#Will I ever have time to read everything?

[knightyoomyoui]

The Price Of Becoming The Chosen ONCE [+18] (COMMISSIONED)

ft. TWICE's Mina (x Male Reader & other TWICE members)

TYPE: Fluff, Angst, Smut

WORD COUNT: 12064

REQUESTED/ORDERED BY: @vl-45

TAGS: cheating, blackmailing, sex slave, possession, harem, obsession

NOTE: One of the longest fics I've ever written because I really love the plot that OC has given to me. Thank you again for ordering and I hope you'll have a great time reading what I made for you!

DONATE OR REQUEST FOR COMMISSION HERE: https://ko-fi.com/knightyoomyoui

DESCRIPTION: It follows the story of YN as he goes through the challenges he has to face from the consequences of being the center of their decisions driven by their respective desires of claiming him, in contradiction to the thought that his life would only change for the better after being Mina's lucky boyfriend and getting introduced to the rest of the members.

==OO==

ACT 1

The crowd was packed inside the Ilji Art Hall, where more than a hundred ONCEs went for TWICE’s fan meet in accordance with their new comeback with “Strategy” featuring Megan Thee Stallion. Everybody started to find their seats and found everything all set up on the stage. The only one that was missing yet is the one they all came for.

They all went out and headed through the backstage. As the huge monitor began playing their MV teasers, they were given a go signal to begin entering the stage one by one. The crowd erupted in joy to see their favorite idols in person, waving their hands and presenting them their natural bright expressions written all over their faces.

TWICE were preparing themselves in a room. Some took this as a chance to rest for a while; others went for chit-chats or used their phones.

The manager then opened the door, signaling them that they can now enter the hall.

The girls made their signature greeting, and the remainder of the event followed. The fans were now given the chance to step up to the stage to get closer to meeting each member of TWICE and do as they please along with their own merch they want to be signed and gifts they purchased for them. Obvious to how they behave, the fans were rather shaking slightly in nervousness, acting strange due to shyness, while the rest were just calm and confident.

And that includes you.

Along with your recently bought Strategy album, including some TWICE-designed bubble fan with a penguin plushie, it’s definitely clear who is the specific person you’re most excited to interact with. You got to talk to Nayeon, Jeongyeon, Momo, Sana, and Jihyo… until it is time to move onto the next chair. She went to say goodbye to the other fan after you before she turned her attention to you.

Just like that, your composure that you’ve been preserving and holding since you arrived here immediately melted. You caught the first sight of Mina having eye-to-eye contact with you. It almost felt like everything went slow motion and blurry the longer you stared at her gummy smile.

“Hello, earth to ONCE?” She asked you, waving her hand in front of your face. You were even aware that you looked stupid in front of her, giving her the first ticket of making yourself an embarrassment. Your popping eyes and gaping mouth lowered down as your senses snapped back to the real world.

“O-oh! Uh- uhm, h-hi. Oh my god.” You quickly reshuffled yourself back into your proper posture. “I’m really so sorry, I was just-”

“Yeah, I get it. Still can’t believe it’s real, isn’t it?”

“Definitely.” You chuckled. “I don’t know if I’m just dreaming right now or not.”

“Wanna find out?” Mina asked you who didn’t get enough to respond quickly. Shortly afterwards, she lend her hand on you. “Hold my hand.”

“W-wha-” Mina just giggled at your malfunctioning state. She finds it hilarious that you’re acting funny with your panicking actions at the moment.

“We don’t got all the time, ONCE. If I were you I would take the-”

Without any further ado, you hurriedly put your fingers in contact to her hand. The touch sent shockwaves through your skin, goosebumps rising. “Holy shit, you are indeed real.”

“Language.” Mina shushed you.

“Oh s-sorry, pardon my bad mouth.”

“Hehe, it’s fine. It’s normal for adults to curse.” Mina waved it off. “I get it, you’re just too dumbfounded right now. Is this your first time?”

“Yes.” You answered with a nod. “I actually just had the opportunity to attend a fanmeet to finally see you girls for the first time. I mostly spent a lot of money just to get in here.”

“Aww I appreciate the dedication!” Mina was touched at your efforts. “May I know your name?”

“It’s YN.” You introduced yourself. “Been a ONCE since last year. I’m just new, I know but I did a lot of research to consider myself kinda knowledgeable about your careers currently.”

“You sure do love TWICE that much, huh.”

“Yeah, but mostly you are.” You quickly covered your mouth in surprise. Mina was left speechless at your confession between she teasingly laughed and amazed at your “accidental” remark.

“And I love the fact that I am your bias.” Mina expressed her pleasant reaction. “Great choice.” She gave a quick glance and a stoic look at the other members before laughing in which you can’t help but to join her.

“So what do you have for me here?” She switched the topic.

“Uhm I have my Strategy album here, I already heard all the tracks and I wanna say they are all amazing.”

“What’s your favorite track?”

“The title track and Like It Like It.”

“Ooh, we’re the same. High five!” She offered you again her hand, and it’s making you crazy knowing how lucky you are to get this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to not only hold Mina’s hand but also to also share a surreal hand gesture with her. This is literally a next-level interaction you got here with her, and how dumb of you to just let it go to waste.

You slammed your palm onto hers, and both were glad at what they did. She reached for your album and signed it with her marking pen before giving it back to you as its owner.

“Thank you so much! And uhh, lastly I bought this for you.” You presented her the penguin plushie you were also carrying. “I hope you like it; I tried to find one of it that is as cute as you.”

Mina was satisfied with your compliment, pursing her lower lip and nodding at it. “And you certainly did accomplish that. I love it!” She grabbed your plushie and cuddled it with a smile. You felt touched seeing your bias enjoying your present despite how simple it is.

The manager then went behind Mina and looked at you both. “Time's up, Minari. Sir, you have to proceed.”

“Hey, take out your phone,” Mina commanded you, and you complied, quickly searching for it in your pocket and pulling it out. “Let me give you a memory to recall that’ll assure you these all happen for real. Let’s take a picture.”

You raised your phone, with your cheeks flushing from excitement and bliss. It then went all tomato when you heard what Mina said afterwards.

“Pinch my cheek.” She poked her cheek twice as she leaned her face on you. You just want to at least give Mina a warning message to take all these carefully and not too suddenly, as you feel like you’re about to get your heart exploding in flattery because of the effect she’s giving at you.

“O-okay.” You followed, placing your fingertips and pressing them on Mina’s soft and smooth cheeks. You are breathing heavily as you do so. Raising your phone and clicking on the screen, it captured this unforgettable moment you have shared with Mina.

“Thank you so much, Mina! I wish you and TWICE all the best for next year!”

“Thank you as well, YN. It’s nice to meet you.” You and Mina exchanged bows at one another before you switched chairs and face Dahyun next. Even without your figure in front of her, Mina couldn’t help to still follow you with her gaze. It was like she was struck by interest she couldn’t describe.

You also were throwing glances at her through the rest of the event before it ended. It was a lot of fun seeing them being the usual happy go lucky type of a group which also shows that they seemed like more of a family rather with how kind they treat each other. As you made your exit in the hall and enter your car, you let out every emotions you were holding while being inside there.

“I can’t believe it, I literally got inches up close with TWICE and Mina today. Best freaking day ever.” You muttered dreamily to yourself before driving your car away back to your home.

On the other hand, Mina couldn’t help but to rewind back her interactions with you. She saw the potential of you being a great friend to get along with because of the quality of your attitude. It made her a little bashful when she silently admitted that she was more impressed, as along with your personality comes an attractive appearance as well.

Fortunately, the eyes of the fans along with their opinions aligned with Mina’s initial thoughts. Scrolling through social media, she found a couple of clips from the fan meet that feature her interaction with you from different angles. Checking the comment section, it was filled with numerous words from other ONCEs positively agreeing that she, along with you, has made a fascinating, adorable moment together, which made her grin.

It truly was suck when Mina remembered that she’ll never meet you personally again. That is until one day, she was proven by her thoughts to be all mistaken when she visited her favorite bakery shop. As she was about to order, she encountered a familiar face in the cashier.

“W-wait what? Oh my…”

“Oh, it’s you!” Mina’s face lightened. “You’re the fan I got to talk last fanmeet. YN, right?”

“No freaking way, she actually remembered my name?” You were in appalled at the mention all brought by her sharp memory.

“Y-yes, that was me.” You said. “It’s very unexpected to meet you here again.” said sheepishly.

“I am too, I didn’t even know you work here at my favorite bakery.” She admitted.

“Well I just moved here yesterday after I got accepted from the job. It’s just a part-time, want to find something worth my time to be independent of.” You shared.

“So you also live here close?”

“Almost.”

“Really? Well…” She gestured you to come closer in which you did. “This shouldn’t be told to others, but I just want to inform you that I also live around here as well.” She whispered.

“Oh. Wow, it’s really making me very lucky to see and talk with you again.” You said. “But uhh, why did you told me that easily for me?”

Your question had Mina baffled as well at her decision. She came up with a reason rather, one that she could relate the most. “I… I don’t know, well atleast I didn’t told you where I exactly live, you know.”

You scratched your head as you understood her point late. “Oh yeah, my bad. Boundaries.”

Mina agreed silently and giggled at your guilty demeanor. “It’s okay.”

“So, Miss Myoui may I have your order please?”

Mina spoke out about her preferred bread to buy for breakfast. You tried to maintain the good performance, especially since this is a hugely popular celebrity as one of your customers; you don’t want to put shame on yourself, this new job you have, and your manager. After placing them on the paper bags, you handed them to her, in which you received money bills from Mina.

After securing the payment, you greeted Mina politely. “Thank you for coming, Miss Myoui! Have a nice day!”

“You too, YN.” As she was about to step outside with her manager, she rotated her feet back to the opposite direction, approaching you again on the counter which perplexed you. “Is there any concerns, Miss Myoui?”

“Perhaps you’ve seen about how we are trending right now in K-Pop media. Did you see the videos of us from the fanmeet few days ago?”

“Oh that, yeah. I was stunned that we hooked most of attentions to us that day.” You shyly said.

“I actually think you’re a good person to hang along with, YN. The fans seems to agree and so do I.” She curiously stated. “If I say I’m giving you a chance to be friends with me too, would you take it?”

“Y-you want me… to be friends with you?”

You were mindblown at her invitation. What in the timeline of this universe are you living in? you thought to yourself. What deeds have you done for you to be granted to step into this situation, standing face to face with Myoui Mina, a member of your favorite girl group TWICE, asking you to be friends with her?

At first these are all a dream to imagine. As much as you wanted to ask her again if these are all real, you don’t want yourself to have trouble acting normally in front of her again. You just stared at Mina, completely astounded.

“Yes.” Mina repeated again that she has made the decision. She looked at her manager who is giving her cautious gazes but Mina looks to prevent and calm it down with her assuring one. “It’s fine if you don’t. I get it, it’s not okay for an idol to be closer with a-”

“I accept.” You cut her off to show how much willing you are. “I mean, who in their right minds wouldn’t want to have as someone like you in their life.”

Mina felt fluttered at your praise. She showed again her usual gummy smile. “You’re too soft-spoken for me.”

“Because you deserve it.” You shrugged.

You and her stared at one another before she bid goodbye to you and thanked you again for accepting her. In the middle of your job, you have lost your mind processing the truth that Myoui Mina is seriously one of your little amount of friends now. At the van, Mina was warmed to know that you didn’t care about the distinction between your roles in life as a basis for developing a close connection together.

ACT 2

“My manager would be here in 5 minutes.” Mina said after checking the time on her phone. “Thank you for agreeing to this, YN.”

You and Mina cooperatively took each step on growing your closeness together through various ways. Even if it meant for Mina to look like a complete anonymous person to the public with her black jacket, shades, and pants, as long as she got to be with you anytime you two wanted to hang out, it was no bother to her. Meanwhile, your respect and admiration for Mina’s determination of being a true friend who assures that she gets to be present by your side when you need her grows each time that passes.

The two of you would get to know each little detail about yourselves,, whether through conversations, hobbies each of you was joined to participate in, and sometimes deep talks where you and Mina would spill some worries that just can’t get out of your head and chest that easily.

Then Mina picked up this idea she had to strengthen your trust and make your bond stronger when she sent you a message that made you bewildered during your duty at the bakery. As usual, you wanted to reconfirm if what she said was true, so you asked her again. She really didn’t have any typos or a short out-of-trance moment while she was constructing the message: she actually wants to bring you to their dorm.

Her reason: she admitted that hiding her identity in the public, which wasn’t her cup of tea to be in, is draining her. That’s why she requested you to do something for her this time, which you considered a test as well to observe how you are engaged to allow Mina to spend some time with you as a friend personally.

Without any hesitation, you granted it. You showed up at her meeting place, the coffee shop she chose. Your presence immediately plastered joy on her face.

“No problem. I should do the same for you this time, you know.”

“I thought you’ll protest or reject my invitation because of how absurd it is.” Mina retorted in a tensed manner. “But I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Actually I did thought you didn’t meant it or what. Maybe you have forgotten about the line we don’t have to cross, or yeah let’s say privacy.” You said calmly. “Like, why would you let me be in to your own personal space, Mina.”

“You’re not a stranger to me anymore, YN. You’re my friend.”

“I know. But sometimes I do feel like I’ve barely been known yet for you to trust me this much. I don’t deserve this special treatment I’m-”

“Stop it.” You felt chills when Mina looked at you seriously. “You are already special to me. Think about it, how many ONCEs I had to be close and accept them in as my friend from outside. Nobody but you, that’s why whatever you at it, you deserved to receive it from me because you’re lucky to be.”

You nodded, Mina’s assurance effectively comforting you. “Why I get to be the one then, Mina?”

“Why do you ask? Do you hate it?” Mina subtly looked at you.

“N-no, I just… I just wanna know what did you truly see in me that makes me be the deserving one to know everything about you.”

Mina became silent for a moment as she thought about it. She avoided her gaze to rewind and search for clues she could provide as a reasonable answer aside from your good personality.

“Tell me first, why did you came here to be with in the first place then?” She threw the question back at you.

“Because… I want you to keep believing in me.” You replied. “I don’t want to destroy everything that makes me who I am for you, it would be as if I just let this opportunity to become friends with you to be ruined. I… want to keep you around me, Mina.”

Mina reciprocated your hug to her and buried her face more at your chest. “Seriously, YN. What are we now? I… This feeling I have, I know it’s more than just a friend for you. It may be wrong for others, but I couldn’t help it.”

Mina’s serious expression transitioned into a beaming one. She stepped closer to you and looked up to meet your eyes. “There it is. Why should I be asked if you already knew the answer yourself? I just simply like everything about what you do, because we both know that I’m the motivation for all of it, not because I’m your bias from TWICE, but because I’m just me, a girl named Mina.”

“And to give you one as well, I want us to be fair here.” You couldn’t help it; Mina felt her breath taken away when you trapped her in your embrace. She felt so little around your arms, and she loved how cozy and warm it is to be stuck with you.

“For the first time in my life, I’ve never felt so valuable in someone’s life. That’s why I’d like to be in your company, because you’re giving me purpose to keep on living, not only because I have to strive for my own deficit, but to show that I am also important at who I am.”

“Let yourself fall, Mina. I’ll be here to catch you anyway.”

Both of you stared at one another, as you can view Mina’s surprised reaction that you do share a mutual agreement at her feelings for you. You winked at her and grinned before you continued. “But, let’s just go with the process. We can take things slow. Then, if we’re ready, we can do as we please.”

Mina nodded and giggled at the wonderful idea. “I absolute love that.”

You kissed her hooded head and hugged her tighter, just seconds before her manager and driver stopped the van in front of you two. “Hop in, lovebirds.” She already teased you both, in which you have failed to make yourselves look innocent.

The ride wasn’t that long as like Mina said, she was actually just a bit close to where you live. Upon your discovery, TWICE are currently staying this is giant luxury hotel around your area. The van entered the gates and it parked in front of the entrance.

“Hurry, we might get seen.” She immediately led you both to the elevator in which Mina can now remove her mask as hoodie safely.

Reaching the floor they inputted on the buttons, you knew that you are feet up from the ground because of how slightly tensed your legs are acting through every footstep. Manager unnie stopped in front of one of the doors and unlocked it.

“Thank you, unnie.” Mina greeted.

“Go ahead, you two. And oh…”

Both of you halted.

“I’ll just gonna pretend I didn’t saw what I’ve seen earlier.” She smirked before entering her room, leaving you both shy from being caught.

“Well that’s a pretty lame start on making ourselves look obvious.” You commented, Mina chuckled.

“This way.”

Mina approached the last door at the end of the hallway, she inputted a passcode on it before it unlocked. You felt even more nervous to enter knowing that you’re about to step onto the place where you only just used to see from their vlogs.

“Come in.”

“H-hello.”

“U-uhh, o-okay.”

You stepped inside and removed your shoes. A short hallway greeted you at first before you followed Mina behind to pass through it. After you reached the brighter end, the entire wide area of their room emerged, and in your overwhelmed state, you got to see some of the other members in the living room, just in their simple house attire.

Jihyo and Sana are just watching TV on the couch while Tzuyu is studying something on her phone based on the pen and notebook she had prepared in front of her. As they felt Mina’s arrival, they all got to see you as well, which made them panicked.

“Oh, Mina! And you, the famous ONCE who a fanboy of our penguin here.” Sana cheerfully pointed at you in which you bowed in return.

“Welcome to our house… YN, correct?” Jihyo asked for clarification.

“Yes.”

“Not saying noona, I see. Are you older than Nayeon unnie?”

“A year older.” You confirmed.

“Oh, interesting.” Jihyo nodded. “Well, hi again. Make yourself comfortable, okay? Mina, why don’t you make our guest comfortable around would ya?”

“Okay, unnie. Thank you for allowing me to bring him in.”

“Always for you, Minari.” She responded which both of them smiled. You and her went to the kitchen. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to your idea, Jihyo and Sana were sharing the same sentiment.

“Yeah, it’s a wise choice to allow him here.” She meant in a different meaning, bouncing her eyebrows and smirked.

“Right? He really does look handsome up close.” Sana agreed.

Tzuyu can hear her unnies’ conversation, and even she couldn’t blame them for being like that. She almost got distracted at her lesson in psychology class when her eyes landed on your impressive figure present in front of her.

Back at your situation with Mina, she offered you a seat, which you gratefully took. She poured a glass of orange juice per your request and instantly made you a sandwich. As you sheepishly ate the food, Mina just admiringly watched you.

“You can just say if you want more, okay? Feel free and get used being around here because from now on you’ll be in here frequently.”

“Uh… I won’t object anymore if that’s what you want to happen. I actually would like to meet the other members as well.” Your die-hard inner ONCE wishing for a miracle to become close with them speaking for yourself, because it knew that this is the perfect fantasy for you to live onto.

“Some of them are in their room, but Jeongyeon unnie and Dahyun aren’t around though. One is in her family house and the other is currently filming her movie.”

“Oh okay. I actually don’t expect them to be all around here anyway, I know all of you have different schedules and busy with your own solo projects occurring.” You said. “I’m contented enough to atleast get to meet the others.”

“Speaking of right timing.” Mina turned her attention from your back. “Hai Momo chan”

“Oh, you brought your boyfriend with you.” She teased, making Mina blush in heat.

“We’re just friends…” She defensively said under her breath.

“So far.” You looked at her to join along Momo’s playful antics and Mina glared at you to stop in which you wheeze internally.

“Hi, nice to meet you. You must know me already, but for formal manner, let me do the honor again. I’m Momo.” She lend her hand on you.

“YN.” You touched her hand. It lasted for seconds, you swore it would be just a while but it felt like Momo tightened her grip a bit more. Mina’s fake cough startled you both which Momo gave in to the gesture. “Sorry, I noticed you have a large hand and your grip is strong. You’re working out aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Actually… I kind of got inspired of you and Jihyo’s workout clips I’ve been seeing in my feed so yeah.”

“Oh, really? Woah, that’s great! Momo laughed at the revelation. “Glad that we could also influence others for body fitness. Health is wealth, as what they say.”

“Yeah it did helped me a lot to feel better.”

“Hey, if you like. Maybe you can ask permission to your girlie there and join me and Jihyo, we could use some gym buddy to drag along and introduce you to some other techniques to get fit.” She playfully punched your arm lightly and you chuckled.

“Momo…” Mina groaned at another attempt of her bestfriend making fun of her.

“Hehe, sorry. Anyways, are you in, YN?” She crosses her arm, waiting for your decision.

“Yeah, I could get used to adapt some other exercises.” You said.

“Great! Now excuse me, I would like to grab my mac and cheese on the fridge.” She said.

As you and Mina continued to talk, Momo was sneaking glances at your concentrated manner at her bestfriend while speaking. Just like the previous three co-members of hers, her curiosity piqued at the charm you possess.

“I should be the one who is thanking a lot here, Mina. All of what transpired today, I’ll never forget it. This is what I dreamed of, to meet you all and I knew before that knowing you girls personally would be like once in a blue moon but… you girls changed my life and made it possible. And its all because of you, Mina. Take all the credit, it’s yours.” You stated, breathing deeply to sink in everything that you have encountered today.

She left the kitchen with her bowl of food, crossing paths with Jihyo and Sana looking at her as they gestured the direction, referring to you. Momo just mouthed “wow” and lifted her eyebrows while grinning, in which they chuckled. Returning to her room, she took a mental note to prepare anytime once you visit.

During your hours of stay in the dorm, you also get to meet Chaeyoung and Nayeon, who were busy at their stuff in their respective rooms. They asked you some things regarding being a fanboy for their group and shared how this all still feels surreal for you. Understanding the luck you have, they just laughed and assured you to provide what brings you comfort and peace being with them.

As the sky starts to get darker, Mina escorted you in the lobby of their hotel. Stopping in the middle of the space, she looked at you and smiled gratefully. “Thank you for coming, YN. I really appreciated you being thoughtful to me.”

Mina bowed and held your arm. “About us… we’ll get there, right?”

“I know we are. I won’t let it end anyway.”

You bid goodbye to her as the manager instructed you to enter their service van. Mina watched you depart as she remained in her spot. Mentally, she wished you a ride home safely.

Unbeknownst to the both, all other six members were gathered in the living room, exchanging their first impressions about meeting you.

“He looks pretty cute and a hottie too.” Momo said. “I was almost caught getting blank for a second there, the more I just at his face it’s like… it’s sucking me into his facial features. Good thing I found an excuse to save myself in humiliation there.”

“What got me rather is how huge he looked.” Nayeon bit her lip hungrily, eyes darting sideways. “He looks like a buff baby, and God what I’d give to have a muscle guy like him and crush my head around his triceps.”

“Yeah, we get it. It’s your type unnie, but I think you have to get through us first.” Chaeyoung interrupted. “You made some good points though, damn I’d wish he’ll destroy me with his size.” She shut her eyes and smiled lewdly.

“Woah Chaeng, getting there already?” Jihyo was amused.

“But… I think YN is into Mina unnie already.” Tzuyu joined the chat. They all looked at her and those words had them in dismay. “From how they’ve been so close together earlier, it’s no denial he’s into her.”

“Yeah, but… would Mina be the same?” Sana asked.

“She probably is.” Nayeon said. “Sucks that we all went head over heels already for one guy who is already taken.” She chuckled with a bitter taste.

Mina then opened the door of their dorm, making them pause the topic. “YN is on his way home now.”

“Good. Mina, you sure did pick a good man aren’t you?” Jihyo said.

“I have no regrets, unnie.” She smiled before disappearing to her room.

They all looked back at one another, sharing the same thoughts. However, their expressions is displaying mixed emotions for their beloved friend and sister-figure.

“She is indeed attracted to YN.” Sana said.

Throughout the next weeks, your visit to their place has become regular as suggested and planned. You also finally got to meet Jeongyeon and Dahyun when they were fortunately present in the dorm, taking a break from their hectic schedule. Without your knowledge, the two also suppressed similar interest towards you, much like the others.

Being often at their place granted you the opportunity to form a close connection as well with the other members aside from Mina. It was a great thing to discover their personalities more aside from what you just speculated through seeing them on the media with their content and projects. The consequence of that, however, is that you weren’t aware that you’re transforming into a chick magnet, with how the girls are now attracted to you both perspective-wise and emotionally.

And the best aspect you have attempted with her is introducing yourselves to having sex. You have seen Mina being a bit nervous and scared at your first take with her, which is a relief that it still ended on a positive note, pleasing you in a new direction.

For example, in Nayeon’s case, she would find herself sneakily touching your built physique when she finds a chance to do so. Jeongyeon’s heart throbs when you shower her with compliments regarding your appreciation for her appearance despite the struggles she went through; Momo would position herself to showcase her sexy figure whenever you work out with her.

Sana and her clingy personality, where she’ll just randomly hug you anytime only to get a touch of your muscles, Jihyo started wearing tops that break her cleavage free whenever she learns you’ll be coming after observing you one time inevitably peeking at her assets in the gym, while Dahyun, who is aware of her curves, began using skin-tight dresses that trace her sculpted hourglass figure after admitting that it makes her look fabulous.

Lastly, the two other maknaes, Chaeyoung and Tzuyu, who love getting praised for being great at what they are, have frequently shown you in an eye-catching manner.

They knew what they were doing was wrong since you and Mina are undoubtedly about to develop a bond that is sweeter than just being friends, but it’s so irresistible when they just have to rarely have some guy around with them and it turns out to be hotter and more accurate than the dream guy they wanted to love in the future. They were just being a little hesitant, limiting their actions at first on what they were doing, brought by their dilemmas, until they couldn’t hold it in anymore.

The more you pull them closer into you, the more they want you for themselves to claim and won’t let go.

In the midst of their methods of alluring and flirting towards you, their speculation went true as you and Mina called it official to be a couple months later. Living into the promise that both won’t hold back now that you are now in a relationship with the ideal woman you always wanted to date, you and Mina explored ways to make this journey with her more desirable.

What do you mean by that is the amount of circumstances where she would beg for your cock anytime she gets a free time to unwind or taking you to different places aside from your house and look for a spot to fuck. There is none that she’ll not make you satisfy her being full of cum whether in her holes or through her flawless skin.

Spending a vacation in a private resort with her, other TWICE members and staffs became a usual day for the both of you to have some sex whenever the urge brings you both together. After chugging your fifth alcohol and the combination of Mina being needy for you, she led you in one of the trees away from the group and pounce at you like a hungry animal.

Mina planted kisses around your topless body all the way from the bottom to the top where she turns herself to your neck and mauled at it. You guided her head deeper into your skin before you had enough and brought her into a wild make-out session. Lips colliding, tongues swirling, and saliva connecting your warm mouths controlled with lust.

“I need you so bad right now.” Mina said as she caressed your abs while your foreheads are pressing to one another.

“We don’t have much time, Mina. Let’s get this done or else might get caught by them.” You said as you pecked her lips again.

“Just promise me we’ll continue this later when they sleep.”

“We can.”

Mina absorbed your powerful manhood into her snatch, encircling it with immense tightness. She moaned as you began to thrust your hips again and pick up the pace slowly.

Mina went on her knees as you lower her down with your hand on top of her head. Along her movement, she dragged your lower garment on your feet, exposing your raging cock now in its maximum size ready to be serviced by your horny girlfriend.

She grasped it from the base and performed an introductory stroke before putting the mushroom tip on her puckered lips as she inhaled your scent. Mina pushed forward, the shaft now lodged inside her mouth, and began her blowjob as you held her head for assistance.

You quickly buckled your hips to hurry this up, not giving a damn about Mina’s gag reflex from how you hit the back of her throat repeatedly. She clung tightly at your waist as you used her for your own pleasure, admiring your rough treatment that satisfies her as well.

The girth of your manhood is being coated with saliva by her flirty tongue as she takes you all in, desperate for your incoming reward for her efforts. She looked up at you, confirming that her performance is sending wonders to your senses just by the look of your lustful face.

Thrusting your hips further, Mina’s nose is now bumping at your crotch. She then felt your length twitching in her mouth, a familiar signal of what’s about to happen afterwards, a very anticipatory one.

Gripping her hair, you stuck your cock in her mouth as you filled it with your creamy deposit. She lost the number of times you fired straight through her throat, but she didn’t care; all that matters is that she get to receive it all by herself.

You gently slid in your slimy cock at her mouth. Mina opened her mouth to present a pool of cum. “Swallow.” And she did exactly as you told her, gulping it easily before releasing her mouth to prove no leftovers.

“Good girl. Now get up and bend your ass for me, babe. Let’s finish this.” You helped Mina to stand and changed positions. Mina is now facing the tree and bending slightly for you.

Kneeling behind her, you quickly undressed her swimsuit to unveil her plump ass that made most ONCEs go crazy when she twerked it like a professional during their concert. You feel bad for some who are dying to grab a handful of these tasty buns, but now you’ll fulfill their wishes by taking these into your own hands.

You sniffed her ass for a second and slapped both really hard before you got up and rubbed your length across her valley. “Place it in me, please.” You wasted no more time as you pushed it forward inside her inviting hole.

Her arms embraced the tree as you pummeled through her rear, deliciously watching her skin ripple as you collided your skin into hers. It creates wet slapping sounds that both of you are getting turned on more by.

“Ugh yes yes fuck, you’re so big inside of me, YN.” Mina whimpered as you glided your hands through the surface of her godly sculpted back. Bracing yourself, you wrapped her body close as you fucked her ass faster.

The volume of her moans and stutters increasing. “Sshhh be still or somebody might find us here.” Mina then closed her mouth, her muffled screams as her ass continously being filled to the brim by your magnificent cock.

“Shit. I’m about to bust, Mina.” You went all in to your rhythm, sending her body vibrating at your rough hammering. A last plopping sound, and your crotch pressed at her tempting asscheeks as you unleashed another load of cum inside of her.

Mina huffed as she felt your cock exit her hole and some cum pouring out from her used passage. You scooped some and have Mina taste it to make every drop count.

You both put back your undergarments. “Let’s go, they must be looking for us now.” you said as you pulled Mina with you out of the woods.

ACT 3

Few days later, you were chilling at the kitchen stool, watching some memes at your phone to entertain yourself. Mina is currently at Japan to join her parents visit her late dog’s resting place since its his death anniversary if you remember correctly. You decided instead to hang out with other members to spend your free time.

Footsteps approaching, you turned around to see Momo now changed into her oversized t-shirt after working out with you earlier. She took the chair beside you.

“You can use our bathroom if you want to wash yourself.” Momo said as she noticed your body now dried up from getting sweat drenched at lifting weights.

“Nah I’m good, I’m about to leave now anyway. I can just wash at my home later.” You replied. “Why, do I stink?”

“Yes, it makes me want to puke actually.” She fake acting like she’s having nausea. Seeing your offended and sheepish reaction broke her out of laughter. “Just kidding, you still smell great.”

She leaned closer, sniffing your neck to confirm it, yet again oblivious to her true intention, her burning temptation influencing her to take measures that will get you real good.

“Yeah, you smell manly as ever.” Momo muttered. You stiffened, awkwardly letting Momo breath closely at your skin.

“Thanks, I guess.” You thriftly smiled.

Momo just tightened her lips and just watched you scroll through your Instagram feed. She prepared herself first as what she made sure to remember last time before proceeding with her main agenda of interacting with you.

“How are things between you and Mina?”

“Pretty smooth. I’m glad we could manage despite her busy schedules as an idol.”

“That’s good, yeah. What about being careful, have you guys always ensure that this thing between you and Mina remains private?”

“We do, we haven’t being caught yet or so does her by the K-Media, like we know Dispatch is famous for spotting idols meeting up with mysterious person. Yeah, I haven’t got any news yet about Mina having a rumored boyfriend. So yeah, we’re safe.”

“Oh. Even the people around you aside from the media whenever you guys outside?”

“Positive.”

“Is that so.” Momo pulled out her phone and opened it. “Can you explain this to me then?”

Momo stole your attention from your phone as she made watch a video playing in her device. To your shock, it features a recording of you and Mina having sex secretly in the resort.

“What the-” You said as Mina getting backshot from you illuminated through your eyes. “H-how did you get this?”

“I followed you both shortly after you two left, I was heading to the bathroom for a piss break when suddenly… I heard some moans and clapping sounds near me.” Momo recalled.

“Then this is what I found.” She told you seriously. “Now tell me, where’s the cautious part in there?”

“Momo, it’s not that-”

“I don’t give a shit if you two are having sex in public area, I just want you to think that what if it’s not me who saw you both and instead either some personnel from the hotel or one of our staffs? What would you do if this gets out of hand and get you both exposed by this act?” Momo scolded you.

“It’s Mina who brought us there, okay? It’s not like I wanted us to fuck there. I was telling her that we can do this later but she didn’t listened.” You defended.

“But it’s your responsibility as a boyfriend to remind her what’s right. Mina can be stubborn sometimes, I know her like the back of my hand already, so you should know better as well now that you and her are now together.” Momo stood by her point. “What made you to let her? Were you scared that you won’t get that fuck she’s craving for because she’s sulk-”

“Enough!” You slammed your hand on the table, pent up by her blabbering until your senses reminded you that this is one of the women you’ll forever have an honor to get to know with, and you swore before that if you’ll get a chance to meet them personally, you won’t do any harm on them.

And it seems that you broke that when you saw Momo shocked and frightened at your unexpected temper.

“I-I’m sorry, I- I get it, okay. It was wrong of me and I won’t do it again but…. what I don’t understand is that why do you need to record this as well? I mean, you can just say what happened and I’ll surrender because I know it’s true. What’s the use of this for then?” You said, directing your hand at the video.

“Now you’ve asked, well… I thought of something that I can make what I want possible through this.” She tapped her finger at the table, her expression shifting into something mischievous and naughty.

“What are you talking about?”

“You want me to delete this? You have to do something for me first- oh should I say, to US first.”

“What the fuck? Are you seriously blackmailing me with our sex tape?” You ridiculously asked. You are in utter disbelief right now of this true color of Momo.

“Guess you can put it like that.” She shrugged. “Yeah, we can forgive you for being so reckless to our friend and hold the consequences if you’ll do us a favor.”

“And what is that?”

Momo moved her chair, closing her gap between you two. “Fuck the rest of us just like how you do to Mina.” She smirked as she stared at your flabbergasted face.

You couldn’t process what Momo is asking you to do for her, and damn sure you weren’t expecting that she’ll have this side that’ll be very disliking of you. The once admirable and inspirational idol turned to be someone worse than you could imagine. Even adding to this horrible situation, she’s just doing this on behalf of a group consisted of people you also believed at first to be pure and innocent.

“You got to be kidding me.” You shook your head. “Are you out of your mind, Momo? Have you been hearing yourself? You’re committing a sin with this! You’re betraying Mina for God’s sake!”

“I KNOW! BUT I COULDN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!” Momo has snapped, she stood fiercely at you.” AND SO WAS THEM. We tried, but… ever since you stepped foot in our dorm, we found you so attractive in everything. You have it all that most of us wanted a guy to have. Then when we learned that Mina already have you. We tried to be happy for our friend but it pains us as well that we couldn’t have the same.” Momo explained what led her to do this.

“Until we have accepted the fact that we couldn’t have your heart like she does. But… we might atleast get another piece of you that doesn’t require feelings to attain. Something that had us obssessing over you since the beginning.”

She crawled her hands at your arm and cupped your biceps, squeezing its firm yet toughness. “Mina can love you with all her heart and soul, as for your body though… maybe we can just share it ourselves for free.”

Her hands roams down to your side figure until it reaches the hem of your shirt. Momo single handedly removed it for you and you just remained stiffened at your spot as you watched her in confusion.

“And we know you’ll let us, right? You were probably dreaming of having us in your way when you were just a random fan of us.” After throwing your shirt on the floor, Momo then began to undress herself, and your eyes largened at her matching pair of lacy red bra and panties she’s wearing underneath, gulping at how incredibly sexy she actually is. It’s undeniable that every detail of her figure is a sight to behold, a complete package from head to toe that every man would die for.

She grabbed your hand and forced you to stand up. “You’ll be our personal sex slave and we’ll delete the video. Don’t worry, she don’t have to know about what we’re doing. Unless, you want us to separate Mina away from you and never see us again.”

You were horrified at the consequences Momo is considering in case you disobey their conditions. For the sake of your relationship with Mina, you frowned in worry as Momo lift your chin up to her stare at her bare naked body and her devious gaze.

“Do we have a deal with that, YN?”

Without any other choice, you wanted to save you and Mina to these ladies you once treated as supportive friends but has now turned into betraying envy admirers who wants to gain access of your body for free use.

You nodded in response to her question. Momo then started to kiss you passionately, putting touches around your chest and torso as well. She then led your hands on top of her bulging breasts and massage them to match Momo’s expectations.

She let go for a while and dragged you along her. Exiting the kitchen, you saw the rest of the girls all sitting on the living room. Momo looked at them as your lack of clothing together stole their attention.

“He agreed. We’ll be right back.” She exclaimed. You view their grins expanded with a hint of thirst and desperation for your affection.

You followed Momo and got pushed inside her room where after being locked by her, both went through hours of heated and wild rounds of sweaty sex on her bed. She was moaning and screaming in pleasure as you just focused on giving her everything she wanted from you.

Momo was laid in various positions based on what she wanted you to perform, whether its pinning and fucked her like a ragdoll around your cock on the wall, making the bed quake and squeak with your manhandling of her body, or pound her while she’s pressed on the cold floor.

She titfucked your thick cock with some short combinations of blowjob included and have it erupt with streaks of cum that splattered around her chest to finish your time with her.

ACT 4

The equipments would also receive additional purpose not just for a simple exercise as you would attempt to utilize it on pleasuring Nayeon, like making her bounce up and down in your cock while her legs split open, relying her balance on wrapping your head from behind.

Months have passed, and your new purpose for the girls proceeded without Mina having any idea about the huge unforgivable sin you’re committing. She returned weeks after Momo had you in her control. The poor girlfriend had no clue what the walls of their dorm had witnessed every day without her presence roaming around.

Their sexual needs over you intensified, and even with the possibility of Mina arriving home, you still had to do it to every member, depending on who was in the mood to beg for your cock and worship it as their ultimate prize. Whenever Mina closes the door and leaves their place, one of them—or hell, a pair or a divided group by them—would just suddenly pounce on you to take the availability.

You have taken a taste on every single one of them because of this forbidden deal, and they made these all possible in accordance with what they want to happen with you. They have taken turns on you, and you only have one objective to accomplish for them: never leave them not being blessed by your cum all over their spent body after accompanying them anywhere.

Nayeon once took you with her to be her guardian on her pilates schedule. While the coach is gone to attend some urgent stuff, Nayeon would instantly pull down your shorts and shove you cock up in her mouth.

In addition, you showered with Jeongyeon as well. Their water bill about to double because of how much water you both have wasted being tangled together. You fucked Jeongyeon while she stands on one leg with another being lifted, then she finished you off by cumming onto her mouth. Following that, you helped each other apply soap and wash off your bodies.

Sana and Momo had threesome with you. At first you thought it would be a struggle to ensure that both of them will be satisfied equally, but due to how needy these girls for you and them acting like an experts for these thing, they have guided you properly.

It made you to shuffle yourselves in different positions, either taking their pussy and ass at the same time with your cock and talented fingers as they make out or them making your mouth work as the another returns the same at your cock. They also probably had the longest time you spent having sex with.

Jihyo likes her being called your mommy, and she is very welcome to treat you as her little baby. To do so, she would either instruct you to lay on her lap as she sat on the couch and suck her tits alternatively while she jerks off your cock or taking care of you with her massive puppies and oral skills. She also surprised you with a fact that she’s carrying breastmilk already despite not being pregnant yet, a result of having great genes.

Dahyun is the most submissive and gentle type of one; she prefers vanilla sex rather than being banged up, unlike some of her co-members, especially Chaeyoung. The amount of suffering you endured for this small but terrible woman when it came to sex was unmeasurable. This dominant lady won’t let your balls store a single drop of cum for her after edging your cock for an hour and encourages you to piston her tight petite body however she wants to.

And lastly, Tzuyu was almost the same as Dahyun. The only difference was that she wants to switch roles in the bed while maintaining the same pace of the session. It’s kind of strange as well that she’s probably the least TWICE member you came inside of, as she offers instead her big fat thighs for you to also inject your cock in between and blast cum for her gifted asset.

“What’s going on with you lately, YN?” Mina started the topic. “Care to share what’s bothering you, babe?”

You have lost count of how many times you did it while handling your relationship with Mina and your sex life with her too. That’s why it resulted in you becoming physically weak, sympathizing for your emotional and mental state that is also being affected as well.

It didn’t slip into Mina’s perspective for her boyfriend. Her caring instincts for you alerting about the sudden strange transformation of your appearance and mood were noticed. She could also differentiate how you were before than this recent change you’re having.

Always lost in thoughts, gloomy, and quiet. You even reject her, setting yourselves up for another round of sex. That is how Mina would describe you currently. Since this is not the usual you that she loved, it grew concern in her.

That’s why one day, she confronted you in a must. You were just watching the landscape of Seoul beneath from the pavement when Mina approached you from behind with coffee in hand. She looked at your side figure and again, she knew something is wrong.

You gulped and lowered your head a bit more. “There’s n-nothing. Why would you ask?”

“You’ve been not acting like yourself lately. I can see it all.” Mina explained. “You rarely laugh or smile so geniunely at me, it was those that powers me up everyday but… you’ve been so lacking with everything that I couldn’t help but to ask if there’s anything going on with you.”

“None. I’m fine, Mina. Really.”

“But you’re not okay. Don’t set me aside, please. I’m your girlfriend, YN. I should be helping you.”

“What part of what I just said that you don’t understand, Mina?” You glanced at her in frustration. The tension gets heavier, until you’ve realized that you almost just shouted at Mina who only just think of your well-being.

“S-sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice. Seriously, Mina. I’m fine.” You shook your head and turned away at her.

Mina wasn’t thrilled at your sudden complain. She came forward and hug you from behind, her comfort almost broke the emotions you’ve trying to hold as much as your can. “You can tell me anything, you know? I love you, and I have to make sure that I share the problems with you. For us to fix together.”

Your body trembled, every words coming out of her mouth felt like a dagger to your chest. “I can’t.”

“You are. I’m always here to listen, don’t put pressure on yourself.” Mina said.

“No, you don’t understand. This is something you can’t handle.”

“Then make me.”

“If I did, you won’t be able to look at me the same again.”

“Is it being insecure again, YN? We’ve talked about this before.”

“No. This is new.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve being torn apart in guilt, Mina.” One of your teardrops finally went loose from your sore eyes. “I don’t know if how long am I going to do this, but I’m just holding on for you.”

“Is there’s something you’re not telling me about, YN?”

You breathed heavily and composed your posture, preparing for the storm impending to come. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Mina.”

“For?”

“I’ve risked something to keep ourselves together. It was wrong but… there was no other option.”

“What is it?”

“Dignity.” A dreaded expression went visible in your face.

“What’s this have to do with your dignity, YN?” Mina cautiously asked, as a strange feeling creeping inside her is telling that she may not digest what you’re about to say.

“I- I… oh God, I know you won’t forgive me for this.” You cried in her arms. “I made myself a sex slave for the girls.” You escaped from her embrace, kneeling with your hands covering your face in disgrace and fear.

Mina felt like her heart just crumpled and eardrums burst at what she had heard. Her eyes twitched and swell before it became watery from the overflowing emotions dealt by pain. The arms that was formed to wrap you in her console started to give up and fell back to her sides.

“Y-you… you did what?” Mina asked as she stared at nothingness. The sunset shining in her eyes in contrast to the building darkness of disgust around her.

“I had sex with your co-members, for a deal to keep our relationship going.” You elaborated. “Because if I don’t, they’ll threaten me to be banned from ever seeing you and the rest of them ever again.”

Mina’s fists clenched in anger. The tears flowing in her cheeks were like disappearing instantly at how hot she’s getting driven by her fury. She seethes it in, while still processing the fact that the people she once thought are her friends and would support her sincerely, would be the cause of the downfall of one of the most important things she cherishes in life through betrayal.

She wasn’t in a good condition to think properly, so her body rather took in charge on controlling what the right thing to do for now. Mina left you in the balcony and grabbed her shoulder bag from her room. You stand up and followed her.

“W-wait, where are you going?”

Mina didn’t answer.

“Wait, please Mina. Let me explain more-”

“DON’T FUCKING TALK TO ME, YN. J-just… don’t. I want to be left alone I-I just can’t stand seeing every one of you for now.” Mina daringly pointed her finger at you, staring right through your soul.

The main door suddenly clicked. It opened, Mina walked through it and saw the rest of the girls who came back from grocery. Momo was in the front, blocking the way.

She was about to greet Mina with large smile on her face when she got startled from the brutal slap she received straight on her face. The girls exclaimed in shock, and Mina stared at them venomously.

“Traitors.” She muttered before taking a turn as she began walking away from them.

All of the girls watched you just helplessly standing in the middle of the room. They understood what this is all mean now. Mina has found out the truth.

SET 5

Some of them were about to chase Mina but she already entered an elevator and it closed.

The rest of them went in silent to deal with the consequences of their actions.

The entire group has no idea of Mina’s whereabouts. They talked to few people they knew that are friends with Mina from outside and nobody have seen nor met them after the incident. They wanted to believe, but they are confident that one of them must be lying as per Mina’s request to leave her alone.

they multiplied her pain than the first time her health succumbed from.

If that was probably what Mina wants from now, they can give it to her, but they won’t be put to rest thinking about how she might be dealing the darkest truth she had discovered.

Almost a decade of being with Mina, they know she’s one of the most vulnerable, and that woke them up to the harsh reality that they not just only hurt their friend for the first time….

The thought of setting Mina into another hiatus term because of their fault made them regretting a lot that they have put their guards down from getting obssessed over nothing but lust from you. Not only that, the guilt you’re having were now being carried by them as well, that’s why they couldn’t blame you as her boyfriend to be this depressed right now.

You and the girls were trapped in the dark, deafening silence and heavy baggage of self-blame. They still tried to be productive as an idol despite of the current situation, while you in whole opposite side, has to see you almost unmoved, looking at the unknown filled with somber hopes to hear your phone receive a notification atleast or ring after hundreds of missed call you have attempted.

It all stopped when almost 2 weeks later, Mina made a return to the dorm. You were in your house when it happened, and so Jihyo immediately contacted you to inform that she’s here. Driving in rush, you arrived at their dorm in no time.

As you stepped in front of the door and opened it, you were met by everyone except Jihyo, Jeongyeon, and Nayeon bowing their heads. You were perplexed when some of them like Dahyun and Tzuyu are crying too. “W-what happened? Where is she?”

“Y-YN… please stop unnie.” Dahyun spoke in ragged tone.

“Why? From what?”

The other missing members appeared from the other hallway, and there was girlfriend carrying a bag and luggages. Your eyes widened when the three are following her from behind as if they’re begging.

Mina met you in her way and you just stood there wondering why she all have her belongings out. It scares you to ask, but you have to find out. “Mina, w-where are you going?”

“I’m not staying on this dorm anymore. I’m also leaving TWICE.”

Your jaw dropped.

“And I’m breaking up with you.”

You watched Mina’s stoic expression in devastation. Your heart felt like it exploded into pieces hearing the words you never wanted to happen together with her. Yet here she was, standing at you in her broken state, managed to announce that without any hesitation.

“No, Mina. Please, can you hear me for a second? Let’s just talk.”

“Get out of my way, YN.”

“I’m not letting you. Just, please think about this first!”

“I MADE UP MY MIND!!!” Mina screamed, and it sent shivers to the girls knowing she rarely raises her voice. “IF YOU AND… THESE SO-CALLED FRIENDS OF MINE NEVER ARRANGED TO STAB ME IN BACK, THIS WOULD’VE NOT HAPPEN IN THE FIRST PLACE!”

“Mina, YN owes you an explanation. So do us, as well.”

“Don’t you dare lecture me this time, Jihyo.” She turned around at Jihyo and confronted her with burning rage in her eyes.

“I’m not lecturing you, Mina. I’m just trying to make you understand.”

“What is it that I have to understand?!” Mina confusedly asked. “Other than all of you fucking my boyfriend behind my back, taking advantage of my blindness? Y-you guys are sick!”

“Because I did it all for YOU!” You yelled as you you couldn’t hold it in much longer. The desperation of her to be prevented from ending all of this for good. “I had no choice but to accept it because they blackmailed me, Mina. They dared me that if I didn’t follow what they want from me, they won’t delete that video and they can prohibit me from getting any access to all of you!”

“W-what video?” Mina puzzledly asked.

“We got caught… having sex in the resort.” You revealed. “And they used that to give them something in exchange not to trigger them doing something about us.”

“Who recorded us?”

“I did.” Momo stood from the couch, bravely taking accountability for what she did. “I was also the one who proposed a plan to have YN for ourselves.”

“H-how could you?” Mina was about to break down, her breath shaking.

“I wasn’t thinking properly at that time. Neither were them. We got clouded by lust and the need to sample YN. How attractive he looks, we were manipulated to do some dirty deeds on him. And realizing what we have truly done, we’ve made a terrible mistake, Mina.” Momo explained.

“And you all never thought about how it would break my heart so bad that I just wanted to end it all?” Mina started crying. “I just couldn’t live with the darkest truth that my boyfriend and my friends are cheating on me, and that’s my first relationship tainted with sin because of all of you!”

“Mina, we swear, we thought about the consequences at first.” Nayeon joined the discussion. “We are aware that you already have YN by yourself, romantically to say the least. That’s why… I don’t know, a stupid idea was formulated by Momo here to rather claim YN by ourselves only for his body. And we admit, we are just craving for his affection that it broke our limit to accept.”

“Enough with the crap we’re trying to justify of, if there’s anyone you should blame a lot, it’s us. not YN. He had no choice, he was threatened.” Jeongyeon said. “And you may not forgive us anymore for this, but we just want to say that we’re really sorry.”

“You’re right, I’ll never forgive any of you for this.” Mina glared at anyone. “And I don’t buy any of your apology, once a cheater will always be a cheater, like they say. Who knows, all of you may done it again.”

“I swear, Mina. I never wanted any of it, I could’ve stopped if I want to, but they won’t let me be!” You said. “If you know how it eats me alive everytime I finish doing it with them knowing that I’m still in a relationship with you. I never wanted to do it, but I still did it because I need you to stay.” She watched you sobbing in plead.

“It scares me both as a fan and as your lover that everything we had has to stop if I didn’t follow them. I can’t lose you, Mina. I’m willing to do everything even if it ruins my reputation, lose my dignity, or cost my life, because I love you.”

Mina cried at your last statement. The mask she was wearing since she arrived is now starting to drop. You kneeled in front of her and hugged her thighs.

“Please, don’t go.”

Mina looked at your pitiful state and roamed her sight at the girls watching this dramatic scene in person. “Look at what you have all done.” She gritted her teeth.

“Let me guess, if I didn’t asked him about this, you guys would still do it without my knowledge, huh?” She bitterly chuckle regarding about the absurdity of their reasoning. They just all bowed in shame, knowing that Mina got them defeated with that single sentence.

“I also didn’t want to leave the group, nor break up with YN.” You looked up in surprise to see her wiping her tears. “Funny, right? Despite the unbearable amount of pain you have inflicted on me, I just can’t seem to avoid this stage of life that I reached with all of you.”

“A part of me still wanted to atleast stay. No because being an idol is my passion or my love for YN. It’s because I can’t lose all of you. That’s how special you guys are to me.” They all cried after hearing how touching it was even if they knew they don’t deserve Mina’s kind-heartedness anymore.

“As what I’ve said, this won’t stop unless I had to find out. I guess, there’s still a way to fix all of these. And since I’m already involved at whatever this is, it has to remain like that from now on.”

“What are you trying to imply, Mina?”

“You girls said that you have no found feelings for him, right? Only for pleasure?”

“Definitely just friends with benefits, that’s all.” Sana said.

“Then, let’s make a new deal. This thing you have with him, I’ll allow it to continue.”

All of them gasp in shock, with a mix of utter confusion. “Wait, Mina are you serious?”

“Don’t give me that reaction, I know you girls must’ve been disappointed that you can’t fuck him anymore because I already know the truth.” Mina retorted. “If this is what would keep us together, then this should stay only with us. No more intentions of damaging or kicking out anybody else in our lives too.” She referred to Momo who got what she’s trying to point about.

“You girls can continue being friends with benefits with him, but it would be under my control this time. I have to be updated all the time at what you guys did, maybe I could learn new things to pleasure my boyfriend here atleast.” She patted your head.

“I also will keep our relationship with YN, and that’s what should always matter here. Know your boundaries because if you don’t, I won’t hesitate to take actions about it that you’ll never like.” Mina warned them all.

“These only have to stop if me and YN decided to get marry in the future. For the sake of respect to the family we’re going to build. Or even if some of you began to find somebody to love as well. Are we all clear?”

“We’ll do everything to redeem ourselves, Mina. If that what you wish for, we’ll do it.” Momo agreed.

“Just don’t keep any secrets on me.” Mina then looked at your kneeling posture below her. She threw her bag away and pushed the luggages away. “Get up, I won’t go now. But… I still have one more thing to do to ease off my mind.”

“What is it?”

Mina began unbuttoning her blouse one by one, exposing her lace-cladded black bra encasing her luscious small tits. The rest of the girls were stunned also as they witness Mina going bare-naked in front of you. Throwing the piece of clothing aside, she then moved through her skirt, unzipped and dragged them down to the ground.

You gawked at the incredible view of Mina in her favorite set of black lingerie partnered by enticing suspenders that holds her thigh-high stockings. She pushed you to the wall and cornered you there. Tilting her head aside, she glanced at the other members who couldn’t do anything but to anticipate what’s about to occur afterwards.

“I’m going to punish you all for what you did to me. That means I’m going to discipline this pathetic little boy while all of you only get to watch me empty his balls and make him submit and ravage me under my commands. Understood?”

They all nodded with an unspoken dismay present in their face, but Mina doesn’t give a single damn about it. She then went down on her knees, take off your pants and boxers, and wield the already erect beautiful piece of meat in her dainty hands.

You watched all the girls occupy the carpet and the couch, removing their lower garment to let their pussies free from the lingering sensation that Mina has given effect of her sudden persona transformation. They made their fingers go to work, groping their tits and inserting their digits in each to their sopping wet slit.

“Good luck, YN. You’re in the hands of Sharon now.” Jeongyeon concerningly reminded you.

You matched Mina’s sharp gaze and devilish gaze. She began pumping your cock with her fist close to her lewd face. You inhaled and braced yourself at the immense pleasure she’s given you already.

“You better keep up with me, boy. I won’t go easy on you today.”

Pre-cum escaped from your tip, Mina blew her warm breath at your pinkish head. She cackled as she watched you tremble. Lifting your cock, she gave a long lick from your full balls then the underside and up to your plump end.

“Shall we start?”

==OO==

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 18 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: You find out why you have been feeling so sick lately. Some things are good. Some things are bad. And other things are straight-up cruel.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder and rape, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation, mentions of sexual activities and desires, mentions of pregnancy/pregnancy issues/abortion, kidney failure, poisoning, not beta-read, if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

The voices were so soft that you barely even heard them, but you knew they were there.

You were probably dreaming. But what were you dreaming about? What had you dreamed? Were you already fully awake – awake enough to forget what you had been dreaming about?

A sharp pain in your arm made your eyes flutter open and you glanced around in panic. It suddenly all came back again, quick and unyielding.

The blood. He had to be dead. But, God, why was he dead? And why had he followed you?

Your gaze flew around the room, helplessly trying to recognize where the hell you were, when it suddenly dawned on you. You weren’t home.

Maybe you were indeed still dreaming.

Or maybe it was a nightmare you were caught in.

You gasped loudly and tried to sit up, only to feel a pair of gentle, yet firm hands, push you back down.

“Stop, I- What-“

“Shh.” He kept you gently pressed against the bed and regarded you with a look so tender and concerned, it immediately increased your panic. “It’s okay. It’s okay. We’re in the hospital. You’re alright.”

You glanced around, only to then realize it. The white walls, the neon lights, the rustling and the people around you. One looked like a doctor, another one like a nurse, but she left quickly.

It slowly came back to you. The wardrobe. The dizziness. The god-awful amount of blood. Your first impulse was to ask him what had happened, but you kept quiet. Everything was just too much – and his expression was by far the worst about it. His brows were furrowed in concern and his eyes were soft and cautious, as if he expected you to pass out again any moment.

He hadn’t even managed to get properly changed. You still saw the faint traces of blood on his shirt, right under his jacket. And even his hands had that light, red glow of someone who had just butchered a lamb.

The faint cut right above his eyebrow was new. And it made your heart clench.

“What happened?” You whispered hoarsely. “How long was I-“

“The doctor was just about to explain.” He said as he gently squeezed one of your hands in his both. “I told him that you don’t speak Korean. He’ll explain it in English.”

Your eyelids fluttered in confusion. He was behaving so…odd.

Of course he had been gentle before, no question. But this was so entirely unlike him. He was so soft-spoken and careful. It was hardly the same man.

When the doctor cleared his throat, you snapped out of your thoughts and looked up at him instead. You were filled with dread, far more so than ever. Something was wrong, you could tell. A part of you expected him to tell you that you were going to die soon. Who knew? Maybe you would. It wouldn’t have surprised you. That was just what your life was like. Predictable and disappointing.

“We ran a few blood tests, miss, as I just now mentioned to your husband.”

Husband. The word rang in your ears.

You nodded.

The doctor, a man in his middle-age with kind eyes and a certain softness in his voice, sighed softly and slowly sat down on the chair by your bed.

“I have bad news and good ones. I would like to start with the bad news.”

You felt him tense beside you and his hold on your hands tightened ever-so-slightly.

By the time you looked up to meet his gaze, you realized, he wasn’t looking at you. Instead he was staring at the doctor before you, his eyes fixed on the man and his body rigid on his own chair.

You nodded again.

Oh God, what now?

“The reason for your breakdown was a circulatory collapse. That in itself isn’t all too bad. Your husband informed me of the fight you witnessed.” The blood on him. Clever. “That level of stress, combined with your high blood pressure, were what caused it. I ran a few blood tests and that’s where it gets complicated. I’m sorry to inform you that one of your kidneys is in the process of failing.”

You felt a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You had always known this would come someday. But you couldn’t help but ask.

“The slow one or the other one?” You asked quietly.

You felt him stiffen beside you and the pressure on your hand was almost painful by now. He stared at you with an incredulous look. “What do you mean the slow one?”

You found yourself staring at the doctor instead. Maybe you should have told him, you suddenly realized.

The doctor kept staring between the both of you, before he hesitantly settled his gaze on you again, after you just so openly ignored your husband, waiting for his answer.

“I think your wife is referring to her birth defect. She was born with a kidney that’s rather small and has a hard time keeping up the process of cleaning her blood, as while the other one is normal in size. But unfortunately, that’s not the one failing.”

You closed your eyes. “So, the good one.”

“That’s the thing. I noticed something about it. I found your blood levels concerning, so I ran a few more tests. There’s a lot of protein in your urine. Have you had a history of using the bathroom often?”

“Yes.” You said quietly. “But it was always like that.”

“Did it lessen over the years?”

That made you pause and you took a moment to actually think about it. Looking back, as a child, you had to use the bathroom at least every hour. But these last few years…

“Yes, I think so. Why?”

He nodded with a solemn expression on his face. “I assumed so. I have a bad idea about what might be going on. I’m sorry to say this, but neither of your kidneys was working properly. They were just barely keeping you alive at this point.”

“Wait.” His voice was so soft that you barely even heard it, but it was enough to make the doctor’s head snap up.

“Yes?”

“So, she was born with one kidney damaged. And the other one is failing right now.” His grip on your hand slackened and so did his expression. You slowly turned your head to look at him and the sight of him nearly made you go pale. He was pale. His eyes were and his hair a mess. You had never seen him look like this before. He looked so…so…afraid. “Did…Did something cause her kidney failing? Did someone cause-“ He stopped and you felt the way his hands were shaking.

And you suddenly realized what he was asking. What he was thinking.

Did I cause her kidney to fail? Is it me who almost killed her?

You quickly reached for his hand and squeezed it reassuringly, but all he could do was stare at the doctor with the same horrified look.

The doctor leaned back in his chair, clutching the papers in his hand and he sighed deeply.

And to your horror, he nodded. “I’m afraid it were indeed external circumstances that caused your wife’s kidney to give in. I’m afraid someone might have poisoned her.”

For a moment everything was quiet, except for the soft humming of the machines, the slow drip of the IV. But then something in his face changed. The fear turned to the same murderous look he held whenever he got so ungodly angry.

“Poisoned her?” He said slowly.

The doctor nodded again. “I’ve found her sodium chloride levels are concerningly high. And unless she hasn’t been eating spoonsful of salt every day for months or years of her life, someone might have slipped her a preparation.”

His expression changed yet again and now he looked at you with a mixture of fury and pleading; pleading to believe him that it hadn’t been him who tried to poison you. But you were already more than aware.

“I know who did it.” You said quietly. Both of them stared at you in shock.

“What?” Asked the doctor.

You nodded slowly. “My mother. She gave me medicine for my slow kidney since I turned fourteen. I never questioned it.”

The doctor’s expression turned sour at the mention of that. “If that truly is so, we have to inform authorities and-“

“My mother is dead.” You said without flinching.

“Oh, that’s…alright, then. However, it would make sense. It’s good you stopped taking the medication. Had you continued to take it, it might have caused a cardiac infarction. Your husband said you just recently turned twenty-five. That’s not normal. It was highly intentional. Your mother caused great harm on you, miss.”

You took a slow breath to try and keep yourself from crying, but it was useless. Tears clouded your vision and you hid your face behind your hands.

Despite the tension in his body, the anger coursing through his veins, his hands were gentle in your hair.

“It’s okay.” He whispered in a mixture of furious and tender. “She won’t ever harm you again. No one will.”

It took you a few minutes to finally calm down again, but when you did, he gently pulled your hands from your face and looked at you with the same concerned look.

“So, what does this mean now?” He asked the doctor. “What will become of her?”

The man looked down at the files on his lap and shook his head. “On the long term, she will need a kidney transplant.”

It was the worst thing he could have said. The worst. A quick death was what you always anticipated and hoped for. Him losing his patience and shooting you in a fit of anger didn’t sound half as bad as that did. You knew how these things ended. You’d get on a list and you’d never ever get a kidney in time. And if you did, your body would fight it and you’d end up dying anyway.

He seemed to have the same thoughts, because you felt him freeze. His grip on your hand stayed the same, but all the color drained from his face. “Transplant?”

The doctor nodded. “On the long term, yes. We already put you on the waiting list, miss. We’ll do our best, I promise you and I stand by my promise. You’ve been through so much and you’re so young. We’ll do our best for you. Until then…you’ll have to go with dialysis.”

You were crying silent tears, begging and praying on the inside.

God, why me and why that? Why couldn’t it have been me who fell on the trainlines instead?

“Dialysis.” Your so-called husband responded in a breathless whisper. “That…that’s not so bad, right? It’s not like chemotherapy.”

The doctor nodded. “It’s still a great effort for her body to take, but it’s not comparable to cancer. She’ll be weakened, yes, but she’ll be able to perform basic tasks and take care of herself. And we’ll be working to find a kidney for her as fast as possible. A kidney isn’t as hard to find as a heart would be. It’s not likely. You might even get lucky and have a donor in your circle.”

He released a slow breath and drew gentle circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

“You said you had good news for us?” He asked quietly.

The doctor nodded slowly and set the papers aside. His expression calmed somewhat and he regarded you both with a long look, before his gaze settled on your face.

“You’re seven weeks pregnant.”

He might as well have punched you, because that was exactly how you felt.

You wanted to react, in any way really. But you had no idea how you felt. How you were supposed to feel. You only knew that you were terribly afraid.

And so you slowly looked over to the man hunched beside you, trying to gauge his own reaction. Was he happy about this? Was he angry? His face gave nothing away. He looked dumbstruck. And for the first since you knew him, he looked genuinely terrified.

“Pregnant.” He whispered.

His gaze slowly wandered to you and back to the doctor. “But her kidney-“

“It is not impossible to carry a child in her condition. There may be a few complications and the risk is slightly higher than it would be if she was completely healthy, but it isn’t impossible.”

“What does slightly higher mean? Higher chance to die? No, forget it.” He bit out. “We’re not doing this.”

“Forgive me, but-“

“No.” He said firmly. “I’m not going to let her die over this.”

The doctor cleared his throat and nodded. “I understand that. And what you’re going to do will be you and your wife’s own decision in the end. I’d just like to make the following clear: She can still take the dialysis, even while pregnant. We could perform a peritoneal dialysis. It would have to be done every day, but she could do it at home. It’s rather uncomplicated.”

He was still rigid beside you and just as he was about to snap at the doctor again, you spoke in a quiet voice, causing him to stop himself.

“Would it harm the baby?”

The doctor smiled a gentle, reassuring smile. “No.”

“And the baby wouldn’t have any disadvantages due to my lack of a functioning kidney?”

“There’s always the possibility that the baby might come early. We’d have to keep a keen eye on its development, of course. It could be that it gets born with a birth weight of under 2.500 gram. That’s not uncommon for cases like yours, but it by far wouldn’t be the first one.”

You felt your insides twist painfully. Everything was simply too much. You still hadn’t gotten over the fact that your own mother tried to murder you for some reason and now you were here. Pregnant. Talking about things like birth weight.

“Am I-“

“I told you, this isn’t up for discussion.” His firm voice suddenly interrupted you.

You bit your lip and looked up at the doctor. “Could I get a moment alone with my husband?”

He immediately got up and gathered the documents surrounding him. “Of course. Take as much time as you need.”

The moment the door shut behind him, he shot you a crazed look. “There’s no way in hell you’re actually considering this.”

You stayed silent. A part of you wanted to fight him on this, but you felt weak. Too weak to argue, too weak to even speak. Something had changed, something had changed so drastically that you didn’t even know what you wanted anymore. The only thing you truly knew…

“I can’t kill it.”

He took a deep breath and sat down beside you again. “We’re not killing it. It doesn’t understand what’s going on. It is too tiny to feel pain.”

“But it’s our baby.” The words slipped out in a pained whisper before you could stop yourself and the effect your words had on him was immediately recognizable. His eyes softened the same instant.

“I know.” He said quietly and reached for your hand again. “And I’m dying to have a baby with you. Really, I am. But not if it means you might die trying to bear it.”

“But the doctor said-“

He gently cupped your face in his palms and made you look up at him. “You’re sick.” His voice sounded as firm as it was gentle. His eyes were practically pleading with you. “You’re sick and I can’t lose you.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and gently circled his wrist in your hand. You were probably being manipulative, you were biased anyway. Unlike your mother, you immediately loved your child. You didn’t understand it. Didn’t even fully realize that it was truly there, inside you, but you loved it. And you couldn’t kill it. Never.

You gently got hold of his hand and guided it down your chest, until it reached your abdomen and you pressed it down softly.

His eyes followed your movement and he seemed to hold his breath. He wanted it just as much as you did, if not more. You saw it in his eyes. The tenderness. The pain. The instant protectiveness. Everything you loved about him.

The man who cut your hair and hit you when you spoke out of line, he was gone. The man who took your name and your identity from you, the man who threatened you, the man who scared you – he was nowhere to be found.

He was still the same, dangerous man underneath it all. You knew that. There was no way you could ever forget it. After seeing him murder someone twice – and maybe a third time – you knew what he was.

But in that moment? In that moment, he was somebody else.

The husband type of guy.

Your guy.

Your man.

And you were his. Only his.

He released a slow breath and his gaze slowly wandered up from your stomach to your face.

“I can’t.” He said quietly.

When you shot him a confused frown, he sighed and leaned back, but he kept his gentle grip on you.

“I can’t lose you.”

You sighed softly and gently tightened your grip on his hand. “But I might die anyway.”

His eyes darkened at that. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare even think that.” He hissed.

“It’s true.” You said quietly. “How high is the chance that I get a kidney in time? How many people live in Korea?”

“Don’t think about that now.” The determination is his voice was almost reassuring. Almost. Like he knew something that you didn’t. “I’ll find a way.”

“What?”

He shook his head. “All you need to do is focus on yourself, alright? Nothing else. I’m going to take care of everything else.”

“Okay.” You said quietly, even though you were not even close to convinced. What would he take care of? What did that mean? You had a bad feeling about it. “But I’m not having an abortion.”

He exhaled slowly. “You’re so fucking stubborn.”

You smiled weakly. “And you hate that about me, don’t you?”

Surprisingly he returned the smile and gently touched your chin. “I love that about you.”

His gaze wandered back down to where his hand lay and he slowly shook his head. “Are you really sure about this? It won’t be easy.”

You bit your lip and nodded.

His brows furrowed in thought and he didn’t meet your gaze yet. “I’m going to be a terrible father.”

That sent a spark of pain through you, because you heard the sorrow in his voice. What a silly man he was. Didn’t he see it?

“No. You’re going to be a wonderful father.”

He scoffed and attempted to look away, but your hand shot out and you gently touched his cheek, guiding him to look back at you. He seemed surprised, but he still let you.

“You are going to be a wonderful father.” You said slowly and firmly. The firmness in your voice took you by surprise, but you didn’t back down. For some reason, you were more than convinced of your own words. “You’re going to be everything your own father wasn’t.”

Under the gentle touch of your hand, you felt him tense, but he didn’t look away and it wasn’t anger in his eyes. It was uncertainty. Fear, maybe. And a whole lot of disbelief.

“How would you know that?”

“I know how it feels to be loved by you.” You said quietly. It was true. He was a twisted freak, someone who had missed not many an opportunity to hurt you. But at the same time, he protected you. He cared about you and he went to extreme lengths for you. “Wouldn’t you die for me?” You didn’t understand your own question or why you asked it, but something made you. A higher power, something that took control over your mind and tongue.

His frown deepened and he tightened his grip on you. “What a dumb question.”

You nodded and gently caressed his cheek. “That’s why I’m sure.” You whispered. “I want this baby. I want our baby. Because I…I trust you to take care of me. Of us.”

He kept staring at you with the same thoughtful, pained frown, until he finally closed his eyes and gently buried his face against your midsection.

“You’re such a stubborn idiot.” He murmured.

You smiled and gently buried your fingers in his hair. “Such a harsh way to talk to the mother of your child.”

You heard his smile, even though you didn’t see it. “I have a few conditions though.”

He looked back at you with a stern glint. You raised a brow and waited for him to continue.

“You don’t do anything. All you’re going to do for the time being is lay in your bed, read your books and nothing more. You’ll leave everything to me and you’ll listen to me. Understood?”

For some reason, that made you smirk. “Or else what?”

His eyes darkened. “Understood?”

Your smile softened and you nodded. “Understood.”

He sighed deeply and regarded you with a careful look. He still didn’t seem all too convinced.

“Alright.” He murmured.

“One more thing.” Your eyes shot open and you looked at him, the softness and warmth gone from your tone. “What happened today?”

He tensed again and averted his gaze. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

“What? But that guy who followed us-“

“Shh.” He shot you a glare. “Stop it. No one followed us.”

You frowned incredulously. “I’m not letting you shut me out like this. Where did the blood come from? What did he want?” You said lowly, looking over his shoulder to make sure there was no one listening in on your conversation.

“This is neither the time nor the place.”

“You said something about my mother.” You suddenly remembered. “Before I passed out. Tell me the truth. I’m not joking. What about my mother?”

He clenched his jaw. He was losing his patience, but so were you. “I didn’t-“

Now it was you who shot him a glare. “Tell me.”

“Listen.” He said slowly as he leaned back and shot you another stern look. “I can’t have you stressed out right now. Did you forget what happened last time?” He tugged gently on the IV as if to remind you.

But you didn’t let him and you caught his hand in your own. “Tell me. Right now. Why did he follow us? Did he-“ Your eyes widened and your grip on him loosened. “Oh God.” You whispered. “Oh God, she sent him.”

He immediately caught you by the shoulders as you tried to sit up. “Calm down, okay? Stop this. It’s not that dramatic.”

“She sent him.” Your voice grew shaky in panic. The same woman who had systematically tried to poison you. The same woman who marked you. Who isolated you. The woman who was supposed to love you and give her life for you. “Did you kill him?”

“No.” He said quietly.

“No?”

He shook his head. “He’s in the wardrobe.”

You felt yourself go pale. “What? In the-“

“Don’t. Panic.” He said firmly. “I’m not letting him leave like that. I have plans for him. I’m going to find out what he knows and how he found it out. And I’m not letting him get back to her. I have his phone and everything else.”

The dizziness came back the same instant and your eyes fluttered shut.

“Hey, hey.” He murmured and gently touched your cheek. “It’s alright. Don’t worry. You’ll never see her again. I promise you. Over my dead body. And you don’t have to see him either. All of that is nothing but a matter I’m going to take care of.”

You nodded weakly, but inside you felt nauseous. How on earth did she find out?

“And the blood?” You whispered.

He scoffed. “The bastard tried to inject me something. And he even had a taser. What kind of man would use a taser?”

You took a shaky breath. “But he didn’t?”

He shook his head. “You think I’d let him?” He smiled bitterly. “When I looked outside, I saw his gun and I knew something was off. I immediately knew he wanted something from you. Why else would he have followed us? I also have no idea how he found the right apartment by the first try. There are many things I don’t know yet. But I’m going to find out. But you.” He shot you a stern look. “You are going to stay in bed and do nothing but take care of the little one right here.” He gently prodded your bellybutton with his index finger and it almost made you smile.

If it wasn’t for your mother, you would have smiled.

“I can’t go back to her.” You whispered. “I’ll die before I do.”

He inhaled slowly and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “No one’s taking you away from me. And anyone who tries, will see.”

After a while, the doctor came back. He explained a few more things and after running a bunch of tests, he announced you wouldn’t have to go through dialysis yet. He’d have to check your kidney progress twice every week and there would be no way to avoid it, by the time your slow kidney decided to give up entirely.

But until then, you’d check your blood pressure three times every day and unless it got worse – you were free to act normal. Of course everything was a bit complicated so he prohibited you from taking any demanding tasks. But so far, and unless you weren’t taking the dialysis, your pregnancy wasn’t high-risk. He said that he would prefer it, if you took things easy – “Oh, she will, don’t worry. I’m not letting her leave the bed.” – but he gave you green light for light tasks and intimacy. Before you left, he said something to the doctor in Korean. They both glanced at you quickly before they slowly left the room, leaving you there in confusion and suspicion.

The drive home was rather quiet. Both of you were lost in your thoughts and your fears, but he kept a possessive grip on your thigh the whole way.

“You can’t die, you know.” He suddenly said. “If you did, I’d follow you and kick your ass.”

You smiled softly and looked up at him, but his gaze was trained on the street and there was not a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“I won’t.” You said quietly. “Who else would show you how to change a diaper?”

Now, that made him smirk. “As if you know that.”

You laughed quietly. “We’ll learn it together.”

He took a turn and parked in the car park. When he was done, he slowly turned to face you.

“Are you really sure you want to go through with this?”

“I am.” You said gently.

He took a breath and nodded. “Alright.” Just as he was about to open the door, you held him back.

“What did you ask the doctor?”

His brows shot up in surprise. “What?”

“You know what I mean. Before we left, you spoke in Korean. What was that about?”

He clenched his jaw and averted his gaze. He got worse and worse when it came to lying to you.

“Come on, let’s get inside. I have to take care of a few things.”

___________________________________________

Tag list 1:

@mitsuki-dreamfree @kpopsmutty69 @heroine-chique @vkeyy @mizuwki @blu-brrys @z0mbi345 @yourpointbreak @ayieayee @freddyzeppsworld @lola11111111 @indifitel6661 @salesmanlover08 @laurenbenoit70 @lalalaa2210 @lila-marshal @auspicious-lilana @0-aubrie0 @lovelyaegyo @theredvelvetbitch @violentbluess @muriels-lover @dorayakissu @eviebuggg @muchwita @ririgy @strxlemon @obsessedwthdilfs @kiwilov3 @misty-q

Author's note: Surprise, surprise. Hehe. Also, guys, I have a feeling I'm stuck between half the readers wanting more angst and drama and the other half wishing for more fluff. Might have to throw some flashbacks in?

Love you!

[flwrstqr]

警告 : ❪ VALENTINES ❫ PUBLIC DISPLAY AFFECTION ── 𝗂'𝗏𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾. 𝗂 𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗅𝗒, 𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖺 𝗏𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖾.

𝓲. showing public displays of affection with enhypen

❪ 日语 ❫ : enhypen & fem!rea 1OOO ❜ skinship, petnames kissing ⎯ fluff head canons one shot ˊᯅˋ & click / archive

notes. . 다니 ⸝⸝ happy valentines day everyone~ hope you feel loved when reading!! my second valentines on tumblr (> <)

LEE HEESEUNG

heeseung has no shame, absolutely none, and it shows when you’re standing in line at a coffee shop, pretending not to notice the way his hand rests lightly on your waist. “you know,” he begins, leaning in closely, “if the barista doesn't call you the prettiest thing they've seen all day, i might have to correct them.” you roll your eyes, biting back a grin, but he catches it anyway, his smirk widening. “ah, there it is. my favorite smile,” he teases, voice low, like he’s telling you a secret meant for only the two of you. people are definitely staring now, but he doesn’t care. “heeseung,” you mutter, half-pleading, half-laughing, as his fingers trail down to interlock with yours. “what? just telling the truth, angel,” he says, grinning shamelessly, and somehow, even though you want to hide, you never really mind.

PARK JAY

"angel!" jay's voice echoes through the store, loud enough that heads turn, but you’re already used to it—used to the way he calls for you like you’re the only person in the world. you peek up from the display of luxury bags he insisted on buying you, only to find him grinning at you from across the store, holding up two pairs of heels. "which one, baby?" he asks, and before you can answer, he’s already walking over, wrapping an arm around your waist. "actually, you’re getting both, sweetheart." you roll your eyes, but your heart flips anyway, just like it does every time he effortlessly calls you by pet names in public, unbothered by the stares. "jay, let’s get something to eat after this," you hums, as jay presses a quick kiss to your temple. "whatever you want, my love." and really, how could you ever mind when he’s just so, so perfect?

SIM JAKE

"baby," jake whines, arms wrapping around your waist from behind as you’re browsing through a rack of clothes. his chin rests on your shoulder, and before you can even react, he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "you've been looking at this for so long," he pouts, swaying you side to side in his hold. you huff a laugh, but before you can respond, he turns your face slightly and plants another kiss—this time on your lips. "jake," you whisper, glancing around, but he just grins, completely unbothered. "what? i missed you," he murmurs, kissing your forehead, then your nose, then the corner of your lips. "missed me? we've been together the whole time," you say, exasperated. he only hums, linking his fingers with yours as he tugs you closer. "doesn't matter," he mumbles, kissing your temple. "i just wanna love on my baby, is that a crime?"

PARK SUNGHOON

"give me that," sunghoon says, already taking the shopping bags from your hands before you can protest. you blink up at him, watching as he effortlessly holds everything—your purse included—like it’s second nature. "sunghoon, i can carry my own stuff," you huff, but he just gives you a look, the one that means don’t even try. "why would you when i’m right here, baby?" he deadpans, adjusting the bags in one hand so he can reach out and tuck your hair behind your ear with the other. "at least let me hold my purse—" "no." his tone is final, but there’s a small smile playing on his lips as he takes your hand instead, lacing your fingers together. "just hold onto me, okay?" he murmurs, squeezing your hand as he leads you forward. and really, how could you ever argue with that?

KIM SUNOO

"baby, hurry!" sunoo whines, tugging at your hand as he weaves through the crowded street with practiced ease, practically dragging you along. his fingers are warm, intertwined with yours. "we need to get there before the line gets too long!" you barely have time to process where “there” even is before he’s pulling you along again. he looks back every few steps, grinning, cheeks slightly flushed from the cold. whenever the crowd gets too dense, he squeezes your hand twice—his little way of checking in. at crosswalks, he swings your joined hands playfully, humming some tune under his breath, and when you finally slow down in front of the café he was so determined to reach, he presses a quick kiss to your knuckles. "see? told you we'd make it," he says smugly, still holding your hand like he’ll never let go.

YANG JUNGWON

"you're cold," jungwon states matter-of-factly, already shrugging off his jacket before you can protest. you barely get a word out before he drapes it over your shoulders, his hands lingering just a little longer to adjust the collar properly. "you should’ve told me earlier." his voice is soft, barely above a whisper, but there’s something so undeniably warm about the way he looks at you. you wrap the oversized jacket tighter around yourself, the scent of his cologne lingering in the fabric, and he chuckles, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. then casually laces his fingers with yours, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. he swings your intertwined hands slightly, his thumb grazing over your knuckles, and when you try to tease him about being so soft, he only grins, leaning in just enough to murmur, "only for you, love."

NISHIMURA RIKI

“guess you’re stuck with me, baby,” riki drawls, already tugging you down before you can protest—not that you ever do. his arms loop around your waist, effortlessly pulling you onto his lap like it’s second nature. it is. “riki,” you sigh, not out of embarrassment but habit, settling against him as his chin drops onto your shoulder. “what? you’d rather stand?” he grins, tilting his head so his lips ghost over your ear. “nah, you love this.” a chuckle rumbles in his chest when you don’t deny it. “see? you fit perfect.” his fingers drum lazily against your hip. across the table, someone raises a brow, but you barely blink—meanwhile, riki revels in their reactions. “jealous?” he teases, smirking at them, then at you. “sorry, but my baby gets vip treatment.” you roll your eyes, but when his hand finds yours, you squeeze back.

[contessaxchaos]

Okay, story time!

In 2015-2016, I've played DA2, DAO, and DAI (in that order). In DAI, all my playthroughs were Trevy x Cullen. I know about Solas ofc; all my Trevys are friends with him.

Last year, after DATV's release month was announced, I decided to go back to DAI and finally nail it on Nightmare difficulty. I also decided to play a mage Lavellan for the first time so I can romance the Egg because I want to see what the Solavellan fuss was about.

And people. my people. my friends. my fellow egg-worshipping-harlots. LISTEN. It inspired me to write. Not just write but bleed on the page.

Here's a list of things I did after Solas broke up with my Lavellan:

I stopped playing the game. I haven't picked it up since.

I went on Reddit to cry about it. Then someone mentioned a fanfic. A what? What's that? [yes i'm not ashamed to say im in my 30s but my reddit is only a year old, this is my first ever tumblr acct, and i've never heard of ao3 and fanfics before that day]

I read Fenhello's "The Promise" and consumed everything else they wrote.

I wrote two smutty scenes. The first one, I will use in my longfic. The second one, I went completely overboard and posted on AO3 [Feast of the Second Moon, explicit as hell, can burn Catholics on contact].

Found beta readers who became friends. 🥰

A lot has changed in the last couple of months after I fell down Solavellan Hell. I have dreams of writing my own novel but in the 10+ yrs of trying, I've only ever accumulated around 50k words across several drafts that aren't finished. But this? After Solavellan, I've written around to 250k words of fics and story planning, plus thousands more talking to people about this ship and the games and BioWare and EA. I've learned more about storytelling in the last couple of months than I did puttering around on my own.😅

That's the power of writing transformative fiction.

That's my speech, thank you!

authors!!

quick question...

also can you remember where you first uploaded your first ever fanfic??

[prettygirl-gabi]

Full-Court Love

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader x Azzi Fudd

POV: First-person

Fandom: UConn’s Women’s Basketball

Word Count: 1,500+

Summary: they make time they always do

Valentine’s Day as a college athlete is a tricky thing.

Between practices, classes, and upcoming games, there’s barely any time to breathe, let alone plan something romantic. And this year? It was even worse.

We had the biggest game of the season against South Carolina on the 16th, which meant Coach had us locked into an intense practice schedule. No distractions. No excuses.

But when you’re dating both Paige Bueckers and Azzi Fudd?

You make time. They make time.

The first sign that Paige and Azzi were up to something came when I walked into the locker room after practice and found a red envelope sitting on top of my bag.

I glanced around, but everyone else was either showering or changing, too focused on their own post-practice routines to notice.

Curious, I picked it up and opened it.

Inside was a simple note, written in Azzi’s neat handwriting:

“Meet us in the film room. Don’t be late. ❤️”

I raised an eyebrow, then shook my head, a smile tugging at my lips.

Whatever they had planned, I already knew it was going to be good.

By the time I got to the film room, I could hear Paige’s laughter through the door.

I pushed it open to find her and Azzi standing in front of the projector screen, which was now displaying a homemade PowerPoint slide that read:

“WHY YOU SHOULD BE OUR VALENTINE”

I blinked. “You made a PowerPoint?”

Paige grinned. “You know I love a good presentation.”

Azzi nodded, holding up a remote. “We have five slides prepared.”

I crossed my arms, biting back a laugh. “This is so unserious.”

Paige smirked. “Just sit down and watch, babe.”

I sighed dramatically but took a seat. “Fine. Impress me.”

Azzi clicked to the next slide, which had a picture of me in my UConn jersey mid-game, looking absolutely locked in. Underneath it, the text read:

“Reason #1: You’re the best player on the team (don’t tell Coach we said that).”

I snorted. “Y’all are ridiculous.”

Paige grinned. “Next slide, Z.”

The next one showed a candid photo of the three of us from last semester, curled up together on the couch, half-asleep during a movie night.

“Reason #2: You make every moment better.”

I felt my heart squeeze a little.

Azzi glanced at me, a small smile on her face. “It’s true. Even when we’re exhausted, just being with you makes everything feel easier.”

Paige nudged her. “Damn, getting sentimental already?”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Paige.”

I grinned, shaking my head. “Y’all are actually kinda cute.”

Paige winked. “Just wait.”

The next slide had a picture of me standing between them after a game, arms around their shoulders, all three of us grinning.

“Reason #3: We love you, duh.”

I exhaled softly, warmth spreading through my chest.

Paige leaned against the desk. “We know the timing sucks this year with the South Carolina game coming up, but we didn’t want today to just feel like any other day.”

Azzi nodded. “So, will you be our Valentine?”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile on my face. “Like I’d ever say no to you two.”

Paige grinned. “Good answer.”

Azzi smirked. “We also have dinner plans.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Coach explicitly said no distractions—”

Paige waved a hand. “Coach didn’t say we couldn’t eat dinner.”

Azzi nodded. “And we already cleared it with the team. A bunch of them are doing their own little date nights before we go full lock-in mode tomorrow.”

I sighed, standing up. “Y’all really thought of everything, huh?”

Paige smirked. “Always.”

Azzi grabbed my hand. “Come on. It’s a surprise.”

They took me to a small, cozy Italian restaurant about fifteen minutes off campus, one of those places you’d never notice unless you were looking for it.

The second we walked in, I realized Paige and Azzi had really planned ahead—the restaurant had a private table set up in the back, complete with dim lighting and a tiny vase of roses in the center.

I turned to them, impressed. “Okay, I was expecting something chill, but y’all actually went all out.”

Paige grinned, pulling out a chair for me. “Only the best for our girl.”

Azzi sat down across from me, smiling softly. “We figured we wouldn’t get much alone time after today, so we wanted to make this one count.”

I glanced between them, warmth pooling in my chest. “I love you two, you know that?”

Paige smirked. “We do now.”

Azzi reached across the table, lacing her fingers with mine. “Love you too.”

Paige nodded, grabbing my other hand. “Love you more.”

I rolled my eyes. “We’re not doing the ‘who loves who more’ thing at this table.”

Azzi smirked. “That sounds like something someone losing would say.”

Paige cackled. “OHH, she got you.”

I groaned. “Y’all are literally the worst.”

Paige winked. “And you love it.”

Unfortunately for me, she wasn’t wrong.

After dinner, we walked back to the car, hands intertwined as the cold February air nipped at our skin.

Paige nudged me playfully. “So, did we do okay?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Okay? Y’all actually managed to surprise me. That’s a first.”

Azzi grinned. “That was the goal.”

I looked between them, my heart feeling way too full. “Best Valentine’s Day ever.”

Paige smirked. “Just wait until next year.”

Azzi nodded. “We’re only getting started.”

And knowing them?

I believed it.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[imaginespazzi]

I Get You Forever

Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you

(In which this current writer would like to thank her past self for having written this months ago so she can still give her beloved readers something tonight)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff

Words: 2.4K (I guess you could call it a drabble)

A/N: Happy Valentine's my lovelies <3 So the plan really was to write an actual Valentine's day fic but well life got in the way and time is not my friend. However, y'all still deserve a little Valentine's treat and so I figured I'd let this out of the vault even though it's not my favorite and it wasn't initially ever intended to leave my drafts. This can also technically be read as a part of eternity-verse if y'all would like. I hope y'all have had a wonderful love day!

Paige’s world changes on a bright and sunny Saturday afternoon, on a riverside court with all her favorite people in attendance. But really, nothing changes at all. Because at the end of the day, she’s still Paige Bueckers, basketball is still her life and she’s still hopelessly and utterly in love with Azzi Fudd. 

If there weren’t cameras videoing every second of it- Paige would lie and say that she hasn’t shed a single tear today. But her eyes have been watery from the minute she’d stepped into the wedding venue, fidgeting with the sleeves of her all white suit. It’s been years in the making, the Paige and Azzi story, even if the soon-to-be wife title still feels a little too mundane for their relationship. Because Azzi has always been more than a best friend or girlfriend or fiancé; she’s Paige’s everything. 

They’d decided to both walk down the aisle at the same time, meeting at the altar set up in the middle of the basketball court. In true Paige and Azzi fashion, the journey down the aisle is decorated with arrangements of pink lilies and purple hydrangeas, contrasted against the otherwise white and blue decór -an ode to UConn- of the rest of the wedding venue. The altar arch itself is canvassed with photos of them, milestones of every second they’d spent learning and loving each other. 

It had taken a fair amount of begging to get Geno Auriemma to say yes to marrying them. Well no, that’s not quite right. Paige had begged for ten minutes and then given the phone to Azzi who had immediately gotten their former coach to agree. Nobody could accuse the old man -who’s now standing right in front of the altar, a scroll in his hands- of not playing favorites. 

The tears from the rest of the day are nothing compared to when the music starts up and Paige finally sees Azzi on the other side of the court. The girl dressed in a simple white off the shoulder dress had been the prettiest girl Paige had ever seen at fifteen, and is still the most gorgeous woman in the world now. She smiles and Paige swears the sun would be jealous of the way Azzi lights up a room. And suddenly all the nerves are gone, everybody else disappears and it’s just Paige and her future. She’s been through a lot in her life, the epic highs, the tragic lows, the boring in between, and through all of it, there’s always been Azzi’s hand firmly grasped in her own, rubbing light patterns against her skin and promising everything gonna be just alright P. And it was. It always would be. As long as Paige gets to hold Azzi’s hand forever. 

It’s a miracle that Paige doesn’t trip on her way down the aisle with the way her eyesight is completely blurry from tears cascading down her face. Thank god for waterproof makeup. Azzi fares just a little bit better, tears brimming but not falling as she continues to smile at Paige, that smile that’s just for her. They’re a little overeager to hold hands by the time they finally meet in the middle and the entire crowd, filled with people who know their ways -know how desperate they are to always be with each other- just a little t00 well and have probably rolled their eyes at their antiques one too many times, laughs. 

“You-holy shit-,” Paige manages to bumble out, “you look really fucking beautiful.”

Azzi laughs, lightly squeezing Paige’s hands, “you don’t look too bad yourself Bueckers.”

“I look fantastic,” Paige scoffs, familiar arrogance intact as always. 

“You look gorgeous,” Azzi corrects and it’s enough to make Paige’s natural blush override the artificial pink that had been put on there by her makeup artist. 

They grin goofily at each other and Paige is just about to lean in for a kiss, forgetting her whereabouts when Coach coughs loudly. 

“You wouldn’t know it from the way these fools are behaving,” he begins and another round of laughter rings out through the crowd, “but we’re here today to marry these two idiots.”

“You’re only talking about Paige right Coach?”

“HEY.”

“Well you’re the one marrying her so you’ve got to be a bit of an idiot too,” Coach says pointedly, “now shut up and let me marry you.”

“Yes sir,” both Paige and Azzi say, sharing a commiserating grin between the two of them. 

“For those of you who don’t know me a) you should and b) my name’s Geno Auriemma and I am the poor Coach who had the misfortune of watching these two fuck up play after play. That is, when they weren’t being idiots on the bench because that’s where they spent half their UConn careers- oh we can laugh about that now,” he says with a smirk when the crowd chuckles, “but it was like the world was ending back then. But somehow these two still managed to keep a smile on their faces. And a part of that is a credit to their own characters, but a lot of it is because they had each other.”

Paige uses her thumb to write I love you against the back of Azzi’s hand as the other girl finally lets a tear fall from her eyes. 

“You know when Paige first told me she was gonna help recruit Azzi, I thought ‘like hell she is’. Except I forgot that if there’s one person more stubborn and persistent than me in this world, it’s probably Paige. And as I watched her recruit Azzi, I knew it was a done deal. And no, I’m not talking about Azzi’s commitment. I knew they were a done deal and I knew that this moment was not a if but a when. And I can’t lie, it took these dumbasses some time, way too much time if we’re being honest but-” the entire crowd nods in agreement as Paige and Azzi let out identically watery laughs, “they figured it out. When it comes to each other, they always figure it out.”

And then Coach’s face morphs into something serious, the amused smile on his face turning into a more sincere one, “I have watched a lot of wonderful things happen at UConn. I have watched my players chase perfection on and off the court and I’ve always said that the thing about perfection is that it’s unattainable. Well unless you’re UConn, then a perfect season is pretty easy. That’s one exception. And the other exception,” he smiles at his former star players, “is Paige and Azzi. I have never met two people more perfect for each other and I am so incredibly honored to be the one to marry them today.”

“Damn Coach,” Paige teases, still sniffling, “you getting soft on us?”

“Shut up and say your damn vows Bueckers,” Coach snaps but there’s no denying the proud smile on his face or the slight tremble in his voice. 

Paige smiles nervously, anchored only by the way Azzi’s tracing a pattern on her palms. She’d written and deleted and then re-written them multiple times; no word, no sentence seemed to convey just how much she loved the woman in front of us. 

“Everybody knows that I don’t really shut up,” she begins, eliciting giggles from her enamored audience, “but today I really am at a loss for words. And that’s okay. Because Azzi, you’ve always known how to listen for the words I’ve never been able to say out loud- ah shit-” she curses as the avalanche of tears hits immediately, “excuse me- the first thing I noticed about Azzi was how perfect her three pointer was. And then I quickly realized that actually, there wasn’t a thing about Azzi that wasn’t perfect. Well except for her cooking but that’s okay baby, thankfully we can afford a chef,” that earns her a little nudge in the stomach- “y’all see how she bullies me?-” and another, “okay okay aight I’m sorry.”

Paige sucks in a deep breath before she starts to speak again. 

“Before I met you Az, I used to feel so fucking heavy all the time. And I didn’t even realize that not feeling that way was a possibility until our trip home from Argentina. I didn’t know that I could feel all light and floaty inside, I didn’t know that I could feel free,” Paige chokes up at the last word, “baby you have taught me so many things, but more than anything you’ve taught me the meaning of the word unconditional. You’ve taught me how to love unconditionally and you’ve taught me how to be loved unconditionally. I don’t know if there’s a word invented yet for just how secure you make me feel but I wake up every damn day knowing without a doubt that however my day goes, it’ll always be you and me at the end,” Paige takes in another shaky breath, “I am a lot of things. A basketball player, a teammate, a daughter, a sister, a friend, the ultimate rizzler,” she winks at the crowd before looking at the love of her life, “but more than anything, baby I am yours. Your best friend, your soulmate, your ride or die and soon I’ll be your wife. All yours. Only yours. I have been since the moment I met you and if you’ll deal with me for that long, then till the day I die. I’m yours Azzi. And every day, I’m glad that you choose to be mine.”

The crowd is clapping and from her peripheral vision, Paige can tell that both sets of parents are in tears. Hell, there’s barely a dry eye in the audience. But all Paige really cares about is the woman in front of her, the woman who still looks at her like she wants to memorize every little bit of her, the woman who’s mouthing i love you through her tears and Paige knows she means it, knows beyond a doubt that she’ll always mean it. 

“Did I do good?” the blonde can’t help but smirk. 

Azzi laughs waterily, “fuck off Bueckers, you know you did good.”

“You gonna beat me?”

Azzi doesn’t answer, shaking her head fondly as their family and fans begin to calm down in anticipation of the other bride’s speech. 

“When I first met Paige,” Azzi begins, a smirk playing on her lips, “my first thought was that there’s no way this white girl’s gonna be any good at playing basketball. I quickly realized I was wrong. When I first kissed Paige, I thought, there’s no way this white girl’s gonna be my forever-”

“Hey-”

“As y’all can tell, I was wrong that time too. It’s a good thing that I’m not the one making these decisions about love and life. First of all because I can’t make a decision for shit as we all know. And second of all because I think God knew. He knew there was never gonna be anyone who could protect me harder, hold me tighter or love me any more than you do,” Azzi’s voice cracks, and Paige instinctively reaches out to wipe away her tears, “unlike Paige. I don’t really like to talk that much,” the audience laughs, “but I like to talk to Paige. My favorite part of my day is when I get to talk to her. Not because I’m dying to say something but because I like the way she looks at me when I talk, like she’s memorizing every sentence I say, like every word out my mouth is the most important one she’ll ever hear. Baby,” she smiles at Paige, “you make me feel seen. I like to hide from the spotlight but I never, ever want to hide from you.”

Azzi pauses, letting out a breath as she tightens her grip on Paige’s hand. 

“I was a big disney kid but despite that, I was always a bit of a skeptic. I wasn't really the kind of person who believed in fairytales or magic or all of that. But you- you turned me into a believer and the thing I believe in the most is you. Paige Bueckers you are my magic, you are my fairytale and you are my happily ever after,” Azzi presses a kiss to Paige’s knuckles, “I’m not much of a talker but every damn day I thank fourteen year old me for getting over her nerves and talking to you on that plane even if she didn’t know that, that white girl was gonna change her life then,” she swallows back her tears, “because you did. And now there’s one thing in my life that will never change, and that’s you. You are my constant, my anchor. Paige Madison Bueckers you are my whole world. and you always will be.”

And Paige knows there are traditions, but that doesn’t stop her from pulling Azzi into a kiss that she hopes encapsulates everything she’s feeling. They’ve never been one for rules anyways. 

“If the two of you are done,” Coach says slyly as they break apart, “can we do the rings?”

Paige and Azzi nod as Drew brings them two silver wedding bands, each engraved on the inside with the other’s name. They giddily repeat the with this ring I thee wed statements, delicately placing the rings on each other’s fingers. 

“Do you, Paige Madison Bueckers take this-”

“I do,” Paige says hurriedly, earning her a bunch of chuckles. 

“This is why Azzi’s my favorite. She’ll let me finish,” Coach says with a sigh before turning to the brunette, “do you Azzi Jazlyn Fudd, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife.”

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

“You may now-”

They don’t wait for Coach to finish the sentences, both of them surging forward at the same time, eager to finally kiss each other as wives. And it isn’t that different from when they were best friends or girlfriends or fiancés. They’re still Paige and Azzi and they’re still completely and utterly in love with each other. From now, and until eternity.

“So who won the vows?” Paige whispers against Azzi’s lip, her wife’s lip. 

Azzi smiles, pressing their foreheads together,  “I won, because I get you forever now.”

“And I get you forever.”

[myunghology]

━ 𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐞𝐛𝐚,, all twst boys!

╭₊˚ ๑︰❝ twst dorms with their ever after high counter parts! ❞

pairings all dorms, but seperate! x fem reader, reader is not yuu (mc). can be read as either platonic or romantic

cw none.. as far as i know

a/n — YAYYY happy valentinesssss <3 not exactly counter parts, but characters who i think would fit into their dorms!

HEARTSLABYUL — ( madeline hatter, daughter of the mad hatter! reader )

riddle finds you somewhat charming, in your own way, but that doesn't mean he doesn't get ticked off by you sometimes. that being said, he definitely loves having tea parties with you, it's so much more fun!

definitely a little bit chaotic, oh, but what can one expect from the daughter of the mad hatter? thinks it's a little bit silly that you have a teacup as a hat, but it definitely works for someone like you.

i think he'd get along with your pet dorm mouse, finds it quite cute from how it delightfully serves the both of you tea whilst you pat it's head with your index finger as a token of appreciation <3

trey would also love having you around for tea. for him-- someone like you in heartslabyul is like a refreshing breath of air. a little bit out of hand, but he still adores having you around.

baking with you is the best! trey just smiles sheepishly when you bring out ingredients out from your silly little hat, ingredients you didn't even know you needed-- but stuffed it in just in case.

a little bit ridiculed from how you can say such smart things, but then saying “but mmm, i dunno!” right after, when his mind is practically in shambles from what you just said.

cater!!!!! you'd get along with him so much compared to the other boys, just because he thinks you're so silly and so adorable! you definitely pop up in his magicam posts most of the time <3

maybe he will admit a bit he spends time with you and takes his daily clicks for social media, but he does genuinely enjoy spending time with you! you could yap on for hours on end and he'd just be sitting there happily listening to you.

i fear you'd pick up his speech habits as well.. just out of spite and out of pure fun, and he loovess it. thinks you're the cutest and most favorite thing in the world when you imitate him like that!

ace is definitely something. he'd enjoy getting reactions out of you-- but at the same time, your reactions are so unpredictable that sometimes he'd rather not.. he definitely found you weird the first time you met, but he's slowly warming up!

feels so proud of himself once you start clapping and giggling when he shows you his card tricks, you're the first one he'd show his tricks to right before he decides to play 'em onto deuce <3

makes his heart flutter just a bit (his words, not mine). when he sees you cheer for him the loudest whenever he has his basketball matches, he'll definitely give his 100% in the match now!

deuce looks up to you.. in a way. he just loves how you're so optimistic about everything and he adores you! both romantically and generally.

lots of “how do you do that?” from him whenever you pull out random stuff out of your hat, and you just respond with a giggle while bringing out stuff he's lost for literal ages. stuff he thought ace stole, by the way.

deuce just loves the way you're so different from everyone he's met, the way you happily jump up and down when you find out you passed with flying colors on a test, the way you you get along so well with everyone, basically everything about you.

SAVANACLAW — ( cerise hood, daughter of the big bad wolf! reader )

leona.. to be honest, i don't think your first meeting went that well. but to be fair, he does respect you for being so tough, as you should be. maybe the fault was more on your side, but you were just being cautious.

it's a little bit awkward with him the first time, but i think you both would develop a mutual respect for each other over the time being. i personally think you two would try to out-sass each other from time to time, but that's just me.

you still find him a little bit too cocky and lazy for your liking, but you'll get used to it in some time. but it was nice seeing him defend you from pretty sexist students, and then just brushing it off like it's nothing.

ruggie, it's like a game of cat and mouse with him.. get the joke? sorry.. no pun intended. he'd want to, or at least attempt to charm or out-wit you in some way, immediately realizing you're someone who has a no-nonsense attitude.

you two respect each other to a good enough amount though, once you get closer. yes, another one who's just as competitive as his housewarden when it comes to challenges. you're a lot more alike than one might think.

sarcastic x "i'll kill you", don't let him get under your skin, he's just there to berate you in a loving way, i swear! he's just trying to get you to open up, is all <3

jack is also, another no-nonsense person, just like you! yes, you we're cautious at first, but you warmed up to him faster than the others. he's respectful and well-mannered, what's not to like about the guy?

not that much of a flashy friendship, but you two understand each other just fine. even if it's just a nod, he'll know immediately what you meant by that little gesture. probably bonded by shared determination.

your number 1 defender besides leona himself, he's quick-witted enough to notice even when someone's belittling or even underestimating you in the slightest ways, he'll jump right in to defend you, just like what he does with anyone else.

OCTAVINELLE — ( meeshell mermaid, daughter of the little mermaid! reader. )

azul, it's better to be cautious of him at first. he's a smooth talker and he's smart, and you're more of a dreamer, so that doesn't work out that well. so, naturally, he sees you as a business opportunity. you could see right through him.

to be fair.. you were, in fact a little bit swayed with his smooth talking the first time you met, but then shook your head and snapped back into reality once you realize with a dead-panned look plastered on your face.

but i guess, in some ways, you two both work. especially when azul's being vulnerable, you'd push all the tension between the both of you aside and be right there with him. thus— he swears to hold off all of his schemes. for you, at least.

jade's is a little bit of a slow-burn, i fear you'd be a bit off-put by his calm nature at first, getting a gut feeling that somethings wrong. you would've been able to admit that anyway. at least not to his face.

he just loves teasing you as well, finding all your reactions adorable and from the way you hide yourself when you're embarrassed, but he finds your emotional awareness refreshing for a feeling. i mean.. who won't? just look at his dormmates.

i think he just means well.. overtime, he teaches you to be more aware of the people around you. honorable mention to azul.. who definitely didn't try to just get you into a pyramid scheme upon first meeting you, so you're thankful to jade.

floyd, you better run. you're an easy target. small, cute, gets flustered easily, what else could he want in a new little plaything? i mean that affectionately. whilst the other tries their best to stop him, he's just.. "imma do what i want to her and no one can stop me".

although you're likely on edge whenever the eel is around, you do, sometimes, unfortunately, like his company. it's quite a nice contrast to your calm and collected one, being the literal opposite of your character. you really do appreciate how much fun he brings into your life, and he appreciates you practically for being in his life.

you're naïve and easy to tease, but he soon learns not to push you away too much, since, well, he doesn't want to admit it, but he's starting to like your company and slowly but surely is getting attached to you as a whole.

SCARABIA — ( apple white, daughter of snow white! reader. )

kalim, okay, hear me out, daughter of apple white, just please try to understand my vision here. you were a little bit startled when you met him, but he was cute.. you're used to being more of a well-mannered and dignified person, so it was definitely new, but in a good way!

he'd find you admirable, of course. like many others here, he just loves how you're so polite but can set boundaries at the same exact time. you're just.. the definition of perfection to kalim in his eyes. but he does want you to just let go and have some fun sometimes.

you help jamil with helping kalim stay on the ground sometimes when things get out of hand, and they're both grateful for that. he does, still think you should loosen up a little and have some fun with him out of love <3 you just think he's a little sweetheart, in all honesty.

jamil, on the other hand, i think there was a little bit of tension when you two first met. you admire how he's quite reserved yet still respectful to those around him, even though his face literally says otherwise. but in the end, you just learn to laugh it off with your dear kalim.

even though you both may or may not get into small debates sometimes, i'd say you get along well, especially in terms of respect. even tho he does think it's quite cute about how you daydream about little things, he'd pull you right back into the ground out of love.

you two share duties in the dorm, even though he insists that it's fine and he doesn't need help, but you insist even more and saying that two people are better than one when it comes to things like this, and he truly, really appreciates everything you've done for their dorm.

POMEFIORE — ( raven queen, daughter of the evil queen! reader. )

vil really does admire your beauty in a little bit of a detached way. while you two can butt heads about your opinions sometimes, he still appreciates you for setting a new point of view into his life. if you let him pamper you in return, for a price!

you're someone who doesn't want to fit into standards, and vil is well, all about the standards. definitely gave each other bit of a dirty look when you first met, but it only goes up from there! at least i could only hope so.

the others think your bickering is quite silly, but it's really all in good fun. you help each other grow in your own ways, and it's actually really cute. he's content enough with how you are, so he would prefer not to change anything about you so far. keep it like that! or not.

rook and his love for your personality is really something. your playful little banters and small signs of flirtation go by quite easily to your surprise! he's a little bit overwhelming for your tastes sometimes, but it'll be all good.

to put it straight, rook was immediately captivated by you. a bit uncomfortable from the way he eyes you up and down, or as some people like to put it— examine you. but you two do bond over the little stuff, like rook with his archery and you with your dragon riding!

the type of person who'd see right through you, someone who'd squish your face with his hands to make you face up at him when he notices your gaze trail off to the side, asking you if you're okay with that soft smile on his face as he pinches your cheek.

epel, is an admirer of you! admire is a stretch, but it's not even close to how much he loves you. he wants to be just like you! strong and intimidating, but in your own sense. and yet still polite enough to teach him and calm him down about topics like this and brush it off saying it's nothing.

whilst he does practically worship you at this point, your relationship with epel is still, really, very playful. your humor's a bit dry, so whenever he teases, or rather attempts to tease you, you'd make fun of him for wanting to be manly, and being not manly enough.

"so.. are 'ya always this serious? can i get a smile outta 'ya?" is something he'd usually ask upon first meeting you, not even bothering to hide his accent because he can already tell you can see right through him. whilst you respond with a small smile, "if you want me to smile, you gotta earn it."

IGNIHYDE — ( blondie lockes, daughter of goldilocks! reader. )

idia would be somewhat overwhelmed by you, you're so.. energetic, pretty, bright, bubbly— anything positive he can think of. you really try your best to interact with him more, even if it means talking to a screen, which isn't really the type of communication of your choice.

you do admit, you never really notice the way you unintentionally tease idia for his habits, he knows you mean well, especially when you nag him affectionately about going out when he'd rather ramble about technology with you in the dorm rooms.

he really finds it cute when you ask him about random stuff with the topic of technology. it's adorable when you ask him to teach you coding since you want to make your own game— wanting to tell you it's not all that fun, but who could resist that face of yours, really?

ortho really finds you fun to be around. you'd find ortho extremely cute when you first meet him, almost immediately approaching him— but not even asking him about his robotic nature even though you are asking tons of questions, and this makes him feel really special <3

he'd help you with anything without even needing you to ask, assisting you with absolutely anything you need with a smile on his face. you're literally another sibling figure to him and he loves it so much! when you ask him if he can feel what you're feeling and he technically says yes, you immediately say "then can you feel my excitement of getting a snack right now?!"

your hobby being vlogging means your camera being broken sometimes, but worry not! ortho is here to help! and he swears it'll be better than before. you're always so positive that it's contagious to him! he gets motivated just because of you :)

DIASOMNIA — ( briar beauty, daughter of aurora! reader. )

malleus? pshh. you weren't even intimidated by him in the slightest bit. not from his status, at least. you weren't overwhelmed and quite literally just approached him respectfully out of curiosity. and he waaaass waiting for you to approach him, so it's a win-win in this case!

"so you're a prince, huh? i don't mind a bit of drama every now and then." he hears you say with a smile on your face, while he asks if you're not afraid of his presence when you just brush it off, saying you don't really have time to be afraid of people like him when he's generally really nice.

it's just so refreshing seeing you skip the formalities saying, "if we're gonna be together all the time, let's just skip them!" with a cheer. you're literally a royal, but you seem so different from your background, it makes him quite happy.. oh, and he's quite protective over you. he insists on coming with you every time you're going somewhere alone.

lilia would find this interesting. you'd often tease him for being a literal century old fae as he just brushes it off with a small chuckle. whilst he claps back with reminding you you'd go to sleep for hundreds of years, making you pout.

you're sharp enough to see through his little pranks, earning him a smack on the head from you, when he says you're no fun at all, you respond with he'll have to try harder next time around. like malleus, he's also, definitely, protective of you.

he says he's not babying you but he is, and it's painfully obvious from the way you can sense his presence around when you're alone out walking. he just wants you to stay safe in his own way, let him do his thing!

silver, woah, you two have a lot in common. especially with the sleeping thing and kinda— coming from the same origins. but he finds your presence comforting, it's a new thing with him! just be careful <3

you often poke him about being too quiet, teasing him about quote unquote "sleeping with his eyes opened", making him laugh softly while he tells you that he isn't sleeping, just observing. observing you, in a subtle way.. but he prefers not to admit it. at least not now?

literally everyone in diasomnia is protective when it comes to you. you're like.. the most protected person in the history of night raven college. silver would hold your hand to prevent you from wandering off into the woods alone, saying it's dangerous for a beauty like you, playfully referencing your last name.

sebek is, well... something! you have a push and pull relationship with him, and it's cute in it's own way. he's intense and he's a no-nonsense type of person! so.. you were probably more intimidated by him than you were with malleus.

you'd often mock his ways of speech, saying stuff like; "i must uphold the honor of the great malleus draconia!” with a hand on your heart, giggling playfully as he scowls at you in a lovingly way, trust me on this. he does find it cute when you imitate him, though..

yes, once again, protective. saying you shouldn't be going messing around so light-heartedly, adding that you shouldn't be so reckless whilst being the princess of briar valley, just like malleus, whilst you whine and say that you don't just want to wait for a prince to save you like that.

a/n — LORD I AM STRONG. FOR WRITING THIS IN UNDER 3 HOURS

[macleod]

so, funny thing, I rarely ever mention it, but Al Capone is my great-great uncle, and according to my great-grandmother he was "the nicest, funniest, and most loving of anyone in the entire f/Family". Everyone loved him if you were decent. He just really hated cops, the government, politicians, and racists.

He had a spectacular original spaghetti recipe that I need to dig out, because he was supposedly an excellent cook, and she would fight to mention that he didn't start the soup kitchens, or the literacy clubs, as a way of only commiting tax evasion (as most documentaries and historians love to say, but likely didn't hurt his financial endeavors), but that he got into the whole mob thing only because he wanted to protect the community, get them some good food, and ensure they were literate and able to hold themselves higher against a system that worked against the people.

He was anti-prohibition, pro-sex work, pro-womens rights, and assumed to be anti-racist (for the time, he was ralso ather notable for hiring and including other minorities, including african-americans in family gatherings, at his clubs, in his security, and working at his home, and both his cook and butler spoke at length how well he treated them and paid far higher than expected – keep in mind, he was an Italian in Chicago, they considered Italians on the same level in some regards, so he would be possibly understanding of the plight).

While he was openly 'anti-communist' and pro-capitalist, I believe he would be considered the opposite today, considering that if you read most of what he's said, he would be more akin to a modern socialist and would likely be staunchly anticapitalist, but it was the 20s and the confusion is understandable.

Was he a murderer? Not sure, on a personal level, he certainly had others to commit atrocities, but according to my great grandmother "he couldn't hurt a fly".

Now, keep in mind he made nearly all of his revenue from bootlegging hospitality, during prohibition to the tune of hundreds of millions a year, an industry that was highly illegal and targeted by the government, I call it hospitality as he was quoted as saying: "When I sell liquor, they call it bootlegging. When my patrons serve it on silver trays on Lake Shore Drive, they call it hospitality".

Some additional quotes:

"I have always been opposed to violence, to shootings. I have fought, yes, but fought for peace. And I believe I can take credit for the peace that now exists in the racket game in Chicago. I believe that the people can thank me for the fact that gang killings here are probably a thing of the past."

"I'm tired of gang murders and gang shootings. It's a tough life to lead. You fear death at every moment, and worse than death, you fear the rats of the game who'd run around and tell the police if you don't constantly satisfy them with money and favors."

"I want peace, and I will live and let live. I'm like any other man. I've been in this racket long enough to realize that a man in my game must take the breaks, the fortunes of war. I haven't had any peace of mind in years. Every minute I'm in danger of death."

"Why not treat our business like any other man treats his, as something to work at in the daytime and forget when he goes home at night? There's plenty of business for everybody. Why kill each other over it?"

A fairly decent article from 2016 that I just found has the title of "Al Capone caused less death and destruction than today’s capitalists" and within that he let this piece of information out, which I feel is entirely authentic from everything I've ever read, and heard, on him:

In my youth, I met several men who had once worked for Al Capone, and every one of them liked him. They talked about Capone offering them jobs during the Great Depression, when it was difficult for most workers to find employment. All of them had driven trucks into Canada, loaded up with booze, and brought it back to warehouses in the USA.

And, since its Valentines Day, the anniversary of the "St. Valentines Day Massacre" that shook the country, and took the lives of seven people (if only they knew what happens every day in America, 96 years later...), there is very little evidence that he was the orchestrator, and in fact, several biographers now believe it was someone hellbent on revenge against him.

Now, I am not going to deny that he likely did some incredibly wrong things, he absolutely did, but given everyone I know, have read, and have seen from him, he seems decent enough given the circumstances.

It's hilarious to me that Al Capone was an amazing tipper. I get why it took so long to catch him.

[amywritesthings]

your only, hopefully.

pairing: caleb x f!reader (love and deepspace) word count: 4.3k summary: You get stood up on your very first Valentine's Day date. Caleb, as always, manages to save the day.

rated mature // pre-main story, valentine's day fluff, psuedo-incest, use of 'gege' (big brother), unresolved romantic tension, a sprinkle of angst, a ton of yearning, first kiss, foot massage, virgin!caleb credit: dividers by @/saradika-graphics

( READ ON AO3. )

  [INCOMING MESSAGE] : Sry, can’t make it tonight :( 

You’ve read the text message at least a dozen times.

The thirteenth still has yet to register in your mind, though the belated anger, the confusion — the shame — creeps in like a cold sweat on the back of your neck.

Everything was almost perfect. You’d just set your makeup with a misting spray. One foot remains in a nude-colored high heel while the other foot remains on the fuzzy rectangular rug below, slanting you at an uncomfortable angle.

What once fit you perfectly now feels too tight.

Gran said buying a Valentine’s Day dress was special, that it could carry a lot of sweet memories, yet you find yourself disgusted by the crimson red hugging your body.

(Should you have known? Did you miss a sign between the lines?)

There is a knock on your door, but your brain doesn’t register the gentle wraps.

Jazzy saxophone and gentle drums, your romantic pre-game ambience, now croons morosely on your laptop; songs about love and finding the one and all that—

All that bullshit.

Hours.

You spent hours getting ready for a romantic evening that wasn't even happening now.

Your nostrils flare with the settling irritation in your belly when you grit your teeth, the feeling so overwhelming that you act without thinking:

Shrieking silently behind your pressed red lips, the sound muffled, you kick to launch your unsecured heel towards the door—

“Whoa!”

As if by divine fate (or misfortune) you watch in budding horror as Caleb darts out of the way of the offending shoe, crouching to the floor with his hands over his head.

Gege — formerly the most popular boy at school, now the golden wonder boy of the skies. Every person who has ever met him has wanted to know him, let alone date him, and you cannot blame them.

He's effortlessly kind, funny in his own right, and the type of classically handsome people think about when they dream up a hot-shot pilot with a bright future ahead of him.

He’s supposed to be out by wining and dining all of the amazing girls he’s met while away from home, yet he’s somehow standing — no, crumpled — at your bedroom door in a casual muscle tank-top and gray sweatpants.

“Caleb!” you exhale in shock.

(The text is forgotten, if only for one precious second.)

Remaining crouched, he continues to keep his eyes closed. 

“Could’ve warned me with a think fast, pipsqueak.”

 “I’m — shit, I’m so sorry,” you rasp as you rush over to him. “I didn’t think you’d be home.”

With that cocky smirk tugging at his lips, Caleb reveals a playful violet eye before freezing.

The other eye opens slowly, the confidence all but wiped off of his face when he stares at you.

The facade erases as fast as a passing cloud.

“...whoa.”

Stopping in your tracks, your brows knit. “What?”

“Where’d you get that?” he asks after a beat, voice a little tighter than before.

His gaze flicks down, then up to the crown of your head, then only a fraction lower as if willing himself to keep his eyes focused on your face and your face alone.

“I don’t remember that being in your closet.”

“That’s because I bought it earlier this week,” you state, matter of fact. You look down at the sparkling red dress with disdain. “Not that it matters now.”

Finally standing at full height, you watch Caleb’s throat bob before he steps into the threshold of your bedroom.

“Uh… why? Your friends cancelling for a night in? Makes sense. Saves money.”

Giving him a knowing glare, you cross your arms over your chest and sigh away the creeping embarrassment. “Not quite.”

“Cancelling in general?” he tries again, mirroring his arms over his broad chest. The motion accentuates his naked biceps.

(Huh. They look bigger since he last visited.)

“Worse,” you conclude. 

“Worse?”

“I got stood up by a guy in my hunter class, so that’ll be awesome to kick off Monday with.”

Before he can hide it, you see it: his jaw clenches, tight, and a dark shadow passes over his expression.

The playful boy you’ve grown up with disappears in a flash.

“Who’s the asshole?” he asks flatly. “Does he live nearby?”

“Caleb.”

“Was he going to come pick you up?”

“Caleb.”

“I have privileges now, pipsqueak. You point me in the right direction and I’ll—”

“Gege! Enough."

The old name of endearment you’ve retired when he turned eighteen, buried with the rest of your bizarre family memorabilia — one that’s only stayed in your mind and never exited your mouth ever since — slips.

Caleb’s eyes flash with discontent until you reach for his face, sandwiching his cheeks between your palms.

In an instant the heat is snuffed out, and he relaxes without any further debate.

You know how he gets.

Not quite jealousy, not entirely overprotection.

I’d fly to the sun and back for you, pipsqueak, you know that.

(You do. You know he would.)

Caleb will blindly step out of this home to go find whatever man scorned you on Valentine’s Day and take whatever repercussions arrive, no questions asked.

His affection for you has always run deeper than the familial title Gran suggested when you were both so very small.

Caleb, you protect your mei mei by any means necessary.

He took that vow seriously, even now when you’re both adults.

“It’s fine,” you reassure him — and yourself. “It’s stupid anyway. Valentine’s Day is barely a holiday.”

Brows furrowed, Caleb raises his hand to meet you, eclipsing your own. His skin is always so warm, soft despite the callouses from his vigorous workouts.

The softness of this gesture melts away the rest of your rage into an evaporating puddle at your feet.

“It’s not stupid,” he states. “You were excited about going out, and some punk took for granted the best girl in Linkon City.”

His eyes widen briefly before his fingers curl over yours.

“Nope. Uh-uh. The night has barely begun.”

When he tugs you towards your bedroom door, your first step stumbles. “Wait, what?”

“We’re going out.”

Are you hearing things?

“We — huh?”

“Go wait for me in the living room, alright?” he states, briefly kissing the back of your hand before letting go. “I’m sure Gran kept some of my presentable stuff hung up in my closet. Shouldn’t take me that long to get ready. A buddy of mine’s brother owns a restaurant in the shopping district.”

“But Caleb—”

“Ah-ah, nope.”  

His lips pop the ‘p’ purposefully.

Caleb turns in a semi-circle to you, his boyish black hair skating over his eyes as the cockiness returns in a grin. 

“Actually — might wanna grab your that shoe you tried attacking me with and its twin, then go wait for me in the living room. Can’t have you runnin’ barefoot on the sidewalk. You catch colds too easily.”

.

.

.

.

.

In true Caleb fashion, he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

But you have better things to do than placate me!

(It isn’t placating if I want to do it, pipsqueak.)

But you probably have to return super early in the morning!

(Don’t care. I’ve pulled all-nighters worse than this.)

Caleb, you really don’t have to—

(Don’t finish that sentence.)

So you don’t.

Words cease to exist the minute you see Caleb walk out of his bedroom wearing his original Deepspace Aviation Administration dress uniform. You’ve only seen it once before at his graduation, all buttoned up in properly pressed olives and golds.

He walks towards you with that signature smirk of his, the one that makes just about everyone in Linkon City — and now Skyhaven — swoon no matter where he goes.

He looks beautiful.

(He should be out spending this holiday with a proper girlfriend, not you.)

It’s the mantra on your mind the entire way to the restaurant.

The way he holds the door open for you.

The way he pulls your chair out and makes sure you’re properly situated at a candlelit table.

The way he reaches across the table to squeeze your hand as if to reassure you—

Or himself—

That it’s not weird.

It isn’t, right?

Being here with the person who knows you best after all these years when you were meant to be sitting across from a damn near stranger; it isn’t like anyone in this restaurant knows your unusual upbringing, what you mean to one another.

So you squeeze back, and you see it: the tension in Caleb’s shoulders fades away.

For what it’s worth, his friend’s restaurant is far better than whatever you were going to have with your ghost.

The two of you share a bottle of wine and have the longest conversations you’ve held since he left for the academy.

Like the old days.

The ones where you’d spend countless hours in the summer heat enjoying the fireflies. 

The night skies littered with stars and swallowed by light pollution — that never stopped Caleb from telling you all about the planes passing over your heads.

Infectious; the sheer excitement to think of a new tomorrow waiting at the end of today.

And like two kids who didn’t know any better, you fell victim to speaking like the other would be an important part of that very tomorrow.

Video calls nightly, reduced to phone calls.

Phone calls weekly, reduced to texts.

Texts to… well, surprises like this.

Now, in the present, he’s still important. He’s still your gege, even if that title is a square piece trying to fit in a circular hole. 

No person will ever fill the Caleb-sized hole left in his absence as he reaches for the stars he so desperately wished to seek.

(And the wine’s beginning to taste like he needs to know that.)

.

.

.

.

.

“C’mon. Hop up.”

You’re several blocks from the restaurant walking in silence when Caleb is the first to break through the silence. 

Ordering any and all desserts off the menu that your heart desires, demanding the check to pay completely on his own dime — he’s spoiled you and then some tonight. 

I’ll take care of you, remember? That was my promise.

Except this is Valentine’s Day.

(Don’t you understand the importance of Valentine’s Day, gege?)

The question lingers on your tongue with venomous self hatred. Caleb has always been quick to act as your savior, putting your needs above all else, but this was the one night where you wanted something special. 

You can’t be special to the man walking beside you, not in the way the holiday suggests.

Too many problems.

Too many implications.

(We’re not joined by blood, only wine.)

That very wine turns sour the longer your heels irritate your feet in this slow, silent trek back to Gran’s house.

It’s when his melodic voice snaps you out of your mental spiral, causing your eyes to meet a softening violet gaze.

Winking, he assumes position: the taller man playfully squats with his hands low and at the ready to catch you mid-flight.

“What?” you finally blurt, trying to catch up to where this came from.

“C’mon, you’ve been wobbling on those heels for two blocks,” Caleb states, nodding once and nearly knocking his aviation cap. “Get on up here.”

“You want to carry me?”

“Does it look like I’m proposing anything else?” he retorts. “Don’t get big and brave. Big and brave means we’ll be dealing with blisters.” 

When you hesitate a second more, his voice drops to a gentler tone. 

“You’re overthinking, pipsqueak. I don’t want you hurting your feet. You got a city to keep safe in the morning, remember?”

Damn it.

He’s not wrong.

Relentling as you sling your small purse over your shoulder, you assume position with your arms wrapped around his neck.

When you hop up, Caleb effortlessly catches you without so much as a grunt from the added weight.

“Thatta girl. See, was that so hard?”

“I don’t have my hunter’s license yet,” you answer instead, combating his earlier sentiment as you relax against his back. He’s always been strong, but you're surprised by the sheer muscle nestled against your chest. “I’m not saving any lives right now.”

“You never know,” he states as he easily maneuvers across the street to stay the course leading to Gran’s house. “You’re smart. Capable. Strong. Who’s to say you don’t graduate early?”

“Oh, har-har,” you grumble as you drop your cheek against his back. Even if you can’t see it, the low chuckle he emits helps you envision a growing grin. “I won’t be graduating tomorrow. Early, maybe, but definitely not tomorrow.”

“How’s it going, by the way?”

“Mm?”

“Hunter school, duh.”

“Oh, you’re asking now?”

Caleb turns a corner, giving him a momentary pause. “You didn’t seem like you wanted to talk about it at dinner.”

No, you didn’t.

(It’s so irritating, being seen sometimes.)

“Besides getting ditched for a date?” you inquire. “Not bad.”

Biceps tense against your sides.

“You didn’t get ditched,” he corrects, airier than before. “You made better plans.”

“Technically you told me to grab my shoes, so I didn’t make anything,” you argue in return, the wine adding a boldness to your tongue. “I just followed your orders.”

With a tsk, tsk, tsk under his breath, the fingers around your thighs squeeze the bare flesh as a teasing warning to knock it off.

Caleb finally crosses the street to Gran’s front door, only setting you down to fish the front door key from his uniform pocket.

As soon as he has the door opened, however, he props it with his knee and loops an arm around your back.

Using the hand curled around your upper arm, he pushes you backwards and straight into his arms. He scoops just under your knees in a bridal style carry through the threshold of the house.

Your shriek twists into a bewildered cackle at the abruptness of his gentlemanly reprise, your arms scrambling to hold his neck for dear life.

He carefully maneuvers you both into your bedroom. “What?” he asks with amusement peppering his tone. “Something up?”

“Yes!” you laugh as he gingerly sets you down on your bed. “Or — I guess not anymore.”

Caleb grins as he drops to a knee, his slender fingers deftly working on the loops of your heels.

“Haven’t heard you laugh like that since high school.”

“No?”

“Nah,” he states, sliding the shoe off with caution — avoiding any possible blisters they may have caused while simultaneously searching your heel and toes for blemishes. When satisfied, he starts on the second heel. “It’s nice.”

“You’re making fun of me.”

“I’m being serious, pipsqueak,” he replies, brows knit together with another huff of amusement. “I was afraid hunter school would’ve wiped off your sense of humor or something. The pros in the field always seem so… serious.”

His fingers absently rub along the arch of your foot, pressing into the tender muscle with the pads of his thumbs.

Your eyelids flutter from the sheer pleasure of such a simple movement.

Just as you’d hoped that maybe he’d continue tending to the weary soles of your feet, Caleb freezes.

His hands remain where they are, but his eyes drop to your lap to avoid yours.

Something feels… off.

Like there’s something on the tip of his tongue — something maybe lingering on yours as well — but the silence engulfs the telepathic conversation warring in your minds.

So you break it, skirting past the tension.

“This is the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had,” you admit under your breath, earnest and appreciative.

Caleb’s chin lifts without hesitation this time, his violet eyes wider.

The muscles in his cheeks twitch, suppressing a smile before it can fully surface, before speaking just as softly.

“Your only — hopefully.”

“Not my only, no.”

When his face falls, you cheekily follow up with a growing smile of your own.

“Technically you used to always be my Valentine, back in the day, so I've had Valentine's Days to remember before. Don’t think I forgot the baskets you used to make up for me so easily.”

It takes a second, but life eventually returns to his face in screaming color.

If the room wasn’t so dark, you’d swear the man kneeling before you was blushing.

“Damn, you remember those crappy things?”

“Do you seriously think I’d forget my after school Valentine’s Day baskets, Caleb? Really?”

“It’s been a while,” he argues, letting go of your foot to rest both palms on the ruffled sheets on either side of your hips. “We were just kids.”

“Yeah, but it meant something.”

Just like tonight.

Caleb has always gone above and beyond for your comfort.

(Your praise.)

Always putting your needs before his; always sorting out solutions that benefit you the most; always coming in last for eating, for sleeping, for taking showers, for…

Everything.

Even tonight, so long as it means it makes you happy.

Yet even if the wine loosens your secrets, you don’t expect him to confess why he spent so much of his waking hours catering to you and you alone.

(Square space, meet circular abyss.)

His eyes crinkle as he smiles up at you, admiring what sits in front of him.

The look makes your stomach somersault, heart yearning to reach for him — to touch the warmth of his skin and bask in an endless summer —

“You look deep in thought, pipsqueak.”

Caleb’s voice takes you from the dreamlike fantasy, short-circuiting the directive to never speak about what’s right in front you.

“You said this was a date, right?”

The question falls out of your mouth faster than intended.

Still all smiles, you note the furrow in Caleb’s brow.

“Sure, why?”

“And it was good?”

“I mean, I thought so,” he states. “We didn’t even come home with leftovers, so I can’t imagine you’re gonna tell me that you hated the restaur—”

“Don’t good dates usually end with a kiss?”

Every ounce of heat in this room vanishes in a flash.

The playful smile remains, but the intent shifts from earnest to disingenuous in a flinch. 

A mask; micro-movements in the muscles of his face show a new story about the night, one not as innocent as his knight in shining armor may have originally displayed.

You can only hope you aren’t reading between the wrong lines.

When your question isn’t met with an answer, rejection squeezes your stomach mercilessly.

You didn’t read between the lines, no — you crossed them, possibly to a degree you may never recover from.

“It’s fine,” you blurt immediately, waving your hands wildly in front of your chest. 

Caleb’s face falls in worried despair, and you find that this new onslaught of adrenaline is making you nauseous.

“Wait—”

“Forget I said that. Whoops, the wine—”

“Hey, no, don’t hide from me.”

Before you can press your palm to your forehead, those same warm hands curl around your fingers to tug it down. 

“C’mon.”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

Stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid—

In an attempt to create some distance, you push yourself back onto your bed and swing your bare feet out of Caleb’s orbit, side-stepping him completely.

Standing to take to a pace, you don’t have the willpower to ask him to leave.

“It’s fine, seriously. Thank you for the nice night,” you keep going, trying to talk yourself out of the panic you feel eroding your belly.

Crying would just make this worse.

“Pipsqueak, don’t.”

“You said you had an early morning, right?”

Finally turning to face him, his image is watery at best.

You blink as fast as you can to eliminate the tears brewing in your eyes, but they seem to be working faster.

Caleb’s eyes grow impossibly wide at the sight of your struggles, as though your confliction hurts his very goddamn soul.

His long legs take one stride, another, a final until his large hands imprison your face to stare right into his.

You realize too late that he’s leaning in.

Dipping down.

—and a pause.

What was once covered in ice is thawed, and soon the warmth — the heat — of the most important man of your life returns. 

Those violet eyes stare down at your nose, dipping lower, cursed to stall.

You don’t move.

Couldn’t, not when your lungs have seized with confusion; anticipation.

“Tell me not to.”

His voice doesn’t sound the same — once cocky and confident, walking through life with everyone adoring his Midas touch, now withers and dies as a broken plea.

His breath mixes with yours.

You can still smell the red wine on his tongue.

“...Caleb?”

The pinkish flecks of his eyes flicker when he raises his attention.

In the dim light of the window, he looks boyish here.

Scared.

“Tell me not to,” he weakly repeats. “Just tell me not to and I won’t.”

Oh.

Now you’re the one at a loss for words.

“If you didn’t mean to ask,” he clarifies, tone trembling, “if you want to rewind to five minutes ago, then I’ll go to my room. I’ll leave in the morning, but if you —”

Stopping himself, the man looks physically pained when his eyes close, inhaling slowly as if to settle his budding nerves.

The tension in his jaw bubbles, clenches, until he exhales through his nose as steadily as he can.

“But if you say yes, I won’t be—” 

“Please?”

The word — the request, the plea — escapes faster than intended.

So does Caleb’s restraint.

Both hands holding your face drag you forward, your bare feet sliding along the floor, until you feel a gentle pressure on your lips.

Your hands grab the front of his uniform, balling the fabric between your fists as you decidedly press back.

His makes a noise of surprise against your mouth, melting into the reciprocation.

You notice as you both exhale, parting for only a moment before pressing lips against lips once more, that his hands are shaking.

Maybe you’re shaking, too.

Because it should feel wrong. Every time you’ve fantasized about being the girl he takes to a formal, the woman his eyes linger on for too long from across the bar, you’ve been struck with the immense shame in the back of your mind. 

Wrong, like he was ever truly blood.

Wrong, like the fates laughed in the face of undeniable desire.

Wrong, like you would ever love anyone more than Caleb. 

Nothing has ever felt more right.

All you can focus on is the way he smells, like woodsy cologne and red wine; the way he touches you so preciously, his thumb absently running along your cheekbone the longer you kiss in the middle of your bedroom; the way he sounds with every press and pull, gutted with pure arousal and want.

Your name, fluttering against his tongue, before it glides along your lower lip.

You don’t deny him.

He groans as if your refusal to stop could ruin him, but there is a sharp inhale before a chill passes against your glistening lips.

Caleb pulls away to find a purchase of air, violet eyes as dark as deepspace while regarding the haze of affection he’s met by your fluttering eyes. 

“Hey.”

The greeting is shy.

Small.

Swallowing to coat your dry throat, you weakly reply. “Hey.”

“You good?” he murmurs, petting the crown of your head affectionately.

A dam has broken — for the next few minutes, you have Caleb at his most raw.

Gone is the guarded expression you’ve learned to live with, replaced with radiating affection.

Despite yourself, you nod.

“Should I ask where you learned to kiss like that?”

He huffs, shaking his head. “I didn’t.”

Wait.

Your expression smooths with recognition. “What do you mean—?”

A smile, euphoric and unabashed, breaks out.

“What, you think I’m busy kissing aliens or something when I’m out flying?”

Scorned by his playfulness, you bump your fist against his broad chest.

“Caleb.”

“What?” he teases. “You asked — but, ah… no. That was—”

His brow knits for a moment, a blush creeping up his neck to his ears.

“My best effort at my first. Why, couldn’t tell?”

You.

His first kiss happened with you.

Your lips tingle with the shock — the sheer satisfaction — of holding that title.

“Don’t go back to your room tonight,” you softly state instead, reaching for his hand to squeeze it. The blush on his face only intensifies, so you let out a tiny scoff. “To cuddle, genius. I’m not looking to check off all of the boxes in one night.”

Caleb makes a tsk sound with his tongue before tilting his head.

“Preserving my honor, I see.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

Even if you’ve gone past the point of no return—-

Even if you’re crossed the line—

Somehow he’s still Caleb, and you’re still you.

You thought that if one day you both took the impossible, forbidden leap of faith, that it would destroy the very foundation of what you’ve been since you were children.

Yet it feels like it was meant to always be this way — as if it’s as catastrophic as a rogue breeze on a summer night.

Taking his hand, you pull him back to your bed. 

As you slide onto the mattress to get comfortable, Caleb shrugs out of his uniform jacket, leaving him in a white tee.

He crawls alongside you the way he used to during thunderstorms, scooping you close to his chest while his heavy arm settles around your waist.

Protective.

You settle against him just as you always have, eyes closed.

Only the feel of his heart racing against your back remains.

For a moment you both lay here, basking in what’s happened — what will never be the same — before his voice murmurs against your neck.

“If you ever wanted to check off all of the boxes—”

His nose nuzzles your skin, humming at its scent.

“—they’ve always been yours to take.”

.

author's note: caleb gripped me tight and raised me from season depression perdition and i owe him my life (dramatic but true). this is my first ever lads fic despite being a week one player so tysm for reading !! i hope to write more in the very near future. happy valentine's day, tumblr friends. xoxo amy

[silksongeveryday]

Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 731.

Well, after two long years of posting, I’m finally taking a break.

Thank you guys for everything for the past two years. It’s genuinely been so fun making daily doodles. But all good things must come to an end eventually. I’m tired.

What are the plans moving forward?

read below the cut if you’d like to know!!

Taking a break:

Life in general has been really rough lately. Tons of family drama, personal medical issues making it impossible to function some days, and my childhood dog recently passed away a few days after Christmas last year. So it was a real challenge to “keep up appearances” if you know what I mean.

I’ve said this plenty of times in the past already, however I’ll repeat it since there’s surprisingly a lot more new people that have followed since then. I’m taking a whole month off from posting entirely. So I won’t be active on Silksongeveryday until about March 14th. Why? Hopefully it’s obvious but posting daily content for two years straight really does something to you. I’ve grown tired of this blog just a little bit, and I feel stepping away from it for a month will help me reconnect. I still love the game and its community, and I’d hate for my disinterest in a single blog to ruin that. If a month long break could fix that then so be it.

I’m also taking a somewhat indefinite break from daily doodles. I WILL still be posting doodles occasionally every once in a while after I come back from my month long break. However I won’t be doing daily doodles.

So no daily doodles ever again?

There is only one condition that has to be met for me to return to daily doodles.

A Silksong release date is announced.

Which is…let’s face it, a release date might not happen any time soon. 6 years of near radio silence from TC? I’m not expecting much, especially not in a month.

But WHEN a release date is announced I’ll definitely return to daily doodles and do a sort of daily “countdown” until Silksong is officially out.

Will doodle requests still be open?

Yes! Even if I will no longer be doing daily posts I will still occasionally post every once in a while with doodles! So if there’s a specific doodle you’d like to request and you have an extra $1 hanging around, hornet doodle requests are open on my ko-fi!!

What about the current projects that were happening on Silksongeveryday?

I’m still working on them! Just as mentioned before, a lot of stuff happened irl so it’s kind of on the back burner.

For the Hornet Journal Series: I plan to post the remaining entries after I come back from my month long break. Whether I work on them during that month long break totally depends on how I’m feeling. But there may be a likely chance I work on a few here and there on my own time! But regardless, I do plan to finish this project. So no worries!

For Hornet’s Strange adventures: I know it’s been ages since this particular project finished on the blog. Development for the free game is slow going since I’m working on this project entirely by myself with a game engine I’ve never used before. Progress is being made but it’s unfortunately slow thanks for irl conflicts. But, just like the journal series, I do plan to finish this project so I promise it won’t be abandoned!! I just need a break first lol.

___________

I think that’s all I have to say?? But if anyone has any questions, asks are always open and I’m more than happy to answer just about anything!

Thanks again for the wonderful experience, it’s been an amazing journey with you guys <3

See you all in a month!!

[lilianne-tarot]

PICK-A-CARD: What's your lowkey powerful move? ˚୨୧⋆.˚

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

I. II. III.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

Hey there! Welcome to another PAC reading on my blog page—I hope you all enjoy it! Comment down what you felt about the reading and if it resonated with you and show some love, Your support means everything to me!<3 How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images below. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you—go ahead and read both!

get your own personalized paid reading here! it would really help me out!😊🦋

My KO-FI link: HERE! 🫶🏻

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

⋆˙⟡Pile I

Ohhh, bestie, this spread is JUICY. I can already feel the energy radiating off these cards. So, the Ace of Pentacles is giving “I walk in, and the room shifts” vibes, maybe some of yall even feel that thing. people see you as someone who knows how to manifest real, concrete results. You give off that effortless “I make things happen” energy, and the wild part? Half the time, you don’t even have to announce it. You just move in silence, and suddenly, things start aligning in your favor. It’s like you have a golden touch, and people feel that. Now, here’s where it gets interesting—because the Magician reversed is shaking things up. Normally, the Magician is that “I have all the tools, I can do anything” card, but reversed? This is the art of the illusion. You have this insane ability to make things look effortless when, in reality, there’s a whole strategy behind it. nobody ever fully understands how you do it. Are you lucky? Are you secretly a mastermind? Do you have some divine favor that keeps you ahead? (👀 Spoiler alert: it’s all of the above.) this spread overall screams natural-born leader—you don’t even have to try to command attention, you just do, some of yall have held some major leader position in their lives, maybe in school or in now in your work space. What keeps people thinking about you? It’s the way you exude confidence in a way that’s not cocky, but magnetic. You have presence. You don’t need to brag, you don’t need to prove yourself, and you definitely don’t need outside validation. yall seem to be really secure in yourselves. but I would def say, Some people may even wonder if you’re manipulative, or if you’ve got some sort of secret advantage. People admire you, but they also lowkey fear you—because not everyone can handle someone who just moves differently.

This is the kind of energy that leaves ex-friends and past situationships wondering if they fumbled the bag . So keep doing what you’re doing, because this is powerful energy. Now tell me, does this reading not scream “you”? Because I feel like I just exposed your entire aura rn. 😂🔥

Liked the reading? get your own personalized paid reading here!

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

⋆˙⟡Pile II

first of all i was so shocked when I saw all cards of this deck was cups. we’re not just talking about leaving a cute impression on people. This is some straight-up, ‘I met them once, and now they live rent-free in my head’ type of impact. Let’s break it down. Your Vibe? Ethereal, Emotionally Addictive, Unforgettable. Look, not everyone has the ability to make people feel something so intensely that they’re out here journaling about it six months later, you're that airport crush of people 😭.You are that person. The Knight of Cups, Queen of Cups, and Six of Cups together? Ohhh, this is emotional witchcraft. You have this almost cinematic energy—people don’t just remember you, they replay you like their favourite movie scene. It’s like you’re the embodiment of a nostalgic song that makes them stare out of the window like they’re in a music video. You’re not trying to be unforgettable—you just are. People feel safe with you, seen by you, and understood by you. And that?? That’s rare as hell in a world full of surface-level interactions(cmon we all what a pile 2 person in our life) . This also tells me your impact isn’t just strong—it’s lasting. People don’t move on from you quickly. Even if they don’t see you for years, something will trigger a memory of you (a song, a scent, a random moment), and suddenly, boom—there you are, sitting pretty in their mind like you never left.

people always remember you anyway. It’s not about being the loudest in the room—it’s about how deeply you made them feel something. And let’s be real: people forget words, but they never forget emotions. You might not even realize the weight of your presence until years later, when someone confesses, “You changed my life and didn’t even know it.”

So yeah, your power move? You leave emotional fingerprints on people’s souls. And the gag is? You don’t even have to try. 🤷‍♀️

Liked the reading? get your own personalized paid reading here!

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

⋆˙⟡Pile III

They’re screaming depth, and an almost frustratingly intriguing energy. Like, people think they know you, but then you do or say something that makes them go, “Wait… who are you, actually?” And that question? That is why people cannot get you out of their heads.

Let’s talk about The Hanged Man sitting right in the middle—because that’s the core of your vibe. You don’t operate on the same wavelength as everyone else. Your energy is like when you’re watching a thriller, and the main character does something weird, and you just know there's a deeper reason, but you won’t find out until the end. You have this eerie, compelling stillness that makes people want to decode you. Then we have The Moon along with the hanged man, which? Chef’s kiss—because now we’re getting into that dreamy, slightly chaotic, almost unreal quality about you. You give people just enough to feel like they’re getting closer to understanding you… only for them to realize they have no idea what’s real and what’s projection. People get lost in their own assumptions about you. They see what they want to see, not necessarily who you actually are. (💀 Tell me why this feels like exactly the kind of energy that makes exes spiral at 3 AM, trying to figure out why they still don’t understand you.)You don’t need to flex your growth because by the time people catch on, you’re already five steps ahead. There’s something almost intimidating about how quietly powerful you are. Like, you might not even realize how often people compare themselves to you. You make people feel like they need to level up—but they’ll never admit you were their motivation.

Listen, you’re not just memorable—you’re the unresolved mystery in someone’s story. The “what if,” the “I never quite figured them out,” the “damn, I wish I could talk to them one more time.” People replay their interactions with you because they feel like they missed something. You don’t just linger in their mind—you haunt it. And the best part? You don’t even try. You don’t have to force an impact, you don’t need attention—you just exist in a way that makes people feel like they almost got close to understanding you… but never fully did. And that? That’s the kind of unforgettable energy that lives rent-free in people's minds forever.

Liked the reading? get your own personalized paid reading here!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Thank you so much for reading all the way through! I hope my reading resonated with you and that you had a lovely time going through it. If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog—it really means a lot! Let me know which pile you chose; I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and feedback on my readings! ♡

Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not predict the future in a fixed way. this is a general reading so take what resonates!

[regina-bithyniae]

Finding this viewpoint very odd. I've never had trouble remembering to have fun. Between my hobbies, creative pursuits, reading, exercise, etc, the problem has only ever been having less time than I'd like.

Reminded me of this. As far as my free time goes, pretty much everything I do is meaningful.

Once saw someone reviewing a gacha game saying, "It's a great time waster! Five stars." But I can't relate at all to wasting time

what they dont tell you about adulthood is that it’s startlingly easy to go long periods of time without having any fun at all not even a little bit. btw this causes ur brain to try to kill you with knives and hammers.

[shy-writer-999]

How many dreams to say "I love you"? (iii)

Summary: Zoro hasn't been able to stop having dreams about you, his best friend and crewmate. When he goes a few days without one, he thinks he's in the clear. Surely, realizing that he's in love with you is enough to make the dreams stop entirely, right? Right?

Part 3 of 4. ~3.6k words. (read part 1 here!) CW: Equal parts smut and plot. Afab reader w/gendered language (she/her pronouns). Sex! Love-making! Mentions of death, danger, and blood. NSFW content - minors stay away!

Part 3: Scattered polaroids.

Zoro had three whole nights of solace after he realized he was in love with you—three nights of no dreams, three nights of long and restful sleep.

After the third night, he was under the impression that the dreams had ceased entirely. The realization that he loved you was the cure for his sickness, he told himself. Now, he could pine after you from afar during the day and sleep peacefully, minding his business at night.

He did just that. For those three days, during his waking hours, he tried to calculate how to get closer to you. He put together nonsensical equations in his mind over how, why, and for how long he had been in love—he could, and would, keep doing this all day until he returned to his bed, savoring each smile from you.

Evidently, the conversation he overheard between you and Nami was the catalyst for the chain reaction of psychological warfare he had withstood for over a week—the end result was a euphoric crescendo of emotions, his realization that he was capable of romantic love and that his heart had been screaming for attention for months.

But what was there to do about it?

More importantly, did you feel the same?

Zoro needed to find out. He wanted to get to the bottom of everything—the conversation, who you had been talking about, why you were having a hard time being lonely around them, and how you felt about him.

While the swordsman did the mental math of what that discussion may look like between the two of you, he felt sick. He had fought dangerous foes of every kind and been on the verge of death many times before, but nothing ever gave him nerves like this.

If you had feelings for someone, would you tell them? He wondered about you, the sorts of decisions you made, how you would act and feel. If he got to the bottom of this situation and discovered that you had feelings for someone other than him, would he be able to cope with the jealousy?

Jealousy.

The emotion started to seethe when he thought about someone other than himself being with you. It boiled inside when he watched Sanji fawn over you, touch the small of your back, and whisper compliments in your ear. Every bashful smile and flutter of your eyelashes in Sanji’s direction twisted some dial inside of Zoro. Too many twists would prove troublesome. Explosive, even.

He knew that that this emotion, envy, had been there for ages before he recognized how he felt about you. It didn’t feel good, and he knew it was unhealthy. Various images and memories flashed through his mind as he recalled instances in which he felt this same burning envy frequently coupled with a fierce desire to protect you.

Zoro tried to comfort himself with the knowledge of what sort of person you were—if you had a problem with Sanji, or with any other person, you would have said something, no? He was certain that you wouldn’t hesitate to stand your ground.

But that thought was less of a comfort than he initially thought it would be, because you hadn’t ever reprimanded the blonde for his advances (that Zoro knew of), but you did shoo him away sometimes. Your smile felt restrained and reserved whenever it was sent in Sanji’s direction. It looked different than the smiles you gave Zoro.

Well, there was no point in getting himself worked up over the dynamic in question. Nothing would change, probably, unless he did something about it.

It had been a while since you and Zoro last spent time together, one on one. And he thought you had been a bit quieter than usual, recently, so… might as well catch up. Maybe spending some time with you would soothe his heart—it felt like it was aching any time you weren’t around, and when you were around it felt like it was on fire. He didn’t know how to cope other than find ways and excuses to spend time with you.

His solution was… lunch. Practical, at the very least, if not the most effective.

On the morning after his third night of restful sleep, Zoro asked you if you’d like to have lunch with him under one of the trees on the deck of the Sunny. This was nothing too out of the ordinary. He grabbed food, some drinks and some napkins and brought them out to you.

When Zoro handed you your plate, you smiled up at him from where you sat and he felt like he would pass out. He had absolutely no clue how to handle this recently unlocked feeling—the feeling of love—and he was trying to act as normal as possible. He was, all things considered, succeeding. 

He didn’t have much trouble acting ‘normal,’ per say. He was simply hyperaware of how beautiful you were, how fast his heartbeat was, and how blisteringly intense your eye contact was. He had noticed inklings of this before, but he was reminded, strongly. Every moment that your eyes met his, his heart fluttered. He was trying not to blush. It felt very out of character.

“How have you been recently?” Zoro tried to start the conversation casually.

“I’m fine,” you responded with a smile, like usual. “The same as ever. What about you?”

Zoro wondered if that was worth pressing you on, since you seemed a bit sad, or distant, or something along those lines. He decided it was worth it. Ignoring your question to him, he followed up.

“You sure you’re fine? You’ve been a bit quiet recently.”

You tried to brush it off. You had been quieter recently, and for good reason. You thought he didn’t know the reason, but he did. At least, he knew the bare bones of it. Something along the lines of feeling lonely.

“Ah, yeah. I guess I have been a bit down recently.” You responded, trying to hold your smile and pretend like your heart wasn’t crying inside. He studied your face closely, and you could tell.

“Why’s that?”

You had a brief internal battle over whether or not you would be candid with him, but you didn’t have it in you that day and the scenery wasn’t anywhere near private enough. You lied. “No reason, really. I’m not quite sure why.”

“If you ever want to talk about it, let me know.” Zoro smiled sweeter than you had ever seen and then dropped the subject. His smile was uncharacteristically sweet. Heart-stoppingly sweet. Painfully sweet. It was like a dagger.

You told him thanks and the conversation moved on. As a whole, lunch was enjoyable. Afterwards, you both felt significantly more at ease. To spend time together always brought your respective spirits up. It was a great dynamic—no wonder Zoro was in love with you.

Zoro told himself that he should just keep checking on you and go even more out of his way to spend time with you. He’d double down. Maybe it was lunch today, and then tomorrow it could be dinner. And after that, he’d ask you to watch the sunset with him in the crow’s nest. Or would he whisk you away and confess his feelings in his cabin? He was scrambled in the head, confused by that classic paradox of choice, where there are so many options that you’re incapable of choosing one. Was it even the right call to tell you how he felt? Would it screw everything up?

“Oh, Zoro?” Your voice stopped him in his tracks down the hallway after lunch. “Want to have some drinks tomorrow night? It’s been a minute since we caught up. You stood me up last time, remember?”

You were joking, but it was true. Last time Zoro asked you to have some drinks with him after a hard training session he completely forgot and fell asleep. You both laughed about it afterwards, and you used it to poke fun at him sometimes.

He agreed. "Yeah, drinks tomorrow night. I promise."

That was one problem solved.

DREAM 10: Un-solved

That night Zoro dreamed about you. It broke up that momentary peace he had of three nights with no dreams—it seems the internal turmoil of the day was enough to evoke a vivid and striking dream, unlike any others he had before.

Zoro found himself in a dimly lit bedroom lying on a big bed. The sheets and blankets were smooth and plushy. He could hear someone breathing next to him and he knew that you were there.

Turning his head, he saw that you were lying on your side facing away from him, completely nude, hair sitting perfectly on a silk pillowcase. The sheets were pulled down, so he could see your whole silhouette. In the dream, Zoro could feel himself compelled by something, reaching out a hand to pull you closer to him so your bodies were flush.

He smelled your hair, felt how soft your skin was, and ran a rough hand up and down the side of your body, trying to memorize every inch. He ran a palm over your hips and down your thighs, felt your back, shoulders, and waist; he was drinking up every second that his hands wandered over your skin, like your body was an oasis and he was dying of thirst.

You let out an indistinct noise. He couldn’t hear it well enough. It sounded like a sigh. As his hands moved, you stirred, turning your shoulder into his, giving him more access.

The faint sound trickled out of your mouth again, this time audible. Your voice sounded sleepy, sweet and faint. “Zoro.” He could feel his heart trip when his name fell from your lips.

Your hand groped back to grip his thigh and you whispered his name again. “Zoro. More.”

He snuck his hand from your hip to your front, starting to knead and cup your breasts. His fingers elicited another hushed entreaty from your lips. “Zoro. More.”

Suddenly aware of his hard-on pressing on you, his hand lingered on your chest and he began to kiss you. He started with you shoulder blade, marking a trail of kisses up to your neck, taking in deep breaths of your hair and skin. His kisses were soft and loving, coaxing more pleasant sighs from you.

He wanted to taste every inch of you, to draw out those sounds and muffled noises that he was starting to become acquainted with (at least, in his dreams).

Zoro lavished your skin with affection and care for a few moments, and you said his name again. Every time you said his name, it felt like every nerve in his body buzzed.

“Zoro. I need you.”

The dream fogged up and transformed. He was leaning over you from between your legs, missionary style. You were looking up at him, eyes pleading, hair ruffled just right.

Zoro’s erection was positioned right at your entrance, precum beading and pooling around his red, angry tip. The scene was vivid—his mind replicated every facet of what this would look and feel like in real life, down to each atom of detail. It was absurd.

He gawked at you, eyes jumping between your needy face and pouting lips and your glistening core. One of his hands was stroking his shaft leisurely, and the other gripped your waist.

“Please, Zoro.”

As your begging reached his ears, he slowly pressed into you, letting out a hiss of air through his teeth when he bottomed out because it felt so good. You gasped and the sound felt heavenly in his ears.

“Fuuuccckk, Zoro.”

He leaned in to kiss you, bringing a hand to cup your cheek. Your lips were still locked when he started slowly rocking his hips into yours, dragging his cock in and out of you slowly.

You felt amazing, so warm and wet around him, squeezing him perfectly. He sped up, finding the perfect pace. As his hips rolled into yours, you began to moan his name, mewling it into his mouth as he explored yours with his tongue.

Zoro reached a hand and pushed one of your thighs down, allowing for the deepest angle possible. He wanted to hit your g-spot just right; he wanted to make you feel good, wanted to see your eyes roll back in your head and hear his name as many times as possible.

The dreamscape transformed again, just slightly. He was in the same position, but your faces were centimeters away now. You were holding his cheeks in your hands, making eye contact as he thrusted into you, deep and slow.

“Zoro,” you panted. “Feels good, Zoro. You feel so fucking good.”

He could feel your legs wrap around him, could feel you grinding down on his cock, trying to fuck yourself with it deeper.

A moment later, you were holding hands, fingers entwined. You moaned his name and only his name. He could feel himself about to let go. Your eyes were entrancing.

“Zoro,” you keened, arching your back up and squeezing his hands tightly. “Tell me you love me, Zoro.”

His heart stopped again and picked up at a rapid pace; his hips did the same, moving haphazardly, stuttering and shaking. He was seconds away from cumming in you, pleasure building into one massive cliff that he was about to free fall from.

“I—love—you,” he thrusted between each labored breath and grunt. The words tumbled out of his mouth and on the last one he orgasmed. He reeled with ecstasy, convulsing in pleasure as his cum painted the inside of you a hot, milky white.

Zoro collapsed on your chest panting. One of your hands traced circles on his back and the other petted his head, which rested in the crook of your neck. You cooed “good job baby” in his ear and kissed his shoulder.

He woke up, and even though he wasn’t shaking or sweating this time, he felt extremely unwell. It took him a moment to realize that he came all over the inside of his underwear while he was asleep. While his return to consciousness was gentler this time in comparison to his other dreams, he was still disturbed. It was a scarily realistic and wildly intimate dream.

He tried to get his thoughts in order. There was no point in feeling any shame here, he told himself, because you didn’t dream about that on purpose. But really, what the fuck was going on? A wet dream? How long had it been since he had one of these?

The frustration he felt upon waking was agonizing. Three whole days and nights of a clear head. He thought that since he realized he loved you, the dreams had stopped—the realization of his feelings had been the cure to his lovesickness, after all.

Evidently, he was wrong. One intense dream snapped Zoro back into the insanity he had lived in for a week. He felt like he was going to go crazy.

Wasn’t the realization that he loved you enough to make the dreams stop? If that wasn’t enough, then what would be?

Did he have to do something about it?

Fuck.

He really had to do something about it. Perhaps he’d do something about it when he had drinks with you.

But those promised drinks never came.

The next day, the Strawhat crew ran into a hostile pirate group. The skirmish lasted a handful of hours. Lucky for the crew, there were no truly formidable opponents, but it still ended up being a pain in the ass. The crew got separated, and Zoro got lost and left behind—an experience he was well familiar with.

Finally making his way back to where the ship was docked, after hours of wandering around aimlessly on the island and defeating some random mid-tier power user, Zoro returned to the ship. He was met with a startling sight.

The Sunny was ransacked. On first impression, the crew was nowhere to be found. Your absence was starting to agitate him more than usual when he realized the ship was most likely empty. His latent realization of his love was certainly contributing to that.

As the swordsman explored the ship and went room to room, his distress mounted.

There were blood splatters on the walls of some of the hallways—a pattern that looked like someone, gravely injured, was dragging themselves around the ship. In addition, it looked like every inch of the ship had been turned inside out. The kitchen was a mess, pots and pans everywhere, and even the chairs and table were flipped over at odd angles.

In a rising panic, he dragged himself to your room. He was sure it wasn’t you who was injured and struggling, but… what if it was? Might as well check.

As he suspected, your cabin was plundered and empty, too. His heartbeat was through the roof, his vision started to go red in agitation.

Where were you?

In your room, the pirates rifled to their hearts’ content, searching for money, treasure, whatever they could get their greedy hands on.

Your mattress had been ripped off the bed. The drawers on your desk were pulled out and emptied, the sparse contents littered around the floor. Your closet was ravaged, too. Clothes were in piles and tatters on the floor. Your lamp was knocked over, and the bulb was shattered.

Geez, what the fuck were they doing in here? Zoro wondered. He took in the view for a brief second, noting that you weren’t here, and that he needed to move on. If the crew was in a tight spot right now he ought to go help them out instead of dawdling around on the ship in a frenzy searching for you.

Maybe you were with Luffy or the shit cook—maybe you had your snail, maybe he could call you and check if you were okay.

He had only felt this level of panic a couple times in his life so far. A thought cut through his worry—what if I lose her? What if I lose her before I’ve said anything?

He felt like he was sinking. His vision started to tunnel, his hand jumped to rest on one of his swords, getting ready to cut someone down at a moment’s notice. As he turned to leave your room, a lightning bolt of clarity struck him. Scattered across the floor carelessly was a messy tornado of polaroid photos.

Your camera was crushed to bits in a corner, but the photos, which you’d been taking for ages at this point, had been torn from their little box in your closet and thrown everywhere.

Most of the photos, he realized, were of him. His heart panged. He had never seen this many photos of himself in one spot. His memories with the crew slipped through his fingers every day as they happened, but when recorded and hoarded like this he noticed how happy he looked in the photos. Was it because you were taking them?

When did that light start coming into his eyes?

His stomach flipped. You weren’t here. Your room was destroyed. You were in danger.

In a panic, Zoro pocketed a handful of them and darted out of the room. He hurriedly checked the rest of the ship—completely empty, ransacked and pillaged. Luckily, the pirates didn’t find Nami’s stash. But aside from that, almost no corner of the ship was left untouched.

His heart started to feel like it was seizing—if he didn’t find you fast, he was going to snap.

Would the photos you took of him be the only relic of your shared moments of happiness?

He ran onto the deck, out of breath and sweating, and looked at the shore. Time froze.

A wave of relief crashed over Zoro as he took in the sight—the crew was now strewn around the beach. Some were laying on their backs in exhaustion from the battle, others were huddled up, talking, and still, some were injured, getting briefly triaged by Chopper. Nothing looked too serious. His eyes darted around, searching for you.

You were standing next to Luffy, holding your side and wincing. A pool of blood saturated your shirt, radiating outwards from where you pressed your palm to stop the flow of blood.

You were alive. Injured, yes, but alive. He released the tension in his body and a preliminary feeling of relief coursed through him.

It seems like Zoro had forgotten that life on the seas wasn’t just sunshine, lunches on deck, pining, and exploration. Death and danger were key elements of the whole experience.

Not only had he been lacking on his training, but he was lacking on being an attentive and good friend to you, let alone a crew mate that could protect you. In the lapse and haze he had been in for the past couple weeks, he had let his guard down somehow.

Ever hard on himself, Zoro had a ‘come to Jesus’ moment. He needed to sort shit out with you, fast. He didn’t want to have any regrets. He couldn’t lose someone that he loved again.

Taking deep breaths and internally cursing himself out, Zoro made his way down the gangplank and onto the beach. He decided that when the ship was cleaned up, and everyone was bandaged and fed, he would confess.

This love was festering in him. It had festered for far too long before forcing him to acknowledge it. He couldn’t cope anymore. The next chance he got, he would tell you how he felt, no matter what.

< previous part | masterlist | next part >

taglist: @riftmage27 @eggrollforyou @imhwajaez @wiyenspanel @xxmysticxxx @moonmaiden1996 @chibinasu @theilluminatidragonqueen @becca-oak @my-name-is-heartache @the-maladaptive-daydreamers @adamwarlockislife-blog

a/n: happy valentine's day, everyone! thanks for your patience waiting for this one :) the next part won't take as long ❤️❤️

[hoseoksluna]

SCHEME | jjk

pairing: yandere!jungkook x strategy!oc

genre: smut; angst

rating: 18+

summary: due to his reasons, jungkook finds it hard to give you what you desire, but when he finally does, he discovers that your scheme is greater than he anticipated.

word count: 9.5k

pin: strategy

warnings: dark content not to be romanticized — stalking, manipulation, gaslighting, smoking, parental abuse and neglect, daddy issues, mommy issues, spanking, usage of belt, scars, dissociation, guilt, ptsd, raw sexual intercourse, oral sex (f. receiving), male masturbation, fingering, squirting, obsession, restraint, slow burn, praise kink, pet names, cum eating.

FORMAL WARNING: jeon jungkook written in this work is a figment of my imagination and does not reflect the living person and his family.

luna’s note: here’s a LONG chapter two of strategy. i worked hard on this, actually i was absolutely obsessed with this and i couldn’t stop writing. reblogs, comments and asks are very appreciated. i hope you enjoy this, my babies. posting a day early just for you bc i can’t wait for you to read this. i love you. MWAH.

𓂃 ౨ৎ

taglist | join here: @jjk7k, @tkslovechild, @euphoricmyth, @cinmmongirl, @ririkookiemonster,

@perfectiondazesworld, @https-mei, @bangtansonyeondanue, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, 

@hoseokkie-caeks, @kam9404, @fr0ggieth1nk, @parkinglot-nights, @sadgirlroo

@rrosiitas @KookieNooki @cristinamajadera @Chaelvrx @mimikoba

@junecat18 @deepops79 @notsevenwithyou @futuristicenemychaos

@psychicjellyfishalpaca @Kooloveys

The rain perseveres and the rain emboldens, assisting with its severity by murmuring to his ear the subtleties of the next move. The move that is his own, second in line, despite being incited by your sinful, sinful forcefulness. But now, now as he has you in this position and the torrent of the rain stands by to watch, Jungkook slowly begins to perceive that you did good. 

Your selfish strategy backfired. 

Not only because the discipline that awaits you will help you. Help alleviate you of your poor little bothersome horniness and carve you into the little innocent girl he met at the library, fixated on the world of her books and not forcefully pushing her way in into the realm of his passion. 

All in all, and most importantly, it shall project his love for you by diffusing your bubble butt with its rough, stingy and rosy kisses, leaving behind the imprint of his lips in the form of welts—the little puffed up slits of skin he longs to cum on as he ponders it, like the slits of the garters you’re always wearing, but somehow you’re not wearing right now. 

That has to change, and he will. He will be the pillar in obtaining everything he desires and no force will stop him. The two halves of his persona have amalgamated in completeness, creating a man that simply no longer cares about anything. The morals and the reasons that used to hold him back lost their powerful presence to such an extent that there hasn’t even been left a trace in its wake. No memory, no keepsake to bring up their reminiscence. All has dispersed into nothingness, just like his cigarette in front of your apartment building. 

It reminds him that he’s kept his headlights on under the duress of your scheme, but it’s no problem. He won’t be long; he’ll be finished with you just as quickly as he was finished with his sweet instrument of death. You’ll be wet, wilting, burning away to your origin just like it. And Jungkook can’t wait. He can’t wait to turn your scheme into his. Time beats against him and it leads his hands to fist your wrists together behind your back, propping them on your tailbone, and he doesn’t hold back. Not anymore. Not ever again. 

For the first time in his fucked up life, he feels as though the time, the cosmos and someone up beyond them, who has the ultimate power, are not against him but for him, warranting this moment, deeming it good. There’s mercifulness in it all that he senses and as much as it supports him, it softens him and mollifies him to a degree that draws out his tears. 

Maybe he is a good person, worthy of love and worthy of the fleeting feeling of goodness and peace. 

Jungkook’s vision blurs as he watches your squished face on the plush of the couch. He skims the leather of the belt down the supple bareness of your butt and doesn’t blink. Interest and perhaps curiosity cast a certain pinkish light that twinkles across your features like the stars that are too hasty to wait until the evening goes to sleep and the night enters, and it moves his heart, prods it with endearment and a question. Have you never gotten spanked before? He retraces his movement, beginning all over again, and the prodding gains intensity when your mouth parts with a soft breath of comfort. 

You have no idea what awaits you. Jungkook wonders if you’ll like it just as much. 

Without a moment to spare, he flings down the belt on the flesh he teased. And he finds that the pinkish tones root from your heart. They surge, with a violent verve, to your mien that wrinkles and tenses at the reverberating sting, deepening their hue ever so wonderfully. The prodding cuts deep and even deeper when the eyes that stared at nothing in particular flick up to his as if needing some kind of compassion and empathy, and he would give it to you, of course he would, had this been a game of playful love between you and him, and had it not been a scheme, stemming from the core of your selfishness and stubbornness. 

Instead, Jungkook spanks you again. Harder this time. 

The breath you let out is louder, accompanied by the tiniest mewl that he dislikes. He wants your sweet mewls to echo across these walls and not be so soundless, but the night is young and he’s secure in the confidence that rushes in his veins. As a matter of fact, he dwells on the feeling that brews in him—and it’s nothing like the pomegranate tea you so wrongfully drank out of his niceness, carefulness and suppression. The feeling is the richest, the floweriest and the silkiest drink of rum he ever swallowed, the kind he imagined his father downed before he struck him across his face because he had looked at him wrong. Wrong place, wrong time; wrong child, wrong soul. Jungkook can almost hear the way the elder man cursed his soul, deeming it stained, unsalvageable and sinful, and he would get lost in the potent resoundings of his memories, had you not wrapped your little fingers across the crook between his thumb and his forefinger. It weakens him, faintly, nearly worsens him, but the small touch of your neediness and delicate keenness makes him think that if he couldn’t save himself as a child, he can save you.  

He’s going to make you better because he can. Because he’s there. Because he loves you. No one ever did that for him; no one had the time, no one had the eyes to see to begin with. 

He spanks you again, but suddenly it’s him who feels the pain. As if the string that bound him to you tightened enough that it coiled him unfathomably deeper into you. Perhaps there’s no beginning and end to him alone—perhaps the end is somewhere in the garden within you, and the bunny of his love sniffles its nose, overcome with it all. Numbness pours over him like the rain perfumed him just a moment ago, and he needs to snap out of it, he needs to wake up, he needs to be present—  

His hands, controlled by the time and the cosmos, fondle the ache that must be swirling around your flesh with the lip of the leather, following its expanding, round motions. You didn’t make a sound, or at least he missed it. He deems it a regretful shame, and that’s why when he strikes again, he pours a little more roughness into it just to coax it out, just to focus better. He needs to hear it, needs it to envelop around his cock, and this time, you cry out. Your spine twitches like a seesaw, reacting to the pain that continues coursing across your butt, and when he turns his head to the flesh, he sees that it’s scarlet, bumpy and vibrating with the echoes of the pain. 

Of the abuse. 

How many times did he spank you? Was he not present at all? Was he not aware? Was he not—

The belt falls to the carpet and Jungkook, too, falls. 

The time, the cosmos, the someone. They all stood by to watch him lose himself in the principle of having the right kind of power, the one that matters the most. There was no control, no stable wall. The rum that runs down his throat is no longer silky but bitter, pangs of guilt constricting it until he can’t inhale a single morsel of air. And for that very reason, he allows himself to be carried away by the softness he never let out before.  

His hand lands on your abused butt that quivers under his touch until your knees give away and the bottom half of your body plops down onto the couch. The same hand lifts you back up and keeps you in place, keeps your frailness in their hold. 

His mind spins in a tornado of self-deprecating thoughts and shards of a broken mirror that reflect the face of his father. 

His eyes exude tears that he can only forbid you from seeing, and not forbid from flowing. 

His mouth draws close to the place between your legs, where his apology can take effect, but not before they form the words he’s never spoken out before. 

“I’m sorry.” 

The letters sound as strange to his ears as they do to yours. He wanted this, he wanted to discipline you, but his fatherliness disappeared under the layer of his own father: under the layer of his trauma. He didn’t see this coming. Nothing went according to his feverish calculations and he feels so bad that the guilt itself is a disaster. 

Disaster collapsing over this world; the rain halts, silence closing over the streets of Seoul. 

Your red skin is hot to the touch and Jungkook fades away into the little boy version of him, who placed his hand on the hot, red cheek of his own weeping mother. The little boy who discovered, for the first time, the feeling of a skin not his own, marred by something that he also had experienced. It connected him to his mother, the bond growing roots that expand over those any other mothers and sons have, but his mother, despite the greatness of her love, never had the strength to reciprocate anymore. 

Jungkook needs to know if you've become her in the same way he’s become his father. 

The warm wetness of his tears spurting down his cheeks feels right as he draws near and smears them between the private skin between your sensitive flesh. He lets out a hard breath, the sensation of his tears perhaps washing away the sin he committed consuming him whole, and as he wraps his lips around your little clit, there’s purity in it that he never expected to come across. 

Your noises flow out. The more he takes your bud into his mouth, the more those tiny mewls he loves so much transform into full moans, those of angels. You grip him harder, pushing your butt into his face, mimicking the dance of waves he always longed to see. Perceiving that you’re liking the motions of his mouth, he allows himself to enjoy it, seizing your little clit with more enthusiasm and power, his tongue joining in and inciting your dance to quicken. 

And then, his name descends into the stream of your noises, and he’s done for. 

His attention topples to his straining cock, your enjoyment making the sin and the evil dissolve under its vivacity until there’s nothing but it sailing through the atmosphere. His tears are forgotten, replaced by the essence of your pleasure as he licks you all over, unable to swallow it whole due to its overwhelming amount. His wrongdoing dissipates and instead his rightdoing dominates, fixing everything he caused. Your delight and your saccharine taste makes him a better man, or at least he thinks so, and he desires for your orgasm to transform him into someone who won’t make the same mistake.

He no longer wants to be the amalgamation of the yin and yang, the grayness that magnetically pulled his hand to his belt, that stringed the thoughts and the will to discipline you. 

He yearns to be a man, devoid of any resemblance to his father. A well, brimming with love. 

He hasn’t felt the touch of the sun and the rainwater in years, having been dried up with nothing to give. But now as he drinks you, he hopes that changes. He hopes your essence fills him up to the brim so that this never happens again. 

And because of that, Jungkook puts a little more pressure into the flicking motion of his tongue upon your clit, which has become more swollen the more he sucked it. And ultimately, he dips into the obsession of this determination. 

He turns you around, not hearing the way you hushedly cry out in pain as your sensitive butt collides harshly with the plush of your couch. His hatred for his life and his tendencies deafens his ears, the effervescence of its silence piercing through his eardrum. He kneels at the couch and, leaning over your small body, he does the first right act of his entire life. 

He connects his lips to yours. And the well inside him begins to grow with vines of flowers that mirror the same rosiness that spreads across your face. The petals must have the same softness as your lips, too, and Jungkook deepens the kiss, whimpering into it because he feels the breath of life as you inhale against him. Perhaps you’re overwhelmed just the same, confused and bewildered by the twist of events, by the scarring of his hands, and he regrets it. 

He regrets the person he is. 

You prove him right, casting a light upon him that is too kind, too humane. Not something he deserves after the way he hurt you. 

“Why did you spank me?” you ask between the short interlude of heads turning and lips smacking, closing over each other all over again as if they fit together with utmost perfection—a place of home within that interlock. 

Jungkook loses all oxygen in his lungs and all words in his mouth. They come, however, by some miracle, through his features. His brows and mouth curl downwards and he lets you feel it, lets you attach the vocabulary to them by laying his face against you—just for a moment before your eyes see. Your dark, dark eyes that have so much gentleness in them. 

He’s not sure he’s deserving of it. Not after what he’s done to you. 

“Let me make you come,” he whispers, placing one final chaste kiss against your puffy lips, the chastest he’s capable of. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? And it’s what you deserve.” 

It’s surreal, the sudden words that streamed out. And how right they feel, how pure, how precious. A ball of energy vibrates in the middle of his chest, all rabid and ardent. He curves into a little boy who wants to please his parent as he reaches down to your lap, but you stop him by grabbing his shoulder. 

“What I want for you to tell me is the reason why you spanked me,” you demand, raking your fingers through the hair at the back of his head, your thumb tracing circles on the place upon his cheek right beside his ear, and time stops. 

That is precisely the way his mother would touch him. 

The cosmos lean down and stack themselves upon his shoulders. If he were Atlas, he’d be strong enough to carry it. Perhaps even stand and show off his grand ability to withstand it all. But he’s not Atlas. As much as he’s condemned by life, by some other power that doesn’t like him, he’s not a Titan. He’s not a man by any chance either. 

He’s a lost boy. A wandering boy who very often fails at everything he does— and who now needs to explain his foolish failure. 

His eyes wet. His arms on either side of you quiver under all that pressure, but he holds those tears back. The little strength he has left consoles him in a way, helps him formulate the words of the language he thinks is so foreign to him. 

Truth. 

“You made me give you something I wasn’t ready to give you yet,” he mutters, the fervor of his tears heightening, threatening to escape. It courses through his veins, stabilizes his arms and the back of his neck and Jungkook uses its strength to gaze at you. To gaze at your reaction. To drink from it and use it to refresh the empty well in him. 

But the question wrung across your face merely tightens his heart, and he remains depleted. Through and through. vacant. 

Though something unknown in him, possibly summoned up by the agile bunny in him, stretches out his arm and makes it so he touches your puzzlement. His thumb brushes across your cheek, still so prettily reddened by his creation. Travels all the way to your mouth that he kissed so hungrily, and pines to do it all over again. Hell, spend the entire night bruising it—no, not bruising it, making love to it until it’s all he knows, until it’s all he consists of. Your mouth, your words, your intellect. And as you speak into his hand, all he can think about is how he’s nothing without you, and, curiously, his cock strains harder in his pants. Sweat sticks to his skin like a second layer. 

“Give me what?” you demand further. A spark of fire winks at him in your eyes, inviting him in, inviting him to fold himself in all entirety inside you. And he wants to, he yearns to, there’s nothing left for him to do than to be completely devoted to you, to curl in your lap like a son in a mother’s lap and be shepherded, be made right, be disciplined. 

And because of that yearning, he offers the rest of the truth in all its dimmed glory. 

“Me,” he reveals, letting out a humorless chuckle. All of his nerves swarm in a tight bundle somewhere in him, and he feels the need to smoke. So much so that he doesn’t ask if he can and does it anyway because he fears that if he doesn’t, his nerves will swallow him whole. Straightening up and rummaging in his pocket, he pulls the slender death instrument and pops it into his mouth, lighting it up. And as his mouth is shrouded in the warm light and he inhales the nicotine, your bare foot lifts and drifts down his lower abdomen, halting at his groin. He exhales the smoke, dipping his head to study your actions, and he discovers that you’ve pressed your foot right against his imprint. 

And it’s half the size of his cock. 

“Give me some of it.” 

At first, he guesses you’re talking about his dick, but when he sees the two of your fingers hovering in the air in the shape of ‘V’, it’s clear to him that you want to take a puff of his cigarette. He blushes at that, realizing that he’s never shared a cigarette with someone he loved before, and the nerves that swarmed his chest descend to his stomach. Some would call them butterflies, but the inside of his body is too dark for them. Moths… moths are the winged creatures you awakened from their eternal slumber. 

And they attack his stomach when he sinks the cigarette between your lips, brazenly and purposefully ignoring your suspended hand because he wants to feed you something of his own. And the fact it isn’t something so positive and sugary feels rewarding for some reason. 

It adds to the overall mollification. He’d also feel at peace if he didn’t love you so much. 

You envelop your lips around the yellow butt of the cigarette and begin to suck. A lungful of death—what a good girl. He doesn’t want to admit that the spanking worked because the thought alone causes a prickling ache in his heart. But as you exhale out the smoke just like him, he comprehends that he sobered up from absolutely everything. 

This is him, bare and raw. And he doesn’t know what he’s capable of. The smoke closes around his face and he breathes in, as if for the first time in his life. He wonders who he’ll become once he stuffs your drooling pussy with his cock, but he’s sure that person will be one of goodness. 

Some sort of goodness he’d never achieve to become on his own. 

The notion brings up the taste of your essence in his mind and he hungers for you again. Saliva gathers in his mouth, nearly overspills, and he wipes at his mouth briefly before he takes the last puff and exhales the smoke into your mouth. A short, devastatingly short kiss that you moan into, and moan again when he asks you an erotic question. 

“Do you think you can finish it without coughing as I eat you out?” 

He doesn’t know if you’re a regular smoker or if it’s your first time. Right now, the details don't matter. The night is long enough for that conversation. Jungkook lets the cigarette hang from your mouth as he straightens, his sin and cigarette smoke coated hands drifting down your parted thighs. He knows just the thing that will cleanse them without a doubt. 

“You don’t know me at all,” you say, jutting out your chin to the side to suck on the cigarette you’re holding with your fingers. It provokes him and, internally, he fights the possibility of you being right. He knows where you live, he knows your routine. Your mornings, afternoons and nights. Your favorite food, the fact you like to read, how truly smart you are. He knows enough. And it baffles him that he’s never seen you smoke. Not even when you were out with your friends. “Try to make me come before I finish this.” 

You part your legs. Switch the cigarette to your other hand and flick the ash into the nearby half-empty glass of water. His cock twitches at the challenge, but an anger, unlike the one he experienced prior the moment he sobered up, flares in his chest. Like a small star up in the heavens, it burns lightly. 

He doesn’t waste time. 

Jungkook lifts your hips, pulling a surprised breath out of your throat. The white vapor gyrates around your face and Jungkook can’t take his eyes off of it as he sticks out his tongue and circles your clit with its tip. A sense of achievement and pride clutches him when you roll your eyes back, and your mouth begins to open wider, only to close in a fight, resembling his, when he sucks hard. In spite of it, you give your moans freedom and essentially, you do the same for him. 

He dips to your hole because he can’t stall any longer. Whimpers at your dulcet taste, fluttering his eyes shut, though never entirely. He can’t lose sight of you. Lapping at the source, he makes sure to stimulate your clit by rubbing his nose in it. The smacking of his lips and tongue against your dripping flesh, his desperate noises, they all overlap with your own now high-pitched moans and squeaky breaths. You begin to buck your hips and Jungkook listens to your body, immersing his tongue into your heat, encouraging you to keep going and fuck yourself on him like that with little hums of agreement. And the validation—it leads you to lose yourself in the rapid current of the pleasure and forget about the challenge. 

But Jungkook didn’t forget. If there’s one thing about him that’s stable and safe against other influences, it’s his ability to never forget. 

“Smoke,” he orders, narrowing his eyes. He spits on your pussy before he sinks his tongue back inside, his mind spinning. He uses one of his hands to replace his nose on your clit, and he strums it with all the strength and speed he’s possessed with. Obsessed, utterly obsessed with the idea of not winning, but winning you over. Impressing you. 

It’s important to him. And through that, he realizes the origin of his anger. The kaleidoscope of it all tells him that he was more bothered by your lack of belief in him than the principle of the challenge itself. 

No one believes in him. Not his parents, not Taehyung… and not you. 

Jungkook reaches his hand down to your breast and through the wrinkly, soft fabric he pinches your nipple before he begins to fondle it with side to side motion, bringing out your orgasm as if it were an animal he was calling out. 

And your body listens. 

Convulsing in his hold, it submits to him through the waves of the pleasure he’s giving you. Jungkook doesn’t stop his actions, continuing them relentlessly as you ride it out. Your eyes are shut tight, your mouth letting out the most saccharine mewls, secret and private. And he lets it be that way. He could pull his mouth away and ruin your orgasm by ordering you to keep your eyes on him, but he doesn’t. The beauty of your orgasm is held in a higher regard for him, and so is the fact that once you come out of that rising wave, you’ll recognize that you shouldn’t have underestimated him. 

The ash on your cigarette is a high tower, unsmoked. 

Seeing that your pleasure has died out and overstimulation has taken place, he withdraws his tongue and grabs your waist with both of his hands. Waits until you open your eyes in order to kiss your clit in the form of a settlement. Slowly, he lays your body down, careful not to hurt your butt, and he leans over and takes his cigarette back—only to expertly flick off the ash without making a mess and sink it back to your mouth for the final puff. He holds it for you, a sign of his dominance over you, and he no longer can perceive whether its foundation is of his fatherliness or just masculine instincts. And he doesn’t want to know anymore. He doesn’t want to see, to think. A great blanket of sadness swathes him feignedly snugly, emotional exhaustion seeping into his every nerve ending. 

He wants to be alone at this moment. Sleep it off. Wake up next week. 

“Come here.” 

He’s flinging the cigarette into the glass of water when your fingers sneak upon your favorite place of his body—his ribs. They fist his shirt, tempt him back into your alluring presence, and he’s so tender at this very moment that he lets you. He lets you push him against you and he lets you kiss him in the way that you’re skilled at, plunging your tongue into his mouth, setting him on fire. The well in him has never seen the rain and the sunlight, but the fire? It wants nothing but your fire, the heat and the sting of the burn. And he fears the bunny of his love will wander off into its deep darkness and never be found again. 

He pulls away, but you don’t let him, gripping his hair. 

“I want you,” you whisper, digging your eyes into his, entrancing him and entrapping him because by those words you change everything. 

The strategy is erased. The bow of the scheme lowers its arrow down. It no longer matters to whom it backfires because it ceases to exist in this minute. All because of your honesty, portrayed by your innocent words. 

What would have happened if you used them at the beginning of this night? Would you have ended up with red welts or hickeys across your butt? 

Jungkook’s heart hammers. Lightness falls upon his shoulders and he rolls them back, relaxing the muscles at last. He detects a sliver of kindness in this all, one that has the power to change this trajectory, and it propels him to nod his head, brush your hair back, and kiss your cheek. 

Tenderness. Innocence. No sign of mischief. 

“You want me?” he flirts subduedly, skimming his lips upon the corner of your mouth up across your cheek to your nose, which he kisses, too. “You want this cock to stretch you out? Make you feel good like my tongue, hm?” 

He’s stunned by the ease to his words, how natural this feels. As if he hadn’t hurt you at all, as if you hadn’t seduced him and made a wreck out of him. As if his trauma hadn’t resurfaced, the one he had buried so deep within the well that it withered into crumbs. What power you have, to erase and to change. 

To soften. 

He kisses your wet chin, smeared by your essence that dripped from his own. Dips down to your neck, waiting for your response, for your consent. Imagines you’re too dumbfounded by getting what you wanted for so long at last, and right now at this very second, he’s happy for you. 

Happy to be the giver, the provider. 

Happy to tease you. 

“I’m not fucking you until you use your words,” he whispers against the column of your neck, his tongue slipping out and grazing across the sensitive skin as he kisses you there. The smacking sound he makes arouses him to a point of madness almost, but he holds it back just for a little while. “And until you say please, baby girl.” 

You gasp at the pet name and it pleases him so much that he lopsidedly smiles and drags that expression of positivity against your skin until he ends up facing you. The tendril of joy that curls around the moths in his stomach fuels his smile to transform into a full grin and he finds himself having withdrawals of the feeling of your skin. Jungkook grabs your face and he watches the mischief die out from your eyes—like a candlelight melting into darkness. And there truthfulness and the raw reality come up for air. 

“Did you spank me because I didn’t use my words?” you probe, and he’s thankful for the question, for the face of this moment as he deems it valuable and significant. The calmness he receives from it settles over the bunny, preventing him from observing the fire fading out. Instead, he focuses on stargazing at you. 

“Yes,” he agrees, fulfillment clenching his heart. “You showed me your tits through the window when anyone passing or driving by could see, instead of telling me like the good girl I know you are.” 

You curl your lips behind your teeth, contemplating his words. Your eyes follow your hands as they glide across his arms up to his shoulders, and Jungkook shivers. Hopes you don’t notice. Would be too embarrassing, considering the unnamed role he’s stepped into. 

“I tried to tell you,” you say, concentrating on the speck of fluff somewhere on his shirt. “You know that I did, but you kept your distance. You stopped talking to me, too, you know.” 

Your sentence makes the reason behind your flashing click in his brain, and he pushes away the previous deception of your sinfulness. Jungkook swims through the myriad of his thoughts, filtering out the lies of the mischief and gathering the truth that glistens and glimmers in his hands. 

“You shouldn’t flash private parts of your body just to get a guy to talk to you,” he scolds gently, squeezing your face for a millisecond to prove the gravity of his discipline—and there it is, the right kind of discipline he sought. It wasn’t supposed to be the spanking, it was supposed to be this. “You’re a beautiful, smart girl. You don’t need to do that. You don’t need to do shit.” 

The light in your eyes that appears blinds him and lingers, despite your following words. 

“But you just said I should’ve used my words.” 

“Yes,” he breathes out immediately, dripping with desperation, his brows knitting. “You should’ve used them or you could’ve waited like I told you to because I was gonna come back to you. I was gonna come back to you and give you this cock, give you what you wanted.” 

Your hands slide down to his forearms, hanging onto them, and your eyes gain a glossy film. Your brows twist, and Jungkook can vividly see you understand his point and comprehend his reprimand. 

“So you’re saying that if I came down and asked you to fuck me, you would’ve done it?” 

He doesn’t have to ponder your question for long because the answer tumbles down onto him like a feather of wisdom. He was roaming in a bad place of idleness and apathy, but it was you who got him up from his table, led him with invisible hands into the shower and then into his car. It was you, and if you had asked him that question, the fight would surely be present, but if you insisted, if you said please—he knows he wouldn’t be able to say no to you. 

Even if he didn’t enjoy it as much. 

“If you said please, I would’ve thrown you over my shoulder and fucked you until all you knew was me,” Jungkook says, and he means it. The same hand that gripped your face sneaks down between your legs in one swift, hurried motion and his middle finger slips into your heat with utmost ease due to how wet you are. But there, on purpose, all of his rapidness stops. His digit slides to the first knuckle and remains there. Your walls swallow him and Jungkook gulps with a certain kind of difficulty, feeling faint. If you squeeze around his shaft like this, he’s not too sure if he’ll survive. “Your pussy would know only me and no one else, you got that?”

You tighten even more around his finger, fluttering—and the rest of you flutters, too, underneath him. Your body writhes, willing him to give you more, but he won’t. Not until you learn to use your words. 

“You’re not getting the rest of my fingers until you talk to me,” he settles, propping his elbow above your head, maneuvering his weight onto one side, his painful hard-on resting against your hip bone. “It’s all up to you, baby.” 

You whimper, stalling your fidgeting, and Jungkook senses your strong will to relax taking effect. And for that, he kisses your forehead. You fist his shirt at his stomach and he wonders if you can feel the kicks of his moths against your hand. Your pelvis tilts, but he knows it’s just your natural instinct, and he lets it pass. 

He trusts you, even when you ask him another challenging question. 

“Will you spank me if I don’t?” 

His heart pounds, scaring the moths, but he takes a deep breath, rubbing his nose in your hair before he pierces his gaze into your eyes, making sure you know he means his words when he says: “No, I won’t. That was a mistake.” 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” 

And like you tilted your pelvis, you tilt your chin and seize his bottom lip, kissing him with such tenderness that he moans and nearly gives you the entirety of his finger. It takes all of his willpower not to do so, concentrating instead on the sealing of the promise as he allows you to kiss him on your own terms. Soft pecks handled by the turning of heads with interludes in between, tasting each other while the time and the cosmos hold their breaths. How beautiful this is and how delicate, the act of not ripping each other’s clothes off but taking your shared time, standing in the way of the laws of this life. 

“Okay,” you whisper against his lips, and Jungkook grasps that you’ve been gathering courage all this time for a reason he longs to know. “Fuck me, please.” 

He hums in pleasure, pressing a rewarding kiss against your lips that lasts for only a second—interrupted by the force of his pleased grin. The fulfillment he feels grows, merging into a high-leveled gratification that buzzes throughout his whole body. He tries to kiss you again but fails, awkwardness seeping through that makes you daintily giggle. And once he hears his own, an oasis of serenity and sentimentality, perfumed by the sweetest tea of pomegranate leaves, transpires in his chest. 

“Good girl,” he praises, adding another finger, his vocal cords strained by his emotions. “Where do you want me? Tell me where.” 

Your breath hardens, wafting across his features, but you’re not shy, you’re not timid to tell him where you need him: “In my pussy, please.” 

His cheeks ache from his smile, but he can’t stop. He’s fucked, he loves you, and it completely massacres him. “That’s it. You learn so well.” 

Jungkook pulls out his fingers to his first knuckles, dropping his gaze to them just to see how much you coated them. Your essence glistens in the dimmed light and drips down his palm. Wanting you to see as well, he pulls them out entirely and shows you. The droplets plummet to your chest and you bite your lip, blushing, your eyes running all across his hand. Over and over again. 

“You’re so prettily wet,” he rasps, closing his lips over your cheek, and he doesn’t need you to respond to his comment before he plunges them back in and begins to fuck you with such a speed that you scream out, grabbing his forearm and sinking your nails into it. 

That doesn’t stop him either. The need to make you come for being such a good girl after that winter of emotional pain ferally takes control of him and he douses himself in its tide. 

He pistons his fingers into you, curling them at the front wall. Thumbing your clit, you roll your eyes back, your chest heaving and gasping for air. Your little nipples perk up for him against the fabric of your night dress, and the sight is so dazzling that he doesn’t blink as he watches you. He can’t wait to have you all bare for him—to see you in your full glory, your flesh bouncing and under his command. His cock leaks at that thought and his animalistic instincts take a hold of him, fucking you faster with his fingers until your whole body shakes—just like he wanted, and until your whole body comes for him. 

The fountain of your pleasure soaks you first before it soaks him, and Jungkook thinks it’s exactly what you deserved. You yelp, but the sound of horror soon turns into a sound of elation as you begin to sputter into a fit of giggles. One he consumes by kissing you nastily, all tongues and spit, while he massages your clit, taking you to the finish line until you can’t anymore. 

“Oh, Jungkook,” you moan into his mouth, barely able to kiss him back as the daze and dizziness of your orgasm seizes you, and Jungkook hums in response, knowing—knowing all about how you feel. 

He grabs your waist and throws you onto your bed a few feet away. Your studio is a small place, fitting all necessities into one room, and by some sixth sense he knows where you store your collection of knee socks and lingerie. He turns around, rummaging in your dresser, and the ones he likes the most just fall into his hand, as if asking for him. A fine black cotton with no endearment, beautiful in all its simplicity. He places it on the bed, his hands quick to grapple the hem of your nightdress and haul it over your head, making your breasts bounce from the impact. His cock cries at the sight and lowly he growls, immediately busying his hands with the fabric of your knee socks in order not to delve deep into your bosom. He untangles it from its rolled-up stacking, bunches it up in his hands and one by one, he drags them up your legs, kissing your wet thigh each time he finishes, smoothing down the band. 

And then he undresses. Pops open the button of his jeans, slides down his zipper, giving you a full show of his manhood through his boxers, drenched because of you. You ogle him with a parted mouth, drool building in the corners of your mouth, and Jungkook finds it so endearing that he shoots you a grin before he sneaks his hand inside his boxers and shows his raging, reddened cock to you. 

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks, gently, slowly sweeping his hand up and down on the shaft, letting out little staccatos of ragged breaths as he finally senses some kind of pleasure in the longest hour of his life. His precum freely drips down, making it uncomplicated, and you look as though you are utterly transfixed. 

Your eyes nearly go cross, gaping at his length. 

“Fuck, the veins,” you comment, swallowing thickly and jutting out your tongue to wet your dry, ruined lips. “Yes, please. I want it so bad.” 

And then you begin to scurry to your knees, but Jungkook doesn’t allow that to happen. You’re not sucking his dick—you’re getting fucked, and he tells you that, shifting you back down onto the mattress, using the same hand placement that he did at the start of this evening. Except the feeling of your bare, supple and soft tits drives him off his head, and he has to stop stroking his cock because if he continued, he would’ve pumped ropes and ropes of his cum to hang off those pretty, pretty nipples. 

He groans, internally, considering this a torment and nothing else, but it’s better than the mental anguish he experienced. He’s present in the reality and he cherishes it so much that he wants to give back to you by fucking you into oblivion. 

What a twist of events. 

“I’m fucking you raw, you hear me?” he announces, taking his position and yanking you down until his ball sack collides most wonderfully with your sopping pussy. He sucks in a breath, his entire manhood so sensitive and on the brink of such a profound climax that he’s not sure how he’ll last once he’s inside you. He exchanges a look with you and discovers that you’ve been touched by it just the same. Your eyes, star-filled, widen and soon lower at the impact.  “I can’t have anything separating you from me. I want to feel you. Through and through. You understand?” 

You can only nod your head, your muscles so tense that it seems as though you’re not breathing at all, and that worries him. He’s aware that being on the cusp of receiving what you wanted for so long is more than thrilling, but he needs you to be relaxed. He needs this to be normal for you because nothing will ever be the same after he discovers the waters of your femininity. There won’t be a day your pussy won’t get stuffed full. 

Jungkook caresses your cheek with his knuckles, frowning. “Breathe. I’m gonna go slow, I promise. Do you trust me?” 

A nebula of tears clouds your eyes within the speed of light, your chin quivering. Your words come just as quickly, butchering his heart. 

“Jungkook, this is my first time.” 

The night spring air moves gently through the room. A swallow sings to the effulgent orbs strewn across the darkened heavens, interrupting the silence. His phone, inside the pocket of his jeans somewhere on your floor, vibrates unendingly. 

The sly, intentional touches in his car. The confessions of what you were doing under your blanket after the date ended. Your wet panties after he expressed the past version of his fatherliness towards you. The pressed-up tits against your window after a too-long of a pause. Was this the thing you were trying to tell him? That you were a virgin, yearning to be touched for the first time? 

That you chose him to be the first one? 

Is that why you never relented? Has he become your obsession as much as you have become his? 

Jungkook begins to chuckle, and the sound is magnified into a full laughter that heartily pulsates in his chest. You are a little vixen, and a cute one. Older than a cub, younger than the full-grown animal. Just learning how to hunt, attuned to her urges and instincts. And you learn so well. 

He’d been caught, but now he’s been physically strapped. To you, and to your little perversions. 

Jungkook makes it so you feel his delight from it by kissing you deeply. And he makes it so you feel his shaft by gliding it back and forth across your feminine flesh, stimulating your clit and stealing your attention from the cold side of your emotions. Stealing it in every respect by moving his mouth to your eyelids while they’re still closed and lost in the dream of the kiss and by kissing the tears that gathered underneath them. 

“I’m gonna take care of you,” he whispers against your eyelashes and you mewl, ever so beautifully, calmness catching up to you. “Have I never tried to tell you that before, hm?” 

You mewl again in response, too vulnerable to speak, and Jungkook wishes to bite you for that. You grab his neck and pull him flush against you, needing him, needing to find comfort in him, and he doesn’t hesitate to give you just that. 

He contemplates this moment. You… a virgin, a small animal, pure just for him, purer than he thought. Overbrimming with your horniness enough to do anything to get rid of it in a way that works. He sighs against your ear, sensing another gush of arousal coursing through him, vivifying his body in otherworldly measures. 

“You’re a little pet, aren’t you?” he purrs rhetorically, peppering kisses all over your ear and the spot on your neck beneath it that causes you to pant against him. “Was I the first one to ever eat your pussy? Hm?” 

He feels you answering him long before you use your words—you shake your head, clinging to him tighter. “No. I’ve had my pussy eaten before.” 

His arousal burns. “By who?” 

You turn over the leaf, and Jungkook takes a note of that.

“I think I’m ready. You can put it inside me.” 

His arousal burns brighter, shifting his hand to grab himself and line himself at your entrance. “Put what?” 

You groan in frustration, coaxing a chuckle out of him, but he doesn’t let up. He repeats the question, teasing the fuck out of you for his own personal pleasure while focusing his tip on your clit, and you writhe your hips and within the worst of your vexation, you give him your answer. 

“Your dick.” 

He laughs, but the sound is cut off as soon as your flowery walls constrict around his mushroom head. You and him simultaneously whimper in such a desperate manner that the moths inside his abdomen quiver. You swallow the most sensitive part of him as if he didn’t stretch you out with his fingers at all, making it hard for him to breathe. His brain malfunctions, the blasting of the pleasure throughout the pathways of his veins too much to handle. He pulls out, flicks his eyes up to you in order to study your reaction, and all your face muscles are strained, flexing in a scowl that he doesn’t like. 

He can’t have this. 

He can’t be swimming in the grandest pleasure he ever got a taste of while you’re drowning in discomfort. And at the same time, he can’t have your expectations ruined. It’s not fair. You wanted this, you looked forward to this, and he wants you to experience how good this is, live out your fantasies that cost him everything. You just have to be patient, and he tells you that. 

“This is going to take a few tries,” he says, cradling your cheek. “You have to be patient. You’re not used to me yet. It’s gonna feel good just like you imagined, but you have to push through. I’m here with you.” 

You cry out, your liquid emotions rushing through again, but never escaping. “You’re really big. I don’t think I can do it.” 

He smiles at that and doesn’t pry away the selfish satisfaction he gets from that. Jungkook stashes it in the well, a line of perspiration forming on his forehead. 

“This dick—” He grins, knowing this word now belongs to you. “Was made for you to take, so it doesn’t matter what you think. You’re gonna take it. I believe in you.” 

You hide in the crook of his neck, but Jungkook decides there’s not gonna be any hiding anymore. He sits up, dominates the time by fisting your wrists and preventing you from hiding your face. His cock drools on your pelvic bone and he still doesn’t believe how he could’ve gone so long like this at this point. He presses your wrists down right on the mess he made and reaches his thumb to the side, circling your clit. And as he relaxes your muscles by that, he spits on his fingers, lubricates his tip and sheathes himself inside you, earning a gasp from you that adds to his satisfaction. 

“Jungkook,” you call out, a hint of panic in your voice, but Jungkook shakes his head. Pushes even deeper. Puts a little more pressure into the circles on your clit for a second before he lifts his thumb, spits on the pearl, and continues. “Oh–oh my—”

“Let me handle it, let me handle you. I know what to do. Trust me, yeah?” Jungkook growls, letting out hard, little breaths through his gritted teeth as he tries with great difficulty not to move. “Relax your muscles for me. Look at me.” 

You flick your doe eyes at him. So big, so round, so terrified. His little pet, listening so well, experiencing something so huge for the first time. He lets you in on his thoughts, translating them word for word, helping you relax your muscles to accommodate for him. The term of endearment does something to you, and he sings it to you, switching his hand and rubbing your clit, lifting the one holding your wrists and kissing your flaccid fingers. 

“How does that feel, huh? Me rubbing your little clit and stretching you out, hm?”

He pushes a little more in, feeling you open more for him, and it signals him to take this to another level. Jungkook begins to make little moves forwards and backwards, delirious from the fact that he’s so close to breaking your hymen and owning your virginity. 

And the movements help. Your eyes flutter, your pleasure finally taking shape. “Oh, my god. This is it?” 

He chuckles and he speeds up, daring to fuck you deeper and your eyes widen at that, your chest quickening, unable to handle it all. But you will. 

“Yes, baby. This is it. You did it,” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head and leaning down again, stealing a wet kiss. “It’s finally here. What you’ve been wanting all this time is yours now. You better enjoy it.” 

And with that, he buries himself all the way to the hilt with one hard thrust and begins to fuck you like you deserve. The meeting of your mound and his makes him growl out loud and he watches the  glistening in and out motion as if it were the last thing he ever got to see. And he longs to focus better. 

“Keep your hands up and don’t move them,” Jungkook commands and lets go of your wrists, grazing his palms down your chest, groping your full tits at last and he lingers there for a second. You squeeze around him when he pinches your nipples with his thumbs and the knuckles of his forefingers, a river of small moans pouring from your mouth. He draws his cock out halfway and rubs your nipples as he draws back inside with a certain gentleness like he promised, light-headed and drunk on it all. And then he allows them to rub against his flat fingers on their own once he quickens his pace and your tits bounce in a freed flux—and this is where your features scrunch up in the same manner that his do. 

One soul. He amalgamates into you, and he doesn’t know whether that’s a good thing or worse than the grayness he was a victim of earlier. 

He doesn’t have time to think, your pussy renders him of any logic and of any coherent thought. And the same thing must be happening in your headspace as well because you can’t keep your eyes open. You swim away from him, and he doesn’t like that. 

“Look at me while I’m fucking you.” 

You choke out some version of an agreement, popping your eyes open and boring them into his. He continues on with his travel, sliding his hands down to your waist that he grabs and uses as a leverage to ultimately give you his best. 

He fucks you mercilessly, with a few gaps of gentleness in between because he’s a man of his word. Your pussy squelches around him, driving his heart out of his chest right into yours, and he can’t help but to bend down and take your nipple into his mouth, warming up the spot for that dark flesh. But he doesn’t expect you to come as he does so, and he’s so proud of you that he could die at this moment. 

“Yes, that’s it, baby. Just like that. Come for me.” 

You convulse, your hands losing control as they need to grab onto something and they grab onto his hair, pulling at the strands. Your moans, wrapped around his name, echo around the walls of the room, sailing out into the spring air outside through the open window, and he stalls his own orgasm, induced by the almost irresistible fluttering of your walls. He swirls his tongue around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth, taking you to that finish like that he’s proved he’s able to always take you to. And when your convulsing settles, he pulls out, straddles you and strokes his cock in your face. It takes merely a second for him to come and the ropes of his manly essence land on your lips, your neck, your clavicles and your tits. The orgasm is an adrenaline rush that launches him out of his body and into the dark matter of time and the cosmos. He shows them who’s the man in the house of his own body, and the chapter of his emotional anguish is finished. 

Nothing will ever torment him again because he’s evaporated into you. 

Coming down, he pants while looking down at you. Your starry eyes are lidded and absolutely exhausted, but the spark is still there, a fix that will never be broken. He can see that he’s impressed you, and when he checks his cock, he realizes he’s still hard and throbbing, glistening and bloodied. How could he not after all that restraint and all that hinderance. His balls are still heavy, asking to let out more, and it all depends on you if that’s happening. 

He wonders how you’re feeling right now, and he brushes the cum drop off your lips and feeds it to you. You latch onto his hand, eager to taste it, and he grins. Will never tire of your appetite for the new. Your tongue rounds across his finger inside your mouth, making his cock twitch and he touches it more to calm it down than to satisfy it. 

“How was that?” he asks, genuinely curious, despite the fact your mouth is busy. Something about it impassions him all over again and he’d better stop. He withdraws his finger, all wet from your adorable saliva, and waits for your answer. Quirks a brow, even. 

“The orgasm feels the same as when I make myself come,” you say, and he’s disappointed to hear that, that it’s the first thing you say after all he’d been through. His brows lower down and he places his fists on either side of you, his face at level with yours. 

“Is that all you have to say?” 

You blink slowly at him, and Jungkook thinks that perhaps you’re too tired and floored to be having this conversation with him. But your response causes that certain anger to brood in his gut. 

“Your cum tastes good.” 

He scoffs, caught off guard. Dismayed. He expected you to be more vocal about what he’s done for you, especially after what had been the cost of it all, but it seems as though that you just used him to silence your curiosity.  

Do you not love him? Did you not want him to be the one to take your virginity? 

Swinging his leg over, he gets off of you and stares at you. You’re looking down at your body, searching for the drops of his cum he left behind just to eat them. Your soft, supple flesh. The knee socks. The marks he left behind—on your nipple from all the sucking, the harsh ghosts of the kisses on your neck and on your lips, the welts and redness on your butt. He might have taken your virginity and envisioned owning it, but when he looks down at his hands, he finds them empty. 

Your virginity is still yours and his phone, somewhere, rings. 

© 2025 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

BACK to masterlist

[bluehoodiewoozi]

Found You First

Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Genre: fluff & humour with a slight side of angst. kind of a slow burn.

Word Count: 17K

Warnings: adult language. alcohol and food mentions galore. Hoshi meddles and creates more problems for everyone involved. reader’s size is not specifically mentioned, but Jihoon and she fit into each other’s clothes. one mention of “daddy” as a joke.

[best friends to lovers!AU] For years you’ve hated Valentine’s day, convinced you’d never find a love worth celebrating. Maybe this year you’ll see that what you needed has been right in front of you all along.

♡ This fic is a part of @camandemstudios Lonely Hearts Cafe Collab! Please check out the other writer's works as well! They're all so good and we've all worked so hard!! ♡

[Still don’t know what to get your loved-one for Valentine’s day? We’ve got you covered!]

You stared at your phone, almost praying it would blow up and disappear along with the message. Unfortunately, you still needed your phone and the universe knew it. You sighed and deleted the message.

Maybe you wouldn’t be so bitter every February if the world was a little kinder to single people. After all, at least half the people in the world must be single – whether by choice or not. And yet it seemed that everything in the world was keen on reminding you of how entirely single you specifically were, your sister included.

She all but wrestled the phone out of your hand. “That’s it. I’m signing you up for dating apps.”

“Please don’t,” you replied with only half your usual annoyance and enthusiasm. Maybe a part of you thought this was exactly the push you needed. 

Already nose-deep in the app store, she didn’t even bother to pretend to hear you. 

“This one has good reviews–” she mumbled to herself as if it was her phone all along.

You only hugged a cushion to your chest and stared at the TV. Whatever romantic film your sister had chosen to watch today was not helping your problem. 

“What’s the point? Maybe Soonyoung’s right.”

“Who?” She finally glanced up.

“Soonyoung.”

She blinked. “Is this Soonyoung cute?”

“Can you please stop trying to set me up with every guy you hear about?” You rolled your eyes. “He said that the key to finding love is to first love yourself.”

“That’s, like, basic philosophy,” she replied easily and turned back to your phone. “I need your email and a password– Oh, wait, I can just make something up.”

You were fairly certain she wasn’t listening to a word you were saying but you were past the point of caring. At least talking to a person who isn’t listening is a (small) step above talking to the lonely snake plant on your windowsill. 

“Maybe I should take some time to just find myself,” you contemplated out loud. “I could try a new hobby. Or a new style. Find new books to read. Maybe then I won’t even care that I’m single.”

Still not looking up from the app she had newly installed on your phone, your sister hummed. “One of my friends did say that fictional boyfriends are better than real ones.”

So maybe she was better at multitasking than you had thought.

You put the cushion away and leaned closer to her. “What are you doing on my phone anyway?”

Proudly, she turned the device for you to see. “Ta-da! Your first ever dating app profile!”

A shiver of fear ran up your spine. “You signed me up for a dating app?”

“And you’re not allowed to delete it until you find a boyfriend,” she declared. “And if you do, I’ll just download it again.”

“You’re a menace.”

“Whatever,” she laughed and handed you back the phone, picking up her own from the coffee table. “Oh, I should get going.”

You couldn’t help but pout. “Already? Why?”

She rolled her eyes and went to pull on her coat. “Because, unlike you, I have a boyfriend who wants to take me out on a date. In fact,” she was practically beaming and you felt the ugly green tentacles of jealousy crawling up your leg already, “he’s taking me on a date every day until Valentine’s day.”

A pause. With a startle, you soon realised she was expecting you to cheer for her. You tried to find words that weren’t as bitter as you were feeling. “Oh, that’s so sweet of him.”

It was the right answer. She actually squealed as she confirmed, “Right? He’s such a romantic.” Her voice dropped to a conspiratory whisper as she leaned closer to you over the back of the sofa. “I think he’s going to propose on the big day.”

You almost sighed in despair. “I hope so! You deserve that ring.”

“You are so right,” she agreed and opened her mouth to say something more when the door suddenly opened. 

You tilted your head to see who had intruded. It was Jihoon, black hat covered in white snow and a takeaway bag in his hand. He blinked at the sight of your sister before smiling and waving. “Hi. I didn’t know you had visitors.”

“I do have friends other than you, Hoon,” you informed him. “Also, I do have a working doorbell.”

He gave you a funny look. “And I have your spare key.”

It was clear you had made a mistake when you awarded him the honour. Now you were stuck dealing with him even when you didn't want to.

“I’ll leave you two,” your sister announced and left, not before whispering something in Jihoon’s ear in the passing.

Jihoon’s ears turned red as he cleared his throat and set the takeaway bag on the table. 

“What did she tell you?” you asked him with a groan. You knew your sister better than anyone – there was no way she hadn’t told him something so embarrassing you wouldn’t be able to look him in the eyes for weeks to come. “Lay it on me.”

“Nothing. It was nothing.” His reply was just a little bit too quick and wavering, but you decided to let it go this once. “I brought you some leftovers.”

You raised a brow. “Leftovers?”

“They ordered too much food to the studio today, so I brought you the extras,” he told you almost timidly, gesturing to the bag like it was no big deal and had required zero thought from him. He was a strange man but maybe that’s why you liked to keep him around. “Can’t let the good food go to waste. Besides,” his eyes seemed sharp all of a sudden, “have you eaten at all today?”

He didn’t need an actual answer – you both knew the truth.

“I’ll be sure to savour it,” you told him with a joking salute. “Want to join me for a movie?”

His nose scrunched up at the mention. “I wish. I promised to help Seungkwan set up for the party tonight.”

Right. The party. Seungkwan’s “Jeonghan’s party”. In three hours. You had forced yourself to forget about it. 

Jihoon pursed his lips in thought, brown eyes sparkling with mischief. “But we could always pretend we got kidnapped by a serial killer.”

“Sounds like too much work.”

“We escape to Iceland, become anonymous sheep herders and no one ever hears from us again,” he then suggested, snapping his fingers for emphasis and raising his brows as he waited for your reaction.

But as tempting as that sounded… “Seungkwan would find and skin us in fourteen days flat.”

He groaned and threw his head back. “Then I guess we have no choice. We must commit a crime so vile they give us a life sentence.”

“He’d just bring the party to the jailhouse,” you laughed. “And we wouldn’t even be able to sneak out.”

He took a deep breath and straightened back up. “Well, I’m out of ideas. Just plain suffering it is then.”

You glanced at the clock. “It’s not too late to fake our deaths.”

Jihoon snorted a laugh. “You just said that pretending to get kidnapped would be too much work.”

“Faking deaths is different! Or! We could summon a freak storm that would leave us stranded here,” you suggested. 

“How?”

“I’m sure there’s a good Youtube tutorial somewhere.”

He giggled at the idea. “You really don’t want to go to the party, huh?”

You could only sigh and wish for the plush green fabric of the sofa to swallow you whole. “There’s definitely going to be so many couples there, all dressed in matching outfits and giggling and making out. And I’ll be all lonely and miserable, quietly downing all of Seungkwan’s wine.”

When you looked at Jihoon, he was smiling at you almost fondly. He was silent for a while. Then he spoke again, “I’ll keep you company. Don’t worry.”

“It’s not the same,” you whined like a little brat even as his promise made you feel a tiny bit gooey and soft inside. 

“I’m sorry?” He just laughed again and shook his head, the remnants of snow falling onto the floor. “I’m bringing those muffins you like so much.”

You felt yourself perk up immediately. “Muffins? Why didn’t you just say so?”

He laughed harder but said nothing else as he turned and left. You would’ve been upset if you didn’t know him better. 

Your phone chimed with a new notification. 

[Claim your Valentine’s day coupon now and surprise your partner with a free tour of the museum!]

You groaned but didn’t delete the message.

[HOON: if you want to match with someone, I’m wearing red today]

You groaned harder and shut off your phone.

It wasn’t that you actually disliked these parties. You quite liked them, really. Seungkwan had figured out the perfect balance of socialising, snacks and music. It was a joy to be present, hanging out with your friends as you forgot about the problems of the week. 

The only problem was that ever since Seungcheol and Chan had introduced the idea of an annual friendly “Party King” competition, the number of parties you were gently blackmailed to attend had doubled. And, frankly, your social battery was due for an upgrade that never came.

You suspected the same went for Jihoon.

Clad in his dark red hoodie, he joined you on the sofa the moment his eyes caught yours. Sipping his soda and softly singing along to the music, he completely ignored your personal space and made himself comfortable by your side.

“No wonder you can’t get a boyfriend,” Seungkwan joked when he walked past the two of you, a box of party games in his arms. His smile was blinding as he told you, “Your guard dog’s going to scare all of the guys away.”

You blinked in confusion. He nodded to your side. Following the gesture, you found yourself face to face with Jihoon. A groan left your mouth.

“What?” Jihoon wondered. 

“Seungkwan says you’re the reason I’m single.”

He didn’t seem the least bit perturbed by the fact. “Well, if they want to date you, they have to impress me first.”

You almost felt a little fond of him, appreciating his protectiveness. But you also knew your Jihoon and you knew he wasn’t finished yet.

Under your warning eyes, he took a sip of his soda before smirking. “God knows you wouldn’t recognise a red flag if it slapped you in the face.”

Glancing down at his clothes, you snorted a laugh. “You’re literally dressed as a red flag yourself. I should be avoiding you of all people.”

“No, I’m just warning other people that you are a red flag,” he replied effortlessly, cutting your laugh short. Sensing he was now in real, actual danger, his eyes widened. “That was a joke. Just a joke. I’m sorry–”

You smacked him upside the head and shook your head. “Did someone mix alcohol into the soda? You’re so mean today.”

He blinked once. Twice. Looked into his soda cup. And then cursed. “I knew it tasted funky! Yoon Jeonghan!”

You could only laugh harder as he jumped up from the sofa and ran into the kitchen with fury that could not be matched. Drunk words are sober thoughts they say. Which is precisely why you hardly drank anything at these gatherings. 

Jihoon returned less than two minutes later, two unopened colas in hand. There was still an attitude to his foot stomps and a glint of annoyance in his eyes, but he opened one of the cans before handing it to you like he always did. 

“Not even Jeonghan can tamper with closed cans,” he reasoned almost bitterly. “Who mixes vodka into soda?”

“Lots of people,” you told him with a chuckle and a gentle pat to his shoulder. “It’s called mixing a cocktail.”

He rolled his eyes. “Rude of them to not consider people who don’t drink alcohol.”

“Kind of like it’s rude of them to not consider the single people here,” you half-joked in camaraderie. “Have you noticed they’ve only been playing love songs tonight?”

Jihoon’s brows furrowed. “Have they?”

You nodded towards the speakers that were blasting Love Me Right. “The last two songs were Lover and Steal the Show.”

He grimaced. “There’s still 12 days left until Valentine’s day. Are they insane?”

“Probably.” You rested your legs onto his lap. “I guess I’ll just be extra bitter and lonely this year then.”

“No shot at romance?”

You raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on your lips. “You literally just said you’re wearing red to warn others how much of a red flag I am. And now you want me to find romance?”

“I have mixed feelings about you dating,” he told you honestly – a little too honestly, if the red tint of his ears was anything to go by. He cleared his throat. “I should start checking the drinks for alcohol before I drink them.”

Pretending not to notice, you took a sip of your cola. “I keep thinking about what Soonyoung said yesterday. About loving myself before I can find someone.”

“Isn’t that just social media nonsense?” Jihoon wondered quietly, resting his free hand on your knee. His thumb rubbed little circles onto your skin, comforting you.

“What if he’s right?” you continued. “What if I love myself so little that I simply cannot be loved?”

Frowning, Jihoon let out a sharp noise of protest. The gentle touch of his thumb turned into a warning pinch between his fingers. “You are loved! Who put this dumb thought into your mind?”

“... Soonyoung?” 

“I’ll beat him up on Monday,” he half-heartedly promised, a heavy look still on his face. Softening his voice, looking straight into your eyes, he spoke, “Don’t you dare think you cannot be loved. You are loved.”

“By whom?”

He looked away and didn’t say. 

“Whatever,” you sighed once the silence became too much. The speakers began playing Die With a Smile. You sighed once more. “Can’t they play something less romantic? I’d kill for a dumb, mindless party song right now. Do you think you could ask Jeonghan to play something else? He scares me–”

But it seemed that Jihoon was still stuck on the last topic. “What are you doing for Valentine’s day this year?”

“... Aside from crying myself to sleep after watching To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before for the 15th time?”

“You don’t think you love yourself enough to be loved by someone else,” he echoed your earlier words, his eyes stuck on something in the distance, “so why not change that? Treat yourself to something good this year. No sad movies and ice cream,” he finally looked at you again, “just do something you’ve always wanted to do.”

You knew he was right – he always was right. “But it’s boring to do that alone.”

“Then I’ll come with,” he decided after a moment of thought. A small smile appeared on his face. His thumb finally resumed its circles on your knee. It was sweet. Until he opened his mouth again, repeating the words playing on the stereo: “Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow.”

To the sound of his giggles, you snorted and slapped his hand away. “You’re awful.”

“I’m serious–”

“Aren’t you two just the cutest!” Jeonghan interrupted your banter with a childish pout on his rosy lips as he leaned against the wall across from the table. Soonyoung was smiling brightly at his side. “Are you dating yet?”

You wondered if he was done asking that at every party yet. It’s not like it was ever going to change (no matter how much he, Soonyoung, and your mother hoped it would).

Jihoon sat up, narrowed eyes settling on Jeonghan as if he was the devil himself. “Did you mix vodka into the soda?”

“Maybe,” came the reply with a shrug and a wicked giggle. 

“I could get you a boyfriend for Valentine’s day,” Soonyoung suddenly said, his brown eyes set on you. There was that glint of mischief again. You realised you feared this man more than you feared bears, and not for the usual reasons.

Even so, you laughed. “Soonyoung, if you were any good at being a wingman, Jihoon wouldn’t be single right now. In fact, you’re, like, the number one reason why he’s single.”

Forgetting his own argument with Jeonghan, Jihoon seemed to take offense to your statement. He let out a noise of hurt before pinching your knee once again.

“Au contraire, my friend,” Soonyoung argued and leaned so close that you could smell the raspberry-flavoured liquor in his breath, “I’m going to be the reason he finally gets the girl.”

You raised a brow. “Remember, just last week you told a girl Jihoon’s not into women when she asked if he was single.”

“I was drunk,” he told you, wearing a mask of nonchalance. “I don’t remember much from that night.”

“Or the time I got a girl’s number but you stole it and dropped it in the pool,” Jihoon pointed out with a smile that seemed almost venomous. You had no doubt he’d hold that mishap over Soonyoung’s head for the rest of their lives – you almost hoped he would.

Soonyoung had the decency to look a little deflated at the mention, at least. But even so there was no stopping him. Mumbling under his breath, he repeated himself, “I’m going to be the reason he finally gets the girl.”

You shared a look with Jihoon and mutually decided to forget this exchange.

When you were sixteen, Jihoon’s dad let you in on a little secret. He had peeked out of the kitchen to make sure his son wouldn’t hear and then he’d told you that Jihoon had set his phone up so that he would never miss your calls. He thought it was the most adorable thing, and so did you. 

You hadn’t even realised your phone’s Do Not Disturb setting had an option to do so but suddenly you were giddy, excited to set your phone up in a similar manner. And when you didn’t quite manage to figure it out, you decided to compromise and just make his ringtone the loudest one you could find. It worked just the same for you.

You’ve had many phones since then, but the ringtone never changed. 

Though you were no longer sure if it was the obnoxiousness of the ringtone itself or the muscle memory of answering so many calls from him late at night, it never failed to wake you up when he needed you. 

Once again you woke up to the noise, hand automatically reaching for your phone even though your eyes were still closed and your mind was still halfway lost in dreamland. 

“Jihoon?” you mumbled his name as if his ringtone hadn’t been burnt into your memory.

The other line was silent for a moment. Then you heard a soft sigh. “Sorry. Did I wake you up again?”

“No,” you lied, dragging the vowel out as much as you could to loosen up your vocal cords. “What’s up?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Nightmare, stress or boredom?”

“... All three?”

“You have to pick one.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

He groaned but it was soon followed by a soft laugh. “Do you remember when we were kids and I threw that ball into Mr Yang’s window?”

Weird change of topic, you thought, but Jihoon did love to reminisce. So you humored him. “You mean the time he yelled at you so hard that you cried?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “And then you told me he deserved to have his window broken. And you built a pillow fort in your closet for me to hide so my parents couldn’t find and scold me.”

“It had world-class security,” you joked. “Buddy and I were a trusty team.”

But it was like he hadn’t heard your interjection, too lost in his own memory book. 

“You hid in there with me and hugged me when my mom came to get me,” his voice trailed off. He cleared his throat. “You know, she wasn’t even that mad at me. I only had to do the dishes for a week.”

“You were just a kid and she knew that,” you spoke so softly that you wondered if he even heard you this time. The shared memory of the day ran in front of your eyes. It was a simpler time but even back then you had been ready to do anything for him.

Silence engulfed the two of you, only the gentle static of the phones reminding you of the other still being there. Ten whole minutes went by like this and for a moment you wondered if he’d fallen asleep.

“I should go to sleep,” you spoke low in case he really was asleep. “I have to wake up early tomorrow.”

He hummed. “Why?”

“I’m going to a museum and I want to leave by 10. So I should get up before 9. And it’s already almost 3 am, so you know…”

“Since when is 9 am early?” he half-joked before suggesting, “Just go later.”

“I’m a woman of principles, Lee Jihoon. When I have plans, I see them through.”

He scoffed out a laugh. “Liar. Remember that novel you said you were going to write?”

“No clue what you’re talking about,” you feigned innocence, “and you have no proof.”

His laugh sounded like he was sitting right next to you. You silently thanked the wonders of modern technology. 

As you prepared to say good night, you heard his voice again. “You remember the thing Soonyoung said yesterday? About finding you a boyfriend?”

You scoffed. “You don’t think he was serious about that, right? He was just joking, being Soonyoung.”

“Right. Right…” He sounded distant again, like he was in a daze, as he spoke, “Do you think– Have you ever wondered if—” He groaned and you could practically see him scrunching his eyes shut in frustration. “Nevermind, it’s dumb. Sleep must be sneaking up on me.”

You hadn’t realised you’d been holding your breath. It came out in a not entirely genuine laugh. “Maybe we should both go to sleep.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a sigh. “You’re right, like always.”

“Always?” you teased.

“... Well, maybe not always.”

“You can’t take it back now,” you whined through laughter. “You almost never compliment me or my choices.”

He took a breath like he was about to say something. But nothing came out. Only a sigh. Then the phone call ended without another word – the way Jihoon liked it.

You rolled over to your side, reaching to put your phone away again when it buzzed. The screen lit up with a message. 

[Hoon: if I complimented you and all of your good choices, it would take forever.]

Crawling out of the comfort of your bed on one of your few days off, you wondered if the art of loving yourself was really worth the effort. 

As usual, half an hour was spent on reading the news and watching videos you weren’t entirely interested in. Another half an hour went by as you stared at the ceiling and contemplated your life decisions until you finally found the willpower to shower, get dressed, and eat a quick breakfast.

By 10, you were starting to feel like a human-being again, so you grabbed your keys and bag, and you walked out of your apartment. 

“You said you wanted to leave by 10,” Jihoon’s voice nearly shocked you into running back to your room. He was the dictionary definition of nonchalance as he stood in front of your door, barely even lifting his head, trying to read something off his phone. “It’s already 10:04, slowpoke. Are you ready to go yet?”

You stared at him for a while. Why was he here? Had you invited him along? No, you were sure you hadn’t. And then your jaw dropped as his words sunk in. “You’re the reason I stayed up until 3!”

“And to make up for it, I already sacrificed my arm by cleaning the snow off your car. You’re welcome. Let’s go.”

He never once looked up from his phone as he headed back down the stairs. You could only laugh in disbelief and lock your door before following after him. 

“Why are you here anyways?” you finally asked when the two of you reached your car which had, indeed, been brushed clean of snow. “I was going to go alone.”

Jihoon shrugged. “I was bored.”

“You were bored and just invited yourself along?” You wished you had that kind of audacity. 

The car seemed to be colder than the weather itself. You involuntarily shivered as you pulled the door closed behind yourself. Jihoon let out a noise of complaint as he settled into his usual spot in the leather passenger seat. Envy filled you as he adjusted himself and burrowed further into his warm fleece jacket. 

In an act of something akin to revenge, you tossed him your phone. “Read the directions. If I miss a turn because of you, I’m making you pay for my coffee.”

“Yes, captain,” he joked and turned the heat up to the maximum. One could only pray that your car’s battery would survive the trip. “Are we making any stops on the way?”

“I wasn’t going to.” You really weren’t. It was just a 70-minute drive to the museum – adding to the duration really wasn’t on your bucket list – but knowing Jihoon, not stopping for snacks was simply not an option. The deepening pout and his wide eyes were enough indication that you were right to assume so – he only ever used his cuter side to win. A deep sigh bubbled in your throat. Through gritted teeth you spoke, “But I suppose we could squeeze in a quick stop.”

He let out the tiniest cheer and happily gave the first instruction: “We need to go right, turn left at the intersection and then–” A noise of curiosity. “A Hyunjin wants to know if you have any pets? I guess?”

You frowned. There wasn’t a single Hyunjin you could think of. “Hyunjin?”

“That’s what it says,” he told you with a shrug. “He also wants to know how you feel about… ferrets.”

You weren’t entirely sure what that was about. “Just ignore it. Where to next?”

“Uh,” he vocalised, “right again.”

“Why did we even turn left then?” 

He chuckled. “I’m just telling you what the app says.”

“Whatever. Next?”

“Just keep going straight. We should reach the highway in, like, fifteen minutes.” 

Fifteen minutes straight through the busiest part of the city? You regretted your museum plans already. Should’ve just stayed at home and watched Youtube the whole day. There was a sneaking suspicion that even if you had watched traffic camera livestreams, you would’ve seen fewer red lights.

While you painstakingly stared at the lights, praying for them to turn green already, you noticed Jihoon happily scrolling through your phone. Your hand rose and somewhat forcefully landed on his thigh in a warning gesture. “Stay out of my private messages, creep.”

“Why would I want to read your private messages?” he half-joked and made a face that made you roll your eyes. “By the way, your mom said to bring tiramisu cake to dinner on Friday.”

Defeated, you sighed. “Tell her I’ve got it covered. What’s the occasion?”

“She wouldn’t tell.”

“You’re chatting with her right now?”

He smiled at you like it was obvious. “She’s my mother too.”

“Stop. That’s gross.”

“Also, who’s Andrew?” he then asked, smile dropping.

Another name you weren’t sure could be associated with yours. “Who?”

“An Andrew Johnson,” he slowly read the screen. “He wants to know what your favourite colour is.” His head whipped up just as you pressed the accelerator. “What’s with all these weird chats? You don’t seem to know these people?”

Desperately, you tried to recall a Hyunjin or an Andrew. You had no recollection of either. And somehow the list only seemed to grow with Jihoon calling out a new name and question at what felt like every minute: “Jongho just sent the cringiest pick-up line I’ve ever read”, “Joshua wants you to know that you have a typo in your profile”, “Minjae asked if you prefer walks on beaches or forest hikes”. 

Each notification made you more confused than the one before and soon you felt your brain would melt.

You finally had enough of the confusion when he said, “Turn right. I want a burrito. Also, Chanyeol says you look hot in your profile picture.”

“What profile picture?” you nearly cried out as you slammed the brakes in front of the gas station. “What is going on?”

Jihoon looked just as disheartened and puzzled as you felt, if not even more so. He unbuckled his seatbelt like it had been trapping him and threw your phone back to you for inspection like it was burning hot. He was already halfway through the door when you caught your bearings again. “You want anything?”

“Just a coffee,” you told him, barely paying half a mind to the conversation as you scrolled through your notifications. 

You barely noticed he left when you tapped on one of the notifications showcasing an unfamiliar name, a message and a photo of a handsome man. The screen opened on an app you had barely any recollection of ever downloading. A familiar ‘swipe left or right’ homescreen made you groan and shut your eyes as you locked the phone and tried your hardest to pretend this wasn’t real. 

Minutes passed in blissful almost-ignorance. You felt at almost-peace. It was almost nice.

Until Jihoon arrived once again, two burritos, a water and a coffee in hand, and a scowl on his face. 

“Did you figure out who those guys are yet?” he asked and for a moment you thought he sounded bitter. 

You didn’t have any sighs left in you, so you just grabbed a burrito and the coffee. “Yep.”

He raised a brow while he silently took the burrito back and handed you the other one instead. “So?”

You frowned at his actions. “Did you just swap the–”

“You wouldn’t like this one,” he said and took a pointed bite out of the burrito. “So, the mystery men?”

There it was: the last sigh you could force out of yourself. It didn’t feel anywhere as freeing as you hoped it would. “My sister got a hold of my phone the other day and downloaded a dating app. I think she might’ve messaged a few guys she thought I’d like.”

“You don’t seem happy about it.” You barely understood his words with his mouth so full of food. 

“I don’t really believe in dating apps working, you know,” you told him honestly and took a bite of your own burrito. Your eyes closed in bliss – you should’ve trusted Jihoon’s judgement from the start. “This is so good.”

“I know,” he replied with a knowing half-smile that disappeared as fast as it appeared. “If you don’t believe in the app, just delete it.”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Made a promise to not uninstall it.”

Your phone made the executive decision to light up with another notification just then. Jihoon tilted his head to read it and carefully voiced out the message: “Seungho says your eyes look as pretty as the starry night sky– Okay, that’s just cheesy.” 

Brows furrowed and nose scrunched up in disgust, he grabbed the phone, unlocking it with ease (you had only half a memory of ever giving him the password), and scrolled through the apps until he found the culprit. 

“I’m uninstalling it,” he told you when he felt your curious eyes on him. 

Your eyes widened at their own accord. “You can’t. I promised my sister–”

“Lucky for you, she’s not my sister,” Jihoon says as he swiftly uninstalled the app and brought peace into your life once again. His frown turned into a proud smile as he handed the phone back to you. “You’re welcome.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded, flabbergasted, confused. “Did you really just–?”

“Anything for you.” He said it with the uttermost seriousness. “If she tries that again, tell her she’ll have to deal with me first.”

Shaking off the odd wave of appreciation you felt for this man – your best friend, you reminded yourself –, you settled back down in your seat. You stared out the window for a while, slowly devouring your burrito. 

Head whipping around to stare at him in disbelief, you jolted upright again. “Wait, so my mom is your mom, but my sister is not your sister?!”

He was too busy enjoying his food (and accomplishments) to ever reply.

The banners of the café were mocking you.

Bright reds and pinks snickered as you walked past. Papers cut into perfect little hearts flew past your head, giggling as if they were better than you.

“Happy Valentine’s day!” they all said, side-eyeing you while you resisted the urge to commit your first arson. 

“When was the last time you ate something other than candy?” is all that Jihoon said in reply when you told him such. 

You spared a glare at him. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “You just tend to get a little…” he hummed in thought, glancing up at the sky as if he was expecting a dictionary to drop from a cargo plane any second now, “imaginative when you’ve had too much sugar.”

“I’m always imaginative.”

“It was not a compliment.”

You rolled your eyes in response and opened the door. “You can say what you want but I know for a fact that this whole holiday was invented to make fun of me.”

It didn’t take much to figure out that the pensive scrunch of his nose, the narrowing of his eyes and the tilt of his head meant that he was holding back a question that would probably end with one of you in the ER and the other in a police car. You decided the look alone was enough to warrant slamming the café door closed in front of his face and marched up to the register. His loud laughter taunted you as you did so; not even the thick walls of Soonyoung’s mother’s café could muffle the sound.

You didn’t bother to turn around to look at him as the bell chimed and Jihoon walked right up, taking his usual spot next to you, the remnants of laughter still on his tongue. “I will never get your deal with Valentine’s day, I swear.”

“There’s no deal. Only hatred. Even loathing, if you will.”

“I’ll make sure to ask Soonyoung to make your coffee as dark as your soul then,” he promised with a cheeky grin. The list of crimes you wished to commit on this day was growing by the second – he knew damn well to not come between you and your vanilla mocha latte.

“Anyways,” you sighed theatrically, “can’t Valentine’s day be over already?”

“I sure hope not,” Soonyoung’s bright voice sounded as he practically danced out of the backrooms, “our sales are always the best on Valentine’s day. So, what can I get you two?”

Why did everything have to be Valentine’s themed anyway? And so expensive? The new higher price of the chocolate muffins had you absolutely appalled.

Your bitter thoughts were interrupted by a nudge to your side. “What do you want?”

A new wave of confusion hit. “Since when do you ask that?”

“You’re acting like I order at random,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “They don’t have your usual waffles.”

You were even more appalled. Absolutely horrified, really. “They don’t have waffles?! What kind of a café doesn’t have waffles?!”

“We have waffles!” Soonyoung seemed offended by your best friend’s claim, a pout on his lips as he stood at the counter in his red apron (and was his name tag heart-shaped? (You could’ve sworn it was just a rectangle last week)). 

Who were you supposed to believe? Soonyoung who worked at the café and was too earnest to ever really lie to you? Or Jihoon who sometimes lied to you just to have a laugh? You were leaning towards the former, and Jihoon could read it from your face.

He groaned. “Fine, I’ll get you your pink heart-shaped waffles.”

The use of emphasis was not accidental and his brows rose in challenge, daring you to agree to his absolutely horrifying order.

“Heart-shaped?” You prayed he was joking. 

Turning to face Soonyoung, you found yourself disappointed to realise he wasn’t. With a bright, proud smile on his face, Soonyoung nodded. “We’re switching up the menu for the holiday.”

Single and lonely as you were, you could think of few things less appetizing than pink heart-shaped waffles. Biting back a whine of frustration, you leaned your forehead onto Jihoon’s shoulder and mumbled, “Just get me anything but that.”

You realised your mistake almost as soon as you said those words. Eyes widening, you pushed yourself back upright and tried to stop him as he placed an order for cinnamon rolls and a Nuts About You praline latte with a wicked grin on his face. You both knew exactly what he was doing and he found great amusement in your misery.

“Perfect–,” Soonyoung started, already clicking away to add your order.

You interrupted with a rather loud, “I do not want that!”

Jihoon’s lips quirked. “Why not? Too nutty for you?”

“I just don’t want it,” you declared, crossing your arms over your chest as you glared at him. “Just because.”

He pretended to roll his eyes before turning to Soonyoung again, “She’ll have a Cupid’s Special Never Bean Kissed instead.”

“We’re no longer friends, Lee Jihoon.”

The stupid smile didn’t leave his face. “You don’t want me to pay for lunch?”

Second mistake of the day. You groaned and his laughter filled the store as you did so. 

“Your food should be ready soon. Are you paying together or separately?” Before you could answer, Soonyoung added – and you could’ve sworn his eyes glinted with something not entirely wholesome –, “If you say you’re a couple, I can give you a 20% discount and two slices of cake for free. This goes until February 15th.” 

You and Jihoon stared at him dumbfounded. 

He shrugged. “I’m not allowed to assume.”

“What about this–” Jihoon widely gestured to the both of you, appearing equally baffled, “–says ‘might be a couple’?”

Soonyoung shrugged once more and put on a wide smile. “Are you?”

“No!”

“Worth a shot,” he sighed, his smile never fading. “You two could pull off being a couple though.”

“Why are we friends with you again?”

“Because you love me.” Your scrunched up face must have seemed doubtful enough because he soon added, “And my mom makes me give you employee discounts.”

“Exactly why does he keep offering us the couples’ discount every year?” Jihoon wondered under his breath two minutes later while practically throwing himself onto the chair across from yours. “He knows we’re both single.”

“Maybe he’s trying to play matchmaker,” you joked, grabbing a cinnamon roll off the plate he’d placed on the table. “You know, to set us up or something.”

Jihoon caught your eyes. A moment of silence passed as you contemplated your words. 

Then he shook his head and huffed. “He’s not dumb enough for that.”

“No, you’re right.” You took a bite and almost moaned at the taste – Soonyoung’s mother had a knack for baked goods. “God, this is so good– Besides,” you quickly returned to the topic, “I think he might have been right last time.”

Jihoon’s brows furrowed. “What?”

“You know, the whole ‘you have to love yourself to be loved by someone else’,” you reminded him with a shrug. “I’ve been trying to do things for myself this week and it’s actually been so nice.”

“Things like what?” he wondered, grabbing a cinnamon roll as well.

“Well, the museum visit, for one. I got a text about it and thought ‘I don’t have anyone to take with me, but I might as well go for myself’, so I went and it was actually really nice,” you pointed out. “Freeing, in a way.”

He blinked. “I was literally with you the entire day.”

“You’re practically attached to me,” you joked with a dismissive wave of your hand. “It doesn’t count.”

“Your coffee’s ready!” Soonyoung appeared at the table with two cups. He placed one in front of you, keeping the other in a flimsy grip in his other hand as he did so. 

Before you could comment on it, the other cup dropped from his hand with a loud gasp and an apology.

“I’m so sorry,” Soonyoung was reaching for tissues before you could even comprehend what had happened. 

Then you felt your suddenly cold button-up shirt press and stick to your skin. Glancing down, you cursed under your breath and reached for a handful of tissues of your own, starting to dab away at the spots of coffee on your white shirt.

“Should’ve known something like this would happen,” you spoke through gritted teeth as Soonyoung’s lips kept spilling apologies after apologies. “This is why I never wear white.”

Jihoon sat frozen on his chair, wide eyes wildly switching between you trying to clean your shirt, and Soonyoung, practically on his knees, wiping the floor. Eventually, he settled on watching you.

Your desperate clean-up attempt soon slowed. It was no use. You didn’t possess the magic necessary to get an iced americano out of the white fabric. 

“Can I do anything…?” Jihoon asked softly.

“Nothing short of finding me a new shirt to wear,” you told him with a laugh that had no joy in it. You still had four hours of work left and you were certain your boss would have a word with you for the accidental dress code violation – wearing clean clothes was, after all, written in bold on the first page of the employee handbook.

He frowned. “I could give you my hoodie to cover-up?”

You perked up at the idea. “Would you?”

He snorted a laugh. “Is that really a question?” 

Without another word, he sat upright and pulled on the hem of his black hoodie, revealing a grey t-shirt under it. It took him a few seconds and some noises of struggling (that you suspected he only made to cheer you up), and then he handed the hoodie to you. 

It was warm to the touch and smelled like your best friend when you pulled it over your head. Your day was better immediately.

“It feels like a hug,” you mumbled without really meaning to.

Jihoon’s breath seemed to get caught in his throat at that exact moment. He coughed twice before humming, “You say the weirdest things.”

Thursdays are movie nights. No matter the situation, no matter your feelings, Jihoon and you would buy copious amounts of snacks and gather at either of your apartments to watch a movie together.

“We’re not watching The Lion King,” he declared while hauling your giant grocery bag up the stairs (he’d insisted it was easier to just stuff everything into a giant bag than to carry several bags; who were you to try and stop him?). “I don’t feel like crying today.”

“You never cry anyway,” you grumbled and supported the bag from underneath. There was just the tiniest tear in its side and you were growing wary. There was only one more flight of stairs to go.

He stopped and turned his head to glare back at you. “Are you suggesting I’m a monster? Who doesn’t cry during The Lion King?”

“You,” you supplied with an innocent smile and pushed at the bottom of the bag to urge him forward. “If you don’t want to watch The Lion King, then pick something better. I dare you.”

“Captain America.”

“I’m locking you outside,” you replied with a scoff. “You can sleep on the doormat, or maybe Ms. Kim will be merciful and give you one of her dog beds.”

“Can you stop acting like you don’t enjoy Marvel movies?” he wondered. “Or would that break your programming?”

As you arrived on your floor, you told yourself it was not worth the fight. You reached into your pocket to pull out the keys, ignoring Jihoon’s groans of exhaustion as you slowly and meticulously pressed the key into the hole. But when you began to turn it, the door handle tilted downwards and the door opened.

You blinked in surprise as Yoon Jeonghan gently ushered you out of the way so he could leave. He wore a pleasant smile as he opened the door wider to let you into your own apartment. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked when you found your voice again.

He shrugged. “Wanted to see if you had any of that good ramyeon.” When you lifted a puzzled brow, he victoriously held up three packets of your favourite ramyeon. “I’ll be taking these. Thank you for being such a good friend!”

While you searched for words to say, he rushed down the stairs. He was still in hearing range when your brain kicked into gear and you called out, “How’d you get inside?!”

“Stole Jihoon’s key!” came a joyous reply from three stories below. 

Beside you, Jihoon let out a loud groan of frustration, brows knitted and nose scrunched. “That son of a bi–.”

“I was looking forward to that ramyeon!” you whined and stomped into your apartment, pulling your best friend after you by the sleeve.

Lost in noodle-grief, you burrowed into the sofa cushions as he placed down the bag and began rummaging through the two drawers you had so kindly surrendered to him and his clothes. You watched as he closed the drawers with a defeated short hum and opened your closet instead. It didn’t alarm you – it hadn’t in years. 

“Why are your shirts so much nicer than mine?” he suddenly asked, pulling off his crispy black button-up shirt to replace it with your favourite white t-shirt.

Momentarily you were brought back to reality just to reply with a short and simple: “Because I actually pay attention to what I buy from the store?”

His head turned just to give you good-natured glare. It soon gave way to a mischievous smirk – one crafted to annoy you. “Why would I do that when I can just borrow your clothes?”

“One day I’m going to take away your closet privileges,” you lazily vowed. 

He stuck his tongue out. You always did bring the more mature side of him out.

As you turned on the TV – one that came with your studio apartment and would have been entirely useless if not for the movie nights –, Jihoon threw himself into the cushions next to you.

Taking advantage of your state of not-quite-being-there, Jihoon stole the remote. When you whined and tried to get it back, he laughed and pushed you away with his free hand. While you fought to get the remote, the TV began playing yet another Marvel movie. 

The opening credits began playing and you only knew it was Iron Man because he’d made you watch this movie a thousand times. You wanted to argue but the movie nights had one unbreakable rule: once a movie starts playing, there’s no changing it. 

“Seriously?” you groaned and threw your head back against the backrest of the sofa. 

Like the TV, the green sofa had also been in the apartment for as long as you knew. You had always thought it to be a rather cosy and perfect lounging spot. Slowly, however, you were realising it had its flaws, the worst one being that with Jihoon’s manspreading habit, there simply wasn’t enough space.

“Move,” you nudged his leg that was leaning too close to yours for comfort. “Hoon, you’re on my side of the sofa.”

He only nudged your leg back with a laugh. “Since when?”

“Since ten minutes ago,” you declared, pushing back harder. “And stop manspreading. That’s rude. You’re taking up all of the space.”

“Didn’t your mother teach you to be nice to guests?” he teased, leaning even closer with his whole body now until his chin rested on your shoulder. 

You found yourself pleasantly surprised by his warmth. It was cold outside, you reasoned with yourself, of course you were enjoying any warmth you could get your hands on. Besides, it wasn’t often that Jihoon burrowed this close to you. You were bound to find joy in his rare act of affection.

Your joy was short-lived though because it was only now that you noted (with slight to moderate annoyance) that he had stolen a coke from your fridge. You scoffed.

“You’re hardly a guest. A parasite is more likely.”

As more and more of his weight pressed onto you, you groaned in pain. He only laughed at your misery. 

“You steal my clothes. You steal my space. You use me as your personal cushion,” you counted. “Does your audacity have no limits?”

He paused, lips pursing as he thought for a moment. Then he smiled brightly. “No.”

It took all your strength to push him off you. He had the gall to giggle the whole way, and you soon found yourself laughing along with him. 

“You’re awful,” you told him with an affectionate grin. Your efforts of moving him were in vain and he happily rested his head on your shoulder, occasionally slurping his (formerly your) coke. You tried really hard not to think of how awfully domestic this position would’ve looked to a stranger.

“You’re not allowed to complain,” he eventually told you. “You’re the one that stole my hoodie yesterday.”

You gasped, appalled by his accusation. “You offered!”

“I was practically blackmailed,” he spoke loudly as if announcing it to a theatre of people. “What choice did I have?”

“Maybe I need to do this self-love journey just so I’ll have someone who actually loves me and isn’t faking it to be a drama queen,” you concluded with a theatrical sigh. 

Jihoon laughed and nudged your side. “No way. You’re stuck with me no matter what.”

And you appreciated that. You really did. But. There was always a but.

“How am I supposed to learn to love myself more anyway?” you wondered, leaning into the cushions as well as his warmth, angling your body to enjoy the benefits of both. “I socialised at Seungkwan’s party. I went to a museum. I feel like I love myself enough. What else can I do?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Something that says I’m unapologetically me,” you said thoughtfully, trying to think of something. You weren’t entirely sure it had anything to do with self-love. Really, it was probably more-so to avoid your loneliness on Valentine’s day. “Something I’ll enjoy but find a little challenging, so when I’m done with it I’ll feel pride.”

“You could order your own coffee for a change.”

Dreams shattered, you let out a scoff. “I would but you never let me.”

“Yeah,” he agreed readily, “you always get the same thing anyway.”

“Well, what if I wanted to try something different?”

“You snooze, you lose. Just be glad I pay for your lunch.”

“Thank you, daddy.”

Silence. Long and awkward (just how you liked it) as you watched his reddening face with a wicked grin. This is what he got for being mean and useless. Finally, he ran a rough hand over his face and declared, “That’s it. You can pay for your own lunch from now on.”

“Oh no, how will I live,” you bemoaned, fully aware that he’d never let you pay for your own meals. “I’m still open to ideas though. I need something to do.”

Jihoon offered a mocking smile. “Well, you didn’t like my idea, so–”

“Please,” you begged, tugging at his shirt with one hand. “Anything. Please. Tell me to read The Odyssey. To start a charity. To paint an overcomplicated mural–”

Clearly uninterested in the topic at hand, he cleared his throat and rubbed his hands together. “Is it just me or is it cold in here?”

Now that he mentioned it, your hands were feeling a little freezing. Just a bit. And your toes felt like they’d been on an ice block this whole time.  You frowned. 

“No, you’re right,” you realised and jumped up to check the thermostat. It proudly showcased the number 10. You hurriedly set it to a higher heat. 10 degrees was not enough to keep you alive, you feared. 

“Someone’s messed with my thermostat,” you told him as you returned to the sofa. “This old building gets cold so fast.”

Jihoon’s brows furrowed in thought. “You don’t think…”

“What?” you wondered, pressing closer to him in an effort to get warm again. The world off the sofa was far worse than you had anticipated and now you were forced to shiver as you waited for Jihoon’s natural warmth to reach you as well. You felt your eyes widen as the pieces clicked into place. “Jeonghan?”

“He was acting suspicious,” he confirmed as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, effectively pulling you closer. 

Though you found yourself wanting to purr in bliss, you told yourself he only did so because he felt sorry for you – you never were built for the cold climate. Making a mental note to fight Jeonghan the next time you saw him was the best distraction you had.

Minutes passed in silence, par the movie playing in the background. You weren’t sure either of you were focused on it. But the rule stood and neither of you dared to be the first one to break it. So you remained right there, in his arms, unable to think about anything other than your vengeance plan and Jihoon’s embrace.

It was warmer now. Whether it was the doing of your apartment’s heating or Jihoon holding you like you were his lifeline, you were too comfortable to contemplate. The soft chimes of dreamland were calling you now.

“You know,” Jihoon spoke, voice low and gravelly, “they say cuddling helps to preserve heat.”

You knew it was just a dumb excuse. You knew you should’ve poked his side and made a joke about him using you for his personal gain. But as you pressed your cheek against his chest and wrapped your arms around his frame just a little tighter, you forgot all about it. 

By the time you remembered to argue, you felt your eyes getting heavy and his heartbeat slowing down under your ear. 

You hadn’t disliked Seungkwan’s parties all that much last week or the week before that. But this was getting excessive – even Seungcheol had said so, but Seungkwan listened to no one. Seungkwan, you see, had a goal and no one could dissuade him from reaching it.

“I think at this point they have no choice but to crown him the party king,” Jihoon mused, once again sitting by your side on the sofa as the two of you watched the party host gloat about his impeccable party streak. “It’s quantity over quality.”

Taking a sip from your soda, you hummed in agreement. “If nothing else, they should crown him for all the effort alone. Have any of the others even planned any parties yet?”

“I think Seungcheol’s planning the Valentine’s day Party with Soonyoung.”

You nodded. “I’m definitely going to be sick for that one.”

“You’re going to have to pick a different excuse,” Jihoon pointed out with a chuckle. “You’ve pulled the flu excuse four times already this year. They’re getting suspicious.”

“Join me in becoming sheep farmers in Iceland?”

“If Seungkwan would find us in 14 days, Seungcheol would find us in half that,” he told you and you weren’t entirely sure he was joking. 

You sighed. “Do you have to ruin all of my dreams?”

He laughed and nudged your shoulder. It was only recently that you’d noticed how often he did that. You hadn’t seen him do it to his other friends, now that you thought about it. It was always him and you. Perhaps, you thought, you had finally discovered his love language.

You noted with glee that he did it again, this time so slightly you almost didn’t feel it. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?” you wondered, unable to think of anything you had done to warrant those words.

The room seemed to get brighter, lit up by a radiant magical glow, as his face broke out into a wide smile. “For staying sober with me. I think I’d go insane here if you didn’t.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic. You’d live,” you told him and took a sip of your cola as you surveyed the room, taking note of your friends’ antics. “I’m not entirely sure about the others, but you would live.”

He burst out laughing at your words as if it was the funniest joke in the world (it really wasn’t; you had elicited far colder responses to far funnier jokes but you appreciated the enthusiasm). “You’re probably right. But still,” he took a calming breath, a bright grin still on his face, “I’m glad to have you with me. I can’t imagine you have much fun sitting here with a sober me when you could be doing drunk karaoke with Joshua and Jihyo.” 

You were about to tell him there was no place you’d rather be when Vernon appeared from what you could only assume was the shadows and gave the two of you that blank helpless wide-eyed look of his. 

You and Jihoon sighed in unison.

“What is it this time?” he wondered, already adjusting his sleeves and flexing his fingers in preparation for whatever herculean task awaited him.

The reply was short and laconic. “The fridge is being weird.”

Jihoon offered you a look that told you he couldn’t have cared less about the decade-old fridge Jeonghan had wrestled out from some old lady’s hands at the second-hand store. It wasn’t his property. It had, in fact, absolutely nothing to do with him because he didn’t live here. 

“Just go,” you laughed and waved him away, earning a look of betrayal. “The child won’t leave you alone if you don’t help him.”

“I’m not a repair guy,” he told you with a mild glare before groaning once more and finally getting up. From his new higher vantage point, he could look right into your empty cup and roll his eyes as if he didn’t want to say the words he’d utter next: “I’ll get you a new drink while I’m gone.”

You sent him off with a grateful smile and a plan to conquer the space he’d left behind. Your feet would thank you for the gentle stretch of being rested on the sofa and you could already practically hear the odes they’d sing to you. But then, as fast as the spot beside you became empty, it immediately was filled again. 

“I’m sorry if this upsets you,” a girl you vaguely knew by the name of Yeonmi spoke as she slumped into the free space Jihoon had left, slurring her words, “but I’m going to marry him.”

You quirked a brow. “Who? Vernon?”

“No!” She pointed at your best friend. “Him! Jihoon!”

You suddenly wondered if you were hallucinating this entire interaction. You blinked once, and then once more, before turning your head to look. Certainly Yeonmi was drunk off her ass and had mistaken him for someone else! Or maybe you yourself were drunk – who’s to say Jeonghan hadn’t mixed vodka into the soda once again? He’d done it before, more than twice.

But then you saw: Jihoon stood at the kitchen aisle. Laughing at what appeared to be the funniest joke in the world, he passed bottles of water around for his drunk friends. One by one, they accepted their bottles with grateful glee and promises to never drink again. 

Then, whining something about how he’s not that drunk yet, Seungcheol tried to push the bottle away and your best friend’s grin morphed into a short-lived frown as he smacked him across the back of his head with the very same bottle and forced it into his hand. Just like that Jihoon’s smile returned as Seungcheol’s pout only pursed out more.

As you began to laugh at the scene, you suddenly remembered why you’d looked over in the first place. Brows furrowing, your head snapped to glare at Yeonmi once again. “You want to marry him?!”

You weren’t entirely sure why the idea irritated you as much as it did. Maybe Jeonghan actually had mixed something into the soda. You certainly had no other reason to be so irate by the concept of Jihoon marrying someone. 

“Absolutely,” Yeonmi mumbled, gaze stuck as if Jihoon was a beautiful mirage that would disappear if she took her eyes off of him. She took a sip of her cocktail, unaware of the scathing look of disapproval she was on the receiving end of. “Isn’t he just perfect?”

Fighting to keep your irrational temper in check, you took a deep breath. “Since when do you like him like that?”

“Today.”

“What?”

Yeonmi must have taken the growing volume of your voice for a sign of excitement because she quickly added, “I think we’ll get married tomorrow.”

“You can’t marry him,” you told her without as much as a scoff. It wasn’t a joke. It was not a threat. It was a clear-cut fact of life. To you it was anyway.

Finally, Yeonmi tore her attention away from him and stared at you, blinking her saddened puppy-dog eyes. “Why not?”

You didn’t have a reason. Not a very good one anyway. “You just can’t.”

“But I want to!” She continued pouting. You noted with glee that it was the alcohol talking. Sober Yeonmi would never do this to you. But sober Yeonmi was far gone – six beers deep gone. “Why can’t I marry him?”

Unfortunately, drunk Yeonmi was far less reasonable than you knew sober Yeonmi to be. You had to think long and hard about your words if you wanted to put this conversation to rest soon. “Because he–”

“Who’s marrying who?” Seokmin stumbled into the conversation and onto the sofa, settling right between the two of you like a rather ill-fitting puzzle piece. A drink in his hand, a backwards cap askew on his head, and a comically large tiger plushie under his arm (one you could practically hear Soonyoung already frantically searching for), he stared at you two in child-like excited wonder. 

You almost had a spark of hope – could this be your saving grace? your ticket out of this conversation that was irritating you for reasons outside of your comprehension? – until you realised that Seokmin was almost certainly just as drunk – if not more – as Yeonmi. You pinched the bridge of your nose and groaned.

“I’m marrying Jihoon,” Yeonmi declared all too proudly, her pout turning into a bright smile that could rival the sun. For a moment you found yourself almost bitterly thinking she was exactly the pretty kind of girl your best friend deserved. Then she just had to open her mouth again: “Tomorrow. I’m marrying him tomorrow, for sure.”

Her words were met with a dramatic gasp and a matching bright smile. “You are?”

“I am!”

“She’s really not,” you mumbled from where you’d been pushed against the armrest by their celebration.

Then Seokmin froze mid-squeal-of-joy. He slapped a hand over his mouth. He loudly whispered, “But you can’t!”

Yeonmi’s smile once again dropped. “Why not?”

“Because Jihoon’s (Y/n)’s boyfriend!” He told her with such conviction that you began to wonder if you had missed a major life event of your own damned life. 

You frowned. “We’re not–”

“Oh.” Yeonmi nodded solemnly. “You are right. I can’t believe I forgot that.” She paused before loudly whispering, “You know, I heard they’re actually married. Eloped in Vegas during spring break back in college.”

“I heard that one too!” Seokmin pointed out with inexplicable uncontained glee. “I heard he wrote a song and sang it to her at the proposal.”

“That’s so romantic,” Yeonmi swooned, smiling like it was the cutest news she’d heard all day. Her dreams of marrying Jihoon had disappeared just like that. 

But you felt like you were living in a nightmare.

“What are you guys talking about?” you cried out, watching them in astonishment and horror. “There’s nothing going on between us!”

“I mean,” Soonyoung joined in, leaning against the armrest like he’d been there all along, “you’re practically married, even if the elopement thing isn’t true.”

Yeonmi gasped. “It’s not?”

You ignored her.

“It’s okay if the spark goes out a little bit, you know what I mean,” Soonyoung attempted to explain? comfort you? Whatever he was doing, you wished he’d stop. “Relationships take work, you know.”

You felt your left eye twitch. “We’re not dating.”

This was news to your friends – if their wide eyes and dropped jaws were anything to go by, anyways. 

“But–” Seokmin started, slumping in his seat as if his whole world had shattered into pieces. “But you’re Jihoon and (Y/n). You’re practically always glued together.” 

“So? We’re friends. Best friends. You know this.”

“If what you guys have isn’t love, then what is?” he wondered, asking no one in particular it seemed. His gaze had frozen on the fairy lights taped to the ceiling. He looked close to tears and you decided you’d had enough of this and got up off the sofa. 

It had been a while since you’d been out on the balcony anyway. It was nice and quiet and away from your nosy friends who clearly could not wrap their minds around the possibility of two friends not dating. The fresh air bit at your nose but you decided it was better than facing them again. 

Looking out at the nightlife of the city below, your thoughts kept drifting back to what they said. Why had you felt so irritated at the idea of Jihoon being with someone else? He wasn’t yours to keep, as much as you liked to joke about it. He wasn’t your husband, he wasn’t your boyfriend, not even a friend with benefits. He was just Jihoon.

You were just you and Jihoon. That’s what it had always been. 

So why did the idea of being ‘just (Y/n) and Jihoon’ suddenly sent a rush of rage and insult up your spine? 

“(Y/n)?” a voice called out and you felt the subtle warmth of the apartment creep out through the opened balcony door. You turned to find Seungkwan standing right there, his kind eyes looking at you as if you were insane. “Aren’t you cold?”

“It was stuffy in there,” you excused yourself and turned back to stare over the railing.

He hummed in understanding but couldn’t stop himself from adding, “Could’ve just opened a window instead of standing out here without your jacket.”

You let out a short laugh. “I guess I wasn’t thinking straight.”

Warmth surrounded you, the feel of a soft knitted cardigan following soon after. “Better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“I’m a little surprised Jihoon hasn’t given you his sweater yet,” he noted under his breath as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted you to hear it or not. He cleared his throat and added louder, “Sorry, I’m sure you’ve heard enough of Jihoon today. Seokmin and Yeonmi are a lot, I know.”

You weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry. “You heard them?”

“I’m sure half the party heard them,” he told you as if it was obvious before his expression melted into something more compassionate. “Do you want to talk about it?”

It was hard to choose. So you stayed silent instead. Seungkwan seemed to decide that was a yes.

“You know, I think Jihoon holds you closer to his heart than he sometimes lets on,” he told you. “Most of us see through his facade by now, but sometimes I wonder if you’re still one of the few who can’t.”

Great. Exactly what you needed: a double dose of ‘I’m an awful friend’.

“You know that keychain you have? That little cat he whittled out of wood back in high school?” He chuckled to himself. “He spent a whole week making it, constantly texting the group chat if it was perfect yet. Perfect for what, we’d ask and he’d always say it was for you like it was the most obvious thing.”

He leaned against the railing with you. Just as soon as he did so, he cursed. Seungkwan stepped away almost immediately. His voice was suddenly much louder than before: “It’s so cold! Can you even feel your arms?”

A little dazed by the information you’d learnt, you shrugged. “I guess.”

“That’s it,” he decided and grabbed a hold of your arm before dragging you back inside against your will (not that you were complaining; you suddenly realised it was indeed very cold outside). “If you want to be cold, I can give you ice cream, but please stop trying to contact frostbite.”

You barely made it through the kitchen door before running into Jihoon. It was starting to feel like Seungkwan needed to find a bigger venue for his parties because you were clearly not able to find even a minute of peace here. 

“There you are,” he practically cheered at the sight of you, a wide grin breaking out on his face as if he hadn’t seen you in days rather than mere 20 minutes.

You were painfully aware of Seungkwan’s knowing smile as Jihoon handed you a cup of soda. You took a small cautious sip – it didn’t taste anything like alcohol. There went your accidentally tipsy theory. You let out a soft groan at the thought.

“You good?” he wondered, hand reaching out to pat your shoulder. “Soonyoung said you looked kind of upset.”

“I’m fine,” you said. It was a lie – at least it felt like a lie. You always did hate to lie to Jihoon. But what else were you supposed to say? “It’s just been a long day.”

If he caught onto your false narrative, he didn’t mention it.

It was 2 am and you couldn’t sleep. Your friends’ words kept echoing in your head and no amount of “we’re just friends” could keep them at bay. 

For a short moment, you almost reached out to him. Your fingers knew the path to Jihoon’s contact in your phone without you even thinking about it. It was only when your thumb hovered above the green call button that you realised what you were doing. 

You found yourself scoffing. Exactly was your plan? To text him? To call him and tell him…? Tell him what?

“Hey, Jihoon, I just wanted to let you know that Seokmin and Youngmi and probably half our friend group think we’re married or at least dating and, honestly, not even gonna lie, I think it suddenly made me realise I might be and have been for a while sort of, kind of, maybe just a little bit or maybe even very much in love with you. Thoughts?”

You didn’t exactly pride yourself in your ability to put together words (and you were certain Jihoon wouldn’t have cared much for it if you did), but even you knew you couldn’t tell him that. Certainly not at 2 am and definitely not after being his friend for so many years.

So you muted your phone, put on a ridiculously long historical movie you weren’t planning on paying any attention to, and found a tub of ice cream from the deepest crevices of your freezer. It was you against your demons now. You weren’t going to leave your apartment until you’d figured out how to look him in the eyes again.

Because Jihoon’s (Y/n)’s boyfriend. You’re practically married.

The voices kept echoing in your head like annoying little mosquitoes, sucking on your lifeforce. It was nothing short of irritating; not because you thought they were wrong, but precisely the opposite.

You sat on the sofa, head heavy with foreign thoughts. Foreign thoughts that weren’t all that unfamiliar at all – they’d been peeking their heads out every once in a while ever since high school. But you had always acted like they weren’t there: you brushed them aside, painted over them with other thoughts, and told yourself what you felt for Jihoon was just friendship.

Good old plain and very platonic friendship. Nothing else at all. 

Your heart fluttering every time he laughed at your jokes? Friendship.

Your breath getting caught in your throat every time you saw him without a shirt? Definitely friendship.

The ugly jealous feeling in your chest – the very one that took over your entire being when Yeonmi said she’d marry Jihoon? Friends get jealous all the time, don’t they? 

“They don’t,” the character on the TV said at that very moment, like a sign from the universe.

But you’re Jihoon and (Y/n). If what you guys have isn’t love, then what is? 

The voices kept on echoing. You squeezed your eyes shut and drowned your sorrowful realisations in stracciatella ice cream. 

Spoonful after spoonful, your brain numbed and froze. But the knowledge had sunk deep into the crevices of your very being and you knew that no matter what happened, one thing was true: nothing about your feelings for Lee Jihoon was platonic in the slightest.

Jihoon’s studio was a cosy and comfortable place. Dimly lit and full of his soft humming along to the songs he rarely let you listen to, it had become your safe space the day he showed it to you. 

Never once had you felt out of place in it. But when he invited you to come keep him company this evening, you found yourself hesitating at the door for the first time. 

It was as if you had forgotten how to act. 

Did the you who felt only platonic feelings for Jihoon ever knock? Did you simply burst through the door and throw your keychain at his head when he was too focused on his work to notice? Or did you just sit outside the door until he suddenly remembered he’d invited you over and come searching for you?

Had your heart always sped up, doubling its pace when you stood in the hallway? Had you always worried your hair was a mess? Surely you hadn’t. Suddenly you felt like a fool for putting on a lip stain.

You forced a deep breath of air into your lungs and knocked on the door. It immediately felt wrong.

The door opened seconds later. Jihoon greeted you with furrowed brows and an amused smile. “Since when are you so polite?”

You feigned a laugh. “Had to make sure you weren’t rotting away in your chair.”

He rolled his eyes. His hand reached out and wrapped around your wrist before swiftly pulling you inside. “Come on, you’re probably freezing. How long have you been standing there?”

Silence filled the room as he led you to the sofa. 

You realised under his confused gaze that the old you – the definitely-not-in-love-with-my-best-friend you – would’ve argued. You would’ve told him something silly to distract him from your tells of embarrassment. You would’ve shoved him and  he would’ve laughed. He had expected you to.

Making your lips curl into another smile that wasn’t quite sincere, you nudged him with your foot. “Did you miss me? Be honest.”

Another silence. You thought of how he should’ve snorted a laugh and told you “you wish” before turning to his computer and telling you about his woes as a music producer. Instead, he frowned.

“Are you okay?” he asked. 

Your mouth felt dry. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s just,” he started, scratching the back of his head all the while watching you cautiously. You felt like a cornered stray cat as  you sat on his sofa, still clad in your coat and hat. “You’ve been acting a little weird today.”

You wanted to laugh. You hadn’t even interacted with him enough for him to come to that conclusion. In fact, there had been a conscious effort to avoid him until you could trust yourself to look him in the eyes and not burst into ballads about how wonderful he was. 

“I guess I’m just a little under the weather.” You still despised lying to him, but you told yourself it wasn’t a complete lie. If nothing else, you were at least a little bit love sick and you weren’t entirely sure yet whether seeing him was the cause or the cure. 

His eyes blinked wide. “You’re sick?”

Jihoon waited a minute, watching you patiently (though you could see a line between his brows that only appeared when he was particularly frustrated). Then he walked forward. You blinked up at him standing over your seated form, his brows knitted with concern as he held the back of his hand to your forehead. 

“Do you have a fever?” he wondered and leaned his face closer on instinct, pressing his lips to your forehead like a mother would to her child. He pulled back before long, seemingly finally realising his error, and grumbled, “Definitely a fever.”

Right. A fever. You were hot to the touch. Definitely a normal reaction to seeing your best friend for the first time all day. Nothing abnormal about that. 

“It’s nothing,” you told him, still forcing a smile, and patted his hand. “What are you working on today?”

At the mention of his work, he seemed to perk up a little. His lips quirked in that way they always did when he was about to tell you a lie. “Nothing interesting.”

“I’ve known you for nearly two decades,” you told him with a scowl. “You can’t keep things from me.”

He scoffed and turned on his heel, returning to his usual seat at the desk. His eyes narrowed when he glanced back at you over his shoulder. “I’ll keep all the secrets I want from you.”

“No chance,” you teased, resting your head on your palm as you leaned forward against your knee. “You're practically transparent.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” he told you with a chuckle and turned to the screen. Before long, his headphones were on his head and his head was deep in the music again. 

You’d never felt like you didn’t belong in this room and you didn’t feel like it now either, even as your chest threatened to burst open with all of your doubts and feelings. Your coat slid off your shoulders and you settled down on the sofa.

The you from before would’ve unlocked your phone and watched something on it at an obnoxious volume just to annoy him (but had that ever really been the goal and not just a ploy to get his unwavering attention at any cost?), but you found yourself lost in your thoughts, overthinking every memory you had of him.

You thought back to how he always seemed to be pressed to your side on movie nights – giggling in your ear, repeating and mimicking the actors just to make you laugh, nuzzling his cheek against your collarbone like a cat showing his affection. 

You thought back to the late night calls and how they made you so giddy despite the fact that you desperately wanted to sleep; to the protective glares he gave any man that looked at you and how a shiver went up your spine every time he crossed his arms over his chest while doing so; to the shirts and sweaters of his that you had unapologetically stolen to keep warm at night and breathe in his scent.

As you watched him – his head bopping along to the beat you couldn’t hear, his lips pursed in an effort to not spoil the lyrics, his dark eyes flitting your way every so often –, you realised there was no room for doubts. There was nothing uncertain about your feelings for Lee Jihoon. 

All this time, you had loved him for his laughter and his jokes. You had loved him for his yelling and his tears. You had loved him for his melodic voice and his silly 3 am ideas. You had loved him for the warmth of his hands when he taught you to play the guitar and the fond disappointment in his eyes when you failed your driving test for the first time.

There was nothing you didn’t love about him.

Even now you noted with certain fondness that one side of his headphones was off his ear just enough so he could hear you and it made you love him all the more so. 

The only thing you didn’t entirely adore about this man was that he wasn’t yours.

His eyes found you again and he quirked a brow. “Why are you staring at me?”

“I think I just realised why I don’t like Valentine’s day,” you told him without thinking. It was silly. Of all the millions of things you could’ve told him, of all the possible insults and puns and jokes, you told him the vulnerable truth you had only barely just graped yourself.

Jihoon swiveled his chair to face you, suddenly intrigued. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

His raised both his brows this time, staring at you with interest. You didn’t shy away from eye contact – not now when you’d finally learnt to appreciate the shades of brown. You only smiled and watched him as he sighed in defeat and turned back to the computer.

“Fine, keep your secrets,” he mumbled under his breath.

You weren’t sure you had another option.

While you had always hated Valentine’s day, Seungcheol and Soonyoung loved it with their whole hearts. Who would’ve guessed that the two men who could strike fear in anyone’s heart with just a look were hopeless romantics?

After spending hours contemplating if you wanted to be present at this event at all, you arrived fashionably late. Why they had decided to hold the celebration the night before Valentine’s day was beyond you, even if it was the reason that finally convinced you to go.

Welcoming you into their house brimming with roses and heart-themed decorations, Seungcheol handed you a red paper rose at the front door and sent you on your way with a wink. 

“Jihoon’s in the kitchen,” he told you with a smirk that said he could see right through you. You hoped you weren’t as obvious to the others.

Taking your time to look around was just an excuse and it felt like everybody knew it. They gave you smiles and winks and claps on your shoulder as you passed them by with soft greetings. You couldn’t help but feel nervous.

Looking for distractions, you craned your neck to look at the decorations. Heart-shaped balloons of red and pink and white floated against the ceiling. They were surrounded by pink and white party banners hung between the walls, cut into triangles with little hearts drawn in the centre, little fairy lights wrapped around the strings keeping them together. The floor was covered in rose petals. If Seungcheol and Soonyoung knew anything, it was how to go all out (and the amazed yet annoyed look on Seungkwan’s face told you he realised it could cost him the competition).

As you walked through the crowd, you realised that for once the pinks and reds hadn’t filled you with frustration and anger and resentment. Instead, a strange feeling of bitter sadness filled your chest. The spot on your side felt empty even with tens of people pushing past you. Even when you were avoiding him, you missed him.

You decided there was no point in torturing yourself further. After all, you thought, wasn’t being by his side but never being able to call him yours torture enough?

True to Seungcheol’s word, you found Jihoon in the kitchen. And you quickly realised why people had been greeting you the way they did. A laugh threatened to bubble out of you at the sight.

Jihoon stood on the kitchen island, surrounded by countless bottles of beverages, singing into a wood spoon. Eyes heavy-lidded in a way you hadn’t seen them be since that one night he got drunk in an act of teenage rebellion in 11th grade, he swayed in his spot and sang love songs at the top of his lungs. 

You dreaded to think what Seungcheol and Soonyoung might think of his actions. But when you looked around you found that rather than trying to get him down, Soonyoung sat on the kitchen counter across from the island, a whisk in hand, harmonising. People came and went, getting their drinks, and loudly cheered the duo on but didn’t pay them much mind beyond that. Perhaps they didn’t realise how unusual this sight really was.

Their rendition of a Bruno Mars song came to an end to the sound of a drunken applause and a few shouts for an encore. Jihoon waved away the compliments, nearly knocking himself off balance in doing so. As he lifted the spoon to his lips to start another song, his eyes met yours. The spoon clattered to the floor and his body followed not much more gracefully. 

He called your name with such joy that you couldn’t help but smile and open your arms as he practically tackled you in a hug. His face pressed against your shoulder so tightly that you worried if he could even breathe. “You came!”

You didn’t have any words to tell him, still too baffled by the situation at hand. Your eyes found Soonyoung’s and you raised your brows in question. He only smirked and shrugged innocently before practically dancing out of the room.

Drunk words are sober thoughts they say. That is the only reason why you hardly drank at gatherings; not at all because Jihoon once smiled at you all pretty and told you he was glad he had at least one sober friend to keep him company. But it seemed that tonight he was too drunk to appreciate the sentiment.

“I think I’m drunk,” Jihoon mumbled after a while and pushed himself upright. You kept one hand on his shoulder to keep him from tilting further left than he already was. “But it doesn’t feel so bad.”

“You’re going to regret this tomorrow,” you told him softly and led him to sit down. 

Like an obedient puppy, he followed your command and sat on a chair, leaning his forearms on the back of it and his chin on the very top. His eyes watched you curiously as you found a glass and filled it with water. You held the glass out for him to take but he just stared at you with starry eyes.

“You look pretty tonight,” he finally uttered when you raised your brows in question. 

You frowned and pushed the glass closer to him, hoping he’d take the hint. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he told you, a smile appearing on his face but there wasn’t any humour in it. It was hard to tell what emotions he was trying to convey: happiness? fondness? adoration? Whatever it was, it was making you just a little flustered. And then he delivered the final plow: “You always look pretty.”

Your heart was positively working at three times– no, ten times its usual pace. You sucked in a shallow breath and nudged him with the glass again. This time he took it. 

“Since when do you drink anyway?” you asked to change the topic.

For once he answered the question and shrugged. “Soonyoung thought that maybe I should give it a try again. You know, with all the rejection and everything.” His gaze fell to the tiled floor as he mumbled, “It’s actually been kind of nice.”

“What rejection? Who would reject you?”

He laughed but it sounded bitter. “Who indeed?”

“Did you ask someone to be your Valentine?” you realised and it felt like someone was trying to carve out a piece of your heart. “And they said no?”

Jihoon scoffed and placed down the water. His hand reached for a different cup, full of liquor you could practically smell from all the distance away. As he lifted the cup to his lips, he spoke, “What’s the point of asking if they’re going to say no anyways?”

The room felt hotter than usual. You could hardly breathe. You hadn’t even known Jihoon liked someone. Of course you had to find out merely days after coming to terms with your own feelings for him. Your love life was cursed and so was everything related to Valentine’s day.

You stayed silent to mourn the reality.

“You know what’s the worst part?” he then spoke again. It was hard to tell how drunk he was because he was hardly slurring his words. “I see her every day. Well,” he frowned, “almost every day. Whatever.” He shook his head and took a long sip of the drink. “Every day I see her and every day I think today is going to be the day I finally tell her. And then I don’t. Because I’m just her friend. She’s spent all those years telling everyone we’re just friends and I don’t want to be just her friend. I want so much more. But every time I try to tell her so, I chicken out.”

You could hardly listen to his proclamations. Your eyes were burning, ready to shed silent tears. You wondered if he’d even notice if you did cry. The Jihoon in front of you was a side you hadn’t seen before and you loved him just the same, even if this side was reserved for another woman.

Finally lifting his head, his eyes found yours. They widened. “Are you okay?”

Turning away to discreetly rub the tears out of your eyes, you nodded. “Yeah, sorry. Must be allergic to something in the air. Maybe it’s all the pollen.”

When you turned back to him, he looked almost deflated. He looked down again and ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe you’re just allergic to me.”

The tears seemed to vanish at the absurdity of his words. “... What?”

He shrugged. “Every time I say something nice to you, you start acting all weird. Avoiding me. Sometimes I think that if I confessed to you, you’d die on the spot.”

Whatever Soonyoung had been making him drink had to be incredibly strong. Every sentence he uttered seemed more absurd than the one before.

“I should get you home,” you decided with a sigh, resisting the urge to tug your hair out. Just because he was drunk didn’t mean he could play with your feelings like this – knowingly or not.

He whined. “I don’t want to–”

“You’re drunk, Jihoon,” you told him firmly. “If you drink any more tomorrow, you’ll murder me in the morning for letting you get this hungover.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes and glared at you before pouting and looking away. “As if I’d ever hurt you.”

“You’re drunk and you’re not making any sense and I’m taking you home to sleep,” you repeated yourself and reached for his arm. You expected him to resist your strength as you pulled him up but instead his hold on your fingers tightened. He stood up and leaned forward, resting his forehead against your shoulder.

“I don’t want to go home yet,” he told you after a moment of resting. “Can we just nap somewhere?”

You didn’t have the willpower to fight. The little you had, he had shattered without meaning to. You went to hook your arm around his elbow – he didn’t let you, only tightening his hold on your fingers. 

Without much of a choice, you squeezed his hand and slowly led him to a guest room. Seungcheol and Soonyoung’s house had two of these, one on the first and one on the second floor. For a moment you headed towards the one on the first floor. Then your heart ached just a little and you decided you needed to get away from the people to let your heart break in peace.

The second floor guest room had floor to ceiling windows covered with white curtains. The streetlights shone through at an angle that you knew would annoy you if you tried to fall asleep. You suspected that’s why they had designated it for guests rather than sleeping here themselves.

You practically shoved Jihoon onto the mattress to avoid any further complications. Instead of grumbling like you expected him to, he fell down with a series of giggles. You couldn’t help but smile.

There was a single fleece-lined blanket folded on the foot of the bed. You placed it over him with care. When you went to turn around and find a place to sit – or maybe even go back downstairs to drown your sorrows in wine –, his hand shot up and grabbed a hold of yours.

“Stay,” he spoke so softly you almost thought you hadn’t heard him right. “Stay with me. Don’t leave. Please.”

“I was just going to sit down,” you told him gently, trying to pull your hand free. 

He let out a whine. “See? This is what I mean. You’re allergic to me.”

Exhaustion was making your head ache. Or maybe it was all the tears that were waiting to be shed. You didn’t have the energy to fight, so you sank down next to him, crawling to fit under the blanket with him. “Just go to sleep.”

His hand never left yours as he curled it to rest against his chest and placed his heavy head on your chest. Silence filled the room. You didn’t dare breathe – who knew when you could have him this close again without feeling guilty or angry at the fates?

Minutes passed. You thought he’d fallen asleep when he whispered, “When other guys flirt with you or smile at you or tell you you’re pretty, you smile and thank them. When I do that, you avoid me.”

You wondered when the topic had shifted from his mystery crush to you. 

“Because we’re friends.”

“There it is again,” he mumbled, glaring at the ceiling as if willing it to crumble and rain down on him. “Friends.” The word sounded like venom. “I pour my heart out to you, I write songs to you, I dream of you every time I fall asleep, but that’s all I ever am. A friend.”

“It’s never bothered you before.” You frowned. Despite his harsh tone, you found yourself playing with his hair, and him leaning into your touch. 

He let out a deep breath. “Because I’ll do whatever it takes to be with you.” His head nuzzled closer to you, his breath tickling your skin. You thought you felt his warm lips press down before he whispered, “The other guys will have to go through me if they want you for themselves. I found you first.”

Silence filled the room again, soon accompanied by his soft snores and mumbles of promises he wasn’t conscious enough to actually make. You weren’t sure you could sleep now or ever again, too busy putting the puzzle pieces together.

His words had mangled your heart in every way possible. And yet there was a glimmer of hope as you wondered what he’d meant by his words. 

Drunk words are sober thoughts they say and now you found yourself wondering how much truth there was to his words. 

He whispered your name in his sleep and you found yourself giving in to the wistful dreams of that being his truth. As you pulled him closer, you prayed you wouldn’t have to wake up to another heartbreak.

If you had thought the streetlights at night were a curse last night, then now you found yourself thinking that any and all kinds of outside light had been invented just to make whoever inhabited this room as miserable as possible.

The morning sun shone right into your eyes even through the curtains at 6 am. Even if you hadn’t spent the entire night in a restless limbo between sleep and trying to solve the mystery of Jihoon’s words, you would've been upset to awaken to the horrid rays of bright sunshine.

The more you woke up, the more your world seemed to be upside down. Sometime at night, Jihoon’s arms had wrapped around you, tight and secure as they held you close to his chest. His lips were pressed to your temple. You almost wished he’d never wake up so you could enjoy this embrace for an eternity.

But another part of you didn’t want to face the disappointment of him jerking away from you as he’d wake up, embarrassed to have ever cuddled you in his sleep.

You took a deep breath and slowly tried to detangle yourself from his limbs. Finger by finger, you pulled yourself free. You were just about to roll off his left arm when it suddenly curled and effortlessly pulled you back into his chest.

When you looked at him, Jihoon wore a frown and a pout. “You were supposed to stay.”

“I did,” you whispered, unsure if he was really awake yet or not. 

“Stay longer,” he demanded almost childishly, wrapping his newly free arm around you once again. “It’s still early.”

Your brain was trying hard to convince you that he thought you were someone else. Then he mumbled your name again and you saw his eyes slowly flutter open. Instead of pulling away and apologising like you expected him to, he offered you a smile. 

“What?” He chuckled, voice gravelly from sleep. 

You hesitated. But you knew that if you didn’t get answers, you’d drive yourself insane. “Do you…” You swallowed. “Do you remember what you said last night?”

His brows furrowed just a little but his lips remained in a pleasant smile. “About what?”

“About the girl who you’ve wanted to ask out for years but never did,” you supplied softly. “And about us being friends?”

The joy melted from his face. His eyes wavered. His lips quivered. He gave them a nervous lick before practically gasping for air. He remembered.

You tried to choose your words carefully, you really did. But they still came out all clumsy like they always did. “Is the girl me?”

He looked like he’d been caught in a crime. But his arms remained around you – you wondered if he was filled with the same selfishness you’d felt the night before: the urge to enjoy this feeling of closeness before it could get ripped away forever.

“How’d you know?” he whispered. 

“You said something last night,” you told him carefully. “Something that made me realise that maybe you feel … the same way as I do.”

He avoided your eyes, looking around the room. Then his gaze snapped back to you, suddenly full of clarity. “The same way?”

This was it, you realised. It was now or never. It was true love or losing your best friend. Except you weren’t sure you could still be friends even if you didn’t pour your heart out – could you look him in the eyes again and not think about the words he said last night? 

“Jihoon, I think–” The words were on the tip of your tongue, clinging to it like it was their last lifeline. It was hard to say what you wanted to.

His face, so devoid of joy just moments before, had lit up with hope. “Yeah?”

“I think I’m in love with you. I thought I could keep it a secret and not ruin our friendship,” you told him through nervous laughter, turning to look at the ceiling, “but now I’m not so sure I could have.”

“What made you change your mind?” he wondered as he looked at you with nothing short of awe. 

“When you were talking about that girl last night,” you were still struggling to breathe, adrenaline pumping through your veins, “I was so heartbroken. I was going to cry all through the night. Then you said something that made me think… It made me think, or maybe foolishly hope, that you meant me. Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Did you mean me–?”

“I love you,” he replied before you could even finish your sentence. A smile appeared and you were filled with relief as he leaned his head closer to press against yours. “I’ve been in love with you since 7th grade. I thought I’d never get to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you demanded to know.

His breath sounded more like a hopeless laugh. “I didn’t want to lose you. I thought there was no way you’d love me back.”

“Clearly you were wrong.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled and surged forward to press a gentle kiss to your lips as if he couldn’t contain himself any longer. You savoured the feeling, pressing closer to him, tugging him closer with a hand on the back of his head. He pulled back and laughed again. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

“Good thing you can do it again as many times as you please,” you told him with a smile. “You know, I’ve always hated Valentine’s day, but you have a real shot at changing that right now.”

The door burst open just as he matched your grin and began to lean closer. Startled, the two of you looked up. Clad in a tiger-striped onesie, Soonyoung stood at the door, eyes wide. Moments of awkward silence passed. Then his face broke out into a wide grin and he slammed the door shut. You heard the lock click just a second later, followed by an almost villainous laughter.

You exchanged startled looks with Jihoon. Then he shrugged and leaned forward to kiss you again.

“All the more time to make up for the lost years,” he told you as he pulled you closer. “Happy Valentine’s day.”

Author's Note: I both loved and hated writing this fic. If at any point, you found yourself thinking "huh, i wish the writer did more with this random crumb in this story that looks like it should've been a part of something bigger", i can almost guarantee you i had plans to do something with it and then forgot or abandoned the idea mid-way through.

Either way, I hope you enjoyed this fic at least moderately and if you did, please feel free to reblog with comments or leave an emoji-filled reply or maybe even send me an ask to let me know what you thought!

[lyrical-sorrows]

Growing up and realizing that it wasnt normal for parents to take away their childs only hobbies as a punishment put a lot in perspective for me.

I’m talking my sketchbooks, my reading books, everything I cared about in a way that was a significant occupier of time that wasnt school related.

When ever I asked why it would always be “Your failing a class because of these things that dont matter that much…..” when in reality I was struggling in school because school was my only reprieve from home where I would be belittled, mocked, didnt have my own space to sleep or do home work…….

Then I see posts like this and I go, I can’t fathom parents respecting their childs agency like this……and realize I was in fact abused……

I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.