenly the room was very hot and he couldn't breathe. Now his heart really WAS beating out of his chest. He quickly did a 180, shielding his eyes and removing his glasses for extra measure. “WHY– do yoU have.. nothing on underrrrneath?” He croaked, voice cracking as his tone raised slightly.

You tilt your head at such a question, the gears clicking a little later than they should have. “Figure drawing is um.. Nude drawing, Tenya. You didn't know that?” You slide the robe back on, giggling at the flustered man across from you. You could see his shoulders tense, shaking his head slowly.

Now how the fuck could he have missed that.

“I um.. No, I didn't. I thought that it was.. I don't know what I thought. My counselor picked it for me and I.. Most models we've used so far have.. had skin colored undergarments… On.” He let out a nervous laugh, keeping his glasses off. He turns around, cleaning them with the end of his shirt but refusing to look up at you. He needed to mentally prepare his brain to be professional in a situation like this. Not that he minded the glance, he just never thought this would be how..

You prop your feet onto the edge of the stool, interrupting his thought. You held your knees up to your chest so he couldn’t see anything but your bare legs. “Oh Ten, I’m sorry! I can ask someone else to-”

“No! I am perfectly.. capable. It's professional and I can be.. professional..” He put his glasses back on, hand refusing to be steady as he did so. He let out a shaky sigh, smiling at you and finally looking at you once more.

You let out a small laugh at the blush on his cheeks. He was so handsome, but to see him so flustered over little ol’ you? It made your week. “We can start slow, that might help.” you slide the robe down your shoulders, slowly putting your legs back down so he could see your robed torso once more. You stopped at the top of your breasts, letting your collarbone show. “Do you have any specific poses..?” You ask quietly, trying to hold back your amusement.

He sits down, red faced and completely flushed. A nude model.. jeez. From sleepovers to recess, studying together to graduating, and now almost graduating for the final time together. That's something you don’t get to have in every lifetime. But why do these thoughts keep coming back to him now? 

There was no way he could still have romantic feelings for you. He’d never put your friendship at risk like that!

..right?

“I um.. yeah, small.” He cleared his throat, “Could you um.. Could you stand slightly off of the um.. Almost like getting up?” He fumbled over his words, staring at the empty paper as if he could burn the quick image in his brain onto the page to get the embarrassment over with. He sighed once more, trying to focus as he began sketching circles and lines as a starter sketch of the pose he wanted.

“When you need to draw a certain part I'll move it, Sound fair?” You ask, resting one foot onto the stool and one onto the ground. Your hand gripped the seat as your butt sat on the edge, similar to when people do that supposedly hot thing where they throw their head back and pull some weird rope to have water get poured on them. 

It was second nature at this point for people to see you. Of course some of them were flustered and it was pretty awkward at first, but normally not to the point of stuttering and stammering. It wasn’t often that you saw Tenya fall apart, but this was way different. Especially considering you flashed him without warning. He was one of the most endearing people you had ever met, there was no way you would have done that without proper context.

He could only nod in response, not wanting to further make a fool of himself. Lightly tapping the pencil against the table, He looks up at you. “You can um.. re.. remove the top part, y/n..” It was hard to simply draw your arms and collarbone without including the robe, so you might as well rip the band-aid off and start with the top. 

You nod, dropping it happily and letting the robe pull around your hips and between your legs. You close your eyes, facing up toward the skylight in an attempt to make him less nervous. “Sorry for flashing you at first, I would have explained but I assumed you had already known..?” You laugh quietly to yourself at your own mistake. Why would someone like him even take this class if he knew what it actually entailed?

And God, did he feel like a pervert staring at your chest like this. The boner poking his thigh almost immediately didn't help, making it even harder to concentrate. Way to keep composure. He pressed his lips together for a moment before speaking. “I had no idea, I’m sorry for my r..reaction.” He answered, stopping the pencil tapping to actually begin sketching more than just circles and lines. He hadn’t meant to yell, but he felt like he was close to passing out. 

“I think it was a pretty valid one.” You send a reassuring smile his way, seeing him send you one right back. Trying to ease the mood, you look back up at the ceiling and close your eyes to avoid staring at the ugly overcast sky above you. “How was winter break? You get to go home and see your family? How are they?” 

His smile grew wider at your question, scooting under the desk a bit more so that you hopefully wouldn’t notice his body reacting. “They’re great, Tensei is getting married soon,” He sounded excited at the thought alone, incredibly proud of his brother. 

“And my mother has started a hobby making soap, if you can believe it. She sent me some to bring back one that smells like lavender and another that smells like oranges mixed with I believe she said papaya.? She made a coconut smelling one for you– I was going to give it to you the next time we saw each other,” 

The sound of his sketching stopped and started as he spoke, giving your body small glances as he tried to study each part of your upper torso. The way your stomach creased, The way your shoulder was slightly lifted causing your collarbone to be more prominent, the curve of your breasts.. “How was your Holiday, y/n?”

“No way, Tensei is getting married?!” You accidentally stop posing, fully facing him in genuine shock. The robe was still covering your lower half, you had tied the belt to avoid accidentally flashing him again but here we are. You watch his face become even more red, eyes very obviously not meeting yours but still like a deer in headlights. 

You quickly get back to posing how you were, “Sorry Ten, That's amazing!! I hope everything goes smoothly for him and his soon to be wife.. And tell your mommy I said thank you for thinking of me. I can't wait to try it!”

A smile stayed on your lips as you thought about the times you’ve spent in the Iida household. His mother always had the best candles and incense burning, you were positive the soap would be the same. “My family is up to the same old shit, you know them..” You let out a small groan, the holidays weren’t an absolute disaster, but after not being home so long makes you remember why you aren’t going to school anywhere near home. 

“I did get some cool stuff for Christmas though! I got some new clothes and they got me a few art kits. You know, where it teaches you how to crochet? I also have a new diamond painting kit, I haven't opened either yet because it's just been so busy.” You replied, tapping your fingers on the side of the stool where your hand sat. 

You look up once more, this time because the skylight was beginning to be covered in snow. You watched as it fell, thinking back to old times when you and Tenya would spend the last three major holidays with each other. You’d always make sure to trick or treat together, your families have been sharing Thanksgiving for as long as you can remember, and spending the night in your basement on Christmas eve to wait for Santa until you were both too old. Then instead of waiting for Santa, you’d all eat at least one meal together on Christmas day. Sometimes homemade breakfast, other times a small trip to IHOP or Waffle House.

“God damn it.. It’s snowing again..” You let out a small laugh, looking over at him over your shoulder, fingers still tapping away at the base of the stool. “Hey Ten, Do you remember when we used to have those big snowball fights? The one near Red Fern?” 

“Of course I do! You refused to wear any kind of gloves and my mother would make you at least put socks on your hands so you didn’t get frostbite!” The two of you shared a small laugh at the memories of being young and dumb.

“Gloves always made my hands too itchy! They still do– But I kicked your ass in snowball fights with gloves or not.” You retort, a smirk appearing on your face. “Ice queen y/n of everything.” You could remember the insane snowball fights the neighborhood kids would have every. time. It snowed. If there was enough to make a few snowballs, there was enough to start a war. Tenya was always on your team, but it never stopped you from throwing a few his way. The ‘winner’ was King or Queen of the hill and first to sled down, which often enough was you.

“Remember when you almost broke my glasses throwing one right at my face?” He snickered, watching your smirk turn into a small pouty frown. He knew you didn’t mean to, that same day you helped your mom make cookies for him and his family as an apology, even though he wasn’t upset to begin with. But you knew it could have broken his glasses and you would be devastated if you were the reason for it. You were a real sweetheart, even if you had a weird way of showing sometimes.

“Hey! You know that wasn’t on purpose, I felt really bad after! I even let you get me back!” Which was true, but he never aimed for your face. Always a spot on your fluffy coat, never your legs because you hated your pants being wet… and a face shot just felt wrong to him. 

“Yeah, Yeah. I remember that part too,” He smiled to himself. “Those were really good times.. I remember Tensei always bringing us hot chocolate and we’d sit on your porch and draw things in the snow..”

“Oh! And when we’d come back all wet and mom already had spare clothes in her hands because she didn’t want it on the carpet. We’d put on too big clothes just to sit and watch Christmas movies..” You missed those times. But they never really had to stop, you two could have a huge snowball fight after this if you wanted to and the snow stuck. Was he too grown for that? Would it even sound fun to him?

“Do you still watch A Year Without Santa Clause every year?” He asks, breaking your train of thought. You nodded quickly at his question, grinning like a maniac. “Of course I do! And I watch Charlie Brown’s Christmas, Rudolph The Rednosed Reindeer.. And sometimes Spongebob's Christmas Special. Do you still watch old Christmas cartoons?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Don’t wanna ruin tradition.” He answered, pressing his lips together slightly as he stared down at the paper. You can tell he freezes a bit, the sound of his scribbling coming to a stop. He set the pencil down, rubbing the sweat of his hands onto his thighs.

 “You can um.. remOove-..” He quickly cleared his throat, “The rest.” He let out a disappointed sigh at his inability to keep composure. This wouldn't be half the problem it was if it was someone else modeling. But this is you we're talking about. 

“You sure? If you need a minute we can take a break, honey.” You gave him a sympathetic look, still smiling but this time more.. warm. The kind of smile someone gives to another when they genuinely care for them. Or love them for that matter. He adored it, it was the same smile you'd give him when saying he needs to take a break, the same smile you give him when the two of you out to get coffee and catch up. The same smile he's fallen for many, many times. 

But to tell you the truth? It’s driving him crazy. All of this. Was driving him crazy. No matter how hard he tried to be professional, he could stop his wandering mind. You were a goddess. What else was there to do besides take a break and hopefully release some steam in the bathroom or something. Completely inappropriate, but the pain from being hard for so long was starting to cloud the best judgment. 

He looks down at the sketch so far, then back to you as he rubbed his hand upward against his face. It pushed his glasses up, causing them to be crooked when going back down. “I um.. I think I do.. need a minute.” His voice died out as he watched you slide the robe back on, words failing him because couldn’t think completely straight.

© if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot and helps me out. Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

thank you @thecutestgrotto for the banners and thank you @fizzintine for coloring the top pic!

have a good day/night/whatever!

[baekhyunsbestie]

── ❝ truth be told ❞ 🐰ྀི ̟!!

⟢ a pediatrician!baekhyun au req'd by this lovely anonie <3 :') ty baby!

sum: you and baekhyun were college sweethearts, bound by shared dreams of a future together. but when he was accepted to a medical residency program across the country, you kept a secret—you're pregnant. fearing that your news would derail his dream of becoming a doctor, you chose to disappear, raising your daughter alone. three years later, in a new city, you bring your little girl in for a routine check-up, only to discover her pediatrician is none other than baekhyun, her father.

જ⁀➴°⋆ content: 18+/MDNI. 24.2k+ words. omg Hahaha 🫣. baekhyun x f!reader. chanyeol x f!reader. baekhyun x f!oc. lovers to strangers to co-parents to lovers again. angst, slow burn, fluffy, then we get reaaaallll smutty ⟡ pet names, praise kink, body worship, unprotected sex, p in v, bulge kink, creampie, slight breeding kink (y'all should know me by now 🤟🏼😣) ⟡ ALSO! i made a playlist for you guys to vibe out to while you read cus i love u <3 :') its linked in the title!!!

you and baekhyun had once been the epitome of college sweethearts—late-night study sessions that bled into spontaneous adventures, laughter, and whispered dreams of a future together. you were inseparable, his drive to become a doctor and your quiet dream of building a life with him making everything feel so perfect. you could picture it all—the home, the life, the love, knowing you’d be together forever.

during those years, you moved in together. things got serious quickly. talks of marriage, kids, and a future you’d both start building when the time was right were always at the forefront. but as much as you both wanted to dive in right away, you both agreed that you’d wait until baekhyun had at least finished his schooling and residency. it made perfect sense—his dream of becoming a doctor came first, and you were happy to support him, knowing you’d have a lifetime to make it all happen.

you’d completed undergrad together, then post-grad, and now, with your master’s behind you, baekhyun was finishing med school and applying to residency programs. everything seemed to be unfolding just as it should.

but life, as it tends to do, shifted unexpectedly.

when baekhyun’s acceptance letter arrived—the one from his dream residency program across the country—your world tilted, skewed into something unrecognizable. this was his number one pick, the culmination of years of sacrifice and determination. you should’ve been ecstatic, screaming with joy for him, for his future. but instead, a foreign weight settled low in your stomach, twisting into something unnameable.  

you’d only just found out, barely two days ago. pregnant. the word clung to you like a vice, heavy and suffocating. you hadn’t planned for this, hadn’t even considered it a possibility. and yet, here it was—undeniable. that stupid test, its second line blaring back at you like a neon sign, mocking the life you thought you had under control.  

you stared at it, willing the line to fade, to disappear, to become a cruel trick of your imagination. but it didn’t. and the next test didn’t either. nor the one after. five little sticks, five blaring truths. undeniable. inescapable.

you didn’t want to hold him back. not when his dreams were so close. not when the future he had worked so hard for was finally within his grasp.

so you made a decision. you couldn’t tell him. you couldn’t bear to see the guilt and the pain in his eyes as he would undoubtedly sacrifice his dreams for you and the baby. you thought it was the right thing to do, that you were doing him a favor by disappearing, by cutting off all contact. 

you had moved to a new city—far from the places where memories of baekhyun lingered, far from the shadow of the life you’d carefully unraveled. it wasn’t easy; untangling yourself from him had felt like pulling threads from a tapestry until it barely resembled what it once was. but over time, you found a rhythm. a life where thoughts of him became a quiet hum rather than a deafening roar, where the love that had once consumed you slipped quietly into the recesses of your heart.  

and now, three years later, you stand here as someone completely transformed: a mother.  

raising your daughter alone had its challenges, sure, but you couldn’t deny the sense of purpose it gave you. you were made for this. or maybe it was her—the tiny miracle who had made it all feel so natural. from the moment she came into the world, she was an angel, a light so radiant it softened even the hardest days.  

sure, she had her moments. she was a toddler, after all, still learning how to navigate big feelings in a little body. but her resilience—the way she could fall apart one minute and bounce back the next—made everything easier. she was your shadow, your little mimic, always wanting to copy everything you did.  

the love she gave you was pure and boundless, something you hadn’t realized could exist until she was in your arms. it was a love that filled the spaces in you that you didn’t even know were empty, a love that made the sacrifices and sleepless nights worth it.  

you often found yourself wondering if she was a gift straight from the universe, a little piece of heaven sent just for you. every smile she gave, every tight hug, every soft ‘i love you, mommy’ felt like proof that you were the luckiest soul alive.

and as you watched her now, her tiny fingers curled around her favorite stuffed bunny, a swell of overwhelming gratitude washed over you. life had twisted and turned in ways you never could’ve anticipated, but somehow, in her, it had gifted you everything you’d ever need.

maybe it was the depth of love she gave, the way she radiated warmth and light, that made the thought of telling baekhyun even more terrifying. she was everything—the way her laughter could turn any bad day around, the way her eyes sparkled with innocence and curiosity. a fragile little soul, so beautiful it almost hurt. and you knew, deep down, that baekhyun would’ve adored her. loved her more than words could describe.

the thought of it—of him finding out, of him knowing you’d kept her from him, hidden this piece of him, this precious life from him—it twisted something deep inside you. it made your chest tighten, your thoughts spiral. the guilt, the shame—it felt like a constant ache, one that only grew the more you thought about it.

you and baekhyun talked about it, after all—the future you both dreamed of. lazy nights tangled together under blankets, whispering about what life would look like years down the road. marriage, a house filled with warmth and laughter, children.  

he wanted a family with you. he was so sure of it, so sure of you. he used to say that he couldn’t imagine anyone else being the mother of his kids. the way he looked at you when he said it—it was as if his soul had reached out, seen yours, and said, there she is, the one we’ve been waiting for.

he was a dreamer. he’d mapped it all out in his head—two girls, two boys. his perfect little quartet. the oldest, a girl, to set the tone, to be the leader of the pack. then a boy to balance things out, another boy to roughhouse and make the middle feel less lonely, and finally, the baby of the family, a girl to soften the edges of the chaos. he laughed at the improbability of it all, at how life doesn’t work like that, but he loved dreaming about it anyway.  

you still remembered the way his face lit up when you’d asked him, teasing, what he’d name his first daughter.  

he didn’t even hesitate. he looked up at you, that smile you used to know better than your own, and said, minji.  

your little girl, minji, was the brightest star in your universe, her laughter a melody that softened every hard edge of your world. her smile—warm and golden—was like sunlight spilling into the corners of your heart, chasing away the shadows that lingered from the life you left behind. she was growing so fast, each day a reminder of how fleeting these moments were, and how much you wanted to hold onto them.  

sometimes, though, when the house was quiet and the weight of the past crept in, you allowed yourself to think about baekhyun. it was never for long—just a passing thought, a wondering what if. you didn’t dare to linger, didn’t dare to stir up the bittersweet ache of old feelings and lingering regrets. he had his life now, and you had yours.  

but still, he had been the love of your life, and that kind of love doesn’t just disappear. curiosity tugged at you from time to time. late at night, when minji was fast asleep, you’d catch yourself wondering what he was doing, where he was, if he ever thought about you, too.  

yet no matter how strong the urge, you never gave in. you wouldn’t let yourself open his socials, wouldn’t let yourself peer into the window of the life he was living without you. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to know—it was that you couldn’t. because knowing might hurt more than not knowing, and the delicate balance you’d created would come crashing down.

you hadn’t blocked him, not on anything. instead, you deleted every account, wiped your digital footprint clean, and changed your number. you made sure there was no way for him to reach you, no thread he could pull to unravel the wall you’d built between you.  

you never allowed yourself to dwell on how hurt he might have been—how confused he must’ve felt, waiting for a call or a text that never came. the promises you’d made to him echoed in your mind, haunting you. i’ll tell him when the time is right. but the right time never came.  

and then she was born. tiny fingers curling around yours, eyes so full of life. she reached milestones—her first smile, her first steps, her first word—and with each one, the weight of telling him grew heavier. how could you? how could you drop this truth on him after he’d already missed so much?  

you imagined his reaction: the sharp edge of his disappointment, the rawness of his hurt, the anger that would burn in his chest. he’d ask you why—why did you wait? why did you let so much time pass? and you’d have no answer, nothing that could make it right.  

as the years went by, the truth turned into a mountain too steep to climb. every day that passed felt like another brick in the wall separating you. every moment you stayed silent made it harder to imagine breaking that silence.  

you told yourself it was for the best. you told yourself he deserved better than someone who had made this choice, this mess.  

because deep down, you believed it: you didn’t deserve him. not anymore. not after this

the sound of tiny sneakers squeaking against the linoleum floor filled the pediatrician’s office as you followed your daughter toward the nurse’s station. she clutched her favorite stuffed animal tightly in one hand while the other reached back for yours, her eyes wide with curiosity as she took in the colorful murals on the walls.  

it was a routine check-up for minji, nothing out of the ordinary. she had been a healthy, happy child since birth, and today was just another appointment to ensure that everything was progressing as it should.

you had scheduled the appointment weeks ago, not knowing who the pediatrician was going to be. when you walked into the small, sunlit office, minji tugged excitedly on your sleeve, her eyes wide with curiosity at the brightly colored walls and the small toys scattered around the waiting room.

“mommy, look!” she gasped, pointing to a painted giraffe. her excitement momentarily eased the nervous flutter in your stomach. “a giraffe!”

“yes, it is, bun! good job!” you smile down at the little girl, holding your hand tightly.

it had been over three years. three years since you’d left your old life—and him—behind. baekhyun was supposed to be a part of your daughter’s story, but you made the impossible choice of keeping him out of it. his dreams had always been so big, and you didn’t want to weigh them down with your own.  

a medical assistant called your name, her warm, practiced smile cutting through the haze of your thoughts.  

you scooped your daughter into your arms, her tiny hands clutching her stuffed bunny, and followed the nurse into the examination room. she wriggled slightly but settled on your lap, the bunny tucked snugly under her chin as she began the usual routine.  

height. weight. temperature. the nurse kept up a cheerful, steady rhythm of chatter, her voice a soft hum in the background as your daughter giggled at the stickers offered to her.  

“dr. byun will be in shortly,” the medical assistant said with a final smile before leaving the room.  

your heart stopped.  

'dr. byun'?

no. it couldn’t be him. it had to be a coincidence. it was a common enough name, wasn’t it? but the sound of it crashed into you, unraveling the calm façade you’d so carefully built.  

you told yourself you were being ridiculous. you told yourself to breathe. but the name echoed in your head, louder with every passing second, until you could barely hear your own thoughts over the roar of panic rising in your chest.  

then came the knock.  

soft. polite.  

the door creaked open, and time seemed to slow to an agonizing crawl as he stepped inside.  

your breath caught in your throat.  

it was him.  

fuck.  

no.  

this wasn’t supposed to happen. not like this. this wasn’t how he was supposed to find out. there were plans you never made, conversations you never had.  

this was a complete and utter nightmare. and there was no waking up from it.  

“hi, i’m dr. byun—” his voice wavered, the words barely leaving his lips before they caught in his throat. his eyes found yours, wide with recognition, a spark of disbelief flashing like lightning in a storm.  

his gaze drifted downward, landing on the little girl perched on your lap. her tiny hands clutched your sweater, her curious eyes meeting his with unfiltered wonder.  

for a moment, the world seemed to stop turning.  

his lips parted, and your name slipped out, soft and breathless, as if saying it might make the moment vanish. “it’s you,” he murmured, a mixture of shock and something deeper lacing his tone.  

you couldn’t find your voice, couldn’t push past the lump forming in your throat. it was as though every nerve in your body had frozen, locked under the weight of his stare.  

your daughter, oblivious to the tension coiling around you, tilted her head with a sunny smile. her voice rang out, bright and pure, shattering the silence like glass.  

“hi, dr. byun!” she chirped, her words sweet and unassuming, a small anchor of innocence in the overwhelming tide of emotions threatening to pull you under.

baekhyun’s eyes widened instantly, flickering between you and her. you could see the cogs in his mind turning, the pieces falling into place far quicker than you were ready for.  

his gaze lingered on her—studying, comparing. the resemblance was impossible to ignore. the same dark, expressive eyes that had once melted your heart, the same warm, radiant smile that mirrored his own.  

“is…is she?” his voice was barely above a whisper, as though he wasn’t asking you but trying to make sense of the impossible himself. his eyes never left her, as if every second he stared brought him closer to the undeniable truth.  

her delicate features were a perfect blend of you both, like a portrait painted with pieces of your souls. the curve of his nose graced her face, paired with the flush of your rosy cheeks. his silky black hair framed her tiny head, while your lips formed the gentle pout she wore even in sleep. your eyes shone through hers, but her ears—those were unmistakably his. she was everything you were, everything he was—woven together into this perfect, fragile little person, carrying pieces of a love that felt both timeless and out of reach. and now, looking at her, there was no denying it.

your mouth opened, but the words didn’t come. you tried to speak, to explain, to say something—anything—but all that escaped was a breath, shallow and lost in the silence that filled the space between you. the truth hung there, thick and fragile, like a thread that could snap at any moment, leaving you exposed.  

you could only nod, slow and uncertain, as the weight of everything pressed down on you. the guilt was suffocating, heavy like a stone lodged in your chest, threatening to spill out in the form of tears you couldn’t afford to shed. but there was no escaping it anymore.  

she was his.  

baekhyun sank to his knees in front of her, his movements tentative, as if afraid that any sudden motion might make her disappear. he leaned in, eyes soft with a mixture of awe and something deeper, something unspoken.  

“so, tell me. what’s your name, sweetheart?” his voice was gentle, tender, the words falling from his lips like a promise he wasn’t quite ready to make.  

“minji,” she said proudly, her tiny hands holding up her stuffed bunny, as though it were the most important thing in the world. “this is sonny. she’s a bunny.”  

the moment her name reached his ears, something shifted in baekhyun’s chest. his heart skipped, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, soft and amazed. for a brief second, he was lost in the memory of a quiet conversation—the one where you’d asked him what he would want to name your daughter, and how that moment, so simple, had felt like a lifetime ago.

“hi, minji,” he said softly, his voice trembling as his eyes locked onto her small, curious face. he crouched slightly, lowering himself to her level, and the words caught in his throat. “i’m…” his gaze flickered upward to yours, and in that brief second, the weight of it all was laid bare. his expression faltered, his eyes glossing with unshed tears, carrying the unspoken words and unresolved emotions that hung heavy between you.  

you saw it then—the man he was before, the one you fell for, unchanged and yet altered by time and pain.  

“…a good friend of your mommy’s,” he finally managed, the words shaky but kind.  

minji giggled, her laughter light and carefree, like a burst of sunshine breaking through a storm. “mommy has lots of friends!” she chirped, her innocence unknowingly twisting the knife in baekhyun’s chest.  

he nodded with a soft smile, his lips barely curving, as if the weight of her words was too much to bear. “she does, doesn’t she?” he murmured. his hands moved carefully as he began preparing for her exam, every motion deliberate, like he was trying to steady himself through the task.  

but his eyes… his eyes stayed rooted to the ground, skirting around yours as if meeting your gaze would undo him entirely. and as you stood there, watching him avoid you, something inside you cracked. you knew why. you knew he wasn’t ready yet—not to face you, not to confront the flood of everything that had been left unsaid.  

as baekhyun began the check-up, it was as if the floodgates of your heart had been ripped open. memories surged in, overwhelming you like a tidal wave—those plans you had once woven together, the future you had dreamed of, the life you thought you’d build before everything crumbled. nearly four years had passed since you disappeared without a trace, but those dreams now felt like fragile, delicate threads, tangled in the web of secrets you’d spun to protect him. 

baekhyun moved with the same calm professionalism that you remembered—his hands steady and sure as he worked. but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from him, from the way he interacted with minji—his touch soft and deliberate, his voice lilting with that same soothing cadence. it was a tenderness that sliced through you, sharp and immediate, a reminder of everything you’d lost. how could you have let him slip away? how could you have convinced yourself that walking away was the right choice?

watching him, gently checking minji’s ears, his voice quieting her in the way he once did for you, something inside you twisted painfully. you couldn’t run from him anymore. not now. not ever again.

the exam ended far too quickly. minji bounced off the examination table, her bunny clutched in her small arms, and baekhyun handed you a stack of papers—educational handouts, visit summaries, the usual paperwork from a child’s wellness check. his fingers brushed yours as he passed them to you, and the brief touch left a burning trail that lingered long after.  

minji’s small hand tugged at your sleeve, warm and insistent, her voice a soft melody that cut through the heavy air. “mommy, mommy! can we go play now?”

you forced a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. the weight of the moment pressed on your chest, and you fought to keep the tears from falling. “sure, bun. we’ll go in just a minute.”

the word bun hung in the air between you, and baekhyun flinched. his eyes flickered with something raw, a mix of pain and recognition. that name. it was something he used to call you— a relic of a past that felt both distant and achingly close.

his gaze didn’t leave you, like he was trying to unravel the walls you’d so carefully built around yourself. there was a quiet intensity in his eyes, as if he was searching for something buried deep within you. the space between you both thickened, heavy with unspoken words. it felt suffocating, like the air was being stolen from your lungs. this was it. the moment that would change everything.

after what felt like an eternity, baekhyun cleared his throat, his voice thick with restraint. “we need to talk,” he said, the words heavy and laced with something you couldn’t quite name. “please… i just… i have so many questions.”

you nodded quickly, the anxiety twisting your insides into knots. “um, sure… i can meet you after i drop her off at daycare?” your words rushed out, frantic, as your brow furrowed in uncertainty.

"there’s a coffee shop nearby," he murmured, his voice soft yet steady, the words deliberate. his hand moved to pull out a notepad, pen poised above the paper. with a few swift strokes, he jotted down the name of the place before folding the paper and handing it to you. "i have a couple more patients to see this morning. do you think you can meet me there in an hour?"

his voice was calm, but his eyes—those eyes—told a different story. they flickered with something raw, something desperate, like a storm fighting its way to the surface.

you took the slip of paper, your fingers brushing his, a small shock of warmth shooting through you at the touch. you glanced down at the paper, his handwriting still familiar, though now slightly uneven, as if his nerves had bled into the ink. beneath the coffee shop's name, his number was written—neat but hurried, a subtle tremor in the lines.

you looked back up, and his gaze met yours—quiet, intense, full of unspoken things. without a word, he nodded toward the paper, his voice steady but laced with something fragile, something that didn’t quite fit with the man you knew. "that's my number, bun. just in case you're running late or something."

you nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, but it felt tight, strained. his nickname for you—a small, tender thing—lingered in the air like a spark. you felt it in your chest, but the words caught in your throat. too much. too many emotions swirling. your hands moved on instinct, gathering minji’s things, offering him a tight, polite smile before ushering your daughter out of the room.

but just as you turned to leave, you swore you heard him whisper—barely audible, a plea caught between his teeth, "please, don't leave me hanging this time."

it hit you like a blow to the gut, leaving you breathless. the weight of it pressed down on you, suffocating. 

and in that moment, you knew with brutal clarity—you deserved that.

you sat there, the weight of your nerves pressing down on you, each breath feeling too loud in the quiet of the café. baekhyun chatted casually with the barista, ordering drinks like it was any other day, like nothing had changed between you two. his voice was light, unbothered, but it only made the tension in your chest heavier. you gripped the strap of your bag so tightly your fingers ached, heart pounding in your ears, drowning out the soft hum of conversation around you. your mind raced in circles, desperately searching for the right words—something to apologize for the years you took from him, for keeping his daughter from him, for all the lies. but no matter how hard you tried to form the apology, the truth hovered over you: what you did was unforgivable.

when baekhyun finally returned, he slid your drink in front of you, his movements slower than usual, almost tentative. you brought the cup to your lips, the warmth of it familiar, the taste exactly as you remembered—comforting, like a quiet reminder of everything you'd tried to bury. 

"i remembered how you liked your coffee," baekhyun murmured, his voice softer than before, tinged with uncertainty. "i hope it's still the same." 

you met his gaze, your throat tight as you forced a small smile. "it is. thank you."

baekhyun exhaled a heavy breath, running a hand through his hair, his fingers snagging in the tousled strands. his eyes drifted away from yours, unable to meet your gaze, as if the weight of this moment was pressing down on him just as much as it was on you.  

"so..." you began, your voice hesitant, but before you could find the right words, he interrupted.  

“i’m engaged,” he blurted, the words sharp and sudden, like a slap to the face.  

it hit you in the chest, the shock stealing the air from your lungs. the room seemed to tilt, the ground beneath you crumbling, and you couldn’t find your footing. as if this day wasn’t heavy enough, this new weight crushed you under its force.  

"oh," you whispered, the word tasting hollow, barely escaping as your heart constricted. "congratulations. i'm sure she's... amazing."  

"mhm," he hummed softly, a brief flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth before it faded. his eyes dropped to his coffee cup, watching the steam rise like he was searching for something in the shifting mist, anything to avoid the tension between you.  

you couldn’t find the strength to say more. words seemed pointless now. instead, you sat there, biting your lip, your gaze fixed on the table as jealousy and heartbreak clawed at you from the inside. you knew you had no right to feel this way, no right to be hurt after everything that had happened. but still, the ache lingered, a quiet, relentless sting.

his fingers raked through his hair again, the tension in his jaw unmistakable as he exhaled sharply, frustration thick in the air. when he finally met your gaze, his eyes were raw with hurt, every unspoken word between you now painfully exposed. "so why didn't you tell me? about minji?"

you'd rehearsed this moment a thousand times in your mind, each word crafted carefully, but now, sitting across from him, it all felt empty, hollow. "you had just gotten into your residency program," you said softly, voice shaky. "it was your dream. i…i didn’t want to hold you back."

his eyes darkened, the hurt twisting into something sharper. "so what? you thought you could decide for me? you think i wouldn't have wanted to be there?" his voice cracked with emotion, rising. "do you have any idea how much i waited for you? how many nights i sat by the phone, praying you'd call?"

the weight of it hit you, hard. you'd known, of course—he'd been dropped from the program. he'd fought tooth and nail to get into a second-choice school, one that brought him here, to this city. and now, here he was, sitting across from you, the remnants of his sacrifice hanging in the silence between you.

his gaze faltered, dropping to the steaming cup in front of him. he stared at the swirling mist as if it held the answers, as if the rising steam could ease the hurt, the questions, the ache that had settled between you.

you didn’t know what to say anymore. words felt pointless, insignificant in the face of everything that had unfolded. instead, you sat there, biting your lip, unable to meet his eyes, while jealousy and regret clawed at your chest. it wasn’t your place to feel this way—not after everything you had done. but the sting of it, sharp and biting, wouldn’t fade.

the tears you had spent so long holding back finally began to break free, each drop feeling like it had been waiting a lifetime to fall. you didn’t want to keep apologizing, but the words slipped out, hollow and fragile. "it wasn’t an easy choice, baekhyun. i thought i was doing the right thing." 

“‘the right thing’?” his voice softened, but the hurt in his words still rang out like a chord being pulled too tight. "you didn’t even give me a chance. i missed everything—her first steps, her first words. you took all of that from me." 

your throat tightened, each breath harder to catch. you swallowed, and your voice cracked under the weight of the truth. “i know,” you whispered, the regret clawing at you. “i regret it every day.” 

baekhyun’s hands were curled into fists, white knuckles pressing into the table like they could anchor him in place. he didn’t look at you—his gaze was lost in his coffee, the silence hanging heavily between you both. and then, after what felt like an eternity of stillness, he spoke again, his voice quieter, as if the question had burned him from the inside. “does she know?” 

you shook your head slowly, feeling your chest tighten. “i haven’t told her. i didn’t know how... but she’s been asking. she sees the other kids with their dads and wonders why she doesn’t have one.” 

baekhyun covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes as if trying to erase the raw pain. "i can't believe this. i can't believe you." 

"i know, baekhyun," you whispered, tears spilling down your face without control now. "you have every right to hate me... and if you want, you don’t have to see either one of us again—" 

his voice sliced through your words, thick with disbelief, tremoring as if he couldn’t comprehend what you were saying. "are you... are you serious right now? you’d leave? again? how is that supposed to fix anything? did you not think i wanted her? wanted you? we’ve talked about this, bun... you knew what it meant for me to be a dad."

the sobs broke free from you then, impossible to hold back, your chest aching with each desperate breath. you wiped at your face, but your hands trembled too violently, the tears just wouldn’t stop. all you could choke out were broken apologies, fragments of regret slipping between your breaths. "i knew you’d drop everything for her. for us. but... you becoming a doctor, that was your dream... and i was just so scared."

he leaned forward, his expression softening, but there was still a fire in his eyes. “i want to be in her life,” he said, his voice firm, steady, eyes red from the silent tears streaming down his face. “she’s my daughter. and i want to know her. i want her to know me. her father.”  

you looked at him, your heart heavy with guilt. “i wasn’t planning to keep you away,” you said, your voice cracking. “i just... i didn’t know how to tell you after all this time.”  

baekhyun’s gaze softened, his voice quieter but resolute. “we’ll figure it out. but i’m not letting you push me away again.”  

you paused, biting your lip, anxiety clawing at your chest. “but what about your fiancée? you already had a life of your own before today…i can’t help but feel like i’ve fucked everything up for you, baekhyun.”  

he shook his head, a soft, bitter laugh escaping him before he quickly suppressed it. his voice faltered, the nickname slipping out before he even realized it. “don’t worry about that, bun—” he stopped mid-sentence, the word tasting strange and wrong on his tongue after your mention of his fiancée. it was as if, in that moment, he’d completely forgotten about her. he cleared his throat, trying to steady himself. “i mean… just let me handle that. but for now... please, promise me you won’t disappear again. promise me you won’t take her away from me. i’m begging you... let me in. i feel like you owe me that much.”

you nodded, the promise catching in your throat. “i promise.”

you scrolled slowly through your camera roll, fingers grazing over the images of your daughter, sharing them with baekhyun—each one, a snapshot of her life, a memory you’d held in secret for so long. each photo was like a tender piece of your soul, each moment a quiet confession of everything that had unfolded without him. there was a rawness in it, a vulnerability that felt like you were unwrapping your heart for him, and it was overwhelming. for both of you.

he sat there, eyes scanning the photos, and a storm of emotions swirled within him. there was anger, sharp and bitter, that you’d kept minji hidden from him. all those years, a secret that was both yours and hers to carry. betrayal lingered in his chest, not from you, but from the truth that he hadn’t been there, that he’d missed out on so much. and yet, despite it not being his fault, guilt settled heavy in his heart—guilt that you had to raise her alone. guilt for every moment you’d carried the weight of motherhood without him by your side.

but baekhyun, the man who had always been able to push past the shadows of the past, found something in the photos—something bright, something he could hold onto. minji’s smile, sweet and dimpled, was a beacon of hope. it was everything he needed to see, to ignite a fire within him. it wasn’t just a reminder of what was lost—it was the fuel that would drive him to make up for every single moment he’d missed.

the weight of the conversation shifted slowly, and before you even realized it, the words spilled out. you couldn’t stop yourself—you had to ask about her. his fiancée.

he told you her name was soo. they met during his residency, he said, when she helped pull him from the darkest corner of his life—the place where your absence had left him, broken and barely breathing. she was the one who stitched him back together, the one who healed the wound you’d left, a wound that, it seemed, only she could mend.

and yet, even as he spoke, despite the rawness of his confession, he wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty. he didn’t want to hurt you. but the words hung there, thick with unspoken emotions.

then, he showed you the photos. of her. oh god, she was beautiful. radiant, in a way that seemed to glow from within. they looked like they were made for each other, perfectly matched, intertwined in a way you could never hope to be. he spoke of her with awe—how brilliant and kind she was.

and as he spoke, something tugged at the edges of your thoughts. his eyes, usually so bright and full of warmth when he spoke of someone he loved, were different now. softer, distant. the sparkle that once lived there had dimmed, as if the affection he had for her wasn’t as alive as it once had been. you told yourself not to read too much into it, to not dwell on the subtle shift. it had been years. people changed, didn’t they? he wasn’t the same baekhyun you remembered. especially not after everything you had put him through.

it stirred a jealousy in you, sharp and bitter, but deeper than that, it left a dull ache settling in your chest. you longed to be the one he spoke of with such adoration, the one he admired in every way. you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering if he ever spoke about you like that—if he ever felt for you the way he now seemed to feel for her. it burned like poison in your veins, a vile and familiar ache that made you sick to your stomach. you hated it. hated how it made you feel so small, so unimportant. the weight of it made you want to vanish, to slip out of your own skin, anything to escape the suffocating reality of it all. you should be happy for him. happy that he had found someone who could make him feel whole again. but all you could feel was the hollow ache of your own failure to ever be enough.

you tried to smile, tried to hold yourself together, but each compliment, each story, each glowing word about her, hit you like a dagger to the chest. you couldn’t listen anymore. you didn’t want to.

it was too much. before you even realized it, you were standing, your throat tight as you forced the words out. “i... i need to go. um, i have to make dinner…and pick up minji from daycare. i’ll text you. we can figure out a time for you both to meet properly.”

before he could respond, you were out the door, the bells above the café door jingling as you fled. 

but you didn’t make it far. a few seconds later, you heard the hurried footsteps behind you, his voice calling out. “bun—fuck, wait! slow down!”

you could feel the tears streaming down your face again, hot and uncontrollable. you wiped them hastily, hoping he didn’t see. but of course, he did. he always did. 

“look,” baekhyun began, his voice softer now, tinged with something you couldn’t place. “i never thought i’d hear from you again. and now you just—pop back into my life, on a random friday, with a daughter i had no idea about. i’m sorry if you’re upset that there’s someone else in my life. but please... don’t punish me for finding myself again after you completely destroyed me.”

his words hit harder than anything you could’ve prepared for. your knees felt weak, your heart shattering with every syllable. because it was true. every part of it. you had done this. you’d pushed him away, and now you had no right to feel this way, no right to demand anything.

"baek," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, trembling under the weight of everything you couldn’t say. "you’re right. i don’t have the right to feel this way. i just... when i saw you again, it was like everything came crashing back. all those old feelings—things i thought i’d buried—flooded back in an instant. but i swear, i won’t keep minji from you. i won’t. and... i’m honestly so glad you’ve found happiness. and soo—she... she seems amazing. i can see why you’re with her. and... i’m genuinely looking forward to co-parenting with you both. really."

you swallowed hard, the words like sandpaper against your throat. the lie at the end tasted bitter, clinging to the back of your tongue, but you forced them out anyway. you needed him to believe it. needed him to let you go so you could retreat to the quiet of your own space, where you could curl up and weep in the solitude of your own shame.

his expression softened, though there was something unreadable in his eyes. “hmm…okay.” he reached into his pocket, pulling out your phone. “you left this on the table. and, uh… you promise you’ll stay in contact?”

you nodded quickly, unlocking your phone and typing your name into the message. “you have mine now, too.”

a small relief flashed in his eyes when he saw your name on the screen. he nodded, his voice steady. “thank you. let me know when you’re both ready. we’ll make this work.”

you nodded, your throat tight as you wiped away the last of the tears. you offered him a half-smile, barely managing to hold it together, before turning away. your feet felt heavy as you walked to your car, the silence between you louder than anything.

when you finally arrived home, everything came crashing down at once, a tidal wave that hit you full-force. the weight of everything you’d been holding inside pressed into your chest, suffocating, like your lungs had forgotten how to breathe. you collapsed, body trembling, as sobs wrenched their way through you—soft, guttural cries that seemed to echo in the emptiness of your apartment. tears streamed down your face, thick and relentless, each one heavier than the last, as if they were washing away more than just your sorrow. how had you managed to mess everything up this badly?

the feeling of being lost in your own failure was dizzying, a dark spiral that threatened to swallow you whole.

chanyeol, your next-door neighbor, was more than just a friendly face. he was a single parent too, his daughter nari being the same age as minji. from the moment you’d moved in, the girls had been inseparable—like they were two halves of the same whole, constantly together, sharing everything from toys to whispered secrets. and over time, you and chanyeol had become something more than neighbors. you were lifelines to one another, navigating the chaos of single parenthood side by side. daycare pickups, late-night texts for advice, emergency contact calls—they were moments that built trust, moments that held you both up when the world felt too heavy.

but then there were the other moments. the ones that neither of you had planned, yet they happened all the same.

on nights when the girls had sleepovers, tucked under either your roof or his, the house would fall into an eerie stillness, a quiet so profound it felt almost alien. no toys scattered across the floor, no giggles or whispers. just an empty house, and the faint hum of the world outside. in those moments, the bottle of wine always made its way to the table—deep crimson liquid swirling in your glass, catching the soft light in a way that felt too intimate, too inviting. the scent of it lingered in the air, rich and heady, like a secret waiting to be shared. one glass became two, then three, until the words flowed freely, unguarded.

laughter bubbled between you both, light and carefree, mingling with the quiet sounds of the night. and somewhere, in the subtle space between casual conversation and shared history, something shifted—unspoken, but impossible to ignore. it wasn’t deliberate, not in the beginning, but it was undeniable. a quiet tension hung between you both, the kind that hummed just below the surface, like a chord waiting to be struck.

in the warm, dim light, the lines between friendship and something more began to blur. his lips brushed yours—not quite a kiss, but not exactly innocent either. the taste of wine lingered on his mouth, mingling with something darker, something deeper, something unspoken. your hands—almost of their own accord—found their way to each other, fingers tracing the outline of familiar paths, not quite daring to go any further. the touch was careful, deliberate, like a dance on the edge of something you both knew was dangerous, but too tempting to resist.

each kiss lingered just long enough to leave you wanting more, but never deepened enough to cross the line you both feared. the weight of unspoken rules hung between you, pulling back every time either of you tried to cross the line. clothes were the only barrier between you, a fragile wall that you both clung to, even as the urge to tear it down grew stronger.

but even in the silence, the weight of your unresolved feelings for baekhyun settled heavily in the room, a ghost that neither of you could escape. and chanyeol—he carried his own baggage. the loss of his wife, a wound that had never fully healed, leaving him to raise nari on his own, balancing grief and fatherhood in a way that only he understood. he wasn’t looking for more. not from you. not yet.

the timing was all wrong, the space between you wasn’t yours to claim. but in those rare moments, it felt as if maybe, just maybe, it could have been.

it was never spoken aloud, but you both knew the truth. chanyeol knew you still loved baekhyun, and that truth hung between you like a quiet weight. neither of you disturbed it. the unspoken agreement between you was that your daughters came first, no matter what. whatever might have blossomed between you, if it ever did, had to come naturally, unburdened by guilt or pretense.

but in those moments, when the air between you grew thick with something more, a quiet voice inside you would pull you back. it reminded you of the messy knots still holding your heart in place, the wounds that hadn’t yet healed. you couldn’t move forward—not yet. not while your heart was still tangled with baekhyun.

chanyeol, always the gentleman, never pushed. he was patient, always aware of your needs, always respectful of the boundaries you set. when you needed to talk, he listened; when you needed space, he gave it. but in the quiet of his own heart, he couldn’t help but feel more for you than he allowed himself to admit. how could he not? you were beautiful, strong, and a devoted mother. you embraced nari as your own, and in doing so, you made his heart ache in ways he couldn’t express. even knowing your heart was still tethered to someone else, he couldn’t stop himself from wishing—just for a moment—that maybe, just maybe, one day you’d find your way to him.

he carried that silent ache with the kind of grace only he could muster, never letting it slip, even as it quietly wore at him, just a little more each day.

so when you texted him—asking if he could pick up minji, keeping the explanation vague, not wanting him to worry—he was there. barely ten minutes later, a soft knock at your door echoed through the silence.

when you opened it, his wide eyes met the mess that was you—mascara streaks trailing down your cheeks, a crumpled tissue clenched in your trembling hand. you tried to muster a smile, but it felt paper-thin, your voice weak and brittle. “yeolie? what’s up?” 

the words barely left your lips before he froze in place, his expression shifting from confusion to alarm. “a-are you okay? what’s going on? did someone—did something happen? is minji okay? are you sick? do you need me to take you to the hospital?” his voice cracked, the flood of questions spilling out in rapid succession, his panic tangible.

you stepped aside, pulling the door open wider, silently inviting him in. he didn’t hesitate, stepping through, his gaze glued to yours like he was searching for answers in your tear-stained face.

he trailed behind you to the couch, his presence steady and grounding as you collapsed onto the cushions, tears streaming freely. through shaky breaths, you unraveled the tangled mess of your day—the awkward reunion, the jumbled emotions, the weight of everything that seemed to be crumbling all at once. you didn’t dare admit the jealousy clawing at your chest, the hollow ache that filled you when baekhyun spoke about his fiancée with such love. that part you kept tucked away, too raw, too humiliating to expose.

chanyeol sat beside you, his towering frame a comforting shadow as he listened. really listened. his hand moved in soothing circles along your back, a silent reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

your words poured out, no longer confined to just the events of the day but expanding into everything—the years that had passed, the guilt that had burrowed deep and refused to let go. every regret, every misstep, every weight you’d carried alone spilled out in a torrent of tears and confessions. and chanyeol just sat there, unwavering, holding space for you in the way only a true friend could.

“hey,” he began, his voice soft yet steady, as if anchoring you in the storm of your own thoughts. that signature dimpled smile appeared, warm and reassuring, carrying a kindness that made your chest tighten. “no one’s perfect,” he said, his gaze locking with yours, as though he could see the weight of your regret. “it’s okay to have moments you wish you could take back. you don’t need to have it all figured out right now—just take it one step at a time, yeah? what matters is where you go from here, and i know you’ll choose the right path.” 

his hand brushed against yours, grounding you further. “no matter what, nari and i will always be here. for you and minji. you’re not in this alone.”

you swallowed hard, his words cutting through the mess of emotions tangled in your chest. the sincerity in his voice, the unwavering warmth in his eyes—it was almost too much. you nodded slowly, blinking back the tears threatening to spill. 

“thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you knew he heard it. “i don’t even know if i deserve this kind of support... but it means everything. truly.”  

your fingers fidgeted with the edge of your sleeve, the weight of his reassurance settling over you like a safety net. the corner of your lips lifted into the faintest smile, a flicker of gratitude breaking through your doubt. “and…thank you, yeollie. for always being here for us.” 

he pulled you into a hug, the kind only chanyeol could give—one that made you feel like you were wrapped in the coziest, softest blanket on the coldest day. his size alone made it impossible not to feel safe, like he could shield you from the entire world.  

"stay put," he murmured, his voice low and soothing against your hair. "i’ll go pick up the girls. how about we pick up a pizza on the way home? maybe a bottle of wine to go with it?"  

you couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up, the weight on your chest lifting just enough to let it out. "yeah... i’d like that. thanks, yeol."  

he grinned as he stood, his steps sure and familiar as he moved to the fridge. the sound of the door opening and bottles clinking against each other filled the room. when he returned, he handed you one of the water bottles, twisting the cap off for you with ease.  

"drink up," he said, flicking a finger gently under your chin to tilt your head up, a playful glint in his eyes. "don’t need you passing out on me from dehydration."  

his teasing tone, coupled with the affection in his gesture, made your heart feel a little lighter. you took the bottle from him, your fingers brushing his briefly, and for the first time all day, you felt a spark of comfort.

later that night, minji lay tucked beneath her soft quilt, her favorite bunny held close to her chest. the warm glow of the nightlight painted her face in soft hues, the shadows dancing gently across her room like a lullaby. you leaned over her small form, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "i love you," you whispered, your voice a soothing murmur. "sleep tight, bun."

as your hand hovered over the light switch, her voice stopped you in your tracks, delicate yet filled with curiosity. "hey, mommy," she called, her tone innocent and thoughtful. "why does that doctor from earlier call you that, too?"

the question struck a chord deep within you, freezing you for a moment as your heart stumbled over itself. turning back toward her, you forced a smile, smoothing the sudden tension coiling in your chest. walking slowly to her bedside, you perched at the edge, meeting her wide, trusting eyes. "well," you started softly, your voice steady despite the fluttering unease within. "like dr. byun said, he's a really good friend of mine. that’s where i got your nickname, too."

her face lit up, her small smile so pure it made your heart ache. she nodded slowly, processing your words in that way only children can, her gaze thoughtful yet brimming with trust. "he was nice," she said, her tone sweet and certain. "i really liked him."

"yeah?" you asked, crouching down so your eyes were level with hers, the warmth of her sincerity wrapping around you like a blanket. her simple joy tugged at something tender within you. "would you like to see him again?"

her smile widened, blooming like the sun breaking through clouds. excitement sparkled in her eyes, her whole face lighting up in a way that mirrored her love for ice cream on hot afternoons. she nodded vigorously, her enthusiasm bubbling over. 

"uh-huh!" she chirped, her joy infectious, spreading a flicker of warmth through your own heart.

you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound soft and full of love. "okay, bunny," you said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, your voice tender. "sleep tight, 'kay?" you pressed another soft kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment, before turning off the light. the door clicked shut softly behind you.

standing in the hallway, your back against the cool wall, you let out a long, shaky breath, the weight of the day settling heavily in your chest. the silence was broken by a ping from your phone, pulling you out of your thoughts. you stared at the screen, the light illuminating your face as a new message appeared.

baekhyun:

thank you for today. let’s talk soon about how we move forward—together.

your chest tightened, the words settling over you like a heavy blanket. this was the beginning of something you hadn’t seen coming, something that made your pulse race with equal parts fear and exhilaration. 

you responded quickly, almost without thinking:

you free tomorrow to go over details?

the path ahead was a little scary and clouded with uncertainty, but one thing was for sure: baekhyun was here, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

baekhyun and minji bonded quicker than you ever imagined. their first playdate was a sunny afternoon at the park, where baekhyun seemed completely absorbed in her. every giggle, every burst of energy as she dashed between slides and swings, every scrunched-nose smile lit up his face. it was as if he was trying to memorize every little detail about her, committing her essence to memory. minji, ever the social butterfly, welcomed him without hesitation—just as she did her classmates, her teachers, and even chanyeol.

chanyeol.

his name slipped into your thoughts uninvited, a shadow that tugged at your focus. why were you thinking about him now? you blinked hard, shaking the thought away. the last thing you needed was to let another layer of complication invade your already chaotic emotions.

then came that afternoon. baekhyun had come to drop minji off at your place, the usual familiarity of the moment interrupted by the unexpected. when the door swung open, it wasn’t you standing there—it was chanyeol.

“baekhyun, right?” chanyeol greeted him warmly, his easy smile bright enough to momentarily disarm. his dimple pressed deep into his cheek, as if it was carved there just for moments like this. snapping his fingers in playful recognition, he added, “i’ve heard so much about you.” he gestured casually over his shoulder, as if to invite baekhyun in. “i’m chanyeol. and that’s nari over there.”

baekhyun froze, the weight of the moment pressing down on him like an invisible force. for a split second, his expression faltered, eyes flickering to the cheerful little girl in the background, her laughter filling the air. then, his gaze shifted back to chanyeol, studying him with a quiet intensity. there was something unspoken in the air between them, subtle yet impossible to ignore—a tension that lingered like a low hum.

his eyes darted past chanyeol, chest tightening as they landed on you. you were seated on the floor, cross-legged, a radiant smile stretching across your face as you and nari played with minji’s toys. the sound of your laughter, bright and unguarded, hit him square in the chest, stirring something raw and vulnerable deep inside him. you looked so at ease, as if the joy spilling from you was effortless, untouched by the weight of the past.

“hi, chanyeol!” minji’s voice rang out, cutting through the fog of his thoughts. her tiny arms stretched toward the tall man, her excitement spilling over in a cheerful squeal.

chanyeol didn’t hesitate, scooping her up with the ease of someone who’d done it a hundred times before. “i missed you!” minji giggled, wrapping her small arms tightly around his neck.

“i missed you too, bun,” chanyeol replied with a wide grin, holding her close.

baekhyun’s stomach twisted, the word hitting him like a slap. bun. his nickname for her. no—their nickname. a sharp possessiveness surged through him, hot and consuming. did chanyeol call you that too? the thought crept in like a poison, making his jaw tighten. it was irrational, and yet it burned, carving out a hollow ache in his chest.

you stood then, walking toward them, your smile warm and glowing like the softest light. chanyeol still had minji perched on his hip, cradling her as if she were his own. he leaned in, planting an exaggerated, playful kiss on her cheek, earning a burst of delighted giggles from her.

the sound, the sight of it all—your ease, minji’s trust, chanyeol’s familiarity—brought baekhyun to the edge. his chest tightened, his breathing shallow, and for a brief, unsteady moment, he felt like he might collapse under the weight of it. the life he wanted was right in front of him, his life, and yet, it felt just out of reach.

“i missed you, bunny,” you murmured, your fingers tenderly brushing through her soft, dark hair. minji tilted her head up to you, her eyes glittering like tiny stars. then she turned to him, her small hand waving eagerly. “bye, baekhyun!” she chirped, her voice bright and pure, her little toothy grin so heartbreakingly innocent it nearly brought him to his knees.

baekhyun’s chest tightened, the pressure unbearable. how could something so sweet hurt so much?

you stepped closer, and for a fleeting moment, baekhyun forgot how to breathe. your smile was warm, easy, and devastatingly familiar—a smile that used to be his. it softened the tension hanging in the air, but to him, it cut deeper than any blade.

“thanks for picking her up from daycare,” you said, your voice gentle, almost apologetic. the sincerity in your tone slipped past every defense he’d tried to build since that day you walked back into his life. “did you wanna come inside for a bit? we usually do taco tuesdays with chanyeol and nari. you’re more than welcome to join us.”

your words were casual, but the invitation felt anything but. “i think it’d be great, actually,” you added, your voice bright with optimism. “since chanyeol’s been in minji’s life for a little over a year now.”

the floor seemed to tilt beneath him. his body stiffened, and a violent twist gripped his heart. chanyeol. a year. the words echoed mercilessly in his mind, louder and louder until they drowned out everything else. he wanted to tell you no, to scream it, to tell you he’d rather rip his chest open and claw his heart out than walk into that house and see the life you were building without him. a life that looked so perfect. a life where he was nothing but a footnote.

instead, he forced a smile—thin, hollow, the kind of smile that only deepened the cracks in his façade. it was nothing more than a mask, a feeble attempt to conceal the storm raging beneath his skin. “i’m actually in a hurry,” he said, the words stiff and unnatural as they stumbled off his tongue. “gotta get to the clinic.”

a lie, plain and simple. it came too easily, slipping past his lips like second nature. the instant it escaped, he felt the sick churn of regret twisting in his stomach, his voice betraying him with a clipped edge he couldn’t quite hide.

your head tilted slightly, confusion flickering across your face like a shadow. “didn’t you guys already close for the day?” you asked, your brows knitting together in that subtle way that always made his chest ache. “it’s past six.”

his pulse stuttered, a silent curse tumbling through his mind as he fumbled for an answer that wouldn’t shatter the fragile distance he was desperately clinging to. but nothing came. nothing convincing enough. nothing that didn’t feel like quicksand.

his feet shifted instinctively, retreating before his resolve could crumble further. “charts and prescriptions and... you know, stuff,” he mumbled, taking an awkward step back. “i’ll see you later.”

before you could say another word, he turned, walking briskly toward his car. his steps were measured, his pride refusing to let him break into a full-on sprint, even as his heart hammered like a war drum. every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of his lie and your confusion pressing down on him like a vice.

he didn’t dare look back. if he did, he knew he wouldn’t have the strength to keep going.

from behind him, minji’s giggles rang out like music, the sound breaking through the thickness in the air. you were pressing playful kisses to her cheeks, your exaggerated smooches sending her into a fit of laughter.

it was almost too much. the scene—the two of you together, so natural, so perfect—made his knees weak. he gripped the handle of his car door and paused, his chest heaving as he fought the urge to look back. to stay.

but he didn’t. he slid into the driver’s seat and pulled away, leaving behind the ache that followed him everywhere you and minji weren’t.

as baekhyun drove away, his grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned a stark white. the image of you standing there with chanyeol and the two girls—your girls—seared into his mind, an indelible mark he couldn’t shake. you looked like a perfect family, like something pulled straight out of a dream. but for baekhyun, it was nothing short of a nightmare.

every mile he put between himself and your door pressed harder on the ache in his chest. his thoughts roared louder than the hum of the engine, drowning out everything but one relentless truth: that should’ve been me.

he couldn’t keep doing this—living in the fragile shell of a life that barely held him together. pretending he was fine without you, without minji. pretending that every day apart wasn’t hollow, wasn’t agony. each moment away from the two of you felt like a wound he couldn’t heal, the kind that gnawed at him constantly, leaving him restless and raw.

he dragged a trembling hand through his hair as the silence around him became unbearable. pacing the length of his living room later that night, his mind was still trapped back at your doorstep. he could hear your laugh echoing in his ears, the way it always lit up every corner of his world. the memory of your voice, soft and full of meaning, saying his name. minji’s tiny hands gripping his, her trust as effortless as her love. every memory sharpened the longing, the undeniable knowledge that you were his. you always had been. and yet, here he was—stuck in a life that felt like it belonged to someone else.

it wasn’t fair. not to him. not to you. and certainly not to her. the woman waiting for him at home, wearing the ring he had slipped onto her finger when he was too weak to face the truth. she deserved more. she deserved better. she deserved a man who wasn’t haunted by another woman’s smile, another child’s laughter.

his fists clenched at his sides as the weight of his choices bore down on him. guilt dug into him like a blade, twisting with every second. and yet, beneath it all, one truth burned brighter than anything else: he needed you. he needed you and minji, your warmth, your chaos, the life you had created without him.

he could feel it unraveling, the lie he was clinging to. every passing day stretched it thinner, threatening to snap. and when it did, he wasn’t sure what would be left of him—only that it wouldn’t be enough without you.

after a few more park playdates, you invited baekhyun over for dinner. when he arrived, he held two bouquets—one vibrant and blooming for you, and a smaller, delicate arrangement for minji.  

minji’s face lit up as she clutched her flowers, her excitement spilling over as she helped baekhyun carefully arrange them in vases. you watched from the kitchen, your hands busy with dinner but your heart quietly swelling at the sight of them together. 

dinner came and went in a blur of laughter and easy conversation. afterward, baekhyun insisted on helping clean up, minji trailing behind him like his little shadow. yet through it all, you couldn’t ignore the way his gaze lingered on you—soft, almost yearning. and every time you caught him, he’d quickly look away, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink.  

you tried to brush it off, convincing yourself it was nothing. that the bouquet meant nothing. but your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat every time your eyes met. your cheeks warmed under his gaze, though you told yourself it was absurd. he’s engaged, you reminded yourself firmly. he’s in love with someone else. it’s not you anymore. it hasn’t been for years.

later, baekhyun offered to get minji ready for bed, his enthusiasm lighting up the room. he approached each part of her bedtime routine with such care—a playful splash during her bath, patient encouragement as she brushed her teeth, and a warm smile as he read her a bedtime story.  

you stood in the hallway, listening to her giggles and his gentle voice, your chest tightening with a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite name.

you walked back to the kitchen, the soft hum of the house wrapping around you as you reached for the wine bottle. the deep red liquid swirled as you poured it into two glasses, the rich aroma curling in the air. baekhyun had worked magic tonight, easing a rowdy toddler into sleep as if it were the simplest thing in the world. the image of him tucking minji in still lingered in your mind—a quiet smile on his face, his touch gentle but sure.

you thought about all the time you and minji had been spending with baekhyun lately felt like something out of a dream. it was everything you’d ever wished for but never thought you’d have. he slipped so seamlessly into her world, as if he’d always been there. their bond was undeniable—tickle fights that left her squealing with laughter, quiet moments where she leaned into him with absolute trust. watching them together only deepened the ache in your chest, the one that whispered how foolish you’d been to keep her from him for so long.  

you told him as much one late afternoon, after a long stroll through the park. minji had fallen asleep in his arms, her little body spent from an afternoon of running through the playground while he chased her, pretending to be some silly monster. her tiny cheek squished against his shoulder, her breath soft and steady as she drooled onto his jacket. the two of you had laughed quietly, careful not to wake her.  

“guess she’s making up for all the times it was you she drooled on instead,” he teased with a smirk, his voice warm and low.  

it was in that fragile, golden moment that the words you’d been holding back tumbled out. “baekhyun, i... i’ve been feeling so awful. i’m not saying this for pity, i just—every time i see you with her, the guilt claws at me. i can’t believe i kept her from you for so long…i’m so sorry.”  

your voice cracked, and then there were tears—hot, stinging, relentless.  

baekhyun stopped in his tracks, his steps crunching against the gravel path as he gently grabbed your arm. his touch was firm but steady, grounding. he turned you to face him, his gaze steady, unwavering.  

“hey,” he said softly, his voice pulling you out of your spiral. “what matters is now. and the future. i trust you, and i know you won’t keep her from me again. i’ve forgiven you... but maybe it’s time you forgave yourself.”  

his words settled over you like a balm, soothing and unyielding, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of your guilt began to feel a little lighter. 

you’re pulled from your thoughts by the soft click of her bedroom door, the quiet shuffle of baekhyun’s steps filling the silence as he makes his way toward you. you know the sound of his walk so well, even after all these years. it’s comforting, familiar—the same measured rhythm, the same ease. in so many ways, he hasn’t changed. his laugh, his warm personality, the way his eyes crinkle into crescent moons when he smiles.  

“she’s out,” he announces from the hallway, his voice soft but tinged with satisfaction as he spots you at the dining table.  

you hand him the glass of wine you’d poured moments before, holding it out like a peace offering. “this is for all your hard work,” you tease, a light grin tugging at your lips.  

he chuckles, the sound low and warm as he takes the glass from your hand, his fingers grazing yours for a fleeting second. the touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, unexpected but unmistakable, and you quickly avert your gaze, staring down at the table like it holds all the answers.  

he settles into the chair beside you, close enough that you can feel the faint warmth radiating from him. you sip your wine, trying to steady yourself, before speaking. “so... have you and soo talked about setting up a time to meet her?”  

his face shifts at the mention of her name. the change is subtle but telling—a flicker of discomfort, the kind you can’t unsee once you notice it.  

“yeah,” he says after a pause, his fingers fidgeting with the stem of the wine glass. he takes a sip before continuing, his tone quieter now. “i actually wanted to talk to you about her.”  

your heart sinks, unease settling in your chest like a stone. “oh?” you ask, cautious. “is everything okay?”  

the worst thoughts swirl in your mind, a storm of possibilities. maybe she doesn’t want baekhyun spending time with minji. maybe she’s uncomfortable with you being part of the equation.  

he exhales sharply, his thumb brushing against the rim of the glass. “yeah... i mean, i guess.” there’s a pause, a weight to his words that makes you hold your breath. “the engagement’s been called off.” his voice is steady, almost too steady, as if rehearsed.  

your jaw drops before you can stop it. the shock is written all over your face, and baekhyun winces at your reaction, his gaze darting away. you quickly compose yourself, snapping your mouth shut as heat rises to your cheeks. “what happened?” you blurt, the words spilling out before you can think twice. “you seemed... so happy.”  

your voice falters, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve overstepped. the weight of your question lingers between you, heavy and unspoken, and you brace yourself for whatever comes next. 

“i was. or... at least, i thought i was,” he says, his voice low and almost hesitant, as if he’s afraid to admit it even to himself. his hand moves to his hair, ruffling it in that familiar way he always did when the weight of his thoughts pressed too hard on him. a reflex, a habit you never forgot.

“and then you walked back into my life.” his voice is quiet, but there’s a rawness to it, like he’s pulling the words straight from the deepest part of him. your breath hitches, the air between you growing unbearably still as his gaze locks onto yours. there’s something in his eyes—something aching, desperate, like he’s trying to hold himself together while unraveling all at once.

“with her,” he continues, his voice breaking just enough to make your chest tighten, “this little girl who’s... everything. everything i didn’t know i was missing. she’s you and me, all tangled up in the most perfect way.” he swallows hard, his jaw clenching as though he’s fighting to steady himself. “and suddenly, nothing else makes sense anymore. not without you. not without her.”

the moment those words left his lips, the air seemed to shift. everything stilled—the hum of the world faded into silence, leaving only the thunderous echo of your heartbeat in your ears. had he really said that? the words hung between you, raw and unguarded, threatening to unravel everything you thought you understood.  

his eyes searched yours, hesitant but resolute, as if willing you to see the truth in his gaze. when he spoke again, his voice softened, carrying a weight that made your breath hitch. “and the more time i spent with you both... the more i realized you’re what i want. you and minji. you’re what i really want in my life.”  

his confession hit you with the force of a tidal wave, knocking the air from your lungs. you felt the ground tilt beneath you, the walls you’d carefully built around your heart quaking under the pressure of his words.  

“baekhyun…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your chest tightening as you forced yourself to ask, “are you… are you serious?”  

but you already knew the answer. you could see it, clear as day, in the way his gaze didn’t waver. 

“we can take our time… start slow,” baekhyun exhales, his voice carrying the weight of his confession as if it had been lodged in his chest for years. the vulnerability in his tone is raw, unguarded, and it almost makes you forget to breathe. “i mean… if that’s what you want, too.”  

his words trail off, and for a moment, his usual confidence falters. a quiet doubt creeps into his thoughts—what if you’ve moved on? what if you don’t want this? the possibility churns in his mind, making him feel smaller, suddenly unsure.  

“sorry,” he blurts out, shaking his head, gaze dropping to the floor. “i shouldn’t have said that—”  

“no,” you interrupt, your voice firm but gentle, grounding him. your hand finds his, your fingers curling around his in a touch that feels achingly familiar, as though no time has passed. the warmth of his skin against yours sends a spark racing through your veins, a reassurance you didn’t realize you both needed.  

he looks up, his eyes wide with hesitation, and you hold his gaze. “i’d… actually like that,” you admit, your voice softer now, a smile tugging at your lips. “start slow and see where we go.”  

his shoulders visibly relax, and the faintest glimmer of hope flickers in his eyes. he squeezes your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, and for the first time in a long time, it feels like the two of you are stepping into something whole and unbroken.  

two weeks later, you stood in front of your closet, the door wide open and a growing pile of discarded clothes spilling onto the floor. 

you were getting ready for a date.  

with baekhyun.  

your first date as parents.  

the thought made your stomach flip with nerves and excitement. it felt surreal, almost like stepping into a story you didn’t dare dream for yourself. but as much as the idea of this new beginning thrilled you, the reality of your wardrobe—or lack thereof—was starting to feel like a nightmare.  

minji was spending the evening with chanyeol and nari, her overnight bag already packed and slung over chanyeol’s shoulder when he came to pick her up. you couldn’t miss the way his expression shifted when you told him the reason for the favor, his smile faltering for the briefest second.  

“it’s just dinner,” you’d explained softly. “we’re taking things slow, seeing where it goes.”  

chanyeol had nodded, his lips pressing into a tight line. he couldn’t quite mask the pain in his eyes, though he tried.  

“of course,” he’d said eventually, his voice steady despite the storm you could feel brewing beneath. “you know i’m always here for you…and minji.”  

because that was just who chanyeol was—a steady, selfless anchor, even when it hurt.  

now, as you tore through hangers and drawers, you glanced at your phone, a spike of panic shooting through you. less than two hours. how had the time slipped away so fast?  

you groaned, flopping onto your bed as you stared at the heap of options that just weren’t right. nothing screamed ‘first date with the father of your child.’ nothing said ‘i’m nervous but excited and maybe a little terrified but i also want to look stunning.’  

baekhyun.  

you imagined the moment baekhyun would arrive, the image of him clear in your mind as if he were already standing at your door. he’d look effortlessly polished, the way only he could manage—like he’d stepped out of a magazine without even trying. his shirt would probably hug his lean frame just right, the soft fabric teasing at the lines of his shoulders and chest. his hair, always perfectly imperfect, would fall into place with a casualness that made you suspect he’d only run his fingers through it once before heading out.  

and then there were his eyes—those warm, honeyed depths that had a way of making the world feel quieter, smaller. they carried a quiet determination now, a depth that hadn’t always been there, like the years apart had reshaped him, sharpened his focus. you could almost see the subtle tilt of his lips when he caught sight of you, a smile that wasn’t overly practiced but natural, like it belonged there because you did.  

he never needed much time to get ready, and yet he always looked like he did. that was the thing about baekhyun—everything about him was easy, seamless, like he existed in his own effortless rhythm. it wasn’t about the clothes he chose or the way he styled his hair; it was about the energy he carried, the quiet confidence that drew people in.  

and tonight, he’d be coming to pick you up—not just as the baekhyun you’d known before, but as someone determined to start fresh, someone who wanted to show you that maybe, just maybe, this could really work out.  

you exhaled deeply, steadying yourself as you slid off the bed. pull it together, you thought, brushing your curled hair out of your face. tonight wasn’t just another evening—it felt like the start of something new, something tentative and hopeful, and you wanted to look the part. not just for baekhyun, but for yourself. you wanted to feel like the best version of you—the woman you were before, and the woman you were becoming.  

your eyes drifted toward the top of your closet, where an old, forgotten box rested among stacks of seasonal items and spare blankets. a spark of hope flickered. you vaguely remembered stuffing your pre-pregnancy clothes up there, unable to let them go but convinced they might never fit again. now, that box felt like a treasure chest waiting to be rediscovered.  

grabbing a step ladder, you climbed carefully, brushing the thick layer of dust from the box’s lid before tugging it down. a cloud of nostalgia seemed to escape as you peeled it open. there they were—rows of fabrics, textures, and memories you hadn’t touched in years. silky blouses, form-fitting dresses, sleek skirts... all the outfits you used to wear when going out felt like a second skin.  

you sifted through them, piece by piece, fingers grazing over familiar fabrics as your heart swelled with a mix of apprehension and excitement. you pulled out a sleek dress, holding it up against yourself in the mirror. to your delight—and a little disbelief—it still fit, hugging your post-pregnancy curves in ways that made you feel both proud and beautiful.  

you were finishing the last touches on your hair and makeup when the doorbell rang, slicing through the air like a sudden jolt. a flutter of butterflies stirred in your stomach, their wings beating furiously as nerves surged through you all at once. instinctively, you reached for your perfume, spritzing it lightly over your neck, the familiar scent wrapping around you like a soft, comforting embrace.  

you took a long, steadying breath, eyes tracing your reflection in the mirror, checking every detail—the delicate curve of your lashes, the soft glow of your skin, the way your lips curved just right. you stepped back, allowing yourself a moment to really see the woman in front of you. had it really been so long since you dressed up like this? for anyone? the question lingered in the air.  

and then it hit you, clear as day. it had been since baekhyun. a quiet chuckle escaped your lips as you shook your head, bemused by the realization. there was something about tonight that felt different, something about this moment, this new chapter, that made everything feel... significant.  

with a final glance at your reflection, you straightened up, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. you walked toward the door, each step a little more deliberate, a little more full of purpose. this wasn’t just a date. this was something else entirely.

when the door swung open and baekhyun saw you, his breath hitched, the air suddenly too thick to pull into his lungs. his gaze swept over you, deliberate and slow, as if his mind needed time to register every curve, every detail, every shimmer of the fabric that clung to you. his heart thundered in his chest, a wild rhythm he couldn’t control, and for a moment, all he could do was stare.

you were devastating. the dress—that dress—hugged you perfectly, its soft sheen catching the dim hallway light, every subtle movement making it seem alive, as though it had been designed for this exact moment. it was the same one you’d worn before, in a memory he kept locked away for years. back then, you’d twirled in front of him, laughing, your joy so infectious it had carved itself into his soul. seeing it again now, seeing you now, was almost too much.

but this wasn’t just a walk down memory lane. this wasn’t then. everything was different now—he was different, you were different. yet, somehow, that pull between you felt as raw and undeniable as it had the first time he’d laid eyes on you.

except now, you weren’t just the girl he’d loved with everything in him, the girl he’d lost, the girl he thought he’d never have again. you were minji’s mother. his daughter’s mother. and seeing you like this—so stunning it almost hurt—sent a new kind of longing through him. it wasn’t just want, though god, he wanted you. it was need, aching and all-consuming, a yearning that went far beyond physical desire. he needed to prove himself, to prove that he could be more for you, for minji. that this time, he wouldn’t let you slip away.

his hands twitched at his sides, desperate to reach for you, to touch, to hold, to pull you close enough to feel the warmth of your body against his. the temptation was staggering, nearly unbearable. his mind flickered with flashes of all the ways he wanted you—how it would feel to bury his face in your neck, to whisper promises against your skin, to hear you say his name like you used to.

but he held himself back, swallowing hard, locking it all down. not now. he couldn’t rush this. he couldn’t risk ruining it.

when his eyes met yours, his lips curved into the softest of smiles, one that didn’t quite mask the storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface. “you…” he paused, his voice catching before he found it again. “you look incredible.” the words came out low, steady, but there was no mistaking the weight behind them.

for a brief second, his eyes dropped back to the dress, his mind betraying him with an image of it lying forgotten on the floor, of you in his arms, of everything he was fighting to keep at bay. the thought made his chest tighten, and he let out a soft chuckle, as if to diffuse the tension he felt coiled so tightly within him.

but he didn’t move. not yet. instead, he let the moment stretch, imagining the day when he wouldn’t have to hold back, when he wouldn’t have to hesitate. when he could love you the way he wanted to—completely, without fear, without doubt, without restraint.

after dinner, the two of you strolled back to your place, the night humming with the warmth of shared laughter and lingering glances. the soft glow of streetlights cast a golden sheen over everything, making the world feel dreamlike, almost suspended in time. the wine coursing through your veins made the air lighter, the edges of reality softer, as though nothing truly mattered except the man walking beside you.

when you reached the door, your fingers fumbled with the keys, the metal slipping awkwardly in your grasp. you giggled, a sound so sweet it made baekhyun’s chest tighten. he stood behind you, his presence warm and steady, his hands gently finding their way to your waist. his touch was light, but it burned in the most delicious way.

“need a hand?” he asked, his voice low, teasing, his breath grazing your ear as he leaned closer.

you turned your head just slightly, your smile playful. “please,” you murmured, trying—and failing—to mask the way his closeness made your pulse quicken.

together, you managed to coax the door open, his hand guiding yours with a deliberate slowness that made you shiver. once inside, he closed the door behind him with a quiet click, the sound reverberating through the stillness of the space.

“nightcap?” you asked, your tone casual, though the mischief in your eyes betrayed you. your cheeks were warm, not just from the wine but from the way his gaze lingered, heavy and intent.

baekhyun didn’t answer right away. his eyes stayed locked on you, tracing the curve of your cheek, the way your lips curled into that familiar, teasing grin. his gaze dipped lower, lingering on the dress that clung to you like a second skin. that dress. the one he couldn’t stop thinking about all night, the one he wanted to peel off you with his teeth.

he swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he fought to keep himself in check. the air between you thickened, crackling with an unspoken tension. he took a slow, deliberate step closer, the movement barely noticeable, but the way his eyes darkened said everything his lips couldn’t.

“yeah,” he finally murmured, his voice low, rough around the edges. “a nightcap sounds good.”

but it wasn’t the drink he wanted. no, the only thing he wanted was standing right in front of him, flushed and radiant, looking at him with eyes that could undo him in a heartbeat. every instinct screamed at him to close the space, to kiss you breathless, to pull you into him and never let go. but he didn’t. not yet. he was holding onto a thread of control, as thin and fragile as the air between you.

for now, he could wait. but god, you were making it impossible.

he could barely hold himself together, his self-control stretched thinner with each passing second. honestly, he deserved an award—no, a damn medal—for the composure he managed to keep throughout dinner. every moment was its own quiet war, every glance from you a calculated blow, every soft laugh a fatal shot to his already fragile defenses. your presence was a sweet, maddening intoxication, pulling him under in waves he couldn’t escape.

the way you looked at him—those eyes full of something gentle, something tender, something that felt like home—was almost his undoing. his fingers curled tightly against his thighs, his knuckles blanching as he fought the urge to reach for you. your smile, radiant and unguarded, had him aching in ways he thought he’d forgotten, stirring something raw and desperate in the pit of his stomach. and your voice—god, your voice—danced through the air, warm and melodic, like the first song he’d ever loved.

and then there were those moments when you looked at him, really looked at him. it was in the softness of your gaze, the way it lingered a second too long, the way it stripped him bare without a single word. it was as if you still saw him—truly saw him—the way you used to, back when you were his. that look, full of unspoken truths, clung to him like an echo, whispering things he didn’t dare hope for. you still love me. you still love me. the thought struck like lightning, leaving him dazed and breathless, his pulse thundering in his ears.

his chest tightened with the weight of it all—the yearning, the disbelief, the sheer impossibility of the moment. it was as though everything that had gone wrong, all the time that had stretched between you, suddenly dissolved, rendered meaningless in the face of this. it was just the two of you now, the world fading into a blurry background, holding its breath as if waiting for him to do what every fiber of his being screamed for: close the distance.

the need was relentless, searing through him like fire. his fingers twitched with the urge to touch you, to cradle your face in his hands and trace the contours of your cheek, to see if your skin still felt as soft as he remembered. his lips burned with the craving to kiss you, to taste the laughter that had tormented him all night, to claim the love he had been starving for since the day you walked away.

it had been almost four agonizing years since you left him behind, taking the light of his world with you. he thought he’d buried the pain, that he’d learned to live with the emptiness you left. but now, here you were, so close he could hear the rhythm of your breaths, feel the warmth radiating from your skin. and he realized with a clarity that stole the air from his lungs: none of that pain mattered anymore. not the silence, not the heartbreak, not the years. all that mattered was you—here, now, in front of him.

his breath hitched at the thought, and he found himself imagining what it would feel like when he finally kissed you again. his lips hovering just inches from yours, the space between you crackling with tension. he could already feel the pull, that same magnetic connection that had always been there, waiting for the moment he could touch you. and when their lips finally met, he knew—he knew—it would be just like before. that same sweetness, that same softness, the curve of your lips fitting perfectly against his, like you were always meant to belong to him.

no one had ever kissed him the way you did. no one else had ever left him breathless, drowning in the intensity of it, as if your kiss had the power to remake him. and god, he wanted it again. needed it.

he wanted you, wanted you so badly, the need pooling in his chest, a hot, tight ache he couldn’t ignore. he could already taste you, feel the warmth of your lips beneath his. he remembered how your kiss had once made him feel weightless, like he was falling into something beautiful, intoxicating. it was all he’d thought about the entire night. 

and the way you looked now, that dress clinging to you like it had all those years ago, just made him ache even more. he couldn’t stop the images running through his mind—ripping it off of you, feeling your body pressed against his, tasting the sweetness of your kiss once again, just like he had done so many times before. the desire to feel you underneath him, to bury himself in the softness of you, was almost unbearable. he wanted it. he wanted you.

but instead, he nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “yeah,” he breathed, his voice thick with barely contained longing, “yeah, a nightcap sounds good.” 

his fingers twitched, wanting nothing more than to touch you, but he held himself back, feeling the heat rise between you both, a tension so thick it was almost unbearable.

"here, let me pour the drinks for us," he murmured, his voice low and steady as he took your jacket and purse, hanging them with a quiet care on the coat rack. 

you raised an eyebrow, teasing, "oh?" the corners of your lips twitched, fighting back a smile as you bit your bottom lip. your lashes fluttered lightly, casting delicate shadows across your cheeks as you met his gaze. "i’m just getting spoiled tonight, aren’t i?" you teased, the memory of how he'd practically wrestled the check from your hands earlier still fresh in your mind. it made you laugh softly, a sound that seemed to melt into the air.

but before you could say anything more, he was there, his hand coming up instinctively to cup your cheek. the warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, his thumb brushing lightly against the softness of your skin, tracing the curve of your cheek, your chin, and finally resting just below your lower lip. his touch was so gentle, so deliberate, and yet it stirred something deeper inside you—a quiet yearning that you were both trying to contain. 

you met his eyes, searching his face, knowing the unspoken truth before he even voiced it. you could see it—the way his gaze lingered, the way his breath hitched just slightly as he studied you. he wanted to kiss you. you could feel the tension rising, thick and palpable between you, but still, he held back, the weight of restraint pressing on him.

not wanting to push him, you offered him a sweet, reassuring smile, the kind that spoke of understanding without words. the sight of it seemed to stop him in his tracks, and his heart skipped a beat, his breath catching in his throat. 

baekhyun’s lips curved into a playful smirk. “spoiled?” he echoed, leaning in just slightly, enough for his voice to drop a fraction, rich and smooth. “c’mon, bun, i’m sure you remember what me spoiling you really looks like.”

his words hit like a soft nudge to a locked door, memories rushing in before you could stop them. you remembered the way he used to spoil you relentlessly back in college, how his love language seemed to be written in lavish gifts and thoughtful gestures. designer handbags you could never justify buying for yourself, delicate jewelry that always seemed to match the sparkle in his eyes when he fastened the clasps himself.

he’d surprise you with new outfits for events you didn’t even know you’d be attending until he planned them—your wardrobe practically transformed by his generosity. every time the newest iphone dropped, he’d make sure it was in your hands within days, complete with a customized case he knew you’d love. he’d slip his card to waiters or store clerks before you could even think to pay.

and then there were the practical things, like covering your car payments or arranging maintenance before you even realized you needed it, his way of taking care of you without ever making you feel small for it. he never wanted you to stress, and you’d laugh at the absurdity of it all while secretly melting at the way he seemed to know what you needed before you did.

baekhyun had money. plenty of it. his family’s wealth wasn’t something he flaunted, but it was there, shaping the way he provided for you. your family wasn’t poor, but you didn’t have the same financial ease. you worked hard for the things you had, but baekhyun never made you feel less than, never made you uncomfortable about it. his quiet humility and the way he never flaunted his wealth made it all feel normal—money was never the issue. it was always about the love you shared.

you swallowed hard, heat creeping up your neck as you met his gaze again. his eyes were on you now, softer but still teasing, as if he could tell exactly where your thoughts had gone. “besides” he murmured, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “i’m just making up for lost time. can you blame me?”

one glass turned into two, then three, each sip loosening the tension in the air, but also building something new between you, something heady and electric. laughter spilled from your lips, the sound light and careless, but underneath it, a growing warmth that neither of you could ignore. the night seemed to blur around the edges, the wine clouding your thoughts, making everything softer, more daring. 

the bottles emptied one by one, their presence a witness to the hours that had melted away as you lingered in each other’s company. the glasses tipped over, forgotten, their contents pooling on the floor like spilled memories. it didn’t matter. nothing mattered except the way he looked at you—intensely, as if every part of him was drawn to you in a way that left him no choice but to pull you closer. 

and then, he kissed you.

it was slow at first, almost tentative, like he was relearning the shape of your lips, the rhythm of your breath. but it didn’t stay that way for long. in an instant, the kiss deepened, the years of separation melting into a blur of heat and urgency. his hands found your waist, pulling you closer—closer, until you were climbing into his lap, your legs straddling him without hesitation.

his mouth was scorching, addictive, just like you remembered. it was the taste of him, rich like wine but unmistakably him—a flavor you thought you’d buried, but now you realized you could never forget. his kisses were messy, hungry, each one leaving you breathless as soft moans and breathless whimpers slipped between you. his hands roamed with purpose, sliding down to cup your ass, pulling you flush against him. his grip was firm, possessive, so achingly familiar that it made your head spin.

you felt the growing bulge beneath you, hard and urgent, straining against his pants. the pressure sent a sharp jolt of need straight to your core, igniting a fire you couldn’t ignore. warmth pooled between your legs, soaking you as your hips rocked instinctively against him. a deep, guttural groan escaped him, vibrating against your lips as you kissed him harder, hungrier.

“i missed you,” you breathed, the words tumbling from your lips as they traveled to the curve of his neck. you nipped at the sensitive skin below his ear, the spot you knew drove him wild. sure enough, a soft, desperate moan spilled from him, and you smiled against his skin, savoring the sound of him unraveling beneath you.

"i love you, bun," he whispered, his voice soft yet heavy with meaning, a tremor of raw emotion in every word. his gaze, unwavering and intense, locked onto yours, as if he could reach inside you with just a look. his lips brushed yours, so lightly it almost felt like a delicate promise. "i... i don’t think i ever stopped."

the words crashed into you, like a wave breaking against the shore, unexpected yet inevitable. your heart skipped, breath caught in your chest as the depth of his confession wrapped around you, pulling you under. "i love you, too, baekhyun," you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper, but steady—anchored in the truth that had always been there, buried beneath the years of silence. "i never stopped."

and then, his lips were on yours again, and it was as if the world snapped back into place, the pieces aligning with the force of your shared confession. finally, it felt like home. like you were where you were always meant to be. your body responded instinctively, moving closer, desperate to feel the heat that had always simmered between you two. you ground against him, slow, deliberate, an aching need rising in you both. the friction between you sent jolts of electricity through your veins, a fire sparking to life as you felt him tense beneath you, his hands tightening on your hips.

for a brief moment, you thought he'd pull you in fully, lose himself in the moment as much as you were. but instead, his body went rigid, stilling beneath you as if every muscle had locked in place.

"wait—" his voice cracked, the sound thick with a dangerous mix of yearning and restraint. his hands stilled your movements, holding you in place. you could feel his chest rise and fall beneath you, shallow breaths betraying the storm inside him. "i don’t want to pressure you into anything you’re not ready for. i know we agreed to take things slow. i can wait."

his words cut through the haze of your desire, stopping you dead in your tracks. the sincerity in his eyes hit you like a tidal wave. he was holding back—for you. 

for you. 

the ache in your chest was sharp, but in the best possible way.

without saying a word, you reached down, sliding his hand beneath your dress, guiding him to where you were already burning. his breath caught when his fingers brushed against your bare skin. his eyes widened, shock crossing his features as he realized you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

"feel how wet you’ve made me?" you whispered, your lips grazing his ear, your voice low, sultry, teasing. the way his chest moves as his breathing becomes more deeper, heavier as if it’s taking everything in him not to put his fingers to work on that sloppy cunt of yours. you could feel his restraint fraying, and you couldn’t help but smile.

"still think i wanna take things slow?" you teased, your thumb tracing the curve of his bottom lip, urging him to act.

you could feel his body tremble under your touch, his hands shaking slightly as he adjusted, his fingers just barely grazing where you needed him most. the hunger in his eyes was almost unbearable, and you leaned in closer, brushing your lips over his jaw, waiting for him to break.

his composure shattered. his eyes fluttered shut as you brought his slick-coated fingers to your mouth, your tongue swirling around them slowly, deliberately. the taste of yourself on him was heady, and you sucked his fingers clean, the act sending a shiver down his spine.

“fuck,” he groaned, his voice thick with hunger. “ya sure about this, bun?” each syllable a desperate plea as his restraint teetered dangerously close to breaking.

you nodded, eyes wide and shimmering with a mix of innocence and promise. your lashes fluttered like the softest caress as you looked up at him, lips swollen and bruised from his fevered kisses, a delicate pout lingering on them. the sight of made his dick twitch. “always been sure when it comes to you, baek.”

the words hit him like a wave, and with a shuddering sigh, he couldn’t hold back anymore. his lips crashed against yours, possessive and hungry, claiming you as if he’d never get another chance. one arm wrapped around your head, fingers threading through your hair with a desperate need, while the other hand slid to your ass, squeezing it roughly. his grip tightened, a subtle warning, but you could feel the way his muscles strained, the raw tension in his touch. every press of his fingers into your skin felt like a brand, like he was marking you, anchoring himself to you. his touch was a blaze, a wildfire that scorched you in the best way, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear an inch of distance.

and then the world tilted.

with a surge of power and urgency, he lifted you without hesitation—strong, commanding, as though he was claiming you in the most primal of ways. a breathless gasp escaped your lips, the sound of surprise barely escaping before his hands cradled you, holding you as if you were made of something more fragile than glass. he held you with reverence, but there was an edge to it, a possessiveness that promised he would never let you go.

his breath is heavy against your neck, warm and uneven, betraying the restraint he’s barely holding onto. your body is pressed tightly to his chest, his heart pounding against yours, every beat echoing the unspoken promises that linger in the air. each step he takes toward your bedroom is deliberate, charged, as though the distance is unbearable, as if he can’t get you there fast enough. 

"shit," he muttered, his voice rough and low as he lowered you onto the edge of your bed. the realization hit him like a tidal wave, cold and relentless, stealing his focus. his gaze flickered to yours, a storm of panic swirling in his eyes. “i didn’t bring any condoms. do you… do you have any?”

his question lingered in the air, heavy and unspoken, cutting deeper than the surface. the knot in his stomach tightened, the thought of someone else touching you during the time apart clawing at his insides. he hated the idea more than he cared to admit.

your laughter cut through the tension, soft but laced with something playful, a gentle ring that seemed to fill the space between you. "no, baek," you replied, your voice a breathless melody. "i haven’t had sex—well, any action, really—since you." the confession slipped out before you could stop it, and though a blush bloomed on your cheeks, you held his gaze. there was a flicker of vulnerability in your eyes, but it only made his heart race faster.

his breath hitched audibly, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. his heartbeat thundered in his ears, his chest rising and falling with the weight of your words. “you’re serious?” he whispered, disbelief laced with something else—pride. his lips curved upward into a slow, cocky grin, the kind that made your stomach flip. the thought of you untouched by anyone else since him fed something primal, something possessive.

you nodded, your teeth sinking into your lip like you were weighing the impact of your words. embarrassment rushed to your neck, but it was quickly replaced by the heat of his stare. it burned through you, molten and unwavering, making your heart thrum harder with every passing second.

“fuck,” he rasped, the word almost guttural, like he couldn’t contain the surge of raw emotion. it was your turn to smile, a cocky glint lighting up your eyes. but when he spoke again, the weight of his confession hit you harder than you expected.

"i haven’t gone raw in anyone since you."

the words hung heavy in the air, suffocating with meaning. the way he said it, so casually, like it was a fact that only made sense in the world he had built around you, made your pulse spike. it was everything—the promise, the truth. your knees weakened at the depth of his gaze, molten like a fire you couldn’t escape.

"d’ya trust me, bun?" he whispered, voice low, the words slipping from his lips with a possessive kind of hunger.

you swallowed thickly, your breath coming out uneven, heart pounding in your throat. your pulse raced, and despite the weight of his question, you somehow found your voice, breathless and full of raw honesty.

“with my life.”

his lips curled into that signature, boyish grin that had always undone you, a glint of mischief dancing in his darkened eyes. 

without hesitation, he closed the distance between you, his hands brushing the smooth, delicate skin of your arms before they drifted to the zipper at your back. in one seamless motion, his fingers tugged at the fabric, pulling your dress down with a fluid grace that seemed almost too effortless, as if he’d done it a thousand times before. the fabric slid off you like a memory, slipping to the floor as he guided you back onto the pillows, leaving you bare under the weight of his gaze.

his breath faltered as he drank you in, his eyes tracing every inch of your skin, the intensity of his hunger for you pressing against him like an ache that made his chest tighten. "god," he breathed out, the word barely escaping his lips as if he was speaking to himself more than to you, his hands gently exploring your exposed body like he was memorizing it, as though each touch could never be repeated.

but then it came—the surge of insecurity, creeping in from the edges of your mind like a dark cloud, unwelcome and cold. without thinking, you crossed your arms over your body, your hands instinctively covering the soft curves you’d learned to live with, but had never quite come to accept.

baekhyun saw it instantly. the shift in you, the way you tried to pull away, to hide. his expression softened, his gaze darkening with understanding as he stepped closer. his voice, low and steady, was a balm to your wounded confidence. “don’t you ever feel the need to hide from me,” he murmured, each word laced with an unspoken promise. his hands were gentle, yet firm, as he took hold of your wrists, slowly guiding them away from your body and placing them at your sides. the weight of his touch was reassuring, a silent command for you to trust him, to trust that he saw you—all of you—and that was all he wanted.

his touch was almost ethereal, like a whisper against your skin. his fingertips grazed the curve of your breasts, lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch. “bigger,” he murmured, the word thick with admiration, as if discovering something new about you—something he’d always known he wanted. his hands traveled lower, tracing the lines of your waist, feeling the soft expansion of your hips beneath his palms.

when his fingers brushed over the subtle stretch marks on your ass, a low, guttural groan escaped him, the sound vibrating through the air between you. his body tensed, his desire unmistakable, radiating off of him in waves. “god, you’re so beautiful,” he said, his gaze never leaving the soft, inviting shape of your body, as if memorizing every inch of you.

his hand drifted to your stomach, his finger moving with slow deliberation, drawing a path down the center of your abdomen, a slow, torturous line that set your nerves alight. “you’re gonna feel me,” he rasped, his voice husky, the words carrying a weight of promise. his thumb pressed gently into the sensitive skin just above your belly button, sending a shiver spiraling through your body. “right here,” he murmured, his eyes locking with yours—dark, smoldering, intense with intent.

the teasing, the way he looked at you like you were something precious, something intoxicating—it was too much. your hands clenched at the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer, the need to feel him overwhelming. without a second thought, your lips crashed against his, urgent and desperate. the kiss was hungry, frantic, your mouths pressing against each other as you fumbled with the fabric of his clothes, your body burning for more.

his laugh rumbled against your lips, the sound low and rich as he pulled back just enough to smirk down at you. “eager, aren’t we?” 

you didn’t miss a beat, your fingers working at his waistband as you bit back, “just wanna see if you still know how to fuck me properly.”

his laugh deepened, full and throaty, as he shoved his boxers down, freeing his throbbing cock. “glad to see that smart mouth of yours hasn’t changed, bun,” he said, his grin wicked. he leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as he added, “i’ma have fun puttin’ it to good use later.” 

your breath hitched, your heart pounding in anticipation as he pressed closer, the weight of his words and his presence igniting every nerve in your body. 

he positions himself at your entrance, and your breath catches in your throat, heart pounding so hard you can feel it echo in your ears. the heat radiating from him, the subtle brush of his skin against yours, sends a shiver rippling through your body. his tip, swollen and leaking, nudges against you, dragging slowly through your wetness, teasing with a precision that makes your toes curl. 

he lingers at your entrance, just barely pressing in before retreating, spreading his precum and your slick together in a maddening rhythm. the sensation of his velvety tip gliding over your folds, grazing your clit, sends jolts of pleasure through your core. every deliberate movement feels like a silent taunt, a reminder of how much he’s savoring this moment—savoring you.

“baek, please,” you whimper, your voice trembling, desperate. your fingers clutch the sheets beneath you, nails digging in as if grounding yourself could somehow stave off the overwhelming need building inside you. tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as the relentless teasing pushes you closer to the edge of begging.

his own restraint is fraying, evident in the way his breath hitches, the way his hands tremble slightly as they grip your hips. he leans down, his forehead resting against yours, his dark eyes smoldering with a mix of lust and longing. “oh— fffuuuccck, i missed you,” he groans, his voice strained, thick with emotion and need.

his words barely register before he begins to push in, his throbbing tip stretching you inch by agonizing inch. the sensation of him filling you—so warm, so familiar yet impossibly intense—forces a soft gasp from your lips. he exhales sharply, his jaw clenched, savoring every second, every sensation, as though this moment is the only thing that matters in the world.

baekhyun’s gaze flickers to your face, catching the faint wince that creases your features, gone as quickly as it came, but not quick enough to escape him. his brows knit together, his concern palpable, etched into the soft lines of his expression. he stays perfectly still, his body taut with restraint, as if afraid to move and hurt you. the stretch stings, yes, but there’s something deeper beneath it—a delicious burn that ignites every nerve, leaving you teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure.

“baby, you good?” his voice is low, soft, a husky murmur that wraps around you like the warmest comfort, his tone threading worry with tenderness, his concern a steady anchor in the haze between you. his dark eyes search yours, flickering with a mix of restraint and hunger, like he’s balancing on the precipice of losing control but refusing to let it happen until you’re ready.

you nod, though your breath catches, a sharp inhale that betrays the lingering ache as you will yourself to adjust. you shift your hips slightly, testing, feeling the stretch give way to something deeper, something raw that tugs at your core and sets your pulse hammering.

he groans, low and guttural, a sound dragged from the depths of his chest as he feels you take him in just a little more. his breath stutters, breaking like a thread pulled too tight, his hands flexing where they rest on your hips. the sharp ache dissolves into heat, into a magnetic pull you can’t resist. his reaction tells you he’s just as wrecked as you are, caught in the unbearable tension of holding back when everything about this moment demands he let go.

baekhyun’s exhale shudders, his head tipping back as his grip on your hips tightens just enough to remind you of his control. “fuck,” he rasps, the word rough and shaky, his voice carrying a mix of awe and restraint. “i missed the way you feel around me.”

his words send a ripple of heat through you, raw and unfiltered, a confession of just how much you’re undoing him. his fingers dig into your skin, grounding him, though his gaze never strays from yours. the tension coils tighter with every passing second, his dark eyes blazing with something possessive, something unrelenting, as though he’s holding back the storm brewing just beneath the surface.

your need burns hotter, desperation clawing its way to the forefront. “baekhyun—,” you beg, the words tumbling out before you can catch them. “please... just hurry up and fuck me.”

the plea comes out shaky, your voice trembling with want, and for a moment, you feel utterly exposed. but the effect on him is instant. his lips curl into a slow, wicked smile, his expression one of pure, devastating control as if that's all he needed to hear. “as you wish, sweetheart,” he grunts, his voice thick with promise and unrestrained desire.

his hands tighten their hold on your hips, strong and commanding, as he shifts his position. with a flex of his arms, he lifts you with effortless strength, your body rising until you can feel the head of his cock stretching you once more. the tension builds, unbearable and heady, before he slams you down onto him in one fluid motion.

the force of it steals the breath from your lungs, the intensity of him filling you completely, stretching you to your limit. the sound that escapes you is ragged, a cry of pleasure that seems to echo in the air between you. baekhyun’s growl rumbles low in his chest, primal and rough, as his hips meet yours, bottoming out with a precision that leaves you trembling.

his movements are deliberate yet feral, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, his hands never leaving your body as if anchoring you to him. his need is palpable, pouring out in every motion, every flex of his muscles as he claims you with an intensity that sets every nerve ending alight.

“ya feel so fuckin’ perfect,” he groans against your skin, the words muffled but soaked in reverence as his lips press to your shoulder, your neck, anywhere he can reach. every motion, every sound, every touch pulls you deeper into him, blurring the lines between where you end and he begins.

he missed you. god, every inch of him missed you. it’s like his cock remembers every curve, every slick ridge of your walls, molding to him perfectly. and of course, he lets you know, his voice breaking into a string of desperate confessions. “f-fuck… m’sorry. ya squeezin’ me so tight. i think ‘m gonna cum soon hah– and ‘m gonna fuck it right back into this perfect—ngh—cunt.”

“hah—baek,” you whine, your voice trembling as you fully surrender to him. your body rocks helplessly in rhythm with his relentless thrusts, his cock plunging so deep it leaves you gasping. “s-so deep—hngh… can feel you here—” your hand snakes down, guiding his to press against your stomach, right where the swollen head of his cock is relentlessly hitting that devastatingly sweet spot.

his breath hitches, a low, disbelieving laugh huffing out as his fingers press into your skin. “fuck,” he groans, his eyes dark with lust, fixed on you, utterly wrecked beneath him. his hand is on top of the other as they press down over the slight bulge where he’s buried so deeply inside you. “feel that, baby? that’s me… stretching this pretty pussy out so good.”

his words send a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, and it’s too much—all of it, the weight of him, the filthy praise falling from his lips, the way his hands grip you like you’re something precious, even as he loses himself in you.

“baek—oh god!” your cry echoes through the room as your body shatters beneath him, the first orgasm of the night ripping through you with a force that leaves you trembling. his lips crash against yours, swallowing your desperate moans as his hand moves lower, fingers finding your clit in quick, precise circles. the overstimulation sends sparks shooting through your veins, the pleasure stretching, elongating, as he coaxes every last wave from you.

“that’s it—hah. cum for me angel,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice softening even as his hips keep their punishing rhythm, chasing his own release. “y'so perfect, baby. nngghh—so fuckin' perfect for me…and finally mine again.”

“been y-yours,” you hiss, dragging out the word as his crazed tip whacks itself against your sensitive spot. again, again, and again—he’s hitting against that same spot as if it were a target and he never misses. his frantic hits against your core causes your toes to curl and your back to arch even further as you’re slowly being brought closer to your orgasmic, teetering edge. “ffuuck! ‘m cumming again, baek, cumming.” 

your release crashes over you like a tidal wave, sweeping you into a realm that feels like heaven itself. your body gives out beneath the intensity, collapsing back against the mattress as baekhyun hovers over you, his breath hot and heavy. his tongue trails a slick, wet path down the curve of your neck, his touch a sinful mix of reverence and hunger as you unravel completely beneath him.

baekhyun’s body is pressed flush against yours, his every movement slow yet calculated, like he’s savoring each second, each inch, as if the world might steal you away from him again. the heat of his skin seeps into yours, the sheer intensity in his dark, lidded eyes making it impossible to look away. his breath is ragged, the sound mingling with the soft gasps spilling from your lips, the two of you lost in a rhythm that feels as natural as breathing.

“please,” he rasps, his voice cracking, raw with emotion. his forehead presses to yours, the touch grounding and desperate as he sinks deeper, his hips stuttering like the closeness of you is too much, too overwhelming to contain. “please, don’t fuckin’ leave me again.”

his words linger, heavy and aching, filling the space between you with the weight of every unspoken hurt, every moment lost. his fingers tighten on your hips, digging into your skin as though the feel of you beneath him is the only thing tethering him to reality. his thrusts grow erratic, uneven, each movement betraying the fragility of his control.

“nggghh—i think...” his voice falters, a low groan spilling from his lips as he buries his face into the curve of your neck. his mouth grazes your skin, reverent, desperate, the ghost of his breath hot and trembling against you. “i think i’ll die if you do. god, i can’t—i can’t spend another fuckin’ day without you.”

your heart clenches painfully, his vulnerability cutting straight through you like a blade. his body trembles against yours, every inch of him straining to keep you close, to pour everything he feels into the spaces between you. your fingers find their way into his hair, threading through the damp strands as you tug gently, coaxing him to meet your gaze.

his eyes lift, dark and glassy, brimming with emotion so unguarded it threatens to undo you. devotion, fear, yearning—they’re all there, laid bare and unfiltered.

“baekhyun,” you whisper, your voice a delicate tremor, barely audible over the shared gasps of breath between you. your hands cradle his face, fingertips brushing over the damp strands of his hair as if trying to ground him, to ground yourself, in this fragile, fleeting moment. “’m not going anywhere. i’m here... i’m yours. we’re yours.”

his breath catches, shuddering under the weight of your words, and a sound—fragile, broken—escapes him. he surges forward, pulling you closer, deeper, until it feels like he’s trying to fuse your souls together, to erase every inch of space between you. his thrusts are slower now, deliberate, every roll of his hips steeped in something more than desire—something raw and sacred, like a plea, a promise, an apology all at once.

your body arches into his, a guttural whine ripping from your throat as his cock pulses within your walls, stretching, filling, consuming. your muscles clench around him, your body dragging him deeper into your heat, and his control shatters like glass.

“f-fuckin’ shit,” he growls through gritted teeth, his hips jerking erratically as he spills into you, heat blooming deep inside, marking you in every sense of the word. the intensity steals the breath from your lungs, and as the waves of pleasure crash over you, pulling you under, your release spirals into his, the two of you breaking apart and piecing yourselves back together in the same breath.

his lips find yours, the kiss frantic and messy, a collision of tongues and teeth as if he’s trying to reclaim the time you spent apart. every ragged moan, every whispered curse and gasp fills the room, the air thick with the symphony of your shared need. the world outside fades, leaving only the two of you—entangled, desperate, and utterly consumed by the moment.

it’s not just lust, not just longing—it’s everything. years of heartache, love, and an aching, unrelenting need poured into every kiss, every thrust, every whispered vow that promises you’ll never leave each other again.

your walls clench around him again, coaxing more from him, and he groans deeply, his arms looping around your waist to anchor you to him. his grip is firm, almost desperate, holding your trembling hips in place as his thick, creamy release paints your insides. it’s obscene, the way it trickles down your shaking thighs, a messy, lewd reminder of everything he’s giving you. but baekhyun doesn’t stop—not yet. his hips slow, but only slightly, rolling into you with a lazy, unrelenting rhythm as if determined to fuck every drop back into you.

it’s filthy, yes, but there’s something almost tender in the way his lips brush against yours again, his deep moans muffled as his movements grow languid, sweet in their intensity. he nips at your bottom lip, his voice a teasing rasp when he finally pulls back just enough to speak, his forehead pressed to yours.

"how ’bout we give minji a sibling, huh?" the words spill from him, low and teasing, yet dripping with intent, his hips punctuating the question with a deliberate thrust that has you crying out.

your brain short-circuits, the world spinning as his cock drags against your sensitive walls. your head nods before you can even process his words, a frantic, needy motion as your body betrays just how utterly drunk you are on him. thinking straight? impossible. all you can manage is a breathless, choked moan of agreement, your fingers digging into his back as he continues to work you into oblivion."yeah?" your voice trembles, still riding the waves of your last high. "well, we’ve got all night to try."

the morning sun filtered softly through the trees as you stood at your front door, your body still humming with the afterglow of the night before. baekhyun’s car had just turned the corner, leaving behind the faint scent of his cologne and the weight of his goodbye kiss still lingering on your lips. you smiled to yourself, the memory of his warm hands on your waist and the way he’d looked at you all night filling you with a quiet joy.

but then your thoughts shifted, and a familiar ache settled in your chest. you glanced to your left, to chanyeol’s house, where your daughter, minji, was probably still fast asleep. you wondered when you should go pick her up, already missing the sound of her giggles and the way she always ran to you with open arms.

your gaze lingered on his house, warm affection for your daughter mingling with a twinge of guilt. chanyeol had been nothing but kind—stepping in to watch minji overnight so you and baekhyun could have this time together. but as your eyes traced the windows, movement caught your attention.

the curtain in the living room fluttered, a shadow shifting behind it before it was quickly pulled shut. the abruptness of the action made your heart sink. someone had been watching. you didn’t need to guess who.

your stomach twisted as the realization hit you. chanyeol.

the look on his face from last night flashed through your mind—the way his mouth had tightened, his expression faltering when you’d casually mentioned your plans with baekhyun. you’d tried to soften the blow, telling him you were "taking things slow," but now those words felt hollow, like a broken promise.

slow? the sight of you outside your front door in baekhyun’s shirt, kissing him goodbye, told a different story.

the weight of the moment pressed on you, guilt pooling heavy in your chest. chanyeol didn’t deserve this. he didn’t deserve to see this, to piece together the night you’d spent with baekhyun and feel whatever it was you knew he must be feeling.

for a second, you thought about knocking on his door, about saying something—anything—that might ease the tension now crackling in the air between your homes. but instead, you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to step inside your own door. maybe it was better this way, to let the moment settle, to deal with the aftermath later when your thoughts were clearer.

but as you shut the door behind you, your phone buzzed in your pocket.

chanyeol:

hey, can we talk?

a sigh escapes your lips, the guilt in your chest an ache that refuses to fade. you were already bracing for this conversation, knowing it had to happen, knowing you owed him this clarity. more than that, you still wanted him in your life—him and nari both. they had become such an integral part of your and minji's world, their presence a steady anchor in the chaos. you had to make sure he understood that.

your thumbs hover over the screen, the words forming before you can second-guess them.

yeah, i think we should, yeol.

chanyeol sits on the couch beside you, though the space between you feels like a canyon. it’s a noticeable difference from how he used to sit, closer, as if the world wasn’t big enough to separate the two of you.

he brought minji home a few minutes ago, fast asleep against his shoulder, her cheek pressed to him in the way only a child could manage, soft and unguarded. her little mouth hung open, a whisper of snores escaping as if the world around her didn’t exist. she’d been worn out from a full morning playing with his sister’s kids and nari, her tiny form so peaceful it made your heart ache. you’d both had quietly tucked her into bed together. and now here you were, back in the living room, perched on the edge of an unspoken conversation.

his sister had stopped by his place earlier this morning, her kids in tow for a chaotic playdate with nari and minji. she’d agreed to watch nari while chanyeol brought minji back home and you and him have this talk, though he’d been vague about why he needed the time. what was he supposed to say? “i’m going next door to talk to the girl i’ve been madly crushing on for over a year about seeing her kiss her ex-boyfriend and baby daddy and now i don’t know where i stand.” no. too messy. too raw. too much.

his jaw tightens, a small movement you barely catch out of the corner of your eye. the weight of his presence feels like it’s pressing against your chest, suffocating and grounding all at once. you glance at him, then quickly look away, unsure of how to start this conversation. unsure if you even can.

the silence between you stretches, awkward and heavy. you try to fill it with small talk, your voice soft. “how was minji last night?”

he glances at you, a smile tugging at his lips, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. there’s something pained in his expression, something restrained. “she was great. she always is.”

you smile faintly, but it fades as guilt bubbles in your chest. “look, chanyeol,” you start, your voice tentative, “i’m sorry for what you saw this morning. it probably didn’t make me look like ‘mother of the year.’” you pause, exhaling slowly. “i know i said baekhyun and i were going to take things slow, but… one thing led to another, and—”

“stop,” he interrupts, his voice sharp but not unkind. his hand comes up, almost reflexively, as if to shield himself from your words. he winces, and you know it’s because he’s picturing it—baekhyun’s hands on you, his lips on yours. where chanyeol wishes his own could be.

his shoulders slump as he exhales, the tension in his body evident. his face is a mosaic of emotions—hurt, frustration, resignation. “i don’t think i want to hear the details… about what happened with you and baekhyun.”

the air grows heavier, his words filling the space between you. for a moment, neither of you speaks. then, he sighs again, his voice quieter this time, softer. “i just came to say that i get it.”

you blink, caught off guard. “you do?”

he nods, his gaze falling to his hands, which rest loosely in his lap. “yeah,” he says, the word heavy with a weight he’s carried for longer than you probably realize. “i always knew your heart was still with him. filled with him. i thought that maybe, over time, with me… and nari… we—i—would fill it instead.” his voice cracks slightly, and he clears his throat, forcing himself to go on. “but then he came along. and even then, i was still foolish enough to believe i had a chance.”

your heart clenches, the rawness in his voice cutting deeper than any accusation ever could.

he looks up at you, his eyes earnest despite the ache swimming in them. “but i just want you to know… don’t feel guilty. about this. about me. nari and i—we’ll still be here for you and minji. always.”

his words hit you like a wave, and you’re left staring at him, your chest tight and your throat dry. there’s no anger in his voice, no bitterness, just an overwhelming sense of loss and quiet acceptance.

and somehow, that hurts even more.

you open your mouth, but no words come out. what can you possibly say to that? to a man who has just stripped himself bare, laying his feelings and heartbreak at your feet without a hint of resentment? guilt swirls in your stomach, heavy and unrelenting, but beneath it is something softer—gratitude.

“chanyeol,” you finally manage, your voice quiet, shaky. “i… i don’t even know where to start.” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, a nervous habit you’ve had for as long as you can remember. “i never meant to hurt you. i swear, i didn’t.”

his smile is small, sad, and fleeting. “i know.”

“you mean so much to me,” you continue, your voice gaining strength. “and not just because you’ve been so good to minji and me, but because you’re… you’re you. you’ve been a constant in our lives when everything else felt so uncertain.”

his gaze flickers to yours, and the weight of his emotions is almost too much to bear.

“but,” you add, hesitating because the truth feels like a betrayal, “i can’t lie to you. when baekhyun came back, it stirred up so much that i thought i’d buried. i thought i’d moved on, but… seeing him again…” you trail off, unsure how to finish without twisting the knife further.

“i get it,” he says softly, sparing you the need to say more.

“i don’t deserve you,” you whisper, shaking your head. “you’ve been nothing but kind and patient, and i hate that i’ve put you in this position. but… thank you. for everything. for understanding, for being here, for—”

“don’t,” he cuts you off gently, his voice firm but kind. “don’t thank me like this is the end of something. nari and minji are still best friends, and i’m not going anywhere. you don’t get rid of me that easily.”

his attempt at humor coaxes a faint smile from you, though the tears welling in your eyes threaten to spill over. “you’re too good, you know that?”

he shrugs, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in something that’s almost a smile. “or maybe i just have bad timing.”

you both fall silent again, the unspoken understanding settling between you like a fragile truce. you want to hug him, to thank him properly, but you know it’s not what he needs right now. instead, you place a hand on his, squeezing it gently.

“i’m sorry,” you say again, your voice barely above a whisper.

he squeezes back, his touch warm despite the distance he’s trying to keep. “me too.”

and with that, the moment shifts, leaving behind a bittersweet ache that doesn’t feel quite like an ending but more like an understanding—a quiet closure to what could have been. as chanyeol stands to leave, his hand moves instinctively, gently cupping your chin. his thumb grazes the soft curve of it, a gesture so intimately familiar it almost feels like a promise.

his eyes meet yours, but this time, there’s no playful glint, no trace of hope lingering there. instead, his gaze is calm, tinged with a bittersweet acceptance that sits heavy in the space between you. his lips pull into a small, wistful smile—warm enough to remind you of the connection you once shared but tempered by the reality that things have changed.

“we’ll be okay,” he says softly, the weight of his words lingering in the air. “nari and i… we’ll always be here for you and minji. that doesn’t change.”

his voice is steady, not heavy with regret but grounded in the knowledge that some paths aren’t meant to intertwine the way he might have once hoped. and as he steps back, the warmth of his touch fades, but not in a way that feels cold or distant.

instead, it feels like understanding.

he hesitates for a moment, the faintest flicker of something unreadable crossing his face, but then he nods slightly, his smile growing just enough to feel reassuring. “see you around, yeah?”

“yeah,” you manage, your voice soft but steady.

with that, he turns and walks out the door—not leaving behind a void, but rather a quiet sense of peace. the kind of peace that comes with knowing some connections will always remain, even if they’ve shifted into something new.

baekhyun had started staying over on weekends. it had been his idea initially, a way to make up for the years he missed with minji—but somewhere along the way, it became about more than that. your relationship with him had been blossoming, as if no time had been lost.  

the nights you spent together felt like a rediscovery of who you both were, a bittersweet journey through what was and what could be. after minji would fall asleep, the two of you would sit on the couch, sharing stories from the years apart. his late-night shifts at the hospital during his program, your struggles navigating motherhood alone, the little triumphs and heartbreaks in between.  

what surprised you most was how much had stayed the same. you still had the same taste in music, still argued playfully over which movie to watch. even the new interests you’d each picked up fit together seamlessly—baekhyun teasing you about your new baking obsession while you mocked his newfound love for photography.  

it was during one of those weekends, after a long day spent at the park with minji, that things shifted. the house was quiet, save for the soft hum of the night outside. minji had gone to bed hours ago, worn out from a day of running around, and now you lay tangled in the sheets with baekhyun, your skin still warm from the closeness you’d just shared.  

his arm draped lazily over your waist, fingers tracing absentminded patterns on your skin. “i’ve been thinking,” he murmured, his voice soft but serious.  

you turned to face him, your cheek brushing against his bare chest. “about what?”  

“about telling her,” he said, his hand stilling on your side. “minji. that i’m her dad.”  

you blinked up at him, the words settling heavily in the air between you. it wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed your mind, but hearing him say it made it feel... real.  

“you think she’s ready?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.  

he nodded slowly, his dark eyes meeting yours. “she’s smart, you know? she already knows there’s something different about the way i am with her. and with you.” his lips quirked into a small smile. “plus, i want her to know. i want her to know how much i love her. how much i love... this.”  

your breath hitched, his words wrapping around your heart like a warm embrace. “you really think now’s the time?”  

baekhyun shifted, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at you. “i do. but only if you’re ready, too.”  

you bit your lip, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. but as you thought about how minji had been bonding with baekhyun—her laughter during their tickle fights, the way she lit up every time he walked into the room—you realized he was right. she deserved to know.  

“okay,” you whispered, your fingers reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his face. “let’s tell her.”  

he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his voice a gentle promise. “thank you. for letting me be here. for giving me this chance.”  

the following day, during lunch, you sat minji down. the late afternoon sun poured into the kitchen, casting soft golden streaks across the table where you, baekhyun, and minji sat. the aroma of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup lingered in the air, a comfort meal chosen carefully for this important day.  

minji swung her little legs under the chair, humming a tune in between bites, blissfully unaware of the weight of the moment looming.  

you glanced at baekhyun, his fingers tapping lightly against the edge of his bowl—a nervous tell he couldn’t quite hide. catching your eye, he gave you a small nod. it was time.  

“minji,” you began gently, setting your spoon down and leaning forward. her big eyes flicked up to you, still chewing, her cheeks puffed out like a little chipmunk.  

“mommy and i want to talk to you about something important,” baekhyun added, his voice warm but tinged with a nervous edge.  

minji blinked, tilting her head curiously. “what is it?”  

you took a deep breath, reaching for her tiny hand across the table. “you know how you’ve been spending a lot of time with baekhyun lately? going to the park, playing games, having fun?”  

she nodded enthusiastically, a grin spreading across her face. “yeah! he’s so fun! and he’s really good at hide-and-seek!”  

baekhyun chuckled softly, his fingers brushing through his hair. “well, there’s a reason we’ve been spending so much time together, minji,” he said, his voice tender. “it’s because i’m your dad.”  

the room went quiet for a moment as her little brain worked to process the words. her eyes flicked between you and baekhyun, her brow furrowing slightly. “my... dad?”  

you squeezed her hand gently. “yes, sweetheart. baekhyun is your dad. he loves you very much and wants to be in your life, just like mommy is.”  

minji’s lips pressed together in a thoughtful pout. then, she looked at baekhyun, her small voice filled with curiosity. “are you gonna stay forever?”  

his breath hitched, and you could see the emotion pooling in his eyes. he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table to meet her at eye level. “yes, minji. i promise i’m not going anywhere. i want to be here for you, always.”  

she studied him for a moment, then turned to you. “is that okay, mommy?”  

your throat tightened at the question, the innocence of her trust nearly breaking you. you nodded quickly, brushing a hand through her soft hair. “of course, bun. it’s more than okay.”  

a beat passed, and then her face lit up with a smile that could rival the sun. “so... does this mean i can call you daddy?”  

baekhyun laughed, his voice shaky but filled with relief. “only if you want to, bunny.”  

without hesitation, she slid off her chair and ran to him, wrapping her tiny arms around his waist. “hi, daddy.”  

baekhyun’s arms enveloped her instantly, holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world. his eyes met yours over her head, glistening with unshed tears and a gratitude too deep for words.  

in that moment, you knew everything would be okay. your little family had found its way back together.  

˗ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ omg k first of all, i’m so, so, sooooo sorry it took me forever to finish this fic 😭😭😭 i really wanted to try something new with this one. more angsty vibes, some slow-burn, and some juicy subplots to keep it interesting hehe :') instead of my usual "plot? what plot? oh wait, you mean porn" approach (which ofc the next like 4 fics are definitely giving that lmfao) ANYWAAAYYYY, i hope you enjoyed it!! <3 as always lmk ur thoughts <3 <3 (unless you hated it or thought it was mid...then pls...keep it to urself because i am a fragile lil bnuy n will cry 😭🤚🏼) k that's all bye love you guys!!!! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა 💖

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 . 

[mxstellatayte]

okay this is so vague but a something for lewis based off the song pretty please by dutch melrose ?

I LOVE DUTCH MELROSE OMG I ABSOLUTELY CAN. also this one is dedicated my simply simply lovely bestie and horny ride-or-die (not like that) pookie @vivi-81 who has recently converted to being a lewis hoe <3 love you bestie

this fic is multiple chapters because i couldn't help myself! writing this dynamic is really really fun and i'm going to do my best to finish the fic by 15 september, but here is a teaser of the first chapter and the release schedule/masterlist!

this fic spans literal years. prepare yourselves yall because you're in for a WILD ride lol

teaser (this post): 4 september chapter 1: 8 september (🌻/🥀) chapter 2: 22 september (🌻/🪷) chapter 3: 8 november (🌻/🪷)

teaser below the cut!

the conversation continues easily as the two of you finish your breakfast, then, as you begin to prepare yourself to stand and leave, he stops you. "actually, there's one last thing i wanted to do before we went on camera."

your head tilts in confusion as you set your signature lipstick back in your bag, a deep red balm that you've used since you started working at vogue. it's become your trademark product, and almost everyone in the office knows exactly which one you use. "do i need to be worried, lewis?"

"no, not at all! it's this," he says, and your eyebrows rise in complete and utter shock when he pulls out a small box wrapped in white paper and a crimson bow wrapped around it all. "i wanted to get you a gift as a way of saying thank you for all the curveball questions you've thrown at me this year." your hands shake as you take the box from him, and you already know exactly which brand it is. cartier. sure, you've written pieces about their timeless looks and elegant aesthetics, and owning a piece of their jewelry has always been a dream of yours, but it's always been just that: a dream.

"lewis, i can't accept this. i- i'm honestly at a loss for words. seriously, no." you can't help but flush at how he's looking at you, those annoyingly beautiful eyes of his and the stupidly perfect crow's feet that only show up when he really smiles- when he smiles the way he is now. gods, amelia was right. you really are down bad for the driver.

"please, just open it up. if you don't like it, i'll take it back and you can choose something you prefer." he nudges the box towards you once more, and the crisp wax seal that sits on top of the paper is incredibly enticing.

"are you serious?" a part of you wants to think that this is some sick joke, that there's cameras on you and it's all going up on one of those prank channels on youtube. a much, much bigger part of you believes lewis, though. that is the part of you that takes the box between your shaking hands, carefully pops open the wax seal, nimbly unties the beautiful ribbon, and gently unfolds the pure white paper. when you finally open the box, you gasp, tears threatening to well in your eyes. "lewis..."

"do you like it?" his voice sounds anxious and hopeful, and you can't help but realize how much thought he'd put into this gift. when you'd invited him into your office to review some photos that were to go into an article in the next vogue issue a few months prior, he'd seen the vision board on your wall and asked about it. bashfully, you had explained to him that it was a silly idea you had when you graduated from uni with your friends- each of you made one, cutting and pasting photos from pinterest, magazines, newspapers, and anything you could find, assembling your dreams in a mishmash of colors and ideas. one of your dreams on the board had been to own this exact necklace- the cartier juste un clou necklace in white gold. the fourteen diamonds set in the precious metal glitter back at you, and you can't help but smile.

"i love it, lewis. thank you so much." he visibly relaxes, his shoulders loosening and the crease between his eyebrows disappearing.

"i'm glad. here, turn around. let me put it on you?" you happily oblige, lifting your hair out of the way after you stand so that he can fasten the delicate clasp over your spine.

it's safe to say that both his and your fans noticed the necklace hanging between your collarbones, sitting just below the star necklace you wear daily on top of your dark grey high-collared shirt. you try your best not to look at the comments on the videos of your interviews, but amelia had shown you one that day after the unedited interview went up online.

"are they dating or something? i can't get over how lewis looks at her."

taglist: @pear-1206 @vivi-81

join my taglist here!

[ilovewrittingsmut]

Cause I don't want you like a best friend.

Only bought this dress so you can take it off.

Nanami x fem!reader

Nanami had been your best friend since jujutsu high, but deep down, you always harbored secret feelings for him.

For nearly 10 years, there had been an unspoken tension between you two, but now, the day, your birthday party, had finally come when you could no longer keep your feelings hidden.

Contents: Friends to lovers, little bit of suggestive content, YEARNING, love confession omg I need him so bad

an. this is my first time writing a long ass fanfic and first time posting here (disclaimer English is not my first language.) so hope you guys enjoy!!!

Btw this was inspired by the song “dress” by Taylor Swift so I recommend you listen to this song while reading.

Enjoy reading!!!

———————————————————

0:00

K.: happy birthday to my best friend, my one and only, I hope you have the best day and I will see you in this evening at your birthday party. See you!

The moment the clock ticked past 23:59, a short, high-pitched tone from your phone jolted you awake.

There he was...always the first.

Every year, he was the first to wish you a happy birthday.

He was just a very nice friend of yours—or so you kept trying to convince yourself.

You: Thank a bunch kento! See you at my party.

Today, you made up your mind to tell him everything—that his one and only best friend had always had feelings and pined for him.

You knew there was a real possibility that everything could go downhill, and you might be the one to ruin the friendship you two had built over nearly ten years, ever since you were just high schoolers.

But you just couldn’t hold back anymore.

It was terribly painful. You knew that telling him might be selfish, but holding back those heart-racing feelings, the soft words left unspoken, the lingering gaze, and the words "I love you" felt torturous—like holding a knife in your chest.

Only if he knew, all of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting.

The prospect of confessing your love to him consumed your thoughts throughout the night, leaving you restless. Countless considerations raced through your mind—what outfit would be most fitting, how should you apply your makeup, and the nagging question of whether you would be enough to capture his heart.

This might be your most bizarre birthday ever.

8:00

The dark circles under your eyes were a testament to the mere two hours of sleep you managed to get—or perhaps it would be more accurate to call it a brief nap.

This year, you decided to treat yourself by taking the day off as a birthday gift to yourself, with that being said, you had lots of time to arrange the party and lots of time to…think about him.

K.: Don't worry about the party. I'll be at your place by noon, and I've bought plenty of food. Just take it easy, I'll be there to help you with the arrangements.

Speaking of the devil, Nanami himself texted you, almost as if he could read your very thoughts.

As always, there was the way he seemed to be able to read your unspoken message that was all over inside your mind, the way he seemed to reserve a special place in his heart just for you, the way he would turn himself against the world if it meant protecting you. It made you believe that, just as you were in love with him, he might have always been in love with you too.

But you still weren’t sure if he was just being a good friend or if it actually was something beyond than that.

You couldn’t help it, your heart just sank at the mere thought of him.

You just couldn’t take it anymore.

You knew you had to do something to escape these tangled, muddy thoughts. You decided to head straight to your closet just to clear your mind and looked for one of your favorite dresses—or to be honest, the dress that would draw all of his honey-brown eyes on you.

You dragged your fingers across the hangers, pausing as they brushed against one particular dress—your black, simply elegant dress. It featured a straight neckline with thin adjustable straps, a leg slit, and subtle pleat detailing at the waist. It was the dress that never failed to make you feel confident, alluring, and undeniably captivating.

You’d bought it a long time ago with the thought of him seeing you in it, imagining those hungry eyes fixed on you and only you. You’d been waiting for the right opportunity to wear it, not just because it looked absolutely stunning on you, but because it was for him, a manifestation of your hidden desire.

You took off your former clothes and slipped into the dress. As the fabric hugged your body, you couldn’t help but imagine his big stronger manly hands gliding over you, his hot lips whispering sweet nothings in your ear, him slowly taking that dress off, and his lips tracing every curve of your body. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, making your heart race even faster.

Your body yearned for all of it—you wanted it, you needed it. As your hands glided over your shoulders, down to your waist, and then between your thighs, you couldn’t help but wish they were his hands, not yours. The longing was almost unbearable, a deep ache that only he could satisfy.

Your head, your body, every part of you was consumed by thoughts of him. You couldn’t help it; your mind was completely clouded by the image of him.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, imagining his skin touching yours, his hot breath against your sensitive skin, his lips lingering all over your body. Suddenly, you were jolted awake by the high-pitched ringtone of your phone. You grabbed it irrationally, and all the annoyance on your face vanished when you saw his name flashing on the screen. You answered the god damn phone within a second.

“Hey, I got lucky and finished up earlier than I expected. I’m standing in front of your door, could you come and open it for me, please?”

His voice was so clam and gentle for you like always. You could listen to him rumbling all day long without getting tired.

And for heaven's sake, you hadn't even put on your makeup yet. Nothing had gone as planned. You had envisioned everything being perfect, wanting to look flawless, just for him. The anticipation of his arrival had derailed your carefully laid plans, leaving you scrambling to present yourself in the best possible light. You wanted everything to be just right, to impress him and make the moment unforgettable.

“What can I say? I haven’t done my makeup yet. Sorry if I sound a bit flustered, but I’d really rather you not see me without it.”

You had no idea what you just said, like what the fuck, why you had to said it out loud.

“You’re so funny sometimes. I’ve seen you without makeup countless times before. Remember? I was there through your emo phase. There’s nothing to be embarrassed to me.”

“Just shut up okay?, you were emo too at that time. Never bring that topic up again. Please!!”

Between you two, there were so many unspoken rules and inside jokes that no one else could understand.

You were flattered, sososo flattered, feeling your cheeks flush with warmth everytime as he teased you, though you hated how easily you blushed. You quickly ended the call and walked to the door, still wearing that dress.

Your hand rushed to open the door, and as it swung open, your gaze met his. His eyes sparkled with a warm, heavenly glow the moment he saw you standing there, and the look of delight on his face made your heart skip a beat.

“Can I come in?”

“Indeed”

You tried to act as normal as possible, but your heart was betraying you, racing wildly with every beat.

“You look great.”

He didn’t really stare at you but he did look at you with unspeakable things in his eyes for sure.

“Thanks”

Why the hell on earth you were so awkward like that.

“I have never seen this dress”

You had no idea just how much of his attention was always focused on you.

“Because I haven’t wear it.”

“You should wear it more often, you look good.”

He tried to turn his head away but his pupils just so flared for you.

God, did he just admit that you were so pretty, leading both of you to get very flustered

“Here, your favorite chicken wings,pasta from your favorite restaurant, some of frozen pizza and this..”

He reached into his bag and pulled out something.

“Bread…I baked it for you”

He pulled out a loaf of homemade, crusty artisan bread, baked just for you.

“For me?”

“Of course”

The small smile appeared around his eyes as you inhaled deeply.

“Thank you, you’re the best.”

“No need for that, also happy birthday and thank you for everything.”

“Thank you for always being by my side, I…”

He hesitated before speaking the next word, his fingers fidgeting as he wrestled with his nerves.

“I can’t imagine my life without you”

He turned his head sideways to avoid staring straight ahead, crossing his arms across himself as he stepped backwards.

Was he being romantic?

You had no clue what did that actually mean. You excessively swallowed all the tension as you shot him with your darting gaze.

Fuck, it was so hard to be just friends with him. You probably showed to much signs right now and he would probably could read all of that.

For god sake, you hated the way he could read you like a book that was why you always avoided the topic of romance because he always knew when you were lying so prevent confrontation, you just prefer never had a conversation about love with him.

The next words about to leave his mouth might very well make you crumble to your knees. You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep your feelings hidden.

All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation that you hold back and it was killing you.

It was just an inch away—just one pathetic inch away that separated you from remaining friends and becoming something more.

You genuinely didn’t know why your brain just went blank when you looked at him. You were going insane.

The way that he always gawked at you, just friends didn’t look at each other like that…

Everything was so inescapable and you were not even gonna try.

Your hands were shaking from holding back from all these.

It was now or never.

“Kento…I don’t think that I can be your friend anymore”

The words were said by your shivering voice hung in the air, charged with a gravity that seemed to make time itself slow down. You could see the confusion flicker in his eyes, the hurt starting to take shape behind them.

“What…why? I’m sorry did I do something wrong? Can we talk about that? Please?”

“No it’s not about you…it’s about me.”

“I don’t want you like a best friend.”

You stopped. The silence between you two was heavy, like the moments before a storm breaks. Your heart pounded against my chest, each beat echoing with the fear of the unknown. You had spent so long wrestling with your feelings, trying to suppress them, trying to maintain the facade of friendship. But the weight of your emotions had grown too great, and now the truth had to be spilled out, threatening to unravel everything.

“I hate to risk our friendship, but I can’t keep this hidden anymore.”

You took a deep breath, the words spilling out with a raw urgency you could no longer contain.

“I can’t do this anymore, I fall in love with you so head over heels and fuck it I can’t not love you. It’s just not in me…shit did I just say it out loud?”

The confession hung between you, trembling with the weight of your unspoken desires and fears.

Kento’s gaze softened, his confusion giving way to a profound sadness. He opened his mouth as if to respond, but no words came. The vulnerability in his eyes was almost too much to bear.

You stood there, heart racing, feeling a mix of relief and dread. The risk you took was immense, but you knew you couldn’t continue living with the secret any longer. Now, the future of your friendship and potentially something more was uncertain, hanging in the thread of his response.

“I’m sorry.”

The feelings were so overwhelming as tears began to fall from the corners of your eyes as the weight of your confession settled over you. You feared that you might have already ruined everything, the possibility of losing him forever or changing everything you had cherished flashing through your mind. Each tear that slipped down your cheek felt like a tangible symbol of your anxiety and regret.

“Idiot, you are an idiot.”

His response took you by surprise. A small smile appeared on his face, and his tender, sweet eyes remained fixed on you, full of warmth and affection. The words you’d feared would end everything seemed instead to be the beginning of something new, as his gaze softened with understanding and something more profound.

“Why haven’t you said anything sooner?”

He took a step closer, tilting his head slightly to look at your tear-streaked face. His hands reached out, and before you could react, his strong arms enveloped you. The warmth of his body surrounded you, providing a comforting embrace that seemed to chase away the uncertainty and fear. In that moment, you felt an overwhelming sense of relief and tenderness, as if everything you had hoped for was finally coming to fruition.

“I’ve loved you all my life.”

He whispered against your ear, his breath warm and intimate, leaving no inches between you two . The confession was soft yet profound, mingling with the beat of your heart and the steady rhythm of his. The closeness of your bodies made the moment feel both fragile and incredibly real, as if all the unspoken feelings and hidden desires had finally found their voice.

“I always thought you knew just how much I’ve been yearning for you.”

he said, frustration clear in his voice. He cursed under his breath, his eyes reflecting a mix of confusion and vulnerability. The emotion was raw and unfiltered, as he grappled with the reality of his unspoken desires and the intensity of his feelings.

“You know me better than I know myself. How did you not notice my feelings?"

“And I always thought that you would never look at me this way,”

he murmured, his voice trembling slightly.

“I mean, look at me… I don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you. You are… everything.”

His words, so full of vulnerability and self-doubt, seemed to echo in the space between you. The depth of his feelings was laid bare, each word imbued with a mix of longing and disbelief. You could feel the intensity of his emotions as he spoke, his face close to yours, his breath mingling with yours.

“I was a real selfish man. ”

Admitted, his voice filled with regret.

“I kept you all to myself as my best friend because… I thought it was the only way to be the man who was lucky enough to be near you.”

His confession was raw and honest, his eyes reflecting a deep, conflicted emotion. The vulnerability in his voice revealed how much he had struggled with his own desires and the fear of losing you. As he spoke, it became clear how profoundly he valued your presence in his life and how conflicted he felt about the boundaries he had set.

“I really enjoy every moment spending with you and you have no idea how much I have always cherished those days we went through together, I know…I know so well that I do not deserve any of that but…”

“I know I’m not good enough for you so I decide to love you as much as this man can do and…”

He had a hard time saying all of those words as you could see.

“Ken, with love, please shut up.”

You cut him off as his confession had overwhelmed you, and you no longer needed to hear any more of his heartfelt words. All you wanted in that moment was to kiss him. The intensity of your feelings was too strong to be contained by words alone, and you found yourself yearning to close the distance between you with a kiss that would express everything you felt.

Oh god you couldn’t believe it that you two were both pining like idiots for all these years??

“Yeah, okay I will shut up but I need to tell you something, so what if I dreamt about kissing you for almost ten years? Don’t we all do that with our best friends? …hm? What do you think about it”

“Best friends my ass” you thought and let a small giggle. He might have been serious no he wasn’t, but his playful tone made you laugh despite the intensity of the moment. His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. Goosebumps spread across your skin wherever he touched, heightening the electric tension between you. His touch was both soothing and thrilling, making it clear that the line between friendship and something more had finally blurred.

“Ken…Just shut up and kiss me already. Idiot.”

“Your idiot, just yours,”

he murmured, his voice low and tender.

“Only a fool for you.”

He mumbled the words against your soft lips before slowly pressing his own against yours. The kiss that followed was everything you had always dreamed of, so gentle yet filled with an intensity that spoke of all the feelings unspoken until now.

And that dress was eventually taken off by your best mate that day or could I say, your future husband.

[w2soneshots]

Chose one -W2S

words: 1.4k+

warnings: light angst, sex references.

summary: when both Harry and Chris fall for you, you realise you’re going to have to choose one.

notes: omg I actually wrote something that’s not a request🤭. my fics have been super short lately so here’s an extra long one to make up for it✨. I hope you enjoy my lovelies!💓🫶🏼

Liked by bambinobecky, wroetoshaw and 781,045 others

y/username: life's to short to wear boring clothes💓

-comments-

taliamar: marry me.

-> y/username: 👰‍♀️

chrismd: 🔥🔥

faithloisak: you look gorgeous!!

y/nfanpage21: I need that dress omg

user51209835: not Chris thirsting over y/n😭

I've been friends with Harry for years. We met through my best friend Talia, at one of her birthday parties. That's also where I met the rest of the boys. We became friends and they began inviting me on nights out, parties and other events. I formed a separate connection with them all. Tobi, JJ, Ethan and Josh are like my older brothers. Simon's my best friend's boyfriend. Vik was a little awkward at the beginning but now I have the most interesting conversations with him. Me and Harry immediately hit it off. He was also awkward but I managed to pull him out of his shell, I get his humour and he gets mine. We just click.

I also met Chris through the boys. I found him hilarious and I loved the all the witty little comments he made. We became good friends after our first meeting and I now text him regularly. Recently I was having a conversation with Talia, over the phone. When she brought up the comment that Chris left on my most recent instagram post. I wasn't sure what to say. "He definitely likes you y/n!" She stated. My eyes widened. "No- no way." I stumbled on my words. "You don't like him?" "I- I'm not sure. I've never thought of him that way."

After that day I felt strange. I didn't know what to say to Chris. I also hadn't spoken to Harry in a few days. But I will see them both today at the party Tobi's hosting at his apartment. I began getting ready at five. I took a long shower, blow dried then styled my hair, applied some makeup and finally finished with my outfit. I had sent a text to the girls to ask what they were wearing so I chose my outfit around that.

Liked by taliamar, chrismd and 610,357 others

y/username: 🐆

-comments-

wroetoshaw: woah

freyanightingale: omfg the jacket💘

faithloisak: unbelievable🤤🤤

-> behzingagram: slow down there buddy

y/nfanpage21: her style changes every week, girl can do both

user91470263: are both Harry & Chris in love with y/n?🤨

I arrived at Tobi's apartment by seven. I rang the doorbell. "Hey! Come in." Tobi greeted me after he opened the door. We shared a quick hug then headed to where everyone else was. Not everyone had arrived yet but Talia had so I quickly went to say hello. "Hi babe! You look hot as fuck." She excitedly hugged me. "So do you. Is that the dress you bought last week?" I asked. "Yeah! I'm glad we were dressing up so I had an excuse to wear it."

Once the party got going and everyone arrived, most of us began drinking. I got really tipsy very quickly. I went off to the bathroom to clean myself up and take a deep breath. Just as I was leaving I banged straight into someone. My head banged back onto the wall. "Ow. Fuck." I clutched the back of my skull. "I'm so sorry. Are you ok? y/n?" A voice rambled. "Hmm," I opened my eyes. A very concerned looking Harry stood before me. "Oh. I'm fine. Don't sweat it." I hurried back into the living room.

"You alright?" Faith asked. "Mhm." I hummed. "You just seem a little... tense." I sighed. "Can we go into the kitchen? I need to ask you about something." I whispered to her. "Of course, let's go." She replied, standing from the couch. We slipped out of the room. I stood with my back leaning against the marble counter. "I've been feeling weird lately," I began, my drunkenness about to make me spill all of my secrets.

"I think I like Harry. Like more than a friend," Her eyes widened. "But I was speaking to T the other day and she said that she thinks Chris likes me. I'm just really confused." I sighed as an imaginary weight lifted from my shoulders, from the confession. "Well, do you feel for Chris like you feel for Harry?" She asked. My eyes fluttered closed. "I don't think so. I think he's... nice looking but I don't like him." "Well there's your answer."

I decided that I was just going to get absolutely pissed so I wouldn't have to deal with anything tonight (that was a mistake). Once me and Faith rejoined the group we all decided to play 'never have I ever'. I sat between Faith and JJ. "Okay! I'll start," Freya announced. "Never have I ever gone skinny dipping." Freya, Josh and JJ drank. "What?! You're all boring man." JJ shouted. Ethan went next. "Never have I ever had sex in a car." JJ, Faith, Ethan, Harry, Chris and myself drank. When I put my glass down I noticed two faces looking at me, Harry and Chris. I quickly looked away.

After a few more rounds with nothing that interesting it was my turn. "Never have I ever had a crush on my friend." I blurted out. My face dropped. I looked to Faith. She was just as shocked. "I- I think that's my cue to go home." I pushed myself from the couch. I turned to looked at Tobi. "Thanks for a great night." I smiled then made a be line for the front door.

As I waited for my taxi to arrive it began to rain. "For fuck sake." I whispered under my breath. "Here." I heard from behind me. I jumped then turned to see who it was. Harry stood there with his jacket in his hand, gesturing for me to take it. I smiled lightly then took it. Covering my hair from the rain. We stood there in silence, the only sound being made by the heavy downpour of rain. Harry's shirt began to stick to his body as it became increasingly more soaked. I stepped towards him. Attempting to cover the both of us with his coat. He unexpectedly wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer. I leaned into his touch.

"I drank." He said breaking the silence. "What?" I replied quietly, confused. "Your question. About having a crush on your friend. I drank." He explained. My heart rate began to speed up. "Oh, who?" I asked nervously. "You." He whispered. My face dropped. I looked up at him, slightly breaking our hug. "Really? You- you like me?" I thought I was hearing things. He nodded. "It's alright if you don't feel the same, I just needed to tell you." "I do feel the same Harry." I leaned into him. Our lips inches apart. My taxi pulled up. I stepped away, passing his coat back. "Sorry." I mouthed as I slid into the car.

The next day I woke with an awful hangover and a bucket of guilt. I needed to speak to Chris. I can't pursue anything with Harry until I tell him about my lack of feelings. Later in the day I decided to text him. He agreed to come to my apartment. Twenty minutes later there was a knock at my door. I opened it with a smile then let him inside. "Listen Chris-" I wasn't sure what to say. I didn't even know for sure if he liked me. "It's ok. We don't have to make this awkward. I liked you but I know you and Harry are- you know, so don't worry about it. I'll back off." He said politely. I let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you. And I'm sorry." "Nothing to be sorry about. Let's just stay friends, yeah?" I nodded. "Yeah."

A few days later I turned up to Harry's apartment. I hesitated to knock. Then I took a deep breath and lifted my fist to the door. I waited almost a minute before the door opened. Harry stared at me. "Uhm, hi." I smiled softly. "Hey. What are you doing here?" He asked. "I um- I wanted to apologise for the other day. I shouldn't have left like that." I began. We stared into each other's eyes, neither saying a word. He stepped closer, so close in fact that I could feel his breath on my lips. "Can I kiss you?" He asked in a hushed tone. "Yes." I whispered. He closed the gap slowly. My hands moved to his shoulders. His traveled slowly down to my waist as we shared a sweet kiss.

[madschiavelique]

omg okay y’all absolutely LOVED this post right here about young halsin x you turning to the shadow druids and meeting decades later so let me elaborate a bit about it (ps i’m in pain physically as i write this so it’s not proofread at all and very quick but i need to let some thought out)

imagine halsin and you, in his quarters, ready for interrogation. it’s night, some fireflies are coming in and out of his windows, but you’re not watching them. your eyes are planted in halsin’s.

so many questions swirl in his mind like individual drops of rain falling all at once together on calm water.

you were gone, at least that’s what he had thought for so many years. maybe you had perished after the flames, maybe you had changed of continents, maybe you had fought another battle that led you to the sour arms of death.

he never thought he was to see you again, not even in afterlife. but here you are, all tied up in front of him.

more beautiful than ever.

and you, you’re watching him in silence, hooked on his lips in expectation of whatever he might say.

he has the strength to form a sentence, trying his very best to keep it all under the “protecting the grove” argument.

“why are you here ?” he asks.

his voice changed so much. it’s much deeper, like thunder coated in honey. his voice was already the sweetest back in the days, but the new one…

“trying to prevent your grove from getting in trouble.” you answer, leaning your head back against the wood of the wall, not leaving his eyes.

he frowns, the duties of archdruid have changed him. he matured, you think, he made a man out of the snarky boy you once knew.

“from…” he says, searching his words, “troubles like you ?”

troublemaker, that was the nickname he used to give you. you’d always tried by every mean to make him look less perfect than how he used to be back in the days, and you still wondered if he had managed to remain effortlessly errorless.

you smiled, full of nostalgia at the single word, “i was your favourite kind of trouble. the one coming for you, though…”

“quit your games,” he stopped, “what are you truly here for ?”

“i told you, your grove’s about to be in danger.”

“how’s that ?” he scoffed, “you, the great deserter, coming to such a haven in search for something else to destroy ?”

halsin still had some bitterness. you had not just left him, you had been dishonest with him, betrayed your home, your friends, your circle, him.

“i did not mean to destroy the temple.” you said between clenched teeth.

“but you did it anyway.” he spat.

“because it was either see this stupid rubble go into flames or watching you die!” you snapped.

halsin’s eyes went wide, anger and surprise and confusion passing on his face and heart without transition as he looked at you with new eyes.

now, imagine that the reason why the shadow druids took you in in the first place was because of leverage, and this leverage was halsin.

imagine the poisoned words they made you drink, how they certified to you that by coming to their order you could finally top him on something and not be an eternal second of his.

that notion of being second had for a while been less and less present to the front of your mind, this simply because you were no longer in a competition with him, at least not in your mind.

but what if they had made you believe that halsin charming you until you fell for him was his own strategy to get first ? what if they had made you bitter enough about him that you had fallen for their lies ?

what if they had threatened to kill him if you were to not join them ?

should i give more loves 👁️👁️

small tags for the people that wanted to hear more about this !!

@halsinningiswinning @radioactivepidgeon @daughter-lilith @fruitymoonbeams-blog @sparrowbard @oooof-ifellforyou @girlwithadragonheart @altered-delta

[youunravelme]

okay but how does mat propose??? (like a pt. 2 follow up to the wedding cake fic)

omg omg omg a proposal request!! let it be known, i have never been engaged, BUT all my friends got engaged/married last year so i think i'm uniquely qualified (edit: this was started in 2023, you know, when this request was sent. once again, my b). (though this might just turn into my dream proposal bc i'm in love with him).

for those of you who wanna check the part 1 of the wedding cake fic, here it is!

another edit: i wrote this to distract myself from my absolute disdain at scott mayfield.

carry on.

his hands were sweating all day.

which was weird, considering it was february.

but it wasn't weird, given what he had planned. he didn't know if he wanted to scream or throw up. the idea of you becoming his wife surely made him giddy, but it was soured with the slight chance that you might say no. he was supposed to propose before the season started up again, but he was plagued with anxious thoughts.

it's not the right time.

i'm not ready yet.

or the worst one: i don't think i'm that serious about you.

which, in hindsight, wouldn't make sense considering you were already living together and have been for quite some time. you wore his jersey to games, you had conversations about starting a family, you texted his mom and sister more than he did. there was no reason for you to say no.

right?

right?

after he chickened out back in september, mat's new plan was to wait until the bye week to propose. he was going to take you on a vacation to conil de la frontera, spain. he had everything booked and ready.

but then he was drafted for the 2024 all star games.

he could see it in your eyes, you were ecstatic for him to be recognized, but when you took a week and a half off of work, you were planning on packing your bathing suit, not taking a short flight to toronto.

you bore the slight disappointment well, smiling and kissing him and hugging him tightly when he got the news. he beamed when he saw you post about it on your instagram.

he couldn't wait any longer to ask you. your reaction to a change in your vacation plans from something warm to canada in the winter solidified what he was anxious about for months.

you loved him, there as no doubt about it.

you were the most selfless human being he knew.

his teammates had been crucial in the planning process, well, at least their wives were. bo, marty, anders, brock, and clutterbuck had been chirping him since the start of the season when they noticed that your left hand was still devoid of a ring.

"what're you waiting for, barzy?" bo asked after a practice one day. "you found a good one, she'd probably wait forever for you, but why're you making her wait?"

mat shrugged at the time, too embarrassed to admit that despite being one of the best players in the league and having millions to his name, he was terrified that it still wouldn't be enough for you. not that you'd ever demanded more from him, you'd taken him as he was and cheered for him even when he was having the shittiest time of his life.

he could give you the moon and still wouldn't feel like it was enough.

so when mat finally told his teammates about his plan in toronto, they immediately communicated to the wives who were closest to you. sydney, grace, and holly took you out to get your nails done while marty, anders, bo, and mat started researching the most romantic places in toronto on anders' laptop just in case you spontaneously went through mat's search history.

the day was planned, the photographer and necessary tickets were booked, he'd propose at the evergreen brick works after texting auston matthews about cool places to visit while he was in town, (he had to clarify that he didn't care about cool bars, and was looking to bring you along).

you'd been talking nonstop on the plane ride to toronto that you didn't even notice mat was quietly stewing. everything had to be perfect.

it was the very least that you deserved.

the first day in toronto, both of you explored the city by going to coffee shops and restaurants recommended by players and their significant others. when you made it back to your hotel room, your feet were aching.

you fell face first into the bed, whining into the comforter. "my feet hurt," you groaned.

mat laughed from his position leaning against the wall. "i told you to wear better shoes," he said.

"i didn't anticipate you dragging me all over toronto today."

"well, that's what we'll be doing tomorrow too, so prepare yourself."

"mat," you whined, finally flipping over so he could see your pretty face again. you had a cute pout on your lips that he wanted to kiss away. "we're on vacation."

"and you've never been in this city before, you should get to see it." he walked over to where you were and grabbed your hands. "c'mon, let's go take a bath and then we can order room service and spend the rest of the night in bed."

you were quick to agree.

the following day was pretty mundane. but wednesday was the cause of mat's stress.

his phone lit up with texts from his teammates, his parents, liana, tito, and ethan, all wishing him a good luck. the two of you woke up early enough to go to a local cafe and grab breakfast before taking the bus to evergreen brick work.

"you okay?" you asked, placing your hand on his knee to keep it from bouncing anymore.

he thanked whatever possessed him to keep the ring box in his coat pocket on the side that wasn't pressed up against you.

"yeah," he smiled. "just ready to get there."

when the two of you hopped off the bus, you slid your hand into his almost immediately. out of habit, mat tucked you into his side, happy to just have you close. it was a little cold outside, but it was like he couldn't feel it because of your proximity.

"mat!" you tugged on his arm and pointed at one of the signs. "they have ice skating here!" you grinned widely up at him and he couldn't help but smile right back. "we should go!"

"we will," he said. "i wanna do this trail first."

you looked at him funny. "you wanna go on a walk?"

he shrugged, tearing his eyes away from you to focus on the signs in front of him. "auston suggested this place."

"you're asking for a lot of suggestions from auston. it's unlike you..."

"there's no need to be suspcious, babe. i know that you wanted to be in a tropical place for vacation, that was the plan and everything, but since we're here, thought we'd make the most of it."

you scrutinized his face for a moment longer before nodding and pulling yourself closer to him.

after you secured another hot coffee to combat the cold, mat started leading you on the trail. while you were ordering, he was coordinating with the photographer to make sure she was in position.

the trail itself wasn't that long, thankfully because mat couldn't get a word out and if it was any longer, he feared you would've caught on that he was incapable of speaking.

you were still talking about work drama when you got to the lookout point. your voice was taken away by the sight of toronto in the background.

you hadn't always been the most observant person ever, you didn't even know he liked you until he told you verbatim when he couldn't take it anymore.

"oh my god, mat," you gasped. you pointed at the skyline in front of you with the hand that wasn't holding your coffee. "look how pretty it is!"

he swallowed and knelt down on one knee while your back was turned. mat took the ring box out of his jacket pocket, doing his best not to drop it despite how much his hands were shaking.

"have you ever seen anything that--" you whipped back around to look for him. he watched as confusion filled your face when you didn't see him standing behind you, but kneeling in front of you.

"oh my god," you whispered, dropping your coffee on the ground so you could cover your mouth with both hands. "mat what--"

"i love you," he said. "i love the way you squeal at every cute baby that comes across your for you page or the way you cry at the drop of a hat. i love how you celebrate everyone around you. you are the brightest thing in my life and if i quit my job tomorrow, i know my life would still be fucking amazing because i'd have you.

"i know that my schedule is hectic, and you could probably find a man better than me, who was more consistent, who wasn't going to play games or have practices on your birthday, who could take you out of the country for a vacation to somewhere warm instead of dragging you with me to an all star game. but i promise you, i will do whatever it takes to give you the best life possible if you'd let me. i wanna grow old and crinkly with you, i want our kids to have the same last name as both of us. i want to be able to point you out in crowds and tell strangers that i somehow managed to convince you to marry me.

"i have never been more terrified in my life than i am right now," he admitted. "but i have never been more certain of anything i want more in my life than you. so will you have me? will you marry me?"

in the middle of his speech, mat didn't realize when he'd started crying, didn't even notice that you were all but sobbing. he just recognized the scent of your perfume when you lunged towards him and kissed him hard on the mouth, your tears mixing with his.

"yes," you mumbled into his mouth. "oh my god, yes."

mat let out a watery laugh and managed to slip the ring on your finger even though his hands were shaking. you pulled him up to stand and immediately wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him close.

you were sniffling as he pulled you in for another kiss.

"i love you,' he whispered against your lips.

"love you more," you smiled back.

[junnylunny]

no one noticed

!pairing- bestfriend!jay x reader x ex!sunghoon

! synopsis- you see your first love at your high school reunion just to feel every emotion you once felt with him again. your bestfriend however reminds you that you deserve to be treated better.

: ̗̀➛ you are now listening to "no one noticed" by the marías ´ˎ˗

includes- angst, heartwarming fluff, fake scenarios, acts of service, love triangle ༊*·˚

word count- 1.7k

warning!- this is au and none of these actions are true and are purely for the story.

- - - - -

author's note: i feel like i owe this one to you guys! my last ff was made last minute and i didn't put my all into it so here is something to make up for it (thank you to those that still enjoyed it). i've also been trying to post at least once a week so enjoy this bonus :)

- - - - -

"y/n~ i heard there's going to be a high school reunion this month. you're coming right?" jay asked. you had moved away to los angeles, california, to pursue your dreams of becoming an actor while most of your high school classmates remained in washington. although you had many friends during high school, jay was one of your closest friend and had always kept in touch with you, despite the long 10 years you were gone.

"i didn't even go to the first one. what makes you think i'll go?" y/n joked.

"oh come on. it'll be nice seeing everyone for once." jay begged. "or you can come up to just see me," he teasingly said.

you stayed silent for a moment, thinking seriously of whether you should or not. being reminded suddenly of your hard work led you to think that maybe it was the perfect time to take a break for once.

"fine." you gave in.

"finally," jay relieved happily.

"you know what. i'll book the ticket for you." he insisted.

"do as you wish," you happily took his offer.

in a matter of time, you talked to your manager about going to the high school reunion and took a flight back to washington.

"y/n!!" a familiar voice yelled outside the terminal. it was jay.

"hi!!" you hugged jay with one arm while your other hand held tightly to the cap on your head. your manager had warned you to not get caught in the airport by any reporters, making you a bit anxious but happy all together. jay had immediately pounced on you when you hugged and was squeezing you to death.

"let me go," you laughed, tapping his back as if he was putting you on a choke hold.

"i’m glad you made it here safely. come on. let's go," jay said, finally releasing you and petting the top of your cap. “i’ll take your suitcase.”

you and jay arrived at his neighborhood, leading you to feel nostalgic. jay had decided to buy a house near the school instead of moving far, allowing you to see the school while driving past. you rolled down the window, taking a closer look at the school; the building looked renovated, having a more modern look with a nice touch of a mowed lawn.

"wow, this place has changed a lot," you noticed.

"it has." jay said, continuing to drive.

"what are you going to wear later?" you asked, rolling the window back up.

"something casual. did you pack something nice?" jay asked.

"of course. this super star has to always look good," you joked.

the afternoon swept past quickly as you and jay reminisced about the past, causing you guys to hurriedly dress up when realizing it was time to leave.

"thank goodness you live close to the restaurant," you said, hanging your gold earrings.

"mhm," jay agreed, styling his hair.

"i'm done!" you grabbed your bag from the couch.

"let's go," he said, swiftly grabbing his car key as you both rushed out the house.

jay slightly stepped on the speed, trying to be cautious of the neighborhood kids, but trying to hurry as well. "omg we're literally 30 minutes late," you exclaimed in the car. jay pulled up to the restaurant, finding all the parking lots to be filled.

"it seems pretty packed. go inside first," he said, putting the car in park for a moment.

"see you inside," you said, unbuckling your seatbelt and heading inside.

as you quickly entered the restaurant, you immediately saw your best friend, sooyeon.

"omg is that the famous y/n?!" she exclaimed. "hurry up, come in and eat!" she motioned for you to sit. you smiled happily at her, glad to know that she still remembered you, making your way over to her table.

as you made yourself comfortable, you saw a familiar face across from you. it was sunghoon. your eyes uncontrollably widened, awkward yet surprised. you had forgotten everything about this man. sunghoon was your first everything: kiss, relationship, love.

"hey y/n," he welcomed you.

you felt unfamiliar with his attitude. “is it because i'm famous now?” you thought to yourself. you and sunghoon had ended on a bad note. you had found out something unreasonable that finally broke you guys up. this however not only made you form a hatred for him, but the other way as well. you guys would avoid each other at school and left high school without any good-bye messages.

"hi." you awkwardly said. “did he forget what he did?” you thought to yourself. 

"did jay come with you?" sooyeon asked, butting into silence.

"yeah he did." you said, avoiding sunghoon's eye contact.

"he can take my seat. i'll sit next to sunghoon." sooyeon offered.

"thanks," you said, looking down at your hands, fidgeting with them.

"i'm here!!" jay blasted the door open.

"yo jay!" everyone welcomed him.

your eyes lit back up, glad jay came before it got more awkward.

"come sit here!" sooyeon guided him next to you.

as jay was about to sit, he noticed sunghoon sitting across from you. "oh shoot." he said with his eye.

"i forgot my polaroid in the car." jay said. "can you get it for me? wouldn’t want to miss taking a photo as a memory." he said, giving you the car key. "i didn't park far."

"yeah sure," you said, getting right up. you rushed out of the restaurant, making your way to his car to grab the polaroid. you slowly walked back inside, hoping that you had cooled off your anxious feeling.

"y/n! i switched seats with you if that's ok," jay said, welcoming you back in.

"that’s fine," you said, taking a seat.

"it's been so long y/n~ how have you been?" sooyeon asked while cooking the meat. jay cut some pieces of meat from the grill and placed them on your empty plate, listening to the conversation simultaneously. 

"i've been pretty busy," you awkwardly laughed, unable to fake an expression like you usually did with work. "thanks," you quietly thanked jay.

"you should come more often. we've missed you." sooyeon said with pouty lips.

"haha. i didn't know," you awkwardly smiled. you noticed sunghoon looking at you, but tried your best to not make eye contact with him, unsure how to react.

"you look prettier," sunghoon suddenly butted in.

all eyes darted at him. "what?" you confusedly said.

"babe~ why would you compliment someone else?" sooyeon asked in an annoyed tone.

sunghoon ignored her comment. "i said you look prettier y/n."

you stared blankly at both sunghoon and sooyeon, the table becoming silent.

"i'm going to the restroom," you said, getting up.

in the bathroom, you scoffed at his answer, overfilling with anger. “i look prettier? what makes you think it's ok for you to say that after all these years?” you thought while washing your hands. “what the heck was sooyeon also saying?”

why was he being so confusing? what was with the change of attitude? you kept questioning yourself. as you headed out the bathroom, you saw sunghoon waiting for you, leaning on the wall. he was looking down at his shoes until he noticed you taking a closer step.

"i'm sorry if the comment earlier made you uncomfortable," he said, walking up halfway.

"it's whatever." you said, finally making eye contact with him.

"okay. i'm glad." he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"so you've been busy?" he asked, continuing the conversation.

"yeah." you said blandly.

"hey-" you butted before he spoke anymore.

"why are you acting like this?" you asked.

"like what?" sunghoon questioned.

"like this. we haven't spoken for a while and now you're talking to me as if we're old pals." you said with a slightly angry tone.

"aren't we old pals?" he scoffed.

"no. we're not," you said sternly. "if you're just here to play with me then stop."

"i'm not here to play with you, y/n." he sighed. "i'm sorry for how we ended. i thought maybe we could work things out again when we were happy with our own paths."

"i'm sorry to pop your bubble, but that's not happening." you confessed. "it's been years sunghoon. you ruined this for us." you said.

"no y/n." he sternly said. "i haven't y/n. i never did. let's work things out." he said, grabbing onto your wrist.

"sunghoon. let me go!" you said, trying to push him away.

jay suddenly came out of nowhere, removing sunghoo’s hand from your wrist.

"you're disgusting," jay said before taking your hand and walking out.

"get in the car," jay said, opening the passenger door for you. you entered the car, fazed by how sunghoon acted. “was he really trying to work things out?” you thought. jay began the engine and drove with an angry expression on his face.

"are you okay? what’s wrong?" you asked, already feeling frustrated by your feelings but sensing jay had more to say with the look on his face. you turned your body to face him, checking in on him.

jay quickly pulled to the street and parked abruptly. "because." he began but paused. "because he's such a dick..." he hesitantly said while looking down.

"i know that, but is that all?" you asked.

"y/n." jay began once more. "he's seriously a dickhead. he's been dating sooyeon for years after you left." he confessed. 

"so he lied," you said, leaning back on the passenger seat.

"yeah. i don't know why he had the balls to do that right in front of everyone too." jay said.

you sighed, tracing back all the bad memories with sunghoon. during the winter break of senior year, he had cheated. you guys had planned to spend christmas at your family's place, but he had canceled last minute due to a cold. sad that he couldn't make it, you made him homemade chicken soup to lift up his mood but another girl was in his bedroom, already doing just that and that was your final straw with him.

"i'm so stupid," you said, fidgeting your hands again.

"no, you're not. you just didn't know." jay said, holding your hand to stop your squirmy hands. 

"it's okay. i'm here for you." jay gave you an assuring look.

"thank you." you said, glad he was by your side.

"you didn't eat at all. let's go somewhere nice," he said, mustering up a smile and starting the engine.

“you also need to fix that habit of yours,” he said, looking at your hand.

"thank you for noticing everything." you said.

"hm?" jay said, not hearing you the first time.

"no one noticed but you." you repeated.

[richarlotte]

High Class Dating.

I’m spending the summer interning in New York before I move to California and I’ve not had any trouble at all when it comes to getting dates, meeting men, or being taken out. I do sugar date and date hypergamously because if you’ve not leveled up your dating game in 2024, you’re missing out. I think it’s imperative to only except dates with men that make you feel good, have good careers and have something to offer, and make an effort to treat you like a lady. 2024 is the decade of the black woman and I know what I want so it’s time for me to get it. I’ve been dating since I was 18, I’m not a love guru by any means but I hold my own, and I love going out and having a good time with high quality men who will treat me well and show me their lifestyle.

My Stats.

As a background, here are my stats: I’m about 5’11 and weigh 140 pounds, I’m dark skin, and I have alopecia (I do wear a wig). Am I drop dead gorgeous? I’m not Jasmine Tookes but I’m confident and love the way I look, I’ve taken time to level up, I have a good workout routine and a toned body, and I’ve made strides with my personal style and makeup skills over the past few years. I’m happy to make posts related to the process that I went through when I started leveling up, the changes I made to my style and to my makeup routine, and the workout routine and some of the food I eat to keep myself healthy and motivated. I don’t believe in dating out of desperation and I think that it’s always important to make an effort if you are a woman; if you make an effort and know your audience then you’ll find that it’s easier to meet people and go to better places.

A few of my dates.

I went to lunch at the Penn Club with a man who I met on Hinge. He’s a successful young plastic surgeon and we spoke for two days before he asked me out on his first day off. He was tall, had big brown eyes and a strong jaw, handsome, an excellent conversationalist, and very intelligent. He made such an effort to take me somewhere beautiful, treat me well, and make sure that I was having fun and he had so much potential. I really liked our date and think it’s one of the best I’ve been on since I landed in New York for my internship.

I went to Martha’s Vineyard for Fourth of July weekend with another date. His family owns a huge house on the island and I’d mentioned to him that I wanted to go somewhere that felt luxurious so he invited me and a few of my friends to visit. It was a beautiful long weekend and I got to do so much; we swam, cooked, watched the fireworks, danced, listened to so much good music, and got to know each other better. I love a man who comes for money and has his own money but is still humble and he is the definition of a good guy.

I feel like every girl has her own story about going out with an NHL player but OMG let me tell you mine. I went out with a Swedish NHL player and these wealthy Scandinavian men and athletes love black women. People will try to say that they only like thin blondes but this man treated me like a princess, he still sends me gifts, he got me tickets for the Stanley Cup finals, and he’s an angel with the most beautiful accent I’ve ever heard. I slid into his DMs on IG and then he was messaging me an hour later, liking all my pics, and asking me if I’ve ever been to Sweden. I’m going to try to go visit Stockholm in December to try to see him during Christmas when I know he’ll be back at home.

How I meet men.

I use Bumble, Hinge, and the good old-fashioned way of leading people in person. I can do a post on the best way I’ve met people in person and some of the venues I like. I think everyone who reads this will agree that there’s just something about a man who treats you well, is strong, and has a thick wallet and good looks. Every girl deserves a guy like that and I think it’s important that black women do not take any bullshit and don’t compromise on what they want. There are men out there who would drop everything in their hands to do something for me, the princess treatment isn’t a myth at all, and I have met so many men who are able and willing to invest in me and my lifestyle. Again, if you know what you want, then you’re going to get it but you have to be willing to put the work in.

Richarlotte x

[cartierre]

SHOOTING STAR | cl16

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU charles leclerc x fem!kpop idol!reader

side note: this lowkey made me want to start a kpop account lmao second side note: this took forever to edit. like, to actually edit because a lot of the posts are custom made. original songs: "shooting star" by xg "motospeed24" and "animal farm" by bibi "best lover" by 88rising and bibi "anywhere but home" by seulgi "impurities" by le sserafim

♡ liked by charles_leclerc, taeyeon_ss, hyoyeon_x_x and 2,749,304 others

yourusername Y/N The 5th Mini Album 'SHOOTING STAR' 🎧2023.02.17 6PM (KST) #당신의 이름 (your name) #Y/N #SHOOTINGSTAR

view all 9,392 comments

user1 omg finally, we've been starved for long enough!

user2 i didn't know charles listened to kpop ⤷ user4 watch them announcing they're dating ⤷ user5 the delusion lmao

user6 y/n and bts collab when

taeyeon_ss my angel is back! comment liked by yourusername ⤷ yourusername 🫶🏻🫶🏻

user7 Y/N LITERALLY NEVER DISAPPOINTS. THE VISUALS OML ⤷ user8 she is the idol of idols

♡ liked by charles_leclerc, yerimiese, real_pcy and 2,103,098 others

yourusername SHOOTING STAR MV Teaser 🎧2023.02.17 6PM (KST) #당신의 이름 (your name) #Y/N #SHOOTINGSTAR

view all 8,302 comments

user9 charles continues being here ⤷ user10 he's entering his kpop phase

user11 mother is motheringggggg

user12 i just know we're gonna have a whole feast!

user13 charles liking all her posts... my two worlds are colliding ⤷ user14 we love it here

♡ liked by charles_leclerc, bumkeyk, taeyeon_ss and 2,938,031 others

yourusername 너무 예뻐요 (so pretty)

view all 9,208 comments

user15 EXCUSE ME THE LAST PICTURE??!! ⤷ user16 i'm GAGGED

user17 first she's dropping soty (song of the year) and now she drops a soft launch? ⤷ user18 fuck the soft launch, i want a hard launch. i need to know who this is

user19 charles stuck in the likes... am i sensing something? ⤷ user20 i mean... it is race week...

user21 laughing, crying, throwing up rn

user22 sorry but y/n is for the girls and the girls only ⤷ user23 whoever this is needs to move his ass away from her fr

user24 everyone's fighting but i'm just glad my girl y/n is getting dicked down

♡ liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, zkdlin and 2,938,204 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

yourusername 모두 빨간색 (all red)

view all 10,053 comments

user25 IT'S HAPPENING, I REPEAT, IT IS HAPPENING

user26 y/n dropping a picture of both charles and carlos to make it less obvious that she's dating charles is so funny

charles_leclerc a not so great weekend, but great company! comment liked by yourusername

user27 charles finally got the balls to comment after lurking in her likes for ages ⤷ user28 and she doesn't even reply HAHAHAHA poor charles

[princesssmars]

i love your shiv nsfw fic!!! you're so good at writing them, could you write another shiv roy x female reader smut fic? it's so hard finding them these days

no strings

a shiv roy x reader.

your time studying abroad is nearly over, and you luck out with a job working for a luxury boating service. this summer the billionaire roy family is vacationing, and the youngest daughter gives you an exciting proposal.

wc : 1.391

contains : fluff. semi angst. smut. talks of fxfxm threesome. exhibitionism : tom watches you and shiv go at it. oral and penetrative sex (receiving).

a/n : anon why did i literally have a dream with tom and shiv the night you sent this...and you are so right why is the shiv tag so dead omg i came a year after the show ended thinking i’d be fed 💔 also thanks for saying i’m good every time i write smut i laugh bc i’m a big baby.

when you signed up for a summer job, you sure as hell weren't expecting this.

at least you had the excuse of this not being a very croatian or italian custom. coming here to study was something you did on a whim, and wouldnt be the first time you made a crazy decision just because, you still had flashbacks to the time you skinny dipped with people who you had just met at a bar an hour earlier.

thankfully over the years your exploring ways had toned down to a reasonable amount. after all, you couldnt be a luxury stewardess who was always getting in to trouble. the clients did insane background checks, seriously, one old bastard asked what it was like going to such an average kindergarten.

but for now, it was fine. it paid well, you only had to serve rich pricks for a few days at a time, and it was helping pay off your student loans. plus if you bat your eyes at the right people you got a considerable tip.

your coworker and friend, petra, suggested you do a little more for some extra money, but you shrugged it off with a laugh each time. the last thing you wanted was to have some crazy millionaire getting too attached to you and causing trouble in your normal life.

but your final semester has ended, you’ve made plans to move back home to jersey at the end of the summer, and that only leaves you with a few more jobs until you’re done with this job. you tried, you really really tried to keep your wits about you, but one of the clients is contacting you before the family lands to the boat with an offer.

a threesome. with her and her husband. no strings attached.

the service you worked for normally declined telling you the names of who your team will be working for, even going as far as to lock your phones on the boats to make sure you weren’t posting them during their private time.

but even you, now living halfway across the world, knew about this family. the roys, owners of one of the biggest media conglomerates of the past era. it was hard not to see reports in the morning from atn news, or the insane amount of advertising you’d see about their international mediterranean cruises.

(well, after their recent scandal about sexual misconduct in the fucking senate, you had a feeling you wouldn’t be seeing too many ads anymore.)

you were sure it was the daughter of the family calling you, recognizing her voice over the phone and being confirmed when she met up with you before she got on the boat. she was gorgeous and a little scary, enjoying the scent of her perfume when she slides the nda over to you to sign.

it was exciting, working on the boat and seeing her eyes occasionally trailing your figure. maybe it would’ve been more enticing if every time her husband looked at you he didn’t look like one of those hanging cat posters. shame, he was cute.

you’re cleaning up one of the tables after the family had eaten a crazy short dinner. you’re still reeling after witnessing how dysfunctional these people were when your phone buzzes on your pocket, courtesy of shiv pulling a few strings. the text from her is just her cabin number and a time that’s ten minutes ahead. short and to the point.

when you knock on the door you can hear a conversation on the other side come to halt, fast footsteps coming to the door before yanking it open. you’d seen her earlier in the day but got did shiv look gorgeous, ginger hair framing her face as the soft lighting of the room illuminated her bare shoulders.

she’s smiling at you, all sickly sweet as she leads you into the room before locking the door behind you, telling you to just sit on the bed. the bed is large and soft, and your mind wanders about how these people can have whole hotel rooms on the ocean and still be so unhappy when a throat clearing knocks you out of your thoughts, the husband sitting in a chair across the bed to your left. he gives a little smile and a wave and you do it back.

“this is tom. he’s just gonna watch us for a while, ok?” she checks in with you, crossing her legs as she sits next to you, softly moving your hair behind your shoulder. you nod. “good. tel us if you don’t like something.”

you try to nod again but her palm is on your cheek and bringing your face to hers, soft lips kissing you like she’s starving. her tounge is in your mouth, and when you try to move your body to sit on her lap she’s pushing you back, resting your back on the bed. you can faintly hear the fabric of tom’s clothes as he moves on his seat.

she urges your pants down your legs, barely waiting for you to kick off your shoes before she’s rubbing you through your panties, biting and nipping at the skin of your neck as you left out small moans into the air.

“sure you don’t wanna touch her, tom? she’s so soft, so pretty.” she licks a line up your throat and to your mouth, swallowing your moan in her mouth. her husband doesn’t reply and you don’t dwell on it for long. you’ve heard of exhibitionists before, looks like her husband is one of them.

you bite her bottom lip and revel in the groan you feel in her mouth and chest, your own muffled noise escaping when she stuffs a finger inside you. she’s using her thumb to rub at your clip while she thrusts, pulling away from the kiss to look at your face.

it feels good but it’s not enough, which you make clear when you beg her under your breath to give you more of anything. thankfully she doesn’t seem to be in a teasing mood, not thanking any time to push her second finger inside of you.

“oh, fuck-“ your leg kicks out and you fist the sheets as you focus on the pleasure. it’s clear she’s done this before, skilled in the way she hits your g spot at just the right angle and rubs your clit. her head turns to likely look at her husband, while yours flops on the bedsheets.

you’re so distracted you don’t notice them having a small chat, mind on cloud nine. you do notice when she dips her head to kiss your chest that’s exposed after she unbuttoned your shirt, then dips lower, and lower, and lower-

when you feel her mouth circle your clit in your mouth you let out an airy moan, feeling the ball in the pit of your stomach grow. she eats you out just like she kisses you, sloppier than you expected for someone that’s looks as polished as she does. her hands are squishing the fat of your thighs, and when she shakes her head from side to side in your pussy you cum, trying to soundproof your moans into your arms as the other clutches at her head.

she helps ease you down from your high, placing kisses on your clit and your thighs and even cleaning you up with her mouth as you let out fast shaky breaths. you’re given maybe a few minutes of relaxation before she’s tugging your pants back up, buttoning up your shirt before giving a quick pat to the top of your thigh.

“that was fun, huh?”

you laugh, nodding your head since you can’t find the words. you push yourself up on your arms, staring up at the woman above you as she smiles down at you. your eyes drift to her husband who’s still sitting on the armchair, face flushed and taking in quick breaths like he’s the one who just got fucked instead of you.

“yeah, yeah it was fun.”

you collect yourself, fixing up your hair in the mirror on the wall as shiv leads you to the door.

“saw in your file you’re from jersey. maybe we’ll call you sometime once all this shit blows over, yeah?”

this summer couldn’t end fast enough.

[horanghxnni]

coffee shop meet-cute. - j.w.w.

PAIRING: Jeon Wonwoo x Reader

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

TAGS: meet cute, strangers to lovers one-shot, barista!reader, non-idol!wonwoo; pure fluff, oblivious pining

WARNINGS: mentions of food/eating; i tried my best to write as gender neutral as possible, but i haven't proofread this more than once so pls let me know if it's not; other than that none (please let me know if i've missed anything)

NOTES: this is my first post here on tumblr omg. hi! i've been a big fan of work here and i've been writing for a while (i shall not discuss my cursed wattpad days when i was younger) and thought i'd start posting here for fun. i hope you enjoy! <3

You had started working at this local coffee shop when you were 16, at first as a way to earn cash on the weekends to fund your high school escapades, and now, 7 years later, you grew to love the feeling of crafting drinks and managing the shop you now felt was like a second home. You worked every day, and opening the quaint little shop meant that the first hour or so was a quiet peace to yourself, filled with the smell of brewing espresso and baking croissants. 

The morning rush came like clockwork, beginning at 7:15 am and finally reaching a calmer pace around 8 am. Just when the busy atmosphere began to subside and the day reached its first slump, a clearly anxious man made his way to the front counter, hurriedly ordering an iced americano and holding out his card before you could even tell him how much it would cost. You rang him up, and he left the counter to stand in a corner with a polite nod to wait for his coffee, glancing at the clock. You make his simple order as quickly as possible and set it on the pickup counter, calling his name. “Wonwoo, iced americano?” 

He grabs his cup and thanks you quietly, before hurriedly leaving the shop, not even bothering to grab a straw. You don’t think too much of it and get back to filling the pastry case as the curious stranger becomes a distant memory by the end of the day. 

That is, until you notice he comes in every day, always at the same time, just before 9 am. He enters with the same kind of energy, always as if he’s perpetually running late, and orders the same thing: iced americano, and if he was feeling peckish, a blueberry muffin. He never talked much, and the only thing you knew about him other than his coffee order was that his name was Wonwoo, he seemed to have a horrible concept of time, and he must work in some office to be dressed in business casual every day. This Groundhog Day feeling encounter with him remained as a growing routine for you, until 3 weeks later when you began to anticipate his arrival, and you had his order ready and waiting for him by the time he reached the counter. Your interaction grew more efficient as time passed, with a single swap of his debit card for his coffee, and his transaction down to 30 seconds, handing him back his card in record timing. You figured it was helping him, right? He was late to work, or something time-sensitive at least, and you made his caffeine pit-stop easier. It was a win-win: you gained another regular, and he got his coffee without hindering his morning. 

He ruined your flow one Wednesday afternoon. Once again, he arrived just before 9 am, but he walked in much slower this time, and he was wearing much more casual clothes, a faded gray t-shirt and jeans, a brown messenger bag slung on his shoulder. As usual, his coffee was already done, and you almost dropped a tray of apple tarts as he entered almost as an entirely different person. You set them in the pastry case with renewed care, and met him at the register. 

“Not in a rush this morning?” You asked, clearly confused but friendly, as you pushed his cup towards him. 

He chuckled, shaking his head as his eyes roved over the rows of pastries and sandwiches you had displayed. “Nope, we started a hybrid schedule so I’m working from home on Wednesdays.” He met your eyes for a moment before shifting back to the sweets, thinking. “I’m thinking about trying something new, what do you recommend?” 

It took you a moment before you adapted to the fact that you’d heard more than two words from him. His voice was smooth and deeper than you expected, and it seemed to sink into your bones. “Um, well the apple tarts are new, and we make pop tarts in house.” 

He nodded and took one more glance before meeting your eyes. “I’ll take one of each, for here.” He gave you a small smile and slid over his debit card, once again catching you off guard. For here? He was staying? You nodded silently and began to warm his sweets as you rang him up. He thanked you and took back his card, settling in a seat a few feet down the counter, pulling out his laptop and beginning to type quietly. You couldn’t help but steal glances at him as you made his little pastry plate, not used to his presence. You were so used to his rush of energy that seeing him so still and calm was confusing. You decided just before you gave him his plate that you’d slip a cake pop next to the tart, you had made extras today anyway. With a nod, you place it beside his laptop and don’t even wait for an acknowledgement, leaving the pretty stranger to his work and busying yourself with cleaning some dirty cups from earlier this morning and wiping down the counters. 

“The poptart is good. Do you make them yourself?” His voice cut through the quiet lo-fi music playing over the speakers as you paused from your cleaning. You turned to see him already looking at you, the half-eaten poptart in his hand. 

You nodded and put down the rag in your hand. “Yeah, every morning. The flavor changes depending on what fruit I can get my hands on.” You see him nod in approval, and he sets it down on his plate as he turns his full attention to you. 

“Thank you for the cake pop. And for making my coffee so quickly every day, it really helps me out.” He appears more bashful now, almost bordering embarrassed, as his cheeks flush an almost imperceptible pink. “I know I seem pretty pressed for time most mornings.” 

You laugh at his comment, thinking back to the quiet whirlwind of his stressed aura that appears in the shop every day. “Of course, I don’t want to make you any later than you already seem to be.” You pause for a moment before speaking again, wondering if you should ask the innocent question in your mind. He seems open to conversation, and it’s not like anyone else was demanding your attention at the moment. “Where do you work anyway?” 

“Oh, I work at the Pledis building, I’m a writer there for content creation. I’m not technically late ever, but I like to get there at a certain time and I definitely overestimate the time I need to commute.” He answers sheepishly, and you smile. A writer for such a big company? Impressive. 

You spoke for a little bit longer before another rush began, learning he’d been working at Pledis for a few years now, and his friend Joshua had recommended this coffee shop to him a few months ago, but he hadn’t had the chance to come until a few weeks ago. Of course your favorite regular would have pushed him here, and little details seemed to fit into place as your small chats throughout the few hours he remained at the bar revealed more and more about each other. Around 4 pm, he left with a wave, trying his best not to distract you too much. You waved back, and with an offhanded, “See you tomorrow!”, he left the cafe, the door jingling behind him. 

_____________ 

The next morning, Wonwoo surprised you again. He came in at 8:30, standing at the register while you finished the last of the morning rush orders, you hadn’t even seen him walk in. You turned to take the order only to see a face that wasn’t supposed to be here for another 20 minutes. 

“Oh, you’re here early! I’m sorry, I haven't made your coffee yet.” Of course you hadn’t. You had timed your routine almost down to the second, and he had thrown off your entire groove. He simply smiled and shook his head. 

“It’s okay, I have some time this morning. I’ll get my usual and another poptart, it doesn't matter the flavor.” He points to the plate and pulls out some cash. “You can keep the change.” Wonwoo, without another word, moves to where he sat the day before, settling in and pulling out his phone. 

You make his coffee and warm his poptart, placing it in a to-go sleeve, placing both in front of him. “So, I finally get my routine down with you and you all of a sudden decide you want to switch it up?” You raise an eyebrow at him. 

He looks up from his phone, a small smile growing on his lips. “Figured if I got here a little earlier, I’d relieve you of the time constraint.” His smile shifts into a frown after a moment. “I’m sorry if it threw you off that bad, I didn’t-”

You wave a hand at him, shaking your head. “Don’t worry about it, I was just messing with you.” 

His body visibly relaxes as he reaches for his coffee. “Thanks, Y/N.” You couldn’t help but grin as you hear your name in his voice, and you nod and turn before he can see just how wide your smile could get. You make small talk as he finishes his coffee and pastry, asking about his work and new recipes brewing in your head for the next 20 or so minutes before he declares he is leaving to head to work. 

“This was nice, actually sitting down before work. Maybe I’ll do this more often.” He hands you his plate as you agree, placing it in the sink to deal with later. 

“Thanks for hanging out with me this morning. You’re welcome anytime, obviously.” You say your goodbyes, and with another small smile, he leaves, and you’re left thinking of the way his smile lights up his face for the rest of the day. 

_____________ 

For the next few weeks, Wonwoo arrives around 20-30 minutes early. Your new routine involves pleasant conversation as you work, and him becoming a taste tester for new recipes before they hit the pastry case. You become used to each other’s presence, and with every new interaction, he grows more and more talkative. He tells you about frustrations from work from the day before, or a movie he had just watched over the weekend. You tell him about your roommate endeavors and outings you’d gone on recently. You consider yourselves friends at this point, and it was nice to have someone like him around when the morning felt like too much to handle. 

You had offhandedly mentioned taking a few days off one day and Wonwoo encouraged rest, but through all the chaos of pushed forward deadlines at work, he had completely forgotten until he arrived at the cafe one morning to see someone completely different behind the counter. He was confused to see his usual coffee was still sitting waiting for him in its normal place with his name on it, set aside on the counter, yet he did not recognize the barista currently finishing up a latte. As he slowly stepped up to the pickup counter and grabbed his drink, the employee looked up and met his gaze. 

“Oh, you must be Wonwoo. There’s your iced americano, there’s a muffin in the bag beside it.” His demeanor was nonchalant, as he placed the other drink on the counter and called out the order. 

“Is Y/N not in today?” It was the first thing he could think of, despite the answer being obvious. 

The younger boy looked up from his work. “No, they're off all week. They left me a note saying a guy named Wonwoo would come in at 8:30 and that was your usual.” He shrugged and looked down again at his brewing espresso shots. “I guess that’s you. I’m Chan, I usually work afternoons but I’m covering for Y/N this week.” 

Wonwoo nods, still processing what he had just heard. Y/N’s gone all week? Why hadn’t they said anything? He suddenly felt stupid as he remembered a conversation from two weeks ago, where Y/N finally decided the week they would take a solo trip to Jeju to visit their grandmother: this week. “Right. Thanks, Chan.” 

Chan nods back at him and Wonwoo leaves the cafe still in a semi-daze after setting down some cash, suddenly feeling as if he was thrown off balance, an unfamiliar budding feeling of disappointment settling deep in his chest. He makes his way to work, suddenly feeling like his predictable coffee didn’t taste the same. 

The rest of his work day was surprisingly only getting worse: he had printed the wrong files, was late to a meeting he was supposed to lead, and currently Joshua was trying (and failing) to speak to him about a conference they were attending the following month as Wonwoo unintentionally tuned him out. Suddenly, he felt a light shove of his shoulder pull him out of his trance.

“Dude, what is wrong with you? Have you heard anything I said?” Joshua raised an accusatory eyebrow at his friend and coworker. Wonwoo’s eyes suddenly gained focus as he looked up to see Joshua leaning against his desk. 

“I-” he attempted to think of an excuse, “I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little distracted, my whole day feels thrown off.” He frowned and turned his chair toward the other man. “What were you saying?” 

Joshua’s mouth crept into an almost dangerous smirk as he took a glance at Wonwoo’s still full coffee cup, an unfamiliar handwriting scrawling his name on the top. “You didn’t see Y/N this morning.” 

Wonwoo almost choked on his own spit. “What? How- how do you know that?” 

The older boy rolled his eyes and pointed to the cup. “That’s not Y/N’s handwriting. I see them before you do most mornings, and they're not in town. They told me last week. I thought you knew.” 

“I did know, I just forgot, with everything going on at work.” Wonwoo couldn’t help but frown. Had not seeing them really thrown him off that much? “What does not seeing them have to do with anything though?” 

Joshua scoffed. “Dude, every time you come from that cafe, you walk in like you just won the lottery, and you see them every day. You like them, don’t you?” 

It was the last part that struck Wonwoo to his very core. He’d never even considered that to be an option before. Sure, Y/N was stunning, and kind, and he’d found great company in the barista, but like them? Romantically? Maybe it was more possible than he imagined. His face seemed to drop, as Joshua laughed at his rapid change in expression. 

“It’s okay if you do. They seem to make you happy. I think you should go for it.” With a grin that would rival the Cheshire cat, Joshua claps his friend on the shoulder before leaving his desk to return to his own, as Wonwoo’s brain settles on entertaining this thought that seems to bloom an unfamiliar feeling in his chest, replacing the heavy stone of disappointment from earlier. 

_____________

You were back after a relaxing few days with your grandmother, spending time in the sun and looking out on the ocean. Although the time off was needed, you couldn’t help but think about not only your cafe, but a specific regular you hadn’t seen since last week. You hoped Chan had made his usual for him as she said on the note, and you were excited to catch up with Wonwoo about the last week, and honestly, just to see him again. Spending the last few days without seeing each other triggered the realization that he was more special to you than you had initially thought, and though he may not feel the same, you were content with the friendship you had formed already. 

You opened the cafe without issue, and a sense of calm washed over you as you fell back into your routine. The morning rush felt like a breeze as you fell into a groove and before you knew it, 8:30 rolled around and the man you’d been thinking of walked through the door. He was early, as he now often was, but his anxious energy was back. He stepped up to the counter as you handed him his coffee, a fresh pop tart on a plate sliding his way as well. 

“It’s on the house today. I’m sure you missed my magic touch last week.” You joked, your smile widening. His mouth opened before it shut once more, mirroring your grin as he said a quiet thank you as he took his seat. You caught up on missed stories, with mostly you telling stories of your vacation as he sat quietly and listened as you multitasked. It wasn’t until you asked him a question and received no answer that you looked up at him from the espresso machine to see him simply staring at you. “Wonwoo?” 

You saw his eyes clear as his face rapidly turned a deep shade of red. “I’m sorry, I was listening. I just-” He paused, and your brows furrowed. 

“Are you alright?” You asked, putting down the espresso shot and giving him your full focus. 

“Do you want to, maybe, go to dinner sometime?” His eyes couldn’t meet yours at first, until suddenly the dark brown of his irises met yours and you melted at the adoration you felt behind his gaze. 

“Wonwoo, are you asking me on a date?” You couldn’t believe this was happening. You watched his cheeks redden further as he nodded and you couldn’t help the way you seemed to beam at him. “I’d like that very much. Maybe this Saturday, if you’re free?” 

You watched the anxiety leave his body in an instant as he agreed. He handed you his phone as he stood up, coffee cup and plate now empty. “Put your number in and I’ll call you?” 

You punched your contact information in and handed him the phone in exchange for his dishes, and watched as he clumsily pushed in his seat and grabbed his things. “Have a good day at work, Wonwoo. It was nice to see you.” 

“It was good to see you. I’ll call you later tonight, if that’s okay.” You nodded and if he smiled any wider, he thought his lips might start to crack. With one last goodbye, he left out the door, and his eyes didn’t leave your beautiful face through the window until he lost line of sight.

[wigglywormy]

blurred lines, sharp twine [bakugou/deku, 5.6k, nsfw]

okay. so I haven't written a fic in over 5 years!! can y'all believe that? i used to be so active on this blog, pumping out fics day and night, but life got busy and before I knew it over 5 years have passed omg.

of course my first fic back would be something like this lol. this was written for @wreckingtickles who shares my undying love for bakugou getting absolutely destroyed. they prompted me with a fic featuring bakugou's stirrup leggings and that kinda spiraled into this huge monster of a fic.

please enjoy 8) (also i made an ao3 to cross-post my tickle fics on!)

warnings: nsfw, feet, intense tickling, bondage, veryyyy slight dub-con, minors DNI.

Izuku wouldn’t openly call himself a weird guy, but he definitely doesn’t really try to hide the fact that he’s a little on the strange side. He knows he’s a gigantic nerd (he’s thoroughly reminded of that fact by Bakugou everyday), he knows he’s a little awkward, and he knows he’s maybe even a little bit of a freak. But, through the years of trauma, war, violence, and near-death, he’s come to accept that life is much too short to deny who you are.

Moving in with Bakugou after graduation was something Izuku didn’t even have to think about. Bakugou set up a few apartment viewings, and it went completely unsaid that the smartest decision for both of them would be to stick together. Roommates equaled cheaper rent, and since they both were working under the same agency it was easy to align their schedules. Normally they patrol together (the Wonder Due didn’t get its name for nothing), but occasionally - especially lately - Bakugou has been picking up more shifts than usual. 

Izuku can’t help but notice how tired Bakugou has been lately, especially tonight, coming home  from his 9th day in a row of patrol. The door closes softly behind him - he must think Izuku’s asleep already as it’s around two in the morning, and Izuku turns slightly from his position curled up on the couch to watch Bakugou toe his boots off. He’s already changed out of his hero uniform, clad in only his leggings and a soft, worn looking hoodie that Izuku’s pretty sure belongs to him. 

Bakugou leans his head against the wall in the foyer for a brief moment, sighing deeply, and Izuku’s heart aches at the noise.

“Late night?” Izuku asks, closing his book and setting it on the coffee table. 

Bakugou jumps. “Jesus - shit, you scared the fuck outta me.”

“Sorry,” Izuku murmurs, a slight smile on his face. 

“The fuck are you still doing up?” Bakugou grumbles, finally making his way over to sprawl on the opposite end of the couch, sinking into the cushions with a grunt. 

Izuku shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Which, technically isn’t a lie, but. Still. Even when he lays in his bed at night during one of Bakugou’s shifts that he’s not partnered on, he finds himself teetering between sleep and wakefulness as he listens carefully for the front door to open and shut, signaling Bakugou has gotten home safe for the night. Codependency wasn’t something Izuku was planning on adopting after the war, but his heart just can’t seem to relax if he doesn’t know that Bakugou is home and safe. Breathing. Alive.  

Normally it’s fine, but since Bakugou has been working himself to death the past few weeks, Izuku’s own sleep schedule has taken a toll. 

Bakugou doesn’t look bloodied or bruised now, though, which is a good sign. 

“I thought your shift ended at midnight?” Izuku asks, his eyes unconsciously skimming over Bakugou’s exhausted body as he slumps further down into the cushions. He folds his arms over his chest, burrowing into the oversized borrowed hoodie, and Izuku smiles because Bakugou is so loud and brash, but right now, here and safe at home, he allows himself to be soft with Izuku.

“It was supposed to,” Bakugou grumbles, rubbing a hand over his face. “One of the interns got caught up in a stupid bank robbery and ended up with a fuckin’ concussion, so I stayed late to help finish up some of his paperwork.”

“That’s sweet of you, Kacchan,” Izuku teases, and Bakugou rolls his eyes, stretching his legs out to rest in Izuku’s lap.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugou says, voice tense with exhaustion, “I’m a fuckin’ saint.”

Izuku let’s his hands fall onto Bakugou’s ankles, rubbing gently with his thumbs, and he swallows heavily as his eyes trail down Bakugou’s body, the black leggings hugging his muscles tightly, all the way down to the thin straps holding the stirrups along the arches of his feet.

Izuku wouldn’t openly call himself a weird guy, but shit, that’s another thing about moving in with Bakugou after graduation. Getting to see all of these new and exciting sides of him; tense and angry and bloody after a fight, soft and exhausted after a long boring shift, sleepy and comfortable on his day off. 

But the damn stirrup leggings have Izuku trying desperately hard not to act up. 

“Do you - uh, want a foot rub or something?” Izuku blurts out, his thumb pressing into the bone of Bakugou’s ankle.

Bakugou’s eyes narrow, and Izuku offers a small nervous smile, trying not to seem as if he’s too interested. He just wants to help his friend relax, okay? Nothing weird about that. It’s not like they haven’t massaged each other before after a long day of hero work. Bakugou’s great with his hands, and Izuku’s arms and shoulders get knotted up so tightly after hours of using his quirk. 

Bakugou still has smudges of dark eyeliner around his eyes since he hasn’t washed his face yet since patrol, and it makes his gaze piercing in the low light of the living room. He’s quiet for a moment, contemplative, before shrugging eventually and folding his arms across his chest.

“Fuck it, I ain’t gonna say no to a free foot massage,” He shrugs, “Lemme take these stupid fuckin’ leggings off first - ”

“No!” Izuku blurts out, and he chuckles awkwardly as his grip tightens on Bakugou’s ankles. “I mean - um. You don’t have to, it’s fine.”

This time, Bakugou looks… curious, which is the only way Izuku can describe his gaze. He bites his lip a bit as he thinks, and when he wiggles his toes a bit, Izuku feels warmth pooling low in his belly. Bakugou’s feet are surprisingly slender, his arch defined beautifully, ideal for someone who has to be quick on their feet. His toes are slightly pink, as are the soles of his feet, and they look soft from being in his boots all day. Izuku swallows thickly, but god, he just wants to touch. 

Is he into feet? Who knows, maybe, he honestly hasn’t thought too much about it until recently. Maybe he’s just into Bakugou’s feet? When Bakugou wiggles his toes again, Izuku finally glances up and catches his gaze. 

“Well? What’re you waitin’ for,” Bakugou says, his voice softer than it’s been all night. 

Izuku’s hands are large, tan, and calloused - a stark contrast against Bakugou’s pale skin, and at the fist press of his thumbs into the arch, Bakugou exhales quickly through his nose, body sinking further into the couch. 

It’s a little difficult to massage his feet with the strap from his stirrups hugging his arches, but at this moment in time Izuku would rather die than ask Bakugou to take them off. He moves over to just one foot, pressing both thumbs into the heel of his foot, and he slowly works his way up, calluses catching onto the legging strap as he moves upwards. 

“Did the bank robber get caught?” Izuku asks, hands firm but delicate, watching as Bakugou’s toes twitch when he digs in beneath them. 

“What?” Bakugou replies, blinking his eyes open where they’ve fallen shut. “The - oh, shit. Yeah. Sero was actually patrolling nearby so he got him while I took the dumbass intern to medical.”

“Don’t be so mean,” Izuku chuckles, “We were dumbass interns once, too.”

“Interns, yes. Dumbass? No,” Bakugou shoots back, but then he smirks. “Well, I wasn’t a dumbass. Can’t say the same about you, nerd.”

Izuku rolls his eyes, and he can’t help it when his touch softens, hooking a finger underneath the stirrup strap to graze his nail along the delicate arch. 

The reaction is instant - Bakugou inhales sharply and twitches, looking ready to pull his leg back, but Izuku holds onto the strap, preventing him from moving away. 

“Deku,” Bakugou growls, and to everyone else on this planet, the expression on his face would scream angry, sharp, intimidating. 

But Izuku’s known him since they were kids. Izuku can read him like a damn book, and right now underneath that glare, Bakugou looks nervous.

Izuku keeps his touch soft, one finger hooked into the stirrup strap, while his other hand grazes right beneath the blonde’s toes. His foot twitches again, his toes curling up tightly, and the only word that comes to Izuku’s mind is cute. His feet are cute, and apparently sensitive, and Izuku has no idea what monster has taken over his brain but all he wants to do right now is see Bakugou squirm. 

He might be dipping into dangerous territory, but ever since they moved in together, Bakugou’s been much more open to physical touch. It almost feels like a game they’ve been playing, dancing around each other but never going to a place they can’t return from. They’ve fallen asleep cuddling on the couch. They’ve spent quiet days off with Izuku’s head in Bakugou’s lap, the blonde idly playing with his hair while they watch old reruns of All Might movies together. They’ve even spent a few nights together in bed, holding each other close when the nightmares creep up every few weeks. 

But this? This might be a place they can’t return from. Izuku’s not sure what Bakugou’s feeling right now, but the lines are so incredibly blurred in this moment, and Bakugou’s cheeks are steadily turning pink, and Izuku knows he could pull away if he really, really tried. 

But he’s not. He’s staying put, fingers clenched into the cushions of the couch, eyeing Izuku warily. 

“You know,” Izuku says idly, moving one hand to grip Bakugou’s ankle, the other hand trailing his fingers up and down, up and down, so soft it’s barely there. “You used to be so mean when we were kids, holding me down and tickling me until I cried.”

At the word - tickling - Bakugou audibly swallows. “Not my fault you were so damn ticklish, idiot.” 

“I could never really get you back because you were so much stronger than me,” Izuku muses. 

“It wouldn’t have mattered anyways, I’m not fuckin’ ticklish,” Bakugou replies. His voice sounds sure and steady, but his eyes keep flickering down to where Izuku is still stroking up and down his sole. He’s tense, and Izuku can feel it - Bakugou’s trying so hard not to move, not to give himself away. 

Izuku laughs quietly to himself. Of course Bakugou would see this as a challenge to himself. 

“Of course you’re not ticklish, Kacchan,” Izuku says, “Maybe if you keep telling yourself that, it might actually come true.”

“It is true, you little shit - ah!”

He squeaks, his breath hitching, when Izuku flutters his fingers under his toes again. His other leg, the one Izuku isn’t holding by the ankle, jerks back, and Izuku thinks no, we can’t have that now, before tendrils of black whip shoot out, pulling his other leg back and twisting around the ankle. 

“Okay, now that’s completely fuckin’ unfair,” Bakugou grunts, trying to sound unaffected, but this time Izuku can hear the shake in his voice. “The hell are you tryin’ do here, Deku?”

“Nothing,” Izuku says, a few more tendrils of black whip emerging to wrap around his other ankle so both of Izuku’s hands are free now. 

“You call this nothing?” Bakugou tugs at his feet a bit, and black whip tightens to keep him in place. 

Izuku ignores him. “I thought you weren’t ticklish?”

Bakugou frowns. “I’m not.”

“Then this is nothing,” Izuku teases, finally wiggling his fingers in earnest over both of Bakugou’s feet, now bound in his lap for him to do with as he pleases. The thought has his stomach flipping, molten lava settling low in his gut, and he can’t help his dick twitching in interest. 

Bakugou’s reaction is beautiful, finally a small huff of laughter escaping him as he wiggles his feet as much as he can with black whip holding his ankles down. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, and they keep alternating from clutching at the cushion beneath him to hovering in the air as if he’s fighting his instinct of reaching down and showing Izuku away. His eyes are averting, as if the thought of watching Izuku tickle him is too much, and oh, he’s so cute. 

Izuku’s feeling a little nice at the moment, but Bakugou’s fighting his laughter, and Izuku wants to hear him, so he moves his fingers up, scratching underneath his toes. Bakugou does laugh this time, covering his mouth with one hand in surprise as the sound escapes him. His toes curl, trying to block Izuku’s fingers, and a few more tendrils of black whip slither out and wrap around each of his toes, effectively prying them back so Izuku’s fingers can burrow into the soft, sensitive flesh there. 

“Wait - no, Deku - ah, ahah.” His laughter is light and staccato, little gasps in between his growls as he covers his mouth with both hands now, muffling himself as his eyes squint in mirth. Once again, he could get Izuku to stop if he really wanted to, but besides the tugging and squirming of his bound feet, he’s not doing much else to get away.

That thought intrigues Izuku, and his confidence grows as he scratches in between his toes, pulled back and vulnerable thanks to black whip. 

“I always thought your feet might be sensitive, you know, with how much you sweat and stuff,” Izuku muses, gears turning in his head as he makes mental notes on where Bakugou seems to react the most to. Underneath his toes seems much more ticklish than between them, but the arch of his sole seems equally as sensitive, especially when he pulls back one of the stirrup straps and rakes all five fingers up and down. 

Bakugou gasps. “Y-you’re a d-dick,” he growls, but the words melt into laughter as Izuku does the same thing to his other foot before letting the strap go with a snap. 

He gives Bakugou a moment to breathe, and the blonde finally lowers his hands from his mouth. His face is extremely flushed now, and he’s looking at Izuku with a mix of murderous intent and… want?

“Still not ticklish?” Izuku murmurs, rubbing his palms over Bakugou’s soles. The blonde twitches again, tensing, before relaxing when Izuku just rubs firmly, soothing. 

“Once again - you’re a dick,” he grumbles. 

“And you’re ticklish,” Izuku teases back, scratching his nails up the sides of Bakugou’s feet this time before making their way back to the soft, pink skin right beneath his toes. 

“Don’t - Deku, st-stop! It f-fuckin’ - ” 

“It what?” Izuku’s feeling mean now, and having Bakugou squirming because of him has his dick hardening more in his sweats. “It tickles?”

“I - I c-can’t - ahahaha!” 

“You’re so strong, you can take it, can’t you?” And oh, Izuku’s playing dirty, because there’s nothing Bakugou hates than being told he can’t do something, and if he admits he can’t take the tickling, it’d be the same as admitting defeat, and Bakugou Katsuki is not someone who’s ever been defeated. 

Although, Izuku thinks, watching as Bakugou covers his mouth again and squeezes his eyes shut, tickling might just be the key to finally defeating this man. 

Izuku doesn’t like how muffled he sounds, though, so he uses more of black whip to sneakily slide up and twist around Bakugou’s wrists, tugging them away from his face. A few tendrils slip up his arms and slide underneath the sleeves of his hoodie, and Bakugou’s expression turns to panic. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” He hisses, but his lips are still twitching on a smile which ruins the intimidation of it. “This is an awful fuckin’ use of your quirk - ”

“So was last week, with yours,” Izuku interrupts, “when you were too lazy to microwave the popcorn and tried to just explode it instead.” Izuku laughs, remembering how long it took them to fish out all of the popcorn kernels from every single crevice in the living room. 

“At least that was for a good reason!” Bakugou protests, squirming when the tendrils of black whip slip higher into his sleeves, nearly grazing his underarms now. His breathing is short, body tensed and mouth turned down in a pout. 

“You’re saying this isn’t a good reason?”

“What, so fuckin’ torturing me is a good reason to abuse your quirk?”

“It’s torture?” Izuku murmurs. “I thought you weren’t ticklish.”

If Bakugou’s face could get any pinker, it would, and he bites his lip hard when Izuku wiggles black whip into the hollows of his underarms, keeping it light and feathery. Bakugou can’t hold out for long, though, and soon he’s gasping on a laugh and wriggling as much as he can in the hold Izuku has him in. 

This time though, Izuku fails to notice Bakugou’s feet squirming aggressively, and Izuku freezes and gasps when the blonde’s bound feet nudge against the very obvious hard-on in his sweats. 

Izuku swallows, his hands darting down to grab a hold of Bakugou’s feet. His toes are still tied back with black whip, and Izuku resists the urge to brush his fingers along the skin because something is unraveling inside of him and having Bakugou like this is quickly becoming addicting. Instead, he ducks his head, words escaping him as he opens his mouth but not coming up with anything to say. 

A few seconds pass, Izuku preparing himself mentally for an explosion to blast him away or for disgusted yelling and screaming to occur. He’s already mentally drafting the text to Todoroki to ask if he can move in with him when Bakugou inevitably kicks him out once he’s freed.

A beat passes. One. Two. The silence is deafening, and Izuku finally manages to raise his eyes up to glance at Bakugou, surprised at the curious expression painted there. Bakugou nudges his heels gently against Izuku’s dick again, and Izuku hisses and bites his lip, apologies already spilling from his mouth, 

“I’m s-sorry, shit, um - ”

“I should’ve fuckin’ known you’d be into something weird like this,” Bakugou says lowly, tilting his head a bit, almost like a cat analyzing it’s prey. “You’re a little freak, ain’t ya?”

The words should be harsh and piercing, but Bakugou sounds like he’s…. teasing him. And not in the mean, bullying way that Izuku was expecting. Their eyes meet, and Izuku sees a small hint of a smirk when Bakugou presses his heels in harder, wiggling against Izuku’s clothed cock as much as he can in his restraints. 

“Kacchan - ah,” Izuku sighs, cheeks burning. “What’re you - ”

“What is it you like about it, huh?” Bakugou asks, his voice low. 

Izuku’s head feels like it’s going to explode. “I don’t… I don’t know? I didn’t even - I mean… I like….”

Bakugou raises an eyebrow. His arms are still held tightly with black whip, the tendrils under his arms twitch when Izuku stutters, making Bakugou squeak quietly and jerk in his hold. That has Izuku’s eyes darkening again, and Bakugou still hasn’t blasted him away. If anything he’s egging him on, and Izuku’s mind races with what this might mean. 

“I like… you,” Izuku starts off slowly. 

“Me?” Bakugou questions, and if Izuku isn’t mistaken, there’s a twinge of something akin to hope in his voice. 

“Yeah, you,” Izuku breathes, all rational thoughts thrown to the wayside now. “But I also like… having you, like this,” Izuku plays with the stirrup straps on Bakugou’s soles, fiddling with the fabric, breathing hard when Bakugou squirms each time his fingers graze the skin. “I like feeling you squirm. Hearing you laugh. Having you all… y’know, vulnerable for me?”

As he speaks, a few more tendrils of black whip slip under the front hem of Bakugou’s hoodie, slithering up and tapping away at his ribs. That has Bakugou giggling again, and god, Izuku loves his laugh. This is different from his normal laugh, it’s softer and hiccupy and the sound sends white-hot heat straight to his dick. Shit, could he come from this? Just from having Bakugou squirming and laughing and bound up like a perfect little present?

“Jesus - Izuku,” Bakugou laughs, rubbing his thighs together, and Izuku’s eyes widen when he sees a bulge in his leggings, now visible from where his hoodie has ridden up. 

Izuku’s brain short-circuits then, and he’s now laser focused on the other boy, fingers moving almost mindlessly as they go back to scratching beneath sensitive toes. Izuku keeps his eyes on Bakugou’s face, his expressions, every twitch of his brow, and the blonde chokes on a laugh and ducks his head, trying to hide his face since Izuku has his arms pulled aside. 

“What do you like about it?” Izuku asks, growing bolder the more Bakugou squirms. 

“Fuck, oh my g-god, I d-dont - !”

Izuku moves finally, and though he keeps Bakugou bound with his quirk, he crawls up until he’s seated, straddling Bakugou’s thighs where they’re squeezed together, and now Izuku’s just a nudge away from Bakugou’s own obvious arousal. 

“You don’t like it?” Izuku says, and this time, he withdraws black whip from underneath Bakugou’s hoodie, instead sliding his own hands beneath the fabric to touch bare skin. His hands are warm and large, fingers curling gently over Bakugou’s deliciously tapered waist, and though he doesn’t do anything yet, Bakugou’s shifting and squirming beneath him already. 

Bakugou’s eyes meet Izuku’s finally, and when Izuku flicks his gaze down to Bakugou’s cock, hard as a rock in his leggings, Bakugou groans and ducks his head again. 

“It’s not - I don’t know!” Bakugou breathes out, frustration clear in his voice. “You’re just - fuck, it’s weird.”

“It’s not that weird, Kacchan,” Izuku murmurs, and Bakugou tugs helplessly at his arms again. Izuku hums, pulling his arms with black whip until his wrists are crossed, and then slowly - absolutely mean - he lifts Bakugou’s arms up and back until his elbows are bent, bound hands pulled behind his head and forcing Bakugou to lean back more into the arm of the couch. Izuku slides further up, straddling Bakugou’s thighs until their clothed cocks finally brush, and Bakugou breathes out a shaky noise. 

“It’s okay,” Izuku breathes. 

“Let me go,” Bakugou grumbles, but his eyes are averted, blush high on his cheeks, teeth gnawing at his lower lip nervously. And wow, having Bakugou nervous, beneath him where Izuku can feel the heat radiating off of his body, has Izuku grinding forward, rubbing their dicks together firmly. 

Bakugou instinctively tries to buck his hips up, but with the way he’s bound up, he can’t get too much leverage. Once again, he’s still not blasting Izuku off into the sun with his own quirk, so Izuku drums his fingers against Bakugou’s bare sides, drawing little circles with his thumbs right beneath his ribs. 

“Ah - ” Bakugou hiccups on another strained giggle, and Izuku grins at him sharply. 

“What do you like about it?” Izuku repeats, tickling oh-so-gently, because now that he has his hands touching him, he can’t stop. He can feel every hitch of breath, can feel his body tremble with restrained laughter, and there’s definitely no going back from here. 

When Bakugou doesn’t respond, Izuku creeps his hands higher, towards the upper part of his ribs. His hoodie is bunched up completely now, and although Izuku would love to remove the damn piece of clothing, he’s scared if he lets Bakugou go now, this electric bubble they’re both in will pop and Izuku will have missed his chance completely. 

He grinds against Bakugou again, while at the same time finally digging into his ribs, and the explosive laughter that Bakugou lets out has Izuku groaning out loud. 

“Okay - okahahay! Fuck!” Bakugou yelps, taking a breath when Izuku’s fingers finally pause. “I - fuck, I don’t know. I like… how it feels, not being… not being able to move or some shit, I guess.”

Bakugou looks like he’d rather die than tell Izuku all of this, but Izuku’s already gotten this far, and there’s nothing that would ever make him stop now. The blurred line is now vanished completely, and Izuku murmurs quietly,

“You like being tied up, Kacchan?”

Bakugou frowns, glaring at him, but doesn’t respond. 

Izuku continues, smirking. “You like being tied up by me?”

Bakugou squirms a bit, staying defiantly silent. 

“You like being tickled like this? Helpless, vulnerable, letting me do whatever I want to you while you can’t do anything to stop it?” Izuku has no idea where this filthy mouth of his came from, but he takes this newfound confidence and harnesses it, slipping a hand down to cup Bakugou through his leggings and squeeze. 

“Nn - fuck,” Bakugou pants. “No, you asshole, I don’t like being tickled - ”

“I disagree,” Izuku says, and this time when he pinches at Bakugou’s ribs, he can feel Bakugou’s cock jump beneath his hand as the blonde gasps out a laugh. “I actually think you really like it.”

“Just - when it’s you,” Bakugou finally gasps out, giggling softly as Izuku crawls his hand higher. His words give Izuku pause, Izuku’s heart beating rapidly in his chest because oh. Okay. Just when it’s him? Because it’s him?

Oh.

“Kacchan,” Izuku breathes, a magnetic pull tugging at his chest until he’s ducking down and kissing the laughter right out of Bakugou’s mouth. The blonde moans, tilting his head to the side to kiss him deeper, and Izuku happily licks into his mouth, chasing the feeling of god, fuck, finally. 

Bakugou jerks his head to the side though when Izuku’s hand creeps higher, fluttering dangerous fingers into his underarm, and he yelps on a laugh, squirming and bucking up into Izuku’s other hand still kneading at his dick. 

“Oh my god,” Bakugou giggles, shaking his head back and forth, and Izuku takes a moment to duck lower and kiss his neck, licking up beneath his jaw, biting gently right under his ear. That has Bakugou squeaking again, and Izuku moans as he feels the blonde tremble against him. 

“God, you’re so cute,” Izuku moans in disbelief. “How can you be so hot and cute at the same time?”

“Y-you should be - ah, ahaha - asking yourself th-that - fuck, Izuku, I cahahan’t!”

Izuku stops tickling him for a moment and grins. “You think I’m hot and cute?”

“Not right now, while you’re ti - ,” Bakugou cuts himself off with an embarrassed grunt, not even able to say the actual word, and Izuku takes note of that happily, “Also, fuck you, I’m not cute.”

Izuku doesn’t respond right away, instead opting for shoving Bakugou’s leggings down so they’re bunched around his thighs, freeing his dick, before settling back up where he was seated before. He pulls his own cock out of his sweats, and when he wraps a large, calloused hand around them both and strokes, squeezing perfectly tight, Bakugou throws his head back and moans. 

Tendrils of black whip slide down his legs where his feet are still tightly held in place, and as they flutter and scratch beneath his toes more intensely this time, Bakugou actually lets out a small sob, his eyes tearing up as he simultaneously tries to tug at his legs while also squirming up into Izuku’s hand on their cocks. 

“You’re feet are so sensitive,” Izuku muses, his pupils so dark his eyes look black, and although Bakugou can’t really kiss him back while he’s laughing, that doesn’t stop Izuku from swallowing up every little noise he makes, lips spit-slick and panting against Bakugou’s mouth. 

“Izu - Izuku, plehehease - ah, fuck, fuck,” He sounds like something straight out of one of Izuku’s wet dreams, and Izuku leans back again to stare at his face. Bakugou’s eyes are screwed up now, tears leaking out from the corners, and Izuku coos at him. 

“Baby,” he says sweetly, “Is it too much?”

“Y-yes, I can’t - Izuku please.”

“I think you’re stronger than that. It’s just tickling,” Izuku teases. Bakugou’s cock is leaking, and it’s making the slide of Izuku’s hand on them both so, so good. Izuku brings out some more tendrils of black whip, sliding them right back underneath Bakugou’s hoodie to return to the warmth of his underarms, and Bakugou screams. 

“It’s so - ahhaha, it’s t-too much,” Bakugou whines, his breathless giggling mixed with moans that sound as if they’re being punched out of him, and his body is strung tight, so tight Izuku can feel how close he is to breaking. 

There’s something so incredibly sweet about taking Bakugou completely apart like this. Izuku pants and grinds into his own hand, squeezing and rubbing the head of his cock against the blonde’s, and while black whip continues tormenting Bakugou’s poor feet and underarms, Izuku’s own free hand comes up to grip Bakugou by the chin, forcing him to look at him, eyes blurry through his tears. 

“Tell me how it feels,” he whispers, his lips just a breath away from Bakugou’s, feeling the warm desperate noises coming out of the boy’s mouth. 

Izuku swipes his thumb over the head of Bakugou’s cock, his own arousal forgotten as he slips down to squeeze at the base tightly, preventing the blonde from actually coming. Bakugou makes a guttural, desperate noise, and Izuku’s grip tightens on his face, keeping him there, watching him. 

Izuku’s quirk is nearly everywhere by now, black whip slithering beneath the leggings to stroke behind his knees, a few more tendrils brushing and tickling at his neck, and even more settled beneath his hoodie, prodding and digging and relentless. The fight has completely left Bakugou finally, and he’s slumped against the arm of the couch, body shaking and fighting the plethora of sensations that are overwhelming him. 

“Hey,” Izuku laughs a bit, “Baby, c’mon. Tell me how it feels.”

It almost feels evil, watching as Bakugou tries to speak, to come with something, anything to get Izuku to - what, to stop tickling him? To keep tickling him? To stroke his dick again until he comes all over himself? Bakugou’s brain is mush, and Izuku revels in the desperation painted on the boy’s blushing face. 

“It - fuck, it f-feels like torture,” Bakugou manages to gasp out, but he bucks his hip up when he feels black whip dig into the ticklish dip of his hip. 

“You like being tortured, it seems,” Izuku points out as Bakugou’s cock leaks another bead of precome, so red and hard it’s nearly purple. 

“No - ” Bakugou hiccups on his laughter, eyes widening when Izuku raises a brow,, “I mean - fine, shihihit - yes, yes, I like it, god fucking d-damnit Izuku!”

“Shh,” Izuku soothes, but he doesn’t release his hold at the base of Bakugou’s cock. 

“Please,” Bakugou whines, and Izuku nearly comes when he realizes he has Bakugou exactly where he wants him. 

“Please what?” Izuku releases Bakugou’s chin and his hand slips under the hoodie, pinching right at Bakugou’s top rib, a place Izuku’s learned makes him absolutely lose it. 

“Pl-please let me - ah, ahaha fuhuhuck - please let me c-come!” Bakugou’s crying in earnest now, ducking his head down to press his forehead against the crook of Izuku’s neck, and Izuku’s heart leaps when the blonde bites down on Izuku’s shirt, trying to muffle his noises in the fabric. 

It’s adorable, and Izuku sighs happily. “Of course, Kacchan.”

He grabs ahold of both of their cocks again, this time stroking in earnest, fast and quick. It doesn’t take more than a few pumps of his hand before Bakugou is crying out against Izuku’s neck, writhing beneath him as he comes, and Izuku keeps tickling him through it. The sensation is electric, Bakugou’s body fighting to distinguish between pleasure and torment, and Izuku groans loudly as he uses Bakugou’s come to stroke his own cock. 

“St-stop,” Bakugou giggles, completely breathless, “Too - too f-fucking much - please - ”

Izuku ducks back down to kiss the sweet helpless laughter right out of his mouth, finally coming, his own come mixing with Bakugou’s between them. Izuku heaves a deep breath, slumping against Bakugou as black whip finally retracts, disappearing back into his body and releasing the blonde from their clutches. 

It’s quiet for a moment, Bakugou’s arms having fallen limp at his sides, head still buried in Izuku’s neck as he catches his breath. When he shifts, flexing his legs a little, Izuku leans back, sitting up and brushing Bakugou’s hair back from his sweaty forehead. 

“Holy fuck,” Bakugou manages, blinking leftover tears from his eyes. “You’re fuckin’ evil, you know that?”

Izuku giggles nervously, still riding the high of whatever the hell just happened between them. Bakugou finally lifts his arms, wrapping them around Izuku’s waist loosely, and Izuku’s heart flutters when Bakugou leans up to press a kiss to the corner of Izuku’s mouth. 

“You liked it,” Izuku says, turning to kiss him properly, now able to happily lick into the warmth without Bakugou’s laughter hindering him. 

“Fuck off,” Bakugou murmurs into his mouth. “So what if I did, huh?”

Izuku just hums, because that blurred line being gone means that now he can kiss Bakugou whenever he wants, and that thought has him grinning widely and winding his arms around Bakugou’s neck. 

“Ew, no, don’t get your nasty jizz-hands in my hair!” Bakugou protests, and Izuku laughs out loud, pulling his arms back quickly. 

“Shit - sorry, sorry! We should probably get cleaned up, huh? Your hoodie is covered in come.”

“Good thing it’s not my hoodie, then,” Bakugou smirks. His cheeks are still flushed, and Izuku rolls his eyes as he takes his come-covered hand and smacks it right into Bakugou’s cheek before darting off of him and running away like his life depends on it. 

Bakugou shrieks and scrambles to chase after him, and Izuku’s laughter echoes happily through their apartment.

[ebongawk]

Hi!! HUGE fan of “even the stars (are taking aim)” here (very patiently waiting for the next chapter to drop😌🙏) and figured I may as well try out this prompt thing:

Eddie and Chrissy having their first Big Damn Kiss in a rainstorm, someplace where no one can see them, maybe after some kind of argument so they’re already passionate. I’d love to see what you create from this decently cliched premise😊✨

omg, thank you so much! 🥹 every star in the sky was updated on Tuesday!! and I'm hoping to be back to a semi-regular update schedule. however:

🌧️🌧️

He shouldn't be pissed.

He shouldn't be pissed.

He shouldn't be pissed.

(He was fucking fuming.)

Because it was August. The absolute tail end of the last summer he would ever spend in Hawkins, Indiana if he had fuck all to say about it. Because this was the absolute last goddamn high school-adjacent party he would ever be posted up at as a dealer, selling the bottom of his stash's barrel and high-tailing it the fuck outta here in four days.

Because he'd spent the last eight months falling into a weird, incredible friendship with Chrissy Cunningham and convincing her she was actually fucking worth something more than her mother let her believe, getting her to break up with her shitty boyfriend and start the process of reclaiming her life, only for her to show up at this stupid party on Jason Carver's arm.

She'd dumped him in March. Before spring break. Yet here she was, tucked under his ugly-ass letterman sleeve as she nursed the same red solo cup the entire night, and it made him want to fucking barf.

Eddie rolled his neck. Tucking another cigarette between his lips as he cranked up the prices of his product out of sheer spite. Taking advantage of the hazy stupor and fading into the background.

Chrissy tried to get his attention. More than once. He just ignored her.

What the fuck else was he supposed to do? Watching her intentionally go back to that asshole wasn't really something he'd even thought was a possibility. So why would he have prepared himself for the blow?

He just didn't think it'd hurt so fucking much.

Finally, after about midnight, he was officially sold out. Out of the game entirely. He snapped his box of tricks closed, protecting the crinkled pack of cigarettes from the summer rainstorm he could see pelting the porch screens. He didn't bother bidding anyone goodnight.

The one person he thought would care was too busy flashing the fakest fucking smile she had in her arsenal at that blond jockstrap.

Whatever. Screw it. Who cared? A year from now, he'd be so far removed from all this bullshit that it wouldn't even cross his mind.

(Even if that thought currently made him want to puke up his guts and choke on them.)

Uncaring of who he hit on his way out, Eddie slipped out the front door after smashing into a few angry shoulders. The shouts of indignation at his back may as well have been whispers for how much of them he heard, bowling his way into the warm rain and rushing toward his van.

He always parked hidden away from these events. Ever since Hopper decided to be happy and move to California with Joyce Byers and company, the P.D. had it especially out for Eddie. Giving Callahan a reason to crash a party would have him on way too many shit-lists to count.

Which was normally fine. Except right now. Soaked through by the rain and barely halfway to his stupid fucking sanctuary.

"Eddie!"

Christ.

Her voice still made him stop in his tracks. Shoulders heaving, spine straightening like someone suddenly jammed a rod down it.

Why did it hurt so much?

Turning, he tried to keep his expression as even as possible as he looked at her. Drenched from the stupid water falling from the stupid sky, her hair was already a mess plastered to her skin as she did her best to protect herself from the onslaught.

Too bad Eddie had already been caught in the metaphorical crossfire.

"What, Cunningham?" he asked, giving her obvious pause as she blinked up at him. He'd never been so harsh with her.

He didn't even know why he was being so harsh with her.

(Yes he did.)

"I-I just..." she started, holding an arm over her eyes so she could look up at him. They were standing in the spotlight of a streetlamp, the only thing illuminated in the entire world, and that anger still oozed from him like a bad infection. Festering too close to the surface to remain covered. Like the rain was washing it out, bringing it forward. "You–– You didn't, um, say hi, and you––"

"Okay?" He shrugged. "So, what, I'm legally required to exchange pleasantries with you every time I see you?"

"No, of course not, just––"

"Honestly, kid, I just wanna go home," he said before she could continue. Backing up a step. "Been nice, y'know, being friendly and all, but––" Coming to an immediate halt when one of her dainty little hands darted out and fisted in the wet fabric of his t-shirt.

"Eddie, you're being mean," she stated, her voice hard. Something she learned from him, he knew. Saying things, pointing out when people were being unfair instead of just writing welcome across her forehead and lying down for someone to be shitty to her. "And I–– I know this is about Jason, okay, but you didn't even let me explain––"

"Explain what, Cunningham?" he nearly shouted. "Because, honestly, I cannot for the life of me figure out why you'd willingly find yourself trapped under the weight of that jerk wad's arm."

"Because I need to be!" Chrissy really did shout, shaking her fist in his shirt for emphasis. The other was fisted against her own abdomen. Letting those mascara streaks fall down her cheeks like tear tracks.

Eddie scoffed. "Oh, you need to be? Excuse me, princess, didn't realize you needed him so much!"

"I don't––"

"Could've fucking fooled me, honestly!"

"I don't need him, Eddie! I just need to play her game for three more days and then––"

But she didn't finish her thought.

Instead, before he could even process what was happening, she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and surged up onto her toes, pressing her lips clumsily against his.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

Eddie didn't think. Didn't fucking breathe. He just groaned, cupping her jaw in his hands and kissing her like his fucking life depended on it.

She tasted like rainwater and watermelon lipgloss and the fucking sunrise breaking past the clouds, basking him in her light and warming him against the rain. They moved together, a dance of lips and tongue, her little mewl of pleasure rolling down his spine as he greedily drank in every piece of her she was allowing him.

Shit. Shit. This was gonna hurt, wasn't it?

They fell apart, both of them pulling in air like they'd forgotten they had lungs, and Eddie let his forehead drop against hers. Holding her for however long he was allowed, how ever long she gave him.

"I don't need him," she whispered again, her voice near enough that it was like he could finally hear her. "I'm not even with him. It's just... It's just until I get my college fund, and then..."

"Does he know that?" Eddie asked, hating the vehemence in his own tone.

"Yes, Eddie," she assured him. "He's not as bad of a guy as you want to believe, you know." Her hands came up, wrapping around his wrists as she looked up at him. Blinking into the rain, she gave him a real, actual smile. One of those little ones he kinda hoped was reserved just for him. "He knows how I..."

She shook her head, then blew his fucking mind when she pushed up enough to kiss him again.

"I need you," she informed him. And Eddie could see her opening the little doorway into his chest and reaching in to pull his heart out. Though whether she was doing that now or eight fucking months ago was impossible to say. "I want you and I need you."

Oh, he was gonna explode. Poof into a million little bits, covering her in heart-shaped blood and viscera.

"Only if you need me, too, though," she finished when his fucking voice box wouldn't work.

He kissed her again. An emphasis to a point he couldn't verbally make. And she melted against him like it was everything she needed, everything she'd been craving alongside him for the last eight months.

"Christ, sweetness, I think I'm already in love with you," he laughed, the sound wet around the rain still falling around them.

"Oh," she breathed, looking up at him, her eyes so fucking bright in that subtle streetlamp light that he wanted to claw his way out of his own skin and use it as an umbrella for her. "Oh, that's good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Because, um, I was hoping you'd have room for two in that van of yours come Wednesday." She grinned. "Should have all my stuff sorted out by then."

Eddie laughed again, bright and loud, letting the rain wash away all that gross upset so he could lift her by the waist and spin her around. She screamed in delight, arms around his shoulders, and he stopped and held her steadily above him so she could bring her lips down to his once more.

"I've got all the room in the fucking world for you, baby."