#So excited for you to see the full piece!!

[mickyschumacher]

[BREAKFAST IN BED!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: the racing season is finally over and lando is more than excited to have you all to himself. or in which lando prefers his breakfast in bed with you as the main course.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), breastplay, grinding(?), teasing, oral sex/eating out/cunnilingus, fingering, pure moments of fluff because bf!lando is the sweetest, discussion of lando mentally struggling at the start

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!lando norris x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2k+

𝐀/𝐍: i promised a post before the end of the year and it happens to coincide with a holiday of giving ;) merry christmas and happy hanukkah to those who celebrate it! and happy new year! // as usual poorly proof-read ♡︎ (sorry if it's shitty, i haven't written a full-piece in a while)

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

The season was over. Finally.

Not to be offensive or anything but you had been waiting for this moment for what, this year, felt like forever.

Yes, it was action packed–largely due to the fact that a certain RedBull wasn't winning every race. Yes, McLaren had whipped up the fastest car on the grid to shake things up. And yes, the same team had clinched their ninth World Constructor's Championship.

And while that made you absolutely over the moon, all you had wanted was for some peace and quiet on a random Wednesday morning so you could (maybe creepily) ogle your handsome boyfriend.

Was that too much to ask for?

It had been a tough season for Lando and naturally, as you promised from the very start of your friendship alone–that you would stick by his side no matter what–you had also been through the thick of it.

Convincing Lando to not look at the comments after every session or race had been difficult. You tried your best to remove any negativity that clouded his mind. Some days it worked and some days it didn't.

But that was life. And that was then.

Now you were wide awake at some odd time in the morning, laying comfortably on your stomach with your head turned towards Lando. There was about one degree of separation between the both of you, allowing you to carefully observe him.

Lando was never an early bird. If he was, it would be by some miracle or your upper arm strength pulling him from the sheets. A small smile crept onto your face. You had been friends for years now and together for even shorter. Yet you still couldn't believe that the sleepy bird next to you was yours entirely.

His dark tousled and recently cut curls, the stress lines on his forehead you were always aching to smooth out and comfort with the pad of your thumb, his "perfectly normal sized ears" that you definitely never made fun of, his lovely lashes you were jealous of, and the soft pink lips you couldn't decide whether to touch or kiss.... all yours.

Behind all the stupidity, humour, and claimed 'indifference' Lando sported on camera and with others, you always knew his heart. It was open for everyone and had more than enough love to go around. You were in love with the biggest sap you had ever known.

And on top of all of that, he made it out of that car to you... alive... every goddamn time.

You were luckier than you could ever imagine.

"How long are you going to stare at me, love?" Lando's voice queried, thick with the rasp of the morning and the events of last night.

You slightly widened your eyes, watching him open those beautiful baby blues and land on you. An flustered flush of heat wavered up your skin. You bit your lip before slipping beneath the covers, feeling the warmth envelope your skin entirely. You started with a muttered curse.

"How long have you even been awake, Lan? That's so embarrassing," you chided with a muffled tone.

Unbeknownst to you, Lando couldn't help but grin at your sudden shy demeanour. It was hard for anyone to imagine you as shy but he had seen every side of you. How enjoyable it was that even after all these years, he could tease you and see how flustered you could get. If he had met you when you were kids, this is exactly how he imagined you'd be.

He stretched out his taut arm, grabbing you by the waist. His skin swarmed with heat as he felt your bare waist under your shirt as he pulled you over him. He moved your knees so you straddled him.

He pressed his lips to prevent a full blown smile at what he was seeing.

Your hair was fully covering your face, head down and hands hovering over to hide the tinges of pink and red on your skin.

"Baby... come on, love. Show me your face," Lando encouraged, nudging your hair lightly with the side of his finger. "Come on, baby."

You groaned, lifting your head, feeling all your tresses go back. You blankly stared at your boyfriend with burning cheeks. "I hate you," you mumbled, giving him a small glare.

Lando snorted, putting his hands firmly on your waist. His fingers edged up behind the hem of your shirt, rubbing small circles into your bare skin. "You love me. Someone who hates me wouldn't stare at me so lovingly."

"I–" You tried to open your mouth to retaliate but to no avail as you quickly came to the realisation that he was indeed correct. As Lando usually was with these things.

"Fine. You got me," you sighed admittedly, "I just missed waking up next to you in the morning. Is that such a horrible crime?" You dramatically asked, tease heavy in your voice.

In any other situation, Lando would've narrowed his eyes at your teasing but all he could do was gaze softly at you. You weren't able to travel with him all the time and he wasn't able to spend every day with you. You both knew that. And while it sucked, you had both gotten used to it, cherishing when you were together.

But this year... Lando had spent every living second wishing you were next to him. He wanted you to tell him your god awful jokes. To look at him from across the room and take his entire breath, mind, whatever, away. To drop the fake smiles and rest in your arms with all the time in the world.

"No," Lando whispered, warm eyes travelling over your face, trying to find anything new to memorise. Anything he had missed since seeing you. "That isn't a crime. If it was, I'd be guilty as charged."

Your breath hitched while a small shiver trickled down your body as Lando pushed back a lock of hair behind your ear. You chewed down on your lip before breaking into a smile gently. "I love you, Lando Norris. Forever," you murmured, placing a brief kiss onto his lips.

Lando stared at you hard, far more awake than he had ever been. He lifted his head slowly, holding you close to him. And without a second thought, he brought his lips to yours.

This kiss was different from the others you had shared. Perhaps it was the atmosphere or context that accounted for that different but the need, the love, the softness and the brutal passion was poured into every fibre of your being

Your hands curled around the back of his neck, pulling him tighter while your nose glided against his as Lando only just begun ravaging your mouth. He sucked on your lips with a small nibble here and there, relishing the muffled moans passing your lips.

His own hands continued to travel the path of your body he had committed to memory. He knew as he traversed your heated back exactly where the dark freckles he had come to love were.

Your soft moans became more audible and pleasing to Lando's ears as he curled his lips to your neck, leaving the sloppily yet controlled path of possessive kisses down base of your skin. He could feel your pulse against his skin and God, he wanted to burn it into his brain and save it.

"Lando," you gasped as you felt a sudden jerk underneath you, feeding into the pooling wetness between your thighs. Your teeth sunk into your pillowy bottom lip, your hips automatically responded by grinding down onto Lando's bulge.

"Ah, fuck," Lando cursed, feeling his cock throb in his underwear. His eyes fluttered shut, hands immediately returning to your hips to continue the stimulating pleasure.

You were driving him crazy.

Both of your skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you felt Lando's clothed cock rut into your poorly covered pussy. You rocked your hips harder into him, feeling a slight jolt against your clit. "Oh, fuck, Lando," you moaned his name in his ear, fingers curling into his skin.

Lando opened his eyes, drawing back to capture your face. Your dazed eyes, glowing skin, panting lips, the way your hips bowed towards him... he had missed you. So. Fucking. Much.

"I want breakfast," Lando blurted with a slight gasp as the pleasure rocked through his body.

You stopped moving your hips, body shuddering from the halt. You raised a brow at the sudden desire but shrugged it off considering you were way past breakfast hours and you were only human. "Okay," you responded, about to move off of Lando to head to the kitchen.

Lando reached over, hand pulling your body back towards him, rolling your body so he hovered over you between your legs. "Where are you going?" he tutted, "Breakfast is right here."

You seemed to lose the ability to speak with Lando's hand kneading the flesh of your thighs, implying exactly what he wanted. You breathlessly watched his head move over your body. His tongue lapped at your skin, travelling to any bare patch he could find as though he wanted to feast on you. His warmth made your core tingle as you arched into his touch.

You were positively going to lose your mind.

His hands slid under your shirt, burning your skin until he could fill his palms with your breasts. "Oh baby," Lando moaned, fingers teasing your soft mounds. "I love your tits so fucking much."

A choked cry broke through your lips upon hearing his confession, fingers brushing against your hardened nipple almost painfully slowly. No matter how many times he said it, it set you alight.

"Lando," you moaned loudly, hoping he could read and hear the sound that beckoned him towards your aching core.

He paused, allowing you to take in the heavenly sight of Lando's bare chest, decorated only by the necklace you had gotten him on his birthday last year. In turn, his gaze was only focused on your core.

You tested your lung capacity, taking in a sharp inhale as he pressed his knuckles against your panties, purposely pushing harder against on the ball of your clit. You faltered at the smile sprawling on his face, your hips jolting forward and mouth unable to contain a desperate yelp.

Lando was every inch as desperate as you were, taking no time to waste. His fingers hooked onto your panties and removed them in one swift motion, leaving you bare from the waist down.

Your stomach churned at the sight of Lando nestling his head into your inner thigh, his once light blue eyes now dark and heavy with desire as he inhaled the scent of you. The moan escaping his lips made you shiver.

You were sure you were dripping. You could feel the slick trail down your pussy, glistening in a patient wait to be touched just like you were.

Your eyes fell back to Lando who groaned your name. "I promise to God, I'm going to make you cum so hard that breakfast in bed will be the only option you have," he stated so surely against your skin as his fingers slid from the seam of your entrance to your clit, bundling all your wetness onto his hand.

Oh god.

"Lando, please," you begged shamelessly, legs aching to clench together to relieve the pain of being untouched.

Your legs trembled around Lando's head, his hot breath nearing your pussy while his mouth drew closer. You watched him take you in for the last time before his lips firmly sealed over your aching clit.

The burst of pleasure cut through your body so sharply. Your cry of joy echoed in the late morning, hips bucking against his mouth.

Lando's hands travelled to the outside of your thighs, grasp tightening to keep them spread open on his shoulders. "Keep them open, baby," he ground out.

It took everything in your power to keep your legs from collapsing, particularly as he made his point with another hard to suck to your clit, but you body seemed to follow his command. His mouth returned your wet folds, tongue swirling around every crevice before coming back to the most sensitive part of you, turning you into absolute mush.

Your hands had found their way to those mop of curls you cherished so much, legs trying to conform around Lando's shoulder to welcome any better angle of pleasure.

Your gasp at the sudden dismissal of his mouth was short lived, any chance to complain gone as his fingers pushed into your slick folds, stretching your clenching muscles out.

"Fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me, baby. I need you ready for me," Lando encouraged breathlessly as something feral inside of him emerged.

His fingers stroked your swollen walls from the inside, ensuring you felt every inch of them along the sensitive front wall of your pussy while his tongue glazed over every puffy slick fold like you were golden honey.

Lando watched in torture as he pushed his fingers in and out of your walls, your body jerking forward at the sheer pleasure. "That's it, baby," he continued to praise you.

"Doing so well for me, hmm?" He asked, a gleam of your wetness coating his lips. Moving his free hand down your thigh, he gathered your flesh in his fingers before reaching the small bundle of nerves, thumb going in small firm circles.

You were beginning to feel numb. A cold yet hot tightness coiling within your core, waiting to be unleashed. "Lando," you gasped, struggling to keep your head up, "fuck, I–I think I'm going to cum."

"Yes, baby," Lando coaxed, fingers speeding up with every action they had entailed, "Cum for me, please. Keep your eyes open. Look at me, love."

You fought the urge to squeeze your eyes shut, forcing your eyes to travel to those familiar baby blues. All the trillion nerves in your body felt like entangled knots tied by Lando's tongue while his fingers found the sweetest spot of your pussy and held to you that pinnacle.

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip while Lando held your gaze, tongue sliding, curving up, and pushing in and out of every crevice. Your pussy finally succumbed to the hard pressure, clenching muscles squeezing hard at the sharp pinch of pain.

The pain was explosive, searing, and all-consuming.

You cried.

You cried so loudly you were sure your neighbours would be complaining any minute now.

It didn't matter. Not when the pleasure shooting through you was disproportionately and literally blowing you out of this world as though it had been seated and waiting to be released since the dawn of time itself. Your hips bucked and stuttered while you squirmed and writhed against the bed, the fabric of your shirt sticking to your sweaty skin.

Lando's mouth had never left you through your orgasm, tongue still deep in your folds, savouring all the convulses, shudders, and clenches of your body.

Even better yet, he had watched every second of you falling apart.

And it absolutely drove him crazy.

Lando's hand rushed to catch your falling body, holding you up as a small wave of exhaustion crashed into you. You stared at Lando shiftless, still seeing the faint image of floating stars across his face.

Oh my god.

Lando had broken you with his tongue.

You watched Lando lick his fingers clean as you slowly removed your legs from his shoulders. You lifted your head, pressing a long kiss onto his lips.

Lando grinned, cradling his arms around your body as he pushed you both into the bed yet again. He pushed back your slightly greased hair, caressing your cheek gently. "You okay?"

His query made you feel soft all over. You smiled into his hands and nodded. "Perfect," you chirped, hands hanging over his neck.

"So... breakfast in bed?" Lando offered knowingly as he massaged your thighs gently. You were not walking to that kitchen.

You furrowed your brows. "What about my breakfast?"

Lando wanted to question you but as his eyes followed your gaze, the answer became as clear as the aching bulge underneath his boxers.

"Oh."

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[yourlocaljonghoe]

Familiar Stranger. || Kim Hongjoong.

Summary: you and hongjoong have known each other for over 20 years now. growing up side by side, graduating, marrying and having your own family was tough, but kim hongjoong had always been a constant in your life. now, in your late 30s, you suddenly find yourself divorced, and hongjoong’s wife just left him as well. your children are devastated, and for the sake of keeping them occupied, you try to urge them to spend much time with each other on a holiday trip. but what happens if things change? what happens if suddenly, you develop feelings for a man you considered nothing but a friend your whole life?

Pairing: kim hongjoong x reader

Genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, angst if you squint, smut (mdni)

Wordcount: 24.2k

Warnings: both reader and hj are in their late 30s, minseo & yena are around 14 and hanbin around 9, chubby!reader (though it isnt really mentioned until the smut part) mentions of emotional partner abuse and cheating, child neglect (kinda?) body insecurities, body worship, fingering, sex toys, use of pet names, oral (m. & f. receiving) if I missed smth pls lmk!

A/N: i am not happy with this fic (i even cried a little tbh i spent so much time on it and unfortunately just really really dislike it now) and towards the end, it gets pretty rushed and i want to apologize for that, i just got really frustrated. its also not proof read which will probably be very visible rip. now onto the important part tho: hello @owlbeforesunset, i was your secret santa for @cromernet! i really hope you like this even if its super messy sksksksk and im wishing you the best christmas ever!! may you and your loved ones be happy and healthy forever <33 as always divider credits to @firefly-graphics! Edit: since im dumb i forgot to add the playlist i made specifically for this fic. its the first time i made smth like this so i hope you all enjoy <33

Taglist: @ghstzzn, @kyukyustar, @hwapetals, @foxinnie8, @preciouswoozi, @aussiekpopginger, @kitten4sannie, @hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf

Available here on AO3.

April, 2003.

Heavy rain pelted against the windows. It was loud and distracting, but you tried your best to focus on the task at hand: getting dressed in your sexiest outfit ever.

God, how excited you were. Your first ever party!

You grabbed the black tank top from the pile on your bed, biting your lip as you held it up. It was cropped, barely grazing your waist, and you'd never actually worn it out. But tonight was different. You wanted to stand out, feel a little bolder today. You slipped it over your head, adjusting the straps until it sat just right, revealing just enough to feel sexy but still comfortable.

Next, you reached for your favorite skirt - a dark denim piece that you usually reserved for special occasions. It hit mid-thigh, shorter than anything you usually wore. You turned left and right in front of the mirror, checking the whole look with a grin, feeling that sweet buzz of excitement stir within you.

Today, you were feeling rebellious, and you thanked the heavens that your parents weren't home to see that side of you.

After a quick swipe of lip gloss and a final tousle of your hair, you stepped back to take in the full outfit. This was new, a little edgy, but it was exactly how you wanted to show up tonight.

And then, you heard a car honk outside.

Three times, to be exact. 

It told you that Hongjoong had arrived to pick you up.

You grabbed your coat and dashed outside, leaping from the front porch to avoid the small puddles pooling on the driveway. The cold rain splattered down, but it did nothing to cool down the rush of excitement as you ran towards Hongjoong's car.

As soon as you reached it, he leaned over to unlock the door, his eyes widening as he noticed you through the rain. You quickly pulled the door open and slid into the passenger seat, the warm interior pulling a happy sigh from your lips. Without thinking, you then stood up halfway in the seat, turning to give him a full view of your outfit. You did a quick spin, showing off the crop top and skirt, a big, proud smile practically glued to your face.

“Well?” You laughed, tilting your head at him.

He blinked, visibly taken aback, and then grinned in that lopsided, mischievous way of his. “Damn, look at you!” he said, dragging his gaze over you with obvious approval in his eyes. “That’s exactly the look. You look perfect! He will definitely notice you now!”

“And she will definitely notice you too!”

She was the girl who had captured his attention since the first day of school. And as much as you wanted to tease him about that hopeless crush of his, you found yourself rooting for him. He really liked her, and it was kind of cute to see your best friend so head over heels in love. “You’re going to knock her off her feet, Hongjoong. Look at you!”

Kim Hongjoong looked as stunning and unique as always. Tonight, he'd gone for an avant-garde vibe, somehow mixing and layering pieces that should've clashed but just… worked. He wore a dark, oversized blazer with bold white stitching tracing down its seams, a design you knew he’d likely stitched himself. Underneath, he wore a fitted, high-neck black shirt that hugged his frame, and chains draped across his chest in varying lengths. The pants he wore were his own design as well - fitted and flared at the bottom, with artful rips along the thighs revealing hints of his skinny, toned legs beneath. He’d accessorized with rings on nearly every finger, a thick cuff around his wrist, and one of his trademark berets, tilted slightly to the side.

And then, his favorite touch: eyeliner, just enough to make his eyes dark and intense, while still looking like the nice and approachable boy you knew him as.

All in all: your best friend looked as stunning as always.

You couldn’t help but feel a little flutter in your stomach as you caught his gaze lingering on you as well. Outside, the rain was steady, streaking the windows as the car drove through the streets.

“So, what’s your plan tonight?” he asked. “Besides making him notice you, of course.”

“Maybe dance. Maybe get him in my bed,” you said with a smirk, earning an exaggerated grimace from Hongjoong.

“Ugh. Spare me the details.”

You both laughed, and you elbowed him playfully as he drove through the streets.

The drive stretched on, the rain creating a soothing pitter-patter against the windows. The streetlights you passed were illuminating Hongjoong’s sharp features perfectly as you looked at him. You couldn’t help but watch him for a moment, appreciating the pretty man your best friend had become over the years.

“Well,” you said, breaking the silence, “what about you? Big plans tonight?”

“Maybe,” he admitted, his lips twitching into a soft smile. “You know, if she shows up.”

“Oh, she’ll be there,” you teased, poking his arm. “She's at every party. Plus you’ve been talking about her all week. She’d be insane not to notice you tonight.”

He glanced at you briefly, his smile turning a bit shy. “I hope so. But hey, even if she doesn’t… tonight’s about having fun. About us, okay? Let's just try and have a good time anyways.”

“Agreed,” you said, leaning back in your seat. “Let’s make this the best night ever.”

He nodded, his grin widening. “Deal.”

He pulled up to the venue after another few minutes. As you both stepped out into the rain, the cold droplets hit your heated skin as you raced to the entrance, and you laughed as you arrived first. 

Once you opened the heavy door together, the atmosphere inside immediately enveloped fully. The sound of music echoed through the air, and the whole crowd pulsed with energy. You spotted familiar faces, friends and acquaintances already dancing and chatting, and your heart raced with excitement. This was it.

“Okay,” Hongjoong said, leaning in closer so you could hear him over the music. “Let’s try not to get separated. Want a drink?”

“Sure,” you replied. You could barely hear your own voice over the thumping bass of the music. You tugged at his sleeve to pull him toward the makeshift bar set up in the corner of the room. A string of colorful lights hung over your heads, casting shifting hues of red and blue across the room and its people. The whole place smelled of sweat, too much perfume, and a faint trace of spilled beer and vomit.

Hongjoong weaved through the crowd effortlessly, his small frame slipping between clusters of people like a ghost. You followed closely, clutching your purse harder to avoid hitting any strangers.

When you finally reached the bar, Hongjoong leaned in close to your ear again. “What’s your poison of choice tonight? Beer? Something stronger?”

You pretended to think about it for a moment, tapping your chin theatrically. “Surprise me,” you said, flashing him a grin.

His brows arched playfully, and he turned to flag down the guy working the bar - a classmate you vaguely recognized but didn’t know well. After a brief exchange, Hongjoong handed you a plastic cup filled with something neon pink and fizzy.

“Taste test,” he prompted, watching your reaction closely as you took a cautious sip.

The drink was sweet, with just enough of a bite to remind you it was still alcoholic. You licked your lips, nodding in approval. “Not bad. What is it?”

He smirked. “No idea. Just told him to make it fun.”

You laughed, raising the cup in a mock toast. “To fun, then.”

“To fun,” he echoed, clinking his own drink against yours before taking a big sip.

The two of you leaned back against the bar, scanning the room and taking it all in. It was packed, the dance floor a mass of sweaty bodies against bodies illuminated by the cheap neon light. You spotted a few more familiar faces but didn’t immediately see the person you were hoping to impress tonight.

“See him yet?” Hongjoong asked, his gaze flicking toward you.

You shook your head, feeling slightly disappointed. “Not yet. You?”

He scanned the room again, his eyes lingering near a group of girls huddled together by the DJ booth. When he looked back at you, his grin was wide and genuine. “She’s here.”

Your brows shot up. “Where?”

He gestured subtly with his chin, and you followed his gaze. Sure enough, there she was - wearing a sleek black dress that clung to her in all the right ways, her head thrown back in laughter as she chatted with her friends.

“She looks amazing,” you said honestly, nudging him. “Go talk to her.”

Hongjoong hesitated, biting his lip. “Not yet. Need a little more liquid courage first.”

You rolled your eyes, taking another sip of your drink. “Fine, but don’t chicken out, okay? Tonight’s your night.”

“And yours,” he reminded you, bumping your shoulder lightly.

“Damn right,” you said, your confidence starting to show by the alcohol starting to settle warmly in your veins.

The music shifted then. Instead of the slow song that played when you two got here, it now switched to a faster pop-song that made the room errupt in cheers. Hongjoong turned to you, his eyes sparkling.

“Dance floor?” he asked.

“Hell yes,” you replied without hesitation, grabbing his hand and leading him toward the mass of people.

The moment you stepped onto the dance floor, the music seemed to consume you entirely. You let yourself sway to the beat, your earlier nerves melting away completely. Hongjoong danced beside you, his movements fluid as always. At least one of you could dance. Unfortunately, it definitely wasn't you.

At some point, you caught sight of him watching you. He stood near the edge of the crowd, a solo cup in one hand, his eyes fixed squarely on you.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Joong,” you hissed, tugging on his sleeve. “He’s looking at me!”

Hongjoong followed your gaze, a grin splitting across his face. “Told you he wouldn’t be able to resist. Go say hi!”

“I can’t just walk up to him,” you said, your voice a little panicked.

“Yes, you can. Trust me, you look amazing. He’s already hooked.”

You hesitated, your feet rooted in place despite the music urging you to move.

Hongjoong gave you a gentle shove in his direction. “Go! I’ll be here if you need a rescue mission.”

Shooting your best friend one last look, you smoothed down your skirt, drew in a steadying breath, and walked toward him, heart pounding with each step. His dark eyes locked onto yours almost immediately, a lazy smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he tipped his cup slightly in acknowledgment.

“Hey,” you greeted, trying to sound casual despite the adrenaline rushing through you.

“Hey yourself,” he replied smoothly. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

His name was Jang Hyunwoo, a senior just a year above you and Hongjoong. Known for his devastating good looks, he was every girl's dream and you were not immune to him. At all. In fact, the first time you saw him, it felt like the world narrowed to just… him. 

You still remembered it. 

He was leaning against the chain-link fence outside school, cigarette hanging loosely from his fingers, dark eyes unreadable beneath heavy lashes. He’d glanced up, meeting your gaze with a look so piercing it made your heart skip a beat or two.

“Got a light?” he’d asked, voice low and lazy.

You didn’t even smoke, but you found yourself fumbling for a lighter borrowed from a friend. His fingers brushed yours as he took it, lingering just long enough to make your pulse quicken.

From that moment, you were hooked. He was magnetic in a way that felt dangerous - intense and so, so unreachable. But when he looked at you like that, like you were the only thing that mattered… it was impossible not to fall. 

From that day on, Jung Hyunwoo became your addiction. 

And right now, his tall frame leaned against the wall with an effortless confidence, a single silver chain glinting against the black of his fitted shirt. He radiated that dangerous allure you just couldn’t seem to resist.

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Thought I’d check it out.”

His eyes traced over you slowly, appreciatively. “You definitely made the right call.”

Your cheeks heated, but before you could respond, you noticed someone approaching Hongjoong out of the corner of your eye. She practically slithered up to him, wrapping an arm possessively around his waist.

Kang Minji.

She was stunning, really, with long, glossy hair and an effortless sense of style that made her look straight out of a magazine. But there was something else you noticed about here. Something in the sharpness of her gaze, the way her perfectly manicured nails dug into Hongjoong’s side just a little too firmly, sent a chill down your spine. And you did not even understand why.

“Joongie,” she cooed, tilting her head in mock surprise. “Didn’t think you’d make it tonight.”

Hongjoong’s smile faltered for the briefest moment before he recovered, offering her a charming, yet shy grin. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

You watched as Minji’s eyes flicked to you, quickly looking you up and down, before returning to Hongjoong as though you weren’t even there. Something about the possessiveness in her expression made you immediately feel uneasy.

You thought about saying something to Hongjoong, about warning him - there was something weird about her, about the way her smile never quite reached her eyes when she looked at him. But just as quickly as the thought surfaced, you shoved it down. After all, your own situation wasn’t exactly better, was it?

Hyunwoo’s fingers pressed firmly into your waist, his touch feeling equal parts thrilling and dangerous. His gaze held yours with that familiar intensity, sharp and consuming, leaving no room for second-guessing.

Who were you to judge Hongjoong when you were just as caught up in someone toxic you couldn’t seem to quit?

So, you said nothing. You let the thought dissolve, swallowed by the pounding bass and the heat of Hyunwoo’s hand still holding you close.

“So, you two know each other?” Hyunwoo’s voice drew your attention back to him.

“Yeah, Joong’s my best friend,” you explained, smiling despite the tension forming between you four. “We came together.”

Hyunwoo’s smirk widened, and his grip around you tightened. “Interesting.”

Before you could decipher his meaning, Minji’s laugh rang out, sharp and so… wrong. “Best friend, huh? That’s cute.”

Her words felt like a subtle warning, though you couldn’t quite place why. Hongjoong’s expression shifted, discomfort flashing in his dark eyes, but he said nothing.

“Dance with me,” Hyunwoo suggested, pulling your focus back. His gaze was intense, daring you to say no.

You hesitated for half a second before nodding. “Okay.”

The music was so loud as Hyunwoo pulled you onto the dance floor. His grip on your waist was firm, guiding you effortlessly through all the sweaty bodies. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his intense gaze never leaving yours as the world blurred into a haze of flashing lights and unrecognizable sounds.

He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You okay?” he asked, voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

You nodded, breath hitching as his fingers traced slow, deliberate circles against your waist. His touch burned through the thin fabric of your shirt, making your skin tingle with anticipation. He smelled like spice and something else equally addictive - the perfect blend of danger and temptation.

Before you could process what was happening, his lips crashed against yours, hard and demanding. His hand tangled in your hair while the other stayed on your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. You gasped into the kiss, overwhelmed but unable to stop yourself from further melting into him.

The intensity of it all left you breathless. He dominated you so effortlessly, pressing hard into every movement, every touch. You barely registered the crowd around you anymore, the dance floor fading into the background as you clung to him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. His lips were warm and insistent, tasting faintly of the drink he’d been having earlier.

For a quick second, a flicker of anxiety flooded your chest, but before you could pull away, your gaze drifted past Hyunwoo’s shoulder - and froze.

There, against the far wall, you saw Hongjoong. His back was pressed against the worn brick, his hands tangled possessively in Minji’s hair as she kissed him hard and without any mercy. Her body was pressed against his, leaving no room for air between them. His eyes were closed, completely lost in the heat of the moment.

Something inside you twisted sharply, equal parts jealousy and defiance. If Hongjoong could do it, lose himself like that… why couldn’t you?

Your fingers tightened around Hyunwoo’s shirt as you surged forward in a sudden boost of confidence, matching his intensity with a newfound determination that even surprised yourself. If this was how the night was going to go, then you wouldn’t hold back. Not anymore.

Hyunwoo groaned against your lips, clearly pleased by your sudden boldness. His hands roamed freely now, sliding down your back to grip your hips, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the hard press of his body against yours, his need unmistakable and intoxicating.

Your nails raked down his chest, earning a hiss of approval from him as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that made your knees tremble. His control was absolute, his touch possessive, as though staking a claim that he had no intention of releasing.

And for now, you let him. You surrendered to it all, the reckless, thrilling haze, pushing down every lingering thought of Hongjoong and Minji. Tonight, you’d let yourself go - consequences be damned.

“Wanna go upstairs?”

“H-huh?”

You didn’t even notice you had moved, too consumed by his mouth and hands everywhere, but as you opened your eyes again, he was standing at the bottom of a dimly lit staircase, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous, something you couldn’t quite name. “Come on,” he coaxed, voice low and hoarse. “It’s too loud out here.”

The way he said it sounded reasonable, almost thoughtful - because he was right, it was way, way too loud in here - but the way his hand lingered on your waist told a different story. His touch was too sure, too expectant as if a no from you wasn't even a question. 

Your gaze darted around the room, searching for any sign of Hongjoong. He’d always been your anchor in situations like this - your safe space. But he was nowhere in sight. Your stomach twisted as you recalled the way Minji had pulled him into the shadows, her grip just as firm as Hyunwoo’s was now.

He’s fine, you told yourself. He wanted this. He chose this.

So why did you suddenly feel so… alone?

“I- maybe we should stay down here,” you suggested hesitantly, voice trembling despite your attempt to sound casual. “We could… get another drink?”

Hyunwoo’s expression darkened ever so slightly, a flicker of irritation flashing through his gaze before he smoothed it over with a practiced smile. “You nervous?” he asked, stepping closer until your back pressed against the wall. His voice was soft now, almost tender. “I’m not gonna hurt you, baby.”

The pet name sent an involuntary shiver down your spine - not from endearment, but from the way it felt like a trap snapping shut around you. And you, like the prey you were, stepped right into it.

His fingers brushed along your jaw, tilting your face up so you couldn’t look away. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Did you? You weren’t sure anymore.

His thumb traced slow circles against your cheek, deceptively gentle. “We’ve been dancing around this for months… You know you want this too.”

You swallowed hard, your pulse thrumming wildly beneath his touch. He was too close, his presence overwhelming, suffocating - but intoxicating in the worst way. Every instinct told you to push him away, to leave - but then you thought about Hongjoong, likely wrapped up in Minji somewhere upstairs, completely consumed by her.

Hyunwoo’s lips brushed against your temple, his breath warm against your skin. “Just you and me,” he whispered, his voice a dangerous promise. “No one else matters tonight.”

And then, you finally gave in. He quickly grabbed you and searched for an empty room upstairs, and as the door clicked shut behind you, sealing you inside the dim, quiet room, you couldn’t shake the haunting certainty that neither you nor Hongjoong would leave this night the same - both now bound to people who would ruin you in ways you were only beginning to understand years later.

August, 2024.

It was late when your shift finally ended.

You walked into the house, the door giving squeaking like always as you stepped inside. Silence was all you were greeted with when you closed the front door behind you. You kicked off your shoes by the door and set your bag down on the counter, your gaze lingering on the empty kitchen. It had been a while since you truly noticed the quiet - or since you were involuntarily forced to.

It was late, and you were tired; it was the kind of exhaustion that seeped into your bones after a long day of work, and the weight of your thoughts felt even heavier now that you were home.

You hadn’t expected to feel this way even after the divorce, but the ache was still there, lingering. For the longest time, you'd convinced yourself it was all manageable - that it would get better, that you could make it work.

But now, standing in the middle of the house that once held the warmth and laughter of a family, you couldn’t deny the truth any longer.

Your marriage to Hyunwoo had been tiring and oh so toxic, and it all actually started the day you two had met. It was easy to look back now and see the signs - the subtle ways he began to change over the years, the evergrowing distance between you two. He’d started out so passionate about you and your whole relationship. But after the children came, or maybe even before, things shifted. His kindness faded into passive aggression, and then to blatant cruelty in the smallest, quietest ways.

At first, you tried to convince yourself it wasn’t that bad. After all, there were still moments that felt like the old him - the laughter over dinner, the rare but sweet gestures. But those moments became fewer and fewer, and the weight of his silence began to feel heavier than anything else.

You had learned to shut down, to bite your tongue, to keep the peace - all for the sake of your children. You didn’t want them to see the cracks. You didn’t want them to know that the man you married, the man they adored, was also the one who’d made you feel small, insignificant, and alone in your own home.

You’d stayed for them - for Minseo and Hanbin - hoping, wishing, that somehow you could protect them from it all.

It had been easier to stay. Easier to pretend that things were fine. But somewhere along the way, you stopped lying to yourself. The emotional abuse had become too much to ignore.

You had loved him once. So deeply that the idea of leaving him seemed impossible, even when your soul and entire being felt suffocated by his cruelty. But one day, you woke up to the reality that you couldn’t keep living like that - not for yourself, not for your children.

The divorce had been your only choice, even if it felt like it would destroy everything you had built.

You closed your eyes for a moment, leaning against the counter, remembering those last weeks of you and Hyunwoo together - how every conversation felt like a battle, how every attempt at talking about it was met with denial, with anger.

And now, here you were. No more pretending. No more covering up. You had taken that step, for yourself and for your children, even if they couldn’t understand it yet.

A sigh escaped you as you shook your head, trying to push the thoughts away. You had a family to focus on, children who needed you.

But sometimes, even now, the silence of this house felt like a heavy reminder of everything you had lost - and everything you still had to rebuild very slowly and carefully.

“Where have you been?” 

You stood in the doorway, the exhaustion from the long shift still weighing you down as you noticed Minseo’s presence in the living room. Her face was half-lit by the soft glow of her phone screen. She didn’t even look up when you entered.

“Hey, sorry sweetie,” you said, trying to sound as normal as possible, trying to hide how tired you were. “A coworker got sick, and I had to take over her shift.”

Minseo didn’t respond immediately, her eyes glued to the phone, her thumb scrolling lazily across the screen. The silence between you stretched out uncomfortably.

You waited, half-expecting some kind of acknowledgment, but she remained absorbed in her own world. The way she looked at you - or rather, didn’t look at you - felt like a sharp reminder of how far apart the two of you were drifting.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, not sure what to do. Normally, she would’ve greeted you with at least a half-hearted "Hi" or some sort of remark, but today, there was nothing. Just the quiet thrum of the phone as she typed.

You forced a smile, trying to bridge the gap. “How was your day?”

Nothing. Minseo didn’t even acknowledge you. Her eyes stayed on her phone, lips pressed into a thin line. The absence of the usual warmth in her voice made the silence so much louder, and it hit you harder than anything else. She wasn’t just quiet tonight. She was actively shutting you out.

You cleared your throat softly, trying again. “Did you have dinner yet?”

“Mm-hmm,” Minseo murmured, not bothering to look up. Her response was clipped, as though she was only offering the bare minimum of interaction required. You could feel the coldness seeping into the space between you.

You stood there, your hands hanging awkwardly by your sides, unsure how to proceed. The room felt heavy, and the quiet seemed so much louder with her refusal to meet your gaze. You didn’t know what you’d done wrong, only that something was different now. Something had changed, and it hurt more than you were ready to admit.

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” you said, the words barely escaping your throat.

You turned toward the kitchen, sighing and not expecting anything else out of your daughter tonight. But then: “Hanbin’s crying, by the way.”

Your heart clenched at the mention of your son’s name, and you quickly turned to face Minseo, who was still engrossed in her phone.

“Why? What happened?!” you asked, your voice a little more urgent now.

Minseo didn't look up, her fingers still scrolling across the screen. “He tried calling Dad again. And... I guess he’s not picking up.” Her words came out flat, emotionless, as if she was just telling you about the weather today. 

You felt a pang in your chest at the thought of Hanbin, still too small to fully grasp the situation. All he wanted was to reach out to his father, to talk to him just like he always did. It was something you had feared - the growing distance between Hyunwoo and the kids. It wasn’t just that he had stopped being the man you married, but now his absence had begun to seep into their lives too.

You didn’t say anything immediately. Instead, you let out a long sigh and walked toward the stairs, your legs feeling heavier and heavier with each step. 

You hadn’t even realized how scared you were of this happening. But now, standing in the hallway at the foot of Hanbin’s door, you couldn’t run from it any longer.

You knocked gently. “Hanbin?”

A faint, muffled sob reached your ears from inside. Your stomach twisted at the sound.

The door creaked open, and you found him curled up on his bed, his small body trembling with each sob. His phone was clenched tightly in his hands, the screen still lit up, but there were no new messages, no notifications. Just an unanswered call to his father.

Your heart broke all over again as you knelt beside him. “Hey, buddy,” you said softly, reaching out to touch his back gently. “What happened?”

Hanbin wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve, his little eyes red and puffy from all the crying. “Dad... he didn’t answer,” he sniffled, his voice cracking. “He promised. He said he would talk to me every day... but he didn’t. I don’t know what I did wrong…”

You almost started crying too. How could you explain this to him? How could you make him understand that this was something that wasn’t his fault, but that there was also nothing you could do to change it?

You sat down next to him, pulling him into a tight embrace, feeling his small body shake with every sob. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Hanbin. It’s not your fault.”

“I want to talk to him. Why doesn’t he want to talk to me, mommy?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. The words hit you harder than anything else he could have said.

You gently rocked him back and forth, trying to find the right words, but you knew that nothing would take away your son's pain.

You wanted so badly to make everything better for him, to explain it in a way that would help him understand. But it was all too complicated, and you didn't know if a 9 year old like him could already understand.

“Hey,” you said softly, pulling back a little to look into his tear-streaked face. “Maybe you can tell me about your day, okay? I’d love to hear about it.”

He sniffled, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. His wide eyes met yours for a moment before dropping to the bed. “You’re not daddy,” he muttered. “I can't talk to you about everything I talk to him...”

Your heart broke a little more. He was right. You weren’t his father. You couldn’t fix this for him. But you weren’t going to let him think that you didn’t care, either.

“You're right,” you said softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “I’m not daddy. But I do care about you. I care about everything you’re feeling right now.”

Hanbin sniffled again, his face scrunching up as though he was trying to hold it all together. "But it’s not the same," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I just want to talk to him."

You didn’t know what to say. The silence that followed felt heavy, and you just continued to quietly hold him against you. The words hovered in the air between you, but you had no answers. You knew that Hanbin needed his father - he needed a male figure who understood him, someone who was supposed to be there for him.

But there was another thought that nagged at the back of your mind. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he could talk to someone else. Someone who could listen. Someone who understood, even if it wasn’t his father.

“Hanbin,” you said, your voice quiet but firm, “what if you talked to Uncle Hongjoong instead? You know he’s always there for you.”

The idea hung in the air for a moment, and Hanbin’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, a flicker of hope in his gaze. But then he shook his head slowly.

“I don’t want to,” he mumbled, turning his face away, staring at the wall as though it could somehow block out everything else. "He’s not... not dad."

It hit you harder than you expected - the realization that even Hongjoong, someone who had been a part of your family for so long, couldn’t replace the hole that Hyunwoo had left. Hanbin had known him since birth, had shared so many memories with him, yet in that moment, he wanted no one else but Hyunwoo. Not even Hongjoong whom he usually adored so much.

“I know, buddy,” you whispered, pulling him into your arms again, wishing you could somehow make it all go away. “I get it. But you don’t have to be alone with this. We’re all here for you, okay? You can always talk to me, even if I’m not daddy.”

He nodded but didn’t say anything more. His small body trembled a little less, but the sadness still lingered of course. You wished there was a way to make it magically disappear, but unfortunately, you were just a human with no such power.

You held him there for a while, neither of you saying anything. You didn’t need to.

Finally, Hanbin pulled back slightly, wiping his eyes and looking up at you. “Can we try calling dad again tomorrow?”

You nodded, even though you knew that it was unlikely anything would change. “Of course, we can. We’ll try again.”

You gently wiped away the last of Hanbin’s tears and let out a soft sigh. 

“How about you go to bed now, hm?” you asked softly, brushing the damp hair from his forehead. “Don't you have your math test tomorrow?”

Hanbin sniffled and nodded. “Yeah, I guess. But... what if I don't do good?”

You smiled faintly, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “You're going to do great. You always do, Hanbin. You're so smart. I believe in you.”

His eyes glimmered with a small trace of hope at your words, and he gave you a weak nod, though the uncertainty still lingered in his gaze.

“Okay,” he muttered, still sounding unsure, but he allowed you to tuck him in nonetheless. 

“And hey,” you added, your voice soft but warm, “I'll make you your favorite breakfast tomorrow, okay? Pancakes, right?”

Hanbin’s eyes lightened up at the mention of pancakes, and despite the lingering sadness on his face, he offered you a small, tired smile. “Thanks, mommy.”

Your heart clenched a little, but you smiled back, brushing a hand through his messy hair one last time before standing up from the side of his bed.

“Goodnight, sweetie. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Hanbin whispered, closing his eyes as he settled further into his blankets.

By the time you made your way back downstairs, Minseo had already retreated back to her room. Her door was closed, and the only thing indicating she was still awake was the soft music coming from her phone. 

You wanted so badly to knock and wish her a goodnight, but you knew not to push your luck. For now, all you could do was respect her space.

And so, you stepped outside onto the front porch, the cool night air brushing against your face. The whole neighbourhood was silent, and only a few streetlights lit up the street. As your gaze swept over the yard, your eyes landed on the porch next door and onto the man sitting there. 

Kim Hongjoong. 

He looked different, though. His shoulders were slightly slumped, as if the weight of something heavy rested on them. His hair, always so carefully styled, had grown a little longer, falling messily across his forehead. He wore a black hoodie and a pair of dark jeans, his hands tucked into the pockets, his expression unreadable. Even in the dim light, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the lines of stress that hadn’t been there before.

The sight of him like this hurt. You'd always admired Hongjoong for his energy, his fire, his passion about even the smallest things, but tonight, he looked... broken.

You hesitated for a moment before walking over to his porch. “Hey,” you called softly, not wanting to startle him.

He looked up at you, and the corner of his lips curled into a faint, almost sad smile. “Hey. Didn’t expect you to be out this late.”

You gave a small shrug. “Had a long shift. The kids are okay for now, so I thought I’d get some air.”

He nodded, glancing at the empty space beside him. “Wanna join me?”

You stepped up, taking a seat next to him, the familiar creak of the old wood beneath you a reminder of how many times you'd sat here before, talking, laughing, even crying. It used to be different. You used to talk about everything, and you could always count on him to make things feel a little lighter, a little more bearable.

But tonight, there was an awkward tension between you two, the kind that comes from years of shared history and sudden distance. The silence stretched for a while, neither of you willing to break it, both lost in your own thoughts.

Finally, Hongjoong spoke, his voice soft, almost hesitant. “How are things... at home?”

You glanced at him, unsure whether to give him a real answer. But then you realized that maybe, just for tonight, you should. For your own sake. “It’s been hard. Minseo’s shutting me out more than usual, and Hanbin... he’s not doing too good either. He tried calling Hyunwoo again. No answer, of course.”

Hongjoong sighed, his gaze turning to the distant streetlights. “I’m sorry, I know that’s got to be tough. For you and the kids.”

You nodded, looking down at your hands. “It’s so… silent. I thought it was just my own imagination... but I feel it in the house. Even with Minseo, there’s this distance. And Hanbin - he’s still holding onto the idea that things are okay between him and Hyunwoo. It’s breaking my heart because I have no idea how to tell him that his dad seemingly decided to cut all contact.”

“It feels like someone's trying to rip my heart out,” you continued, your voice a little shaky now. “He still believes that things will go back to normal. Every time he calls his dad and gets no answer, I see the hurt in his eyes. I don’t know how to fix that for him, Hongjoong. He’s just a little boy.”

Hongjoong shifted slightly, his fingers tapping restlessly against his knees. “It’s hard, isn’t it? Trying to shield them from the things they shouldn’t have to know.”

You nodded, biting your lip. “I don’t want them to feel like this. Minseo, she’s... she’s different now, too. Now that Hyunwoo left… I don’t know how to reach her anymore.”

“Minseo’s at that age, too, you know. The teens are hard. But I can tell you, she’s just needs a little time. It’s hard for them to see the people they love… change into something they don’t recognize.”

You let out a soft sigh and nodded, but the ache for your kids didn’t let up. “She’s always been so strong, but it’s like she’s holding everything in. I wish I could break through... But she's shutting me out.”

Hongjoong shifted his weight, his body a little tense as though he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how to begin. You glanced over at him, and for a moment, his eyes met yours, a soft understanding in them.

"I know what you're going through," he said quietly. "I know it all too well." He paused, and you could hear him take a deep breath. "Minji... she left me."

Your heart skipped a beat. You turned to him, eyes wide with shock. “W-what? Hongjoong, I-”

“She cheated,” he said, his voice shaking slightly, his hand gripping his knee even tighter. “She left me for another man... a rich one, apparently. Someone she’d been seeing behind my back.” His eyes were distant, haunted, as if the words themselves were still too raw, too surreal for him to fully grasp. “I didn’t see it coming. It... it hurt more than I thought it would.”

You couldn’t find the right words to say. You knew Minji had been distant in the months leading up to their split, but this? You never imagined it would be something like this. You reached out, placing a hand on his arm, trying to comfort him, though you knew words couldn’t heal the wound he was feeling.

“I’m so sorry, Hongjoong. I had no idea…”

He nodded, letting out a deep breath. “I didn’t either. She had been so cold, so... unreachable. But I never thought it would end like this. And... that's not even the worst part. Yena, she… she was the one who caught them.”

“She what? Oh, God, Yena… how did she...”

Hongjoong let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “She walked in on them. Just like that. She saw her mom with him, saw them together in our own home. I don't know how much she really understands, but I... I can't even imagine what that must’ve done to her. She was so angry, but also so sad, and I couldn't even find the words to comfort her. I don't know how to fix this for her, either. I don't know how to make any of this better.”

You felt a sickening tightness in your stomachas the horror of Yena’s situation began to sink in. A child should never have to witness something like that, let alone process the reality that their own mother had been unfaithful.

“Yena must be so hurt... she must feel so betrayed. What did you say to her?”

“I didn’t know what to say. All I could do was hold her, and... and try to assure her that it wasn’t her fault. But the thing is, it felt like she was losing more than just her mother. It felt like she was losing both of us. She’s so confused, and I don’t know what to do for her. I can't just tell her it’s all going to be okay. It's not okay. It’s not even close.”

You could hear the anguish in Hongjoong's voice, and the weight of his pain was so tangible, it felt like it had pressed down onto your chest as well. He had always been the person others turned to for support - strong, dependable, someone who had always been a rock for those around him. But now, it seemed like the rock was breaking.

“I'm so sorry, Hongjoong,” you murmured again, unsure what else you could offer. You couldn't even imagine how hard this was for him. The hurt in his voice mirrored the same kind of sorrow you felt for your own family, and you both sat there for a while, not needing to say anything more. You both understood loss. You both understood the feeling of your whole world crashing down.

“What do we do now, Joongie? For the kids?”

Hongjoong looked down at his hands, fingers fidgeting in his lap as he took a deep breath, processing your question. For a long moment, there was only the quiet rustle of leaves in the wind and the distant honking of cars.

“What do we do now?” he muttered to himself, clearly frustrated. “I honestly don’t know, but… the kids... they need us, and we can’t keep letting them feel like they’re alone in this.”

“Well, summer break is coming up,” you said slowly, trying to organize your thoughts. “Maybe... maybe we could do something together? Like, take their minds off everything for a while. There’s still a lot we can do, right? Something to help them feel... normal.”

Hongjoong’s gaze lifted to meet yours, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that. We could take them on some trips. Give them a change of scenery, get away from all this... stuff. I mean, Yena’s been asking about going to the lake house again. Maybe we could take the kids somewhere like that.”

You smiled at the idea. Hanbin, too, had always loved that same lake house. It could be the escape they needed. Maybe even Minseo, despite her recent moodiness, would open up if she had the right distractions.

“Yeah, that could be good,” you agreed. “Maybe a trip to the lake. And we could do some other things too - like go to an amusement park or the zoo. Somewhere fun, where they can just be kids. It won’t fix everything, but it might give them a chance to breathe.”

Hongjoong nodded, his eyes glowing with a bit more energy than before. “Exactly! A little fun, a little time away from home. Get them excited for the summer, make some good memories.”

“We’ll plan a whole summer week of distractions, then,” you said, giving him a small smile. “We’ll give them something to look forward to.”

Hongjoong’s smile widened slightly, and he gave a short laugh. “Sounds like a plan then!”

“But... there might be a small problem, Joongie. Minseo and Yena... aren't exactly friends.”

And just like that, his smile faltered for a second, his brows furrowing as he processed your words. He let out a soft sigh, rubbing the back of his neck in thought.

“I… didn’t think about that,” he admitted quietly. “They're still not on speaking terms?”

You shook your head, a tired sigh escaping you. “No, they aren't. I don’t know if it’s their personalities or something else, but they don’t exactly mesh well. And with everything that’s been going on lately… I’m worried it might be worse.”

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, staring at the ground for a moment as he thought. “That’s... going to be tricky. I don’t want them to feel like they have to spend time together if they’re not comfortable, but at the same time, it’s hard to separate them if we’re all supposed to be spending time together.”

“Exactly,” you agreed. “I don’t want to force them into anything, but it’s going to be hard to plan activities that make everyone happy if we don’t at least try to get them to work things out.” You paused, tapping your fingers lightly on the armrest of the chair. “Maybe we could start small? Give them a chance to build something on their own terms.”

Hongjoong nodded slowly. “Yeah... We could try easing them into it. Maybe not throw them into some big group thing right away. Let them have some time to get used to the idea of spending time together again, but without forcing it.” He looked at you, a hint of concern in his eyes. “It’s going to be awkward, though. I know Minseo’s been distant with Yena for a while now.”

“Yeah, Minseo’s been pulling away, and Yena - well, no offense - she's not exactly the type to try and fix things on her own. I don’t know if she even knows how to handle Minseo's recent temper,” you admitted, your voice softening. “But maybe... maybe this summer could be a chance to get them to at least try. They don’t have to be best friends overnight, but if we give them the space to reconnect, they might surprise us.”

Hongjoong exhaled deeply, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his knee. “You’re right. Maybe it’s just a matter of giving them time. We don’t have to rush anything, and if they’re not ready, we can adjust. But if they’re going to be in the same place a lot this summer, we might have to come up with some ground rules to keep things... civil.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Ground rules, huh? Like no biting each other’s heads off every time they disagree?”

Hongjoong’s lips formed a small grin. “Something like that. We’ll avoid any forced bonding, but also make sure they understand our time together might help them, too. No matter how awkward it gets, they have to remember they’re in this together for now.”

You tilted your head, a teasing glint sparking in your eyes. “Think we should draw up a contract? ‘No screaming matches, no storming off, and definitely no threatening to run away after every argument.’”

Hongjoong chuckled, shaking his head. “Knowing Minseo and Yena, they’d probably negotiate harsher terms for us.”

You laughed, feeling a bit of the tension ease. “God, we're doomed.”

“Completely,” he agreed, grinning. “But at least we go down fighting.”

“Mom, when are we there?” Hanbin whined from the back seat, his small legs swinging restlessly as he kicked the seat in front of him.

“Soon, sweetheart,” you replied patiently, twisting in your seat to glance back at him. “We’ve only got about an hour left.”

Before you could settle back in, a sharp voice cut through the air.

“Minseo, stop hogging the armrest!” Yena snapped, shoving Minseo’s elbow aside.

“Oh, please! You’ve been leaning on me this whole time,” Minseo shot back, eyes flashing.

You sighed, already feeling a headache forming. “Girls, enough. We’re going to be stuck in this car for at least another hour, please try to keep it together until then!” 

Neither of them seemed particularly thrilled at the idea but begrudgingly muttered, “Fine.”

Settling back into your seat, you exhaled once again. Your gaze drifted toward Hongjoong, who had his hands steady on the wheel, his expression focused but relaxed, chuckling slightly. The sunlight filtering through the windshield caught the sharp line of his jaw, highlighting features you hadn’t allowed yourself to notice in a long time.

Huh... you thought absently, he really hasn’t changed much... except somehow he looks even better now.

Time had been remarkably kind to Hongjoong - if anything, age had sharpened his features in a way that made him look even more striking. The soft crinkles at the corners of his eyes only added depth to his good looks, and the streaks of silver in his dark hair gave him an air of effortless charm.

You caught yourself staring and quickly looked away, clearing your throat. Focus, you reminded yourself. We’re just co-parenting this trip… it's just Hongjoong, for fuck’s sake! You've known him for over 20 years now!

Shaking off the thought as quickly as it came, you turned back toward the kids. “Alright, how about we play a game? Something to keep us all from losing our minds before we get there.”

Hanbin perked up immediately, his eyes lighting up. “I wanna play I Spy!” he announced eagerly.

Minseo groaned dramatically. “That game’s so boring...”

Yena crossed her arms. “It’s better than sitting here in awkward silence.”

Before your daughter could snap back, Hongjoong’s voice chimed in, and he looked back at the children for a quick second. “How about this - whoever wins gets to pick the first activity when we get there. Sounds good?”

The girls exchanged wary glances but, to your relief, nodded reluctantly.

“Alright, Hanbin, you can go first,” you encouraged, hoping the game might ease the tension.

Hanbin beamed. “Okay! I spy with my little eye... something blue!”

Everyone glanced around the car, scanning the scenery flashing past. Minseo guessed, “The sky?”

“Nope!” Hanbin grinned mischievously.

“The sign we just passed?” Yena continued hesitantly.

“Nope!” Hanbin’s giggles grew louder.

You frowned playfully. “Is it... your shirt?”

Hanbin’s laughter erupted. “Yes! Took you long enough!”

The game continued, and after a while, the kids grew quieter. Hanbin eventually nodded off, his small head resting against Minseo’s shoulder, who tolerated it with only a mild eye-roll before gently adjusting so he’d be more comfortable. Yena was absorbed in her phone, earbuds in, lost in her own world.

Hongjoong’s fingers tapped the steering wheel rhythmically. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, a fond smile tugging at your lips. Time really had shifted so much between you, yet sitting here felt oddly... right. Familiar, in a way you hadn’t realized you missed.

“We’re almost there,” he murmured after a long stretch of silence, his voice low but warm. “You okay?”

You nodded, offering a small smile. “Yeah... it’s nice. Feels like old times, kinda.”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah... it does.”

The car eventually pulled onto a winding gravel road bordered by towering trees on its side. The air outside was warm, and you could hear cicadas humming faintly in the distance. At the end of the path stood the cozy, weathered cabin - its wooden frame sturdy and welcoming, framed by flower-filled window boxes and a wide wraparound porch.

“We’re here!” Hongjoong announced as he stalled the engine.

Hanbin stirred awake instantly, blinking sleepily before gasping in delight. “We’re here? We’re here!”

Yena and Minseo both perked up, stretching as they climbed out of the car. You followed, inhaling deeply, savoring the fresh, earthy scent of pine and warm grass.

Hongjoong stepped around the car to join you, his expression light and content. “Still looks the same, huh?”

“Yeah...” You nodded, memories of summers spent here flashing through your mind. “Feels like home.”

Before either of you could say more, Hanbin sprinted toward the cabin, shouting excitedly, “I get to pick the first activity!” Yena and Minseo exchanged knowing looks before chasing after him, laughter spilling through the air.

You and Hongjoong shared a quiet, understanding smile.

“Ready for this?” he asked playfully, his eyes crinkling in that familiar, heart-stirring way.

You laughed softly, bumping his shoulder. “Let’s see if we can survive the kids.” 

After a whirlwind of unpacking - bags hauled inside, beds claimed, and a brief argument between the girls over god knows what - the cabin finally settled into a somewhat peaceful rhythm. The kids’ things were scattered in every direction, but at least no one was actively yelling anymore.

Well, almost no one.

“I’m not sharing a room with her!” Yena declared, arms crossed as she stood in the small hallway, glaring daggers at Minseo.

“Good, I don’t want to share with you either,” Minseo shot back, equally stubborn.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling a familiar headache creeping in again. Before you could step in, Hongjoong spoke up, taking care of the situation for you.

“Fine. Minseo, you take the small room upstairs. Yena, you get the pullout couch in the living room. Problem solved.”

Both girls opened their mouths to argue, but something in Hongjoong’s gaze made them reconsider. Grumbling, they grabbed their bags and stomped off in opposite directions.

You sighed, shooting Hongjoong a grateful look. “Crisis averted… for now.”

He smirked. “Not bad for our first hour here.”

Then reality hit you. “Wait... if Minseo’s in the small room and Yena’s in the living room... where are we sleeping?”

His brow furrowed for a moment before realization dawned. He let out a resigned chuckle. “There’s only one bed left... the master.”

Your stomach flipped. You hadn’t even considered that possibility when booking the cabin, assuming the girls would share like they used to when they were younger.

“Well...” You cleared your throat. “It’s a big bed. We’ll... manage.”

Hongjoong nodded, still smiling faintly. “We’ve survived worse.”

You tried not to read much into the warmth in his voice, quickly busying yourself by unpacking. Sharing a bed with your best friend felt... somewhat weird. But at least you were both adults. It would be fine.

Probably.

Once everything was sorted and the girls' tempers cooled down, Hanbin burst into the living room, practically vibrating with excitement and jumping up and down like a bouncy ball. “I know what I want to do first!” he announced, with sparkling eyes and a huge smile on his face.

Minseo leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “This better not be something ridiculous.”

Hanbin ignored her, bouncing on his toes. “I want to go to the lake! We can swim and skip rocks!”

Yena groaned a little but didn’t protest, clearly itching to stretch her legs after the long drive. Minseo sighed but grabbed her swimsuit from her bag without further complaint.

You exchanged a glance with Hongjoong, who smirked knowingly. “Guess the lake it is,” he said, grabbing a couple of towels from the stack you’d unpacked.

Within minutes, everyone was ready, swimsuits on and sunscreen applied. The well-worn path to the lake stretched through a small wooded area surrounded by trees. The distant sound of water lapping against the shore grew louder as you approached.

When the trees parted, the lake spread out before you, sparkling like glass under the sinking sun. The familiar wooden dock jutted into the water, weathered but still sturdy, just as you remembered.

Hanbin wasted no time, sprinting toward the dock in a hurry. “Watch me, mom!” he yelled before cannonballing into the water with an impressive splash.

You laughed, shielding your face from the spray. “Careful!”

Minseo and Yena exchanged a glance before racing toward the water, both diving in gracefully. Their laughter echoed across the water as they surfaced, already bickering over whose dive was better.

You sat down on the dock’s edge, dipping your feet into the cool water. It was refreshing against your skin, easing the lingering tension from the long drive.

Hongjoong settled next to you, close enough that your shoulders brushed. He rested his arms on his knees, eyes on the kids as they played and splashed. His expression softened.

“It’s nice seeing them like this,” he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful.

“Yeah...” You nodded, watching Hanbin laugh as Minseo playfully dunked Yena under the water. “It feels... right. Like they’re making the same memories we did.”

Hongjoong’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, something unreadable in his eyes. Before he could say anything, Hanbin’s voice rang out.

“Uncle Hongjoong! Mom! Come swim with us!” He waved both arms excitedly, his face lit up with pure joy.

You hesitated, but Hongjoong was already standing, pulling off his shirt in one smooth motion. He glanced back at you, smirking. “You coming, or what?”

Your breath hitched for a split second, heat rushing to your face as you watched Hongjoong pull his shirt over his head. His toned torso gleamed under the afternoon sun, soft muscles flexing effortlessly as he stretched. Hongjoong wasn't that muscular, not even in his youth, but he was lean and strong and pretty.

You swallowed hard, feeling like a teenager all over again - heart pounding, pulse quickening - as if seeing a man's body for the first time. 

Get it together. It’s just Hongjoong.

You quickly tore your gaze away. But then, as your children waited for you to join them in the lake, insecurity crept in like an unwelcome guest. Your eyes flickered downward, taking in your own reflection in the water’s rippling surface. Time hadn’t been as kind to you as it had been to Hongjoong. Years of motherhood, stress, and life had left soft curves where there once were muscles, stretch marks tracing the story of your children’s lives on your skin.

You tugged at the hem of your swimsuit self-consciously, smoothing it over your hips.The doubts remained though - you weren’t the same you once were, and standing next to someone like Hongjoong only highlighted every insecurity you tried so hard to ignore.

“Hey,” his voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, warm and gentle. You looked up, startled, only to find him standing at the edge of the dock, hand outstretched toward you, a familiar spark in his eyes. “You coming or what?”

His smile was so easy, so genuine - like he saw you, not the flaws you couldn’t stop focusing on. Like you hadn’t changed at all in his eyes.

Like you two were still 16, and Minji and Hyunwoo never broke you.

Before you could overthink it, you slipped your hand into his. His fingers closed around yours firmly, pulling you to your feet with effortless strength.

“Let’s go,” he urged, eyes crinkling in that familiar, heart-melting way.

Without giving yourself time to hesitate, you stepped forward - and together, hand in hand, you jumped into the cool, welcoming embrace of the lake.

“Oh my god, it's so cold!” you shrieked once you surfaced again.

Hongjoong surfaced right beside you, laughing as he wiped water from his face. “What did you expect? This lake has always been freezing.”

You splashed water at him playfully. “You could’ve warned me!”

He dodged the spray, grinning. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Before you could retaliate, Hanbin swam over, eyes wide with excitement. “Did you see my cannonball, Uncle Hongjoong? Wasn’t it awesome?”

“It was epic!” Hongjoong praised, ruffling the boy’s damp hair. “You’re practically a pro now.”

Hanbin beamed proudly, already plotting his next jump off the dock. Yena and Minseo swam closer, still competing against each other.

“Bet I can swim to the dock faster than you,” Minseo challenged Yena.

“Oh, you’re on,” Yena shot back, already propelling herself through the water.

You laughed, watching them go. “Some things never change.”

Hongjoong chuckled beside you, treading water effortlessly. “Good to see them like this... even if they argue half the time.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, feeling the ache of nostalgia tug at your chest. 

Before you could linger too long in your thoughts, a mischievous gleam lit up Hongjoong’s eyes. “Race you back to the dock?”

You raised a brow. “Really? You think you can still beat me?”

His smirk widened. “Still? I always beat you.”

“Dream on,” you challenged, already pushing off the water.

The two of you surged forward, the cold water slicing around you as you swam with everything you had. For a moment, you were young again - no responsibilities, no past heartaches - just two old friends racing through the water like nothing had ever changed.

Hongjoong reached the dock a split second before you, laughing breathlessly as he gripped the edge. “Still got it.”

You gasped, trying to catch your breath, splashing water at him. “Barely.”

He leaned against the dock, still laughing, his face inches from yours. His gaze softened, lingering on you in a way that felt... different - familiar but weighted with something deeper, something unsaid.

You remembered that gaze. It was the same way he looked at you many, many years ago.

“Hey...” His voice was low, almost hesitant.

Your breath caught, but before either of you could speak, Hanbin’s voice rang out.

“Mom! Uncle Hongjoong! Watch this!”

You snapped back to reality just in time to see Hanbin launching himself off the dock in another dramatic cannonball. Water sprayed everywhere, making you both laugh as the moment slipped away like the ripples spreading across the lake.

Hours passed, and as the sun dipped lower on the horizon, the chill of the evening air slowly began to set in. Yena and Minseo were still splashing and laughing, but even their boundless energy was bound to fade.

“Alright, girls!” you called. “Time to head back and get some dinner.”

Yena groaned dramatically. “Already?”

“It’s getting late,” Hongjoong reasoned, wading out of the water. “And I’m pretty sure Hanbin’s about to pass out.”

You turned to see your son curled up on the dock, wrapped in a damp towel, his chest rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. A fond smile tugged at your lips. “Poor thing played himself out.”

Hongjoong was already stepping onto the dock, water still dripping from his hair as he crouched beside Hanbin. “Guess I’m on carrying duty.”

“Joong, I can-”

He waved you off with a playful smirk. “I’ve got him.” With surprising ease, he scooped Hanbin into his arms, cradling the boy’s head against his shoulder. Hanbin stirred faintly but didn’t fully wake up, sighing contentedly in his sleep.

Your heart clenched at the sight - at how effortlessly Hongjoong fit into moments like this, how natural he looked carrying your son…

Minseo and Yena trailed behind as you led the way back toward the house, still chatting about god knows what.

By the time you reached the back porch, the sky was a deep shade of blur, stars beginning to pierce through the fading twilight. You unlocked the door and gestured toward the cozy living room.

“Lay him on the couch,” you suggested quietly.

Hongjoong nodded, carefully settling Hanbin onto the plush cushions, adjusting a blanket over him. He lingered a moment, brushing damp hair from Hanbin’s forehead with a tenderness that made your chest ache.

“Thanks,” you whispered, unable to keep the emotion from your voice.

He met your gaze, something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes. “Anytime.”

Before the silence could stretch too long, Minseo poked her head into the room. “Mom, what’s for dinner?”

You smiled faintly, clearing your throat. “How about spaghetti?”

Minseo’s face lit up. “Can we help?”

“Of course.” You motioned toward the kitchen. “Yena, you too. You’re on garlic bread duty.”

The girls rushed ahead, their giggles echoing through the house. Hongjoong lingered in the doorway, watching his daughter with that soft, distant expression he always got when he thought no one was looking.

“How about you take a shower first? No need to help, me and the girls got this,” you suggested. 

Hongjoong groaned, stretching his body. “You sure?”

“Positive. You drove us here, I'll make dinner. It's the least I can do.”

Hongjoong hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you before nodding slowly. “Alright, but call me if you need anything.”

You smiled warmly. “Go. We’ve got it.”

He disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone in the kitchen with the girls. Minseo was already setting a pot of water to boil while Yena hunted for the garlic bread ingredients.

“Mom, where’s the bread knife?” Minseo asked, rummaging through a drawer.

“Top left, under the cutting board.”

Yena held up a baguette triumphantly. “Found it!”

You chuckled, grabbing an apron from the hook. “Alright, let’s make this quick before you two pass out too.”

You couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of peace as you watched the girls. It made you think… When was the last time Minseo and Hanbin were this relaxed, this happy when Hyunwoo was still around? Of course they loved their father, but when the two of you were still married, the atmosphere was always tense. Never this light nor carefree. 

It's all thanks to Hongjoong and even Yena that your children could forget their worries and be happy. And even you could feel yourself smile and laugh without a single worry in the world right now.

Just as you were finishing the sauce, you heard soft footsteps behind you. Turning, you found Hongjoong leaning against the doorway, freshly showered, his hair damp and tousled, wearing a simple hoodie and sweatpants. He looked so relaxed, so… right.

“Smells amazing,” he said, his voice warm.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” you replied, pretending your heart hadn’t just skipped a beat.

“Need me to set the table?” he offered.

“Already done,” Minseo piped up proudly.

He chuckled. “You girls are fast.”

“Sit,” you insisted, waving him toward the dining table. “Relax for once.”

Hongjoong held up his hands in surrender, moving to take a seat as the girls carried plates and bowls to the table.

Once everything was set, you all gathered around, Yena claiming the seat next to her father and eagerly telling him something, while Minseo took the seat right next to you. For a moment, it felt like you were part of something whole again - just a family sitting and eating together.

As the meal wound down, Hanbin stirred from the couch, his sleepy trying to blink the sleep away. “Mom...?”

You were by his side in an instant. “Hey, baby. You hungry?”

He nodded slowly, still half-asleep. Before you could lift him, Hongjoong was already there, scooping Hanbin up with practiced ease and settling him gently into a chair.

“Thanks, Uncle Joong,” Hanbin mumbled, leaning against him as you placed a small plate of spaghetti in front of him.

Hongjoong ruffled his hair with a fond smile. “Anytime, buddy.”

Hanbin had finished only a few bites of his spaghetti before sleep claimed him again. You and Hongjoong exchanged a knowing look. Without a word, he gently lifted Hanbin into his arms once more, cradling him like it was second nature. You followed him down the hall to Hanbin’s room, pushing the door open softly.

Hongjoong laid Hanbin down on the small bed, tucking the blanket up to his chin. His expression was so tender, so full of quiet affection that it made your heart ache in ways you couldn’t quite explain. You stood at the foot of the bed, watching in silence as he smoothed Hanbin’s hair one last time before stepping back.

“Goodnight, buddy,” he whispered.

You mouthed a silent thank you as you both slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind you.

You and Hongjoong walked down the hall, your shoulders brushing ever so slightly as you walked side by side. Neither of you spoke, but the comfortable silence between you felt like its own kind of conversation.

As you reached your shared living space for the holidays, Hongjoong stretched with a quiet groan, running a hand through his still damp hair. “I think I’m officially done for the day,” he admitted, a tired but content smile tugging at his lips.

You chuckled softly. “Go lay down already, I’ll check on the girls.”

He hesitated for a moment, searching your face as though he wanted to say something more, but ultimately he just nodded. “Goodnight... and thanks for today. For everything.”

“Anytime,” you replied warmly, echoing his earlier words.

He disappeared into your shared room, leaving you standing alone in the dimly lit hallway. With a soft sigh, you headed toward the girls’ rooms, pausing outside Minseo’s door. Peeking inside, you found her already curled up under her blankets, fast asleep. You adjusted her comforter gently before stepping back.

Just as you turned to leave, a faint, choked sound reached your ears - muffled sobs coming from Yena’s room. Your chest tightened, knowing instantly what it meant. You hesitated, fingers hovering over her door. You weren’t her mother... you didn’t want to overstep.

But you couldn’t just walk away either.

You knocked lightly, your voice soft but steady. “Yena? It’s... it’s me. Can I come in?”

There was a long, agonizing silence. Just when you thought she wouldn’t answer, her voice, small and slightly hoarse, finally whispered, “...Okay.”

You pushed the door open slowly and found her curled up in a tight ball on her bed, her face buried in her arms, shoulders trembling with quiet sobs. The soft glow of the moon bathed her room in silver light, casting long shadows across the walls.

Carefully, you sat on the edge of her bed, not wanting to crowd her. “Hey... what’s going on?”

“I just… I just wish mom was here, you know? But… but at the same time, I wish I'd never have to see her again… but I-i,” she choked out.

Your heart shattered at the weight of her words.

“I don’t... I don’t get how she could just do that to dad,” Yena continued, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and grief. “She was supposed to love him... to love me… but she ruined everything.”

Tears burned at the back of your eyes, but you kept your voice steady. “It’s okay to feel both, Yena. Missing her doesn’t mean you’re forgiving what she did... and being angry doesn’t mean you’ve stopped loving her.”

She sniffled, wiping at her tear-streaked face. “I hate that I still care… that part of me wants her back, even after everything she did.”

Carefully, you rested a gentle hand on her back. “That just means you have a big heart… and you love deeply. It’s not wrong to feel that way.”

Her lip trembled as she whispered, “It hurts so much.”

Without thinking, you opened your arms. She hesitated for only a second before collapsing into your embrace, her sobs breaking free as she clung to you.

“I’ve got you,” you whispered, holding her tightly. “You’re allowed to feel everything... you don’t have to carry it alone.”

You held Yena close, letting her cry until the worst of her sobs subsided. You gently stroked her hair, whispering soothing words as her trembling lessened.

“I know it’s hard,” you murmured. “But you’re not alone, Yena. You’ll never be alone.”

A quiet shuffling sound drew your attention to the doorway. Minseo stood there, her dark hair tousled from sleep, eyes groggy but alert.

Yena tensed the moment she noticed her, eyes narrowing.

“What are you doing here?” Yena’s voice cracked.

“Minseo, sweetheart... maybe you should go back to bed,” you suggested softly, not wanting to escalate things.

But Minseo didn’t budge. Without a word, she walked over, climbed onto the bed, and sat on the opposite side, her small hand reaching out to rest atop Yena’s.

Yena flinched but didn’t pull away, confusion flashing across her tear-streaked face.

“I... I get it,” Minseo said quietly, her voice steady but strained. “I miss my dad too... but I also hate him... and I don’t know how to stop feeling both.”

Your breath hitched.

Then, turning to you, she continued: “I don’t understand why you hate him… why you left him, mom...” Minseo continued, her fingers curling against Yena’s. “He was always nice... to me, at least. He never yelled or hit you... so why did you leave? Why did he stop talking to me? Why... why did everything have to change?”

Her voice cracked, tears filling her wide, questioning eyes. “I feel like I’m the reason he’s gone... like if I’d been better, maybe he would’ve stayed.”

Yena stared at Minseo. Then, quickly, she shook her head.

“It’s not your fault,” Yena whispered. “Parents... they just... mess up sometimes.”

Minseo’s lips trembled. “But he left... he doesn’t even call anymore. And... and mom, you never tell me what happened... you just expect me to be okay with it.”

Your heart broke all over again. “Minseo... I’m so sorry.”

For the first time, Yena squeezed Minseo’s hand. “I thought it was my fault too... what my mom did. But... maybe... it’s not about us.”

Minseo nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks. “It still hurts.”

“I know,” Yena whispered. “It hurts for me too.”

Without another word, the two girls leaned into each other, and giggled as they hit their heads.

They didn't even notice that you were long gone and soon fell asleep in each other's arms.

The car doors slammed shut one after another as you, Hongjoong, Yena, Minseo, and Hanbin stepped out into the parking lot of the amusement park. It has been Hanbin’s dream for the longest time to go here, and so it wasn't a surprise to see him practically vibrating with excitement, unable to stand still. “Can we go on the rides now?” he begged, bouncing on his toes.

“Shoes first,” you reminded gently, watching as he hastily retied a crooked lace.

Meanwhile, Minseo and Yena stood off to the side, chatting and giggling quietly about something only they understood. They shared a glance and broke into another round of laughter.

Hongjoong, locking the car, paused mid-motion, eyes narrowing suspiciously at the two girls. “...Are they laughing together?”

You bit back a smile, knowing exactly what he was thinking. Minseo and Yena rarely went five minutes without bickering - this newfound harmony was bound to set off alarm bells in his overprotective brain.

“They’re allowed to get along, you know,” you teased, nudging him playfully.

He scoffed. “Since when?”

Before you could answer, Hanbin tugged at Hongjoong’s arm. “Please, can we go now?” His eyes sparkled with pure excitement.

“Alright, alright, let’s go before you explode,” Hongjoong relented, ruffling the boy’s hair.

As you all headed toward the amusement park entrance, Hanbin sprinted ahead, pointing at every ride he saw, his excitement even infecting you.

Yena and Minseo walked side by side, still wrapped up in their own quiet little world. 

Hongjoong couldn’t stop glancing at them, looking utterly confused. “This is... still so weird to see,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “They don’t fight anymore? What happened?”

You hid a smile. “Guess we'll never know.”

It has been two days since that night, yet every time he saw them together actually getting along, Hongjoong still acted like he'd just seen a ghost. It was hilarious honestly. 

He shot you a suspicious look but let it go, too distracted by Hanbin waving frantically near the ticket booth. “Come on! We’re wasting time!”

With tickets finally secured, you stepped into the park. Hanbin immediately took off like a rocket, forcing you and Hongjoong to jog after him.

“Let’s do that one!” Hanbin shouted, pointing to a massive roller coaster twisting through the sky.

“That’s a bit intense for a first ride,” you laughed. “Maybe we can try something a little... less likely to send me into cardiac arrest?”

Hanbin groaned dramatically but agreed. Yena and Minseo quietly whispered, eyeing the spinning teacup ride nearby.

“How about the teacups first?” you suggested.

To your surprise, both girls nodded eagerly. Even Hanbin agreed after a moment’s thought - probably because it meant getting on a ride as soon as possible.

As the ride operator let you in, Hanbin raced to grab a seat, demanding that Hongjoong spin their cup as fast as possible. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way Hongjoong rolled his eyes but complied, already bracing himself for Hanbin’s shouts of “Faster Uncle Hongjoong, faster!”

You settled into another teacup with Minseo and Yena, the three of you spinning gently while the girls giggled every time it went a little fast.

After the teacups, you stretched your arms with a contented sigh. Your body wasn't getting any younger and even this little activity settled deep into your bones. “How about the Ferris wheel next? We can get a better view of the park from up there and plan what to do after.”

Hanbin’s face scrunched in disappointment. “The Ferris wheel? That’s boring!”

Before you could respond, Hongjoong gently ruffled his hair. “It’s not boring. It’s a good way to see where all the best rides are.”

Hanbin crossed his arms but reluctantly followed as you headed toward the towering Ferris wheel.

As you approached the line, Hanbin perked up. “I wanna ride with Minseo and Yena!”

The girls exchanged glances, raising their eyebrows. “Sorry, Hanbin,” Minseo said with mock seriousness. “Only girls allowed.”

“Yeah,” Yena added playfully. “You’re too little anyway.”

“Am not!” Hanbin stomped his foot, his cheeks turning red.

You opened your mouth to intervene, but Hongjoong gently placed a hand on your arm, shaking his head subtly. “Hey, bud,” he called to Hanbin. “You can ride with us.”

But Hanbin, now thoroughly offended, huffed and stomped toward an empty cart on his own.

“Hanbin, wait-” you started, but the ride operator had already secured the gate behind him. He plopped down in the cart with crossed arms, glaring at nothing in particular.

Hongjoong sighed. “He’s fine. He just needs a minute.”

You nodded, though worry still tugged at your chest. As the Ferris wheel slowly lifted you into the sky, you watched Hanbin’s cart ahead of yours. His pouty face softened a little as he gazed out over the park, clearly enchanted by the view despite his earlier protest.

Hongjoong also watched the children for a little before collapsing back into his seat, a groan escaping him.

“You look tired,” you said gently, breaking the comfortable silence.

He blinked, surprised. “Tired? Nah... I’m fine.”

“Liar.” You smirked knowingly. “You’ve been running around after Hanbin all day.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I’m not as young as I used to be.”

Without thinking, you shifted closer, reaching toward his shoulder. “Here, let me-”

Before your fingers could make contact, Hongjoong straightened abruptly, his eyes widening. “Ah! No need- seriously!”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You sure? You were literally wincing earlier.”

He waved a hand dismissively, though a faint flush crept up his neck. “I-I probably just... slept weird last night or something.”

“...Right.” You couldn’t help but laugh softly at how flustered he’d become. “I don't bite, Hongjoong.”

He scratched his head, avoiding your gaze. “I know. I just... you don’t have to.”

His shyness was almost endearing, and you found yourself smiling widely. 

Then, even though you were already moving on in your mind, Hongjoong let out a small, guilty sigh, and you perked up at that sound. “Okay... I might’ve brought my laptop.”

You blinked at him. “...Seriously? Joong, we’re on vacation. You promised no work.”

“I’m not working,” he defended himself quickly. “It’s just... in case something urgent comes up.”

You shook your head, half-amused, half-exasperated. “You’re hopeless.”

Before he could reply, the Ferris wheel gave a sudden, sharp jolt, making the entire cabin shake. You gasped as you lost your balance, tumbling forward and right into Hongjoong’s chest.

His arms wrapped around you instinctively, holding you securely against him. Your palms rested against the soft fabric of his hoodie, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath.

“You okay?” he asked, voice softer now, concerned.

“Y-Yeah.” You nodded, still pressed against him. “That... wasn’t supposed to happen, right?”

His eyes flicked upward toward the still Ferris wheel mechanism. “I don’t think so...”

Neither of you moved, still tangled together as the realization slowly set in: you were stuck.

You became acutely aware of how close your faces were, his dark eyes searching yours, warmth radiating from his body. His arm was still firm around your waist, steadying you in the swaying cart, and you couldn’t help but notice the small details about him now that the two of you were so close. The glasses perched on his nose framed his sharp, elegant features- his jawline was slightly more defined than you remembered, as if time had chiseled away the last hints of softness from his youth. His lips, faintly pursed as he looked at you with concern, were fuller than they had any right to be.

His hair, dark and slightly tousled, framed his face effortlessly, giving him an almost disheveled yet neat charm that felt... magnetic. The open collar of his shirt exposed the curve of his collarbones and the faint shadows of muscle below. You tried not to look, but your gaze betrayed you, lowering there for just a moment too long.

It hit you like a punch to the gut- why the hell were you suddenly noticing these things? You’d known him for over two decades, had seen him in every possible light, from the awkward teen years to the confident adult he’d become. He was your best friend, and yet, as he stared at you now, his brow furrowed in mild confusion, you felt... different.

Your heart stuttered unexpectedly, a warmth creeping up your neck. This was Hongjoong - the same Hongjoong who stayed up late with you for endless movie marathons, who held your hand through your hardest days, who once got his head stuck in a fence when you were kids because he thought it’d make you laugh.

And yet, the man sitting in front of you now felt like someone else entirely. Not unfamiliar, but... new. There was a subtle intensity in his gaze, a quiet confidence in the way he held himself, as though life had refined him into someone you couldn’t quite place. It made you feel unsteady, like the Ferris wheel wasn’t the only thing off balance.

“Y/N? You still with me?” his voice broke through your clouded mind, his head tilting slightly as he studied you.

“I-I’m fine,” you stammered, quickly sitting back in your seat.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t press the issue. Instead, he released a soft chuckle, his lips curving into a smile that seemed to tug a little too insistently at your chest.

This was bad. Very bad. Because the thoughts you were having weren’t the kind of thoughts you should be having about your best friend.

You forced yourself to breathe, pushing away these strange, unfamiliar thoughts. Shaking your head slightly, you turned your head. Your eyes scanned the Ferris wheel, quickly landing on the girls. Minseo and Yena were chatting away in their shared cart, seemingly unbothered by the sudden stop. Minseo had her phone out, and Yena was pointing to something on the screen, both of them laughing softly. You smiled a little. At least they were okay.

But then your gaze drifted to Hanbin’s cart.

And your stomach clenched.

Your son, who had looked so happy just moments ago, now looked anything but. His small hands were gripping the safety bar tightly, his knuckles white as his eyes darted around in pure panic. He was sitting stiffly, his legs drawn up slightly as though he were trying to make himself smaller than he actually was. Even from a distance, you could see how much he was shaking.

“Hanbin,” you breathed, your voice barely audible.

Hongjoong followed your gaze, immediately becoming alarmed. “Crap,” he muttered under his breath.

“Hanbin!” you called, leaning as far as you could toward his cart without tipping over. “It’s okay, sweetheart! We’re right here!”

But Hanbin didn’t seem to hear you. His head was bowed now, his face buried in his hands. His little frame shook visibly, and your chest tightened at the sight.

Hongjoong leaned forward, trying to get his attention . “Hanbin, buddy, look at me! It’s okay! You’re safe!”

The boy’s head lifted slightly, and his tear-filled eyes locked onto Hongjoong. “I-I’m scared!” he cried, his voice breaking.

“It’s alright,” Hongjoong said. “I know it’s scary right now, but I need you to take a deep breath for me, okay? Can you do that?”

Hanbin hesitated. Then, he slowly nodded and closed his eyes. His small chest rose and fell unevenly, but it was a start.

You pressed a hand to your mouth, trying your best to stay composed. 

“Hanbin,” you shouted. “Uncle Hongjoong and I are right here. You’re not alone. We’re going to get down soon, I promise.”

“You promise, mommy?” Hanbin sniffled, his big, teary eyes looking back and forth between the two of you.

Hongjoong nodded firmly. “Absolutely. But until then, we need you to be brave, okay? I mean, you’re the bravest kid I know, right?”

Hanbin’s lip quivered, but he nodded slightly, wiping at his tear-streaked face with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Good job,” Hongjoong praised. “Just keep breathing like that, bud. We’re gonna be fine.”

You reached out instinctively, your hand brushing against Hongjoong’s arm. He didn’t pull away this time, his focus entirely on Hanbin. For a brief moment, you felt a wave of gratitude for him. Hongjoong had always been amazing with your son, but now, you realized just how close they really were. It would be impossible to imagine your children’s life without him in it.

As the Ferris wheel swayed slightly again, you tightened your grip on your seat. “We need to get him down,” you murmured, glancing at Hongjoong.

“We will,” he said. His jaw tightened as he scanned the park below, likely looking for the operator or a maintenance crew. “Look,” he pointed towards a few people gathering on the ground, “it seems like they're trying to solve it already.” 

You followed Hongjoong's gaze, spotting a group of workers in bright uniforms gathered near the base. They appeared to be discussing something, a few of them pointing up at the ride and gesturing animatedly. Relief washed over you, but it was fleeting. Hanbin was still up here, still scared and alone, and every passing second felt like an eternity.

“Hanbin,” you called again, “the workers are going to fix this soon, okay? Just hold tight, sweetheart.”

He nodded, yet still looked uneasy. His hands hadn’t left the safety bar, his small fingers clutching it like it was his lifeline.

“I’ve got an idea,” Hongjoong said suddenly. “Hanbin, do you remember that song we were singing in the car on the way here?”

Hanbin blinked, his tear-streaked face turning toward Hongjoong. “The silly one?”

“Exactly!” Hongjoong grinned. “How about we sing it now? You lead, and I’ll follow.”

Hanbin hesitated, clearly unsure.

“Come on, bud,” Hongjoong urged gently. “It’ll help take your mind off things. And I need you to help me remember the words, okay?”

You watched as your son’s little shoulders relaxed just a little. Then, although still hesitant, he began to sing.

“There’s a bear in the woods, and he’s wearing a hat...”

Hongjoong joined in immediately. “He’s got big, big shoes and a cat on his back...”

With each line, Hanbin’s voice grew steadier, and a small smile even managed to steal itself on his lips By the second verse, he was giggling at Hongjoong’s deliberately off-key singing, and you felt some of the tension in your chest ease.

You joined in, too, harmonizing as best as you could. Minseo and Yena, hearing the commotion, peeked out of their cart and started laughing.

“Dad, this is a terrible song!” Yena called as she and Minseo exchanged glances.

“It's amazing, thank you very much!” Hongjoong retorted, feigning offense as he continued singing with Hanbin.

For a few precious moments, everything around you seemed to disappear. Hanbin’s laugh was infectious, and even you couldn’t help but smile despite the circumstances.

“See?” Hongjoong said as the song ended, giving Hanbin a thumbs-up. “Told you you’re the bravest kid ever.”

Hanbin beamed, his earlier panic almost entirely gone. “I am, huh?”

“The bravest,” you agreed, your voice warm with pride.

Just then, the Ferris wheel gave another lurch. This time, instead of jolting to a stop, it began to move again - slowly, but steadily.

“It’s moving!” Minseo exclaimed, her voice filled with relief.

Hanbin’s eyes widened. “Are we getting down now?”

“Yes, sweetheart,” you said, your own relief evident in your voice. “We’re getting down.”

The descent felt excruciatingly slow, but eventually, the children's carts snd then yours reached the bottom. The ride operator opened the gate, and you practically leaped out, eager to feel the ground under your feet again.

“Hanbin!” you called, rushing to your son immediately. He jumped into your arms without hesitation, his small body clinging to you tightly.

“You did so good, baby,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’m so proud of you.”

Hongjoong crouched beside you, ruffling Hanbin’s hair. “Told you you were brave.”

Hanbin looked up at him, his eyes still a little red. “Thanks, Uncle Joong.”

“Anytime, bud,” Hongjoong said with a soft smile.

Minseo and Yena joined you shortly after, both girls looking relieved to see Hanbin was fine again. Luckily, they were almost completely unbothered by the whole ordeal.

After a while, Hongjoong stood up again and let out a sigh. “Alright, no more Ferris wheels today. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” you said, still holding Hanbin close.

“Can we do the bumper cars instead?” Hanbin asked, his big eyes looking up at you.

You exchanged a glance with Hongjoong, both of you smiling.

“Bumper cars it is,” he said. The girls also agreed without hesitation. It seemed like none of you could say no to Hanbin right now.

“Pretty eventful day, huh?” Hongjoong said quietly, careful not to disturb the sleeping kids in the backseat. He shifted slightly, leaning his head against the window as you drove through the quiet streets.

“That’s one way to put it,” you replied, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “I’m still trying to figure out how Hanbin managed to hit me in the back of the head during that water gun game.”

Hongjoong chuckled. “That kid’s got good aim when it counts. Though I’m pretty sure Minseo was going for me the whole time.”

“Probably,” you said with a grin. “She told me earlier you were her ‘biggest threat.’ You should be honored.”

“Honored? I’m terrified,” he teased, leaning his head back. “She’s ruthless. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a kid so determined to win.”

“She gets it from me,” you admitted, glancing over at him briefly. “I may have had a bit of a competitive streak when I was her age, remember?”

“‘May have’?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Remember when we sneaked out to the arcane the day we had that exam? You were so determined to beat me in every fucking game we stayed so much longer than we intended to!”

You laughed, shaking your head at that memory. “Guilty as charged, Mr. Kim.”

He just rolled his eyes, so you focused on the road again. Your thoughts drifted back to the rest of the day, and you smiled fondly.

After the Ferris wheel and the bumper cars, the kids had insisted on trying out the water guns game. Hanbin had been determined to win a prize, his small hands gripping the water gun tightly as he aimed at the moving targets. Despite his best efforts, it was Minseo who ended up winning, much to his dismay. She’d teased him mercilessly until Yena stepped in, offering to share the plush dolphin she’d won earlier, which made Hanbin so happy he didn't leave the poor girl alone the whole time.

Then there was the roller coaster, which had been Minseo and Yena’s idea. Hanbin had been hesitant at first, clutching your hand tightly as you all waited in line, but his nervousness quickly turned into excitement once the ride began. You could still hear the sound of his laughter as the cart climbed to the top of the track, followed by his delighted screams as it rushed down the steep drop. Minseo and Yena had their hands in the air the whole time, having the time of their lives, while you and Hongjoong tried your best not to get nauseous. By the time the ride was over, Hanbin was begging to go again.

And, of course, there was the faithful cotton candy fiasco. Hanbin had managed to get more of the sticky treat on his face than in his mouth, and Yena had accidentally dropped hers, resulting in a brief meltdown that was only solved when Hongjoong offered to share his. The sight of him holding a piece of pink fluff out to his daughter, being all dramatic he'd had to share, was one you’d never forget.

“Hey,” Hongjoong said suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts. “You’re smiling. What’s on your mind?”

“Hm? Just… the whole day, I guess,” you admitted. “The kids were so happy today.”

“They were,” he agreed, a huge smile on his face. “And you? Were you happy?”

You glanced over at him, surprised by the question. “I… yeah, I think I was. It’s been a while since I’ve felt that way. Hyunwoo didn't cross my mind once today, which is… good. Surprising, but good.”

Hongjoong didn’t respond right away, his gaze fixed on the passing streetlights. “You know,” he said quietly, breaking the silence, “I don’t think I thought about Minji once today, either.”

You swallowed hard, gripping the steering wheel tighter for a moment before forcing yourself to relax. “That’s a first, huh?” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “A good one.”

Neither of you said anything else after that. You focused on the road ahead, the familiar curve of the driveway to your holiday house coming into view. As you pulled in, the headlights swept across the front porch, casting soft light onto the porch. You parked and turned off the engine, plunging the car into silence.

You sat there for a moment, staring straight ahead, your hands still resting on the steering wheel. The only sound was the faint snoring of the kids in the backseat.

And then, before you could think twice about it, the words tumbled out of your mouth. “Sometimes, I wish I married you instead of Hyunwoo.”

The moment the words left your mouth, your breath caught in your throat, and your hands immediately tightened their grip on the steering wheel. It felt as though the world around you had frozen, the silence inside the car growing impossibly heavy. You didn’t dare look at Hongjoong, but you could feel his gaze on you - intense, and just as shocked as you felt.

You hadn’t meant to say it. You hadn’t even consciously thought about it until the words were out in the open, hanging between you like a live wire. Your heart pounded in your chest, your pulse so loud in your ears that it drowned out everything else. 

What the hell had you just done?

Hongjoong finally broke the silence, staring at you with wide eyes. “You… you wish you married me?”

His tone wasn’t accusatory, but it wasn’t indifferent, either. It was soft, uncertain, like he was trying to wrap his head around what you’d just admitted. And that made it even worse, because now you had to confront the weight of what you’d said - what you’d always been too afraid to acknowledge.

“I…” You swallowed hard, shaking your head slightly as you stared down at your lap. “I don’t know why I said that. I didn’t mean to- it just-” You stopped yourself, closing your eyes as you tried to organize the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions raging inside you.

The truth was, you didn’t know how to feel about it. For twenty years, you’d been with Hyunwoo. And yes, those years had been difficult -especially toward the end - but they hadn’t all been bad. There was a time when you’d loved him deeply, when you’d believed he was the person you were supposed to spend your life with. The early years of your marriage had been filled with so much laughter, passion, and the kind of love that made you feel like you could take on anything together.

But as the years passed, things had gradually changed. The love you’d once shared had been replaced by resentment and silence, by arguments that left you feeling more alone than ever. And yet, even then, you’d held onto the memories of what you used to have, convincing yourself that if you just tried hard enough, you could get it all back.

And through it all, through 20 years of life and hardships, there was Hongjoong. Your best friend, your confidant, the one person who seemed to understand you even when you didn’t understand yourself. He was always there. But you never let yourself think of him as anything more than a friend - not really. Maybe in your early teenage years you were crushing on him, but after that, you buried these thoughts deep within you. Because to admit that would have meant facing the fact that something was missing in your marriage. And you weren’t ready to face that. Not then.

But now… now you were free. And so was he. And suddenly, the barriers you’d spent so long building between you were starting to crumble.

“I loved Hyunwoo,” you said finally, your voice trembling slightly. “I did. At least… at the start, I did. I loved him enough to marry him, to build a life with him. But somewhere along the way, it just… it stopped working. And I tried so hard to fix it, to make it better, but-” You paused, letting out a shaky breath. “But I think, deep down, I always knew there was something missing.”

Hongjoong didn’t say anything, but you could feel him listening intently, just like he always did.

“And you…” You hesitated, finally forcing yourself to meet his gaze. His eyes were wide, vulnerable in a way you’d rarely seen. “You’ve always been there, Joong. Even when I didn’t deserve it. Even when I was too blind or too stubborn to see it. And I don’t know… I don’t know what that means. I don’t know if it means anything at all. But today, for the first time in years, I felt happy. Really, genuinely happy. And when I think about why…” You trailed off, your throat tightening as tears threatened to spill. “It’s you.”

You felt like you’d just stripped yourself bare in front of him. You didn’t know what you were expecting - anger, confusion, maybe even rejection - but what you saw in his eyes was none of those things.

Instead, there was a genuine smile on his face.

And maybe… just maybe… hope in his eyes.

“You’re not the only one who felt that today,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the heavy emotions in his eyes. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, about you, since… since forever, if I’m being honest. But I never wanted to say anything because I didn’t want to ruin what we have. I didn’t want to make things harder for you.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you could feel the tears slipping down your cheeks now, no matter how hard you tried to hold them back. “Joong…”

“Don’t cry,” he said gently, reaching out to brush a tear away with his thumb. “I’m not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.”

You leaned into his touch for a moment, your eyes fluttering shut as you tried to absorb his words. His warmth, his love, it all made you feel like you could breathe again. 

But then, reality set in.

“I don’t… I don't think I’m ready,” you admitted, your voice trembling as the emotions began to spill out. “As much as I would like to… I just... Joong, I’ve never told you everything about how bad it really was… with Hyunwoo.”

His expression shifted, anger taking over his features, but he didn’t say anything, letting you speak at your own pace.

“I thought I could handle it, you know? At first, it wasn’t so bad. He wasn’t so bad. But over the years, it just… it wore me down. The way he spoke to me, the way he made me feel like I wasn’t good enough, like everything I did was wrong. And when he wasn’t yelling, it was worse. The silence, the distance, the way he looked at me like I was a burden he had to put up with. It broke me, Joong. He broke me...”

Your voice cracked on the last word, and you pressed a hand to your mouth, trying to hold back the sob that was threatening to escape. But it was useless. The tears were flowing freely now, and you couldn’t stop them.

Hongjoong’s hand moved to cover yours, gently pulling it away from your face so he could see you fully. “You don’t have to explain everything now,” he said softly, his eyes filled with a pain that mirrored your own. “But I’m here. I’m here to listen, whenever you’re ready.”

You nodded, taking a shaky breath before continuing. “I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m still trying to figure it out, to pick up the pieces of who I used to be before him. And the kids… they need me to be strong for them, to focus on them. Especially now that Hyunwoo decided to completely ghost them. I don’t know if I can do this- if I can handle anything more. I’m scared, Joong. Scared of messing it all up again.”

“Hey,” he said, his voice steady but full of emotion. “You didn’t mess anything up. He did. And you don’t have to figure it all out right now. There’s no rush, no pressure. I’ll wait, okay? As long as it takes. I’ll wait.”

The sincerity in his voice was almost too much to bear, and the guilt that had been clawing at your chest finally broke free. “I don’t deserve this,” you whispered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes, you do,” he said firmly, his hands cupping your face now, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You deserve so much more than what you’ve been given. And I’ll remind you of that every single day until you believe it.”

The dam inside you broke completely then, and you collapsed into his arms, sobbing against his chest. You cried for all the pain you’d endured, for the years you’d lost, for your children, for yourself.

Hongjoong held you through it all, his arms wrapped tightly around you without letting go of you. For the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to let go, to be vulnerable, knowing that he would catch you if you fell.

The sound of a small, groggy voice broke through the fragile bubble you and Hongjoong had created.

"Mommy?"

You pulled back from Hongjoong’s embrace quickly, wiping your cheeks with trembling hands. Turning toward the voice, you saw Hanbin rubbing his eyes sleepily.

“Why are you crying?” he mumbled, and even though he was extremely tired he still looked worried.

Your heart clenched at the sight of him. Forcing a smile onto your face, you reached back to gently brush his hair out of his eyes.

“I’m okay, sweetheart,” you whispered softly, your voice steady despite the lump still lodged in your throat. “Mommy just got a little emotional, that’s all. But everything’s fine.”

Hanbin blinked up at you, his small brow furrowing as if he wasn’t entirely convinced. His gaze flickered to Hongjoong for a moment, who offered him a reassuring smile and a gentle, “Your mom’s right, bud. Everything’s okay.”

That seemed to settle him, and he nodded sleepily, already leaning his head back against the car seat. “Okay…” he murmured, his eyes fluttering shut once more.

You let out a shaky breath, relief washing over you as his breathing evened out again. He had worn himself out so much it only took him a few seconds to fall asleep again.

Hongjoong reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Come on,” he said quietly. “Let’s get them inside.”

You nodded, unbuckling your seatbelt and stepping out of the car. The cool night air helped clear your mind a bit as you moved to open the back door. Hongjoong had already scooped Hanbin up into his arms, the boy barely stirring as he settled against him.

“I’ll grab Minseo,” you whispered, glancing over at your daughter, who was curled up in her seat with her head resting on Yena’s shoulder.

Hongjoong nodded and waited for you to unbuckle Minseo before he began carrying Hanbin toward the house. You gently shook Minseo awake, and her eyes fluttered open, a sleepy protest escaping her lips.

“Come on, sweetheart,” you said softly, helping her out of the car. “We’re home now. Let’s get you to bed.”

Minseo mumbled something incoherent but allowed you to guide her toward the house, her steps slow and heavy with exhaustion.

Once you got her inside and tucked into bed, you found Hongjoong already settling Yena under the covers on the pull out bed in the living room. He looked up as you entered, his expression softening as your eyes met.

“All good?” he asked quietly, his voice low to avoid waking the kids.

You nodded, leaning against the doorframe for a moment as you watched him adjust the blanket over his daughter. “Yeah. They’re out like lights.”

“Same here,” he said, stepping back from Yena’s bed and joining you in the hallway.

Quietly, you left, and then after changing and washing up, the two of you settled into your shared bed. It wasn’t the first time you’d shared this space, but tonight, it felt impossibly intimate.

Hongjoong turned slightly to face you, his head resting against the pillow as he studied you quietly. You mirrored his position, your bodies close enough that your knees brushed beneath the covers. His gaze was soft, tender in a way that made your heart ache.

Neither of you spoke at first, your eyes saying so much more than words ever could. Tentatively, your fingers reached out, brushing against his cheek before moving to trace the bridge of his nose, the curve of his jaw. His skin was warm beneath your touch, and he didn’t pull away. Instead, he lifted his hand to do the same, his fingers trailing along the delicate lines of your face as though he were memorizing every detail.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, and the sincerity in his tone made your chest tighten.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head slightly. “I think you might need your eyes checked.”

“I don’t,” he replied firmly, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. “I mean it.”

His words, his touch, they were overwhelming in the best way. For the first time in years, you didn’t feel the need to deflect, to argue against the kindness being offered to you. Instead, you let yourself lean into it, into him.

You talked about nothing in particular that night, and through it all, the two of you stayed close, your fingers occasionally grazing as you spoke.

It felt like peeling back layers, like rediscovering each other in a way you hadn’t allowed yourselves to before. The sound of his voice, the warmth in his gaze - it all felt like home.

But even as sleep began to claim you both, neither of you moved away. Your hands remained loosely clasped between you, a silent promise that whatever tomorrow might bring, tonight, you were exactly where you needed to be.

The rest of the week went by quickly.

One of the other highlights was a trip to a nature trail nestled on the outskirts of town. The path wound through towering trees seemed to engulf you fully. The kids ran ahead, giggling as they pointed out interesting flowers, squirrels darting up trees, and the occasional butterfly flitting across the path. Yena and Minseo took turns being the “trail guides,” holding a small map they’d gotten from the trail’s entrance and excitedly directing the group to scenic spots. 

And more often than not, the girls managed to get you all lost.

Hongjoong walked beside you, Hanbin perched on his shoulders after growing tired. “You’re taller than everyone now,” Hongjoong teased, and Hanbin let out a delighted squeal, spreading his arms like wings.

The hike led to a clearing where a stream ran through the woods, its water crystal clear. Yena and Minseo quickly shed their shoes to splash around, their laughter carrying through the forest. Hanbin joined them with a little help from Hongjoong, who rolled up his pants and stepped into the cool water with him. You sat on the bank, watching them and taking a few pictures of the scenery.

On your last day, the five of you visited a local berry farm for some hands-on fun. Buckets in hand, you and the kids wandered through rows of lush bushes heavy with ripe berries. Minseo and Yena turned it into a friendly competition, seeing who could pick the most, while Hanbin focused on eating the fruits as much as collecting them. Hongjoong stayed by his side, laughing at his enthusiasm and sneaking berries for himself when he thought no one was looking.

When everyone had their fill, you gathered under a shaded pavilion to rest. As the sun dipped lower in the sky, and all of you made yourselves comfortable on the picnic blankets you brought along, the kids started pointing out cloud shapes and sharing silly stories. Hongjoong stretched out beside you, his hand resting near yours, his thumb occasionally brushing your knuckles. It was a small, quiet moment, but it felt like the perfect end to a perfect day.

By the end of the week, everyone was pleasantly worn out, and when you packed up and left your holiday home, the children were already begging to come back next summer.

Now that you were back home, everyday life slowly returned. School had started again, and while Minseo was doing fine, Hanbin still needed your help here and there and so, everyday after work, you spent your time helping him with his homework and studies. 

That, of course, also meant that you didn’t see Hongjoong much right now. Because that's the only reason, and not that you were internally freaking out about your confession and what it would mean for your future. You couldn’t explain it - not fully - but the vulnerability you’d allowed yourself that night now felt like too much, too raw. So, little by little, you began to withdraw, telling yourself it was for the best.

It started with excuses. When he knocked on your door, asking if you and the kids wanted to join him and Yena for a simple dinner or a walk to the park, you’d smile apologetically, citing exhaustion from work or chores that couldn’t wait. You kept conversations at the threshold brief, always steering them toward neutral topics and away from anything personal.

You avoided lingering in shared spaces. The mornings when you’d normally sip coffee together on the porch turned into rushed cups at the kitchen counter, your eyes trained on the clock. Even in the evenings, when the kids played together in the backyard, you made excuses to stay inside, watching them from the window instead.

But Hongjoong noticed. Of course he noticed. His subtle attempts to meet your eyes lingered longer, and the warmth in his smile dimmed slightly when you looked away too quickly. He didn’t push, didn’t confront you, and that made the distance feel even heavier.

Minseo, after making up with Yena on the trip and also blissfully unaware of the undercurrent between you and Hongjoong, continued spending time with Yena as much as possible. 

It wasn’t that you wanted to pull away. If anything, every fiber of your being longed for the comfort of his presence, the steady assurance and love he offered without asking for anything in return. But that was what terrified you the most - that if you allowed yourself to lean on him too much, you might not find the strength to stand on your own again. And deep down, you feared that he might realize you weren’t as deserving as he insisted you were.

And so, for the first time since you had known Hongjoong, you let the walls between you grow taller. What you didn’t expect was just how much it would hurt.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when the school bus arrived before your house. You adjusted Hanbin’s backpack, bending down to plant a kiss on his forehead before ushering him toward the bus. Minseo followed, waving to you briefly before stepping up onto the bus.

“Have a good day!” you called after them. Hanbin turned to wave one last time before disappearing inside.

Of course your gaze drifted - inevitably - toward the house next door. Yena was climbing onto the bus herself, her dark hair swishing as she waved to Hongjoong, who stood on his porch, hands in his pockets.

Your breath hitched slightly when your eyes met his. He didn’t smile, didn’t offer the soft warmth you were used to. Instead, there was something hard in his gaze, a frustration simmering just beneath the surface. His jaw was tight, and though his stance was relaxed, there was no mistaking the tension in his shoulders.

You froze, uncertain whether to look away or acknowledge him. But he made the decision for you, stepping off his porch and striding toward your house with a deliberate calm that made your stomach twist.

“Good morning,” he said, his tone clipped. 

“Morning,” you replied, your voice barely audible. You took a half-step back, feeling cornered even though he stood a few feet away.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” he asked, cutting straight to the point. His gaze didn’t waver, and there was no softness in his expression now, just concern tinged with a mix of anger.

You swallowed hard, trying to muster an excuse, but the words caught in your throat. “I don’t know what you mean,” you said finally. You quickly glanced towards your front door. “I-I should really get to the dishes,” you stammered, taking a step back into your house. Your hand gripped the door, your knuckles white as you forced a tight smile. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

Before he could respond, you shut the door firmly, the sound of it slamming echoing in the quiet of the morning. You didn’t wait, immediately turning toward the kitchen, heart racing as you tried to escape the weight of his gaze.

But before you could take more than a few steps, the door burst open behind you, and you froze in your steps.

“Seriously?” Hongjoong’s voice was sharp as the door clicked shut behind him again. His footsteps were heavy and fast as he strode into the house.

You spun around, your stomach twisting. “Hongjoong, I-”

“No.” He didn’t stop, didn’t falter as he crossed the space between you in a matter of moments. “You don’t get to slam the door in my face like that.”

“Hongjoong, please, I just-”

“No.” Hongjoong’s voice cut through the room like steel, his gaze unwavering as he stopped just a step away from you. “You don’t get to shut me out like that.”

“Hongjoong, please,” you said, voice trembling. “I just need space.”

He tilted his head, studying you. “Space?” His voice softened, and his eyes pleaded with you. “I promised I would wait, but you're completely avoiding me, Y/N!”

You didn’t answer, eyes darting to the floor as heat rose to your cheeks. The weight of his frustration was overwhelming, but what unnerved you the most was the love that was still so evident in his eyes despite his anger.

“Y/N,” he said, voice quieter now but no less firm. “I’m not going to let you do this. Not to yourself. Not to me.”

You tried to step around him, muttering something incoherent about really needing to finish the dishes. But before you could take another step, his hand shot out, fingers curling gently but firmly around your wrist.

“You want to do the dishes?” His voice dropped low, and your whole body shuddered. “Fine. Let’s do the dishes.”

Before you could protest, he guided you to the sink, standing close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him. He released your wrist, his hands instead resting lightly on your waist, his fingers pressing into the softness there. You stiffened, but he didn’t move away.

"Go on," he said, his voice low. "Start washing."

Your hands trembled as you reached for a plate, the silence between you heavy. You couldn’t focus - the way he was standing behind you, his chest pressed against your back, his hands on your hips made you spiral.

His breath was warm against your ear as he leaned closer. His hands stayed firm on your waist, grounding you, but it was the brush of his lips against the side of your neck that made you freeze entirely.

“Hongjoong…” you whispered, your voice trembling. You weren’t even sure if it was a plea for him to stop or to continue.

“I’m here, Y/N,” he murmured softly, his voice low and steady. “I’ve always been here. But please, just talk to me…”

The tenderness in his tone broke something inside you. His lips grazed your neck again, this time lingering longer, and an involuntary shudder ran through you. You clenched the dish you were holding.

When he kissed just below your ear, a soft, choked sound escaped your throat. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you let the plate fall back into the sink with a clatter, your hands gripping the edge of the counter for support.

“Hey…” His voice was alarmed now, and his hands quickly moved to your shoulders, turning you around to face him. The tears spilling down your cheeks made his expression soften, his anger dissolving into concern. “Y/N, talk to me.”

You wiped at your face quickly, embarrassed, but the tears wouldn’t stop. “I’m sorry,” you managed, shaking your head. “I just- I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to let you in without ruining everything.”

He frowned, his hands cupping your face gently. “You’re not going to ruin anything. Why do you think that?”

A shaky laugh escaped you, more bitter than you intended. “Because we’ve been friends for over twenty years, Hongjoong. What if we mess this up? What if we can’t go back to being… us? I can’t lose you, too.”

His thumbs brushed away the tears on your cheeks, his gaze unwavering. “Y/N, we’ve survived every other challenge life has thrown at us. We’ll survive this, too. I want to be with you, and that feeling will never stop.”

You wanted to believe him, you really did. 

He studied your face for a long moment, his gaze softening. “There’s something else bothering you, right?” His voice was gentle, coaxing. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out. You felt the lump in your throat tighten, threatening to choke you. 

“It's… it's actually so dumb,” you laughed bitterly, but Hongjoong immediately shook his head. 

“Is this about Hyunwoo? What did he tell you?” he asked, his voice softer now. “Whatever it is he put on you. Whatever he made you believe about yourself.” His hands slid to your hips, holding you firmly. “I’m telling you, Y/N, he was wrong.”

“Hongjoong,” you whispered, gripping the edge of the counter, “you don’t understand-”

“No, I think I do.” His voice was rough, but his touch gentle as he leaned closer. “Don’t think about him. Don’t let him take up another second of your thoughts. He doesn’t know how to appreciate a real woman.”

You froze at his words, tears prickling at your eyes. Of course he immediately knew what you were thinking about. “I’m not... I’m not who I was 20 years ago, Hongjoong. I’m not-”

“Of course you’re not,” he interrupted, his hands squeezing your full hips. “You’re not supposed to be. You’re a woman. A damn beautiful one, for fuck’s sake.”

His words broke something inside you, a sob escaping before you could hold it back. He didn’t hesitate, pulling you against him as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you as if he could shield you from every doubt, every insecurity that had ever plagued you.

“You don’t have to be perfect,” he murmured against your temple. “You’re enough, just as you are. And I swear to you, I’ll spend as long as it takes proving that to you.”

“I'm sorry for being so childish,” you mumbled into his chest, which made him chuckle a little.

“It's fine. Just don't do it again, okay? Also,” he took a step back, and you immediately missed his arms around you, “we don't have to make anything official yet. It's just you and me. No labels matter, because they won't even come close to describe the love I have for you anyways.”

“I want to take care of you,” he murmured. “Let me take care of you. We have a few hours until the children are back. Do you… I mean… if you want, of course-”

God, the way he was struggling for words made you break out into laughter, which in turn made his entire face turn a deep shade of red. You took his hand, squeezing it carefully. 

“I… I feel better now that I told you. So, if you want…”

-Of course I want!”

You giggled. “Then… bedroom?”

He didn't even nod, just pulled you out of the kitchen, up the stairs and into your bedroom. As soon as the door closed behind him, he wrapped his arms around you again, this time more possessively, as if he wanted to make sure no one else would be able to see you or touch you.

His hands cupped your face, and then his lips were on yours. It was a kiss that held more promises than a thousand words.

It was the kind of kiss that made you feel safe and loved, and it was the kind of kiss that made the doubts you had previously had about him dissipate instantly.

Hongjoong kissed you as if his life depended on it, and the way his tongue moved against yours made a shiver run down your spine.

“Do you have any toys?” He suddenly asked. 

“H-huh?” You blushed, remembering the hidden box of unused toys you indeed had but never used, because Hyunwoo never wanted to. And after your divorce, you kind of forgot about it anyway.

“I- well, I do. But-”

He didn't let you finish. Instead, he grabbed your hand and led you to the bed, where he made you sit.

“You can just tell me, and I'll bring them here. I'll show you how much fun it can be.”

Your stomach twisted nervously, and you looked down, your cheeks burning.

“Y/N,” he carefully said, kneeling down before you. “I want to worship you. I want to use the toys on you if you'd like that. So, tell me, do you want me to use them on you?”

You swallowed hard, still unable to look up.

“Y/N, hey,” he said softly, taking your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “We can wait, we don't have to-”

“N-no,” you quickly said, looking up and into his eyes. “It's not that I don't want to. I'm just a bit scared, and also-”

“Scared?” His brow furrowed. “Why would you be scared, darling?”

“Because I've never used them. I-I don't know how they work. Or-”

He gave a little smile. “I'll show you. I'm sure it'll be a lot of fun."”

“I-okay…”

“You're sure?”

"Y-yeah."

Hongjoong placed a soft kiss on your forehead, then got up and left the room. You watched him, biting your lower lip nervously.

When he came back, he had your big, white box in his hands, and his grin widened as he opened it.

“I see, my girl likes plugs, hm?”

You blushed, looking away again. “I've never tried them.”

“But you would like to try it, right?”

You nodded slowly, and the next thing you knew, Hongjoong was straddling your lap.

“Do you want to try them right now, babygirl?”

Your breath hitched in your throat, and the pet name made heat pool in your stomach.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Good,” he breathed, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your neck. “Now, I'd love to see you try these. Which ones do you think you'll like the most, sweetheart?”

You didn't know what to say, so you pointed to a pink plug, and Hongjoong smiled.

“That looks like a good one. We'll use this, and this,” he reached for a vibrator. “I'm sure we'll have a lot of fun.”

With a quick movement, he took your shirt off, and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you hadn't worn a bra today.

“Fuck, you're so hot,” Hongjoong murmured, his gaze hungrily roaming your body. 

“'M not,” you murmured, “I gained too much weight…”

He silenced you with a kiss. “You're beautiful,” he said, his hand resting on your thigh. “And I can't wait to make you feel good.”

With that, he stood up again, and walked towards the bedside table. “Is your lube in here?”

You nodded shyly. “It is.” Hongjoong opened the drawer quickly and pulled out said bottle of lube.

“You can relax now,” he murmured. “Let me take care of you, darling.”

 He helped you lie down, and then started working your pants open. Soon, you were only wearing your panties, and Hongjoong couldn't keep his eyes off your curves.

“Fuck, I love your body,” he breathed. “You're so fucking sexy, Y/N.”

You flushed, biting your lip. “Really?”

“Of course. I thought you were pretty when we were 16, but now... you're so much more than that.”

His hand brushed along your side, making you shudder. Hongjoong started to trail soft kisses down your body. Your belly, your hips, and finally, the waistband of your panties.

“Can I take these off?”

You nodded again, and he pulled your underwear down slowly.

“Look at you,” he murmured. “You're dripping already, aren't you, princess?”

“I-i’m so wet for you,” you whined, and his eyes lit up.

“So needy already, babygirl.”

He pushed your legs apart, his thumb brushing along your slit, and the sensation made you gasp.

“You're so sensitive,” he said, “I love it.”

He started rubbing slow circles on your clit, and you could feel the heat building up in your stomach already.

“Are you already close, babygirl?”

You nodded, biting your lip.

“Well, don't hold back,” he murmured, leaning down.

And then, his tongue was on your clit, making you moan. You could feel his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud, and his hand moved down to tease at your entrance.

“Fuck, Hongjoong, please,” you whined.

“So needy,” Hongjoong purred. “Do you want my fingers, sweetheart?”

“Please!”

“What's the magic word?” You blushed at his dirty words. Hearing him talk like that for the first time did some unspeakable things to you.

“P-please, Hongjoong, I want your fingers!”

You were rewarded with two of his fingers entering you, and you moaned at the stretch.

“O-oh, fuck,” you gasped.

“You're doing so well,” he murmured, starting to thrust his fingers into you.

His mouth went back to sucking on your clit, his tongue lapping at the sensitive nub. He kept fingerfucking you, his fingers hitting just the right spot, and soon, you felt the familiar feeling building up in your core. You haven't had an orgasm in so long, so it was overwhelming you in the best way possible. 

“You can cum for me, princess,” Hongjoong encouraged, his tongue swirling around your clit. “Cum for me, Y/N.”

You moaned loudly, your back arching as your orgasm washed over you.

He didn't stop his movements, and you whined at the overstimulation. 

“Come on, babygirl,” Hongjoong said. “Cum for me once more. You can do that for me, can't you?”

“I-i can't, please!” You cried out, and he started fingering you even harder, his tongue still teasing your clit.

“That's it, Y/N,” he breathed. “Cum for me, baby.”

The sensation was overwhelming, and soon, you felt another orgasm building up, and you moaned, throwing your head back as pleasure washed over you once more.

Hongjoong pulled his fingers out, making you whimper.

“Are you alright, princess?” He asked softly.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath.

“How about we use the toys now, hm?”

He grabbed the pink plug, and poured some lube onto it.

“Can you stay on all fours for me, darling?”

You nodded, turning around and getting on all fours.

“Look at you, being such a good girl for me,” Hongjoong murmured, and the praise made a shiver run down your spine.

On one hand, it was weird hearing your best friend of 20 years say such filthy things to you, but on the other hand... it was kind of hot.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?”

“Please.”

You felt the cool plug teasing your entrance, and the tip slowly slid into you.

“How does that feel?”

“G-good,” you gasped.

“Tell me if it's too much, okay?”

“I will.”

“You're doing so well,” he breathed. “Do you want me to fuck you with it?”

“Y-yes,” you gasped.

“Good.”

Hongjoong started pushing the plug deeper into you, and the sensation made you moan. The toy was bigger than his fingers, and it stretched you open deliciously.

“Do you like that, princess?”

“So fucking good,” you moaned. “B-but... I wanna do something for you too, Joongie. Please?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice low and rough. "”What do you have in mind?”

You bit your lip. You were embarrassed, but you needed him. You wanted to pleasure him.

“I wanna suck you off.”

He all but whined at that, and a deep blush crept up his neck.

You crawled off the bed, and Hongjoong sat down on the edge, his hands immediately running through your hair.

“You don't have to, Y/N. This is supposed to be about you.”

“I know. But I want to.”

Hongjoong's breath hitched in his throat, and he nodded.

“O-okay.”

You got down on your knees before him, and you started working his jeans open. His bulge was straining against his underwear, and you couldn't help but feel flattered that you did that to him.

“You're so hard,” you mumbled, and Hongjoong let out a groan.

“I won't last long,” he warned.

“It's fine,” you giggled.

You pulled his boxers down, and his erection sprung free, and god, it was definitely bigger than you'd imagined. Because yes, you did think about your best friend's dick before.

“Are you really sure?”

“Oh, I definitely am.”

With that, you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the tip.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he panted. “Just like that, sweetheart.”

You swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, and Hongjoong's grip on your hair tightened.

“Goddamn it,” he breathed. “D-don't stop.”

You started bobbing your head, sucking harder as you did. You felt Hongjoong's grip on your hair tighten, and the sounds he was making only spurred you on.

“So good, Y/N, just like that,” he moaned, and his praises only encouraged you more. You sucked harder, taking him deeper into your mouth, and you heard him moaning louder.

“I-I'm gonna cum, baby,” he gasped. “Where do you want me to cum?”

You couldn't reply, so instead, you just kept bobbing your head. You sucked him harder and harder, and then, you felt him twitch inside your mouth.

“Y/N!”

He came with a moan, and you swallowed all of it, the salty taste lingering on your tongue.

Hongjoong's grip on your hair relaxed.

“Fuck, Y/N, that was amazing,” he gasped.

You gave him a smile, and stood up.

“Did I make you feel good?” You asked, and Hongjoong grinned.

“Fuck yes you did.” Hongjoong leaned toward the bed, grabbing the vibrator. “Let's have some more fun with this, yeah? After all,” he looked at the clock and smirked, “the kids won't be home for a few more hours.”

24th of december, 2024.

The smell of cookies and gingerbread filled the air, the Christmas lights twinkled, and the golden ornaments were shimmering in the warm glow.

Hanbin and Yena were sitting on the floor, playing with the new dolls Hanbin had gotten for Christmas. Minseo was lounging on the couch, listening to music, and Hongjoong was helping you in the kitchen.

You couldn't help but smile to yourself, watching how Yena was listening intensely to Hanbin explaining to her how she should play with the new toys. You didn't even mind that they were a little too loud, and the sound of their voices blended with the music coming from Minseo's phone, creating a comfortable and cozy atmosphere.

“They're so cute,” Hongjoong said, handing you a mug of cocoa, “almost like real siblings.”

“I know,” you smiled, taking a sip.

Hongjoong wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, and kissed the top of your head.

It had been an intense few months. A lot of things had changed; of course, there was your relationship with Hongjoong, going from lifelong friends to partners. 

You had told the kids pretty early on, and they had taken it surprisingly well. You had expected more confusion and maybe some questions, but in the end, all three of them had been delighted. Minseo's response had been a simple shrug, stating she already knew, which made you laugh. And Hanbin was already telling everyone who would listen that he now had two sisters.

But unfortunately, these had been the only good news for the kids. By now, their father had completely cut contact with the children after ghosting them the whole summer. You still remembered how Minseo and Hanbin broke down as you had to tell them, crying in your arms for hours and hours on end. His complete disappearance over the summer had left a hole in the kids' hearts that was hard to fill, and the court battle that followed only seemed to make everything worse. You could still hear their voices in your head - the way Hanbin had asked, tearfully, if he'd done something wrong to make his father leave, or how Minseo, after months of letting her anger out on you and refusing to open herself, had quietly broken down, asking what it was that made her father stop loving her. Those were the moments that hurt the most, when you couldn’t find the right words to reassure them.

It was clear Hyunwoo wanted nothing to do with his responsibilities, as if he was trying to sever all ties, not just with you, but with his children as well. His refusal to pay any child support only added salt to the wound, a constant reminder of how little he cared. The court proceedings felt like they stretched on endlessly, but it was the emotional toll on Minseo and Hanbin that made everything feel worse. You tried to keep it together for them, but there were days when you just didn’t know how to shield them from the hurt any longer.

And then there was Hongjoong’s side of things, which wasn’t any easier. Though Minji had remained in contact with Yena, it wasn’t without its complications. Yena had always looked up to her mother, but since the truth came out about her affair Yena’s world had been turned upside down. Every time Yena visited her mother, she couldn't stay long, because seeing her mother with that man she had hurt her father with hurt her a lot. And though Minji tried to maintain some semblance of normalcy, the tension between them never completely faded away.

Hongjoong's lips found their way to yours, and you sighed into the kiss. 

“You're thinking about something negative again,” he murmured. “Its Christmas, Y/N. You and the kids should be happy today.” 

You smiled, stealing another quick kiss from him. Just a few years earlier, you had never thought about kissing your best friend, but it had turned out to be one of the best things you'd ever experienced. He was so gentle, and his touch always sent shivers down your spine.

“I know,” you whispered against his lips, still savoring the warmth of his kiss. “It’s just hard not to think about everything, you know? Especially when I see the kids still hurting so much.”

Hongjoong nodded, his hands resting gently on your waist. “I get it,” he murmured, “but today is about us. The kids are happy, we’re happy. Let's just celebrate today.”

Then, Hanbin’s voice caught both your attention. “Mom! Uncle Hongjoong!” He called out, looking up from the dolls as his little face lit up. 

You exchanged a smile with Hongjoong before both of you headed toward the kids. They were gathered around the tree, eagerly waiting for you both to join them. Hanbin was bouncing on his heels, his small hands clutching something behind his back, while both Yena and Minseo exchanged glances with each other.

“What’s going on, little man?” Hongjoong asked, kneeling down beside Hanbin. The little boy grinned wide, clearly too excited to wait any longer.

“Close your eyes!” Hanbin instructed, and Hongjoong and you exchanged amused looks before doing as told. Both of you waited in silence as Hanbin scurried to the side, the rustling of paper and soft giggles filling the air.

"Okay, open them!" Hanbin’s voice rang out, and you opened your eyes to see him holding a small, carefully wrapped box. Minseo stood beside him, and she had a shy, almost nervous smile on her face as well.

Hongjoong blinked in surprise as he took the box, lifting it gently and peeling back the wrapping. It was a small, hand-painted mug with a simple design - stars and a moon. The kind of mug that felt like it belonged to a cozy winter morning, a mug that would hold the warmth of tea or cocoa on chilly days.

“This is for you, Uncle Hongjoong,” Hanbin said proudly, looking up at him with bright eyes. Yena added, almost quietly, “Thank you for always taking care of Mom and us.”

It was clear that Hongjoong was caught a little off guard. He hadn’t expected anything, and the unexpected kindness from your kids left him momentarily speechless. It was clear that, while they hadn’t yet made a full leap into calling him “Dad,” they had built a bond so much deeper - something that felt like a real family, even if it wasn't your stereotypical one.

Hongjoong took the mug from Hanbin, and embraced both Minseo and Hanbin in a long hug. “Thank you, both of you,” he said. “This means a lot to me.” He looked at you for a moment, his expression tender, before continuing. “You guys are so special to me.”

Yena stood off to the side, quietly watching the exchange between Hongjoong and her new siblings. Her hands were clasped together, fingers wringing nervously as she looked down at the floor for a moment. But as Hongjoong and your kids still continued to talk quietly, she stepped forward, holding something small and neatly wrapped in her hands.

You noticed her then, the soft hesitation in her movements, the way she was trying to come put of her shell. With a gentle smile, you beckoned her closer. "What do you have there, Yena?" you asked.

Yena hesitated, her gaze flicking between you and the others before she stepped forward, placing the small gift in your hands. "I... I wanted to give this to you," she murmured, her voice soft, almost as if she was unsure of your reaction.

You smiled, genuinely touched by her effort, and carefully peeled away the wrapping. Inside was a small, handmade bracelet - delicate and simple, with a charm that resembled a heart and stars hanging from it. It was something you could tell Yena had put a lot of time into making, something personal that she was choosing to give to you.

"It's beautiful, Yena," you said, your heart swelling with affection as you gently took her hand in yours, running your fingers over the bracelet. "Thank you."

Yena's cheeks flushed a little at your words, but there was a small, shy smile tugging at her lips. She looked down at her feet for a moment before her voice broke through the silence once again, this time quieter than before. "I know I don't call you Mom," she started, her words carefully chosen. "And I don't know if I ever will. But I... I want you to know that I'm really happy you're here with us. And that you make Dad happy." She paused, then added, her voice just barely above a whisper, "I love you."

You reached out, pulling her into a hug. Tears prickled in the corner of your eyes, but you blinked them away, a huge smile stealing itself on your lips. Your heart was so full of love it hurt, because you had no idea what to do with so much happiness. 

"I love you too, Yena," you whispered. "And I'm so grateful that we're all together. We may not have started out the way others would have, but this... this is our family now."

You felt her arms tentatively wrap around you, her body slightly stiff at first, but she didn’t pull away. 

Yena stayed in your embrace for a moment longer, her body relaxing into yours as you stood into your living room. You pulled back, smiling at the way she held onto you.

You caught Hongjoong standing nearby, watching the two of you with a fond smile.

“I’m so happy right now,” you whispered, your heart full of emotion as you looked around at the children. “This feels perfect.”

Hongjoong took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "It is," he agreed quietly.

"Come on, let's get a family photo!" Minseo called from the couch, her phone already in hand. Hongjoong, still holding the mug from Hanbin, stood beside you, his arms sliding around your waist. Hanbin jumped up, his little hands tugging at Yena’s sleeve as he excitedly pulled her to the center, his energy contagious. The kids huddled close, everyone laughing and joking as they found their places for the picture.

Minseo stepped forward, positioning herself just behind Hanbin, her phone held high to capture the moment. Hongjoong's arms were firmly around your waist as he stood beside you, his eyes never leaving you, and your heart fluttered at his eyes so full of love

Minseo grinned from behind her phone, adjusting the camera. “Okay, okay, everyone! Say cheese!”

Before anyone could respond, Hongjoong leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. The photo snapped just at that moment, and the last thing you heard was Hanbin’s “Ugh, not again!” as you smiled at the man you thought you’d never end up with, feeling a sense of peace settle over you – like you’d finally found what you didn’t even know you were looking for in the arms of someone who had always been a part of your life, yet somehow, never felt right until now.

[tartagliove]

IN GOOD COMPANY kinich x reader ✧ 1.1k words

"when there's no saurians to hunt, i take on other jobs too. i guess that means we're in the same line of work."

tags ✧ fluff, no pronouns used for reader, clumsy reader, reader and kinich are childhood friends but have feelings for each other.

note ✧ dedicated to @hanaeriin, from your @pixelcafe-network secret santa! i hope you're doing well and are taking care of yourself! i decided to not go down the wintery route for this since i know you don’t celebrate the holidays—hopefully you'll like this little kinich fic ahhh

a huge thank you to @fandomsuggestions for betaing this!

Three sheets of paper hang limply from the commission board. They flutter weakly as a hot breeze blows, which offers little relief from the scorching summer sun and the stifling humidity. You wish you were relaxing at home or cooling off in the river far below the tribe, but you have expenses that need to be paid, so you’re scanning the few available commissions and debating on which one you want to take.

Two of the commissions are straightforward and easy—a package delivery and hilichurl camp clearing—but the reward offered is nowhere near enough to cover your monthly expenses. You look at the third paper, skimming the wall of text that details a long and arduous commission. However, it also displays a reward of Mora with enough zeroes to make your eyes widen. That money would last you through most of next month as well.

It appears as though you will have a lot of traveling and fighting ahead of you. You normally are excited for a commission like this, but in the summer heat? Sighing, you reach for the commission.

A flash of green darts across your vision, snatching the sheet of paper out from beneath your fingers.

You whirl around. “Hey! Give that back, I was– Ajaw. Of course it’s you.”

“That’s Almighty Dragonlord K’uhul Ajaw to you, puny human! How many times–”

Tuning out the floating dragon’s usual rant, you look beyond him at the approaching Saurian hunter. A smile lights up your face. “Kinich!”

The bright sun makes the blue and green shine to his hair more obvious. His gorgeous eyes seem to glow from within as they look from his companion to you. “Morning,” he says, nodding at you in greeting.

You try to ignore the way a shiver runs through you at the sight. “It’s good to see you! Are you looking for a commission to take on, too?” you ask him, pointing toward the commission board that now bears two lonely pieces of paper. “The options aren’t very good.”

“Except for this one!” Ajaw flies between you two, waving the commission you were looking at in front of Kinich’s face. “It’s perfect—days of scaling the sides of mountains, fighting some dangerous creatures, not to mention, I can feel a storm brewing!”

You frown at Ajaw, knowing full well why the dangers of the commission delights him.

Kinich, however, swats the Saurian away with the back of his hand. “Were you planning on taking this?” he asks you.

You nod slowly, but then wave your hands in front of you. “You can take it if you want though! There are two more on the board, I can do those without a problem!” But even the combined pay of those commissions won’t be enough. You wince at the thought.

Kinich catches the expression that flashes across your face. “What is it?”

You hesitate for a moment, but under his steady gaze, give in and confess, “Those commissions don’t offer enough of a reward to cover what I need—even if I take both.”

There is no judgement on his face as he listens, only understanding. He nods when you finish talking, then says Ajaw’s name.

The Saurian darts over, still holding the commission. “You’re gonna pick this one, right? That puny human can’t handle this anyway–“

“Shut up,” Kinich growls, the harshest you’ve heard him in a while. He yanks the paper out of Ajaw’s grasp, then grabs the dragon and chucks him into the sky, where he vanishes with a furious yell.

With Ajaw temporarily gone, Kinich’s face relaxes as he turns his attention back to you. “Here,” he says, handing you the commission. “You had it first, you take it. I know you have the skills to see it through to the end.”

His vote of confidence warms you from within, washing away any sting Ajaw’s words had evoked. “Thank you, Kinich.” You accept the paper from him with a soft smile. “I hope you’ll find something good to take on yourself.”

He nods, strands of hair shifting from the movement. “Don’t worry about me. Focus on your commission.”

“Yes, sir!” you respond with a giggle. “Well then, I need to get ready for the job. When I’m back, we should catch up sometime! It’s been a while since we’ve hung out. I missed it- missed you,” you add on, a bit shy at the admission.

“That would be nice,” Kinich says. By his tone, you can tell he is sincere, so you can’t stop the grin from growing across your face.

“Alright then, I’ll see you around! Bye, Kinich!”

You turn and walk away, leaving the Saurian hunter to peruse the remaining two commissions on the board. Glancing down at the paper in your hand, you read it over once more to take in the details. When you get to the final line, you stop in your tracks.

The smallest string of words say, “Two or more adventurers recommended for this commission.”

Your lips part. What if- There’s no way. It wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?

“Kinich!” You shout his name as loudly as you can, running back toward the commission board. When you’ve almost reached him, you step on the back of your own sandal and trip, a noise of alarm escaping your mouth. Bracing for the impact of the ground, you are instead caught by warm hands and a steady frame.

You blink in surprise at Kinich, who keeps his grip on your upper arm and lower back until you regain your balance—and even then his touch lingers for a moment before he pulls away.

His eyes seem to pierce through you as you look at him and breathlessly ask, “Would, um, would you like to go on this commission with me?”

You hold out the paper, finger trailing along the final sentence.

Kinich huffs out a wry laugh. “Of course Ajaw didn’t mention that detail. Are you sure you want a partner for this? I know you could complete it alone.”

Swallowing, you manage to ask, “And what if I don’t want to do it alone?”

A soft look appears on his face. “Then you have someone willing to do it with you.”

You laugh in delight, and can’t help bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Alright then! I’ll be in good company.”

“And so will I.”

[thesassypadawan]

Toyland (Stephen x FemReader) *Blurb*

Summary:  You’ve been good all December long, hoping that your daddy would shower you with all the toys on your wish list.  Make it a truly magical and memorable Christmas Eve for you.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there sooo much of the smut.  Bit of a dom nerd, fun toys, special ‘playtime’, and… Stephen’s cute, big dick.

Notes:  Happy Holidays, lovelies!  Welcome to track four of my special holiday mix, Toyland! ❤️💚

- All too familiar feeling tug, pull at the pit of your stomach.  Growing stronger and more feverish as you slip that naughty, buzzing device between your soaked folds.  Further still until it plunges into, stretches your velvety walls.  Excited, elated giggles bubbling and spilling out from around your bright red ball…gag.

- “Like your new toys, angel?”  Perched, lounging on the plush couch.  Stephen smiles smugly, knowingly over the rim of his coffee mug.  “Of course you do.”  Watching with keen interest while you wriggle and writhe on the rug, in front of the tree.  “My little slut loves it when both her stockings get stuffed extra full.”  How you squirm and kick your legs happily when…

- Clicking the tiny remote twice…high-pitched, muffled squeals echo off the living room walls in response.  The vibrations in both your greedy holes becoming greater, so powerful that the humming practically rings in your ears.  Makes your teeth chatter, brain go a tiny bit dumb.  Toes curl ever so slightly.

- “That’s what I like to hear,” he chuckles, hint of condescension in his tone.  Taking one last long sip, he sets aside his drink.  Leaning forward, looming above you.  Free hand winding and encircling his big cock.  “Now why don’t you be a good girl.”  Pumping it slowly…fat tip an angry red, glistening with snowy beads of pre oozing from the slit.  “Show daddy how much you enjoy them.”

- Eagerly you obey, fingers fumbling.  Clumsily sinking your plaything in and out of your cunny.  Thumb sloppily circling and teasing your throbbing nub.  “Go on…”  Hips twitching and rocking in time with his steady strokes; your choppy, uneven thrusts.  Desperately trying to get it to drive deeper, to kiss and bruise your aching cervix.  “Let me see…”

- Another two clicks and your eyes start to roll, vison filling with blinding stars and fading to white.  Back arching slightly off the floor, thick thighs trembling.  “Come, sweetheart…”  From the overwhelming pleasure that shoots up your spine.  The effort and strain of your bouncing body, supporting your burdening weight.  The intensity of Stephen’s hungry gaze.  “Make a nice, big mess…”

- Chest rises and falls frantically.  Shallow, deep breaths and pants escape through your nose.  Teeth biting into, leaving faint impressions in the ball gag; taste of rubber, along with all those sweets you gobbled up earlier, flooding your mouth.  “Maybe then I’ll let you open, use another present…” 

- The coil inside you is so tight, the heat stifling.  Holes flutter and clench like crazy at the sound of rapid, wet slaps.  The symphony of gruff moans, low snarls.  “One that I’m sure…”     Slick trickles down your plump bottom, dripping onto the pile of strewn pieces of festive wrapping and bows beneath.  Mixing and mingling with his juices, to create a jolly cocktail.  “My babe will love even better…”

- Yet again he clicks twice.  Causing you to scream and cry quietly in joy all because…  You're spending a truly magical and memorable Christmas Eve.  Exactly how you wanted…  Spoiled rotten by your dotting daddy…  Surrounded, dwelling in your own personal Toyland…

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @adorbzliz, @sythethecarrot, @divineani, @fuckmyskywalker, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @anakinstwinklebunny, @xhunnybeeex

@hearts4sammonroe, @pitas-star, @sythethecarrot, @naberriess, @steven-grants-world, @valyna27, @elcaballerodragon, @yayyy5678, @anakinsrilgirlfriend, @padme-urlove,  @brattyyybbg, @mrschr1stensen, @rosie-chan92, @beresfordsgirl, @darthdaddi, @icosmiclou

[lokischocolatefountain]

An Unexpected Present

Summary: Hope and reassurance comes from an unexpected source when Joel think there might be none.

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: Merry Christmas, pedroblr (is that a thing?) This is my little Christmas present to everyone and I hope (ba dum tss) it gives a bit of hope in terrible times in a different world. This is my present specifically to @docharleythegeekqueen as part of @pedrostories's Secret Santa event. Thank you so much for organizing this and I hope I have delivered as Santa.

People never turned up at your door at the crack of dawn. Thank goodness. It was mostly because you didn’t really have a door for the past two decades for anyone to show up at. Now you had one and apparently people—no, men— took that as an invitation to show up. Okay, it was one man. That was already one too many. 

“What the fuck?” You asked, looking at the guy holding the most god awful bouquet of dried flowers you’d ever seen. Did they do Valentine’s in Jackson? And if so, did they do it in fucking December? 

“You’re the chemistry teacher?” 

Don’t fucking say some corny line about having chemistry with me, you thought, the old pick up line getting on your nerves before it could even be uttered. 

“I am. And I won’t make you meth if that’s what you’re here to ask.” 

He laughed softly, his cheeks turning pink from the winter air. “I wasn’t. But now I’m thinking about it. No, I’m uh… Ellie told me you knew how to make paint?” 

You realized then that he was your student Ellie’s dad. Maria’s brother in law who used to be a contractor in the before times. His name had come up a few times when Maria’s husband told you about how they were fixing up the old houses in the town. 

“Yeah…?” 

“I was wonderin’ if you could make some for me. We can trade for it.” 

“Oh. Uh, I’m sorry… I don’t make that kind of paint.” 

“I didn’t even tell ya what kinda paint I’m lookin’ for.” 

“For walls?” 

“Wow. Why, cause I look like this,” he said, gesturing to himself, “I can’t be looking for watercolor to paint the next Mona Lisa?” 

“The Mona Lisa was painted with oil paints.” 

“It’ll be the watercolor Mona Lisa then. These flowers good enough to make some paint?” He asked, holding out the dried flowers and leaves. 

“Depends on the colors you want for this post apocalyptic Mona Lisa.” 

“Red, green, black and white.” 

“Doesn’t sound like the Mona Lisa to me. Sounds like Christmas.” 

“They told me you were smart, but not that you were a genius,” he mocked, making you roll your eyes. You would’ve closed the door on him and avoided him forever. It was a foolish way to spend the little resources you had on something like paint for Christmas decorations. Linseed oil for protecting wooden surfaces, alum for water clarification, and washing soda for…well, washing. So you told him as much. His face fell when you explained you won’t waste necessary resources for something as superfluous as paint. But he accepted, wished you a good day and left your doorsteps with his dried flowers. 

You thought that would be the end of it. But you didn’t know a very crucial piece of information then. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked, sounding more aggressive than you’d intended to be. 

“Didn’t think it was relevant since ya said making paint is a waste of your time,” he said, sounding a little smug.

“That was before your brother said you had coffee! Why didn’t you tell me you had coffee?” 

“You didn’t say what you’d trade for.” 

“I’ll trade for coffee.” 

Coffee it was. The next morning, he showed up at your door with a thermos full of coffee. Guilty about how you’d treated him the previous day, you invited him inside. What started as politeness became a routine. 

“Had no idea it’d turn blue.” 

“It’s because red cabbages have a chemical called anthocyanin. It’s a natural ph indicator. So when you add it to a neutral substance like water, it turns blue.” 

He nodded, his annoyance at you beginning to change seeing the excitement on your face. It was easy to forget he was also resistant to normalcy when he first arrived at Jackson. Scarcity was the biggest threat to your life outside the infected and it wasn’t easy to set aside old practices you’d built to survive. But that didn’t stop him from being annoyed at you when you told him that paint for Christmas decorations was a waste of your time. 

“Did you teach before, too?” He asked. 

“No. I uh…I worked in the pharmaceutical industry. Made medicines.” 

“Damn,” he said, his mind immediately going to Ellie. If she knew what you did for a living before… There was a real risk too, with you being her teacher and all. A bigger problem was you finding out somehow about Ellie’s immunity and deciding to do something about it. He could handle you of course. He’d handled fireflies with all their weapons. But it wouldn’t be easy to get away with in Jackson. 

“Yeah. And before you ask, no I can’t find a cure.” 

“Why did you think I’d ask that?” He squinted, his worries still not resolved. 

“Everyone does.” 

“Huh.” 

The rest of the walk to the school passed in silence as he mulled over your words. You didn’t believe there was a cure so you wouldn’t look in Jackson for one. That should be enough to calm him. But you didn’t know someone in town was immune. He would have to keep an eye on you. 

____

While the mornings were spend drinking coffee with each other, the evenings were for making paint. He’d gathered everything you needed. Even sat with you and helped you grind the ingredients with a pestle and mortar. You liked to spend your time alone after hours of dealing with loud, curious children. 

You didn’t think you would be alright with Joel intruding on that. But he was good company. He stayed silent apart from asking doubts about the process. The only sound was that of the both of you grinding the pigment source into a fine power set with cyclical movements of the pestles in the mortars. 

“You’re a big fan of Christmas?” You asked one evening. 

“I wouldn’t say so, no.” 

“So, why are you parting with your beloved coffee just for red and green paints?” 

He laughed softly as he tied a filter to the top of a bottle. “It’s for Ellie,” he said, his hand rubbing the broken watch on his wrist. “She never had a normal Christmas so…since we came here to Jackson, I try to do what the town needs for a nice Christmas.” 

“That’s nice,” you said, feeling yourself warming up to him. “How many Christmases have you had here?” You asked, not feeling it appropriate to ask when they arrived. Too personal and invasive perhaps. 

“This is the second one.” 

“Mmm. She deserves it. Ellie. She’s a good kid.” 

“She is, yeah.” 

“It’s…hopeful. Being around young people again. We are all so… Well, I am so disillusioned with the world. She seems to have hope.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah. Asked me if I could find a cure if there was someone immune.” 

His heart almost stopped. What else did she tell you? 

“And what did you say?” 

“The truth. That it’s not possible even if we found someone with immunity.” 

“Why is that?” 

“We didn’t have the technology for this even back in the day. Not for fungi. It took years to create a cure even when we had proper labs and researchers. It’s not likely for us to even find someone who is immune. Even if I did, how would I get to the source of their immunity? We can’t do any tests. We can’t do imaging. If there was someone immune, they should just shut up about it and be alive.” 

“Isn’t that selfish? Ruining the world’s chance to… to become…become normal?” 

“It won’t. Not in our lifetimes. Say we do find a cure. How do we manufacture this drug or vaccine? How many can we make? A hundred? A thousand? And how would we even distribute it? I don’t think a few bicycles and our horses could be as effective as planes and ships to take them around the country. And these things have an expiration date, so…”

“I never thought of that.” 

“Yeah. People are so intoxicated by hope that they fail to consider the logistics. I don’t blame them, though. It’s only natural to hope. Because if there’s no hope for the future, there’s no reason to do fucking anything.” 

“Do you have hope?” 

“Of course,” you said, giving him a smile. Not a naive one free of the burden of truth but a radical one persevering despite it all. “Jackson gives me hope. I didn’t think there could be such a place… There has to be an end to the fungus’ reign at some point in the future. When it has no one to consume. There could be people who are immune and natural selection could take its course, pass the immunity on genetically. Won’t be anytime soon of course. Maybe a few thousand years.” 

“If humanity survives until then. We could all die like the dinosaurs.” 

“We could. Or we could survive. If we’re here, who’s to say there aren’t other little towns persevering? Maybe a few will evolve and survive. They may no longer be us— homosapiens. But they’ll be here. But if not, there’s still all the animals who will look up at the same stars we see every night.” 

“That’s strangely hopeful,” he said after a moment of silence. He wanted to cross the table between the two of you and give you a hug. Tell you that you were the only one who said something optimistic to him that wasn’t a load of rubbish. 

But he went instead for an ornament just for you. Carved it out of wood how he did with all the other ornaments he made for the town’s large Christmas tree. 

When you found the wooden star painted white at your door, you were surprised but had no doubt who it was from. You would never know what you’d done for him. He never doubted he made the right decision getting Ellie out of that hospital. But it helped hearing from someone who didn’t know what happened that she would’ve died for nothing had he made the wrong decision. It was an unexpected present. One you never intended. 

And the next time he was at your door with flowers, they weren’t for making paint. 

[lloovvv]

CHRISTMAS SPECIAL - how they celebrate it with you - multi x reader - headcanons

characters: Kamisato Ayaka, Wanderer, Furina, and Xiao

——————————————————————————————————

KAMISATO AYAKA -

• Ayaka adores the serene beauty of winter, so she might invite you for a stroll through the snow-covered streets of Inazuma or the Kamisato Estate gardens.

• She’ll hold your hand shyly, her cheeks dusted with pink as the two of you enjoy the frosty air.

• She would prepare special dishes like dango or miso soup with seasonal ingredients to keep you warm.

• Ayaka would put a lot of thought into her gift for you. It might be a hand-sewn scarf or a calligraphy piece with a heartfelt poem.

• She would be just as excited to see your reaction as she is nervous that you might not like it (though she tries to hide it).

• Despite her usual poise, Ayaka has a playful side. She might challenge you to a snowball fight, laughing sweetly when you surprise her with a sneak attack.

• If there’s a frozen pond nearby, she’d guide you through a graceful ice skating session, showing off her effortless elegance but cheering you on if you struggle.

• At the end of the day, you two would be lying in the comfort of her bed.

• She’d wrap a blanket around both of you, finding peace in the quiet intimacy.

• This is when she’d open up the most, expressing how much your presence means to her.

• She’d hum a soft melody, creating a memory she’d cherish forever.

——————————————————————————————————

WANDERER -

• Wanderer isn’t the type to actively embrace festive holidays, viewing them as frivolous at first.

• However, if you’re excited about Christmas, he’d begrudgingly go along with it—grumbling about how “pointless” it is while secretly enjoying your enthusiasm.

• His gifts would be unexpectedly thoughtful but wrapped in sarcasm. For example, he might gift you a warm coat, teasing you about always complaining about the cold.

• When you give him a present, he’d act indifferent, but the faintest smile would betray how much it means to him.

• If you insist on decorating together, he’d mock the whole process but still help out—often making snide comments like, “Why do humans like hanging shiny objects everywhere?”

• You’d catch him adjusting the decorations to perfection when he thinks you’re not looking.

• Wanderer isn’t big on crowds or loud celebrations, so he’d prefer to spend the evening with just you.

• He’d sit by the fire, occasionally tossing in witty remarks about holiday traditions, but his eyes would soften when you share your holiday memories.

• If you try to drag him outside for a snowball fight, he’d initially refuse, saying it’s beneath him.

• Eventually, he’d relent—and once he does, he’d be annoyingly good at it, dodging every snowball you throw and smirking the whole time.

• Despite his teasing, he’d let you win in the end, though he’d never admit it.

• Christmas would bring out a reflective side of him. While he’d never say it outright, he’d hint at how he cherishes having you in his life.

• In rare moments of vulnerability, he might let you see his softer side, admitting that spending the holiday with you makes it bearable—even enjoyable.

• If you suggest cooking together, Wanderer would scoff, claiming he doesn’t need food, so why bother?

• But if you persist, he’d eventually help — albeit with sarcastic comments.

• By the end of the day, when everything is quiet, he’d let down his guard and show a genuine smile—a rare and precious sight.

• “You’re lucky you managed to drag me into this,” he’d say, before adding quietly, “But I guess it wasn’t so bad.”

——————————————————————————————————

FURINA -

• Furina would insist on making Christmas a grand event, full of flair and drama. She’d plan an elaborate celebration, complete with a beautifully decorated tree, ornate lights, and a luxurious feast.

• She’d take charge of the preparations, even if she doesn’t know exactly what she’s doing, because she wants it to be perfect.

• Furina would constantly seek your attention during the holiday, making sure you notice all the effort she put into the decorations or her carefully chosen outfit.

• “Y/N, doesn’t this outfit look dazzling? Of course, it does—only I could pull off such elegance on Christmas!”

• She’d turn gift-giving into a contest, wanting to outdo you with the most extravagant and meaningful present.

• Her gift might be something over-the-top, like a rare jewel or a custom-made piece of art that reminds her of you.

• She’d act smug when you open it but would blush when you give her something heartfelt in return.

• Decorating the tree with Furina would be a theatrical affair. She’d dramatically declare that she should place the star on top because she’s “the brightest star in Fontaine.”

• If you challenge her, she’d make a big fuss but secretly enjoy the playful banter.

• Furina would love the idea of ice skating, insisting on showing off her “graceful moves.”

• In reality, she might stumble a bit, but she’d laugh it off and pretend it was all part of the show.

• She’d be thrilled if you held her hand to guide her, though she’d make a big deal about it: “Oh, so you want to hold hands with me? Very well, I’ll allow it.”

• A snowball fight with Furina would feel like a grand courtroom battle. She’d declare herself the “Supreme Commander of Snow” and make every throw with flair.

• If you manage to hit her with a snowball, she’d feign a dramatic fall, claiming you’ve “betrayed the Hydro Archon.”

• Furina would insist on staying up until midnight to celebrate the official start of Christmas Day. She’d drag you outside to admire the stars and make a wish together.

• “If you don’t wish for more time with me, I’ll be very upset,” she’d tease, though her eyes would betray her sincerity.

• Furina might decide to bake Christmas treats with you but would approach it with overconfidence, leading to chaos in the kitchen.

• Even if things go wrong, she’d laugh it off and blame the recipe, saying, “Clearly, it’s not my fault. Who writes these instructions anyway?”

• At the end of the day, Furina would pull you aside for a private moment. She’d hold your hands, her usual theatrical demeanor softening as she says, “I’ve had many performances, but this one, with you, might be my favorite.”

• She’d make it clear, in her own unique way, that you’re the highlight of her holiday.

——————————————————————————————————

XIAO -

• Xiao isn’t one for holidays or celebrations, finding them unnecessary distractions.

• However, if you express how much Christmas means to you, he’d agree to participate—though his discomfort would be obvious at first.

• Xiao wouldn’t understand the point of extravagant decorations, but he’d help you set them up if you asked.

• He might hang a single ornament on the tree, stepping back and saying, “That’s enough, right?” You’d have to gently coax him into adding more.

• Xiao wouldn’t think about getting a gift until the last minute, but he’d put his heart into it. It might be something simple yet meaningful, like a handmade talisman for your protection.

• When you give him a present, he’d be flustered, not knowing how to react. “You didn’t have to do this,” he’d murmur, though his softened expression would show how much he appreciates it.

• Rather than actively celebrating, Xiao would focus on ensuring your safety and comfort during the festivities.

• He’d stay nearby, silently keeping an eye on you while pretending he’s not part of the celebration.

• Xiao would prefer to spend Christmas in a quiet, serene setting. He might take you to Wangshu Inn, where the two of you could enjoy the tranquil view of the illuminated landscape.

• If you try to get him involved in a snowball fight, Xiao would initially decline, saying, “That’s not necessary.”

• But if you’re persistent, he’d eventually join in, using his speed and precision to effortlessly dodge or land snowballs.

• He’d let a rare smile slip when he sees you laughing, though he’d quickly compose himself.

• Xiao isn’t big on physical affection, but he’d make sure you’re warm and safe, buying and silently placing a scarf around your neck or pulling you closer to his side if it’s cold.

• If you thank him, he’d look away and mutter, “It’s nothing.”

• Xiao would be hesitant to try Christmas treats, as he’s not used to indulging in such things.

• If you insist, he’d take a small bite and offer a neutral comment like, “It’s… acceptable.” But if he secretly enjoys it, you might catch him sneaking another bite later.

• At the end of the day, Xiao would admit in a quiet voice, “I don’t understand these traditions… but if it makes you happy, I’m glad I could be here with you.”

• He’d linger by your side, taking in the peaceful atmosphere and silently cherishing the moment you’ve shared.

——————————————————————————————————

[sleepynoons]

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU BY MARIAH CAREY– neuvillette (genshin) x afab!f!reader, nsfw / 18+

genre – fluff, smut word count – ~3,100 warnings – age gap, lingerie, oral (receiving), fingering synopsis – it's your first winter with neuvillette, and where you grew up, it's customary to celebrate by exchanging presents, eating delicious food, and spending quality time with loved ones. even though neuvillette is overwhelmed with work at the moment, you're excited to surprise him.

Neuvillette is known for his lack of personal greed, with the exception of his indisputable particular taste for certain flavors of water. Because of his asceticism, intentional or not, it had been difficult for the two of you to enter the relationship you now are in, but with the incredible aid and full support of the Melusines, the Chief Justice finally distinguished your feelings of likeness separate from others of friendliness and sociability.

To his end, though, you are known for your intensity, speech sharp with judgment, gaze watchful and vigilant, pen always in hand, scribbling away at a new manuscript or op-ed for The Steambird. Originating from Sumeru, you had been well aware of the turmoil brewing within the Akademiya, and managed to flee, even with such knowledge, to Fontaine. Here, you have been able to continue your studies from where you left off, as well as pursue your own endeavors in writing, which had long been restricted when you were a student. In fact, it was precisely due to one of your well-received yet controversial pieces in the newspaper that had landed you an opportunity to interview Neuvillette and ask him questions on questions regarding his thoughts on governance, the limitations of rule and government, and checks and balances.

You intended it to be a one-off instance, fully knowing that the Chief Justice is incredibly busy. However, you had a bad habit of losing track of time, and he is more than happy to speak in length, and your first conversation did not end on a fulfilling thought. As a result, for several months on end, you would spend two hours every three weeks with Neuvillette, which, by then, it was more than obvious you had developed intimate feelings for him.

Of course, even though you two are now a couple, the dynamics of your schedule have not differed by much. Neuvillette still has a limited amount of time to see you, though it is permissible for you to make more spontaneous visits to his office, if you are so inclined. But being the studious writer that you are, you still have not acted upon this privilege yet.

“You really should take up more of his time!”

You squint your eyes over the rim of the teacup that you are sipping from, taking several moments to think of a proper response. A part of you is still ruminating over the last draft of your manuscript, something you have been losing sleep over to make it in time for the deadline for The Streambird’s short story contest at the end of the month, but you know you should be more focused on the conversation at hand. After all, while Miss Furina is beloved by the people and is commonly seen out and about, it is still rare for her to request a private audience with someone as little of importance socially, politically, economically as you are.

“Miss Furina, I’m not sure I follow?” is the best you can manage. You take another sip as the celebrity huffs in disappointment.

“How trite! It has been so long since my last visit to the Palais Mermonia, yet even I’ve been made aware of Neuvillette’s situation! Please tell me you at least know of that!”

You open your mouth to release a hum of agreement. “Yes,” you say, “though I am not sure what his condition has to do with his schedule? Wouldn’t it be more advisable for him to go rest, instead of having me bother him?”

“You are incredibly dull, my friend.” 

You nod slowly, noting in your head that she is sassier than she lets on, easily overpowered by her stage presence and bright smile. Regardless, you are still not sure if you ae thinking on the same lines as she is.

Miss Furina gives you a few more seconds to think on your own, but seeing the lack of any recognition or realization on your face, she sighs before flinging three sugar cubes into her tea with exasperated movements. She then grumbles, “Neuvillette does not rest until the Melusines kowtow and beg. Could you not at least help save them some face and demand of him to rest a day or two?”

You watch as the sugar begins to dissolve into the tea. When instructed as such, there really is no harm in doing so. You nod again, and Furina yelps with delight, clapping her hands in a circle.

“I try my best to not get involved in his affairs anymore, but perhaps this is just my way of slowly repaying his efforts. Anyway, I need to carry on with the rest of my day. Good luck, friend, and cheers to your union!”

You realize you did not ask the more glaring questions of this conversation. You are not sure how Miss Furina knows of your relationship with the Chief Justice in the first place, or why you are the one settling the bill for lunch. You shrug as you wipe at your mouth with a tissue, thinking of ways to convince your partner on stepping away from his impending cases for at least a few hours.

The solution comes quite easily, frankly speaking. In part of your intense and serious attitude, you are also associated as being very independent, so when you send a note to Neuvillette requesting his assistance later in the evening, he replies immediately in complete compliance. That way, you did not have to risk interrupting him in the midst of his work, while still satisfying Miss Furina’s plea.

In reality, though, you only got lucky because you had happened to remember today’s date. You do not quite recall how you thought of it – it could have been a street sign or a poster that you spotted from your periphery –, but the whole point is that this day used to be very important to you as you grew up. Though you are not upset or even the slightest bit nostalgic, you think it is the perfect excuse to save your partner from undue stress and cacophony.

Thus, you make your way to several shops before returning home with two small boxes and a bag in your hands. There are a few more hours before Neuvillette is to arrive, so you shuffle all of the scattered loose leaf paper into haphazard stacks and stuff your ballpoint pens into your drawers to make room on your desk to wrap the presents you bought.

–

When your partner comes, it is already dark, overcast with dense clouds that pour incessantly. He knocks at your door just as you are stoking the flames in your fireplace, and you pace over to let him in.

You open the door to a very concerned Chief Justice.

“Are you alright?” are his first words.

You cannot help but feel guilty at deceiving your partner.

You place a hand on his arm, which he returns with the same gesture, and you rub soothing circles into the fabric of his coat. “Yes, I managed to figure it out.”

“Are you sure you don’t need me to revise your draft? I am more than willing to, might you think my input may be necessary.”

With gentle tugs, you lead him to your rounded dining table for two, where there are already steaming mugs of tea settling on their matching saucers, and the two of you take your usual seats across from each other.

You feel no need to keep up your lie. “My sincere apologies, Neuvillette, but there’s actually no manuscript you need to help with. The Melusines had specifically asked of me to find a way to extract you from your work, lest you become glued to your chair.” You leave out any mentions of Miss Furina out of respect for her privacy.

“Ah, I see.”

You observe his face, careful for even the faintest of shifts or twitches to anticipate his reactions. But Neuvillette’s impartiality should never be underestimated, and his expression does not change at all.

“Are you upset?” you ask.

He glances at you, having previously been staring into his cup. “Uh, no, I… I suppose I have been dealing with a torrent of work. I apologize for having concerned all of you.”

You set your hands out, and Neuvillette holds them in his palms. You admire the feel of his gloves against your bare skin and watch as he thumbs over your calloused fingers.

You finally manage to hum, “No worries. Though, I have a few things I want to give you, so your visit’s not entirely a waste.”

His grip tightens. “It is never a waste. Forgive me, for neglecting us.”

You chuckle before slipping your hands out of his hold, and patter over to the wrapped presents that sit on the floor to the side of the fireplace.

“Here,” you say, as you set the gifts in front of him.

“What occasion are these for?” he asks, eyes glimmering with fascination. You have always loved Neuvillette’s eyes. While his face may be as set as stone, at times, you can tell fragments of his thoughts by the color and brightness in his eyes.

You have not told him much about your upbringing, and you do not feel inclined to dwell on it tonight either. So, in the briefest way possible, you explain, “When I was growing up, every year on this day, the community I was a part of would exchange gifts. There was also a large feast, with plenty to eat and drink.” You give a light shrug before finishing, “I just thought it would be nice to share a bit of my past with you.”

“I understand,” he replies, eyes and tone soft and gentle. “I’m afraid your presents will have to wait for next year.”

You know time means nothing to him, but his words still melt the rough, unromantic edges within you. You smile to yourself as you watch him unwrap the pen and bejeweled brooch you had bought him. Finally, when he moves onto the bag, you laugh as you see him tear away his gaze before shakily handing you the box from inside.

“This, um, seems to be yours.”

You release an intrigued noise before nudging the box back toward him. “It is still a present for you.”

“How so?” Neuvillette’s cheeks and ears are tinged with a warm red, and you are sure it is not solely because of the fire.

You get up from your chair, round over to his side, and stand beside him. “I forgot to mention,” you tease, “but this day’s particularly special for couples. They celebrate together, spend time together, and… need I say more?”

You and Neuvillette have slept together before, though the number does not exceed single digits despite the two of you having been together for a little less than a year. Such occurrences are usually a result of your or his feverish desires exceeding a certain boiling point, and you suppose this time, you are the insatiable one.

“Look inside,” you instruct with a flick of your chin. “Do you like it?”

Folded neatly inside the box is a red satin tank top and sleep shorts. The color shines brilliantly under the flickering of the flames, and you appreciate the contrast of it against the purple and indigo of Neuvillette’s eyes.

“Yes, o-of course. I’m sure it suits you well,” he mumbles, blush flushing deeper and deeper with every passing second.

You pat his shoulder. “Perfect. I’ll change in the bathroom, so wait for me on the bed.”

If it was really up to you, you would not even change in a separate room. But, for the sake of your easily flustered partner, you show him some mercy and grant him no more than two minutes of reprieve. As Neuvillette said, the set does fit you, in ways other than just size, and you are glad you decided to go the extra length to splurge on lingerie, as it is also a treat for yourself.

When you enter your bedroom, barely concealing the skip in your step, you see Neuvillette seated on the corner of your bed, unmoving. You doubt he has barely even breathed since you left him alone.

“Neuvillette?”

His head shoots up at your call of his name, but he fails to respond. His eyes, which were staring holes into the ground a mere second ago, are now drinking in the sight of you in your new clothes. They linger at the exposure of your neck and collarbones, the outline of your breasts, the flare of the top around your waist, and the contrast of the shorts’ red sheen against the suppleness of your thighs. You find yourself almost feeling shy at his undivided attention, and you rock on your feet, waiting for him to make a move.

Neuvillette only breaks out of his reverie once he has looked over your entirety. “You look mesmerizing,” he praises. He makes it sound like a truth, a new law he has amended into Fontaine’s books, something everyone should know and accept by now. It is your turn to shudder and lose your composure at his words, so you do not even try to respond, and instead, walk over to stand in front of him.

However, he quickly switches your positions, gliding you over to sit and him kneeling between your knees. He presses fleeting kisses on the inners of your knees, before slowly traversing up the length of your right thigh, nuzzling and pressing and licking. You squirm as he sucks on your skin, and gasp at every mark he leaves.

It is unbelievable, you think. Back in Sumeru, you were constantly teased, others mocking and prophesying that you will forever spend this special day alone. Yet, you are grown now, and being lavished and indulged by another, by your lover.

You try your best not to muss Neuvillette’s hair, so you clutch onto his shoulders. Digging your fingernails into the white silk of his shirt, you barely contain your whimpers as your partner begins to approach the heat emanating between your legs. You jump once you feel him press the pad of a finger against your hole, and cannot help but moan as he kisses your clit, the satin of the shorts doing nothing to dull the sensations.

Though Neuvillette’s actions are restrained, limited to only kitten licks and playful flicks with his fingertip, your pleasure compounds at an exceptional rate. By the time he lifts you up to slide your shorts off, you have already stained much of the fabric and are continuing to leak, wetness dripping down your inner thighs and the bottom of your ass.

“Absolutely decadent,” he mumbles, gazing with much adoration and intensity at the way your legs shake and your clit trembles.

Before you can say anything, he takes your breath away as his lips close around your sensitive bud. He taps and laves his tongue against the hood, pressure just enough to choke you from pleasurable stimulation. His hands are wrapped tightly around your thighs, to hold them in place, as well as bite his nails into your skin, although you have no idea when he took his gloves off.

“Neuvillette,” you breathe out. He hums around your clit with a more forceful suck, and you reel over, hunching over his head, hands sliding down his back and crumping his shirt within your grasp. Your partner understands your reaction as a subconscious plea to move on, and so, he licks his way down to your hole. He can feel it open and close around nothing, and it is only then that he is made aware of how painfully hard he is.

You grit out, “More – please.”

He knows he cannot further deny you. He laps at your entrance, entranced by your taste, before finally pushing his tongue in.

You are warm, sweet, incredibly tight. He pulls back, draws a large breath, and dives back in, pushing himself as far in as he can. Since the very beginning, you have been very sensitive, always reacting to even the lightest and briefest of touches, so Neuvillette knows your body must be overwhelmed by everything he is doing to you. He knows this is the case when he leans back on his heels for a quick rest, and sees your face, sweat tracing your hairline and eyes glazed over. For some reason, Neuvillette finds himself growing even larger, even harder, at the sight, and he distracts himself by returning to his place between your legs.

This time, he goes faster, accompanying his tonguing with circles of his finger around your clit. He can also hear you muffling your noises with the back of your hand.

“Please, let me hear you,” he says, between movements of his mouth and hand. “I need to know that you are feeling good.”

You are so used to practicing restraint and discipline, so you hesitate at first. But when Neuvillette presses your clit in that exact way you like and tongues you so deeply, you moan out loud, giving in regardless of your own wishes. And because he is incredible, precise, with analyzing your needs, he keeps doing it, giving you what you crave and desire over and over and over again, until you are brought over the edge.

Neuvillette groans as your hole flutters around his tongue, more of your taste filling his mouth, and he drinks in whatever he can. At this point, you are holding his head against your body, almost bucking your hips to close whatever distance is left, so that you can extend your high.

By the time the two of you peel apart from each other, you are about to unzip his pants before you notice a stain. You look at Neuvillette’s face, only to find him with a flushed, euphoric expression, and you feel surprise and delight wash over you.

“We will continue tomorrow morning, if that is alright with you,” he says, a little out of breath. You, too, are still heaving, so you nod in agreement.

Back at home, this day was spent with several people under a clear night. You would all be gossiping, dancing, discussing, and by the end of it, you would exchange gifts, though for most of it, you were left to your own devices, reading storybooks in whatever dimly lit corner you could find. This time around, though it is raining outside and there is no one else besides you and Neuvillette, you think this is the best celebration you could ever have. You would not wish for anything else, as long as you have him.

winter event masterlist

[artsninspo]

❄️ SNOWED IN SEDUCTION - RIO X READER

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

: ̗̀➛ rio's library - good girl nbc

𐙚 based on this prompt

summary: a whirlwind fic about two strangers stuck on a resort because of a snow storm on christmas eve. starring rio, an enigmatic and mysterious investor.

warnings: this one's messy, with language and its spicy. 🌶️ 🌪️

pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

word-count: 2.1K

You let out a frustrated groan, putting your head in your hands as you tried to figure out how this had come to pass.

It had started with the snowstorm. The announcement over the hotel’s PA system had grounded you, along with dozens of other travelers, in the luxurious mountain resort. A work trip gone rogue, the only reason you were in attendance was that you had volunteered to ensure one of your colleagues didn't miss the lead-up to Christmas with their young children. But the snow had blown in, ruining your plans for Christmas Day. The frustration of missing Christmas with your family was palpable, but you’d resigned yourself to making the best of it.

Then there was Rio.

The man had appeared at the reception desk, his presence commanding and effortlessly magnetic. You noticed him immediately—the neck tattoo, the scruffy facial hair, the way his black cashmere sweater and dark jeans fit him as though they were made custom. He was a contradiction: rugged and refined, approachable yet untouchable. And when he’d turned his attention to you, his eyes locking onto yours with a heat that made your pulse quicken, it was as though the rest of the world had ceased to exist.

It was one of those magnetic moments people reference in songs and the rising action of movie plots. When two people look at each other and just know. That’s what it was like—exactly like that. One look communicated mutual attraction in an instant.

Instead of moving hastily or getting bent out of shape, Rio maintained his resolve, moving slowly, commanding time, and insisting the receptionists see to your needs first. It seemed like an innuendo and acted as an aphrodisiac to what would follow. In an attempt to make lemonade out of lemons, the hotel threw a party for its guests. You were in bed on the phone with your sisters when your invitation and a clothing rack of dresses arrived. It was your first note from him.

Hope to see you there. Champagne is on me.- Rio

A quick internet search made it clear the man had money. The bottle alone was worth between thirty to fifty grand. The dresses were all five figures too. How he’d managed to find something to fit your frame so perfectly was beyond your comprehension. Feeling sexy, sultry, and encouraged by the expensive gifts and your sisters' prodding, you were excited to see him again, going against your sensible side. The allure of Rio’s charm proved too strong to resist.

The party had been a haze of champagne and laughter, the two of you moving seamlessly between conversations, dances, and stolen moments that left your skin tingling. Rio had been attentive, his hand at the small of your back, his deep voice whispering in your ear. There was a chemistry between you that felt almost dangerous or maybe it was simply something about him that signaled danger.

When the party ended, he’d walked you back to the Skyloft suite. His kiss had been the beginning of the unraveling—a heady mix of dominance and desire that left you breathless. What followed was a night unlike any you’d ever experienced. Rio was commanding yet patient, his every touch deliberate, his every whispered word a promise of pleasure. He took control, unraveling you piece by piece until there was nothing left but raw vulnerability and euphoria.

He slipped inside, filling you slowly until he fit like a glove. Leaving your breath bated as your body gets used to the stimulation. Dark eyes look down at you under thick lashes. His thumb pressed firmly against your spot forcing your eyes close in a satisfied moan. His lips part yours not allowing for any reprieve and his hips find a rhythm that drives you wild. Tears bead in the corners of your eyes as he goes harder, his hips go faster and his kiss is more feverish. His thrusts are punishing, but his dominance and size makes you crazy for him. Your mouth opens, breaking the kiss in a bid to get air. You’re overstimulated and delirious. It feels so good there’s no room for anything else. Rio looks down at you enjoying the effect and impact of his physicality. The slapping of skin, the heat from your body, the slickness of your pleasure mixed in with his. The chemistry between the two of you is so raw it’s stripped both of you bare, leaving nothing there but an instinctive need for pleasure. He’d seen the doubt in your expression. Men with his bank account often slacked in bed, not him, not with pussy this good. The image of you writhing in pleasure under him keeps him creative in his approach to the fucking and hard as a rock. Wanting to see your pretty eyes again he roots himself deep inside of you. The groan you let out is coupled with a climax and your eyes go to him again. It’s number two in what seems like no time at all.

“If you want me to keep fucking you like a whore act like one and look at me. Watch me while I’m fucking you. Take this dick like a good girl” his words added to the sensation, it feels so good you need a moment and you pull him into another kiss. He kissed you soft and seductive, slowly drawing the freak out of you as replaces his manhood with his fingers, a cheap imitation of what he’s capable of.

“I know your game” he whispered against your lips but you’ve never been fucked like this - ever. Looking up at him he seems like the perfect pleasure dealer. Looking between his legs you find reassurance at how his impressive size stands at attention

.

“You’re defying gravity for me” you commented with eyes that waited to be granted permission to touch him.

“Nah” Rio smiled, his ego too strong to let you be his undoing. He watched your eyes sparkle at the realization of his  objection and smiles when instead of challenging him you find yourself on all fours grabbing him full control. He admires your arch.

“Pick the hole” he said, making your body ache for him. Who even says shit like that?! Reaching back you slide him into your center. Rio hums at the contact enjoying being inside you as much as you enjoy him nestled there too. The angle was everything, giving you the privacy to close your eyes while taking him in peace as he finds your depths testing your limits. The chorus of moans make Rio feel like the old him before the money. It was clear now how much other women put on a facade. The lazy fucking he gave them had them carrying on in ways that didn’t make sense now that he could feel a real unbridled reaction from you. The way your core clenches his manhood before you moan, how your hands go to massage areas being overstimulated, how every time he went to grab your breasts your nipples were pebbled for him. That kind of reaction was all instinct, something that couldn't be faked and it filled Rio with pride. The way you felt to him and how he was making you feel had to be some kind of christmas magic.

He could get lost in you easily, losing his focus on his work and dropping the ball. Your shit was good enough to turn him into a trick or a fiend. The onset of his orgasm is violent and unfamiliar. Warm thick streams float into you for the first time and the sensation drives you wild. Your breaths are rugged as he stays rooted in you. The moment is intimate and unlike anything you’ve ever experienced with anyone else, ever. You couldn't have dreamed up a better session, as exhaustion flows in so does a well earned afterglow. Rio stays hard even after he’s caught his breath. Sliding out he rests against the pillows. Your cheeks burn as he looks over at you unable to fathom that this is real as he watches his seed leak out of you. Your brain doesn’t even click into survival mode from the post coital bliss.

“Tell me what I taste like” he says clearly with some power to override your common sense. Slight bitterness and exhaustion stopped you from complying.

“I’d know if you let me suck it” you respond instead of tasting him from your own body and he smiles. Looking between your legs and getting up. Rio returns with a warm rag wiping you clean. The aftercare surprises you. He slipps on a pair of pants and you feel your heart fall, but he takes the robe hanging in the bathroom and places it over your body.

You can still feel the heat of his touch as if it were imprinted on your skin. The way his lips had moved against yours, his hands firm yet gentle, made you shiver even now. He had been attentive in a way you hadn’t expected, making you feel seen, desired, and utterly consumed. You had lost track of time entirely, the hours blending into one long, intoxicating blur of intimacy and passion.

Now, in the bright light of Christmas morning, the reality of it all hit you like a gust of icy wind. Rio was gone, his presence lingering only in the faint scent of his cologne and the ghost of his touch. The knock on the door earlier had shattered your reverie—two men in dark suits presenting an NDA with clinical efficiency. You’d signed it without hesitation, using the alias you always employed for work. Only then had they confirmed his full name: Rio Montana.

Investor. Enigma. And now, a ghost in your memory.

The exchange had been cold, transactional. One of the men had placed a card and a banking printout on the table alongside the money. The other had stood silently, his expression unreadable. "The additional fifty thousand can be accessed following the instructions on this card," the man had said, his voice devoid of warmth. The automation of it all had made you feel small, like an afterthought in a world of power and wealth.

You glanced at the money again, the weight of it pressing down on your chest. What did it mean? Compensation? A parting gift? A bribe to ensure your silence? The thought made your stomach churn, but another part of you, the pragmatic side, couldn’t deny the practical appeal. A hundred thousand dollars could change your life. It could pay off debts, fund dreams, or simply buy you freedom from the grind you’d been stuck in.

But at what cost?

The drive to the airport was quiet, the snowstorm having finally relented. The resort staff had arranged a fleet of SUVs to transport stranded guests, and you found yourself staring out the window, watching the pristine white landscape blur past. The excitement of Christmas felt distant, replaced by a strange cocktail of emotions: shame, exhilaration, and something else you couldn’t quite place.

The roads were lined with snow-covered evergreens, their branches heavy with the weight of winter. Christmas decorations adorned the small towns you passed, twinkling lights and festive wreaths offering a stark contrast to the turmoil in your heart. You’d always loved the holiday season, but this year it felt hollow, as though the magic had been replaced with a cold, hard reality.

At the terminal, you moved through security and boarded your flight, your carry-on heavier than it had been when you arrived. Settling into your seat, you looked out at the snow-covered tarmac, the events of the past day replaying in your mind. The encounter with Rio had been a whirlwind, a departure from your otherwise measured and predictable life. It had awakened something in you, something you weren’t sure you could name yet.

The plane taxied down the runway. You stared out the window, watching the clouds drift by in a blanket of white, and placed a hand absently on your stomach. A faint flutter of nausea lingered, stressed and mixed emotions threatening to come up with the morning's breakfast.

The other passengers around you chatted quietly, their voices a low hum against the backdrop of the engine’s steady roar. A child a few rows ahead giggled as they played with a small, plush reindeer toy, the sound tugging at something deep within you. You found yourself watching them, a strange mix of emotions bubbling to the surface—longing, curiosity, and something you couldn’t quite put into words.

Dazed, shocked, and conflicted, you couldn’t deny the thrill of the experience. But it was bittersweet, a morally gray chapter in your life that you’d carry with you. The money was a blessing, the memory of Rio a curse and a gift all at once.

authour's note: thanks for reading ❤️ I played around with the formatting of this last minute, hopefully it wasn't too hard to follow. I wanted to try something new before the year ended.

there are more holiday fics in the rio archive linked above.

tags: @meadows5 @wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells @ffenthusiastt @sowhatariyana @1xtral1983 @theegoddessofmelanin @fictionalreads @roxytheimmortal

if you made it all the way here, this is an prologue concept I have been working on for a secret baby story with OC's.

[neferaskingdom]

♡ So Kiss Me | OP81

Summary: McLaren's annual Christmas party means failed gingerbread houses and confessions in the snow.

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

The McLaren Technology Centre was buzzing with excitement. Fresh off the high of their constructors’ championship win, the annual Christmas party was in full swing. The sprawling MTC was unrecognizable, decked out with garlands, fairy lights, and a massive Christmas tree standing proudly at the entrance. It was festive, loud, and decidedly not where Y/N wanted to be at the moment.

She leaned against a high-top table near the edge of the room, nursing her drink and watching the crowd. As a PR coordinator for McLaren, she’d spent months working tirelessly managing their socials and was supposed to be enjoying herself. Instead, she was contemplating the pros and cons of sneaking out early when a familiar voice cut through her thoughts.

“Y/N, you’re not entering the gingerbread contest?”

Caroline. The thorn in her side. Caroline worked in marketing and had perfected the art of weaponized politeness. Tonight, she was wearing a sparkly red dress and an infuriatingly smug expression.

“Nope,” Y/N said flatly, hoping the conversation would end there.

Caroline tilted her head, her smile sharpening. “Oh, I see. I guess some people just don’t have the creative touch for it.”

Y/N’s grip tightened on her glass. She didn’t care about the contest… except now she absolutely did. Caroline’s subtle digs always had a way of lighting a fire under her.

“Actually, I’ve decided I’m entering,” Y/N said, forcing a smile.

Caroline blinked in surprise, but she recovered quickly. “Oh, how fun! Can’t wait to see what you come up with.”

As soon as Caroline walked away, Y/N’s bravado crumbled. What was she doing? She didn’t even have a teammate.

She scanned the room, hoping to spot someone who wasn’t already paired up or too deep into their drinks. No luck. Her usual work friends were either tipsy or engrossed in other activities. After a fruitless search, she retreated to a quieter corner of the room, sulking.

“Why do you look like someone stole your Christmas cookies?”

She looked up to see Oscar Piastri standing in front of her, hands in his pockets and a curious smile on his face. He looked effortlessly good in a suit, the tie slightly loosened around his neck.

“It’s nothing,” she said quickly, not wanting to admit her predicament.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” he said, stepping closer. “Come on, Y/N. Spill.”

With a sigh, she relented. “Caroline made some snide comment about me not entering the gingerbread contest, so I decided to prove her wrong. But I don’t have a partner, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to embarrass myself.”

Oscar’s brows lifted in amusement. “That’s it? Easy fix. I’ll be your partner.”

Her eyes widened. “What? No way. You don’t have to do that. This is your party. You should be… I don’t know, celebrating.”

“I am celebrating,” he said with a grin. “And what better way to celebrate than helping you crush Caroline?”

She hesitated, but the sincerity in his eyes won her over. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’m terrible at this stuff.”

“How bad could it be?”

Very bad, as it turned out.

“This wall won’t stay up!” Y/N groaned, holding a piece of gingerbread that stubbornly refused to stick to the icing.

“Maybe we didn’t use enough icing?” Oscar suggested, frowning at their rapidly deteriorating structure.

“I think the problem is that we’re bad at this,” she said, trying not to laugh.

“Speak for yourself,” he shot back, his smirk widening. “I’m an innovator. This is modern architecture.”

“If by ‘modern’ you mean it looks like it’s about to fall over, then yeah, you nailed it,” she shot back, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her grin.

They both burst out laughing as the roof caved in, sending a handful of gumdrops skittering across the table. Around them, other teams were building masterpieces: sleek houses with intricate frosting designs and perfectly placed candies. Meanwhile, theirs looked like it had survived an earthquake.

“This… this looks like something a five-year-old made blindfolded,” Y/N said, choking on laughter as she gestured at the crumbling mess. “It’s somehow defying gravity in all the wrong ways!”

Oscar wheezed, leaning on the table for support. “Hey, it’s abstract. We’re pushing the boundaries of what a gingerbread house can be.”

“Right, because ‘falling apart’ is such a bold statement,” she teased, wiping tears from her eyes.

They tried to salvage their creation, but every attempt made it worse. Oscar’s attempt at adding a candy cane chimney resulted in the entire roof collapsing again, while Y/N’s decorative icing turned into an unintentional Jackson Pollock painting.

“This is a disaster,” Y/N said, though she couldn’t stop laughing.

“The best kind of disaster,” Oscar said, his tone warm. “Seriously, who cares what it looks like? We’re having fun, right?”

Y/N looked at him, her laughter fading into a softer smile. “Yeah, we are. Thanks, Oscar. You’re a really good friend.”

His expression shifted slightly, like he wanted to say something more, but the moment was interrupted by Caroline sauntering past with her flawless gingerbread mansion.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s so cute that you’re trying. It’s all about having fun, right?”

Y/N forced a tight smile as Caroline walked away. “I hate her.”

“Hey,” Oscar said, nudging her gently. “Forget her. Look at what we made. It’s got… personality.”

Her smile returned, though it wavered slightly as she glanced at the crumbled mess of icing and gingerbread. “Personality is one way to put it.”

Noticing the flicker of disappointment in her eyes, Oscar leaned in, his voice lower and more earnest. “Hey, don’t let her get to you. She’s not worth it.”

Y/N gave a half-hearted shrug. “Easier said than done.”

Oscar studied her for a moment before straightening. “Come on. Let’s get out of here for a bit. Fresh air might help.”

The chill of the night air was sharp against Y/N’s cheeks as she and Oscar wandered the grounds of the McLaren Technology Centre. The party noise had faded into the background, leaving only the quiet sounds of leaves crunching beneath their shoes and the soft rustle of wind against the nearby trees. Y/N hugged her arms around herself, her thoughts drifting as she glanced over at Oscar. He had his hands stuffed in his pockets, his posture relaxed but his gaze attentive.

Oscar broke the silence first, his voice warm and conversational. “You’ve been quiet. What’s on your mind?”

Y/N smiled faintly. “Just… everything. The party, the season, life. It’s been a crazy year.”

“Tell me about it.” He shot her a small grin. “But hey, at least we’ve survived.”

She laughed. “Barely. Some days I wasn’t sure I would. Between the endless PR work and trying to keep up with you drivers, it’s a miracle I’m still standing.”

“Oh, come on,” he teased. “You love it. Admit it.”

“I do,” she admitted, her tone softening. “It’s exhausting, but it’s worth it. Especially when I get to see moments like tonight. You guys deserve it, you know?”

Oscar’s smile turned bashful. “Thanks. It still feels a bit surreal. I keep thinking I’ll wake up tomorrow and it’ll all be a dream.”

“If it is, it’s a pretty damn good one,” she said.

They fell into a comfortable rhythm, their conversation meandering from the highs and lows of the season to lighter topics. Y/N found herself laughing more than she had all night, her usual guardedness slipping away in his presence. It was easy to talk to Oscar, too easy, and she felt a familiar flutter in her chest every time he smiled at her.

Snow began to fall, light and gentle, dusting their hair and coats. Y/N’s eyes lit up as she stopped in her tracks, tilting her face upward. “It’s snowing!”

Oscar chuckled, watching as she spun in place, arms outstretched like a child. Her laughter rang out, clear and bright, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She was beautiful, her joy infectious, and for a moment, he forgot about the cold entirely.

“You’re going to freeze,” he called out, amusement lacing his tone.

“I don’t care!” she replied, still twirling. “Look at how perfect it is. It’s like something out of a Christmas movie.”

Her spinning slowed as she stumbled slightly, and Oscar stepped forward instinctively, steadying her with his hands on her arms. She looked up at him, her breath visible in the cold air, and suddenly the world seemed to shrink around them. The snow fell quietly, the moment suspended in time as their eyes met.

“You’re shivering,” he said softly. Without waiting for a reply, he slipped off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders. His hands lingered for a second, his touch warm against the cold fabric.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her heart raced as she stared at him, the closeness between them making her acutely aware of every small detail—the flecks of gold in his eyes, the way his breath hitched slightly as their gazes locked.

Her mind raced, a chaotic swirl of emotions. She’d always felt something for Oscar, but she’d buried it under layers of professionalism and self-doubt. Now, standing here with him, she couldn’t deny it any longer. She liked him. She more than liked him. And judging by the way he was looking at her, the feeling might just be mutual.

Before she could overthink it, Oscar leaned in. The kiss was sudden, catching her completely off guard, but she melted into it almost instantly. His lips were soft, warm against the chill of the night, and the world seemed to blur at the edges as her heart pounded in her chest.

When they broke apart, her breath came in shallow gasps. “Oscar…” she began, her voice shaky.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, stepping back slightly. “I shouldn’t have—”

“No,” she interrupted, reaching out to grab his hand. “Don’t apologize. I… I’ve been wanting to do that for ages.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “You have?”

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah. I just didn’t think you…”

“Are you kidding?” he said, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Y/N, I’ve liked you since the day we met. I just didn’t want to mess things up.”

Her heart swelled at his words, and she felt a giddy rush of joy that made her want to laugh and cry all at once. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” she said, her tone playful.

“Yeah,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. “But I’m your idiot, if you’ll have me that is.”

She didn’t reply with words. Instead, she pulled him into another kiss, this one deeper and more urgent. His hands found her waist as hers tangled in his hair, the world around them fading into insignificance. She pressed against him, her back meeting the rough bark of a nearby tree as their kisses grew more heated.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless, their faces flushed despite the cold. Oscar rested his forehead against hers, his hands still on her waist.

“So,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “do you want to head back to the party, or…?”

She hesitated, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “But this is your celebration party. Everyone’s here for you.”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling. “I’d rather celebrate in a different way.”

She stared at him, half in shock and half in amusement, before bursting into laughter. “Oscar Piastri, I didn’t know you had game.”

He laughed with her, his hand slipping into hers. “Come on,” he said, tugging her gently toward the parking lot. “Let’s get out of here.”

As they walked away, hand in hand, the snow continued to fall, blanketing the world in quiet magic. For the first time that night, Y/N felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be.

[motherismotheringggg]

nicholas chavez fic where he’s with plus size reader and he likes to see her jiggle during sex👁️👁️

made to worship 🥀

summary: this and one another anon request — LOVED THIS!!!

type: plus sized female reader x nicholas chavez

tags: established relationship, body worshipping, oral (m! and f! receiving), p in v sex, swallowing

author’s note: it’s the way i wanted to start writing for more specific readers/reader traits and the literal say i had this idea i got this request — INSANITY!!! but im so happy with this and i hope yall like it!!!

word count: 4909

taglist: @emluvsuxo , @blackynsupremacy , @hoffmansgirl , @godzillawillsaveus , @purple-1995 , @ilovecheetahchrome , @nicholaschavezslut69

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

The evening sky outside your high-rise apartment glowed with hues of pink and orange, the city skyline twinkling like scattered jewels. Inside, your space was bathed in the warm, ambient glow of your carefully curated mood lighting.

Fairy lights danced along the edges of your large windows, their soft light complementing the flicker of vanilla-scented candles scattered across the room. The atmosphere felt magical, almost like you were preparing for a scene in one of Nicholas’s movies—but tonight, the star was you.

Your "HOTTIES GETTING READY 🍸💗" playlist blasted through your Alexa speaker, Sabrina Carpenter’s upbeat lyrics urging you to sway your hips as you moved. The giddy excitement bubbling in your chest spilled into every movement: the way you twirled in front of the mirror, the occasional shimmy as you reached for another makeup brush, and the soft giggles that escaped your lips whenever you caught your reflection.

Your vanity table, a beloved thrift find, was adorned with an explosion of beauty products. Palettes, brushes, and compacts were arranged like tools in an artist’s studio, each chosen carefully to create the masterpiece that was you tonight.

Seated at the vanity, you leaned in close to the mirror, your curls bouncing lightly with the motion. You added the finishing touches to your makeup: a delicate shimmer highlighting your cheekbones, a precise wing of eyeliner that drew attention to your sparkling eyes, and a deep crimson lipstick that Nicholas had once declared "dangerous." The way the shade made your full lips pop was undeniable, and you smiled, pleased with the effect.

Your curves were hugged by a black dress that flowed over your body like a second skin. Stopping at the mid-thigh, it was a classic little black dress with a timeless silhouette and a sweetheart neckline that drew eyes directly to your décolletage and cleavage.

The fabric accentuated the softness of your figure—the swell of your hips, the dip of your waist, the fullness of your chest. The dress had been an indulgence, a piece you’d bought after seeing how it made you feel: sexy, confident, powerful. As you smoothed your hands down its sleek lines, you couldn’t help but admire yourself in the full-length mirror.

You had always loved your body. It had taken years to cultivate the confidence you now carried with pride, but tonight, you felt it in every fiber of your being. You were beautiful. And Nicholas, your boyfriend of almost a year, never let you forget it.

He’d been away for three months, filming a secret project in Europe. While the distance had been hard, you’d kept in touch with texts, calls, and plenty of late-night FaceTimes. But nothing compared to the real thing—to having him home, finally able to hold you in his arms. Tonight was your first date since his return, and though you’d suggested he rest after landing, Nicholas had been insistent.

You smiled to yourself as you remembered his words: “Sleep can wait. I need to see you.”

You really did think it was a good idea for Nicholas to get some rest after his flight. He had spent weeks on set, pouring himself into his role and managing the grueling hours of filming. But deep down, you knew rest wasn’t an option—not when it came to you. Nicholas could never resist you, and truthfully, you loved it. After all, you hadn’t exactly made it easy for him to keep his distance while he was away.

From the moment he boarded his flight for Europe, you had made it your mission to remind him exactly what was waiting for him back home. It started innocently enough: a few sultry selfies in his favorite lingerie, each one showing off how the lace hugged your curves just right. But it didn’t take long for you to turn up the heat.

Fresh out of the shower, droplets clinging to your skin, you’d let the steam fog the mirror just enough to add a teasing edge. Then came the quick videos: the camera lingering on your soft, full figure as you massaged your breasts or gave a playful slap to your ass, letting him see exactly what he was missing. You knew what Nicholas loved most—the way you filled his hands completely, yet still left more for him to hold. And you loved reminding him of it.

But one night, it all escalated. A little wine-drunk and missing him more than usual, you’d drawn yourself a bubble bath. The warm water and frothy bubbles felt indulgent, and with your phone propped securely on the edge of the tub, you put on a show just for Nicholas. You let the camera capture the way the water caressed your curves, your body glistening under the soft glow of candlelight. You posed and shifted, the bubbles teasingly obscuring parts of you before you’d lift a leg or arch your back, leaving just enough for his imagination to run wild.

His response had been immediate.

nickypoo 💘

You’re killing me, baby. How am I supposed to survive three more weeks of this?

you:

just giving you something to look forward to <3

He hadn’t stopped there, though. After a few more minutes of teasing, he sent another message that made you burst out laughing:

nickypoo 💘

I’m about to tell them there’s an emergency back home. They don’t need to know the emergency is how bad i NEED you.

You’d teased him relentlessly for it during your next FaceTime call, but you couldn’t deny how good it felt to be wanted like that. Knowing Nicholas adored every part of you, from the playful curve of your smile to the plush softness of your body, made the separation a little easier to bear.

And now, after all those weeks apart, he was finally on his way.

The sound of the lock clicking echoed through your apartment, followed by the familiar creak of the door opening. “Baby, I’m just finishing up in the bedroom!” you called out, checking your reflection one last time in the mirror. “I’ll be out in a minute!”

Nicholas didn’t respond right away, but you heard the soft thud of his bag hitting the floor and the shuffle of his footsteps as he made his way inside. There was a pause, followed by the unmistakable sigh of relief he always seemed to release when he was at your apartment.

When you finally stepped out of your bedroom, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. He was standing near the couch, looking relaxed yet strikingly handsome in a fitted black sweater and dark jeans. His brown eyes lit up the second they landed on you, and for a moment, he just stood there, taking you in like you were the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen.

“Damn,” he finally managed, his voice low and reverent.

Before you could reply, Nicholas closed the distance between you in three long strides. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a hug so tight it felt like he was trying to merge you into himself. His hands roamed instinctively to your waist, fingers pressing into the plushness of your curves like he was grounding himself in the feel of you.

“God, I missed you,” he murmured, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His voice was muffled, but you could hear the raw emotion behind it.

Your arms came up around his back, holding him just as tightly. His body was warm and solid against yours, and the familiar scent of his cologne—a mix of cedarwood and something earthy—wrapped around you like a comforting blanket.

After a long moment, Nicholas pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still holding your waist. His gaze was intense, his brown eyes darting over your face like he was trying to memorize every detail. Then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed you.

It wasn’t a light, playful kiss. It was deep, almost desperate, like he’d been starving for you and you were the only thing that could satisfy him. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine, yet there was a tenderness to it—a gentleness that reminded you just how much he cared.

You broke the kiss with a soft laugh, brushing your fingers over your lips. “Okay, as much as I love this,” you teased, “I just spent way too much time on my makeup to let you ruin it before we even leave.”

Nicholas groaned, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t care about the makeup,” he muttered, his voice gravelly and thick with desire. His hands slid down to your hips, squeezing them in a way that made you feel worshipped. “You’re so damn beautiful, it hurts.”

The way he said it, with absolute conviction, made your cheeks warm. “You’re not playing fair,” you said, trying to maintain your composure, though the fluttering in your chest betrayed you.

His lips curved into a grin, one of his dimples making an appearance as he leaned back to look at you. “I haven’t even started yet.”

As if to prove his point, one of his hands slid up your thigh, the warmth of his palm searing through the fabric of your dress. His touch was deliberate, teasing, and the look in his eyes told you exactly where his mind was heading.

You caught his wrist before he could go any further, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t get all dressed up just for you to ruin it now,” you said, your tone playful but firm.

Nicholas let out an exaggerated groan, throwing his head back with a dramatic sigh. His hair fell into soft waves around his face, and when he finally looked at you again, his grin had only grown wider. “Fine,” he relented, though the glint in his eye told you he wasn’t giving up so easily.

You pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, then trailed your lips along his jawline, stopping just below his ear. “If you can wait until after dinner,” you whispered, your voice low and teasing, “I promise it’ll be worth it.”

His eyebrows shot up, and his lips parted slightly as a sly grin spread across his face. “Oh, you’re trouble,” he murmured, his voice tinged with amusement and a touch of awe.

You turned toward the door to grab your shoes and jacket, but before you could take two steps, a loud smack echoed through the room as Nicholas’s hand came down on your ass. The contact was firm, leaving a faint sting that made you yelp in surprise.

“Nicholas!” you exclaimed, spinning around to glare at him, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed your annoyance.

He bit his bottom lip, clearly pleased with himself. “Sorry,” he said, though his grin was anything but apologetic. “I couldn’t help it.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a smile as you grabbed your shoes. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered, slipping them on.

Nicholas raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. “Okay, okay—I’ll relax,” he said, though his eyes lingered on you in a way that told you he was far from done admiring you.

As you reached for your jacket, you couldn’t help but glance back at him. The sight of him, so completely enamored and entirely yours, made your heart swell. It had been three long months, but in this moment, it felt like no time had passed at all.

————

When you walked down to the car, the sight waiting for you made your heart skip. Parked by the curb was Nicholas’s beloved cherry-red 1967 Mustang, gleaming under the soft glow of the streetlights. Sitting in the passenger seat was the biggest bouquet of flowers you’d ever seen—an explosion of rich red roses, delicate baby’s breath, and fragrant lilies. You couldn’t hold back your joy, practically leaping into his arms before peppering his face with kisses. Nicholas laughed, a low, happy sound that vibrated against your chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

The drive to the gallery was filled with light conversation and your playlist humming in the background, his hand firmly resting on your thigh, fingers occasionally giving it a little squeeze. At the gallery walk, Nicholas’s attention stayed on you more than the art.

As you strolled through the exhibits, his touch was constant—never intrusive, just reassuring. His hand rested gently on your lower back as you navigated the crowded rooms, steering you effortlessly through clusters of art enthusiasts. When you stopped to read a placard, he’d step behind you, his hands settling on your hips, his chest lightly brushing your back.

Whenever your eyes met, he’d steal a kiss—a quick peck if someone was nearby, but when the moment allowed, he’d dip down to claim something deeper, making you momentarily forget the world around you.

At dinner, he was utterly captivated. Candlelight danced in his warm, brown eyes as he hung on to your every word. You laughed about some silly drama your friends were having, vented about the weird maintenance issues in your building, and recounted the wild dreams you’d had while he was away. Through it all, his gaze never wavered. He was enthralled—not just by your words but by the way your lips moved, the sparkle in your eyes, and the sound of your laughter.

Surprisingly, the drive home was calm, though his hand remained a grounding presence on your leg. Even in the elevator, where you half-expected him to lose control, he was restrained—his eyes on you, dark with promise, but his body relaxed.

But the second you stepped through your apartment door, all bets were off.

————

You barely had a moment to close the door before Nicholas’s lips found yours, urgent and consuming. His hands tugged at your coat as if the barrier was offensive, and when he finally had it off, his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips moved with a desperate hunger, yet there was still that softness to them, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to devour you or savor every second.

His fingers trailed up your sides, gripping at your curves in a way that made you shiver. “I told you I could wait,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and gravelly with a smile. Before you could respond, he lifted you effortlessly, his hands firmly grasping the plushness of your thighs, carrying you deeper into the apartment as if he couldn’t wait a second longer to have you all to himself.

Nicholas carried you effortlessly to the bedroom, his lips never straying far from yours. The kisses varied—some deep and consuming, others soft and teasing, but all filled with an undeniable need. When he finally set you down, it was in front of your full-length mirror, the glow from your bedroom’s soft lighting casting a golden hue over the scene.

You caught sight of yourself in the mirror, your chest rising and falling with each breath, lips already swollen from his kisses. Behind you, Nicholas stood tall, his hands resting on your hips as he pressed a kiss to the bare skin of your shoulder.

“You were breathtaking tonight,” he murmured against your skin, his voice deep and low, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. He kissed the curve where your shoulder met your neck, then trailed his lips upward until they found that spot just below your ear that always made you melt. “And you know it,” he added, his tone playful but dripping with sincerity.

His hands slid from your hips to your waist, squeezing gently as he pressed closer to you. You could feel the warmth of his chest against your back, his steady breath brushing against your ear. “Do you know why I put you here?” he asked, his voice a husky whisper.

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “Why?” you managed, your voice breathy and light.

“Because I want you to watch,” he said, his lips curling into a sly grin as he began to trail kisses down the curve of your neck again. “I want you to see how beautiful you are, how much I adore every inch of you.” His kisses grew slower, deeper, as he slid his hands down to your hips again.

Nicholas’s kisses grew hungrier as his hands slid the straps of your dress off your shoulders. His lips trailed over the newly exposed skin, his breath warm against your collarbone, making your pulse race. With a soft sigh, the fabric slipped further down, and Nicholas took his time kissing every inch of skin revealed to him until the dress pooled at your feet.

For a moment, he pulled back to take you in, his eyes darkening as they roamed over your curves, lingering on the black lingerie you’d chosen. His hands spanned your waist, his touch firm yet reverent, like he couldn’t believe you were real.

“God, you’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with admiration. His fingers traced the curve of your hips, his hands splaying over the softness of your stomach, your thighs. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your jaw as he whispered, “You have no idea how much I’ve missed this. How much I’ve missed you.”

Heat flooded your cheeks, but before you could respond, he kissed you again—deep and deliberate, like he was pouring every ounce of emotion into the connection. His hands skimmed up your sides, over the swell of your breasts, and back down again, his touch leaving trails of fire on your skin.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured between kisses, his lips moving to your neck. “So warm. Do you know how obsessed I am with you? With this body?” His hands caressed your waist again, his grip tightening like he couldn’t help himself. “You drive me crazy. I swear, I’ll never get enough of you.”

“Nicholas…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, trembling under his touch.

He smiled against your skin, a slow, knowing grin as he gently guided you toward the dresser. “Lean here,” he said softly, helping you rest against the cool wood. Behind you, the mirror reflected everything—the way your chest rose and fell, the flush creeping across your skin, and Nicholas towering over you, his presence magnetic.

He caught your gaze in the mirror as he placed his hands on either side of you, caging you in. “I want you to watch,” he said, his voice low and commanding but filled with adoration. “I want you to see why I worship you.”

Your breath hitched as he tilted your chin up, kissing you deeply once more. His hands slid over your body with a confidence that made your knees weak, each touch deliberate, almost reverent. He kissed down your neck, over your collarbone, and then lower, his lips trailing along the tops of your breasts.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Nicholas dropped to his knees, his hands anchoring on your hips as his lips continued their descent. His fingers grazed your thighs, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. He pressed kisses to your stomach, lingering there, his lips soft but insistent.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmured against your skin, his brown eyes lifting to meet yours. The intensity in his gaze sent a fresh wave of warmth pooling in your belly. His hands slipped to the waistband of your panties, and with an effortless tug, he slid them down your legs.

He helped you step out of them, his hands strong but tender as he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder. The position left you exposed, vulnerable, but the way he held you—like you were the most precious thing in the world—put you completely at ease.

Nicholas pressed a series of kisses to the inside of your thighs, his lips slow and deliberate, as though savoring every second. His fingers gripped your thighs firmly, grounding himself in your softness.

“Look at yourself,” he said, his voice rough but gentle, his breath warm against your skin. “Look at how beautiful you are when I’m making you feel good.”

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting your reflection in the mirror. The sight of yourself—flushed and trembling, your chest rising and falling with anticipation—made your pulse quicken. But it was the way Nicholas looked at you, his gaze filled with a mix of reverence and hunger, that made your heart ache in the best way.

He leaned in, his tongue gliding over your sensitive flesh, and you gasped, your hands gripping the dresser for support. His movements were precise, deliberate, as though he was learning every reaction, every sound you made.

Your head fell back briefly as the pleasure built, but Nicholas’s voice brought you back. “No, baby,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze again in the mirror. “I want you to see this. I want you to see how gorgeous you are when you fall apart for me.”

His lips returned to you, his tongue and mouth working in perfect harmony as his hands anchored you in place. Every stroke, every kiss felt like an act of devotion, as though he was pouring every ounce of his love for you into his touch.

Every swipe of Nicholas’s tongue against your aching core sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body. His touch was maddeningly tender yet intentional, each flick and stroke designed to unravel you completely. Your knees faltered under the onslaught of sensation, but Nicholas was always there—his grip tightening, his strong arms grounding you. You felt the flex of his biceps as he held you steady, his strength wrapping around you like a promise that he wouldn’t let you fall.

Your gaze flicked to the mirror, and the sight made your breath hitch. You were a mess —your chest rising and falling with desperate heaves, your skin flushed with heat. Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth, a vain attempt to stifle the moans and whimpers spilling from you.

“I love it when you moan like that, baby,” Nicholas murmured, pulling back just enough to speak, his voice a low rumble that sent a fresh wave of heat through you. His lips were wet with your arousal, his eyes dark and hooded as they bore into yours. “Tell me how bad you need me, baby.”

Your voice trembled as you replied, barely able to form the words between your gasps. “So bad, Nicholas. I need you—I’m gonna cum.”

The admission spurred him on. His hands gripped your thighs tighter, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he returned his mouth to you with renewed fervor. The rhythm of his tongue became more relentless, his movements perfectly in sync with your rising tension.

Your hands flew to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as the pressure inside you reached its peak. “Nicholas—” you gasped, your voice breaking as the first wave of your orgasm crashed over you. Your body tensed, trembling against him as you cried out, the pleasure consuming you completely.

Nicholas didn’t stop, his grip firm as he held you steady, coaxing every last shudder from your body. When you finally came down, your breaths ragged and your legs weak, he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh before rising to his feet.

Before you could fully catch your breath, Nicholas turned you around with ease, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss so heated it stole what little air you’d regained. His hands worked quickly, unbuckling his belt and shoving his pants and boxers down in one fluid motion.

He guided you to lean forward, your hands bracing against the dresser as he positioned himself behind you. His hands gripped your hips, the rough pads of his fingers pressing into your softness as he aligned himself with your entrance.

The first slow, deliberate thrust stole your breath entirely. Nicholas let out a low, guttural moan as he entered you, his hands steadying your hips as he adjusted to your tightness. “Fuck baby, I missed this pussy,” he rasped, his voice rough and shaky. “You’re so tight baby ... You feel so good.”

His hips began to move, the slow rhythm building gradually, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure through your overstimulated body. Nicholas’s hands roamed over your hips and thighs, grounding himself in the feel of you.

His eyes were locked on the way your body moved with his, the way your plush curves rippled with every thrust. The sight seemed to undo him. He groaned low in his throat, his hand drawing back before landing a sharp slap against your ass.

The sensation made you cry out, the sharp sting blending with the pleasure coursing through you. Nicholas’s grip tightened, and he let out a grunt at your reaction. “You like that, baby?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

“Yes,” you managed to moan, your voice shaky but insistent. “Do it again.”

A wicked smile curved his lips as he complied, his hand landing another firm slap against your skin. The sound echoed in the room, followed by your moan, and he couldn’t stop himself from doing it again—and again, the rhythm of his thrusts growing more erratic with each deliciously sharp impact.

“You’re so good for me,” he groaned, his voice rough and breathless.

Nicholas’s thrusts grew faster, each stroke deeper than the last. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers pressing into your soft skin as he lost himself in the rhythm of your bodies. Each time his hand came down on your ass, the sharp sting sent a new wave of arousal through both of you, his groans mingling with your breathless cries.

His voice, a perfect mix of raspy and grumbly, edged with desperate whines, drove you wild. The sound was so raw, so unfiltered—it made you ache to give him the same overwhelming pleasure he was giving you.

You began to pick up on his rhythm, matching his movements with your own. Arching your back further, you started to throw your hips into him, meeting his thrusts with equal force. The shift in control made Nicholas let out a loud, guttural moan, his hands faltering for a moment as you took the lead.

“I love when you fuck me back like this,” he groaned, his hands slipping from your hips as he let “Baby, you’re so good.”

The praise spurred you on, your movements growing faster, more deliberate. You felt his resolve weakening, his breaths coming in short, ragged bursts as you took control. Each roll of your hips sent him deeper into bliss, and the sound of your bodies colliding filled the room—a symphony of moans, skin meeting skin, and the creak of the dresser beneath your weight.

Nicholas was completely yours now, his body trembling as you worked him. “You’re such a good girl,” he gasped between his moans, his voice thick with adoration. “So perfect for me. Just like that—don’t stop.”

But when he couldn’t take it any longer, his hands returned to your hips, gripping you with renewed urgency. He thrust into you harder, faster, his strokes relentless as he chased his release.

“I’m gonna cum baby doll,” he rasped, his voice breaking with the force of his pleasure.

The moment the words left his mouth, you turned your head slightly, your voice breathy but sure. “I want you to finish in my mouth.”

Nicholas groaned, his movements faltering for a split second before he regained his rhythm, thrusting into you a little longer before pulling out with a sharp gasp.

He guided you down to your knees, standing over you as he stroked himself, his hand moving in frantic, desperate motions. His brown eyes locked onto yours, filled with hunger and adoration as you tilted your head back, lips parted, waiting for him.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered, his voice trembling with need.

Moments later, his release spilled into your mouth, warm and overwhelming. You took him in fully, your tongue swirling around his sensitive tip as he shuddered above you. His head tipped back, his chest heaving as he let out a low, broken moan, his entire body trembling with the force of his climax.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice weak as his hands gripped the edge of the dresser for balance.

You didn’t stop there, teasing him with gentle flicks of your tongue, savoring the taste of him as his knees nearly buckled. His back hunched as he let out a weak chuckle, his hand coming to rest on your cheek.

“Baby, please,” he begged, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Your lips curved into a satisfied smile as you pulled away, placing a soft kiss on his hip before sitting back on your heels. Nicholas reached down, pulling you back up into his arms, his forehead pressing to yours as he caught his breath.

But then, his lips brushed against your ear, and you felt the familiar heat of his words. “Don’t think I’m done with you yet,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise. “I still need to have you… all of you.”

His hands slid down your sides, leaving a trail of goosebumps before giving your ass a playful slap. “Get on the bed,” he said with a mischievous grin, his brown eyes gleaming. “I want to see that gorgeous face of yours when I make you cum again.”

[squeakadeeks]

merry christmas my gift to you is telling a terrible tale since I think enough time has passed (ie over a decade) that i can tell you this without exploding.

when i was like 12 and starting out with art, i was so excited to open commissions just like a ✨real artist✨ and it being deviantart in the 2010's, within about a month i got someone asking for furry inflation fetish art. being a kid and having no sex ed, let alone the insanely specific sex ed that would be needed for me to understand what that is, i didnt flag it as inappropriate. I thought it would just be a "cool anatomy exercise like ✨real✨ artists do!" i was so ready and i took it on for 200 llamabucks or w/e the onsite currency was at the time. i did it, i drew it, whatever. well sure enough after posting it i quickly learned what furry inflation art actually was and i was mortified. being in like.....7th grade i was still terrified of sex and i was worried about my parents finding out so i took the entire sketchbook and buried it under my mattress. I lived in fear for months afterwards and felt like i deserved to be shot for falling for it and making something sinful.

the proceeding events happen in a confusing haze because my mother is an utterly puzzling woman so some suspension of disbelief is required but believe me when i say. i wish this was apocryphal. I dont know how or why, but some how some way my mom not only finds the sketchbook under my mattress, goes through the entire thing, finds the one singular offending sketch, then in a concerning mystery i will invest not a single iota of effort to solve due to the implications, immediately clocked that it was sexual fetish art. the one saving grace of a spherical wolf being niche enough that people wouldnt understand the dark deed i had done was out the window. She rips the page out, goes downstairs and parades it to the rest of the family like: "oh my god! look what ____ drew! lets all look at this! lets all look at this right now and laugh at it!" even with just this, i'm full on bursting into heavy hiccuping tears. as a kid this was the ultimate nightmare. you did something bad, you did something really bad, and your primary authority figure not only found it, but is now making sure everyone else you care about also knows the horrible shameful thing you did. except. there was something i couldnt have fathomed at the time that was about to get much, much worse.

my grandfather was dying of parkinson's at the time. when my mother took the sketch and displayed it to everyone like an auctioneer with a high ticket item, i ran out of the room sobbing so i never saw what happened to the blue inflated wolf with punk bangs. Well we all went to visit grandpa. we're all sitting around grandpa who used to be a famous local artist and was a big inspiration to me as a kid. and my mom goes "hey. ____ also wants to be an artist. Do you want to see what they drew?" and you'll never fucking guess what she pulls out of her pocket. hes barely able to turn and look over only to see that goddamn motherfucking wolf again. unlike before where i was crying so hard i couldn't breathe i remember being dead silent and stone still in shock. i dont think i blinked for 5 minutes but when i got up i threw up in the bathroom lol. I cant remember how but this time i did actually get the sketch back and i tore it to pieces and buried it in the yard. it haunted me for YEARS

but anyway now i have a memory of my mother showing my dying grandfather furry inflation art that i accidentally made when i was in middle school because i wanted a rainbow llama badge on deviantart.

[goddessofroyalty]

Hey! I binge read all of your Work/Life Balance fic last night and loved it. The way you kept them in character was amazing. For Viktor, I could hear his lines in my head in his voice.

I saw you were still low-key taking prompts for it. An idea came to mind about Viktor's own reaction to finding out he was pregnant? Especially to be about 3 months when he found out?(If I mathed correctly lol) I know you alluded to his whole "testing multiple pregnancy tests" but I think it would be interesting to see his full reaction, coming to terms with it, and potentially his failed attempts to tell Jayce because it wasn't the perfect time?

Prompt Idea: Viktor's reaction to actually finding out he is pregnant and the failed attempts to tell Jayce that you mentioned in Work/Life Balance? Idk, just kinda think it would be cute

Glad you enjoyed the fic! I think I got all the parts of these two prompts.

In the version of the final scene in my head before I wrote it Jayce actually kept going out and getting a new pregnancy test after the previous ones positive. I feel like what I’ve gone with is possibly funnier (and a lot less repetitive to write/read).

Tags: omegaverse, mpreg, thoughts/concerns about miscarriage

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

The nurse hands Viktor a pregnancy test with the same amount of enthusiasm as she had the paperwork.

It is the correct amount of enthusiasm given the circumstances.

Nobody actually thinks he is pregnant. The doctors having years ago had the conversation with him about how, with his health, he would very likely be unable to conceive. They had been so gentle with their words and moved the tissue box closer with them despite how little it had actually bothered him. Relationships and children barely worth a thought compared to his work.

Policy dictates that, as he is being sexually active, they must check to be sure before doing any scans that may harm a fetus if he was carrying one.

He’d just lie about it if it wasn’t for how Jayce’s habit of scenting him every opportunity he can means half the time the box is already ticked before he’s even handed the form.

So Viktor takes the cup and the paper-wrapped stick to the bathroom and waits the ten minutes it takes for the little negative sign to appear so the nurse can tick the box on the form that says, yes, they checked, and Viktor can return to his notepad while he waits his turn. His plans for what work he should be able to get done after his appointment is finished well-formed when the results finally show up.

Viktor grabs the piece of plastic and only pauses to look at the thing because it doesn’t seem to be the familiar negative he knows.

Probably just a different brand than they usually get.

He digs the instructions out of the bin just to be sure.

After unfolding and refolding the leaflet so just the bit with what the results mean is on the front he holds the instructions in one hand and test in the other. Comparing the results against which means what.

Pregnant.

The two lines in that exact position apparently mean he’s pregnant.

When they had first started making him take them Viktor had looked up the reliability of them hoping for some argument that they were a waste of everyone’s time. It hadn’t succeeded at his goal at the time but had left him with the knowledge that false positives were basically impossible.

He is, apparently, pregnant.

He returns to the front desk in the reception on autopilot. Standing before the bored-looking receptionist who expects him to tell her that the test was negative as expected and that she can finish checking him in for the scan.

Because he shouldn’t be pregnant.

He can’t be pregnant.

Yes, perhaps, maybe he and Jayce were not as diligent with protection as they could be. Sometimes they got caught up in their excitement of their latest breakthrough and getting the condoms the last thing on their minds. But nothing should have come from it because Viktor’s body had never been healthy enough to even give him a consistent heat schedule.

“I will have to cancel my appointment today,” Viktor says. Only realizing he had brought the test with him when he clenches the hand not holding his cane and feels the plastic dig into his skin.

The receptionist opens her mouth to no doubt ask why he would need to cancel when he’s already there for it. A flash of surprise crosses her face as she no-doubt remembers what she had had him do and the obvious conclusion of the two pieces of information she has before returning to professional friendliness.

“Of course. Let us know if you need to rebook.”

She doesn’t say congratulations or any of the other things you are apparently meant to when somebody informs you they are pregnant, which is good, because Viktor doesn’t know how would respond.

“Yes, of course,” he says with a sharp nod. “Thank you.”

The smile she gives is devoid of any excitement or judgement. The smile of a professional who has been taught that something like this can mean something very different to different patients.

Viktor shuffles out of the clinic, ignoring the bored stares of the others in the waiting room until he is out on the street. The pregnancy test still in hand.

He tosses it into the first bin he finds of course. It is very unhygienic to carry around something that has had his urine on it. Keeping it with him won’t change the situation. If he needs evidence when he tells Jayce he can always take another one.

How is he ever going to tell Jayce?

No.

No he needs to be realistic. False positives are impossible but it may be a case that an embryo was created and implanted before his body rejected it. A reminder that they should stop being lax about the condoms. There no point mentioning it to Jayce if that is the case.

No, first Viktor should book an appointment to test again under doctor’s supervision. By then if it was just a momentary thing the hormones will have cleared from his system and he can forget all about it.

There is no need to get Jayce involved yet.

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

“When was your last heat?” the doctor asks after Viktor returns from peeing on another stick that does not return the expected negative despite it having been long enough since the scan appointment that had it been an immediate miscarriage any residual hormones should have left his system.

“A year ago.” His heats had never been regular so skipping three was hardly a cause for suspicion or concern.

The doctor’s brow furrows because a lack of an obvious heat makes it harder to figure out any kind of timeline of conception.

“Have you experienced any bleeding?”

“No.” Not that it really proved anything from the reading Viktor had done after the initial positive result. If his body had rejected the pregnancy early enough it is easy for even omegas to miss the resulting passing.

“Has there been a single incident of your contraception methods failing?” the doctor asks. “For example, did the condom break during-“

“Eh-“ Viktor grimaces because there wasn’t really a single incident of a condom breaking but rather a common enough occurrence of them forgoing using one entirely.

“Right,” the doctor says, thankfully saving Viktor from having to say it. “In that case I think it is best to arrange an ultrasound to confirm if there is any evidence of pregnancy, and, if there is, how far along.”

Viktor nods as he tries to figure out where to fit another appointment in with the new project. It would be far easier if Jayce was around more instead of being dragged around by councilors and investors in wherever their whims take them.

“I also wouldn’t suggest informing anyone about this,” the doctor continues. “You may be very early into a pregnancy, and, with your other health concerns-“

There is a good chance he still may miscarry. No reason to bring it up with Jayce until they are more certain.

“Of course.”

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

“Have you told your alpha yet?” the ultrasound technician asks as she smears gel over Viktor’s exposed stomach.

“No.” there is no point considering it would likely end in miscarriage.

“Well that’s hardly fair to keep all the excitement to yourself,” the technician says as she reaches over for the ultrasound, moving it around his stomach clearly searching for his uterus.

“It is still early. I will tell him once it is far enough along to not be likely to miscarry.”

“You shouldn’t think like that!” the technician says, glancing at him quickly before returning her attention to the screen.

“I am just being realistic.” A pregnancy does not necessarily mean you will end up with a baby. Especially not if one’s health is like Viktor’s.

“So you are just going to keep it to yourself until you’re 3 months along?” the technician asks, her movements less broad. Likely trying to find any evidence of a very early pregnancy.

“Yes.” Things are easier that way.

“In that case you’re gonna’ want to figure out how to tell him,” she says before spinning around the screen so he can see his uterus and the baby-shaped blog within in. “Because three months is about where’d I put you. Congratulations.”

Viktor likely wouldn’t have believed her if he couldn’t see it with his own eyes. Which is probably why she showed him the screen. But, sure enough, there it was. Not a full baby but also not a bundle of cells of a new implantation.

“I haven’t had any symptoms.” Nothing that made him think anything had changed other than his sickness.

“Some people get lucky like that,” the technician says with a shrug. She presses a button on the screen that causes it to pause on the images while she removes the ultrasound from his stomach and offers him a tissue to wipe the gel off. Her hand suddenly resting on his knee. “I’ll arrange for a printout for you at the front desk. Maybe that’ll help you with telling your alpha yeah?”

“Thank you.” He doesn’t know if a print out of an ultrasound will actually help him tell Jayce but he supposes it is better to have it and not need it than not have it.

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

Viktor stands in front of the mirror in just his boxers staring at the reflection of his still completely flat stomach. His hands running along it feeling for any sign of a swell that could be the baby that was apparently in there and finding nothing.

It always takes longer for omega men to show, the ultrasound technician had said with a laugh like he was stupid for asking how he could possibly be 3 months along without a single outward sign. Your hips hold everything a bit further back. I wouldn’t worry through. Give it a couple weeks and you’ll have a bump for you and your alpha to fall in love with.

It still doesn’t feel real though. Not even with the print out of the scan that shows the very real fetus apparently resting in his uterus.

The door swings open but Jayce immediately turns around when he notices Viktor’s state of undress.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realis you were changing,” Jayce says despite the fact they have both seen each other completely naked. The fact that they had managed to make a baby together, even if Jayce doesn’t know that piece of information yet.

“It is fine,” Viktor says, grabbing his shirt and quickly buttoning it up on himself. It’s ridiculous, if Viktor can’t see any evidence of pregnancy there is no way Jayce will. But the idea of Jayce finding out before Viktor has the chance when it is clear Viktor should know is unpleasant.

Viktor grabs his cane from where he had hung it over the edge of the desk. Shoving the scan printout under some notes as he does.

“You can look now,” Viktor says because Jayce clearly isn’t going to unless he’s told he can.

Jayce turns around immediately. Beaming at Viktor in his fond way.

“Does this mean you’ll be joining the dinner tonight?”

“What? No! I was just-“ trying to see if he could see their baby. Which, if he were to tell Jayce now, would not see the alpha attending the dinner either. And while Viktor does not actually care about stealing Piltover’s Golden Boy from his adoring fans, Jayce’s growing social requirements are an necessary evil for their progress. “It does not matter. I will not be attending.”

“Come on Vik, please, for me,” Jayce says, coming over to wrap his arms around Viktor. He easily slots his head onto Viktor’s shoulder, the pout on his face reflected back on them in the mirror. “You can’t force me to go to another one alone.”

“I think you will find I can,” Viktor says, but leans into the warmth of Jayce’s body. “Anyway, they do not want me there.”

“I want you there.” Jayce’s grip tightens as he nuzzles against Viktor’s neck more like a young pup than the proud alpha he is. “Please Viktor.”

“I-“ could cause a scandal if he really wanted to. Drop the news halfway through the party when the gaggle of over-interested omegas swarm Jayce in the hopes of winning his attention. Have all of Piltover talking by morning. “-have work to do.”

It is hard for Jayce to argue with that. Their work as important to him as it is Viktor.

“It’s unfair you know,” Jayce says as he draws away, fixing his coast in the mirror. He looks every bit the charismatic leader Piltover imagines him to be. “That you get to stay in our lab working while I have to keep listening to the same conversation about the weather all night.”

“That is the price you pay for being the face of progress.”

“Not funny Vik,” Jayce says, but leans down for a quick kiss all the same. “I’ll try and sneak out and join you after the first round of being introduced to everyone.”

“Do not do anything that would have Councilor Kirramman unhappy with you.”

“Don’t worry – I’ll get Cait to cover for me,” Jayce promises before slipping out to head to the event.

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

Strong arms wrap around Viktor as he stands in front of the blackboard in their lab. Jayce’s head coming to rest against the top of his as the warmth of the alpha’s body seeps through the back of Viktor’s clothes.

“I missed you,” Jayce mumbles against Viktor’s hair. Nuzzling into it was if it is at all an effective way to pick up someone’s scent so far away from any of the actual scent-glands. “You smell good.”

Viktor tenses at that. Of course the pregnancy would be starting to affect his scent, making him even more appealing to his alpha in a biological attempt to keep their support there for the pregnancy and hopefully beyond. If he was as far along as he apparently was it’s surprising it hadn’t started to change already. And Jayce is not stupid. He will likely realize what could be causing it.

It might work in Viktor’s favor though. Let Jayce figure it out and claim ignorance.

All he has to do is act surprised. He can do that.

“Sorry,” Jayce says, drawing away. “I didn’t mean to break your focus.”

He didn’t think anything of the change in scent then.

“It is fine.” Nothing ground breaking had been happening. “Are you finished for the day?”

Viktor could just tell him about the pregnancy. It is not as if there is anything he cannot pause for the afternoon.

“I wish,” Jayce says with a whine. “I have another meeting in an hour. I just wanted to come check on- ah- our work!”

There will be no telling him today than.

“In that case there is something I wanted your opinion on,” Viktor says because he will take what he can get of Jayce’s mind before he has to hand him back to Piltover’s elites.

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

“Jayce do you have a minute?” Viktor asks on what is becoming a rare afternoon where Jayce can just stay in the lab without having to run off to some social engagement or investors meeting. Nothing that he need not be distracted for.

“Yeah, of course,” Jayce says, dropping what he is working on to come over. He leans over Viktor’s shoulders to examine what he is working on, expecting it to be about that. “What do you need?”

“What I need is to tell you something.” Viktor can feel how Jayce almost freezes at it. The alpha’s attention now fully on him.

Viktor wonders what Jayce thinks he’s going to tell him. Likely not that he is pregnant.

Before Viktor can find the words the door to the lab swings open and Mel hurries in with a hustle that is as close as Viktor thinks he’s ever seen her do to running.

“Oh good you’re here – I need you to talk to the new investor.”

“What? Why?” Jayce asks, craning his neck to look over to Mel but not moving from where he is leant over Viktor.

“He has concerns about the safety of the Hexgates and is threatening to pull funding as a result.”

“That is ridiculous. The Gates are perfectly safe!” Heimerdinger wouldn’t have let them go ahead if they weren’t.

“I know that! But he isn’t being convinced by me. I have him in a room and he’s agreed to discuss with you first, but, we do not have much time before he walks.”

“Go,” Viktor says before Jayce can think about refusing. “My news can wait.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” The pregnancy isn’t going anywhere but the investor apparently is.

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

“You deserve this more than I do,” Jayce says, holding out a drink to Viktor now they have both returned home from the investors meeting where they displayed their latest prototype. An identical glass in his other hand. “You did more of the work than I did.”

“You kept the investors happy.” Viktor would also rather Jayce in the lab with him but somebody has to be the face of their work and Jayce is far better suited for it than Viktor. “And, ah, none for me.”

Alcohol and pregnancy do not mix. Not that Jayce knows about that fact yet. The two barely getting to spend more than a moment together the last few weeks.

“You can take one night off to celebrate,” Jayce says still holding the glass out.

They do have the night off. The project finished and investors and council happy. Nothing that needs to be done that cannot wait until morning. Nothing he might be taking Jayce away from by telling him about the pregnancy.

“It is not that,” Viktor says, meeting Jayce’s eyes and the adorably puzzled expression. “I cannot drink at the moment on account of, eh, being pregnant.”

The surprise that overtakes Jayce’s face is exactly what Viktor expected all the times he thought about telling him.

“What?”

“I am pregnant,” Viktor confirms.

“Really?” Jayce asks, glancing down at Viktor’s stomach which remains completely flat.

“Yes. The doctors are quite sure.” Viktor wouldn’t be telling Jayce if they weren’t.

“The doctors?” Jayce asks before realization crosses his face, because he does actually know of Viktor’s frequent medical appointments – partners and all. “Right. Of course just-“

Jayce puts the two glasses back on the counter and runs a hand through his hair and this is exactly why Viktor hadn’t told him right before he had another obligation. It would be cruel to send him into a council meeting in the level of shock he is in.

“I-“ Jayce starts, before swallowing and nodding, having made up his mind about something. “Wait here.”

“Wait- what?” Viktor asks as Jayce grabs his coat and heads to the door. “Jayce where are you going?”

“I just need to get something. Don’t go anyway!” Jayce says before racing out the door leaving Viktor alone in the apartment.

“Don’t go anyway. Why would I go anywhere?” Viktor asks to nobody but himself. Sighing before making his way over to the couch to sit and wait for Jayce to return. Setting his cane down beside him.

He is sure Jayce will return and not just because it is his apartment Viktor currently is in. Yes, he’s heard stories of Piltover alphas seeming head over heels for an omega in Zaun only to vanish as soon as a pregnancy is in the picture, but Jayce isn’t like that. Their work, at least, is far too important for him to abandon.

“Can you not inherit his recklessness?” Viktor asks his still flat stomach as he leans back on the cushions and waits.

The door swings open at Jayce’s hast when he returns. The alpha not wasting time taking his coat off, instead rushing to where Viktor is and all-but slamming a handful pregnancy tests on the coffee-table.

“I know you said the doctors are sure,” Jayce rambles before Viktor gets the chance to say anything. “But please, for me?”

It makes sense with Jayce being who he is that he would want tangible proof of his own. And, really, it is not that arduous for Viktor to indulge him this.

“Can I have some water first?” Five tests will require a rather high amount of urine from him after all.

[whosscruffylooking]

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ The Beginning of Us- Chapter 3 ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

Joel Miller x Fem! Reader warnings: mentions of blood, severe injuries, and major character death. word count: 2k a/n: it has been almost 2 years since i last updated this story. i am so sorry! the support was amazing in the beginning and i hope we can get that level of excitement back. i won't be using the old taglist b/c I don't want to spam people who have lost interest, but if you find this story again and want to be re-added, let me know! Series Masterlist

September 27, 2003

The truck lurches forward, its tires screeching against the asphalt as Tommy swerves to avoid yet another police blockade. “We’ve gotta go around,” he announces, his voice tinged with panic.

As he rounds another corner, you see the full scale of the madness that’s overtaking the town. Screaming, desperate civilians rush in all directions. Some push others out of the way, some stumble, half-running, like they’re being driven by something more primal than fear. The streets seem alive with terror. Buildings burn in the distance, casting an orange glow over the chaos. The smell of smoke is thick in the air, mixing with the screeching sirens and the deafening roar of panic.

Joel’s grip on the door handle tightens as Tommy slows down, trying to navigate through the clogged streets—cars, people, debris. “Tommy, you can’t stop here! Just keep going!” Joel’s voice is strained with urgency, the reality of the situation sinking in.

But before Tommy can respond, the sound of a crash cuts through the madness. A stampede of people erupts from a nearby saloon, running in every direction. Some are still human, their faces twisted in terror, but others—others move with that same empty, unfocused stare, like the Adlers.

“Joel!” You shout, heart pounding as you notice more infected spilling into the streets, converging on the chaos like a tide.

“Tommy, back up!” Joel orders, his voice sharp with the kind of authority that leaves no room for hesitation.

“Dad!” Sarah screams, her voice laced with panic as she looks out the window, her eyes wide.

Then, a sound that makes your stomach drop—a roar of an engine overhead. You look up just in time to see a plane plummeting toward you, its engine sputtering, spiraling out of control.

“Tommy! Go forward!” you scream, instinctively grabbing the seatbelt, the panic escalating as the plane gets closer.

The aircraft’s landing gear rips off as it hits the ground with a violent crash. One of its wheels comes careening toward the truck. The impact is bone-jarring. The truck shudders violently, and Tommy swerves, trying to avoid the collision, but it’s too late.

With a sickening crunch, the truck’s wheel rips off, and in an instant, the vehicle flips over. Time seems to slow as the world tilts, your stomach lurching with the motion. Glass shatters, metal groans, and the air is filled with the shrill sound of twisting steel. The world goes black.

»»————————-««

You slowly come to, your head heavy, ears ringing faintly. Everything feels distant, muffled, as though you're underwater. Your body aches, but a sharp, searing pain in your side yanks you fully back to consciousness. Gasping, you try to move, only to find yourself pinned under the weight of the overturned truck. Panic seizes you as you realize you're trapped.

The air is thick with smoke, the acrid scent of gasoline stinging your nose. A faint orange glow flickers nearby, casting dancing shadows around the wreckage. You reach out, your trembling fingers scraping against the rough asphalt as you try to push yourself free. Pain flares in your side, sharp and unforgiving, and you cry out, your voice weak and ragged.

Looking down, you see the source of the agony-a jagged piece of metal embedded in your hip. Blood trickles from the wound, pooling around you, the sight of it making your stomach churn.

A voice breaks through the chaos, muffled and frantic. "Y/N!" It's familiar, pulling you from the haze of pain and fear. You turn your head, squinting through the haze of smoke, just as strong hands grip your arms.

Tommy appears above you, his face streaked with dirt and panic. "I've got you," he says, his voice tight as he pulls you free with a force that makes you cry out. The shrapnel shifts, sending fresh waves of agony through your body.

Tommy cradles you against his chest, his grip firm but careful. "Shit, you're hurt bad," he mutters, glancing at the blood staining your side. 

"We need to move."

"Where… where's Joel?" you manage to whisper, your voice weak and strained.

Tommy doesn't answer right away, his eyes darting toward the wreckage. You follow his gaze, spotting Joel a few yards away. He's cradling Sarah in his arms, her body limp, her head hanging at an unnatural angle. Your breath catches in your throat.

"Joel!" You cry out to him.

"Can you make it?" Joel calls, his voice desperate as he notices you leaning heavily on Tommy.

Before you can respond, the ground shudders beneath you. A police car barrels toward the wreckage, its tires screeching as it careens out of control. Tommy yells, dragging you back just as the car slams into the truck. The crash is deafening, and in an instant, the wreckage erupts into flames, the heat searing your skin.

"Go!" Tommy shouts, pulling you to your feet despite your injury. Joel's voice cuts through the chaos.

"I'll come back for you!" he shouts, but the flames rise higher, swallowing the space between you. Your heart sinks as you watch him disappear into the smoke, Sarah still in his arms.

Tommy tugs you along, his arm around your waist to support your weight. Each step sends fresh jolts of pain through your body, but you push forward, the adrenaline dulling some of the agony.

"Stay with me," Tommy urges, his voice strained but steady.

The sound of frantic footsteps makes you glance over your shoulder. A stampede of people surges toward you, their faces twisted in terror. Some shove past you, others stumble, the chaos swallowing everything in its path.

"Shit," Tommy mutters, tightening his grip on you. The crowd overtakes you both, pushing and jostling. You stumble, nearly falling, but Tommy holds you steady.

"Tommy, you have to go," you gasp, your voice trembling.

"What? No!" He looks at you, his face filled with disbelief.

"Help Joel. Help Sarah," you plead, your grip tightening on his arm. "You need to find them." His jaw clenches, torn between staying with you and the pull of his brother and niece.

"I'm not leaving you," he says, his voice rough with emotion.

"Go!" you shout, your voice stronger now despite the pain. "'I'll hold them off. Just go!"

Tommy hesitates, his face twisted with frustration and guilt. Finally, he nods, his hand lingering on your shoulder for a moment. "I'll come back for you," he says, his voice low but firm.

You force a nod, biting back the fear clawing at your chest.

 "Go."

He turns and disappears into the chaos, leaving you alone in the suffocating heat and smoke. The world feels impossibly quiet for a moment, the distant screams and growls fading into the background.

Then you hear it—a low, guttural growl. Your heart skips a beat as you turn, spotting an infected stumbling toward you. Its pale, bloodied face twitches unnaturally, its vacant eyes locking onto you. Panic grips you as it snarls, its jerky movements bringing it closer with horrifying speed.

You stumble backward, clutching your side, the pain making your legs weak. There's no way you can outrun it, not in your state. Your eyes dart around, searching for anything, anywhere to hide.

You spot an open dumpster a few feet away.

Gritting your teeth, you force yourself to move, each step agonizing. The infected lets out a bone-chilling scream, its footsteps pounding against the asphalt as it charges.

With the last of your strength, you dive into the dumpster, pulling the lid closed just as the infected reaches you. Its snarls and thudding fists against the metal send shivers down your spine. You press your hand against your mouth, stifling your ragged breaths as tears streak down your face.

The banging continues, relentless, until another noise distracts it—a distant scream.

The infected pauses, then lets out a shriek before stumbling off in pursuit of its new prey.

You don't move, your body trembling as you listen to its growls fade into the distance. The metallic tang of blood fills your mouth as you bite down hard, trying to steady your breathing. You're alive, for now, but you don't know for how long.

»»————————-««

Joel cradles Sarah’s limp body in his arms, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Her blood is warm on his hands, seeping into his clothes, but all he can feel is the cold weight of her lifeless body. His world narrows to her face, still and pale, her wide eyes unseeing.

“Come on, baby,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “Please, Sarah. Please don’t do this to me.” His hands shake as he brushes a strand of hair from her face, desperation clawing at his chest. “You’re gonna be okay. You have to be okay.”

Tommy crouches beside him, glancing over his shoulder at the chaos closing in around them. Fires blaze in the distance, screams echoing through the night, and the guttural growls of the infected grow louder. There’s no time—but Tommy doesn’t know how to move Joel.

“Joel,” he says softly, his hand resting on his brother’s shoulder. “We have to go.”

Joel doesn’t look at him. He stares down at Sarah, his face a mask of disbelief and devastation. “She was just a kid,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t…” His words break apart, swallowed by a sob that shakes his entire body.

Tommy glances around again, his grip tightening on his rifle. They’re running out of time. “Joel,” he says more urgently, shaking his brother’s shoulder. “Listen to me. We’ve gotta move. Now.”

Joel finally tears his gaze from Sarah, his face streaked with tears and looks at Tommy. For a moment, he seems lost, his eyes unfocused. Then something shifts. “Where’s Y/N?” he asks, his voice hoarse. “She was with us. Where is she?”

Tommy’s jaw tightens. He doesn’t answer right away, his eyes flicking down to Sarah and back up to Joel. The weight of the question lingers in the air, heavy and suffocating.

“Where is she, Tommy?” Joel’s voice rises, panic threading through his words. He stands, still holding Sarah in his arms as if letting her go will make it real. “Did she make it out? Where the hell is she?”

Tommy hesitates, his expression hard to read. “She’s gone,” he says finally, his voice firm but laced with something unspoken. “She left.”

Joel freezes, the words hitting him like a physical blow. “What are you talking about?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. “She wouldn’t just leave. Not without us.”

“She did,” Tommy says, his tone resolute. “I saw her take off. She probably thought it was safer on her own.” He looks away, scanning the horizon for danger, his face set like stone. “She’s tough, Joel. She’ll survive.”

Joel shakes his head, the anguish in his eyes twisting into something sharper, rawer. “No,” he mutters. “No, she wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t just leave us. She wouldn’t leave me.” His voice cracks on the last word, the betrayal cutting deeper than the chaos around them.

Tommy grabs his arm, pulling him back to reality. “Right now, we gotta focus on staying alive,” he says. “You hear me? We’ll figure the rest out later.”

Joel doesn’t respond. He sets Sarah down gently on the ground, his hands lingering on her face, his throat tight as he forces himself to let her go. He removes his watch—the one you and Sarah had worked so hard to get repaired. Now, it’s shattered, frozen at the exact moment his life changed forever. Gently, he lays it on his daughter’s still form. His movements are mechanical, his mind a storm of disbelief, grief, and the aching question: why would she leave?

Tommy leads the way, his rifle raised, and Joel follows, his steps heavy, his thoughts churning. Anger, confusion, and pain twist together in his chest, but above it all, one thought keeps circling back.

She left us. She left me.

Taglist: @si1versamurai

[millieduboisart]

A little look at my piece for @sing-it-togetherzine! 🌈👀

[marigraphia]

I've had this pose ref saved for a while and the Superman set photos just gave off the same energy 👉🏻👈🏻

The reference is this photo of Katharine Hepburn as Antiope and Colin Keith-Johnston as Theseus in the 1932 play 'The Warrior's Husband' (and I'd love for people to turn into a draw your otp meme pls pls pls this pose is so good)

And also, of course, the Superman (2025) set photos

[azuuuurin]

calling all raincoders, @neondownpourzine drops june 30th!

I'm really happy I was able to participate, and I'm really looking forward to the finished zine! there's tons of great stuff in there, I think you'll like it too <3

in the meantime, here's a preview for my piece! fubuki chibi by @rararazaquato