#TWO NONIES. IN ONE DAY :(

[vcrnons]

hello i went shopping today and these are the pulls of the century, i’m not actually taking questions 🫶

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹。and my body keeps saying (it's yours) | gojo satoru

wc: 1.6k

summary: gojo thinks this is different, new, almost like it’s the first time for everything.

contains: f!reader in mind but no specifics are mentioned, 18+/mature/soft-slight n*ft/w, sex with feelings (it’s really just vanilla tho!), first time!, there’s an awkward bit but that’s intentional!, lots of nervous feelings! but also lots of intimacy!

a/n: for nonie.🫧 who asked about what it would be like for their first time! title is inspired by an emotional oranges song, devotion (which i used as music inspo for the entire fic too + troye sivan, what a heavenly way to die). this is also my first time writing anything close to n*fw so please be kind! idk if i’ll ever write one again; takes place between tell me about love (show me how) and so this is what it means to be in love!

collection masterlist: conversations on love 02. tell me about love (show me how) <- you are here -> +02 (extra). look my way, you're what i crave

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT.

It’s a touch—

—fingertips brushing the edge of his jaw, trailing down his neck, lightly, delicately.

Gojo kisses you beneath the glow of your bathroom lights and he twitches, just a little bit. 

“Sorry,” you stop, attempting to pull away from him immediately. 

His neck is sensitive, always has been since Toji. The mark has faded over the years; what used to be a line running through the shadow of his jawline is now nothing, but you know the feeling lingers, still. You’ve tried to avoid the area as much as you could—while sparring, hugging, kissing; holding him in moments as intimate as this. But sometimes, your fingers slip, and he jolts, so you move away, apologetic—

And he wishes that you didn’t, wishes that he didn’t have to react that way when all he really wants is for you to hold him like this.

He stares at you now, lips puffed and kiss-bitten, and thinks, he shouldn’t even be here—

—at 2:00 a.m., in your apartment, fresh out of a three-day assignment he caught the last train for, just to see you. 

He shouldn’t even be here, bone-tired in a black t-shirt and track pants he couldn’t be bothered with—there just wasn’t enough time to change out of it. 

And he really shouldn't even be here, except, he cut the assignment two days short, rushed through it, restless, eager at the thought of getting back soon. 

All because he missed you. 

Gojo keeps you close, his fingers splayed on the base of your spine, warm and pressing. You can’t read him, his next move, but his eyes hold lightning crackling. He takes your hand and guides it back to where he’s weakest, underneath his jaw, on his neck—healed skin and tissue, his lifeline to you.

“Keep it,” he murmurs, eyes piercing. 

He still twitches when you touch his skin, but it’s always been involuntary. You should know that it could never be because of you, your hands that hold every good thing his heart carries. 

You lean in first, tiptoeing, nudging his nose with yours and your lips hovering. His pulse point rests beneath your fingertips—can you feel how fast it’s beating? Just from having you near him? 

The tips of his hair tickle your forehead and he swallows, throat bobbing. It’s impossible to resist him when he’s this boyish, this charming, so you kiss his lips once, before pulling away, teasing. He bites his lips, red blooming against pink, and you don’t know exactly what you’re anticipating—

But he leans in. 

When you kiss again, the feeling is familiar, a memory of trembling lips and shaky breaths by a bathroom door that isn’t yours. He doesn’t tremble anymore, isn’t as stiff when he has your lips memorized among many other things, but Gojo still flushes the same way your cheeks heat up and your breaths intermingle at the same rate your hearts race.  

You follow where the lights have diffused into your hallway, this dance with him a push-and-pull you’ve done a few times before. He keeps his palm flat on your lower back, pushing you closer, while pulling you towards your bedroom door.  

His hands slide to your waist, dipping you, grip tightening as you bite his lips, tugging. He moans softly, voice low when your hands rake through his hair, the vibrations rippling through your mouth. Your fingers grasp at the short strands of hair at the back of his head, sighing when his lips are released from yours. 

There’s a moment where you catch his eyes, pupils blown a dangerous blue—a sky swallowing you whole before he begins trailing kisses down your neck, nips and licks evidence of just how greedy he is with you. 

A heat builds within you, rooted deep in your belly as you stay pressed against the outline on his crotch. 

It’s hard to imagine a time before all this, how he even struggled to hold your hand when he touches you now like this. 

You stumble over his feet as he backs into your bedroom, steadied only by his hold on you. You chuckle, a small ‘oops’, so sweet, as your collarbone clashes with his teeth. He smiles, lips curled against your skin as he teases, “So clumsy,” 

He’s kissed you this much before, has held you this tight, and touched you much more but this feeling between you now, he can tell—

Tonight is different. 

You lead him this time, to the edge of your bed as you keep him closer, hands all over him. When you lie down, lower lip caught between your teeth, you smile shyly but your eyes burn sinfully, and Gojo wonders if you know that this is what he sees when he’s dreaming. 

He moves closer, your mattress dipping as he hovers above you, arms caging the sides of your face. His head is spinning, eyes zeroing in on the skin exposed by the single button undone on your pajama top. 

When you cup his cheeks, thumb running across his swollen lips—

He thinks he might go crazy. 

You have no idea what you just did. 

He takes a breath before pressing every bit of his longing onto your neck, kissing, sucking, licking, imprinting proof that he was here, with you. It’s red and blotchy, situated right underneath your ear and it’s one too many but still not enough—for him, never enough.

You gasp, tugging at the hem of his shirt, and it’s overwhelming, this feeling. As quickly as it escalated, Gojo freezes, as if you’ve burned him, as if he’s caught up to what could possibly be happening, and it’s—

It’s a lot. 

He pulls away slowly, eyes wide and breath shaky. The air is thick, hot and heavy, and this—where this is going is something he’s never done before, not entirely. 

You sit up, alarmed, hands cradling his face carefully. His eyes are frantic, nervous, blinking at a pace that only makes you worried. 

“We can stop,” you mumble, lowering your hands to take his, gently.

He sees you, hair a mess, marked his, beautiful, and  he just wants to make sure—that you’re okay with this, that you want this, with him. Truly. 

“Do you want to?” he asks, a sky you could fall into, “Honestly.” 

He breathes out, staring. You gulp before shaking your head. “Do you?”  

And he doesn’t have to think much about it, really, because of course, he doesn’t want to stop. 

How could he, when it’s you?

He shakes his head too and you smile.

You squeeze his hand, guiding it to the buttons of your top, “Okay—”

“We’ve never…” he hesitates, trailing off.

It’s weird because it isn’t anything he hasn’t seen before; you’ve both done things at the very least, just never all the way. And now, with the knowledge that that very fact is going to change—it feels different, new, like it’s the first time for everything. 

You nod, stroking his knuckles to reassure him, “You said you’re a fast learner, right?” 

The nervous laugh you give is oddly comforting, and he remembers that first kiss and the single thought that if he doesn’t do this now, how much longer ‘till he does? 

So he takes it—

—unbuttons your top one-by-one, and he’s a bit shaky, hands clammy, but he gets it off eventually. Then goes his shirt, and your shorts, his pants, a struggle to get past his ankles until you’re both bare, cheeks hot while giggling, like first loves—and maybe it is. 

Gojo sees you stripped down, uncovered, wholly you for the first time and thinks he could die. 

It’s vulnerable and strange as he hovers over you this time, skin-to-skin, but you fit together this way, just right. 

You giggle some more, unable to hide your nervousness. It’s a habit you have—laughing in inappropriate situations, but he thinks it’s cute, so he does it right back. 

Your fingers trace his eyebrows, down to his nose and cheeks, then to his lips, still red and bitten, “You’re so pretty, Satoru. Not fair.” 

He blushes, tips of his ears and neck flushing, “‘Course,” he kisses your nose, pulling away to get a good look at you.

“Have to be if I’m with you.” 

It’s cheesy, and you roll your eyes, laughing full-on but he smiles wider and it feels good knowing that he’ll forever get to share this moment with you. 

“I, uh,” he mumbles, trying to find the words, “have to prep.” 

“Oh, yeah, right,” you move, hands reaching for him between you, but he catches your wrist before you touch him, stopping you. 

“Don’t,” he says, firm, face red as he looks straight at you. “I might not…” he doesn’t continue but you know what he means, so you nod, pulling away. 

His hand trails down your body, inching closer to where you need him to be, and it’s sweet you think, because he kisses your lips once before asking, “Can I?” as if he still has to.

You nod, before whispering, “Don’t ask next time.” 

Next time, you said and it rings, echoes in his head as a promise for more—that this is just the beginning. 

So he touches you, in every way he thinks you should be, in every way he knows you want to be. 

There’s a gasp, then a moan as he leaves another mark on your neck, and you’re so close when he stops. 

You whimper, but you know what’s next, and you see it in his eyes as he prepares himself, fingers discarding a square packet, “You’ll let me know?” he whispers, soft, concerned.

You’ll let me know if I hurt you? he means, and his eyes stare into yours, sincere. 

You nod, brushing your lips against his, and when you feel it—it’s unusual, maybe a bit uncomfortable but he’s there kissing it away. 

There’s an adjustment, a few awkward positions until he finds it, then he goes slow, rhythmic. Your sighs grow louder and he groans, withholding, then you say it—

“‘Toru,”

—by his ear, soft and breathy, and he’s gone, stilling and spilling, a part of him forever yours, irrevocably. 

thank you notes: to nonie.🫧 for asking about this in the first place, and to niku (@stellamancer) for emotional support and for reading this first!! + for helping me go over it!! i love u niku 😭

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

Old Money, Bratty Honey

pairing: bodyguard!Wonwoo x heiress!reader x bodyguard!Vernon

genre: smut - minors dni.

warnings: car sex (a limo specifically), public sex (the windows are tinted but still), mean dom!wonwoo, switch!vernon, brat!reader, sir kink, edging, hair pulling, blowjobs, facefucking, degradation, masturbation, voyeurism, cum swallowing, reader is rich and spoiled (yk how the rest goes)

requested by @onlymingyus

word count: 1.7k

summary: being born in money gives you the chance to try pretty much everything in the world - that includes fucking your two hot bodyguards in your dad's limousine.

Author's note: hello <3 this fic was requested by beloved mars - the unesco forum pics did a LOT of damage

tagging: @gyuwoncheol @wonwussy bcs they asked to suffer so here we are

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

“Do you remember your speech?”

“Tch, of course I do.” You roll your eyes. “I wrote it myself, remember?”

“I know you did. Just wanted to check whether your brain cells are still active.” Wonwoo smirks.

“Unlucky for you, they are very much intact and in better shape than yours.” You bite back.

“Is there any time of any day where the two of you don’t argue?” Vernon groans from behind you. “Can we just…enjoy the little time we have left until we arrive at the venue?”

“Mmm, of course we can, Nonie.” You turn your attention to your other bodyguard. “He’s never fun, either way. But you are way more fun, right?” You make yourself comfortable in his lap, your manicured hands smoothing over his chest.

“Anything for you, honey. You know me.” Vernon smirks and leans in the crevice of your neck, lips and tongue gliding over your skin.

Wonwoo sighs in defeat and averts his eyes from the unfolding scene, trying to ignore it. 

If it wasn’t for the hefty salary that gets deposited every month in his bank account, he wouldn’t even be here. He would rather be walking at a dingy bar, rather than have to babysit a rich brat like you. 

And the worst thing of all? You’re smart and hot as fuck - to the point where he wants to stuff your mouth full of his dick and make you cry.

You’re aware of how uptight and cold Wonwoo is towards you and you can’t really blame him for his attitude - being head of security under your dad basically requires that attitude. Which makes messing around with him even more fun for you.

Vernon, on the other hand, is your assigned personal bodyguard and would fold in half for you, if you asked him to. One bat of your eyelashes is enough to make him cave to any request of yours, thus giving you the perfect cover for your night escapades.

But of course, he always gets rewarded for his secrecy and faith to you - in the form of letting him fuck you dumb more than often.

This is one of the occasions where you want to mess around with both of them at the same time.

You throw the fabric of your gown backwards to uncover your legs and give yourself enough space to grind your clothed pussy over Vernon’s slacks. 

“Careful with your gown, honey.” He reminds you.

“It’s just fabric, I could have tens of that.” You grin towards him.

“How rich and bratty, coming from you.” Wonwoo comments with a venomous tone.

“Yeah, that’s because I am rich, bratty, pretty and smart and you want to fuck me so bad.” You reply boldly.

He slides next to Vernon and grips your jaw with his right hand, keeping it steady directly in front of his face.

“You’re right, little bitch. I want to fuck the brat out of you, to the point you’re crying and begging me to stop.” His voice feels deeper and colder than the ocean, his eyes burning holes in your skull through his horn-rimmed glasses.

You almost hate how hot and fuckable Wonwoo looks today - but you’ve always wanted to know what’s hidden under his professional attire.

“I would like to see you try, you fucking nerd. I bet you’re still a virgin-”

He cuts you off by dragging you off Vernon’s lap and pushes you down on your knees, between his thighs.

“Dude, what the hell!” Vernon glares at the older man.

“Shut the fuck up, Vernon. You have gotten plenty of time with her since you got your job. Now sit back and watch.” Wonwoo orders him as he unbuttons his pants and lets his cock spring free.

Your eyes widen at the size and it makes your mouth fill with saliva and your pussy dampens your Victoria’s Secret panties.

“Tell me, Vernon - Does the pretty brat over here like to suck dick?” Wonwoo asks with a dangerous glint in his eyes as he runs his fist over his shaft.

“Y-Yeah, she does.” The younger man stutters.

“Does she swallow?”

“Yes, she does.”

“Yes what, Vernon?”

“Yes s-sir.”

“Hm, at least one of you can behave.” Wonwoo turns his attention to you again.

“Enjoying the power trip, Wonwoo?” You place your hands over his thighs, rubbing them up and down.

“It’s Sir for you, little brat.” He puts his hand behind your neck and brings your face close enough to let his cock slap against your cheek. “Now put your smartass mouth to good use, will you?”

“And what if I don’t want to?” You rile him up even more.

Wonwoo threads his hands in the back of your hair and forcefully slides his cock in your mouth. You gag when the tip hits your throat, but you manage to suppress your reflex with ease.

“Fuck, honey…” Vernon curses under his breath and starts palming himself over his pants.

“No need to be jealous, Vernon - I’m sure you have experienced this already, right?” Wonwoo chuckles as he uses your hair as leverage to fuck your face.

“I could get used to this, Y/N - this cock-stuffed version of yours is quite likable.”

You grunt in response and purposefully drag your teeth over his cock, eliciting a hiss from him. He drags you off his cock and pulls you upwards, forcing your back to arch.

“Do that one more time and your daddy will find out his precious daughter is a fucking slut.” He threatens you.

“You don’t want to do this, Sir.” You slur the title on purpose. “You’ll be at loss in the end, especially after fucking me like you wanted to,” you grip his wrist, “So, I suggest you keep your mouth shut and I’ll let you fuck me stupid. How does that sound?” You grin.

“Little bitch.” Wonwoo scoffs and puts your mouth back on his cock.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look so damn pretty.” Vernon moans on the side, his own pants long unbuttoned, hand stroking his pre-cum coated dick. 

Your eyes flit to the younger man and you send him a wink, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo.

“Eyes on me, brat. And you,” he snaps his head towards Vernon, “You better not fucking cum until I say so.”

“S-Sir, I won’t-”

“Don’t. Fucking. Cum.” He repeats with something akin to a growl.

“Fuck, I won’t!” Vernon whines in defeat, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck, his hand slowing down to keep himself on edge.

You moan around Wonwoo’s cock, nails digging in the fabric of his pants as you hollow your cheeks and do your best to bring him closer to his orgasm.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum- You better swallow every last drop like you do with him, princess.” 

You bat your eyelashes to let him know you’re ready and he presses your head until you’ve taken him till the base. You can feel the saltiness of his cum coursing down your throat. You pin your eyes on Wonwoo and stare at him until you’ve sucked his cock clean, swallowing till the last drop.

He retracts his hand and lets you get off his lap, whispering a few words in your ear, low enough to not be heard by anyone else.

“I don’t mean to interrupt but I really need to fucking cum and I don’t want to bust my nut all over the suit.” Vernon half moans, hand gripping his cock tight.

You move between his legs with a sultry smile and engulf his cock with your mouth. It only takes him a few harsh sucking motions of your lips to make him cum, a string of heavy breaths and moans coming out of his mouth.

You release his shaft with an obscene popping sound, opening your mouth to show him the amount of cum in it. You swallow it in one gulp, licking your lips clean.

“Filthy little slut.” Wonwoo clicks his tongue as he tucks himself back in.

“Couldn’t agree more.” Vernon clears his throat and tidies himself as well.

“That was definitely fun,” you sit back on the leather seats and open your purse to take out a pack of wet wipes and clean your hands. A small hair brush follows right after and you fix your hair, as if they were never touched in the first place.

“How is your makeup still intact?” Vernon asks you with narrowed eyes.

“Ever heard of waterproof makeup?” You side eye him.

“As long as Daddy is paying, everything must be on point for his pretty little heiress.” Wonwoo comments. “We’re here, be ready.”

“No need to remind me of my job, Wonwoo.”

As soon as he opens the door of the limousine to help you out, you’re welcomed with countless flashing cameras and microphones shoved in your way, but Vernon rushes next to your side to keep them at a safe distance. 

You put on your finest smile for the cameras, knowing which way to turn your head so the gossip magazines will have only your best shots. 

The noises of the crowd are drowned out once the three of you enter the venue of the gala and your bodyguards double check that everything is okay and you can proceed.

“How ironic to see the two of you being so professional while you were cumming like highschool boys just a few minutes ago.” You giggle.

“How ironic to see you acting like a proper lady after sucking off your security entourage in your daddy’s limousine like a cheap whore.” Wonwoo smirks and you fight back the urge to hit his head with your purse, as you walk over to the table with your assigned seat.

“You didn’t have to be so sassy about it.” Vernon covers his mouth to hide his grin.

“And you should have been more discreet with your visits in her room.” Wonwoo almost snaps at him with a stern look on his face.

“You’re not actually gonna snitch, are you?” The younger man looks at him partially horrified.

Wonwoo’s lips curl in a dirty smirk and he leans into Vernon’s ear.

“As long as you’re willing to stand guard in front of her door all night long while I’m teaching the little brat some manners, then your dirty secret is safe with me.”

Vernon pokes his cheek with his tongue, wishing he was able to shove his fist in Wonwoo’s face.

“So? Are you willing to do that, Chwe?”

“.....Yes sir.”

“That’s what I thought.”

[pupyuj]

the other nonie request…

now i miss big dick wony too :(

i need to be manhandle by her

remember this monumental day in diveland??? YEAH... WE FORGOT ABOUT THIS TOO QUICKLY, LET'S BRING IT BACK!!

rich bossy wony who likes to toy with you—her witty, annoying roommate who has quite the reputation as jang wonyoung’s personal… COMO SE DICE… pet! 🤭🤭 no literally bcs she could force you to wear a collar with her initials dangling in the middle for a day and you wouldn’t have a choice but to do it bcs she makes up for it with mind-blowing sex anyway 😵‍💫 she’s almost like a sugar mommy?? except that the only things she wants to spoil you with are lingerie and slutty clothes that she wants you to put on solely so she can rip them off of you 😭 and all you need to do to pay all that back is spread your legs and be a good girl for her :33

she does not gaf about you at all unfortunately! the only thing you’re good for in her eyes is sex and you know what, you’re fine with that bcs you also couldn’t care for her grumpy ass even if you tried! and all this animosity leads to a lot of hate sex 😭 like oh you’re not reciprocating her advances bcs you got shit to do?? nuh uh, that’s not allowed! you got home late and thus made wonyoung wait?? unacceptable! she rarely kisses you already and if you mess up it's all bites and stinging words... but you wouldn't say that you didn't like them of course 😋

probably loves it better if you turn out to have long hair bcs wony can just drag you around that away if she can't get you to wear those cute leashes that she spends her hard-earned money on just for you 🫣 nothing satisfies her ears more than hearing you wince or whine in pain whenever she just casually reaches over and pull your hair, sometimes even mockingly commending you for keeping it so healthy just for her 😣 it was definitely one of her main ways of getting her aggression out... other than fucking you senseless of course! she would see you stumbling about in the apartment drunk as hell at two-thirty in the morning and she wouldn't waste any time yelling profanities and degrading things to your face before dragging you to her bedroom by your hair bcs you couldn't keep your wasted ass mouth shut 😣😣

something better than completely tearing your clothes off of you is ruining them.. but still letting you wear them 😝 wonyoung likes the sight of your pretty little cotton candy pink blouse ripped open and missing a few buttons, your tights moderately ruined and your lingerie just barely pulled down to your knees while she has you bent over her bed taking her cock like the obedient living fleshlight that she molded you to be! 🫢 she enjoys it when you scream and moan her name freely in the air, loves it better when you try to move away from her just get some sense of control in the situation but eventually failing and just letting her use you... and sometimes she might even be successful in getting you to work yourself on her cock, sitting back and watching as you thrust yourself backwards into her..

AND THE MANHANDLING SO TRUEEEE wony might not look like it but she's freakishly strong 😭 most of the time when you're fucking, she really just does everything! even when she puts you in a position where you'd be on top, like cowgirl, she'd be holding your hips tightly and controlling your pace,, watching you fall apart above her brings her more pleasure than shooting her load inside your womb sometimes!

literally pretends that you don't exist on campus but as soon as she closes the door of your apartment she sticks to your side the entire day and you would see it as a thing if she wasn't constantly humiliating you in your ear and leaving reckless marks all over your body while making you cum all fucking night! wonyoung doesn't ever want to admit it but she's so fucking obsessed with you in the most disrespectful way possible 🤭

[saythenametotheworld]

Did You Like Her in the Morning? | c.vn (18+)

How do you move on from the man you thought you'd marry? You can't. As you navigate the bittersweet memories of your shared dreams, you are forced to grapple with the harsh reality that Vernon has found someone new.

one | two | three | four | five

Genre: strangers to lovers (to exes), smut Pairing: Chwe Vernon x afab!Reader Warnings: angstyyy, mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+), cheating!!! Notes: 27k words. Part 4 of the Heartbreak Hotel series, but it can be read as a standalone fic. Listening to Did You Like Her in the Morning by NIKI. This was too long and I tried to cut it down but I couldn't leave anything out lol. ENJOY~~ Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.

Playlist: Did You Like Her in the Morning by NIKI, champagne problems by Taylor Swift, Fine by Taeyeon, His Car Isn't Yours by Wendy ,

“What are you making?” you heard Vernon’s familiar voice behind you as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into the warmth of his embrace. He pressed a soft kiss on your cheek, and you leaned back into him.

“Eggs,” you replied, smiling as you rolled the omelet in the pan.

Vernon hummed, nuzzling his nose against your neck, sending a shiver up your spine. “I love eggs.”

“Good,” you chuckled, basking in the gentle intimacy. “Because that's all we have. We need groceries.”

“Then let's go together later,” he murmured, turning you to face him.

You smiled at the sight of your boyfriend, handsome in the morning light filtering through the windows of your shared apartment. There were remnants of sleep in his half-lidded eyes and messy locks of brown hair. His lopsided smile was something you’d grown familiar with but still couldn’t get enough of. He was beautiful in a way that made your chest tighten with love and disbelief.

You lifted the spatula, careful not to graze his neck as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Tiptoeing, you pressed a brief but tender kiss to his lips. “Did you sleep well?”

“The best sleep I’ve had in days,” he murmured, his voice low as he brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His hand lingered on your cheek, thumb tracing the outline of your jaw. “Thanks to you.”

You rolled your eyes, though the warmth in your chest spread. “You’re welcome,” you teased, “but go set the table. Let’s eat breakfast before we leave for work.”

He grinned, but instead of pulling away, he tugged you closer. “Breakfast is good, yes, but…” He paused, one hand traveling down the length of your spine and stopping at your backside. He cupped it with his hand, squeezing ever so gently as he pressed his lips on your ear. “There’s someone else I wanna eat.”

A soft laugh escaped you. “Now, now,” you said calmly, putting your hands on his chest and pushing him back slightly. “Food first.”

You turned back to the stove, turned it off, and put the rolled omelet on a plate. Vernon followed behind you, unable to keep his hands to himself as he tried to touch you everywhere while trailing kisses on your neck and jaw.

“Nonie,” you chided softly, though your body was doing something else entirely—tilting your head to the side so he could nip at your neck with ease. You let out a soft sigh—warmth and goosebumps spreading through you when he sucked on your skin.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, hand cupping your breast as he ravished your neck again.

Then, without warning, the world shifted. The comforting scent of eggs and the morning light faded. Your eyes fluttered open, and instead of Vernon’s embrace, you were met with the cold, dull gray of the ceiling above you. The room was deafeningly quiet save for the faint hum of the air-conditioning cutting through the silence.

You opened your mouth to breathe, eyes darting around the room as you tried to transition out of your dream and back into the dreary reality of your present. The faint ache in your chest grew sharper as you slowly sat up, pressing the heel of your hand to your temple, trying to shake away the dream—no, the memory that you thought would not visit you again until today.

On your nightstand, your alarm clock was glowing, highlighting bright red numbers, 9:30 pm. “Fuck this,” you muttered to yourself, rubbing your hands over your face.

In need of fresh air, you stepped out of your quarters and trekked the quiet hallways of the hotel, heavy thoughts weighing on your chest. Walking without a set direction brought you to the hotel bar, where the low murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses provided a welcome intrusion to your scattered thoughts. Your eyes scanned the room, landing on Seungcheol, nursing a drink alone at the bar.

Sighing, you crossed your arms over your chest, leaning on the entryway as you watched him curiously. This enigmatic stranger came to your hotel seeking services in the form of storytelling. When you think about it, it was a strange request, asking a stranger to share anecdotes of her past relationships and why they failed. But now that you were watching him from this distance, with his eyes locked on his glass seemingly lost in his thoughts, maybe it wasn’t a strange request after all. Maybe, behind the enigma that is Choi Seungcheol, was a lonely man trying to make sense of the things that had caused his own relationship to fail.

“Whatever,” you muttered, walking straight toward him.

He looked up as you approached, surprise and relief washing over his face. “Good evening.”

You nodded, sliding onto the stool beside him. “Mind if I join you?”

“Please do.” He gestured to the bartender for another drink. “Your company is most welcome.”

You took a moment, watching the bartender pour your drink and push it toward you. Then for a second, you stared at it, swirling the contents of your glass. “How do you move on from the person you thought you were gonna spend the rest of your life with?”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “Is this another story? I’m all ears.”

You took a sip of your drink, the spice lining your throat and leaving a bitter aftertaste on your tongue. “Alright then. Tonight, I’ll tell you about Vernon Chwe.”

“The one that got away?” he asked, leaning in with curiosity.

“Something like that,” you replied, your mind drifting back to memories that felt so fresh, that one would think it all happened yesterday.

Blind dating was a game of hit or miss. At least, that’s what you believed. When Mina set you up with her friend’s friend, you’d expected it to be just like any other blind date—awkward, forced, and uncomfortable, not that you’d been in one before. This was your first, and you almost didn’t show up if not for Mina’s insistence that you only need to do it this once then she wouldn’t bother you again if you ended up disliking the whole thing. 

With lowered expectations, you walked into the restaurant, bracing yourself for nothing more than polite small talk between two people who didn’t want to be there. You weren't expecting much—a brief chat, maybe a rushed cup of coffee, and then an awkward goodbye.

The cafe staff pointed you to his table and you approached carefully, studying the back of his head.

“Mr. Vernon Chwe?” you prompted politely, peeking slightly at his face.

He glanced up at you and you were momentarily caught off-guard by the gorgeous pair of light brown eyes. His appearance alone was already surpassing your expectations by miles. 

“Yes, hi!” he greeted, standing up at once and offering his hand for a shake. He said your name and it rolled off his tongue effortlessly, as if he had practiced it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He was well-dressed in a neat white shirt and a light brown button-down, the sleeves rolled just enough to look casual but put together. His hair—neatly styled yet effortlessly tousled—framed his face perfectly. And that face? Sculpted, handsome, with sharp features softened by a warm, welcoming smile.

“The pleasure’s mine,” you replied.

When he moved to pull out your chair, it didn’t feel forced or like he was 'trying too hard.' His gestures were smooth and respectful, like second nature. You blinked, trying to keep your surprise in check as you took the seat he offered.

“Thank you,” you said, setting your purse aside as he sat across from you, his movements just as easy, just as considerate.

“How was the commute? I hope it wasn’t too far for you,” he began, right as the waitress handed you menus.

“Oh, no, not at all,” you said, smiling. “I actually walked here. I live nearby.”

“That’s a relief,” he replied, his tone sincere, as if your comfort genuinely mattered to him. You were struck not only by his appearance but by how well-spoken he was. His voice was steady, polite, and confident without a trace of arrogance.

After you both placed your orders, there was a pause. But it wasn’t the dreaded awkward silence you had imagined. Vernon didn’t rush to fill the space with idle chatter. He simply sat there, watching you with attentive eyes, as though he had all the time in the world. You noticed then how carefully he observed you—his gaze steady but not overbearing, his expression open and genuinely curious.

You nodded, feeling more at ease than you expected. “Yeah, I do. And you’re in… software development, right?”

“That’s right,” he confirmed, leaning back in his chair. “But I promise I won’t bore you with tech talk.”

His playful smile made you laugh softly, and the ease with which the conversation flowed caught you off guard. It was seamless. No awkward pauses, no forced topics. And Vernon wasn’t just polite—he was thoughtful. He asked questions about your life, your interests, your thoughts on books and movies. And he listened, really listened, like every word you said was worth considering. Every now and then, he’d tilt his head slightly, his smile never far from his lips and his attention never wavering.

Time passed quicker than you realized. The conversation was so comfortable, so engaging, that it wasn’t until your phone buzzed that you noticed the hour.

“Oh no,” you murmured, frowning at the time. “I’d love to stay longer, but I have work tomorrow.”

“I understand,” Vernon replied, smiling warmly. “It’s getting late anyway. Shall we head out?”

He offered to walk you home, and you didn’t hesitate to accept. The night was cool, the air crisp as the two of you strolled through the quiet streets. You kept chatting until you reached your apartment complex. You couldn’t help but linger just a little longer under the streetlights, hoping time would stretch on and you could spend more time together.

“I had a really great time tonight,” you admitted, slightly embarrassed by how much you meant it.

“I’m glad,” Vernon replied, turning to face you. His eyes sparkled under the light, and for a second, you forgot where you were. “I’d love to do this again if you’d allow it.”

You paused, not because you were unsure, but because it felt almost too good to be true. You hadn’t expected this. Not from a blind date. And yet, here you were, standing in front of your apartment, feeling something stir in your chest that hadn’t been there at the start of the evening.

“Yeah,” you answered, a genuine smile tugging at your lips. “I’d like that.”

His smile widened, and there it was again—that effortless charm. Everything about him—from the way he carried himself to the way he spoke—felt disarmingly natural. His manners, his attentiveness, his respect for your space, all of it was impeccable. This was a man who knew how to make someone feel seen and heard. It was almost unsettling how easily you connected with him.

Before parting ways, he took a step closer, his hand brushing gently against your arm in the most careful, respectful way. “Goodnight,” he said, his voice low.

“Goodnight, Vernon,” you whispered.

And just like that, Vernon Chwe became someone you couldn’t stop thinking about. The blind date you thought would be awkward and forgettable had turned into the beginning of something promising.

“Tell me everything!” Mina gushed when she Facetimed you the next day. “Don’t skip a detail. What happened?”

“Aren’t you too energetic for a Monday morning?” you teased, patting moisturizer into your skin.

“Paul said Vernon kept talking about you after the date. Does that mean it went well?”

You smiled, remembering last night, and Mina caught on immediately. She clapped her hands. “It did! Oh my God! How was it?”

“It was great,” you replied, trying to sound casual but failing because you couldn’t stop smiling. “Vernon was... really great. He was nice, polite, funny—and he’s handsome too.”

You told her about the date while getting ready for work, and by the end of the call, Mina was patting herself on the back for setting you up. You laughed it off, but inwardly, you were grateful. She had insisted on this blind date, and now, well… things were looking good.

Later, at work, you greeted your coworkers cheerfully before settling in at your desk. It was going to be another mundane day of taking reservations and answering guest queries, but today felt different. The thought of Vernon had put a little extra bounce in your step.

“You look happy,” asked Sally, a coworker and a friend. “Date went well, I take it?”

“It went amazing, Sal. Don’t be surprised when I get a boyfriend in the next few weeks,” you chimed, lifting your shoulders with pride.

Sally sighed, leaning her elbow on the back of your chair. “Guess I’ll be eating my dinners alone from now on.”

“I hope not,” you chuckled. “And let’s not count our chickens before they hatch. We still have a long way to go.”

“You’re the one who’s talking about having a boyfriend!” she chided playfully, nudging your shoulder. As she walked away, the phone rang, so you took it to your ear.

“Diamond Hotel, how may I help you today?” you asked with practiced ease.

“Hi, is this…” The man on the line said your name.

“Yes, this is she. How can I assist you?”

“I’m calling to reserve a table at the Diamond Hotel Restaurant.”

You started typing away, already processing his request. “Can I have your name for the reservation? And when would you like it?”

“It’s uh… Vernon Chwe.”

You paused, fingers hovering over the keys as you wondered if you’d heard him right. “Vernon Chwe?” you repeated, heart racing at just the mention of his name.

“Yes,” he answered, and you could practically hear the smile in his voice. “I’m booking a table for two, but only if my date agrees to dinner on Friday night.”

He has a date? You pondered, a sudden pang of disappointment hitting you. That was quite unexpected. You just went on a date with him last night and you thought it had gone well. Now he has another date?

You chased your thoughts away, maintaining a professional tone when you said, “I’m sure she’d love to if you asked nicely, Mr. Chwe. The hotel restaurant has an impeccable menu.”

“You think so?” Vernon asked, sounding curious.

“Absolutely.”

“What’s your favorite off the menu?”

You hummed thoughtfully, pulling up the list of recommendations on your computer. “There are a few things I can recommend, but I’d suggest you check out the Menu of the Day once you get there.”

“I see, but I need to know your favorite so I can remember to order it for you.”

Ah, now you got it. You smiled, glancing around to see if anyone was listening. “Mr. Chwe, shouldn’t you ask your date first if she’s available Friday night?” 

“Well, are you available Friday night?”

“Maybe,” you chimed.

Came Friday night, you met him outside your workplace, told him you canceled his reservation, and asked him to take you elsewhere. 

“I lied about the hotel menu,” you said as soon as you approached him. “All fancy stuff, nothing that’s actually good. Let’s go somewhere else.”

Vernon laughed at your admission, throwing his head back as he casually offered his arm for you to hold onto. “So? Where should we go then?”

“Actually, I’m not sure,” you replied, sliding your hand around his elbow before you started walking down the sidewalk. “I know a place just around the block. Their fajitas are to die for.”

“Alright, then. Lead the way.”

Without thinking much about it, Friday nights became your thing. Vernon would pick you up after work, his car always parked at the same spot by the entrance, and from there, you’d go from one spot to another, trying different foods and discovering new places together. At first, he insisted on taking you to posh restaurants—decent places with cloth napkins and polished silverware. It was sweet, but you could tell he was trying a bit too hard and you didn’t want him to do that—especially considering the startup company that he had just launched with his friend.

One night, after yet another fancy dinner, you decided it was time for a change. You took him to a small, family-owned burger joint tucked between two larger chain restaurants. It was far from glamorous, but it had character—and, as you both agreed, the best fries in the city.

“See?” you said, grinning triumphantly as you dipped another fry into ketchup. “Hidden gem.”

Vernon chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied expression. “I guess I should’ve let you pick the places from the start.”

“It’s a perk that comes with working in the hospitality industry. You get to know where the best places in the city are,” you replied with mock arrogance, making him laugh again.

You watched him for a bit, taking in his easy demeanor and the slight flush on his cheek caused by laughing. He took some fries, dipped them in the sauce, and ate with gusto.

“I like this better than seared salmon. What do you think?” you asked.

Vernon glanced over, his eyebrow quirking in surprise. He seemed to understand what you were trying to imply. “Are you sure? I thought… well, I wanted to take you somewhere nice.”

“I know, I appreciate it. But I think our time and money would be better spent on food we would genuinely enjoy. Don’t you?”

He laughed, and the sound was easy and light. “I think so too.”

And from that night on, things became better. Your dates grew simpler—more relaxed and spontaneous. You spent Friday nights strolling along city streets, your hands full of fast food bags instead of wine glasses.

The pressure of formality faded, replaced by easy conversation and laughter that came naturally between bites of burgers or slices of pizza. You didn’t feel like you were trying to impress each other anymore. Instead, you were just getting to know each other—two people enjoying each other's company, no pretense, no expectations.

“You have ketchup on your chin,” Vernon pointed out one night, his eyes glinting with amusement as you wiped at your face, missing the spot completely.

“Where?” you asked, wiping again, only to have him shake his head.

“Here,” he said softly, reaching across the table to gently swipe it away with his thumb. The gesture was so natural, so intimate, that it made your heart skip a beat.

“What’s going on? Are we filming a movie or something?” you asked—an obvious attempt to defuse the growing tension between you.

“Yeah, and you’re a bad actress,” he retorted, grinning.

“Do you wanna know why?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow playfully. “It’s because God thought it wouldn’t be fair to other people if He had given me talents in acting and performing. I’d be unstoppable as a celebrity and He knew it. He had to draw the line somehow.”

You had expected him to roll his eyes, but Vernon chuckled heartily, scrunching his nose with what looked like cuteness aggression. “God made you so adorable too.”

You simply shrugged, as if to take the compliment nonchalantly despite the giddiness you were feeling inside. “Born this way. What can I do?”

You used to look forward to Fridays because it marked the start of the weekend when you needed not to go to work. Now, Fridays came with a different kind of anticipation—the kind that came in the size of a Vernon Chwe. Your ‘dates’ weren’t just dates anymore; they were a ritual, a habit, a comfort. 

You got to know each other better this way, sharing dreams and aspirations. You told him how you were on the lookout for an opportunity to write, and he talked about his startup—how it was both exciting and exhausting to build something from the ground up. You listened intently, watching as he animatedly explained the challenges he face.

“I didn’t realize how much work it would be,” he admitted, taking a bite of his burger. “Some days, it feels like I’m making progress, but other days… I don��t know. It’s like I’m just treading water.”

“You’ll get there,” you said, offering him an encouraging smile. “I mean, Mark Zuckerberg’s Facebook didn’t become a billion-dollar enterprise overnight, did it?”

Vernon glanced at you, his expression softening. “Thanks. That is oddly reassuring.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. He hadn’t said it outright, but there was a growing closeness between the two of you—a connection that went beyond the casual dates and easy conversations. It was in the way he looked at you, the way he listened to your every word, and how he valued your words like you were an important person in his life.

Bit by bit, these Friday nights were becoming something deeper. And as you sat there with him, sharing burgers and laughter, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, you’d found something you wanted to hold onto.

The more you got to know Vernon, the easier it became for him to bring you into his world. The first time you really saw him in his element was when he invited you to a tech convention as his plus-one. You hadn’t known what to expect—just a room full of serious people talking about things that flew over your head. Tech enthusiasts passionately discussing the future, engineers excitedly showcasing innovations, and the occasional investor looking polished and reserved—it was a melting pot of people who were said to be at the very core of humanity’s technological advancement.

“Come meet my business partner,” Vernon prompted, pulling your attention from the crowd. 

You followed him to a table where a small group of people stood chatting. Vernon tapped a man on the shoulder, who turned around immediately.

“Vernon! Finally. Where have you been?” the man asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Sorry, man. Traffic was brutal,” Vernon replied. “This is my friend, Boo Seungkwan. We founded the company together.”

Seungkwan gave you a grin, his eyes glinting with humor. “Nice to finally meet you, though I heard nothing about you. He’s been keeping you a secret, something about not jinxing it, whatever that meant.”

You smiled. “That’s fine. I’ve heard plenty about you.”

“Oh, really?” Seungkwan leaned in, lowering his voice playfully. “Did he tell you I’m insufferable and run the place like a dictator?”

You laughed. “No, actually. He said you’re the best at managing the company’s money and keeping things together.”

Vernon shot Seungkwan a look. “See? No badmouthing.”

Seungkwan scoffed, turning back to you. “Give it time. Once you two get close enough, he’ll spill all my secrets,” he ranted jokingly, making you chuckle.

Watching Vernon in this environment where he clearly belonged made you realize how seamlessly he could move between these worlds—his professional world and the easy, laid-back version of himself you’d grown close to. While he was deeply immersed in this world, always kept an eye on you. Even in the middle of a conversation, he’d look over, checking in without saying a word.

As you settled into the flow of the event, Vernon was suddenly called up to the stage to present their latest project. He leaned in before leaving, his voice soft in your ear. “I’ll be back soon. Wish me luck.”

You smiled, giving his arm a squeeze. “Good luck!”

He flashed a quick smile before making his way to the stage. You watched as he stepped up to the podium, transforming from the Vernon you spent casual Friday nights with to the CEO Vernon Chwe—confident, composed, and incredibly eloquent.

“Good evening, everyone,” he began, his voice steady as he launched into his presentation. He spoke with passion, seamlessly balancing technical jargon with approachable explanations and engaging everyone in the room.

He looked different up there. Not in a way that made you feel distant from him, but in a way that made you see him in a new light. He wasn’t just the guy who made you laugh over greasy burgers. Up there, he was someone who commanded respect and attention—a leader, fully in control of his domain. His intelligence shone through in every word, and you couldn’t help but feel proud.

When he clicked through the last slide, the room burst into applause. Vernon gave a modest bow and stepped down from the stage, his eyes scanning the crowd until they found yours. He smiled—this time, not the professional smile he gave to the audience, but one meant just for you.

Seungkwan elbowed you lightly, leaning over to whisper, “He’s impressive, isn’t he?”

You nodded, unable to look away from Vernon as he approached. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Really impressive.”

As he reached you, Vernon sighed in relief. He glanced at Seungkwan and you. “How’d I do?”

“You were amazing,” you said, your voice soft but sincere. “You looked so cool up there.”

“Yeah, so cool. You totally sold it. Investors are gonna—oh! Here comes one now.”  Seungkwan walked up to meet the man approaching your circle.

You both watched him for a bit as he engaged in a serious discussion with the man. Vernon’s touch on your elbow shifted your attention to him.

“I’m hungry. Do you wanna get out of here?” he asked, eyes gleaming with mischief. 

“Don’t you need to talk to these people?”

He shrugged. “Seungkwan will take care of it. He’s better at conversing with these people than I am.”

“You sure he won’t mind?”

“Totally,” he replied, taking your hand in his. “Let’s go.”

Vernon took you to a Mexican restaurant where you stuffed your faces with food and talked about anything and everything. After that, he said he’d show you to their office, and snuck you there in the middle of the night. 

“This feels illegal,” you told him as he led you through the dim hallways.

“Well, technically, it is. Seungkwan is pretty strict about workplace conduct, so no girlfriends in the building, and especially not in the middle of the night like this.”

“I didn’t know I was a girlfriend already,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

Vernon’s eyes widened as he stammered, “No, I don’t mean— I meant girlfriends in general, not just my girlfriend specifically. What I meant was if an employee or someone in the company had a girlfriend—or boyfriend—they’re not allowed to bring them here to, you know, hang out or whatever it is that people in relationships do.”

You smirked, enjoying how flustered he had become. “You know, you were really attractive when you were talking earlier. All eloquent and smart. I didn’t think you could ever stutter like this.”

He gave you a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck. “Is that bad? Did I ruin my ‘cool’ persona?”

“Not at all,” you replied, your voice softening. “Quite the opposite. You’re cute.”

He laughed, though it was soft, nervous even. “Thanks, I guess?”

You stood together in front of the sleek glass doors of their office building, and Vernon swiped his keycard to let you in. The lights inside were dimmed, casting a soft glow over the open-concept workspace. It felt intimate, like you were stepping into a new part of Vernon’s life.

“I swear, this place is usually more lively during the day,” Vernon murmured, his voice low as if he didn’t want to disturb the quiet.

“I can tell,” you replied, eyeing the desks. There weren’t that many of them, just about a handful. The office was just large enough for less than ten employees, and you could tell they were in the earliest days of establishment.

You stopped in front of a glass-walled office room, a small one with a desk at the center and a nameplate with Vernon’s name on it. “Is this the CEO’s office?” you teased, stepping inside and running your fingers along the edge of the desk.

“Something like that,” he replied, leaning against the doorframe, watching you. His eyes were darker now, his posture more relaxed, but there was a certain intensity in the way he looked at you. “This is where Seungkwan bosses me around, and I pretend I know what I’m doing.”

“You seemed pretty convincing earlier during the presentation,” you teased. “All eloquent and smart. I didn’t expect to see you in full business mode.”

He grinned. “You liked that, huh?”

You turned to him, taking a deep breath. “It was impressive, yes,” you began, voice soft. “And I have to admit, I did want to see your office but not in the middle of the night. It feels a like we’re breaking the rules.”

Vernon chuckled, pushing off the doorframe and walking toward you, hands shoved casually into his pockets. “I did say we were breaking a rule,” he said, his tone lighter. “But, for the record, I think Seungkwan would make an exception for you.”

You smirked, holding his gaze. “Would he?”

“I mean, I would,” he said, the words coming out more confident than before. He was close now, standing just a step away. “I’d definitely make an exception for you.”

There it was. The shift. The air around you seemed to hum, like the tension had finally caught up with you both. You could feel it, the way your heart started beating faster, the way Vernon’s eyes flickered between yours and your lips.

“That’s because you want to sweep me off my feet. Seungkwan doesn’t like me like that,” you teased, keeping a lighthearted tone and pressing an index finger on his chest.

He held your hand and kept it there. “Well? Am I good at sweeping you off your feet?”

“Well, you’re…” you paused, keeping your eyes locked with his as the space between you grew smaller and smaller. “...adorable.”

“Adorable, huh?” he murmured, his voice lower now, rougher around the edges. He seemed less concerned with the conversation and more focused on whatever was happening between you.

His hand came up, almost tentative, fingers brushing against the side of your face as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re making it really hard to follow the rules right now,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart raced at the closeness. “Maybe we don’t need to follow them tonight,” you replied, lips quirking into a small, daring smile.

Vernon smiled back. “I’ve never been good at following rules anyway,” he murmured, his thumb lingering just at the side of your face, his touch barely there but enough to send ripples of warmth through you.

You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t need to. Instead, you closed the space between you, rising on your toes just slightly, enough for your lips to meet his in a soft, lingering kiss. It wasn’t rushed or frantic—it was deliberate, the kind of kiss that had been building for weeks. Vernon responded in kind, his hand moving to cup the back of your head as he deepened the kiss. There was something sweet in the way he kissed you, something gentle that made your heart flutter, but there was also an undeniable heat—like he had been waiting for this moment as long as you had.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were a little breathless. “Okay,” you whispered, meeting his gaze with a teasing grin on your lips. “Now I can definitely say you’re adorable and hot.”

He laughed warmly. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Did you sleep with him?” Mina’s voice rang out, loud and direct through your phone. You hurried to cover the screen, as if that could somehow muffle her. 

“No, I didn’t!” you hissed back, your tone sharp enough to scold. “We just talked, and then he took me home. That’s it.”

“Why not?” Mina pressed, not letting it go.

You leaned back in your chair, arms crossing defensively. “I don’t know. He just… stopped halfway. Then he said he’d take me home. I think he wasn’t ready to go there yet, and honestly, I was fine with that. I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

“Girl, even if you had hooked up, there’s no way this would be a one-off. You’re way past that.”

“Right?” you agreed, thinking it over. “I thought so too. But I kinda liked that he didn’t push for more. His actions told me he wants to take things seriously with me, don’t you think?”

“Totally,” Mina said, her voice buzzing with excitement. “Oh my god, I really like this Vernon guy for you.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at her enthusiasm. “I like him too. Thanks for setting us up.”

Mina made a smug sound, clearly pleased with herself. “You’re welcome. Now go make him fall madly in love with you, okay?”

You laughed, but as you ended the call, Mina’s words echoed in your mind. You hadn’t realized it until now, but you were falling for Vernon—slowly, deeply, and in a way that felt entirely different from anyone before him.

And you continued falling for him—with every Friday night spent together, with every late-night conversation when his deep voice lulled you to sleep, and with every weekend spent exploring new places and activities he thoughtfully picked out. Each moment felt more intimate than the last, a slow and steady unraveling of who you were together, effortlessly comfortable yet thrilling in its own way.

You noticed the little things that made him, well, him—his mannerisms, the politeness in his tone even when he was talking casually, his little thoughtful gestures, how he could somehow always remember exactly how you liked your coffee, or how he always made sure you were walking on the safe side of the sidewalk. These were the things that made your heart feel full, as if the entire world narrowed down to just the two of you when you were together.

One weekend, he asked if you wanted to see a movie with him—a break from your usual routine. It was one of those perfect days where everything just seemed to fall into place. The air was cool but not too cold, the traffic lights turned green just as you approached, there was barely a line at the cinema, and you got the best seats in the house. Even your popcorn tasted better than usual.

You watched the movie quietly. Every now and then, you felt Vernon’s eyes flick toward you. Whenever you caught him staring, he’d look away, only to glance back a moment later. He seemed... nervous.

Halfway through an intense scene, where the protagonist was inches away from confronting the villain, Vernon leaned in, gently tugging your elbow. 

“Can I ask you something?” he whispered, his voice barely audible under the suspenseful music. 

You blinked, startled by the interruption. “Now?”

He nodded, his smile almost sheepish. “Yeah, now.” You leaned closer, expecting him to comment on the movie or make a joke but instead, he took a deep breath.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

For a moment, you thought you’d misheard him. In the middle of a suspense movie, with the protagonist literally facing life-or-death stakes, Vernon had just asked you to be his girlfriend. You had to stifle a laugh, quickly covering your mouth to avoid disturbing the other moviegoers.

“Are you serious?” you whispered back, your eyes wide with amusement.

He nodded, his grin growing wider, though his nervousness was still apparent. “I know. I know, the timing’s weird. But I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I just couldn’t wait anymore. I wanted to ask you now. Here. I don’t know why… I just—”

You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he was practically holding his breath, waiting for your answer. The softness of his confession, paired with the ridiculousness of the setting, made your heart swell. It was so him—earnest, sweet, and dorky all at once.

You smiled, warmth flooding through you. “Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend. But you know this is the worst possible time to ask, right?”

Relief washed over his face, and he chuckled softly, clearly flustered. “Yeah, I kind of panicked.”

“If I had known you were gonna do this, I would’ve picked a rom-com,” you teased.

Vernon grinned, his hand slipping into yours. “It would make a funny ‘How Your Mom and I Got Together’ story though, don’t you think?” he whispered back, eyes twinkling with that familiar Vernon charm.

You rolled your eyes playfully, leaning your head on his shoulder. “You’re such a dork,” you whispered, your words filled with affection. And as the suspenseful music swelled around you, you couldn’t help but think that this out-of-place, spontaneous confession was exactly the kind of memory you wanted to hold onto.

And so you’d officially become his girlfriend, and even though nothing really changed in the way he treated you—still sweet, still thoughtful—it felt different in the best way. Everything felt a little lighter, like you were walking on cloud nine.

The next morning, you woke up with an inexplicable giddiness bubbling inside you. Vernon texted you good morning with a picture of his messy bed hair and a caption that read, “Your boyfriend just woke up. Isn’t he handsome?” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling at your phone.

You: the handsomest!

In the days that followed, being in a relationship with Vernon felt like the easiest thing in the world. There was no awkward transition, no need to overthink anything. You just were together now, and it felt natural.

You spent Friday nights hanging out at your place, sometimes ordering takeout and binge-watching your favorite shows. He’d wrap his arm around you, pulling you close as you both debated whether pineapple belonged on pizza—it didn’t, according to him, but you had other opinions. His hand would absentmindedly play with your hair, and you’d find yourself smiling for no reason at all.

You found yourself getting used to all the sweet texts, random kisses on your forehead, and the way he’d always pull you closer when you least expected it. There was a sense of security in being with him, like you didn’t have to worry about anything because Vernon was there—steady and kind.

You knew you’d made the right choice. Vernon wasn’t just sweet or thoughtful—he was the kind of person who would always go the extra mile, who made you feel cared for in the smallest but most meaningful ways. And being with him was fun. There was something light and easy about it, like the two of you were building something beautiful without even realizing it.

And of course, you also found a way to keep things interesting. One weekend, you planned a surprise road trip—“Just pack a bag and drive. Don’t ask questions,” you told him over the phone.

You ended up driving to a cozy cabin by the lake, where you spent the weekend hiking, making s’mores by the fire, and cuddling under thick blankets while watching the stars.

“Thanks, love,” he murmured against your hair. “I needed this.”

You snuggled closer into his warmth, letting him tighten his arms around you. “You’re welcome. You’ve been working nonstop since last week. I figured you should take a break.”

“Seungkwan’s gonna kill me for slacking off.”

You chuckled, tilting your head upwards so you could meet his gaze. “I don’t think he will. He was so happy when I told him I’d take you away for the weekend.”

“He was?”

“Yeah. He was so grateful,” you replied, reverting your gaze back to the starry night sky. “I thought he’d kiss my feet.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Have I been working too much? Didn’t feel like it.”

“People saw it. I saw it,” you said. “I know how important this is for you but you don’t have to push yourself too hard, Vernon. What’s the point of all this if your body gives out?”

“I didn’t realize I was that bad,” Vernon admitted, breaking the silence. “I mean, I knew I was working hard, but I didn’t think it was too much. Truth is, I feel like I should be doing more.”

“You do plenty, Vernon,” you replied softly. “You’re passionate. That’s one of the many things I love about you. But, you know, even superheroes need a break sometimes.”

He smiled, his hand gently tracing patterns on your arm. “You think I’m a superhero, huh?”

“Well, you’re definitely my hero,” you teased, nudging him playfully. 

He chuckled, his chest vibrating under your cheek. “Thank you. I needed this. I needed you. It’s nice to have someone who reminds me to slow down.” His gaze turned serious for a moment. “You have no idea how much I appreciate that.”

His honesty touched you, and you found yourself smiling up at him. “Well, it’s part of the girlfriend duties, I guess.”

Vernon leaned in closer, his forehead gently resting against yours. “You’re doing a really good job.”

You giggled. “I also have to pull you out sometimes because what about me? I need your attention too!” you whined playfully, pouting. “Lots of it.”

“Right now, I’m all yours,” he chimed, nuzzling his nose on your cheek.

The air between you shifted, softening with the closeness. His eyes, normally so full of focus and energy, now held something softer, something deeper. Your breaths mingled, and the world around you seemed to fade into the background.

Your eyes landed on his lips—plump, pink, inviting, upturned in a lazy smile. Your heart fluttered with the thoughts of kissing him swimming in your mind. “You know,” you whispered, “you could thank me properly.”

His lips twitched into a playful smile. “Oh? And how should I do that?”

You bit your lip, the corners of your mouth curving up as you glanced at his lips, then back to his eyes. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Vernon’s smile widened, his hand moving to cup your cheek as he leaned to kiss you again—slowly, deliberately, deliciously. His hand slid down from your cheek to the small of your back, pulling you closer. His touch was tender, yet there was some strength in the way his fingers pressed into you—a subtle intensity that matched the growing heat between you both.

The world around you seemed to blur, the crackling fire and the cool night air fading away as you focused entirely on him—his lips, his warmth, his steady breathing. Your hands found their way to the nape of his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. You could feel the shift in him too—his breaths becoming deeper, his body relaxing into yours while his lips moved with more intent.

When you finally pulled back, your heart was racing, your faces still so close that you could feel his breath fanning your face. His eyes searched yours, asking a question that he didn’t need to say out loud. There was no need for words—everything you both felt was there in the way you kissed and held each other.

Without breaking the gaze, Vernon leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on your neck, then another, his lips grazing your skin with such care that it sent a shiver down your spine. The tension was spurred not just physically but emotionally—a culmination of the trust, the affection, and the love that had been building between you.

“Vernon…” you whispered, moaning as he sucked a bruise on your collarbone. “Vernon, let’s… let’s go back inside.”

Without a word, he rose to his feet, lifting you with ease. You locked eyes only for a second before he leaned in for another kiss that he didn’t break until you were back inside the cabin. It wasn’t long before the two of you were lost in each other’s touch, filling the quiet night with labored breath and whispers of sweet nothings in each other’s ears.

Making love with Vernon for the first time was magical—so much more than you’d imagined. It was beautiful and satisfying. He was attentive to your needs and made sure you were comfortable all throughout. What you weren’t expecting though, was the aftermath. Ever since that night, there had been a small but unmistakable shift in Vernon—he couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself anymore.

He’d sneak up behind you when you were cooking, wrapping his arms around your waist, trailing warm kisses along the curve of your neck, making it impossible to focus on anything else. Sometimes he’d press his crotch on your ass, making himself known. If you were sitting on the couch, reading, or just relaxing, he’d find a way to pull you onto his lap, his hands gently resting on your waist or your thighs. Sometimes, you’d catch him staring at you with that look, like he was waiting for a chance to pounce and devour.

“Vernon,” you’d tease, laughing as you tried to push him away half-heartedly, but his arms would only tighten around you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“What? I can’t help it,” he’d say, his voice low and playful. “You’re too irresistible.”

You couldn’t deny it—you loved how close you’d become, how his affection seemed to overflow in the quiet moments you shared together. And yet, there were times you had to remind him that the world existed beyond the two of you.

Like that one time at the grocery store, when he reached for your hand and tugged you into the nearest aisle, pressing you up against the shelves with a grin.

“Vernon, we’re in public,” you whispered, cheeks flushing as you glanced around to make sure no one was watching.

He just shrugged, his lips brushing against your ear. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to kiss you right now.”

You rolled your eyes, but you let him steal a quick kiss anyway, unable to resist the giddiness that bubbled up inside you every time he acted like this—like he couldn’t get enough of you.

“What happened to you? Since when did you get so….” you’d asked him one time when you had just arrived from work and he was already up on you.

“I got a taste of you. That’s when,” he replied, grinning before he pinned you down the bed.

It was both endearing and exhilarating, this new phase of your relationship, where everything felt so easy, so light. You were falling even deeper for him, caught up in the joy of just being together, in love, and in sync. It felt like you were living in a dream, where Vernon was both your best friend and your lover, and you couldn’t wait to see where this adventure would take you next.

Just like that, a year passed like a beautiful, fast-paced blur—a time spent in moments of laughter, late nights, and whispered intimacies.

Winter came first. You spent cozy evenings at your place, wrapped up in blankets, sipping hot cocoa, and watching snowflakes fall from the sky. One particular night, after a snowball fight outside, you’d collapsed on the couch, laughing and drenched from the snow. Vernon pulled you into his arms, warming you with his body and peppering your face with soft kisses, each one melting away the cold. 

You spent that Christmas with his family, who welcomed you like you were one of their own. The fireplace crackled warmly, the glow of the Christmas tree lights twinkled like stars, and the scent of pine filled the air, wrapping you in a nostalgic embrace. You felt at home in their care, much like how Vernon made you feel safe and cherished every day.

Spring arrived, and with it, new adventures. You both took long walks through blooming gardens and parks, hand-in-hand, admiring the colors and the new life that seemed to pop up everywhere. 

It was also the time when Vernon’s startup had taken off in ways neither of you had anticipated. After months of hard work and sleepless nights, the official launch of their software was met with enthusiastic support from consumers and investors alike. This new milestone in his career meant more late nights at the office, and while you missed him, you celebrated his success as your own, often texting him little reminders of your love during his busy days.

You often attended work galas together where you couldn’t be any prouder seeing him in his element, confidently navigating conversations with clients and investors. Vernon always had a way of making things look effortless. He’d occasionally glance your way, flashing you a soft, knowing smile whenever your eyes met from across the room, making you feel like the most important person there, even among the fancy suits and champagne flutes.

By the time summer rolled around, the two of you were already inseparable. He had earned enough to get himself a bigger apartment, and he’d invited you to live with him. Without a second thought, you accepted, giddy at the prospect of sharing every waking moment together.

On weekends, despite his hectic schedule, Vernon always made time for you. No matter how tired he was, he’d insist on going out for brunch or planning a mini-adventure to clear his head from the work week. It was one of the things you admired about him—his ability to balance ambition and affection, making sure you knew you were never second to his career, even when he was juggling so much.

You went on beach trips a handful of times—your way of making sure he gets his rest. You’d run down the shoreline, laughter echoing as he pretended to chase you, only to sweep you into the waves for a splash-filled embrace. The salty breeze tangled in your hair, the sun warmed your skin, and the sound of his laughter filled the air—it was a slice of pure freedom. You’d spend hours lying on a beach towel together, your head resting on his chest as he traced lazy patterns on your back, feeling completely at peace.

There were times when work stress started to get the better of him, though. He would come home exhausted, bags under his eyes, and you’d find him sitting on the couch, staring into space. During those moments, you’d sit beside him, take his hand, and just let him breathe. He’d always pull you into a hug, sighing in relief, as if just being near you helped ease his mind. 

Autumn came swiftly, marking a year since you’d become official. Your jobs still took up most of your time, but you’d always come home to each other’s embrace. Almost a year to the day since he’d asked you to be his girlfriend, you both went hiking up a nearby mountain, relishing the crisp autumn air and breathtaking view. When you reached the top, Vernon pulled you close, his breath visible in the chilly air. “This past year with you has been the best year of my life.”

He wasn’t usually the sentimental type, but the sincerity in his voice made your heart swell. You kissed him, long and deep, filled with all the love that had grown between you.

Yet, your relationship wasn’t without its trials. You had fights too, arguments that were either petty or intense as you navigated the complexities of a steady relationship. Vernon’s calm and understanding demeanor guided you through the turbulent waters. Each time you emerged stronger, growing as a couple and as individuals.

“I know you’re a grown woman, and I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself, but—” Vernon paused, running his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “You still have to let me know when you’re coming home late and where you’re going so I’d know where to find you if anything bad were to happen.”

You pouted, arms crossed over your chest as you stared at the wall, unable to meet his gaze. He sighed, reaching for your elbow, gently tugging you face-to-face. “I hope you understand what I’m getting at,” he said softly.

“You still love me, right?” you asked, still scowling and still avoiding his gaze.

“Look at me,” he insisted, but you turned your head away. “Love, look at me when you ask me that.”

You finally glanced at him, biting your lower lip as you fidgeted with the sleeves of your T-shirt. Vernon pushed the hair out of your eyes and lifted your chin, his gaze steady. “I love you so much. Nothing’s changed.”

As the year drew to a close, you reflected on how much had changed since that first movie night. You had built a life together, rich with love, laughter, and countless small moments that brought you closer..

As snow began to fall once again, marking the beginning of another winter, you found yourself daydreaming about what the next year would hold for the two of you. Whatever came next, you knew one thing for sure—you were in this together, and that was all that mattered.

You stepped out of the closet, dressed neatly in your work uniform—a beige top with a matching beige pencil skirt. Vernon was sitting on the edge of the bed, phone in his ear as he talked to who you assumed was Seungkwan.

“Okay, got it,” he said, smiling upon seeing you. “Yeah, I’ll be there before 10. See you.”

“Is that your work wife?” you asked after he hung up, tying your scarf around your neck as you walked toward your boyfriend.

“Stop calling him that,” Vernon chuckled, his laughter warm and inviting as he welcomed you into his arms when you moved to sit on his lap. “He hates it.”

You grinned, tilting your head to the side as he pressed a soft kiss on your cheek. “Well, he is your work wife. Wait—no. I think ‘Work Mom’ would be better. He’s like a mom, very strict and always nagging.”

“Why don’t you two like each other?” he asked, fiddling with the scarf around your neck, tugging at it playfully until it came undone.

“Ex-wives and new wives don’t always get along, love. Everyone knows that,” you quipped, leaning back to meet his gaze.

Vernon hummed thoughtfully, his eyes glimmering with fondness as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “We gotta fix that. Can’t have my wives fighting all the time or else I’d crumble to the ground. You guys are the reason I’m still standing, did you forget?” His kisses trailed up your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

You giggled as his nose tickled your ear. “Yeah, no. Seungkwan and I are close. We just fight for fun. I thought you knew that?”

He took a long sniff of your skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he moaned quietly, clearly enjoying your scent. His hand began to unbutton your blouse, but you playfully pushed him back. “What?” he asked, his gaze dreamy and half-lidded.

You huffed. “You’re insatiable,” you grumbled, shifting your positions and pinning him down on the bed.

Vernon was caught off-guard but only for a second. He relaxed on the bed, placing his hands under his head as he watched you straddle him with amusement in his eyes. “You look amazing up there.”

“Really? Well, you look like you’re running late. Get up,” you demanded, standing up abruptly and striding over to the full-length mirror to fix your scarf, a playful smile lingering on your lips as you caught your reflection.

Vernon followed you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. The warmth of his body against yours was comforting. “Ten minutes?”

“No,” you replied without missing a beat, your smile widening at his hopeful tone.

“Seven?” he pressed on, his voice teasing. “Okay. Five. How about five?”

“No. You’re supposed to be at work by 10 am,” you chided, packing your stuff into your bag. “And I’m supposed to be in mine in thirty minutes.”

“Alright, fine,” he conceded, pouting playfully, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his exaggerated disappointment. You helped him put on his coat, patting it down and taking a moment to marvel at his sharp appearance. The way he looked in that coat made your heart flutter. “Do I look handsome?”

You giggled, tiptoeing to plant a quick kiss on his lips, savoring the warmth of his smile. “Very. Come on, let’s go.”

At work, the familiar hum of chatter and the soothing ambiance of the hotel welcomed you. Today was the day of the promotion announcements, and despite the anxious knots in your stomach, there was a flicker of hope within you. As you settled into your cubicle, you exchanged a smile with Sally, both of you sharing that unspoken excitement. You spent a few minutes organizing your workspace, distracting yourself from the jitters.

Finally, the manager gathered everyone in the conference room. Your heart raced, your mind wandering to what it would feel like to hear your name called. A promotion would mean more than just a new title; it would feel like a validation of your hard work, a step forward toward something more fulfilling.

“And finally,” the manager said, his voice pulling you back to the moment, “Sally, our newest concierge who will be gracing the front desk from now on.”

A round of applause erupted, but the sound felt muted, and distant. You clapped along, though your hands felt heavier with each passing second. Sally beamed, and while you were happy for her, a weight settled in your chest. You had worked just as hard and poured just as much energy into the job. Yet here you were, still in the same place, while Sally was moving forward.

As the applause died down and the meeting wrapped up, you returned to your desk, your steps slower than before. You felt pride for Sally but you were also frustrated about the recognition you thought you’d receive. You reminded yourself that promotions sometimes came down to factors beyond performance, like qualifications—Sally had a degree in Hospitality, while you didn’t. Undeniably, you were good at your job, but you didn’t have the same training as Sally and the others.

You sat down, staring blankly at your computer screen. You didn’t dream of managing reservations every day. Back in college, you’d chosen Communications because you had dreams of becoming a journalist, of writing stories that mattered. The hotel reservation desk wasn’t where you thought you’d be.

The phone on your desk rang, jarring you from your thoughts. You took a deep breath, forcing a smile as you picked up. “Diamond Hotel! How may I assist you today?”

You couldn’t deny how much you enjoyed the stability of your day-to-day life—especially with Vernon by your side. The two of you were happy, navigating life together, cheering each other on in your respective paths. Vernon, with his drive and passion for his startup, was thriving. And you, well… you liked being part of his success story, the one who was there to help him unwind, to be the arm candy beside him at work events.

But the more you thought about it, the more you realized—his success wasn’t enough to fill the gaps in your own. Vernon was doing what he loved, chasing his dreams, and growing in ways that inspired you. Meanwhile, you were stuck in a job that felt safe but unfulfilling, and every day, it became harder to ignore that nagging feeling in your chest—the one whispering that you were meant for more.

You glanced over at Sally, who was now chatting excitedly with your manager. Her promotion felt like a reminder of what you were missing. And while you weren’t resentful, the ache of unmet potential gnawed at you. It wasn’t jealousy—it was the realization that somewhere along the line, you’d stopped pursuing what truly mattered to you.

“Are you ready?” Vernon asked, walking into the bedroom to find you putting on a thick jacket over your dress.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you smiled, accepting his hand and letting him guide you out of the apartment.

It was the weekend and you were set to meet your family for dinner. The evening air outside was cold, with a chill creeping in as winter began to settle into the city. You walked hand-in-hand with Vernon, the streetlights casting a soft glow over the two of you as you headed toward his car. His thumb gently brushed over your knuckles, and you couldn’t help but smile at the small, affectionate gesture.

The drive to your parent’s place was quiet, filled with the comfortable silence that came after years of being together. This was Vernon’s first time meeting your parents in person, and although you knew they’d love him, you were still nervous thinking about how the night would unfold. Vernon must’ve sensed your unease because he reached for your hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

“You okay?” he asked, eyes searching yours with gentle concern.

“Yeah,” you nodded, giving him a small smile. Only then did you notice the slight but unmistakable furrow in his brows. Paired with his clenched jaw, you could tell he was nervous. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just a little nervous.”

“Aw. Don’t worry. They’re gonna love you,” you chimed, kissing his knuckles. “Just like I do.”

He laughed softly, your confidence easing some of his tension. “That’s the plan,” he replied, eyes still fixed on the road ahead.

You had told your parents all about Vernon—how caring he was, how ambitious yet down-to-earth, and how he always knew how to make you feel at home. But seeing him interact with them, watching their first impressions form, felt like a major milestone in your relationship.

When you arrived, the familiar sight of your childhood home came into view, the porch light already on and your family’s laughter spilling out from the windows. Vernon parked the car and turned to you with a grin. “Ready?”

“Ready,” you smiled, letting him intertwine your fingers.

As soon as you rang the doorbell, the door flew open and your mother welcomed you with a warm embrace. “There’s my beautiful girl!”

“Hi, mom!” you greeted, hugging her back. Behind her, your father was standing with a smile. “Dad!” you exclaimed, moving to hug him next while your mom greeted Vernon.

“You must be Vernon,” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you,” he replied rubbing your mother’s back when she pulled him into a hug.

Your father regarded Vernon, greeting him with a manly pat on the back and a handshake. Letting them get to know each other, your mother guided you into the house, whispering in your ear, “He looks so much better in person.”

“Right? I told you he does,” you replied and you both giggled all the way to the dining hall.

Dinner was a lively affair, filled with stories, laughter, and, as expected, the occasional nudge about your future plans with Vernon. But you took it all in stride, enjoying the simple pleasure of being surrounded by family. Vernon, as promised, managed to deflect most of the pointed questions with his charm, turning the conversation back to lighter topics whenever things got too personal.

“How come you waited this long to bring him home?” your mom questioned, and you could only smile sheepishly.

“Oh, I know,” your father joined in, sniggering. “She wasn’t expecting him to last this long.”

“Dad,” you chided softly, shaking your head. “That’s not true.”

He turned to Vernon. “It is. She was trying to see if you can handle her and won’t run away at the first chance.”

“Well, sir, your daughter’s not going anywhere because I’m not letting her go,” Vernon boasted.

Vernon’s confident remark earned a few chuckles around the table, and even your dad smiled, seemingly impressed by his boldness. But soon, the conversation drifted toward Vernon’s work, a natural topic considering your parents’ curiosity about the man you’d brought home.

“So, Vernon,” your dad began, taking a sip of his drink. “I heard you’re running your own company. How’s that going?”

“It’s been great so far, sir. A lot of hard work, but we’re starting to see some real growth. I’ve got a solid team behind me, and we’ve been lucky to land a few big clients this year,” Vernon explained humbly, though you could hear the pride in his voice. It made you smile, knowing how hard he’d worked to get to this point.

“That’s fantastic,” your mom chimed in, her eyes gleaming with admiration. “Running your own business at such a young age—that’s no small feat.”

“Yeah, he’s been doing great,” you added, glancing at Vernon with pride. “He’s always working late nights, but I keep trying to remind him to take breaks.”

Your dad grunted in approval, nodding as he cut into his steak. “That’s the kind of dedication that pays off. Not a lot of young people can say they’re doing something they’re truly passionate about.”

And then, without missing a beat, he continued, “At least one of you is doing something they actually like.”

You froze, your smile faltering slightly as the comment landed a little too close to home. Your mother shot your dad a sharp look, her eyebrows raised in disapproval.

“Honey,” she scolded, her voice tinged with warning. “That was a bit uncalled for.”

Your dad blinked, genuinely clueless, his expression one of mild confusion. “What? I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said then a glint of recognition flashed in his eyes when he saw your face. “I just meant... you know... Vernon’s following his passion, that’s all.”

You forced a laugh, though it came out more strained than you intended. “It’s fine, Mom,” you said quickly, hoping to brush past the comment. But deep down, his words had struck a chord. You kept your emotions at bay, not wanting to spoil the night. 

Vernon must’ve sensed something because his hand slipped under the table to give yours a comforting squeeze. You squeezed back, grateful for his silent support, even though you didn’t meet his eyes. You didn’t want him to see the flicker of doubt creeping in.

The conversation shifted again, your mom steering it back to safer topics—family trips, funny memories, anything that didn’t revolve around work. But even as laughter filled the room once more, the words lingered in your mind like a quiet echo, reminding you of the dreams you’d put on hold.

Another year passed, filled with love, laughter, and the small routines that had become the foundation of your relationship with Vernon. You marveled at how easy it was to slip into life with him—lazy Sunday mornings spent in bed, quiet dinners after long workdays, and spontaneous weekend getaways that kept the spark alive. He was always there, steady and present, his love for you unwavering.

But as Vernon’s star continued to rise, something inside you began to shift. You watched him become more confident, more assured in his path, while you remained exactly where you had started: sitting in your cubicle, answering phone calls, and managing hotel reservations.

You were proud of him, of course. His dedication and hard work were paying off, and you loved seeing him thrive in an industry he was passionate about. But every time you heard about his achievements, a small part of you felt left behind. While he soared, you stayed grounded, rooted in a job that had long since lost its appeal.

You told yourself that it didn’t matter, that you were happy supporting Vernon and building a life together. But as the months went by, the excitement you once felt about your own future dimmed. Conversations at dinner turned into Vernon sharing news of his latest deals or the new office space his company had acquired, while you had little to contribute beyond the mundane details of your day. He never made you feel small—quite the opposite, actually. He always asked how your day went, listened intently, and reassured you that your time would come. But his words didn’t reach the parts of you that had begun to wonder if it ever would.

You started to notice things about yourself that you hadn’t before. The way your excitement for work had faded, the way your once confident posture slumped slightly as you sat at your desk. You’d catch glimpses of yourself in the mirror at the end of the day, your work uniform feeling more like a costume than a true reflection of who you were or who you wanted to be. It wasn’t jealousy—Vernon’s success was well-deserved. It was more a growing uncertainty about your own place in the world, a feeling that maybe you weren’t doing enough, weren’t being enough.

The nights when Vernon stayed late at the office became more frequent, and while you told yourself you understood, it left more time for your thoughts to spiral. You’d curl up on the couch, watching TV alone, wondering when you had started feeling so distant from the person you used to be. The person who had dreams of her own, who had once imagined writing stories that people would read, maybe even resonate with.

And though Vernon never missed an opportunity to remind you how much he loved you, you couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of inadequacy. Like somehow, you were falling short of the life you were supposed to be living—that somehow, you weren’t good enough for Vernon anymore.

But you pushed those thoughts away, burying them under your love for Vernon and the belief that as long as you had each other, it would all work out. Still, the doubt lingered as the year came and went.

“Good morning, love,” Vernon whispered in your ear, the soft press of his lips against your temple stirring you from sleep. You blinked your eyes open, greeted by the sight of his tender gaze and his charming smile. “Happy anniversary.”

You smiled back, leaning into his embrace, soaking in the warmth he effortlessly offered. Vernon wrapped his arms around you tighter, placing a kiss on your forehead. You looked up at him, noticing how at ease he seemed, his head propped on one hand while his fingers lazily played with the ends of your hair.

“Happy anniversary,” you murmured softly as you cupped his cheek. He leaned down to kiss you, his lips lingering on yours.

It didn’t take long for the soft kiss to deepen, sending a surge of warmth through your body and a wave of emotions in your heart. Vernon’s hand moved from hair to you arms, featherlight as he traced the path slowly, deliberately, like he was memorizing the feeling of you.

Your hand slipped into his hair, tugging softly, pulling him closer as if you weren’t already skin to skin. When his hand reached your ass, he gave a good squeeze that set off goosebumps all over your body. He then pulled away for a second, eyes searching yours as if asking a silent question, one that you’d already answered the moment you returned his kiss.

Your kisses grew deeper, breaths becoming shorter, bodies pressing closer. You could feel the heat of his skin beneath your palms and the steady beating of his heart. There was no rush, you both took your sweet time, agreeing on an unspoken understanding that you had all the time in the world.

He kissed your neck when you threw your head back, and you let him trail his lips down to your collarbone while his hand tugged the straps of your nightgown down. Soon, you were naked under him and you watched his eyes widen slightly at the sight of your breasts, smiling as you reached for his neck and pulled him down. Vernon let you guide his mouth to one of your nipples, and the moan that escaped your lips was ecstatic once his teeth grazed the sensitive bud.

He worked his way around your body, squeezing, pinching, sucking—all that while you held on to him, bucking your hips forward to feel any friction in your aching sex. Vernon slotted his knee between your legs and you humped on it desperately.

Your patience was running thin while Vernon was hyper-fixating on your supple skin, kissing and nipping and leaving bruises at his wake. You reached for the waistband of his sweatpants, pushing your hand inside and grabbing his manhood. Vernon jerked back slightly, but you didn’t let go. You thumbed the head of his dick, spreading the precum in a circling motion.

“Nonie, I want this,” you whispered, deliberately using the nickname that never failed to get you anything you wanted from him.

He pulled back for a moment, eyes dark with desire but softened by his affection for you. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, a playful smirk playing on his lips. “Are you sure?” His voice was low, the question barely a whisper.

“Are you kidding me right now?” you retorted, rolling your eyes but you were grinning from ear to ear.

“Just say it,” he sang, kissing the tip of your nose.

“Yes. I’m very sure,” you replied, voice laced with mock-sarcasm, but that was enough for Vernon.

He kept his eyes on yours, not breaking eye contact as he cupped your pussy and pressed on it. Your breath hitched, making him smile before slipping his hand into your underwear. For a moment, he played with the slick that had gathered there, spreading it and using it to lubricate his fingers as he rubbed your clit.

Your fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt, a desperate attempt to hold onto something solid as your body began to sink into his touch. The delight was short-lived because Vernon’s hand suddenly left your pussy. In swift motions, Vernon sat up and stripped himself out of his clothes before positioning himself between your legs.

The next few minutes was a blur of lewd moans blending with the sounds of sucking and licking as Vernon ravaged your sex with his mouth.  He went on and on, relentless even as your voice became hoarse and small tears trickled on the side of your face. And then with a strong grip at his hair, you focused on the pleasurable motions of his tongue and fingers, letting it drive you to the edge before a wave of orgasm crashed through you.

Your grip at his hair loosened, and your legs fell limp as you stared at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the high that took over you just now. Vernon appeared, hovering over you with an air of pride about him. You smiled a grateful smile, showing him how satisfied you were.

But then the sudden feeling of your cunt being filled to the bottom made you gasp, mouth gaping open as your back arched in response. Vernon lowered himself to kiss your cheek, cupping your face gently as he shushed you.

“You asked for it, remember?” he said softly, but the mischief in his voice was unmistakable.

In your titillating daze, Vernon moved and found his pace with practiced ease. Every nerve in your body seemed to come alive, making you lose your mind as every thrust gave you a taste of heaven on Earth. 

The room was filled the sounds of your whimpers, his guttural groans, and flesh slamming against flesh. The world outside the bed blurred into irrelevance. Every touch felt amplified—each caress, each whispered breath pulled you deeper into one another. Your fingers tightened around his shoulders, your body responding instinctively to the rising intensity.

“Nonie,” you called in a hushed, breathless gasp as his touch sent waves of sensation rippling through you. Your mind was a haze, lost somewhere between desire and release.

The pressure was building inside you, slow at first, then surging all at once. The world seemed to still for a second—then everything came crashing down as another orgasm came washing over you in waves, leaving you breathless and spent.

He followed you soon after, your bodies perfectly in sync, his soft groan was the only sound between you as he rammed into you relentlessly. One final thrust had him stuttering curses, then he stilled for a good minute before falling in your chest, face buried in your neck.

For a long while, neither of you moved, your bodies still locked together, the aftershocks of your release pulsing through you. Slowly, your breathing returned to normal, the frantic energy replaced by an overwhelming sense of warmth and closeness

Vernon lifted his head to look at you. “I love you,” he uttered before kissing your lips.

The kiss was sweet, comforting even, but as he pulled away, a thought flickered through your mind—how perfect everything must look on the outside. Here you were, in the arms of a man who adored you, who made you feel cherished. And yet, beneath that perfect image, your heart was aching with uncertainty and self-doubt.

For a moment, you wondered if Vernon could see it—the quiet battle you fought within yourself, the creeping fear that you weren’t enough. But his eyes remained soft, full of love, oblivious to the storm forming under your calm exterior.

You gave him a small smile, pushing those thoughts aside again, and whispered, “I love you.” As long as you could hold onto that love, maybe everything else would eventually fall into place.

“I think self-doubt is the worst but most effective way to self-destruct,” you said, staring at the contents of your glass. The bottle next to it was half-empty, a quiet testament to how long you’d been sitting there.

“You know, when your own insecurities start eating away at you, and you just… let them? It gnaws at you until there’s nothing left. And when that happens, you don’t even realize—you become the monster, and you start eating away at everyone around you,” you continued, the words settling heavily in your chest.

You glanced at Seungcheol, and though he stared off into space, you could tell he was listening intently.

“People might say I should’ve communicated with Vernon—told him what was bothering me, how I was feeling, but…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “Pride is a god-awful thing too. It wouldn’t let me show my perfect boyfriend that I was flawed.”

Seungcheol took a sip from his glass, his silence offering a kind of understanding that didn’t need words. You sighed, running your fingers through your hair, feeling lighter but also somehow more burdened by the memories you had unearthed.

“Funny thing is, on the surface, everything seemed perfect,” you said, half-laughing. “We went to galas, work events, dinners. From the outside, we were that couple—successful, in love.”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, his expression inviting you to continue.

You exhaled slowly, the memory of one particular evening surfacing. “There was this gala we attended. I wore this gorgeous maroon dress, and Vernon… well, he looked like he belonged there—he was in his element. The room practically revolved around him.”

Your mind drifted back to that night. The flash of lights, the clink of champagne glasses, and the elegant murmur of conversation all seemed so distant now.

You were standing by the champagne table, watching Vernon talk to a couple of people animatedly. You quietly sipped your drink, letting your thoughts spiral into another wave of self-doubt and feeling of inadequacy.

“It pains me to admit this, but you look ravishing tonight,” Seungkwan prompted, appearing beside you with a deadpan expression.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully. “You don’t look so bad yourself. Is that Prada?” You fake exclaimed, eyeing his suit.

Seungkwan smirked, looking away and brushing his nose smugly as he puffed his chest. “This old thing? Stop. It’s nothing.”

You chuckled and let Seungkwan ruffle his feathers for a bit. Then he looked at you, really look at you. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course. Why’d you ask?” you questioned and it came out a little defensive.

“Maybe it’s just me, but your energy seemed off lately.”

Nervousness crept to your chest. “Off how? What do you mean?”

“I have no idea, but I can feel it. I have a good sense when it comes to these things.”

You couldn’t help feeling warm. Despite your cat and dog dynamics, you always knew Seungkwan cared about you. “I’m fine, Boo. It’s probably just the evening. I’m kinda tired.”

“If you’re tired, you should stop drinking,” Seungkwan said, taking the glass from your hand and setting it down. “Should I tell Vernon you’re ready to leave?”

“Thanks, but I’m fine. I’m not in a rush. Go have fun.”

“Okay,” he nodded as he started walking away. “No more champagne for you, alright?”

You sighed and waved your hand at him dismissively. At that moment, you spotted Vernon approaching you with a lady.

“Love, come meet Ms. Jean. She’s an editor for S Magazine,” Vernon introduced with a warm smile, gently placing his hand on your back. You turned to meet the woman standing beside him—a poised figure in a sleek black dress, her short bob neatly framing her face. She extended her hand toward you with a professional smile.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” she said, her voice smooth but authoritative.

You shook her hand, trying to steady your nerves. “Nice to meet you too.”

“Vernon’s been telling me a lot about you,” Ms. Jean continued, her eyes sharp but not unkind. “He mentioned you studied Communications. Have you always worked in hospitality?”

There it was. The subtle jab you always dreaded, though you knew she hadn’t meant it that way. You smiled, your response ready. “Yes, I work in hospitality right now, but I’m on the lookout for writing opportunities.”

Her eyebrows arched with mild interest. “Really? What kind of writing?”

You felt your heart race slightly, unsure if this was your moment to impress or if you were just another face in the crowd for her. “Mostly feature articles and creative pieces. I used to write short stories and some features for our school paper back in college.”

Ms. Jean nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip from her champagne flute. “Interesting. S Magazine has been expanding its lifestyle section recently. We’ve been looking for fresh voices, especially those with a knack for storytelling.”

Your breath hitched at the mention. The opportunity sounded almost surreal, but you tried not to get ahead of yourself. “That sounds incredible. I’d love to know more about what kind of pieces you’re looking for.”

She smiled, her expression professional yet a little distant, as though gauging your sincerity. “We’re always on the lookout for writers who can capture personal experiences in a way that resonates with a wide audience—something authentic yet relatable.”

Your mind buzzed with ideas, but doubt crept in alongside the excitement. Could you really fit the mold? Did you still have what it took?

“Tell you what,” Ms. Jean said, pulling out her card from a sleek case. “Send me a few samples of your writing. Let’s see where that takes us.”

Vernon looked at you proudly, beaming as if he could already see your success unfolding. You smiled back, though a small part of you wondered if you were ready for this—if you could really stand alongside people like Ms. Jean, in a career you once dreamed of but left behind.

“Thank you, Ms. Jean. I’ll definitely send some over,” you promised, carefully tucking the card into your purse.

The conversation shifted back to lighter topics, but your mind was elsewhere. As Vernon continued to chat away, you found yourself thinking of the stories you’d abandoned, the dreams you’d once nurtured. Maybe this was the sign you had been waiting for?

But even as that hope flickered, so did the insecurity, whispering in your ear: What if you’re not good enough for it?

“Shall we?” Vernon prompted, making you glance at him. The people he was talking to had left and you didn’t even notice.

“What?”

“Shall we go now? It’s getting  a little boring in here.”

You smiled, tilting your head to the side at the familiar scene before you. “Are you using me as an excuse to escape again?”

“No, not this time,” he grinned, taking your hand and then kissing your knuckles. “There’s something I wanna show you.”

You laughed softly as Vernon led you out of the gala, his hand firmly gripping yours. The cool night air greeted you, and you welcomed the fresh breeze on your skin, letting it sweep away some of the tension that had settled inside you. 

“Where are we going?” you asked, curiosity rising as you walked down the quiet street.

He flashed you a mischievous smile, the kind that always made your heart flutter. “You’ll see.”

You two walked for a few blocks, hand in hand, until you reached a small, familiar place. Your steps faltered as the brightly lit sign of the small Mexican restaurant came into view—the same one from your very first Friday night date. A wave of nostalgia hit you.

“Vernon…” you started, your voice trailing off as you turned to him. He gave you a knowing look.

“I figured it’d be nice to take you back here,” he said, opening the door and gesturing for you to step inside.

The restaurant was cozy, just as it had been two years ago. The dim lighting, the quiet atmosphere, and the scent of fresh tortillas brought back memories of that night—the excitement of getting to know him, the lighthearted conversation, and the comfort you felt by his side. You smiled at the memory, but it was tinged with an unexpected heaviness now.

You were the only ones there and Vernon led you to a corner table, the same one you’d sat at on that date. It felt surreal, like you were being transported back in time. After placing your orders, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Remember that night? You canceled the hotel restaurant and brought me here,” Vernon said with a chuckle, his eyes softening as he gazed at you. “I was a little nervous back then. I wanted to impress you so bad.”

“You didn’t have to try too hard,” you smiled, your heart warming at the memory. “You already won me over the moment I first saw those eyes.”

He laughed, and for a moment, the tension in your chest eased. But as the conversation went on, you noticed that Vernon seemed different tonight—his eyes held a deeper intensity, like he had something more on his mind.

After finishing the meal, Vernon took a deep breath, his hand gently squeezing yours. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to say for a while,” he began, his eyes locking with yours in a way that made your heart skip.

You blinked, your heart suddenly pounding, unsure of what was coming. Before you could fully grasp the moment, Vernon stood up and moved to your side, dropping down on one knee.

Your hand flew over your mouth, gasping softly as the world around you came to a halt.

“From the moment we met, I knew you were gonna be very special to me,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “You’ve been my best friend, my biggest supporter, and the love of my life. I can’t imagine a future without you, and I don’t want to. So…”

With a swift motion, he pulled out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a delicate ring that shimmered in the warm light. “Will you marry me?”

The restaurant faded into the background. All you could hear was the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. Your mind raced as his words sank in. Marriage. The thought had crossed your mind before, but not like this—not now. Not when you were in the midst of so much uncertainty about your own life, your own future. You felt your chest tighten as doubt crept in, louder than ever.

Vernon was everything you could have ever wanted, but the timing felt wrong. Then again, he had never been good with timing.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love him—you did, with every fiber of your being—but your heart was torn. Your career felt stagnant, your sense of self was wavering, and suddenly, the idea of committing to something as important as marriage felt overwhelming.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, seeing the love and hope in his gaze. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to speak past the lump in your throat. “Vernon…” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I love you, but I… I can’t. Not right now.”

His face faltered, the flicker of hurt evident in his eyes. He quickly stood, pulling you into his arms as tears slipped down your cheeks. You buried your face in his chest, your sobs muffled against the fabric of his suit.

“I’m not ready,” you choked out, your voice barely audible between sobs. “I want to marry you, I do… but I’m not in a place where I can think about that yet. There’s so much going on in my head and I don’t want to bring that into our marriage.”

Vernon’s arms tightened around you, his hand softly stroking your back. His voice was gentle as he whispered, “It’s okay. It’s alright, love.” But the heavy sigh he let out betrayed his disappointment, a subtle reminder of how much he had hoped for a different answer.

You pulled away slightly, your tear-streaked face tilted up to him. “I love you. I swear, I love you so much. I just… I need more time,” you pleaded, your heart aching at the sight of his eyes dimming with understanding.

“I know,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I understand. We’ll figure it out together.”

And yet, in the stillness that followed, your rejection lingered between you like a buzz in your ears—one that neither of you could fully shake.

You gulped down your drink, tilting your head back to finish every drop. As you reached for the bottle, Seungcheol pulled it away.

“We’re not even in the intense part yet, and you’re already cutting me off?” you teased.

Seungcheol sighed, unimpressed. “You’re about to finish the whole bottle.”

Giving up, you sighed, letting the tipsy haze settle. “You know what really happened to me at the time? I was in a phase where I had no idea what I was doing. I had a Communications degree with nothing to show for it in my resume.”

Shaking your head, you added. “How did I end up as a reservation agent in a fancy hotel anyway? I forgot, but I do remember working my ass off because the pay was good. And two years passed in a job I didn’t even like. Meanwhile, Vernon’s company was rapidly growing, his success was right around the corner, if not already achieved. He’d done so much in the same amount of time.”

“I was proud of him, but I was also jealous... and so insecure. I felt like I wasn’t enough for him, that he deserved someone on his level—and that wasn’t me.”

Seungcheol shifted in his seat. “Did you ever think that maybe what you did didn’t matter to him? That you were enough just as you were?”

You let out a humorless chuckle. “That’s funny, because that’s exactly what he said.”

Vernon said you’d figure it out together, but from that moment on, cracks started appearing in your seemingly perfect relationship. Vernon’s busy schedule, once something you admired, now felt like a gulf widening between you. Every time he stayed late at the office, every time he missed dinner plans, you couldn’t shake the gnawing thought that it wasn’t just work keeping him away. He would come home tired, still smiling, still full of affection—but you couldn’t feel it the same way anymore.

“You’re not even listening,” you snapped one evening after he zoned out during an argument about a towel he left in the bathroom.

“I’m sorry, love,” he said, rubbing his temples. “It’s been a long day. Can we talk about this later?”

But later never came. Each small incident piled on top of the last, and in your mind, it all added up to one conclusion: Vernon was pulling away because you’d rejected his proposal.

Then more cracks began to form, invisible at first but slowly spreading like cracks in a frozen lake. Everything he did seemed to tick you off and while you tried to keep your irritation at bay, sometimes you would just lash out without reaizing it.

One morning, as you both prepared for the day, you noticed Vernon had put your favorite mug in the dishwasher instead of the drying rack.

“Why did you put it in there? It was already clean,” you asked, unable to keep the annoyance from your voice.

Vernon turned, surprise flickering across his features. “I thought it was dirty. I didn’t want it to get mixed up with the clean dishes.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not that hard to tell the difference. I can’t believe you would even think that.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m sorry. I’ll make sure to leave it out next time.”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you muttered under your breath as you pulled the mug from the dishwasher. It was such a small thing, yet it felt like a big deal in the moment, like a representation of everything that was building inside you.

As the week progressed, the little annoyances multiplied. Vernon left his shoes by the door instead of putting them away, and you found yourself snapping at him, “How hard is it to just put them in the closet? It’s not like you don’t have a place for them.”

Vernon shrugged, his voice steady, “I’m sorry, I’ll get to it. I just forget sometimes.” He always took the blame, even when it felt disproportionate.

Then there was the time you both decided to make dinner together. The moment felt lighter at first, the two of you dancing around each other in the kitchen, laughter spilling out between you. But when Vernon tried to help chop the vegetables, you couldn’t help but comment, “Do you have to slice them that thick? They’re going to take forever to cook.”

His smile faltered for a brief second before he responded, “I thought thicker pieces would have more flavor. I’ll do it your way.”

“Just move. I’ll do it,” you said, frustration bubbling up again as you took the knife from his hands. “It’s just food. Why does it matter so much?” you muttered, more to yourself than to Vernon.

Vernon stepped back, hands raised in mock surrender. “I just thought we were cooking together, but okay.”

You glanced at him, guilt creeping in, but instead of apologizing, you huffed and focused on chopping, feeling ridiculous for picking a fight over something so trivial.

As you settled into bed that night, Vernon’s hand slipped under your nightgown caressing your thigh firmly. You scooted away from him, but he reached for you again. Annoyed, you sat up and glared at him. “Can’t you take a hint?” 

His voice softened. “Right, sorry. Let’s just sleep.”

You lay back down, turning your back on him. He moved closer, hugging you from behind and kissing your cheek. You let him, sighing as you convinced yourself to calm down and just bask in the warmth you were familiar with.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asked softly, concern evident in his voice.

“Nothing!” you snapped, then added, “Just go to sleep.”

You hated that you were pushing him away, but the insecurity inside you felt like it was consuming everything. With each argument, the little cracks widened, and you felt more lost than ever.

Days turned into a blur of tiny disputes that left you feeling drained, and yet Vernon remained unfazed, always returning to his gentle, loving demeanor. He brought you flowers one evening, a bouquet of sunflowers that lit up the room. 

“Just because,” he said, grinning. “I thought it’d make you smile.”

“Why? Do I look miserable?” you shot back, though your tone was sharper than you intended.

“Of course not,” he replied, taken aback. “I just wanted to brighten your day.”

You felt awful immediately, but instead of apologizing, you buried your guilt under a facade of anger.

“Do you want to talk about your day?” Vernon asked one evening as you sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone while he pulled off his tie.

“Not really,” you replied curtly, your eyes glued to the screen.

His brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing usually means something,” he pressed, sitting next to you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

You huffed, frustration bubbling over. “Yes. I know. I’m fine. Can we leave it at that?”

He blinked, taken aback. “Love, I’m here for you, alright? Can we talk about this? Don’t shut me out.”

“There is nothing to talk about, Vernon. Why are you making a big deal out of this?” you said, but the rise of your voice was contradicting your statement.

“What do you want me to do?” 

“I don’t know, maybe just actually listen when I say I’m fine?” you shot back, standing up and moving away from him. “Instead of thinking I need saving all the time.”

Vernon sighed, running a hand through his hair, a gesture of exasperation you recognized all too well. “I’m not trying to save you. I just want to understand you..”

You felt a rush of guilt but pushed it away. “Well, you’re not doing a great job of it.”

The evening passed in strained silence. You both tried to move on, but the weight of the argument lingered, coloring everything that followed.

Then came the email. You were sitting at your desk when the notification popped up on your phone. It was from S Magazine, inviting you for an interview based on your writing samples. At first, you stared in disbelief. You hadn’t sent them anything recently.

Later that evening, you confronted Vernon. “Did you submit my work to S Magazine?” you demanded, eyes narrowed as you watched his reaction.

He looked taken aback, his face contorting in confusion. “I did. I thought—”

“Why would you do that?” you cut him off, your voice rising before you even realized it. “You thought it was okay to make that decision for me? You had no right to do that without telling me!”

“I was just trying to help,” Vernon said, standing up from the couch, his brows furrowing in concern. “They told me you hadn’t reached out yet, and it’s such a great opportunity. I figured—”

“You figured what, Vernon?” you interjected again, frustration boiling over. “That I wasn’t good enough on my own? That I needed your help because I’m failing in my career while you’re off succeeding at everything?”

Vernon looked stunned, but his tone remained calm. “Whoa, hold on—” He walked over to you, gently placing his hands on your arms. “You’re upset, love. I can see that. Let’s calm down for a second, talk about this level-headedly.”

You swatted his hands away, your pulse racing. “Am I not good enough for you, Vernon? Is that what this is about?”

“What? No! Why would you even say that?” Vernon’s voice stayed steady, but the confusion was clear in his eyes. “I love you, just the way you are. I’m not trying to undermine you. I only wanted to support you.”

“Support me? Is that what this is? Why does it feel more like you’re trying to fix me?” you yelled, your heart racing. “What do you want from me, Vernon? To be some perfect version of myself so I can keep up with your success?”

He took a step back, his face contorting with hurt and disbelief. “I never said that. Love, where this is coming from?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them away. “It’s coming from me, Vernon. It’s how I feel every time you do something like this. Like you’re trying to make me better because the version of me that exists right now isn’t enough for you.”

His expression softened, but instead of comfort, it only fueled your frustration. “That’s not true,” he said quietly. “I love you—exactly as you are. I just wanted to give you a push toward something you’re passionate about, something I know you care about.”

“I never asked for your help,” you spat, throwing your hands in the air.

Vernon’s patience finally wore thin. “Why are you looking at this so negatively? We’re in this together. I am not against you.”

“You don’t understand!” you yelled, your voice shaking as you finally voiced what had been festering inside you for months. “I feel inadequate, Vernon. I feel like I’m stuck in one place while everything around me is moving forward. Every time you step in like this, it just reinforces that feeling. I’m fucking sick of it!”

His eyes widened, and he took another step back, stunned by your outburst. “That’s not fair,” he said, voice quieter now, as though the weight of your words had finally hit him. “I am so sorry if I made you feel like that, but I would never do it on purpose. I love you. I’m just trying to help you.”

You turned away, wiping your eyes quickly. “That’s enough. I don’t want to hear it anymore.”

There was a long silence before Vernon spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you,” he said, calling your name softly, as if it were a plea.

You heard him, clear as day, but his words felt distant—out of reach, like they didn’t belong to you anymore. Each fight, every misunderstanding, had been a drop in a bucket that now overflowed. The bitterness you felt was like a slow poison, creeping into every corner of your mind.

Vernon sighed heavily, and you heard him walking toward the bedroom, leaving you alone with your spiraling thoughts. The email notification from S Magazine was still open on your phone, but instead of excitement, all you felt was a hollow sense of dread. It should’ve been a dream come true, but now it only felt like a reminder of how lost you were, and how distant you were becoming from the person who loved you most.

A few weeks had passed since the S Magazine argument, but things between you and Vernon hadn’t improved. Every little thing seemed to set off another argument. Tonight, it started with something small—Vernon suggesting you take a break from work and relax. It was his way of showing care, but to you, it felt like a subtle dig at your career.

“I just think you deserve some time to recharge,” he said gently.

You crossed your arms, feeling the frustration bubble up again. “You mean because I’m not working as hard as you are?”

Vernon sighed. “Love, you know that’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you think, right? I can’t keep up with you.”

His face softened as he took a step closer. “I never said that. You’re amazing, and I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”

“How am I supposed to see myself that way when I’m always falling short?”

A heavy silence filled the room before Vernon spoke again, quieter this time. “I don’t know what else to do. I’ve given you space, I’ve tried to support your dreams, and I’ve never stopped loving you. But I can’t keep walking on eggshells, worrying that everything I say is gonna hurt you.”

“Oh? So you can’t do this anymore? Is that it? Do you want me gone, then?”

“No,” you groaned helplessly, rubbing his hands on his face out of frustration. He pulled you into a tight hug, one that made you want to just melt in his arms. “I love you so much. Please. I want to fix this.”

Your tears welled up, heart aching at how much love was in his voice. But that didn’t change the knot of doubt tangled inside you. “I don’t know what I need anymore,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “But I think this isn’t it.”

Vernon froze for a second before pulling away from the hug and looking at you with widened eyes. “No... no, love, don’t say that.” His voice cracked, raw with emotion. “Please, don’t do this. We can figure it out. We always do.”

Your heart clenched at his words, but the doubt that had consumed you wouldn’t let go. You took his hands off your shoulder. “I’m hurting, Vernon. And I’m hurting you. I don’t know how to stop it. I... I need to let you go.”

“No,” he whispered, cupping your cheeks and pressing his forehead against yours. “You don’t mean that. You can’t. Please... don’t leave me.”

Your tears spilled over, and you looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “I can’t keep doing this. I am so lost and I can’t drag you down with me.”

“Love, please,” he begged, his voice cracking now as desperation took over. “We can work through this. I’ll do anything. Tell me what to do, just... don’t give up on us.”

You could feel the sincerity of his love but the storm inside you was too strong. You shook your head, your tears flowing freely now. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered.

Vernon’s face crumpled, and he dropped to his knees in front of you, holding your hands as if holding on would make you stay. “Please,” he choked out, his voice hoarse. “Please don’t leave me. I need you. I love you.”

His words broke you, shattered whatever strength you had left, but you knew it wasn’t enough. You gently pulled your hands away, your heart breaking as you did. “I love you too, Vernon. But I have to go.”

He stayed on the floor, his hands dropping to his sides, eyes red and pleading as he watched you walk away, unable to stop the finality in your stride.

“And then, we broke up,” you said to Seungcheol, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “I moved out and just went on with my life. I cut off all forms of communication with him. It was like... I completely erased him.”

“Was it easy?”

“Fuck no. It was hard. So damn hard.” You took a deep breath before continuing. “After we broke up, I just threw myself into work. It didn’t matter how repetitive it was—I needed the distraction. I didn’t pursue S Magazine either. Just the thought of it reminded me of Vernon… of everything we fought about. So, out of sight, out of mind, right?”

Seungcheol watched you quietly, waiting for you to go on.

“Six months passed. I thought I was fine, you know? That I’d moved on.” You swallowed hard, the memory still fresh. “Then, one day, I heard that Vernon was seen on a date with someone. That’s when it hit me. He really was gone.”

Seungcheol’s brows furrowed. “How did that feel?”

You tried to smile, but it felt hollow. “Like everything came crashing down all over again.”

It was Mina who told you. She said Paul had mentioned seeing Vernon out on a date. It occurred to you that you didn’t tell anyone about the breakup—not your parents, not even Mina who had set you up.

For the last six months, you’d convinced yourself that you were fine—that the breakup didn’t devastate you. And you really believed it was the truth, but when someone finally asked about it, you realized just how painful it was. Mina was gentle, reassuring, and she comforted you. But she was also honest with you when she told you it wasn’t fair for Vernon.

“Your personal issues had nothing to do with him,” Mina said, sitting next to you on the edge of your bed. “Yes, it was awful, and I understand why you were so conflicted and stressed out, but none of it was Vernon’s fault.”

“I know, okay? But there was a lot of things I couldn’t say to him. We had a lot of stuff we couldn’t talk about. Now, there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s over. We’re done,” you had replied, frustration and defeat twisting inside you. 

Mina looked at you with sympathy, but there was also that firmness in her words. “Exactly. So, let it go. There’s no point dwelling on it now that he seemed to be moving on with his life.”

You had nodded then, but deep down, you weren’t ready to hear it. You weren’t ready to face the fact that Vernon wasn’t coming back, or that he was moving on with someone new.

You pretended to be fine. “He’s allowed to date whoever he likes,” you told yourself, repeating the words over and over like a mantra. But at night, when the world went quiet and your thoughts grew louder, your resolve crumbled. You’d find yourself reaching for your phone, fingers instinctively pulling up Vernon’s profile, then Lee Suji’s. It started innocently enough—a quick check just to see how they were doing—but it quickly turned into a habit. Every night, without fail, you’d scroll through their posts, their stories, their pictures.

It was like they were living the life you’d once imagined for yourself. While you were stuck in your repetitive days—getting up, going to work, coming home—it felt like they were living in a different world. They went to fancy dinners, took weekend trips, and posted photos that made their life look like something out of a dream. We used to do that, you thought bitterly, remembering how you would whisk Vernon away to spontaneous trips to give him a break.

Even the small, intimate details made you bitter—the way he looked at her in pictures, his arm casually draped over her shoulders. He used to do that with me, you thought, jealousy gnawing at you. You pictured them curled up on the couch watching movies, the same way you two had on lazy Sunday mornings. Even her captions reminded you of things he’d say to you, the inside jokes you thought were yours alone.

At first, it was just small pangs of longing—a memory of his laugh, the way he’d hold your hand, the sound of his voice calling your name. But those pangs grew sharper, and soon, they twisted into something more painful, more unbearable. They were happy. You could see it in the way they smiled in every picture, the way they stood so close together. Suji was everything you weren’t—successful, elegant, effortless. The kind of woman who could stand by Vernon’s side without feeling out of place.

And with every post, every photo, you sank deeper into the realization that Suji wasn’t just someone he was dating. She was someone he shared the life you used to live with the man you used to love—still love.

You descended further into sadness and regret, your mind constantly comparing yourself to the perfection that was Lee Suji. No matter how hard you tried to shake it off, the feeling lingered, sinking deeper into your chest. It was suffocating. Every night, as you lay down in bed, your thoughts would spiral, and all you could see was Suji’s perfect smile and the way Vernon looked at her—the way he used to look at you.

Some nights, when memories of how Vernon used to touch you started creeping in your mind, the jealousy surged so intensely it left a bitter taste in your mouth. You could practically feel the ghost of his fingertips brushing against your skin—the way he’d run his hand along your back, how his fingers worked you up expertly, or how his lips traced every curve of your body as if he’d memorized them all. Those moments were so intimate, so second-nature between the two of you, that you didn’t even think about them until now—now that they were gone.

You imagined him doing the same things with Suji. Did he hold her the way he used to hold you? Did he memorize her body, just like he did yours? Did he whisper the same sweet words in her ear, making her feel like she was the center of his world? The thought gnawed at you, eating away at the edges of your sanity. It wasn’t just that they were together—it was the idea that your place in his life had been filled, your role in his heart now occupied by someone else.

You tried to shake it off, telling yourself it didn’t matter. He’s allowed to move on. You’re the one who left. But the logic didn’t lessen the sting. The jealousy would flare up, sharp and sudden, whenever you pictured him lying next to her, their legs tangled under the covers the way yours once were. You could almost see it—their lazy mornings, their heated nights, and the gestures of love and affection. You used to be the one he reached for in the middle of the night, pulling you close as if you were the most important thing in his world.

And now, all of that belonged to someone else.

One day, you bumped into Seungkwan at the supermarket—an unexpected encounter that caught you off guard. After exchanging pleasantries, for some reason, you both ended up sitting at a cafe down the street. The clatter of cups and faint hum of conversation around filled the awkward silence between you.

Seungkwan stirred his coffee absentmindedly, his eyes narrowing slightly before he finally spoke. “Her name is Suji, and she’s a friend of mine.”

You blinked at him, not quite sure where this is going. “Oh... I see.”

He took a sip, eyeing you with frustration in his eyes. “I should’ve introduced them sooner if I’d known you’d dump Vernon anyway.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you tried to shrug it off with a smirk. “Okay, Boo. I get it, you hate me. There’s no need to say it to my face.”

He set his cup down, the ceramic clinking against the saucer a little too sharply. His gaze didn’t waver, and there was no amusement in his eyes. “You see, that’s the problem with you. You jump to conclusions. You make these one-sided assumptions and cling to them like they’re fact. Right now, you’re assuming I hate you when I never did.”

The casual tone caught you off guard. You frowned. “But why—”

“You had your reasons,” Seungkwan cut you off, his voice firm but not unkind. “You had your own issues. I get that. What I hated wasn’t you. What I hated was what you did.”

You stared at him, the pit in your stomach growing heavier. “Boo...”

“I hated how you broke Vernon to pieces like it was the easiest thing in the world,” he said, his words blunt.

The sting of his words sliced deeper than you expected. You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but your voice comes out small, trembling. “You don’t get to say that to me. It wasn’t easy, and you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “You’re right. I don’t know everything. I don’t know what it was like for you after the breakup. Maybe you were a mess, too, I don’t know. But I do know what a wreck Vernon was when you left him. Did it ever cross your mind how difficult it would be for him to deal with that?”

You stared down at your coffee, the steam swirling like the thoughts that had been haunting you for months. The truth was, you had thought about it—how much it must’ve hurt Vernon, how hard he was taking it. But you buried it, pushed it away because it was easier than facing how deeply you’d broken him.

“He didn’t deserve it,” Seungkwan continued, his voice softer now, more resigned. “Not when all he ever did was love you, support you, and try to make things better for you. You let your bruised ego push him away—someone who would’ve given anything just to see you happy.”

The words landed heavily, and you felt a lump form in your throat. Deep down, you knew he was right. You’d convinced yourself that walking away was the only option, that you couldn’t keep up with Vernon’s success, that you were dragging him down. But Seungkwan’s words twisted the knife—Vernon didn’t deserve it.

“I thought...” You swallowed hard, struggling to find your voice. “I thought I was doing the right thing. For both of us.”

Seungkwan scoffed, shaking his head. “Exactly. You alone made that choice for both of you, and then left him to pick up the pieces.”

The conversation with Seungkwan lingered in your mind the next day, following you like a shadow as you walked to work. Vernon had consumed your thoughts all night, leaving you tossing and turning, unable to sleep. By the time you reached the office building, you were moving on autopilot, too lost in your head to notice the man exiting through the doors.

You bumped into him, your balance faltering on your high heels as you toppled backward. But before you hit the marble floor, strong arms caught you, steadying you.

“Careful there,” the man said, his voice light.

You glanced up, meeting his gaze. His easy smile widened into something more familiar as recognition flickered in his eyes.

“Well, look who it is.”

Your brows shot up. “Kim Mingyu?”

“Kim Mingyu?” Seungcheol questioned, his brow lifting in mild surprise.

You waved your hand dismissively. “I know. The plot thickens,” you huffed, reaching for the bottle that Seungcheol had tucked away from your reach.

“No,” he said sternly, swatting your hand away.

Running into Mingyu after all these years was unexpected, but surprisingly pleasant. He was as charming as ever, his smile lighting up when he saw you, and after a few minutes of small talk, he’d casually asked if he could take you out to dinner and catch up. You agreed—there was something comforting in reconnecting with an old friend, especially someone who’d been a significant part of your past.

Dinner with Mingyu turned out to be more nostalgic than you expected. Over shared plates of pasta and wine, you talked about your lives, reminiscing over the days when things were simpler but also more uncertain. Mingyu had changed since the last time you’d seen him. The sadness that used to cloud his eyes had lifted, and he seemed lighter—less burdened by the weight of the world.

“So, how are you?” you asked, leaning back in your chair, swirling the wine in your glass.

Mingyu grinned, almost sheepish. “I’m doing better now. So much better.” His voice softened as he continued, “I don’t… disappear randomly anymore. I guess I’m finally where I’m supposed to be. I’m happier. Took me a while, but here I am.”

“That’s great to hear,” you said, smiling. It was nice to see him thriving, a stark contrast to the depression he’d struggled with before.

He met your eyes, his expression was sincere.  “I’m gonna be honest, it was the bears.”

You were confused for a second, but then your remembered. “Oh, you mean— No way?”

“Way. Here look.” He pulled his phone out and showed you a picture of bear figurines on a desk with his nameplate on it.

“Are you serious? You still have them?” you asked, genuinely surprised. Mingyu nodded proudly. “Wow. That’s… amazing.”

“The bears were just an excuse,” he admitted, his tone softening. “Truth is, I have you to thank. You sent them back with a kind note. You encouraged me to figure it out, even when I was too wrapped up in my own head. It made a difference.”

You shook your head, feeling a bit bashful. “That note was cheesy.”

He chuckled, the sound full of nostalgia. “Actually, yes, it is kinda cheesy now. But, back then, I was desperate for a helping hand, so... yeah, it meant a lot.”

“Well, you’re welcome. Although, I think it was all you.”

Mingyu smiled, leaning back in his chair. “Maybe. But sometimes, when you’re lost, you need someone to remind you that you’re capable of finding your own way. That’s what you did. But yeah, I guess you’re right. It was always up to me to make the changes.”

You smiled, pride and humility swelling in your chest. You reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m so proud of you.”

His eyes softened, and just as you began to withdraw your hand, Mingyu caught it, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles. “It’s really good to see you after all these years,” he said quietly, his gaze lingering on yours.

The dinner continued at the bar, where you talked some more over wine. You had forgotten how funny Mingyu could be, and now that you were rediscovering it, you couldn’t stop grinning and giggling at his anecdotes. He seemed equally amused by your stories, laughing heartily in a way that made you feel like no time had passed at all.

Before you knew it, you were in the elevator, lips crashing into each other with a kind of desperation. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, while your fingers tangled in his hair, holding onto him for dear life. The soft ding of the elevator doors opening barely registered in your mind as Mingyu led you, still kissing, down the hallway to his suite.

Fumbling with the key card, Mingyu finally managed to open the door, and you stumbled inside together, your lips never parting. The room was dimly lit, and the city lights from outside twinkled beautifully. Mingyu guided you toward the bed, but you broke the kiss, breathless as you looked up at him, your heart racing.

“Is this what you came here for?” you teased, your fingers brushing against his cheek.

He smiled, a little out of breath himself. “I’m here for work, but, this is a welcome distraction.”

You giggled, leaning closer and biting his lower lip. Neither of you was gentle but you weren’t in a rush either. The way Mingyu touched you now was different from the rushed urgency in the elevator—this was tender, deliberate, and fervent all at the same time. Each kiss, each caress, felt like a reunion of sorts, as if you were both rediscovering each other after so much time apart.

You forgot how you managed to take your clothes off, but you knew you were already naked the second Mingyu’s lips found yours again—softer this time, and you melted into the sensation, the warmth of his body against yours was a welcome comfort. He paused, pulling back slightly to look at you, his eyes filled with desire.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

You smiled, trailing your fingertips from his nape to his chest that had grown more muscular over the years. “Yes, totally.”

And in the moment, you tossed away every weight pressing down on your chest, letting yourself get lost in the euphoria of Mingyu’s touch.

In the morning, you made your way out of Mingyu’s suite with a pit in your stomach. The walk of shame felt heavier than it should’ve. You scolded yourself for letting things go too far, for taking advantage of someone kind who was blissfully unaware of the mess inside your head. 

“I’ve missed you,” he’d mumbled sometime in the night, while you were wrapped around his warm embrace. “I missed you when I left. I missed you all these years. I tried to reach out several times but I knew it would be shameless of me to waltz back into your life without first fixing my own.”

And then, in your silence, he had added, “I’m all fixed now, baby,” just before he drifted off to sleep.

Mingyu probably thought last night meant something, that maybe you could rekindle what you once lost, and start fresh. But that wasn’t the case. You knew deep down you were just lonely, craving the warmth of someone else’s touch to fill the void Vernon had left behind.

When you reached the hotel lobby, you wrapped your coat tighter around yourself, hoping to slip by unnoticed. But as you neared the front desk, you froze. Vernon was standing there, talking to Sally.

Your breath hitched in your throat. For a split second, you considered turning around, making a quick escape, but then Vernon’s eyes caught yours. His face lit up with a polite smile, the kind that he often gave his friends. Your heart sank seeing that, knowing you’d never get to see him smile genuinely at you again.

And just like that, the weight in your chest doubled.

“Vernon,” you greeted as you approached him, forcing your voice to sound steady. “What brings you here?”

He took in your appearance, and you felt a rush of self-consciousness wash over you. You were aware that you didn’t look ready for work, the remnants of last night still clinging to you. “I, uh…” he hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly. “I wanted to talk to you about something, but I didn’t know how to contact you, so I thought I’d drop by instead.”

“What is it?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light, even as your heart raced.

Vernon glanced around for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “Well, I need your new address so I can mail back your stuff that you left at our—well, my apartment.”

“Oh,” you blurted, not registering anything but the slip of his tongue that almost made him say ‘our apartment’. “Okay. Um…”

You stammered for a second, unsure how to proceed. “Actually, what if I just go pick them up myself? That way, I can make sure I don’t leave anything behind.”

Vernon hesitated for a second. “Sure. That would be more convenient.”

“Cool. When can I drop by?”

“When are you free?” he asked back. 

You searched his face for any hint of what he was feeling, but his expression remained carefully neutral. You cleared your throat. “How about Friday evening after work? I should be free then.”

“Friday works,” he replied, nodding slowly. 

You felt a knot tighten in your stomach at the thought of seeing the apartment again, the place where so many memories lingered like ghosts. “Okay, I will,” you said, trying to sound casual but failing to mask the underlying anxiety in your voice.

He glanced down, shuffling his feet slightly, and for a fleeting moment, you glimpsed the Vernon you once knew—the one who could fill a room with laughter, whose eyes sparkled with genuine warmth. “I hope it won’t be too weird,” he added quietly, breaking the silence again.

You wanted to reassure him, to say that it wouldn’t be weird at all, but the truth was that it would be strange, and painful too. “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you replied instead, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

He just nodded and you both fell quiet again. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, your mind filled with words you wanted to say but couldn’t. Not because you didn’t want to, but because there was no point saying them anymore. “I—uh, I should get going.” you prompted, not wanting to overstay your welcome but reluctant to leave him.

“Right,” he said, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary, as if he was searching for something in your eyes. “See you Friday, then.”

“Yeah, see you Friday,” you echoed, walking away.

The prospect of seeing Vernon again was both exhilarating and terrifying. But as you walked away, you reminded yourself that you were both on different paths now, and you should be moving forward instead of dwelling on what could’ve been.

Halfway through your shift, you stepped outside for lunch with your coworkers, the chatter around you was a welcome distraction from the morning’s events. As you returned to the lobby, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of Mingyu waiting for you. He greeted you with a broad smile, holding out a bouquet of vibrant flowers that seemed to brighten the entire space. You were flustered, and you became hyper-aware of the intrigued looks from your coworkers.

“You were gone when I woke up,” he said, his grin unwavering as you led him to a quiet corner of the lobby. 

“Yeah, well. I have work,” you replied, motioning to the front desk. “Were you waiting for me?”

Mingyu nodded, still smiling. “Yes. I was wondering if you have time tonight.”

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, and it clashed with the lingering happiness of the previous night. “Mingyu, I’m sorry. I don’t think we should do this. Last night was amazing, but I’m not really in the right headspace for any kind of commitment right now.”

His smile faltered for just a moment before he shrugged. “Oh, well. That’s a shame then.” You thought he’d be more disappointed but he seemed… indifferent? “I would have loved to try again, but it’s fine if you can’t.”

The sincerity in his voice tugged at your heart. “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” he said, his grin returning like a boomerang. “Does that mean you wouldn’t want to hang out with me again? Even if it’s just… casual?”

You hesitated, weighing the implications. It didn’t sound so bad. “I… would love to. Heh.”

“Great! So, are you free tonight? I’m going to this gala later and I’m looking for a date.”

Caught off guard by the suddenness of his invitation, you blinked, your mind racing. A gala? With Mingyu? You didn’t want to lead him on, but the thought of dressing up, laughing, and being swept away from reality for a few hours was tempting. “Okay? Yeah. Sure.”

Mingyu’s smile widened, infectious and genuine. “Perfect! I’ll pick you up at seven?”

You nodded. “Sounds good.”

That night, you stood in front of the mirror, your silvery satin dress shimmering under the light. It hugged your figure perfectly, something you hadn't paid much attention to in the past six months. As you adjusted a strand of hair, memories of those glamorous nights with Vernon surfaced uninvited—how he’d surprise you with a new dress and an invitation to a posh party, how he’d walk into the venues with his hand on your back, swelling with pride because you looked graceful next to him. And of course, there were those moments when you’d leave those parties early to grab pizza in some greasy diner, laughing in your tux and gown, ignoring the puzzled looks from other diners.

A smile tugged at your lips, recalling the memories that used to warm your heart but now left a bittersweet taste in your mouth.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling you out of your thoughts. Mingyu had arrived. With one last glance in the mirror, you grabbed your things and hurried downstairs, finding him by his car. He greeted you with a wide smile, taking your hand and brushing his lips against your knuckles. It was a sweet gesture, and yet, it felt… foreign.

“You look stunning,” he beamed, holding the car door open for you.

As soon as you sat down and he closed the door, you felt a sudden pang in your chest—one that pained both your heart and your soul. The car was nice, but the unfamiliar interior and smell weighed heavily in your chest.

“Are you ready?” Mingyu asked, prompting your attention. You didn’t even notice him getting in, too absorbed in your thoughts.

“Yes,” you replied, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

When you reached the venue, the soft murmur of voices and the clinking of champagne glasses surrounded you. Mingyu’s hand rested lightly on your back as he guided you through the sea of guests, his presence warm and reassuring. Yet, despite his charm and ease, your mind kept wandering to the memories of the parties you’d went to with Vernon. 

Then, in a moment that seemed to pull you out of the haze, you saw him—Vernon, standing by one of the tall, draped windows, dressed in a sleek black suit. For a second, your breath caught in your throat. He looked just as you remembered, the same effortless grace, the quiet confidence. And…was that a flicker of jealousy in his eyes? You thought it was—his gaze lingering on you and Mingyu as you passed by.

Your heart raced as you tried to gauge his reaction, convinced he was feeling what you thought he felt. But just as quickly as the thought surfaced, Suji appeared beside him. She was stunning—tall, poised, with an air of elegance that made her impossible to miss. You haven’t met her before, but she looked like the kind of woman who had it all together, someone who seemed to float through life with ease. The way she stood next to Vernon with her hand lightly brushing his arm, sent a wave of nausea rolling through you.

Your chest tightened. Why did he have to pick someone who was so much better than you in many ways? Someone who knew exactly what she was passionate about and pursued it. Someone who exuded confidence effortlessly, not only in how she carried herself but in how sure she was in her career, her life, her choices.

You couldn’t stop the flood of comparisons. It was like Suji was standing on this pedestal that you could never quite reach, her brilliance making you feel smaller with every passing second. It was the worst. Vernon had moved on to someone who was everything you couldn’t be, everything you had once dreamed of being but had never managed to become.

Mingyu said something, trying to catch your attention, but his words blurred into the background as you watched Suji laugh at something Vernon said. The sound of her laughter—genuine, light, carefree—echoed in your mind like a mocking reminder of all the things you weren’t.

He’s happy, you realized, the thought hitting you harder than expected.

You turned away, clutching the stem of your champagne glass a little too tightly, forcing yourself to swallow the bitterness rising in your throat. But the smile you gave Mingyu, like everything else that night, didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Was it a bad idea?” Mingyu asked, cocking an eyebrow at you. “Coming here with me, I mean. Is he not supposed to see us together?”

You followed his gaze and saw that he was looking at Vernon. You shook your head. “No. It’s nothing like that.”

“Are you sure?” He held his jaw and moved it. “What if I get smacked? My jaw still hurts from getting punched by some dude two weeks ago.”

“Why would someone punch you?”

Mingyu grinned naughtily. “Let’s just say I’m a main event everywhere I go and I invite trouble from boyfriends who couldn’t stand seeing their girls fawn over me.”

You smirked, rolling your eyes though you found his cockiness funny. “Well, then you don’t have to worry about your jaw tonight. He has no reason to break it because…” you trailed off, sighing. “Just because.”

“Alright, I’ll take your word for it,” he chimed before excusing himself to talk to someone and leaving you alone for a moment. You glanced around, trying to distract yourself from the heaviness that had been following you all night.

That was when Vernon appeared by your side. “Hey,” he said, his voice casual. 

“Hi,” you replied, forcing a smile. “Good to see you. What’s up?”

“I thought I should let you know,” he began, a little hesitant. “I’m selling our apartment.”

You blinked, taken aback by his statement. “Oh. Well, you didn’t have to tell me. It’s yours, you can sell it if you want,” you replied, steadying your voice to hide the fact that your heart was racing.

“I know, but you lived there too, so you should at least know it’s going to someone else now,” he said, flattening his lips together. “It’d be good to grab your things as soon as possible too.”

“Of course! Friday after work, right? We agreed.”

“Yes,” he said before both of your fell silent.

You wanted to say something, anything, to cut through the tension, but everything felt wrong. Then, Vernon added, “I should go.”

You just hummed in response, nodding  as he walked away. Mingyu rejoined you then, tugging your elbow gently as he faced you with a mischievous smile.

“Would you care to fill me in on this… situation?” he asked teasingly.

You rolled your eyes but you couldn’t hide the self-deprecating smile on your lips. “It’s a situation, that’s all you have to know.”

Mingyu took the flute from your hand and swapped it with a new one from the busboy who happened to pass by. Before giving it to you, he lifted it and grinned. “How many glasses of champagne before you willingly tell me everything?”

You scoffed. “Even if you give me an entire bottle—” you swiped the glass from his hand. “I’m not gonna tell you.”

“Boohoo. So boring,” he sniggered.

Some time within the night, you’d find yourself in a deserted hallway with Mingyu, making out with your back against the wall while he towered over you. The champagne buzz had reached your head and it didn’t help that you were clinging on a incredibly good-looking man who kept a firm hand on your waist all night. You knew you had to go back to his suite with him, and honestly? You were looking forward to it.

Soon, the party started to wind down. You and Mingyu agreed that it was time to go. You stepped out of the hotel with Mingyu’s coat on to shield you from the cold. His arm around your shoulders helped keep you warm too as you waited for the valet to arrive with his car.

Mingyu’s phone buzzed in his pocket and upon checking it, his brows furrowed darkly. “Damn it, not again.”

“What’s wrong?”

He sighed and then squeezed your shoulder before letting go. “I need to check something. I’ll be right back.”

You nodded and he pressed a soft kiss on your cheek before walking away. As you watched him leave, you tightened his coat around you, looking back at the hotel lobby and wondering if you should go back inside. You were doing that when your gaze caught Vernon’s.

He was standing just a few steps away with his phone pressed on his ear. He saw you looking and nodded as a greeting. You mirrored his greeting, looking away right after and hoping to avoid conversation.

Mingyu came rushing back in no time, his phone pressed to his ear, frustration lining his face. He muttered a quick apology into the receiver before hanging up.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, furrowing your brows.

Mingyu let out a long sigh. “My car won’t start. I was trying to get it sorted with the valet, but it looks like I’m going to be stuck here for a while.”

You glanced at the time on your phone, noting how late it was getting. “Oh no… do you need me to wait with you?”

Mingyu shook his head, his expression still annoyed but softening when he met your eyes. “Nah, you don’t have to. I’ll be fine, but you should head home. I’ll get you a cab.”

Before you could figure out how to respond, Vernon spoke up. “I can give you a ride,” he offered, his voice firm but not insistent. “It’s no trouble.”

You hesitated for a moment, glancing between the two men. Mingyu gave you a hesitant look. “Is that okay with you? Do you know each other?” he asked, though he already knew who Vernon was to you.

“Yes, but I’m not sure,” you replied, surprising yourself with your honesty. “I think I’ll take a cab. I don’t want to impose.”

“Please, I insist,” Vernon said, walking closer. He must have noticed you looking behind him because he added, “You’re not imposing.”

You stared at him for a while, gouging out what he was thinking, but there was no hint of it in the way his expression remained unfazed. Mingyu’s hand on your shoulders prompted your attention.

“If you don’t trust him, let’s just get you a cab,” Mingyu offered, but you could see the glint of mischief in his eyes. He was enjoying this. He probably thought this ‘drama’ was entertaining.

“I’m sure I’m far more trustworthy than any taxi driver,” Vernon interjected.

“Well… if you’re sure,” you mumbled, avoiding Vernon’s gaze. You met Mingyu’s instead, and you could almost see the triumph in his eyes. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. Just text me when you get home,” he said, waving goodbye. You could almost say he was excited to see you leave with your ex.

Mingyu gave you a soft kiss before saying goodbye. Still wrapped in Mingyu’s coat, you walked quietly behind Vernon, trying to steady your breathing and hoping he wouldn’t notice that you were nervous.

Vernon opened the passenger door for you, and as you sat down inside his car, a rush of memories hit you all at once. It was familiar, too familiar. Even the scent was engulfing you with nostalgia. This was the first time you’d ever felt like an outsider in such a familiar space.

“Where’s your apartment?”

You quietly typed in your address in the navigator and didn’t say anything else. Vernon seemed to understand your silence and he started driving without a word.

“I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” Vernon was the first to break the silence that had stretched on for about fifteen minutes.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “Same here.”

“How do you know Kim Mingyu?” he asked, his eyes flicking toward you briefly before focusing on the road again. You couldn’t tell what his intentions were, nor could you grasp his emotions when he asked that.

“Why do you care?” you retorted, the words coming out sharper than you’d intended.

He paused before answering, his voice measured. “It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me. I just want you to be careful. I’ve heard things about him. He’s got a bit of a reputation for being… a player.”

You scoffed lightly, turning your gaze out the window. “He’s a friend from college. I’m sure I know him better.”

“If you say so.” There was a moment of hesitation before he added, “Just… take care of yourself. I’m not trying to tell you what to do. You can hang out with anyone you like. I just hope you’d be careful, that’s all.”

Your chest tightened at his concern, but instead of acknowledging it, you let out a small breath. “His car wasn’t yours.”

Vernon glanced at you, clearly puzzled. “What?”

You stayed quiet, refusing to repeat yourself. Soon, the car slowed to a stop in front of your apartment building. You unbuckled your seatbelt, hesitating before reaching for the door handle. Vernon’s hands remained on the steering wheel, his knuckles pale in the dim light.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said, your voice softer than before.

“No problem,” he replied with his eyes straight ahead, avoiding yours.

You opened the door but paused halfway out. There was something in the air between you and it made it impossible to just leave. You needed to ask him, even if you weren’t sure you wanted the answer.

“Vernon,” you started, turning back toward him. His name left your lips before you fully realized what you were about to say. He glanced at you, brows slightly raised in question. “Why didn’t you… why didn’t you fight for us?”

The question hung in the air, almost visible in the thick silence that followed. Vernon blinked, his expression unreadable at first. He shifted in his seat, letting out a slow breath as if he’d been holding it for a long time.

“I did,” he said finally, his voice low, like he was admitting something he hadn’t wanted to. “I did fight for us. But you—” He stopped, choosing his words carefully. “You were already gone. You’d made up your mind.”

You swallowed hard. “But you just let me go.”

Vernon turned his body slightly to face you, his eyes finally locking with yours. “I just let you go? I begged you to stay, did you forget?”

“No, I didn’t. But after that, when the emotional outburst was over, when we were calmer and more rational, why didn’t you try to fight for us?” you asked, your brows furrowed in curiosity.

“Well, why didn’t you?” he asked back, and suddenly, you forgot how to speak. Vernon watched you for a while, taking in your silence and seemingly coming to his own conclusion.

“I didn’t let you go because I wanted to,” he said, his voice rough around the edges. “I let you go because you wanted to. And I thought it was what you needed. And besides, I didn’t know how to fix it. Everything I did felt like it just made things worse. I loved you, but… I didn’t know how to make you stay.”

Something open inside you, something you hadn’t wanted to confront. But hearing him like this now, you had no choice but to accept the truth that it was your fault you broke up. You already knew, you just chose to delude yourself into thinking it was both your fault and his. 

The car felt smaller now, with the tension hanging in the air so thick it felt like you were suffocating. You could hear Vernon’s breathing, steady but shallow, and you realized how close you both were.

“I should go,” you whispered, but your body stayed frozen in place. Neither of you moved.

Vernon just nodded, his eyes still searching yours as if he was trying to figure out if there was something more to say. In the dim light, they seemed softer, more vulnerable than you’d remembered. His gaze flicked down to your lips for the briefest of moments before returning to your eyes. It was barely noticeable, but you caught it and your pulse quickened.

You should leave. This wasn’t part of the plan—letting things get tangled up again, letting the past claw its way back. But instead, you stayed rooted in place.

You gathered your thoughts for a proper goodbye. “I’m sorry for everything, Vernon. I wished things had gone differently between us,” you said quietly. Your hand had somehow found its way to his arm, just resting there, the warmth of his arm seeping into your fingers. He looked down at your hand, and then back up at you.

“Too late for that now, isn’t it?” His voice was soft, vulnerable, and the intensity of it made your heart ache. 

“I know,” you replied, smiling timidly. 

Vernon didn’t say anything and just stared at you. You stared back, trying to understand the meaning behind his gaze and the significance of the slight scowl on his face. You didn’t even notice that you were both leaning in slowly. Only when you felt the warmth of his breath against your cheek did you realize how close you’d gotten. Your breath caught in your throat, your body frozen in place, torn between wanting to close the gap and knowing you shouldn’t.

For a split second, you thought he might kiss you. The thought sent a shockwave of emotion through you—longing, confusion, excitement and fear all at once. You tilted your head ever so slightly, your lips just a breath away from his.

But you stopped yourself. “No,” you whispered, pulling back just enough to break the spell that had momentarily taken hold of both of you. “This isn’t… we shouldn’t.”

“Right,” he said quietly, his voice flat. His jaw clenched, his eyes flicking away from yours as he leaned back into his seat. “I’m sorry.”

“I… I should go,” you repeated, this time you mean it. You pushed the door open and stepped out.

Vernon didn’t stop you. He just nodded, his eyes no longer meeting yours. “Take care of yourself,” he said softly.

You nodded, slipping out of the car, your body still buzzing with the closeness you had almost let happen. As you walked toward your building, you didn’t look back, but you could still feel his presence behind you.

And despite everything, as you climbed the steps to your apartment, a part of you wondered what would happen if you didn’t pull away.

The next day, you met with Mingyu just before he left. The conversation was easy, perfectly civil as if nothing significant had happened. He flashed his usual grin as he told you, “I’m flying back tomorrow.”

“It was fun having you around,” you said, offering him a polite smile.

“You liked the distraction, huh?” he retorted, wiggling his eyebrows.

Chuckling, you hit his chest. “Let me know if you’re ever in town.”

“Are you gonna show me a good time?” he teased, tilting his head as he leaned closer.

You rolled your eyes, a small scoff escaping your lips. “Just go away.”

After a tender kiss on your cheek, Mingyu waved you off, and just like that, he was gone—another fleeting moment in a series of encounters that left you feeling emptier than before.

By the weekend, you felt like dying, literally. It started with a sore throat, then chills, until finally, you found yourself curled up under layers of blankets, sick and miserable—alone in your apartment that felt too quiet, too cold. 

You lay there, groggy and disoriented, and all you could think about was how Vernon used to take care of you when you were sick. He’d make you soup, sit by your bedside, and remind you to take your medicine. He knew exactly how to make you feel comforted, even when you couldn’t take care of yourself. 

But now, Vernon was gone. You had to handle this on your own. You didn’t realize how much you’d miss being babied until now.

The day dragged on, your body was weak and heavy, and the hours blurred together in a feverish haze. It wasn’t until the afternoon that you heard a knock at your door—insistent, again and again, until it forced you to get up.

You shuffled to the door, body aching with every step. When you opened it, it was Vernon standing on the other side with a suitcase, most probably filled with the last of your things from his place. 

“Hi. You didn’t come by yesterday, so I thought I’d just…” he started, but then his eyes took in your pale complexion, the fatigue written all over your face. “...drop your things—are you okay?”

“Peachy,” you managed to quip.

“Here, let’s take you back inside.”

Before you could protest, Vernon took you by the arm and guided you back inside to your bed. You were too weak to argue, your body giving in to the relief of being cared for, if only for a moment. He tucked you in nicely, and you watched as he moved across the room to adjust the lights and your thermostat.

“How long have you been sick like this?” you heard him ask, and although you opened your mouth to speak, you weren’t sure if you answered him out loud before drifting off to sleep.

The next time you woke up, the room was dim, and the afternoon light pouring into the windows slowly faded into the evening. You blinked, disoriented, and realized you were tucked neatly into bed with a fever patch on your forehead. Across from you, Vernon sat on the couch, scrolling through his phone. The sight of him there, in your space, felt surreal—like a piece of the past had materialized in your present.

I thought it was a dream, you pondered as you pushed yourself up with your hands.

When Vernon noticed you stirring, he stood, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Sorry. I was just about to leave,” he said, his voice quiet. “I left some food on the table.”

You sat up slowly, the blankets still tangled around you. “Why are you here?” The question came out softer than you intended, but you needed to know. It didn’t make sense—why he was doing this, why he cared enough to be here now.

Vernon hesitated, his hand hovering by the doorframe. “I just… wanted to make sure you were okay. That’s all.”

You frowned, not buying it. “You didn’t have to. You had no reason to.”

“I couldn’t really leave you like that,” he replied, a tightness in his voice. “I’m just looking out for you. For old time’s sake.”

“For old time’s sake,” you mocked, your words tinged with bitterness. “Right.”

He shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting away from yours. But the tension in the air had already thickened, pulling at the edges of the conversation. You couldn’t let it go—not this time.

“You’re lying, Vernon,” you said, sitting up straighter now, the exhaustion in your body giving way to something sharper. “You’re not here just for old time’s sake.”

Vernon sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not lying.”

“Then why are you here?” you pressed, your voice rising. “Why are you acting like you care? If you don’t—if you don’t love me anymore, then why are you here?”

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he didn’t answer. The silence stretched, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. 

“I’m just trying to do the right thing,” he finally said, his tone more strained than before. “It didn’t feel right to see you suffering alone.”

“You’re doing this because you still care,” you shot back. “I can see it. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”

Vernon’s expression hardened. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it?” you demanded, your voice breaking slightly.

His eyes met yours, conflicted, and for a moment, you thought he might say something—something that would change everything. But then he shook his head, stepping back toward the door. 

“I’m leaving,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. 

A sudden impulse surged through you. You rose to your feet, feeling a little dizzy for standing up too fast. “Do you love her?” you asked, making Vernon stop dead in his tracks.

You stared at his back, chest tightening with frustration and longing. “Vernon, do you love her? Are you gonna marry her?”

“I don’t need to answer that.”

“Why not?” you demanded. “How hard was it? It’s a yes or no answer, Vernon.”

“And it’s not going to help you. If anything, I might end up hurting you more.”

“Why do you care how I feel?”

He turned to face you, frustration etched on his features. “What do you want me to say? That I’m miserable without you? That I can’t stand the thought of you with someone else? Because that’s not the truth and it isn’t fair to any of us.”

“Not fair?” you echoed incredulously. “What’s not fair is you leading me on! Making me think there is something for me to hold on to when there isn’t! That is what’s not fair!”

Vernon took a step closer, his expression darkening. “I’m not leading you on. Just because I care about you as someone who used to be special to me, doesn’t mean I’m trying to get back with you. It isn’t my fault if you’re misinterpreting my actions. ”

You glared at him, heart pounding. “Then answer my question,” you huffed, grabbing him by the collar and staring right into his eyes. “Do you love her?”

Silence enveloped you both, the tension was so thick that you could hear nothing but the heavy breathing from you and Vernon. You both stood there, staring into each other’s souls, tangled in a web of unresolved emotions.

Before you could register what was happening, he reached for you, cupping your face with his hands. And then his lips were on yours, tentative at first, igniting a fire that had long been extinguished. You kissed him back, the familiar warmth washing over you, the taste of him awakening something deep inside you that you thought had faded.

As the kiss deepened, it felt right in a way that nothing else had in months. You were lost in the moment, the world around you blurring until there was nothing but him and you.

But just as quickly as the warmth enveloped you, a cold wave of doubt crashed over your mind. You pulled away panting, uncertainty clouding your thoughts, telling you this shouldn’t be happening.

“Vernon…” you started, but he was already leaning in again, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss that stole the breath from your lungs.

In the haze of passion, you both stumbled toward the bed, and everything fell away—time, space, even the reality of your situation. It felt exhilarating to be with him again, to feel desired and loved, even if just for a moment.

But as morning light filtered through the curtains, reality came crashing back. You blinked awake, groggy and disoriented, the warmth of the bed and the fading memories of the night before slowly coming into focus.

“You’re so beautiful,” Vernon had whispered in your ear last night. “You’ve always been beautiful.”

You forgot how you felt when you heard that from him, but you knew it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. Your heart raced as you turned to the other side of the bed expecting to find it empty—and it was. The space beside you was cold. The warmth that enveloped you last night was now replaced by an aching void. Vernon was gone.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed, heart sinking as memories of the night flooded back—how it felt to be with him, how everything seemed to fall back into place, if only for a fleeting moment. But the bliss faded as quickly as it had come, replaced by a feeling of immense unease.

Rubbing your eyes, you stumbled into the bathroom where the harsh fluorescent light flickered to life. You blinked at your reflection in the mirror, and your heart plummeted at the woman staring back at you—disheveled, hair a mess, eyes filled with confusion and regret.

“What did you do?” you whispered, covering your mouth with your hand as you fell on weakened knees.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you felt a wave of disgust wash over you. The reality and the consequences of your actions came crashing down. You had crossed a line. You made Vernon cheat on his girlfriend all because you couldn’t bear the thought of him moving on. How could you have let this happen? You felt awful, a knot of shame twisting in your gut. You had chased a fleeting feeling, clung to a moment that meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. 

And now as you sat on your bathroom floor, sobbing uncontrollably, you couldn’t escape the truth; you had betrayed not just Vernon or Suji, but yourself. Regret filled your mind, and all you could think about was the pain you’d caused everyone and how that would haunt you long after this moment faded into memory.

Seungcheol’s eyes didn’t leave you, the slight furrow on his brows was a clear display of his disappointment toward you.

“I know. I was disappointed in myself too,” you said, letting out a deprecatory laugh. “I was stupid and I regretted it.”

“I’m not disappointed. I can’t possibly judge you for that,” he replied, waving a hand dismissively. “It was just unexpected from you.”

“Oh, so you know me now?”

“You’ve shared three of these stories. I think I have a grasp on what kind of person you are now,” he replied, eyeing you with a hint of curiosity and amusement on his face.

You hummed, tilting your head slightly. “Touche.” You sat up straight, eyeing the bottle in front of Seungcheol. He saw how your eyes twinkled with mischief and as if in defeat, he took the bottle and poured you a glass with a sigh.

“Thanks,” you chimed, taking a sip. “So, since you have a ‘grasp’ of who I am now, how would you have reacted if you were my friend at the time and I told you what I did?”

Seungcheol didn’t miss a beat. “I’d tell you ‘you messed up’.”

You gasped, hands covering your mouth dramatically. “No fucking way.”

The first thing you did after realizing your mistake was take a long bath and cry your eyes out. After that, you called Mina, desperate to talk to someone who would listen. Her reaction was not what you had hoped for, but it was expected. 

Anger flickered in her eyes and disappointment shadowed her face. “You messed up really badly this time,” she said, her voice sharp.

“Thanks… That’s exactly what I needed to hear at the lowest point in my entire life,” you replied, your tone biting. It was hard to swallow her judgment despite knowing you had crossed a line. 

“No. What the actual fuck was wrong with you?” she hollered, placing her hand over her forehead in frustration as she paced around your apartment. “Why did you let that happen?”

“I don’t know. I was… I was desperate. I thought…” you trailed off, everything felt like an excuse now and you didn’t want to drag this out. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I was so stupid.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t—” She exhaled sharply. “What happened to you? Why did it have to come to this?”

You buried your face in your hands. “I don’t know.”

Mina must have sensed your frustration then, the weight of your actions pressing heavily on your chest. She sat next to you and hugged you, rubbing your back as she let you cry your heart out once again.

Later that week, Vernon asked to meet, and despite the turmoil churning in your gut, you agreed. As you sat across from him in the café, you couldn’t look him in the eyes. The quiet stretched on, both of you looking miserable, drowning in the weight of what had happened.

“I—I just wanted to say that what happened… it was a mistake,” Vernon finally said, his eyes avoiding yours. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”

His apology echoed in your mind. “It’s not just your fault, Vernon,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly. “You can blame me too. I pushed you into it. I should’ve just let you leave.”

“Still, it was me who—”

“I hope you’re okay,” you said, cutting him off. “I hope this doesn’t ruin what you have with Suji.”

“I hope so too,” he muttered, fiddling with his fingers. “I couldn't tell you I love her because we just started dating and I haven't fallen so deep in love with her yet. But I know for sure that I want things to work out with her. I like her a lot.”

His admission made your heart clench, not in pain but in relief. You were relieved to know he was serious about Suji, and that he’d try to make things work. For some reason, it gave you some sort of reassurance. It was odd because you didn’t know why you felt that way when you should be depressed over the fact that he really loved Suji and would not pick you over her despite what had happened between you.

“I wish you luck, Vernon.”

He smiled at you—one that was filled with affection, not for a lover but for a really dear friend. “Good luck to you too. I hope you find your own happiness soon.”

“You and me both,” you chimed.

You both agreed to move on properly, to face the consequences of your actions and try to find closure. As you parted ways for what felt like the final time, a heaviness settled in your chest, but it was a weight you knew you had to bear alone.

In the days that followed, you found yourself sinking into loneliness, drowning in your own thoughts. You replayed the events over and over, dissecting each moment until you could barely remember what had drawn you to Vernon in the first place. 

It was in this solitude that you realized it wasn’t Vernon that you wanted. You didn’t long for him or the comfort of his presence. You were just insecure. You wanted to prove to yourself that you were valued, loved, and that you were not inferior to anyone.  You didn't love him anymore; your ego was just bruised. The connection you thought you missed was really just a desperate need for validation, a desire to reclaim a part of yourself that you felt had been lost. 

The ache in your chest began to morph into something different—something like a resolution. You could rebuild, not just from the ashes of your mistakes but from the ashes of who you had thought you were. 

About two weeks later, you found yourself unexpectedly face-to-face with Suji at a library. As you watched her interact with children, you realized why Vernon was so taken by her. She really was amazing, not just because she was beautiful and radiant, but because she was soft-spoken, kind, and loveable. Shame washed over you, and you felt small in her presence, aware of the hurt you had caused her.

“Excuse me,” you managed to say while she was picking up the books the children had left behind. She glanced at you, eyebrows raised curiously.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “I don’t know if you know me, but there’s something I need to tell you.”

“It’s okay,” she replied briskly, a polite smile playing on her lips. But the warmth didn’t reach her eyes; instead, you saw animosity in them. “I already know. Vernon told me.”

You bit your lower lip, feeling even smaller under her unwavering gaze. “I just wanna say I’m sorry. It was my fault.”

“It is, but it was also Vernon’s. You were both foolish,” she said, still with a smile but her words were blunt.

“I’m really sorry,” you repeated, your voice a whisper. You could feel your heart pounding, desperate for her understanding. “I don't know what else to say. I have no excuse.”

“Vernon and I are trying to fix things. We both intend to make it work, despite what happened.” Her expression hardened. “And I’m going to be honest: I don’t like you. I don’t really hate you either, but I hope we never have to see each other again.”

“Suji, I—”

“If we can’t avoid it, let’s just pretend we don’t know each other. I hope you’d do me that favor.” 

You nodded, the sting of her words cutting deep. “Of course. I just want you to be happy.”

“That includes Vernon. I don’t want you around us—around him.” She stepped closer, her face was calm but you could see the pain in her eyes. “It might sound childish, but this is the only way I’ll feel at ease.”

“Vernon is a good man. He would never hurt you. I—” 

“I’m sure he wouldn’t,” she shot back, her voice steady. “But when it comes to the woman he loved so dearly in the past, I think we both know what could happen. It’s difficult, you know? To compete with the ghost of the past you and Vernon had. He may be over it now, but that didn’t mean he’d completely erased you from his life.”

You clenched your fists at your sides, trying to contain the overwhelming emotions. “I don’t wanna come between you two.”

“Do you still love him? Do you still want him back?” she pressed, her gaze unflinching.

“No. Not anymore,” you said and you were surprised because it didn’t feel like a life. In fact, it felt liberating to finally say it out loud.

“Then that’s good enough for me,” she replied, her voice softening. “Just stay away from us. Please.”

“Please forgive him,” you pleaded, desperation creeping in. “He made mistakes, but he’s still—”

“We’ll solve our own issues,” she interrupted again, her tone final. “And you’re in no position to ask me for any favors.”

You took a step back. “I know. I’m really sorry. I’m gonna… go.” 

As you turned to leave, you could feel her gaze burning into your back. You wished you could have said something more in apology, but you were content with the conversation too.

“So, here I am,” you said quietly to Seungcheol. “A promotion was offered at work and I took it. I had to pack my bags and work halfway across the country, but that was the best part of it. I was able to leave. I couldn’t stay there. I needed a reset. Far away from the life I was now too ashamed to live”

There was a long pause, the air between you feeling lighter now, as if confessing this truth had somehow eased the burden on your shoulders.

“And now?” Seungcheol asked gently. “How do you feel about it after all this time has passed?”

You thought about it for a moment, really letting yourself feel the emptiness where all that regret used to sit. But instead of pain, there was something else there now. Something calmer. Softer.

“Now?” You sighed, the answer finally clear. “Now, I think I’m ready to move on. Not from Vernon, but from everything. From needing someone else to tell me I’m enough.”

You leaned back in your chair, feeling lighter than you had in months—maybe even years. “I’m okay with being on my own now. All this time away gave me time to rediscover myself.”

Seungcheol’s smile was small but sincere. “That’s the most important thing, isn’t it?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I think it is.”

For the first time in a long time, the silence that followed didn’t feel heavy or oppressive. It felt like peace. And for the first time, you let yourself believe it. You were free. Finally, truly free.

[fin]

[wheeboo]

laundry day | hansol vernon chwe

SYNOPSIS. in which it's laundry day and you're in a bit of an embarrassing predicament. PAIRING. hansol vernon chwe x gn!reader (however, sorta implied that reader is more leaning toward fem) GENRE. fluff, humour?, best friends/roommates to lovers WARNINGS. cursing, vernon is checking reader out lowkey, reader embarrassingly wears hello kitty underwear i don't make the rules, ik vernon is mainly chill but in this they bicker <3, this was very stupid n silly lmfao WORD COUNT. 1.6k

requested from @weird-bookworm: lemme be annoying already— noni + #16 and #59 from list 1!! - #16: "You hugged me like your personal pillow." - #59: "Laundry day doesn’t mean walking around in your underwear, but for you, I’ll make an exception."

notes: i'm never good with writing humour but i thought of this stupid scenario and idk how i feel BYEE (cuz ur girl lowkey struggled on figuring out how to put #59 in the story lmao) tysm for submitting this in sky <3 and ty @bananabubble for reading it over for me!

join the 2k celebration!

You are so stupid.

So fucking stupid.

How could you let yourself get carried away in loading all your laundry that you forgot to save a pair of pants to wear in the meantime?

You replay everything in your head: your overflowing, neglected laundry basket, the utter satisfaction you felt after loading it... right up until the moment you realised every single pair of pants you own was now basically swimming around in a goddamn whirlpool, and now you're left sporting nothing but your underwear and a shirt that didn't offer much coverage than expected.

You let out an annoyed groan, burying your face into your hands and mentally slapping yourself in the face. The chill of your room sends a trail of goosebumps running up the exposed skin of your legs. There really was nothing you could do but wait for your laundry to finish.

Then your head shoots back up, and maybe your bedroom lights up a bit brighter at your metaphorical lightbulb moment, because you think of Vernon. He's the only other option you have.

Tip-toeing up to your closed door, a bit of hesitancy gnaws at you for being so dumb, before you yell out, "Vernon!"

He's probably in the living room right now𑁋you can overhear the faint music of the record player the two of you snagged at this vintage thrift store the other week. A very good and lucky find, nonetheless.

Taking another (and maybe regrettable) deep breath, you call out again, a little louder this time. "Vernon! Can you hear me?"

The music seems to dip down slightly, and after a moment, the record stops spinning, replaced by the sound of footsteps approaching the door. You brace yourself for the door to swing open to reveal the embarrassing state you're in right now, but it doesn't.

Instead, you hear Vernon's voice respond to you through the door, "Yeah?"

"Uh..." You bite your lip because you can't believe you're about to ask this. "Do you have, um... a pair of pants or shorts I can borrow? I'll give it back to you tomorrow."

For a moment you think he didn't hear you because it's completely silent on the other side of the door, and it does absolutely nothing at calming down your racing heart. You see, you probably should be fine with walking around in your underwear with Vernon because he's your best friend and roommate and he definitely would not judge at all, but it's simply not that simple𑁋

"Did you, like, spill Monster on yourself again?" Vernon asks casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world that you would do (it's happened one too many times).

"Yes, I mean, no, I mean𑁋look, just fetch me a pair and I'll bring it back to you later?"

"Uh, yeah, about that..." He pauses. "I'm wearing my only pair right now since you loaded yours first."

You really should've considered that being best friends with Vernon meant collectively sharing the brain cell of procrastinating when it comes to doing your laundry. Great, just absolutely fantastic. This was very much how you wanted your day to go. Perhaps this is why you're best friends, after all.

"Well, shit," You murmur, more to yourself but Vernon hears it anyway.

"Look, I'm sure it's not that bad, right?" Does he seriously still think you spilled Monster on yourself? "You could probably just𑁋"

You can hardly act by the time the doorknob twists and Vernon peeks his head around the door. But the second he catches sight of you, his eyes flicker over you, before he quickly averts his gaze to the Radiohead poster on your wall. Was it the lighting in your room that's making his face look pink?

You stand there awkwardly, suddenly feeling so exposed in front of him as if some sort of gigantic spotlight was shining down on you. It's not like you haven't been half-naked around each other before, but this feels different... somehow. You don't know why, or maybe you don't want to know.

A cough erupts from Vernon, breaking the sudden silence.

"Oh, wow, um..." He toys with the black hoodie around his head. "I didn't look. I swear."

His eyes dart everywhere except back to you, lingering on the Radiohead poster, the slightly askew picture frame on your desk, just anywhere but you. You don’t know whether to feel relieved or embarrassed.

"Ugh, I'm so stupid." You run a frustrated hand through your hair. "And I have this meeting for work in an hour and I know the laundry won't be done by then. I'm actually screwed."

Vernon thinks for a minute. "You can't like... virtually attend the meeting?

"No."

"Or it can't be postponed?"

"Nope."

"What if I file you as a missing person to the police?"

"You're seriously no help, dude," You say, giving him a light shove to the shoulder, but it's hard to suppress the curve to your lips and the small chuckle that leaves your mouth when you see him fall back dramatically.

Vernon snorts lightly. "Well, it's probably better than showing up to work in your Hello Kitty underwear𑁋"

"You said you didn't look, you idiot!" You exclaim furiously, and Vernon literally does not see the way a pillow practically spawns in your grasp and flinging toward him before he can even react. The pillow hits him square in the chest, causing him to stumble backward with a surprised yelp. "Oh my god, just report me missing at this point."

Vernon just laughs as he catches his breath to stand back up, grabbing the pillow up the floor and lifting it up like a shield as if to defend himself from you. Your face is burning brighter than the lava lamp glowing on your bedside table.

"This is so embarrassing," You mutter sheepishly, wanting to unleash another defeated groan again. "I can't believe I'm this stupid to forget to..."

"You're cute."

"...and then I'm probably going to get fired𑁋what?"

Vernon tosses the pillow back onto your bed and clears his throat.

"I said you're really dumb."

That is not what he said.

For a second, the disastrous situation seems to lighten up just a little bit, and your heart is doing some intense, unrhythmic tap dance against your ribs. You heard exactly what he said𑁋that he called you cute in this ungodly predicament𑁋and now he's trying to brush it off?

Vernon cracks a teasing, boyish smile. "And stupid, yeah. You're not wrong about that."

You open your mouth to retort, but the words get caught in your throat, almost like a choked sound coming out instead. So you point an interrogative finger and step closer to him (and yes, still in your underwear), eyebrows furrowing together.

"You called me cute," You state, all firm and serious now.

Vernon's playful look falters slightly, expression shifting to something a bit more guarded now. He rubs a hand at the back of his neck, that nervous habit you've always found sort of endearing throughout time. Perhaps there's a bit more meaning to it now.

The few moments of silence that follow is absolutely suffocating. You can't even tell if time is passing by quicker or slower as the two of you stand there, shifting this uncomfortable weight between both of your feet.

"Yeah," Vernon says simply, quietly. "I did."

You nearly want to laugh for some reason, but you can feel the nerves tickle up your spine. "I'm standing here in fucking Hello Kitty underwear and you think I'm cute?"

You can visibly see the way the lump in his throat tightens as he swallows, his eyes flickering uncertainly between you and the floor.

"Look you just... You caught me off-guard. Like... laundry day doesn't mean walking around in your underwear and all that," Vernon explains, in a tone like he's trying to reason with you. "but for you, I'll make an exception because𑁋"

"𑁋because I'm cute?"

"Because you're so stupidly cute from freaking out when I could just go to the store right now and buy you a pair of pants to wear." Then he sucks in a breath. "And yeah, the Hello Kitty underwear is cute, I guess."

You feign a shocked, traitorous look to your face. "You guess?! It's Hello Kitty, man."

"Dude, do you want me to snatch you some pants to wear or not? Because I'm deadass about the missing persons report," Vernon asks, half-annoyed yet somewhat half-amused. The twitch to his lips doesn't go unnoticed. And the voice of him calling you cute just minutes earlier also doesn't go unheard of too.

You wear a cringy, exaggerated pout to your lips. "Please."

Vernon's face contorts in slight disgust at that. "Please don't do that eve𑁋I'm leaving." And before you can say anything, he's turning around and leaving your room.

You hear the clinking of keys, assuming that Vernon is getting ready to leave to presumably retrieve you a pair of pants to wear for the day. You step up to your doorway to peek into the living room.

"Hey, I owe you!" You holler out to him. "Let me know how much it costs and I'll pay you back."

"No need," Vernon calls back over his shoulder.

"Come on, I'll feel bad," You insist, leaning against the doorframe. "I'll do anything, I swear."

Now that seems to intrigue him, and you watch the way Vernon slowly turns back to you, and maybe you're starting to regret ever saying that to him.

"Okay," he says lightly. "We're watching a movie tonight."

"A movie? What are we..." Then your eyes widen in realisation. "We are not watching Shrek again. I'll end up falling asleep on you because we've rewatched too much."

Vernon just shrugs. "Yeah, like last time. You hugged me like your personal pillow, remember?"

"I..." You stop yourself from responding immediately, feeling a flush creeping up your cheeks at the memory. "Fine, whatever. If I fall asleep again, you can just wake me up this time."

A low, thoughtful hum runs out of Vernon's mouth. "I mean, I really don't mind if you fall asleep, you know. If you're tired and stuff."

You blink up at him dazedly. "Really?"

"Yeah," he answers, and the corners of his lips lift up ever so slightly. "You're cute when you fall asleep on me, anyway."

another note: guys idk what i just wrote lol its like 90% dialogue n rushed HAHSADSA

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @roziesmei @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim @melodicrabbit @bewoyewo @honglynights @bananabubble @treehouse-mouse @tanya596carat @starshuas @totomoshi

[scudslut]

Ok hear me out. Reader and Daryl go on a run for supplies with a few other people. Reader makes a mistakes and almost gets seriously hurt/ near death experience. Daryl gets pissed at reader, maybe yells at her. Reader laughs it off and acts like she doesn’t gaf. Daryl later finds reader all shaken up and crying by herself. Love if you don’t, love if you do!

stay with me

daryl x fem!reader

wc: 2k

warnings: typical twd gore/violence, mentions of death, mentions of trauma/ptsd

a/n: absolutely love me some good fluffy angst, thank u nony❤️ i hope you like it:))

As much as you tried to prepare yourself for the inevitable situations runs would put you in, the blood-chilling reality of it never got any easier. No amount of mental prep could stove off the sounds and smell of the dead, nipping ravenously for a taste of your sweet living flesh.

Of course, over time you’d learned just to shut your brain off and fight. Fight as hard and tirelessly as you possibly could, but mistakes could still be made. Shit happened, whether it was your fault or not.

Hours earlier, a group of you went a few miles east of the prison; Daryl having spotted a little strip a few days prior, not too overrun that he thought might be loot-worthy.

It was a simple run really. Keep close, hit a few shops in and out, then head back home. That’s it. Follow the plan, get as much useful shit as possible, and get the fuck out of there. You guys had it down to a science at this point, runs becoming so second nature it was almost too easy to let your guard down nowadays.

“Hey D, I’m gonna go check the storage room back here. Might have something we could use,” you voiced to your partner a few isles down, still keeping your tone as low as you could.

“Gimme a sec, I'll come help ya,” you heard him say but you kept moving. You two had already cleared the main area, you could handle a walker or two if there actually was any behind the small door. You figured you would’ve heard something by now, some sort of banging or grumbling to announce their presence, but there was nothing, the coast presumably clear.

You should have waited.

Crossing the few miscellaneous isles you reached the back door, giving it a small rattle. Still complete silence, not even the faintest groan or shuffle. Knife at the ready, hand clamped over the cool metal handle, your heart rate picked up a notch as it always did before opening into the unknown.

“You got this, come on,” you muttered to yourself, before throwing the door open, bracing for attack. The door flew wide, only to reveal a dark, empty room. Squinting through the dimness, a few high, dusty shelves were visible, stocked with all sorts of canned goods. Fuck yea, that was certainly useful.

“D! Come look what I found!” you rasped, dropping your knife into its holster and shuffling in. You unslung your backpack from your shoulders, digging through it for a flashlight excitedly. It’s been so long since you’ve found this much canned food, surely enough to keep the group well stocked through most of the winter that was approaching. A loud creak from the left caught your attention as you sped forward. Hands finally finding purchase on the flashlight, you flicked it on, scanning across the room to the sound.

Dust caked the air, making the already dark room fuzzier and your eyes took a minute to adjust. You took a few smaller steps closer, peering wearily ahead and then you saw them.

Beady, soulless eyes staring back. A whole rickety staircase of them, heads turning one by one to the light source in your hand.

“Oh fuck.”

There had to be at least 10 of them that you could see, the top of the stairs pitch black and unrevealing.

Your feet stumbled backward, hands desperately reaching for the knife at your hip, dropping the flashlight in the process. It rolled and caught under your heels, knocking you on your ass as the corpses advanced, jaws snapping.

These were those moments. When you felt your heart in your throat, brain stuttering on action. Time moved so slowly that the fragments were almost visible and every thought screaming in your mind sounded like gibberish. You know you should move, is that what it was screaming?

The first one got to you, grabbing your leg trying to crawl up and finally, you were kicking, scrambling, grabbing onto the knife and slamming it into its skull with a loud squelch.

“Daryl!” you yelled. You needed him. Now.

3 more dropped before you, slinking towards you and you were trapped — the first corpse lying heavily over your midsection.

“Yea, yea girl. I heard ya,” you heard him respond, still sounding a few isles away.

No no no, this was not how you were gonna die. Not today. Please.

You kept stabbing, each kill taking everything out of you as you struggled against the body weight atop you. They just kept piling, you could hardly feel your legs anymore, the circulation surely cut off below your knees. And more were coming, a never-ending stream of hunger.

Another one landed before you and you had just enough time to catch its shoulders before it was inches away, snapping at your neck. Your arms burned, tears welling in your eyes as you realized this could be it. You didn’t know how much longer you had before they gave out and rotting teeth would be sinking into you, tearing you apart.

The walker kept snapping, so close you could see the layers of rotting flesh peeling from its face. You had been close to walkers before, had stared into the lifeless eyes too many times to count, but this was different. More were coming and the face in the reflection of its eyes was barely recognizable — terror painting every feature you’d known on you distorted.

The bones cracked in its left shoulder and it dislocated, dropping down to centimeters from your skin.

“No,” you sobbed quietly. Daryl wasn’t going to make it, you knew that. He was going to walk in and find his girl as dinner. You hoped he just booked it, and didn’t waste his time trying to save what would long be gone.

The walker fell limp in your arms and you flinched harshly, expecting excruciating pain to follow as it bit. But there was nothing.

“The fuck are ya doing! Get up!”

Daryl was suddenly right before you, ripping each body off your aching limbs and you were now acutely aware of the larger pile by the stairs, all with arrows and stab wounds littering their heads. When had he gotten in here?

You didn’t hear his words, adrenaline coursing so loudly through your system that all that could be heard was a loud, shrill ringing.

“Goddammit girl, wake the fuck up!” he shouted, grabbing you by the shoulders in an attempt to lift you. Your brain caught up then, as he harshly placed you on your feet. Walkers scattered the floor around you, and a grumble at the stairs announced it wasn’t the last of them.

Daryl reached down, grabbed your dropped items, and shoved them in your dumbstruck hands. “We’re gettin’ outta here, now,” he seethed, dragging you along and slamming the door behind you both, crossing the lines of isles quickly to the front entrance.

The fresh, afternoon air hit your nose in a gust and the last of the fuzz chipped itself from your senses slowly.

“Hope yer fuckin happy with yerself. Can’t ever listen to a goddamn word’a mine, can ya?” Daryl quipped beside you. His eyes were slits as they dug into you, so fuming you could see the heat radiating off his skin in the early autumn brisk.

He was angry at you, you knew that. But you also knew it was because he was scared. Hell, you were fucking terrified to stone back there, but if you wanted to calm him down at all, you knew you had to act unfazed.

Gathering any remaining wits about you, you took a deep inhale, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting them.”

He didn’t respond, wouldn’t even look at you anymore as he began to pace the graveled parking lot.

“Hey don’t stress Dar. I’m alive, we’re good,” you attempted to soothe further.

“Don’t stress? Yer a real piece a work, y’know that! Always fucking up everyone’s shit cause ya don’t wanna use yer brain, huh?”

Well, that did not go as you expected.

The rest of the group had started shuffling out of the other shops around you, making their way to the vehicles.

“Jeez, you need to lighten up,” you brushed past him, head high. You couldn’t let his words affect you, not with all the other emotions coursing as well. You didn’t understand what he meant. You had never put anyone other than yourself in danger, how could you possibly be fucking over everyone else?

You decided to wait in the car as the rest of the group went back for the cans, tag-teaming whatever walkers remained. The loot had decently filled both trunks and everyone was happy to call it a day and head back.

Your eyes followed Daryl as he jumped into your car, eyes trained on the windshield, “Ya alright at least?” he muttered glancing at you briefly while shifting the car into drive.

“I’m good, you big grump,” you huffed with a tight-lipped smile. “That much food will last us a long time. I believe a thank you is in order, don’t you think?”

You were not good. Not at all, but there was no reason to worry him anymore, putting him through enough today as it was. Your hands were shoved tightly under your thighs, so he couldn’t see the tremors racking through you.

You had smelt death so many times it didn’t bother you much anymore. Today you had smelt your own. Saw your life in that walker's eyes, mere seconds away from demolition. It was safe to say you were shaken to your core.

The journey back was silent, both not in the mood to chat for very different reasons, and the whole time you were trying to keep each breath of yours steady.

You helped unload as much as you could, before slipping away discreetly to your cell. You didn’t want anyone to see you like this, you felt kind of pathetic honestly. This was life now, it had been this way for a long time now, you shouldn’t be so shaken up as you were but the terror just wouldn’t leave your body.

Panic washed over you once again as your eyes hit your dim cell. Your mind was quickly slipping back into those last moments, the darkness and dust all too similar. The fear you had felt coating your veins icily and your breaths started to become agitated. There was nowhere else to go though. If you left the cell someone would see you.

Subconsciously, you backed yourself into the corner of the room, crumbling down to the floor with your head in your hands. Deep down you hoped your hyperventilating would knock you out. You didn’t want to think anymore — see it anymore. Tears were burning the back of your throat as you held down sobs, feeling the walker's hands and weight atop of you all again.

A small yelp escaped you when the hands became real. Pressure on your shoulders and waist and your head snapped up from its hiding spot, reflexes already prepared to fight whatever presence was with you.

“It’s jus’ me, hey, hey,” you heard through your panic, his blue eyes just recognizable through blurry tears. “S’okay, relax.”

You couldn’t calm down this time, vicious sobs finally breaking their way out of your frame. Running was your first thought; you didn’t want anyone to see you like this, Daryl or not. Emotions were never a strong suit of yours and would always find yourself dealing with them in private, away from sympathetic words and pitying eyes. But Daryl was never like that, he drew you in and held you tight, uttering no more words other than the ones to confirm it was him. If you asked him to say more, he would, but he knew this was what you needed. Someone to ground you back onto Earth and out of whatever images tormented your head.

So that’s what he did. Held you for hours as your body expelled all its terror and lingering adrenaline. He’d give quiet coos through each wave of shakes, grabbing a blanket to warm you through the cold sweats. And finally, once the fear faded to exhaustion, he scooped you up off the stiff concrete and into your soft cot.

“Stay with me?” you rasped, throat parched and raw from crying.

It wasn’t a second thought for him. He was never truly angry with you, and he knew you knew that. He needed you safe with him.

“Always.”

[cynical-ghost]

Kimi Raikkonen with wife reader. He had a great race until it went down. He was involved in the crash and she was worried because she wanted to tell him she was pregnant that day. You decide how it ended. Angst but fluff in the end. Thanks!! :))

HEART OF FIRE

Synopsis: The race was going good until the car burst into flames…

Pairing: Kimi Raikkonen x wife!reader

Genre: Smau- social media, One shot, angst and comfort

A/n: hope you like it nony🫶 sorry it took a while to come out. Not proofread.

vitun helvetti = Fucking Hell

F1_updates

Liked by Kiminumber1, dramapaddok, gossip_grid and 678,984 others

F1_updates Kimi Raikkonens car rolled before bursting into flames, we are still waiting to see if Kimi gets out of the car. Please stand by in these tense times and pray for Kimi and his family.

Gossip_grid We here at gossip grid are sending wishes to Kimi and his family 🫶

Kiminumber1 Has he gotten out of the car yet?? They aren’t showing it on tv!!

User15 I’m at the race, apparently there is no sign of him yet, some people with kids are starting to get up and leave so it does look to good rn.

Kiminumber1 Oh shit!!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It was as if your feet were stapled to the concrete of the garage as you watched Kimi’s car roll to a stop.

When the flames began to engulf the crumpled structure it was as if everything froze in place, only the shallow sounds of your heavy breathing and the deafening ringing in your ears were the only sounds you could make out among the chaos of the surrounding people.

Your eyes were glued to the monitor, hopping and praying that the man you had planned your future with would climb out of the wreckage. One of your hands laying flat on the slight bump of your stomach.

If he didn’t survive this horrific crash he won’t know he was going to be a farther.

He wouldn’t be able to watch as the bump in your stomach became bigger as your baby grew.

He wouldn’t be able to hold the tiny bundle that had your nose and his eyes as she came into this world.

The terrifying world that would have taken your baby’s farther away.

As her first words turned into asks of were her dada was, and her first steps became her bubbly skip into the school gates, you would have to do it all alone.

The one person who deserved to be by your side, now sunken six foot into the green soil your daughter would sit on and make daisy chains with the flowers growing on the now flat grave.

The smell of petrol fading into a faint memory as you wouldn’t know where to start in teaching your daughter to kart.

As her tears of grief for a father she never knew turned into tears of heartbreak from her first boyfriend,

She would never know her father, only the story’s from those around her to tell her about the man she missed out on.

Black dresses now unshadowed to white as the young woman walked down the aisle of the church, her mother holding onto her arm instead of a man with blond hair and icy blue eyes.

Grasping tightly onto two hands held out standing at the-

“vitun helvetti” the crackle of the familiar voice sounded around the paddock.

-makeshift alter of toilet paper and freshly picked daisies.

Laughter of the young girl bounced off of the teddy bear crowed, the deep chuckle of then man who’s hands she held mixing with hers.

Bedtime stories of a famous race car driver whispered in a langue different from your own causing your daughter’s lashes to flutter shut as she drifted off to sleep.

Stifled sobs of heartbreak turned mischievous laughter as the man clipped her helmet together under her chin.

The smell of Petrol burned your nose as you watched your daughter fly around the race track in a formula two car from the comfort of your husband’s arms.

‘vitun helvetti’ the words that saved your world from crashing down.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Lillia_Raikkonen

Liked by Ynforeal, lilliasbff, futuref2driver and 578,956 others

Lillia_Raikkonen Great race today! P1 baby!!! 🍾🙌

[miguelhugger2099]

Hello! I’m not exactly sure if you’re taking requests right now but if you’re not then you can just ignore this lol

Would you be comfortable with doing a fem reader x subby miguel? Maybe he’s tired from all his work or he’s just willing to try out whatever she wants, but if you could make him very easily flustered by the reader too i think it would be super cute haha. Also maybe if you could add a lot of body worship? (Reader worshiping Miguel’s body lol, praising him and telling him how handsome/gorgeous he is, etc.)

I’m in love with your writing and your first smut that you wrote was SO good I knew I had to make a request. Your writing is honestly so good and I love how you write miguel!! 🫶🫶🫶

Melting

hehe this ask is super cute !! of course im comfortable w it i’d kiss the ground he walks on if i could !!!! Miguelito deserves so much love and relaxation <3 thank you thank you soso much for the kind words <3333 giggling and twirling my hair i was so sure i’d get clowned in the comments LMFAO but i’m so happy people really liked my first smut haha Thank you for the ask nonie ml and i really tried with this one </3 Sub!Miguel x Fem!Reader, Smut, Word Count: 4,451 And yes my requests are open ! c:

You often saw Miguel cramped in his home office, slouched in his chair as he gazed at the dimmed yellow monitors. If he wasn’t out doing his part as Spider-Man, he was home reviewing and watching the multiverse for hours and hours on end. You felt helpless watching him work to exhaustion and to a point where you had to help his half-asleep form back to bed with you.

At first, you tried to alleviate that stress by making him food. You’d make his favorites and freshly made too so you could then pop by his office or HQ to deliver it with a warm smile.

“Gracias, preciosa.” He’d murmur against your temple after giving it a small kiss. You beamed up at him and your chest swelled hearing the slight relaxed tone in his voice. Miguel tucked your hair back and gave you a small smile of his own, the yellow hue of the monitors enhanced the eyebags and tired look on his face. You’d offer to stay with him but he’d always refuse.

“Go home, mami. It’s nothing you should concern yourself about.” He placed the containers down on a nearby counter.

“I just wanna help, Miggy.” You frowned, reaching up to cup his face. Miguel felt his heart flutter from your touch and he pushed down the feeling of heat crawling up his cheeks.

He took your hands off his face, choosing to hold them in his own hands. “I know you do, mama, but I’ve got it. I can handle this. I’m used to it.” He tried reassuring you, squeezing your hand.

You squeezed back. “Just because you’re used to it, doesn’t make it right,” You protested and Miguel chuckled. “Let me help.” You offered again.

“No, I’ll be home tonight.” He let go of your hands and gently ushered you out. You let him with a pout on your face and before you two went your separate ways, you faced him.

“I love you.” You whisper. Miguel’s face melts into a gentle look, his hand tilting your chin up.

“Te quiero más que nada.” He leans down to peck your lips, lingering for a little while longer and then sending you on your way.

The next thing you tried was to be as cuddly as possible. Despite Miguel’s brooding persona and bulky frame, he was really just a softie inside. He’d never admit it or even show a glimpse of that side to anyone else, but when he came home weary and sleepy, his guard would drop tenfold after seeing you.

So here he was, trudging along inside the penthouse and dumping his body on your shared bed. You watched with a little bit of amusement and concern as Miguel took a deep breath and loudly sighed. You placed your holopad down and ran your fingers through his hair, making him moan in delight and lean into your touch. You tucked your legs underneath you and helped Miguel place his head on your lap. His arms wrapped around your waist and he nuzzled closer to your stomach.

“Rough day?” You asked gently. Miguel managed to grunt in response, his hands running under your shirt to feel more of your skin. You turned his head to the side and caressed his cheek with your finger. Your other hand still combed through his wavy locks, carefully detangling the strands and finding more gray hairs. “Pobrecito.” You cooed. Your fingernails scratched his scalp and you felt his breathing gradually slow down. You smiled down at him with his eyes closed, the stress lines on his forehead and eyebrows had lifted up which made him look more peaceful.

Miguel woke up with a start, his eyes opening suddenly and groaning as he got up from your lap. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and face. “Sorry, mami, I didn’t mean to, uh…sleep on you.” He sighed. You placed your hands on his forearms.

“No, no, no disculpes,” You shake your head with a worried tone. You reached up to help push back the strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead. “You’re tired. Come sleep, baby.” You tugged on his hand but Miguel shook his head.

“No, you’ve done more than enough. I have to get back to work.” He mumbled, bringing you in his arms and kissing the crown of your head. He left another kiss to both your cheeks and finally to your lips. Before you could convince him to stay, he got up from the bed and his mask phased around his head, making his way out the window to start late night patrol.

You watched his retreating figure swing out the window with his webs and you felt your heart sink to your stomach. Miguel worked too hard and too much. He was going to stretch himself thin at this rate.

So, you decided enough was enough. You were going to help Miguel relax whether he liked it or not.

Like usual, Miguel came home with heavy footsteps, yawning as he entered the bedroom. You watched as his suit materialized off of him and left him just in his boxers. He greeted you with a kiss to your temple. “I’m home, bebé.” He murmured before he sat at the edge of the bed, resting his hands on his knees and stretching side to side. He turned his back and you both heard a small pop from cracking it. Miguel groaned and rubbed the back of his neck and his shoulders.

You approached behind him, placing your hands on the sides of his arms. You kissed the back of his neck which made him shiver. “Tense?” You asked.

Miguel tried shaking his head, not wanting to bother you. “No, no, I’m okay.” But your hands continued to roam, sliding up his shoulders. You applied slight pressure where you felt a knot and Miguel moaned, his head hanging.

You smiled. “Mhm, yeah sure,” You teased. You leaned over him and kissed his cheek and you saw Miguel with his eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed–embarrassed at being caught red handed. “You work so hard, baby. Let me take care of it tonight, hm?” You pressed another kiss to his ear, feeling a bit of heat radiating off it. The palm of your hand dug into a knot again and Miguel groaned.

With his cheeks a little flushed, he nodded. “Okay, okay…Fine.” In that moment, you began roaming your hands around his back, riding them up onto his shoulders and he visibly relaxed in your arms. You kept at that motion, just innocently massaging him and kneading out the tense muscles from his poor worn out body. Miguels’s eyes stayed closed with the occasional groan and hiss when you successfully eased that tension.

After finishing on the top, you trailed down the curve of his waist, which Miguel stiffened at. You glanced up and saw the tips of his ears darken. “So pretty.” You murmured. Your thumbs rubbed and dug into his skin in a caressing motion at his waist while you pressed a kiss at the back of his jawline. Miguel ever so quietly, let out a small whimper and the two of you stopped moving.

“Did you–”

“Thank you, mami, but that’s enough.” He spoke over you, turning his head away to hide his burning cheeks. He stayed facing away from you, preparing to get under the covers while you sat still and processed.

Before he could get under the covers, you stopped him by grabbing his arm. “Miguel, no, it’s okay! I wasn’t expecting it is all–”

You pulled his arms back to make him turn around and face you. The words on your lips cutting off when you scanned his dark red cheeks. It was hard to tell with only the moon as a source of light and his naturally tanned skin, but you saw just enough of the red hue across his face and the way his eyes still turned to the side to not meet yours. Your brows furrowed in confusion on why he was so embarrassed when you took a double take at the bulge growing in his boxers.

“Miguel–”

“Amor, can we just please go to sleep–”

“Miguel–”

“We don’t need to do anything and it’s late. We’re both tired, so–”

“Miguel.” You said firmly, taking his face in your hands and forcing him to look at you. Miguel pursed his pouty lips, his eyes barely containing his embarrassment as he glanced down at you.

You held his flushed gaze with your firm one. “Let me take care of you tonight.” Miguel’s lips parted slightly, feeling small under your intense gaze that slowly gained desire in them. He let out a shaky breath, his heart pounding in his chest before nodding.

His hands lifted up and were about to grab your waist before you stopped him again, your hands falling from his face.

“Tonight’s about you, Miguel.” You placed your hands on his chest and his mouth shut closed, gulping nervously.

He nodded wordlessly again, letting you take control and pushing him gently on his back into the soft pillows. Miguel stared up at you as you climbed on top of him, a goddess in the flesh, and his heart pounded loudly. The blood flowed through his body to make him hot and straight down to his groin where his cock strained against the fabric.

You leaned over him, capturing his lips with yours and he sighed against your cheeks, his hands immediately finding the flesh of your waist and gripping tightly. Your hands made quick work to roam his body, feeling the ridges of his pecs and down to his abs. He moaned softly, tight stomach tensing when your feathery touch grazed his skin. You heard Miguel whimper when you continued to feel his stomach, feeling the very small pudge of skin that he had started to gain after not being to work out as often.

You separated your lips from his and he subconsciously reached for you again. Miguel’s eyes opened with a desired haze to them even as you began to kiss down his neck and collarbone. He tilted his head up, feeling your soft lips brush against his hot skin and you could just barely hear the beating of his heart. He gripped your waist tighter, holding onto you for a sense of reality.

“Such a gorgeous body. All mine.” You mumbled against him. Miguel shivered, his heart stuttering in his chest. Your teeth gently bit into his neck, suckling and licking to give him a pretty purple mark. Miguel gasped before shutting his mouth shut to hinder his moans, but his legs shook and he bucked his hips up to your core.

Giving into his neediness, you grinded down on his cock, the two of you moaning at the friction that only fueled the fire. “You’ll let me love such a pretty man like you, hm?” You kissed his ear and then moved downwards again, your breath grazing over his nipples which made him whine.

“Haah, yes, yes, please…” He huffed, stumbling over his words and murmured your name like a prayer as he felt you leave hot kisses down his body.

You gently pulled down his boxers, watching his cock spring up and leak a bead of pre-cum over his tip. You lips kissed his tip which made Miguel whine and stiffen, his hands itching to push your head down but he was just too embarrassed still. You used your hand to grasp him and give an experimental stroke.

“Ay, Dios…” He choked out, arching his back and gripping the sheets tightly in his fists. “Wait, wait, wait…” He whined, writhing beneath you but you only shushed him by kissing his abdomen. Miguel’s body was already shaking and sweating, hot and bothered by a simple touch of your hand.

“What? What is it, baby?” You purred and began stroking him up and down slowly. His eyes rolled back, bucking his hips in time with the pumps and he moaned your name. Miguel's talons ripped through the fabric while he lolled his head to the side and breathed heavily. His fangs dug into his bottom lip, piercing the skin and a dribble of blood leaked out which he lapped up with his tongue. “Do you like it when I touch you like this? Do you want it faster?” You sped up a notch which made him choke. “Harder?” You teased, twisting your hand and made Miguel jolt with pleasure.

“Fuck, mami…” Miguel whimpered, thrusting into your hand with a desperate plea for more. He swung his arm over his eyes with his head tilted back and his mouth parted open. His plump lips quivering with each breath he took.

His squirming and whining made your eyes light up, a rush of heat running straight to your cunt when he called you mami oh so sweetly. “I love the sounds you make.” You praised. “The way you throb in my hand, the way I can tell that pretty mouth of you wants to moan louder.”

Miguel quickly shut his mouth, blushing darker and keeping his arm over his eyes, hoping you wouldn’t see how close he was to cumming so soon. He knew he couldn’t hide for long, you had him in the palm of your hand, literally and figuratively. You tutted softly, stopping your movement which Miguel gasped at the loss of it and losing the bubbling ecstasy. “Move your eyes, amor. I want to see you.”

He inhaled and exhaled a few weak breaths before lowering his arm down at his side. You gleamed up at him when your eyes met his scarlet eyes accompanied with the same delicious color on his cheeks. His eyes darted around your face, slightly unfocused and still very much aroused.

“Hi, beautiful.” You smiled and leaned up to kiss him which he reciprocated with quivering lips. When you pulled away, he smiled up at you bashfully.

“Hi.” He whispered back, his heart swelling with love for you.

You kissed his cheek once and then moved back down to face his painfully hard cock. You glanced up at him and Miguel felt his heart skip a beat at the eye contact.

“Keep your eyes on me, okay?” You held his thighs and felt the smoothness of his skin. Miguel nodded, though he knew you didn’t really have to ask since he was already bewitched by you.

You lowered your head and gave a small kitten lick to the slit on his tip and licked up the dribble of precum that had fallen down his shaft. He hissed and forced himself still to not fuck your mouth immediately. His legs spread further apart and gave you more access to his needy cock that twitched with every small lick of your tongue.

He watched as you wrapped your lips around his tip and sucked softly, Miguel’s hand finding your hair and gripping the strands tightly. He groaned and began panting heavily. “Shit, shit…”

You flattened your tongue under him and slid more of his inches in your warm, wet mouth, careful to properly take him down your throat.

“Fuck!” He cried out when his tip bumped against the back of your throat. His thighs tenses up and nearly squeezed your head between his legs. The saliva building up in your mouth coated his cock and ensued a lewd and erotic sound of slurping and sucking. Miguel, barely holding onto his sanity, yanked your hair by accident and he spewed mumbles of apologies before being cut off by his own sounds of pleasure.

You didn’t mind the pain. It only sent a wave of pleasure through your body and you felt yourself become wetter by the second. You could get off just by his cute moans and whimpers, succumbing to your mouth and tongue. You bobbed your head up and down with his hand helping you, occasionally taking all of him with your nose pressed up against the tuft of pubes which made Miguel sob and thrust into your eager mouth. “Please, please, please…!” He cried.

You moaned around him, your tongue swirling and tasting his musk and precum, your own hips wiggling around to feel something but you had enough sense to focus on Miguel’s pleasure first and foremost. His pleasure was your pleasure. Your hands felt up and down his waist, feeling the curve of it before going back to his meaty thighs. Your moans were added as vibrations to his cock and Miguel squirmed, his eyes glassy and his mouth continued to beg and plead.

“Más, mami, porfa–Oh, god,” He groaned, shuddering when your nails raked across his inner thighs. He felt his balls tighten up and his cock twitching in your mouth, almost reaching his peak. Your nails then dug into his skin, making sure Miguel wouldn’t pull you off. “Fuck, i’m so close–I’m gonna cum..” He choked out. His hand in your hair tried to tug you off but you held your ground. Your mouth continues to work, wet slurping and sucking loudly with his throbbing dick coated in a mix of his cum and your spit. Miguel took a hesitant look down at the erotic scene of your pretty face and wide eyes looking up at him while you slobbered over his thick length made him burst the bubble in his stomach.

Miguel let out a loud groan, bucking his hips up further in your mouth, his tip pressing the back of your mouth and spurting his hot strings of cum. He stilled in your mouth, twitching as a few more final ropes shot down your throat and his heart beating loudly in his ears. He pushed your head down as you swallowed as much as you could and the amount you couldn’t, dribbled out from the corner of your lips and down on his shaft and thighs. His face scrunched up and then his eyes rolled back when he felt you suckling the rest of his essence he had to offer. “S-stop…” He whined.

Instead of stopping, you gulped the rest of him down and licked him clean, sliding off him with a wet pop. You licked your lips and kissed his softening cock and watched him slowly come down from the clouds. Miguel’s body laid limp against the pillows, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths and sweat glistening his perfect body. He blinked slowly, his eyes gazing up at the ceiling in a daze. When he gained a bit of his mind back, he screwed his eyes shut and covered his face with his hands. His post-coital clarity made him feel extremely embarrassed at how lost he got in it, cumming in your mouth like that. He felt his cheeks burn, the heat of it prickling the nerves in his system.

Miguel felt your hands move his from his face. He only became more flustered seeing the dribble of his white cream by your chin and your teasing smile. “You look so perfect when you cum, baby.” You purred.

Miguel turned away, his eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t say things like that..” He mumbled but you knew his heart skipped a beat whenever you spoke so fondly of him.

“Don’t be like that,” You pouted, tilting your head. Your fingernails grazed across his chest leaving goosebumps in your wake. “You know I could never get enough of you,” You felt around his warm skin, tilting his chin to face you again. “I can’t help but want more when you look so cute.” Miguel didn’t respond but it was just because he was holding back another whimper but he felt his cock twitch from your words. He gulped and your grin widened, crawling in his lap.

With you on top of him, even though you have been so kind and sweet to him this whole night, he always thought you were more beautiful than anything he had ever seen. So he let your hands wander after straddling him again. “God, you’re perfect.” You whispered, your hand resting on his chest, tracing the scars scattered across him. Miguel held onto your waist again, gently guiding your clothed pussy over his growing erection. Your praise was music to his ears even if he couldn’t admit it with words. He found joy in knowing you desired him and craved him especially with how you never seemed to stop touching his muscles and chest.

You lifted your bottom up to slip your panties off, Miguel watching as you tossed it to the side. You lifted your tank top off and revealed your breasts to him, his pupils blown wide. His hand lifted up your body and cupped one in his palm, squeezing it gently. His thumb swiped across your perked nipples and you moaned softly, arching further into his touch. Your sweet sounds of pleasure made blood rush straight to his dick and he let go of your tit to cup the back of your head and bring you down for a passionate kiss.

You both moaned into the kiss, both of you also grinding on each other, his cock slipping between your folds and coating himself with your wetness. “I love you.” You mumbled against his lips. Miguel wrapped his arms around your back and pulled you closer, his tongue slipping through your mouth to find yours.

“I love you.” He groaned back. In the midst of all this, he helped you sink down on his now hard cock. You mewled when his fat tip split you in half, sliding into your warm, velvety walls. Miguel whined and separated from your lips to dig his fangs into your neck. You squealed and clutched onto his shoulders tightly while he continued to stuff you full with his girth.

“Fuck, yes…” You moaned, finally feeling him inside you and stretching you to fit all of him. You wasted no time in moving your hips and grinding your clit on him. Miguel took his fangs out of your neck, gently sucking and licking the spot he had bit you as little apologies for causing you pain. But you were blinded with lust, pushing yourself up with your new freedom to press your hands on his chest as leverage while you bounced on him.

Miguel grit his teeth and his talons pricked your skin when he grabbed your hips. His mind became jelly once more, even worse with your tight cunt wrapped around him so snugly. He bucked his hips up to meet your bouncing and made your tits jiggle with every thrust. He couldn’t help but reach up again and play with your nipples, tweaking them and pulling on them. You arched your back and clenched around him, another gush of pleasure coating his already drenched cock. You hung your head, strays of your hair sticking to your face from sweat while the wet slapping of skin reverberates around the bedroom.

“You feel so good, god–Miguel…” You moaned, raking your nails down his chest, cupping his slim waist. Miguel whimpered, becoming putty underneath you while you slammed yourself onto him. “Perfect body, perfect lips, perfect cock–ah!” You choked out, your voice shaking as you succumbed to the feeling of desire.

Miguel’s face scrunched up in pleasure, huffing and sobbing as he chased that same high he had when you were taking his entire length down your throat. The image reappearing in his mind and his cock twitched violently inside you, smacking up against that sensitive spot that had you seeing stars.

“I’m gonna cum again, mama…” He slurred. He should’ve expected this. He was still so sensitive after you gave him a blowjob. You just looked so good, he wanted to be inside you–embarrassingly desperate as it was. He felt tears prick his eyes, whether from lust or shame he didn’t know. “You just feel so good.” He tilted his head to the side and back against the pillow, his eyes shut as he focused on the way you clenched so perfectly around him–your pussy stretched to the perfect size of his dick.

“It’s okay, baby, I know, I know,” You whined through the sounds of lewd squelching between your bodies. You leaned over him again, your breasts pressing and rubbing against his chest while you rode him faster which made Miguel clutch at your back. His large arms surrounded you while pathetically thrusting up into you even while his hips stuttered every moment. Your hands curled through his hair and you rested your forehead on his, half-lidded eyes watching him chase his pleasure.

“C’mon, cum. I can feel you, you’re so close, yeah? It’s okay baby, let go. I’m right here, pretty boy.” You panted and Miguel’s back arched up at the pet name, finally blowing his load into you. You couldn’t tell whether his nails or talons scratched your back but you welcomed it all the same, grinding on him to prolong his orgasm and reach yours. Miguel sobbed your name while he was pumping the rest of himself in you, your pussy clamping down on him as you came with a squeal. He was an absolute mess, sweating, heaving and shaking while you convulsed around him and milked him dry.

You fell on top of him and your bodies relaxed again with his hands weakly on your hips and your hands around his head. You buried yourself in the crook of his neck, blinking at the purple and red marks you planted on his skin. Eventually your breathing slowed down enough to speak again. You lifted your head up slightly to see Miguel’s eyes were still shut but his mouth was still open and regaining stability.

“Are you relaxed?” You huffed. Miguel barely opened his eyes to glide his eyes towards you. The flushed color on his face was returning back to his normal color slowly and he swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing in motion.

“More than relaxed, Christ.” He groaned, his eyes closing again for a moment before turning to look at you again. “Thank you…for that…” He mumbled.

You smiled. “Of course. I said I’d take care of you.” You nuzzled against his cheek and he nodded.

“Yeah… Yeah, I know. That too but also that, um…” He hesitated. “The nice things you said…during…it…” He looked away, the red color returning to his cheeks. You stood up on your elbow with a growing grin.

“What? You mean when I said your body’s perfect? Or when I call you pretty? Or maybe when I tell you I’m glad you’re mine.” You leaned in closer while Miguel leaned back trying to turn away from your teasing, but you knew better.

Especially when you felt him twitching inside you.

A/N: im really nervous about this one i dont think i did that well

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

Noni !!!! ♡

Help! Staaap me ! I'm having ideas aaaa, I don't write well, but the muses gave me this, and I need to torment someone with it ! Lucky you !!

Here was I doing the dishes and daydreaming about a certain blonde sorcerer, and I'm giving you the idea/prompt/ idk what this is, but maybe it.could turn into a story in your dexterous hands. Hehehohoho

Your husband Nanami Kento wakes up and you're not there, he hears you the kitchen making Saturday morning lazy day off work breakfast.

He wakes up hit and bothered and go the kitchen to tempt you, he's in grey sweatpants, you are wearing his white t-shirt. In a soft gruff morning voice, you're in the sink washing some fruits, he kisses the nape of your neck, talking smoothly into your ear, you can feel his "discomfort" pressed up into your back, he carries you, coax you back to bed, kisses wherever he can. You continue carrying on with your duty, playing vou, until his slips a finger into your panties, starts toying with you and then your done for it, breakfast forgotten, he carried you back to bed and sweet, spicy love making morning time. 🔥🥵💀❤️‍🔥

Sends you a hug and well wishes ! I'm gonna rot in hell with all these ideas.

Tags/warnings: MDNI 18+, P in V, Cunnilingus, BJ's Domestic, Established relaationship, Soft Nanami Kento, mention of washing dishes and 1 mention of kidnapping (there is no kidnapping Nanami is just anxiety ball) FLUFF, smut, idk what else.

A/N: Here it is. Im sorry it took me so long to write this i mean i really put the pro in procrastination...

A sudden clang of metal jolted Nanami Kento out of bed. Immediately, his arm reached out to his right-– empty. The messy bed and askew pillow suggested someone may have lain there, but the lack of warmth that reached the blonde's fingers suggested that the one he looked for had left long before he arose. 

Nanami swung his legs off the side of the bed and, picking up his grey sweatpants off the floor but not quite bothering with his slippers, cautiously made his way out of the room toward the offending noise. His hand balled up in a fist, ready to attack whatever intruder there may have been awaiting and, of course, to defend the love of his life: you. 

But what met Nanami's eyes instead was the most breathtaking sight he had ever seen…

In the soft golden glow of the gentle morning sun, you stood— illuminated. 

Your hair was still messy from it being smushed against the pillow. You wore his white tee-shirt, which strained against your hips, tummy, and chest wrapping you in a secure embrace. And on your feet were your fluffy, bunny bedroom slippers. His tee-shirt barely covered your ass which Nanami quickly realised was bare underneath, when you lifted your arms, trying to reach a higher shelf. You were washing dishes…washing dishes… the clang. Nanami quickly put two and two together and smiled. There was no danger after all – save that of his breath loss.

He silently crept up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Good morning, beloved.” 

You jumped, dropping the bowl you'd been sleepily scrubbing, replicating the sound that woke Nanami from his dreams. “Christ, Ken…you scared the shit out of me.” 

The man behind you chuckled. He dipped his head to rest in the crook of your neck starting to kiss your skin softly. The smell of the bed still lingered on your body, warm and sweet. 

“We'll, we're even now. For a moment I thought you were being kidnapped and were putting up quite a fight.” 

“What—what do you mean?”

“A loud clang woke me up.” 

Silence fell as you stood trying to process the reason, during which time Nanami's nose grazed against your skin trailing down, inhaling your sweet scent. 

“Did you know how much you smell like something terribly edible in the mornings?” He nipped at you. 

“Ken…” you whispered, “It's early, Ken.”

“Mmm.”

“We forsook the dishes last night already. I really want to finish up.”

“Well, I'm not stopping you, am I?” 

You sighed and tentatively resumed the slow scrubbing of the bowl you had dropped earlier. 

Nanami dropped his hands from your waist to the hem of his tee shirt on you. You felt the fabric creep up the swell of your ass. 

“Kento-o-o,” you warned. 

“Go on. You're still able to wash the dishes.”

The lips on your neck burned,  sucking and licking at the thin skin. A wanton moan sounded somewhere, and with a blush, you realised it was you. 

Nanami chuckled. “That’s my girl.” 

“Nanami Kento, you really are incorrigible,” You turned around to kiss him. 

“Can you blame me? When I walked in here to find you looking like everything I ever dreamed of?” Your noses touched, and Nanami pushed his hips against yours. Suddenly the room felt hotter than before. “Do you see what you do to me…”

You could feel the growing bulge in his sweatpants. It strained against the fabric reaching out, needing touch. 

Nanami flipped you around so he could face your back and ground against your ass. His hands reached up to cup your breasts pulling you into him so he could whisper in your ear.

“Let's play a game, let's see if I can make you come before you can finish washing up. If you finish washing first, you win and I'll buy lunch for us today. If I make you come, well, you're buying.” 

Your lover's fingers found your slit. Expertly delving into the folds, he toyed with the bundle of nerves between. You were playing a losing game. The events of the night before were still fresh in your muscle memory and with the lightest touch your libido had been awoken again, remembering the touches from a few hours ago. 

Trying and struggling to pick up a plate and the sponge, you quickly realised your grip was lacking. Kento kissed your neck again, this time with the intention of leaving marks. His semi-hard cock prodded at your back and the thought of him lifting you onto the kitchen counter flashed in your mind. 

“You seem to have lost some soap darling,” Nanami said without missing a beat. You looked down at your hand, curled up in a fist, squeezing the once-pregnant sponge for all it was worth. “Now wouldn't it be something if I could make you come on just my fingers…” 

“Ken…this isn't fair,” you whined. 

“Oh is that so, would you like me to stop then?” 

You shook your head vigorously. 

“That's what I thought.” 

Keeping his fingers at your clit, Nanami kneeled down and used his other hand, and shoulders, to spread your legs apart. The tight tee-shirt rolled up your ass, exposing it to the cold morning air and you felt goosebumps rise. He spread your asscheeks and dipped his face right in, replacing his fingers with his tongue. You were already dripping. It wouldn't take long. 

The dishes lay untouched. Your knuckles were white from squeezing the sponge, and here you were, just seconds away from coming all over your lover's face.

Anticipating the release, Nanami hummed against your pussy and in his signature baritone commanded, “Come for me.” 

His lips wrapped around your throbbing clit sucking on the nub. Your legs gave way and immediately his hands caught hold of your waist. 

“Fuck– haa– coming, Ken–” 

Your thighs quivered and your orgasm came shattering through and you held the countertop for support as Nanami helped you ride out your high, licking you with slow broad stripes. When you slowly came down from it he withdrew, getting to his feet. 

“Guess I won that round.” 

You did not complain when he took your hands and led you away to the bedroom. The tee shirt was the first to come off. With it, he wiped away any remaining soap suds on your arms. He sat you down on the bed, your legs still unsteady, and you took the opportunity to grab the waistband of his sweatpants. 

“Sweetheart, you don't have to…” 

You shushed him. “I want to, please?” You said, looking up at him with big eyes. 

Nanami nodded. 

You tugged the fabric down, letting his cock spring free. 

Smiling at him, half disbelieving you remarked, “It's like we barely touched each other last night, look at you Min-min…” 

Nanami stroked your head. “It's the effect you have on me, Princess. You turn me on, so fucking much…” 

Your tongue licked a long stripe up his length, while you kept your eyes locked on him. “I could say the same about you, you know.”

Nanami closed his eyes and tilted his head back, the grip on your hair tightened. 

“Really? In that case, I'd suggest we keep doing that for each other for the rest of our lives.” 

You took the head in your mouth and bobbed up and down on it, letting him fill you. Although he allowed you to go at your own pace his hand never left your head, gently stroking your soft hair. With one hand you wrapped the base of his cock where your mouth couldn't reach and pumped him in time to the movements of your head. 

As it was always, Nanami's size was not easy. No matter how many times you took him in your mouth, you would dribble and drool, trying to fit more. Fortunately, this served to only spur the man on, and he gently thrust into your mouth – careful not to hurt you. 

It was evident you were not the only one still raw from the night before. Quiet grunts and deep growls, in the company of sharp hisses, as your tongue found its way around his cock head, told you that despite looking composed, Nanami was as desperate as you felt yourself to be. The wetness between your thighs only increased as you sucked his cock – turned on by not only what you were doing for him but also what you were doing to him.

A sudden loud hiss and Nanami grunted, “Shit, babe, get off!”

Losing yourself in the feeling of his cock in your mouth you failed to notice how Nanami's balls had tightened, ready to unload. You released him with a pop but continued stroking. “Come in my mouth,” You felt a twitch under your fingers but continued your gentle movement. 

“No, not your mouth, need to – feel—”

He pushed you down to the bed without waiting for a response. You smirked, and spread your legs. 

“Look at you, so desperate for this pussy. If only people knew how the great Nanami Kento could be made to kneel so easily.” 

Nanami blushed, lining his cock up with your entrance. His hands fondled your breasts lightly flicking the hardened nipples. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as he pushed past the small opening, stretching you out onto his cock.

“I could– say the same– about you, my love,” Nanami parroted your earlier statement. 

He bottomed out easier than usual, filling you to the brim. Your hands found purchase in his hair – tugging gently and you pulled his head to yours, meeting his mouth in a rough, sloppy kiss. He pinched your nipples just as you slipped your tongue in his mouth and swallowed the filthy moan that dripped from your lips. 

Kisses coupled with well-timed thrusts had you at the edge well enough, but Nanami was far ahead of you. Desperate to have you come around his cock again he searched the bed for the small vibrator that had been discarded among the rumpled sheets the night before. Not once did he stop fucking into you, searching only with the sense of touch and, when he finally came by it, wasted no time in switching it on and laying it on your clit.

The effect was almost instantaneous. Your hips bucked upwards as blasphemous prayers dripped from your swollen lips. He grabbed hold of you, easily lifting your body into an embrace feeling the strong vibrations run up his cock as well. His thrusts grew faster and rougher with each passing minute.

“Hnng– fuck, I'm going to come, baby,” he growled. 

Your fingers carded at his hair and you pulled his even closed faces just inches apart as you looked into his eyes and cried, “C- come for me then. Right– right now. With me!”

Nanami let go with a guttural groan spilling inside you, at the same time you felt your climax wash over you. Your pussy held Nanami in a vice-like grip pulsing and throbbing as he emptied into you and you gushed onto him. The vibrator fell to the bed, once again lost among the sheets but you couldn't care less. Nanami was kissing you, like it was the first time he'd ever kissed you. Lips, teeth, hands, you were pulled into him as he devoured you. 

The high gradually faded. You laid your head on Nanami's arm leaving small kisses along his skin – wherever you could reach. He smiled down at you. 

“I meant it you know, let's actually keep turning each other on for our whole lives…”

You looked up at him, your heart full. “Nanami Kento, as much as I love you, I'm not accepting that proposal. You have to get me a ring.” 

He chuckled and pulled you into his arms, kissing the top of your head, “I'll do that, and more. Starting with our repeatedly abandoned dishes.” 

You kissed his chest smiling. “I can't wait to say ‘I do’.” 

A/N: GUys i DROPPED MY PHONE ON MY FACE JUST AS I FINISHED THE SEX SCENE and it very STRATEGICALLY landed right on a pimple on my forehead with the corner like FML. here i am thinking about being railed into SUNday by MR NANAMI KENTO AND MY PHONE SAYS BONK GO TO HORNY JAIL HELP. THAT TOO DURING PRIDE MONTH. is this a hatecrime???

[kaciidubs]

Thinking abt minho eating pussy like its ice cream....

Like mans would full LATCH onto your shit,then tounge fuck you....(ASJGKDJSHVKWNWKCJQJ-) AND AND HE WOULD SO SPIT ON IT- IM- 😍🫣🤭🤭 then your eyes turn glossy n shit and your like "damn....why he fucking my shit up 😔?". He would also take your ability to walk by eating you out...LIKE HOW?!?! (ive NEVA got my poosay ate before so ion know what it feels like 😔💔)

-🪼

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Kitten Licks

Jellyfish nonie, I fully believe Minho would be the type to HAPPILY spend his hours lazily licking and eating you out like you were the worlds finest soft serve ice cream!!

❣ Summary: Greed was a devilish thing to a man who simply wanted to eat you like an ice cream cone. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 458 ❣ Warnings: Slight Dom! Minho, oral, fingering, spit play, degradation, implied multiple orgasms, pussy drunk Minho ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Minho is referred to as Min, Reader is referred to as Kitten and greedy ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

You’re not sure how long you’ve been spread on your bed - it could’ve been a day, a week, two hours, 45 minutes, the concept of time evaded you as you fought the roll of your eyes; your chest rising and falling with heavy pants.

“M-Min- Minho-”

He hummed against your clit in response, the act only serving to make you arch off of the bed with a choked moan - you were so sensitive, so fucking sensitive and he was the cause of it all.

“Kitten,” he huffed, pulling away from your pulsing cunt with an air of annoyance and sheer audacity, “if you have something to say, then say it - I’m sort of busy here.”

Oh, how you wished you could punch him, but he’d essentially finger and tongue fucked all the strength out of you - all of the sense out of you.

Your legs were bent at the knee and spread on the bed, his head previously laying against the inside of your left thigh as he lazily licked and suckled at your clit, nimble fingers stroking at your dripping hole and bringing more of your arousal out for him to lap up.

You’re not sure how many orgasms he was able to pull from you just from this technique alone; it felt like after the first one hit, each one that followed came in waves that were slowly built off of the previous, each one more intense, lasting even longer. 

“Please, I want you.”

“And you have me, don’t you?”

The nonplussed look he leveled you with sent chills down your spine, your walls clenching around the two fingers stuck within you like a placeholder, pacifying you until he was ready to give you something more.

“Oh - you’re just being greedy, aren’t you?” He tsked, curling his fingers to graze the softness of your g-spot, “Four- Five orgasms, and you’re still not satisfied - not until you’ve been stuffed full of my dick, hm?”

A flash of mischief streaked across his face, and before you knew it he was sliding a third finger past your sensitive walls, setting a pace that flexed the muscles in his bicep and made the veins in his arm pop.

“Oh my g- Minho!” Your body writhed - well, as much as it could as he kept you spread for him with even stronger arms, incomprehensible moans and babbles leaving you through choked sobs and electrified overstimulation.

“Give me two more,” he gritted before dipping his head down, lapping messily at your clit before licking around where his fingers were currently drilling inside of you, collecting your arousal in his mouth before spitting it right back onto your pussy. “Two more, then we’ll see if you’ve got enough sense left for my cock.”

[whslnc]

— Brat

nsfw mdni :3 | dom!brat tamer!bsf!vernon x fem!reader | 1.1k

!! overstimulation, brat reader, slightly controlling, loud moaning(f), fingering, doggy, petname (babe), dirty talking, maybe others but it should be fine lemme know if you care !!

- this came to me in a dream not vernon but this lol, vernon seemed perfect for the role, written at 4 am in the morning don’t even worry about it. neo culture technology

Finally, the day had come for your monthly movie night with Vernon, you had a whole system you operated so it could be a fun experience for both of you. Picking out of a box filled with movies titles you had both submitted throughout the past few months, you both picked a movie then decided which one out of the two you would see that night, sometimes going for both.

This night was no different, you had decided on a movie for the night together, sitting on your respective sides of the couch. You let your legs lounge on his lap, resting your back against the arm rest, not paying mind to his playful poking on your thighs as the movie begun.

Most of the first hour, you sat in silence just throwing in a funny remark here and there for giggles, then came the scenes. After watching so many movies the sex scenes, bothered you less and less, you’d usually take the opportunity to say something dumb about it but your focus was elsewhere. The touch was delicate, faint almost, his fingers running up your thighs, it was hard to think coherently with the uncensored scenes in front of you.

“No one is screaming that loud, that’s hilarious” you force the words out trying to get your mind off the soft touches, your voice caught his attention and his roaming hand stopped.

“Some people get really loud to be honest” he says, nodding to himself before turning to you, you narrow your eyes at him trying to figure out if he was talking from experience or just generally.

“Like you’ve had someone screaming in bed?” he laughs at your confused expression answering your question with a nod, amused by the fact that you find it impossible.

“I’m sure you do” there was no way, you had never experienced it so it didn’t seem probable to you, simply agreeing reluctantly to your friend’s baseless claims.

He looks at you closer brows furrowed as he leans in, his hands perfectly wrapped around your thighs sliding further up, stopping inches away from your bulging lips.

“You think I’m lying?” a soft laugh of disbelief escapes his mouth, his eyes scan your face genuinely curious, watching you blink away before speaking up.

“I’m just saying any one can fake pleasure” you finally say looking back at him, a hint of shock under his smile, his lips twitching as he lets out a scoff.

“Fuck, I didn’t know you were such a brat”

One glance down between your legs, it was so obvious how badly you wanted it, for his hand to move closer to press against your aching clit just begging to be stimulated. That didn’t matter, he watched as your breaths grew bigger, your hips moving closer subconsciously drawn to the touch of his hand just resting on your thigh.

“Nonie… please” that was all he needed, your whole body begging for him to make you lose your voice to his touch. The sudden pressure sends a jolt to your spine making you arch your back, just from his fingers rubbing through your thin panties. The sound of his laugh mocking you only adding to your pleasure, letting him pull down your shirt’s neck for your pretty breasts to fall out, you really were all talk so easily letting yourself get used.

You couldn’t keep your eyes off him, his thumb brushing against your nipple before pinching the sensitive skin sliding down to the base holding onto it as his lips met your pebbled nipples, his wet tongue pressing on it making you suck in air from the feeling. So distracted by his kisses, the feeling of his fingers slipping inside your wet skin caught you off guard, a soft moan leaving your lips.

“Don’t fake it for me, I know you can take more than this” his hot breath against your ear as he spoke, placing a soft kiss on your jawline, pulling his fingers out completely covered with your juices bringing them to your lips, pulling down your jaw to open your mouth for him.

You find yourself moaning on his fingers as you suck on them, enjoying your taste on his soft fingers. His smirk as he takes out his fingers makes you weaker than you already were, rolling over on your belly ready let him take your pussy.

Getting rid of all your bottom clothing, you bend over his legs keeping your ass up for him to use to his content. A light smack against your ass the feeling tingling to your desperate pussy, he slides his fingers back in fucking your tight pussy sliding in a third finger as he quickens the pace, your noises are barely quiet as his fingers rub swiftly against your spot, hitting you so perfectly you have to dig your head into the couch to mute your pleading.

“I want you to hear yourself,” you feel his hand grab around your jaw lifting your head up, as he places his fingers against your clit stimulating it with fast back and forths making you legs grow weak, trembling uncontrollably, weak taps against his wrists for him to stop only for him to push you further.

Your pleading becomes more desperate as you near your release point, he can feel you tensing so hungrily around his fingers, loving how easily you crumble, cussing out his name as you pour out on his fingers. He wastes no time making you kneel on the couch, spreading your legs out so he can get a better view of your throbbing pussy, standing right behind you.

“You’re so fucking hot baby, I’m gonna make you scream my name tonight” It was a promise, the sound of him taking out his cock made your pussy beg, missing the hot feeling of being fucked by a rock hard shaft.

Your hands grab each side of your ass pulling them apart for him to see how desperate your pussy was for him to fill it up, the scoff that escaped his lips was so telling. In a heartbeat you feel him thrust deep inside you making your back arch, his hand wrapping around your throat as his thrusts continued.

“Fuck… talk to me baby” with every thrust you feel you body grow weaker, the only sounds able to leave your lips are desperate wails from the overstimulating pleasure, his cock hitting harder against you repeatedly in only a second.

Your words are inarticulate, you can’t even tell how loud you’re screaming till he gags you with his fingers, muting your cries as you cum your whole body stiffening around him, grabbing your ass and squeezing it against his dick filling up your used hole.

You let your body relax on the couch completely disheveled, watching him take his seat beside you, pressing play on the remote to resume the movie.

“Let’s finish the movie now”

[thriftedtchotchkes]

hi ur writing is so so good, makes me go insane ur amazing

okay so could you do a normally dom!joel but one day he has the day off and reader doesn’t, so all he does ALL day is think about her. When she gets home he’s worked himself into a frenzy, desperate asf. So instead of his usual dominant self he’s desperate!joel whining and whimpering for her to touch him, make him cum, moaning in her ear and grinding against her.. all of that fun stuff 🤭

thank u for ur time, pls excuse the depravity 🙏🏾

hi nonie! loooved this request so much. i got a similar one from @luvrxbunny, so i combined them a bit and made it a lil longer. hope you both enjoy!

omg ur so amazing ily pls pls pls pls pls pls pls can i have dom!joel with a praise kink 🙏🏾 he doesn’t even really realize it but reader does and she’s just pummels him with praise while he’s fucking her and he does feral, moaning and grunting in her ear i’m sorry im so feral

way too damn needy

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-outbreak, language, smut, dom-turned-sub!joel, gentle-dom!reader, praise kink, masturbation, phone sex, blowjobs, face fucking, lil fluff

word count: 2.8k

What a way to spend his only day off in weeks. The weather’s perfect for playing his guitar on the porch, and he thought he’d even squeeze in a swim before getting started on building that new bedside table for Sarah. He had plans. 

But instead, Joel’s stalking around his living room like a caged animal in an endless loop of waiting, waiting, waiting.

It’s like he’s been transported back to his teenage years when every guy in a relationship followed his girl around like a puppy, always at her beck and call. Wondering what she was doing, if she was thinking about him. Except he wasn’t even that guy in high school. Not then, and definitely not now.

There’s really no logical reason for him to be this wound up, totally unable to do a single thing on his to-do list just because you’re not home. Leave it to your company to be the only one in the entire country that doesn’t give their employees Labor Day off.

That’s probably a gross exaggeration, but what does he care? He’s been tragically affected by this clearly personal transgression, and has to wait…two more hours? Seriously? You normally leave around 5:30, which means you’re home by six, and he’s not sure he can wait that long.

The sad fact of it all is that he’s already wasted almost the entire day not enjoying all of those relaxing activities he’d planned for. What’s even sadder is that he’s been half-hard for most of it, intermittently pausing his ridiculous pacing to grind the heel of his hand into his crotch for relief. Petulantly waiting for you to get home and take care of it for him.

Well, another hour’s gone by, it’s 5 pm, and he’s officially past his limit. At this point, he's probably better off handling it himself, at least until you're finally back. Then, you’re all his. 

He’ll fill you up with every last bit of pent-up frustration he’s felt since you left the house this morning, making you regret not just calling in sick. You might have to tomorrow after he’s done with you.

Joel drops onto the couch, laying to face the door so he’s the first thing you see when you walk in. Pulling his boxers and jeans down just enough to get his cock out, he wraps his hand around himself, immediately hissing out a breath through his teeth. Shit, he’s been hard for hours and just that slight touch already has him leaking precum all over his fingers. 

For a moment, he worries that maybe he’s a little too worked up, that he’ll cum way before he gets the chance to make you sorry for making him feel so desperate. So needy. And that makes him mad.

It should be your fingers covered in precum, your plush lips sucking him down to the hilt, and your pretty pussy aching with the need to have him inside you. Funny how you’re always so good for him, except today when he needs you the most.

His hand starts to move languidly before he can stop it, the slide wet and tight, just like he knows you’ll be. But it’s not you, and that makes him even angrier. If he can’t feel you the way he needs to, then maybe your voice will hold him over until he can. 

The phone only rings twice before you pick up.

“Baby, I’m busy right now. What’s up?” you answer, slightly out of breath. 

It’s cruel, but Joel honestly doesn’t give a shit if you’re busy. Not when his mind is this clouded with thoughts of you on your back, breathing much heavier than you are right now. But he manages to keep that to himself.

“You comin’ home soon?” he asks gruffly, still tugging on his cock, head thrown back on the armrest of the couch.

“Uhh, probably leaving in about…a half hour?” Your voice lilts like you had to double-check the time. “Everything okay?”

“Any chance you can leave now?” he tries again, side-stepping your question. 

The desperation in his voice is obvious, and it makes him feel even more pathetic. He wonders if you can hear it. Part of him hopes you can.

“Why, did something happen? Is Sarah okay?” you ask, clearly concerned. 

“S’fine, everythin’s fine. Just miss ya, s’all," he lies shakily.

Of course, he misses you, but nothing here is fine. His angrily weeping cock is a testament to that. He's all but fucking into his own fist now, hips bucking off the couch as he pants into the phone.

“Joel, what—are you touching yourself? Jesus,” you mumble, and he can hear your heels clacking against the floor like you’re walking somewhere. Quickly.

“Been thinkin’ about ya all damn day. Dunno why you went into work on a fuckin’ holiday,” he grunts. “Should’a been here with me, on your back, beggin’ for my cock like a good girl.” 

You inhale sharply and, though muted through the phone, he hears it loud and clear, dribbling more precum down his shaft. Unfamiliar voices start to filter through the speaker, so he’s guessing you can’t say much. 

And that’s okay. He has no problem filling the silence. Joel loves talking to you while he’s getting off.

“Had me feelin’ needy today, babygirl. Y’know I don’t like that,” he says dangerously. Your heels hit the ground faster, and he subconsciously matches his strokes to your pace. “Thought I was losin’ my mind for a while there. Was just about ready to let you do whatever you wanted to me when you got home, s’long as I got to fuck that tight pussy of yours.”

A door slams in the background, then all he can hear is you panting heavily in his ear. But when you finally speak again, your voice sounds different. Less like his good girl, and more like someone who knows they hold all the power.

“Oh, poor baby,” you coo, catching him off guard. “Did I leave you alone too long?”

He can tell you’re mocking him but, for some reason, his resolve starts to slip away more and more with every violent throb of his cock. Maybe it’s desperation. Or maybe he just likes it. 

“I’m so sorry,” you continue, murmuring sweetly in his ear. “I can make it all better…but only if you wait a little longer. Can you do that for me? Be my good boy.”

He bites back a groan, gripping the base of his cock hard to keep from cumming then and there. That's...new. And sexy as hell. He's still frenzied to the point of no return, but you also might've rewired something in his brain because he suddenly realizes he does want to be your good boy. Badly.

Fuck, he hopes you get home soon.

That last half hour of work was torture. You spent the entirety of it, and the car ride afterward, marinating in your soaked underwear, anticipating everything Joel has in store for you when you get home.

You're not sure what came over you on the phone, but it sounded like he enjoyed it. A lot. It’s a dynamic you’d never thought to try in your relationship, not with Joel’s domineering personality. The fact that he went along with it at all must mean he’s going through it, and that’s something you’re a little too excited to see.

The house is quiet when you walk in, save for the sound of your keys dropping into the bowl by the door. You turn to hang your bag on a nearby coat rack, and that's when you see him.

Joel, still lying on the couch exactly where you assume you left him after your call, with his hand squeezed tight around the base of his cock. He looks like a goddamn mess—sweating, hard as a rock, and leaking all over himself. His eyes are a little wild, more so than you've ever seen them. Christ, poor baby. You didn’t think your absence would affect him this much.

“Aw, sweet boy. Is all this for me?" you smile softly. He sucks in a breath, visibly twitching in his hand, and your smile widens. “Sit up, I can’t play with you like this.”

He complies immediately, and it sends a shiver up your spine. You love how well he’s listening, even though he almost looks like he's in pain after being in this state for so long. For that, you think he deserves a reward.

So, you give him one—the one he’s been waiting for all day. You undress for him, maintaining eye contact as you slip off your stuffy business attire, finally ridding yourself of your oppressively sticky underwear. 

Dropping to your knees between his legs, you gaze up at him affectionately, mouth inches away from his drooling cock. 

"Tell me what you want," you lean in, pressing your lips against the smooth, velvety skin. "Still wanna fuck me? Get me on my back, begging for it?"

Your tongue darts out to taste him, and you moan, licking a wide stripe up to wrap your lips around the tip. He's salty and heady, and so fucking delicious, but he still hasn't answered you. Instead, his fingers thread through your hair, guiding you down halfway and back up, shallowly fucking your mouth.

"I—fuck, please...," he's struggling with his words, whimpering around each syllable. "—baby, I waited...been good, did what ya said."

You nod your head understandingly, or at least try to as you continue to let him thrust into the inside of your cheek. His eyes are hyperfocused on the way your skin bulges around him, each stroke sending a shockwave of pleasure straight down his tightening balls.

"Christ, you feel good. Worth waitin' for, so fuckin' worth it," he rasps, his fingers tensing in your hair. "Need ya to—," he repositions your head so he can thrust further, deeper until he's nudging the back of your throat, "—ngh, make me cum. Suck harder, baby, please."

Soft, hiccuped moans escape his parted lips, increasing in volume when you start to drool around him, down your chin and onto your breasts. You can tell he's about to burst, feeling his skin growing taut against your tongue.

"M'gonna—haah, gonna...," desperation clouds his eyes, still dictating his every thought and move. 

But you don't let him because that's not what he said he wanted earlier. He's allowed to buck into you a few more times before you pull off with a loud pop, and the needy, frustrated whine he lets out almost makes you reconsider. Almost.

"I'm gonna make you cum, I promise, but not with my mouth," you tell him, voice tinged with disappointment, wrecked from the force of taking him like that. "You were doing so well for me. Come down here, keep being my good boy and I'll make you feel good."

Plopping down on the carpet, you spread your legs so he can see how wet you are for him. It's only gotten worse since earlier, slick coating your thighs, shiny and all the more inviting. You lay back, trailing your fingers up your belly to your breast to tweak a nipple, sighing as you reach out to him with your other hand.

Again, he obeys, his desire to empty down your throat all but forgotten. His shirt is quickly discarded, followed by everything below his waist, and then he's shifting onto the floor between your legs.

"There's my sweet boy," you coo, running your hands up his chest through a smattering of coarse, dark curls, and it rumbles under your palms as he mewls sweetly at your praise. 

He leans over you, hovering like he's waiting for permission to touch you, but he doesn't need it. The only thing you're trying to do is guide him, not control him. You want to make sure he gets exactly what he was so patient for. 

"Wanna feel you, babygirl. Let me—," he amends what he was about to demand, "...can I touch you?"

You bite your lip nodding as you smile up at him, and he wastes no time dropping down to bury his face into the crook of your neck, sucking wetly as he presses his body flush against yours. You writhe underneath him, just as pent up as he is by now, the realization triggered by how incredible his naked body feels on top of you. 

"Fuckin' hell, you're soft," he moans into your ear, propped up on his forearms. His cock brushes against your inner thigh, and his moan turns guttural, raw like it clawed its way out. "Mmph, I can't—"

He lurches up to crash his lips into yours, kissing you sloppily, hungrily, as his hips finally dip to drag against where you're soaked and aching. But not for nearly as long as he's been, and right now, he comes first. You need him to know he can have you. That he doesn't have to wait anymore.

"Don't...don't fight it. You've been perfect, you deserve it," you gasp out, and his hips jerk, your words forcing a low keen past his lips and into your mouth. "Take, baby. Take what you need."

Joel doesn't take, he seizes, laying claim to every part of you. Like he's afraid he won't get another chance if he doesn't take full advantage of what you've given him right now.

He faintly reminds you of a puppy lacking object permanence, believing the next time you leave, he'll be stuck waiting for you to come back to him forever. God, you're not even sure how you fucked him up so badly, but it's clear by the way he's handling you that he won't let you go again.

He moves quickly. One moment, he's leaning back on his heels, digging his fingers into your waist to yank you up onto his thighs, and the next, he's fucking into you as hard and fast as a bullet train. His cock somehow feels thicker, heavier than it ever has when he breaches your cunt, and the stretch has you clawing at the carpet beneath you.

"Missed you all day, wanted you all goddamn day," he growls, plowing into you forcefully enough to make your brain go fuzzy. "Fuck, babygirl, you got no idea what I've been through."

Christ, that feels—it feels...Christ. He's hitting something. You have no idea what, but it feels ungodly, like if he keeps going just like that, you'll cum without his fingers on you at all. It's happened before with Joel, but it's rare—and it's only when he's deep, lighting up all of your nerve endings at once. Fuck, he's being so good today.

"S'okay, you're okay," you gasp, clenching down around him when he suddenly pounds into the spot dead on. "I...I'm here now. Just keep going there, right there."

He nods frantically, gritting his teeth as you continue to tighten around him.

"Good boy," you mumble deliriously, your back arching completely off the ground as your orgasm rocks you. 

"Shit, you—'m not touchin'...fuck, baby, you cummin'?" 

It hits him all at once, what's happening, and then he's cumming, too. He's loud through his entire release, alternating between drawn-out moans and hiccuped whimpers as he fills you up with a whole day's worth of pent-up frustration.

Thrusting until your aftershocks have subsided, he grinds in deep one last time, letting you milk him completely dry before he pulls out. You're boneless underneath him, your eyes glazed over while his are finally clear for the first time in almost ten hours. 

He lowers your body onto the floor and crawls over next you, pulling your body against his. His embrace is warm and pleasant, and enough to pull you out of your post-orgasm stupor. Wriggling in his arms to get more comfortable, you tilt your head back from where he'd tucked it under his chin to grin up at him.

"So you missed me, huh?"

He rolls his eyes, back to his usual, not-totally-depraved self, but you already know the answer. He just spent the last hour showing you exactly how much.

"Thought I already made that clear," he confirms gruffly, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Next time, could ya maybe just use your vacation days? Please?"

"Sure," you laugh, nuzzling into his neck. "I'll save them up just for you." 

You reach up to scratch your fingernails across his beard, your other hand petting the soft curls at the nape of his neck. A soft noise rumbles low in his chest, but he tries to play it off by clearing his throat. Playfully raising an eyebrow, you continue your ministrations and it happens again.

"Baby, quit, 'm not a dog," he deadpans, even as he leans into your touch, his body betraying him.

"You sure about that? Because you sure were needy like one today."

[cosmicpearlz]

it’s always been you

summary: being best friends since childhood means you guys have always been in each other’s lives. expect now, it has different meanings.

pairing: joão félix x reader

as soon as you found out joão was going back to chelsea to play football, you immediately went back with him. ever since you guys were kids, you've been attached to the hip. while he pursued a career in football, you pursued a career in photography. traveling the world to take different pictures for different teams or sports outlets. settling back in london, you felt exhausted. it was nice being able to be back in your shared apartment. practically sleeping a whole day away.

"good morning sunshine," joão's soft voice vibrated through the kitchen. mumbling a quiet hi, you walk over to him and slide your arms around his waist. pressing your chest to his back.

"jet lagged?'

"jet lagged."

"you want tea or coffee?"

"tea please," you kissed his shoulder blade and released your hold on him. bending down to pick up floki, who stood right at your feet.

"good morning to you too, handsome boy," you press a kiss to his fur and snuggled him into your arms.

"ouch, all i got was a hi. i'm a bit hurt." you playfully slap his shoulder.

"you get my love all the time! plus, i literally hugged you first before I grabbed floki."

"i'm kidding, here's your tea," he sits the mug on the countertop and sits a warm croissant on a small plate. you sit floki back down on the ground and pulled joão in for another hug.

"i don't think i tell you enough that i love you. i don't know what i would do without you in my life."

"probably forget to eat or something along those lines," joão kisses your cheek. you both sit next to each other on the stools that were under the counter. enjoying the light breakfast together. it was your morning tradition.

"do you want to come to training with me?"

"you're not tired of seeing my face everywhere yet?"

"never."

"then of course i'm coming."

-

"here comes the clingy couple," cole whispers to noni. they snicker to themselves watching you guys. you and joão walk towards the pitch hand and hand.

"well, if it isn't chelsea's personal cheerleader. I haven't seen you in forever and welcome back brother," noni greets the two of you.

"noni and cole! how are you guys?" you momentarily let go of joão's hand to hug the chelsea players. afterwards, you step back to allow joão to greet his teammates.

"doing pretty good. ready for this home game on saturday. how are you?" noni asks with a smile.

"i'm okay, just so jet lagged. i'm excited to be home though." the boys nodded, understanding what you meant.

"i'm gonna be up in the stands, probably snapping some pictures! I'll see you in a bit, yeah?"

"yeah, i'll see you later love." you kissed his cheek and leave a squeeze to his arm. sending a last wave to the boys, you walked off to the stands. joão watches you walk away, not realizing he was being watched by his teammates.

"so, when did you guys make it official?" noni asks once you were out of earshot.

"bro c'mon, i told you she doesn't like me like that."

"but you're obviously in love with her just like she's in love with you!"

"she doesn't love me like that. i wont mess up our friendship just because of my feelings. she's too important to me."

"i think you should just tell her. you're not seeing what we see. the way she looks at you like you've hung the moon up just for her. or the way she's glued to your side and touchy," cole adds to the conversation.

"trust us bro, she's not gonna reject you," noni pats joão's back, trying to encourage the older boy.

"i dunno, maybe i'll do it tonight."

-

he didn't say anything that night or the next night. it was saturday now and joão has yet to tell you how he felt. instead, he stood in the corner of the room watching you interact with mutual friends. a small team party to celebrate the recent chelsea win. getting six goals in one game and the season just started, called for a celebration.

you bounced around the room talking to the girlfriends and wives of different players. joão loved that you were naturally extroverted. it meant that you bring enough energy for the two of you and he can sit back. he continued to watch you even after another guy started talking to you.

"whose y/n talking to?" joão turns to noni with a sour look. noni moves his head in the direction that joão was facing.

"oh, i think that's the brother to one of the girlfriends. think his name is paul."

"why is he so close to her?"

"why do you care?" joão shakes his head as nonchalantly as he could.

"i don't."

"you're jealous, aren't ya?"

"no."

the song changes and the boys hear you gasp loudly. of course, your favorite song ends up playing. joão thinks that he knows the song word for word, with the way you turn it on during your car rides. it brings a small smile to his face. you search the crowd looking for one person. when your eyes finally meet, your smile brights and make your way over to noni and joão.

"can i steal him for a bit?"

"he's all yours," noni nods his head and swiftly walks off to talk to someone else.

due to the song being on the slower side, you slide your arms around joão's neck. his arms finding their place around your waist, fitting perfectly. he pulls you closer to him as you guys began to sway together. not a care in the world about the other party goers.

"thought you'd be dancing with what's his name."

"oh paul? never. you should know that you're my only dance partner."

"am i really?"

"absolutely."

João is silent for the rest of the dance. not that you minded, the silence was natural between you two. you guys understood each other like no other. when the song came to an end, joão secretly wished it was longer.

"can we talk outside?"

"yeah sure," you interlocked hands with him, leading him outside. missing the way joão locked eyes with noni. who sported a deep smirk.

the music becoming background noise as you settled outside. your hand still laced with his, you gaze into his eyes. suddenly, he felt like the little kid he was when he first asked you to play with the action figures with him.

"everything okay?"

"i like you," joão blurted out.

"well i would hope so silly. we're best friends," you laughed, not understanding what he meant.

"no, not like that. like i'm in love with you and i have been for a long time now." it was as if time stood still. your eyes widen and his hand began to slip from yours. he messed everything up.

"i'm sorry if this ruined-"

"oh, thank god because i-"

talking over each other, making you both shut up. after another quick second of silence, you both burst into laughter. you were quick to re-grab his hand, holding it a bit tighter than before.

"as i was saying. thank god because i'm in love with you too. i just figured that you didn't reciprocate those feelings, so i hid them. i would rather have you in my life as my best friend then-"

"not having you at all," joão finishes the sentence for you.

"exactly! although, i thought i was being obvious with how much i clung to you."

"i just figured you were a touchy person!"

"only with you idiot."

joão finally makes his move and kisses you. a frantic and messy embrace that was long overdue. lips pressing against each other leaving you breathless. his hand traveling down your arms and under your shirt. softly caressing the bare skin that touched his fingertips. your hands tangling into his hair, pulling ever so slightly. joão groans into your mouth getting the hint and pulling you closer to his body. you grinned into the kiss, feeling your blood rush through your veins. he pulls away first to continue his attack on your neck. leaving a trail of feathery kisses from your neck to your collarbone.

"we should stop," you fight against the moan that threaten to come out.

"i know but i waited so long for this," joão's whisper falling on the skin of your neck. you pulled away from him before he could find the sweet spot that laid on your neck.

"let's go home, yeah?" with a smile that matched yours, joão nodded his head.

"let's go home."

[kumezyzo]

corpse x faceless streamer cause it has more plot...

anyway, enjoy! or dont :) m.list

as cliche and over-used as it is, you met bf!corpse in an among us lobby. but you two had heard of eachother before, seeing as youre in the same faceless community.

your followings seemed to have a lot of crossover, so when you met, it was a dream come true for your communites. and for you two, it was nice having someone understand what it was like to be faceless.

overtime, you two grew closer, hanging out outside of streams. and at some point, you got comfortable enough eachothers faces.

when your chat found out, it became the only thing they could talk about for a good two days on twitter.

"guys, corpse looks really cool," you said to your chat. you and corpse were streaming on your channel, just talking and catching up. his scoff made you giggle quietly. "im not joking, he's kinda... attractive."

"and yn looks nothing like how she described herself," he said, laughing at how much prettier he thought you were.

"and his hair is actually curly," you say.

then, you both went on anthony padilla's channel as a part of his 'I spent a day with...' series. and you revealed that you were doing the interview on the same day.

"i mean, corpse is the only other youtuber that knows what i look like," you state simply. "if im honest, the main reason im here is because this is the first time im meeting up with him in person."

thankfully, no one was suprised when they heard that in the video. but thats just because corpse posted a video of you two playing rock-paper-scissors.

it started off silent, you two doing the motions silently. corpse played scissors, you played rock. he sighed. another up and down motion. he played scissors, you played paper. you took a deep breath. another up and down. he played rock, you played rock. you scoffed and cracked your knuckles. one more time. he played paper, you played scissors.

"fuck!" he yelled loudly as you laughed manaically in the background.

during this meet up, you stayed at his apartment. and it just so happened you got to spend more time with him. slowly, you both started developing further feelings for eachother.

it showed itself in you two being cuddly, touchy with eachother. both of you tiptoeing round the topic of the weird dynamic. neither of you actually choosing to say anything or admit your feelings.

it really set in when he started unironically calling you "baby". it gave you butterflies and he felt his face heat up as the words left his mouth.

and when you had to leave, it was far more intense than you had expected.

"thank you for letting me stay here," you told him greatfully. he smiled softly at you, going in for a hug. you smiled and felt yourself melt into his arms.

you two pulled away briefly, looking into eachothers eyes. you dont know when it really happened, but the next moment, youre lips are on eachothers.

when you went back home, it was like you two know you were dating. but you never actually said it. it just felt right.

this is kinda like a prequel to this beautiful shit. i also know no one requested this (or at least i could find one when i went to check cause this was in my notes for way too long) -Nony

[b1mbodoll]

every single word you have ever written? so real pookie!!!

dropping in to say g!pchaewon and g!psakura are truly the realest thing to me, bc who else (me) is going to ride chaewon until she’s passed out and leave sakura dry (also me) while she films with her extensive camera collection? (me me me me)

pairings: miyawaki sakura + kim chaewon x f! reader

warnings: g!p + threesome + creampies + overstimulation + mommy kink + dacryphilia + oral + anal

💌: nonie baby you have the sexiest brain ever im so obsessed with this 😵‍💫 did my own lil spin on this but i hope you still enjoy !

sakura’s not an idiot. she knows about chaewon’s infatuation with her girlfriend and how the younger girl fantasizes about fucking you til she’s sure you’re knocked up.

she informs you of chaewon’s fantasies when she’s ballsdeep in your cunt and the thought of her joining you and kkura in bed makes your pussy clench, warm walls squeezing your girlfriend’s cunt. “oh, you like the sound of that, baby? is my cock not enough for your slutty pussy, hm?” her words cause your eyes to roll and your mouth to fall open in a silent moan, fucking yourself back on her dick.

after pumping you full of cum she pulls out and uses her fingers to spread your pussy open, obsessed with the sight of her semen dripping from your sloppy hole.

sakura tells chaewon that the two of you would be more than happy for her to join this once and she agrees immediately, cock hardening as she imagines how well you’d take her cock. the two of them make their way to your apartment where you’re already waiting, pussy wet and waiting to be fucked.

after they make their way inside, sakura greets you with a soft kiss before you pounce on chaewon, pulling her into bed with you and straddling her. “can’t wait to feel you inside me, chae.” you tell her, hands working on unbuttoning her shorts. she grunts softly at your words, mind hazy because she’s been waiting for this day for so long and now that it’s here she can’t believe it.

your pussy is drenched, making it easy for her length to slide in completely. “fuck you feel good” she sighs. you don’t allow her to get used to the feeling of you walls gripping her cock and start to bounce on her dick immediately. sakura doesn’t say a word, allowing you to use her friend for your pleasure until it’s her turn.

your cunt feels incredible and chaewon nearly blows her load seconds into you riding her. “don’t move.” she pleads, her words are choppy, teeth clenched as her hands grip your waist in an effort to stop your movements. “‘s okay wonnie,” you purr, pussy tightening around her, “cum inside me, sweetheart. want kkura to watch you fill me up.” your words send her over the edge, cock twitching as her cum shoots inside you, thick ropes painting your walls white as you cream around her. one load isn’t enough and you continue grinding against her, overstimulation drawing whimpers from the poor girl as she orgasms again, filling you to the brim, some of it even leaking out and dripping down her balls.

sakura decides to step in when chaewon begins to cry softly, “did you forget about me, princess?” she teases. your girlfriend pats your thigh twice and you know she wants you on your knees at the foot of the bed.

you obey immediately, allowing her to sit on the edge before making your way between her legs, grabbing her impossibly hard cock and slipping it in your mouth. “that’s my girl,” she praises, “always know jus’ what mommy wants, isnt that right?”

desperate moans and mhm’s are your only reply, not wanting to part with her cock and sakura thinks your mouth is heavenly, already close to blowing her load. her hands pull you off, a pout adorning your lips because you weren’t expecting her to deny you a taste.

“don’t pout, princess. wanna cum in your pussy, not your mouth.” her explanation has you scrambling to your feet and seating yourself on her lap, cunt dripping a mixture of yours and chaewon’s cum on sakura’s length.

she slips inside and it makes you moan, her cock is so thick it always stretches your hole so well. you’re insatiable, moaning like a pornstar as she toys with your clit, wanting you to cum first. everything becomes too much and your orgasm hits you without warning, unable to voice it to your girlfriend.

“i know, baby, i know.” her voice is laced with affection, thrusting slowly as she fills you up with cum.

when sakura cleans you up, chaewon watches you with adoration and all she can think about is how you took their cocks like a champ, wanting nothing more than to pound your cunt while kkura fucks your asshole next time.