#WHY THE LOVING FUCK DID I TYPE THIS???????

[muffinpink02]

Another Love (flatline)

Okay, this isn’t my usual kind of story, but I’ve always wanted to do a cheating fic. I haven’t been cheated on (yet, hopefully never) so I’m sorry if it doesn’t feel authentic. I took a different approach with it. But yeah, let me know what you think. Also thank you this anon. I know I didn’t do exactly what you asked but I hope you like it.

Warnings - smut 18, cheating, toxic, manipulative behaviour, swearing

word count 6922

The rain outside pelted hard against your living room window, the sad looking drizzle cascaded down the glass like a mini waterfall. The sky outside was grey and miserable, making your normally bright and sunny living room dark and gloomy. But being at the end of the year it wasn't a surprise the weather was so dull, even if you were living in the sunnier climate of Barcelona.

And as it was the end of the year that meant Christmas was only a week away. Which is exactly why you were searching on your phone for a last minute Christmas gift. Well, actually you had done all of your christmas shopping weeks ago. This last minute shop was for Alexia’s mum. Though, this gift wasn't from you, this gift would be from her very unorganised daughter. And just like Alexia did every year she left everything to the last minute and of course she had asked you to help her out.

���You’re better at shopping, amor. Just take my card. I know you’ll get something she likes.”

You of course couldn't say no to your fiance's pleading puppy eyes and honestly you didn't mind, you were better at buying the gifts for any occasion. And Alexia would only end up just buying something last minute that her mum definitely wouldn't want or use.

So you sat comfy on your sofa with a heavy blanket wrapped around you, snuggled in one of Alexia’s thick, soft jumpers, scrolling through your phone in search of the perfect gift for the older woman. You hummed, mindlessly nodding your head to the music that lightly played out of your speaker in the background. After another 20 minutes of scrolling you finally found the perfect gift. It was a beautiful red cotton scarf. Alexias mum had lost her own a couple weeks back, and as far you knew she hadn’t replaced it yet. So this was perfect! 

You added the item in your bag, filled out all the postage information and just before you could click the ‘buy now’ button, your screen turned black. Your phone battery had given up on you. 

“No! Fuck sake.” You grumbled, throwing your head back in annoyance.

What were the chances? I mean you were warned at 20% and 10% but still!

A loud sigh escaped your lips as you reluctantly kicked the covers that were wrapped tightly around your legs, freeing yourself from your comfy cocoon. You were about to go to your bedroom to grab your charger until you spotted Alexia’s ipad sitting under the coffee table. You leaned over and grabbed the device, thanking the heavens you didn't have to leave your spot.

“Please have charge.” You prayed as you pressed the on button.

The apple tech gods must have heard your prayers as the screen sprung to life with a full battery. “Yes!” You cheered as you slumped back into your pit, wrapping the covers around your body. 

You easily unlocked the device, typing in your date of birth for the password. You smiled as the screensaver appeared. It was a photo of you and Alexia last year, when you had been away on holiday, the very same holiday the blonde had proposed to you. You wore a huge smile while the blonde was lovingly kissing your cheek, both your sun kissed skin glowing on your faces.

You could still remember the moment she pulled the blue velvet box out. Your eyes had tears in them the moment she got on one knee, it was the easiest decision you had ever made.

It only made you more excited for the upcoming holiday you had booked. Not that Alexia had any clue, this was a surprise holiday, completely planned all by yourself. It was technically for her birthday but you couldn't wait another 2 months, she’d almost found out about it four times already!

You opened up the website again and found the red cotton scarf, you added the item to your trolley once more and began the process of filling out all of the shipping information again. You didn’t mean to tap the notification when it appeared on the screen, you swore as it instantly opened you up to Alexia’s emails and straight to the one that just landed in her inbox. 

“Shit.” You huffed. 

You were about to click off of the app and finish your purchase and you would have, if it wasn’t for the yellow emoji that caught your eye. You knew you shouldn't have, but something in your gut told you to read the message.

You blinked.

You stared at the screen. 

You blinked again.

Your face screwed up in confusion as you read the words, your heart instantly dropped to the pits of your stomach. “What?” You whispered to yourself

Alexia - I'll see you around 4 after training. Be ready. 

Joe - be quick, I’ve missed you 😘

“Missed you?” You said out loud. What?

No. Wait. Maybe there was more to it than this. Maybe it wasn't what you thought it was, surely not. Alexia wasn’t cheating on you, she’s your fiance for fuck sake, this wasnt what you thought. Just breath, don’t over react. This might be a friend or someone you don’t know, and she's meeting up with them. This might be nothing. Right? It's nothing. 

But, it also might be something. 

You scrolled a little further up on the conversation. 

Joe - Did you have to rip my underwear? 😂

Alexia - Sorry, i'll buy you another pair 

Joe - just for you to rip those too? 

Alexia - maybe 😘

Your breath caught in your chest as the words sunk in. You were wrong, this was clearly more than a friend.

You felt sick.

Your eyes kept going over the words, over and over and over until they didn’t make sense to you. You stared until the black lines that formed letters became small blurs that you could no longer read or process.

Alexia was cheating on you. 

Alexia. Your fiance. Your world. Your life. Your person was cheating on you.

This couldn’t be real, surely not. It must be a prank. A wrong email. Maybe she had been hacked or it's a code for football talk. Maybe …. something? You were so desperate you would believe anything else right now. But it was real, it was right in front of you, in black and white. You just didn’t want to believe it. You couldn’t.

Your mind went completely blank, a numbing feeling sunk into your bones. Nothing was processing right, it was like your body was trying to reject what it was feeling. Even your vision seemed to stop, everything around you seemed to blur. A deafening silence sliced through your head, ringing painfully inside your ears. 

Breath. 

With a shaky hand you swiped up to see how far this went. Maybe this was a one time thing? Not that it made it any easier, well, maybe it would? Maybe. But that thought was killed instantly as you watched the messages between Alexia and Joe go on and on. Your finger kept swiping the screen, watching the days and weeks go by. The dates were going further and further back. It felt like it would never end. 

Your stomach twisted as the dates went back eight months. Months. This had been happening for 8 months. Nearly a year. How? How was she doing this? When was she doing this? Why was she doing this? Countless questions were steam rolling through your head. You didn’t notice your fingers were gripping the iPad as hard as they were until the muscles in your digits started to hurt. 

The messages were short. There were no declarations of love or anything that seemed intimate. Just a lot of ‘when’ and ‘where’ there was the odd flirty message, like the one you read, but nothing cryptic, it almost seemed business li

“W-what?” You stuttered in disbelief.

This surely wasn’t happening, this had to be a dream. A nightmare.

You took a deep shaky breath, squeezing your eyes shut. You wanted to wake up and see that none of this was real. You had to wake up from this nightmare and see Alexia sleeping soundly in your warm shared bed as she cradled you against her chest like she did every night,

Please don’t let this be real. 

You didn’t realise you were crying until your tears began to drop on the screen, blurring the words that had just turned your world upside down. Your body was shaking, trembling hard as your fingers moved to swipe along the messages. You scrolled to the start of their conversation, needing to know how this started. 

No, you needed to see her. You needed to put a face to the name. You needed to see who this Joe was. 

You studied the name of the stranger. You instantly searched for her on Alexia’s instagram followers. It didn't take you long before you found her profile. Her public profile. Did they even care to be careful? The carelessness felt like another kick in the teeth, it almost felt like the stranger wanted you to see her. Maybe she did.

You scanned her profile. She was the complete opposite of you. Her hair, her eyes, her nose, her style, her smile. She was nothing like you. 

She was beautiful. 

Somehow that made the pain worse. You couldn't stop the humiliation creeping down your skin, and your walls going up. Your mind dived into a deep pit of insecurity, not only was you being cheated on, but the girl didn't even look like you. A nauseous feeling flooded your brain. Did Alexia not find you attractive anymore? Was this the kind of girl Alexia actually liked and wanted?

A certain photo caught your interest. Joe was laying beside a pool, her perfect body cladded in a bikini that hardly contained her intimate parts, you scoffed in disgust when you spotted Alexia’s name in the likes. She had liked a few of her photos. Once again not caring about her footprint, she either had no shame or was just careless. It just felt like another punch in the gut. You continued to stalk Joe’s insta, looking for any more sightings of Alexia in the likes or comments, and maybe even a photo. 

She was stunning. She was perfect. She wasn't you.

You felt stupid. So fucking stupid. How many lies had Alexia told you? 

Your mind wandered to where they even met. Was she a fan? Did she know her from a life before you? Did she work for Barca? Did she find her online? On a dating app? Maybe they met on a night out?  It wasn't hard for her to do, you had noticed you had been asked less and less on nights out with the girls. Probably for this exact reason. Was she the only one, or was there others? Or maybe Alexia wasn't even meeting with the team.

Did the team know? Were they aware of what Alexia was doing? You had noticed some of the girls didn’t speak to you as much as they did before, maybe this was why? Maybe they felt bad, too ashamed to look you in the eye. But Alexia could.

Then it started to click, the late nights, the texts from Alexia telling you she was staying behind for extra training, it was all starting to take a different meaning. You pictured Alexia and Joe sneaking around, checking into some random hotel, naked and wrapped up in white sheets, panting and laughing at how clueless you were.  

You could feel the acidic bile daring to rise as you pictured Alexia with your rival. Did she make her feel better than you could? Satisfy her in a way you couldn't? 

That's when the intrusive images flashed in your mind, images of Alexia doing all the things she did to you to your opposite. Did she fuck her the same way she fucked you? Did she go down on her the way she went down on you? Biting at her thighs, making her beg to give her what she wanted, while your fiance smiled up at her with her hazel eyes. 

Her mouth kissing you hours after being with her. That’s when the bile finally rose up from your stomach. You ran to the bathroom just in time to make the toilet as the sick came up. You wiped your mouth with the back of your sleeve, your back slumped hard against the wall before collapsing on the bathroom floor. Your lip quivered as the tears finally spilled from your eyes, your body trembling against the cold tiled floor.

How was this happening? Alexia had proposed to you just last year, you were planning a wedding, a future together, a family. 

What did you do wrong? 

You didn’t know what to do. Should you call someone? Should you call Alexia? No. Should you leave? But where would you go? All your family and friends were back in the UK. You had some work friends here but you weren't close enough for something like this.

Everything was falling apart. Everything you thought you knew was one big lie. How could someone you love treat you like this? How? 

After what felt like hours, you found the strength to wash your mouth and face before carrying yourself back to the living room and opened the ipad back up. Reading the messages that were breaking your heart but you couldn't tear your eyes away.

The messages were short, no more than two lines but every word felt like another blow, another hard hit that made your chest painfully tight. You didn’t realise you were hardly breathing until your body forced you to take one large gulp for air. 

You felt your body go numb when you realised Alexia had met her on your 5th anniversary. 

God, you felt so stupid. You had waited at home for her. You had spent hours cooking a three course meal, all her favourites. 

Your eyes begin to blur again when you read their messages.

Joe - Are we meeting at the restaurant or should I meet you at the hotel?

Alexia - Come to the hotel, I want to see you before I go out

Joe - okay, but this time we have to make the reservation. We missed it last time.

Alexia - well if you hadn't have put on that dress that drives me fucking crazy we would have made it. 

You were broken. 

How was this your Alexia? 

This surely wasn't the same girl that made you feel effortlessly loved? The girl that knew you better than you knew yourself. The same girl that brought you untold happiness, happiness that you never knew existed before you met her. This wasn't the same girl that asked you to dance 5 years ago in the dingy little bar. The girl that had put a ring on your finger promising you a happily ever after. 

How was this her? Your Alexia. Was she even your Alexia anymore?

Nothing felt real. You looked around the living room, it didn’t look right, nothing looked right, nothing was the same. The peace and warmth you felt from the apartment had instantly disappeared, it felt cold, lifeless. 

You jumped when you heard a text come through on your phone, it was from Alexia.

Alexia - Hola, baby, we’re going over game strategy so I will be home a little later today

And there it was, another one of her lies. A heavy weight sunk over your body, making you feel numb to the bone.

You placed the ipad on the coffee table and slowly stood up. Your legs felt like led as you began to walk, you didn't really know what you were doing, your body felt like it was going into some weird overdrive or maybe it was the shock from it all. You stopped and stared at the christmas tree that flickered in the corner, your mind took you somewhere else. You weren't sure how long you were standing there before your legs brought you to your shared bedroom.

—-----------

The familiar sound of keys rattled in the door. It was once a sound you looked forward to, instead your stomach lurched. You took a deep and shaky breath as you got ready to come face to face with your finance, the woman that had shattered your heart into a million pieces. 

“Amor, I’m home.” 

Alexia frowned when you didn’t reply, she removed her shoes and made her way into the apartment to find you. It didn't take her long to spot you in the living room, sitting at the breakfast table. 

The beating in your chest thumped hard when your eyes fell on the blonde. You wanted to hate her, you wanted to instantly fall out of love with her, you wanted to feel nothing when you heard her call you by your pet name, but that wasn't the case. You still felt everything you did before you saw the messages, before you knew the truth.

But you knew where she had been this evening. 

Alexia could instantly tell you had been crying, your blushed cheeks and watery eyes gave you away, not that you were trying to hide it. You wanted her to see the hurt she had caused.

“Bebé? What's wrong?” 

Alexia hurried over to you, she was about to cup your face, but was stopped in her tracks when you moved away. Your eyes met hers, you could see her hair was wet, she at least had the decency to shower before returning home, or make it look like she had just showered after training.

“I know.” Your voice croaked out, the hours of crying weakening your throat.

Alexia’s face frowned in confusion, it instantly annoyed you.

“Que?” 

“Joe.”  Even saying her name out loud made you want to scream.

Alexia’s face dropped, you could see the look of horror as realisation hit her. Her mouth gaped open but no words came out. The silence was deafening, you felt your skin burning, it felt itchy, painfully itchy you wanted to tear it off. After what felt like hours, though it was likely seconds, Alexia finally spoke.

“Wh-what? Who? What do you mean?” The blonde anxiously fiddled with the zip on her joggers. 

You felt your shoulders slump, she didn't even have the decency to just be honest, but why would she? She’d lied this whole time. 8 months. 

“Don’t. Don’t play dumb, Alexia. I saw your messages on your emails.” 

Alexia's frown deepened. A flash of anger flickered across her eyes. “Why were you going through my emails?” 

Was she really going to try and turn this on you?

“What? Are you actually fucking asking me that?” You snapped, your own anger boiling over.

“No! I mean-” Alexia pushed her hand through her wet loose hair, you didn't miss the way it shook. A trait she did when she was nervous. “I don’t know what you’re talking abo-”

“Don’t lie to me!” You shouted, voice cracking. The tears you were trying so hard to hold down bursting at the seams. “Please. Just stop lying, Alexia.” God. You sounded so weak.

Alexia looked at you, those beautiful hazel eyes you loved so much filling with tears. Her foot was tapping against the floor, she looked scared. Good, you thought. She bit her lip so hard it looked like it might bleed. You watched her through blurry eyes, she took a step back from you, covering her face with her hands. Her body stiffened as she took a deep breath.

“She means nothing to me.” Her voice was just above a whisper. But you heard it.

You sucked in a hard breath. Even though you knew what you knew, hearing her confess it hit you harder than you could have imagined. You closed your eyes, trying to compose yourself, but when Alexia put her warm hand on your shoulder you broke down, your skin prickled where she touched you.

“Amor, please. Please don't cry.” The blonde begged. 

You covered your face as the tears streamed down your hot cheeks, you could feel your heart beating painfully fast. It felt like you were about to go into shock, maybe you were, your body felt like it was taking a brutal beating from the inside out.

“You were with her tonight.” You weren't asking. You felt her hand stiffen on your shoulder.

The silence was so loud.

“You were with her tonight, weren't you Alexia.” You repeated. Your tone was sharp. You bluntly moved her hand from you, not wanting her to touch you. You ignored her gasp from the out of character movement from you, but you didn't care. The thought of her hands being on someone else made the pit of your stomach tighten painfully.

You watched as a few tears slipped from her eye’s. You could see the panic starting to hit her. You stood up, you needed to move, you walked past Alexia even though a small part of you wanted to hold her. What the fuck? No. You ignored it. You walked to the open kitchen, you grabbed the sides to help you with your balance, you were sure your legs were about to give up on you, your knees buckling under the turmoil of emotions that ran through your body. 

“I just don’t understand.” You squeaked out, turning your head to see Alexia who looked like a kicked puppy. 

“I am sorry. I-I- she means nothing to me. I swear.” She slowly walked over to you but stopped when you moved away.

You didn't believe her. You would never believe her again.

“You’ve been doing this for months, months Alexia! Lying to me for fucking months, seeing this girl behind my fucking back!” You screamed. Your chest was heaving with anger.

Alexia didn't say anything, what could she say? She stood there looking like she could be sick, the colour draining from her face.

“You asked me to marry you, Alexia. I have a ring on my finger because I love you. Don’t you love me? What have I done wrong?” 

You didn’t know why you had blamed yourself, but it felt like you needed to know. 

Alexia looked panicked, your words clearly making her wince. “No! I do love you! I-I- she is nothing. It’s just sex. It’s just a big mistake. I don’t know why I did it!”

That hurt. You would have some kind of understanding if you and Alexia didn't have sex, but you did. Yeah, of course it wasnt every night, or even every week but you were still intimate. So this must have been more than sex.  

You shook your head, you didn’t believe that, not anymore. You felt so small as your world began to crumble around you. The blonde was now by your side, catching you before you dropped to your knees. 

What was happening? How was this your life right now? It wasn't meant to be like this. Alexia was never meant to be the one that broke your heart.

“Baby, please. I’m here.” She grabbed your body pulling you into hers. 

You had a burning urge to hold her, you wanted to feel safe in her arms like you always did, but you felt weird, her arms didn't feel right anymore. It made you feel sick, you could feel your stomach churning as you pictured Alexia holding your opposite. You flinched away like she was made of fire. 

“Here? You’re here? You havent been here, you’ve been creeping around fucking some girl and god knows how many others behind my back! Don’t you dare say you’re ‘here’. You screamed so loud the neighbours would have heard every word.

Let them hear.

Alexia shrank at your words. You hated that you felt bad. She was the one that had hurt you.

“Why? Just tell me why? Am I not enough?” You felt like you swallowed a stone with that question. 

Alexia sniffled, wiping her tears with her sleeve. It made you realise how little you saw the girl cry. 

“You are everything and more, I swear it. I….I panicked.” Her accent grew thicker as her words shook in her throat.

“What? Panicked for what?” You questioned. 

“After I proposed.” She took a breath for air, her hazel eyes looked more green after she cried. “I panicked and got scared. It was only meant to be once, but then we started planning the wedding. It got more real and I-I just didn't know how to stop.”

“You asked me to marry you!” You said in disbelief. 

“I know! And I still want to!” She whispered.

You scoffed. This girl had some fucking nerve.

“Why would I marry someone who can lie to my face every night? Lie about where she is? Touch someone else and lay in bed with me the same night!” 

The neighbours were definitely getting a show now.

Alexia dragged her face, her puffy lips wet with tears. How could she still look so beautiful?

“I’m sorry. It was all just a big mistake I swear!” She moved closer to you. “Please, amor, forgive me! I have not been myself, I’m so sorry. I love you so much. I want to marry you and be with you! You are my world, my everything! Please! Please forgive me! Please.” She was hardly breathing, her gasps of air were short as the tears came pouring out of her. She dropped to her knees in front of you, her crying getting louder and louder, you thought she might be having a panic attack. 

Your own tears fell from your eyes as you watched the woman you love break down in front of you, you wanted to believe her, but your trust had shattered the moment you read those words. How could you trust her again?

“Alexia.” You whispered her name as you put your hand on her arm. 

The blonde looked up, her wide hazel eyes bore into yours. She looked so tired. She put her hand over yours and stood, her face inches from yours. 

“Babita, please. Please. I love you so much, give me another chance.”

Her large hands came up to your face, you allowed her to wipe the ever flowing tears from your cheeks. Even though it was Alexia who had broken your heart you still needed comfort, you still wanted to feel her. You still loved her.

She took you not moving for a good sign, taking her chances and gently cupping your cheeks. 

“Please, mi amor. I am so sorry. I am such a fool, you’re everything I want. I love you so much. I can’t do this without you.” 

She moved closer to you. Her familiar smell washed over you, she smelt like home. She wrapped you up in a tight hug, you felt yourself lean into her, you didn't know why. Maybe because your whole world had just been turned upside down and you needed to feel something, even if she was the culprit that caused you all this pain.

A couple of minutes passed by, all in silence other than a couple of sniffles from you and Alexia. And in those minutes you weren't sure where you went, it felt like you had left your own body. Like this was all just a big weird dream and you were about to wake up and see that it was all a mistake, see that this wasn't real. 

Maybe you were having a panic attack.

Alexia stroked your hair as your tears still fell, the front of her jumper was wet from your face but you only snuggled more into her.

You hated yourself for it. Why were you so weak? Why were you not screaming and calling her all the names under the sun for breaking your heart? For ruining your self confidence, for making you question everything you thought you knew. Why can’t you do it? 

“Alexia.” You whispered into her jumper.

“Sí, carino?” 

“You-you’ve broken me.” Your voice cracked as more tears came.

Alexia’s tears also sprung to her eyes as she heard your words, her arms held you tighter. She took a big shuddery breath before she kissed your head. “I’m so sorry. I will be sorry that I hurt you, until the day I die.” She confessed. 

Her words didn’t comfort you, not really. They made you wonder about the future you had planned with Alexia. The future you had once been so excited to share with the girl. Now all gone. 

“I will fix this, I will, amor. Please, let me fix this.”

You felt Alexia press her lips on the top of your head. You tried to ignore the warm feeling that swirled inside your stomach. It felt like you were losing a battle with your brain and body. You closed your eyes as a soft kiss was placed on your temple. It was the same spot Alexia kissed every morning. It was so familiar, and yet it felt different. Does it feel different? Or was your brain trying to protect you?

“You’re my world. I promise you I will fix everything.” She whispered into your ear.

Your lips quivered before a small sob escaped your mouth. You felt your eyes release a new wave of tears at her words of declaration, you wanted to believe her. You wanted to believe this could be fixed. Could it? 

Sad watery eyes met yours as you looked up at the girl in front of you. Her hands held your face. It was just you and her, staring at the other. This was the face you wanted to watch grow old. The face you wanted to wake up to everyday. The face you wanted to have by your side for the rest of your life. Now it almost felt like you were looking at a stranger.

Alexia placed her hand under your chin, moving your face to her own. Your body stiffened when you felt her lips press against your own. 

“No.” You whispered weakly as you pulled back.

“Please, don’t do this. I love you with all my heart. Please don’t let this break us.” The blonde whispered as she stroked your face. 

Alexia pulled back slightly to look at your face, her glassy eyes scanned your features, taking in every detail of you. You felt exposed. Completely open to her. It made you feel vulnerable. Alexia had been your world for so long. She made you feel real love for the first time. A love that made you feel protected, seen. 

“I love you.” 

Your brain screamed to run. Leave. Don’t let her fool you. This wasn't right, you knew it wasn't. But your heart didn't agree as you let her kiss you again. The kiss was everything you knew. Her lips were a safe blanket that you could wrap yourself around in. This was what you knew, how were you going to give this up? 

“I love you.” She whispered against your lips as she gently pushed you against the kitchen side. 

“Alexia-”

“Please. I can fix this.” She pleaded as her voice cracked with desperation. 

She leaned her forehead on yours, her body leaning more into you. She closed her eyes but the tears still managed to escape as they dropped on your t-shirt and seeped into the fabric. 

You didn't say anything. All the words you had ever known escaped your brain, leaving you empty. Everything you had planned, all the questions. Gone. You were more ready this time when her lips sunk into yours again, you even opened your mouth, allowing her to push a gentle tongue against yours. You could taste the salt from her tears that stained her lips. 

What were you doing? Why were you letting her in? 

Because you loved her, you loved her with everything you had. Because you were a fool.

Her mouth cascaded down from yours to your jaw, leaving hot kisses on your skin as she made her way down to your neck. You hated yourself when a small groan left your mouth, but it turned into a small whimper as another sob escaped you.

Run.

But you couldn’t, your heart was broken, you needed to feel something, you needed Alexia, she was the one that made everything better, she was the one you went to if you ever felt upset. She was your light. She was who you needed. You just wanted to feel loved even though this wasn't what love was.

Your hands gripped her shirt when she came back to your mouth, you weren't sure if you were going to push her or away or pull her closer. Her kisses grew more desperate once she heard the groan you made, thinking this was the only way to have you back. 

She easily moved you from the kitchen to the bedroom, all while her lips attacked your neck and mouth, making you gasp for air. Your mind was a blur, a blur of pain and hurt. A blur of confusion. 

Your head was throbbing from the headache you caused yourself from crying. You tried to ignore it like the way you ignored the voice in your head telling you to stop this. But you didn't listen.

“I love you. I love you. I can fix us.” Alexia kept chanting.

She laid you on the bed as she slowly removed your joggers. You felt the tears run down your puffy lips, as you reached out for her needing her close to you again. But you couldn't look at her. You couldn't bring yourself to look at the girl you loved and hated.

Both yours and Alexias lips were puffy and swollen from tears. You felt your lips split as you licked them, stinging your plump flesh, you tried to focus on it as Alexia connected your lips once more before she began to move down your body.

“You’re so beautiful. I love you so much, babita. Let me make you feel good.”

You felt your breath hitch as the blonde kissed on your stomach. The familiar feeling of her body pressing on yours grounded you more than you would have thought. You almost forgot about why you were crying. You nearly didn't feel the pain that sunk into every fiber of your body. Nearly.

Her hazel eyes looked up at you as she moved further down. But you looked away, you felt shame flood your chest as you allowed her to remove your underwear. 

“I love you.” She mumbled against your skin. 

You gasped as you felt her tongue swipe through your folds. Your eyes started to wet again as you felt her mouth on you. Her hands gripped at your thighs, pushing you open as she gently licked at your sex. 

You felt everything and nothing. Your body felt like it was on overdrive, wanting to feel Alexia, but wanting nothing to do with her at the same time. You just wanted to feel something. It was an absolute mind fuck. And yet you opened your legs further as the girl wrapped her lips around your clit. 

Alexia stroked your thighs as she used her mouth on you. She kissed your clit before sinking her tongue into your cunt. You felt the way she groaned, probably from tasting your essence as it melted on her tongue. Your own body betrayed you. 

Your thighs started to shake as you felt that familiar swirl start to wash over your body. Alexia could tell straight away. She grabbed your hands that would have normally sunk into her hair by now and placed them on her head. You looked down from the touch, Alexia’s eyes were puffy from crying. She looked at you with a look you didn't recognise. 

Was it regret? Was it hope? Was it guilt for being caught?

Your fingers flexed loosely in her hair as your thighs started to shake. Your orgasm was building but you could tell it wasn't the same, it felt like it didnt know where to go. Or why it was even there. But you let her finish, you let her suck and lick your bud until your body shook against the bed. Your orgasm trickled over your body, leaving you feeling worse than you did. Alexia stayed between your legs to clean you up. 

You felt your chest tighten and your throat close up as a wave of sadness pulled you down. When Alexia reached your face it felt like you were drowning, it must have been your own cries as you shuddered against the bed. 

“Baby, please. Please, I’m here.” 

You grabbed Alexia's hand and pushed it between your legs, you needed to feel something. You still wanted to feel her. You didn't want to feel this sadness that was taking over your body.

Anything. Please feel anything.

“Please.” You begged as you pulled her closer to kiss you.

“I’m here. I’m right here.” She whispered before your lips locked.

Alexia circled your clit a few times before she dipped a single finger into you. You let out a small groan, you could feel you were tight. She pumped her fingers as she kissed your neck, you tried to ignore the tears that fell from her eyes onto your skin.

You hissed as she pushed another finger in. 

“Ho sento. I’m sorry.” She pressed a kiss to your lips as she moved her fingers slowly. “I’m sorry.” 

You grabbed her shoulders as she started to open you up. Her eyes fixed on your face as you closed your own, trying your best to escape today's nightmare. 

“I love you, mi amor. I love you so much.” She mumbled into your neck.

Her fingers got deeper as she moved faster. You finally started to float away as you felt nothing but her inside you, putting all your focus on this one feeling. 

“I will marry you. I want you to have my babies. Please let me.” She started to cry as she fucked you. 

Before you could register what she was saying you let out a loud gasp when she pushed a third finger inside you, but she knew it wasn't a painful gasp. She knew your body, she knew you. Your head dipped back in the pillow as you felt your second orgasm start to rise. Your small whimpers gave you away to the girl above as your nails dug into her arms.

“That's it baby. You’re so good.” She peppered kisses all over your face as she encouraged you.

Your eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm fast apoached. Your thighs shook against Alexia's hips once her thumb began to circle your clit. You felt it. You felt something. other than sadness, just for a few seconds. 

“Don’t stop!’ You begged as your orgasm rushed over you.

“I’m here. I’m here.” Alexia coed at you.

You saw stars as your pussy clenched tightly around the thick fingers. Time stood still as everything went quiet. No voices in your head. No sadness that took over your senses. Your tears stopped for just a moment as you relaxed into the mattress. All the pressure that your body had taken was finally melting away. 

You winced a little as Alexia removed her fingers as gently as she could. You slumped back into the pillow, taking a deep breath of air. You stared at the ceiling before you felt the blonde slot herself next to you. 

“Turn around, amor.” Her breath ghosted the lose her on your neck.

 You slowly moved, you knew she wanted to hold you and you let her without question. 

Was this really your life? Was this really you?

Familiar hands started to stroke your hair. You could feel how stiff Alexia’s body was behind you, maybe she was scared to move in case she frightened you away. 

“I love you.” She whispered again.

You didn't respond. You felt her arm snaking around your side, her hand looking for your own. You didn't think before you gave her what she wanted, her thumb instantly stroked your knuckles. It wasn't long before your tired and sore eyes started to close. 

An hour later you woke up as Alexia stirred behind you, sleeping soundly. You moved as slowly as you could, creeping out the bed as lightly as you could. You grabbed your clothes that you had waiting on the side, along with your suitcase that Alexia missed when she pulled you into the bedroom.

You looked over at her sleeping form, her blonde hair splayed across the pillow, a small frown sat between her brows. She looked beautiful. You almost wanted to climb back in the bed. But you stayed strong. 

“I love you.” You whispered to your lover.

The tears started to form again, quickly falling over your cheeks. You felt sick as you carried your suitcase to the front door. What were you doing? Was this the right thing? Yes. She cheated on you! She’s broken your heart. She doesn't love you like you thought she did. Leave. 

You took a deep shuddery breath before you removed your engagement ring and left it on the side, with the keys to Alexia's apartment next to them. You took one last glance over your shoulder, the Christmas tree caught your eyes as it flickering in the corner. You gently shut the door behind you, a loud sob escaped you as you left everything you thought was your future behind you.

[chrollohearttags]

hard to breathe • portgas d. ace

seeing your ‘ex’ boyfriend ace one last time for closure..or so you thought. (based off of this song I’ve been obsessed with for months. It’s ‘old’ but I felt like it fit him and the vibe of this fic)

📝: black fem!reader, lots of relationship angst, modern au, heavy kissing, arguing + lots of dialogue, they’re slightly toxic ( y’all both ain’t shit I’m sorry 😭), riding, car sex, dirty talk, breeding, baby trapping (kinda), infidelity, hair pulling, pet names and daddy used, crying

wc: 4.1K

🎙️: I love writing my faves in a bunch of different scenarios, including ones that aren’t typical for their personality. This is in no way condoning toxicity, infidelity or anything of the sort. I just thought it would be a lil fun to experiment.

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“Where are you right now?”

“I should be with you..”

“You know that’s not a good idea..”

“Yeah, but it’s what we both want..who cares if it’s wrong or not?”

3:30am

the deep drawl on the other end of the line luring you in with each word..it always had a tendency to do so, even when you wished you could just ignore it.

“Ace, what the hell do you want from me? Stop this.”

“C’mon, babe. It’s the truth. Don’t tell me you’re feeling guilty..what did I tell you? You’ve got to stop giving so much a damn about what other people think.”

“Go to hell. Not everyone can just mistreat people like it’s nothing.”

it was a shame honestly..this type of behavior was so unbecoming of both of you. A sweet girl who didn’t like to make much of a fuss for anyone or over anything. And him, the shining example of a stand up guy. Charming, kind, helpful, a little rough around the edges but what every man should strive to be. Yet here you were..whispering into the speaker of your phone as to not wake the one in the room next to you. A mere replacement to dull the ache in your heart caused by him and his stupidity. Meanwhile, he was chuckling in your ear. Seemingly teasing you because he could sense the tension in your shaky voice. He knew you’d bolt the second you heard a ruffle from the other room…but he also knew you’d never hang up. Knew you couldn’t resist answering in the first place and for damn sure, that you couldn’t resist his offer…

“I want to see you. I can be at your place in ten..”

“Are you out of your fucking mind? It’s late, Ace..and—“

“And what? Afraid your little boyfriend might wake up? I know it’s not because you don’t want to see me either.”

“You’re a piece of work, you know that? How dare you? You ended things, Ace. Not me. So why the fuck do you keep hitting me up?”

the line would fall silent for a moment..only the shallow echoes of your breath captured on the opposite end. That was until you’d hear a sigh and his voice once more. This time with a much less arrogant tone.

“Listen, (y/n)..I get it. I fucked up..it’s my fault things turned out this way and I’m sorry. I know I can’t go back or change anything that happened between us but I can try to make it right. Even if it means someone else gets to do what I couldn’t…I just wanted a chance to apologize. In person…which I should’ve been man enough to do from the jump.”

the things in question? Your relationship..a bond of three years to be exact and a union everyone was certain would end in the two of you walking down the aisle. However, life has a funny way of throwing even the biggest of curveballs. This man had all but swept you off your feet one night a few summers ago..both out with friends and enjoying the night life as young singles should. Drinking, laughing and having a blast. Even though you were a bit more on the reserved side, he still managed to spot you out of all the beautiful women in that club that night. And trust, a fair share of them had been vying for his attention. Even so, he couldn’t focus on anyone but you. That was one of Ace’s many wonderful qualities. In a room full of people, he managed to make you feel special..as if you were the only one there. Which wasn’t exactly intentional..his biggest issue was that he tried to be friendly, trying his hardest not to hurt anyone’s feelings anymore. He struggled with his anger quite a bit when he was younger, taking next to nothing to set him off and if he was in the midst of conversation with one person, it was best that no one else tried to interrupt. However, he realized that only caused trouble so he always tried to greet someone regardless. It just didn’t fare very well when it came to women. No girl wants someone that it seems everyone can access to!

But alas, you sat in that section next to him; nursing your drinks and exchanging pleasantries. He was so easy to talk to. He had this awkward yet charming charisma about him. Almost as if despite his good looks, he wasn’t the ‘ladies man’ you’d peg him to be off first glance. Somehow though, he managed to get your number and the rest was history. You began hanging out, going on a couple dates..even spending a weekend together after a bad storm trapped the two of you inside of his apartment. You really enjoyed being around him and as time passed, the bond grew stronger. Six months later, you came over to visit and found yourself greeted by smoke and an obviously frustrated Ace covered in soot..a result of him attempting to cook a dinner to formally ask you to be his girlfriend! It was those goofy yet sweet gestures that made you adore him.

perfectly flawed was the best way to describe him in your book…maybe he made mistakes and maybe he didn’t come from this picturesque family but he was a damn good guy doing his best to be better than what he was used to. He was a hard worker and willing to fight for what he wanted.

You cherished every moment you guys got to spend together and at one point, you even got matching tattoos of half hearts on each of your hands..however, things began to crumble in the once ideal world you had curated together.

going from laughing all the time to petty arguments that seemed intentional. From spending late nights together..making love until the sun shines over your bodies..now you were blowing up his phone to see where he was. You began to suspect that he was cheating. Perhaps somewhere with another woman. But you were wrong..truth be told, he was running.

running away from a healthy home and relationship because he didn’t know how to handle it. Didn’t know how to process being loved unconditionally without expecting the worst to happen…he never figured himself to be good enough for you to begin with but here you were..constantly showering him with affection; buying him gifts, making his favorite meals and even surprising him with massages after long, stressful days at work. You were everything he didn’t deserve! Hence why..he felt the need to blow it up before it could escalate. He couldn’t let you continue treating someone like him as if he were special. Three weeks later, he texted you asking to break up and to say you were devastated? Was an understatement. You loved this man so damned much, you had already begun looking at wedding dresses and contemplating baby names, figuring you guys were in this for the long run. But fairy tales don’t exist and you weren’t getting the story book ending. Instead, you were left heartbroken..trying to piece yourself back together and figure out what went wrong.

“Just one last time, that’s all I’m asking. I want to say I’m sorry and then I’m out of your hair for good, I promise. I won’t bother you ever again..”

a solid compromise, you supposed. Besides, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to look him in his eye and tell him to go fuck himself for how he fumbled you. He’d plead, calling your name until he got a response and finally:

“I’ll be in the lobby, call me when you get here.” Before disconnecting the line and releasing a heavy sigh. You fought back tears but in order for the next chapter of your life to begin, you had to finish this one. But the funny thing about some books…

is that they refused to remain closed!

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page break bc I don’t do filler

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“..it’s nice to see you again. You look beautiful as always—“

“Enough of the small talk. State your business and make it quick.”

the two of you sat parked outside of your luxury apartment complex, downstairs in the desolate parking garage. Your arms folded across your chest in a defensive manner and his stretched across the steering wheel..that goofy snark on his face as he kissed his teeth. He knew you were fighting so hard to stand firm in your boundaries, something you struggled with in the past. And truthfully, he hated to disrupt that peace…but he was selfish, gluttonous even. He wasn’t always this nice guy everyone saw him as. He wanted to have his cake and eat it too and if that meant he’d leave your head a mess once again then so be it. A fucked up sentiment but the truth nonetheless..

“…damn. It's like that then? Fair enough..”

turning in his seat, Ace shifted and focused his attention directly on you. It was hard to maintain eye contact because how could he face you after such a betrayal? Even so, this was his bed he made and it was time to lie in it.

“The truth is...I was afraid. One day, you’d wake up and realize that I wasn’t what you thought I was. That I was broken and I didn’t have my shit together. It’s like no matter what I did in my life, I found a way to fuck it up. Make a mess of things..I’m not like you, (y/n). Honestly, what could you possibly see in me? Don’t you want someone who’s your equal?”

by this time, tears were beginning to swell in his eyes as well. The more he spoke, he realized that these feelings of insecurity were always within him. You promised yourself that you were just going to give him a piece of your mind, storm out and never have to see him again. But it was never that easy with this man.

you knew he was genuine and not just trying to victimize himself. He honestly felt like you could do so much better. But he also knew by the look in your eyes that you were not going to let him get away so easily.. You didn’t hate him, hell, you couldn’t even bring yourself to fully get angry with him for what he did. Looking down, Ace would begin to chuckle; a weird coping mechanism for him in times of stress and uttered the last words you wanted to hear.

“And after all this time, all the bullshit I put you through..you still love me, don’t you? That’s the only reason you’re still sitting here..the only reason you didn’t hang up. When you’re done with something, you never give it a second thought.” sitting cross armed, you’d begin to laugh. Not at his hurt but at the fact that for the first time in almost five years of knowing him, you saw him show genuine, raw emotion. You saw him finally let down his guard and be himself…as sad as it was, it was a bit cathartic.

“Wow…so you are capable of communicating your feelings and there isn’t a ten foot wall of bullshit in that head of yours.” Poking the side of his temple playfully..

“Of course I love you. I never stopped, you inconsiderate jackass. What did I ever do to you? That’s all I could ask myself. You keep talking about me deserving better and all of this bullshit..who gave you the right to decide what I wanted and what I deserve? Shouldn’t I have a say too? You left because it was easy, Ace. Instead of working through it with me, you ran because you don’t want anyone thinking you’re weak. That’s not how relationships work..we’re supposed to see each other at our worst, our best..good and bad days. If you feel insecure about anything, you did it to yourself because you were perfect to me and you know damn well I never made you feel anything less than.”

those words stung like none other. And honestly, no matter what he said, there wasn’t a good enough excuse for any of his behavior. You said it best..he was selfish, immature and didn’t think clearly. Ace had a knack for marching to the beat of his own drum and damn the consequences.

“..you’re right, (y/n). It’s my fault..and I can’t take any of it back…” suddenly, you’d feel his hand clutch the top of your own, intertwining your fingers as he stared you in the eye.

“..but I can try to fix it. Fix us..let me make this right. Please…if you’re happier with someone else, then there’s nothing I can do. But—“ In that moment, (y/n) had finally heard all that you could take. Reaching over the console, you’d clutch his face in your palm and shove your lips together. The sensation of that warm kiss sent a surge throughout your body..a spark you hadn’t felt since the day he left.

“Are you done? God, I swear you talk too damn much.” Prompting him to laugh as you held the side of his face. He was a little taken aback by your sudden dominance. Not knowing you to ever take control like this but he wasn’t mad about it one bit..

“..why’d you kiss me? What about your boyfriend?” A question as disrespectful as it was rhetorical.

“You’re as dumb as you are cute sometimes. You think I came all the way out here at three am to chit chat? Nut uh, you owe me..also, you’re a greedy bastard. No way you’re letting me go back in that apartment unless it’s with you." By this time, your hands were roaming his chest and your faces were only inches apart. His lips would curl into a sheepish grin before his palm snaked to the back of your neck, tugging your head towards him.

“..what can I say, babe? I’m just too damn stubborn..I always have to get my way.” And with that, you’d find your tongues joined together again. Twirling around one another with heavy whimpers mixed in. Suddenly, you’d find yourself crawling into the driver's seat and onto his lap. Just as you’d suspected, he’d worn those gray sweats you’d always loved to see him in and a black tank top to display his muscles, along with a newly acquired tattoo.

This man was not slick at all! Even so, his little tactic worked because all those memories of late nights and early mornings with him came rushing back. When you’d find yourself sneaking out on lunch breaks at work just to come eat his dick up or when he’d show up at your apartment around midnight because he’d work the closing shift again. With a bottle of wine and the intention of putting you through the mattress in every position after two glasses got you turned on. It was always exciting and spontaneous with Ace, something your ‘new man’ lacked. Slowly winding in his lap as you continued to make out, (y/n) caressed his torso..missing the familiar touch of his skin, taking in the scent of his cologne and immersing yourself in him. He’d run his thumbs across your throat, gently squeezing as you took his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You’re so beautiful..I missed you.” “Yeah? You missed me, baby?” Teasing him as you bounced your ass against his crotch, subtly twerking on his visible bulge. Caressing your gentle fingertips across his freshly shaven jawline. You could feel him growing harder underneath him and knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. Even kissing on his neck and licking on his jugular. “Mmmm..fuck. Pull that dress up and I’ll show you just how much.” Without a single bit of hesitation, you lifted the hem and allowed your bare cheeks and slit to graze him. Shuffling around underneath you, Ace slid his thumbs into the sides of those sweats, letting them pool around his waist. Meanwhile, he couldn’t stop marking your neck and lips with tender kisses..or apologizing for how stupid he was! Being here with you again brought back a flood of memories and emotions..ones that he never wanted to lose again. He needed this to be real once more. However, you weren’t much for talking right now..if he wanted to win his girl back, all you needed were actions.

“Why are you still talking? Just fuck the shit out of me before I grow a conscience and change my mind.” Your command being heard loud and clear; forcing him to grip your waist and balance you above that aching tip. Swollen red and seeping with precum, he was eager for you and that warm cunt was welcoming him in.

“Yes ma’am..whatever you say.” Following up his remark with a toothy smirk so you knew he was going to deliver and give you exactly what you were looking for. (Y/N) reclined against the steering wheel for a moment as he slowly infiltrated that entrance. That core drooling as he made home inside of you. Both of your heads fell backwards in a haze of pleasure…enjoying the all too familiar feeling of being one!

“Shiiit..why are so fucking tight? Oh my gosh..” those breathy moans and whines escaped his mouth the second he began thrusting. Not even two pumps in and he was trying to maintain his composure. With you though, he failed pretty quick. Reacclimating to the warmth that was your insides was going to be a challenge. Even so, he’d continue to guide you up and down on his shaft, letting that thick cock stretch open those wet folds.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Take this dick…just like that..” Meanwhile, (y/n)’s mouth fell ajar, overstimulated by the sensation already. You’d paw at his chest, holding onto him as he maneuvered you to his liking. Using your body like that of a flesh light. “’s so good. Missed this big fucking dick.” Hearing those words elicited another chuckle from Ace, prompting him to cradle the back of your neck in a dominant manner, pulling you close. “Yeah? Your little boyfriend ever fuck you like this?” Questioning through clenched teeth as he continued guiding your lower half..

those soft insides wrapping around him with each stroke. You’d then feel the tight clutch of his hand on the back of your head, tugging at those freshly styled wefts coursing down your back..he was aware of the minute fortune you spent each month to upkeep your beauty. From the thousand dollar hair appointments, nail salon visits and waxes..even so, he didn’t give a damn! Turning his gorgeous girl into a sloppy slut was his favorite pastime. A toothy grin on his face, watching your swollen tits bounce and drool seep from the corners of your mouth, along with the loud moans following suit.

“..I’ll take that as a no. You’re squeezing me like you haven’t come in ages, babe.” Those taunts harbored more truth than you’d care to admit. As shameful as it was to be cheating, you’d never be happy with someone who couldn’t give you a nut! Hypocritical as it was abhorrent, you too would never be satisfied until you got what you desired. And that desire was the guy slamming balls deep up inside of you at the moment. Pounding that sensitive little core..letting that fat mushroom tip split you open and begging for that sweet cunt to siphon him for every last drop of cum he had. “You’re fucking dripping..you must’ve needed this bad. Goddamn..” referring to the creamy release you had drizzling his cock. Making a mess of his lap. “Y—yeah..you’re the only one who can make me cream like this.” Cock drunk and giggling as he catapulted you up and down. The vehicle began to sway due to the heavy activity taking place and the windows also began to fog up as a result. That’s when you’d feel his palms colliding with your asscheeks, egging on your bouncing. It was in the midst of those heavy handed smacks that he’d begin pleading his remorse. Telling you how sorry he was for how he mistreated you. As cute as it was, you weren’t interested in any half assed apologies, but rather….

”…if you’re really sorry, you’ll nut in me. This is your pussy so act like it..” Uttering those words with a wide smile on your face whilst meeting his strokes with heavy bounces..nearly made Ace convulse. He loved when you spoke to him in such a domineering manner. You’d feel a sudden twitch inside of you and his hands guiding you as you slammed down on that cock. Your cheeks grazing the outer rim of the steering wheel..both of you so close to your peak that you’d claw into one another’s skin.

Covered in a sheen of sweat and saliva..begging the other to get you there and revealing all of your deepest confessions for one another..including the fact that he wanted you to be his forever and that you weren’t leaving this parking lot without him. You’d clearly chosen who you wanted to be with.

“…damn right it’s my pussy, princess. I don’t care who you bring home. You belong to me and I belong to you..no one else can come between that. Ever again.”

not to mention..you were begging for his cum yet again. You’d often divulge in the throes of pre-climatic bliss that you wanted to have his kid..be so full of his seed that there was no way you weren’t pregnant and Ace certainly had no objections to it. Maybe it was the sensation of being cream pied or the fact that you really wanted a family with him. Either way, he constantly fantasized about seeing you full with his seed; how adorable you’d look with a bump and he just couldn’t maintain his composure.

“Yes..please come in me. Want your baby—“ having to laugh again at how cute and pathetic you were becoming. But alas, there was no room for shame right now. You’d plead with your last breath to feel that womb stuffed again.

“That right, gorgeous? Does my pretty girl want me to get her pregnant?..” “Yes, nut in this fucking pussy, daddy. Please!” certainly a far cry from the headstrong woman who was yelling at him before. Now, you were reduced to a desperate little cumslut, pleading to be bred. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long. After experiencing your second orgasm in close succession, Ace would pin you down and force his cock up into you, going as fast as he could muster. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna take every drop. You’re going to have my baby and I’m going to take such good care of you both. Gonna marry you—be a better man this time around..” That soft flesh ricocheting as a result..loud grunts and curse words filling the car as he prepared to do the same to you.

“M fucking coming, babe! Hold still—shit!—“ in that moment, that orgasm would rip through his body and just as you requested, all of his warm seed coursed through your insides and didn’t stop for a solid two minutes..having not had a proper orgasm since you guys split up. He was still twitching inside of you, holding you to his chest as you both cried from how amazing it felt. Tears on both of your faces as a result of ecstasy.

“Damn, I guess I wasn’t the only one who needed that.” Teasing him amidst your cute giggles. Leaning up, (y/n) kissed the tip of his nose and caressed his cheek..unable to believe that you were here with him again. He’d gently stroke the side of your face as well..glaring at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

“I love you, (y/n)..so much. I never thought I’d get the chance to tell you that again. Feels so good.” And you shared his sentiment. He was the only one it ever felt genuine from and damn sure, the only guy you meant it to. Any guilt or shame had long since absolved and you knew this was exactly where you should’ve been. ”I love you too, Ace. I’m so glad you showed up.” It was going to be a long day, as you had some explaining to do. But for now..

“Shit..he’s calling me.”

“Ignore it..let me hold you a little bit longer, okay?”

you wanted to remain in this moment for as long as possible. After all, this is where you were happiest and there was no one who’d give you the high that he could.

[cupcakegirl3]

bsf!rafe helps his sweet girl (innocent!reader)

tw: watching porn, corruption kink, female masturbation

You knew what it was, of course you did. But watching it… It just seemed so gross.

“How else will you learn?” Rafe said, pushing the hair out of my face. “Come on sweetie just watch some with me, I’ll keep you safe right here.”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“I would never.” He said with a kiss to your cheek.

Rafe pulled it up on his laptop, setting it in his lap. He pulled you into his side, draping one of your legs over his middle. Your shorts rode up a bit but Rafe had said that all girls wore these types of shorts. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him.

You could feel the wetness down there already and it was embarrassing. Rafe had so much experience already and you hadn’t even kissed anyone.

The video started out tame. Just a video of a very beautiful woman making out with a man. Her shorts were just as short as yours and her tank top… Rafe had just bought you a tank top that looked just like that. He had even encouraged you to wear it today.

Heat pooled in your stomach as they began touching each other. The man grabbed the woman’s… intimate parts through her shorts. Her hips started moving and she was gasping into his mouth.

When the intercourse started, you couldn’t help but grind your hips against Rafe’s huge thigh. He didn’t seem to notice your slight movements but as the video went on they got more and more desperate.

The layers in between your pussy and his thigh began to be too much and you let out a small—but noticeable— whine.

Rafes hand began stroking your back, fingers dipping under the fabric of your white shirt. “Video making you feel some way?”

“I don’t know Rafey… I just feel so hot.”

“Why don’t you touch yourself sweetie?”

“Touch…touch myself?”

“Yeah, it’ll make you feel better.”

“I don’t know how.”

He laughed sitting up and pulling you with him. “I gotta teach you everything don’t I?” You bit your lip and pulled your gaze away from him. The moans from the video still filled the room and the heat growing was still present. His rough fingers grabbed your chin, pulling you to look back up at him.

“I’ll teach ya, baby? Would you like that?”

“But Rafey… you’ll—see me?”

“Hey, it’s just a friend helping a friend right?”

“I um guess so.”

“Quit worryin’ so damn much.” He sat up more, moving the laptop to the center of the bed. He clicked on a new video, this time it started out with both of them naked. The girl was on her knees in front of the man and he…

“Rafey? Do guys really slap girls during sex?”

He smirked, “Only the ones they like. Now are you gonna listen to me?”

You bit your lip and nodded. “Alright honey, lay back on my pillows.”

You did as he said but your eyes flickered to the video. The man’s fingers were now sliding in and out of the woman’s mouth. Drool was spilling out the side of her mouth.

Before you could think, your own fingers slid up your mouth. You collected your cherry chapstick you wore before pushing two of your digits into your mouth.

Rafe let out a noise that you couldn’t quite place and your eyes went back to him. He shook his head and leaned towards you.

You let out a shaky breath as your body’s pressed together but… Rafe was merely getting his cigarettes from the side table.

Your fingers slowly worked their way in and out of your mouth and fuck…it felt so good. Your brain was starting to go fuzzy as Rafe lit the cigarette.

“To really touch yourself, you gotta be naked.”

Your heart started beating uncomfortably fast in your throat as you took your fingers out. “O-Ok Rafe.”

Your hands shook as you slipped your top and shorts off, leaving you in your panties and lacy bralette. The couple in the video had now begun to make love…but harder than you thought possible. The man was slamming into the woman and she was screaming with pleasure.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

“Okay Rafe.”

You couldn’t ignore the feeling pooling in you as you took off my bra and panties. Rafe kept smoking but his eyes were on you . He adjusted himself, sitting on his knees in front of your open legs.

This is what friends did right? You had never had friends like this, or a guy friend. Rafe always helped you though ever since you moved to your new school. He was your best friend.

“Now sweetie, you have to listen to everything I am gonna say. You know I hate repeating myself.” You nodded at him, wanting nothing more than to bring your fingers back to your lips.

“Take those two fingers that were into your mouth onto your pussy, spread it open for me.”

You moaned at the slight touch to your weeping pussy. You did as he said, pulling apart your fingers to present your pussy to him.

“Start rubbing yourself now.”

Small gasps and whiny moans left your lips as you lightly rubbed yourself. You pressed down further, feeling a small bud that felt so fucking good to touch. “Rafey.” You moaned out your other hand reaching out to touch him but he was too far away.

“Keep going.”

His face was hard but his eyes never left you. You kept rubbing and rubbing that spot until you felt close to breaking. “Rafe, Rafe. Rafey.” You chanted. “It feels–” Tears began spilling out of your eyes as you chased the feeling.

“Keep chasing it sweetie, you’re gonna cum.”

Your orgasm hit you like a train. You could barely register Rafes hands keeping your thighs apart as your eyes screwed shut. Your legs shook as you came down but Rafes strong grip held them.

When you finally opened your eyes, Rafes were glued to your pussy. You tried to shut your legs but he wouldn't let you.

“Tell me how it felt.”

“Rafe?”

“Tell me.”

Your throat was dry from your moans but you swallowed and tried to speak. “It felt um.. Really good Rafey.”

“Yeah?” His hands began tracing circles on your bare thighs.

“Can I um… put my clothes back on?”

“Aren't you more comfy like this honey? Don’t want you to be uncomfortable now.” Rafe leaned forward, wiping the tears from your face. “Always such a little crybaby aren't ya? Always fucking crying even when it feels good huh? And who’s always there to wipe your tears?”

“You Rafey?”

“Give me a little kiss then.”

You lightly pecked his coarse lips. He had always wanted little kisses like that. He said all friends did it.

“We’ll have to do that again now won’t we?”

thx for reading <33

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

hi!! I had an idea for a funny/ prank type fic for frat boy jaehyun!! It’s that one trend where the girl talks about getting a wax appointment (or some other appointment) after a really long time and plays it off as a guy waxes her which usually gets the significant other really confused thinking “a guy waxes you..?” I HOPE U KNOW WHAT I MEAN 😭😭 have a good day💞💞

anoooooon!!! THANK YOU FOR THIS IDEA!!!!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ what do you mean, he? ⋆⭒˚.⋆

(cw: f!reader, TikTok trend, profanity sugestive, Jaehyun is such a fucking loser (affectionate) in this)

where the girl talks about getting a wax appointment (or some other appointment) after a really long time and plays it off as a guy waxes her which usually gets the significant other really confused thinking “a guy waxes you..?”

"Oh baby!" You sing as you push that door open to Fratboy!Jaehyun's room.

It's a handful of days before his birthday now and all week you've been doing the prep you need for a very romantic and heated night with your own Valentine Boy. You'd gotten your nails done, been doing face masks, done a few hair masks, gotten your eyebrows done, and finally today, "guess who got her coochie waxed!"

Your exclamation is met with a "hell yeah!" from down the hall and a flushed Jaehyun scrambling away from his desk to shut the door behind you.

"Ok, love the news, love the mental image, but what did we say about announcing things like that around here?" Jaehyun asks with rosy cheeks.

"But you guys talk about your dicks and balls all the time, why can't you hear about my coochie?"

"Trust me Sweets, I want to hear about her day and night, but I don't want everyone else to hear about her," Jaehyun chuckles while pressing a kiss on your cheek.

You throw yourself onto his bed, turning to watch him settle back into his chair. He rubs your calf softly, "how was it?"

"Hurt like a bitch, but I'm getting used to it. Ash is pretty good about soothing the pain and has good tips for aftercare and all that," you explain.

"Ash? Didn't you used to go to a Jane or something?"

You smile at him, finding it endearing that he listens to what others would consider to be useless details, "yeah, but Jane is on maternity leave, so now I'm seeing Ash. He's good too—"

"He?!" Jaehyun exclaims with his eyes wide with shock.

"Um, yes, he. Is that a problem?" You ask with a confused tilt of your head.

"A guy waxes you, Sweetheart?"

"What is so confusing about this? Yes, my waxer, Ash, is a guy." You state, still not understanding what his incessant questioning is about.

"Sweetheart, another guy is looking at your... lady bits. Like all up and intimate up there while you're probably like spread eagle and showing yourself to him. Shouldn't you only be like that for me?" He asks, speaking slowly and softly in the hopes that you'll understand his point of view better now.

You roll your eyes and push his hand off your leg, "Ash is a 50 something year old gay man who is married and talks about the recipes he most recently made while he's ripping hair out of my 'lady bits'. Can I make it any more clear that he's not interested and more importantly, I'm not either!"

You stand from the bed, throwing your hands up as you continue, "I mean, hello! I got waxed for you! For your birthday! Duh!"

"You know I don't need you to do anything like that. I'm sorry Sweetheart," Jaehyun apologizes, grabbing your hips and tugging you closer to him until he can nuzzle his head against your stomach, "I just went a little crazy thinking about another guy looking at my girl..."

"Your girl? Jae, guys look at me all the time—" you say with a look of confusion until you're interrupted by a single finger against your lips.

"Not you, my girl," Jaehyun mumbles, dragging his finger down from your lips to the waistband of your pants, "her my girl."

You push his head away with a scoff, "oh fuck off, Jaehyun. Coochie privileges revoked until your birthday."

"Damn..."

[jumiinx]

comfortable liar ;; caitvi x reader 𝜗𝜚

cw: modern!au, toxic!vi, toxic!reader, very angsty, a lil bit of smut, love triangle? men and minors dni.

wc: 991

you were too attached, you knew it. 

vi had been in your life for a few months now, having you sneak into her dorm when she texted. not that you minded of course, because during those few hours in the night, she made you feel special. 

the way her tongue and fingers felt against your skin made you feel alive. her words were like honey, and you kept coming back for more.

it was after another night of debauchery that you were in the showers, rinsing your face, wiping off your smeared lip gloss. 

you were too busy brushing your teeth to notice vi’s roommate, caitlyn, stepping out of the shower, a towel wrapped around her slim body. 

“oh shit, did i steal the hot water?” you murmur, spitting out the toothpaste. you glance up at her through the mirror. you ignored the way her pupils dilated. 

her navy hair was damp, her sharp eyes meeting your gaze. “no, not at all.” her lips quirked up, her footsteps light as she set her shower bag at the sink next to yours. 

it was quiet for a moment, until caitlyn sighed, staring for just a moment too long.

“are you staying over tonight?” she asks, her tone clipped.

you blink, the ache of loneliness spreading through your bones. “no, vi left.” you mumble. “something about a bar.” you tried to sound like you didn’t care. 

you didn’t care when she got dressed with you still under her sheets.

you didn’t care when she tossed you a towel to clean up the mess from between your legs.

you didn’t care when she said you could let yourself out of her room.

she hums, biting her cheek in contemplation. a moment of weakness. 

“why do you keep going back to her?” she says, finally turning to face you, her eyebrows furrowed in silent frustration. it was hard to be quiet about her longing.

you stiffen, eyes flickering down to the sink to avoid her. 

your lips part, but close once more, the ache in your chest growing. 

“i like the chase.” you mutter, feeling ashamed of yourself. you had an easy option, and yet you always chose the hard one. every time. 

you finally face her, having to look up to meet her intense blue eyes. 

you notice the torment in her gaze, the pain of having to watch you be fucked over by her roommate. she doesn’t break eye contact. 

the ache spreads, infecting your bloodstream. it was hollowing, the urge to be loved, to be wanted was too strong to ignore. 

𝜗𝜚 

you had met caitlyn the first time you were with vi. you had seen her around campus before, but you were too intimidated to talk to her. vi had told you that she always studied late, and so you didn’t have to worry about being caught.

after waking up alone, you found yourself crying, even though you knew what to expect. vi had made it very clear she wasn’t the type to stay, wasn’t the type to cuddle with you until breakfast.

caitlyn woke up to your sobs, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. you tried to be quiet, and you apologized for waking her up. 

she waved off your apology and sat next to you, wrapping an arm around you and letting you cry into her shoulder. she ignored the tears dampening her expensive nightgown. caitlyn wiped the tears from your cheeks, admiring the beauty of your features. she had reassured you that you were worth more and that you deserved more.

and so you stayed, talking with her. it was what you needed, and she enjoyed listening to your voice.

it became a routine. 

vi had you scream her name. your thighs were around her shoulders, her tongue eliciting moans from your lips as you rode her face. her nose brushed against your clit, making your legs shudder. your hands grasped at her pink hair. she snickered from between your legs. 

she would go out with her friends afterwards, but not before leaving hickeys on your inner thighs. 

you would clean up, but you would purposefully stay too long. caitlyn would come back, setting her books down and going to your side. she would kiss your forehead and rub your back as you laid in her arms, filling the hole that vi had left. 

she had grown attached, and she knew it. 

𝜗𝜚

“you’re chasing the wrong person.” she says, a strand of her damp hair slips from behind her ear. her breath hitches when you reach up and tuck it back into place. “i can’t keep picking up the pieces.”

your index brushes against her cheek, tracing the smooth skin.

“i know.” your voice is hushed. “i’m sorry i can’t give you what you want. i’m sorry that i used you.” your hand drops to your side once more, only to be grasped by her own, her fingers around your wrist.

her jaw was tense, her grasp was tight, but you knew you could walk away if you wanted to. she would let you.

“don’t.” caitlyn whispers, her manicured nails digging into your wrist. “she doesn’t love you, not like i do.” but you knew that.

it was silent again.

“vi doesn’t care about you," caitlyn says, gazing at your lips with need. "she never will.” a grimace, almost regretting letting the words leave her lips.

your lips meet, with you leaning up first, if only to shut her up. 

“she’s probably knuckle deep in another woman right now-” caitlyn murmurs between the sloppy kisses, knowing that her words were working.

“stop talking.” your fingers pull her closer, tangling themselves in her navy locks. your tongues meet, fighting each other. a low groan escapes your lips as she pushes you against the sink, taking over. letting out her desperation.

her nimble fingers grip your hips, her other hand going to grab the back of your neck. like she owned you. 

in her mind, she did.

[fishiefishieluvr]

🍎🐶 caleb relationship headcanons🍎🐶

my heart is now shared by both rafayel and caleb so i had to succumb to my desires and write headcanons for our favorite colonel… forgive me these are a bit rushed i wrote it in like 20 minutes i’ve been thinking about him waaaayyy too much!

a/n: i tried to make it gender neutral as possible. warnings for nsfw content, implied obsessive / yandere tendencies, alcohol mention, that’s all i can think… enjoy!!

———

♡ — literally will drop almost anything he’s doing when he gets a text from you, whether it’s just simply chatting about your day or a new interest, or — better yet, inviting him over — he always responds and makes time for you.

♡ — even after graduating and heading off to the DAA, he still felt… intertwined, to say the least with you. as mentioned before, even in the brief absences between texts and phone calls, i feel like caleb definitely is the type to somewhat feel or understand what you’re feeling even while away. oh? you’re sad and depressed? that explains why caleb has been having kind of a shitty day without even knowing.

♡ — constantly fiddles with the necklace you had gifted him. it’s a habit, practically second nature to him. it especially helps him when his nerves are in overdrive.

♡ — this isn’t even a headcanon but gooood god did it piss him off somewhat when girls fawned over him. it wasn’t the girl's faults and he can’t really blame them it's just….. his heart has been dead set on you since the beginning. the only attention he thrives on is yours, whatever sort of attention even.

♡ — snuck one of your plushies away with him when he went off to pilots academy. he stashes it away whenever one of his guy friends (cause caleb never allows any girls in his dorm who aren’t you lol) stops by. he’s even freakier too, practically bathing it secretly in your perfume or body spray before he sneaks off to pack. it’s safe to say he sleeps with it almost every night.

♡ — when you do finally meet again whether during holidays or after he graduates, he sticks by your side almost constantly. regardless! he is respectful of your boundaries and will immediately retreat away if you seem even the slightest bit uncomfortable by it (that’s not to say he won’t sulk a bit. but he’ll do it in the comfort of privacy).

♡ — loves to cuddle and embrace you, fucking thrives on that shit. pre-relationship and growing up wise he snuck what he could from long and warm embraces, nights spooning you on the couch or in his bed, and little forehead kisses… even holding your hand causes his pulse to quicken and his cheeks to turn a rosy hue.

♡ — you thought he was clingy pre relationship? ohhhhh boy it’s increased tenfold when you both finally confess feelings. he feels physically and emotionally unwell when without you for a certain period of time. he only feels the slightest bit better when he goes on week to month(s) long missions as colonel once you finally relent and move in with him. coming back to you, his anchor, his home, his heart… his everything. it makes it all so worth it.

♡ — speaking of this man definitely spoils you in every aspect. i just know he gets paid so damn well so he spends all his earnings on you. don’t mention something that caught your eye even in passing because next thing you know it’s in your hands either the next day or a week later.

♡ — i believe without a doubt that caleb is the type to have planned on getting married to you the second he realized his feelings for you. why else would he chase off anyone who sought your heart if he wasn’t planning on a future entirely with just you and him (and some little ones. but not relevant rn!)? whatever sort of wedding you wanted, he’d give you in a heartbeat. proposes to you for sure pretty early on, which isn’t all that surprising seeing as you spent your entire lives together.

♡ — the bane of his existence is the nights you decide to go out with friends. regardless if drinks are involved, caleb insists on picking you up at the end of the night. and if a sleepover is in the works? oh he’s so pouty about it… i think there are a select few people who he trusts with your safety (even though you insist you’re grown enough to defend yourself), one of them is definitely tara. so yaaay! every now and then you can have a peaceful girls night ^^

now onto the nsfw part :o

♡ — i’m the biggest virgin caleb supporter ever. i agree that he’d read up and study on how to perfect his first time (and potentially yours if you’re losing it too). he definitely is pathetic though in my eyes and doesn’t last very long at all despite his long studying, cums under a minute whether it’s from oral or inside of you. prepare to comfort him because he will feel slightly pathetic about it…

♡ — finds comfort in rutting against your thigh, your ass, you name it! puppy caleb is so real… he’d whimper in your ear, breath hot against your skin, practically drooling as he warns you of his impending orgasm.

♡ — on the nights where his duty as colonel is far too exhausting, he definitely thoroughly enjoys cockwarming. after being apart from you for soooo long and even after work duties, he just needs to be connected and intertwined with you. there’s no work to be done so long as he has you in his arms and he’s inside of you in some shape or form.

♡ — gets fucked-out and drunk off of you way too easily. again with the first headcanon, he cums in his pants just from witnessing your pleasure. anything with you will get him off.

♡ — caleb definitely is the type to experiment with you. his only no-no’s are stuff that could risk seriously rendering you injured. choking? absolutely, that’s fine! just nothing too extreme. gun play? gets off sooo much watching the barrel of his gun in your mouth, no bullets inside, of course! he’s not picky, your pleasure is his pleasure, after all.

[starcharmed]

୨ৎ .ᐟ.ᐟ - unnecessary feedback

summary : sukuna might be an asshole but at least he's nice (sometimes) ◞ cw : modern au, some playfully mean comments, cursing, 1 (one) suggestive comment (it's sukuna c'mon), abuse of commas, word rot no.3 ◞ wc : 0.5k+

“The fuck are you doing?” Your boyfriend’s sweet and kind and caring tone reached your ears as you squared your shoulders up and tilted back the notebook to block out a view he could still see at his height. 

“Nothin’.” Sliding from his gaze, you rubbed your fingertips across the abnormally unmessy sketch across the page, “You wouldn’t even be interested in this anyways.” Okay, you deserved that eyebrow raise but it wasn’t completely false. Sukuna hardly looked at your art whenever you were working, maybe it’s because he figured you didn’t like to be perceived while working. 

“If you sat there for ten fucking minutes staring at me like I grew four arms or something, then it’s not nothin’”, pitching his voice to mock your tone, Sukuna tried swiping at your notebook, “Let me see.”

“No, you freak.” Raising your notebook up in the air was a pointless move. Overestimating your physical prowess against Sukuna all of people, you let go once his hand grasped the notebook. You’d rather have him see than tear the entire thing in half trying to squabble with him. 

“Sukuna, please, they look horrible and I didn’t even draw your nose right and it’s bad-”

He was going to kill you (ignore you for about ten minutes until he wanted attention), then hide your body in the basement (you don’t even have a basement), and tell the police that it was your weird neighbour Satoru (he looks like a guy that would hide bodies, to be honest). 

“They’re not bad.” Oh my god you were living with a döppelganger. 

You winced at the uneasy tapping of the notebook upon the top of your head, “I mean it, dumbass. They look fine. You’d know if I was lying, anyways.” You would. Sukuna sugarcoating anything was as possible as diamond rain on Earth. 

Sukuna let you grab your notebook again, making a face when your lead-smudged fingers left an ant sized stian on his hand. You muttered a half-hearted thanks for the returnal of your lifeline, watching him rub his hands against his charcoal black hoodie. Did he even know that he was just smearing the lead against his hand further? He probably didn’t care.

“You were right about my nose, though.” Here we go.

“It’s the angle”, poor defense but not a lie. It was not that easy to capture the full structure of his nose at a sideways downwards tilted type of angle. 

Sukuna snorted, the displeasing noise earning a scrunched up nose from yourself, “You’ve seen my nose from plenty of angles. Especially at a downwards view.”

“That’s why it’s a sketch!” Practically screeching out the words fastly you hoped to save yourself some face, “Get out of my room you hoe.” Discarding your notebook someone amongst the mountains of throw blankets upon your bed, pushing Sukuna out of your shared bedroom was harder than moving, well, a mountain.

“You’re so weird”, grabbing your hands, Sukuna stopped your movements flawlessly, “Very weird. Why am I dating you again?”

“Because you love me?” You wished you could verbally add more question marks without seemingly speaking oddly. 

“No, I hate you.”

“What the fuck? Die.” Cringing away from the kiss on top of your head, you felt the urge to draw him as ugly as possible.

Wait…maybe you should draw him with four arms next.

[xylatox]

Finally getting to read the other fics of this event!!Another Raya fic and it's Choi Beomgyu no less, going to fight for my life (bias wrecker Gyu 😭). I am of course, very excited.

Writing this sentence after I fixed up the review and holy moly, I'm sorry it's so long!

I absolutely love a good red string au, it taps into my romantic side so bad. The rules are simple: the second your eyes meet theirs, a delicate crimson thread will wrap and tug around your ring finger, stretching across, tied to the one who is destined to love you. — like this is exactly why I love this trope, to be destined to have someone to love and receive love from in such an unconditional way just puts me at ease.

The universe doesn’t make mistakes. And yet, your hands remained... stringless.— of course for right now that isn't the case for reader :( but I'm looking forward to how this will unravel.

How does love do that? How does it make someone shine like they’re carrying sunlight beneath their skin? Like just standing beside the right person is enough to set them alight? — I feel like Raya took my thoughts here, especially the first line😭 like how does love do that. I've always seen love where it seems more one-sided, falls apart later down or doesn't seem to exist in hard times, so I've always wanted/wondered of the existence of such an unconditional type of love.

"That's… weird, right?" The first girl tilts her head, genuinely puzzled. "I mean, we sat through those lectures together. Didn’t the studies say most people find their soulmate before twenty-five? That’s what the records say." — that's so, uncalled for😭 like as reader said she's just pointing out a fact but damn, maybe I'm a bit to sensitive lmfao.

Raya's change in POV will always be my favorite transition and I will die on that hill. It brings back memories of The Last Safe Place which was ironically also an idol!Gyu fic. I love that without fail, amidst the business, Gyu always wishes to meet reader, it's so sweet.

I love that the doctor reassures reader and the concept of there being therapy for things like this warms my heart. Lee Heesung cameo omg I did not expect this (so I love with him ugh). It's so disheartening tho that the reaction to idols having soulmates seems possible and that hurts, like theyre people too yknow?

“Come on, Y/N.” She grabs your arm, shaking it dramatically. “Look at me. I have a soulmate, and I still thirst over Tomorrow X Together.” — I love Da-hee so much, she's so real for this. I do love that reader isn't a MOA though, it somehow makes her future bond with Gyu even sweeter. And the fact that reader unknowingly picks Gyu's picket😭😭😭 they are so destined and her getting his photocard further solidifies it I'm going to fucking sob.

A tall man—easily the tallest—moves toward your section, waving with an easy smile, deep dimples carving into his soft-looking cheeks. It reminds you of bread. The warmth of it is infectious, and before you even realise it, you're waving back, grinning at someone whose name you didn’t even know this morning. — Soobin :(((( I'm going to sob this is so cute, it makes me so excited

And they have the bond ugh😭😭😭😭😭I'm going to throw up😭😭😭 — Everything else fades. The crowd, the shake of Da-hee beside you, even the music that was supposed to be loud. All that’s left is the pull—a red thread stretching between, searing itself into your vision, blinding in its intensity—demanding to be seen. — oh my god ugh.

I love that this POV change goes a bit before the moment and we see the boys thoughts on everything pertaining to soulmates and how hard it is for them as idols to deal with that considering society's response.

God, I love Gyu's entire reaction to them being soulmates, it's so endearing. Thin, and so impossibly red. A string stretched between, glowing faintly under the stage lights. He looks down at his hand—at his ring finger— it's tied there. His eyes trace its path. To you. His chest tightens. — this is so cute and I love how it makes him nervous for the concert now :(((.

He waves again, but this time, it’s for you. Directly. You tilt your head, hesitant, and then—an unsure wave back. It’s so small, so subtle, but it makes him smile. His grin spreads before he can think twice. — this is so cute I'll pass out. Him and reader are so cute your honor, I love them do much like the interactions are so cute I genuinely have no other words.

Love that Soobin kinda realizes something was up in the moment and ahhh :((( Gyu asking him I'll cry. I love that Da-hee is that supportive if a friend that she's so moved to cry for you (like same) but it's so endearing how much their friendship means to them.

Their first interaction:(( I feel so damn soft—"So, uh, hi?" Beomgyu says, and it pulls a laugh from you. His heart stumbles over itself at the sound, warmth blooming in his chest. It’s ridiculous, really, how easily you affect him.—god they're so awkward I love it :(( I think they're so cute I want to keep them in my pocket. I just love the idea of them not knowing anything about each other especially since ready wasn't a fan before so it feels so much more genuine.

The message he sends her after😭😭 I was wondering the significance behind the 315 roses and then I just fucking sobbed oh my god, may this kind of love find everyone😭 I'm so giggly lol, I love how cute Gyu reacts when she sends him a message during live God this is adorable.

Yall really do love causing me pain huh? Some people really are insane like, going that length to harass Gyu's soulmate??? Like he's glowing and happy let them live :(( The angst has fully kicked in and the only thing I feel is sick but best girl Da-hee coming to the rescue, she's such an empathic friend I actually love her so much, she's such a well written character.

I actually love how it was discussed from Gyu's perspective with everyone. Like their manager assuming reader asked him to choose when she in fact rather sacrifice the relationship for his job shows how much she loves him and the fact that he would trade it all for her is so heartwarming. "Because your words could never hurt me as much as your leaving does." — may this love find us wtf. I've been told before that my words will push people away (even if I'm being honest with no intention to hurt) and often times voicing your opinion or just trying to do the best for others comes off differently to them, but I hope everyone is able to receive a response like this in their life. To be loved really is an amazing thing.

Trying to go out my comfort zone this year and comment on smut because I always get shy/embarrassed but oh my god —Beomgyu's eyes never left yours as his fingers found your hand, seeking the place where the string was tied. The red thread appears, and he lifts it to his lips. A kiss—featherlight, reverent—pressed against the place where destiny tied you to him. — this is absolutely everything.

“I love you,” he murmured as he positioned himself, slowly sliding into you. A low, guttural sound escaped him as he felt you, tight and warm, pulling him deeper. He's sure he'll come right there and then. His face buried itself in the curve of your neck, and his words spilled out—"I'm sorry it took this long." — Raya, I AM GOING SO INSANE RN, running laps in my head rn.

He's so reassuring to reader too, that's so hot oh my god. —Because now, in his arms, with his lips claiming yours over and over, only pulls away when breathing becomes a necessity—his forehead pressing against yours for a fleeting second before his mouth finds yours again, as if letting go for too long might break him, you realise the truth—it was foolish of you to think that pushing him away would solve it all. — brb crying my eyes out again.

The moment I saw the title of the fic oh my god, my chest tightened, I gasped and a tear fell. I always love when titles are integrated into fics with significance like this.

I love that they met each others parents and reader and Da-hee met the members it's so cute, and reader using Gyu's nickname that his dad used omg crying.

Maybe in another world, the sky is burning, the world is ending, an apocalypse, and he still falls in love with you. Maybe in another life, he is a man undone, a husband who shatters more than he mends, but even then, he would spend eternity piecing himself back together just to be worthy of you.— Raya this caught me so off guard that I am sobbing so hard, a reference to The Last Safe Place and The Slow Surrender, you are absolutely insane oh my god.

This was so good Raya omg😭😭 I will always be so happy that ive read every fic you've published thus far and I always love to see how you'd grow with each fic and you never fail to surprise me, I absolutely loved this.

RAIN LILIES

pairing: soulmate idol choi beomgyu x soulmate fem!reader

Sitting at parties surrounded by lovers, a silent third wheel at movie nights, the friend holding the camera at weddings—your hands are always... alone in the spaces where others are full.

Were you an error in the grand scheme? An anomaly? A glitch in the unforgiving script? Or maybe, he simply doesn’t really… exist.

That’s how you ended up here, standing beside your korean-pop-obsessed friend who practically dragged you out and swore you’d love the show. It all became a blur when your eyes met his.

He’s on stage, gripping the mic impossibly still, staring down back at you like he feels it too.

He shouldn’t be real.

warnings: red-string au, strangers to lovers, reader is two years older, normal society norms, waiting, anxiety, doubts, sasaengs, insecurities, hasty decisions, drunk-in-love beomgyu. pov switching. everything written is a work of fiction. let me know if I missed anything.

smut-warnings: MDNI, explicit-descriptions, missionary, fingering, oral!fem receiving, dom beomgyu.

wc: 20k — playlist.

notes: fighting both my delulu and my demons while writing this. 😭 Might just be the fic I enjoyed writing the most—I hope you love it just as much! so glad to be part of this beautiful event. a big thank you to @killa-1009 for beta reading this. ilysm.

1/5 part of the valentine event with talented moas! see the full masterlist here.

If fate promised you something so certain, how could you not long for it?

Since childhood, you’ve heard the stories. The way people speak in hushed voices, weaving fate into riddles, how somewhere out there, it's waiting—a single red string, unseen until the exact moment it’s meant to appear.

The rules are simple: the second your eyes meet theirs, a delicate crimson thread will wrap and tug around your ring finger, stretching across, tied to the one who is destined to love you.

You watched it happen to everyone else. From playground giggles in elementary school to whispered confessions in high school hallways, to late-night talks in college dorm rooms. You listened as your friends spoke about finding their own soulmates, the feeling—the pull, the process. It's everywhere. In the way, your parents fit together like pages of the same story. On the way your younger sister—still so new to the world found her match.

When you’re told your whole life that destiny is waiting for you, how could you not ache for it?

The universe doesn’t make mistakes. And yet, your hands remained... stringless.

And now you wonder if it did—with you.

"One, two, three, smile!"

You press the shutter, capturing the way they look at each other. You lower the camera, but they don’t even notice—they’re too caught up in their own little world, whispering sentences only they’ll ever understand. They laugh, eyes soft, bodies leaning in just a little closer.

How does love do that? How does it make someone shine like they’re carrying sunlight beneath their skin? Like just standing beside the right person is enough to set them alight?

And why, no matter how long you wait, does that light never seem to find you?

There are days you curse it—this cruel design, this aching uncertain certainty. You tell yourself it would be easier not to know, to live without the quiet hope that somewhere, someone is meant to find you, or that fate had already written your name beside someone else’s.

And then there are days you fear it.

What if they don’t want to find you? What if that’s why you’re still alone? What if they got it wrong, skipped over your name, and he simply… doesn’t exist?

You're an anomaly. A glitch in the well-made script.

You lost count of how many times you wished it was never made this way. That love shouldn’t be a promise. Yet in the deepest hours of the night, you found yourself—gasping, trembling, and sobbing to your palms. The feeling of—

How can you miss someone you've never met?

You want to reach for a hand you’ve never held. You long for a voice you’ve never heard, a scent you’ve never breathed, a shadow you’ve never chased. And more than anything, you wish you had a name to whisper, to give you hope.

You swallow, forcing a smile as you turn back to the couple. "Congratulations," you say, "It’s a beautiful wedding."

"Thank you, Y/N!" Ha-rin squeals, practically glowing as she steps forward to hug you. "And thank you for being our photographer—I know you must be busy."

"You’re welcome," you reply, adjusting your camera strap. "It’s what I do, after all."

Ju-won steps in then, reaching for Ha-rin’s hand like he can’t stand even a moment of space between them. "Thank you, Y/N," he says, his eyes never straying far from his wife.

They were your high school classmates. You remember the day they met—first year, first morning, when their eyes met across the classroom, and just like that, the red string appeared. They grew together, from awkward introductions to effortless friendship, and now, here they were, husband and wife.

A picture of everything the universe had promised them.

Ju-won leans in, pressing a kiss to Ha-rin’s cheek like it’s the first time, like they haven’t spent years by each other’s side. The look in their eyes is so easy, so full of love, that you have to look away.

You can't look.

"Uh, I’ll get some drinks," you say, forcing a smile that feels as out of place as you do. You don’t wait for a response. You just turn, your heels clicking against the polished floor, head spinning as you try to count how many weddings you’ve attended this year.

Or no. You’ve lost count.

Everyone you grew up with—your friends, your classmates—have already found their soulmates. Most are married now, some already raising children.

Your heels dig into your feet with each hurried step, but you don’t slow down. You just keep moving, past everyone. You know exactly where you’ll end up. The same place you always do.

Alone at the sidelines.

You grab a drink, bringing it to your lips a little too quickly, hoping the cool burn will settle the unease twisting in your stomach.

"Hey! It’s been a while!" A voice cuts calls out, familiar—but not familiar enough. You turn to see a girl skidding towards you, her face vaguely recognizable. A former classmate? A clubmate? Someone who once sat next to you in a lecture hall?

"How have you been?" she asks, taking a drink for herself.

"I’m fine, thanks," you reply, forcing an easy nod before taking another sip.

A second passes, and then another girl joins the conversation, breathless with laughter. "Beom-seok finally let me go," she teases, tilting her head toward the man across the room—her soulmate. "The guy’s obsessed."

"Of course he is," the first girl grins. "He’s your soulmate." She swirls her drink before adding, "Mine just got back from overseas. He’ll see me tomorrow once he’s in the city." And there it is again—circling back to the same topic, the one you can never take part in. You nod, offering a small smile, pretending to listen.

Because what is there to say when everyone else has something you don’t?

"Y/N?" Your name pulls you out of your thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Did you meet yours yet?" The question hits like a slow, squeezing ache in your chest.

"No," you say, reaching for another drink. It's embarrassing that everyone knows you're empty. "I haven't."

"That's… weird, right?" The first girl tilts her head, genuinely puzzled. "I mean, we sat through those lectures together. Didn’t the studies say most people find their soulmate before twenty-five? That’s what the records say."

There’s no malice in her voice, just matter-of-fact. Like she’s pointing out a statistic, saying out what’s already been made painfully clear to you. it’s the same tired reminder, the same unspoken question: what’s wrong with you?

You’re used to it by now.

"Yeah," you say, unwilling to argue. What’s the point? Your mind slips back to those reckless high school days—the days when older girls, too cool and too cruel, mocked you for not having a soulmate. You remember snapping back, pretending their words didn’t sting.

Later, the tears came on the bus ride home—carving rivers down your cheeks as you sob. Strangers offered tissues, soft words, awkward kindness, but none of it could stitch you back together. You remember your mother's words after seeing her home. To stop them from hurting you, you have to accept all of yourself.

But how do you accept the whole of you, when it doesn’t even feel like you have all of you?

From the corner of your eye, you catch the second girl nudging her. "Don’t mind her, Y/N," she says quickly. "She doesn’t always think before she talks." Then, after a beat, she adds, "Have you tried dating in the meantime? You know, while you're waiting?"

You blink at her, taken aback.

"I mean, it's not like it’s cheating, right? Since you haven’t met them yet."

You set your drink down, your fingers suddenly cold. "Why are you suggesting something you wouldn’t even do?" Your voice is calm, but it makes her shift uncomfortably. "Or did you? Does your soulmate know?"

Neither of them speaks. Guilt in their expressions. You don’t wait for an answer. You're done for tonight.

It’s time to go.

You turn away, not bothering to look back. No one needs you here—your part is done. Your role here is over. You pull out your phone, quickly typing out a polite apology to the bride before slipping it back into your pocket.

The drive home is silent, and the buzz of the engine is the only company you have. Your hands grip the wheel a little too tightly, your thoughts drifting despite your best efforts to keep them at bay. When you finally reach your small apartment, you step out, clutching yet another wedding souvenir in one hand a meaningless token of a night that wasn’t yours to celebrate.

You lock the door behind you and lean against it blinking, exhaling shakily. "I guess today wasn’t the day either," you murmur to no one in particular, wiping away the single tear that managed to escape. "What's taking you so long?"

No matter how often you whispered this question, it never hurt any less.

"What's taking you so long?"

Beomgyu groans from under the covers, trying to burrow deeper into the warmth of his bed. The sudden tug of his blanket makes him blindly reach out, attempting to grab it back. "You shi—"

"Beomgyu, you're the last one. We're all almost ready to go," Soobin says, adjusting his belt in the mirror. "Look at this little child."

Beomgyu stretches with a dramatic yawn. "I'm up, I'm up," he mumbles, sitting up sluggishly and blinking against the light. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed, feet landing on the bedside table. Soobin shakes his head but doesn't stick around—his job is done. Beomgyu is finally awake.

Minutes later, Beomgyu trudges into the living room, hair a mess, voice still deep with sleep. "Are we eating there?"

The entire room turns to look at him.

"You woke up late, and that’s the first thing you care about?" Yeonjun teases, shaking his head with a laugh.

"Well, I didn’t eat last night," Beomgyu grumbles.

"Oh?"

"Liar," the maknae pipes up from the couch, casually applying lip balm. "You literally snuck out to eat."

"You snitch," Beomgyu gasps, feigning betrayal. "I didn’t raise you to turn on me like this!"

"You? Raise me?" Kai scoffs. "Soobin hyung’s the one who raised me, what are you talking about?"

Soobin smirks and chucks Beomgyu’s towel straight at his face. "Exactly. Now go shower, you idiot."

Laughter erupts around the room as Beomgyu groans, trudging toward the bathroom. "Shower quick, hyung," Taehyun calls out.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Beomgyu’s slightly damp hair clings to the back of his neck. He hadn’t had time to dry it properly before they rushed out of the dorm—there was no room for delays today. A broadcast for their comeback. Another promotion. His stylist would handle it in the green room anyway.

They pile into the van, the usual quiet settling over them. Despite being fully dressed and ready, exhaustion hangs heavy. One by one, his members drift off, heads resting against windows, bodies slumped in their seats. Only Kai remains awake, lost in his own world, music pulsing through his earphones. The maknae was so engrossed on his phone, obviously texting with a small smile on his face.

Beomgyu sighs, pressing his forehead against the cool glass, his breath slightly fogging up the window. Today would be a long day. Rehearsals, performances, a challenge video, taping. He missed this. He missed MOAs. The rush of the stage. The high of performing. And then—

Oh.

The van slows at a red light, and his gaze drifts absentmindedly to the sidewalk. His chest tightens.

A couple walks by, laughing, hands intertwined, completely lost in their own world. The way they move together, effortlessly in sync. In love. Content. Happy. He stares longer than he should.

He can't look away.

His throat feels tight as the van lurches forward again, pulling him out of his thoughts. He blinks hard, shifting in his seat. The image stayed, pressed into the back of his mind.

All four of his members had already found theirs—their soulmates. The one they could lean on when the world became too loud. Beomgyu was happy for them, of course, he was. He remember how he was when Kai blushed when he met his soulmate recently, right after his 23rd birthday.

Everyone teased the maknae relentlessly for weeks.

Beomgyu had been too busy his whole life, training since he was just a kid, running full speed toward a dream. His mind is busy to the point he sometimes forgets it. He does not mean to. It's just that—he never let himself dwell on it for too long. Pushing it aside became second nature, the same way he’d forget to eat when he was too busy, too distracted.

But every year, without fail, when the room dimmed and the birthday candles in front of him, his wish was always the same.

His soulmate.

It didn’t matter how many years passed or how much he achieved—when the glow of those tiny flames danced in his eyes, it was the only thing his heart whispered.

Beomgyu exhales shakily, his fingers curling into his hoodie. a quiet sigh slipping from his pouting lips.

Where are you?

The stark white walls of the hospital room loom over, mocking your awkwardness.

"There's nothing wrong with you, dear," the woman in front of you says, her lab coat lending a sense of authority to her words. Her voice is gentle, reassuring, but it barely soothes the unease twisting in your chest. "Soulmates do tend to find each other early, statistically speaking. But that’s just a pattern, not a guarantee."

You swallow hard. The lump in your throat stays put. "Is there… any chance this is a mistake?" Your voice is quieter than you intend, fragile in a way you hate. "That someone could go their whole life without one? That—" you hesitate, your chest tightening, "that I’m just… meant to be alone?"

Something flickers across her face—pity, maybe. You’re not sure. "I’ll look into it, I promise," she says after a moment. "I know twenty-six feels late, and I know it’s frustrating. But… trust in destiny a little longer. If you want, I can also recommend a therapist. I know the pressure can get to you."

Her words are meant to be comforting. They only make the weight in your chest heavier. You shake your head, managing a quiet “thank you” before slipping out of the room, the door clicking shut behind you.

“How was it?” Da-hee’s voice reaches you before you even look up. She’s already on her feet, eyes scanning your face, searching for an answer. “What did they say?”

“Nothing I haven’t heard before.” You sigh, walking past her. “I told you I should not do this.”

She huffs, crossing her arms as she falls into step beside you. “You never tried it,”

Your best friend doesn’t argue anymore, following you to the counter in silence. The cashier barely looks up as they say, “That consultation is $120 total, plus taxes, bringing it to $145.86. Card or cash?”

You catch Da-hee reaching for her wallet, but you gently push her hand away. “Don’t,” you murmur. “This was for me.”

You hand over your card. A quick swipe, a faint beep. And just like that, you’re down nearly $150 with nothing to show for it but a sinking feeling in your stomach.

That much money for a consultation. A conversation. No treatment, no tests, nothing tangible. Soulmate doctors are expensive. Too expensive. And health insurance? Useless. They don’t cover something as rare, as unquantifiable, as soulmate problems.

Because to them, it’s not a real sickness, proving that you are—once again—the outlier.

Perfect.

“Come on,” you say, nudging your still-guilty-looking friend. She follows you out of the hospital, quiet and pouting.

At the car, she pulls open the driver’s side door. “Let me at least drive?” she offers, voice softer now.

You chuckle at her persistence, shaking your head before tossing her the keys. “Okay.” Sliding into the passenger seat, you reach for the radio, as she pulls out of the parking lot.

"Let's hang out at your place," Da-hee says, and she grins as she sees you nod your head.

Music played softly through the speakers, blending with the casual flow of conversation. The air is light, and easy—until your car rolls past a towering black building.

HYBE.

Funeral wreaths. Trucks. Massive banners.

Your brows furrow as you take it in, the sight so jarring that it silences you for a beat. The road ahead clogs with slowed traffic, people lingering to gawk at the scene.

“What the fuck?” Da-hee mutters, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, eyes darting across the scene. The traffic slows as more people crane their necks to look. You do the same, stomach twisting at the sheer scale of it. "This is insane."

“What’s going on?” you ask, still trying to piece together the meaning behind it all.

She exhales, lips pressing into a thin line. “Lee Heeseung. An idol,” she starts. “News got out that he recently went out with his soulmate.” Her voice dips, sadness flickering across her face. “And now… now, people want him out of the group.”

Your stomach twists. “What?”

You strain to read the bold, angry messages plastered across the banners:

GET LEE HEESEUNG OUT OF HYBE.

APOLOGIZE, LEE HEESEUNG.

EXPLAIN THIS, LEE HEESEUNG.

ENHYPEN IS NOW ONLY SIX.

IDOLS WITH SOULMATES ARE NOT IDOLS.

The messages feel suffocating, each one worse than the last. Then you see it—one of the trucks, its LED screen flashing an image like a public execution.

A man, young and striking, caught mid-laughter as he eats ramen with a girl beside him. She’s smiling too, her expression warm, content. The matching caps on their heads make them look like any ordinary couple, but the grainy, long-lens quality of the photo gives it away. Someone had been watching. Someone had been waiting to expose them.

Your stomach turns.

“It’s worse when so many fans are… young,” Da-hee murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. “Most of them are stringless.” She says the last word carefully like she doesn’t want to offend you.

But you almost hear what she isn’t saying.

Stringless people can’t understand the soulmate bond. And when it comes to idols, that misunderstanding twists into darker. As insane as it sounds, they feel entitled. Possessive. Like their devotion should be enough. Like an idol’s life—who they love, who they belong to—should be theirs to control.

It’s the only explanation, isn’t it?

The car inches forward, and your eyes drift back to the scene outside. Security guards push against the surging crowd, their faces strained. The banners wave wildly, like battle flags in a war meant to punish.

You swallow hard. “I don’t get it.” You don’t know him. You don't need to know him to know the injustice of it. “Why treat him like he committed some kind of crime? He’s meant to have someone. He’s a person, not—” You gesture vaguely at the protest, frustration bubbling up. “Not their property.”

Da-hee sighs. “That’s why idols who are caught with their soulmates—especially the ones who confirm it, get cancelled. Fans turn on them. They lose everything.” She shakes her head, voice laced with exhaustion and resignation. “It’s sad that they have to hide it.”

The thought of society hating someone just for loving who they’re meant to love makes your chest feel tight. How could something meant to be beautiful turn into this?

You guess your own situation isn’t the only cruel, unfair thing in this world.

The two of you make it back to your apartment, settling in for a movie with a bowl of popcorn between you. The glow of the TV flickers across the room, a comfortable silence stretching between you—until Da-hee suddenly squeals, nearly knocking the popcorn over in the process.

“Oh my god,” she gasps, shoving the popcorn bowl off her lap as she scrambles to her feet. “OH MY GOD.” She starts stomping in place.

You glance at her, unimpressed. “I want to wipe that ridiculous grin off your face.”

She just giggles and shoves her phone in front of you. “Joon bought me VVIP tickets. I’m going to die.” She pumps a fist in the air, bouncing on her toes like a kid who just won the lottery. “And there’s two. He can’t go—oh my god. Please, please, I am begging you to come with me. It’s next week! That sneaky bastard didn’t even tell me he bought them ages ago.”

You hesitate, already feeling the excuse forming on your tongue. “I don’t think—”

“Come on, Y/N.” She grabs your arm, shaking it dramatically. “Look at me. I have a soulmate, and I still thirst over Tomorrow X Together.”

You nearly choke on your drink. “That’s a long-ass name.”

“They’re my babies,” she says, clutching her chest like she’s been personally blessed by the gods. “You’ll love the show, I promise. And maybe—you’ll be like me. While you wait for your soulmate, it’s harmless to fangirl a little. OMG, what if you become a MOA? That’s my dream. Imagine us going to cafés with photocards, buying merch, collecting albums—”

“Okay, first of all, they are grown men. Not babies.” you cut in before she spirals. You know from experience that once she starts talking about her fangirl life, she never stops. “Anyways, okay, I’ll go. But don’t expect anything.”

Da-hee lets out another excited squeal before launching herself at you, wrapping her arms around your neck and squeezing way too tight.

“You won’t regret this!”

You already do.

It was your turn to trail behind Da-hee like a lost puppy, weaving through the sea of fans decked out in carefully coordinated outfits. Everyone is well dressed. So prepared. Keychains and accessories dangled from their bags, the sound of clinking metal filling the air.

"Look at them," Da-hee suddenly stopped, pulling out her phone. You followed her gaze to the massive banner hanging outside the arena.

TOMORROW X TOGETHER

They... didn’t look bad.

"My husbands," Da-hee sighed dreamily spinning turning to you with wide eyes. "Let's take a selfie!"

Before you could protest, she yanked you in, holding her phone high. The two of you posed—her grinning ear to ear, you looking like a reluctant daughter humoring her overexcited mom.

At the ticketing section, an attendant handed you both event wristbands and ID laces. You're about to shove yours into your pocket, but Da-hee looped it around your neck like a medal.

“So you don’t lose it,” she said firmly.

You sighed, adjusting the strap as you followed her toward a merch booth. Fans swarmed the display, eyes gleaming as they scanned the shelves stacked with albums, shirts, and accessories.

"Everyone's so hyped," you muttered, glancing around. "I can see a lot of Da-hees here."

"Of course they are," Da-hee said ignoring your last comment with a dramatic sway of her hand. She skimmed the display. "This comeback is a masterpiece."

You frowned. "What are we even doing here?"

"You need a picket." She says. "And don’t even think about saying no. I’m still heartbroken you refused the lightstick, so at least take this. We’re gonna be right at the barricades, you can’t just stand there empty-handed. Pick one."

You groaned, "Fine."

Your eyes sweep over the options, scanning each face printed on the glossy boards. You won’t say it out loud—not yet—but you’ll admit it now. They’re all… ridiculously handsome.

And one of them stands out.

Soft brown eyes. A small, almost knowing smile. Something about his face makes your breath hitch. "Uh..."

Da-hee leans in, brow furrowing. "What are you picking? Wait. Are you okay? Why are you so red—"

"I'm not," You quickly pointed at the picket, avoiding her stare like your life depended on it. "This one."

A slow, mischievous grin spreads across her face. "Oh-ho." She turns to the waiting merch seller, smiling some more.

"One Beomgyu, please."

You followed her... once again.

You didn’t have much of a choice. But this time, your steps felt… lighter. Movements are less reluctant than when you first arrived.

You weren’t sure why. Maybe it was the way the heat had finally eased, the golden glow of late afternoon settling over the pavement. Maybe it was the way MOAs—total strangers—smiled at you like you belonged, their warmth making you feel strangely at ease. Maybe it was the fact of not hearing the word soulmate even once. That you don't feel the odd one out.

Or maybe—just maybe—it was the picket you now held carefully in your hands.

You didn’t know how it happened. How you went from teasing Da-hee about her obsession to clutching a piece of laminated paper like it meant something. But the more you looked around, the more you understood.

It wasn’t just about the idols printed on banners or the music playing faintly in the background. But also, it was about them. These people who glowed with excitement, who found joy in simply being here, in loving unapologetically.

You were sceptical of it at first, seeing the front of HYBE last week. The protest. But just like everything, you saw it. The good side of being a fan.

How they shined—not only because of who they adored, but because of how they adored. How happy they were to love, and to share that love with everyone around them.

And somehow, standing here among them, you felt a little brighter, too.

"Where are we going now?"

"MOAZONE," Da-hee answers without hesitation, pulling you toward yet another booth. The concert doors won’t open for another thirty minutes, but she’s on a mission. The funny thing is—she doesn’t really need to drag you anymore.

Something has settled in your bones. You’re going to see this through, stay until the last song fades. And maybe—you’ll find yourself here again next time.

"It’s a booth where you can pull a concert-exclusive photocard," she explains further, eyes shining with excitement.

You nod, letting her lead the way. The line is long. When it’s finally Da-hee’s turn, she gasps, then squeals so loudly people around her chuckle. "Yeonjun!" she cries, clutching the card to her chest like it’s the most precious thing in the world. "I got him!"

Then, it’s your turn.

A row of face-down cards is laid out before you. You don’t think too hard about it—you just point to one.

The staff hands it over, and when you flip it, your breath catches.

"You got Beomgyu?!" Da-hee shrieks, bouncing on her toes beside you. You barely hear her. Because there he is.

Elbow propped up, chin resting on his hand, that same small, knowing smile—only this time, it’s wider.

Fucking hell.

Da-hee grabs your arm, shaking you. "Girl, you are officially a Beomgyu magnet. I'm unfriending you if don't start liking them,"

Beomgyu.

Beomgyu. His name loops in your mind, over and over. And for some reason, it fits. His name suits him.

You tried your best not to break a smile. "Come on,"

If you had told yourself a year ago that you’d be here—crammed into a packed venue, surrounded by screaming teenagers—you would’ve laughed. Hard.

And yet, here you are, laughing. Not at the absurdity of it, but with it. Caught up in the moment with Da-hee, the crowd’s energy vibrates as hundreds of voices chant their names.

“It’s soundcheck first,” Da-hee leans in, her voice barely cutting through the noise. “Then the main concert.”

You nod, still grinning. “Okay.”

Then, the opening notes of a song play through the speakers. The crowd erupts. “Oh my god!” Da-hee shrieks, “It’s Deja Vu!”

The five of them step onto the stage. It’s a blur—lights flashing, voices screaming. Your heart pounds against your ribs as the music swells, wrapping around you like something alive.

It’s beautiful.

A tall man—easily the tallest—moves toward your section, waving with an easy smile, deep dimples carving into his soft-looking cheeks. It reminds you of bread. The warmth of it is infectious, and before you even realise it, you're waving back, grinning at someone whose name you didn’t even know this morning.

Then, the song begins to wind down. And that’s when you see him.

Beomgyu.

His steps are slower than the others, like he’s taking his time, scanning the crowd with careful eyes. You tell yourself not to look. Not when he gets closer. Not when that strange, restless nervousness twists in your stomach. You clench your fists and stare at the ground. Why? Why does this feel so overwhelming?

Around you, voices grew. The energy shifts, and you know it’s only a matter of time before you give in. You look up, unsure.

The mic is at his lips, his voice singing into the melody—until suddenly, he stops.

All because his eyes meet yours.

Everything else fades. The crowd, the shake of Da-hee beside you, even the music that was supposed to be loud. All that’s left is the pull—a red thread stretching between, searing itself into your vision, blinding in its intensity—demanding to be seen.

On stage, he stands impossibly still, his fingers gripping the mic like he sees it too.

It can't be real.

“We're trending again,” Taehyun says, flopping onto Beomgyu’s hotel bed with a sigh. “What the hell?”

Beomgyu leans back against the headboard, “How much time do we have?”

Taehyun checks his watch. “Practice is in… oh. Hours.” He exhales, shaking his head in awe. “This is actually happening. A sold-out stadium, Beomgyu. Can you believe that? Remember that tiny, run-down building we used to train in? The cracked floorboards, the growing mushrooms?” He laughs, eyes distant.

“When Yeonjun used to sneak his soulmate in, trying to show off like he was already famous? As a trainee. And now—now, we’re here.”

Beomgyu snorts. “In that practice room, too. I still don’t know how his soulmate put up with that. Or how Yeonjun didn’t get kicked out.”

“Yeah. They just couldn’t let go of each other.” Taehyun laughs, shaking his head. “And I don't think Big Hit will let go of him too."

It had been one of the first rules drilled into them during training—no soulmates. No... searching. And if they already had one? They had to tell them. Have the conversation. An agreement that would turn everything into a secret.

Soulmates were inevitable, unstoppable. Beomgyu still remembers the contract in his hands, the way he read every word over and over, heart pounding. As if somewhere in the fine print, there was a clause that might hurt his soulmate. In the end, he signed.

If he ever found his soulmate, no one could know. Not until everything was over. In other words, disbandment.

"I'm missing her like crazy these days."

Beomgyu doesn’t respond right away. He just shrugs, tossing things out of his suitcase—a hoodie, a toothbrush, whatever his hands find first. He had noticed how restless Taehyun had been, the way he kept his phone glued to his hands, typing, hesitating, typing again. But what was there to say? What could he do about it?

The others were good at pretending. Hiding. The quiet hotel meetups, the stolen hours between schedules. But if Beomgyu was being honest, he could count on both hands the number of times any of the four had actually been with their soulmates since debut.

The fear of getting caught kept them all in line. Not just by the company, but by the fans. The horror stories weren’t just industry rumours—some were ancient, some recent.

If this doesn’t work out, I don’t know if I can take it. Taehyun had said that once. This career was everything. He wasn’t going to risk it. He wasn't ready. And Beomgyu understood. Everyone understood. He could already picture the protest trucks outside the company building if anyone ever slipped up.

"You heard anything from Heeseung?" Taehyun asks, his voice careful, his fingers tightening around his phone. Beomgyu knows him well enough to catch the shift—the way his mind drifts, went from missing his soulmate to remembering the latest scandal in their world.

Heeseung, the newest idol thrown into the fire.

He, who got caught with his soulmate.

"Yeah," Beomgyu says, swallowing. "He's okay, but… his soulmate is taking the worst of it."

Taehyun stills. The thought of his own soulmate being dragged into something like that—starts to burn at the back of his mind. What if it were her?

"Hey, don't overthink it," Beomgyu says because he sees it. He sees it in all of them. The quiet way they carry it, that they aren’t supposed to want. In their world, the idea that you should be free with your soulmate is just that—an idea. Or maybe worse. A peril. A risk too big to take.

He remembers Soobin crying once, blaming himself for wanting this life—this job. And how, in the end, the only person who could calm him down was his soulmate. The same person the company treated like a liability. Yet, the only one with the power to bring their leader back to himself.

The irony.

He also remembers the night he sat with his dad, asking him how he knew Mom was his. He had tilted his head, recounting their encounter, before he said one thing that stuck with him.

"Before I even saw the string, I knew… it was her."

Beomgyu used to cringe at that. Now, he wonders if he'll ever get the chance to feel it.

“Did you see everyone? Insane.” Yeonjun says, eyes wide as they sit in the salon-like chairs. “They’ve been out there since last night.”

Kai glances at him as much as he can without moving his head, his makeup artist carefully blending eyeshadow. “Yeah, I saw them. MOAs are bundled up out there, and it’s freezing. It's worrying me.”

"I feel like I'm about to throw up. I'm nervous,"

Playing a stadium—a sold-out one, this is the dream. The one every trainee chases, the one Beomgyu used to stare at the ceiling imagining, too afraid to believe it could ever be real. And yet, here it is.

His mind pulls him back to the past. The long nights, the aching muscles, the quiet sobs muffled into his pillow. The moments of doubt, the voices—his own, the other's—telling him he wasn’t enough. He remembers how hard they worked. How hard he worked. How many times they shared one meal because they couldn't afford another one. And still, somehow, they held on.

He knows he earned this, and fought for it with everything he had. But standing here now, bathed in the price of it all, it still doesn’t feel real. He stares at his hands once his stylist is done with his eyes. There’s something else tugging at him, a strange feeling that’s been lurking since morning.

What it is, he can’t quite say.

Beomgyu's eyes sweep over the big space. The kind of big that makes his head spin if he thinks about it too much. In a few hours, this place will be much packed. He’s been—on stages just like this, under lights just as bright but somehow, it still knocks the wind out of him.

It's soundcheck. He likes it because, with the lights up, he can actually see everyone. It was one of the rare moments he could see faces. He likes it as much as the offline fan signs. They move through the set, running back and forth across the stage, but his feet keep pulling him toward one side—like an instinct.

Beomgyu likes looking at MOAs. It feels good. Familiar, almost. Sometimes, he even recognizes a face— it was a feeling like a reminder of home, a classmate from school, someone he’d seen before. And then there’s the simple joy of it all. The way someone’s face brightens up because of him. It never gets old. It never stops making him happy, too.

But then, he notices one weird thing.

It’s strange. He’s right here. He could understand if you were looking at another member—fans have their favourites, after all. But you’re not looking at anyone. You're staring at the floor?

You’re not looking at all.

He tilts his head, trying to see better—to get a curious glimpse, and suddenly, his whole world shifts. His heart slams to a stop. It’s so sudden, so overwhelming, he almost stumbles forward, yanking him toward the barricade. "What?"

And then—you move, as if you heard his thoughts.

Just the slightest turn of your head, your face lifting, eyes locking onto his. He stops breathing. His fingers go numb around the mic. Everything slows, softens, blurs at the edges until there’s nothing but this moment. Just the two of you, staring.

The closeness of Beomgyu makes the crowd shift, bodies pressing closer—but you don’t move. You just stand there—still, steady—while the rest of the world shifts around you. Like the last grain of sand in an hourglass, holding on as everything else rushes past.

He swears he would’ve stayed like that forever—frozen, staring, lost—if not for the firm hand on his shoulder. A small tug. He blinks, the spell breaking just enough for reality to slip back in.

"Beomgyu? What's wrong?" Soobin. His leader gives him a look of worry and urgency, and that’s when he hears it, the music. He closes his agape lips, and clears his throat. The song is still playing. Right. He’s supposed to be—

But then his gaze flickers back to you.

It’s nothing, he tells himself. You’re just so so pretty. That’s all. Maybe it was your eyes or your hair or the way you did it. It was just fucking cute. It doesn’t mean anything. And—

His breath falters. He sees it.

He hadn’t noticed before. He had been too busy looking at you. Too caught up in the moment that he missed it entirely. Something all of the members have. Something Beomgyu had waited for his whole life.

The thread.

Thin, and so impossibly red. A string stretched between, glowing faintly under the stage lights. He looks down at his hand—at his ring finger— it's tied there. His eyes trace its path. To you. His chest tightens.

"Before I even saw the string, I knew… it was her."

Soulmate.

You’re his. After everything—after all this time—

He finally found you.

The dressing room is a blur of movement, stylists rushing, last-minute adjustments being made, and voices overlapping but he just sits there. Staring at the floor.

He’s dressed. He’s ready. He should be used to this by now, the pre-show jitters, the nervous energy that always sits in his chest before he steps on stage. But—his soulmate is out there. Somewhere in the crowd. And the thought grips him so tight it almost hurts. What if he never sees you again? What if you’re gone before he can find you?

Your face lingers in his mind, vivid and haunting. The way the lights hit your dress, the way you looked at him—it knocked the breath right out of his lungs. He was completely unprepared for it. You were so beautiful that he almost forgot what he was doing.

He’s never been shaken like that before. Not in his personal life. Not as an idol. Not in school, at the company, on stage, meeting seniors, at award shows—never.

Waiting for the music queue, he finally lifts his head.

Muscle memory takes over. His body knows what to do. He’s trained for this, conditioned for it. Every movement, every note, every expression—it’s muscle memory now. His instincts take over before his thoughts can catch up. This is his life. His career. The one thing he chose, out of everything he could have been. How many people in the world get to do this? To stand under those lights, to hear thousands of voices calling his name, to live a dream most wouldn’t even dare to chase?

Would he trade it all, just to see you again?

His feet move—before he can stop them, despite his thoughts, his heart pulls him stronger toward your section. It's a force beyond his control. When he finally sees you again, it feels like a miracle. You’re still near the barricade, still close enough that he doesn’t have to search.

He keeps up, waves, and makes faces—things for MOAs, things he’s done a thousand times before. But his mind isn’t on them. It’s on you. And you’re just standing there again, frozen in place like you don’t trust yourself to move.

He waves again, but this time, it’s for you. Directly. You tilt your head, hesitant, and then—an unsure wave back. It’s so small, so subtle, but it makes him smile. His grin spreads before he can think twice.

Got you, beautiful.

He pumps his fist in an exaggerated show of triumph, like he just won a game only the two of you are playing. He watches as your eyes go wide, and if the lights weren’t so blinding, he swears he’d see the warmth rising to your cheeks. He fists his hand, trying to hold back from reaching out to you.

He crouches, and the fans around you surge forward, eager to be seen, but you don’t move. And then, he sees it—your eyes kept flickering downward, tracing the thread again and again, like you were making sure.

Yet you see it perfectly too.

You smile—small, hesitant, like you’re not sure this is really happening. Then, as if on impulse, you lift your hand, forming a careful, uncertain hand heart.

He doesn’t even wait a second before returning it.

His eagerness made you laugh. A breathless, disbelieving kind of laugh. He can’t hear it, not over the noise of the crowd, but he sees it in the way your shoulders shake, the way your eyes crease at the corners. His chest aches.

You're even more beautiful when you laugh.

He tosses a few kisses out into the air, but he gives his last kiss, the last one to you. You hesitate for only a second before sending one back. His response is instant—dramatic, ridiculous—clutching his chest like you’ve just shot him straight through the heart. He stumbles back, clutches at his clothes, so completely gone for you.

It’s meant to be a joke, but it isn’t.

Because you do have his heart, don’t you? And the strangest thing is, he doesn’t even know your name. Has never heard your voice. But right now, none of that matters. Maybe he’d stay here forever if he could, but the next song cut through the air, pulling him back to the present. His feet move, leading him away—away from you.

Before he joins the centre, just for a second, he looks back. A second to meet your eyes again, to make sure you're watching him.

And you are.

"Hyung," he breathes out.

Soobin turns, both of them standing still as stylists tug their sweat-drenched shirts off, replacing them with fresh ones.

But Beomgyu isn’t thinking about the show anymore.

He’s looking at Soobin. Waiting. Searching for the right way to ask without anyone else catching on. He doesn’t want them to hear. Doesn’t want them to know.

Not yet.

Soobin frowns slightly. “What? You've been looking distracted since earlier. Are you okay?”

“Your soulmate…” His eyes flicker down. He hesitates, searching for the right words. The right way to say this. "At—Tokyo? How did you…?"

He doesn’t need to finish the thought. How can the older forget the only time he managed to sneak his soulmate backstage? Soobin stares at Beomgyu. The latter's face is practically screaming his questions. How did you do it? How did you get them backstage? How did you make it happen?

Beomgyu has to see you. In front of him. Next to him. Because what if you disappear? What if he lets this slip through his fingers, and suddenly—you’re just gone? And what if this is his only chance?

The room moves around him—zippers, voices, fabric rustling—but all he can hear is his own ragged breathing. He moves his eyes. And there, watching him is their leader who knows him better than anyone—with that equally knowing look on his face.

"Let's talk. Just the two of us."

Beomgyu is your soulmate.

The boys just disappeared backstage, their song still ringing in your ears, but your hands won’t stop shaking. Your chest is tight, your throat burns, and there’s a sting at the corners of your eyes.

You're not a mistake. He’s here. He saw you.

His eyes, his smile. The way he moves, the faint dimple that appears when he does. The thought is too much—it makes your knees weak, and forces you to grip the barricade to keep yourself upright.

"Girl, I swear Beomgyu kept looking over here," Da-hee says, nudging you, completely oblivious to the storm unraveling in your chest. Then she catches sight of your face—at your trembling fingers, at the way you can’t seem to catch your breath.

“Y/N?” Her voice softens. “What’s wrong?”

The words leave your lips before you can even think. "I saw my soulmate."

Your voice shakes, barely above a whisper, but Da-hee hears it. Her eyes go wide. "Wait, what? Oh my god—where is he? Is he a MOA? Is he—”

She doesn’t even get to finish the thought before she freezes.

It clicks.

Then, slowly, her face shifts—from confusion to shock to absolute disbelief. The finding out, then the realising. She stares at you, her mouth slightly open, her hands hovering in the air like she doesn’t know what to do with them.

“Oh my fucking god.” Her hands fly to her mouth, like she needs to physically stop herself from screaming. Then she grabs her hair, like that’s going to help her process this.

“Is he—is Beomgyu—” She cuts herself off, whisper-shouting now, eyes darting toward the stage, toward the place where he just was. “Is that why he kept coming back over here?”

Her grip tightens on your arm, searching your face, waiting for you to confirm what she already knows. But you can’t say anything. All you can give is a small nod.

Minutes pass. The music swells and fades, song after song drifting through the speakers.

Da-hee stays by your side, rubbing soothing circles on your back, whispering reassurances you can’t fully process. At some point, you catch her sniffling into her hands, wiping away her own tears.

Sixteen years.

Sixteen years of friendship, of growing up together, of knowing each other better than anyone else ever could. She’s seen every version of you—the messy, the broken, the parts of you even you struggled to accept. She’s cried with you, cried for you, carried your grief like it was her own. Even after finding her own soulmate, she never left you behind. Never made you feel like you were missing something, like you were less.

And now—now she’s the reason you’re here.

She’s the reason you met him.

You think of every birthday candle she ever closed her eyes for, every whispered wish she made on your behalf—because she believed that if two people wished for the same thing, the universe had to listen.

And maybe she was right.

It doesn’t matter if he never speaks to you. If the lights were too bright, if the crowd was too big, if he never even saw the thread at all.

It doesn’t matter. Because you saw it.

And that means you were never a mistake. Never some error in the grand design.

He exists.

Da-hee squeezes your hands, grounding you as a woman in staff uniform approaches. Her eyes lock onto yours, scanning your face, your outfit—like she’s confirming, making sure. Then, she stops directly in front of you. “We need to check some information on your tickets.”

Your heart slams against your ribs. You’re not stupid. You know what this is. You know they wouldn’t say it outright, not here, not in front of all these people.

“I—I have a friend with me,”

The staff member hesitates, studying you for a beat too long. Then she nods. “She can come with you, but she’ll have to wait in the holding room.”

You turn to Da-hee, and she’s already looking at you, her eyes wide and glassy. For a moment, neither of you speaks. Then she forces a wobbly smile.

Let's go.

You’re going to meet Beomgyu.

The walk was terrifying. Your hands clench tighter with every step, nails digging into your palms, but it does nothing to steady you. Every passing glance burns into your skin—people sneaking curious glances—staff members, crew, people who know exactly why you’re here.

Da-hee had to stay behind in the outer lounge. Now, it’s just you and the staff member leading you deeper into the backstage hallways. The air is thick, suffocating, and you force yourself to breathe through it.

Then she stops. A white door stands in front of you. Dressing Room is printed neatly on a sign, but the words blur as your mind spins.

She knocks. Opens it.

Panic rushes in. What if he doesn’t want this? What if he only let you come here to reject you—to tell you, to your face, that even if the universe says you’re meant to be, he doesn’t want you? What if—

The thought vanishes the second you see him.

Beomgyu.

He’s mid-step, like he’s been pacing. He removes his hands from his face, his eyes widening just slightly before he clears his throat. “Come in,” he says, voice softer than you expected. It’s meant for the staff member, but his gaze never left yours.

The staff steps aside, gesturing for you to enter. Heat crawls up your neck as you force yourself to move, hyper-aware of the way he’s watching every step.

“You have 60 minutes, Beomgyu,” she says before closing the door behind you.

Beomgyu stares at you, and you stare back.

For a moment, neither of you move. Just standing there, eyes locked, as if the world has paused just for this. To anyone else, it might look awkward—but you can't look away as he does.

Your eyes traces over his face, bare and fresh like he just washed up. The soft curve of his cheekbones, the freckles and moles scattered like constellations—proof that the universe took its time with him. Perfect in a way that makes your chest ache.

He blinks, and your eyes catch on his lashes—delicate, dark, fluttering against his skin like something out of a dream.

How can someone be made this perfect?

The question lodges itself in your throat, and before you can stop it, your vision blurs. Tears threaten to spill, but you blink them away. You don’t even know if he wants this yet—

"What’s your name?" Beomgyu asks, his voice quieter than he expected. He watches the way you blink, the slight parting of your lips like you hadn’t expected him to speak first.

His hands curl into fists at his sides. The urge to reach out—to cup your face, to feel your skin—is overwhelming. But he holds himself back.

Beomgyu has never considered himself the kind of person to take the first step. But not this. Not with you. He wants to start a conversation, anything—to get you talking, to hear your voice, to know you.

"Y/N." The sound of your voice stills him. It settles in his chest, not as something new, but as something he swears he’s always known—like a song he’s heard in a dream, waiting to be remembered. His lips twitch into a small, almost dazed smile.

Your voice is so pretty, he thinks. So pretty that it hurts.

He repeats your name, slower this time, rolling it over his tongue like he’s memorizing the way it feels to say it. And when you smile—just the faintest curve of your lips—his own smile widens into a grin.

"So, uh, hi?" Beomgyu says, and it pulls a laugh from you. His heart stumbles over itself at the sound, warmth blooming in his chest. It’s ridiculous, really, how easily you affect him.

"Did you come here alone?" he asks, trying to steady himself.

"I was with a friend," you say, and his eyes flicker—just for a second—to your lips before settling back on yours. "She’s outside."

"Hm." Beomgyu nods slowly, as if letting the thought settle. Then, slowly, he reaches out—his palm open, facing up, an unspoken invitation for you to give your hand out.

Your breath catches. Hesitation flickers for just a moment before you place your hand in his. Beomgyu feels warmth creep up his neck the second your skin meets, a flush he hopes you don’t notice. His fingers curl gently around yours, testing the weight of your hand in his own.

"Come on," he says, his voice softer now. He tugs you forward—careful, gentle, afraid he's hurt you in any way if he pulls too hard. "You should sit. You must be tired from standing out there."

"I could say the same," you murmur as you both sink into the couch. Beomgyu turns slightly toward you, his knee brushing yours, but he doesn’t let go of your hand. His thumb traces absentminded circles against your skin. "You danced and ran around the stage all night," you add, tilting your head at him.

He chuckles, the sound low and a little breathless. Your eyes drift around the room—clothing racks, scattered bags, the quiet remnants of a space that had been buzzing with energy just minutes ago.

"Yeah, I was pretty tired," he admits. Then, after a pause, softer this time, when you look at him again, he’s already staring. "But not anymore."

Beomgyu takes in everything—your lips, the way the light catches in your eyes, the soft of your hand in his. He doesn’t even think before he speaks, before the thought that’s been looping in his head since he first saw you finally slips past his lips.

"God, you're so beautiful."

Beomgyu watches as your cheeks flush, the warmth creeping up your skin like the slow bloom of dawn. He knew—you were his soulmate. Fates stitched together long before this moment, yet nothing could have prepared him for the way you looked right now. He never imagined that watching you blush under his words would feel this intoxicating.

"You’re the one who’s beautiful," you murmur, barely above a whisper. The words feel foreign on your tongue, yet true in a way that unsettles you. You clear your throat, trying to mask the way your heart stumbles over itself, but Beomgyu only tightens his grip on your hand.

You wonder how you even got here. This morning, you woke up with no idea that by evening, you'd be sitting across from your soulmate, flirting like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He chuckles—Beomgyu has heard the word beautiful more times than he can count. It’s been thrown at him in passing, whispered through screams from fans, printed in glossy magazines. But somehow, from your lips, it sounds different.

The next few minutes passed in easy conversation. Beomgyu had already pieced together bits of your life—you were only here because Da-hee dragged you along—he’d been hoping to meet her too, if only to thank her.

He knew you worked a corporate job, that photography was your escape. That you were two years older than him, a fact that he immediately latched onto, whispering noona in a teasing lilt just to see the way you’d roll your eyes laugh and swat his arm. But the truth was, he didn’t want to call you that. It was your name he wanted to say. He felt like he’d already spent a lifetime missing it, and now that he knew it, he never wanted to stop saying it.

You had learned things about him, too. That he’d loved music since he was a kid, that he picked up a guitar before he fully understood its chords. That he was cast as a trainee before he even hit the climax of his teenage years, and that six years had passed since he debuted. Things you could have easily searched online, or you could have read every article, and watched every interview, but nothing made your heart flutter quite like the way he told his own story.

The contrast between your lives was undeniable. Maybe that’s why it took so long for fate to push you toward each other.

While you were drowning in homework, he was in a practice room, chasing a dream. While you sat through lectures and worried about exams, he was in a studio, recording songs that would echo through stadiums. While you cried over a failed job interview, he stayed up until dawn, running through choreography again and again until his legs gave out. Your society—were parallel lines moving in different directions.

But sitting here, watching him scrunch his nose in laughter, none of that seemed to matter. Two people from different worlds, felt like it had faded into one—just by being next to each other.

He hadn’t once let go of your hand for the past hour.

"No, I just—I didn’t know where else to put it, so I stuck it there." You fumble for an excuse, cheeks burning as Beomgyu grins at you. He had spotted the photocard of him tucked into the back of your phone case, and he hadn’t let it go since.

“And it was random,” you add quickly, feeling your face heat up. “You have to randomly pick it.”

The truth is, Beomgyu knows. He knows it was a random selection. He knows you’re flustered. And he loves it. Loves the way you try to explain yourself, loves hearing you ramble, loves the way your face heats up under his stare. And to be honest, if it had been another member’s face staring back at him, no matter how petty it sounded, he also knows he wouldn’t have been too thrilled about it.

He’s in deep.

"Beomgyu, it's time to go." The same staff member says, pulling you both back to reality. You didn't even hear the doors opening. Her eyes flicker to your joined hands for a second, but she doesn’t say anything—just turns and steps outside.

You glance at Beomgyu, and he’s pouting. "We’re flying to Japan tomorrow morning, Y/N."

"Oh." The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind. You just met your soulmate, and by morning, he’d be gone. "Okay."

You stand up, expecting him to do the same, but he doesn’t move. Your hands dangle between you because he still hasn’t let go. "Beomgyu?"

"I’ll see you as soon as I get back, okay?" His voice is softer now, like he’s trying to find the right words. His gaze lingers on you, unreadable for a moment, before he finally stands. He squeezes your hands gently. "It won’t be too long."

"Alright… we have each other's numbers, so… text me."

"Just know your phone might be buzzing non-stop,"

"Got it." You roll your eyes, smiling. "I’ll survive."

"And wear warm clothes—it’s winter."

"You too."

"Eat on time."

"You’re the one doing concerts. I should be the one saying that."

He ignores your deflection, pressing on. "Sleep well. Lock your doors properly. You live alone, so it’s dangerous. Don’t go out too late. And if you do, call me, okay? Actually, I’d prefer if you didn’t go out too late at all. Please—make sure you don’t—"

He doesn’t get to finish. Before he can say another word, you reach up, sliding your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him into a hug. His words cut off instantly, replaced by a soft inhale—like he hadn’t breathed since he started speaking. Your heart squuezes over itself at his endless concern, spreading through your chest. Blinking rapidly, trying to push away the tears threatening to spill.

For the first time tonight, Beomgyu lets go of your hand—only to wrap both arms around you, one firm around your waist, the other reaching up to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your hair.

"I’ll see you soon, Beomgyu," you murmur.

You feel him tilt his head slightly before pressing a fleeting, warm kiss to your temple. "I’ll see you soon."

Elevators terrify you. It scares you because it feels like everything could come crashing down at any second. Why would you trust something that rises so quickly—too fast?

It can't last, doesn't it?

You feel him snuggle to you more, and you chuckle, pressed against him, his scent, his arms around you, holding you safely—his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek, as if whispering that the fall you fear will never come.

Elevators terrified you.

You wish you could have captured Da-hee’s face when she saw you walking over with Beomgyu beside you, his hand resting firmly on your back. Her eyes widened, mouth slightly agape, before she shot you a knowing look.

Beomgyu offered her a quick thanks, the paper bag with your heels swinging from your hands, and you stood there in the fresh pair of sneakers he’d somehow found in your size—because he wanted to. His eyes met yours for just a second longer before he turned to leave.

The second you stepped into the parking lot, Da-hee lost it. She let out a squeal so loud you had to clamp a hand over her mouth, laughing as she practically vibrated with excitement. "What just happened?!" she whispered against your palm, her eyes sparkling.

That night, as soon as you got home, your phone rang. His name lit up the screen.

It took only a second before answering.

It was awkward at first—neither of you really knowing what to say—but before you knew it, you were talking about everything and nothing, voices laced with exhaustion but neither willing to hang up first. He was leaving in a few hours, and you had to be the one to convince him to sleep, reminding him—more than once—that he had a flight to catch.

You had just curled up in your blankets when your phone buzzed again. Dozy, you reached for it, thumb swiping across the screen.

Choi Beomgyu I’m sorry for making you wait. I promise we’ll make up for all the time we lost. Sleep well, beautiful.

Even as sleep pulled you under, the smile on your lips never faded.

You wake up to the relentless ringing of your doorbell. A groan slips past your lips as you burrow deeper into your blankets. It’s Sunday. No work. No alarms. Just sleep—at least, that was the plan.

The doorbell rings again.

With an exaggerated sigh, you drag yourself out of bed, doing the bare minimum to look somewhat presentable. Your hair is probably a mess, your face still puffy from sleep, but you don’t care. Whoever decided to disturb your well-earned rest better have a damn good reason.

You glance at the clock on your way out. Oh. It’s not even early—it’s almost 1 PM.

Squinting against the bright light as you crack the door open, you’re met with a sight that instantly wakes you up. A delivery man stands there, arms full, holding the biggest bouquet of red roses you’ve ever seen. The sheer number of petals is overwhelming, a deep sea of crimson spilling over the edges of his grasp.

"What—" Your brain struggles to catch up, and then it clicks. Beomgyu. He asked for your address yesterday.

"Y/N?" The man confirms, struggling under the bouquet.

Your eyes widen. "Damn, just how many are in there?"

"Three hundred and fifteen roses," he says, barely holding onto the mass of flowers. "Please sign here."

Three hundred and fifteen. You’re smiling as you take the pen from him.

You stumble slightly, still half-dazed as you carefully set the massive bouquet down, trying not to crush a single petal. Your fingers tremble as you reach for the small card nestled between the roses, your heart already beating a little too fast.

315 months of not being with you. This won’t make up for it, but I hope it makes you happy.

You inhale sharply. Your chest tightens. 315 months. He counted. Beomgyu counted the exact number of months you’ve been alive—how does he even think like this? Tears prick at your eyes before you can stop them. He’s ridiculous. He’s thoughtful in a way that completely undoes you.

Before you even realise what you’re doing, you’re running. Not walking—running. Because suddenly, every second without hearing his voice feels like a second wasted.

Your fingers fumble as you dial his number, pressing the phone to your ear. It barely rings once before the line clicks open—like he had been waiting for this call all along. “Beomgyu—” your voice comes out uneven, breathless.

He chuckles softly, “So… I take it you liked it?”

It’s already 3 PM.

Somehow, you lost track of time, carefully splitting the bundle into smaller arrangements, placing them in vases around your apartment. Now, your living room and kitchen are drenched in the scent of roses—not that you’re complaining.

Beomgyu had stayed on the phone with you the entire time, talking about his morning, his voice in the background as you worked. That is, until someone called for him on the other end, reminding him he had things to do.

You sighed when the call ended. It's sunday, and his sunday is like the worst day of your week. And you're here, resting.

Now, fresh out of the shower, droplets of water still clung to your skin as you stepped onto the cool tile. A shiver ran down your spine as you grabbed a towel, pressing it to your face, inhaling the soft, familiar scent of fabric softener.

Dressed in cozy clothes, you curled up on the couch, remote in one hand, a bowl of yogurt and berries resting on your lap. Television played softly as you mindlessly scrolled through channels, enjoying the quiet.

Until your phone buzzed. You unlocked it, eyes immediately landing on the message.

Nut-job Da-hee. Girl! He's extra glowy today!! OMG <link>

You tapped the link, expecting a video to pop up, but instead, it directed you to download an app. You went along with it, quickly signing in and typing out a cheeky username.

The video loaded—Soobin and Beomgyu, in a hotel room. A small table sat near the camera, cluttered with food containers and drinks. Beomgyu was on the bed, lounging comfortably but still close enough to be part of the frame.

And Da-hee wasn’t exaggerating—he looked good. The black shirt fit him just right, his dark hair falling effortlessly, lips tinted a soft pink. A phone in hand, completely unaware of just how stunning he looked.

An idea sparked in your mind.

"It's not barley tea, MOA," Beomgyu laughs, shaking his head as Soobin insists otherwise. No matter how many times their leader repeats himself, the comments keep flooding in, doubting him.

"Choi Beomgyu really traumatized you, huh?" he teases, eyes crinkling with amusement.

"What do you mean?" Beomgyu argues, but Soobin is already moving on, reading a new comment aloud. "Barley tea is healthy,"

Just then, Beomgyu’s phone buzzes. He glances down at the screen.

My Y/N Live?

His back immediately straightens. Shit. You’re watching? He’s about to type out a response when another message pops up.

You look handsome.

Beomgyu presses a hand over his mouth, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. He wants to—

"Beomgyu, MOAs are asking what you're doing," Soobin interrupts, his eyes full of silent curiosity.

"Nothing," Beomgyu says too quickly. "Kai sent a meme." He shifts closer to the camera, Soobin right beside him. With his phone in his hands, he types a message, fully aware that Soobin is peeking at his screen. They probably look ridiculous—both of them staring down at their phones while thousands of people watch.

You're watching?

A few seconds pass before your reply pops up.

Yes.

Beomgyu inhales, trying to focus as Soobin keeps talking. His fingers move instinctively.

I'm shy.

Why? You look good.

A pause. Then another message.

Wait, stop looking at your phone. Let MOA see you? Username: 315flowersmyass.

Beomgyu chokes on a laugh. His lips curl up as he locks his phone and holds it up to the camera, as if to prove he’s done. As if to prove that he followed your words.

"So cute," he sings, the words slipping out without thought. The chat erupts, MOAs spamming hearts and messages.

Then he catches it.

315flowersmyass kekekeke -

His grin stretches wider. He closes his face on the screen. "Hi, MOA." He giggles.

This—this is cute. He’s always enjoyed going live, but now he knows you’re watching, he discovers a love for it he never even knew was possible.

The live eventually comes to an end. As soon as it does, Soobin turns to Beomgyu with a knowing smile. "I'm happy you finally found her," he says simply. Beomgyu doesn’t respond right away—just smiles, warmth spreading through his chest. Then his phone buzzes.

He checks it, and the moment he does, a gasp slips past his lips.

It’s a picture. You.

A snack is held near your face, your expression relaxed. You’re in cozy clothes, looking effortlessly beautiful, breathtaking. The picture made Beomgyu wish he could fly back to you right there and then. Over his shoulder, Soobin leans in. "Is that her?" he asks, then grins. "She's pretty."

Beomgyu doesn’t look away from his phone as his lips curl into a smile.

"She is," he murmurs, almost to himself.

"She’s here."

Ji-an’s voice pulls you from your focus. She’s standing beside your desk, phone pressed to her ear, while you scan last week’s finance report. Your eyes flick over the spreadsheet, catching an error in a formula, but before you can fix it, Ji-an calls your name. "Y/N, there’s a delivery for you. They’re at the door."

"Oh," you murmur, pushing your reading glasses up the bridge of your nose. Contacts felt like too much trouble today. "Thanks."

As you stand, a familiar warmth spreads through your chest. Outside, the delivery man hands you a bouquet—this time, white roses.

You peek at the note while walking back, the click of your heels filling the space. Your way back to your desk by the window. The skyline stretches endlessly beyond the glass, a vast expanse of city lights and open sky.

Ow! I fell! Fell for you~ —bg <3

A laugh escapes before you can stop it—he's so silly. One of the things you realised recently.

"That's the fourth bouquet this month, Y/N," Ji-an muses, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "I know you just met your soulmate, but flowers every week? That’s next-level sweet. I’m jealous—mine isn't really a flowers kind of person."

You return her smile, "Yeah, he's the sweetest."

It’s been a month since you met Beomgyu. A single day—that’s all you had together. And yet, in the weeks that followed, he never let distance become an excuse. Even with his tour in full swing, miles stretching endlessly between you, he still found ways to reach you. A call in the middle of the night. A voice note filled with sleepy laughter. And these flowers—his way of saying, I'm here. I'm coming back to you soon.

Ji-an leans against your desk, eyes glinting with curiosity. "So… when do we get to meet him?" she asks, wiggling her brows. "You know the drill—everyone meets everyone’s soulmate. It’s basically tradition. At least one or two quick bond drinks a year, right?"

The playful edge in her voice makes your stomach twist. Because as much as you want to laugh along, to pretend that everything is as simple as it should be… you know the truth.

They can’t meet him. Your friends, your family—none of them can. Maybe not now. Maybe not ever. You don’t even know when you will see him again.

You swallow, forcing down the sudden tightness in your throat. The warmth you felt just moments ago, thinking about him, is now laced with something heavier.

"He's—he's busy," you say, hoping your voice doesn’t betray you. You glance at the bouquet on your desk, fingers tracing the petals as if they hold an answer you don’t have. "Maybe next time."

The day finally ends, and you’re grateful Ji-an didn’t push for more.

You clutch the bouquet a little tighter as you step into the elevator, the faint scent of roses lingering in the air. By the time you make it to the parking lot, exhaustion weighs on you—but then you remember.

You forgot to send a text. Pulling out your phone, you type: I’m heading home now.

The message sends, and a small smile tugs at your lips. Beomgyu is probably fast asleep by now, lost in a time zone opposite yours. He won’t see it for hours, but you text him anyway—because you can already hear his voice in your head, playful and pouty. You forgot to tell me again, he’d whine. Can you please let me know?

You’ve learned a lot from him in such a short time. How simple it is to make someone feel remembered. How easy it is to reach out. How even in the busiest moments, there’s always a second to say, I haven’t forgotten you.

Because that’s what he’s been doing for you all along.

You slip your phone back into your pocket, ready to head to your car when someone stops you. Your steps slow, brows knitting together as your scan lands on a girl—sitting right on the hood of your car.

Your car. She’s perched there like she belongs, fingers idly tracing patterns against the metal.

"Hey," you call out, keeping your voice even. "It’s not really polite to sit on someone else’s car, sweetheart."

Her head lifts, eyes locking onto yours with disdain, "Don't sweetheart me, you slut."

The venom in her words knocks the air from your lungs. Your breath catches, shock flashing through you as she stands. She’s young. Much younger than you.

"Excuse me?"

"Are you fucking deaf?" she snaps.

Your instincts flare—this isn’t normal. You take a step back, "Leave. Now. Before I call the police."

But she doesn’t move. Instead, she tilts her head, and smirked. "You’re Beomgyu’s soulmate, aren’t you?"

Your body locks up. How does she know? Your fingers tighten around the stems of the flowers, the thorns pressing into your palm. You want to speak, to deny, to do something, but the words won’t come.

Because you know—whatever you say next could make this worse.

She clicks her tongue, taking a slow step toward you. "Do this while I’m still being nice," she says, voice eerily light. "Stay away from him. Or I’ll destroy everything." She tilts her head again, a slow blink. "I’d rather see him ruined than with you, unnie."

She steps past you then, her shoulder knocking into yours just hard enough to make you stumble back. Your hands cold, heart hammering against your ribs. She doesn’t look back. Not until she’s a few feet away.

"Don’t think I won’t do it," she murmurs. "Just think about how I knew. Your name. Your workplace. Your parking spot."

She smiles, "Don’t test me."

I’m heading home now.

Beomgyu rubs the sleep from his eyes, his fingers fumbling for his phone the moment he wakes up. Checking for your messages has become second nature—his first instinct, before he even fully shakes off sleep.

The corners of his lips curl into a soft smile as he reads your text. You remembered.

God, he misses you.

When he gets back, he’s not letting you out of his sight. He’ll beg his company if he has to—anything to steal just a little more time with you. He wants to spoil you, to show up with flowers every single day just to see that shy smile of yours. He’d buy you things you didn’t even know you needed, take pictures of you at every chance, make playlists for you, drag you into late-night game sessions just to hear you laugh and call him ridiculous. Love is effort. That’s what his parents always told him. He’d give it—all of it.

Maybe one day, he’d convince you to visit Daegu with him. Introduce you to his family, let his mom fuss over you, watch his brother tease him relentlessly. And Toto… Would you like Toto?

The thought makes him chuckle as he taps your contact and presses call. It rings. Once. Twice. Three times. His smile falters.

Then, voicemail.

His brows knit together. He tries again. Straight to voicemail. The phone feels heavier in his hand now.

It’s the first time you haven’t picked up.

He’s in the van now. It’s been hours.

Beomgyu grips his phone, scrolling through his notifications, eyes darting to every new alert. His heart lifts for a second—only to sink just as fast when he realizes it’s not you. The screen dims in his hands, but he doesn’t put it down. He can’t.

"You still haven’t heard from her?" Soobin asked. He’s the only one still awake, eyes heavy but observant. Beomgyu hadn’t meant to make it obvious, but he’s never been good at hiding things—not to his members.

"No," Beomgyu mutters, shaking his head. His throat feels tight. "We always talk before she falls asleep."

Soobin exhales, tilting his head back against the seat. "She probably crashed as soon as she got home. Long day, maybe?" He keeps his tone easy, reassuring. "Just focus on later's concert. She’ll probably be awake by then."

Beomgyu nods, forcing a small smile. "Yeah. You’re right. Thanks, hyung."

Soobin claps a hand on his back. "Don't think about it too much."

Beomgyu did his best to push thoughts of you aside during the concert. He smiled, he sang, he danced—gave everything to the stage like he always did. But the second he was backstage, drenched in sweat and breathless from the high of performing, his hands were already reaching for his phone.

Still nothing.

Back at the hotel, Soobin and Yeonjun made sure he ate. He forced down a few bites, just enough to keep them from worrying. Now, fresh from a shower, exhaustion settles deep in his bones. His muscles ache, the weight of the night pressing down on him, but sleep won’t come.

His phone sits beside him on the bed. You’re probably asleep. He tells himself that. He should leave it alone.

But knowing doesn’t stop him from pressing call. It rings.

Once. Twice.

He’s about to give up when the line clicks.

“H-Hello?” Beomgyu stutters, his voice unsteady. No response. His heart pounds as he pulls the phone away, checking the screen just to be sure. The call is still connected. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Beomgyu.” The way you say his name makes his breath catch.

“Are you okay? I’ve been—”

“Beomgyu.” You cut him off again, your voice softer this time. “Yeah, I’m… okay.” He hears you take a shaky breath. “I’ve just been thinking for the past couple of hours, and…” His grip on the phone tightens.

"What is it?"

“Maybe we should lie low for a bit? You’re busy, and you’re at the peak of your career.” A pause. “It’s not that I’m going away,” you add quickly, “I’m your soulmate, after all.” The last part is barely a whisper.

Beomgyu shoots up from where he’s sitting, running a hand through his hair, fingers pulling at the strands. He feels cold all over. His pulse pounds in his ears.

“Where is this coming from?” His voice is raw, edged dangerously close to panic. “What happened, Y/N?”

“Nothing, really,” you say too quickly. “It just… crossed my mind.” There’s a pause. A beat of silence that feels like a lifetime. “It’s late there. It’s 2 AM. Please sleep.”

His chest tightens. “Are you breaking up with me?” The words feel foreign in his mouth. His voice drops to a whisper. “Do you not want me? Do you not want this?”

“Beomgyu, please.” You voice wavers. “Our fate is certain. But right now… I just feel like it’s not working.” You exhale slowly. “You should sleep, okay? Let’s talk again… soon.”

And then the line goes dead.

Beomgyu stares at his screen, his fingers frozen, his mind racing to process what just happened. His chest caves in, breath shaky as he stumbles back onto the bed. And then—he breaks.

His hands cover his face, shoulders trembling as it all crashes down on him. He had a feeling when you didn't answer his call. A whisper of doubt, an inkling of fear.

And now, it’s real.

4 AM, and Beomgyu still hasn’t slept. His eyes burn from exhaustion, but his mind won’t shut off. He’s been texting you, calling you—over and over—but every attempt goes straight to voicemail. At some point, your phone must have died, or worse, you turned it off.

He lies on the stiff hotel bed, staring at the ceiling. It’s unfamiliar. Cold. But then again, when was the last time anything in his life felt familiar? Felt like home?

His phone dings.

He scrambles for it, heartbeat hammering, but before he can check the notification, an unknown number flashes across the screen. It’s stupid to answer an unknown call at this hour. Their managers had given them talks about it. But something—something in his gut—tells him to pick up.

“Hello?” His voice is hoarse.

“Beomgyu.” A pause. Then— “It’s Da-hee,”

His breath catches.

“She’s going to be angry if she finds out I called you,” Da-hee says, voice hushed, urgent. “But I can’t just sit back and watch this happen. Just listen to me. I’m going to tell you everything—from the start.”

"Please."

"Don’t think I won’t do it," she murmurs. "Just think about how I knew. Your name. Your workplace. Your parking spot."

She smiles, "Don’t test me."

You take another sip of whiskey, curled up on the couch, knees drawn to your chest. The tears won’t stop. No matter how many times you wipe them away, they keep coming, slipping down your cheeks, burning just as much as the liquor sliding down your throat.

Your thoughts won’t stop either.

Beomgyu.

He has everything—his dream, his career, a future so bright it could swallow you whole. He has the world at his feet. And you? You’re just… you. Not worth the risk. Not worth the detour. Maybe this was always how it was supposed to be. Maybe that’s why your paths were never meant to cross in the first place. You saw the consequence, felt it when you passed the Hybe building, that heavy reminder of the impossible divide between your worlds.

It should be enough. Enough that you got to know him, enough that he even knows your name. Enough that you get to see him on a screen. It should be enough.

But is it?

“Fuck,” you choke out, voice breaking. You press the heel of your palm against your eyes, as if that could stop the ache. “Just when I finally saw you… What a joke.” You shake your head, wiping your face with the sleeve of your sweater. “The universe is a fucking idiot for ever thinking we were meant to be.”

You take another drink, and it burns.

“Y/N.”

You blink up, vision swimming, to see Da-hee standing in the doorway, concern etched across her face.

“I’ve been ringing your doorbell,” she says, stepping closer. “I used the spare key—why are you crying?”

You don’t respond. You just stare at her, eyes glassy, cheeks wet. She moves toward you, eyes flickering to the near-empty glass in your hand. You’ve been drinking for hours. You already called in sick to work—there’s no way you could function like this.

"Oh, honey," She sighs, reaches for the glass, and you don’t fight it. You let it go. "What happened?"

“Fate is already taking back what it let me borrow.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but Da-hee hears it. She your holds your hand.

“What are you talking about?” she asks. “Explain.”

You swallow hard. Your throat feels tight, like every word is fighting to stay buried. But you force them out.

“A sasaeng,” you murmur, watching as Da-hee’s eyes widen in alarm. “She found out about me. She knows everything, Da-hee. Where I live, where I work, my family—everything.” You suck in a shaky breath, blinking back fresh tears. “And the worst of it, she fucking said she’s going to ruin Beomgyu.”

The moment the words leave your lips, your resolve shatters. You cry—like a child finally breaking after being scolded in front of everyone, holding it all in until no one’s around to see. Da-hee pulled you into her arms as you sobbed. You cling to her, hands fisting her sweater. “I have to let him go,” you choke out. “I can’t do this to him. To them. They don’t deserve this.”

Da-hee pulls back, her hands firm on your shoulders. “No,” she says, shaking her head. “You don’t have to do this alone. We can go to the police. We can tell Beomgyu—”

“And then what?” you cut in, voice hollow. “What can they really do? Stop her from telling the world? Keep every single person quiet? Even if she gets caught, the damage will already be done.”

Da-hee doesn’t answer. She just sinks onto the couch beside you, eyes shining with unshed tears, because she knows you well. She knows you too well—knows that the emotional version of you wouldn’t be able to hear her, not right now. Not until the sobs quiet down and the pain in your chest eases just a little. So, she just holds you.

Your phone screen lights up between you. Another call.

Beomgyu. He’s still calling. Still trying.

"I don’t think it’s best to answer it right now—"

But you don’t listen to Da-hee’s warning. Your fingers tremble as they hover over the screen. You have to end this. Now. While you still have the strength. Because deep down, you know—

If you wake up tomorrow, you might not be able to let him go.

“H-Hello?” He stutters on the other line, his voice unsteady. Your breath catches in your throat. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Everything. Everything is wrong.

“Beomgyu.”

I miss you. How can I go on without you?

“Are you okay? I’ve been—”

“Beomgyu.” You cut him off again, your voice softer this time. “Yeah, I’m… okay.” You take a shaky breath. “I’ve just been thinking for the past couple of hours, and…” You hesitate.

I’m not okay. I’ve been thinking about you, only you, and how my existence could ruin everything you’ve worked for.

"What?" His inhale is sharp, laced with the beginnings of panic.

“Maybe we should lie low for a bit? You’re busy, and you’re at the peak of your career.” You pause, fingers trembling. “It’s not that I’m going away,” you add quickly, desperate to believe your own words. “I’m your soulmate, after all.” The last part is barely a whisper.

I should be replaceable. And I shouldn’t be your priority. You press a hand to your mouth, as if you can keep the words from spilling out—keep the truth from bleeding through.

“Where is this coming from? What happened, Y/N?”

My heart is breaking. And you’re too far away to hold it together.

“Nothing, really,” you say too quickly. “It just… crossed my mind.” You pause, swallowing. “It’s late there. It’s 2 AM. Please sleep.”

Please sleep. And forget about me.

“Are you breaking up with me? Do you not want me? Do you not want this?”

I want you more than anything. That’s why I have to do this. If I can save you from losing everything, I’ll do it. Even if it means losing you.

“Beomgyu, please.” You voice wavers. “Our fate is certain. But right now… I just feel like it’s not working.” You exhale slowly. “You should sleep, okay? Let’s talk again… soon.”

You press the end button.

The sobs rip through you, shaking your whole body and stealing the air from your lungs. You curl in on yourself, pressing your fist to your mouth, as if that could stop the sound, as if that could stop the pain. How can love be this cruel? How can the same thing that made you feel so alive now leave you feeling so hollow?

But this is for him. You tell yourself that over and over, like a mantra, like a prayer, like a desperate attempt to make it hurt less.

You’ll do this for him. Even if it destroys you.

Da-hee wipes at her eyes, sniffling as she looks at you—curled up in the fetal position, your body tense like you’re bracing for impact even in sleep. She managed to get you into bed, but it doesn’t feel like enough.

She’d do anything for you.

Carefully, she tiptoes to the bedside table and picks up your phone. Her heart pounds. If anyone’s watching me, I’ll beg for forgiveness later. But right now, she comes first.

She types in your usual password. 8888. Incorrect. She frowns, thinking. You changed it? Then, almost without realizing it, her fingers move on their own. 0313. The screen unlocks.

Beomgyu’s birthday.

Da-hee lets out a small, disbelieving laugh. “You idiot,” she whispers, shaking her head. “You love him so much, and yet you’re willing to walk away. How can you be this selfless?”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she scrolls through your contacts, searching for his name. Her thumb hovers over it for only a second before she types his number on her own phone.

You’ll be furious. You might never forgive her. But if there’s even the slightest chance this stops you from making the biggest mistake of your life—she’ll take that risk.

Someone has to tell him the things that you can’t.

The line connects, and Da-hee inhales. “She’s going to be angry if she finds out I called you, but I can’t just sit back and watch this happen. Just listen to me. I’m going to tell you everything—from the start.”

She’ll prepare her apology later—more than that, she hopes Beomgyu will fight for you.

"I want to go home." Beomgyu’s voice is firm, but his hands are clenched into fists at his sides. His manager looks up from his laptop, brows furrowing.

The door bursts open. Soobin stumbles in, slightly out of breath—he must’ve run after him. Beomgyu doesn’t care.

Beomgyu already knows everything—Da-hee told him. Every sickening detail. And now, standing here, he has no idea how to fix this. No idol has ever come out of this unscathed. But none of that matters right now. His only priority is getting to you.

His manager sighs, already exasperated. “You’re flying back home in a few days, Beomgyu.”

“No,” he says, jaw tightening. “I mean now. I need a few days. To rest. To handle something personal.”

“You know your schedule is packed—”

“Then move everything,” Beomgyu interrupts sharply. He feels Soobin’s hand on his shoulder, hears his name spoken softly, but he shrugs it off. No one is stopping him from getting to you.

His manager sighs again, firmer this time. “We can’t do that.”

“You won’t even try?” His voice wavers between frustration and desperation. “You won’t even let the management know?”

“We can’t make last-minute changes like this.”

Beomgyu lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Right. Of course.” He clenches his fists. All his life, he’s done everything they asked. Pushed through exhaustion, smiled through sickness, showed up even when his body begged him to stop. “I won’t follow you on this,” he says, voice steady. “I can’t do this. Not this time. If you won’t let me go, I’ll still leave.”

“Beomgyu, let’s talk about this when you’re calm,” Soobin says gently, patting Beomgyu’s back. “Please.”

Beomgyu turns to him, his eyes dark with frustration. “I love MOAs, hyung. I love all of you. They gave me everything.” His voice wavers, but he pushes through. “But Y/N… she is my everything.” His breath hitches. He can't even explain it properly. How badly he needs you. “You’re lucky. All of you. Your soulmates—"

“So this is about your soulmate?” The manager exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “Don’t you see? She’s making you choose between her and your career.”

“No.” Beomgyu’s voice breaks, his chest tightens, and the lump in his throat is unbearable. “She’s not making me choose. She’s already choosing for me.” His next breath is shaky. “She’s leaving. Can you let your own soulmate leave?”

The room falls silent. Soobin watches him, stunned. He’d never seen Beomgyu like this before—this angry, this desperate. And the question stings the older.

Beomgyu turns away, blinking rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. Explaining further is useless. He’s already said everything that matters. Nothing is going to stop him now. When he steps into the hallway, he sees Yeonjun standing there, leaning against the wall.

He’s been listening the whole time.

Yeonjun immediately reaches out, tugging at his arm. “Yah, Choi Beomgyu, come on,” he says quietly. “Let’s talk with everyone.” Beomgyu exhales shakily. If there's anyone he owes an explanation. It's them. His brothers.

So Beomgyu told them everything.

About the sasaeng. About the threats. About how you were walking away to protect him. About how he refused to let that happen. And just like he knew they would, the four of them listened—not as bandmates, not as colleagues, but as brothers.

No one understood him better than they did.

They didn’t tell him to reconsider. They didn’t tell him to stay. Instead, they held onto him, arms wrapped tight, as if they could shield him from the storm that was already brewing. They prayed—not for him to change his mind, but for the world to understand.

Kai was the first to break. His voice barely above a whisper, “Is it really worth it… if the world doesn’t want us to have soulmates?”

It shattered something in all of them.

Beomgyu didn’t answer—not with words. Because what kind of world was it, where love had to be hidden? Where choosing your own heart felt like a betrayal?

With the help of his members, he managed to slip through the cracks, securing a last-minute flight. Now, as he sat on the plane, adjusting his mask, pulling his cap low, he caught his own reflection in the window.

Maybe it was time. Time to stop pretending. Time to stop hiding.

Because an idol in love isn’t supposed to be shameful. Because having a soulmate shouldn’t be treated like a scandal. Because loving you would never make him love his dream any less.

He just had to believe in MOAs. In the people who gave him everything. What he has with them, he treasures so much that the thought of baring his heart isn’t impossible.

And he would.

Completely.

He would trade it all, just to see you again.

The pounding in your head hasn’t let up, a dull, relentless throb that even the hot shower couldn’t wash away. You pop an aspirin, sighing as you press your fingertips against your temples, willing the ache—and everything else—to disappear.

Then the doorbell rings. Right. The food.

Dragging your feet toward the door, you barely think as you swing it open—then freeze.

Choi Beomgyu.

His face bare, a backpack slung over his shoulder. A car idles in your driveway, but you barely process it. Your eyes lock onto the messy strands of blonde peeking out from under his hoodie, his gaze searching yours. He looks at you like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he blinks.

“Y/N—” The door slams shut in his face before he can say another word.

Your breath stumbles. Your pulse pounds. The damp strands of your hair cling to your neck as you press your back against the door, fingers gripping the handle like it’s the only thing keeping you upright. Shit. He fucking looks good with his new dyed hair— wait. Don't think about that. What is he doing here?

“I’m parked out front,” his voice comes through the door, muffled but you hear it. “I just want to talk.” A shaky inhale. Then softer, “Baby, I’m here. When you’re ready, just open the door.”

His footsteps retreat.

You start pacing, your heart ricocheting against your ribs. He’s here. He came all this way. After everything you stupidly said. You hurt him yet—

The doorbell rings again.

You yank it open, “Wait, my ass—”

“Chinese takeout for Y/N?” The delivery guy blinks at you, holding up the bag.

“Oh.” You blush, embarrassed. You fumble for your wallet, signing the receipt with shaky hands. Your eyes keep drifting past him, toward the car still parked in front of your house.

Just like what he said. He's there.

The hours slip away unnoticed, morning fading seamlessly into afternoon. Every time you steal a glance through the curtain, he’s still there. Evening creeps in as you start making dinner. Without thinking, you plate portions for two. Your hands hesitate over the dishes, your heart heavy. When you check the clock, it’s 8 p.m. He’s been outside for twelve hours—silent, waiting.

Just like he promised. He never knocked again. Twelve hours. Your hands tremble as you turn off the stove. He must’ve just come from another gruelling day, looking like he’d stepped off a plane after hours in the air—rumpled, drained, and still without rest.

Why did you let him wait this long?

You don’t stop to think anymore. You grab your keys, shove your feet into your slippers, and head straight for his car, blinking back the tears that blur your vision.

He must see you coming because, before you even reach him, the car door swings open.

And there he is.

His hoodie is pushed back now, his hair slightly dishevelled like he’s run his hands through it a hundred times. His face is drawn, exhausted. His eyes—red-rimmed, heavy, like he’s been crying for hours. You swallow the lump in your throat.

“Come inside,” Your voice cracks, but you don’t stop. You just turn around and head back toward the door. You don’t have to look back to know he’s following.

He steps inside, his tall frame filling the space as you quietly shut the door behind him. Your apartment looks small with him around. When you turn, your eyes meet, "Beomgyu—"

You barely get his name out before he’s on you. He can't stop himself anymore. It’s how you looked outside, so effortless—your hair pinned up, the simplicity of your everyday clothes, and yet, you somehow seemed untouchable. He envisions a life with you, a routine, your soft smile waiting for him when he comes home, you looking like something angelic—his hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against him, his body heat searing through your clothes. His lips crash into yours—hungry, desperate, like he’s been starved for you. His mouth moves against yours, claiming, taking.

His fingers thread through your hair, tilting your head back as his tongue slides against yours. His hands roam down, gripping, pulling, making sure you feel every bit of him. He grabs your wrists, lifting them, wrapping your arms around his neck as his lips move to your jaw, then to your neck, his breath ragged as he nips your sensitive skin. "I missed you," he murmurs. Another kiss—hotter, deeper, his body pressing your back against the wall. "I got fucking scared you'd never open the door."

His movements were hurried, frantic, as if he were afraid you’d disappear if he let go. In one swift motion, he lifted you, his steps unsteady as he carried you to the bedroom. Your bedroom. The air felt heavy as he laid you down on the mattress.

"I get it. I know you don’t mean it—that you really believe this is for the best." His voice softens, almost breaking. He presses his crotch to yours, eyes seeking yours. "But did it ever cross your mind what I want? What I think is best for me? For us?"

“I'm sorry,” you said weakly, your hands clutching at his shirt, your voice trembling as much as your resolve.

"I'll always forgive you." His hands moved to your shoulders, then slid down to your waist, pulling you to him. He grinds desperately to you. You never knew that lips could talk without uttering a word as he captures your lips again and again. "Because your words could never hurt me as much as your leaving does."

You surrendered to his touch, your body softening beneath him. Your hands gripped his shoulders for balance as he pressed you deeper into the mattress, which groaned under your shifting weight. You reached for Beomgyu’s lips, catching him off guard as you kissed him with everything you had, tongues colliding in a heated frenzy. His hand slid between your thighs, cupping your middle and sending a shiver through you. But even in the haze of his taste, a heavy guilt settled in your chest. "Gyu,"

"I need you, baby. Or I'll go crazy." His breaths were ragged, syncing with your every moan as his tongue tangled with yours. Your fingers tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling him closer, urging him on. His body pressed against yours, grinding to yours, while his hands roamed over your skin, igniting every nerve he touched. His lips trailed downward, leaving soft kisses that melted into your flesh, a path leading straight to your core.

He stripped you of every barrier, leaving you bare under his gaze. His eyes shimmered with adoration and awe as they traced your body. You hadn’t realized how powerless you were against him until your legs parted, welcoming him. He's on top of you, looked at you like you were sacred, like you were his entire world.

Beomgyu's eyes never left yours as his fingers found your hand, seeking the place where the string was tied. The red thread appears, and he lifts it to his lips. A kiss—featherlight, reverent—pressed against the place where destiny tied you to him.

“It's going to be okay…” he whispered between kisses, his voice breaking in a way that made your heart ache. Tears pricked your eyes because you wanted to believe him. You needed to believe him. His hands explored further, his fingers shakily reaching for your clit, pinching softly then roughly rubbing, coaxing sounds from your lips that you didn’t know you were capable of.

"I'll fix it for us, for you." He looks at you—wanting to see every expression you make. He’s going to fuck you until you cum all over his dick and then he’ll do it again. Until you won't be able to think about leaving him anymore. He goes down further—kisses down and the smell of you is divine.

His face hovers and with his fingers he spreads you apart. He swallows—salivating. He sticks his tongue out, lightly licking your clit. You taste so—He buries his face in, tongue inside, hands on your hips. "Shit, you were really gonna leave me? And I was gonna miss this?" He groans, lapping up, sucking the arousal out of you. He moves up, nose bumping on your clit then he suckles more. His cock throbs with every taste of you, the way you melt against his mouth driving him insane. He feels you slick against his chin, but he doesn’t stop—doesn’t leave a single inch of you untouched by his warm, greedy mouth. It was as if your body had been crafted for his lips alone, flesh and heat meant to be devoured at his leisure.

When you tug hard on his hair, he groans against you, finally pulling back. His lips glisten as he moves up your body. He crashes his mouth onto yours, the kiss deep and hungry, and you taste yourself on his tongue—messy, desperate, a mix of him and you, blurring the lines between who’s devouring who.

“I love you,” he murmured as he positioned himself, slowly sliding into you. A low, guttural sound escaped him as he felt you, tight and warm, pulling him deeper. He's sure he'll come right there and then. His face buried itself in the curve of your neck, and his words spilled out—"I'm sorry it took this long."

"You feel so so good, don't ask me to stop, please." His touch was gentle even as his thrusts inside you grew more desperate. He cradled your head, kissed away your tears, and pressed his lips to your cheek. “I’m in love with you, Y/N,"

“I love you,” you replied, capturing his lips in a desperate kiss as you both unravelled together, bodies trembling in unison. Your thighs clenched tightly around his waist.

"Beomgyu, I— It was selfish of me—" You whispered his name and it made tears well up in his eyes. His hand gently pushed the damp strands of hair from your face, and he pressed tender kisses along your cheeks, your temple, and your jaw.

“Shh, no,” he whispered, pulling you against his chest, holding you like he was afraid you’d slip away. His lips brushed the crown of your head. "None of this is your fault," he murmurs. "But you have to trust me now."

All the horrors inside you dissolve with every kiss he presses to your skin, each one stripping away the fear, the doubt, the self-imposed distance. He kisses you like he’s rewriting everything, like he knows exactly where every shattered piece of you belongs. As if he’s memorized the map of your ruin and decided, you were always meant to be whole.

And you let him.

Because now, in his arms, with his lips claiming yours over and over, only pulls away when breathing becomes a necessity—his forehead pressing against yours for a fleeting second before his mouth finds yours again, as if letting go for too long might break him, you realise the truth—it was foolish of you to think that pushing him away would solve it all.

It was foolish to ever believe you could ever live without him.

Waking up with Beomgyu’s arm draped over your bare waist felt like something out of a dream.

The second you tried to slip away, he pulled you right back in, burying his face in the crook of your neck with a sleepy rough hum. His grip was loose but unwilling, like even in sleep, he couldn’t bear to let you go. He filled your morning with lazy kisses, tangled limbs, and muffled laughter, his fingers tracing over your bare skin.

You could live a lifetime like this and still never believe it was real.

Now, you sit at your vanity, dressed for work, fastening an earring as Beomgyu, fresh from the shower, tugs on a clean hoodie. He catches your eye in the mirror and grins as he walks over. “What are you doing baby? Dolled up and all.”

“Drying my hair,” you say, “I’m actually early today. Da-hee is dropping by later too, by the way.”

“Okay. I’ll drive you.” He leans down, eyes flickering to the hairdryer on the desk. He picks it up, flipping it on. “I know how to do this.”

You give him a skeptical look. “Oh, really?”

“Uh-huh. I could probably do your makeup too.” He presses a teasing kiss to your cheek, making you giggle.

The warmth of the dryer was against your scalp as he carefully runs his fingers through your hair, drying it with surprising patience. His touch lingers even after the dryer clicks off, his fingers gently gathering strands of your hair.

“I used to braid my mom’s hair when I was younger,” he murmurs. “I want to do yours too.” You nod, watching him through the mirror, watching the way he looks at you with so much quiet devotion it nearly steals your breath. "It will be an honour to do this every day for you, you know."

And just like that, you fall in love all over again.

You sit in the passenger seat, your hair loosely braided—the proof that he wasn’t just bluffing. His fingers lace with yours as he drives, his thumb idly tracing circles against your skin. Every time the car slows at a red light, he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “I love you,”

He grins, that same cheeky, heart-stopping smile. "Love you more," he replies.

You let out a quiet breath, leaning your head against the window, watching the world blur past. But then—out of the corner of your eye—you see it.

And your breath catches in your throat.

Rain Lilies.

Flowers that shine the brightest in the wake of the storm.

It looks out of place. You remembered last night’s rain. It had come down in furious sheets, drowning the streets, washing everything away. The pavement is still slick, puddles reflecting the grey morning sky. And yet—there it is.

Small. Alive.

In the middle of a city that never stops, where people rush past without a second glance, too busy to care about a thing so insignificant, so easily overlooked—it stands, untouched. A quiet defiance against the cruelty that tried to take it.

It looks out of place, and it's beautiful.

If something this fragile can survive and still bloom—maybe, just maybe, so can you.

"Hyung!" Beomgyu’s laughter rings through the air as he runs straight into his brother’s arms. They embrace, laughing like they’re kids again, the older one attempting to lift him off the ground. Behind them, his parents rush to catch up, smiles stretched wide across their faces. The house, with its endless stretch of green, looks like out of a memory—soft, a paradise.

Beomgyu turns to you then, his hand resting gently on your back. His eyes soft when he speaks.

"Mom, Dad," he says, "This is Y/N."

You bow politely, but before you can even rise fully, his mother pulls you into a hug. "I’ve wanted to meet you for so long, dear," she murmurs against your shoulder.

When Beomgyu’s father steps forward, you feel your chest tighten. He smiles, and for a second, it’s like looking at Beomgyu in the years to come. His hug is just as warm, just as safe.

Lunch is a blur of laughter and stories, of hands brushing, of Beomgyu sneaking glances at you when he thinks you aren’t looking.

His parents laugh along with your stories—the one about meeting his sweet members, and how Da-hee had begged to meet them in person. You describe her pale face, wide-eyed and on the verge of fainting the entire time, and how Beomgyu grew irritated every time Yeonjun jokingly flirted with you, insisting he should be your favorite.

But it’s the story of Beomgyu meeting your family last week that really gets them, how he’d been so polite, yet adorably nervous, his hands fidgeting in his lap as he tried to make the right impression.

His mom grins, her eyes bright with excitement. “I’ll have to meet them soon,” she says, already making plans in her head, as if you’ve always been part of the family. At some point, Beomgyu tells them you’ll be staying for the week. They are overjoyed, and Toto, takes an instant liking to you.

Beomgyu sits on the porch, it's evening now.

This deck—he’s spent years here—on this very step, staring out at the world, wondering when he’d find you. Wondering if he ever would.

His fingers tighten around the handwritten letter on his phone screen, the words waiting to be sent out into the world. His heart pounds. What if they don’t understand? What if this changes everything? What if—

Laughter drifts from inside the house, yours mixing with his mom’s, his brother’s. It was the only assurance he'd ever need.

He exhales sharply, thumb hovering for only a second longer before he clicks post. It loads. He doesn’t watch. Just locks his phone and sets it aside as the front door creaks open.

"You’re trying to escape me, cookie?" Your voice is playful, arms crossing as you step toward him. Beomgyu only grins, shaking his head at the nickname his father gave him. He slips an arm around your shoulders as soon as you sit down, pulling you while he presses kisses on the side of your head.

"Never," His fingers find yours, a new habit of his—thumb caressing over your ring finger. His thoughts slip to the diamond ring hidden in his dorm, the one he bought after a week of meeting you. He just needs to find the right moment, the right words. Because even now, after everything, you still make him nervous. The way his heart races when you walk into a room, how everything seems to stop for a moment when you look his way.

He meets your smile with one of his own. Would he ever be this lucky in another life? To find you, to love you—not by destiny’s design, not by some divine script, but by choice?

Even without a soulmate mark, even without fate—

It would always be you.

Maybe in another world, the sky is burning, the world is ending, an apocalypse, and he still falls in love with you. Maybe in another life, he is a man undone, a husband who shatters more than he mends, but even then, he would spend eternity piecing himself back together just to be worthy of you.

Beomgyu knows this much: no matter the lifetime, no matter the universe, he will love you. Again and again, without hesitation, without end. As if loving you is written into the very fabric of his existence.

His fingers graze your cheek, and you lean into him like you were always meant to—like the universe has been bringing you back to him for centuries. Your smile reaches your eyes, soft and certain. His missing piece. The better half of him.

Beomgyu looks at you, and to him, you are something that comes after the rain—the hush of the earth reborn, the golden light breaking through the clouds, the promise that even the chaos was worth it.

He can’t help himself. Not when you’re looking at him like that. Not when your smile is the only thing he ever wants to see.

So he leans in.

The phone sits forgotten, lighting up with messages—teary words, heartfelt congratulations, the world calling for him. But none of it matters.

Because right now, you are in his arms. Right now, he is kissing the soft of your addicting lips. And right now, that is all that ever was, all that ever is, all that ever will be.

THE END.

taglist: I love you @beombunni @lovingbeomgyudayone @virtaideen @hyukascampfire @fancypeacepersona @bamgeutori @lilbrorufr @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @xylatox @imlonelydontsendhelp @yunverie @baekberrie @soobabby @hyunelixbun @kejingken @blossommi @sumzysworld @tyunningstar @filmnings @channieismylove @frankghgr @missychief1404 @fatbixchwithanopinion @saejinniestar @brrytears @sbnslver @hoefororeo @pagelets @urlocal-moa @ewsnup @moagyuu @melmochii

[nameless-jamie]

Forgotten

Valentine's Day Special - Day 4 (1|2)

Glimpse into The Future series

A Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader (future)

Masterlist Valentine' Special

TW: cursing, kissing

A/N: Hello everyone my PC broke so now I have to post from my Ipad (like a proper Ipad kid) and so it took me a little longer to write all of the ff that I will post today!

Y/N was trying really hard not to be annoyed.

Eight months pregnant, still managing Jamie’s chaotic schedule (because if she doesn’t, who will?), and now, on top of it all, it’s Valentine’s Day.

And Jamie? Her fiancé, the man who is usually all about grand gestures, hasn’t even mentioned it. No flowers, no cheeky comments, not even a dumb heart-shaped chocolate from Tesco.

She had told herself, over and over again, that it was just Valentine’s Day. That it wasn’t a big deal. That Jamie had been busier than usual with training, the season was in full swing.

It was fine.

Except it wasn’t fine.

Because Jamie Tartt was not the type of man to forget any excuse to be romantic.

Their first official Valentine’s together, he had rented out her favorite café and covered it in fairy lights. Last year, he had taken her on a midnight boat ride on the Thames, complete with a ridiculous heart-shaped cake he had insisted on feeding her himself.

And this year?

Nothing.

Not even a mention of it.

She had been waiting all day for something—a knowing smirk, a teasing comment, even a dumb heart-shaped chocolate from Tesco that he grabbed last minute.

But when he had left for training that morning, all she had gotten was a peck on the cheek and a casual, “Don’t work too hard, yeah?”

And now, sitting on the couch, eight months pregnant and feeling more hormonal than ever, Y/N was fuming.

“He forgot, Keeley,” she huffed, her phone propped up on the coffee table as she Facetimed her best friend. “He left for training this morning, gave me a peck—a peck, Keeley!—on the cheek and said, ‘Don’t work too hard, yeah?’”

On screen, Keeley gasped dramatically, her eyes wide. “No way. Jamie? Your Jamie? The same Jamie who once wrote you a song on Valentine’s—and made the lads perform it in the locker room?”

“Exactly.” Y/N groaned, rubbing her belly absentmindedly. “It’s like… maybe he thinks now that we’re engaged and I’m carrying his child, he doesn’t have to try anymore. Maybe he thinks he’s already won me over, and now he can just—coast.”

Keeley winced. “Oof. Dangerous territory, babe.”

“Tell me about it,” Y/N muttered. “Like, okay, I get it. We’ve been together for years, and yeah, I’m not exactly in the mood for a grand romantic gesture right now—”

“Babe, you’re carrying an actual human. You deserve at least a grand romantic gesture.”

“Thank you! That’s what I’m saying!” She threw her hands up. “But at this point, I’d settle for anything. A little post-it note. A Tesco meal deal with a ‘Happy Valentine’s, love’ text.”

“Damn,” Keeley murmured. “He really hasn’t said anything?”

“Nope. Just texts about lunch, a meme about football, and a call asking where his lucky boots are. Oh, and not a single mention of the literal child I’m carrying, by the way.”

“Okay, that’s sus.” Keeley narrowed her eyes. “He’s either completely lost the plot or—”

“Or what?”

A slow smirk spread across Keeley’s face. “Or he’s fucking with you.”

Y/N frowned. “No way.”

“Babe. It’s Jamie.” Keeley raised an eyebrow. “He lives to wind people up. And he loves you way too much to actually forget Valentine’s. I bet you anything he’s planning something.”

Y/N hesitated. On one hand, Keeley had a point. Jamie did have a habit of winding her up just to see her reaction.

But still—he hadn’t even teased her about it.

“I dunno,” she muttered, sinking back into the couch. “I just feel… weird about it. Like, if he is planning something, why wouldn’t he drop any hints? And if he isn’t planning something… what does that mean?”

Keeley gave her a sympathetic look. “Look, babe. Either way, you’re getting answers soon. He’ll be home soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Then let him dig his own grave if he’s forgotten. And if he hasn’t?” Keeley smirked. “Then prepare to be very impressed.”

Y/N huffed. “I hate that you’re making me feel hopeful.”

Keeley grinned. “That’s what best friends are for.”

When Jamie finally got home, Y/N had prepared herself for disappointment.

She had convinced herself that she was overreacting. That it was just her hormones making everything worse. That it was fine if Jamie had actually forgotten.

But the moment he walked through the door, grinning like nothing was wrong,mall casual, and kisses her forehead like it’s just another day, she felt a fresh wave of irritation rise up.

“Hey, love,” he greeted, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before dropping his bag by the door. “Good day?”

Y/N stared at him. Was he serious?

“You forgot Valentine’s Day.”

Jamie, the audacity, smirks. “Oh. Was that today?”

Y/N’s mouth fell open. “Jamie.”

“What?” He shrugged, kicking off his shoes. “Dunno, babe. Bit of a commercial holiday, innit?”

Her jaw clenched. “You are unbelievable.”

Jamie smirked again, completely unfazed. “C’mon, love. You’re tellin’ me you really care about all that lovey-dovey shit?”

Y/N’s nostrils flared. “Oh, you mean the ‘lovey-dovey shit’ that you have gone all out for every other year? The same lovey-dovey shit that you have always loved making a big deal out of?”

Jamie hummed, like he was thinking about it. “Dunno, babe. Maybe I’ve matured.”

“Oh, fuck off,” she snapped, shoving his chest. “I hate you.”

Jamie just chuckled, catching her hands and kissing her knuckles. “Nah, you don’t.”

She glared. “I swear to God, Jamie—”

And then—there was a knock at the door.

Jamie’s smirk grew even bigger if possible. “That for us, you think?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes as she waddles over to open it. And standing there was a private driver.

“For Miss Y/L/N and Mr. Tartt,” he said smoothly, nodding toward a sleek black car.

Y/N turned back to Jamie, glaring.

“You arse.” She smacked his arm. “You did this on purpose.”

Jamie grinned, completely unrepentant and kisses her hand. “Course I did. Had to see if you’d still marry me even if I was a dickhead.”

Y/N huffed. “You are so lucky I love you.”

“I know.”

The car takes them to a private rooftop restaurant Jamie rented just for them. Fairy lights. Candles. A cozy setup with blankets because he knows she gets cold easily. Her favorite foods. Mocktails. And in the center of the table—a scrapbook.

She flips it open, and inside are pictures of them from the very beginning.

— A polaroid of their first date, Jamie grinning like an idiot. — A ticket stub from the match where she stood up to Mr. Mannion. — A tiny note she once left in his gym bag, which he kept. — Ultrasound pictures, with a note: Can’t wait to meet you, little one. Your mum’s the best thing that ever happened to me.

“You’re a menace, Jamie.” she sniffled.

“Yeah, but I’m your menace.” Jamie just kissed her forehead. “Didn’t forget, love. Just wanted to mess with ya a bit.”

And when he knelt beside her, hands on her belly, whispering, “Happy Valentine’s Day, little one. Your dad’s a bit of a knob, but your mum? She’s the best,” Y/N decided that, yeah.

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Jamie, you’re such a—”

But he cuts her off with a kiss, and just like that, all is forgiven.

Yup, she’d still marry him.

Even if he was a dickhead sometimes.

[practicalsuccubus]

Incorrect Quotes Pt. 5

Deacon: How did you read the ancient writing so easily!? Chase: I don’t know! I just let my mind go blank. Deacon: Well, do it again! Nox: You should have a lot of practice with that. - Deacon: So uh. Chase. What's it like dating Buddy? Chase: Well once I was sick and I asked him for some water. But he was pissed off of at me for not takin better care of myself. Chase: So he got me a cup of ice, brought it back to the room, set it down on the nightstand and told me to wait. - Nox: Sometimes a bitch just needs a hug. Chase: Buddy, are you the, um, bitch in this- Nox, ugly crying: Yes, please hold me. - Deacon: If you found out you had one day left, what would you do with it? Silver: Say goodbye and mend my relationships. Prunella: Something illegal. Chase: Accept my fate. Nox: I would message ten people and say if they didn't forward the text to ten more people, I would die tomorrow. Deacon: Jesus Christ, Buddy… Chase: That's fucking AWESOME, can I change my answer?! - Chase, jokingly in Episode 1: You’re not allowed to fall in love with me. Nox, seriously: Won’t be a problem. Nox, after the beach episodes: T H E R E 'S A P R O B L E M - Nox: When you've been a part of Ex Libris for as long as I have, you develop thick skin. Deacon: Yellow is not your color. Nox, as Chase holds him back: Yellow…reMINDS ME OF CHASE, YOU PRICK! - Nox in 'Still Waters': I have calculated our odds of survival and have decided not to share the data. - Medic: You’re losing a lot of blood! Quick, what’s your type? Chase: Oh uh, seductive smile, tall, sweet, Cancer… Medic: I mean your blood type. Chase: Oh… Chase: Squints at wound Chase: Red. - Deacon: What the hell is wrong with you?! Nox: I will try to be brief (1/425) - Deacon: Yesterday, I overheard Prunella saying “Are you sure this is a good idea?” and Chase replying “Trust me,” and I have never moved from one room to another so quickly in my life. - Chase, staring upwards after the Vampire Book: So, Buddy's mad with me over the Keys… haha… Deacon: Why are you looking up? Chase: I need to cry, but my foundation was 48 dollars! - -after rescuing Buddy/Nox- Deacon: Where’s Buddy? Chase: Around. Deacon: Around? Deacon: You don’t have any idea, do you? Nox: Did you know there’s a space above the ceiling?! - Silver: Chase, I know you snuck into a book to see Buddy last night. Chase: If you tell Deacon or Prunella, I swear I’ll melt you down Silver: Potato Chips? Chase: Fine.

[moodie-z]

more arcane serial killer au, this time with Mel

trigger warning: organ harvesting (mel), abusive relationships (Jayce)

Be warned Viktor is fully a serial killer and does serial killer shit to people no matter who they are. IN THIS AU HORRIBLE GRAPHIC THINGS HAPPEN TO ALL CHARACTER BECAUSE SERIAL KILLERS ARE HORRIBLE PEOPLE.

Also I AM BLACK

I have insecurities about feeling like my mind doesn't work right (it doesn't) and the idea of being an object someone else uses is comforting to me. I wrote this fic to comfort me, if this kind of this is disturbing to you that's why I added trigger warning

And if it isn't blatantly clear Viktor and Jayce are fucking monsters, they are serial killers I don't know what kind of romantizising Ted Bundy shit you've been reading to think a serial killer au would include anything but fucking monsters

Viktor eventually learned to hack into hospital data bases and found that one person had on their file a rare mutation that meant that their organs could be easily accepted into a person with any other tissue type, Mel Medarda

He was practically salivating with the ideas of all he could do with her body, not only the lives he could save with her organs but all the other transplants they deemed to risky to undertake, a woman who had lost her face to an acid attack could get a new face, a man who had gone blind years ago could see again

And what her genes could do, the thought of mixing her eggs with Jayce's sperm to create the peak of humanity, the final glorious evolution

But she was a piltovan elite and he was still just some researcher from the undercity

He runs to Jayce with excitement, "Jayce! Jayce! I need your help with something!"

Jayce still remembers the first time Viktor asked for his help, shy requesting such a minor thing as moving a fridge and now he's sure that whatever Viktor's request is is something that could easily put him behind bars

But this man still has a bomb in his heart so he tries to perk up and asks "what do you need me for?"

"I found the perfect body!"

"I thought I was your perfect body?" Jayce hates how comfortable he's become with this

"You're beautiful and kind but she... this woman... if her medical records are correct we could use her body to perform much riskier surgeries" Viktor nuzzles his face into Jayce's chest, ".... Cathy could finally get a face, Andy could see again"

A part of Jayce loved seeing Viktor like this, the Viktor Jayce once thought he knew who only wants to help people but when Jayce remembers the cost of Viktor's 'help' he's not all that sure about it

"Viktor you remember the rule we set up, you have to have at least 5 people waiting before you kill someone"

"that's whats so great about her, I could use every single part of her body... god it's amazing, Singed might want some of her skin, ooo maybe I could use her muscles to help with some reconstructive surgeries... I could improve my leg!"

Jayce sighs as he realises how far he's come to now give into the puppy dog eyes staring up at him, "and what do you need me to do"

"she's an elite politian, I'd never be able to talk to her. You have to draw her in for me"

Jayce sighs, this was the kind of work he agreed to do as he wanted to stay as far away from the bloody stuff as possible but dragging in a politian with no one noticing was a different challenge, "how am I even supposed to do that?"

"You can go slow, build up her trust"

"like you did to me?"

"and see it worked"

Viktor uses his organ money to get Jayce into some fancy money and Jayce has one job: to woo the most sought after person there

[macleod]

One of my worst traits is how much I love puzzles, by far one of the best things humans have ever accomplished. I'm not just talking about jigsaw puzzles, of which I have several on my walls, but all the other types. Video games, riddles, chess, wordplay, I especially consider coding and hacking and, especially jury-rigging things together, to be puzzles.

Why did I start cracking software at 10? Software puzzles. Why did I become a hacktivist at twelve? Network puzzles. Why did I transition to political activism? Social puzzles. Making electronic music? Audio puzzles. Building robots? Mechanical AND electrical puzzles.

Over the years I have left so many puzzles and clues for people to play with in so many seemingly benign posts, usually with links involved, where only a handful of people have ever solved them. I will continue to keep leaving them around, as its a lot of fun, but I feel like it needs to he said, that if you see a p.ost of mine, you should consider "oh fuck, did she just leave yet another clue to a puzzle to be solvd?" or "how/why tf did they mispell that?" obviously, I am always going to say it was a puzzle based endeavor (but, likely not, as I remain atrocious when typing on a touch screen).

Who knows, was this post a puzzle? are there three included? was my last post a puzzle, or was it a fake, a puzzle of failure, am I alluding to the previous ghostly post as a key to any that may be hiding? Or is it all for naught and a waste of time for the spectacle and exhilaration of possible discovery. Who knows. Can't say. ...or?

The only style of puzzles I have learned to hate is the Rubik's Cube, which is why I bought one two months ago, with the goal to get it, and yet the only thing I have learned is that I really hate the Kubes of Rubik.

[mscherub]

What Twst characters would say based on interactions I’ve had with my friends 👍

Characters: Prefect, mainly first years, mentions of others + professor(s)

Warnings:

Swearing, mentions of drugs, rude words, yall sorry for this—

Most convos were twisted to be a little more PG…

Also, I’m a girl and most of these experiences were at school and from my pov so if they seem a little harsh, MBBBB

KEY: Prefect is what I said in the situation, Everyone else is what my friends plus others have said <3

Chaos below the cut guys, good luck—

Prefect sits down at lunch table

Ace: ew, you’re here?

Prefect pauses

Ace: I’m jokinggggg

Prefect: bitch

MC sits down at lunch table, Epel has his phone out and has a picture of Vil next to a picture of Jeffrey star

Prefect: “Shit…”

Epel: “I know, right?”

Prefect: “similarity is uncanny.”

Messaging GC

Prefect: luv u guys, Gn <3

Ace: Fuck you

Prefect: Fuck you, too, dude, smd

Ace: love*

Prefect: KYS U WHORE, and I meant to spell it that way

Sebek: everyone go to bed

Messaging Gc again

Deuce: wht arw u gya ar

Ace: what did bro say

Prefect: mans is typing in hieroglyphics

Deuce: DID U JUST XALL ME TYPIBF HEIRIGOPLDUGIS

In PE

Epel: Y’all, don’t fall, there’s water all over the—

Slips and fucking falls on his face

Prefect: BRO, nice one

Epel: fuck you

In class

Prefect: can I see your work? I promise you I won’t copy like word for word, I didn’t have time to do the assignments last night

Deuce: wait…what work?

Prefect: …

Stares at each other for a minute than nods, sighing and looking away

Jack: what does “she hawked on my tuah mean…”

Prefect: uh, maybe don’t figure that one out

Sebek: I heard in response to a phrase like that you just say, “Skibidi”

Prefect: u know what…I’m done

Prefect doing most of the group work with the first years

Ace: Thank you my trusty slave

Everyone looks at him appalled

Prefect: what…the fuck

Ace: sorry, slave

Forgetting a literal child was there

Prefect: then I said, “you’re just a carpet muncher—“

Ortho: what does that mean?

Prefect: NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO, NOOOOOOOOOO, IGNORE THAT AHHHHHHH

Jack: I can’t believe you’ve done this

Ace: I hawk and I hawk and I tuah your house down

Deuce: you need to hawk tuah your way to therapy my guy

Prefect: I can agree with this

Ace: but, Prefect, aren’t you the therapist friend? Why haven’t u been helping me then…

Prefect: …

Internet goes out at school, supposed to take test online (I know Trein prefers old fashioned way but pretend for a bit…)

Trein: unfortunately we can not take the test

Everyone: Professor Trein, Trein— it’s fine, really, it’s ok :)

Prefect: eughhh, that’s a big bitch!

Points over at a guy who did ortho dirty

Prefect: eughhhh that’s a guy with a small di—

Sebek: HUMAN, DO NOT SAY SUCH TERMS, if you’d want to truly get back at him, let us go together to fight

Prefect: awww, Sebby

Some bitch is talking shit on Prefect and Jack, the relatively nice ppl of the group—

Ace: I called in reinforcements

Prefect + Jack: huh?

All house wardens proceed to come to defend yall…

Prefect: I’m…wtf, why…

Ace: they all hate that kid, too

Prefect: what—

Prefect: ALL I HAD TO DO WAS TAKE A PISS, BUT NO, I WALKED INTO THE BATHROOM AND PPL WERE SITTING IN SINKS AND IN THE STALLS SMOKING AWAY, LIKE WHAT GRADE ARE WE IN AND WE’RE DOING THIS?

Ace: that’s…rough

Prefect: I wouldn’t be surprised to walk into the bathroom one day and see someone snorting a Coke line…

Epel: nobody would be, believe me

In PE class again, everyone lines up on the line

“The fitness gram pacer test—“

Prefect: I just got war flashbacks

Jack: it’ll be fine, just breath through your nose and out through your mouth

Prefect: ITS NOT THAT EASY WTF, THATS LIKE ASKING ME TO BREATHE UNDERWATER

Prefect peacefully walking then— BAM, backpack gets pulled back by someone behind them, causing them to stumble back

Prefect: WHATTTTT

Ace: hiiii

Prefect: unhand me!

Prefect: Ace…Ace, Ace…ACEEEE!

Ace ignoring everyone

Prefect: dude…

Looks over in another direction and lies to get his attention—

Prefect: I see the bitch that u hate with the wig

Ace: WHERE?—

Sitting at lunch table, eating, cater pulls out phone and snaps pics

Prefect: wtf man

Cater: cause :)

Prefect: whatever…don’t post it on your story

Cater: :(…ok…

Does it anyways

Prefect and Grim walk in, Prefect carries Grim in arms

Prefect: how many hours of sleep are you all going off?

Ace: three

Deuce: three

Jack: three

Epel: three, don’t tell Vil

Sebek: three, as well, Human

Ortho: charged for three hours, battery levels are lower than usual…

Prefect: Oh my seven, we’re all like…twinning today!

Yayyyy

Grim slams lunch tray down which is piled with food

Prefect: dude…

Grim: I’m hungry

Ace: too hungry, clearly, ya big back

Walking back on campus back to ramshackle, wild turkeys square up around Prefect and Grim

Prefect: if this is how I die I’m not gonna be happy

Grim: I thought those were trash bags, oh well, let’s eat them

In locker room

Ace: smells like ass and chlorine

Jack: that’s oddly specific

Ace: it does tho

Epel: BE MANLY ABT IT BRUH

Ace: Kys

Epel: well damn

(Idk the context for that one)

That’s it cause I can’t think of anymore— and I know some of these weren’t that funny, BUT THEY ARE TO ME

Part two maybe :3 ?

Master List

[ashthewaterghoul]

Self-reblogging bc I wanna yap about these…

For Mountain, he was even taller in the Pits by about 18 inches or so. When he was summoned and crammed into a human vessel, it seriously fucked up his back and his joints. He relies on a cane a lot to get around and grows his own medicinal weed for pain relief.

Phantom’s partial blindness came from an accident back in the Pits where their Quintessence overcharged and resulted in the scar over the left half of their face, also taking most of the vision in that eye too. Their right eye is healthy but they often also get migraines from how much it has to compensate for the left eye.

I remember someone saying endo! and PCOS!Cumulus and I have loved it ever since (I can’t remember who it was though sorry, the post I originally saw on it was a long time ago)

Dew’s POTS and chronic dehydration came after his element transition. His own new element exacerbates his symptoms so it’s not uncommon to find him with Rain or the Ghoulettes as their elements make them run a little cooler.

I also hc Swiss’ vaping and smoking to have been a full-blown addiction and it fucked up his lungs and left him with COPD. The back pain is from the Year Zero fall lol

I hc Water Ghouls’ vision has a hard time adjusting on land and Rain was a deep sea Ghoul. His eyes never fully adjusted and he ended up with glaucoma. The kEDS is inspired by @thehypnone ‘s hc of EDS!Rain, and I just chose kEDS as I was looking up the different types.

Aurora seems like she’d have stomach issues… I can’t say why, she just gives those vibes, so gastroparesis and Crohn’s it is!

Cirrus gets asthma because Air Ghouls with breathing conditions feels right to me. And MCAS fits her well, methinks.

Aether’s banana obsession is a way for him to manage his diabetes and potassium deficiency. Also, I love @skele-bunny ‘s hc of diabetic Quintessence Ghouls.

Sunshine’s osteoporosis is in her hips and legs and it made standing for Rituals very painful, hence why she only did one tour. And the idea of her being such a bright and colourful person, yet being colourblind seems fitting to me.

Also tagging @fully-embracing-my-autopsy bc they helped me choose some of these also.

Random Ghoul Disability/Health Condition HCs

Mountain has scoliosis, arthritis & hEDS.

Phantom is partially blind & has chronic joint pain from their hyper-mobility.

Cumulus with PCOS and endometriosis.

Dew has POTS and chronic dehydration.

Swiss with COPD and chronic back pain.

Rain has kEDS and glaucoma.

Aurora with gastroparesis and Crohn’s disease.

Cirrus with asthma and MCAS.

Aether with type-1 diabetes and a potassium deficiency.

Sunshine is colourblind and has osteoporosis.

[jmkho]

Don't imagine Josh as he grabs one of his journals and talks to you about how he comes up with ideas. His one hand that's turning pages flailing about as he gestures to the air, talking about things that inspire him. Colours that inspire him. People who inspire him. Don't imagine that he tells you he draws his own designs of his suits. Don't imagine he gets a little shy as he says, "They...they mean a lot to me so, um...I try to make sure each suit has it's own story...". Don't imagine his face, a mix of excitement but also nerves as he passes you the book to the page of his newest suit design. Don't imagine him watching your face as you look at his design, reading his little notes. Don't imagine him saying, "Do you like it?" with an ever so slight edge of worry. Don't imagine his face lighting TF UP when you tell him it's beautiful.

Because it represents him. And he is beautiful.

Yeah, don't imagine that.

[just-null]

Wowie rly digging the yandere clone headcanons… how would each react if their darling tried to run away from them?!

You said tried so I assume this was a failed attempt!

Short answer: they get really upset and try making it your fault (shocker.) Ain't no way any of these mfs think they're the problem. Good news! you're mostly unharmed and alive.

This will just be purely writing bc i mostly had thoughts! sorry no drawing this time!!

[cw! mentions of potential harm to reader (no actual harm done), manipulation, toxic relationship dynamics (yandere flavor), obsessive behavior]

Sekido

You're always being hunted the moment the sun comes down and you don't return home in time. Reasons like that are exactly why he hates it when you part from him. 

This time is different.. he can't find you in your usual spots. There's no fucking way, right?

How could you.. No, how DARE you? Do you think that he's some joke? That his feelings for you are something that you can run away from like it's nothing? 

The second he's sure the sun won't harm him, he's already white knuckling his khakkhara, swinging at anything and everything in his path until he gets to you.

They know how to sense if you're near or not, hell, they probably know how your specific blood type smells like. 

Did you think cuddling up to you and memorizing every detail about you was for nothing? Don't be stupid. All he needs is a trace of you and he's gone in the blink of an eye.

You better enjoy running while you can because when he catches you, and he will, those legs of yours won't have much use after he's done with them. 

Sekido doesn't WANT to do this, but you honestly give him no choice. After he trusted you enough to stop looking over his shoulder, you do this? How can he ever put any faith in you again!?

On the bright(?) side, Sekido's rage wouldn't be solely on you, it'll ricochet onto everyone, especially the other clones and himself. 

They were supposed to be looking after you! But they can't do anything right, even a task as simple as this. 

And why did he think it was a good idea to trust them with something of big importance when all they do is fuck everything up!? Everyone's idiocy is rubbing off on him!

The entire time on his search for you, he's cursing and wanting to crush anything he can get his hands on, especially your bones. 

He doesn't even bother with speaking to the others, too busy spewing out all sorts of hurtful and frustrated comments about everything. 

The brutal thought that you’d rather run away than be with him isn't one he wants to entertain, but it's echoing in his head.

At least, once the other clones get there, Karaku and Aizetsu brawl with Sekido so you're unharmed while Urogi carries you overhead. 

Sekido's jealousy flares up when he sees you in Urogi's arms, making him even more pissed if that's even possible. Great, now he looks like the bad guy and the other three, the saviors. Fucking perfect.

There's a lot of yelling and a lot of blood, especially with Urogi making things so much more annoyingly difficult in the air. Karaku and Aizetsu aren't helping. Why is Sekido suddenly the problem?! You ran away!! 

But when he calms down enough, he's cursing at everyone through clenched teeth. Sometimes trying to convince the others that you don't even need your legs anyway!!

Once you get back home (or temporary prison until you somehow regain favor), Sekido will eye your legs while gripping his staff from time to time. 

Exactly why he's forbidden to be in a room alone with you for a while until he settles down..

He glares at you more often and grows colder than before. Arguments are more common where he twists your words just to have you talk with him and be angry within reason. 

Any other type of conversation makes him so irrationally upset that the others need to step in so that he doesn't lose his temper again.

Karaku

The calmest out of the group. He brushes it off as “you're playing hard to get” again, and if he makes a ruckus, you'll scamper back and beg him to stop like always!

Then it gets darker out.. and when Sekido left, he seemed pretty pissed. Like more than usual..... shit.

Karaku sprints after Sekido when it clicks that he's found you. His mind starts reeling, unsure whether he should laugh at the absurdity of your decisions or get pissed off because you didn't even bother to give a hint! 

Not like that would do anything aside from give you away but regardless!

Everyone needs to relax, this is obviously something they can sweep under the rug. This isn't that big of a deal and you're just having a fit, but things like these can get you hurt, y'know? 

They're fun and all, sure, just maybe give him a heads up next time, yeah? Sekido can't take a joke, you know this!!! Still.. There's a way Karaku can work with this.

He'll be able to swoop in, save you, be your hero, and remind you why staying with him is kinda important. Just in case you forgot~ 

You don't wanna be out and about without his charming grin and protective hold would you? Don't answer that right now, he has a feeling you'll say something wrong!

Yet.. what if you need a firmer hand to remind you of what Karaku provides? What if you got a little too comfortable being protected so you thought you'd be alright leaving them? Man, who knew you could be spoiled!

Because of this, he would purposely fumble, letting Sekido get near you just so he can stop him at the perfect moment. He purposely gets hit too and makes sure some blood gets near you. To remind you how that could've been yours.

When Sekido calms down, Karaku laughs in your face and would pinch your cheeks if you weren't up in the air with Urogi on the way home.

You should've seen your face! It was really cute~! Maybe getting scared is your thing? He'll note that for later.

He offhandedly advises you not to do things like that all the time, fighting Sekido always kinda sucks, but it's not like you actually had a chance of successfully running away so he won't chastise you too much for it. 

That's not his job, and his heart hasn’t pumped that fast in a long time.. not even in a fight! You're so amazing~~

And delusional if you think he's not going to milk this “heroism” thing back there for some extra affection points with you. 

Don't be so mean. he got his head blown off twice and jaw dislocated thrice, not to mention everywhere else on his body. Don't you think those parts of him need some extra loving? more than usual?

There's not that much Karaku can say after that aside from reminiscing like it was a funny story. He's not upset about it, mostly a little miffed you got kinda far without him noticing, but he gets over it. 

The usual routine starts back up for him when you're back home. It's like nothing happened, but he keeps a closer eye on you since everyone's so tense.

Urogi

If you're not home before the sun sets, Urogi's clawing at the walls with stress. He usually accompanies Sekido to go find you, but this time is different. Urogi could just barely tell you were around.. When Sekido bolts, Urogi's flying as fast as he can, trying to find you first. 

You're so far.. you must've gotten kidnapped!!!!!

The stress from before burns into anger, expecting to see someone having their hands on you while you're calling out in vain. How could he let this happen?! Damn sun! 

He darts through the skies even faster imagining it, and when he finally reaches you, you look.. fine? and alone. and looking at him like he's the danger. He's here to save you, dummy..

Urogi falls to his knees, burying his face against your stomach and finally wrapping his arms around you again. Your fists violently hit his head and yank fistfuls of hair back, but it doesn't phase him. 

Your comforting warmth is back, that's all that matters. And god, your smell.. it's almost making him dizzy. He missed you so much.

There's many holes to the story in Urogi's head as to why you're so far from home, but he fills them in with more convoluted delusions. It's just a peaceful reunion right now.. 

That is until Sekido finally arrives and starts swinging his khakkhara way too close to your fragile bones. 

Now he's back in defense mode where he scoops you up and tries flying out of reach. This is so stressful!!! There's lightning everywhere and he keeps having to dodge the multiple staffs thrown his way. 

He shields you with his wings as best he can while trying to stay in the air, so you don't get hurt during Sekido's outburst.

In the skies, it's much clearer to see the hurt behind the haunting glow of Urogi's eyes. Did you care about how he might feel? Did you miss him at all? Did you not feel loved enough? Did someone say something to you? 

As he maneuvers the sky, he holds you as tightly as possible, lightly digging his talons into your skin.

Being without you for a couple hours is agonizing enough on its own. If you HAD left him, abandoned, cold, alone.. he doesn't want to think about it. All that matters is that your kidnappers or liars or whatever influenced you are gone, and you're back safe with them!!! 

You.. you still like him, right? Of course you do, fate wouldn't force your paths together if it wasn't for a reason!

Coming back home is uncomfortably tense, especially with how violently Aizetsu kicked Urogi across the room, nearly through the wall, when he tried to lick your wounds clean. It really hurt! 

When you're patched up, Urogi is ten times as clingy if that's possible. He has his arms looped around you constantly so you can't stray too far, and if his hands are busy, he always has his wings!

As happy as he is that you're back, he can't help but cry into your chest sometimes. Everything is so tense nowadays, he hates it! How could you go and do something like that? Apologize immediately! Or at least hold him too? Doubt creeps in a lot, and your attitude isn't helping.. 

His mood swings are stronger. From sobbing uncontrollably into your clothes to being all smiles and radiating with joy the next just because you said something vaguely decent.

Aizetsu

The demotivation started to creep in the second you left. During the day, Aizetsu sits by the door, wanting to be the first one you properly greet. Sekido and Urogi usually bring you back and he'll be the one in your good graces without lifting a finger. That sounds nice.. 

But as the footsteps fade and the silence lingers, Aizetsu feels miserable the longer he waits... Hold on, silence?

Before he realizes what's happening, he's already dashing to where the familiar commotion is coming from. Dread sets in as his legs take him as fast as they can whilst being the slowest of the four. This doesn't feel like they're rushing over to you after a long day, it feels.. dangerous?

What did you get yourself into..? Why do you insist on going to places Aizetsu can't follow? Are you safe? He hates not knowing.

Usually you're the one who's fine. You deal with four demons almost daily! Please please please be okay. He can't fathom it if you were hurt. 

When he gets there, the puzzle pieces fall into place and Aizetsu gets even more depressed, but at least you're not hurt. Well, not if he interferes. His movements are sluggish, a perpetual frown plastered on his face as he tries holding Sekido down. 

Aizetsu wants to dissolve into the floor, and he does sometimes. Not wanting to fight Sekido off anymore, he slumps over. 

This could've been a regular day where you came home.. Are you serious? Leaving? How pitiful could you be to actually think you could get away? Or was it that you wanted to play some sick joke on them? Well, it's not very funny... It's terrible actually.

Aizetsu stays silent on the way home, walking with a bit more energy knowing you're near despite his heart ache.

You can feel the harrowing disappointment radiating off of him the moment you all go back home.

He's tired, annoyed, and so unbelievably upset. Aizetsu grimaced when Urogi got near your scratches with his tongue, so he “politely” ushered him away. 

Knowing a human's weak points is good in battle, but he started trying to learn how to heal them, specifically because he knew these types of things might happen.

As he cleans your scratches, he's actively scolding you for leaving in a cold emotionless tone. And by scolding, he's using manipulative language, trying to make you guilty for everything you did. 

He barely has the energy to live, but now that he finally found his light in the darkness, you want to leave? Is it so wrong he wants to hold onto what makes him even a smidgen happier than usual? He reminds you that he'll wither away without you, but he's not really too keen on dying just yet.

When he tries to get back into a routine, he just can't. He knows why you left, but he doesn't want to hear it. Even if you're sweet to him or not, he'll hold you from behind when you rest.

Looking at you is too much, but being away from you is even worse. Aizetsu compromises this way, but gets quieter, occasionally sniffling when he hides his face behind you.

There's too much going on and he's so tired.. If it weren't for the others, he probably would've held you so tight for so long so that you both would perish together.

Maybe that’s why he's only allowed to hold you when you're asleep. Just please don't do that again.. He NEEDS you. Please, please, please.

Safe to say you gave them a scare. When they double down on the protectiveness, living is ten times more difficult for EVERYBODY. when you lose their trust, it's pretty difficult to gain it back, but not impossible!!

Sekido and Urogi will always assume the worst if you're gone for too long while Karaku and Aizetsu give you a little more freedom until the others drag them along into their worries.