#a side note. i feel like none of it mattered.

[pixiefelixie]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ CIAO: chapter 1

do read the series masterlist warnings before proceeding!!

pairing: idol!hyunjin x actress!reader warnings: 17k words (geez..), ex-flings to lovers, EXTREMELY slice of life, fake dating au, angst, fluff, swearing, slow (fast?) burn, predatory behavior (sangwoo), terminal illness (suho), mentions of drug-dealing, references to past sexual intercourse important notes: The content of this work is purely fictional and is not intended to endorse or encourage any behavior that may be deemed inappropriate or unsafe. This story is created solely for entertainment purposes and should be understood as fiction. Reader discretion is advised.

first chapter’s finally here 🥹💗 thank you SO much for being excited when i announced this series, it genuinely means the world to me. this chapter is definitely more of a slow build (relationships and everything that leads to the fake dating) but just hold my hand and hang in there 🫶

death doesn’t always come all at once. sometimes, it creeps in slowly—so slowly you don’t even notice it at first. like a dimming lightbulb flickering in intervals, a dying battery that still clings to life. you pretend you don’t see the way it fades. because acknowledging it means admitting that soon, there will be nothing left.

hyunjin swallowed down that thought as he stepped through the entrance of the building, the automatic doors gliding shut behind him. the security guard at the front barely spared him a glance—he’s been here enough times for them to recognize him now. three visits in a week. not enough for a pattern, but enough to make him feel like a ghost haunting the same place over and over again.

he adjusted his mask, pulling his cap lower as he made his way to the elevators. the hallway was quiet, the only sound was the faint hum of the city outside. he pressed the button. the doors slid open.

hyunjin stepped inside, watching the numbers climb as he ascended. the mirrored walls reflected the exhaustion on his face, the tension in his shoulders. he ignored it. instead, he exhaled a quiet breath and closed his eyes, counting the seconds until the doors opened again.

when they did, he was greeted by a familiar sight—the luxury apartment that still didn’t feel as grand as it should. the space was vast, sleek, polished. but it was empty in the ways that matter.

and in the center of it all, sprawled on the couch with a lazy smirk, was suho.

“you look like shit,” suho said, blunt as ever.

“wow, thanks,” hyunjin muttered.

“i mean it. you need sleep. and probably therapy.”

hyunjin sighed and leaned back against the couch. “yeah, well. my schedule is full.”

“make room,” suho said, then smirked. “or i’ll haunt you when i die.”

hyunjin pretended to kick him, stopping just short of his shin. “shut up.”

suho just laughed, like none of this was real. like they weren’t sitting in the middle of a countdown neither of them could stop.

hyunjin wished he could pretend as easily. 

suho had been his friend long before he ever knew what an idol trainee was, before his life turned into an endless cycle of rehearsals, cameras, and exhaustion. elementary school, back when suho was just a cocky little brat who thought he was better than hyunjin because he was three months older. and boy, did he milk that fact for all it was worth.

“i was born first, which means i’m smarter, stronger, and infinitely cooler than you,” suho had declared at age eight, shoving a lollipop into his mouth like some kind of smug kingpin.

suho smoked too early, drank too much, partied too hard. and yet, somehow, hyunjin always found himself trailing after him, grumbling about suho’s bad habits but never leaving his side. because for all their differences, they were the same where it mattered. they would wrestle like ten-year-olds one second and then fall asleep tangled up on the couch the next, no questions asked.

hyunjin had always thought of suho as a shooting star—reckless, brilliant, burning too fast but impossible to look away from. suho always knew how to slip out of trouble, even in the most desperate situations—whether it meant sweet-talking his way out or, when all else failed, making a mad dash and vaulting over a fence like his life depended on it. 

and hyunjin was just the kid running after him, watching in awe, trying to keep up but never quite catching hold. because suho was untouchable like that.

unruly, magnetic, bigger than life.

but now, sitting here in this too-clean apartment, hyunjin wasn’t watching a shooting star anymore. he was watching a candle flicker, its light softer, weaker—still warm, still bright, but undeniably fading.

and hyunjin didn’t know what scared him more: the fact that suho was dying, or the fact that, for the first time ever, he couldn’t outrun it.

suho reached for the iv stand beside him, nudging it toward the corner where the couches met to make space for hyunjin. the faint rattle of the wheels echoed through the quiet apartment. hyunjin lowered himself onto the cushions beside him, exhaling as he pulled down his mask and tossed his head back against the couch.

almost instantly, a tiny ball of energy launched itself at his feet. suho’s chihuahua. the dog’s paws scrabbled at hyunjin’s legs, tail wagging furiously.

a small chuckle escaped hyunjin, his eyes creasing at the corners as he reached down, ruffling the soft fur. he let the dog’s excited licks soak into his skin, a warm distraction from the cold pit in his stomach.

“your parents are doing me a huge favor by taking him in,” suho murmured, voice quieter now. “make sure you thank them for me.”

hyunjin’s fingers stilled against the dog’s fur. he swallowed, the weight of those words pressing against his ribs. “…of course.”

suho shifted beside him, reaching over to scratch between his dog’s ears. their hands bumped together lightly. the touch was brief, but it was enough for hyunjin’s gaze to flicker down—to the bruised skin stretched over suho’s knuckles, to the thin tube buried deep in his hand.

“you know, he likes you more than me,” suho chuckled once the chihuahua disregarded him.

hyunjin smirked. “everyone likes me more than you.”

suho rolled his eyes, but hyunjin barely noticed—his gaze had drifted to the little dog in his arms, memories creeping in.

they had decided to get long-haired chihuahuas in high school—one of the rare times hyunjin had given suho an idea instead of the other way around. hyunjin had already had kkomi, his tiny black shadow, his comfort through everything. and when she was gone, he had never cried so hard.

a few months later, when suho had wanted a dog, bokki came along—named after suho’s favorite street food, with a funny meaning in japanese that suho was always proud of. at the same adoption center, hyunjin got kkami. their dogs had been just like them: always fighting, always in each other’s space.

soon, suho’s dog would live with kkami.

and hyunjin wasn’t ready for what that meant.

“i wonder what the little guy will think when i’m gone,” suho whispered.

the air thinned. hyunjin’s throat tightened as a lump he hadn’t even noticed lodged itself deeper. and just like that, the pain returned.

not the kind that came from overworking in the practice room, from sore muscles and exhaustion that could be stretched out and shaken off. this was different. this was the ache that settled in his stomach every day, the nausea that made food taste like cardboard, the weight on his chest that kept him staring at the ceiling long after the world had fallen asleep.

the kind of pain that never left.

suho leaned back against the couch, exhaling sharply as if the weight of his own words had stolen his breath. then, as if flipping a switch, he smirked.

“maybe i should leave him something in my will,” he mused, scratching behind the chihuahua’s ear. “like my rolex collection. or my stock shares. what do you think, hwang?”

hyunjin’s jaw tensed. he knew suho did this on purpose—used humor like a shield, like a wall neither of them was allowed to climb over. but tonight, it wasn’t working. not when his breathing sounded just a little more labored than the last time hyunjin visited.

hyunjin felt it creeping up again—that familiar sting, the slow, suffocating tightness in his throat. it always came before or after he visited suho, never during. he had learned to time it, to swallow it down in the elevator or let it drown him in the silence of his own apartment. but today, it was here. right in front of him.

his vision blurred at the edges, chest tightening like someone had wrapped a fist around his ribs and squeezed.

suho must have noticed because his smirk dropped instantly. “hey, hey—hyunjin,” he said, voice sharp despite its rasp. “none of that.”

hyunjin blinked rapidly, willing the tears back, but it was useless. his body had already betrayed him, his shoulders trembling under the weight of something he didn’t know how to hold.

suho groaned dramatically, throwing his head back against the couch. “god, you’re so embarrassing. crying before i even flatline? have some dignity, man.”

hyunjin let out a choked, watery laugh, pressing the heel of his palm against his eyes. “you’re—” his voice broke. he inhaled shakily. “you’re such a dick.”

suho grinned. “i know. that’s why you love me.”

hyunjin didn’t respond. couldn’t. because yeah, he did. and it fucking hurt.

suho leaned his head back against the couch, exhaling slowly. his fingers drummed absentmindedly against his thigh, and for a moment, the room was quiet except for the faint hum of the machine.

his voice cracked as he finally spoke, barely above a whisper. “how are you… okay with this?”

there was a long silence, the kind that settled in a room when words felt too heavy, too real. hyunjin’s chest felt hollow, the questions stuck in his throat, unanswered. he wanted to scream, to shake suho, to force him to feel what he was feeling.

“i do what i can to make it hurt less.” suho murmured, his voice quieter than usual, but steady. “i tell myself this was all well expected, well deserved.”

suho tilted his head slightly, his eyes drifting toward the ceiling. 

“i mean, think about it. i made money off people destroying themselves. gave them poison, didn’t care as long as the cash kept coming.” suho chuckled darkly. “now my own body’s turning on me. call it karma, a punishment, whatever you want. makes sense, doesn’t it?”

hyunjin’s chest tightened all over again, but this time, it wasn’t from grief—it was anger.

“that’s so stupid,” he snapped. “you really believe that?”

suho’s lips twitched, not quite a smile. “it makes me feel better. i’d rather think i earned this than accepting life’s just that cruel.”

hyunjin shook his head, eyes fierce. “you didn’t earn this. i don’t care what you did. it’s not fair.”

suho exhaled slowly, studying him. “i get why you see it that way. you’re a good person, hyunjin. you want things to make sense in a way that doesn’t hurt more than it already does.”

“and you think you’re not a good person?”

suho shrugged, shifting slightly. “good people don’t deal drugs for a living.”

hyunjin couldn’t believe what was coming out of suho’s mouth. hyunjin had always believed suho was the best person he knew. good people took care of others, took care of dogs, made sure no one was left alone. that was suho.

he swallowed hard, but the words kept coming, like a dam breaking open. “you’ve been there for me. you’ve always been there, suho. you’re not some... some monster because of the mistakes you made.” his voice cracked, but he kept going. “i’ve known you long enough to know that for sure.”

suho stared at him, something unreadable passing through his eyes. then, a small smirk. “that’s sweet,” he said. “almost makes me want to believe it.”

“then believe it.”

suho went quiet for a beat before laughing softly. “damn, you’re getting good at these motivational speeches.”

hyunjin rubbed his eyes. “shut up.”

suho grinned. “seriously. ever thought about ditching the idol thing and giving ted talks on how to gaslight your dying friends?”

hyunjin shoved his shoulder. “oh my god.”

suho snickered, then softened. “thanks, hyunjin,” he murmured.

hyunjin blinked, confused. “for what?”

“for arguing with me.”

and in that moment, hyunjin realized just how much that simple thank you meant. fighting, even if it was just over the dumbest things—was how they both kept showing up for each other. it was how they made sure they cared. they didn’t need the grand speeches or perfect gestures. they never had. maybe that was what love really was, in its rawest form. 

hyunjin loved suho. he just didn’t know how to deal with it, not when it felt like time was running out, and not when everything was so damn unfair.

hyunjin exhaled. “anytime.”

admiration doesn’t always feel safe. sometimes, it’s the most terrifying thing in the world.

it starts subtly—so subtly that you convince yourself it isn’t real. a hand lingering just a second too long. a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. the way he says your name like it belongs to him.

everyone loves him. they call him charming, a legend, someone you should be grateful to work with. they praise his experience, his talent, his ability to make every scene feel real.

maybe that’s why no one notices when he blurs the lines.

the bright lights glared down, hot against your skin, but the chill running down your spine has nothing to do with temperature.

you sat at the sleek office desk, hands folded neatly in front of you, the perfect image of the polished, ambitious character you play. across from you, he leaned back in his chair, oozing effortless confidence, the same one he’s used for years to charm everyone in his path.

“you’re avoiding me,” he said, voice smooth.

“i’ve been busy, il-seong.”

“i didn’t realize you were so busy that you couldn’t spare a minute for me,” he continued, lacing his voice with an undertone of clear disappointment. 

“cut!” the director’s voice rang out, sharp and impatient. you barely had time to exhale before he was waving a hand in frustration. “sangwoo, great work. you’re making it feel so natural.”

sangwoo shot you a smile, like he knew what was coming next.

the director sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “y/n, loosen up. you’re too stiff.”

your throat tightened. you nodded. 

"y/n, shake it off. we’ll run it again when you’re not acting like a mannequin." the director finally said, waving a hand dismissively.

you nodded again, throat dry.

as soon as you stepped off set, you made a beeline for the bathroom. the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as you gripped the edges of the sink, breathing hard. the cool porcelain felt solid beneath your fingers, grounding you, but it did nothing to stop the nausea creeping up your throat.

you looked up.

the mirror reflected someone who wasn’t you. your costume—sleek, professional, pristine—felt like a second skin you couldn’t shed. your lipstick was still perfect, your hair in place, but you felt grimy, like something sticky clung to your skin no matter how much you tried to shake it off.

you turned on the faucet and let cold water run over your wrists, hoping it would wash the feeling away. it didn’t.

a sharp creak from the door made your stomach drop.

you didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

sangwoo.

he leaned against the doorway like he belonged there, like this was his space too. his lips curled into that familiar smirk, the one that made everyone melt on camera—but off-screen, it made your pulse hammer in your throat.

“you okay?” he asked, voice laced with something that wasn’t quite concern.

you swallowed hard. “i’m fine.”

he hummed, stepping closer. not enough to touch, but enough that the space between you shrank, enough that his cologne curled around you, thick and suffocating.

“i know it’s hard, playing this kind of role,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly. “all that tension, all those emotions. it can feel… real.”

your nails dug into your palm.

sangwoo’s gaze flickered to your lips, lingering just a second too long before meeting your eyes again. “you should let me help you loosen up.” his lips curved into an innocent smile.

the words slithered down your spine, cold.

you forced a breath, forced yourself to stand tall even as every instinct screamed at you to run.

his fingers tapped against the sink beside you—just a small sound, barely there, but it made your pulse jump. “we should run lines later. in private,” he mused. “after all, chemistry isn’t something you can just fake.”

the words slithered into your ears, slick and unwelcome.

you wanted to throw up.

sangwoo let the silence stretch, watching you, waiting, drinking in the way your breath came a little sharper, the way your shoulders tensed. he liked this—pushing, pressing, testing just how much he could get away with.

he exhaled through his nose, amused. “i bet if you just relaxed a little, you’d—”

“don’t,” you said, voice quiet but firm.

sangwoo’s smile didn’t falter. if anything, it stretched wider, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring the moment. like he was enjoying this.

his tongue flicked out, wetting his lower lip as he let out a soft chuckle. “don’t?” he echoed, as if the word was foreign to him. as if it amused him. 

he knew he’d gotten to you. and he liked it.

just then, the door creaked open.

sangwoo moved fast—so fast it made your head spin. his smirk vanished, replaced by something softer, something concerned. in an instant, his entire posture shifted, all casual arrogance melting into the perfect image of a supportive co-star.

"hey," he murmured, voice gentle now, warm and understanding. his hand landed on your arm. “i know it can be overwhelming."

you barely had time to react before the crew member stepped inside.

"everything okay?"

sangwoo turned to them, his expression all worry. "yeah, y/n just needed a second." he shot you a reassuring smile, like he was the one steadying you. like he wasn’t the reason your stomach was twisted in knots.

the crew member nodded, glancing at you. "need more time?"

your mouth was dry. you wanted to scream, to tell them to look closer, to see past the performance. but too bad sangwoo was an actor. and a darn good one at that.

so you forced a smile, even as your pulse pounded in your ears. your response was one that you gave way too many times. 

"no, i’m fine."

when hyunjin woke up, his body felt like lead, heavy and unmoving, as if the mattress had swallowed him whole overnight. his mouth was dry, his tongue rough against the roof of his mouth like sandpaper. he swallowed, but it didn’t help. his throat ached, tight and parched, like he’d been breathing in dust for hours.

the blinds were cracked just enough for a sliver of morning light to creep through, but even that felt dull. muted grey. cold. it stretched across the floor, reached toward his desk, but failed to bring any real warmth.

he knew what he needed when the world felt washed out. 

with a groan, he forced himself to move, peeling away from the bed like his limbs were made of stone. his feet hit the floor, cold against his skin, but he barely felt it. his hoodie from last night lay crumpled at the foot of the bed, and he grabbed it, pulling it over his head as he trudged toward his desk.

he sniffed, rubbing his nose as he sat down. the chair creaked, the sound almost too loud in the stillness.

he needed color.

his fingers hovered over his sketchbook before flipping to a blank page. he reached for his pencils—he didn’t feel like dealing with paint, not today. 

he started with blue, pressing the tip against the paper in rough, uneven strokes. then red. then yellow. the colors bled into each other, but instead of vibrancy, they just looked… dull. off. like someone had sucked the life out of them before they even reached the page.

he frowned. his grip on the pencil tightened as he tried again, layering color over color, but nothing looked right. the shading felt flat. the lines looked wrong. it was stiff, lifeless.

his chest squeezed, frustration curling hot in his throat.

hyunjin exhaled sharply and dropped the pencil, running a hand across his head before gripping the back of his neck. he stared at the half-colored page in front of him, a mess of shapes and lines that failed to form anything meaningful. his fingers twitched, the urge to crumple the paper into his palm almost unbearable, but he let out another slow breath instead.

with another sigh, he let the pencil clatter against the desk and wiped his fingers on his sweatpants. when he leaned over to grab his phone from the nightstand, the screen lit up instantly, illuminating his face in the dim room.

and then—a flood.

[12 missed calls]

[50+ unread messages]

a sharp pull in his stomach.

his thumb hovered over the screen for a moment before he clicked on felix’s name. out of everyone, felix felt the safest. the least likely to send him into a full-blown paragraph before he was even awake enough to process it.

the chat opened instantly.

[8 am] felix 🐥:

i don’t know if you’ve seen it yet, but i figured you should.

i’m here, okay? whatever happens.

below his messages was a link to a social media app. hyunjin’s throat went even drier than before.

he hesitated, fingers tightening around his phone before finally tapping it.

the app loaded sluggishly, his wi-fi dragging just enough to prolong the dread curling in his chest. and then, the post filled his screen.

three pictures.

all of him.

different nights, but the same place—right outside suho’s building.

hyunjin’s stomach turned to stone. he recognized each one instantly. the first was from last week. the second, three days ago. the most recent, just last night—his cap tilted low, hands stuffed deep in his pockets.

the pictures alone were bad enough. but beneath them, a long blog-style post stretched down the screen.

his eyes darted over it, catching pieces in a haze.

“i walk along this path every night on my way home from work. it’s usually quiet, just office workers or the occasional resident.”

“the first time i saw him, i wasn’t sure. hwang hyunjin? from stray kids? leaving that luxury apartment building? but then it happened again. and again.”

“i wasn’t going to say anything at first. i needed more proof, more pattern. no one goes to the same high-end building this often without a reason.”

“private clubs exist in places like that. so do exclusive parties. you know what i mean.”

“thoughts?”

the last word made his skin prickle.

his lips parted, but no sound came out. his fingers were ice cold, gripping the phone so hard his knuckles ached.

it wasn’t just speculation anymore. this was the kind of post that spiraled. the kind people latched onto, twisting into something bigger, uglier.

and it was working.

his breath came shallow, heart hammering against his ribs as he scrolled back to his notifications.

chan’s messages. the company chat.

he swallowed hard and opened chan’s first.

[6:50 am] chan hyung 🐺: 

call me asap

it’s already everywhere

people are eating this shit up

we’ll fix this, don’t panic ok??

his stomach churned, a slow, sickly twist, like the moment right before a rollercoaster drop—except this wasn’t thrilling. it was just nausea.

they didn’t know about suho. they didn’t know about the sterile hospital-grade scent clinging to his apartment, the way he laughed a little softer these days—like he was already halfway gone. they didn’t know how hyunjin had to pretend everything was fine because suho hated pity. they didn’t know that every visit felt heavier than the last.

they didn’t know anything.

and yet, here they were. guessing. assuming. branding him guilty of something he hadn’t even done.

then—something snapped.

he shot up from his chair, heart slamming against his ribs. his hands moved before he could think, grabbing the glass jar he used to rinse his paintbrushes. his breath came sharp through his teeth, and then—

crash.

the jar shattered against the wall, splintering into a thousand jagged pieces. water seeped into the cracks of the floor, staining the base of the wall in slow, creeping lines.

his chest heaved. his hands clenched into his hair. he barely felt the sting in his palm from a stray shard. he’d have to clean it later. he’d have to deal with the mess. but right now—

a knock.

“hyunjin? what the hell was that?”

changbin.

the voice was steady, but hyunjin could hear the concern behind it. a beat passed, then the sound of careful footsteps just outside the door.

“you good?”

hyunjin dragged a shaky hand across his hair, blinking at the mess. his chest heaved, his pulse still erratic. fuck. he let his head fall back, swallowing hard before forcing something—anything—out of his throat.

“…yeah.”

his voice was hoarse, unconvincing. he knew changbin wouldn’t buy it.

another pause.

“…i’m coming in.”

the door creaked open, and changbin stepped inside.

his eyes flicked around the room—first to hyunjin, then to the shattered glass by the wall, the water bleeding into the floorboards, the mess of art supplies strewn across the desk.

changbin’s jaw tightened. “holy shit.”

hyunjin’s mind was just as much of a wreck as his room. shattered thoughts, seeping panic, a mess he couldn’t shove back into place no matter how hard he tried. his head felt like it had been cracked open, thoughts spilling out in incoherent colors, smearing together into something ugly.

changbin’s voice came out quieter this time, but sharp. “what the hell is wrong with you?”

hyunjin’s fingers twitched. he could feel the tension rolling off changbin in waves, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet his eyes. he stared instead at the paint-stained floor, at the streaks of color on his ruined sketchbook. 

“you gonna answer me, or should i just assume you’ve lost your mind?” changbin pressed, his patience wearing thin.

a slow inhale. hyunjin dragged a hand down his face before finally speaking, voice low, scratchy. “just leave it.”

changbin scoffed. “leave it? you trashed your room, you’re breaking shit, and you want me to just—” he cut himself off with a harsh exhale, gripping the bridge of his nose.

but then, instead of continuing, he sighed and walked past him, stepping carefully over the broken glass. changbin crouched down, grabbing a rag from hyunjin’s desk, and started wiping up the water without a word.

hyunjin swallowed, his throat dry again. 

changbin wrung out the rag, water dripping into the trash can with quiet splashes. his movements were slow, deliberate, like he was choosing his words as carefully as he was cleaning up hyunjin’s mess.

“you’ve been all over the place these past few days,” he said finally, voice steady but laced with something firm.

hyunjin inhaled through his nose, his fingers curling into fists in his lap. he knew. he knew, but hearing it out loud made something sharp press against his ribs.

“i know,” he muttered.

changbin exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. “no, i don’t think you do.” he glanced up then, meeting hyunjin’s eyes with a look that wasn’t quite anger but wasn’t soft either. “you’ve been like this for a while. before the scandal. before this whole mess. you think no one noticed?”

hyunjin stayed silent. the words pressed against his ribs, heavy and unrelenting, but he didn’t push them out. didn’t defend himself. didn’t argue. what was there to say?

changbin sighed, shifting slightly against the desk. “we’ve noticed everything.”

hyunjin’s breath hitched. just for a second. just enough for changbin to catch it. he finally looked up, and changbin met his gaze head-on. 

“you know you can talk to us, right? about suho.” changbin’s voice was quieter now. “you can talk to me.”

hyunjin swallowed. his throat still felt raw, his chest too tight, but something in changbin’s words settled in the space between them. but thankfully, he didn’t push.

instead, changbin stood up, brushing his hands against his sweats before jerking his chin toward the door. “come on. we’ll go to the company together.”

hyunjin hesitated.

“hyunjin.”

something about the way changbin said his name, like he wasn’t giving him a choice, made him sigh.

“yeah.” hyunjin pushed himself up, shaking out his hoodie. “let me change first.”

changbin nodded once, waiting outside the door. not leaving. not giving him space to back out. hyunjin exhaled, turning toward his closet. it didn’t matter what he wore. it wouldn’t change the fact that he was about to walk into hell.

you tipped the last capsule into your palm, the plastic bottle cool against your fingers.

the water on your kitchen counter had gone room temperature, but you took a sip anyway, swallowing the pills one after the other. collagen. iron. some herbal mix that promised better sleep. things for your skin, for your body, for your health.

the dim glow from the streetlights barely cut through your curtains, painting the walls in streaks of cold orange. the apartment was silent, too silent, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the other room. you should have left the tv on. should have played some music.

the doorbell rang, its chime cutting through the thick silence like a blade.

you froze.

for a second, you wondered if you’d imagined it, if your mind was playing tricks on you in the quiet. but then it rang again, longer this time, pressing, insistent.

a strange pulse ran through your body. no one ever visited this late.

pushing yourself up, you padded toward the door, fingers stiff as you reached for the security monitor. the screen flickered to life, grainy in the dim hallway lighting, and your stomach dropped.

a man stood there, head tilted slightly, his face obscured by a black mask. he held a bouquet of flowers in one hand, stark against the dark hoodie he was wearing.

you swallowed. hard.

you knew who it was.

even with the mask, even with the hood—there was no mistaking him.

your heart thumped against your ribs as your fingers hovered over the lock. your pulse screamed at you to leave it alone, to pretend you weren’t home, to wait until he gave up and left. but you knew he wouldn’t.

with a slow inhale, you unlocked the door and pulled it open. sangwoo’s eyes met yours over the mask, then he pulled it down, revealing a familiar smile.

your voice came out quieter than you intended. “how do you know where i live?”

he let out a small chuckle, casual, like you’d just asked something silly. “some of the crew members told me. they were thrilled to hear we were connecting off set.”

that didn’t make you feel any better. if anything, it made the discomfort sink deeper into your bones.

you didn’t move.

his smile faltered just slightly, his fingers tightening around the bouquet.

you stepped aside, the movement stiff, unnatural. “uh…come in.”

he handed you the flowers as he stepped in, eyes flickering around your apartment. “beautiful home you’ve got here, y/n.”

“thanks,” you murmured, fingers tightening around the bouquet.

you turned away, heading toward the kitchen. the flowers smelled sweet, too sweet, almost suffocating as you pulled a vase from the cabinet. the water ran cold over your fingers as you filled it, the sound echoing in the too-quiet space.

sangwoo moved leisurely, his presence filling the room like he belonged there. “you live alone?”

you hesitated, then nodded. “yeah.”

you focused on trimming the stems, placing each flower into the vase carefully, precisely. your hands were steady, but your chest felt tight.

“must get lonely.”

the scissors in your hand stilled.

“you know,” he murmured, “i never really thought about it before, but… someone like you, living alone—it’s kind of dangerous, isn’t it?”

you blinked, your fingers tightening around the scissors. “like me?”

sangwoo smiled, slow and deliberate, as if he was savoring the moment. “yeah.” he leaned against the counter, watching you with something unreadable in his eyes. “i mean, you’re…” he exhaled, shaking his head slightly, like he was searching for the right words. “you’re soft, y/n.”

your stomach turned. “soft.”

he hummed in confirmation. “you know. gentle. fragile, even.” his gaze flickered down, tracing the curve of your wrist as you held the scissors. “delicate hands. pretty face.” a small pause, then a light chuckle. “the kind of person people just… gravitate toward. the kind of person who should be careful.”

you carefully snipped another stem, the sharp sound of the blades cutting through the silence. 

sangwoo exhaled a soft chuckle. “you trust people too much, y/n. you never know who might be thinking about walking right through that door when you least expect it.”

your fingers twitched. the scissors pressed into your palm.

you swallowed. “is that supposed to be a joke?”

he tilted his head, watching you. “do you think it is?”

sangwoo took a step forward. the soft sound of his shoes against the floor felt deafening in the silence. closer. slow, deliberate steps. he wasn’t in a hurry—like he already knew how this would end.

you held your ground, barely.

“sangwoo,” you said, forcing your voice to stay even. 

he reached out, fingertips barely grazing your wrist, featherlight. your heartbeat thumped in your ears, drowning out every rational thought. sangwoo’s fingers lingered, just barely touching your wrist. a ghost of a touch, like he was testing the waters, seeing how far he could push.

“you always this tense.” he asked, head tilting slightly. “maybe you’re just nervous because we’re alone.”

you exhaled, forcing yourself to focus on anything but his fingers on your skin. the scissors in your other hand. the steady drip of the faucet behind you. the cold air seeping in from the slightly open window.

“i’m not nervous,” you muttered.

he chuckled, low and knowing. “then why do you look like you’re waiting to stab me with those scissors?”

your jaw clenched.

he was enjoying this. pushing, pressing, inching closer and closer just to watch you react.

you could feel his breath now, warm against your cheek, his presence sinking into your space like oil spreading over water.

“why?” he mused. 

you swallowed. “sangwoo—”

“you’re acting like i’m some kind of threat.”

“sangwoo,” you said, voice steady now. you needed to think of something to get yourself out of this suffocating situation. urgently. “i’m seeing someone.”

silence.

his expression didn’t change drastically. but you saw it—the slightest twitch of his eye. the smallest shift in his posture.

“really?” he leaned back slightly. “since when?”

your grip on the scissors didn’t ease, even as you forced your expression to stay neutral. “a few weeks,” you said, voice even.

sangwoo let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head like you’d just told him something funny. “a few weeks?” he dragged out the words, eyes glinting with amusement. “that’s funny. you never mentioned seeing anyone before.”

you didn’t respond.

he let out another short laugh, shaking his head. “y/n, the flowers were just a friendly gesture. that’s all. no need to get so defensive and worked up.”

worked up. like you were being ridiculous. like he hadn’t spent the past ten minutes making your skin crawl. you said nothing. just placed the scissors down, carefully, deliberately, like you weren’t afraid. like your heart wasn’t still pounding in your chest.

sangwoo smiled, taking a step back toward the door. “i’ll see you on monday, yeah?” he gave you one last look. “maybe have your boyfriend stop by some time on set.”

the words sent ice down your spine.

a test. a warning. 

he held your gaze for a beat longer, then turned on his heel, slipping his hands into his pockets as he strolled out of your apartment.

you didn’t catch the way his face dropped the second he turned away.

the scent of expensive cleaning products lingered in the air, faint but noticeable. suho’s cleaners had been here earlier—probably scrubbing every surface until it gleamed.

they were in his bedroom now. hyunjin sat beside him, his foot tapping against the hardwood floor, restless. suho was lying there, thinner than before, dark circles smudged beneath his eyes.

hyunjin sighed, dragging a hand down his face as his phone buzzed again. he barely needed to check—he already knew what it would say.

“the company’s pissed at me for coming here.” 

suho huffed a laugh, but it came out more like a breath. “yeah? what else is new?”

“no, like really pissed. they already are, ever since this morning,” hyunjin muttered. “because i told them i wanted to release a statement telling the truth.”

suho finally turned his head fully to look at him, brow lifting slightly. “the truth?”

hyunjin’s jaw tightened. “that i was coming here to see you. but they refused”

suho stared at him for a long second before scoffing. “just leave out the drug dealer part.”

hyunjin let out a bitter chuckle. “you think i didn’t try that?” he leaned back, pressing his fingers into his temple. “i could’ve said ‘i’ve been visiting my sick friend.’ that’s it. just that. and they still shot it down immediately.”

suho didn’t look surprised. “why?”

hyunjin inhaled sharply through his nose. “you know how the public is. either they don’t believe it or they dig and find all your personal stuff.” hyunjin muttered. “an exec said there was no way to spin it in my favor.

suho let out a slow breath, leaning his head back against the couch. “so what’s your plan?”

hyunjin didn’t answer right away. because that was the problem—he didn’t have one. the company would handle it, sure, but what the hell could they even do? he’d been seen too many times. the evidence was too clear. it wasn’t just some baseless rumor that would die in a week.

he dropped his hands, staring at the ceiling. “i don’t know.”

suho exhaled, tilting his head toward hyunjin with a lazy smirk. “then you need a story.”

hyunjin rolled his eyes. “no shit.”

“i mean a real one.” suho stretched out his legs, looking entirely unbothered despite the mess hyunjin’s life had just become. “something that makes sense.”

hyunjin sighed. “like what?”

suho hummed, tapping his fingers against his knee. then, with a knowing glint in his eyes, he said, “tell them you were visiting someone else.”

hyunjin narrowed his eyes. “who?”

suho shrugged. “i don’t know. you got options. a girlfriend, maybe?” he grinned. “turn it into a scandal people actually like.”

hyunjin scoffed, sitting up. “that’s a horrible idea.”

suho laughed, shaking his head. “come on, think about it. this building’s got a lot of good people. doctors, actors, idols, trust fund kids—hell, there’s probably an old chaebol heir rotting away in here somewhere. pick one. say you’ve been sneaking around because you’re dating someone.”

hyunjin gave him a flat look. “that’s literally the worst thing i could do.”

suho held up his hands, still smirking. “alright, alright. just a suggestion.”

hyunjin slumped back into the chair in deep thought. 

suho tilted his head, then snapped his fingers. “what about charity work?”

hyunjin blinked. “what?”

“yeah. say you’ve been working with some outreach program,” suho said. “something private. helping underprivileged kids or some shit. people eat that up. they’ll think you were hiding it out of humility.”

hyunjin hesitated. it wasn’t the worst idea. but it also wasn’t something he could pull off overnight.

suho grinned at the look on his face. “what? better than saying you’re dating some woman, isn’t it?”

hyunjin exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. “i don’t know… it still sounds fake.”

suho shrugged. “everything in your industry is fake. just make it believable.” he coughed into his sleeve, his smirk dimming slightly. “besides, your company’s probably already spinning something. if you don’t pick someone, they will.”

hyunjin dragged a hand down his face, suddenly exhausted. “i’ll figure something out.”

suho studied him for a moment, then sighed, shifting to lean against the headboard. “well, whatever you do, make sure you do it fast. you know how these things go—one day it’s just rumors, the next your face is on every damn news site.”

hyunjin knew. too well.

his phone buzzed again, another message from the company. he ignored it, staring at the screen like it had personally wronged him.

fake dating was stupid.

charity work was unrealistic.

and yet, somehow, those were his best options.

the restaurant was the kind that smelled like overpriced coffee and imported truffle oil, with white marble tables and floor-to-ceiling windows that let the morning sun spill in just right. you stepped inside the private room, adjusting your sunglasses, scanning the room until your eyes landed on her. you slid into the cushioned seat across from mina, who was already stirring her iced americano, gold bracelets clinking.

“finally,” she sighed dramatically. “i was starting to think you stood me up.”

the waitress took your orders—something light, fancy, and overpriced—before disappearing with a polite smile.

she sighed dramatically. “i’ve been dying to catch up. you’ve been, like, impossible to reach lately.”

you grinned, resting your chin in your hand. “you say that like i’m not literally one call away.”

she snorted, flipping the page. “oh, please. you’ve been busier than the president. it’s, ‘let’s do brunch!’ and then radio silence for a week.”

you laughed, bumping your knee against hers under the table. “i missed you too.”

the conversation flowed effortlessly, slipping into the usual rhythm of playful teasing and casual updates. she told you about the disaster of a date she went on last weekend—some guy who spent the entire dinner talking about his "investment portfolio". you winced, shaking your head.

“brutal,” you muttered.

“right? i should’ve left halfway through, but then i thought, ‘no, let me be mature about this.’” she sighed dramatically. “never again.”

but eventually, the small talk lost its charm. 

mina leaned forward, eyes sharp with curiosity, stirring her drink lazily. “okay, enough of this. i’m bored.”

you raised a brow, amused. “what?”

“did you hear about hwang hyunjin?”

you blinked, the name slamming into you like a brick to the back of the head. your brain lagged for a second, trying to process it. hwang hyunjin.

then the name hit you like a slap.

you hadn't heard it in ages—hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t let yourself think about it. not since milan fashion week. not since that night in the dimly lit hotel room, the balcony doors cracked open just enough to let the cool italian air slip in. 

the second the memory hit, you inhaled sharply—too sharply—almost choking on your water. you grabbed your napkin, dabbing at your mouth as mina burst into laughter, smacking the table.

“oh my god,” she cackled. “i love you.”

you swallowed, composing yourself as best as you could. “i forgot about him,” you said, waving a dismissive hand.

mina raised an eyebrow. “uh-huh.” she tilted her head, eyes gleaming. “so, does that mean you haven’t seen the news?”

that made you pause. you set your glass down. “what news?”

mina lowered her voice, making it sound like she was sharing some juicy gossip. “well, people are saying he’s been—how do i put this—spending time with some, uh, questionable company. like, prostitutes, you know? it’s all over the internet.” she practically grinned, waiting for your reaction.

you felt your stomach drop. “goodness,” was all you could manage to say. the thought of anyone—especially someone you’d been around—being connected to something like that was just… disturbing.

mina continued, leaning in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “and you may ask why this is all so important to you. but get this—it’s all happening in the building you live in.”

you let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “you’re joking.”

mina just raised a brow.

“no, really.” you exhaled, running a hand through your hair. “prostitutes? underground clubs? in my building?” you huffed a dry laugh. “damn, and here i was thinking the wildest thing happening there was my neighbor blasting trot music at 2 am.”

mina stayed serious. “i just wanna check—have you, you know, seen anything weird?”

you rolled your eyes, still half-smiling. “what, like a stripper pole in the lobby? no. nothing like that.”

mina shrugged, sipping her drink. “well, you never know.”

you scoffed, shaking your head. “mina, i really don’t think it’s true. these kinds of rumors get blown way out of proportion. he’s an idol. people love making up the most insane stuff about them.”

mina tilted her head, her smirk widening like she’d just caught you slipping. “okay, okay. but just because he’s your ex-fling doesn’t mean you have to be defensive about it.”

you nearly choked on air this time. “i’m not—mina, please.”

she laughed, waving a hand. “i’m just saying! you sound kinda invested.”

you gave her a look. “i’m invested because you’re telling me my building is apparently hosting a mob-run escort service, not because i once made out with the guy.”

mina leaned forward, eyes twinkling with mischief. “well… more than just that.”

you groaned. “ugh, please don’t remind me.”

she gasped, clutching her chest like you’d personally offended her. “you don’t just hook up with hwang hyunjin and pretend it didn’t happen.” mina wiggled her eyebrows. “which reminds me—your fucking co-star is kang sangwoo. y/n, do you realize how disgustingly lucky you are right now?”

mina didn’t notice the way your shoulders tensed once you heard his name. how you suddenly felt like your throat was closing up.

you forced a laugh, picking at the napkin in your lap.

“i mean, come on. first hyunjin, now kang sangwoo? the man beloved by this entire nation?” she let out a dramatic sigh. “some girls just have it all.”

you shook your head immediately. “it’s not like that with sangwoo.”

mina scoffed, propping her chin in her hand. “oh, please. you’re basically with him five days a week. come on, y/n.”

you exhaled, trying not to let your frustration show. “yeah, for work. it’s not like we’re hanging out in our free time.”

she smirked, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against her glass. “still. that’s a lot of time for things to, you know… develop.”

you just nodded, biting your lip, not trusting yourself to answer properly.

she sighed dramatically, flopping back into her chair. 

“god, if i had your problems…”

the conference room was suffocatingly silent now, the last echoes of shuffling papers and closing doors fading into nothing. hyunjin sat slouched in his chair, fingers digging into his temples, exhaustion pressing against his skull. the meeting had been hell—hour-long discussions, half-baked solutions, and a constant reminder that his name was currently the worst thing on the internet.

chan hadn’t left.

hyunjin could feel his stare, heavy and unwavering, but he didn’t look up. he didn’t want to. not when he already knew what was coming.

“hyunjin.”

his shoulders stiffened. he exhaled sharply, finally glancing up. “what?”

chan frowned. “i know this is a lot, but—”

“don’t.” hyunjin rubbed at his jaw, eyes on the table. 

a pause. chan laced his fingers together, resting them on the table. “i just want you to talk to me.”

silence.

chan ran a hand through his hair, biting down on whatever response he wanted to throw back. instead, he just exhaled. “you’ve been shutting us out.” chan’s voice softened, barely above a murmur. “we’re losing you, hyunjin.”

hyunjin stared at the table. his jaw clenched.

“...you know that, right?” 

hyunjin didn’t move. he didn’t speak.

“i just…” chan hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “i want you back, hyunjin, we want you back.” his voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of something much heavier. 

hyunjin still didn’t speak, but something flickered in his eyes.

chan watched him, pressing his lips together before continuing. “i know it’s because of suho,” he admitted. “i know why you’re like this right now.” he wasn’t pushing, wasn’t prying. just stating a fact.

hyunjin’s jaw tensed.

chan sighed. “i get it. i do. if it were me…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “i don’t even know what i’d do. but, hyunjin, killing yourself over this?”

hyunjin’s fingers twitched. but he still didn’t look up.

chan exhaled again, softer this time. “ this isn’t sustainable. and i’m scared that one day, you’re gonna wake up and realize you have nothing left to give.”

hyunjin shut his eyes for a long moment. then, finally, he muttered, “i don’t know what to do.”

chan’s heart ached at how small his voice sounded.

“then let us help you,” he said gently. “you don’t have to figure it out alone.”

hyunjin didn’t say anything. but this time, he didn’t push chan away.

after a while of silence, a memory came to hyunjin, making him let out a short, dry chuckle, finally leaning back in his chair. “suho actually had an idea for me.” hyunjin exhaled, shaking his head like he still couldn’t believe it. “he said i should just tell people i was sneaking around because i’m dating someone. can you imagine? me, suddenly in a whole-ass relationship out of nowhere?”

chan didn’t laugh.

“like that wouldn’t explode in my face instantly.”

still, chan was silent.

the amusement in hyunjin’s face wavered. “what?”

chan was staring at him, lips pressed together. his fingers tapped lightly against the table, and there was something calculating in his eyes, something hyunjin didn’t like.

hyunjin sat up straighter. “oh, hell no.”

chan hummed, tilting his head. 

“no.”

“it’s not the worst idea.”

hyunjin gaped at him. “you have got to be kidding me.”

chan shrugged, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. “you said it yourself. people already believe you’re sneaking around. what better reason than love?”

“don’t say it like that,” hyunjin muttered, disgusted.

chan ignored him, sitting up fully. “it would explain why you were seen there so often. and more importantly, it would push the scandal out of the narrative.”

hyunjin exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “i hate that you’re actually thinking about this.”

chan grinned. “that’s because it’s a solid plan.”

hyunjin groaned, head dropping back against the chair. “you’re insane.”

“no, no—think about it.” chan leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “if we came to an agreement with someone, you two could just hang tight for a while. keep up appearances, and then, when everything dies down, you break it off.”

hyunjin let out a slow breath through his nose. “you mean when suho dies and i no longer need a reason to visit him?”

silence.

chan stiffened. his expression went blank, but not in a way that suggested neutrality—it was the kind of blankness that came when someone didn’t know how to respond. his fingers, which had been lightly tapping the table moments ago, stilled completely.

hyunjin felt the shift immediately.

he shut his eyes, shaking his head once before exhaling. “that was—” he paused, then muttered, “that was a shitty thing to say. i’m sorry.”

chan swallowed and looked down. for a while, neither of them spoke. he exhaled slowly, rubbing his palm over his face. 

hyunjin didn’t respond. he just kept staring at his hands, fingers twitching slightly, like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

“look,” chan said carefully. “i know you hate this. i know you don’t wanna fake some stupid relationship, but if it keeps you out of trouble, buys you time—” he hesitated. “wouldn’t that be worth it?”

hyunjin shook his head, leaning back. “this is insane.”

“what’s insane is letting this whole thing get worse when we have an out.”

hyunjin sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “even if i agreed—which, by the way, i haven’t—who the hell would even do it?”

chan hesitated. “do you have anyone in mind?”

hyunjin scoffed. “oh, yeah, loads. my phone’s just bursting with women waiting for me to ask them to fake date me.”

chan stared.

hyunjin sighed. “no, chan. i don’t have anyone in mind.”

chan leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “look, if you really wanna go in that direction, i actually think it’d be a good idea.”

hyunjin shot him a dry look. “a good idea?”

chan nodded, completely serious. “you need a solution. this is one. if we do it right, it actually helps you.”

hyunjin exhaled, rubbing his temples. “we’re lying to the whole world. it’s fake dating, hyung.”

“and?” chan shrugged. “it’s not like you actually have to like the person. we just need to put a name and face to the label”

hyunjin muttered something under his breath and leaned forward, elbows on the table.

chan tapped his fingers against the wood. “once you’ve made your decision, we bring it up in the next meeting. boom—there’s your solution. we can figure out the who part later.”

hyunjin looked at him, unamused. “boom?”

chan ignored him. “this isn’t a bad move, hyun.”

hyunjin sighed. he knew that. that was the worst part.

chan leaned forward. “so?”

hyunjin stared at the table, fingers drumming against it. 

“...i’ll think about it.”

the city at night was a dream—silver lights blinking against the dark sky, buildings glowing like constellations, streets humming with life but not too loud, just the perfect kind of alive.

as you neared your building, the familiar skyline framed itself perfectly against the deep indigo night. you flicked your blinker, turning smoothly onto the quieter street behind the building. the entrance to the underground garage came into view, between polished concrete walls. swiping your access card, you waited as the heavy gate hummed, slowly rolling upward.

the moment you slipped inside, the noise of the city softened, replaced by the low hum of overhead lights and the occasional drip of water somewhere in the distance. you drove through the near-empty space, your tires making a soft sound against the smooth pavement, before pulling into your reserved spot.

shutting off the engine, you sat there for a second, the warmth of the drive still clinging to you. the gym had let your body feel loose, the post-workout high still buzzing faintly in your limbs. you reached for your bag, slinging it over your shoulder before stepping out, the sound of your car door closing echoing faintly through the empty garage.

you made your way toward the elevators, the soft click of your sneakers against the smooth garage floor the only sound in the stillness. the overhead lights cast long, sharp-edged shadows, stretching and bending as you walked.

reaching out, you grabbed the cool metal handle of the elevator lobby door and pulled it open. the hinges gave a quiet creak as you stepped inside. the space was softly lit, washed in a muted golden glow that made everything feel just a little more intimate, a little more hushed.

and then you noticed you weren’t alone.

a man stood near the elevators, his hands tucked into the pockets of a sleek black coat. his cap was on backward, dark fabric disappearing into the studs of his blond hair. a mask rested just beneath his chin, exposing the sharp cut of his jawline.

tall. unmistakably so. his frame, his posture—something about him was too familiar.

the stranger shifted, finally looking up.

and the moment your eyes met, your breath caught.

because he wasn’t a stranger.

not at all.

“hyunjin?”

“y/n?”

hearing your name in his voice—slightly raspy, laced with surprise—was like flipping a switch.

the world around you blurred, folding into itself, swallowed by the rush of memory.

suddenly, the elevator lobby was gone. the scent of clean concrete replaced by something warmer—cologne, faint wine, the crisp linen of a hotel bed.

you weren’t standing in a garage late at night. you were in milan.

in a hotel room washed in golden lamplight, the air thick with heat, his hands gripping your skin like he couldn’t get enough. his lips dragging over your throat, breath ragged, voice desperate as he whispered your name against your skin. his body pressing into yours, fitting against you so perfectly it felt unreal.

you could still taste the liquor on your tongue, feel the dizzy warmth in your veins. everything had been hazy, edges softened by alcohol and adrenaline, by the way milan pulsed beneath you like a dream you never wanted to wake from.

a breath hitched in your throat.

and then it was gone.

the present snapped back into place, harsh and real. the elevator doors chimed softly behind you, but you couldn’t move.

hyunjin was looking at you now, eyes warm despite the obvious exhaustion shadowing his face. he looked different, but there was still something about him that was undeniably the same.

then, to your absolute horror, he smiled.

“wow,” he murmured, tilting his head. “didn’t think i’d run into you here.”

his voice was the same. beautiful, with that smooth cadence that always made everything he said feel effortless. he shifted his weight slightly, hands still tucked in his pockets, eyes scanning your face.

the hyunjin you met in milan had been wild and reckless, grinning against your skin like he had nothing to lose. this hyunjin was something else entirely. he was so tired—you could see it in the way his eyes drooped just a little, in the way his breath left him in something like a sigh. but he was still cute. still unfairly pretty.

and still standing in front of you, in your building, like the universe was playing some kind of joke.

the elevator doors slid open, but neither of you stepped in immediately.

you blinked at him, still trying to process the fact that he was even here, in your building, standing in front of you like a half-forgotten memory brought back to life.

“didn’t think i’d run into you either,” you finally said, shifting your bag higher on your shoulder.

hyunjin let out a soft chuckle, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. you huffed a small laugh as well, stepping into the elevator. he followed, moving with that same effortless grace he always had, but now, it was weighed down by something heavier. something quieter.

the doors shut behind you, sealing you both in.

“so…” hyunjin turned slightly toward you, hands still in his pockets as he pressed for suho’s floor, then silently gestured to you. “you live here?”

you glanced at him. “yeah. 30.”

he nodded once, pressing the button, only a few floors under suho’s. “nice place.”

you let out a breathy laugh. “i like it.”

another silence. the kind that felt full, not empty.

the elevator lurched into motion, the hum of it filling the silence between you.

you were still too stunned by the fact that he was here—by the way he looked, the way he sounded, the way he carried himself now—until your brain caught up with reality.

and then it hit you.

hyunjin. in your building.

hyunjin. the center of a scandal about sneaking around this exact place.

you blinked, your stomach dropping. oh, my god. you had literally just caught him red-handed.

“so,” he said casually, like he read your mind. “have you heard?”

you turned toward him fully, expression unreadable. “about you?”

he nodded once, tilting his head like he was gauging your reaction.

you hesitated, inhaling slowly before admitting, “i don’t wanna believe it. i mean, first of all, this building is the least likely for those sorts of things to happen.” you lowered your voice. “and second of all, i don’t think you’re that type of person, hyunjin.”

that made him smile a little—just a small, knowing curve of his lips. “don’t worry, the whole thing is bullshit.” he said. “i’ve been coming here to visit somebody, that’s why.”

your first thought was that he was here to visit a girlfriend.

you shifted your weight slightly, arms crossing over your chest as you leaned back against the cool elevator wall. “yeah, well… your type of fans get pretty worked up over dating,” you said, watching his reaction. “you're in a hard situation right now, then.”

hyunjin let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “oh, no, no,” he said quickly, lifting a hand. “i’m not dating.” he hesitated, glancing at you before scratching the back of his neck. “i’m visiting my friend. he’s, um… he’s very sick.”

your brows furrowed slightly, and you shifted your stance, watching him carefully. “oh,” you said softly. “i’m sorry.”

hyunjin shook his head, offering a small, tired smile. “it’s okay.”

“it must be a lot,” you said gently. “worrying about him while also dealing with… all of this.” you gestured vaguely, meaning the scandal.

hyunjin let out a quiet breath, something close to a laugh but not quite. “yeah,” he admitted, rubbing his palm against the back of his neck. “tell me about it.”

the elevator slowed to a stop, and the doors slid open to your floor. you hesitated, glancing at hyunjin once more.

“for what it’s worth,” you said, voice soft, “i hope it gets better.”

hyunjin’s gaze lifted to yours.

“all of it.” you offered him a small smile, something reassuring. then, without thinking much about it, you reached out, fingers grazing his forearm in a light squeeze. “take care, okay?”

hyunjin didn’t move. he just watched as you stepped out.

the doors started to slide shut, and you expected that to be it. a strange, unexpected meeting with someone from your past. a memory to shake off by the time you reached your apartment.

but then, just before the doors could close completely, hyunjin moved.

his arm shot out, palm pressing against the door sensors. the panels jolted, beeping before sliding open again.

you turned back, surprised. the doors closed behind him, leaving him standing on your floor.

hyunjin exhaled before meeting your eyes.

“y/n,” he said, almost like it was something he hadn’t meant to say aloud. he hesitated, shifting his weight before finally sighing. “i don’t know when i’ll ever see you again.”

you blinked, caught completely off guard. “what?”

hyunjin let out a breath, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe himself either. then he laughed—just a little, under his breath, barely there. “i don’t know what to do anymore,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “everything’s been... chaotic lately. it’s like i’m trying to hold everything together, but it just keeps slipping.”

you stared at him, your heart suddenly feeling too heavy in your chest. he was unraveling. right in front of you.

his voice dropped lower, raw with something you couldn’t place. “and now i’m here, standing in front of you, and i don’t even know why i stopped the elevator.”

you didn’t know either.

your lips parted slightly, but no words came out. hyunjin just looked at you, like he was waiting for something—like even he wasn’t sure what. then, hesitantly, he spoke again.

“i need help.”

your brows pulled together. his voice was quiet, careful, like he already expected you to say no.

“you don’t have to.” he added quickly, shaking his head. “i—i just need to ask.”

you swallowed. “what is it?”

hyunjin exhaled through his nose, shifting his weight like he was bracing himself. “i thought the idea was stupid at first,” he admitted, gaze flickering to the floor before meeting yours again. “but my friend—the one who’s sick—he brought it up.” 

a short, humorless laugh left his lips. 

“and then my bandmate actually thought it was a good idea…” he trailed off for a second, like he was trying to find the right words. “and then when you assumed i was dating someone. and it made me realize… maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing for people to believe”

you blinked.

your heart was beating too fast now, thoughts racing in a direction you weren’t sure you understood. “what do you need from me?”

hyunjin hesitated, glancing away for a brief moment before exhaling through his nose. “something to get people off my back. a distraction.” his voice was quieter now, almost careful. “something that makes all of this… easier.”

your heart skipped.

hyunjin was talking about fake dating.

“hyunjin… me?” your voice came out softer than you expected, laced with hesitation.

“i know,” he said quickly, nodding like he was already expecting you to refuse. “it’s crazy. i completely understand if this doesn’t work for you.” he let out a breath, running a hand over his buzzed hair. “i just—i need something to steer this in another direction. and if that’s not you, that’s okay.”

the idea was crazy.

it had been years since you last saw hyunjin. years since milan, since that night, since the two of you were anything more than strangers passing through each other’s lives. fake dating him now—while he was knee-deep in a scandal, while you had your own career to protect—was out of the question.

you swallowed, shaking your head slightly. “i’m sorry,” you said, voice gentle. “i just… i don’t think i can.”

hyunjin nodded immediately, offering a small, easy smile—like he was making sure you knew he wasn’t upset. “it’s okay,” he assured you, waving a hand. 

“but…” you started, and his eyes flicked back to yours instantly. you hesitated, the words sitting strange on your tongue. “maybe i could find someone else. in this building.”

his brows rose, not in shock exactly, but something close—like hope trying to disguise itself as confusion. “what?”

you shrugged, arms crossing over your chest, more out of self-preservation than defensiveness. “i mean… it’s a big place. lots of people. actors, influencers, whatever trust fund kid lives above me who walks like he’s stomping grapes.” you glanced at him. “if all you need is a name and a face to make this go away…”

he blinked. “you’d… do that?”

“i said i’d help,” you said simply. “just not by throwing myself into the middle of a press storm. but maybe i could talk to someone. convince them to play along. someone who doesn’t have as much riding on their image as i do.”

hyunjin went quiet for a moment, jaw flexing like he was trying to figure out how to respond without sounding ungrateful.

“that’d mean a lot,” he said finally, voice softer now. “i know this is already too much to ask.”

you shook your head before speaking. “give me your phone.”

hyunjin blinked, reaching into his pocket and handing it over unlocked. 

you quickly typed in your number, saving it under just your name, before handing it back. “i’ll do what i can,” you said simply, meeting his eyes.

hyunjin stared at the screen for a second, lips parting slightly before he looked back at you. something flickered behind his gaze—something unreadable, something deep. then, just barely, he smiled.

and in that moment, you realized how much this meant to him.

“thank you, y/n,”

hyunjin had been on your mind ever since that night.

at first, you told yourself it was just because of the shock—running into him after all these years, hearing his voice again, watching him stand in front of you, so vulnerable. but it wasn’t just that. it was what he’d said. it was what he needed. and it was what you needed, too.

because sangwoo was still a problem.

you remembered that night in your apartment, when he had dropped you off uninvited, standing too close, speaking too softly, looking at you like he already had what he wanted. you had panicked. and in that moment, out of pure fear and self-defense, you had told him you had a boyfriend.

you hadn’t.

but if you had hyunjin… maybe it wouldn’t have been a total lie.

so you thought about it. really thought about it.

would it be that bad?

you weren’t hated by the public. you had never been caught in a controversy, never had to deal with antis tearing you apart online. hyunjin’s fans were passionate, yes, but maybe… maybe they wouldn’t be so bad. maybe they’d even be nice.

and maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t as crazy as it first seemed.

and that was why your fingers were hovering over your phone screen, your thumb grazing the call button for hyunjin.

you were sitting in the makeup chair between filming, the soft hum of conversation around you barely registering in your ears. your reflection in the mirror stared back at you—calm, composed—but inside, your mind was racing.

was this really the right move? would hyunjin even say yes?

you exhaled, lips pressing together as your hand tensed slightly around your phone. you just needed to do it. just press call. just—

“y/n.”

your heart stilled. you immediately locked your phone and lowered it onto your lap just as sangwoo stepped into view.

you noticed it immediately—the way he didn’t lean in too close, didn’t lower his voice to that sickly sweet tone that always made your skin crawl. he was keeping his distance, standing a respectful length away, his hands tucked casually in his pockets.

it was strange. 

you swallowed. “hi, sangwoo.”

for a second, you could only blink at him, waiting for the usual discomfort to creep in. but instead of anything suggestive, he just cleared his throat and gestured with his hand.

“about the next scene,” he started, his voice even, professional. “i was thinking—when you turn toward the window, maybe hold that beat a little longer before delivering your line? just for effect. it gives the moment more weight.”

sangwoo was a good actor with good feedback—you could never deny that—but he had never been this straightforward before. no unnecessary comments, no lingering stares, just an actual note on the scene.

you nodded, still a little cautious. “yeah, i can do that.”

and then, just like that, he walked off. you stared after him, your brain struggling to process whatever the hell that just was.

as soon as sangwoo disappeared past the set doors, it clicked.

your lips parted slightly in realization, a quiet breath leaving you as the pieces fell into place. it was because of what you told him that night in your apartment.

that you were taken.

that you were seeing someone.

your fingers curled around your phone, mind replaying the way he had backed off that night, the way he had barely even looked at you just now. the way he had spoken to you like a coworker—like a normal human being, without any of the usual tension or veiled insinuations.

it had to be that.

something about the idea of you being with someone had gotten to him, had actually made him keep his distance.

and god, you loved it.

you weren’t naïve enough to believe he had given up completely, but for now, this was enough. it was proof that the idea of a boyfriend had worked.

your fingers tapped against the back of your phone, mind racing.

if sangwoo was buying this whole boyfriend thing, then maybe… maybe you could take it further.

and just like that, an idea hit you.

your agency’s private event was nearing. a semi-exclusive event—actors, directors, executives, all gathering under one roof for an evening of networking and performances. 

and sangwoo would be there.

you knew it, because he never missed a chance to be seen, to shake hands, to remind everyone in the industry that he was the kang sangwoo.

what better place to show him?

your grip on your phone tightened, your thumb barely brushing over hyunjin’s name. this wasn’t about just scaring sangwoo off for the night—this was about cementing the idea in his head. if you showed up with someone—if it looked convincing—then maybe, just maybe, he’d finally stop pushing the boundaries with you.

your thumb hovered over hyunjin’s contact again.

he needed someone. you needed someone.

and for the first time, the idea of fake dating didn’t seem like such a bad one after all.

that night, you curled up on your couch, legs tucked under you, fingers resting lightly against your phone screen. the city lights outside cast a dim glow through your windows, flickering softly against the walls.

you were gonna do it.

after an entire day of thinking—of weighing every single risk, every possible consequence—you’d made up your mind.

your thumb hovered over hyunjin’s contact for only a second before you pressed down, bringing the phone to your ear.

it rang once. twice.

you bit your lip, heart pounding.

then—

“hello?”

his voice was smooth, low, like honey warmed over. a little breathless, like he hadn’t expected your call but was already settling into it. you could hear the faint rustling of fabric, the soft click of something being set down.

you inhaled sharply, forcing yourself to sound normal. “hi, hyunjin. are you in the building?”

there was a pause. then the quiet rustling of movement, like he was getting comfortable. “not tonight, sorry,” he murmured. “what’s up? you wanna talk?”

you exhaled slowly. “i’ve been thinking about it. what you asked me the other night.”

another pause. 

“mhm.”

your lips parted slightly, nervousness creeping up your throat. “i couldn’t find you someone to help you,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

silence.

hyunjin didn’t respond, but you could feel him listening. waiting.

so you swallowed, pushed past the last bit of doubt, and finally said it.

“but i could.”

hyunjin was quiet for a moment, and for a second, you almost thought you’d imagined the whole conversation. 

“yeah? you could?”

his voice was soft, tired, but there was something else underneath it. hope. a quiet, careful kind of hope.

you swallowed. “yeah.”

a breath left him, barely audible through the speaker. “y/n,” he said slowly, “you don’t have to. i mean it.” his tone was gentle, careful. “don’t feel pressured. you know that, right?”

you nodded instinctively, even though he couldn’t see you.

“i mean, you’ve got your own life. your career. i don’t want to—” he exhaled, and you could picture him running a hand through his hair, brows furrowed in thought. “i don’t want to make things harder for you.”

you took a breath, steadying yourself. “i know, hyunjin. but i have my reasons too.”

he was quiet, letting you continue.

“if we do this… i might need something as well,” you admitted, gripping the edge of your couch. 

he spoke again almost immediately. “y/n, i would do anything to give back to you.”

your breath caught. your eyes widened slightly, your stomach tightening at his words. the way he said it sent something warm rushing through you.

his voice softened, barely a whisper, as if to coax you. “tell me, y/n.”

you hesitated, nerves fluttering in your chest. you were suddenly aware of how much you were about to share with him—something raw, something you'd never told anyone before. his words, though, made you trust him in a way you hadn’t expected.

“you felt comfortable enough to tell me about... everything," you began, your voice quiet and unsure, "so i think it’s time i tell you something too.”

there was a pause on the other end. he didn’t interrupt, just waited.

you swallowed hard, the weight of what you were about to say pressing against your chest. “but, you need to promise me something first. you have to keep this quiet, hyunjin. i’ve never told anyone before.”

his response was immediate, earnest. “i promise, y/n. whatever it is, i’ll keep it between us.”

your heart beat faster, a lump forming in your throat. you could feel the words struggling to come out, the truth, the vulnerability that would finally be shared with someone else. 

“there’s someone on set,” you started, voice wavering. “a coworker and i...”

the words caught in your throat. you hadn’t even realized how much you needed to say this out loud to someone until now.

“i’ve been dealing with him for a while now," you took a deep breath and tried again. “and the worst part is, no one sees it. everything thinks it’s just normal workplace tension, but it’s not. not for me."

hyunjin stayed silent on the other end, giving you the space to speak, but you could feel him listening intently, like every word mattered.

"he doesn’t do anything... bad enough to report. not in a way that’s obvious to everyone. it’s the little things and that’s what makes it so hard to deal with."

you took a shaky breath, your heart hammering in your chest as you tried to keep your composure.

“and i—” you paused, swallowing hard. “i’m lying to him right now, hyunjin. to keep him away. i told him i’m seeing someone. and for now, it seems to be working, but...” you trailed off, unsure if you could say it aloud. “i don’t know how long it’ll last before he figures out i’m not.”

“so you need me.” it wasn’t a question, but a statement. hyunjin’s voice cut through the silence, low and steady.

you nodded slowly, trying to keep your thoughts straight. "yeah,”

“listen, i’ve got you, okay?” he said, his voice unwavering. “if you want me to talk to someone, i can. whatever you need, y/n.”

you paused for a moment before speaking again. “well, there's an event coming up, and he'll be there. just me showing up with someone might be enough to get him off my back."

“of course,” hyunjin responded. 

you let out a small breath, looking down. “i know my situation isn’t as serious as yours. my career’s safe, with or without your help. i could still help you, though—without expecting anything in return.”

hyunjin was quiet for a moment. then his voice came through, soft but strong, cutting through the doubt that was building inside you. “no, y/n. this is serious. it’s personal, and it matters. your peace of mind matters. what you’re dealing with is important too.” there was a sharpness to his words, a protective edge. “don’t diminish it, okay? ”

you didn’t know what to say to that, but hearing him say it felt like the weight of everything had been lifted just a little bit. you hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear those words until now.

you closed your eyes for a moment, letting his words sink in. “thank you, hyunjin,” you whispered, feeling the warmth of his reassurance settle in your chest.

there was a pause before he spoke again, his voice quiet but sincere. “no,” he said softly, “thank you. for helping me, for trusting me with this.”

you took a deep breath, the nerves creeping back in. “so... are we doing this?” you asked, your voice hopeful.

hyunjin let out a light laugh, the sound easing some of the tension in the air. “i guess so,” he replied, his voice more relaxed now. “i’ll bring it up when i meet with my company again.”

there was a slight pause before he added, his tone turning more serious, “you should really tell your company about your coworker, y/n. even if you think it won’t help, it might. you deserve to be heard.”

you nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, silently agreeing with him. the weight of the situation felt a little less heavy.

you let out a quiet breath, rolling your lips together as you mulled over his words. “i’ll think about it,” you murmured. it wasn’t a promise, but it was something.

hyunjin hummed in response, and you could hear the faint smile in his voice. “that’s all i ask.”

for a moment, there was nothing but the soft hum of the city outside your window, the warmth of his presence lingering through the phone. then, out of nowhere, he let out a small chuckle—low, amused.

your brows furrowed. “what?”

his laughter deepened slightly, rich and familiar, like he was suddenly remembering something fond. “nothing,” he said, but the teasing lilt in his voice betrayed him.

you narrowed your eyes, even though he couldn’t see you. “hyunjin.”

he exhaled through his nose, clearly holding back another laugh. “it’s just…” he trailed off for a second before finally saying it. “donatella’s gonna flip the fuck out.”

heat rushed to your face instantly. “stop, hyunjin.” you groaned. 

he just kept laughing, and despite yourself, despite the absolute chaos of both your lives, a giggle bubbled up in your chest. before you knew it, you were both laughing—really laughing—for the first time in what felt like forever. for just a second, you weren’t two people desperately trying to fix the mess around you—you were just hyunjin and y/n again.

and maybe, just maybe, this whole thing wouldn’t be so bad.

for something that was supposed to be a last resort, a desperate attempt to save his ass, the company sure took the fake dating idea and ran with it like it was their best plan since debuting him in the first place.

the meeting had barely started before someone clapped his hands together and went, “brilliant. let’s do it.” no hesitation. no deliberation.

“you mean… that’s it?” hyunjin had asked, blinking across the table at the team of executives who were already drafting up pr statements like this was just another tuesday.

one of them looked up from his notes. “would you like it to be more difficult?”

well. no.

now everything was out. the plan was in motion. and the most ridiculous part? it was actually working.

for what?

for a scandal that wasn’t even his fault? for a rumor that had spiraled so far out of control that even he was starting to think maybe he had secret business with prostitutes?

but it didn’t matter anymore, when the hashtags switched overnight from #hyunjin to #hyunyn. creative, truly.

and now, instead of dealing with conspiracy theories about his alleged involvement in illegal activities, hyunjin’s biggest problem was that people were debating whether you two had secretly been together for months or weeks. ironically, some said since milan fashion week. others thought you two were secretly cousins (what did that even mean?).

frankly, he didn’t care.

because at the end of the day, the narrative had shifted, and he could finally breathe.

which was why he had just been able to spend the afternoon with suho without sneaking in through some underground garage like he was smuggling state secrets.

it almost felt too easy. and he had you to thank for that. 

hyunjin exhaled as he leaned against the elevator wall, watching the numbers drop. a few floors down. that was all it took to go from suho’s penthouse to your apartment.

he hadn’t talked to you much since everything blew up. you were on set when it happened, and the one short call you managed was mostly just: wow, that was fast. okay, i have to go, but we’ll talk later.

except “later” never really came, and now he felt kind of bad about it.

so here he was. standing outside your door, clutching a small bag with a necklace he wasn’t even sure you’d like. which, honestly, was his own fault. he had almost bought one from versace—one of those statement pieces with the huge, flashy charms. it felt right at the time. you were an ambassador for the brand, after all. it made sense.

but then, mid-purchase, his brain caught up.

you probably already had this. he could literally picture it—your jewelry drawer stacked with versace pieces you got for free while he was out here about gift you something that would be redundant at best and embarrassing at worst.

so, in a rare moment of good decision-making, he backtracked and went for something else. a van cleef & arpels necklace. dainty, understated. 

it felt more you.

…or at least, he hoped it did.

he didn’t know why he got a necklace. maybe as a thank you. maybe because he thought it’d suit you. maybe because he was a little in over his head with whatever this was, and buying pretty things for you felt… normal.

either way, it was too late to back out now.

hyunjin raised a hand and knocked. and then, because his brain worked after his body, he noticed the doorbell.

oh.

his hand hovered toward it before he realized how weird that was. what kind of psycho knocks and then rings the doorbell immediately after? 

so he just stood there, wondering if you heard him at all. or if you were even home. 

he was just about to start overthinking again when the door swung open, cutting off his spiral entirely.

“hi, hyunjin,” you greeted with a small smile.

and for a second, he just stared. because—god, you were so pretty. the kind of pretty that looked effortless, like you had just stepped out of a movie. which was a stupid thought because, well, you were literally an actress. of course, you looked like that.

still. it didn’t make it any less unfair.

“hi, y/n,” he said, clearing his throat a little, hoping he wasn’t visibly dazed.

you tilted your head slightly. “what are you doing here?” before he could answer, you stepped aside, gesturing him in. “come in.”

he did, stepping into your apartment as you closed the door behind him. the space was cozy, warmer than he expected, even though he didn’t know what exactly he had expected.

“i was just, uh…” he rubbed the back of his neck, searching for words. “visiting my friend again. and i figured i’d stop by.”

your lips curled slightly, amused. “yeah?”

“yeah.” he exhaled a small laugh. “i’ve actually been coming quite often now—thanks to you.”

“i’m glad it’s working out for you,” you said, leaning against the back of your couch as you watched him.

hyunjin studied you for a second before tilting his head. “how about you?”

he already knew the answer before you even spoke. he could see it. you looked lighter—your shoulders weren’t as tense, your smile wasn’t as forced. you were beaming so much more than the last time he saw you, and it was obvious. the change suited you.

and maybe you noticed the same about him, too.

you exhaled, shaking your head slightly as if you couldn’t believe it yourself. “it’s been… great. a lot better.”

hyunjin raised an eyebrow, wordlessly urging you to continue.

you smiled a little. “for a second, i thought i was starting to lose my edge. i almost lost my love for being on set. but now it’s good. i feel like i can actually breathe now.”

hyunjin nodded, his expression softening. he knew that feeling all too well.

“that’s great, y/n.” his voice was genuine, warm, and maybe even a little proud. “really.”

his eyes were softer than usual, and the way he was looking at you made your stomach do a little flip.

“i got you something.” he lifted it slightly before handing it over.

“what is it?” you asked, taking the bag and gently pulling out the box. your fingers brushed against the smooth material as you lifted the lid, and inside was something that made your breath catch.

it was a necklace—elegant and so you. the delicate chain had a small pendant that caught the light, the kind of subtle beauty that you would have picked out for yourself. you looked up at him, surprised. “hyunjin, you really didn’t have to…”

but he was already smiling. “i thought you’d like it.”

your fingers lightly traced the necklace, and your eyes caught his again. “i love it.”

his brain suddenly snapped into action—that’s your cue to put it on for her, you dumb nut. hyunjin cleared his throat, raising his hand in a small gesture. with a small smile, you pulled the necklace from the box and held it out to him.

his fingers brushed against yours as he took it—light, barely there, but enough to send something weird and electric shooting through his chest. he ignored it. he wasn’t about to turn this into some rom-com slow-motion moment.

…except that’s exactly what it felt like when you turned around, exposing the curve of your neck.

hyunjin swallowed, hard.

he carefully brought the necklace over your head, moving so gently you almost didn’t feel it. hyunjin’s fingers barely brushed against your skin as he adjusted the chain, careful, deliberate. he was close enough that you could feel the faint warmth of him, close enough that if you turned your head even slightly, you’d—nope. not going there.

his voice, low and smooth, broke through the charged silence. “so… when’s this event i’m going to?”

you swallowed, willing yourself to sound normal. “um. next week. friday night.”

he hummed, his breath ghosting over the back of your neck as he fastened the clasp. “dress code?”

your lips parted slightly, mind blank for a second before you forced out, “formal.”

hyunjin chuckled, the sound barely above a whisper but somehow sending a ripple through you. “good to know.”

the necklace was secured, but neither of you moved just yet.

your fingers curled around the edge of the counter, trying to focus on anything other than how close he still was. “you don’t have to stay the whole time. just showing up with me should be enough.”

hyunjin didn’t step back.

not yet.

“i don’t mind staying,” he murmured, his voice softer now, like he wasn’t just talking about the event anymore.

his hand lingered near your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he stayed just a little too close. and then—suddenly, like the thought had just hit him—he exhaled, like he was trying to shake something off.

“sorry, i’m just—” hyunjin stopped himself, his hand now resting on the back of his neck, fingers gripping at the studs of his hair like he was trying to physically ground himself.

your heart stuttered.

he had moved back, but the air between you was still thick, charged with something neither of you wanted to name. you turned your head slightly, eyes flickering up to meet his.

you swallowed. “it’s fine.”

fine? how could you tell yourself this was fine?

you should’ve wanted to step back. you should’ve felt that creeping discomfort, that instinct to put space between you the way you always did when sangwoo leaned in too close.

but with hyunjin, you didn’t move. you didn’t want to move.

your breath was still uneven, but not from fear. just from him. you didn’t know what to make of that. all you knew was that there was something about hyunjin—something that felt different, that felt safe.

hyunjin’s gaze flickered to your lips for a split second—so fast, so fleeting, you might have imagined it. but you knew you didn’t. hyunjin didn’t move, but his eyes were asking something. and you answered. a small nod, barely there, but enough.

hyunjin’s hand was already moving before you could fully process it. it was slow, like he was giving you a chance to pull away, but you didn’t. his palm cupped your cheek, thumb grazing the soft skin beneath your eye. 

you could feel the air thinning between you two. and then, just as he leaned in, as the space between your lips and his vanished—

rrrring.

the shrill sound of his phone shattered everything.

hyunjin froze, lips barely an inch away from yours, his breath hitching before he pulled back, looking utterly frustrated. his hand quickly fell away from your face, and his lips twisted into a tight grimace.

he muttered, reaching into his pocket for his phone. “it’s my dorm mate.”

your chest tightened as you blinked, still in shock. what the hell just happened? you almost kissed the guy you swore you would never see again. the one-night stand that was supposed to be just that—one night. and your fake boyfriend who was meant to be fake.

hyunjin cleared his throat, pressing the phone to his ear. “hey, changbin.”

you tried not to look too relieved, even as your heart pounded.

“yeah, i’m at… y/n’s place,” he continued, avoiding your gaze. “just talking. about stuff.”

silence. you could practically feel changbin narrowing his eyes through the phone.

hyunjin scratched the back of his neck, finally glancing at you. “yeah, i’ll be over in a bit.”

another pause, then a clipped, “alright, take care.”

hyunjin exhaled, rubbing his forehead. he stood there, tense, like he’d been caught in something he wasn’t supposed to be part of. “sorry about that,” he muttered. “i have to go.”

you nodded, pretending the air between you wasn’t still charged.

hyunjin hesitated, then sighed. “i—look, i’m sorry. about this. about almost—” he stopped, shaking his head. “we probably need to set some boundaries. you’re… you know. and i’m… yeah. we’ll talk about it, okay?”

your lips pressed together, but you nodded again. “of course,” you repeated, even though neither of you were really sure what this was, or what those so-called boundaries even meant.

he stood there for a second longer, like he wanted to say something else. like maybe he was about to change his mind about leaving altogether. but then he straightened up, pushing a hand through his hair before muttering, “i’ll come pick you up tomorrow for the meeting.”

you stood up, moving on autopilot as you walked to the door and pulled it open for him. hyunjin hesitated for just a second, but then he gave you a small nod and stepped out.

the door clicked shut behind him.

silence.

you exhaled, slow and shaky, before leaning back against the door, your head lightly thudding against the wood. your fingers drifted up, brushing over the delicate pendant resting against your collarbone. 

what the hell just happened?

the wind tugged at your hair as you stood outside, waiting. you weren’t even sure why you were nervous—it wasn’t like you hadn’t seen hyunjin since the moment. it had been two days, a few texts exchanged here and there, but nothing significant. nothing that acknowledged that charged, almost-mistake hanging between you.

but then, a sleek black car rolled up in front of you, all polished edges and tinted windows, and your stomach did this stupid little flip. the door swung open, and there he was. hyunjin stepped out, in a black sweater that had been handcrafted by versace herself, and a pair of shades. he didn’t say anything at first, just opened the car door for you.

you blinked up at him. “oh, so we’re being all fancy now?”

he barely fought off a smirk, tilting his head toward the car like, get in already.

so you did, sliding into the backseat. before you could even get comfortable, he followed, shutting the door behind him. the car settled into a quiet hum as the driver pulled away.

hyunjin cleared his throat. “how’ve you been?”

“good,” you said, nodding like this wasn’t a little awkward. “busy with filming.”

he nodded back, and then his gaze dropped slightly, his lips curling up into a tiny, knowing smile.

you frowned. “what?”

he pointed lazily at your collarbone. “you’re still wearing it.”

you blinked, looking down—and oh. the four-leaf clover pendant sat against your collarbone, resting against your skin like it had never left.

you smiled, twirling it between your fingers. “i’m not allowed to have it on set, but i always put it on after.”

hyunjin didn’t say anything at first, just stared at you, his smile softening as he bit his lower lip. his whole expression warmed like the sun had just come out.

you shifted in your seat, trying to push down the nervous energy buzzing in your stomach. “so, should i be nervous about this?” you asked, your gaze flickering to the tinted windows as if the city outside could distract you from the fact that you were headed to a meeting with his company. 

hyunjin chuckled, leaning back a little in his seat. “no, don’t be. you’ll be fine. and i’ll be there the whole time.” 

he gave you a reassuring smile, but there was an extra twinkle in his eyes that made you wonder if he was being just a little bit too relaxed about all of this.

the meeting passed quicker than you expected, and before you knew it, the room was filled with the soft shuffle of papers and the clink of laptops being closed.

hyunjin immediately turned toward you with a grin, clearly pleased with how things had gone. “so, now that that’s over, how about a tour of the building?” he asked, his tone light but genuine. “i can show you where i spent most of my time while i was a teenager.”

you raised an eyebrow, curious. “alright, lead the way.”

hyunjin’s grin widened as he gestured for you to follow him, his steps light as he led you through the building. the halls were lined with sleek, modern design—clean lines, glass walls, and an almost intimidating level of organization. he seemed at ease in the space, walking with purpose as if he had done it a thousand times.

every so often, he would point out something—a particular room or area—and share little anecdotes about his time there.

“you know, back in the day, trainees used to hang around the hallways, hoping to bump into an idol passing by. i definitely did that way too many times.”

“have you seen it happen?” you teased.

he raised an eyebrow, smirking. “maybe once or twice. but i always knew when they were lurking around. i had my own tricks too.” he winked before leading you toward a door at the end of the hall.

“this is the room i spent most of my time in,” he said, swinging open the door to reveal a simple but spacious practice room. the lights flickered on automatically as he entered, casting the room in a soft glow.

you stepped inside, looking around. the mirrors lined the wall, the floor clear for dancing, and there was a large couch shoved in the corner. you moved toward the couch, sitting down with a small sigh. 

hyunjin stood there for a moment, watching you with a smile before he joined you. he sat down beside you, but his leg was just barely touching yours, and for some reason, it made the room feel even smaller.

he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, a small grin on his face. “so, what do you think? not bad, right?”

you looked around again, the walls still covered in reminders of his hard work. "i like it," you said, smiling back at him. "it feels like the kind of space where countless dreams have been shaped."

hyunjin nodded, his eyes lighting up. "and what about you? what was it like trying to be an actress?"

“i’ve always known what i wanted. i started quite young actually,” you leaned back slightly, hands resting on your lap as you considered his question. "and it’s…different cause i mean, i don’t have to perform on stage or anything. but you’re always expected to bring the character to life, make it feel real."

he nodded, clearly interested. "so, you go off-script a lot?"

"all the time," you said, shrugging. "you can’t always stick to the lines. sometimes i have to adapt, improvise when the scene goes in a direction i didn’t expect."

hyunjin smiled. "that sounds pretty hard. i mean, we don’t get much room to improvise in the same way—everything’s planned out down to the smallest detail in a performance."

"yeah, it’s definitely different," you said, smiling softly. "but i like it.”

he nodded again, his gaze still on you, but this time, there was something else there—something like admiration. 

your heart skipped a beat, your chest tight with that familiar, fluttery feeling that seemed to hit you every time he got too close, every time his eyes stayed on you a little too long. you caught yourself thinking how ridiculously pretty he was, his lips too perfect. you hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath until you exhaled slowly, like your lungs couldn’t handle this much hyunjin in one go.

he was sitting next to you, his knee just barely touching yours, and every time he smiled, you felt a new pang in your chest. you could feel his gaze on you, the way his eyes were tracing the line of your lips like he was somehow as transfixed as you were.

"what?" you asked, your voice coming out a little more flustered than you meant it to. 

he blinked, a slight shift in his expression before his lips curled into a small, sheepish smile. "nothing," he said, but his voice was too soft, too warm for it to feel like an empty response.

and then, it happened. the moment where it all clicked. hyunjin's eyes flickered down to your lips again, that damn glimmer in his eyes making your pulse spike. it was like a game at this point, a silent back-and-forth where he wasn’t backing down, and neither were you.

he’s asking for it.

the thought echoed in your brain before you even realized it was happening. your body moved before you could think, leaning in just the slightest inch... and there it was.

you kissed him.

his lips were so soft, so warm against yours, and you felt your heart race as he kissed you back instantly, as though he’d been waiting for that moment just as much as you had. hyunjin’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. 

everything in you craved more. you shouldn’t want this. you shouldn’t be here, in this moment, with him so close that you could practically feel every inch of his body against yours. but you did. and you couldn’t help it.

your hands moved on their own, sliding up his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. his fingers dug lightly into the small of your back, urging you even closer. it wasn’t okay, not by any standard. it was just him, and you, and the undeniable pull that seemed to have existed between you two since the very first second he stepped into your life.

your breath hitched as you finally pulled away, but he didn’t let go. his lips hovered just above yours, close enough that you could feel the warmth, the soft brush of them against your skin as his breath mingled with yours.

“does this feel familiar to you?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly, the words almost a whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. 

you could feel the question reverberating in your chest. italy. that night. the one you hadn’t been able to forget, the one that haunted the back of your mind every time you saw him. you swallowed hard, suddenly feeling too exposed.

he didn’t kiss you again. instead, his nose gently bumped against yours, his breath warm and soft against your lips. he was hovering there, touching but not pressing, and it was driving you mad. every time his lips ghosted over yours, it felt like an electric jolt, like he was pulling something out of you, some kind of desperation you’d been hiding deep down.

you closed your eyes for a second, trying to control your thoughts, but it was impossible. he was so close. you didn’t know how to pull back when everything inside you was pushing you closer to him.

your chest felt too tight, like you couldn’t get enough air, like you were drowning in him. the warmth of his body, the way his lips barely ghosted over yours—it was too much, he was too much. you wanted him so badly it was dizzying, overwhelming in a way that made your head spin.

but this wasn’t real. it wasn’t supposed to be real.

this was a fake relationship. a cover-up. you weren’t catching feelings. you weren’t.

one kiss couldn’t do that to you. it was just heat, just tension, just a mistake waiting to happen. and if you let yourself sink into it, if you let yourself forget the boundaries, you were going to screw everything up.

you forced yourself to swallow, to push down the lump rising in your throat, but it must have shown on your face because hyunjin suddenly pulled back just slightly, his eyes scanning yours.

“what’s wrong, y/n?” his voice was soft. his hands were still resting on you, still holding you close, but his grip had loosened, giving you space to breathe.

and that was the problem. you didn’t want space. but you needed it.

you exhaled slowly, closing your eyes for a moment before leaning forward, resting your head against his shoulder. the moment you did, his body relaxed beneath you, and his hand came up, settling gently against your back.

he didn’t say anything. he didn’t move. he just held you there, warm and patient, his thumb brushing the fabric of your shirt in the smallest, most grounding motion.

and maybe you needed that more than you realized.

[teh-nos]

loki/william rufus fic, where bill explains that as the second son he has inherited england while big brother bob only got the duchy of normandy, ha ha ha.

[shinoko-oshi]

Simon’s sweet wife

seen other people talk about the task force finding out about Simon’s bird at first in subtle ways so I made this

It started with the lunches.

At first, no one thought much of it. Simon had brought the occasional sandwich before, nothing out of the ordinary. But then it changed. Out went the basic bread and meat, and in came proper meals. Lasagna. Curry. A neatly packed container of something warm and homemade, tucked right beside a little folded note Simon was far too quick to snatch out of sight when Johnny leaned over, grinning.

“C’mon, Simon,” he teased, voice full of curiosity. “Just let us have a peek. We wanna know who’s makin’ you lunch like that, eh?”

Kyle nodded, snickering.

“Piss off,” Simon grumbled, big hand curling protectively around the note like it was a classified file. He didn’t care that they were watching, didn’t even look up. Just reread your words, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth beneath the mask.

“Ay, Johnny, look! you can see a heart through the paper!” Kyle laughed, catching the way the light hit the thin paper just right, revealing the faint outline of a heart signed with your name.

After that, it became a bit of a running joke. Not that Simon gave them anything to work with. But the mystery only deepened when, during a three week deployment at another unit, a care package showed up with his name on it.

To say the guys hovered would be an understatement. Johnny and Kyle practically sat on either side of him like vultures, trying to act casual. Price stayed back in his chair, cigarette between his fingers, looking disinterested but Simon could feel his eyes, just as nosy as the others.

The box had all the essentials: snacks, cold weather gear, a familiar blanket from home. A couple of your sweet notes, some of his favorite tea in bulk. But what really got them going were the Polaroids tucked in between the layers of stuff.

Kyle caught a glimpse of one. Simon sitting on a porch step with you in his lap, your smile soft, his arm wrapped tight around your waist.

Johnny elbowed him. “Alright, Simon. When ’re we gonna meet this mystery missus of yours?”

“She wouldn’t like you.” He grunted in response 

“What is she, a grump like you?”

Hardly.

The real surprise came a few weeks later, when a sweet bird showed up at base asking for Lieutenant Simon Riley.

Price was the first to see you. He’d expected someone with a set it glare, reserved, maybe a little sharp around the edges. Instead, you walked right up to Simon with a warm smile, kissed his cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world, and handed him a jacket. 

Simon knew Price, Kyle, and Johnny were watching from around the corner. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if half the rookies and a few of the other sergeants were too.

But none of that mattered.

Not when his sweet girl was standing in front of him.

“Why are you here, baby?” he asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“You forgot your jacket,” you said, brow furrowed. “And I heard it was supposed to be cold today. I didn’t want you to get sick.”

Your voice alone cracked something in him, and it was impossible not to smile under the mask.

“Y’know I would’ve been fine, love.”

Still, he took the jacket from your hands with a quiet “thank you,” promising to wear it, walking you down the hallway before watching you turn and head back out.

Well— not before Johnny and Kyle caught you at the corner, peering over the wall like a couple of kids up to no good.

They didn’t say much, but by the time Simon heard about it later, you’d already agreed to let them come over for dinner sometime.

He just shook his head. Not even surprised by their antics. But he didn’t say no either.

Because you’d said yes.

So next Saturday, he guessed he’d be setting an extra few plates at the table for Johnny, Kyle, and probably Price, too. 

[mephisto-reporting]

Hearbreak Anniversary with Zayne

Summary: It was your anniversary with Zayne. One year of togetherness. But what if he does not show up when you expect him to? What if he was spending it with MC? Pairing: Non MC! Reader x Zayne Note: MC in this fic goes by the name Lina (my name... so if you are angry, you can be angry at me :3). This oneshot was based on this request. I will write this for the other LADS men too. Also I don't think any of these men would ever be the type to actually willlingly forget it. Especially Zayne. So I had to adapt the request a bit. Content Warning: injuries, panic, insecurities, self worth issues, Zayne POV

Rafayel version | Zayne version | Sylus version | Caleb Version

Zayne’s apartment smelled like him—clean, crisp, and faintly of the eucalyptus-scented candles he kept on the shelves. You sat on the edge of his couch, smoothing the fabric of your dress down your thighs, nerves making your fingers tremble slightly. The dim light of the chandelier cast a soft glow over the room, illuminating the carefully planned surprise you had for him —flowers, his favorite treats, elegant scarves, and jackets you had spent weeks picking out. The final touch was the flexible weekend getaway tickets, somewhere warm and far from the sterility of hospital walls. A place where he could finally rest.

You had gone all out for tonight. The garden-themed restaurant was supposed to be the perfect setting—a quiet, intimate place where vines curled around twinkling fairy lights, and the soft scent of fresh blooms would fill the air. And you had dressed accordingly with something elegant, something that made you feel beautiful for him. The deep navy-blue dress you wore clung to your form just right, the intricate lace details at the sleeves soft against your skin. You had taken your time getting ready, styling your hair to perfection, slipping on a pair of delicate earrings he once admired absentmindedly. A spritz of white jasmine perfume, the one he once said reminded him of spring mornings. You wanted to look like someone worthy of being by his side. You wanted to be beautiful for him, for the man who had somehow, impossibly, fallen for you.

Because, truth be told, there were times you weren’t sure you were.

you still didn’t understand how this happened—how Zayne, the prodigy, the man who could save lives with his hands and mind, had chosen you. He was brilliant, disciplined, and deeply compassionate. And you? You were just… you. Ordinary in comparison. He never made you feel small, never belittled you, but standing beside him you felt you were just lucky to be there. His world was one of brilliance, filled with extraordinary people—Lina, the fearless Deepspace Hunter; his late friend Caleb, a DAA pilot whose loss still lingered in hushed conversations; his esteemed mentors and fellow doctors who spoke in a language you could only ever grasp at the edges. Compared to them, compared to him, you felt so small.

But tonight, none of that mattered. Tonight, was supposed to be about the two of you.

You had fallen for him in the quietest of ways—through the gentle cadence of his voice, through the moments he noticed things others didn’t. How he’d pull a chair out for you before you could do it yourself, how he’d check the temperature of your tea so you wouldn’t burn your tongue, how he’d listen, really listen, to your ramblings even after a 48-hour shift. He had nestled himself into your heart without you even realizing it.

And tonight, he had insisted he wanted to be with you, even with the chaos of the hospital weighing on his shoulders.

The call came two hours before your reservation. You already knew what he was going to say the moment you saw his name flash on your screen.

“Hey, sweetheart…” Zayne’s voice was warm, familiar, but there was an edge of exhaustion to it. “I’m so sorry. I can’t make it tonight.”

Your heart sank, but you swallowed it down, forcing your voice to remain even. “It’s okay, Zayne. I know you’re busy.”

“It's been a long shift, and the surgeries…”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll cancel the reservation. Take some breaks and rest, okay? You sound tired…”

“I am fine, sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you,” he promised. “I swear.”

"It’s fine, Zayne." you whispered, even if it wasn’t. “We’ll just celebrate it another day. No big deal.” Even though it felt like one at the moment.

Still, you weren’t upset. Not really. You understood. You always understood.

You hung up and exhaled slowly, pressing your palms against your lap. It wasn’t his fault. He was working back-to-back shifts, saving lives, doing what he was meant to do. And yet, you couldn’t quite keep the disappointment from settling in your chest.

You exhaled slowly, stripping away the dress you had so eagerly put on just hours ago. You slip into into one of Zayne’s oversized sweaters instead, the one that still smelled like him, the sleeves swallowing your hands. You wear leggings underneath and slip on your shoes. You took your time packing the gifts back into the car, moving slowly, as if dragging out the moment would make it hurt less. Maybe when he was finally done, you could pick him up from the hospital. At least you’d get to see him and surprise him. This was what occupied your time for the next three to four hours.

Once everything was back in the car, you plopped yourself on his plush but ergonomic couch. You scrolled through your phone while waiting, mindlessly tapping through social media, until one post stopped you cold.

Lina’s story.

A picture of her sitting across from Zayne in a small restaurant outside Akso hospital, the caption lighthearted:

When you have to drag out your doctor because he won’t follow his own advice about resting. (-_-)

Zayne looked amused in the photo, tired but still composed, his lips slightly curved in a small, rare smile. He looked… content. His gaze focused on her as if she had just said something ridiculous.

Your fingers trembled as you stared at the screen.

It was stupid. It was so stupid to feel like this. Lina was his childhood best friend. She had never given you a reason to be insecure, and yet, the sting of it hit you like a slow, creeping ache. He had time to go out for a meal with her. He had time to smile like that, even after canceling on you. You knew you were being irrational, that he had only stepped out for a quick bite in his busy shift, yet you felt betrayed.

Tears pricked at your eyes before you could stop them. You wiped them away quickly, but they kept falling, silent at first, then turning into quiet, shuddering sobs. You felt pathetic. Childish. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. You knew he wasn’t. But it hurt anyway. Because you would have taken anything—just a few moments, even just a simple meal at that tiny restaurant, if it meant spending time with him today.

It hurt in a way that made your chest feel tight, made the lump in your throat impossible to swallow. The sting of it crept under your skin like a wound you hadn’t realized was open, raw and aching. The disappointment bled into something uglier, something heavier. Why, after everything, did it feel like you were always on the sidelines of his life? No, Zayne never made you feel that way. It was your own spiraling thoughts.

A loud sob choked its way out, your hands gripping the fabric of his sweater as if that would somehow ground you. You wanted to hate yourself for crying over something so petty. He was saving lives. He was exhausted. He didn’t mean to hurt you.

But it hurt.

You needed to go home. You needed to collect yourself before the ugly thoughts swallowed you whole. You stood up, tears streaming down your face, as the weight of it all seemed too much to bear. You didn’t want to sit here anymore. You didn’t want to wait. You needed to go home, to clear your head, to get away from the overwhelming sense of inadequacy.

You sniffled, grabbing your keys and heading out. The highway would be the fastest route home—less traffic, a straight shot. You rerouted, pressing your foot on the accelerator, trying to breathe through the tightness in your chest. You wiped at your tears quickly, trying to focus on the road.

The road stretched out before you, a wide expanse of concrete and asphalt that felt like it would swallow you whole. The tears wouldn’t stop, and you wiped them away, trying to steady your hands on the wheel, trying to focus on the road ahead. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that you understood, that you were rational about his work. The reality of it, the empty seat next to you, the disappointment of seeing Zayne happy in a photo with someone else, it all felt too much.

And then—

Headlights. Too close. Too fast.

A car jumped the signal, trying to merge into the highway.

You slammed the breaks, the scream of tires against pavement rang in your ears.

The impact was instant. A violent, sickening jolt that sent your body forward, the seatbelt snapping against your chest, the airbag exploding in front of you. The windshield cracked, splintering into a spiderweb of broken glass. Your vision blurred, the world spinning.

Pain.

Your chest burned, lungs straining to catch a breath. Your limbs felt heavy. You reached for the seatbelt, your fingers fumbling, but it was jammed.

Fuck.

Your head lulled forward, resting against the deflated airbag. Your head was heavy, your thoughts slipping away like sand through your fingers. The distant wail of sirens reached your ears, but they felt so far away.

Your vision swam, the edges darkening.

I hope the other person is alright.

The thought barely had time to settle before everything faded into black.

ZAYNE'S POV

The fluorescent lights of the hospital buzzed faintly, casting an artificial glow over the chaos of the emergency room. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and the undercurrent of blood—familiar, almost routine, yet tonight it gnawed at Zayne's nerves in a way he couldn't quite shake. He hadn’t left since he stepped through those doors, yet somehow, the guilt weighing on him had nothing to do with the lives he saved today. It was you.

He was tired. God, was he tired. His body screamed for rest, his temples throbbed from the strain of back-to-back shifts, but the hospital was understaffed, and there was no room for exhaustion when lives were at stake. As a cardiologist, his expertise lay in the intricate mechanics of the human heart, but duty demanded flexibility—especially in the ER. Cardiologists weren’t meant to be dealing with blunt force trauma and lacerations, but tonight, none of that mattered. They needed doctors. He was a doctor. So, he worked.

Even through the fatigue, his mind kept drifting back to you. He could still hear your voice from the call earlier, soft and understanding despite the disappointment laced beneath it. You didn’t deserve this. You had every right to be upset, to be frustrated that he had broken his promise, yet you didn’t even complain. That hurt more than if you had yelled at him

God, he loved you. And he hated himself for testing that patience again and again.

His hand tightened around the pen he was holding. He had plans—plans to make it up to you. The necklace in his office drawer, nestled in a velvet box, had been meant for tonight. Something small, perhaps, compared to everything you did, but a token of his devotion nonetheless. He could still salvage this. Maybe he could call you later, ask if you were still awake—

His device beeped, pulling him back to the present.

MVA on the highway. ETA: 5 minutes.

Multi-vehicle accident. Paramedics on site, victims en route.

Zayne exhaled sharply, shifting into work mode. He stepped into the ER just as the first stretcher was wheeled in. The radio chatter from their comms filled the space.

"Female, mid-to-late twenties, restrained driver, T-bone collision from a vehicle that ran a red light. Airbag deployment, but impact trauma to the chest from seatbelt. BP slightly low, likely from pain response. Tachycardic at 112. GCS is 14. Possible wrist fracture, mild concussion. No signs of internal bleeding from the ultrasound, but needs further imaging to rule out any complications."

He nodded briskly, slipping into the detached, clinical efficiency that had been drilled into him for years. It was only as he stepped forward, pulling the curtain aside, that his breath caught in his throat.

His world stopped.

There, on the hospital bed, was you.

Lying on the hospital bed, your hair disheveled, your skin pale against the stark white sheets. His breath lodged in his throat, the world narrowing to a pinpoint focus on the rise and fall of your chest. He couldn't move. Couldn't think. There was dried blood at your temple, your lower lip swollen where you must have bitten down upon impact. The sight of the IV line in your arm, the faint bruises forming along your collarbone—he couldn’t breathe.

No. No. No. No. No.

"Dr. Zayne…" Yvonne’s voice cut in, sharp and urgent. A warning. He was frozen. This wasn't just a patient. This was you.

He blinked, his hands suddenly trembling as he reached for his gloves. Breathe. He had to focus. Had to push past the sheer, gut-wrenching fear threatening to paralyze him.

This is her. She was waiting for me. She—

"Dr. Zayne!!" Yvonne pressed, handing him the updated chart. "She needs you."

That snapped him out of it.

The moment his hands touched you, they were steady again. His voice was even as he examined you, the motions automatic, controlled. He checked your pupils, gently palpated your ribs to assess for fractures. He was a doctor. He was your doctor right now. He had to move. Focusing, he reached for his stethoscope, pressing it against your chest to listen for abnormalities. The rhythm of your heart was steady, but your breathing was just slightly labored—likely from the seatbelt trauma.

"You’re going to be fine." he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

You were stable.

"Her left shoulder—check for AC joint separation," he murmured, voice steadier than he felt. "Get a CT to rule out any internal injuries. And…" He swallowed. “Get me images from the crash site.” He needed to see how bad the collison was. He had to.

The hours blurred. He monitored your scans, adjusted your IV, checked your vitals more times than necessary. Each time his eyes drifted to you; his chest ached. He had seen the accident reports—your car, your windshield shattered, the crumpled hood. And the contents scattered across the scene…

You had planned everything.

For him.

And he wasn’t there.

Zayne clenched his jaw. Flowers were scattered, crushed against the upholstery. The pastries you must have picked out for him were ruined; their boxes torn open from the force of the crash. And gifts. There were so many gifts. He hadn’t even known you had planned all this.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

You had so much waiting for him. And where had he been? At a hole-in-the-wall restaurant, eating with Lina because she forced him to take a break. He had been smiling in that photo while you were—

God.

He ran a hand down his face, exhaling shakily as he sat by your bedside. He should have been with you. If he had just—

The monitor beeped steadily, a quiet reminder that you were alive.

Now, he sat beside you, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest, fingers curled into his palms to keep them from shaking.

"Wake up, sweetheart." he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "Please, just wake up."

And for once, Zayne—brilliant, composed, always in control—felt utterly powerless.

The beep of the heart monitor was steady, rhythmic, but Zayne found himself gripping the edge of his chair every time you stirred, waiting for that moment when your eyes would finally open. His body was stiff from staying in the same position for hours, but he didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to miss it.

Then, a small shift in your breathing. A twitch of your fingers.

Zayne leaned forward just as your lashes fluttered, your eyes cracking open, only to squeeze shut again at the harsh fluorescent lights. You groaned softly, shifting against the sheets. Instinctively, you tried to sit up.

"Hey—stay put," Zayne said immediately, pressing a hand against your shoulder to keep you down. His touch was gentle but firm, his fingers warm even against the hospital gown. "Don’t move too much yet."

Your body resisted for a moment, muscles tensing as if you wanted to argue, but the disorientation dulled your fight. Your gaze finally settled on him, hazy with the remnants of sleep and confusion.

Then you frowned.

“…You look tired,” you murmured, your voice soft, still groggy. “How long have you been here?”

Zayne’s heart clenched so tightly it hurt. Even now, even when you were the one lying in a hospital bed, barely recovered from an accident, your first thoughts were about him.

His throat felt tight, but he exhaled sharply, forcing himself to speak. “You should look at yourself first, sweetheart.”

Your gaze flickered down, taking in the IV in your arm, the bruises along your wrist, the faint soreness that no doubt ached across your body. Zayne exhaled sharply and reached out, his fingertips tracing the side of your face before cupping your cheek fully. His thumb brushed lightly against your skin, as if grounding himself with the warmth of you. His eyes were moist, though no tears fell.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice low, raw in a way that stripped away every layer of his usual composure.

You parted your lips, breath hitching as if you were about to reassure him—to do what you always did, to let him off the hook, to tell him it wasn’t his fault.

But he didn’t let you.

“No,” he cut in firmly, shaking his head. “Not this time. This is the one time you shouldn’t be so understanding.” His jaw clenched, something bitter twisting in his expression. “I should have been there. We should have been celebrating our relationship. End of discussion.”

Silence settled between you.

After a beat, he exhaled, running a hand through his hair before looking at you again. “Why didn’t you demand my time?” His voice was quieter now, tinged with regret. “You had every right to.”

You hesitated, glancing away. “…I didn’t want to bother you.” Your fingers twisted into the hospital blanket, grip tightening slightly. “You’re important, Zayne. You save lives. I didn’t want to pull you away from that.”

Something in him snapped.

He let out a sharp breath, then reached for your hand, gently prying your fingers from the blanket. His grip was warm, grounding.

“Shh… And you think you’re not?” he murmured, shaking his head. “Don’t ever say that again.” His gaze bore into yours, unwavering. “You are important to me.”

"You’re important to me," he repeated, voice steady but almost desperate. "Just like my work makes demands of me, you are more than entitled to make demands of me, too."

Your eyes searched his, uncertainty flickering beneath the lingering haze of exhaustion. But Zayne’s gaze didn’t waver.

"I know I should have been there," he said again, quieter this time. He hesitated for only a fraction of a second before brushing a thumb over the edge of your jaw, tilting your face slightly. “When I saw you on this bed when I entered the ER… pale, unconscious… I haven’t felt fear like that before," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not in all my years of doing this. Not like that."

You didn’t say anything, but your hand came up slowly, resting over his.

He closed his eyes briefly, exhaling.

This—this was what he almost lost.

His jaw clenched, then loosened as he exhaled. “I don’t want to ever feel it again.”

Another pause.

Zayne inhaled deeply, steadying himself. His hand still cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing absentminded circles against your skin, as if reassuring himself that you were still here. That you were warm. That he hadn’t lost you.

“I know I say I’m sorry a lot… and it probably has lost meaning to you.” he murmured; his voice rough with emotion. His lips pressed into a thin line, as if struggling to put his feelings into something more tangible. “I should have been there. And I will be. Every step of the way until you’re fully recovered and after....”

His eyes flickered downward, scanning you like the doctor he was, but this was different. This wasn’t just clinical analysis—this was personal. "You got lucky," he admitted, exhaling through his nose. "Blunt force trauma to the ribs, a mild concussion, and a broken wrist. Some lacerations on your arm and leg, but nothing deep enough to require surgical intervention. The worst was the head trauma, but the scans came back clear. No bleeding, no swelling. That’s the only reason I’m not having a complete breakdown right now…" His fingers ghosted over your arm, careful not to apply pressure. "Nothing life-threatening or with lasting consequences. But still… you shouldn’t have had to go through that alone." His jaw tensed. "Not when you have me."

You gave him a small, tired smile at that, and something inside him twisted.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to reach into his pocket, his fingers closing around the small velvet box. He’d gone to his office to clock off for the day to be beside you when he picked it up from his drawer. The very box he wanted to give you today. The one that was supposed to be given in a far more joyful setting. This was supposed to be today. A night spent celebrating the two of you—not this. Not hospital beds and IV drips and the hollow fear that had nearly swallowed him whole.

But none of that mattered now.

What mattered was that you were here. And this… this was still yours.

His throat felt thick as he flipped it open, revealing the necklace inside—a delicate silver chain holding a white jasmine pendant, smooth and polished, its petals carved with intricate detail. And behind it, barely visible, were his initials.

His fingers trembled just slightly as he took it out.

"I was supposed to give this to you today," he admitted, voice lower now, almost guilty. "Before all of this. Before I let my own priorities get in the way of what really mattered." He glanced up at you, and for the first time in a long time, he looked vulnerable. "I don’t want you to ever think that you come second. Because you don’t. You never have."

Gently, he reached around your neck, his touch featherlight as he fastened the clasp. The cool metal of the pendant settled just above your collarbone, resting against your skin. His fingertips lingered there, just briefly.

Then he let out a slow breath, tilting your chin up just slightly with his knuckles. His mind still reeled with everything that had happened, with everything he should have done differently.

"I love you," he said, and this time there was no hesitation, no wry smirk to mask his emotions, no half-hearted deflection. Just honesty, raw and unguarded. "Even when I do a crappy job at showing it." He didn’t need you to say it back—he just needed you to know.

For a moment, silence stretched between you. Then, his lips quirked, just slightly, into something softer. "And since I’m apparently on mandatory bedside duty, I hope you’re ready to be completely spoiled. I’m talking fresh coffee, extra pillows, a ridiculous number of medical advices—"

A small, breathy laugh escaped you, and Zayne felt something in his chest loosen at the sound. Then, slowly, you lifted a hand, brushing your fingertips over the pendant before reaching up to cup his cheek.

Zayne leaned into your touch instinctively, exhaling softly. He smiled, finally, pressing his forehead lightly against yours. "Yeah," he murmured. "We’ll be just fine. I've got you sweetheart... I'll always be here for you."

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

Rafayel version | Zayne version | Sylus version | Caleb Version

Taglist: @cordidy, @natimiles @leighsartworks216 @notisekais @raining4food @fallthelong @pomegranatepip @juliuscaesarsstabbedback @krystallevine @lemurianmaster @nenggie @loverindeepspace @sinsodom

[paarksunghoon]

resignation | sunghoon

SUMMARY: For the last six years, you’ve dedicated your career to ensuring Park Sunghoon never misses a day of work in his life. But you’re tired of endless days that seem to blend together, and seeing him living his fun, luxurious lifestyle makes you think about what else you might be missing out on. When Sunghoon finds your resignation letter on his desk, he does everything in his power to convince you to stay.

NOTES: desperately need to rant about my life and I’m doing it by way of enhypen 😩 this is a small little chapter and I have no idea if I’m gonna make this a whole thing, but we’ll see. enjoy for now and let me know your thoughts! xx

WARNINGS: none :)

SERIES PLAYLIST + SERIES MASTERLIST

***

Like a bird stuck in a metal cage, you feel trapped in an enclosure that’s meant to prevent you from flying away. That’s what it feels like to work at Park Inc., an international venture capitalist firm that serves Asia and the greater North American and European landscape. Your job is boring and meaningless, and today is the day you decided to do something about it. 

Your alarm rings every morning at 5 A.M. on the dot and today is no exception. Since becoming Park Sunghoon’s assistant six years ago, you’ve learned the masterful art of never hitting snooze after hearing an earful from Sunghoon himself when he requested your presence the following hour (you failed to arrive in time and learned to never go back to sleep unless it was your day off). 

This life seemed like a dream at the ripe age of twenty-one. Freshly graduated from college with no real career goal in mind, one of your academic mentors suggested entering the workforce as a personal assistant to gain social capital and learn about different areas of industry that could potentially lead you towards a career. Your measly business degree left you feeling unfulfilled and your parents’ aloof demeanor towards the lack of job offers lining up after graduating wasn’t the kind of news you were ecstatic about. You jumped at the chance to work as a personal assistant with the assumption that it would be the kind of job that you could pursue in the meantime until something else came along.

This position at Park Inc. fell into your lap like some kind of dumb luck. The role wasn’t posted on any job site. Rather, your name had been submitted on behalf of your academic advisor, which got you your first interview. You suppose that must be some kind of nepotism. After six separate interviews over the course of three months, the job was yours.

You’d saved up enough money, working the night shift at a local restaurant to afford a rundown apartment and a new office-appropriate wardrobe from the local second hand stores in your neighborhood. Pencil skirts, fashionable blouses, heels that promised to last a long time, and blazers that looked professional enough lined your closets for future use. It was an exciting prospect and starting your new life after graduating university felt like a different ball park than when you were still pursuing your degree. 

Despite all of that, you feel listless.

Your days begin before the sun rises and ends just after sunset. Anticipating Sunghoon’s needs is seamless for you, to the point where you’re able to think on his behalf without second guessing yourself. He agrees on most days and doesn’t put up much of a fight when it comes to business matters because you’ve been by his side for over half a decade. You’ve picked him up from many late night rendezvous with women who definitely wanted more than he was willing to give, and you’ve accompanied him to events where he couldn’t bother asking somebody to be his date. You’re his assistant, and therefore you’re always available. 

But you’re just the help. You don’t have any real stake in Park Inc., nor does anybody take you seriously unless Sunghoon agrees with your opinion. You know this company inside and out, and you know exactly how Sunghoon envisions this company to succeed. You act like you’re a managing partner without the title because you’re by his side nearly every hour of the day, and it’s gotten to a point where people me either whisper about a silent affair, or look at you with sympathy because Sunghoon can’t seem to function without you. 

It was fun, at first. Learning how to stand on your own two feet while leaving everything you knew behind felt exhilarating. Abandoning your hometown to explore the big city was a dream come true, and you envisioned all of the late night food runs you’d go on in an attempt to explore each neighborhood within Seoul. The beginning was tolerable at best—if you count crying in your small apartment after thinking you’d never get the hang of this job—and Sunghoon knew to delegate tasks to you based on experience level. He had you fetch coffee and take care of his dry cleaning in the first few months, on top of organizing multiple reports until you were ready for more. He was kind like that, and you’re sure his willingness to help you in your career was why you stayed for as long as you have. 

Six years ago, receiving the amount of responsibility you carry felt like you’d reached the top of the tallest mountain after dreaming of the day Sunghoon could trust you enough to let you do your job without much supervision. You could complete a task for him before he delegated it to you, because you understood his workflow and what needed to be prioritized. The both of you worked well like that, and after six years of getting to know each other, many would say you’re both joined at the hip professionally. 

It comes to a point where you learn that the Sunghoon you see is far different than the Sunghoon everybody else sees. He’s naturally funny and a bit clumsy. He’s professional and stoic when he needs to be, but behind closed doors, Sunghoon laughs your ear off about old men who think they can walk all over his business tactics and people who are too rich to see that they’re the problem. Sunghoon is the best boss you’ve ever had, bar none. 

He’s unlike any of the wealthy, stuck up assholes you deal with on a daily basis. Sunghoon hides his witty, flirty personality behind a professional face in the eyes of higher ups and investors who he does business with. He keeps his personal and work life separate, as far as he can, with the exception of occasionally letting women he meets accompany him to select events that almost always end up in having to kick them out of his penthouse apartment the morning after if they haven’t left already. His lifestyle is one you’ll never get used to. Even after six years working beside Sunghoon, you go back to your humble one bedroom apartment, the same one you moved into once you were able to afford living without any roommates. 

It seems as though life moves for Sunghoon. He doesn’t have to do or say much to get people to fall to their knees or grant his every wish. He’s good looking (that’s something you’ll never deny because he’s objectively handsome), he manages to say all the right things, and he’s really good at his job. Sunghoon comes from a powerful and wealthy family that’s existed in Seoul for as long as anyone can remember, and there aren’t many bad things people say about him behind his back. He’s risky but strategic, gambling on chances that would typically slip through the cracks if not for his watchful eye and modern approach to business. 

You’ve learned a lot from him, too. Sunghoon grew into the man he is today. He’s no longer the overly arrogant and cocky person he was when you first met him, and he’s gained a deeper understanding of the company he’s about to inherit once his father transitions his title unto him. There’s much to be said about powerful men who choose to view everybody he works with as an equal, and while you might legally be his personal assistant, Sunghoon has allowed you to partake in the business too. You’ve been his right hand man ever since he realized you knew the company as well as he did. Yet, you can’t help but feel utterly stuck in this endless cycle of work, work, and more work.

There must be something out there for you that doesn’t consist of answering emails and letting your inbox pile up until the stress eats you alive. Being able to travel alongside Sunghoon for business opportunities has granted you a pathway to see the world, but it’s not enough to accompany somebody else. You want to explore the world by yourself and create agendas for your taste and likeliness, not Sunghoon or potential business partners while you sit in the back and take notes during every conversation. You want to live your life without being chained to a desk and learn what it feels like to try something new. 

For the past six years, your life has been dedicated to Sunghoon and only Sunghoon. 

“Sir?” You say tentatively, knocking on his door while pushing the heavy wooden door open. 

“Come in.” 

You know well enough he’s got nothing on his schedule that would impose a distraction. You slip into the room and close the door behind you with your fingers gripping a beige Manila folder behind your back. Sunghoon wears a suit that’s tailored to his likeness and his hair is slicked back like he’s trying to resemble Patrick Bateman from American Psycho. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure of an unscheduled interruption?” Sunghoon asks with humor in his tone. He knows you typically keep to your inbox unless something is imminently urgent.

He turns around from looking outside of his window and watches as you hesitantly walk towards his desk. The office space is huge, bigger than your entire living room, and the sudden realization that you’re about to make the biggest change of your life is weighing on your shoulders. Your feet feel heavy beneath you when Sunghoon glances between your face and the folder in your hands. 

“What’s this?”

You don’t hesitate to open it and put it on his desk facing up.

“My resignation letter.” 

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Sunghoon stares at the letter you’ve typed out and notices the large, black signature at the bottom of the page. His eyes flicker back at you as if to detect any lie in your face before he scoffs with a short laugh.

“Right. April Fool’s Day has already passed. No need to keep me on my toes like you usually do, though I appreciate a good joke.” 

You shake your head. “I’m being serious, Sir. I’m quitting.” 

The seriousness of your voice seems to catch him. He takes a seat on his leather chair and pulls himself closer to the desk to fully examine the letter.

“Dear Mr. Park, I am writing to inform you that I will be resigning from my position as your personal assistant at Park Incorporated. My final day will be two months from the day I hand you this resignation letter. I am committed to ensuring a smooth transition, and will facilitate seeking a replacement while I complete projects and tasks on my docket.” 

He looks up at you.

“You’re breaking up with me.” 

“No, I’m quitting this job.”

“Which is the same as breaking up with me. You’re my business partner, for God’s sake. You come with me to every meeting and important event that requires my presence.”

“I’m your assistant. There are many people who would die to be able to do that for you.”

He looks at you like you’ve set his office on fire. “I will not let you quit.” 

You tilt your head. “That’s not how it works, you know. Soobin from HR will process my resignation, even if you beg him not to. I’m giving you a two months' notice because that is how much I value my time here.” Sunghoon clasps his hands as if trying to make sense of the matter.

“But why? Why now? You’re impeccable at your job. Is the pay not suitable enough for you? I can give you a generous bonus and pay raise, if that will convince you to stay. Do you want a bigger office or reduced working hours?” 

“I don’t need any of that. I’ve made up my mind, Sir.”

“Why?” 

With a sigh, you sit down in front of him. “I’ve spent nearly every day for the last six years catering to the needs of you and this company. I’ve loved my time here, and I credit my ability to navigate this industry to you and this job. You’ve given me incredible opportunities that I probably wouldn’t have gotten elsewhere, and it’s been fun learning the ins and outs of this business.

“But I don't have a personal life at all. My days are spent catering to your needs. I don’t have many friends aside from the people I see in this building. I don’t travel and I’ve had to miss important family milestones because of work obligations.”

“Is more time off what you need?” Sunghoon interrupts. “You’ve earned your fair share of requested time offs, even if it’s a personal day for no reason. You’re responsible enough for me to know you can handle your workload when you get back.” 

You shake your head. “It’s not just that. I…I don’t meet new people anymore. I don’t make new friends and I don’t date because this job eats up my life. I feel like I’ve been wrapped up in this company and doing whatever it takes to help it succeed while neglecting my own needs. I’ve had six incredible years, but it’s time for me to move on.”

“…Date?”

With a sigh, you respond. “Yes, Sir. Just because you can find women at the snap of your fingers doesn't mean that everybody else can too.” 

“You don’t date at all?”

You scratch the inside of your wrist at his question. “I can’t date. I don’t have the time to.”

“So you’re quitting because you want to date.”

“No. I’m quitting because I want to experience life without being on call for when you need my help.” 

Sunghoon purses his lips and you can’t read his expression. In the years you’ve worked with him, learning his every mood has been critical to maintaining cordial balance between the two of you, and with other people who Sunghoon isn’t particularly fond of. You’ve extinguished emotional fires just by glancing at him, but the way he looks at you is something you can’t seem to figure out. 

While you wouldn’t say you’re exceptionally close with Sunghoon, you’d argue your relationship to him is far closer than other assistants in the firm. He might be hard headed and stubborn, but he’s compassionate and understanding. He doesn’t expect you to stay in the office until he leaves unless explicitly stated (which consists of half the week, but you can’t complain when some of your colleagues are constantly working longer days than you). 

He compensates you well from time to time, buying you new wardrobe for events he’s requested you to be at. You have a drawer full of exquisite jewelry. You’ve had the privilege of accompanying him on international business trips. From the outside, your life looks like one glamour shot that’s been afforded to you through diligent work, which is partially true, but seldom do people see the dark circles underneath your eyes or how many meals you skip because you need to cater to Sunghoon’s needs. 

For as lucky as your career has been thus far, it’s all on company time, and nothing is ever because you want to. You get the perks, but it’s a transaction. There’s nothing you want more than the freedom to choose what time you wake up and what time you go to bed.

“I can’t say I’m too happy with this news,” Sunghoon says as he leans back on his chair. “You and I work together really well. I don’t think I’ve ever had an assistant as diligent and as smart as you.” 

“You had three assistants before I came into the picture.” 

“They were terrible. Why did you think you went through six interviews?” 

“I can train my predecessor to be as excellent as I can be. I can do it in two months because that’s the time it took me to get used to you and your habits.” 

Sunghoon remains silent for a moment. 

“They’ve got big shoes to fill.” 

Part of you thinks he’s accepted your resignation. He doesn’t immediately grab the Manila folder with the papers in it. Rather, he closes it and keeps it shut on his desk with his hands clasped like he’s afraid it’s going to materialize and escort you out of his office.  

“You’re still needed for events and other internal-facing meetings until your time comes to an end.” 

“Of course, Sir.”

The corner of his mouth tugs upwards. “There’s one tonight. I wasn’t going to have you come to this one initially, but given the circumstances, I think it’s fair that we squeeze in as many as possible before you’re off the hook, no?”

You can’t say you’re incredibly excited by the idea, but knowing Sunghoon, he’s either forgotten he needs someone to act as arm candy or one of his many flings bailed on him at the last minute. 

“I’ll have my car pick you up from your apartment at 8 P.M. Don’t worry about checking in early tomorrow, either. Come in at nine instead, and get some sleep tonight.” 

Nine is still early, especially if you’re going to accompany Sunghoon to an event this evening, but it’s better than getting four hours of shut eye before you’re needed the next day. 

***

A section of your wardrobe is dedicated to items Sunghoon has gifted you throughout the years you’ve been with him. They’re far more expensive and of higher quality than the garments you buy for yourself, and the jewelry is far too precious for you to mix in with your everyday wear. They sit in their own designated section, away from your business attire and weekend wear.

Back when you started this position, Sunghoon found it amusing that you refused the luxurious gifts he’d offer for large tasks such as acting as a liaison at black tie events or helping him with projects that required you to look more presentable than remaining in an office. He bought you enough dresses, shoes, and jewelry until you were able to rotate a few pieces so that you’d never have to wear the same thing twice in a row. To assuage your mind about the prices of each item, Sunghoon would tell you to wear it out on a date with a special someone or to important events that required you to dress up a bit.  

When you pull out a sleek baby blue powder dress that hugs your body in all the right places and jewelry to match, the memory makes you laugh. There hasn’t been any time for engaging in those types of things and your life does not reflect that of Sunghoon’s. They gather dust in your closet until you’re needed to make an appearance as his well-trained, capable assistant. His colleagues know to defer to you unless Sunghoon’s word needs to be confirmed, and that’s how the dynamic has been for the entirety of your working relationship with him. 

You don’t put much effort into your appearance tonight. After touching up your makeup and slipping on a pair of black sling backs that match a black Italian clutch purse he had gifted you on your first international trip, you wait for the car to arrive at your doorstep. 

Surprisingly, Sunghoon steps out from the backseat and holds the door open for you.

“…Sir?” 

“Right on time. You look stunning.” 

His compliment flies over your head as you try to make sense of what you’re seeing. You’re used to meeting Sunghoon at the fairgrounds and not holding the door open for you in his personal mode of transportation. The only time the two of you arrive together is when you depart from the office. Sunghoon is a busy man who makes work his priority. He doesn’t escort you from place to place. That’s your job.

“What are you doing here?” 

He beckons you inside of the car. The partition is raised to give the two of you some privacy. Sunghoon slides into the backseat and puts a respectable distance between the two of you when the driver begins to drive away.

“It dawned on me that I rely you on you for so many things, and yet, I can’t seem to take an hour of my day to ride with you to events I’ve asked you to be at.” 

“It’s my job.”

“No, your job is to make sure I don’t lose my head.”

“If letting you work while I drive alone makes your head stay on your shoulders, I think that’s a job well done.” 

He purses his lips. “Still, I don’t think ending my workday early to pick you up will kill me.” You raise your eyebrow at him.

“This isn’t changing my mind, Sir. I still plan to leave the company.”

Sunghoon shrugs. “Worth a try. But I meant what I said about accompanying you. We’re a team, even if your position is just my assistant.”

“Sir—”

“Sunghoon,” he interrupts. “Call me Sunghoon.”

“...Sunghoon.” He smiles.

“That’s more like it.” 

***

will there be a part 2? who knows

[blueivyy99]

Finding a photo of his ex

Sylus x Non-MC

summary: a painful break up with your ex left you insecure, like you were never enough no matter what you do. then Sylus came to mend your heart. but when you found out who his past girlfriend was, you're left thinking: will he be like your ex?

tags: insecurities, exes zayne and non-mc, slight angst, comfort, fluff, sweet bf sylus, not set in LADS universe, VERY OOC Zayne description

note: SORRY ZAYNE I LOVE YOU PLS FORGIVE ME

taglist: @animegamerfox @lazypostfandomer

It was an accident. You were rummaging in Sylus's storage room looking for some books to pass by some time. You found one that piqued your interest; the book is squished under one of the old boxes obviously forgotten you pulled it out and looked over the pages.

As you were skimming, a photograph fell to the floor. When you picked it up and examined the photo your breath hitched when your eyes saw a familiar woman.

In the photo, she is grinning from ear to ear while Sylus gives her hand a kiss.

It was MC with Sylus.

This is not the first time you encountered her. Since she is a woman you know too well. The very woman who is the reason for your insecurities. The same woman who stole your previous boyfriend away.

You took a deep breath trying to calm yourself down. You knew that Sylus had a previous relationship. He knew about your past as well but you didn't expect that MC would be his ex.

Well, you didn't ask, that's one thing. But life seems to just like playing with you. Seeing her face again brought back bitter memories and little seeds of doubt started sprouting in your heart.

You didn’t mean to fall for another one of MC’s ghosts.

Zayne was first. Quiet, reserved, and soft spoken Doctor Zayne. You remembered chasing him back then. Asking to get noticed, being overly happy when given a mere glance. So when he relented and gave you a “chance" you wasted no time and showed him how much you love him.

At first, it was okay. You keep telling yourself that it's just the way he is and in no time, he will open up to you and let his walls break down but that didn't happen.

Not with you, at least.

Because when you saw him one time laughing and smiling with his childhood friend, suddenly everything just made sense.

What you were begging for him to do with you comes so naturally for him when it comes to her.

Lunch with you in the office? Nope, too unprofessional. But with MC, he would even go as far as cooking for the both of them.

Dinner after work? He's too tired to even lift a leg. But wouldn't mind driving to go to her place when she asked him to.

One social media post about you? Oh hell nah. He is not a social media person anyway. But would occasionally post their arcade escapades with a sassy caption.

You confronted him about it, but he just told you that it meant nothing. That she is a childhood friend nothing more and that she has a boyfriend.

But you knew that he was lying of course. You spent ages trying to learn him and loving him. You saw how his eyes had that air of sadness and anger when says that MC already has a boyfriend.

It was not a surprise when he started spending less time with you when the news of MC and her boyfriend broke up. Of course he'd be there.

But the more he kept choosing to be with her, the more you started spiralling to sadness as well.

You kept trying and trying to keep him by your side. Being the docile girlfriend that he needs. Never demanding, never yelling, never crying.

You held onto him long enough to believe he might look back.

But he never did.

So you let him go.

Or maybe he let you go first, you didn't know.

The break up became more of a relief for him and that's what struck the most. A part of you hoped he would at least feel remorseful and maybe even regret but there is none.

So you left. But with more insecurities as ever.

Was it really that hard for him to love you?

Was there anything you didn't do?

Why was it easy for him to just let you go and leave like you didn't matter?

Did he really love you or did he just get in a relationship with you to stop you from chasing him like a wild dog?

You ponder over it for a year or two. Just accepting that maybe you're just no match for her and guys like Zayne would always, always choose a woman like her over a woman like you. Because of that you swore to never love again.

Then came Sylus.

Rough, loud, reckless Sylus, who didn’t ask you to be anything. The same Sylus who didn't force you to return his feelings when he figured that you weren't ready yet and let you at your own pace.

Sylus who became the receiving end of your insecurities but gently kissed all the doubts away. Sylus who made you feel like loving again doesn't sound bad as it seems.

With him, the ache didn’t fade to zero but it stopped owning you.

Not until you saw this photo.

You have been doing a good job of reigning over the dark thoughts brought by your past but seeing this just makes you question everything.

Sylus never gave you a chance to doubt him. He showed you every day that his eyes are set on you and you alone. That no matter how many women fawn over him, he will always choose you.

But because of this stupid photo, you're seeing yourself as that same woman five years ago. Pathetic and a loser content with just a scrap of affection from her boyfriend.

The boyfriend who will choose the same woman in this damned photo over and over again.

You knew Sylus isn't like that.

Right?

But a voice in your head tells you that it will only take a matter of time before he realizes that she is the better option. That you are not worth wasting his time for. That once the opportunity presents itself, he will toss you aside like Zayne did just so he can run to her.

Sobs broke out of your lips and the photo on your hand is already crumpled by how much you're gripping it.

Just the thought of Sylus giving you that cold dismissive look made your heart shatter. It didn't help when the memory of you breaking up with Zayne and he had the audacity to be relieved kept popping in your head but this time, Sylus's face was in it.

It had been five years since that night. But everything is still fresh. Everything is still vivid. You don't know where Zayne is. You're not gonna bother finding out anyway.

But you're in the same city and Sylus crossing paths with MC is not impossible.

What if he sees her and thinks that he's wasting time with you?

What if he is with you out of pity because of how miserable you were before?

Your head is aching at all the thoughts swirling in your mind.

“– Sweetie?” Sylus's voice took you out of your haze. "What's happening?”

He looks at your tears streaked face and he quickly gathers you in his arms, grounding you back to reality. You sobbed in his chest holding him tightly. Silently begging for him not to go.

He took your hand and gently removed the photo from your grip, throwing it away on the floor. Connecting two and two together.

“I'm sorry, darling. Should've thrown that away. I didn't know it's still there." You feel him kissing your head and rubbing your back trying to make you stop from crying.

“P-please, please, don't leave me for her," you whimpered. “I'll do everything … anything. Just don't go."

You held him tighter while hoping and begging.

You felt him stiffen and you brace yourself for the worst. Maybe this is the part that he tells you that he will still leave. Maybe it's a good thing that you finally gave him a way out of this relationship just like what Zayne did.

He cupped your cheeks and looked at you with such bewilderment. “Where is this coming from? I'm not leaving you, sweetie. Never in a million years."

Fresh set of tears fell from your eyes again.

“B-but it's her. Everyone chooses her.” You replied.

Sylus isn't strange to the fact that your ex left you as a mess. He was there to help you pick up the broken pieces after all. He still wants to beat up your ex for being such an asshole.

But hearing you say those words, a realization occurred to him.

"Her? You mean the woman you told me about was MC?"

You nodded your head.

"My sweet little darling,” he wiped your tears away. "Try not to worry about it, okay? I won't leave you. I would die before anyone could take me away from your side. I love you. I love you so much.”

You yelped when suddenly his strong arms are lifting you up carrying you, transporting you back to the living room and settling in the couch making you sit on his lap.

“The best days of my life are with you, sweetie. I'd be a fool to let you go." He said. Your heart thumping at the sincerity in his tone. “You are perfect for me. The one I've been waiting for my whole life. Even if the women from my past come back and try to take me, I will always choose you. I will always stay with you for as long as you want me to."

You looked at his eyes. Trying to find deception and lies. But all there was was his overwhelming sincerity. You're trying hard not to believe him, but there is something in his gaze that begs you to have faith in him.

“Don't say that," you said almost above a whisper.

“Hmm why not?" He said with a little teasing in his voice sensing the shift in your mood.

“I might not let you go if you keep telling me those things."

A low chuckle escaped his lips. "Is that so? Then allow me to shower you with assurance so you'll hold me tight, sweetie.”

He held one of your cheeks and looked you straight to the eyes, “I love you. I'm not like your ex. I won't leave. You're not a burden to me, darling. As long as I'm alive, you're wanted here in my heart, sweetie.”

When he leaned closer to kiss your lips, you held on to him tightly pulling him closer as you answered his kisses. One by one, all your doubts were washed away.

Every brush of his lips against yours is a confession of his love, his loyalty. One that you have never felt before in your previous relationship.

“I love you, Sylus." You said in between kisses. It made him groan and kiss you more fervently.

As Sylus held you tenderly, softly caressing you and kissing you gently, you feel a part of you getting healed.

As your bodies collide, he reminds you that for him you are enough.

And maybe that's all you needed. To feel loved, cherished and assured that no matter how perfect she might be, someone will choose you within a heartbeat.

Thoughts? Comments? Lemme hear ❤️ luv u! Hope u enjoyed.

[thetriumphantpanda]

take me to florida | joel miller

summary | turning up on his doorstep covered in blood was not was Joel had expected of you, and when you open your mouth, he expects it even less. There's a shitstorm in Texas you both have to escape from, but how long can it last?

pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

word count | 4,496

warnings | it's a lot. Descriptions of murder (stabbing), blood, violence, domestic violence and the death penalty (yeah idk either don't ask), basically reader does a bad thing to someone who did bad things to her. One singular slap (reader to Joel). Mentions of adultery and cheating. Explicit smut - grinding/dry-humping, fingering, rough sex, biting, squirting. No use of y/n. No outbreak AU.

authors note | *taps mic* is this thing on? Hi! It's been a whilst hasn't it?! I've been doing life, enjoying being offline and in love and all of that stuff, but the new series has my brain WHIRLING and I wanted to share this with you all. I wrote most of this back in the autumn last year and was inspired to finish it, so here you go. Let me know if I've still got it! As always if you enjoy this, please like, reblog, comment or scream in my ask box. I've missed you.

Divider by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

It’s viscous, dripping down the back of your hand, seeping through the webbing of your fingers. Crimson staining the floor as it drips from the tip of the knife, pooling around the body, slumped against the wall now. Your limbs are heavy, vice grip on the handle easing, arm dropping to your side as the knife clatters to the floor. Your chest is heaving, sucking in air, you steady yourself by putting your palms against your knees, bending over, trying not to throw up. There’s a pool of blood forming against the toe of your shoe, deep red staining white canvas. No-one ever mentions how messy it is, but then again, not many people stick a knife into their husband’s ten times. There are splatters across the wall, you can feel some of the warmth seeping down your forehead, you can taste it on your mouth when you lick your lips to wet them.

You let out an animalistic groan as you straighten up, the fucker deserved it, you think, picking the knife up from the ground, wiping both sides of the blade against the white of your tank top. Pushed you and pushed you until you broke. Put his hands on you one too many times with no remorse, no punishment. Called you a useless whore for the last time. There was some sick sense of satisfaction the bloomed when your mind replays the the look of shock on his face when you’d stabbed him the first time, like he couldn’t believe you had the guts. By the fifth time, there wasn’t anything behind those eyes of his, but you added five more just to be sure.

There’s a rage simmering underneath your skin still. Rage at the fact that no matter how many police reports you’d filed, how many hospital trips for split lips and black eyes, the law were going to come for you, and you’d go down, no doubt about it. That distinct feminine rage that a man could push you to the limit and back, and it’s still going to be your fucking fault when you stand in front of a jury and plead your case. The mad woman, the violent woman, the unhinged woman. It makes you want to scream, makes you want to thrash, maybe it makes you want to stick the knife into your own middle and twist it deep. You don’t though. You take the knife, run it under the tap until the water down the drain runs clear, wipe it dry with the towel and then shove it into your bag.

The mad woman indeed, you think, unhooking your car keys from the hook by the door. Well, if they wanted to fucking fry you, they were going to have to catch you first.

The darkness makes this easier. The hood pulled up over your head, covering your face just enough that the few passing cars don’t notice a thing on the drive there. There’s only one place you think to go, one person you know will understand, probably getting ready to go to bed on the other side of town, none-the-wiser that you’re on your way to him, covered in blood with a murder weapon sitting on the front seat of your car.

His home is unassuming. Two levels, two bedrooms, one for him - brown wood and dark - the other for his dead daughter - still pink with the sheets messed up, not made or changed for years as some sort of fucked up shrine. His truck, parked on the driveway, right next to yours. Most of the houses on the road have their lights turned out, families tucked up and sleeping for the night, but the light in his lounge is on - hard day at work, you think - as your fist knocks against the wood.

It takes him a minute, but then again, it always does, with his aching knees and his sore back, but he opens the door anyway, looking at you with confusion for a second, like he’s forgotten you’d arranged something, until you look up at him, let the light hit your face and show the blood spatters, drying and flaking, then his eyes are concerned, his big hand on your shoulder, dragging you inside.

“What did he do?” He’s asking, voice gruff.

He does this a lot, when you turn up in the middle of the night, bruises on your arms or lip split and sore, threatens to kill him, threatens to kill the cops who won’t do anything. Soothes your wounds, puts plasters on you, and then fucks you into his mattress and promises to run away with you. Well, jokes on you Joel Miller, you think as he leans you against the kitchen counter to look at you, I already fucking did kill him, and now you’re going to have to run away with me.

“What did he do to you, baby?” Voice still gruff, but tinged with concern this time, his hands cupping your face, turning it into the light to try and find the injury.

You cup his face too, congealed blood in the palm of your hand smearing across his skin, catching in the coarse whiskers of his beard, “He didn’t do anythin’ Joel.” You whisper, watching as the realisation hits his face and he takes a step back from you, dropping his hands like you’ve burned him.

“What did you do?”

You smile at him, the way he looks a little scared, “I killed him, Joel.”

He sucks in a breath, takes another step away from you, pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, “Why the fuck would you do that?”

You scoff, “Why the fuck do you think?” You snarl, “Had his hands around my neck,” You say, moving your head to show the red marks where his fingers had squeezed, “Told me I was a stupid whore and just squeezed harder.”

Joel’s eyes soften as he takes a step back towards you, “So I stabbed him,” It’s so matter of fact, “It was that or it was me Joel, do you understand?”

“Well then we go to the police,” He says, trying to reason with you, “One stab wound in self-defence and they’ll understand.”

“Ten.”

“What?”

“I said ten, ten stab wounds.”

He’s silent now. Those brown orbs staring directly into your soul. You can see the snarl of his top lip, the faint twitch in his left eye, “Fuckin’ hell, baby.”

And then it’s a whirlwind. You’re stood in his bathroom and he’s taking off your clothes, forcing you into the shower and scrubbing your skin raw like he doesn’t trust you to be thorough enough in doing it yourself. He shoves your blood-stained clothes into a bag, along with his own, worried that there’s enough blood on that shirt that they’ll come after him too. He dries at your skin, gives you the single set of clothes you keep at his house to change into, dressing himself frantically. Then he’s shoving more of his clothes into a duffle bag, avoiding your eye as he swipes the picture frame off his chest of drawers - the one of him and Sarah, soccer trophy in her hand - and shoves that in the bag too.

When he’s satisfied he has everything he needs, his palm grips the scruff of your neck and guides you down the stairs, like he’s scared you’re going to bolt, only letting go to put his boots on and pick up his keys. He makes sure to turn all the lights off, even the one on the porch, letting you go again to lock his door, then his hand is back on you, guiding you roughly to his truck, where he opens the door and waits for you to get in.

“Where are we going?” You ask.

“Just get in the fuckin’ truck baby.”

You’re two hours into the drive before he speaks, clearly trying to focus on getting as far away from the scene of your crime as he can. He’s silently fuming, having had to go back and put you back in your own car, have you drive behind him until he pulled onto the side of some deserted country road. He sat you back in the passenger seat of his truck, took the bag of bloodied clothes and put them in the boot of your car. You watched in the rear-view mirror as he doused it in petrol from a can and then set fire to it.

Neither of you looked back as you drove off.

“Are you okay?”

It makes you laugh, a full body-shaking laugh, the kind of laugh where you have to bite your lip to stop yourself. His hand is back on your shoulder, rough and tight, as it shakes you, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What the fuck do you think is wrong with me?” You spit, “I just killed my fuckin’ husband Joel, don’t ask stupid fuckin’ questions.”

He’s sailing down the highway, hand still gripping at your skin, “Do you have any idea what we’ve just done?” He asks, eyes forward, not looking at you, “You have any idea what they’ll do when they catch us?”

“Yeah, I got some notion.” You sigh, sinking back into the seat.

“What did you do with the body?”

You shrug, “I just left it there.”

“How long do you think we got?” He’s finally letting go of you, both hands back on the wheel.

“Couple of days,” You hum, “He ain’t due at work until Monday,” It was Friday now, “No-one’s gonna look for him until he doesn’t show.”

Joel nods, finally relaxing into his seat as much as he can, but he’s tense, you both are, and you’ve got to be careful. One wrong move and this is all going to unravel.

It’s silent then for another couple of miles until he speaks again, “I’m sorry,” He says quietly, “I’m sorry he did that to you and I’m sorry that you had to do that.”

“I’m not.”

It comes out at easy and breathing. Your asshole of a husband deserved it. Years of beating you around, of belittling you in front of your friends and family, all those nights of being curled up, forced to unravel and undress and lie there in the dark whilst he used you. You’re not sorry you had to do it at all.

You’re in a motel in Alabama when the news hits. It’s a shitty place, middle of nowhere vibes, with a receptionist who couldn’t have given less of a shit about the two of you when you arrived. Handed the keys to a room to Joel once she’d insisted on him paying cash for the three nights he wanted. Joel’s not long come back from the store down the road - a large bag of chips, two cans of soda and some candy shoved into a plastic bag, enough to stave off the hunger for the evening.

You’ve actively avoided the news until now, settling instead on trash tv for background noise, but it’s Monday, and you know that as soon as your shitty dead husband didn’t turn up for work, it would be a shitstorm back in Texas. There’s a woman, sitting behind a desk, looking incredibly morose over a dead man she doesn’t know. You listen intently to what she’s saying as Joel cracks open your can of soda and hands it to you.

It’s the basics right now, he’s been dead a few days, a brutal murder and the police are following all open lines of enquiry. They don’t mention you, they don’t mention Joel and there’s no appeal for witnesses. You sigh out some kind of breath of relief that you’re okay for now, but you know in the back of your mind you have to get moving. It’ll only be a matter of time before your photograph is pasted across the news channel, Joel’s too - you have to move on.

“Where are we going to go?” You ask quietly, sipping the sugary cold syrup from the can.

“Where do you want to go?” He replies just as quietly.

“Mexico?” You offer, it’s the only place you know that criminals go, crossing the border and down into South America to disappear into obscurity.

“Gone in the wrong direction for Mexico, baby,” He shrugs, “Maybe we head into Florida, lay low as much as we can, and then move on from there if the heat follows us?”

“Sounds good.”

There’s something about Florida that feels freeing. Sure, you’re in a dead end town, nowhere near a beach where you could enjoy the sun, but there’s something about the air here that feels different. Joel manages to find a small apartment for the two of you. Conscious that he doesn’t want anyone to know your faces when they start getting plastered across the news channels, he phones a number from a newspaper, asks for the keys to be dropped somewhere outside and three days ago you’d let yourselves in and settled down.

Joel had gone out and bought new clothes for the two of you, the old ones thrown in the bin, not sure any amount of laundry would have taken the smell away. He stocks up on simple groceries, and for the third night in a row, you sit down to spaghetti with tomato sauce from a jar. You’ve got the news on again, low on the volume, but just enough that you catch the news anchor speaking, “We have a development in the Austin murder case to bring you tonight.”

The spaghetti in your mouth turns to lead and what’s already in your stomach threatens to reappear when Joel turns around to find his face plastered across the TV screen.

“Austin local Joel Miller has been reported missing today by his brother,” The anchor continues, “And police have been open in explaining that they believe his disappearance is connected with the murder of an Austin man, found days ago in his home, stabbed to death.”

The camera cuts to a shot of Joel’s house, covered in police tape with an office stood outside his closed front door, and then to add insult to injury, the familiar face of Tommy Miller comes into view. He’d known about you, met you plenty of times, you think he liked you even, pulling cold beers out of the fridge for you and asking you how your day had been.

“I just wanna know where my brother is,” His Texan twang rings out, but you’re not watching him, you’re watching Joel, and the tick of his jaw as he grinds his teeth, “I don’t know where he is, but Joel, if you’re listenin’, come home brother, whatever has happened, just come home.”

Joel’s fist clenches the TV remote, turning it off, bathing the room in a dead silence that feels stifling. You don’t know what to do, except chew the spaghetti in your mouth for what feels like the hundredth time in an attempt to make you swallow it. He won’t look at you, instead he stares down into his bowl of unfinished food, jaw still twitching in the way it always does when he’s angry or stressed.

“Joel…” You trail off when he brings a hand up to signal you to stop talking.

“Don’t say anythin’.”

“They just think you’re missing,” You offer, trying to lessen the blow.

He snorts, shakes his head and looks up at you finally, his dark brown eyes blown almost black.

“Missin’, huh?” He scoffs, “And when Tommy airs this whole affair we’ve been havin’, tells the police everythin’ he knows about us, what then?”

You scoff right back, getting up from the table, chair scraping across the floor as you do, “So what, you wanna run on back to fucking Texas and leave me here?”

“I didn’t say that,” He sighs, standing up too, “I’m just sayin’ it ain’t gonna be long until they realise what really happened, and then what?”

“We move on, just like you said.”

“We don’t have that kinda luck baby,” He’s started to pace, “They’re gonna find us eventually, and I don’t know how you’re gonna talk yourself outta ten stab wounds.”

“Oh fuck you, Joel,” You spit, sanity hanging by a thread, “Yeah I stabbed him, maybe I even fucking enjoyed it, but you’re just as guilty in this as I am, you’re harbouring a criminal right now, even if they don’t know it yet.”

“I’m as guilty as you?” He pries, stepping closer to you, making you step back against the kitchen counter, “I didn’t stab him baby,” His voice is dripping in sarcasm, “That was all you,” He drags out, taking another step towards you, “They might arrest me baby, but when they catch you, they’re gonna give you the damn chair.”

It all happens in such a blur, his taunting tone and the way he’s caged you in against the kitchen counters. Before you even know what you’ve done, your hand has flown up and slapped him right across the cheek, following by a spitting “How fucking dare you.”

You’re both breathing heavily, the sound of sucking breath the only thing you can hear in the room. His eyes are darker than ever as he takes one more step, tangles his fist in the hair on the back of your head and tugs hard, before his mouth is hot and open against yours, tongue sliding against yours. It’s the first time he’s touched you like this since you left Texas, hot and full of want as he presses his entire body to yours, your lower back digging into the edge of the counter. You groan into his mouth, let your arms wrap around the broad expanse of his shoulders, and melt into the hand his puts on your lower back.

There’s a fumbling of limbs when he finally lets go of the grip he’s had on your hair, palms against the globes of your ass as he pulls you up, legs wrapping around his waist. He’s kissing you as he walks to the couch - it’s old, pattern faded, and when you sit on it you feel the springs pressing into you from below, but none of that matters when you’re legs are splayed wide across his thighs, straddling him as his hands rip open the blouse he bought not two days ago. It’s torn from your body, cups of your bra pulled down, nipple sucked into his mouth, his tongue swirling it into a stiff peak before he’s switching to the other one.

Your hand is on the back of his neck, gripping tightly to the unruly curls there, body leaning back in pleasure as your start to subtly grind your hips down into his.

“I fucking hate you,” You breathe, knowing you don’t really, not deep down, just for right now, “This is all your fault.”

“All my fault?” He asks, voice gruff as his teeth nip at the delicate skin on your breath, “I didn’t force you to stab him.”

He sucks your nipple back into his mouth, this time adding his teeth, not enough to hurt, just enough to make your cunt throb.

“You shouldn’t have spoken to me that night,” You moan out when he lets your nipple go with a pop, moving to the other one, “If I didn’t know you existed this never would’a happened.”

You hear him chuckle a little against your skin, as if it’s not a bare-faced lie. Whether he’d have been here or not, you’re sure that knife would have found it’s way into your husband one way or another. Joel just adds a complication, another person who doesn’t need to be caught up in this.

He doesn’t reply, all he does is grip harder to your ass through your jeans and drag you across the growing bulge in his own. You can feel him pushing up into you, the friction of the clothes between you making you sigh as you continue grinding yourself across his jean-covered cock.

It goes on like this for a while, kissing and biting at each other, until Joel has enough. His hands move from gripping painfully to your ass to effortlessly unbuttoning and unzipping your own jeans. You lift up just enough for him to pull them down over your ass, taking your underwear with them. There’s awkward fumbling whilst you try and manoeuvre them off your body whilst staying as close to him as possible, but eventually you get there.

Before you can settle back to rubbing your wet pussy along the bulge of his trousers, his hand cups you. The heat is stifling, almost unbearable, hot skin against hot skin, but when his fingers find you soaked, and he’s pressing two inside you, everything makes sense again.

Nothing outside of this room matters. Not for the next few hours. The police, the dead husband, the nightmares that have started to creep in at night. None of it matters anymore. Not when Joel curls his fingers just perfectly, making you cry out to the ceiling with your head tossed back. When it’s like this you remember why you did it, to be with him, and only him.

“Knew this would’a shut you up.” Joel murmurs into your skin, face pressed between your breasts as he nips marks into the skin there.

Your hips are working in time to the thrusts of his fingers inside you, shamelessly grinding yourself into his palm so it’s not just his fingers inside that are setting you alight, but the palm of his hand rubbing against your clit on every move forward you make.

You can feel yourself tightening around him, getting closer, and you know he can feel it too, his fingers getting harder inside you with each push.

“Come on baby,” He coos, “Let go for me.”

And it’s always been that simple. He only has to say it and you do. Soft screams filling the room as your cunt spasms around his fingers. Body shaking as he holds you to his own, working you through it.

There’s no real reprieve for you after. Joel shifts you so you’re lying face down on the couch, and through the haze you can hear his belt buckle being undone and the zipper of his jeans being pulled down.

His hand fishes underneath your body, pulling you up so you’re draped across the arm of the couch, ass splayed upwards and legs spread wide. His hand runs up and down your swollen cunt a few times, gathering your wetness which you know he’s using to pump his cock with, before you feel the head of him at your hole.

He’s unforgiving when he pushes in, giving you everything all at once as he surges forward inside of you. He’s touching the deepest parts of you and you swear you see stars. You hear him sucking in breath behind you, his two hands gripping your ass to pull you open you he can watch himself slide in and out of your cunt.

There are no words spoken between the two of you, the only sounds that can be heard are the sounds of his skin slapping against yours, the obscene squelch of you cunt when he pushes in, and the moans you both let out.

He’s rough, but you don’t mind. You want it to consume you, the pleasure and the tinge of pain every time his cock nudges at your cervix. It means you don’t think about anything else, just how good this feels, how good he makes you feel and how right it feels now that there isn’t someone else to think about. Joel has always felt right, like the person you were always meant to find, but it’s different now.

One of his hands comes up to grip your wrist on the arm of the couch, dragging it underneath you until you feel your cunt.

“Rub it for me baby,” He growls into your ear, “I wanna do this one together.”

So you do - you circle your clit with your middle finger, pressing harder and harder on every circle as he pounds into your cunt like it’s the last time he’ll have you like this. He’s gripping the back of your neck, pushing you further down into the material of the couch.

“Come on baby,” He groans above you, “You can do it.”

“Joel,” You squeak out, almost pathetically, “I think I’m gonna-”

“Go on then baby,” He says, “I’m right behind you.”

You let yourself go, feeling your cunt squeeze his cock as you gush around him. Your mouth is dropped open but there is no sound, only the hot spark that flushes across your body when he buries himself as deep inside of you as he can and stills, filling every inch of you with his cum.

His body falls onto yours, both of you struggling to catch breath as you recover. Joel eventually moves enough so that you can both lay down, pressed up against his body, almost uncomfortably so. His skin is hot to the touch and you can see small bruises on his neck and chest starting to rise where you’d bitten him - you suspect you must look the same.

There’s silence for a while, his hand tracing gently up and down your back, before you can think to ask anything.

“What are we gonna do, Joel?”

It takes him a while to respond, probably weighing up his options. There aren’t many. He goes home and has to explain everything to the police and goes to jail, or he stays here with you, keeps running and hope for the best.

He’s quiet when he says it, but you can tell when he does speak that whatever he’s feeling is genuine. He’s too far in now, there’s no going back, and you both know that.

“We keep runnin’ baby.”

[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.

[slutofpsh]

strip for me.

part two

pairings: hyungline x reader (jay & jake)

synopsis: hyung line got you trapped in a situation that you can’t get away from.

wc: 8k

warnings: smut, minor dni, bullying (not promoting violence or bullying), degrading, dirty talks, curses, masturbation, hyung line being mean. this is not proof read.

note: okay, i’ve been typing this while my eyelids are dropping. i’m so sleepy. anyway, i hope you will enjoy this. part one here, (strip for me).

slutofpsh 2024 © all rights reserved.

the day after their little playtime, you’re so scared to go to school. hesitating and timidly walking down the street once you got off from the bus that stops right in front of your school. no matter how hard you try, you just can’t help but to worry that they had spread explicit photos of you.

actually, if it weren’t for geometry’s long quiz you would skip school today. the thought of the boys leaking those pictures haunted you the whole night, you can’t even get some sleep. you bet you looked like a zombie right now.

when you stepped inside the classroom, some of your classmates are bickering and joking around as usual. you expected some dramatic scenes where one calls you out and they all laugh at you for being such a loser.

but none of that happened.

some turns their head at your direction, but they didn’t reacted like how you imagined them to do. there’s no laughing at you or calling you names like whore or slut. but instead they gradually went back on the things they’re doing.

does that mean they didn’t see any of your photos?

you’re still in the middle of spacing out when an arm suddenly rests over your shoulder, followed by a sexy chuckle. it was very familiar and you have an idea who it is.

“hi sweetheart.” jake’s voice ringed at your left ear. his body pressed over your side as he leaned closer adding his weight on you.

when you craned your neck to glance at him, you met his playful eyes. his thick and long eyelashes are very evident from this distance, making him look even more attractive in your eyes.

your cheeks instantly blushed because your noses almost touched each other. envious eyes bore onto you, feeling their heated gaze remaining. they're probably wondering why him— the popular jake sim, is currently being touchy with you— a nobody.

“you look pale. something wrong?” his voice sounded so soft, eyes glistening with a bit of concern if you look closely.

his slightly long hair looked so sexy, its even feel illegal to look like that. you’re quick to dismiss that thought, actually think that its wrong to even have an idea of being attracted towards him. he’s not even a good person. he’s like a devil trapped inside an angel’s body.

jake took a step so he can stand in front of you to take a better look. he leans down so he can catch a glimpse of your eyes making you feel even more timid. his puppy-like eyes stares right into you, as if searching for something.

if only you don’t know his true colors, you might think he’s a very innocent boy. but you knew better. jake sim is far from being innocent. on your opinion, out of all the four he’s the pervert one. he has the most corrupt mind. or at least he’s the one who shows that side more.

he’s usually the one who will pull you any time or anywhere whenever he feels like he wants someone to suck his throbbing dick. he doesn’t even care if your class will start in ten minutes or if you’re in the middle of reviewing for something. there was never a time that he’s not in the mood for sex. he’s always up for it. prepared and horny at all times.

“jake...” and you put your hand over his chest to push him away from you, setting a clear boundary between the two of you.

he’s crossing your personal space and its making you uncomfortable.

his actions makes you a bit suspicious of him. they rarely make interaction with you in public unless they’re picking on you or trying to embarrass the hell out of you.

you should not fall for those pretty lips and puppy eyes. jake sim always means trouble.

“hmm? what, baby?” he asks in a low tone, almost in a growling manner. he trapped his lower lip in between his teeth as he gave you this seducing stare. a hint of mischievousness shines through his eyes.

“move away a bit. y-you’re too close.” your eyes unconsciously darted around the classroom and you noticed how some are still watching you two.

jake seems unbothered by it. of course, its not him who will get harassed by their admirers. it would be you.

he chuckles then snaked his arm over your waist, tugging you even closer. he licked his lips, eyes turning dark out of lust over you.

“we both know we’ve been closer than this.” he spat before leaning again, dismissing your attempt of pushing him and setting a line.

“i can still remember how you look like yesterday. full of our cums...” he groaned near your ear that eventually turned red out of embarrasment.

you just wish none from your class heard what he just said. probably none, right? besides, he just whispered it so close to you. he’s so near to the point that you can feel his hot breath fanning your skin, sending shivers through your spine.

you pursed your lips, preventing to make any inappropriate noise to slip off from them. his hold over your waist tightens, like he just couldn’t get enough of you.

“gosh, sweetheart. you’re so hot looking like that.” he pulls away and the first thing you saw is his evil grin. he’s enjoying it. every damn thing, he’s loving it.

his dirty words made you feel sick in the stomach. you tried to move away, but he managed to grab you by your wrist, yanking you back. almost making you hit his chest.

“don’t worry. your pretty pictures are safe.” he says then winked at you. its like he read what’s in your mind moments ago.

your eyes brightens at what you heard, slowly lowering your guard. jake almost laugh at how adorable your eyes shines with relief. but he must admit, he loves it better whenever its full of tears whenever he’s fucking you senseless.

“r-right? you didn’t spread it or anything?” your soft voice almost made him go feral. jake stops himself from getting too excited. he smirks and slid his hand inside his pocket.

“are you crazy? why would i do that? that’s for our eyes only.” he stated, assuring you.

it somehow sent you instant relief. it was horrible to have that kind of photos of you taken without your permission, but its better to be sure that they’re not going to share it to the whole school.

a heaved sigh escapes your pretty lips that caught his attention. his gaze drops over it and eyes grew darkly.

“but we did sent it to beomgyu.” he whispers like a reminder.

your heart sank at what you heard.

“w-what...”

he scoffs, “you heard that right.” he tilts his head while still watching your face grow pale.

“now, he won’t ever try to flirt with you.” and with that he turns his heel and starts heading to his chair.

you’re left standing there alone. feeling a lump inside your throat and chest aching. you can’t explain what exactly that emotion is. but its not good. you feel humiliated and your only wish is to not bump into beomgyu ever again.

“what are you doing?” you snapped out of it when you heard a low voice from behind.

jay, sunghoon and heeseung walks inside the room. their eyes are darted right at you and noticed how you’re just standing there. the two tall boys behind jay are both silently watching you with cold blank eyes.

you’re quick to avoid their gaze and shook your head to dismiss those thoughts before giving jay a look.

“n-nothing.” you shortly replied and started walking to your seat.

the three boys watch you carefully. the displease look on your face evident and made them wonder what just happened to you. jay glances at them and shrugged his shoulders before going to his chair, throwing one last look to your way.

the class then started after your homeroom teacher arrives. it was normal and you tried hard to pay attention to the discussion. you can’t let these things affect your studies as well. if you want to get away from them, you should aim to a bigger university. far from those four boys.

library period is next after your three first subjects. its basically free time for your class, but you have to spend the time inside the library. you love reading so you don’t really mind. some of them take this opportunity to take naps.

you lost the four boys on your way here, making sure they won’t get a grip of you during the whole hour. the library is huge which is good as there’s a big chance of getting away from them. also, you’re sure they won’t make a scene here. specially with a lot of other students around.

you made it at the far left corner of the library and quickly find a vacant table to read the book you chose. its pretty much isolated as the other students decided to occupy the tables near the entrance.

the book you have is pretty good. cliche plots, but you’re entertaining enough to keep you occupied. you’re currently hooked to it when you heard the chair in front of you being dragged by someone.

your head lifts up to check who it was and regret instantly hit you.

it was choi beomgyu.

his eyes darts at your direction. he looked worried. after being reminded that the boys sent him that photo of you, you quickly tried to gather your things to leave. the last thing you'd want is to get confronted about those horrible pictures.

“wait, y/n!” he calls and went after you.

he managed to catch up and hold your wrist, preventing you to take further steps.

you kept your head low to avoid any eye contact. he’s staring at you and his hold, slowly becoming loose once he realized you’re not planning to run away from him.

he lets out a sigh. “i just want to say sorry.”

you raised your head with a confused look on your face. he blinks and he lifts his hand to scratch the back of his neck. his cheeks flushes, ears turning slightly red.

‘is he embarrased or nervous?’ you thought to yourself.

“i didn’t know about what you have with...” he stalls his words, doesn’t really know which one to address.

you gulped, feeling shy as well. you have no idea what exact thoughts he’s having right now.

“i’m sorry. did i get you in trouble?” his voice sounded nothing but concern.

“p-please, can you delete those pictures?” even if you feel so shy to bring it up, you want to make sure that your pictures won’t be seen by anyone else.

his eyes widen before he glanced away, cheeks burning. well one thing is confirmed. he did saw the pics.

“you don’t have to worry about it.” he gulped, still not looking at you. “sunghoon went to see me last night and made sure i deleted all of them.”

and when he turns his head, you saw that he have a small bruse by the side of his cheek. the ones you can’t see properly from where you’re standing.

sunghoon? what did he do?

you knew he have the worst temper from all of them and he got caught into fights multiple times, but you just can’t believe he will hurt beomgyu for that. its their fault that he got those pics on the first place.

“anyway, that’s it. i really felt bad that i got you into troubles with your...” he cleared his throat and licked his lips. “..boyfriends.”

your brows narrowed. “they’re not my boyfriends.”

he whips his head at your direction with widen eyes. “but why—”

you shake your head, dismissing the topic. “its complicated.”

you let out a strained sigh, once again realizing how bad this situation you got yourself into. beomgyu probably feels bad for you too. being a slave for those four evil guys. you cannot say anything at all. you can’t even complain.

“i have to go. i'm relieved that you don’t have those pics—” your heads turned when you heard a thud sound from the nearest aisle.

feeling a little bothered, you trudges towards to check if somebody was there.

no one.

your eyes dropped to the floor and saw a couple of books fell down from the aisle. probably that’s the sound you heard. maybe some students didn’t properly returned the books.

“thank you for deleting them. good bye.” you gave beomgyu a small smile and a bow before leaving him there.

you don’t want to risk it again. if one of them sees you around him, they might take it the wrong way and punish you. who knows what they will do next? they can be very ruthless and cruel. shivers runs through your spine just by imagining or thinking about what will they do.

when the bell rang signifying that the next period is about to start, you walked inside the class. oddly, the four boys are sat on their chairs.

your brows furrowed slightly, confused. they rarely come early in class. realizing that you’re overthinking things, you went straight to your chair and soon after your teacher enters to start the lesson.

weird. that’s all you can say. the class are almost over and yet none of them came to approach to bother you. nobody even randomly asks for you to meet them somewhere.

they ignored you the whole lunch break too. leaving you alone and peacefully eating your food. that’s a normal thing for other people, but for someone who often being dragged for their little playtime, you find it a little weird.

they’ve been silent after that library period and honestly its making you a bit anxious. they’re so calm and its a bad thing for you. when its too calm, a big storm is about to unfold.

dismissal came, the loud bell ringing all through the hallways. your eyes glanced at them and they’re fixing their things, jake’s talking to jay. sunghoon’s on his phone while heeseung is silently putting his textbook inside his locker.

you have no idea what you’re expecting, but having them completely ignoring you pinches something in you. this is actually a good thing. they’re not bothering you and you can go home peacefully. but a part of you somehow wonders, feels slightly heavy.

when you finished doing your thing, you roamed your eyes around the classrom and they’re not there. you didn’t even notice them leaving the room. jake didn’t purposely bumped into you, reminding you to meet them by the parking lot or somewhere.

in order to make it on the bus stop, you have to walk pass by the wide parking lot of the school. and as you make your way out along with the other students, your eyes caught a familiar tall figure.

it was sunghoon and beside him was a girl. she’s all smile while trying so hard to keep up with the pace of him walking. with those long legs, it sure is hard to catch up on him. sunghoon’s not that friendly, but it didn’t stop him from getting admirers.

normally, he gets rid of them. but you saw how he actually entertain and crack a conversation with her. it was again odd.

not too far from where his car is, you saw jake. he's leaning over his car while talking— more like flirting with this girl. you know her. she’s from the class next to yours. she’s part of the cheerleading squad, a very beautiful girl. he’s always nice to girls, a playboy. that’s how he's usually described so it wasn’t news to see him like this around her.

jay arrived not long after and he greets the girl jake’s talking to before putting his things inside his own car. he seems to be interested to their topic as instantly joins in their conversation.

noticing that heeseung’s nowhere near them, you tried to search for him. and you’re taken aback seeing him leaning over his car and looking straight at you like he’s been watching you ever since you stopped to watch them.

you gulped and stared back for a while before glancing away to leave. a bitter feeling slowly occupies your chest and you try so hard to get rid of it. its wrong to feel that way. you should feel relieved that finally they’re taking interest towards some other girls.

since you have no friends, you’re often alone around the campus. somehow, even if you feel like they’re just around you whenever they wanted to play, they make you feel like you’re not alone. they make you feel like existing.

and watching them slowly lose interest over you are both nice and bothering for you. being used to their presence from time to time made it seems like you’re losing more than gaining something.

the next day, you tried hard to act normal. despite the heavy feeling on your chest and eyes puffy than usual.

the class are loud the moment you stepped in and you scanned the room automatically. they’re not yet here. its still early so its not a surprise anymore.

“yo, jake!” your feet stopped at what you heard.

just when you’re about to look over your shoulder, someone walked pass by you. his familiar manly scent invading your nose that informs you that it was indeed jake sim who arrived.

your heart cracked at how he acted. he smiles at that one friend who greets him, dabbed him and started chatting.

‘maybe he didn’t see me?’ your thought to yourself.

but that’s clearly impossible. jake knew the whole built of your body. he can tell its you even from a good distance, what more if he walks pass by you? he is ignoring you.

you shoved that bitter feeling and just head on your chair. a part of you want to go and ask them what’s up or why they’re suddenly like this, but another part refrain you from doing so. you knew you shouldn’t.

the next few days, its still the same. all of them acts like you didn’t even exist in their world. it should be a good thing and being bothered by it should be the least you occupy your mind, but you can’t help it.

maybe their presense really planted something deep inside your mind. causing you to feel a bit sadder than usual now that they’re ignoring you. it sounds hilarious, but it seems like you grew attached to them.

wednesday, it was a normal school day. you went to school feeling a little bit more dead on the inside. is it just you or its really boring these days? like something’s missing.

you arrived inside your classroom and didn’t bother to look around. straight up, you headed over to your chair then slump yourself to the table. eventually the classroom got filled with students. you tried so hard to avoid searching the other boys.

“since the fieldtrip will be on sunday, i need all your signed consent letter by your parents. if you don’t have it, i can’t let you come.” your homeroom teacher announced.

one by one, your classmates stands up to place the paper over the teacher’s table. you rummaged inside your bag, going through your things to look for the notebook where you put it. after finally finding it you stood up and walks towards your teacher.

“thank you.” your teacher smiles warmly and eyes shifted on the figure behind you.

even before you can turn around to check, your back collided with a hard chest then a low husky voice follows.

“here’s mine.” sunghoon then leans towards the table, pressing his chest on your back even more. his scent invades your nose and it was making you feel things.

you gulped, getting rid of the lump on your throat. he seems totally unbothered by the contact, unlike you. thankfully, he did moved away after handing the paper to your teacher.

when he finally walks back to his place, that’s when you got the chance to move those feet. feeling your knees slightly wobble out of nervousness from that fine man.

even without checking their direction, you can tell that their piercing and predatory stare they’re giving you. its making you more on edge. no matter how many times they do that it never changes the way it affects you.

it slightly made you confused because they’ve been ignoring you. none of them had spoken to you for days and now here’s that feeling again. oddly, the somersault in your stomach didn’t bothered you.

it was almost lunch break when you felt a soft tap over your shoulder while peacefully reading. you craned your neck and looked at the person from behind.

“yeah?” you asked, finding it odd that she’s interacting with you. the displeased look on her face gave away the thought that she's just being forced to do this.

“here.” she says and placed a pile of paper at your table, which you followed with your gaze.

“what’s this?”

she sighs and rolled her eyes a bit, “its our signed consents. the teacher said you should take it to the student council’s office.”

“huh? why me?” you blurt out.

she frowns at your response. “how should i know?!” she hissed then rolled her eyes again. “just take it.” and with that her heels turned to start walking away, off to go back to her friends.

realizing being left with no choice but to comply, you grabbed the stack of papers and start heading the said office.

while on your way, your steps gets slower then eventually halted from your tracks. now that you’re finally going back to your senses, you remembered that heeseung and jay are both part of the student body.

heeseung’s the president and jay’s the vice. personally, you think they’re not deserving of the position as they secretly torment you, but the competition between them and the other participants were not even a close call. their votes were beyond far from the other party.

after letting out a nervous sigh, you started walking again. you tried convincing yourself that they’re probably done with you by now.

a pinch in your heart and you want to curse yourself. not just by feeling a hint of disappointment, but because of the excitement slowly flaring inside your chest. its making your hand shakes a bit, anticipation looming right after.

arriving right in front of their office alloted for the school’s student body, you gulped. feeling so nervous and at the same time thrilled, you needed some time to calm yourself down.

a few knocks at the door is what you do and not even twenty seconds, the door opened.

the first thing you see is park jongseong’s furrowed brows. he looked so attractive with that serious expression on his face.

your mouth gaps, reading to defend yourself for being here when he didn’t even question your presence. he just turned his back then walks towards where he’s probably sitting before your knocked.

you blinked a couple of times, still a little fazed of his behavior. it was a bit weird reaction or maybe that’s how he really is to other people. your heart sank, shoulder almost obviously lowering.

“w-where should i put these?” you tried cracking a conversation with him. it was a bit pathetic on your side.

“on the table.” he shortly replied without even sparing you a glance.

his cold demeanor clearly hurt you that made the corner of your eyes sting. you’re already aware that they’re ignoring you, but this is like a slap to your face.

after you placed it along with the other stacks of paper, you turned around quickly, ready to bolt out from this place when he talk again.

“did i said that you can leave?” jay's husky voice almost echoes through the whole room.

it caught you off-guard that your feet moves even before your brain can process it. with both hands on your sides, you stood by the door awkwardly. his eyes met yours and it didn’t reflect any emotions that adds up to the heavy atmosphere.

“u-uh, do you need me to bring something?” you glanced away and tries to look around the room, trying to find something that can flicker your interest.

he shakes his head side to side before he prompt his chin at the vacant sofa by the corner. eventually understanding what he meant, you trudged over where he wants you to be.

“i’ll be done with this in a bit.” he stated that you only answered with a short nod.

you’re clueless and unable to comprehend anything that’s happening. assumedly, you’re here only to deliver the consent letters and now he’s not letting you leave?

your heart batters faster than usual, casually making you percieved of slight pain on your chest. the main reason for this occurence is still unknown, but that’s the least of your concern.

the whole room fell silent once again after jay’s last sentence. you kept your mouth shut despite enduring the boredom.

your body jolted when jay pushed his chair away from the table after closing his laptop. your heart starting to thump fast once again when you felt his heated gaze darted at you.

he’s not saying anything that made you even more agitated. his eyes bore onto you, not glancing away even for a second. finally, he heavs a sigh before trudging in front of the sofa.

when he’s in front of you, feet almost touching, he stops and stares down. with a thumping heart you tried to look at him, but ends up failing as you are quick to tear your gaze off.

“take off your panties.”

your breath hitched and you felt like you’ve heard that wrong. with your mind clouded with a lot of things, there’s a possibility that you just misheard it, right?

with widen eyes, you glanced at him dumbfounded. “excuse me?”

he tilts his head, still with a placid look on his face. hands sliding inside the pocket of his uniform’s trousers.

“take off your panties.” he repeats himself for you.

“strip for me.” the familiar words he utters sent instense shivers over your spine. it was crazy how used you are on hearing those words that it doesn’t caught you off guard anymore.

“b-but,” your eyes glanced at the direction of the door and instantly, jay understood.

he turns and starts walking towards it, the hills of his shoes clicking on the floor. the sound itself make you feel your stomach churn.

he reaches for the knob and smoothly locked it. he faced you once again and huffs, “better now, baby?”

your knees wants to give out even though you’re already sat down after hearing him say that endearment.

with the lack of response, jay stood in front of you again then rest his hand on his hips.

“do it now.”

“what if some people comes inside?” your voice shakes that makes jay’s mind clouded.

“i already locked it. nobody’s going inside.”

“what if they knock—”

“are you going to take it off or do you want me to do it?” he asks with a calm voice.

your lips got caught in between your teeth. contemplating whether to do as he said or no. the door is a few feet away, you can just bolt and escape him. that thought dissipate as he moves to your line of vision.

“y/n.” this time his tone sounds so stern.

with flustered face, you lowered your head and slowly reach for your underwear. you have no idea what’s his reaction because you’re avoiding to look at jay’s eyes.

“good girl.”

you can swear that your face is as red as tomatoes right the moment. with how sexy his low voice sounds and at what you’re doing, heat rushes your cheeks.

after sliding the small garment off, you closed your thighs, feeling so naked without it. jay’s eyes grew dark at the sight of you being like this.

“don’t hide from me.” he ordered and pressed his hand over your shoulder to make you rest at the sofa.

you slightly yelp at what he did and soon, one of his hand pushed your thighs apart. you blushed and tries to fight back which leads to nothing as he just swiftly made his way. jay’s glared at you once in your failed attempt of stopping him.

“look at that,” he stated while staring down at your now exposed core.

you shut your eyes, feeling so embarrassed. this isn’t the first time he saw you like this. he even saw you without anything on, but because its been days since they last had their playtime, it made you feel even more awkward than usual.

“you’re already so wet for me, baby.” he whispers, eyes growing darker out of lust while almost salivating at the view of your pussy clenching over nothing.

“such a slut for me.” he leans in and gather a generous amount of saliva then let it drip down on your core.

you pursed your lips harder and threw your head back while shutting your eyes. the view feels too illegal to watch. it is illegal to these kind of things here, in this office, at your school. the amount of trouble you’ll get into once caught.

“j-jay,” you almost bit your tongue as the suppose to be warning came out as a mone.

he glanced at you over his eyelashes before dipping his head down, finally connecting his lips at your dripping core.

“ugh," your fingers unconsciously grabbed his hair that instantly made you crack your eyes open, surprise by your own action.

“i'm s-sorry,” you said and was about to pull it away when he rest his big hands over yours. keeping it in place.

“its okay, you can touch my hair.” he said before going back on lapping senselessly over your cunt.

it made you hitch your breath and lose your mind. the feeling of his tongue grazing all the sides of your womanhood and how amazingly he’s doing it is too much. the way he makes out with your clit, tongue sliding in to your hole from time to time.

“j-jay, oh my gosh—” you clash your hand on your mouth to keep silent. afraid to make noticeable noises that can gather attention from outside.

“so sweet.” he groans through your pussy, the vibration almost sent you to oblivion. over the right things that you should do, like push him away and leave this place.

instead of doing that, your fingers carded his soft hair and grabbed over it feeling a knot on your stomach. climax almost reaching you.

when you’re about to reach the heaven, jay pulls away and you almost groaned out of displeasure and the lost contact from his sinful mouth. jay smirks and smoothly took off his trousers.

you gulped, eyes full of anticipation of seeing his erect manhood. jay didn’t even bother taking it all off, just enough to pull his member out in the open. his cock is so hard and thick, making you feel conscious about how it would stretch you out good.

muffled curses showers your mind as you fight your demons trying to escape you.

he strokes his cock a few times before nearing it to your core. when its head slightly grazes your line, you whimpered softly, catching his attention. jay scoffed smugly. proud that its him making you feel like this, making you look like you’re going to lose your mind.

he traces your line using his throbbing head and then he finally slid it inside, all of his length. he watches it disappeared as it fully enters you making the two of you let out sensual moans.

“fuck.” he curses as your grip over his arm tightens.

he glances at you and when he saw how you have your eyes shut, he taps your cheeks gently. “watch me fuck you good, baby.”

and with that you obliged to his demands. you let yourself get drawn by his hot stares and fall on his trap. it was as if you just lose control of your own body and just follows what he’s about to tell you.

“oh you’re taking me so well.” he growled above you as he continue fucking his dick deep inside in a slow pace. it was torture.

he kept it like that until he felt you tightening around him, suffocating his cock. he knows you’re about to come and the look on your face just makes him want to just fuck you senseless. but it wasn’t the plan.

you can almost taste it. mind clouded by nothing but the thought of creaming around jay’s hardened cock. the imminent pleasure that approaching made you nibble on your lips a little bit more harder, that you’re sure it will bleed anytime soon.

“oh gosh—” brows narrowing closer as he reaches deeper of your insides.

but the clear anticipation came running down the drain when jay suddenly pulls it out leaving you hanging, losing your chance to reach climax. frustration and embarrasment replacing them right away.

jay finished outside of you after he strokes his dick a few more times, shooting his thick cum on your hole. you look at him in disbelief, wondering if he happens to miss that you haven’t reached your climax yet. it was impossible.

it was confirmed when you saw the evident smirk on his lips as he stood up. the conniving look on his face ignites annoyance inside of you.

feeling too naked and definitely uneasy, you decided to pick your underwear and slid it back, disregarding the uncomfortable wet juice still leaking out from your neglected core.

“see you around, y/n.” you even heard him say before you left him inside that room.

it was your last two subjects and you’re still on a foul mood. after what happened at the student council’s office with jay, you can’t get rid of your bad mood. maybe because you’ve been denied of your release. for the first time. you never knew it felt this way.

“y/n, coleen and shin.” your head perks up at the mention of your name.

“please go to the journalism club room. its your turn to take your i.d pictures.” the homeroom teacher announces.

the other girls that was called stood up right away. you don’t want to go. you’re not really on the mood to take pictures. not when you’re feeling sulky and pissed off.

in the end, you forced yourself up and go to take your i.d picture. all you want is for you to go home and finally leave this place.

the club room is at the other side of the building and you can see that some students are around the hallway, goofing around.

since the journalism club have talented photographers, they’re tasked to take the student’s i.d pictures for this school year. you didn’t think too much of it as it doesn’t bother you at all. the school can do whatever they want.

when you entered the club, its filled with students. you noticed curtains that serves as divisions inside. there are a total of four stalls where students gets inside to get their pictures taken. probably one photographers waiting for them.

multiple sounds of cameras clicking can be heard around.

“please find your section and name here then sign.” the girl at the table near the entrance caught your attention.

you nodded and proceed on finding your name. after doing that, you’re instructed to write your full name on a white piece of paper.

“head over the stall at the end.” she says not even throwing you a glance and focuses on arranging something on her laptop.

you ignored her behavior and just walks to the end stall. the curtain that serves as the door to keep privacy is thick, preventing you from seeing what’s inside.

you moved it and your heart fell at the sight of a man’s back.

jake sim.

probably noticing your presence and hearing the shuffling of the curtain, he looked over his shoulder. his lips curled into a grin at the sight of you. his messy hair paired with his glasses looks so good on him. his free hand raises and pulls his lollipop out from his mouth, making a ‘pop’ sound.

“what are you waiting for? get inside.” he tilts his head, prompting you to come in.

“o-oh, okay.” and you stepped inside.

he pushed forward making you smell him more as he reaches for the curtain to close it behind you.

“sit down at the chair please.” his sweet voice rings on your ear making you feel things.

you follow what he said and sat down at the chair by the center. he was doing something on his camera, totally focused while his tongue plays with the lollipop that is now inside his mouth.

the frustration from before got you too occupied that you failed to remember that he’s part of this club. jake sim just can’t be more perfect. he cannot just be the smart, handsome student who came from a wealthy family. of course, he’s good at taking photos too.

“all right.” he says and finally diverts his attention towards you.

it caught you off guard and totally took your breath away. he glances down at the paper you’re holding. he raises one of his eyebrow then glanced back at your eyes.

“get rid of that paper. i know your full name so damn well.” he says and grabbed the paper to throw it to the side.

“smile for the camera.” he said casually and placed it near his face.

you've seen him with his camera before. during events at school and the journalism needs to cover it, he will be around taking pictures. he looked so handsome whenever he’s doing that. you can tell he loves doing it.

“sweetheart,” he pulls away from the camera to look at you.

“huh?” you asked totally spacing out.

“show me that pretty smile.”

you quickly blushed because of his words. he clicked the camera a playful smile spreads across his face. he didn’t pull away this time but give you subtle compliments, enjoying how good you look right now.

for jake, whenever you look so clueless and innocent, that’s when he loses his mind the most. he feels like his purpose in this life is to corrupt you, taint you in any possible way he can.

“that's it. very pretty.” he clicked multiple times and when he finally gets satisfied, he pulls away to check them out.

you heaved out a sigh, trying to relax yourself. just by then you realized that you’ve been holding your breath. jake’s taking him away from you.

“okay, we got it.” he announced that made you feel relief.

you thanked him and stood up, ready to leave when his arm blocked you from taking further steps. he looked at you with furrowed brows.

“where are you going?”

“outside?” you answered unsure.

“go sit back down. we’re not yet done.” he says sternly and unplugged something from his camera.

maybe it was the cord connecting the camera to the laptops outside. so the students outside can see the actual shots right away.

“but i t-thought you said...” your words stalls when he shoot you this intimidating stares.

it left you with no choice but to walk back to the chair and sit down. jake’s face relaxes and he smirks again.

“now, take off your clothes.”

“w-what?”

he shrugged his shoulders. like he didn’t just said the most hilarious thing he can say inside a studio filled with other students.

“you heard me, sweetheart.” he clicks the side of his cheeks attractively.

“strip for me.” jake’s smile was so evil when he say those words.

you kept still, hands fidgets feeling uneasy. he is the type you can’t say no to. because he will turn sulky right away. and sulky jake is bad news.

“b-but there’s students around, jake. they might see—”

“what do you think of me? stupid?” he scoffs, sounding a bit offended. panic occurs you, ready to defend yourself and explains that its not what you’re trying to conclude

“i already told you that we’re the only ones allowed to see your body.” he sounded so serious, scaring you slightly.

“now take it off before i end up ripping them off of you.” he added aggressively.

it scared you. you knew he will do it.

his eyes sparkled when he saw you reaching for your buttons. with flustered face, your eyes glances away from his piercing eyes. he started taking photos of you. the continuous clicking of his camera and him not saying anything made you feel on edge.

he took multiple photographs of your exposed upper body while your skirt are still on. for jake it was perfect. he can print this pictures and tape it on his room wall so he can stare at it all day.

“panties off. i want to see my cunt.” he then settles down his camera at the sight.

you gulped, the memory of what happened earlier this day with jay flashes back to your mind. the way this somehow reminds you of that scene is crazy. its too similar, but at the same time different. due to their unalike personalities, they’re delivering the same scenarios in their own styles.

he was licking the lollipop like as if imagining it was your pussy he was devouring. he watches while you take off your undergarment, slightly feeling impatient.

the lollipop was out from his mouth as it gaps the moment he saw your pussy. he glances at your eyes shortly then steps closer.

he licked his lips then touches your chin to make you look up at him. you looked at his eyes and he leans to kiss you, sliding his tongue inside your mouth, giving you a taste of the sweetness from the candy.

your mouths continued doing that for a while before he moves away, looking completely drunk in lust for you. he roams his eyes around your face before giving you one last peck.

he then crouches down to be in the same level as your cunt. he leans closer, his breath fanning your sensitive skin. your breath is heavy, unable to contain the lust forming inside you as well.

he raises his hand then tastes the lollipop again then pulls out. he then dips his head, lips kissing your core. you let out a gasp, surprised. a hand clapped over your mouth to muffle any sound.

he pulls away as he looks up to you with his doe puppy-like eyes.

“your cunt is definitely sweeter.” he commented and threw the candy away shamelessly before starting diving back in to eat you out.

“oh my— j-jake!” you whispered, trying to contain your whimpers and control yourself.

he chuckles while still mouth connected on you. he didn’t waste any second before sliding two fingers inside, fucking it inside you with a way that sends your mind somewhere else.

“cunt so sweet, so perfect.” he praises as he continues.

he glances at you and saw how desperation flickers your eyes. you looked adorable trying not to make any sound, afraid that you’ll be caught for doing nasty things inside the school premises.

“you’re so pretty, aren’t you sweetheart?” he asks with a hint of innocence like as if he’s not finger fucking you right now.

he opens his sinful plump lips then slide his tongue out, leaning down to your core to start working on your clit while his fingers are busy sliding in and out of you.

the feeling was too much, the sensation is too much for you to bear that it made you groan. your hand are tightly gripping your mouth to muffle the sound as much as you can.

“s-so near,” you whispered while staring down at him eating you deliciously.

“yeah? cum for me then...” he says shortly.

he was doing a great job on pleasuring you that it was not long until you can feel the familiar knot forming inside your stomach. it slightly worry you that he will do the same thing jay did.

“cum for me, sweetheart. let me get a taste of that sweet juice of yours.” he mumbles sounding so sexy, eyes never leaving you.

“j-jake.” you moaned his name.

he smirks, “that’s right. i’m the one making you feel crazy.” he sounded so full of himself, smug.

“ugh," your head threw back, eyes tightly shut as you shakes a bit after reaching your most wanted release.

jake’s lips on your core, making sure to harvest every bit of your sweet cum. he’s addicted and he’s not even bothered by it.

still high from that delicious climax, you couldn’t help but travel your gaze down to his pants. a dent slightly showing that made you salivate a bit.

“we’re done.” he says that snapped you out of your trance.

you looked at him confused. “h-huh?”

he smirks, “what? you want something else?” he taunts with a hint of sarcasm.

“you’re not getting my dick today, sweetheart. that’s my punishment for you.”

your brows draws closer at his remark. wondering what he meant by punishing you. as far as you remember, you didn’t do anything wrong. so why is he punishing you?

now, jay slids in your mind and wonders if not letting you cum is his way of punishing you.

“i’m done with stall number four.” jake shouts, informing the student outside that he’s finished with his business.

he glances at you and when the lust faded, embarrasment kicks in. you quickly fixed yourself and hurried outside.

everyone seems to be busy with their own business so none of them took notice of your slightly crumpled uniform and your forehead filled with beads of sweat.

once you stepped outside the club room, your steps halted when you saw heeseung and sunghoon heading your way. their eyes both have those cold, dark stares that made your heart race.

heeseung gave you a cold shoulder like usual, walking pass by you and straight to the club room.

sunghoon blocked your way. he’s staring right at you before running his eyes down to your feet. after observing you for a while, his hand raises to fix your blouse.

“students should always wear their uniform properly.” he utters in a low voice.

such big words coming from someone who have the first three buttons of his uniform open. you kept your mouth shut and just glance away.

he sighs after doing the small fixing on you.

“t-thank you.” you just ended saying that, feeling awkward.

his attention then darted at the door of the club room when it swings open, “hoon, its our turn.” heeseung calls for the younger friend.

he nods and soon dart his eyes at you.

“meet me after practice tomorrow at the ice hockey’s locker room.” he leans and places a kiss on your neck before heading towards heeseung. leaving you completely dumbfounded at his actions.

(replies and reblog my works. send asks too! thank you so much.)

[iceunhie]

voicelines about you: as their lover ! (part 2)

featuring: sunday, aventurine, blade (+ black swan, acheron) [ part 1: dan heng, jing yuan, gepard, kafka, jingliu. ]

notes: well. the long awaited part 2 is here! (i took absolutely wayyy too long to finish this but a lovely anon requested the penacony cast so i just waited until now haha) stay tuned for either a future aventurine fic or a sunday fic tho; reblogs are appreciated! main masterlist.

Sunday

About [Name]: Ah, you speak of my beloved. [Name] has managed to strike your interest as well? Heh, I'm joking. You aren't that type of person, no? ….But yes, my lover truly is quite stellar, if not incomparable. I doubt I'd find anyone in the universe as lovely as I do them.

About [Name]: Smitten Robin often jokes about how my eyes change whenever I see them. ‘Softens like the smitten man you are,’ she says. Well, my sister is hardly wrong about matters of the heart, and to be fair, her words are indeed correct. While I cannot be with them every second of the day, despite my only wish to do so…. I suppose this much is fine. At the very least, this bewitched version of myself shall ward any that dare take [Name] away from me.

About [Name]: Preparation. …My mansion has everything [Name] shall ever desire. As for I, what I only desire is them alone, and for them to be right by my side. When the time is right, what's mine shall also be theirs, and none shall ever separate the two of us again. Should anyone attempt it, well, there's a reason my mansion is built the way it is.

Aventurine

About [Name]: [Name], [Name], [Name].... I see that you too have an eye for priceless treasures. Unfortunately for you, this particular one is already mine to behold. Mm, I wonder how my lover must be faring right now…. Missing them is truly, horribly debilitating.

About [Name]: Unworthy Whenever I think of [Name] being with me, of all people… Sometimes, the thought is unbearable. To think they would care for someone like me…. How truly lucky I am. Or maybe it's the other way around? Hehe, take a guess.

About Topaz: Contradictory Topaz and [Name] get along fairly well, despite her rather obvious dislike for me. Nonetheless, I suppose I can understand why. My lover is irresistibly charming~ Now, does this make me jealous, I wonder…. How about we bet on that?

Blade

About [Name]: Though this sword may be battered and broken, if you harbor any intention of harm towards them, I will not hesitate to brandish this blade.

About [Name]: Mara Infliction When afflicted with mara, the senses are ravaged ceaselessly, muddying the mind—being unable to distinguish ally from foe. This is my path. And yet their face is clear, pure amidst the carnage, alleviating the haze for but a moment. My mind may be overridden with hatred, but I will never forget that feeling of salvation.

(BONUS: Kafka’s Voiceline about [Name] !) About [Name]: Truly A Shame Bladie’s little darling, hm? Definitely a wonder, that one, taming him so easily. Those two are definitely an interesting case, that's for sure. Scary, marastruck Blade and them…. truly a shame. Even I know just how the ending of that particular script will end.

Acheron

About [Name]: …They are my lover, yes. Hm? Tell you more about them? Heh, I think you'd have better luck asking [Name] instead of me. I probably wouldn't even know where to begin.

About [Name]: Keeping Memories Despite the fact of my memories being in less than the best condition, [Name] always tells me about all the exciting things they've come across, whether it be delicious food from various planets, or even the most mundane things like the sound of the rushing water, the sight of fireflies in the night. They truly make everything worth remembering.

(BONUS: Black Swan’s Voiceline about [Name] !) About [Name]: Eye Of The Storm Ah, you speak of that Galaxy Ranger's companion…. The abyss that is her consciousness seems to only become calm in the face of them, akin to the eye of the storm. A shining light in the middle of nothingness—that is something that even she cannot let go of. No wonder Miss Acheron is quite taken with them.

Black Swan

About [Name]: The memories of Memokeepers are sorted into various categories by their importance. As my lover, my memories of them hold the greatest value of all. Such memories…. even if the Remembrance wishes for me to hand them over, I doubt I will ever allow it.

About [Name]: Dancing My proficiency in the act of dancing is all thanks to my continued practice with [Name] on our shared time together. Fufu, ‘dates,’ if you will. Every moment I spend in their arms, swaying to the beat of the music at every turn… those are the memories I wish to forever retain.

About Acheron: Indebted One time, Miss Acheron managed to get lost in the middle of the Reverie Hotel’s halls... as usual. [Name] came across her then, and proceeded to have a lovely chat with her. I owe her a debt for keeping my lover company as I was preoccupied with some matters the Garden of Recollection entrusted to me to relay to the family. Next time, perhaps I should invite her over for some dinner with [Name]....

end notes thanks for sticking around the part 2 (for the ogs who read pt 1) and do look forward to more HSR content in the future! also did i say i love aventurine

© 𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐈𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.

[sylusxyou]

Anything For You | LaDS Sylus x Reader Fic

Summary: Sylus is known by most to be dangerous and threatening. You are the exception. When you call him in need, there is nothing that will keep him from coming to you. Even if he’s in the middle of teaching an ambitious group of criminals a lesson.

Pairing: Sylus x Reader (MC or non-MC, whatever floats your boat I think) 

Content: Lovesick Sylus, just plain sick reader, purely fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

Author’s Note: This is 100% inspired by THIS PIECE by @heartswithinreach. I read it and could not get it out of mind. Go like and reblog! Wrote this while I’ve been home sick from work. Still getting back into practice with writing. I kinda love the beginning of this but feel it falls apart a bit at the end. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!! Now back to writing the Sylus yachting fic…. 

When the sky was black with the cover of midnight, the N109 Zone came alive. It was a breeding ground for criminals and their unsavory dealings and any ordinary citizen would tell you to avoid entering it at all costs. Of course, there were one or two things about the N109 Zone that kept you crossing the line from regular civilization to lawless land again and again. 

The leader of Onychinus was almost more myth than real man. Somehow everywhere and nowhere all at once, nothing in the N109 Zone happened that Sylus wasn’t privy to. The most successful deviants in the N109 Zone were the ones that accepted their place below Sylus and dared not challenge him. It was inevitable though, that some would seek to rise above him. Greed was powerful and often stripped people of their senses. It wouldn’t take long for some to be consumed by it and forget the failure of those who tried before them. 

This evening Sylus found himself dealing with one such forgetful crime syndicate. These ambitious groups were little more than a nuisance to him. Most of the time he would avoid dealing with them directly. He trusted Luke and Kieran to do much of the dirty work and often these groups would take care of themselves, fighting each other to the point of no return. This group, however, had amassed too much wealth and too many followers. This one required Sylus’ personal touch. 

Intel indicated an ambush planned for an auction taking place on this night. Sylus had originally planned to send Luke and Kieran to buy out the inventory. It was meant to be a show of wealth more than anything but when he learned of the ambush it became a show of power. He couldn’t allow anyone to steal from him even what he intended to be his. 

That is how Sylus found himself on the roof of an auction house, lazily dodging bullets and fists as man after man desperately tried to land a blow on him. Perhaps one day the people he fought would present a challenge for him but today was not that day. At this point Sylus was simply delaying the inevitable, prolonging the fight to make coming out here worth his time. As he found himself particularly amused by one individual that continued to charge at him no matter how many times he was knocked to the ground, Sylus’ phone rang in his pocket. The ringtone was distinct and indicated the person calling was the one person Sylus would drop everything for: you. 

As Sylus sidestepped a punch he pulled his phone out of his pocket, “Kitten, this is a surprise. What’s got you calling me so late?” 

The men surrounding him paused a moment and glanced at each other. Their faces seemed to say, ’Kitten?’. Surely they heard him wrong. The softness in his voice was something none of them had heard before and directly contradicted the violent and corrupt man they knew him to be. 

On the other side of the phone you laid in your bed, head pounding and face burning up. After a long day at work you had come home and fallen asleep immediately. As soon as you woke up you knew sickness had overtaken you. You weren’t entirely surprised. This week had been particularly strenuous and each night was more sleepless than the last. Unfortunately, because the week had been so busy, you hadn’t had time to restock your refrigerator. Your stomach ached from hunger and it was too late to get a delivery driver to pick something up for you. It was an easy decision to make, calling Sylus, as he had been pressing you more and more to rely on him. It didn’t come naturally to you but you knew how you felt when he relied on you. Certainly you could allow him that same warm feeling by expressing that you needed him every now and then. 

You heard distant grunting through the speaker on your phone, “Sylus, what was that? Is everything okay?” 

Your voice came out weaker than intended and Sylus noticed immediately, “I’m fine, but forget about me. What’s wrong? You don’t sound very good, sweetie.” Suddenly any entertainment he was getting from humoring the ambitious criminals surrounding him ran dry. You were the only thing on his mind. His evol stretched out to wrap around each individual on the roof, holding them all in place. Despite their struggling, none could break free. 

“Are you sick?” 

A short cough escaped your lips, “It would seem so. I didn’t have time to get groceries this week and I fell asleep before I could order dinner tonight. I was calling to see if you could get me some soup but if you’re in the middle of something don’t worry about it.” 

Sylus couldn’t help but chuckle at your attempt to ask for help. Even when you were sick and hungry you didn’t want to be a bother. “Kitten,” he moved towards one of the men trapped in his evol, “there’s nothing I could be doing that’s more important than taking care of you.” The men exchanged looks of disbelief around Sylus once again. What woman would be demented enough to put their care in this monster’s hands? 

What they didn’t know is that your heart squeezed at his words. To them he was a monster but to you he was a dark angel. His hands were certainly dirty but he was mostly misunderstood. You saw a side of him unknown to others. It was a side that was gentle and adoring, a side that you treasured above all else. Though you felt bad asking him to drop what he was doing to come to you, you knew Sylus wouldn’t have offered if he didn’t really mean it. This was a chance to let yourself be loved, something you didn’t do too often. 

“Okay,” you squeezed your eyes shut, attempting to push out the unnecessary guilt you felt for being a burden, “if you mean that, I could really use some soup. Maybe a hug too.” 

Sylus grinned, another move that unnerved the men waiting for him to decide their fates. It wasn’t the grin of a villain reveling in the fear on his prey’s faces. It was a soft grin that made him seem in love. Onichynus’ legendary leader was known to be many things but in love was not one of them. 

“I think I can get you both of those things. You must be feeling really ill if you’re asking me for help and affection.” 

This made you blush, “Well, I’m trying to rely on you more. You know, like you asked me to?” 

“That’s good, kitten. It makes me feel good when you lean on me.” Sylus’ focus shifted on the man in front of him, his expression going from soft and loving to intense and determined, “I just need to wrap up what I’m in the middle of and I’ll come to you. It shouldn’t take me too long so try not to fall back asleep before I get there, okay?” 

“Okay, and thank you, Sylus.” 

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” 

With that Sylus ended the call and placed his phone back in his pocket. In front of him the man choked out a laugh, his throat constricted by the tendrils of Sylus’ evol. Sylus raised an eyebrow, “And what could you possibly be laughing at in your position?” 

Despite his fear the man managed to form a reply, “I just can’t believe the fearsome leader of Onychinus is the type of man who would be at the beck and call of some bitch.” Around him the other men groaned, aware that he could not have chosen a worse string of words than that. 

“I’m not surprised,” Sylus’ evol pulled tighter around the man, slowly closing his airway, “that a rat such as yourself would find it emasculating to take care of a woman.” Now his evol pulled every man in its grasp towards him, “One minute of her company is worth more than all of your lives combined. Luckily for any woman unfortunate enough to encounter you, I’m planning on eradicating you from the living world. Any last words?” 

Simultaneously the men began shouting pleas for their lives, apologizing for their botched ambush attempt and their colleague’s ignorant words. Sylus pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly annoyed by the noise, “How pathetic and uninspired.” He turned and began to walk away from the men towards the edge of the roof, “Thank you for the temporary distraction. I’m off to much better company.” With that his evol burst with power, destroying the men in its grasp. It only took a moment for Sylus to return to his home, his encounter with the sorry excuses for criminals already forgotten. The only thing on his mind now was what soup would make you feel better and how he couldn’t wait to hold you in his arms.

[grimmsbride]

omf umm 🫣 your rex was so good. this is so specific but i feel like our preferences line up p well so im humbly requesting...

douchebag!rex and chubby!reader where rex is constantly teasing her, maybe pinching her side or teasing her for eating sweets or something. but behind the scenes he CANNOT get enough of her, furiously jerks off to the thought of her nightly, gets jealous when other ppl get too close to her.

she gets hit with sex pollen at some point and he gets assigned the job of taking care of her and making sure she doesn't try to fuck everyone she sees. but rex is the one having a hard time keeping it together bc fuck why is she so cute when shes a desperate mess

𝄃𝄀⠀⠀love potions⠀╲ rex sloan ֤ࣨ🫀𖥔 ݁ ˖

summary * 𓈒 you didn’t particularly like rex-splode, and the feeling seemed to be pretty neutral on his end. but a sudden mix of mystery smoke and being quarantined together, brings the two of you far closer then it should have.

tags * 𓈒 rex is extremely ooc. if you are here for a complete canon copy of him, you are at the wrong place— sorry to disappoint. | reader is a witch | typical sex pollen fic only this is my first time ever writing one 😞 | porn with plot(?) | incorrect biology (? maybe??) | sex with complicated feelings | mentions and examples of negging | rex is a dick & douchebag | reader is depicted as chubby / plus size & is a witch | overstimulation | over-exaggerated depictions of sex | raw sex | multiple positions | multiple orgasms | pet names ( pretty, mama, baby, etc etc ) | again hes ooc. | awkward time skips i’m sorryyy

author’s notes * 𓈒 this fic was supposed to be posted like two days ago but i made it way longer then i should have, and i genuinely don’t love how it came out but i still wanted to give my best in fulfilling your request— ty for requesting by the way 🫶🏾. the smut is towards the end if you don’t want to completely read the plot and as always please excuse any typos. i hope you enjoy this fic.

Had you broken your promise to Cecil? Your bold vow that you would never hex any of your teammates, no matter how much they pissed you off? Rex Sloan simply couldn’t wrap his head around it, brain nearly emitting smoke from how much his gears were turning.

It.. had to be a hex, right? Some spell in a fancy language he couldn’t identify, written right in those dingy pages of that grimoire you held so dear. He wondered how you did it, if you stood over him while he slept— whispering saccharine words and giggles, slipping in and out while he was none the wiser.

Only for Rex to wake with nothing but you, on his mind.

It was comical really, how much the outside body covers. One would think Rex hated your guts. And his mouth surely didn’t help. Releasing random remarks about your clothes clinging to your skin, how you should put down that donut once in a while, even going as far as pinching your sides — which always resulted in a quick slap, but still — if anyone on The Guardians were ever asked what relationship the two of you had it could always be described as borderline hostile.

However, appearances can be deceiving. It wasn’t that Rex hated you, or your body for that matter. Quite the opposite actually. The man couldn’t count on two hands how many times his eyes have trailed to your ass whenever you walked by or how he could nearly tremble whenever your form brushed up against him. You consumed him entirely; smell, face, everything about you was intoxicating to the point he simply could not get you out of his mind.

Working out? Rex was wondering if he would be able to lift you at his current rep. How his fingers would probably sink into your warm flesh as he tugged you closer by the hips, maybe you would even whine about being heavy— only for him to prove you wrong.

In the shower? All that steam surrounding him? Oh, the man could only imagine having you right beside him, suds sliding down your body like the stretch marks etched into your skin; the man would be steady wondering how hot and heavy the two of you could get— melting into the other until you’re basically forced to get out.

In his bed, under those comfortable blankets was the worst of all. During the day Rex was able to ignore his thoughts and focus on being a dick to everyone — mostly you — and being a superhero. But in his bed with nothing to ground him, his mind went wild.

Wild enough that it affected the rest of his body.

Most nights were spent rather sinfully, a hand wrapped tightly around his dick whilst arousal dripped from his angry red tip. Rex’s free hand was always on his face, as if shameful for what he was doing. And technically he was.

He was Rex Sloan, basically resident fuck-boy; meaning, jerking off should be really be at the bottom of the list. But when it came to you, any thought of approaching you for such a thing, for something other than random insults and remarks— the man was suddenly mute.

“Rex. Are you listening?”

The mechanical voice cut through the flood of thoughts swarming the man’s mind, snapping his eyes from the random buildings passing by to the machine currently driving the vehicle that soared through the air. And to the side was you, sitting so prim and perfectly in your dark clothes; hand currently occupied by a mirror to which your free hand plucked and fluffed your hair. In the midst your hand dragged down towards your chubby cheek and lower, fingers resting upon your lips to which you gently smoothed— probably assuring they were free of anything.

Rex couldn’t help but stare, throughly entranced with it all— suddenly feeling very jealous of your finger tips.

Were your lips as soft as they looked? He wondered how you would taste, he could just imagine them wrapped around his di—

“Rex?”

The moment his name was spoken again your eyes suddenly snapped to his through the mirror, causing the man to quickly look away, nearly glaring daggers into the back of Robot’s head.

“Yeah, yeah. I know the drill.” He waved it off, forcing a nonchalant facade. “We go to some greenhouse, blow up some freakish plant monster— and then get on with the day.”

Rex then allowed his gaze to tilt back to you, a rather stupid grin suddenly crossing his features.

“But what’s Ms. Sabrina the Witch doing here? You and I could handle this job no problem without the extra weight.”

Your eyebrow twitched, slamming your compact mirror closed as you turned to glare at the man.

“You think you’re so funny.. Maybe I should call Amanda to whoop your ass again.”

“What, you need a little girl to fight your battles?”

“Rex, you aren’t even worth a single spell in my book.. Though,” Your eyes trailed away from the man, suddenly looking deep in thought as your arms crossed over your bosom; “— Maybe I could turn you into a toad.. I’m not sure you would look any different, however.”

Rex couldn’t help but scoff, feeling far too many emotions swarm his stomach the moment he noticed those perfect lips lift into a simper. His own parted, ready to release some fast remark when Robot interrupted;

“From the information gathered by Cecil, there seems to be magical forces at play; explaining the sudden behavior of the plant. Both of you are needed for this mission, and you two are expected to act as a team.”

Those final words were spoken, the tense atmosphere quickly delving into silence. Like teenagers ridiculed the two of you crossed your arms, leaning back into your seats and waiting silently for this damned mission to begin.

Moments passed before the vehicle suddenly stopped, lowering to the ground before a large greenhouse. The windows were frosted, yet large shadows seemed to be pressed against the glass.

With ease you slipped out of the car, tucking your spellbook close and inspecting the outside carefully. What Robot said was right, there seemed to be some type of magical presence; strong enough you felt it from the outside.

You turned, hearing your other teammates exit the vehicle— Robot stepping to stand beside you. His metallic hand rose to the handle of the building, giving the two of you a single glance;

“Are you ready t—“

“Let’s get this over with already!”

. . .

Minutes, possibly even hours passed with the three of you attacking the plant that had taken over the building. With each vine Rex seemed to explode, another grew; dwindling all your progress to zero.

Finally in a sudden turn of events you found the perfect spell, reciting the olden language as a dark spiraled glyph etched into the ground below the plant.

Light sprung from your magic, incinerating the monster from within.

In the midst of this however, a sudden pinkish hue entered the air in the form of smoke, chasing towards you desperately as the plant breathed its final moments. You quickly flung an arm around your face, but it was far too late; feeling the foreign air run up your nose in a painful burn. It trickled down to your throat, clogging so much you began to cough; body shaking from the excursion. You fell to your knees, struggling to catch your breath, as sloppy wet coughs escaped your chest.

“[Name]!”

You didn’t know whether it was Rex or Robot speaking, deciding to focus on your breathing instead. Your eyes shut close, sucking in harshly to hopefully fill your lungs with fresh air and not whatever that mysterious smoke was. It took a couple of tries but you eventually succeeded, feeling your rushing heart relax the moment you could breathe again.

You slowly lifted from your hunched position, noting the way Robot stood close to you whilst Rex stood off to the side, gaze settled upon you with an unreadable expression.

“What the hell was that, Robot?! Did it just piss on her?”

“You’re..” You huffed softly, slowly rising to your feet, tucking your book close to your body. “— so immature.”

“I’m asking a serious question!”

You shook your head, switching your gaze over to the still machine, waiting for some type of answer. You secretly prayed Rex was wrong, knowing you would probably gag if it truly was magical monster plant pee.

“It wasn’t urine, Rex; the plant released a pheromone as a response to [Name] killing it. “ Rex explained slowly, stepping a tad bit closer to you, clearly scanning your form. “It’s current effects are unknown to me, however you seemed to have inhaled most of it and absorbed it through your skin.”

“What?” You hissed in concern, eyes falling to your body as if searching for some type of answer. You even went as far as swiping your skin, truly desperate to get whatever the hell it was off you.

“That won’t work.”

“Yeah, no shit Robot—“ Rex stepped in, eyebrows furrowed for a moment as he glanced down at you before switching his gaze back to his other teammate. “What are you gonna do?”

All was silent for a moment as Robot thought it over, possibly doing millions of calculations for an answer. You stood quietly, attempting to swallow your fear. This so called pheromone couldn’t be that bad.. right? Maybe it was like a skunk thing?

Okay, that did sound pretty bad.

Robot stole you from your thoughts the moment he spoke again, your eyes flicking to him and noticing his own head switched towards Rex.

“For now, while I assess the effects the two of you will be quarantined together.”

“What?”

“There’s no way in he—“

“You could possibly infect the others through contact and given Rex was nearby during the event, there’s a possibility the pheromones hit him as well.” Robot cut through your childish remarks with ease, watching your mouths clamp shut in response.

“This is only temporary. I will figure out an answer soon. For now, please work with me.”

. . .

You wanted to work with Robot, or more like needed to. So you were pretty silent on the ride back to headquarters albeit the little groans of irritation that escaped you each time you shifted, suddenly feeling every bit of fabric clinging to your skin.

It was a blur making it to the quarantine area— or rather your bedroom. You didn’t love having your biggest enemy in your safe haven, but you would have to make do.

“Feel any different?”

“You asked that three minutes ago, Rex.” You murmured softly, eyes closed as you laid amongst your soft blankets. You had taken a shower the moment you got back, something Robot recommended and something you definitely needed. Removing your clothes to relish under the hot water was pure bliss, you would have stayed under there for hours if you could. After which you dried and dressed in a simple shirt and shorts, baggy to combat the sudden suffocating sensation surrounding you.

You turned from lying on your back to your side, allowing your eyes to open and focus on the man across the room. He was seated on your vanity chair, dressed in a simple white tank and his super-suit pants. The man’s hair was done up in a messy bun, a few strands framing his face. You began to stare longer than you should have, only realizing the moment his eyebrow twitched up, clearly questioning your sudden interest on his face.

You breathed softly, “I don’t feel any different.. just, hot.”

“Hot?”

You gave a little nod, rolling onto your stomach as your face smushed into the blankets and pillows below you. “Hot.” You repeated softly, eyes closing for a moment. Hot, was an understatement. While your shower helped cool you down in the moment, it felt as if your temperature was slowly rising and rising— with no end in sight. It explained why you suddenly felt so suffocated; the fabric you wore clinging to your body as you began to sweat.

Along with this, you felt dizzy as if developing the worst super powered vertigo known to man. The only remedy was shutting your eyes tightly, even going as far as shoving your face into your bed to help.

“Really.. hot.” You murmured more to yourself rather than the man, but he heard regardless.

Rex couldn’t help the tinge of worry invading his body as he looked at you. He could hear the way you basically panted, as well as see your body rise and fall with every breath. He sucked in his own, rising to his feet and crossing the bedroom quickly.

“You’re not gonna be able to breathe like that, c’mon—“ he leaned upon your bed with a single hand whilst the other went for your arm, gently pushing you, however hissing the moment his palm made contact with your skin.

“Fuck, you’re boiling [Name].” Rex murmured, eyes casing down your front the moment you rested on your back. He immediately noticed the sweat presented on your skin, shining underneath your overhead light and trickling down your body. With each huff your chest was rising, hands clenching the shirt you wore as if to ground you.

“I’m.. starting to feel weird.” Your voice came out in a croak, as like it burned to speak; eyes blinking open to stare up at the man before you, which proved difficult given how you could barely focus.

Rex sucked in a breath, his hand gliding from your arm to instead maneuver towards your forehead. From the heat radiating against his palm it was clear you had a fever, terrible enough that it seemed to incapacitate you completely. Such a thought caused the man to worry, something he didn’t typically like doing but he couldn’t help it at this point.

“Are you in pain anywhere?”

You slowly shook your head, causing the man’s hand to glide lower, coming into contact with your cheek. The moment it did, you shivered, eyes shutting close and seemingly leaning into his touch. It felt cooling compared to the rest of your body, a funny thought given his entire power was exploding shit.

Still, it seemed like the remedy to your situation, causing you to basically sink into his touch; a sigh gliding through your nostrils.

This took Rex by surprise, eyes widening slowly at the display. You, the woman he was oh so sure hated him, was leaning into his touch? It truly must be winter in hell for such a thing to happen.

“[Name]..?” He called on hushed breath, throughly confused by the situation. You didn’t respond, at first; seemingly content with your cheek in his hand. But the moment Rex moved your eyes were flying open, reaching over to lock your fingers around his wrist.

“Don’t.. move. Please don’t move.”

You murmured softly, borderline whimpering as you turned to place the full weight of your head into his palm. Your fingers dragged down his wrist to his arm, coaxing him to stay just where you wanted— needed him to be. Your entire body was overheating at this point, your clothes feeling far too restricting as if you were ready to burst out the seams. You released a shuddering breath, shifting once more and allowing your lips to graze his skin, nose pressed up against his wrist in turn.

The moment his smell hit you, you were murmuring a soft swear; nails dragging against his skin as desperation began to fill your entirety.

Rex couldn’t do a thing but sit there and gape, attempting to stay composed despite what was unfolding before him. His fingers twitched as they glided close to you hair, feeling something else twitch as your lips traced his skin— fuck, what were you doing? The man wanted nothing more than to ask just that, tearing his hand away in the process.

But he couldn’t, not with the way those pretty eyes were fluttering at him, clearly so desperate for his touch. Rex’s tongue slipped out to glide across his bottom lip nervously, nearly convulsing as he watched your gaze fall to the simple action.

Everything was growing so hot around the two of you, as if the pheromones had seeped out completely and covered every inch of your room. Silence carried before your lips parted to speak a sweet,

“Rex..”

It took a moment for the man to reply with how his name tasted on your tongue. You had abandoned that usual hint of annoyance and frustration crafted specifically for him, instead choosing something so soft, and downright irresistible it was causing his mind to go wild.

His teeth dragged across his cheek, finally releasing a simple; “What is it? Do you.. want me to go get Robot?”

You couldn’t have shaken your head any faster, hand even tightening around his arm— as if truly scared his touch would leave. You brought your body closer to the edge of the bed, closer to him; eyes carrying down his form as soft huffs pushed through pouted lips.

“No..— please, please stay. I need you to stay, Rex.” A drawn out beg escaped you quickly, Rex sucking in air at your words. Stay? He had no choice but to. The two of you were quarantined after all.

But something told him that wasn’t what you were only entailing. Something, like how your gaze simply couldn’t focus on a single spot; trailing from his face down to his legs— lingering there for a moment before returning back to his features.

“Then wha—“

“I need,” You begun slowly, struggling to find the words as hurried breaths escaped. The feeling running through you was completely foreign, sensations, senses, all of it; cranked up completely to one hundred. Fear of the unknown pooled deep in your stomach, followed by something else entirely the longer you looked at the man before you.

Finally you seemed to find what you wanted, fingers dragging against his skin once more, it pricking with each touch.

“You. I need you, Rex. I need to feel you..”

You were lying. This was a trick to fuck with him right? There’s no way you, wanted him in that way. It was all some ploy to admit something he didn’t want to, right? It had to be..

Rex wanted to open his mouth to refuse you, brain screaming at him to push you away. Push her, push her, push her— it thundered in his head as if the only plausible answer to the situation.

But the moment a single please escaped those pretty lips, the only thought in Rex’s head was;

Fuck this.

The hand upon you gripped your cheek with purpose, the man leaning to snatch your lips in a heated kiss. The moment the two of you connected, a soft whine escaped right into his mouth— your free hand latching onto his body quickly. Your lips moved in such a perfect rhythm, igniting your already hot body to basically boil over. You couldn’t help how desperate your lips were getting, whimpering and whining; practically begging for more out of the man.

The two of you parted, Rex watching the way you attempted to chase his lips, eyelids coming to hang low over green eyes that took you in so intently.

“Rex, please..”

“I hear you.” His words broke through the fog slowly clouding your mind, you completely focused on him and only him. The way he breathed, stared, how he ever so slowly lifted himself to hover over your sweltering body; bringing himself to rest on his forearm whilst the other hand continued to hold your face.

“I got you mama, shit..” Rex dragged softly as he pressed another kiss to your lips, leading his own down to your chin, neck, before stamping kisses right against your collarbone. Your taste was a perfect swirl of salty and sweet, curtesy of your sweat and the body wash you had previously used. The man released your face to instead carry his hand downwards, soon reaching the edge of your shirt; breaching the clothing to spread his hand across your stomach.

Rex could nearly groan the moment his fingers clenched, delighted by the way his digits sunk into your plump flesh— hot against his hand and completely perfect despite what he claimed. His eyes took you in searching for something, anything that would tell him to stop— that you didn’t want this at all. But the man only received a pout, and eyes filled to the brim with want.

For him, and only him.

Such a look had him shuddering, leaning close and muttering a quick so desperate for me right upon your lips— such words causing you to keen and melt into him completely. Your arms wrapped around him tightly, never wishing to let go as you felt his comforting hand crossing from your warm stomach and up, the cool air gliding across your skin the more exposed it got.

You gasped as Rex’s fingers traced your breast for a moment, simply playing with you before allowing two of them to enclose a hardened nipple; stimulating the peak so perfectly that sparks were emitting between your thighs. You couldn’t help but lift your hips up, finding what you wanted — his thigh — and dragging yourself up and down slowly.

The stimulation caused you to pant into him, sounds overtaken the moment his tongue intruded your mouth; licking into the dark space with such interest. With a twirl of your two wet, appendages you were moaning softly, feeling the combined spit trickle down your chin the longer you kissed.

You were already dizzy before but with his mouth, fingers, and thigh; you could only describe your mind being a spiral with no end in sight.

As he pulled away you panted, grinding against his thigh like some pathetic dog in heat— clearly desperate for friction to ease the ache between your legs.

Rex took you in greedily, rising up to his haunches, continuing to tweak your breast whilst his other hand carried from your bed and to your body, dragging across your covered sex. Your shorts were soaked, basically ruined; arousal seeping through the fabric easily. He watched as you practically withered at his touch, not so secretly rising your hips to his hand once again.

With another drag of his hand you were whining, peeking up at the man;

“Rex.. don’t tease, please don’t tease me.”

You were palpable, shaking, wanting, needing— everything and anything Rex could have ever wanted. The last thing on his mind was teasing you again.

He was practically tearing your pants and panties off, tossing them to some corner you could worry about later. Your thighs parted, exposing the way a glossy, slick coated your aching cunt; clit swollen, begging for attention as your hole fluttered. Rex couldn’t help but drool, dipping his fingers to coat in your essence, watching the way you practically shook from the naked touch.

“Fuck.. you’re soaked.” Rex whispered, dragging a finger along before finding your little button, circling it carefully. He watched the way your face screwed up in pleasure, how your thighs twitched, slowly enclosing his hand— refusing to let him go where you needed him most.

Your eyes glossy, a film of pure lust covering the pretty gaze; such a look had the man basically huffing, feeling all inhibitions leave his body in a single trickle. Rex continued to circle your swollen clit, feeling the way you so desperately rose into his hand, he knew this was the most sensitive part of a woman, but god— the way you withered was otherworldly.

“Rex, Rex, Rex..” You were whining his name so pathetically, fingers tugging at your blankets as your hips swiveled in the direction of his finger. The ache inside of you only seemed to grow, the pressure building up in your stomach and threatening to spill over. You could feel the way globs of arousal basically pooled from within you, trickling down to your taint and surely staining the bedsheets.

“Fuck… why do you look so pretty like this?”

The question was spoke out loud, yet truthfully not for you to answer. Rex racked his brain on why exactly he waited so long to have you like this. He was such a dick, truly and utterly— to you, and to himself.

The man’s eyes flicked from your pretty pussy back to your even prettier features, gliding his fingers lower to prod at your weeping entrance; easily pushing two digits in to which your velvety walls basically sucked in.

He wasted no time in thrusting the appendages in and out, enjoying the way your moans pitched so perfectly; hitting every inch of his brain in the best symphony. He scissored and curled, brushing up against that spongy spot you; yourself, have never been able to reach with your own fingers.

And the moment Rex’s thumb rose, sweeping across your sensitive button; you were truly done for.

Your hand flew down to his wrist, gripping, refusing to let him go as rushed cries quickly turned into sharp bellows of his name the longer he ruined you with his fingers. It shouldn’t feel this damn good at all. Not simply because it was his fingers but also because it was Rex himself.

The idiot that always looked at you with such disdain, always treated you oddly, mocking you— the whole nine yards like some little bully. Yet here he was, staring at you so sweetly while easing that desperate ache that only he could solve. Only him.

You would slap yourself later. When your mind wasn’t so warped. For now, you wanted nothing more than to be ruined and built right back up by the man you claimed to hate.

Your nails scratched at his skin, thighs closing in around his arm as that pressure thundered deep in your stomach— ready to burst at any time. You couldn’t help the way tears pricked at your eyes, spilling over with each of your quick blinks.

In your daze you heard Rex coo, maybe whisper; soon feeling him move towards your side, face hovering close to your own whilst his fingers continued that perfect rhythm inside of you.

“I can’t believe I’m seeing you like this,” Awe clung to his words, heavy lidded eyes dedicating each pleasure stricken feature to memory; refusing to let it go. “So fucking perfect like this.. I’m such a dick, fuck—“ Rex wondered if he was suddenly getting infected, given the way you so easily took over every sense of his. He felt, smelt, saw, and tasted just about every inch of your presence; a concoction that even the best bartender couldn’t even begin to replicate.

“—Mm close! Fuck.. Rex, please..!”

Your walls clung to his fingers, peak rising so quickly only to crash even faster. The tears spilled over, coating your cheeks whilst your arousal coated his fingers, and your bedsheets. You shook from the aftershocks, desperately trying to catch your breath; whining the moment you felt Rex remove his fingers.

The man opened his mouth to speak, but you moved much faster, reaching out to plant your hands onto his shoulders. You rose, pressing your lips to his own whilst pushing at his body; affectively getting him to lay onto his back whilst you crawled over his body.

Rex could nearly cum in his pants the moment you laid out amongst him, his hands immediately falling to your plush thighs, tugging them; eyes rolling back at how soft you felt against his skin. And the moment he realized you were dragging your hips, smearing your messy pussy across his covered bulge; the man pulled back to groan, shuddering breaths escaping his chest.

“Fuck, fuck— wait, don’t you need to, recover— [Name]?”

“Nnn.. no, no..”

He watched as you rose to sit in his lap, hips still bucking, still grinding and rolling like some machine that refused to turn off. You looked like a fucking goddess above him, hair a mess yet framing your features perfectly, eyes glossy, lips shining with your combined saliva; Rex wondered what he did he do to deserve such a display.

“Need more.. fuck I need it Rex, please!” With a particularly long drag of your hips you were shaking, hands pressed against his chest, crumpling the shirt he wore within your palms. It was like your body didn’t care you had finished just a second ago, still completely aching in desperation as if you were completely untouched.

Your sweet whines did something to Rex, the man swearing under his breath, the previous worry he held for you no longer present. Wasting no time, he allowed his hands to fall from your body to instead find the waistband of his pants, resting his feet onto the bed to shimmy his garments down to his thighs.

His length sprung from its confinements, tip flushed with pearly globs of white slipping from its slit. You brushed close, sweltering center dragging across it so perfectly the both of you could only groan.

Rex’s hands found your hips again, squeezing the flesh within his fingers as his own hips rose to buck into you. “C’mon mama, it’s all yours.. don’t tease.” His head tilted, eyes fluttering closed the moment you ground against him once again. His tip bumped against your swollen button, dragging to your fluttering hole; prodding there for a moment before slowly pushing past the ring of muscle.

The man downright shivered, sparks running down his spine the way your wet walls clung to his dick, shaping around it so perfectly he swore you were made just for him. You weren’t any better, nearly falling apart as you enveloped him completely— ass rested on his legs, seated so perfectly. The stretch should have burned, but you only felt pure bliss with every inch pushed into you. Filled to the brim, his dick basically throbbing inside you, veins brushing against your walls; hitting places you didn’t even know existed.

You didn’t wait to adjust, to allow air to even fully expand your lungs before you were lifting yourself until only the tip remained inside— dropping down in one full motion. The moan released you was pure sickeningly sweet honey, clutching the man so desperately as more hurried drops of your hips followed.

Rex clung to your hips for dear life, barely being able to keep himself together. The single thought of don’t come, don’t come, swirled inside his mind; proving more difficult the longer you rode him. His body shook with each heavy pant he released, nails digging into your plush skin as his eyes nearly met his skull.

“Jus… ha— just like that baby, fucking use me—“ His feet suddenly planted firmly upon your bed, meeting each of your ruts with his own thrusts, tip striking your g-spot so perfectly.

Stars invaded your vision, body sweltering, sweat trickling down every single part of your body— but you refused to stop, you couldn’t. You felt as if you could die without this. And they may have been true, with how you were clinging to the man like he was some kind of anchor.

You lowered yourself, quick breaths fanning across his exposed skin; whining the moment you felt his arms wrap tightly around your waist, feeling him drill into you without a care.

“Rex, o—oh god, fuck!” You shoved your face into his neck, sniffling and sobbing as that ache swelled. You weren’t even thinking properly nor making sense, incoherent words that sounded like some jumbled prayer of his name slipping off your tongue far too quickly.

Before you could even breathe the man was suddenly flipping your positions, hands going for your thighs and spreading you open— fucking into you so deeply, you could have sworn he was in your cervix at this point.

“So perfect.. fucking perfect, fuck, fuck..” His words came out in a drawn fashion, eyes glued to your body. He pushed your thighs, watching the way your stomach rolled up in response; Rex swearing he was getting hard all over again. Your breasts bounced with every thrust, ass rippling each time his hips made contact.

Far too quickly you were coming undone, coil snapping without warning leaving you a shaking mess that could only gasp and cry. Your slick escaped, coating his dick; creating a creamy ring around the base as he simply would not, stop, moving. Instead the man lowered, coming closer and sliding your legs to his shoulders.

Through shallow thrusts Rex spoke, “Been so fucking mean to you. You forgive me baby, huh?” All while planting the sweetest kisses against your skin, as if he wasn’t utterly wrecking you.

You could only whine, hands sliding to his back, dragging your nails against him as you shook your head far too fast— making yourself even more delirious then before.

But that wasn’t enough for the man, no, that wasn’t what he wanted, needed.

A hand came between the two of you, easily finding your messy clit and rubbing circles into the bud. You shook, overstimulation biting at your body to the point you were keening.

“Wanna hear you say it, pretty…” Rex spoke in-between sharp thrusts and shaky exhales. “—I was a fucking ass..asshole, and liar; every inch of you is perfect.. shit, you have me obsessed [Name].”

It was clear the man wasn’t thinking straight from how easily the confession swept from his lips, some type of metaphorical weight being lifted off his shoulders the moment it was uttered however. Rex took in the way you struggled to keep your eyes on him, and with how you were tossing back and forth between ecstasy he was sure you hadn’t heard a damn thing.

Still, the pace of both his fingers and hips quickened, moving much closer to kiss you, soft cooes of forgive me, being pushed into your mouth.

Your hands trailed to his hair, bun long forgotten as the strands peeked and slid between the gaps of your fingers. Rex swallowed your last bellow, your entire body jerking as you squirted, making a complete mess of him, yourself, and your bed.

He wasn’t too far behind, groaning into you as he drove himself deeper, gripping your skin as he flooded you with his come; adding to the mess the moment it began to trickle out.

Rex’s hips finally stilled, hand even moving away from your pretty cunt yet his lips remained on you, still kissing you so sloppily yet gingerly. Moments passed of this lip locking before he pulled away for air, forehead resting against your own as he greedily sucked it up.

You panted as well, that once unquenchable ache now very dull compared to before. You melted into the bed, sighing heavily as your hands dragged from his hair to his cheeks, collecting them in your palms.

“I forgive you.” You whispered, watching recollection cross his features, causing your lips to curl into a little grin. “But yeah, you’re a dick.”

Rex couldn’t help the little grin pulling his lips, “I know. But hey, I helped you get rid of that monster plant piss— just had to sweat it out.”

You groaned softly, pushing at his body to which the man laughed, refusing to break away.

“You ruin everything.”

[cheriecoke]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ COME BACK TO BED — levi ackerman

summary . . . you crave levi, but he isn't there when you wake up.

contents . . . f!reader, nsfw mdni, cock warming, office (?) sex, creampie, piv, unprotected sex, fluff, honestly i haven't been in much of a mood to write smut but this has been in my drafts for a while so it gets really soft at the end— 2.2k

you walk into the room, frowning at the sight of your lover still behind his desk, bent over the parchment. light shadows his face, sparkling over him like a candle, illuminating him in a yellow hue. he’s so beautiful, and you ache for him. the desperation inside of you only grows, even though it is dually coated in worry. 

“levi?” you say, lips drawn down as you approach, blinking away your sleepiness. “why are you still working?” 

it’s nearly three in the morning; the bed was cold and empty when you left, and the middle of winter was unforgiving. though levi didn’t sleep often, he, at least, made an effort to when you were at his side. tonight, though, it seems he’s given up on the matter, scribbling notes on the paperwork instead.

“i have to finish this by tomorrow,” levi says, dismissive, not even bothering to glance up. 

your frown deepens, and you repeat his name, softer as you come around the side of the desk. you’d woken up so desperate for him, and when he was not there to coax an orgasm out of you, you’d tried to take on the task yourself. 

though, your fingers didn’t feel as nice as his did, hadn’t reached the places inside of you that his cock could. and, you craved it, craved him so much that you hadn’t been able to go back to sleep. 

“come back to bed,” you mutter, but even then, you can hear the desperation in your voice, the subtle tone that it takes on whenever you want him badly. 

his writing stops. he turns back to you, eyes hardening as you place a gentle hand on his shoulder. you run your soft fingertips along the juncture between his neck and jaw, batting your eyelashes at him so sweetly. 

there’s a dark look in his irises that you pick up on easily, but you can’t tell if he’s irritated with you, or if it’s the lust that is spreading in the ocean of his eyes. his jaw sets, and his normally straight mouth draws tighter. “i have to finish this.” 

“can i stay here, then?” 

he sticks his tongue into the side of his cheek. “i’m—”

you can already hear his protest, how he’ll say your name so softly in an apology, kiss you on the lips before sending you back to your shared room. but you’re determined to get your way tonight, and you can feel the wetness gathering between your legs, the ache still thrumming through your body. 

“want you inside me, levi,” you say softly, almost begging as you lean down to whisper into his ear. “please.” 

levi stops, eyeing you with the intensity that he faces with everyone, an intensity that doesn’t always soften for you. still, by now, you’re used to it — find it endearing, really, how serious he can be. 

“you going to be a distraction?” levi scans your face. 

you jut your lower lip out just a bit, almost pouting, “no,” you promise. “just want to feel you.” 

for a moment, he considers, before finally relenting. levi sighs, then pulls back the chair, his strong thighs on display as you maneuver yourself onto his lap. even the brief feeling of his knee against your clothed cunt sends a sharp whimper through you. 

“you can’t move. i’ve put this off for long enough.” 

“since when did you care about any of that?” you ask, yawning as you slip your pants off your hips. “i thought hange did the paperwork, anyway.” 

“if only.” he gives you a pointed look, tracing your jaw with his thumb. “just sit still.” 

levi focuses his attention back on the paperwork, and when you spare a brief glance at it, you notice that it’s reports from the past few missions. for the government in the interior, assigned specifically to captain levi. 

you refrain from a sarcastic remark, and instead, slide levi’s zipper down, waiting for any reaction. he gives you none, signs his name on the bottom line, and flips the parchment over. 

“levi,” you start, but he shushes you again, kissing your cheek dismissively. 

“no talking.” 

“you’re so rude.” 

he raises his eyebrow, but you slide his cock out of his pants, warming it in your palm. a soft little sigh leaves him as you stroke him until he’s hard, but he schools his expression into a neutral position, leaning back in the chair. 

you’re naked from the waist down, but he doesn’t seem to care. with something of a frown, you slip his cock inside you and sink your hips down. your fingers dig into his shoulders as you move, sliding right into him.

levi’s dark eyes dart towards you. “shit,” he gasps, his other hand holding onto your hips. “why are you so wet already?” 

a small whimper leaves you as he fills you up, stretches your walls, as you settle onto his cock. though it feels so good, you squeeze his arms and try not to move. “you weren’t there when i woke up,” you say, resting your head on his shoulder and pressing a kiss to the space between his neck. “so i tried to take care of it myself.”

levi’s eyes flash. “dirty girl.” his voice is deeper, a rumble that you feel in his chest. “couldn’t help but touch yourself to the thought of me when i wasn’t there, hm? but i bet your fingers weren’t enough, were they?” 

you exhale deeply, shaking with the need to move as your walls flutter around him. “levi.” 

“needed my cock inside you instead, didn’t you, love? probably would’ve begged me to fuck you until you were tired enough to fall back asleep.” 

“god, levi, please.” you start, and you shift your hips once. your clit rubs right against him, his long cock settling inside you as a heavy moan almost escapes. instead, you bite down hard on his neck; but levi forces you down even harder on his lap, his eyes relentless. 

“i told you not to move, didn’t i?”

you blink back at him, but his face is serious, hardened lines stretching from each angle of his face. and though you want fuck yourself on his dick, and every atom in your being tells you to do so, you listen to him. somehow, you refrain from shifting your hips again.

sitting still, you bury your face into his neck and heave a great sigh, brushing the delicate skin beneath his jaw. 

“good girl,” levi says flippantly, his long, slender finger grazing up your spine. the simple words alone send a pulse straight through your body, and you whimper against him, your cunt squeezing tighter, wet from the deep intonation of his voice. 

levi says nothing else, but you can feel his smirk as he kisses your temple. he never fails to remind you how precious you are to him, even when he is a bit short with you. and even though he is never the best about telling you how much he loves you, his affections run deep.

he plays with the end of your hair, soothingly, and though you can’t ignore him deep inside you, it almost lulls you back into a peaceful sleep. 

after what feels like hours of subtle torture, you speak again. 

“levi,” you hum against his throat, when he flips another page, signing his name on the dotted line. “i love you so much.” 

his hand stills on your back, fingers tapping once against your spine before resuming. it’s still difficult for him to repeat the words, but you know it’s only out of his fear that you will one day be taken away from him. levi squeezes your hip once more, huffs, and sets the pen down. 

“i’m certain you know how much you mean to me,” levi returns, pulling you away from his neck so that you’re able to face him once again. “you’re supposed to be being quiet.” 

his face is stern, but his eyes are anything but; soft and loving. levi’s cheeks are flushed red, and though he is strong — the strongest — that alone is not enough to combat how he feels when he’s inside you. it brings a small, knowing smile to your face.

“i was being sweet,” you say, sleepily, testing your luck by lifting your hips and settling them once more. the feeling is more intense than you’d expected, and a little moan escapes your mouth, lips parting softly. “i do love you.” 

“i’m certain you’re just trying to butter me up,” levi’s mouth is against your own, the words leaving on a shaky breath, tickling your skin. “so you can get what you want.” 

you laugh, fanning your fingertips against his cheeks. “is it working?”

levi spares you one more hardened expression, tightly drawing his mouth together, before he’s lifting you, shifting you onto the desk, your back pressed against the papers. “unfortunately,” he grunts, kissing all over your face before he threads his fingers with your own. “god. the things you do to me. can’t think straight.” 

he thrusts up into you, hard, and you close your eyes, kissing him, much more slowly than the pace he sets with his hips. levi squeezes your palm tightly, the other roaming across your chest, your stomach, before settling at your hips. “you’re everything to me, you know? my beautiful girl. don’t know what i’d do without you.” 

you smile against his mouth and tug at his hair with your free hand, feeling the soft tendrils between your fingers. it’s ironic, that he thinks you’re beautiful, when you’re certain he’s the most angelic creature you’ve ever seen. “i’m not going anywhere, levi. i promise.” 

levi speeds up, involuntarily, eyes so intense as he watches every subtle change of your expression. but you are too sleepy to do much but breathe into his mouth, soft little moans that have levi thrusting into you twice as hard.

it doesn’t take long for him to coax the first orgasm out of you, and you’re barely able to whisper his name before you clench around him, squeezing the palm that’s still locked within your own.

levi smiles, but it’s snarky, a mix between satisfaction and annoyance. “looks like you got your way after all.” 

you laugh, breathless, kissing across his cheeks as he grows sloppy, chest heaving with the weight of his exhales. though levi wants to pin this all on you, you can tell that he needs to relax too. the past few hours without a moment of sleep, doing nothing but paperwork, have taken a toll on him. 

“must be so hard for you, huh?” you tease, eyelashes fluttering closed as you lean against him, letting your forehead drop to his shoulder. “getting to fuck me on a desk like this. what a chore.” 

“you shouldn’t talk to your captain like that,” levi teases, but he groans out the last few words, cheeks flushed from how close he is. lazily, your fingers run across his chest, and though a second orgasm is steadily building, you want to watch him come apart first.

“perhaps,” you say, smiling as you kiss his chest, your hair tickling the bottom of his jaw. “but i’m not talking to my captain, i’m talking to you, levi.” you lean back up to kiss him, once, again, just the softest brush of your lips. “and i want you to cum inside me.” 

levi’s eyes flash, and you can see the moment that he unravels, the next few seconds where his movements get erratic. then, his features change, plump bottom lip separating from the top one. the look in his eyes grows distant, and his stomach flexes, abs tightening, before the heat of his cum shoots inside of you. 

levi topples onto you, his chest landing on yours as you fall back onto the desk. his cock finally slips out of you.

“shit,” levi says, running his hands along your thighs, sweaty skin sticking to each other. “we’re going to ruin the papers.” 

“who cares,” you yawn, rubbing your eyes before encircling levi’s neck with your arms. “the military police can deal with the mess.”

“you’re disgusting.” 

“they’d probably get off on it, don’t you think? the interior is full of hedonists anyway.”

levi snorts. “maybe. but i prefer not to think about how they spend their free time.”

you laugh again, just a breath of air, and settle against him. levi is warm, his arms are strong, and he smells clean; a mix of soap and the sweet fragrant of citrus. he holds you so gently, despite all of the hardness that lingers in his body. you’ve never known anyone to feel so much like home.

“will you come to bed now?” you ask sleepily. “i don’t want to go to sleep alone.” 

levi softens, and he traces your cheekbone with his thumb, as best he can at the awkward angle. “sure, love. i should get some rest anyway.”

[blackenedsnow]

Hello! May I request a shadow x reader, where the reader loves him in any form or shape, etc. Imagine Shadow turning into that Doom morph in Sonic X Shadow generations, and reader is still head over heels for him. Admiring his form with gleaming eyes filled with fondness and adoration, plus readers curiosity of touching those tentacles, or all of him in general.

Thank you!

unwavering adoration

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

NOTE: Thank you so much for requesting this! Hope you enjoy :)

SUMMARY: You’ve always admired Shadow in every way. When you stumble upon him in his Doom morph, your reaction catches him off guard—but in the best way.

You had always loved every part of Shadow, from his calm, stoic strength to his unwavering loyalty to those he cared about. But even after all this time, it was clear he still kept parts of himself hidden.

When you stumbled across him in his other form—a figure with dark, twisting tentacles and an otherworldly aura swirling around him—you felt a spark of intrigue and awe instead of the fear he probably expected.

"Shadow?" you whispered, taking a cautious step forward. "Is… that you?"

A deep, layered voice responded. “Yes. I didn't mean for you to see me like this. Sorry.” His words sounded richer, darker somehow, like they were coming from another realm altogether.

You couldn’t stop the wonder from spreading across your face as you studied the mysterious form before you. Shadow was still himself, but there was a supernatural energy that gave him a powerful, almost regal presence. “You can talk like that? That's amazing.”

Shadow tilted his head, his red eyes glowing with an intensity that could intimidate anyone but you. “You’re… not frightened?”

You shook your head, absolutely fascinated. “No way. It’s… beautiful. Can I…?” You hesitated, then reached out toward one of the dark, smooth tentacles, curiosity radiating from you.

He nodded, watching you carefully. “If you wish.”

Your fingers lightly brushed one of the tentacles. It was cool and smooth to the touch, surprisingly gentle as it wrapped around your hand, almost instinctively curling to hold you. You laughed softly, beaming at him.

“They’re so cool,” you murmured, running your fingers along the tentacle, and then up to where it connected to his shoulder. “I had no idea you could look like this.”

Shadow’s gaze softened as he watched you explore his form without fear or hesitation. “It’s… a part of me I didn’t think you’d ever see,” he admitted quietly. “This form was something I thought best kept… hidden.”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be.” You smiled up at him, your admiration evident in your eyes. “I think it’s incredible. It’s just another side of you.”

For the first time, Shadow felt a sense of pride in his other form. Not because of its power or fearsome nature, but because you saw it as something worthy of appreciation.

“I could stay in this form a bit longer,” he offered quietly, voice dipping into that layered tone that sent a pleasant shiver through you. “If you’re comfortable with it.”

You grinned, nodding eagerly. “I’m more than comfortable. There’s just… so much to take in.” You took a small step back, letting your eyes roam over his figure, noting the way the dark energy seemed to pulse and breathe around him, as though alive in its own right.

Shadow’s gaze softened further. “Then take all the time you need.”

You reached out once more, this time trailing your fingers along the glowing red markings on him. They were cool to the touch, and you swore you felt a subtle thrum of power beneath your fingertips. “You don’t have to hide anything from me, Shadow,” you whispered, voice filled with gentle affection. “I’ll always want every part of you, no matter what it looks like.”

For the first time, he seemed to struggle for words, caught off guard by the depth of your acceptance. “I never expected anyone to feel… this way about it.” He closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself truly relax, feeling the trust between you deepen.

When he opened his eyes again, there was a softness in his expression, the faintest trace of a smile gracing his features. “Thank you,” he murmured.

You gazed up at him with the same unyielding fondness. “You’ll never need to thank me for that. Being with you—every part of you—is my choice.”

The air between you felt charged with a shared understanding, a quiet intimacy that transcended even words. Shadow gently wrapped one of his tentacles around your shoulders, pulling you into a gentle embrace, his gaze lingering on you with gratitude.

As you rested against him, feeling the unique combination of warmth and otherworldly energy that surrounded him, you knew one thing for certain: there would never be a side of Shadow you couldn’t love.

[helaintoloki]

Hiii! First of all, I really like the way you write, hope you're doing so good.

Have you ever think about Bucky meeting reader and like, is the cliché thing of "he fell first and hard"? but reader was never aware of it. She never pursued anything. Not that she didn't find Bucky handsome, charming or anything but she thought he wouldn't want a relationship after everything he went through.

a/n: i am such a sucker for bucky pining over oblivious reader you have no idea anon. i hope you like how this came out!

warnings: pining, fluff, bucky is a bit insecure, subtle angst

summery: Bucky has loved you for as long as he’s known you, but he’s not willing to risk your friendship by telling you that. thankfully, you take matters into your own hands

Bucky Barnes could recall the exact moment he realized he had feelings for you.

You’d only been an Avenger for a month and had just completed your first mission. Beaten down and sore beyond relief, the team had gathered around the common room to indulge in cheap takeout and rehash the events of the assignment. You mostly remained quiet, blending into the background while avidly gathering wisdom from the veteran members and taking note of the pointers they gave each other.

Then Sam cracked such an absurdly stupid joke you found yourself laughing so hard water shot out of your nose and straight onto a horrified Tony. All eyes were suddenly on you, and while most would have cracked from the pressure of such an embarrassing moment so early on in your career, it only served to make you laugh harder. Soon the whole room was filled with laughter and aching smiles, and you found yourself settling comfortably amongst your new teammates.

Your unabashed confidence and the ability to make yourself right at home with the team caught his attention immediately, and he spent the rest of the night trying to catch another glimpse of your smile or hear you laugh at Sam’s terrible jokes. Though he wasn’t one to buy into the whole notion of “love at first sight,” Bucky knew he was smitten, and he knew there was no going back.

Of course, Bucky never dared to speak these thoughts aloud, and despite his very strong feelings for you he remained stoic and professional around you, or at least as professional as he could be given your playful and alluring nature. Despite initially trying to keep his distance in an attempt to extinguish his feelings, you never seemed to leave him alone. You clung to Bucky the most out of all your teammates, and after a while he eventually gave up trying to stay away. However, becoming your closest friend and confidant only made his feelings worse, and every day that passed by your side only made his feelings grow stronger.

Unfortunately for him, it seemed you were none the wiser to his feelings, and Bucky felt there was no chance you’d ever reciprocate them, so he kept quiet and convinced himself he was fine with just being your friend.

Even if being your friend involved late night slumber party activities the evening before a mission.

“Wouldn’t Natasha or Wanda have been better suited for this?” Bucky grumbles while you gently comb a brush through his hair, your legs dangling over the edge of your mattress and resting on his shoulders as he sits on your plush throw rug beneath you.

“Natasha spends the night before a mission alone to clear her head, and Wanda likes to meditate with Vision,” you state plainly before setting aside your brush so you can begin to section his hair.

“And how is this supposed to help you prepare?” Bucky questions skeptically, putting on an annoyed front despite the fact that he very much likes the feel of your fingers gently raking against his scalp. No matter how often he pretended to be inconvenienced by your shenanigans, he’d never say no to anything you asked him. You had the man wrapped around your finger, and the worst part was you didn’t even know it.

“It helps me take my mind off of things so I’m not so nervous going into it,” you explain with a sheepish shrug. “It relaxes me. And… it also makes me fight harder to make sure I come home alive.”

“What do you mean?” Bucky prompts more seriously now, tone devoid of his previous combativeness. Your hands falter for a moment, causing the braid you’d worked so meticulously on to slowly fall apart until his hair falls back against his shoulders, but you don’t seem to mind.

“I mean… I don’t want this to be the last time I braid your hair or make you watch my movie recommendations with me. You’re important to me, Bucky. You know that, right?”

Your confession shoots straight to his heart, and Bucky finds himself harshly swallowing down the butterflies that begin to flutter obnoxiously in his stomach. You’ll never how much your words mean to him or how badly he wants to profess that he would go to the ends of the earth to keep you safe. You are everything to him, but he doesn’t dare tell you this.

Instead, Bucky gently gives your calf a squeeze and lets his flesh hand rest upon your ankle.

“I know.”

You smile faintly and resume braiding his hair. You know Bucky isn’t one to be mushy or overly affectionate, so you don’t push the conversation any longer. You’re happy to sit in the quiet of your room away from the others, to enjoy this moment of peace before being thrust into chaos, and you know he feels the same.

“After this, do you want to watch a movie? I think it’s time you finally experience Napoleon Dynamite.”

“If it’ll keep you from bugging me about it for the next few weeks then yes,” Bucky responds sarcastically despite the grin that desperately fights to play itself upon his lips.

He knows you both should be getting to bed early for a night of rest, but he can’t find it in himself to protest.

Whatever it takes to make you happy.

~~~

You throw yourself back against the side of an abandoned car and fumble through your pack for another round of ammunition while Bucky covers your flank. You have no idea where the rest of the team is, but you hope they’re fairing better than the two of you are right now.

You’d been sent to rescue a group of hostages from a human trafficking ring intending to supply unwilling test subjects to scientists for illegal human experimentation. Corrupt people around the world would pay a fortune for their own genetically engineered super hero, and you were here to stop that from happening. You and Bucky were assigned to assist in the evacuation efforts, transporting people to a secondary location where a rescue team would later arrive to deliver them to a hospital. Though you’d been able to clear the area, you’d been ambushed by a group of soldiers and forced to take cover.

“Would you kill me if I told you I grabbed the wrong bag?” You implore guiltily after coming up empty handed. Your pack was full of medical supplies and rations, but not a single ounce of ammo could be found.

“I think these guys would probably get to you first before I could anyway,” Bucky replies humorlessly while ducking down to reload his gun. He’s running out of clips and you both know it.

Groaning, you let your head fall back against the car and pinch your eyes shut as you try to think of a new plan.

“I might have something, but you’re not going to like it.”

“Anything is better than dying,” he grits through his teeth as a bullet pierces the tire next to him. He watches as you reach into your bag and produce a speciality made grenade. Bucky’s eyes widen in disbelief when he looks from the bomb then to you. “Where the hell did you get that?!”

“I might have swiped it from Tony’s work desk,” you offer with a sheepish shrug before cautiously handing it over to him. “I thought it looked cool, but I have no idea if it works. It could at least buy us some time to make an escape if it doesn’t manage to blow us up first.”

“We’ll just have to test our luck,” Bucky says before turning to you with a serious look on his face. His tone of voice is more stern now, signaling for you to fall in line and heed his every word without question. You sometimes forget he was once a Sargent, but you can see now why people had an easy time trusting him as a leader. You never doubted Bucky’s ability to keep you safe, and this time was no different. “I’m going to pull the pin, and I need you to get down on the ground as soon as possible. I’m going to throw it, and then I’m going to cover you. Do you understand?”

“But what if you-“

“Y/n,” Bucky says sternly, his tone leaving no room for argument. You nod in reluctance and follow his orders as he pulls the pin. Bucky uses all of his strength to launch it across the way at your attackers before immediately dropping down to the ground and draping his body over yours. Curled into a ball, you let him pull you against his chest and shield your head with his metal arm to prevent you from getting hit with any shrapnel.

You can feel the rapid beating of his heart against your cheek as the ground rumbles beneath you from the blast. Your eyes squeeze shut while your hand grips tightly onto his leather vest for support, and you can feel Bucky tighten his hold on you in response. A beat passes before your surroundings still, and you slowly pry your eyes open just as he pulls himself away to look down at you.

“You okay?” He murmurs breathlessly, still coming down from his adrenaline rush. His wide pupils starkly contrast the blue of his irises, and you find yourself getting caught up in his stare as you swallow down your nerves.

“Fine,” you manage to get out. He looks down at you with uncertainty as you slowly reach out and brush his hair back from his face. “You have a cut on your forehead.”

“That’s okay,” he assures you with a faint smile before reluctantly pulling himself off of you and sitting back on his knees. He misses the closeness, but he knows you can’t afford to waste any time right now. The gunfire has stopped and your window to escape will only be open for a short time before the gunmen recover. “Can you run?”

You offer him a single nod before quickly scrambling onto your feet and booking it into the cover of the woods towards the secondary location where the rescued civilians should be waiting for you both. To your luck, the grenade had managed to help you clear a path to escape without disintegrating you both in the process. You run until your legs ache and your lungs burn, until Bucky is sure they aren’t coming after you, and you finally let yourself collapse against a tree to catch your breath.

“I need to start stealing from Tony more often,” you joke despite being out of breath, getting a rare laugh out of Bucky.

“Yeah, thanks to your sticky fingers we’re alive.”

“Why did you do that?” You ask suddenly, eyes meeting Bucky’s with uncertainty as you rest your hands on your knees.

“Do what?”

“Make yourself a human shield for me. You could have been hurt worse than just a cut on the forehead.”

Bucky sighs, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as he tries to come up with an answer that doesn’t reveal his unwavering love for you. You look to him expectantly as he moves towards you and rests a firm hand on your shoulder.

“It’s like you said,” he explains with a faint smile, “I didn’t want that to be the last time I let you braid my hair or force me into watching a movie with you.”

You stare up at him in quiet surprise and watch as he begins to make his way towards the secondary location. You hadn’t been expecting that, not even sure he’d remember your conversation from the night before, but here you were being proven wrong. You feel your heart flutter in your chest with longing but quickly shake the feeling away. You and Bucky are friends, always have been, and there’s no way he felt anything but platonic admiration for you as a teammate and confidant. Otherwise, wouldn’t he have made a move already? Besides, for all you knew Bucky didn’t do relationships, and you knew better than to push that boundary.

The rest of the team arrives an hour later, battered and bruised from a grueling fight against the leaders of the trafficking ring. The mission was a success, and now all that was left to do was wait for the rescue team to arrive for the civilians now that the area was cleared as safe.

Bucky keeps to himself while the others rest and chat amongst themselves to pass the time. Leaned against a tree with his arms crossed firmly over his chest, he watches on warmly as you sit crouched a few fit away with a handful of children around you. Your smile is kind and your voice full of light as you keep them entertained while waiting for the medics to arrive, handing out the stickers you keep in your pack for moments like these. They don’t have parents or an adult to cling to for reassurance, so you’ve taken it upon yourself be that comfort for them. Natasha always says you tend to get too attached to civilians you’ll never see again, but you don’t seem to care in the slightest.

“You love her,” Sam’s voice sounds from beside Bucky, startling him out of his moment of peace. It takes him a moment to regain composure, but he’s still quick to put on a hard front for the Falcon.

“Of course I do,” he attempts to brush off, “she’s my teammate.”

“I’m your teammate and you never look at me like that,” Sam quips with a raised brow much to the soldier’s chagrin.

“Whatever you’re trying to say just say it,” Bucky huffs vexedly.

“You’ve been pining after that girl like a lost puppy ever since she joined the team and not once have you had the balls to do anything about it. Why do you insist on torturing yourself like this?”

“You really think someone like me deserves to be with someone like her?” Bucky scoffs in disbelief, clearly believing such a notion to be impossible and outlandish. “I’ve done terrible, awful things. I’ve destroyed relationships and families, so why should I get to have one of my own?”

“That’s not who you are anymore,” Sam attempts to assuage him in vein. “That wasn’t you in the first place. That was Hydra, and you’re not under their control anymore.”

“When I think about what I’ve done- the blood on my hands… how could I dare taint her with my touch? Y/n deserves a good man with his head screwed on right, and that’s not me.”

“You’re wrong,” Sam avows solemnly, “and the sooner you realize that the better.”

Bucky is left to stew with his inner turmoil when Sam departs to check on Natasha. He could never understand just how much Bucky loved you, how his chest ached with longing every time he was around you, how his feelings for you seemed to grow stronger every day without you noticing. He would do anything to keep you safe, even if it meant keeping you safe from himself.

“Bucky!” Your voice calls cheerfully from across the way, a stark contrast to his brooding demeanor. You wave him over with glee, and how can he deny you when you smile at him like that?

“What do you need?” He asks while crouching down beside you, the children reacting to his presence with muffled giggles and shy smiles.

“The kids and I were trying to figure out where to put their new stickers, and we thought maybe they might look nice on your metal arm,” you inform him with a hopeful gleam in your eyes. A huff of amusement falls past his nostrils in response, but he gifts you a single nod before fully seating himself down on the ground.

“I think you’re right,” he agrees to the children’s delight. They immediately gather around the soldier as he extends his arm out and allows them access to their desired canvas. The activity should be able to tide them over until the medics arrive within the next half hour, and Bucky doesn’t mind being their entertainment.

You meet his eyes and mouth a quiet thank you to the man, and it makes it all the more worth it to see you smile at him.

~~~

Bucky lays in bed with his hands folded neatly on his stomach and his eyes focused on the ceiling as he decompresses from the grueling mission. His sore muscles remain tense despite being back at the tower, and a dull ache persists from the gash on his forehead. He wants nothing more than to fall into a dreamless sleep, but rest evades him. Today’s mission had hit particularly close to home for him, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the faces of the people he’d saved.

They had almost ended up like him.

A knock on the door saves him from the suffocation of his mental turmoil. He gets out of bed with a groan and pads over to his door only to find you waiting on the other side once it’s opened.

Equipped with a blanket in one hand and a pillow in the other, you look up at the man innocently and ask, “Can I crash here tonight?”

“What’s wrong with your own room?” Bucky asks with a skeptically raised eyebrow.

“It’s too quiet in there.”

Nodding in understanding, Bucky opens the door wider and allows you to take refuge in his room. You immediately make yourself comfortable in his bed, choosing to set your things up on the side closest to the wall while still leaving enough room for the super soldier. Once you’re still, he climbs back into bed and lies stiffly beside you, ensuring all of his limbs are kept to himself.

“I can’t stop thinking about those kids,” you voice your thoughts aloud, shifting onto your side to face him.

“We did our job,” Bucky reminds you gently. “We got them out before they could be sold off for human experimentation, and now they have a chance at freedom.”

“I know, I know,” you relent with a quiet sigh. “It’s just… we never get to know what happens to them after. I know we’re supposed to detach and not get too close to civilians during missions like these, but I can’t sleep not knowing if they were returned to their families or if they even had a family to go back to. I can’t deal with the not knowing.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with caring,” he assures you with a careful smile. “You’re the most empathetic person I know, and it’s one of the things I adore about you, but you have to trust that those kids are going to be okay. If anything, you probably helped them smile for the first time since they were captured. That’s a win.”

You smile faintly and offer him a quiet nod in agreement. He has a point, and it alleviates some of the guilt you’ve been carrying since getting on the quinjet and leaving them behind in the care of the rescue team.

“Do you ever think about having any?” You prompt suddenly, clearly taking Bucky off guard.

“Any what?”

“Kids,” you state plainly. The question causes him to shift uncomfortably beside you, and it takes him a moment to gather his thoughts before he can find his answer.

“During the war, I’d see the other soldiers get letters from their wives or hear them share stories about the babies waiting for them at home, and I wanted that,” Bucky admits quietly while absently fidgeting with his fingers. “I told myself once it ended I’d finally try to settle down and start a family of my own.”

The thought brings up unpleasant memories of a distant past and a longing ache for what could have been if things had turned out differently for him. He tries not to let this show, but you know him well enough to see the turmoil brewing within his troubled blue eyes.

“What about now?” you press quietly, almost afraid to rupture the stillness of the room by raising your voice any higher.

“It’s not completely out of the question,” he professes truthfully in spite of his obvious discomfort at speaking so vulnerably. “I don’t know if I’d be a good dad, or if I could even be a good partner after everything I’ve been through, but for the right person I would try.”

He wants to tell you that the right person is you, that he’d get down on one knee and give you a hundred kids if you asked him, but he holds his tongue and instead keeps his gaze firmly planted to the ceiling. It would be too much too soon, and he didn’t want to risk scaring away the only woman he’d ever truly loved. The dream of family and stability would always be out of reach so long as you remained platonic in your feelings towards him, but he was okay with that. He’d rather have you as a friend than not have you at all, even if it meant you might someday fall in love with someone else.

“Do… you ever think about it?” Bucky asks to break the silence and shift some of the focus off of himself.

“All the time,” you whisper with a dreamy smile. “I know our line of work isn’t the most conducive for family planning or stability, but one day I’d like to follow in Clint’s footsteps and retire so I can live a life of my own. Maybe get a cottage somewhere quiet and grow old with the perfect partner if I ever find one.”

“Seems like that’s always the missing piece,” Bucky huffs humorlessly, heartstrings tugging at the wistful look clear in your eyes when you shift your gaze back towards him.

“Yeah, perfect partners are scarce for people like us,” you hum dolefully. “But I came to close to it once."

“What?” He breathes out tensely, heart immediately dropping to his stomach at your proclamation. A sense of dread overcomes him despite his best efforts to push the feeling down, and it takes all of his efforts to keep his reaction neutral in spite of the anguish he feels at hearing you confess your heart is set on another.

“I found a man I thought I could build a future with, but I don’t think he’s the relationship type. He never gave me any signs that he was interested, and after a while I realized it wasn’t going to happen.”

“Who was it?” Bucky asks, though he’s not sure he wants to know the answer.

“Someone you know,” you answer vaguely, now avoiding his scrutinizing gaze. The pit of dread in his stomach only grows, and he isn’t sure he can handle knowing who the mystery person is.

An awful thought dawns upon him then, and he blurts it out before he can stop himself. “Is it Steve?”

A pregnant pause hovers over you both as Bucky’s words sink in, your silence unnerving him to no end. However, the quiet is immediately broken when you burst into laughter that you unsuccessfully try to muffle with your hand.

“Steve?” You retort incredulously. A deep frown settles across Bucky’s features and he’s immediately defensive.

“What’s so funny?” He prompts. It isn’t so ridiculous to believe your heart could belong to Captain America of all people, and he’s not sure why you’re not taking it seriously.

“You think Steve is the guy? The same Steve that watches I Love Lucy reruns with me and puts extra vegetables on my plate at dinner?”

“Well if not Steve then who?”

“You, Bucky,” you finally blurt with a nervous laugh. His defenses immediately go down while his brain goes into overdrive to process your confession, and your features slowly lose the humor in them as they become more serious. With a sheepish smile, you turn away and reaffirm, “you’re the guy.”

“I’m- you mean me?” He repeats again like he can’t believe what he’s hearing, and he doesn’t. Surely he must have misheard you, or maybe you misspoke.

“Yes, you,” you reiterate in exasperation, clearly embarrassed at having revealed your feelings for your closest friend. “I thought it was obvious. Why else do you think I come into your room like this or spend all of my free time hanging out with you?”

“I thought it was because you saw me as a friend the way you do everyone else.”

“Oh, boy,” you breathe out before sitting yourself up from the bed. “Clearly I shouldn’t have said anything so I’m just going to go back to my own room now-“

“No, wait,” Bucky protests, quickly sitting up and resting a hand on your shoulder to keep you in place. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… it’s kind of hard to believe the woman I’ve been in love with for ages actually feels the same.”

“Wait… you love me?” You repeat softly, hand coming to cover your mouth in quiet shock as you look to him for any sign of insincerity. Instead, you find his blue eyes looking down at you with tender adoration while his lips curl into a careful smile.

“Always have,” he replies gently.

“But you never seemed like the relationship type of guy. You’re always so broody and closed off I figured you like being alone.”

“I’d be any type of guy for you,” Bucky avows while lovingly brushing his metal fingers across your cheek. “You’re everything to me, and I would gladly spend the rest of my life with you if you gave me the chance.”

“Oh, Bucky,” you coo gently, eyes beginning to well with tears as you happily throw your arms around him in a bone crushing embrace. “I can’t believe you, why didn’t you ever tell me?! I love you!”

Bucky wraps his flesh arm around your waist while his metal hand tenderly cradles your head. He laughs off your scolding and presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, heart nearly leaping out of his chest from the euphoria he feels at finally being able to tell you the truth. He never once thought this could be possible for him, but having you here in his arms just felt right, like this was the way things were always supposed to be.

“I love you, y/n,” Bucky professes gently, prompting you to pull yourself from the hug to meet his loving gaze. Impulsively, you smash your lips onto his own in a searing kiss, and Bucky is quick to match your pace by pulling you fully into his lap as he melts into your touch. All inhibitions are thrown out the window, and in that moment the only thing Bucky cares to think about is the feel of your lips on his own while your fingers curl into his hair. If he knew it would be like this, he would have confessed a lot sooner.

But you have forever to make up for lost time, and Bucky is okay with that if it means spending the rest of his life being your perfect partner.

[cbeargyu]

fOoL fOr YoU

beomgyu’s been in love with you since you were kids — even when you had your heart set on someone else. but he's just a fool for you.

pairing: childhood friend(?)!beomgyu x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, childhood friends to lovers, one-sided love (but no really), high school au-uni au, unspoken feelings, first love energy, beomgyu simp, slow burn (slooow fr), second chances in soft light, beomgyu soft guy, fool for you by zayn = emotional backbone.

warnings: emotional angst, mention of unrequited love, a stolen kiss (consensual vibes unclear, followed by regret and confrontation), light jealousy, childhood heartbreak, healing arc included, soft cry-potential.

w/c: 7,2k

notes: hi!! thank you for reading this story, it means the world ♡ english isn’t my first language, so i hope you can forgive any grammar mistakes or weird phrasing — i’m still learning! i just wanted to share a soft, emotional story about loving someone for a long time… and being brave enough to tell them.

you met choi beomgyu when you were six.

he had braces and messy hair, and the loudest voice in the classroom. you were the quietest one in the back row, always too shy to speak, too nervous to raise your hand. but he found his way to you on the second day of school, sat beside you, and never left after that.

“you don’t have to talk,” he once whispered, sliding his lunch tray next to yours. “i’ll talk for both of us.”

and he did. for years.

you were always beside him—his little shadow. he dragged you into games, made excuses for your silences, defended you when someone called you weird. he was everything you weren’t: vibrant, chaotic, fearless. and in his whirlwind, you found a kind of safety. it was easier not to speak when someone was already speaking for you.

sometimes he even called you “my mini manager” because you always carried tissues, band-aids, or whatever he forgot to bring. and sometimes you called him “too much” when he danced in the rain or shouted your name across the hallway just to see you roll your eyes.

you didn't know when he fell in love with you.

maybe it was the day you held his hand after he scraped his knee, or the time you cried during a school play and he wiped your tears with his sleeve. maybe it was the time you laughed—really laughed—until your shoulders shook and your eyes disappeared into your cheeks, and he thought you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

he loved you in silence. he loved you in your quietest days, in your loudest ones. and he loved you when you started to pull away.

because that’s what happened, right?

somewhere between growing up and growing apart, you changed. you stopped waiting for him after class. you stopped answering his messages as quickly. you stopped sitting next to him during lunch.

you started focusing on your grades, on your future, on building a world where you didn’t need anyone to speak for you. not even him.

and beomgyu... he didn’t know how to follow you there.

you never told him why. you just slipped away—slowly, gently, but completely. and he didn’t stop you. he couldn’t.

he tried forgetting you. dated girls who laughed too loud, girls who wore your perfume, girls who were nothing like you and everything like you. he smiled in their selfies, whispered things in their ears, but none of it mattered.

because none of them were you.

"this love is tainted... but i need you..." he’d play that line on repeat in his room at night. headphones on. lights off. a lump in his throat he couldn’t swallow.

"i’d move the earth, but only if you’d promise me you’re mine..."

he would’ve given you everything. but you were already gone.

and you? maybe you felt it. that quiet ache between you. that tension in the hallway when your eyes met. maybe there was a flicker of something, once. or maybe you just never looked back.

but for beomgyu, you were still the same girl who once held his hand and promised to sit beside him forever.

and no matter how many girls kissed him, no matter how wide he smiled— you were the only one he saw.

you were sixteen now.

last year of high school.

supposedly the year to collect memories, make decisions, fall in love... but you had done none of those things.

not that you cared.

you sighed when you saw kang taehyun—he looked handsome even when he was lost staring out the window. his foot tapped nervously on the floor, and just then, your eyes met. blood rushed to your cheeks and you quickly bowed, but almost tripped forward in the process. taehyun blinked in surprise at the sudden movement but didn’t say a word. he didn’t even flinch.

behind you, you heard choi beomgyu’s distinct laugh. of course, he was laughing at you. you clenched your fists in irritation.

beomgyu smirked arrogantly and walked into the classroom where taehyun was. you muttered a few curses under your breath, just loud enough for beomgyu to catch them. he laughed even louder, clearly amused. nothing in the world seemed to bother him—sometimes you wondered how you’d managed to put up with him all these years. after all, you’d known him since elementary school.

you had always been close. then, halfway through your second year, kang taehyun transferred into your lives—a shy boy with a soft voice and eyes that avoided yours. beomgyu was the first to speak to him, naturally. but the first time you saw taehyun, something clicked. your heart stuttered. since that moment, he became your silent crush.

unfortunately, your quiet nature, paired with taehyun’s shy behavior around girls, meant you never had the chance to get close to him the way beomgyu did. you often wondered how beomgyu made friends so easily, how he seemed to shine in every room, while you barely had anyone in your own class.

“lee y/n, someone’s looking for you!” called na jaemin from the doorway, one of your classmates. you turned your head instinctively—and there stood your older brother, lee juyeon.

“you forgot your breakfast. again,” he scolded softly, handing you a paper bag. you scratched the back of your head and looked up at him.

“mom worries about you, you know that, right? don’t make her sad, okay?” you nodded, feeling a little embarrassed.

“yo, juyeon!” beomgyu’s voice—forever annoying to your ears—rang out. he slapped your shoulder and bumped fists with your brother. “did y/nnie forget her breakfast again?” he asked, pouting in mock concern. juyeon chuckled, but you rolled your eyes.

“hey, beomgyu. yeah, she did,” juyeon laughed, then waved goodbye to both of you and walked off. you harshly brushed beomgyu’s hand off your shoulder and walked down the hallway without a word.

“free period’s almost over,” he reminded you, still standing where you’d left him.

“fine,” you replied flatly, not even glancing at him.

“fine,” he repeated in a teasing tone, falling into step beside you.

“don’t follow me, choi. i’m going to the bathroom.” you shot him a cold look, but he only shrugged and kept walking beside you anyway.

once you reached the restroom, you didn’t ask him to wait or say anything—you just walked in and disappeared behind the door.

you sighed deeply, overwhelmed. how long were you going to keep lying to yourself? maybe... maybe it was time to ask beomgyu to help you get closer to taehyun. but you just didn’t have the courage. you were sure he knew about your feelings. and yet... he’d never said anything.

at least you were good at hiding them. nobody ever teased you about it.

“beomgyu! say hi to taehyun from jinri!” a girl’s voice rang out from outside the restroom, and you froze in place in front of the mirror.

“oh, i will!” beomgyu laughed.

“hyejong, don’t yell!” another girl’s high-pitched voice joined in.

“why not? aren’t you happy you’re finally dating him?” your heart sank. you barely whispered an ‘oh’ and felt a sudden hollowness in your stomach. a lump formed in your throat.

so this is what heartbreak felt like. but why hadn’t you noticed it before? since when had taehyun been seeing someone? and who was that girl?

“you two are so shy, it’s adorable,” one of them giggled as beomgyu pinched her cheeks. “i hope you guys last long, you look so cute together.” you heard their footsteps fade. and suddenly... you felt betrayed. was she really better for him than you?

you stepped out of the restroom at last, your expression unreadable. beomgyu had just put his phone away and looked like he was about to say something, but you cut him off with a low, shaky voice.

“since when has taehyun been dating that girl?”

beomgyu paused, caught off guard by your question. he stayed silent for a moment. he knew. he knew how you felt. but taehyun... he didn’t feel the same.

a week had passed since you found out about taehyun’s relationship with jinri. the confirmation hit harder than the whispers ever did. unlike you, jinri was everything soft and easy to love—pretty in that gentle, unthreatening way, always smiling, always speaking just enough. she was younger, too. of course she was.

you hadn’t said a word about it to anyone. not to your classmates, not to your brother, and definitely not to beomgyu. you just... let it settle. like a bitter taste at the back of your throat you couldn’t spit out.

across the schoolyard, beomgyu watched you from his classroom window.

you looked so small, sitting alone on that bench, arms crossed tightly, face blank. but he knew you. he knew that blank look meant you were swallowing too much. the same way you always had—quiet and distant, like your silence would protect you from the ache in your chest.

he clenched his jaw. maybe taehyun never noticed you. maybe jinri had the smile and the laugh and the shine. but beomgyu had been there since your scraped knees and clumsy braids. he had loved you through all your seasons. and it still wasn’t enough.

"i'd move across the world for you," he thought bitterly. "but you wouldn’t even look sideways for me."

he tried—he tried so hard to play it cool, to let you come to him, to make you laugh again. but he was growing tired of being invisible in your world. a fool for you. always had been.

and yet, the part of him that still hoped—that still remembered the way you clung to him when you were little, how you used to hide behind his back when you were scared—wanted to scream. wanted to shake you out of that self-imposed exile and say, i’m here. it’s me. it’s always been me.

he exhaled sharply, the sound sharp in the silence of the classroom. you hadn’t moved from that bench, hadn’t even looked at the time. he narrowed his eyes. if he didn’t say something, you were definitely going to miss class.

he opened the window, not caring that the hallway was full of students now.

“yah, lee y/n! class is starting! don’t even think about skipping, i’m not waiting outside detention with you again!”

heads turned. yours included. your eyes widened in horror, and your face lit up red with embarrassment. you stood up immediately, shooting him a murderous glare that only made him smirk wider.

“mind your own business, choi!” you hissed, storming off toward the building. of course. he always pushed the wrong buttons. always said the wrong thing. always, somehow, made it worse.

he winced when you disappeared from view.

smooth, idiot.

you, meanwhile, were fuming. he always did this. always found a way to tear into your fragile calm and leave you feeling raw and exposed. you were already trying so hard not to spiral after hearing about taehyun and jinri. and now, choi—no, beomgyu—had to go and humiliate you like that?

your steps were fast and sharp on the tile. you could still feel the sting of people’s stares, the heat of shame crawling up your neck.

he knew. he knew you had feelings for taehyun. and he never said a damn word. never warned you. never tried to protect you from the fall.

the ache settled back into your ribs, heavier now. you didn’t cry—but you wanted to.

by the time you stepped into the classroom, mr. lim was walking in too. and of course, beomgyu was already seated, watching you with that stupid half-smile like he hadn’t just ruined your morning.

you avoided his eyes. didn’t even look his way. but beomgyu’s smile faltered.

because even if you ignored him—he’d still only ever have eyes for you.

you glanced sideways at your companion and let out an irritated huff.

"i told you i was going to walk you home, whether you like it or not," he said, half-laughing, half-serious. his sarcasm only stirred your frustration.

"i never asked for your company, choi," you snapped, clenching your fists. but something in his eyes made you falter—dark, intense, unreadable. you looked away and mumbled, "you can turn around and go home."

you pulled the red scarf tighter around your neck, trying to hide the warmth creeping up your face.

beomgyu didn’t answer. he simply stepped closer, close enough that you had to look up.

“y/n,” he called.

“hmph,” you answered, dryly.

"do you still feel something for taehyun?"

your breath caught in your throat. what the hell was he saying? why now?

“w-why do you care?” you muttered, barely audible, your voice trembling.

your cheeks burned, and you tried to cover them with your sleeve, avoiding his gaze, but his eyes were too much—sharp, searching, like he could see straight through you.

“no…” you whispered. It was a lie, and a poor one. the truth was still tangled up inside of you. that flicker of hope hadn’t quite died out, and it made you feel pathetic.

beomgyu chuckled softly and lowered his head. you caught a glimpse of his smile, and for some reason, it made you uneasy.

“what’s so funny, idiot—?”

“that you still haven’t realized how i feel about you.”

the world went silent.

your heart felt like it stopped mid-beat. you blinked, trying to process what he had just said. no, it had to be your imagination.

he didn’t just—

“i’ve waited so long to say this. it hurts watching you break for someone else, when i’d give you everything,” he said, voice rising, hands trembling slightly as he placed them on your shoulders. “I wouldn’t hurt you, y/n. i’d hold all your broken pieces if you let me. i just don’t get it—why can’t you see me?”

your mouth opened, but nothing came out. he looked at you like he was falling apart in front of you. and you? you were frozen. paralyzed by fear, by shock, by the weight of what he just confessed.

and then—he kissed you.

his hands wrapped around your back, pulling you into him. his lips were warm, desperate, trembling like his heart had been waiting for this moment for years. you didn’t know what was happening until it was already happening. your stomach flipped violently. your skin crawled.

the contact was strange, as if the kiss wasn’t coming from the person you thought you knew. beomgyu, your friend, your companion for life, who had always been there… now he was kissing you without warning, without any preamble, as if everything you shared until that moment meant nothing more to him. without thinking, you tried to pull away. at first, it wasn’t just the physical struggle—there was confusion, disorientation. you wanted to reject it, but his hold on you felt too firm.

you shook your head, trying to push away, but he was stronger—too strong—and the kiss kept going, too long, too sudden. too much.

you slapped him.

hard.

it was the only way to get him off, to create a boundary that was never supposed to be crossed.

it echoed in the stillness.

he stumbled back slightly, one hand on his cheek, eyes wide—not from the pain, but from the heartbreak.

your own hands trembled. you looked at him with wet eyes, unsure when exactly the tears had started falling.

"why… why would you do that?" you whispered, your voice broken, fragile.

he stumbled back, his eyes wide, his breathing ragged as he stared at you. but the pain wasn’t just in his gaze; it was in your chest too. you were shaking, not sure what was worse: the fact that your body had reacted to him at all, or the betrayal that this moment felt like. he knew you were in love with taehyun, and yet, he kissed you anyway. you felt small. you felt exposed. it wasn’t just about the kiss—it was everything that came with it. the confusion. the vulnerability. the fear that your friendship had been nothing but a disguise for something much more painful and unspoken.

beomgyu didn’t respond right away. he just looked at you. his breathing was uneven, lips parted. then, in a voice that cracked in the middle:

"because i’m a fool for you. a damn fool for all the things you do.”

your chest tightened.

this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. you didn’t know what you felt, you couldn’t understand anything—not his words, not his kiss, not your own tears. the glass wall you’d built around your heart, the one you’d spent years reinforcing, was beginning to shatter—and that terrified you more than anything.

because maybe, just maybe… you weren’t as indifferent as you pretended to be.

but right now, all you could do was cry.

in the following days, you withdrew into yourself. it wasn’t just the kiss that haunted you—it was everything that came after it. the uncertainty, the disarray of emotions, and the feeling of being exposed in a way you never had before. you tried to bury yourself in your studies, bury yourself in any distraction that would keep your mind off what had happened. you couldn’t even look at beomgyu without feeling an uncomfortable twist in your stomach. it was as though the world had tilted in a direction you hadn’t been prepared for, and now you couldn’t figure out how to get back to where you were before.

beomgyu, on the other hand, seemed to be in a constant battle with himself. he tried to reach out to you, to apologize, but each time you saw him, the weight of what he had done was too much for you to bear. he wanted to explain himself, to tell you it wasn’t meant to hurt you, but the guilt was eating away at him. his usual confidence, the one that made him so easy to talk to, had been replaced with an anxious, almost desperate energy.

one afternoon, as you sat alone in the library, you felt the familiar presence of beomgyu standing behind you. you could tell he had been following you for a while, hoping to catch your attention. you didn’t look up immediately, not wanting to face the reality of his gaze on you.

“y/n…” his voice was quieter than usual, carrying a softness that you weren’t accustomed to. “i need to talk to you.”

you didn’t respond, pretending to focus on the book in front of you. the silence stretched between you, thick and uncomfortable.

“i’m sorry,” he continued, his voice laced with regret. “i don’t even know what i was thinking… i never meant to make you feel that way. i just—”

“stop.” you finally looked up, locking eyes with him. the expression on his face made your heart ache, but you couldn’t allow yourself to feel sorry for him. “why did you do it? why did you kiss me, knowing… knowing how I feel about taehyun?” your voice cracked slightly, betraying the vulnerability you had been trying so hard to suppress. “why did you make me feel like i don’t even know who you are anymore?”

beomgyu’s face contorted with pain. “i—” he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i’m so sorry, y/n. i’m a fool. i knew how you felt about taehyun, but… i just couldn’t help it. i’ve been carrying these feelings for so long, and when i saw you with him… i felt like i couldn’t hold back anymore. i thought… maybe, if i kissed you, things would change. that you’d finally see me. but now, i realize… i’ve only made everything worse.”

his words hit you like a punch to the stomach. the ache in your chest deepened, but it wasn’t just the pain of the kiss. it was the weight of everything that had been left unsaid, all the years of unspoken feelings, and now it was spilling out in a mess of confusion and regret.

you stood up abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor as you walked away from him. you couldn’t stay there any longer. his presence, so close, was making it harder to breathe.

“i don’t know what you want from me, beomgyu,” you said, your voice trembling. “but i don’t know if i can forgive you for this. not yet.”

beomgyu didn’t move. he watched you walk away, his face contorted in pain. but deep down, he knew that the kiss—no matter how much it had meant to him—had been a mistake. and now, the distance between you felt like an insurmountable wall. he had ruined it all, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

as you disappeared from his sight, beomgyu slumped against the table, his heart heavy with guilt. “i’m such a fool,” he whispered to himself, knowing there was no easy way out of this mess he had created. the worst part wasn’t the rejection—it was realizing that he had lost you, and he couldn’t undo the damage. the realization that the kiss, that stolen moment, was the start of something he wasn’t sure he could repair.

and you, as you walked away, couldn’t escape the memory of the kiss either. it was your first kiss, yes, but it was so wrong, so stolen, that the idea of it left you reeling. you had never expected something like that from him—your friend, the one who had always been there, the one you had trusted more than anyone else. and yet, here he was, breaking that trust with something impulsive and unthoughtful.

but still, despite your confusion, your heart raced every time you thought about it, the warmth of the kiss still lingering on your lips. and that, more than anything, scared you.

you sat at your desk, half-focused on the homework spread out in front of you. the room was quiet except for the faint scratching of your pen and the occasional sound of cars passing outside your window. your mind kept drifting back to the kiss, to beomgyu’s face when you walked away, to the way his voice cracked when he said your name. no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t push it all out.

you didn’t even hear the door open.

“yo,” juyeon said casually as he stepped inside, holding a small stack of old manga volumes in his hands. “found these in the garage. they’re yours, right?”

you blinked and looked up. “uh… yeah,” you said, recognizing the familiar covers. they were pastel-colored, all romance manga you’d devoured in middle school—full of blushing confessions, accidental kisses, and dramatic love triangles. you had forgotten they even existed.

he placed them on your desk, flipping one open as he sat on the edge of your bed. “beomgyu lent you these, didn’t he?”

you nodded slowly. “a long time ago…”

juyeon hummed, flipping through the pages with vague interest. something thin fluttered out from between the pages and drifted to the floor. both of you watched it land.

it was a folded piece of lined notebook paper, yellowed at the edges.

he picked it up before you could react. “what’s this?” he asked, already unfolding it.

“wait, juyeon—” you reached out, but he had already begun reading. his eyes scanned the page, then his eyebrows lifted. a low whistle left his mouth.

“wow. this punk really had it bad for you.”

you felt your heart stop. “what are you talking about?”

he grinned, holding up the letter dramatically. “this is the most cringe, over-the-top, middle-school love confession i’ve ever seen. do you want me to read it out loud or—”

“no!”

he chuckled and handed it to you. you hesitated before taking it, then looked down at the handwriting you immediately recognized.

dear y/n,

i know this is really lame but i wanted to write it down because i get nervous around you and my brain forgets words when you’re looking at me. i think i’ve liked you since the first grade. you never talked much, but i always noticed you. you’d sit alone during recess with your books, and i always wanted to sit next to you… i thought, “she’s the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.”

i like everything about you. the way you tie your shoes weird, the way you always read manga under your desk during math, even when you get mad at me for not finishing group projects. i don’t know if you’ll ever like me back, maybe you’ll think i’m weird, or annoying. but it’s okay. i just wanted to tell you. you make my chest feel warm.

please don’t hate me.

sincerely, beomgyu

you stared at the letter, your fingers tightening slightly as you held it. something in your chest shifted. it wasn’t just what the letter said—it was the fact that he’d written it. that he’d felt that way for so long. and you never knew. or maybe you did, and you just never let yourself see it.

“he’s been following you around since you were like six” juyeon said with a shake of his head. “remember when he showed up to your piano recital with a bouquet of dandelions? or when he joined your library club even though he hates reading?”

you did remember. and more kept coming to you. the way beomgyu would wait for you after class, even when his friends left. how he’d always give you the last snack in his lunchbox. how he’d look away quickly when you caught him staring.

you looked down at the letter again, your heart beating unevenly.

“he’s always been like a little puppy, wagging his tail just to get a smile from you, always looking at you with that goofy grin like you hung the moon. i’m pretty sure this kid’s been in love with you for ages.” juyeon added, standing up and stretching. “anyway, you’re too young to have a boyfriend. so don’t get any ideas.”

the words hit you like a truck. your mind reeled. you thought back to all those moments with beomgyu—the small gestures, the times he’d gone out of his way just to make you laugh or cheer you up, the way his eyes would soften whenever he looked at you. you had always thought it was because he was your friend, because he cared. but now, seeing it all in this letter... hearing juyeon’s words... it made you realize that it was more than that. It had always been more.

you closed your eyes, trying to process the weight of what you were feeling. was it possible that beomgyu had been in love with you all this time? and if he had been, how could you have been so blind?

he left the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

you sat there in silence, the letter still in your hands. it felt like something had cracked open inside you, a dam holding back years of memories you’d brushed aside.

you leaned back in your chair, staring at the ceiling, trying to sort through the whirlwind of emotions that were suddenly flooding your mind. beomgyu had liked you for years. he had kept this hidden, carried it in silence all this time. but now, everything had changed. the kiss... his confession... it was all so sudden. so overwhelming.

you thought about beomgyu's voice. the way he said your name. how he looked at you like you were his whole world—even when you were ignoring him, even when you were in love with someone else.

you thought about the kiss again. how wrong it was. how confusing. but also… how fast your heart had been beating afterward. how your lips had tingled. how you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he held your face so gently, like you were something delicate he couldn’t believe he was touching.

you pressed your fingers to your lips, your breath catching in your throat.

your heart pounded in your chest. beomgyu had been a part of your life for as long as you could remember, and now, the weight of his feelings was crashing down on you. you felt so... confused. part of you was angry that he hadn’t said anything sooner, that he had kept it all inside. another part of you, though, felt a strange pull toward him—one you didn’t know how to understand or accept.

you ran a hand through your hair, your mind spinning.

could you ever look at him the same way again? was there a chance, even a small one, that you could feel the same way about him? or would this change everything between you two?

your emotions were all over the place. you hadn’t even realized how much you had come to depend on beomgyu—his presence in your life, the way he made everything seem easier. the thought of him being in love with you, all these years... It made your stomach twist, your heart ache in a way that was difficult to explain.

for now, though, you needed time. time to process everything, time to figure out how you truly felt, and time to understand what this all meant. but for the first time, you couldn’t deny that there was something deeper between you and beomgyu, something that had always been there, hidden just beneath the surface.

the spring air was soft that afternoon. petals floated lazily from the cherry trees scattered across the school courtyard, painting the sky in shades of pink and white. under one of them, you sat alone, your notebook resting forgotten on your lap, eyes lost in the distance.

the gentle crunch of footsteps over grass made you turn your head.

“hey,” beomgyu said quietly, his voice hesitant but kind. “mind if i sit?”

you gave a small nod, heart skipping a beat the moment he lowered himself beside you. neither of you spoke for a few seconds, letting the silence settle like dust on your skin. the breeze swept between you, carrying a whisper of unspoken things.

the silence stretched between you, filled only by birdsong and the rustling of leaves. your heart wouldn’t calm down. It hadn’t, not since that moment — your first kiss. stolen. wrong. but... your chest still fluttered every time you remembered it. no one had ever looked at you the way he did in that moment. no one had ever felt like that.

“i… i found the letter,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. offering the old note with a small, unsure smile.

beomgyu froze slightly beside you.

“in the manga you lent me,” you clarified. “it fell out when my brother opened one.”

his cheeks flushed instantly, the tips of his ears turning red. he looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. “wow. that’s… old.”

you smiled softly, despite everything. “you were thirteen.”

he groaned into his hands. “oh god, i was so lame back then.”

“it was sweet,” you said honestly. “kind of cheesy. a lot dramatic. but sweet.”

his eyes met yours — full of that soft, scared, vulnerable look he always gave you when his guard was down.

“i'm sorry,” he said suddenly. “for the kiss. for not asking. i shouldn’t have done that.”

you looked away, biting your lip. “i was shocked. and confused. I still am. but i don’t… hate that it happened.”

he blinked. “you don’t?”

you shook your head. “it was wrong… but it made me realize how much i never saw. how long you’ve felt like this. how many times you tried to show me, and i just… i never noticed.”

beomgyu took a shaky breath. his voice was softer now, more vulnerable than you’d ever heard.

“i’ve been in love with you since I was six,” he said, eyes on his hands. “back when you beat me at every single math test and made fun of my hair. i thought, ‘she’s so annoying’... and then i just wanted to be around you all the time. so I became annoying too, just so you'd keep looking at me.”

you laughed — gently, quietly, your cheeks warming. he smiled too.

“i used to count how many times you laughed in a day,” he continued, his voice trembling. “i memorized your schedule just so i could pass you in the hallway. every group project, i fought to be with you. i learned your coffee order. i even started watching that boring drama you liked just to talk about it with you.”

he chuckled to himself, glancing at you with the fondest eyes you’d ever seen.

“do you remember that time in middle school when i stayed outside in the rain because you forgot your umbrella and I wanted to walk you home?”

you nodded slowly.

“you told me it was stupid.”

“it was,” you replied, a smile tugging at your lips. “you caught a cold the next day.”

“still worth it.”

the wind picked up again, swirling a few petals around the two of you. one landed gently on your hair, and beomgyu reached over instinctively to brush it away. his hand lingered for a second longer than it needed to. your cheeks deepened in color.

“i know you don’t feel the same,” he whispered, his voice more serious now. “or maybe not yet. and that’s okay. i don’t need anything from you. just… having this moment, sitting here with you, getting to say all of this out loud—it’s enough. you make me feel like the dumbest person alive, y/n. but in the best way.”

you blinked, your throat suddenly tight.

“i’ve waited a long time to tell you,” he added. “and i'd wait again, even if it takes forever.”

you didn’t know what to say.

there were still so many thoughts swirling inside you—confusion, memories, flickers of warmth you hadn’t let yourself fully feel until now. but somehow, sitting there under the tree, next to beomgyu and the scent of spring in the air, it didn’t feel so scary. it felt... safe.

he smiled faintly. “being around you, even if i was annoying you or just carrying your bag or letting you copy my notes… that was the best part of my days. i think i’ve always kind of lived around you.”

you looked at him then, truly looked. his hair danced slightly with the breeze, and there was that same gentle, vulnerable expression you’d seen a few times before—once when he waited outside your house for hours in the rain just to walk you to school, once when he defended you during a class presentation when someone laughed at your pronunciation, once when he silently passed you his scarf because he noticed your hands were shaking from the cold.

“i didn’t mean to ignore how you felt,” you murmured. “and i’m sorry for not noticing. the letter… it was really beautiful. it made me feel something. i’m still figuring out what that is.”

he looked down, his voice quiet but full of everything. “i don’t expect you to feel the same. not now, maybe not ever. but… just being able to say it out loud—to tell you that you’ve always been the person i looked for in every room, every morning, every second—it makes me feel like i’m not hiding anymore. even if i still feel like a fool when you smile at me.”

you smiled then, small but real, and maybe a little breathless. your heart beat just a little louder in your chest, not in panic, but in something unfamiliar and warm.

“you’re not a fool,” you said softly. “not even close.”

he turned to you, hopeful, and for a second, time stilled. no confessions, no promises—just two hearts, slowly inching closer under a cherry tree, learning how to speak the same language.

later that night, you lay on your bed, staring at the ceiling as the pale moonlight poured through your window, casting long shadows across your room. your chest felt heavy, like it was full of fluttering things—tiny, delicate, impossible to catch.

you hadn’t been able to focus on anything since you got home. not homework, not music, not even the manga you used to love reading before bed.

his words played on a loop in your mind.

“you’ve always been the person i looked for in every room.”

you hugged your pillow tightly.

why did it feel like your heart was trying to tell you something, and you just weren’t ready to listen?

you remembered his voice, the nervous laugh he let out when he brought up cherry, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you—like you were something he didn’t believe he deserved to hold.

you didn’t know how long you stayed like that, frozen in your thoughts, until a sudden knock on your door pulled you back to reality.

“y/n,” juyeon peeked in, a plate of fruit in one hand and that familiar annoying-smile-slash-big-brother look on his face. “you’ve been super quiet. thought maybe you got possessed.”

you rolled your eyes. “thanks for the concern.”

he walked in anyway, setting the plate down beside you and sitting at the edge of the bed. “so… you and lover boy talked, huh?”

you blinked. “what?”

“beomgyu. don’t act clueless.” he chuckled. “he looked like a kicked puppy when he came to class earlier, and now he looks like a puppy that got a pat on the head.”

“we talked,” you admitted, voice low.

juyeon just smirked knowingly. “did you kiss again?”

“juyeon!” you threw a pillow at him, cheeks flaming.

he dodged it effortlessly, laughing. “okay okay, sorry! i’m just saying—if i didn’t know better, i’d think you’re starting to fall for him.”

you didn’t reply.

because maybe, just maybe… he wasn’t wrong.

when juyeon finally left, muttering something about “teenage romance being a disease,” you sat up and pulled open your drawer. you reached for that letter—the one from years ago, folded unevenly, still smelling faintly of pencil and dust.

"dear y/n, i don’t really know how to say this, so i’m writing it instead. i think you’re the prettiest girl in the whole school, maybe in the whole world. even when you’re mad at me or call me annoying. i like you. i’ve liked you since the day you shared your umbrella with me in sixth grade. i didn’t know someone could make my heart beat that fast. even if you don’t like me back, i just wanted you to know."

your fingertips brushed over the words.

you were so young back then. so was he. but the way he felt—those words—felt so pure it almost hurt.

and now, all these years later, his feelings hadn’t changed.

your heart clenched.

you didn’t know what to call this thing blooming inside you, but it felt like spring.

slow and delicate.

a new beginning.

then, you were twenty-four.

the late afternoon sun filtered through the large windows of the campus café, casting soft golden hues over the small table where beomgyu sat, one leg crossed over the other, hands lazily wrapped around a warm cup of tea. soobin sat across from him, his brows lifted in curiosity, and yeonjun was leaning forward, utterly hooked.

“so you’re telling me,” yeonjun said, incredulous, “you were in love with her since middle school?”

“since i was six,” beomgyu said with a nostalgic grin, his gaze distant, lips curling faintly as if the memory still made his heart flutter. “i wrote her a letter once. stuck it inside one of my old romance mangas i’d lent her. never told her about it. i figured she’d never find it.”

“but she did,” soobin said, connecting the dots. “and then what happened?”

beomgyu let out a breathy chuckle, fingers tapping absentmindedly on his cup. “then everything changed. slowly. painfully. beautifully.” he paused for a moment, a soft smile playing on his lips. “i think that was the first time she really saw me.”

“damn,” yeonjun muttered, shaking his head. “and you stayed friends all that time? with all those feelings?”

“we weren’t just friends,” beomgyu said cryptically, his eyes twinkling. “but we weren’t anything else, either. not for a while.”

beomgyu gave a small laugh, fingers combing through his hair as he stared up at the sky, a smile creeping in despite himself. “there was a time,” he added, voice softening, “when she was in love with my best friend. taehyun. i hated it. not because taehyun was a bad guy — he wasn’t. he was kind, steady... everything i wasn’t. but watching her cry over him, watching her choose him over and over without even realizing it... it broke me. one day, when she was hurting the most, i kissed her. not because she asked, not because she was ready — but because some stupid part of me thought it would fix everything. that maybe, if she felt what i felt, she’d finally see me.” he paused, swallowing hard. “but all it did was push her further away.”

both soobin and yeonjun were quiet for a moment. the weight of the story settled between them like the end of a song. soobin looked over with a new kind of softness in his eyes. “but you’re still talking about her like she’s everything.” said soobin.

“she is,” beomgyu said, without missing a beat. “she always has been.”

“you’re killing me, man,” yeonjun laughed. “what happened next? did she ever feel the same?”

before beomgyu could answer, a soft voice called from behind.

“gyuya!”

the moment the nickname hit the air, his entire demeanor shifted. he straightened immediately, turning around with the most radiant expression either of his friends had ever seen. you stood there, backpack slung over one shoulder, hair tousled from the wind, a small, tired smile curving your lips.

“baby,” he said, voice drenched in affection as he rose to his feet and wrapped you in a quick, tight hug before kissing your cheek without hesitation. “you made it.”

you chuckled, squeezing his hand as you looked at the two boys staring at you, mouths half-open.

“guys, this is y/n,” beomgyu said, still not letting go of your hand. “she’s the one i was telling you about.”

“oh,” soobin said, eyes wide, trying to process what just happened. “oh.”

“wait— you— you’re together?” yeonjun asked, pointing between you and beomgyu like he was witnessing the plot twist of a k-drama.

you laughed, taking the seat next to beomgyu as he dropped down beside you, still holding your hand like it was something sacred. “we’ve been together for a while,” you said, resting your chin on your hand. “since before college, actually.”

“how do you survive the long-distance?” soobin asked, still stunned.

“it’s not easy,” beomgyu said, turning his gaze to you, eyes soft. “she’s studying economics at hanyang, i’m in the music program here… our schedules almost never match. but we make it work.”

“worth it,” you added quietly, glancing at him, your expression full of something deeper than words.

the boys watched in awe as beomgyu leaned into you, his fingers absentmindedly tracing yours.

“so... all those years,” yeonjun said slowly. “all that pining... paid off.”

beomgyu smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “every second of waiting. every stupid joke. every heartbreak.”

outside, the sky was shifting into twilight. the world felt slower, softer, suspended in something warm and right.

later, as you leaned against beomgyu’s shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut from exhaustion, he whispered into your hair, “i was such a fool for you.”

you smiled sleepily. “you still are.”

and god, he wouldn’t have it any other way.