#and i can go back and adjust things as need be

[landossnorriss]

not sorry for loving you | ln x she

Pairing: lando x she. Summary: they were convinced they could hide being together from everyone whilst they navigated being lovers and teammates, but life proved them wrong. Word Count: 1.4k Warning: lando's crash, fluff, a lil angst AN: a little self serving fluff that came to me this morning.

they had crossed the line behind closed doors in the bahrain palace last year after they had taken home a championship together. a year of tension had spilled over into that moment and neither one of them had stopped themselves when fingers had started exploring where they shouldn't.

they had promised each other that it wouldn't, no it couldn't happen again. she had been so sure she could resist him. lando knew it would mess with his head when it came to racing her. would he push his breaking that extra meter if it meant risking her? every time their lips found each other again in one of the driver rooms or visits to hotels on a night they lied, they promised that it was just casual, that it was just a way to blow off steam.

she knew he needed her , he knew she hadn't ever felt so seen.

they were their own little dirty secret and other than jon who had his suspicions given the guilty look on her face when he had called out the marks on landos back , no one in the team was none the wiser.

they were on weekend five now, at this rate they were sure that they could keep it up if they needed too all year. maybe if they were sure that it was something real then it would be something worth telling the team about. right now, every time they thought about it all they could imagine was the disappointed stares they would get from the team bosses should it go wrong.

so silently, behind kisses that got longer and sweeter every time they had to part from each other , they agreed this would just be a them thing and the lingering touches of his hand on her waist in the garage? the way she reached to adjust his curls to how she knew he liked them? they would pass them off as nothing more than teammates bonding, learning to move in total sync with each other for the best shot at the titles.

she had been smug about it that weekend too, as they had arrived in saudi, she had looked across at him , all tanned and sleepy with freshly dampened curls in her bed and had been smug. they had managed to keep the secret for so long now and they were proving that they could race each other and make it work. " i'm going to beat you in quali today , i'm going to make it back to back wins. " she smirked as she crawled into their bed , leaning over to press a kiss to his lips as he laughed, rolling the pair of them over and trailing his lips down her neck. " not if i can help it, something mighty would have to stop me. "

and it seemed that way too, through practice and the first two sessions of quali, she could feel something in her gut, something that felt wrong. she had thought that lando was right , he was going to get pole and tomorrow in the race she would be chasing him. why the idea of that filled her with so much dread she didn't know but as she pulled out of her garage she tried to push the imposing thoughts of dread from her mind and remind herself it was only race five. they had all the time in the world to go back and forth with each other.

the red flag had appeared just as she crossed the line and she knew , she knew even before the radio sounded in her ears it was him. he had left the garage just thirty seconds after her , he would have been the only car flying hard enough to cause such a quick red flag. " so that's lando is in the wall at turn five, red flag. "

one, two, three, four .... corners blurred past her as she fought back the misty feeling in her eyes and tried to figure out how to respond without giving herself away. she had been on track when drivers crashed before, this was nothing new to her so why did she feel like she was going to be sick in her helmet? " he's okay right? " she asked, voice quiet and shakier than she would have liked. " yea he's , he's radioed he's okay. "

she tried to let it calm her , tried to believe that he was okay and they wouldn't lie to her but she knew that she wasn't going to believe it until she saw him herself. through her interviews she was distracted, turning her head to the media pen to see if she could find him. her smiles were fake and forced as she posed for photos and people asked her what her plan was to get max off the line, she didn't know, she couldn't think about anything other than seeing him. all she needed to do was see him , then she could breathe.

when she finally walked back into their hospitality she waited and waited, staring at the door until she heard the crowds voices spike behind the doors and she knew that he had to have been walking through the paddock for that buzz to have sounded. as the door opened she chewed at her lips, almost bracing herself for something to be terribly wrong with him and as she saw him stood on his own two feet? the sob that left her was beyond her control.

without thinking, she was moving. lando didn't seem to mind as he locked eyes with her and immediately took steps towards her. arms were flung around each other as they met in the middle of the room and all regard for the eyes on them was seemingly forgotten. burying her face in his shoulder she couldn't help the tears that continued to flow as lando ran his hands up and down her back like he wasn't the one that had just been in an accident. " baby i'm okay. " he assured quietly , but not quietly enough as several brows around the room raised at the intimacy of their drivers.

oblivious to the storm they were causing, she pulled back to look at him, a hand finding his flushed cheeks, staring at her favorite pair of eyes for a moment as she grounded herself in the reality that he was here and he was walking and talking and he was okay. " don't ever do that again. " she scalded, half laughing through her tears half deadly serious. knowing he could make no such promise lando dropped his forehead to her own, his nose nudging at hers for just a second letting her just being there calm him.

only a cough from behind pulled them from their moment, landos arms tightening around her, almost shifting her behind him as he spun so that she was out of sight from their bosses. " we can explain. " he urged though he wasn't sure what they were meant to be explaining. that they weren't together? that he didn't love her? that she hadn't been the last thing he had thought about before it went black in his mind? to say any of that out loud to either of the faces looking at them would have been a lie.

lacing her hand with his own, she stepped into sight, ever so slightly, still just a shoulder behind him as people in the room began to shuffle and find something to busy themselves with. " we can explain , but ... " pausing for a moment she looked up at him, fingers squeezing his own as he nodded at her, offering a lazy smile that told her they had this. " we won't apologise. " she would not be sorry for loving him.

watching the pair, the way they clung to each other, their team principal let out a sigh. damn racing drivers and their immovable wills. " very well, shall we go and discuss this in private?" he offered, a hand held to gesture towards his office.

with a small nod she moved, stepping around lando and dragging the pair of them to the office, hands still linked. it was only a tug on her hand that stopped her from crossing the threshold into the room once they arrived, confusion on her face as she turned to look up at him. " i love you. " the confession fell from his lips and it wasn't how he planned on saying it the first time but it was there now and in the open as they smiled at each other. " and no matter what happens in that room , you're right, i'm not sorry for loving you. "

[r3ynah]

GHOSTBUSTERS DCxDP oneshot?

The bats think the mansion is haunted, and no one questions it. With the manor being at least decades old, being haunted by a possible ancestor of Bruce was the least of their worries when they have cases to solve, rogues to fight and mountains of paperwork to do.

At first, they ignored it, it was harmless at its earliest phase; pens disappearing out of nowhere when they'd clearly just placed it on top of the desk a minute ago, along with random lights flickering which they just reminded themselves to make a mental note that a lightbulb needs replacing.

And then it escalated, a few months in and things started getting freaky even for them, some of the bats would hear distant laughter in some corridors of the manor, shadowy figures at the corner of their eyes, and one time when the family was downstairs at cave working on a crime file half-past midnight, there was a sudden occurrence that every single light present in the Wayne manor even the cave underground suddenly turned off leaving the bat computer as the only thing to resonate light off from.

But even the bat computer was not completely protected, a few seconds after the blackout and after a few questioning glances at each other— all the monitor screens turned green, nothing in view just this neon sickly green that reminded them of the Lazarus pits, if they weren't alarmed yet, then the affair after this will certainly will:

The sound of someone weeping was heard, the crying was soft but not unnoticed. No, they couldn't even ignore this cry if they wanted to, but because this person was not letting their cries go unheard, it seeks their attention in every direction.

Everywhere but nowhere at the same time.

No one dared to break the silence, they thought they couldn't all the training and practice they had just willingly jumped out of the window when they heard the bellowing cries.

It seemed like they were being clung onto by unseen hands clutching at their legs to stay put in their places.

A few bated breaths: One, Two, Three, Four.

Wet footsteps can be heard slowly walking in their direction and then— Stephanie booked it, screaming along the lines of colorful and creative swears, followed by Tim cursing to himself that he needs to buy a bottle of holy water tomorrow, Jason definitely creeped out went to start his motorbike and escaping to go back to crime alley, Duke who was panicking grabbed Cass who was giggling at the chaos that is happening, by the hand and sprinted to the elevator with his powers keeping them from not slamming into anything, Dick was no religious person but he ran while singing the lyrics of 'I love you Jesus', Damian who was in Dick's arms can only protest.

And then there was Bruce, still standing unmoving at the center of the cave all alone, or is he?

And then Bruce felt it, cold mist gathering on top of his shoulders forming into a figure like someone was perched on it, he didn't want to believe it at first, but it was starting to be hard to make an excuse for it when a pair of neon green orbs like eyes opened up to stare at you, goosebumps traveled all over his body as he heard the uncanny but very clear whisper of the said mist like figure saying "Boo" before he also sprinted out of the cave to go to sleep, maybe he indeed was very stressed just like how Alfred told him yesterday.

It was now the next day, Alfred stood idly behind the kitchen counter, he adjusted an old cellular phone in his hand for a more comfortable grip while pressing it against his ear, his great-nephew called just a moment ago to express the troubles that he did.

"Did I go too far, scaring them?" Danny meekly said, clearly letting the guilt get to him, Alfred stayed silent as he looked up to look at the other room connecting to the kitchen which is one of the more used living rooms of the manor.

There he saw almost everyone present watching intently as Stephanie presented a PPT presentation of a video game called phasmophobia and was currently giving insights on how this game can help them as a basis on how they can identify the entity if it's just a shade or a full-on demon, which was also backed up by additional information given by Tim, who was very compelled on also doing this and was practically vibrating in excitement in place.

Surprisingly everyone else also seemed interested, nodding a couple of times in agreement and raising their hands when confused.

Alfred only had an amused look plastered on his face, as he brought his attention back to his nephew on the other side of the line:

"No need to worry too much my nephew, you have completed the task I gave you perfectly thank you."

Turns out that Alfred was getting irritated about how his worries were being ignored and how he was only given excuses as to why the bats couldn't rest and allow a time of relaxation, so he sighed and finally gave up and called his great-nephew from Amity Park to ask for a request in exchange of home baked desserts which was immediately accepted as a very good barter (Danny's words).

In the end, it went well, at least they have had their sleep and was now more focused on other things than work and being vigilantes, Alfred can only hope this will last up at a minimum of 2 weeks or so.

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 with high maintenance s/o

A/N: Lost that ask in the void probably but this was requested by an anon 😭

Seungcheol: He’s high-key into it. He’ll really buy you five perfumes for one outfit because he knows how you love to have options. Carries your bag, memorizes your skincare steps, and pre-orders your faves before you even ask. The man lives to spoil you.

Jeonghan: Master manipulator meets diva energy; a match made in heaven. You want all the attention? He’ll give it, but he expects it back. He’s playful about it, teasing, “You’re so high-maintenance, how do I even keep up?” But he still loves being your only person. Lovesssss to buy you random things and loves how you take care of yourself.

Joshua: Smiles through it but definitely needs a manual at first lol. He adjusts quickly though. You want to look fancy for brunch? He’s coordinating his outfit. You’re picky about your drinks? He’ll memorize your order. If it makes you happy, he’s down, becaussseeeeeee, you’re his priority. He loves it that you know what you deserve and don't settle for anything less.

Jun: He actually finds you fascinating and loves you for iy. You take two hours to get ready, you'll find him watching you get ready. He’s supportive, maybe even starts copying you lmao. You want to look like royalty? Let me help you pick your crown; prime example of this behaviour.

Hoshi: In the beginning of the relationship, he was very confused but committed. “Wait… we’re late because your lashes weren’t symmetrical?” He’s learning on the job but he tries so hard. Gets overly proud when he finally gets your coffee right. Always enthusiastic: “You look like a queen!!” his queen.

Wonwoo: Ykw? Chill king with the drama [slaying] queen 💅🏻 Your energy overwhelms him a bit, but he secretly likes that you bring noise and color into his monotonous world. He’ll listen patiently to you rant about hair serum vs oil like it’s life-or-death. Buys you gifts with zero complaint [and he actually wants to buy you things you like].

Woozi: Internal screaming intensifies. You’re the opposite of his minimalist lifestyle, but he adapts because he cares. “Why do you need thirty throw pillows?” But he’ll fluff them anyway. He’ll get grumpy sometimes, but his love language is lowkey acts of service. Expect him to custom-make you a personalized closet system just because he can 🤷🏻‍♀️

Dokyeom: Thinks it’s adorable, will hype you up so much. “You’re so picky about everything… that’s so cute!!” He loves and so into pampering you and making you happy. Carries your shopping bags, takes outfit pics from every angle, and sings to you while you do your 10-step routine.

Mingyu: He’ll do your skincare with you. He’s got the patience for your outfits, the taste for your aesthetic, and he lives to treat you like royalty. “You want another lip gloss? Cool, let’s get six.” He’s your chauffeur, chef, stylist, and biggest fan. He's a loser for you fr, mark my words.

Minghao: Absolutely supports it—as long as it’s within lines. He doesn’t mind your preferences, but if it’s for show or insecurity, he’ll call it out. “If this makes you happy, I’ll support it. But don’t feel like you have to be perfect for anyone, not even me.” Will treat you with respect and spoil you in his refined, minimalist way.

Seungkwan: Overwhelmed, but will do it all anyway. You want to go to three stores for the right nail polish shade? “I—okay, let me grab my bag.” Complains like a sitcom husband, but deep down he loves being needed. Will absolutely turn into your glam team. “You want curls or waves today, baby??”

Vernon: Baffled, blinks a lot, He’s like, “You need four lip oils? What do they even do?” But he’s chill. He won’t always understand the need, but he’ll support you. Might even help you compare filters for selfies. “You like the third one? Cool, post it.”

Dino: You confuse the hell out of him at first, but he adapts. This man is willing to learn. You want luxury, so he’s reading reviews. You like constant attention? He’s there. High-maintenance doesn’t scare him, instead, it motivates him. If that’s what you need, he'll figure it out.

[magicaloneandmystery]

crush

pairing: tfatws!Bucky x fem!reader

summary: Bucky was just trying to live as normally as he could given his history. he never thought a teenage-like crush would be part of that normalcy.

tags: idiots in love, sorta friends to lovers, fluff, slightly ooc Bucky? this is not proofread

masterlist

he was in deep shit, he concluded. that, or he was going insane. out of his mind. schizophrenic, even.

Bucky was on his bike, reflecting back on his evening with you. specifically, the way his heart had raced when the two of you were lounging with you just a little closer than friends were supposed to. or maybe, he was reading too much into it? had you meant to sit that close?

I mean, it wasn't even that close, actually... he thought.

that wasn't the concerning part, though. the concerning part was that he wanted you to sit closer.

in fact, much closer.

the characters in the movie they had been watching, in a particular scene one of them was sitting on the lap of the other, and he remembered thinking, "wish that was y/n on me."

he had immediately choked on air at realising the insanity of that thought.

so, Bucky's only two conclusions were:

a) he was undergoing a psychotic episode.

b) he was developing a crush on you.

option b was, frankly, just as insane as option a.

because Bucky was over a century old, for fuck's sake. how ludicrous would it be if he starts developin crushes like he was in high school?

and, lastly, he cannot ruin the friendship he has with you. nope. that was not allowed.

you were the light in his dark life, the thread that holds him to normalcy of adjusting to 21st century life, the sun to his gloomy sky-

yeah, he was in deep shit.

so, naturally, he was left with no other option than to knock on Sam"s door to ask for some advice. he wasn't about to fuck this up and he had no idea how these things worked anymore. the last time he went out with a woman was 80 years ago.

that was another horrible, horrible idea, Bucky realised, when Sam started wheezing and laughing and sputtering out his water at the words, "I think I have a crush on y/n."

"Bucky Barnes... developing a crush?" Sam had raised his eyebrows, before he descended into his laughing fit.

"are you done?" Bucky sighed after a while. "I came here for real advice, you know."

"sorry, sorry," Sam wiped some tears from his eyes. "what do you want my advice on? I think I can contact my nephew for some advice on crushes with girls..."

"if you're gonna be an ass about this I'm just gonna leave," Bucky grumbled.

"okay okay," Sam raised his hands. "I'll behave. for now."

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose and looked back at Sam. "how do I... tell her? uh. should I tell her?"

"you think she might like you back?"

Bucky told him about last night, the way you curled on the couch next to him, your fingers almost touching his, both of your hands splayed between you two. he told Sam about the shy smile you held around him whenever he was flirting with you - as a friend, of course - or the way she had almost cancelled a date because Bucky said he was feeling bored and wanted to know if she was free.

"she what?" Sam asked at the last one.

"yeah, I called her up one day when I had nothing to do and thought we could hang out. she was ready to blow off this guy she was seeing to hang out with me until I told her that I would find something to do, she needs to go out." Bucky must say, the warmth in his chest felt quite pleasant when he said those words out.

"and?" Sam pressed. "is she seeing anyone, then?" presently?"

"not that I'm aware of."

"we have good intel to work on," Sam nodded. "I have a plan."

✿✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠

Bucky was acting... weird.

good weird.

incredible weird.

weird in a way that made your heart flutter and the butterflies in your stomach flap around wildly.

he has been flirting a lot with you recently. small remarks about your beauty, hair, voice coupled with that charming smile? yeah, you didn't stand a chance.

you didn't understand how to interpret his behaviour. was he just opening up to you more, letting his charming side out? or was he flirting to...

you didn't let yourself complete the sentence. you couldn't let yourself hope that your feelings were reciprocated. that sort of hope could ruin your friendship with him.

all of those thoughts went out the window when Bucky put his arm on the couch behind you, his fingers almost - but not really - touching your shoulders. you could feel the heat of his body, smell his cologne even better. it was becoming hard to focus on the weekly movie you had picked out, a classic to help Bucky catch up to the world slowly.

after a while, your breathing evened out and you could move, so you opted to pretend and move just an inch closer. test out the waters, and all that.

it was a really slow night, but by the time the climax was nearing, you were pressed into his side, his hands resting on your shoulders and your thighs pressed to each other.

something shifted that night.

the two of you became bolder with your physical affection.

longer hugs, more cuddles on the couch, casual hand holding while walking through crowds or crossing streets.

that went on for about two weeks before your friends had encouraged you to do something more, take a risk. they swore they were 100% sure he liked you back. said it would be a 'calculated risk' bound to end in success. so you obliged them.

because maybe, just maybe, you believed Bucky really did like you back, too.

"would you want to go out tonight?" you asked him. "I was thinking how we've been hanging out too much at the apartment lately. let's go out! have some fun. what do you say?"

"yeah, sure. where do you want to go, doll?" Bucky leaned back, the phone pressed to his ears while he shot a confused look at Sam, who raised his eyebrows in return.

"have you been to the cafe near my place, the one with the best cheesecake ever?"

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so here you were.

on Bucky's motorcycle, your arms wrapped around his waist, while he took you to all the cafes that you swore he needed to try.

you were wearing a simple, long dress that had Bucky staring at your frame for a while longer than usual, while he was wearing a dark leather jacket and faded jeans, looking handsome as ever.

after a night of cafe hopping and good food, the two of you were returning home.

"I had a good time," you hummed when he stopped his bike in front of your apartment.

"me too," he replied, kicking out the stand and parking his bike while he walked you to your door.

"you know," you said, nerves overtaking you, your hands wringing together. "I had a much better time with you than with any of my dates in the last six months."

"yeah?" Bucky breathed out, stepping closer to you. he took a deep inhale before saying, "maybe you shouldn't go on any other dates."

your mind went in an overdrive at his words. did he just-?

"maybe we should have more of these nights," he continued, leaning his face closer to yours to catch your eye. "I know I would love that."

you stared in his eyes, their waves shining brightly in the moonlight. "I- I would love that too." you said.

"yeah?" he cupped your cheek with one hand, his other one resting on your waist. "can I kiss you, doll?"

"please."

and that's how you shared your first kiss with Bucky Barnes. your hands on his shoulders, his holding your face gently. it started out as a hesitant brush of the lips, until you pressed closer, wanting more. it was slow, a lazy tango of your lips as you two explored each other with racing hearts.

you separated for a quick breath before diving back in, another kiss that felt more passionate, holding each other closer, his hands now around your back, pulling you closer to him, yours around his neck, playing with his soft hair. that one left you breathless in a whole different way than just lack of oxygen.

after a quick and final peck, he stepped back a little. your head was swimming with thoughts of Bucky and all you could do was bring your hands back to his shoulders, keeping him close.

an awkward tension descended upon the pair, neither knowing what to say.

"so are we... dating?" you immediately panicked, wondering if this was the right question to ask right after you kissed a guy.

but it isn't any guy. it's Bucky, your heart whispered.

"I guess so," he chuckled. "would you like... that?"

"I would love that." a grin spread across the two of you.

he nodded. "I should go," he said, though he tightened his hold on you for a second. "a good night kiss?"

"yes please," you didn't wait, kissing him once more.

"have a good night, doll," he spoke afterwards, lips just inches apart.

"you too, Bucky," you said, staring at his lips then eyes.

"I'll call you tomorrow?" he asked, not knowing what dating today looked like. he'll have to ask Sam about that.

"okay," you said.

"bye," he said.

"you know you actually have to move away from me and to your bike to leave?" you teased.

"what if I don't want to leave?" he retorted with a roll of his eyes.

you laughed, slapping his shoulder lightly. "go, Bucky. we'll talk tomorrow?"

"yes." he said, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheeks one last time before he walked towards his bike.

you entered your apartment, waving to him as he sat on his bike, looking at you. he waved back with a grin.

after he rode away, you closed and locked the door, leaning against it as you touched your lips and cheeks, all the places his lips had touched you. your heart was racing wildly, the butterflies in your stomach refusing to slow down, the memories of the night replaying in your head. Bucky Barnes might be the death of you, you thought.

you were in deep shit, you concluded.

this was longer than I usually write but thank you so much for reading! likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3

[bloomseishiro]

IF THAT WAS CASUAL, THEN I’M AN IDIOT — NAGI SEISHIRO

౨ৎ — you’ve grown closer to nagi the past year. you spent time alone together, you made plans together, and you guys have even kissed! just one thing you forgot to do…define the relationship.

nagi seishiro x fem!reader. fluff, misunderstandings, nagi is taller than reader, college au (suspend ur disbelief and pretend nagi would go to college pls shdklakdc), ft. reo the accidental shit stirrer :3

word count. 1.0k

One of your favorite things about Nagi is the way he rests his chin on the top of your head as he lazily embraces your waist from behind. 

He always wears the comfiest sweaters and you can’t help but lean back into his warmth. 

“When’s your next class again?” you ask, tilting your head back to look up at him.

“In, uh, five minutes.” 

“Why are you still here, then?” you exclaim. “You’re going to be late. Again! You should go now.” 

Nagi groans, burying his face into the top of your head and murmuring a muffled, “Don’t wanna.”

It tempts you for a moment, you can’t lie. If you had the choice, you would stay wrapped in his arms like this for the rest of the day. Sadly, tuition isn’t free and missing a class is simply a waste of money!  

“If you go, we can get dinner after my 4 p.m. seminar,” you bribe.

He perks up ever so slightly before begrudgingly gathering his belongings and crossing campus to get to his next lecture on time. Once he waves goodbye, you notice Reo walking over with his eyebrows raised. 

“What?” you sniff.

“You guys need to start dating already,” he says with an eye roll. “This flirting and pining is getting to be unbearable.”

You blink. “Huh?”

Reo looks at you strangely. “What do you mean, ‘Huh’?” 

“A-are Nagi and I not already dating?” you ask.

A snort escapes him as he shoots you an incredulous glance. “You tell me. Nagi’s never told me the two of you are together. You haven’t either. Unless you both decided to keep your best friend completely out of the loop, then it seems like you’re not.” Reo adjusts the strap of his backpack and tilts his head to the side. “Did Nagi ask you out?”

You shake your head.

“Did you ask him out?”

You shake your head faster this time.

Reo’s eerie silence prompts you for an explanation. 

“Sure, we didn’t say anything, but we go on dates. I think… And we spend time together! Romantically!” 

He shrugs, putting his hands up lazily. “Hey, as long as you’re happy, right?”

You nod weakly, but a newfound horror overtakes you.

Have you and Nagi really not been together this whole time?!

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

It seems your bad and confused mood stuck with you thorough the entirety of your seminar and even into your dinner with Nagi.

You ordered one of your favorite noodles dishes, but even the familiar smell couldn’t entice you to eat. Feeling an intense stare burning through the top of your head, you look up from your bowl to see Nagi eyeing you questioningly.

“You haven’t eaten anything,” he notes, placing his chopsticks down. “What’s wrong?” 

With a sigh, you wonder to yourself if he notices when Reo isn’t eating as well. You thought he treated you differently, but maybe Nagi is like this to all his friends and you are just feeding into your delusions. 

“Y/N,” he says a little louder, a frown on his face. “Are you okay?”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you nod with wide eyes. “Yes, everything’s okay— I’m okay.” 

His frown deepens. “I thought you knew better than to lie to me.” 

You sigh, staring down at your food, downcast. “I do. Sorry.” 

“Then?” he prompts.

Taking a deep breath, you manage to choke out, “Nagi, what are we?” 

He blinks, as if taken aback by the question. “What do you mean?” 

You gesture between the two of you. “This— Us! What is it exactly? I thought I knew, but now I’m not so sure,” you say, giving him a helpless look. 

Nagi rubs the back of his neck, gaze flickering away from you and towards his half-empty glass of water. “I thought it was obvious. Aren’t we dating?” 

“We are?” you ask, blinking slowly. 

“Yeah,” he says, as if it’s the most simple thing in the world. “I don’t do any of the things we do with Reo or Isagi.” 

The nerves in your stomach settle down slightly once you realize Nagi views your relationship in the same way as you. 

“I don’t do this with any of my friends, either,” you promise, looking at him with earnest, doe eyes. “I don’t kiss or cuddle or go on dates with any of them!” 

“I’d hope not,” Nagi drawls, a slight expression of amusement playing on his face. “What brought this on so suddenly?” 

“Reo,” you answer sheepishly. “Turns out, you never asked me out. And I never asked you out. I guess he brought it to my attention that’s usually how dating works…” 

Nagi considers it for a moment before nodding in agreement. “I guess. I dunno. I never paid attention to that stuff before. Do you care about that?”

You hum, taking a sip of your water as you considered it. “Not really, at first. I knew whenever we spent time together alone, or kissed each other, it was special to us. We didn’t need to label it.” 

“Yeah.” 

“But,” you say hesitantly, “ever since Reo brought it up, I realized it would sort of be nice to tell people that yes, Nagi Seishiro is my boyfriend.” 

The tips of Nagi’s ears color as he hears those words come out of your mouth. 

“Yeah,” he says again, softly this time. “That sounds nice.”

You smile, a hopeful glint in your eyes. “Really?”

“I want you to call me your boyfriend,” he says firmly. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Hiding a giddy giggle behind your hands, you feel your heart begin to beat faster. “Yes, of course! I would love to officially be your girlfriend.”

Nagi smiles, gently grabbing hold of your hand from across the table. “Okay. That means you won’t question what we are anymore?”

You shake your head fervently. “Never!” 

“Good.”

And as you continue your first date as an official couple, you make a mental note to thank Reo later for spurring this on.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Let's Play Pretend - 10 | bodyguard!Bucky

Character: Bucky Barnes x singer! Female reader

Summary: You just wanted to hide here and find peace from the mess that wasn’t caused by you. But then, your hot neighbor bothered you. As if that wasn’t enough, the enemies you hated found you too.

PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , Part 9 , END.

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By the way, I published my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

The first thing you saw was light—bright, sterile, and blinding. You winced, your eyes fluttering shut again before they slowly adjusted. The ceiling above was unfamiliar, white with soft shadows moving across it. The smell of antiseptic told you exactly where you were.

You blinked, turning your head slightly. Bucky sat at your side, his posture tense but calm, like a sentinel who hadn’t moved in hours.

“Good morning,” he said softly, voice warm and low, careful not to startle you.

You opened your mouth, but your throat was dry. Still, you managed to whisper, “I’m… I’m safe, right?”

Bucky leaned forward slightly, his gaze locked on yours. “You’re safe.” His voice was firm now, protective. “No one’s going to hurt you—not while I’m here.”

The reassurance was like a wave washing over you—and suddenly, your chest tightened. Your lip trembled as a sob escaped before you could stop it. You covered your mouth, tears spilling uncontrollably down your cheeks.

Bucky was caught off guard. His eyes widened for a second, but then he reached out without hesitation. He gently pulled you into his arms, tucking your head beneath his chin, his hand moving slowly across your back. “Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered. “You’re okay now.”

But you weren’t okay.

Your breaths came faster. The hospital room started spinning. The walls felt too close. Your skin itched with the memory of everything that had happened. Selena. No—Stanley. The betrayal slammed into you all over again, a cold knife through your gut.

“I let him in,” you choked out between sobs. “I trusted him. I gave him a job. I believed in him. And he… he watched me. He followed me. All this time.”

Your vision darkened as the panic took hold—your heart pounded against your ribs, your lungs refusing to work properly. The machines around you began to beep faster. A nurse rushed in, but Bucky held you close, grounding you as you trembled.

“I should’ve seen it,” you cried. “I brought him into our lives. I—Dolly… she trusted him because I did.”

You gasped for air, hands fisting into the hospital blanket. “He followed me into dressing rooms, Bucky. I never fully undressed, but still… he watched. I thought I was being careful.” You looked at him, eyes wide and filled with horror. “I feel sick. Violated. How could I not know?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. His hand wrapped tighter around yours.

“He’s never getting near you again.” His tone was like steel.

You looked up at him, broken, your voice barely above a whisper. “How can you be sure?”

He looked at you for a moment, then said, “Let’s just say… men like him don’t survive in prison.”

You stared at him, unsure what he meant.

“He’s got the face and body,” Bucky added, almost coldly. “He’ll be popular in there.”

You blinked, stunned. Your eyebrows raised, your mouth slightly parted, but Bucky didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to. He didn’t want you to dwell on it. Not someone like Stanley. Not someone who started a cult in your name, who manipulated you, lied to you, and cost the lives of the people you cared about.

Why should you care what happens to him?

Bucky gently pulled the blanket higher around your shoulders. “Focus on healing,” he said quietly. “He doesn’t deserve your thoughts.”

Bucky sat back down beside you, watching you closely.

"You don't have to think about any of that right now," he said gently. "You look thirsty. Do you want something to drink?"

You gave a small nod.

Bucky stood up, walked over to the table, and poured water into a cup with a bendable straw. He returned to your side and held the cup steady as he guided the straw to your lips. You sipped slowly. The cool water was a relief, soothing your dry throat.

Just as you finished, a soft knock echoed from the hospital room door.

Your body tensed instinctively. Eyes wide, your breath caught. You weren't ready for more surprises.

Bucky stood, his expression unreadable as he walked to the door and opened it slightly, peeking through.

"Oh, it’s just you," he said, his tone shifting to something more casual.

"What do you mean ‘just you’? I’m the one overseeing this case," a voice responded with a touch of indignation.

Bucky rolled his eyes playfully and opened the door wider. "Yeah, yeah... Come in."

You watched as Bucky stepped aside to let the visitor in. The two clearly knew each other. There was an ease in their interaction that only came from familiarity.

"His name is Steve," Bucky explained, glancing back at you. "He’s a profiler—and officially part of this case now."

Steve stepped forward awkwardly, clearing his throat. "Sorry to disturb your rest."

"It’s alright," you replied with a soft smile, though your voice was still weak.

Steve blinked rapidly, clearly trying to stay professional—but he looked a bit starstruck. Being in the same room with a famous singer wasn’t something that happened every day.

Bucky nudged his friend’s shoulder with a smirk. "Come on, man. Say what you came here to say."

"Oh—right!" Steve straightened up, clearing his throat again. "I just wanted to inform you that ‘Selena’—or rather, Stanley—will be in jail for a very long time. We have enough evidence linking him to two murders."

Your face fell, the color draining from your cheeks at the word murders. Your fingers gripped the edge of the blanket. The weight of those deaths—the betrayal—sank heavily into your chest.

Steve noticed your change in expression and shifted gears quickly. "Ah—sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Just… wanted to say we got a lot of help from Bucky here."

You glanced at Bucky. "Really?"

"Yes," Steve nodded. "Without him, we wouldn’t have solved the case in time. We might not have even found you."

Bucky gave a small shrug, his arms crossing over his chest as he leaned against the wall. "It was easy, actually. I just noticed one thing about her—him."

You tilted your head. "What did you notice?"

"‘Selena’ never went to the bathroom," Bucky said plainly.

"That's it?" you blinked, confused.

"I followed your routine closely," Bucky explained. "Your schedule was packed—rehearsals, photoshoots, events. Hours on end. Even the most disciplined assistant would need a bathroom break. But ‘Selena’ never did. Not once. That’s not dedication. That’s unnatural."

Now that he mentioned it, your brows furrowed. You searched your memory. He was right. You had never heard Selena excuse herself, not even once. Not even a casual ‘Be right back.’ Not even during 12-hour shoot days.

Even Dolly would excuse herself now and then.

Bucky continued, his tone darker. "And how Dolly and Jack died… there were patterns. Both were seen talking to someone they knew right before they were killed. The crime scenes suggested no forced entry. She had access to their homes."

Steve chimed in. "After some questioning, we discovered Stanley used your fandom as a cover. He targeted fans who worked in Dolly’s and Jack’s apartment buildings. That’s how he got their access codes. Same with Vert’s place."

"But… forensics showed the killer was male," you said slowly, trying to connect it all.

Steve nodded. "Exactly. That’s why we couldn’t completely rule ‘Selena’ out. Despite how she—he—presented, there was no solid alibi. And now, with the evidence we’ve gathered, we’re confident we’ve got enough to keep him behind bars for a long time."

You exhaled deeply, overwhelmed by the storm of information. Your eyes drifted down to your trembling hands. A killer had almost taken over your life—lived in your shadow, earned your trust, and taken the lives of those closest to you.

"There are a lot of charges pending," Steve added, gentler now. "But what matters most is you’re safe. And we’ll make sure it stays that way."

"Thank you," you murmured, managing a small, genuine smile.

Steve's ears turned slightly pink.

"Why are you thanking him?" Bucky scoffed, crossing his arms dramatically. "I’m the one who saved you first."

You rolled your eyes with a soft smile.

Steve shot Bucky a look, smirking. "Oh, shut up. You’re just jealous." He glanced at his watch. "Anyway, time to go." He turned back to you, a bit more sincerely this time. "It’s an honor to meet you. I hope you recover fully and quickly."

You nodded politely, your expression grateful.

Bucky walked over to the door as Steve made his way out. "Get the hell out," Bucky muttered, half-jokingly, giving Steve a little shove.

Steve chuckled as he stepped into the hallway, then leaned back in with a teasing grin. "You like her, don’t you?" he whispered loudly enough for you to hear.

Bucky’s jaw clenched.n"No, I don’t. Shut up."

Steve raised a brow. "It’s obvious, Buck. Even she probably knows."

You tilted your head in curiosity while Bucky pushed him farther out into the hallway. "Go away before I punch you, Rogers."

"Love makes you soft!" Steve called out with a laugh as Bucky slammed the door behind him.

He let out a huff and leaned his forehead against the door for a moment before turning back toward you.

You smirked.n"So… that’s the friend you told me about before?"

He walked back to your bedside and nodded.n"Yup. That’s him. Used to be skinny as paper."

Your eyes widened. "Really? But he’s almost as big as you now!"

You paused, remembering the stories. You’d heard how Steve had been tortured even longer than Bucky. But looking at him now, with his kind eyes and confident posture, he seemed like a walking golden retriever—not a trace of the darkness he'd been through.

"How did he…?" your voice trailed off.

Bucky sat down slowly beside you, resting his elbows on his knees. His expression softened.

"It wasn’t easy for him. Or for me. Sometimes… we still get nightmares. Flashbacks." He went quiet for a beat. "But it's not as bad as it used to be."

You looked down at your hands, voice barely above a whisper. "Do you think I can pull through, like you guys did?"

He looked at you, his eyes filled with something honest—something that had seen pain and still chose to stay.

"I believe you can. But it’s not easy. It takes time. A long time." He leaned back, arms crossed loosely. "There were days I thought I’d go insane. Couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t breathe." He looked off toward the window. "Until I met Mrs. Walls."

You blinked. "Really?"

He nodded. "Yup. Meeting her… it brought me back to when I was a kid. She reminded me of something real. Something warm." He let out a breath. "At that moment, the darkness around me finally started to lift. Just a little."

You smiled softly, a glimmer of recognition in your expression. "I guess we’re some of those people who see their teachers like parents, huh?"

Bucky nodded, then his brows lifted slightly, remembering something. “Speaking of parents… I heard someone told Vert that we look alike.”

You immediately blushed, caught off guard. “Ehm… You probably didn’t realize it, but yeah. You really do.”

He squinted at you, unconvinced. “Me and him? That’s impossible. From which part?”

You counted with your fingers. “The jawline. The eyes. The way you tilt your head when you're listening to something. And that smirk—always raising your left eyebrow. Oh! And the way you play the guitar. Same fingerstyle. Same posture. Same little wrist flick thing.”

Bucky smirked.

“There it is!” You pointed at him and smirked back. “That exact smirk.”

He chuckled, leaning slightly closer. “Didn’t realize you noticed every little thing about me.”

You flushed deeper and looked away. “I-I don’t. It’s just… pretty noticeable.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow playfully. “Oh? Really?” He leaned in even more, teasing. “Anything else I should know you’ve been secretly observing?”

You grabbed your blanket and threw it over your face. “Shut up. I’m a patient. Stop bothering me.” Your voice was muffled as you hid under the covers.

Bucky laughed softly, trying to hold it in. “Alright, alright. I’ll listen to the patient’s orders.” His voice was still full of amusement as he watched the lump under the blanket.

Then his tone shifted, slightly more serious. “There’s more, though. Vert asked me to take a DNA test.”

You peeked out, blinking. “Huh? Did you take it?”

He shrugged casually. “Yeah, I did. But I don’t expect anything. It'll probably say 0%. I’ve given up on the whole ‘parents’ thing.”

You sat up straighter, watching him. “But… what if you are related to Vert?”

He shook his head. “Impossible.”

You tilted your head, thoughtful. “I don’t know. My gut says otherwise.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes in challenge. “Wanna make a bet?”

Your eyes lit up with intrigue. “What kind of bet?”

He leaned forward, voice low and daring. “If you’re right, and I am related to Vert, you can ask me for anything. No limits.”

You grinned. “And if you’re right?”

His eyes glinted with mischief. “Then you owe me something. My choice.”

You extended your pinky. “Deal.”

He linked his pinky with yours, the air between you suddenly warmer, closer.

Your hands stayed there a second too long. His eyes dropped to your lips. Yours flicked to his. The space between you seemed to shrink with every breath. His hand brushed your wrist, and your heart skipped.

Then—

“My dear! I came as soon as I could!” Mrs. Walls' voice burst into the room.

You both jolted and quickly pulled away, scrambling to sit upright as if nothing happened.

Mrs. Walls, oblivious to the tension she just shattered, rushed toward you and pulled you into a tight hug, her arms warm and comforting.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, stroking your hair like a worried mother. “I was so worried. I told them to call me if anything happened.”

You melted into her embrace, suddenly feeling like a child again, wrapped in safety.

“If you need a place to stay,” she said firmly, pulling back to look into your eyes, “you can stay with me. As long as you want.”

Your chest tightened at her words, a warmth flooding through you. You glanced at Bucky—he was already looking at you, and the way his expression softened said everything.

You turned back to Mrs. Walls, voice gentle. “Thank you, Mrs. Walls. I’ll gladly take your offer.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸

Six months later.

The classroom was alive with laughter and bright chatter. Colorful drawings covered the walls, some of them lopsided stick figures holding guitars and microphones—your influence was clear even in crayon. Sunlight poured through the windows, dancing across the hardwood floor as a dozen kids sang, clapped, and played simple rhythms with tiny instruments.

One of the kids, a little boy with untamable curls and wide brown eyes, tugged on your sleeve. “Miss?” he asked in a shy voice. “I heard from my mom that you’re a famous singer.”

You chuckled, crouching to his level. “I used to be.”

His eyes grew even wider. “Really?”

You nodded, smiling gently. “Yup.”

He beamed. “That’s why you’re so cool!”

You laughed, tousling his hair. “Thanks, buddy.”

After being discharged from the hospital, you'd made the decision to quietly retire from the music industry. No more spotlights. No more late nights and endless rehearsals. When you told Mr. Vert, you’d expected a dramatic reaction—maybe anger or disappointment. But instead, he simply nodded and smiled.

“If that’s what brings you peace, I’m proud of you.” he had said. His calm acceptance caught you off guard… but it felt like closure.

You took your first step into your new chapter as a guest music teacher—just to try it out, just to feel it. But after just one week, you knew. This was it. This was your new calling. Helping kids discover rhythm, melody, and the magic of self-expression—it filled a part of you that music stardom never had.

You stepped out of the school building just as the final bell rang, your bag slung over your shoulder and a soft breeze playing with your hair.

Then— Honk!

You looked up to see a sleek, brand-new SUV pulling up to the curb. The window rolled down.

Bucky leaned out, smirking. “Need a ride, ma’am?”

You grinned. He stepped out smoothly, walked around the car, and opened the passenger door with a small bow. “Ladies first.”

You laughed as you climbed in. “Thank you, kind sir.”

You slid into the passenger seat, and Bucky closed the door gently before getting in beside you. The new car smell filled the cabin, and the leather seats still looked untouched.

“Let me guess,” you said, eyeing the dashboard. “Another gift from Mr. Vert?”

Bucky shrugged, smirking. “Apparently, having a son means having an excuse to spend absurd amounts of money.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling.

Flashback Start

The DNA results had been a bombshell—99.9% match.

Neither Bucky nor Mr. Vert had known about each other.

When the results came in, Mr. Vert was stunned into silence. But only for a moment. Quickly, he gathered himself and turned to Bucky with something between regret and wonder in his eyes.

“I… I didn’t know. If I had—” “It’s fine,” Bucky had cut in, though his voice wavered.

All his life, he’d been alone. No family. No roots. Then, just like that, he had a father.

At first, Bucky didn’t know what to do with it. Mr. Vert, on the other hand, threw himself into fatherhood like a man trying to make up for lost time—lavish gifts, long talks, even awkward attempts at dad jokes.

It was heartwarming and hilarious watching them navigate this strange new bond.

You’d overheard Bucky stumbling through his first attempt at, “Thanks… uh… Dad.”

And Mr. Vert, with a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, proudly replying, “You’re welcome, son.”

It was beautiful. Messy. Real.

And as for the bet? You won.

Which meant you could ask Bucky for anything.

Flashback End

The SUV pulled into Mrs. Walls’ driveway. Her cozy home looked exactly the same—wind chimes, potted plants, and that familiar wooden porch.

Bucky turned off the engine and turned to you with a grin.

“After dinner, what do you want to do next… my girlfriend?”

You smiled teasingly. “Go back to your house.”

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “Then what?”

You leaned in slightly, your voice soft. “We eat the leftover dessert Mrs. Walls made… and watch movies from your watchlist this time.”

His smile widened. “Perfect.”

Then he leaned over and kissed you gently on the lips, the kiss tender and sure.

When he pulled back, he reached for your hand. Fingers intertwined, warm and steady.

Together, you walked to Mrs. Walls’ front door.

This was what you’d asked for. Not flowers. Not diamonds. Just him.

Not your bodyguard. But your boyfriend.

And he was more than happy to be both.

-The End-

Thank you so much to everyone who’s been with me from the beginning until the end of this story. 💖💖💖

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[mafiadad5]

No Strings attached || P.Jisung (PART 1)

˖ ࣪⊹🎸 Rockstar!Jisung x fem!reader (ft. crush!haechan) || PART 2- read here

˖ ࣪⊹🎸synopsis- Everyone's been raving about Black Horizon, and now they're in town for a concert. You never paid them any mind— didn't even know who they were, that was until you discovered that their lead guitarist is your long lost childhood best friend. You're finally reunited, but at what cost?

˖ ࣪⊹🎸genre/warnings- friends with benefits, porn with plot MDNI!, angst, fluff, multiple smut scenes, unprotected sex (don’t do.) oral (m.& f.receiving), fingering, car sex, sex under the influence of alcohol, jealousy, smoking, cursing.

˖ ࣪⊹🎸 w/c- 17.6k

Playlist- Come through and Chill- Miguel, Mascara- Deftones, Fill the Void- Lily Rose Depp, What you need- The Weeknd, Belong To You- Sabrina Claudio, Fallingforyou- The 1975.

a/n- omg omg took me forever. I really wanted to make it one part, but tumblr messed up, so two part series! I really hope u enjoy this and feel the rollercoaster like I did while writing. Love u mwah💋!

══════════════════════════

January 15th.

It started like any other night. You standing in front of your mirror, adjusting the tight ponytail. The soft hum of the fan filled the quiet room as you smoothed your hands over your uniform, ensuring everything was in place before grabbing your bag. Another long, late shift at the bar awaited you. The tips were good, but the exhaustion was there before you had even clocked in.

Setting your things down in the employee locker area, you barely had a moment to breathe before a familiar voice called out behind you.

"Hey Y/n."

You turned, instantly recognizing the warm tone, and found yourself meeting Haechan's eyes.

"Hey Haechan." You smiled instinctively, as if it was second nature.

He leaned against the doorway, his usual effortless charm on full display. His dark hair was slightly messy, his lips in that easygoing grin that always seemed to linger when he was around you.

"Thank you again for covering my shift tomorrow." He said with sincerity in his voice. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Yeah, no problem." You waved him off, though you couldn't help but appreciate the gratitude. "Anything to rake in some extra money."

His eyes lit up in understanding. "For your cafe, right?"

"Of course." You responded without hesitation.

The cafe had been your dream for as long as you could remember. Every extra shift, every tip jar stuffed with crumpled bills, it all went toward making that dream a reality.

Haechan smiled. "I would wish you good luck, but you don't need it. I know you can do it."

For a moment, you forgot to breathe. It always felt like he saw something in you that even you doubted sometimes.

"Aw, thanks Haechan." Your smile grew, warmth blooming in your chest.

Silence stretched between you for a minute too long, the kind of quiet that felt loaded. His eyes held yours, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths.

Clearing your throat, you broke the moment. "Well... um, you should get going. To make sure you're ready for your date tomorrow."

His reaction was instant, an awkward giggle as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh yeah. It's not a date though, just going to a concert with my best friend."

"Your hangout." You corrected."Who are you going to see?" You asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

"A band called Black Horizon."

You tilted your head. "Never heard of them."

Haechan smirked. "Yeah, that's typical. They're a relatively new band, but they're gaining a lot of popularity. You should check them out."

"I will." You nodded, making a mental note to look them up later.

He hesitated for a second, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. You could feel it again, that silence that felt loaded,  but just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

"Yeah, I'll see you later." He gave you one last smile before turning to leave.

You watched him go, exhaling softly once he was out of sight.

Haechan had been your coworker for 2 years. He was cute, kind, considerate— everything you wanted in a guy, but no matter how many moments like this passed between you, neither of you ever crossed that line. He didn't make a move, and you never dared to either.

With a deep breath, you pushed those thoughts aside and stepped onto the floor, slipping behind the bar. The night was just beginning.

The bar was buzzing per usual. It never really bothered you—if anything, the flow of customers made the hours slip by faster. There were moments like now though, when the chaos pressed in a little too much.

You turned your back to the crowd, facing the liquor shelf restocking bottles. In reality, you just needed a second. A second to breathe, to let the ache in your feet settle before another round of drink orders came in. The bar was packed tonight, but for once no one was calling your name. At least, not yet.

"Excuse me, Miss?"

You closed your eyes briefly, inhaling deeply. So much for a break.

"Give me a second, sir." You replied, turning around. Your breath caught in your throat. The face in front of you familiar, yet changed.

Your heart stuttered, then pounded. It had to have been, what, six years? Six years since you'd last seen him. Six years of brief thoughts about him, wondering where he was now. You had figured he was off chasing his dreams, too busy to look back, too far removed from your life to ever cross paths with you again.

And yet, here he was.

He blinked, his own surprise mirroring yours. His lips parted slightly, as if trying to confirm you weren't just some trick of the dim bar lighting.

"Y/n?!" His voice was filled with disbelief, his body instinctively leaning closer across the counter.

"Jisung?" You set the cocktail shaker down, barely aware of it leaving your hands.

He let out a breath, shaking his head with a disbelieving laugh. "What a fucking coincidence. I was just thinking about you."

"You were?" Your brows lifted slightly.

"Yeah, totally. I just landed back here after forever. How could my mind not wander to my closest friend growing up?" He grinned, though there was something unreadable in his expression.

You exhaled a small laugh, the weight of the moment pressing against your chest. "That's sweet." You forced yourself to slip back into professionalism, wiping your hands on a bar rag. "What can I get you to drink?"

"Shit—sorry, vodka lemonade please." He settled fully onto the barstool now, elbows resting on the cold counter. "How have you been?"

"I've been good. Just working, saving up." You started mixing his drink, pouring the vodka over ice. "What about you?"

"Life's been good to me lately." He admitted, a lightheartedness in his tone, but his eyes searched yours like he wasn't sure what to say next.

"That's amazing." You smiled, genuinely happy for him. "What brings you back here? I thought you moved away a few years ago and didn't look back."

Jisung chuckled, rubbing his jaw. "Yeah, I did, but I have a concert tomorrow."

You quirked an eyebrow. "Wait hold on. Is it for that Black Horizon group?"

His lips curled into a small grin. "Yep."

You groaned dramatically. "Why does everyone like this band except me?" You slid his drink across the counter.

"Ouch." He gasped, placing a hand over his chest in offense.

"I'm serious!" You laughed. "I've never heard of them, but somehow everyone else has. Even my coworker is going to the concert tomorrow."

Jisung tilted his head, eyes glinting. "You should come. Just to check it out. I bet you'd like it."

You hesitated, shaking your head slightly. "I would, but I have work. Besides, I don't have a ticket."

His response came instantly, a little too eager. "I can get you in—for free."

Your lips twitched into an amused smirk. "Are you trying to sneak me in? I didn't take you for a criminal Jisung."

He laughed, holding his hands up in innocence. "No illegal activity here."

You narrowed your eyes playfully. "Or do you work with the band or something?"

He hummed nonchalantly, taking a sip of his drink. "Something like that."

Your brows furrowed. "Wait, do you seriously work with the artist? That's sick."

His grin widened. "Yeah, the lead guitarist actually."

Your stomach dropped slightly. The realization hitting you. 

"Jisung... you're part of the band?"

He gave you a sheepish smile. "Surprise!"

Your eyes widened. "Are you serious?! That's insane. Is that why you left, to become part of a huge band?"

The excitement was evident in your voice, but as soon as you spoke, something in his expression shifted. His eyes darkened slightly, his playful smirk fading just a little.

"Okay, but let's not forget you left first." He pointed out, his tone a mix of teasing and something else.

Your stomach twisted.

"Jisung—"

"No, I'm serious. I'm still salty about that by the way." He finished off his drink in one last swig, setting the empty glass down with a soft clink.

You sighed, gripping the counter. "Look, it's not my fault my mom withdrew me junior year and cut contact with everyone. I didn't have a choice." Your voice softened, but there was a weight behind your words. "And let's not forget, you were the one who said you never wanted to talk to me again. So if anything, I guess I'm salty too."

Jisung exhaled, running a hand through his hair. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then he cracked a small, lopsided grin. 

"Whatever."

He reached into his wallet, pulling out a twenty dollar bill and sliding it toward you.

"Let's make it up to each other." He said. "Come to the concert."

"I would, but I seriously have to work tomorrow. I'm covering someone's shift, so I can't back out. Sorry." You said, lips falling into a small frown.

Jisung nodded, though there was something unreadable in his gaze. "It's okay." He pushed the twenty closer to you, tapping his fingers against the counter.

"It was nice seeing you Y/n." His voice was quieter this time.

Before you could say anything else, he stood up, slipping away into the crowd.

Six years.

And just like that, he was gone again.

You tried to push the interaction with Jisung out of your mind.

Tried.

Even so, you focused on your work, keeping busy until your boss finally gave you the okay to step out for a break. You didn't hesitate. The moment you were free, you slipped outside, inhaling the cold night air as if it could wash away the weight of anything.

You leaned against the rough brick wall of the building, closing your eyes for a moment, letting yourself just be. Until a familiar voice cut through the quiet.

"You're off work?"

Your eyes snapped open, turning instinctively toward the sound. Jisung stood a few feet away, hands buried in the pockets of his jacket, his expression unreadable under the dim glow of the streetlights.

Your heart jumped just a little. You hadn't expected to see him again so soon.

"Did you follow me out here?" You asked, a smirk tugging at your lips.

He grinned, rocking on his heels. "Maybe."

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head. "A musician and a stalker. How many more surprises are you gonna hit me with?"

"I never changed." He shrugged.

His words hung in the air, heavier than they should have been. Jisung pulled a box of cigarettes from his pocket, flipping it open with ease.

He tapped one out, sliding it between his lips before angling the box toward you. You glanced at it, then back at him, shaking your head. 

"I quit."

Jisung's eyebrows lifted slightly, but he didn't question it. Instead, he closed the pack and tucked it away.

"And you never changed, huh?" You teased, watching as he pulled a lighter from his pocket.

He rolled his eyes with a quiet chuckle, flicking the lighter open. The small flame illuminated his face for half a second before he lit the cigarette, inhaling deeply. Smoke drifted into the night air as he exhaled slowly, his gaze momentarily drifting before settling on you again.

"You know those things aren't good for you, right?" You said, crossing your arms. "Your words, not mine."

Jisung paused mid drag, giving you a pointed look before blowing the smoke out to the side.

"My words years ago." He corrected. "When you were sneaking around smoking at sixteen."

You scoffed. "Oh whatever. I was young and dumb. What's your excuse now?"

He hummed, rolling his cigarette between his fingers as he considered his answer. "I guess I have none." Another slow inhale... another exhale. "But shit changes."

You eyed him carefully. "That sounds like an excuse."

Jisung smirked. "I don't know, being young and dumb sounds like an excuse too."

"Is there a problem or something?" You asked, tilting your head slightly. "Why did you follow me out here?"

Jisung held your gaze for a second longer before flicking his cigarette to the ground, grinding it out with the heel of his shoe.

"I just wanted to talk, catch up a little." His voice was softer now, more serious. "Is there a problem or something?"

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. "No, but I'm at work. So if you'll excuse me." You started, moving to step past him.

"You should come to my hotel room after the concert." The words tumbled out quickly, like he hadn't meant to say them.

Slowly, you turned back around, raising an eyebrow. "Why?" You tried to sound indifferent, but curiosity was evident in your voice. 

Jisung ran a hand through his hair, exhaling before meeting your eyes again. "Just to catch up."

"My mother taught me not to go places with strangers." You teased, a smirk on your lips.

"Oh, so I'm a stranger now?" He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly.

You didn't answer, just turned away with a small smile, but then his voice cut through the air, lower, almost hesitant.

"I missed you, I can't lie."

You stopped in your tracks as you turned back, eyes narrowing just slightly. "Missed?" You echoed, your tone teasing, but your curiosity genuine.

His gaze met yours, steady now, but serious in a way that made your heart skip.

"Just come."

You hesitated for a moment, searching his face. Then you smirked slightly, turning to walk away. "My number's the same."

Jisung stayed where he was, watching as you disappeared back inside. For the first time in a long time, he smiled—really smiled. Because whether you realized it or not, that was as good as a yes.

══════════════════════════ You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting your ponytail like always. Same uniform, same shift, but something felt off.

Jisung never texted you.

Not a single message, not even a half hearted excuse, just silence.

You told yourself it didn't matter. That after everything—the history, the falling out, you shouldn't have expected anything, but the truth was it did bother you. Not because you were still upset about the past, but because you hated when people made plans and didn't follow through.

So why was there this unsettling feeling in your stomach? Was it disappointment? Annoyance? Maybe a mix of both. Whatever it was, you pushed it down and focused on work, pouring drinks, flashing polite smiles, letting the hours slip by. When your boss finally gave you the okay for a break, you stepped outside, inhaling the crisp night air, trying to clear your mind.

Then, your phone buzzed. Your brows furrowed as you pulled it out of your pocket, eyes flickering to the screen.

Unknown Number

You hesitated before opening the message.

An address. A hotel.

Your mind immediately went to Jisung. You had spent all night forcing yourself to forget, convincing yourself he already had, but he hadn't. He actually remembered. A slow smile tugged at your lips as you locked your phone, stuffing it back into your pocket.

When you finally clocked out, you were exhausted. You looked at your phone. 12:03 a.m. It was late, too late really. The rational part of you told you to go home, take a shower, and go to bed, but before you could make a decision, your phone buzzed again.

Jisung [12:04 AM]: "Are you still coming?"

You hesitated, fingers hovering over your keyboard. You should say no. You should tell him you were tired, that it was late, that catching up at this time was ridiculous.

You started to type out a polite excuse, but then for some reason you erased it.

You [12:06 AM]: "Maybe."

He read it instantly.

Jisung [12:07 AM]: "Well, I'm maybe waiting for you. And I'll maybe wait all night if I have to."

There was something about his answer that made it hard to ignore the curiosity in your chest. Why now? Why did he suddenly want to see you so badly? There was only one way to find out.

And that's how you found yourself standing in front of his hotel room door.

You hesitated for a moment, raising your hand before knocking lightly.

Seconds passed.

Then a full minute.

Just as you were about to turn and leave, the door swung open.

Jisung stood in the doorway, dark hair damp, skin slightly flushed, the faint scent of body wash lingering in the air. His t-shirt clung to his frame.

"Oh, hey." His lips curled into a small smirk. "You came."

You tilted your head slightly, crossing your arms. "Maybe." 

"Maybe." Jisung huffed a small laugh, stepping aside to let you in. 

You walked in, glancing around. The room was simple but elegant, a neatly made bed, a small couch, and a coffee table. But what caught your attention was the massive floor to ceiling window that showed the breathtaking view of the city skyline. 

"Nice view." You murmured.

"Yeah, it is."

You turned, only to catch Jisung watching you instead of the city. Clearing your throat you moved toward the couch, sitting down as he walked to the mini fridge.

"Is it okay if we drink?" He asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"Yeah, for sure." You replied. 

He grabbed a bottle and two glasses, joining you on the couch. The way he moved was effortless, but there was something about the way his fingers lingered as he poured the drinks, something in the way his eyes flickered up at you as he handed you your glass. You clinked your glass against his before throwing back the shot, the liquor burning slowly down your throat.

"So." You started, setting your glass down. "How was the concert?"

Jisung exhaled, running a hand through his damp hair. "It was good. Feels crazy seeing that many people singing along to our songs."

"Must be a wild feeling."

"It is." He leaned back, resting an arm along the back of the couch. "A few years ago, I was just some kid messing around on his guitar. Now, I'm on stage in front of thousands."

You smiled. "That's amazing, Ji. I'm happy for you."

He smirked pouring another round, sliding your glass toward you.

"What about you?" He asked. "What have you been up to?"

You hesitated, then shrugged. "Just working, nothing as exciting as you."

He tilted his head, eyes studying you. "I don't believe that."

"I promise you, my life is pretty boring."

"Doubt it." He murmured, taking another sip.

Silence stretched between you for a moment, like you both didn't know what to say next. 

Then Jisung sighed, swirling the liquid in his glass. "You know... I was pissed when you left."

Your entire body stiffened.

"I don't wanna talk about that."

He studied you, expression unreadable. "Y/n—"

"I mean it, let's not do this."

His jaw tightened, but he didn't let it go. "You disappeared— no calls, no messages. I didn't even know where you went."

You exhaled sharply, gripping your glass. "I didn't have a choice."

"You could've at least—"

"Jisung, stop." Your tone was firm, eyes locking onto his.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then slowly he leaned in, a smirk on his lips.

"Then make it up to me."

Your breath hitched slightly. "What?"

"You heard me." His voice was lower now, gaze flickering between your eyes and lips. "Make it up to me."

Something shifted in the air as the space between you shrank. The hum of the city outside faded into nothing, the only thing you could hear was the distant sound of traffic and the quiet rhythm of your own heartbeat.

You didn't know if it was the alcohol that had you both like this. Yes, you two kissed a few times in the past for fun, but that was when you were teenagers, and... closer. You didn't know what was happening now, but you didn't mind it.

"And how am I supposed to do that?" You questioned, even though you knew the answer. Your voice barely above a whisper as your eyes flickered to his parted lips before meeting his eyes again. 

"You know how." He responded, his hand landing on your knee.

"Maybe, but I want to hear you say it." You responded, lips ghosting over his.

"I don't know." He said, his eyes darkly looking into yours. "I feel like if I kiss you, I won't be able to stop." His hand cupped the side of your face, the distance between you begging to be closed. 

"Then don't." You replied. 

The second the words left your mouth, he was on you, lips crashing into yours like he couldn't hold back another second. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you against him as his tongue slid into your mouth, deepening the kiss until you forgot how to breathe, forgot everything but the way he tasted and how he made you feel.

You climbed on top of him without thinking, straddling his lap as his hands immediately found your hips, gripping you tightly. The kiss grew rougher, more intense—his mouth moving against yours with need, your bodies pressed together.

He broke the kiss, breath heavy against your skin, and trailed rough open mouthed kisses down your neck. Each one sent a jolt through you, making you squirm in his lap. You couldn't help pressing against him, grinding just enough to feel how hard he was beneath you.

His hands moved you against him, slow at first, then harder. You leaned into him, arms wrapping around his neck, your fingers threading into his hair gripping tightly.

He leaned back in, kissing you again messily like he couldn't get enough. His hands slid up from your hips to your waist, grabbing at you like he needed to feel every inch,  one hand slowly slipping lower. The kiss didn't slow down—if anything, it got rougher, more intense.

"We shouldn't be doing this." You muttered, pulling back just enough to breathe, lips brushing his as you spoke. He looked up at you, lips swollen and plump, eyes half lidded. You knew you should stop, but the way he was looking at you made it really hard to remember why.

"Tell me to stop then." He whispered, his lips barely brushing against yours.

You paused, trying to gather your thoughts.

"Exactly." He murmured with a lazy grin before you could respond, pulling you back into a messy kiss, this time his hand slipping under your pants, sliding past your underwear.

His fingers teased your folds, moving in slow circles before slipping one finger past your entrance. You broke the kiss, a breathless sigh escaping as he moved inside, your body instinctively responding to the sensation.

"Fuck, so wet for me." He murmured against your lips, his voice rough. He pulled you back into another kiss, deep and heated, his fingers working you slowly as his other hand slid up to grip your waist keeping you pressed against him.

His finger teased at your entrance before finally slipping inside, making you break the kiss with a soft moan. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, watching every reaction as his finger started to pump in and out slowly.

You tilted your head to rest on his shoulder, unable to keep the soft moans from escaping as he moved inside you, each stroke sending a rush of warmth through your body. His touch was torturously slow, drawing out every sensation until you were lost in the feeling of him.

"Feels good?" He mumbled quietly, his finger curling deeper inside you, making a soft whimper slip from your lips. 

"Answer me." He pressed, his other hand gripping you tighter. 

"Mhm." You managed to get out, breathless.

"What, you can't speak now?" He teased, his voice low. "Does it feel good? Yes or no?"

"Yes." You whimpered, your hands tangling in his hair as your body reacted to every move, every breath.

"Oh yeah?" He teased, a sly grin forming on his lips. 

He pushed another finger inside, stretching you open with the pressure of his large digits, making you shiver at the feel.

"Oh my god." You moaned, your grip on his hair tightening as his fingers moved quickly inside you. The sound of your arousal grew louder, each thrust of his fingers driving you closer to the edge.

"Fuck, I'm gonna—" You gasped, the words barely making it past your lips as your head dropped to his shoulder. Your body trembled, overwhelmed by the heat coiling tighter and tighter inside you. He didn't slow down, if anything his fingers drove harder, hitting that spot again and again until you were clenching around him. Your breath hitched, your nails digging into his skin as you reached the edge.

"Let's go to the bed." He whispered, his voice low and rough against your ear as you tried to catch your breath. You nodded, still dazed, your body soft in his arms. Without hesitation he lifted you, your arms draped around his shoulders, fingers brushing against the nape of his neck as he carried you. 

He laid you down, eyes dark as he climbed over you, pulling you into another deep messy kiss. His hands moved fast, stripping your pants and underwear, tossed aside without a second thought. He broke the kiss just long enough to undress himself as he watched you, chest rising and falling.

"Are you sure?" He asked, voice low and breathless, his eyes half lidded but locked onto yours.

You nodded, a soft "Mhm" leaving your lips, your body already aching for him.

He kissed you again, slower this time, then he pushed in, stretching you inch by inch. Your breath stuttered, nails dragging down his back as your bodies met, heat curling through every inch of you.

"Fuck, you feel so good." He breathed, voice rough as he sank all the way in. He stayed there for a moment, chest rising and falling just watching you, letting you adjust, letting the feeling of you wrapped around him settle deep. His hands gripped your thighs, thumbs brushing your skin, the heat between your bodies unbearable.

"Tell me when." He murmured, barely holding back, eyes flicking over every inch of you.

"Move." You muttered, barely able to get the word out.

He didn't hesitate. His hips pulled back, then rolled forward again, slow at first. A low groan came from his lips as he set a steady rhythm, each thrust dragging a soft sound from your lips. His hands gripped your waist holding you close, eyes locked on where your bodies met.

"Faster." You whimpered, voice barely above a breath.

His eyes darkened, and he gave you exactly what you asked for. His hips snapped forward with more urgency, each thrust deeper, harder, the sound of your skin meeting filling the room. He moaned softly, his own pleasure spilling out in breathy sounds as he watched you, eyes fluttering, lips parted, taking him so perfectly it nearly drove him insane.

"Fuck." He groaned, one hand sliding up to grip your waist tighter, the other landing beside your head as he drove into you, lost in the way your body pulled him in, begged for more.

He started to move faster, hips snapping against yours with more urgency. He couldn't help himself, your warmth, the way you wrapped around him, the sounds you made, it was too much. His moans grew louder, more desperate, as his rhythm changed just slightly overwhelmed by how good you felt.

His teeth grazed his bottom lip, catching it for a second before letting it slip free, lips parted, breath fast and uneven. His eyes locked on yours, heavy with lust.

"Fuck... I'm close." He said in a low whimper.

Every muscle in his body tightened, chasing that edge as he started to unravel inside you.

"I'm almost there." You whimpered, your voice trembling as your hooded eyes met his for a second before fluttering shut. Your head dropped back against the mattress, fingers gripping the covers beneath you.

He let out a low shaky breath, pulling one hand from your waist and dragging it slowly up your body. He found your hands, lacing his fingers through yours, holding them tightly.

The change in angle had him thrusting even deeper, hitting that spot again, your whole body jolting with pleasure. His grip on your hands tightened, hips chasing your release like it was the only thing that mattered.

Your legs began to shake, trembling uncontrollably as you clenched around him. The sounds falling from your lips grew louder, broken and breathless mixing with the wet slap of his hips against yours. A ring of your arousal coated the base of him, the sight alone pushing him right to the edge.

"Fuck." He gasped, voice catching in a choked whimper as he fell apart, thrusts growing rougher, messier, desperate. He pulled his hands from yours, fumbling to yank your shirt up, needing to see you—needing to finish.

With a few last messy thrusts, he pulled out, hand wrapping around himself. His jaw clenched as he let out a shaky groan, coming across your stomach, his body shuddering as he spilled every last drop.

He collapsed beside you, chest rising and falling rapidly, body still trembling. His fingers gently traced the curve of your waist. His eyes softened as they met yours, a breathless smile appearing at the corners of his lips.

"Are you okay?" He murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. He didn't need to ask, not really, but he wanted to make sure you felt as safe and cared for as he felt in that moment.

You nodded, your own breath finally starting to steady, fingers running over his chest. The quiet of the room felt like everything had slowed, each moment stretching out just enough for you both to catch up with each other.

5:00 AM

Your eyes fluttered open. The sheets were warm, tangled around your legs, and for a brief second you didn't remember where you were. Well, not until you looked beside you.

Jisung. Fast asleep.

You sat up quickly, rubbing the blur from your eyes, heart pounding just a little too fast. You never woke up this early—not naturally at least. Maybe it was your body's way of reminding you that you weren't supposed to be here, that this was real, that it happened.

Lying next to him had felt natural, like second nature, like slipping into an old habit you didn't know you still had. His warmth still lingered on your skin, the faint scent of his cologne clinging to the sheets, wrapping around you.

He looked peaceful like this.

Hair messy, his lips slightly parted, his breathing steady. He didn't look like the Jisung you had been reunited with last night—the one who was cocky, pushing your buttons just enough to get under your skin. No, this was the Jisung you remembered from before. The one you used to sneak glances at in class, the one who made you laugh without trying. 

A part of you, a stupid part of you wanted to lay back down, press yourself against him, bury yourself in the comfort of his presence. Wanted to let him pull you close in his sleep like he used to, wanted to pretend, even for a little while, that none of the years apart had happened. 

You swallowed hard, pushing the thoughts away. This was probably just a hookup to him—one last reckless decision before leaving the city, and maybe that was all it should be to you too. Before you could change your mind, you carefully slipped out of bed, grabbing your scattered clothes off the floor. You dressed quickly, barely breathing, barely thinking, just moving.

Jisung stirred slightly, mumbling something under his breath, but he didn't wake up. You slipped out into the cold, dark morning.

10:04 AM

Your phone buzzed beside you, the screen lighting up against the dark comforter of your bed. You weren't even sure why you reached for it so fast.

Jisung [10:04 AM]: "I had a fun time last night. When can I see you again?"

You stared at the message, fingers hovering over the screen. The easy answer was never. You could leave it at that—ignore him, let this be a one time thing and pretend none of it mattered. 

Another buzz.

Jisung [10:10 AM]: "Can we grab lunch together or something this afternoon?"

Your lips pressed together, exhaling a slow breath. Everything in you screamed that this was a bad idea. That seeing him again after everything would only make things worse, but he wanted to see you, again and maybe that was enough.

You [10:12 AM]: "Yeah, okay."

The restaurant was small, tucked away on a quiet street corner. A place you wouldn't have picked yourself, but the atmosphere was nice. Jisung was already there when you walked in, sitting in a booth by the window. His eyes met yours instantly, and that stupid smile of his tugged at his lips as he waved you over.

"You actually came."

"I said I would, didn't I?" You replied, sliding into the seat across from him.

"Yeah, but you also left me alone in bed this morning, so I wasn't sure."

You huffed, shaking your head. 

"What? It was kinda tragic." He grinned, leaning back in his seat. "Woke up cold and abandoned."

"Tragic, really?" You murmured.

"Devastating honestly." He sighed dramatically, then smirked. "Thought maybe I imagined the whole thing."

He didn't. You knew that. You both did.

"You didn't." You said dryly, picking up the menu. 

He chuckled, eyes still fixed on you.

"So." He said, tilting his head slightly. "What do you recommend? This was your idea after all."

"Excuse me? You invited me."

"Yeah, but you said yes."

"Which makes it my idea?"

"Exactly." He smirked.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the small smile that slipped through. It felt familiar, like nothing had changed. It was in the way his gaze lingered on you a little too long, the way his fingers tapped the table, like he was thinking of saying something but holding back. It was also in the way you couldn't help but steal glances at him, like you were trying to find something in his expression that wasn't there before.

The waiter came, and you ordered, the momentary distraction shifting the mood back to something lighter for only a split second.

But then—

"Why'd you leave?"

Your hand stiffened around your glass.

You didn't look up. "Jisung."

"I know, I know." He said, rubbing the back of his neck. "You don't wanna talk about it, but—"

"But nothing." Your voice was sharper than intended, but you didn't soften it. "I told you I don't want to talk about it." 

His jaw tensed, eyes searching yours for something, but he exhaled and leaned back.

"Fine. No deep shit today." He paused, then smirked. "But you can make it up to me later."

Your breath hitched. "Jisung—"

"Relax." He grinned, reaching for his drink. "Just a joke."

It wasn't, but you let it slide.

"So, what's next for you?" You asked, shifting the conversation.

Jisung's smirk faded slightly, his fingers tapping against the table. "Heading to another city tomorrow. Last stop on the tour."

"Oh."

You didn't know why that answer made your chest tighten. It wasn't like you expected him to stay, it wasn't like this changed anything.

"You gonna miss me?" He teased.

"Not even a little."

He gasped dramatically. "Liar."

"Delusional."

"You wound me, Y/n."

You laughed, shaking your head. 

Lunch continued, and despite the underlying tension, it was... good.

You laughed more than you wanted to. Fell back into old habits, old inside jokes. For a moment, it almost felt normal, but as you walked out of the restaurant together reality hit. Jisung was leaving and you had no idea if, or when you'd see him again. He seemed to read your mind because he gave you a small smile. 

"You know, if you ever feel like seeing a Black Horizon show, I'll get you in."

"Oh, so you're offering me free tickets now?"

"I always was."

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. The goodbye hovered between you. Neither of you wanted to say it, but it was inevitable.

"Goodbye Jisung."

His eyes softened slightly, fingers twitching like he wanted to reach for you, but stopped himself.

"Yeah." He murmured. "See you around."

But as he walked away, you couldn't help but wonder— was this really the end?

══════════════════════════

It had been about a month since Jisung left, and honestly, you had forgotten all about him.

Well—partly.

His number still sat in your phone, not saved, but memorized enough that your eyes lingered over it sometimes. Sometimes you caught yourself staring at your screen, wondering if you should reach out, if you should at least say something, but you never did, never could. It was better this way, he should stay in the past—strictly.

It was time to focus on your future.

"You okay?"

A voice knocked you out of your thoughts, and you turned your head.

Speaking of the future.

"Yeah Haechan, I'm good. Just thinking." You flashed a small grin, trying to shake off the moment.

He tilted his head slightly, studying you. "About what?"

"Nothing you'd be interested in." You grabbed your washcloth, running it over the counter, focusing a little too hard on the streaks left behind.

"I'm interested." His response came quickly.

When you looked up, his eyes were locked onto yours, a grin forming at the corners of his lips. The moment stretched just long enough for warmth to creep up your neck before you turned away, cheeks feeling a little too hot.

The bar was practically empty now, the usual hum of voices gone, closing time. You always liked this part of the night—the slow, quiet moments when it was just the two of you finishing up, the outside world feeling distant.

"Just about life, that's all. Nothing I can really put into words right now." You finally answered.

Haechan nodded like he understood, turning back to organize the glasses behind the counter.

"Is it something you can put into words later?" He asked after a second. "Outside of work, maybe?"

His voice was quieter now, almost like the words slipped out before he could think twice.

Your hands froze mid wipe.

"What did you say?" You asked, turning to face him.

Haechan had his back to you, placing the last glass on the shelf, but when he turned around his lips were pressed together, cheeks puffed out slightly like he had been caught.

"Huh? I didn't say anything." His voice was light, but there was something a little nervous about the way he scratched the back of his head.

You squinted at him suspiciously. "I swear you said something. I must be imagining things—I'm exhausted." You giggled, shaking your head, but you didn't miss the way he let out a small breath of relief.

"Yeah, I get it honestly." He wiped his hands on a towel, eyes scanning the room before nodding in satisfaction. "Looks pretty good in here, I think you're good to go."

"Are you not coming with?" You asked, genuine concern slipping into your tone.

"Nah, the boss texted me and asked me to check out the security cameras since I'm the only one who knows how to work them."

You frowned. "I can learn—"

"I'm good, swear." He cut you off quickly, shaking his head. "Go home and get some rest. I'll see you in a few days, yeah?"

"Maybe tomorrow. The boss needs me for the afternoon shift, so we'll run into each other most likely."

Haechan sighed, his lips forming into a smile. "You've been working back to back Y/n, you need a break. Take tomorrow off— I'll cover you, I like working Monday anyways."

"No, it's okay, swear. I need the money anyway. It'll all be worth it when I have the—"

"Cafe, I know." He finished for you, his smile growing.

You laughed, shaking your head. "Yeah, sorry."

"No need to be sorry, I love hearing about it." His voice was soft, but firm. "But you're gonna be burned out by the time you open it if you keep working like this."

Before you could protest, he reached into his pocket pulling out a crisp hundred dollar bill and holding it up.

"Take a break Y/n."

Your eyes widened. "Haechan, I can't accept this."

"Yeah... I think you can." He shifted on his feet, his smile turning a little awkward, like he wasn't sure if this was too much. "Just... think of it like an early birthday gift, I guess."

"First off, my birthday is in 3 weeks. Second, how did you even remember that?" You asked, exasperated.

He raised an eyebrow, pressing his lips in a line. "It happens every year, kinda hard to forget."

You stared at him for a moment before sighing. "Okay, okay. I'll take the day off, but keep your money—seriously."

Haechan pouted dramatically. "So you're rejecting your gift? Wow, okay, I didn't know you hated me."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Fine." You grabbed the bill from his hand, rolling your eyes. "Thank you for the three week early gift, kind sir."

"You're welcome, madam. There's more where that came from." He smiled brightly.

"There better not be." 

His smile softened. "Well, I'll at least get you a little something more on your birthday. Even though you shouldn't set foot in this place on your birthday."

"Trust me, I won't, but the day after? I can't promise anything." You shrugged playfully.

"Well, I'm afraid I can't stop you that time, but I'll make sure I'm scheduled so I can give you your gift." He smiled comfortably.

"Okay, I'll be waiting on it."

Your eyes met his, and for a split second, it felt like something hung in the air between you, but before it could settle Haechan cleared his throat.

"Well, you should head out."

"Yeah, okay." You nodded, stepping away to grab your stuff from the back.

When you returned to the front, Haechan was still adjusting bottles on the shelves.

"I'll see you later."

He turned, a smile on his face. "See ya."

You pushed the door open, stepping into the cool night air. The smell of cigarettes hit your nose. Familiar... too familiar.

Before you could process it, a voice came from behind you.

"You're off work?"

Your stomach dropped. You turned slowly, eyes locking onto Jisung.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Jisung stood there, cigarette dangling between his fingers, dark eyes flickering over you.

"Well, I wanted a drink, but it looks like you're closed." He peeked through the glass doors before returning his gaze to yours.

Your arms crossed tightly. "Jisung, seriously. What are you doing here? I thought you were gone... for good."

He tilted his head. "I said I was going to another city for a stop, not that I was gone forever."

You narrowed your eyes. "I don't know, the way you said bye made it seem like—"

"I said see you around." He cut you off. "You said bye. Honestly thought you'd disappear again before I came back."

Silence.

You exhaled sharply. "Goodbye, Jisung." You turned to walk away.

"Wait. I came because I wanted to see you again. Don't act like you don't want to see me too."

"I don't." You shot back, rolling your eyes, your arms folding tightly across your chest.

His expression flickered, just for a second before he scoffed. "Why are you so damn mean all of a sudden? This new personality is seriously unlikable."

Your eyes narrowed. "I don't know, maybe because we haven't been friends for, I don't know—six years? So yeah, I've changed, and I'm sorry you don't like it." Your words were sharp, cutting.

"I'm trying to like it, but you're not making it easy." His voice was firm, frustration creeping into his tone as he leaned forward.

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. "It's literally the second time you've seen me Jisung, relax. You're acting like you've been chasing me down for years."

"You left first, yet I'm the bad guy for trying to reconcile?" He spoke, jaw clenching.

Your stomach twisted, irritation bubbling up.

"You don't want to reconcile, you want to hookup. Which was a one time thing by the way." You snapped, crossing your arms. "What happened to gentlemen who take you out to dinner." You said rolling your eyes.

Jisung blinked, tilting his head slightly. For a moment, you thought you'd struck a nerve. 

"I will."

His voice was different now, lower.

Your brows furrowed. "What?"

"I didn't know you wanted to, but I will." His eyes met yours.

You huffed, shaking your head. A short exasperated laugh escaped you, like you couldn't believe what you were hearing. "Nah, you're good." 

But Jisung didn't let it go.

"No, send your address." His voice softened slightly, but the determination was still there. "You want me to take you out to dinner? I'll take you out to dinner."

"Right." You scoffed, lifting an eyebrow. "I bet you will." You said sarcastically, turning away from him, walking quickly. 

And he didn't call after you, didn't try to stop you, but you could feel his eyes on you.

══════════════════════════ You sat on your couch, phone in your hand, your knee bouncing slightly as you stared at the empty message thread. This was a bad idea, such a bad idea, but your fingers hovered over the keyboard anyway.

Jisung had gotten under your skin the way he always did—effortlessly. You could still hear his voice, see that teasing smirk he always wore when he knew he had the upper hand.

"You want me to take you out to dinner? I'll take you out to dinner. Tomorrow."

You huffed, this wasn't some big deal—it was just dinner, just food. You felt that you should just ignore it, let it go, prove that he didn't still have this stupid, frustrating hold on you. But instead, before you could overthink it, you typed out your address and hit send.

It took less than a minute for the read receipt to pop up. 

Jisung [6:24 PM]: "Oh? Someone came to her senses."

You rolled your eyes.

You [6:25 PM]: "Shut up. Are you picking me up or what?"

Jisung [6:26 PM]: "Relax Y/n. I'll be there at 8."

You could practically hear the cocky tone in his voice just from the text. This was going to be such a mistake.

Jisung pulled up in front of your apartment exactly at eight, which was surprising considering his usual habit of running late.

He rolled down the window, resting his arm on the door as he looked at you with a smirk. "Look at you, actually waiting outside for me."

You gave him a dry look, tugging the car door open. "I swear to God Jisung—"

"Ok, ok." He laughed, unlocking the door fully. "Get in before you change your mind."

The drive to the restaurant was... normal and that in itself was strange. There was no arguing, no sarcasm, instead, the conversation flowed naturally. He talked about the last stops of his tour, about how much he thrived on stage, but hated how exhausting the traveling was. You mentioned how much the city had changed since he left—how certain streets felt unrecognizable now, but some places stayed exactly the same.

By the time you reached the restaurant, you weren't sure what to expect anymore, but when you sat across from him, your menus open but untouched, Jisung leaned back in his chair and smirked. "Alright, let's talk about you."

You raised an eyebrow. "What about me?"

"Everything." He said simply, tapping his fingers against the table. "What have you been up to? What do you do when you're not pouring drinks?"

"I work. I go home. That's pretty much it." You said.

"Bullshit."

"It's not bullshit."

"No, see, that's bullshit." He leaned forward slightly, eyes locked onto yours. "You never just work, you always had something else going on. So?"

You hesitated, your fingers tracing the condensation on your glass. You weren't sure why you felt reluctant to tell him—maybe because it was personal, and you weren't ready to hand him pieces of yourself again, but still, you sighed and gave in.

"I've been working on opening a café."

Jisung blinked once, before letting out a scoff of amusement. "I knew it."

"Knew what?"

"Knew you wouldn't let that go." He shook his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You were obsessed with that idea when we were younger."

You frowned slightly. "Yeah, now I'm actually making it happen."

Jisung tilted his head, his smirk fading into something unreadable. "Why didn't you just say that earlier?"

You looked away, your fingers still trailing along the glass rim. "I don't know, you've been gone for years. I figured it didn't really matter to you."

His expression flickered, but he didn't immediately snap back with some sarcastic remark. He leaned back, watching you carefully. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" You asked, glancing up.

"Talk like I don't know you at all anymore." His voice wasn't teasing anymore. It was steady, a little softer than before. "Like I didn't spend years listening to you go on about this."

You cleared your throat. "Well, it's happening now. I have a location and the last bit of funding."

Jisung exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. "Damn. You really pulled it off."

"Trying to." You corrected.

His lips curled slightly. "I'd go."

You met his gaze, eyebrow raised. "You better."

For a while, the conversation kept its natural rhythm. The teasing was still there, but it was balanced by genuine curiosity. It almost felt like nothing had changed. 

"How's your mom?"

Your expression dropped for a small second as you reached for your drink, stalling with a small sip. "Huh?"

"Your mom." Jisung repeated, tilting his head slightly. "How's she doing? I should stop by, say hello."

You let out a short, forced laugh. "Oh, I don't think she'll be too happy to see you."

Jisung's easy expression faltered slightly. "Huh?"

"Oh, no I'm just saying that she probably just doesn't want to see you." You said, a forced smile on your face as you brushed it off.

"What do you mean?" He questioned. 

"Nothing, just... I don't think she really cares about catching up with you, she doesn't really like having company y'know?" You said, keeping your voice casual. 

His fingers tapped lightly against the table. "Yeah, I understand. Why do I feel like you're leaving something out though?"

"I'm not." You said, forcing a small smile. "Seriously, it's nothing."

Jisung studied you, his gaze sharp, like he was picking apart the way you avoided eye contact.

"Does it have something to do with you leaving without telling me anything?"

Your shoulders stiffened. "Jisung, stop. Seriously."

"No." He pressed, his voice low. "I feel like I deserve to know—"

"I said stop."

The words came out sharper than you intended, a little too loud. A couple at a nearby table glanced over. 

Jisung leaned back slowly, raising his hands slightly. "Fine."

But the mood had already shifted.

Jisung cleared his throat, shifting slightly. "So... did you ever get good at baking?"

You blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"Baking." He repeated, his voice forced light. "You used to suck at it, burnt cookies every time."

You let out a small, barely there laugh. "I got better."

Silence stretched between you. Jisung drumming his fingers against the table before trying again. "So, uh... do you live alone?"

"Yeah."

"Nice place?"

"It's alright."

"Any pets?"

"Nope."

Another pause.

He let out a slow breath. "Still listen to the same music?"

"Mostly."

"What happened to that one band you were obsessed with?"

"They broke up."

Jisung sighed, rubbing his jaw. "Okay, you gotta give me something here. I'm trying, but you're shutting me down."

You finally looked at him, shrugging.

He studied you for a second, then nodded, pushing his chair back. "Let's go."

The ride was quiet, the weight of the earlier conversation lingering between you both. Jisung pulled up in front of your apartment, resting his hands on the steering wheel.

"Okay, bye." His voice was flat, casual...too casual.

You glanced at him. "You're not coming in?"

He raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking up slightly. "Why would I need to come in?"

His tone was teasing, but there was something beneath it, like he was testing the waters.

You smirked, tilting your head slightly. "Come on."

Jisung stepped inside, hands shoved into his pockets as he looked around, taking in the space.

"This is a nice place." He said, his voice casual, but there was a hint of genuine interest behind it.

You huffed, kicking off your shoes by the door. "Yeah right."

"I'm serious." He replied, trailing after you as you walked into the living room.

You turned to face him, arms crossed. The air between you felt... off balance. Like you both knew where this was going, but neither of you wanted to be the first to say it.

"Would you like a drink?" You asked, your voice a little quieter now.

"Naw, I'm good." His reply was smooth, but his eyes never left yours.

Silence stretched between you, before you finally broke it.

"Okay." You said, the word lingering in the air.

Jisung raised an eyebrow watching you carefully, waiting.

You swallowed, exhaling softly. "We're on the same page here, right?"

His lips twitched slightly, like he was holding back a smirk. "I don't know, maybe. What are you thinking?"

His voice was lower now, he already knew what you were thinking, but wanted to hear you say it.

You hesitated for only a second before stepping closer. "I don't know." You admitted, your fingers brushing against the hem of your shirt. "But I think we should stop talking about it and make it happen—only if we're on the same page, of course."

Jisung's smirk deepened as he took a slow step forward, closing the space between you.

"Oh?" His voice was teasing, but his eyes had darkened slightly, his gaze locked on yours. "What happened to it being a one time thing?"

You felt your pulse quicken, but you kept your expression steady. "I mean... if you're not interested, that's—"

Before you could finish Jisung interrupted you, his lips crashing against yours, his hands finding your face, fingers threading into your hair as he pulled you in like he'd been waiting for this. You barely had time to react before your hands instinctively moved to his waist, gripping onto him and pulling him even closer, surprising him slightly.

He broke the kiss for just a second, his breath fanning over your lips as he whispered. "I am."

Then his lips were on yours again. You truly thought that was going to be the last time, but first it started with him appearing in your notification center. 

Wednesday, 2/19

The first time was impulse.

You were in the middle of getting ready for work, standing in front of your mirror, smoothing out your shirt when your phone buzzed.

Jisung [6:47 PM]: "Hey, wyd tonight?"

You stared at the message, your fingers hesitating over the keyboard for a moment before you responded.

You [6:49 PM]: "Work, why?"

Jisung [6:50 PM]: "Can you come over after?"

It would be the last time. You'd make sure of it.

You [6:52 PM]: "Okay, but this is the last time."

Lying to him was one thing, lying to yourself was another because your mind kept drifting back to him—to the way he touched you, the way he felt.

Friday, 2/21

By the third time, it wasn't impulse anymore. 

You were curled up on your couch after a long shift, staring at your phone, fighting yourself over sending a text you shouldn't be sending, but then you did.

You [10:23 PM]: "Have you left yet?"

He opened it instantly.

Jisung [10:23 PM]: "No, why?"

You could still back out or you could do the exact thing you promised yourself you wouldn't.

You [10:24 PM]: "Do you want to come over?"

The moment you hit send, a wave of shame settled in your stomach. You shouldn't want this.

Jisung [10:24 PM]: "Of course, I'm on my way."

Saturday, 2/22

Jisung was leaving soon. This thing—whatever it was, would be over, and you'd be able to return to normal.

Jisung [4:19 PM]: "I leave tomorrow. Can I come over to see you before I go?"

You read the text twice, then a third time, before finally responding.

You [4:22 PM]: "You were just here yesterday lol."

Jisung [4:23 PM]: "I know. Just want to hang out and say goodbye. Maybe we can watch a movie?"

You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head. 

You're not stupid.

You [4:24 PM]: "Right... watch a movie and say goodbye."

Jisung [4:24 PM]: "I'm serious."

You didn't believe him.

You [4:26 PM]: "Whatever, just come over."

Jisung showed up at your door, a bag of takeout in one hand, a smug grin on his lips.

"Brought food." He said simply, stepping inside.

The two of you settled onto the couch, the movie playing in the background, though neither of you were really paying attention. This was the most casual hangout you'd had since running into him weeks ago. 

Until it wasn't.

Until his hand drifted to your thigh and stayed there.

Until your gaze lingered on his lips longer than it should have.

Until his fingers traced small circles against your skin, slow and teasing, like he was daring you to acknowledge it.

And then you did.

And then his lips were on yours again.

And then you were leading him to your bedroom.

It felt like a never ending cycle, something you should have been able to stop but somehow never could.

It wasn't even about the number of times—four, maybe five. It was the way it felt natural, even when it shouldn't. Especially when you considered that this was Jisung. Your childhood best friend, the same person you could never see that way.

And yet, here you were.

Again.

You lay beside him, his arm draped lazily over your waist, the sound of his steady breathing filling the space around you. You lifted your head slightly, resting your chin against his bare chest.

"So, um." You started, voice softer than intended.

Jisung hummed, eyes barely opening as he tilted his head toward you.

"What is... this?" You asked.

His brows furrowed slightly, but he didn't look surprised.

"I don't know." He said, his voice groggy but calm. "What do you want it to be?"

You hesitated before flipping the question back on him.

"What do you want it to be?"

He let out a quiet laugh. "I asked first."

You sighed, playing with the hem of the blanket. "Well, I know that I've had a good time with you."

"I agree." He nodded.

"But."

His eyes narrowed slightly, watching you closely.

"I think we should keep this... platonic."

Jisung's lips parted slightly before he let out a short, disbelieving laugh.

"Platonic?" He scoffed. "I'm in your bed with no clothes on for the, what, third time this week—and you want to keep it platonic?"

You smirked slightly, shaking your head. "Not like that, Jisung."

His lips quirked up, but there was something else behind his expression now.

"This, but just... no titles, no relationship, no... feelings."

Jisung's grin faded for just a second. It was quick, so quick you almost missed it.

"So just friends?" He asked, voice unreadable.

"Right." You nodded, giving him a small smile.

There was a pause, then he exhaled, shaking his head with a smirk. 

"Sorry, but I thought that's what this was in the first place."

You searched his expression, trying to decipher whether or not he meant that.

"I never doubted that." You said quietly, watching the way his grin faltered just slightly. "But I just want to make sure it's in the air, that we're on the same page."

Jisung held your gaze for a second longer before nodding. "We are. No titles, no relationship, no feelings." 

"Got it." You smiled. "Now, I think it's time for you to leave." You added playfully.

Jisung clutched his chest, sucking in his teeth dramatically. "Ouch."

"Stop." You rolled your eyes. "I don't mind, but if you're anything like how you were years ago, then I know you need to go prepare to leave tomorrow."

"Whatever." He sighed, getting out of bed and getting dressed.

You walked him to the door, leaning against the frame as he lingered for a moment.

"When am I gonna see you again?" He asked.

"I could ask you the same question."

Jisung tilted his head slightly. "No clue." He frowned a little, then forced a small smile. "But I'll at least try to come for your birthday in a few weeks."

Your eyes flickered in surprise.

"You—"

"Remembered?" He raised an eyebrow. "Yes."

A small smile tugged at your lips.

"Hey, you can't blame me." You teased.

Jisung gave you a long look, like he wanted to say something—something you didn't want to hear. Instead, he exhaled through his nose and nodded.

"Safe travels and good luck with your band." You said.

"Thank you. I'll text when I make it back."

You paused, then nodded. "Cool."

"Cool?" He repeated.

"Yes Jisung. Goodbye."

He chuckled. "See you later."

Sunday, 2/23

Back to routine. Same shift. Same uniform, except this time, your phone buzzed.

Jisung [11:45 AM]: "Hey, I made it back. Whatchu up to?"

══════════════════════════

It was the usual tonight—customers flooding in, the hours passing by, keeping you busy.

By the time closing rolled around, it was just you and Haechan, wiping down the counters, stacking chairs, and finishing up the last of your closing duties.

"Happy birthday Y/n!" Haechan suddenly spoke, glancing at his watch before flashing you a grin.

You looked up from the register, momentarily surprised before smiling. "Thank you."

"What are you doing tomorrow—well, technically today?" He corrected.

"Just going out with family." You replied.

"Oh, nice." He nodded, setting the last of the clean glasses in place before turning to you. "You know, it's funny—I could've just brought your gift today."

You giggled, shaking your head. "Yeah, I don't know why you didn't."

"Guess I wasn't thinking." He admitted with a small chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're still working tomorrow, right?"

"No? It's my birthday tomorrow." You replied, stretching your arms with a grin.

Haechan cocked his head at you. "It's your birthday today."

You blinked, realizing he was right. Midnight had already passed.

"Oh, right." You laughed at yourself. "Sorry, my brain's fried."

"You need sleep." He teased. "But that means, yes—you're working tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'll be here." You confirmed.

Haechan grinned. "Then I'll bring your gift tomorrow. The boss said I can work, so it's just gonna be the two of us."

"Sounds good to me."

With that, you finished closing up, locked the doors, and parted ways for the night.

The moment you stepped into your apartment, exhaustion finally hit you. You kicked off your shoes, sighing as you tossed your keys onto the counter, but before you could even change, your phone buzzed from inside your bag.

Jisung [1:07 AM]: "Happy birthday."

You smiled a little before responding.

You [1:08 AM]: "Thank you!"

A few seconds later, another message popped up.

Jisung [1:08 AM]: "I'll be there soon to take you out."

You [1:09 AM]: "Not today, already got something planned."

He didn't respond right away, but when he did, it was short.

Jisung [1:10 AM]: "Noted. I'll lyk."

You exhaled softly, locking your phone.

The past few weeks with Jisung had been... unexpected.

You weren't together, but somehow he was more present in your life than ever. You called each other almost every day, talking until one of you fell asleep. You texted constantly, sometimes about everything, sometimes about nothing. Even at work you found yourself sneaking replies between shifts, only to find out he was doing the same, sending you snippets of whatever he was recording or doing that day. So it wasn't really a surprise when your phone rang again the next day later that afternoon, just a few hours before your shift.

"How can I help you Jisung?" You said, holding the phone between your shoulder and ear.

"Ouch." He gasped dramatically. "That is not how you greet the person taking you out tonight."

"Well, thank god you're not the person taking me out tonight, because I have work."

"Y/n, no." He groaned, dragging out the word in a whine.

"Jisung, yes." You mocked his tone. "There's nothing I can do about it."

"Can't you take off? Get someone to cover you?" His voice had shifted from dramatic to genuinely pleading now. "I leave tomorrow, I have work to handle. I have a job, remember?"

"Yes, I remember. Do you remember that I have one too?"

"Please Y/n." His voice softened, making you rethink your decision. "I'm coming for you, to spend a birthday with you—something I haven't done in a while. Let me."

You paused, your lips parting slightly. A long silence stretched between you both before you finally exhaled.

"Let me call you back."

"Y/n, wait—"

"Shh, I'll call you back." You hung up before he could argue.

You scrolled through your contacts, clicking on Haechan's name. The phone rang a few times before he picked up.

"What's up?" He answered, his voice slightly winded like he'd been running around.

"Are you busy?" You asked.

"Yeah, a little, just at work. What's up?"

You bit your lip. "Do you think you can cover me tonight?"

The line went quiet.

You frowned slightly waiting for a response, but when he finally spoke, his voice was noticeably different.

"Um... I don't know. I'll be by myself on a Friday night, that's a lot."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. You were just the first person I thought of." You admitted. "But you could find someone else to help, right?"

"I could, but it's gonna be hard on such short notice."

"Maybe not." You countered. "People always want extra shifts. I got covered ten minutes before a shift once."

There was another pause.

"Right." He murmured, his tone unreadable.

Guilt spread through your stomach. "I'm sorry, these birthday plans are severely last minute. You can totally say no if you want—"

"Ok."

You blinked. "Ok?"

"I'll cover you tonight." He said, his voice forcefully light. "But you owe me."

"Oh my God, I owe you the whole world." You exclaimed, your voice almost painfully cheerful now. "Thank you Haechan, I love you for this."

"Yeah, yeah, no problem. Love you too." His voice sounded... off, but before you could linger on it, he spoke again. "I'll see you tomorrow."

You barely had time to say goodbye before he hung up. Shrugging off the weird feeling in your gut, you immediately called Jisung back.

"Oh, you actually called back." He teased as soon as he answered.

"Yeah, I did." You replied, your voice noticeably lighter now.

"You seem to be in a much better mood." He said with a hint of amusement in his tone.

"That's because you are the person taking me out tonight."

"Oh, am I?" His voice brightened, more than he probably meant for it to.

"Yes, you are."

Jisung let out a soft chuckle. "Well then, the person taking you out tonight is picking you up at six."

You smiled. "Thank you for informing me. See you then."

Jisung [5:58 PM]: "Outside. No rush, but also... hurry up."

You rolled your eyes but smiled, quickly slipping on your jacket before grabbing your phone and bag. You checked yourself in the mirror one last time, smoothing out your outfit before heading outside.

Jisung was leaning against his car, hands tucked into his pockets, his expression unreadable until he saw you, then that stupid little smirk of his appeared.

"Damn." He said, looking you up and down. "You look nice."

"Shut up." You huffed, but you were smiling as you reached for the car door.

"I mean it." He added, a little softer.

You glanced at him, your heart skipping for half a second before you quickly slid into the passenger seat. He got in after you, starting the car as music hummed through the speakers. The air smelled like his cologne, mixed with the faintest scent of vanilla from the air freshener hanging from the mirror.

"So, where are we going?" You asked, buckling your seatbelt.

"Dinner first." Jisung said, glancing over at you with a small smirk. "Gotta feed the birthday girl."

Jisung took you to a small, cozy restaurant tucked between some buildings downtown. It wasn't fancy, but it was warm, intimate, the kind of place where the lights were dim, and soft music played in the background.

The moment you walked in, he casually placed a hand on your lower back, guiding you toward a booth. It was barely anything, but it sent a small shiver up your spine.

He slid into the seat across from you, leaning back comfortably. "Alright, order whatever you want. Birthday rules."

"Birthday rules?" You raised a brow.

"Yeah, you get whatever you want, and I don't complain about the price." He grinned. "And also, you can't get mad at me for whatever dumb shit I do tonight."

You laughed, shaking your head. "We'll see about that."

When the waiter came, Jisung let you order first before he placed his, and true to his word he didn't even flinch when you went a little overboard with your choices.

"So," He said once the waiter left, propping his elbow on the table. "How's twenty three treating you so far?"

"It's only been a few hours Jisung."

"Yeah, but do you feel different?" He wiggled his brows dramatically.

"No idiot." You laughed.

"Lame." He sighed. "I was hoping for some life changing wisdom."

"You just turned twenty three a few months ago. Where's your wisdom?"

"Ah, but I'm not the birthday person today." He countered, smirking.

You shook your head, but the smile never left your face.

When the food arrived, you both dug in immediately, the conversation never slowing down. There were moments where Jisung stole food from your plate without asking, moments where you flicked a fry at him in retaliation, moments where the laughter between you felt so easy—so natural, that almost made you forget all the years you spent apart.

By the time the plates were empty, you were both comfortably full, and Jisung looked across the table with a small glint in his eyes. "You ready for the next stop?" He asked, as you nodded with a smile.

The moment you pulled into the arcades parking lot you felt the nostalgia settle in your chest.

"Holy shit." You murmured, looking around once you stepped inside.

"Feels like high school, huh?" Jisung grinned.

The arcade looked almost exactly the same as it did years ago—the flashing lights, the smell of popcorn, the sounds of tickets printing, and people shouting in excitement.

"Come on." Jisung said, already heading toward the change machine. He pulled out a couple of bills, exchanged them for tokens, and handed you a stack. "Hope you're ready to get your ass kicked."

You scoffed, stuffing the coins in your pocket. "We'll see about that."

The first game you played was air hockey. Jisung was obnoxious about it, smirking every time he scored on you.

"Damn, you used to be way better at this." He teased.

"I'm warming up." You argued, huffing as you tried to block his next shot.

Then came racing games, basketball hoops, and a whack a mole battle that ended with both of you laughing so hard you almost forgot to keep score. Everything about it felt... familiar.

Then you saw it, the claw machine. You both used to be obsessed with it.

"No way." Jisung breathed, already walking toward it. "They still have it?"

"I can't believe this thing is still standing." You added, stepping beside him.

Jisung cracked his knuckles. "Alright. If I win, you have to admit that I'm the best at everything."

"And if you lose?"

"Not possible." He smirked before inserting a token.

He almost won the first time, then failed spectacularly the second.By the third time, you were laughing so hard you had to lean against the glass.

"Shut up." He groaned, focusing harder.

And then he actually won, turning to you, holding up a small stuffed animal with a shit eating grin.

"Bow to your champion." He said.

"I hate you." You grumbled, grabbing the toy.

"No, you love me." He corrected, his voice teasing, but his eyes soft.

You swallowed, ignoring the warmth spreading through your chest. "Where to next?" You asked. 

His grin widened. "You'll see."

The last place you expected Jisung to take you was a music studio.

"Uh, why are we here?" You asked as he led you inside.

He glanced over his shoulder with a smirk. "Just trust me."

The room was dark, blue and red lighting, a few instruments scattered around, soundproofed walls, but one stuck out to you.

A guitar— his guitar, the one he would always use when you both were younger... the one you had given him as a gift. 

Jisung smiled picking it up, settling into a chair before glancing at you.

"You remember your favorite song?" He asked casually.

Your breath caught. "You remember?"

"Of course I do. I couldn't get a break from it, always asking me to play it, even though I wasn't very good." He murmured, fingers strumming the first few chords.

And then he played and it was perfect. You just sat there watching him, feeling your chest tighten. When he finished he looked up, eyes locking onto yours.

"Happy birthday." He murmured.

You didn't say anything, you couldn't. All you could do was walk over to him, stand in front of him and stare into his eyes. Then you leaned in, closing the small space between you, and pressed your lips to his in a slow kiss. His hands found your waist almost instantly, pulling you against him like he couldn't stand another inch of distance.

The moment you reached your apartment you guided him to the couch, your lips never leaving his. With a gentle push, he sank onto the cushions, and you climbed onto his lap, pulling him into another messy kiss. Then you trailed your mouth to his neck, kissing down the warm skin slowly. Soft gasps slipped from him as you explored the sensitive spot just beneath his jaw, his hands gripping you tighter with every touch.

Your hands moved down his body, eager and a little shaky as you worked to undo his pants. You freed him, wrapping your fingers around him and stroking, slow at first. Soft moans slipped from his lips, his eyes locked on you. Then you slid down between his legs, settling on your knees in front of him, your touch never leaving him.

"No, I'm supposed to be treating you for your birthday." He said, breath hitching.

"I want to." You whispered, your thumb brushing over his tip.

"But—" He started, the protest dying in his throat the moment your mouth wrapped around him, cutting him off with a choked whimper.

His head dropped back against the couch, a low groan slipping from his throat as your mouth moved around him. You took your time, letting your tongue swirl around his tip before sliding deeper, feeling him twitch against your tongue.  

His fingers clenched the edge of the couch, knuckles white. Every soft suck, every flick of your tongue pulled a new sound from him—quiet moans, hitched breaths, curses whispered under his breath.  

He looked down at you through half lidded eyes, dark and dazed. One hand reached for you threading into your hair, not to control, just to feel you.

"Fuck... you feel so good." He breathed, his voice low and wrecked.

You glanced up at him, meeting his eyes as you sank down further, cheeks hollowing around him. The moment your pace quickened his hips gave a slight helpless jerk, and he bit his lip to keep another groan from spilling out.

You kept your rhythm steady, teasing him with just enough pressure to keep him right on the edge. Every time you pulled back, you let your tongue drag along the underside of him before taking him back in, deeper each time. His thighs tensed beneath your hands, a clear sign of how hard he was trying to stay still, to not lose control.

You let out a soft hum around him and he gasped, hips twitching as the vibration shot through him, his hand tightening in your hair.

"Shit—baby, wait..." He muttered, but there was no conviction in his voice, only pleasure and desperation. His eyes fluttered shut for a second before locking back on you.

You kept your eyes on him as you picked up the pace again, your mouth moving faster, more focused. He was close, you could feel it in the way his thighs tightened beneath your hands, the way his breathing turned shallow and uneven, every soft gasp turning into a ragged moan.  

His hand gripped your hair even tighter, hips lifting just slightly.

"Fuck, I'm—" He tried to warn you, voice cracking, but he didn't get the chance to finish his sentence.

You didn't slow down, taking him deep, lips and tongue working him through it as he came hard, a broken sound tearing from his throat. His whole body tensed under your touch, breath catching as waves of pleasure crashed over him as he twitched, sinking back into the couch with a shaky exhale.

His hand loosened in your hair, fingertips brushing your cheek as he looked down at you, completely wrecked and grinning like he couldn't believe what just happened.

"This night was supposed to be about you." He murmured as he tucked himself away, then reached for you, gently pulling you up onto the couch. Before you could protest, he stood and dropped to his knees in front of you.

"I said I wanted to." You replied with a soft smile, your voice breathless as he pushed up your skirt, fingers slipping beneath the fabric to pull your underwear down to your knees.

"Mm, right." He said, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk. He hooked your legs over his shoulders, hands firm on your thighs as he leaned in. His lips brushed along your leg, leaving slow lingering kisses that traveled upward. He never looked away from you, his gaze dark as he inched closer.

Each kiss grew slower, hotter, as he neared your inner thigh, the anticipation curling tight in your stomach. He paused, just breathing against your skin, making you feel every second stretch before he finally moved in closer.

Then finally, he leaned in.

His tongue found you in one slow stroke, and your head fell back against the couch with a sharp inhale. He moved with purpose, his mouth working you open smoothly, his tongue flicking and curling just right. One of his hands slid up to press against your stomach, grounding you as the other gripped your thigh, keeping you right where he wanted you.

You moaned loudly, fingers digging into the cushions as he kept his movements steady and deep. He pulled you in closer with every stroke of his tongue, every wet, open mouthed kiss he left against you, his eyes flicking up to watch you.

"You're already shaking." He murmured between strokes, his voice rough and hungry. 

And the way he was working you, tongue pressing just right—it wasn't long before heat coiled tightly in your lower belly. Your thighs began to tremble around his shoulders, breath catching as the climax crashed through you in waves.

He didn't stop right away. He eased you through it, mouth softer now, slower, until your body finally relaxed under his touch.

When he pulled back, lips slick, he looked up at you like he could devour you all over again.

He stayed close, brushing slow kisses along your thighs, like he couldn't stop touching you, couldn't get enough. His hand slipped into yours, fingers lacing together.

After a few quiet moments, he smiled and whispered. "We should probably go to the bed." Pulling back just enough to look at you properly

You gave a smile, brushing your thumb over his cheek. "Okay."

══════════════════════════

You walked into work, setting your belongings down and stretching out your shoulders before making your way to the floor. The dim lights of the bar cast a soft glow over the counter, the scent of citrus and liquor lingering in the air from the night's previous rush. Haechan stood behind the bar finishing up with a customer, his movements slow.

When he turned toward you, his tired eyes met yours. You offered him a small smile, but instead of his usual playful smile or greeting, he just stared at you blankly.

"I'm going on break." He muttered, turning away before you could even respond.

You blinked, slightly taken aback by his tone, but shook it off and got to work. When he returned, he seemed a bit more like himself—his posture wasn't as heavy, and he spoke a little more, but the exhaustion still clung to him. His voice remained low, and he couldn't stop yawning between sentences.

"You okay?" You asked once all the customers were taken care of.

"Yeah, I'm just exhausted." He sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"It's you who really needs the break, huh?" You teased lightly, hoping to lift his mood a little.

"Yeah." He chuckled, but it was weak and forced. He turned away to wipe down the counter, avoiding your gaze.

"You're not usually this tired— what's going on?" You asked, genuinely curious now.

He hesitated for a moment before answering, still focused on the cloth in his hands.

"Well... working by myself last night didn't help." He muttered.

Your stomach twisted with guilt. "You couldn't find anyone to work with you?"

"Nope."

"Haechan, I'm seriously so sorry. Let me buy you a coffee or something."

"No, you're good." His voice was low, he wasn't mad just drained.

You let it go, working in silence beside him as the night carried on. The bar began to wind down, the crowd thinning as closing time crept closer. You stepped away for a quick break, heading to the bathroom, but as you walked back onto the floor, a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.

"I'm a big fan of yours, it's cool that I saw you around here."

Haechan's voice was animated, the tiredness gone replaced by something closer to admiration.

Your heart stuttered in your chest as you turned the corner, only to lock eyes with Jisung. You immediately stepped back behind the wall, mentally cursing to yourself.

"Thank you, I really appreciate that." Jisung replied politely before making his way toward the bar toward you.

"Y/n." He greeted you with a small grin.

You rolled your eyes. "You just love coming to my job for absolutely no reason, huh?"

Haechan glanced between the two of you with his brows raised, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten as he studied the exchange.

"Can I not want a drink?" Jisung asked, taking a seat on one of the stools directly in front of you. "Vodka lemonade, please."

His smirk was taunting, like he was enjoying the way you flared up at his presence.

"I hate you." You muttered, turning around to make his drink.

"I'm sorry, I may be missing something," Haechan cut in, moving slightly closer to you. "Do you two know each other?"

"I wish we didn't." You muttered, making sure Jisung could hear you.

He only chuckled under his breath. "You didn't say that last night."

Your face burned as you whirled around, shoving his drink toward him a little harder than necessary.

"Okay! Here you go, sir. Now please be quiet."

Haechan's confusion only deepened. He stared at you both before turning to you expectantly.

"This is Jisung." You finally said, introducing him with a tight smile.

"I know." Haechan nodded.

Then you turned to Jisung. "And this is Haechan. One of my closest friends and coworkers— also, the reason we went out last night."

Jisung smirked at you, then at Haechan. "Wow, thank you so much Haechan. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Haechan nodded back, clearly still putting the pieces together. "Yeah... you're welcome?"

Jisung leaned forward on the counter. "Y/n, quickly, hand me a pen and a napkin or something."

"You don't know how to say please anymore?"

"Please." He murmured, his voice low and breathy. The way it sounded sent a shiver down your spine.

You sighed, grabbing a napkin and a pen before handing them over. He signed quickly and slid it toward Haechan.

"I wish I could give you more, but I can't." He said, a little dramatically.

Haechan let out a small laugh, taking the napkin and tucking it into his pocket. "I still appreciate it. Thank you."

"Now." You interrupted. "I think you should be on your way."

Jisung tilted his head, his expression shifting. "I need to talk to you though."

"Well, I'll see you at home in an hour or so." You replied, attempting to brush him off.

"At home?" Jisung echoed, his brows raising slightly.

"Yes. My apartment where I reside, so it's my home. I will see you at home." You maintained your serious tone, making Jisung chuckle.

"Right, I'll see you at home." He said, sliding a $20 bill across the counter before standing up.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Haechan turned to you.

"You didn't tell me you knew the lead guitarist of Black Horizon." He said, his expression unreadable.

"I mean, it's not something you just bring up in casual conversation." You replied. "I didn't even know before you went to the concert."

Haechan narrowed his eyes slightly. "Are you two like... dating?"

"No, no." You said quickly. "Not at all. We're just friends."

Haechan studied your face. "And how did that happen?"

"We used to be best friends when we were younger." You said, but your voice was softer now.

"That's sick. Glad you stuck together, you have excellent taste in friends." He said, finally turning away.

You hummed in response, but a lump settled in your stomach. You didn't really stick together.

When you finally got home, Jisung's car was parked in front of the complex. He leaned against it, arms crossed as he watched you approach.

"Took you long enough." He sighed.

"I'm so sorry that me working is inconveniencing you." You replied sarcastically.

He let out a short laugh before rubbing the back of his neck. "Listen... there's something I need to tell you."

You paused, something about his tone making your stomach tighten.

"Are you not coming in?" You asked. 

"We both know how that's gonna turn out." He replied, his eyes a bit wide as he gave you a face.

You couldn't help but giggle before shaking your head. "Ok, what is it?"

"I'm not going to be around for a while." He said carefully. "The band's touring in another country for the next few months, and after that... we have to go straight into working on the next album."

"So... you're leaving?" You asked, voice quieter than before.

He hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, I am."

You forced a smile, though it didn't reach your eyes. "Right. Well... I guess this is goodbye."

Jisung looked at you for a long moment before sighing. "Yeah. I'll see you when I see you."

And with that, he got into his car and drove off, leaving you standing there in the dim glow of the streetlights, watching him disappear all over again.

══════════════════════════

Jisung had been gone for a few months now, but it never really felt like he had left. 

No matter where he was, no matter how far, you never failed to call, never missed a day to text. Sometimes it was just a simple "good morning" or a half asleep voice memo when one of you were too tired to type. 

You were just about to head out the door for work when your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Jisung [5:48 pm]: "Hey, wyd?"

You glanced at the time, thumbs moving across the screen as you typed back.

You [5:51 pm]: "About to head to work, what's going on?"

Jisung [5:52 pm]: "I won't bother you, just have a good day at work."

You frowned at the message, pausing with one hand on the doorknob. He never texted like that.

You [5:54 pm]: "That's a first lol. Seriously, is everything okay? I'm getting worried."

Jisung [5:55 pm]: "Yea everything's cool. I was just curious lol."

Your brows furrowed as you stared at the screen for a second longer. You knew Jisung well enough to tell when something was off, but you didn't have time to pick at it right now. With a small huff, you slipped your phone back into your pocket and headed out.

The bar was already buzzing with low chatter and music by the time you arrived. Haechan greeted you with his usual smirk, wiping down a glass absentmindedly. These days, you and him had grown closer. 

"How's the night been so far?" You asked, setting your bag down and tying your apron.

Haechan leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter. "Here by myself, no one to talk to, so not so good. Thanks for asking."

You blinked at him, tilting your head. "No, Haechan."

He gave you an innocent look. "No, what?"

You giggled, shaking your head. "I meant the customers— is it busy?"

His mouth fell open in fake shock. "Oh, I thought you were checking up on me. You know, because I was working alone and you were late."

You stared at him with narrowed eyes as he barely held in a laugh.

"I was only five minutes late."

"Ah, time is money, money is time. Get to work." He said, tossing a cloth in your direction.

You caught it mid air with a dramatic sigh, looking at him before fluttering your eyes, your voice sweeter. "Haechan, don't be like that."

He stared at you for a second unimpressed before scoffing. "Whatever. We get it, you're pretty, just occupy yourself."

The shift passed in a blur. Eventually, the rush died down, and the atmosphere grew quieter, more relaxed. This was always one of your favorite part of the night—the moment where you and Haechan had the most fun.

"You're wiping oddly slow." Haechan noted, watching you over your shoulder.

You turned, leaning against the counter. "And you're talking oddly fast... and a lot."

"Oh, I'm talking a lot?" He said, smirking.

"Yeah, you're talking a lot. Do your job."

"Oh yeah? I need to do my job?" He poked your side suddenly, making you jolt.

"Haechan, stop." You giggled, twisting away as his finger jabbed at your ribs.

"Am I interrupting something?"

The deep voice cut through the air, sending a jolt down your spine. You turned quickly, your stomach sinking as your eyes landed on the figure sitting at the bar, his hat pulled low.

"Jisung?"

He tilted his head up slightly, his face partially shadowed, but you could see the his expression.

Haechan glanced between the two of you before nodding to himself. "I have to go do something, I'll leave you two." His voice was casual, but as he moved past you, his hand brushed your waist—subtle, but noticeable.

Jisung's gaze followed him, a flicker of something passing through his eyes.

"Hm, that was weird." He muttered, finally looking back at you.

You hesitated for a second before shaking your head with a small laugh. "Jisung, what are you doing here? You didn't tell me you were coming back."

"It was a surprise." He leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the counter before nodding toward where Haechan had disappeared. "You know, this doesn't seem too professional."

You blinked before realizing what he meant. A smirk tugged at your lips. "Jisung, are you jealous?"

His eyes flickered up to yours, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

"No." He replied simply, but the way his fingers drummed against the counter told a different story.

You grinned, leaning in just slightly. "Mhm, sure."

Jisung huffed, shaking his head, but there was something softer in his expression now.

"You're back." You said, voice quieter now. "I missed you."

"Did you really?" He murmured, the corner of his lips curling up a bit against his will. 

You nodded, offering a small smile. "Yeah."

Jisung let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. "Well... I guess I missed you too."

You rolled your eyes pretending to be unimpressed, but deep down warmth spread through your chest.

"So." Jisung said, tilting his head. "Are you gonna serve me a drink, or do I have to watch you flirt with your coworkers all night?"

"Jealous." You smirked elongating the word, reaching for a glass.

"No." He said, but this time his voice lacked conviction, and somehow that made you smile even more.

"Ah, right." You giggled, sliding him the drink. "Well, I'm glad you came to visit." 

And after, that became the routine. Jisung would do whatever he had to do during the day, but at night he was here. 

First, it was just stopping by for a drink. Then, it was sitting there while you and Haechan closed everything out and of course, it always ended the same way—going home with you after work.

You never talked about it, but the pattern was clear. The moment you locked up for the night he'd be waiting, shoulders relaxed, an expectation between the two of you.

Tonight though, something was off.

Jisung never showed up before closing, so you didn't think much of it. You did what you always did—finished cleaning up with Haechan and got lost in conversation and somehow, that conversation led back to Jisung.

"Can you tell your boyfriend to hurry up and drop the album? I'm craving some new yearning music." Haechan teased, leaning on the counter with an amused grin.

"Oh, my boyfriend?" You scoffed, tossing the rag over your shoulder. "You like him more than I do. He's your boyfriend."

"I wish." He muttered, eyes widening playfully before bursting into laughter.

"Ew, Haechan oh my god." You nearly choked on your own laughter.

"I'm just saying." He shrugged, still grinning.

Before you could respond, the door swung open with a sharp creak.

"Sorry, we're closed." Haechan called out without glancing towards the person, the two of you still giggling.

"You do not want Jisung as a boyfriend." You joked, turning back to wipe the counter, only for the smirk on your face to vanish completely when your eyes locked onto him.

Your stomach dropped. Jisung stood there, his frame relaxed, his face unreadable, but there was something sharp in his gaze as he stared at you.

"Ouch." He said.

You froze. Your mind scrambled between apologizing or pretending nothing happened, but no words came out.

"Welp." Haechan placed a hand on your shoulder, glancing between the two of you. "You got that."

With that, he disappeared into the back, leaving you and Jisung standing in a thick, suffocating silence.

Jisung took a step forward, resting his hands in his pockets. "You're not gonna say hello?" His brows lifted slightly.

You swallowed. "Hello."

"Hello." He stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. "You don't want me as a boyfriend?"

"That was a joke, we were just joking." You forced out, letting out a nervous laugh, though your voice cracked slightly.

Jisung tilted his head. "Oh, so you do want me as a boyfriend?"

"No." Your answer was immediate, his expression faltering for a second. "We already talked about this, so you know the answer to that."

"Right." He nodded, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek before finally dropping into a seat at the counter. "I want a vodka lemonade."

"Well, you're gonna have to get that from somewhere else. You heard Haechan, we're closed."

Jisung exhaled dramatically. "Ah, bummer." He clicked his tongue. "Forgot we follow Haechan's rules now."

Your eyes narrowed slightly as you leaned in, elbows resting on the counter. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean, he's all you talk about these days— Haechan this, Haechan that."

You blinked. "Well, I talk to him a lot."

"You talk to me too." He countered, fingers tapping against the counter. "Do you talk about me that much?"

You smirked. "You just heard me talking about you."

Jisung went quiet for a moment, staring at you before shrugging. "I guess."

Before you could say anything, Haechan peeked out from the back. "Am I intruding?"

You smiled. "No, of course not."

Jisung shot you a look before dropping his gaze to the counter.

Haechan grinned. "Sorry to say, but I kinda expected you to come tonight, so I brought a CD."

Your brows lifted. "Where did you even get that from?"

"I've had it." He shrugged. "Do you think you could sign it? It would mean the world to me."

Jisung barely lifted his head. "No, not allowed."

Bullshit. He just told you a few days ago he spent fifteen minutes signing things for fans after getting swarmed.

You grabbed the CD and marker from Haechan, slamming them onto the counter in front of Jisung. "Sign it."

His eyes lifted, visibly irritated. "I can't." His voice was louder now.

"Jisung." Your tone was firm. "Sign it."

His jaw clenched before he snatched the marker aggressively, yanking the cap off and scribbling his signature harshly across the CD, before shoving it back at you.

"Since you're gonna fucking die without it." He said pushing back from the counter, storming toward the door, shoving it open and leaving.

Haechan sighed. "I didn't need it if he couldn't do it."

"He's fine." You forced a smile, handing him the CD and marker.

Haechan gave you a look. "You can go talk, if you need to."

"If that's okay with you."

"Yeah, go ahead."

You stepped outside, and the scent of cigarettes instantly surrounded you.

"I know you're still here you big crybaby." You rounded the corner, finding Jisung leaning against the wall, cigarette dangling between his fingers.

He exhaled slowly, eyes meeting yours.

"What the fuck was that?" You asked, arms crossing.

He stubbed out his cigarette against the wall. "What's going on with you and that guy?"

You groaned. "What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about." He said, pushing off the wall. "He's all you've been talking about on the phone, now this?"

"Jisung, will you relax?" You said, shaking your head.

"You fucking him or something?"

"That's none of your business."

"I feel like it is though." He shot back. "We have sex—unprotected sex. If you're out whoring around, I need to know that."

You scoffed. "Whoring around? I'm the one whoring around? Don't act all innocent Jisung, I know you fuck other people."

"I don't." He said, stepping closer. "You're the only one."

"Not anymore since I'm such a whore apparently." You said, turning around from him, beginning to walk away.

"I never said that."

You turned, exasperated. "You literally just did."

"Ok look, I'm sorry— but I asked you a question, all you had to do was answer."

"I don't have to do anything." Your voice shook. "We're not together. I don't owe you anything. I don't owe you an explanation. If you're scared I'm whoring around then leave or shut up and get over it."

Silence. 

His eyes locked onto yours. You stormed toward him, inches from his face.

"Stop looking at me with that stupid face."

Jisung didn't move.

"Say something."

His lips parted. "I don't owe you any explanation."

Your breathing was heavy, your chest ached, fingers clenched into fists, but before you could react his hands grabbed your waist, pulling you in. His lips crashed onto yours, swallowing whatever words you had left and you melted instantly, fingers tangling in his hair. 

His hands tightened, pushing you against the wall, the cold brick cooling your hot back. The kiss was rough, his tongue brushing against yours, his grip possessive.

It wasn't enough.

Jisung broke away, breathless. "Car. Now."

You nodded, and in seconds, you were following him to the parking lot.

When you slid into the backseat, you barely had a moment to settle before he was on you, lips crashing onto yours once more.

His hands found the hem on your shirt, pulling it over your head. His hands lingered back up, landing on your jaw as he pushed your head up roughly, moving  down to your neck, kissing roughly before sucking, leaving markings in his wake. 

You moaned softly as his hand slid down your body. He unbuttoned your jeans quickly, tugging them down to your knees along with your underwear in the cramped space of the car. The cool air hit your thighs, but his hands were warm.

He brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them slowly while his eyes stayed locked on yours. Then he reached down, parting your folds and running his slick fingers through you, dragging them over your clit before slipping one inside you without warning.

You gasped, your head hitting the back of the seat. He didn't ease in, thrusting hard and fast, his thumb pressing tight circles against your clit. His finger curled just right, hitting that spot again and again knuckle deep, wet sounds filling the space between your moans.

Your hips bucked into his hand, head thrown back and eyes closed chasing every stroke, every flick of his thumb. You were already close, your body clenching around him, desperate for more.

"Look at me." He said, voice low and rough, just before sliding another finger inside you. The stretch made you cry out, your back arching as he moved them fast.

"I'm gonna cum." You gasped, your body already tightening around him, but just as your climax started to rise, his pace slowed.

Your breath caught. "Why are you stopping?"

His eyes narrowed, tone sharp and possessive. "What's going on with you and that guy?"

"Jisung, what are you—" You started, but he cut you off with a sharp thrust of his fingers, rough and deep, forcing a whimper from your throat.

"Tell me." He said.  "And I might let you finish."

"Jisung, please." You begged, hips bucking, you were so close it hurt.

"Then talk or I'll stop." He said. 

His fingers sped up again, sending you right back to the brink, but his eyes stayed locked on yours, demanding an answer.

"We're just friends. I—I don't like him." You cried out, your head hitting the window as your body trembled under his touch.

"Oh yeah?" He said, darkly amused, his free hand wrapping around your throat pulling you back to him, forcing your eyes on his. "Say it again."

"We're just friends." You gasped, breath hitching as his fingers moved faster inside you.

"I thought it wasn't any of my business." He taunted, voice low and rough. His fingers curled deep, hitting that perfect spot that made your whole body jerk. "What changed?"

"I'm sorry—fuck, I'm gonna—" You could barely speak, the pleasure overwhelming as your stomach coiled tight, your legs beginning to shake.

"Are you?" He said, leaning in closer, his grip on your neck tightening just enough to make you dizzy. His face hovered just inches from yours, lips parted, eyes locked on the way yours fluttered shut.

"Yes." You gasped out, barely holding it together. Your orgasm hit hard, rolling through your body in waves as he kept going, thrusting into you fast and deep, fingers soaked.

"He'll never make you feel like I do." He whispered, watching your face as you came undone for him. "Never."

Your body slumped back against the seat, chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. The windows were fogged, your skin still flushed and tingling, your thighs sticky and trembling.

Jisung stayed close, his hand finally slipping out of you, fingers glistening. He looked down at them for a second, then wiped them slowly on your inner thigh teasingly. His other hand loosened around your neck, thumb brushing over the spot where he had held you, gentler now.

Neither of you said anything for a moment. The only sound was your ragged breathing.

Jisung leaned back slightly, eyes still on you as he slid his hand off your thigh.

"Go get your stuff so we can take this someplace else." He said quietly.

You blinked, still trying to steady yourself.

He smirked. "You've got five minutes, don't make me come in there."

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(Part two)- read here

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[yumelatte]

His Highness, Your Meowjesty - Chapter Two

Guard Cat

As the car’s headlights flashed in your eyes, you thought of one thing: In your next life, you wanted to be rich. You had said that, but you didn’t want to be a cat!

In which you wake up in the body of a cat with your past memories and befriend the kingdom’s crown prince, Mydei.

Fantasy Isekai AU

AO3 Link

Masterlist

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Slowly regaining consciousness, your eyes opened, surprised at the sharp vision of the dark room. 

That was right; you were a cat, and as one, your eyes were better than humans. 

You didn’t realize it had become so late. 

So much for a nap. It was more like a sleep. 

Standing up from your comfortable spot, you stretched out your body to alleviate the tension in your limbs. 

The uncovered window provided faint moonlight to the dimmed place, and you wondered why there were no barriers. 

Wasn’t it dangerous to leave it open like that? 

You pondered that question, staring at Mydei’s peaceful expression while tilting your head. 

He doesn’t seem concerned about it, so neither should you. 

Maybe your new owner had no enemies. That was a welcoming thought because if he had no enemies, that means no one would try to kill you. You could live a long and prosperous life being his feline companion. 

Purring at the realization that you have chosen well, you hopped off Mydei’s chest and nimbly landed on the floor. 

It wouldn’t hurt to familiarize yourself with your surroundings; after all, this was where you were going to be living the rest of your life. 

Observing the different furniture in a new perspective was weird, but you mapped them out in case you needed the knowledge. 

As you explored the rest of the area, your ears twitched, hearing a slight noise coming from the window. 

They say curiosity killed the cat, but you say satisfaction brought it back. 

Blending in with the shadows and sneaking your way over to under the wall’s opening, you remained there, patiently waiting to hear more. 

After a moment, you heard something… or someone…

With your ears perked up, you heard indistinct voices coming from outside. 

“Did you bring everything?” 

“Yeah, do you think I’m dumb or something?” 

“Yeah, I do. Last time, you forgot to bring the knife. How do we kill without a weapon? That was embarrassing. We had to retreat.” 

“Well, we have our hands, don’t we?” 

“Yeah, and I’d like to see you choke out someone like him without him waking up.” 

Assassins? This late in the night? No… 

You had been wrong; Mydei did have enemies, and they were at his doorstep.

No, you couldn’t let them take him away from you! He was your saving grace from the streets. You need to stop them right now. 

Pressing yourself against the wall, you waited until they stepped foot into the room. 

Once you saw feet, you swiftly darted to stand in their way. 

Not expecting an obstacle, one of them fell to the floor, pulling the other with them, and they both landed with a huge thud. 

“Ow!”

Turning around, you hoped Mydei heard the loud ruckus, but his form was unmoving and unaffected—sleeping soundly. 

…How can this guy sleep this well knowing his life was constantly at threat? How did he survive this far? 

“You clumsy HKS. Why did you fall and take me with you?” 

“It wasn’t on purpose. There was something in my way.” 

“What was it?” 

Their eyes adjusted to the darkness, seeing a small shape before them—you. 

Realizing you’ve been seen, you arched your back, hissing to try to alert your owner, making noisy meows. 

If he didn’t wake up from the sound of them falling, he probably wouldn’t wake up from your noise, but there was an attempt. 

“What the? Since when did he have such a disgusting animal?” 

Disgusting? You were very dignified, thank you very much. 

“Let’s just kill it and be on with it.” 

“First time I’m agreeing with you.” 

One of the assassins made a swing with their knife and you dodged it with your quick reflexes, scratching their hand with your claw.

“Y'ouch!” 

The other one tried to grab you by ducking down with outstretched arms. 

Easily moving out of the way, you slipped through their legs and sprinted towards Mydei in hopes of waking him up. 

But before you could reach the blonde man, you felt pressure at your scruff. 

Crap!

Letting out a hiss, you struggled as the hand maneuvered you to face your capturer, unable to move because of your weak spot. 

“Got it. Now we can deal with it.” 

You weren’t going to go down without a fight. It didn’t matter if your movements were restricted, your mouth could still move.

Loudly meowing, you continued to make their lives harder.

Mydei, please wake up! You refused to believe he wasn’t awake with all the commotion. 

“Can you hurry and shut it up? We’re running out of time…”

“Too late.” 

A familiar unamused voice rang out, silencing the intruders. 

The assassin that was holding you, dropped you at the unexpected noise, cowering when they realized the person they were trying to dispose of was wide awake.

Landing on your feet, you rushed behind Mydei’s legs, hissing at them from your cover. 

Finally, your savior! Show them, Mydei! If you were in your human form, you would be sticking out your tongue in victory. 

Mydei towered over the two trespassers, darkly staring them down with crossed arms. 

“Trespassing on royal grounds. Do you know the consequences?” 

“...Uh, yes…” they dumbly let out. 

Shaking his head, Mydei frowned, “If you two know what it is, you should know better. I am letting you go, but know that I am not doing it for your sake. It is for mine.” 

Nodding without another word, they returned from where they came from—the window. 

And you were bewildered at their obedience. It was as if they had gone through this same song and dance before. 

Wondering what that was all about, you weaved through Mydei’s legs to sit before him, meowing for his attention. 

You wanted to ask him if he had done this before, but all you could do was make cat noises. 

Damn your inability to speak. Losing your way of communicating greatly pained you; however, you weren’t sure if Mydei was ready to see your human side. Also, you weren’t sure if you were ready for the process. 

What a way to change between forms…

Picking you up, Mydei held you outstretched before him, scanning you for any injuries. “You are quite the brave one, Kitty. Might be more than a lion.” 

You knew. You wanted to protect him. “Meow.” 

Suspiciously looking at you, he asked, “Do you understand me?” 

Yes. “Meow.” 

Slightly laughing with a glint in his eye, Mydei admitted, “If you do, your efforts in defending me were not in vain. I must confess I was awake the whole time. I wanted to know why you ran off from me in these late hours. I had thought you were proving the merchant’s belief to be true, but you are just a naturally curious creature, aren’t you?” 

Your cat instincts were hard to ignore… “Meow…” 

“Don’t worry about me. I have gone through these attempts many times before. I am used to it. Luckily, they were all amateurs.” 

But you didn’t want him to go through it anymore. “Meow.” 

“Are you on my side?” 

Yes, no doubt about it. He saved you from being a stray and from those people even if he waited before coming to your rescue. Besides, you wanted to live comfortably, so getting on his good side would be beneficial to you. “Meow!” 

“Then let us head back to sleep.” 

No complaints here. Purring as he carried you to the mattress, you nuzzled into his arms. God, he was so warm and inviting. 

Mydei climbed back onto the soft material, gently depositing you besides him. 

Softly petting you, he wished you a good night. “Sweet dreams, Kitty.” 

Curling up against him to steal his heat, you didn’t stop rumbling until you fell unconscious.

You could get used to this life, assassins and all—as long as his hand never leaves you. 

“Eurypon!” 

An enraged woman marched her way through the intricate hallways of the palace towards the throne room with a purpose. 

A bored man drifted his eyes over to her as she slammed open the doors, anger as clear as day on her face. 

“There was another assassination attempt on our son, and you are not doing anything about it? Do you not care for him?” Anguish evident in her voice. 

“Hah, another one? Mydeimos is old enough to handle those problems on his own. You are just coddling him.” Dismissive. Cold. 

She fought. “How can you say that of our own flesh and blood? Where is the man I married at the Kremnos Festival?”

He deflected. “I am still the same man. Now, I have different priorities.” 

“And what are they? Tell me. What is more important than our family?” 

“Gorgo, please. There are more pressing matters to attend to than some lowly peasants trying to kill a grown man capable of returning the favor tenfold.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like expanding our territory and strengthening our numbers.” 

Gorgo couldn’t believe her ears, disbelief crossing her expression. Those were more important than keeping their son safe and alive? She couldn’t stay in this room any longer. 

With no room for argument, she firmly stated, “This is not the end of this discussion.” Retreating for now, Gorgo stomped back to the hallway, fuming at her husband’s behavior. 

Mydeimos—Mydei—was their kin, her precious son. If he was taken away from her by such force, then she would have failed as a mother. 

These assassination attempts… Gorgo had a hunch that Eurypon was behind it, but she had no proof except for his nonchalant attitude. 

…How can she obtain evidence? 

Gnawing on her fingers, she was too focused on formulating a plan to hear Mydei greet her. 

“—ther.” 

Think, Gorgo, think. There must be some way to get her hands on incriminating proof. 

“—other.” 

Biting her lip, she groaned in frustration. She had no way of exposing her husband…

“Mother!” 

Hearing her son, she quickly snapped out of her daze. “Mydei?” 

He was standing before her with furrowed brows and worried eyes. “Are you okay?” 

“Fine, thank you. I was just—” Cutting herself off, Gorgo took in the sight of her son with an unfamiliar creature around his shoulder—it stared right back at her, slowly blinking. 

She had never seen you before.

And she had never expected to see her son with an animal such as you. 

“You have…” Pointing, Gorgo continued, not knowing what to say. “...That is…” 

As if he forgot you were there, Mydei glanced at his shoulder, realizing you were casually lounging on him. Pausing for a moment, he thought about his next words before saying, “She was the one who saved me from the assassins last night.” 

A mere cat saving her son? How silly, but she will humor it, wondering how it came to be with him. 

“Did you name it?” 

“Kitty.” 

Furrowing her brows, she frowned. “That is no name for someone who saved your life.” With a hand on her chin, she studied you—you matched her gaze. 

You are technically a kitty, but you deserve an actual name. 

She wrung her thoughts for a name, carefully thinking. 

Hm, what about… no…

…This then…? 

No, it didn’t fit you. 

How about…

Finally, Gorgo said your name—your name from before you woke up here, and she could have sworn your eyes brightened at her suggestion. 

Mydei tested your name on his tongue, savoring the sound.

Nodding in approval, he agreed with his mother. “I like it. She will be called that from now on.” He scratched your head while repeating your name to you, and you purred as one of your eyes kept itself on Gorgo. 

You seemed to be more intelligent than you let on. 

Maybe…

An idea sparked in her mind. 

“Mydei, may I borrow her for a moment?” 

Stopping his hand with you protesting with a brief meow, Mydei looked at her with confusion, unsure of his mother’s intentions. “Why?” 

“Please! She’s adorable. I want to spend some time with her.” 

“But I have not spent much time with her either…” 

“She’s yours, so you will.” 

Defeatedly sighing, Mydei conceded, removing you from your perch on his shoulders to give you to Gorgo. “I will be outside if you need me.” 

Not lifting her eyes off you, she nodded, acknowledging him. 

Mydei walked away, and Gorgo dashed to her separate room with you letting out a surprised sound at her enthusiasm. 

Once in a safe spot and away from prying ears, she plopped you on a chair across from her. 

Clearly saying your name, she watched for your reaction. 

With you resting on your front two paws, you readily responded, “Meow.” 

Gorgo hadn’t been lying; you were very cute. 

Smiling, she lightly tapped you on your nose, and you let her. “You’re smarter than you let on, huh?” 

“Meow.” 

“Mydei says you saved him last night. Is that true?” 

“Meow.” 

“I must thank you for that. Even if it’s not true, I can tell you probably did your best to protect him—call it intuition.” 

“Meow!”

That last noise sounded a bit proud. You were so darn adorable; no wonder Mydei took a liking to you. 

Holding back a laugh, she politely asked, “May I ask you for a favor?” 

Tilting your head, you made an inquisitive sound between a chirp and a meow. 

“...I have a sneaking suspicion Mydei’s father is the one behind the attempts on his life. May I ask you to watch over Mydei and keep an eye out for Eurypon’s schemes?” 

To her surprise, you nodded, throwing her off and having her question if she correctly saw that.

Rubbing her eyes, Gorgo looked at you again. “I must be going crazy…” 

A cat that understands human language? Preposterous. 

You shook your head as if you disagreed with her.

More likely than she thought… and the notion you were not an ordinary feline briefly popped into her mind. 

“...What are you?” 

You blankly stared at her, not giving anything away. 

Of course, if you were anything but a cat, you wouldn’t want her to know. The fact still stands that you had tried to help her son, and you were agreeing to continue to do so.

Understanding your kind intent, she reasoned, “Well, as long as you are on Mydei’s side…” 

Sliding a hand over her face, she couldn’t help but be stressed over recent events. 

Sensing her distress, you jumped off the chair, going over to her.

Feeling a nudge at her feet, Gorgo looked down to see you, asking for permission to go up with two paws on her knees.

Gorgo patted her lap, and with you taking it as a sign, you quickly hopped up, curling into a ball and parking yourself there. 

She continuously ran her hand down your back in a petting motion, feeling some tension release from her shoulders. 

At this point, you thrived from being doted on.

Closing her eyes and relaxing at this therapeutic act, she softly thanked you, “I needed this. Thank you, Mydei’s little guard cat.” 

And well, you guessed you are now.

[hyunsibae]

—Devil’s naive angel

˚ A single sniff was enough to make your sex drive go crazy, only thing is, he wasn’t as brave and put together as he seemed.

— — — — — —

Somehow you were naive to his little antics, his touches, the looks, flirty remarks, and the way he’d hold your hand. Those eyes often shooting your way. You were so used to being affectionate with your girl best friends that you really didn’t mind it with your guy best friend.

Plus, he wasn’t just anyone, he’d help you through your classes and would occasionally stop by your dorm to check out your condition. So naive that you wouldn’t have seen him sniffing your underwear and constantly adjusting himself while you were getting him a drink from the fridge.

He didn’t know that you wouldn’t take so long today, you’d hurry out in excitement and finally see his palm cupping his throbbing cock through his pants with your pink laced underwear close to his flaring nostrils. “J-jakie…?” You didn’t drop the glass, you didn’t look too shocked, you were just confused.

He dropped them quick with pink tinted cheeks, he tried to explain but you weren’t having it. “Y/n I can explain, t-this isn’t what it-“ He was cut short of his words. “Is this what you do every time you come here?” He sighed to himself, trying to make the situation better than what it was but saving himself was long overdue at this point.

“Listen i-“

“Yes or no.”

“Yes”

You sat down the bottle of water, your cheeks tinting as well with the thoughts that flowed in your head. You waited for a day like this- or some similar opportunity to be able to do this. Taking off pajama shorts you were wearing, the tight fabric he’d been eyeing since he first got there.

The underwear he’d been holding onto tightly were fallen onto the ground, jaw dropped loose out of flabbergastion. He knew he was sly and maybe had desire too deep for him to come clean from, but he wasn’t this brave. Not as brave as he thought, watching your figure go from clothed to naked. Your curves perfectly in sight.

It didn’t take an hour for you to decide what you wanted, it took your first orgasm during your senior year of highschool to figure out that you needed your turn. Not just fingers shoved inside barely leaving enough imagination to what it’d really feel like, not some fake plastic toy. You needed cock— no— his cock.

In a matter of minutes you’d make that clear, straddling him on the couch with your knee on either side of his thighs, positioning yourself right above his cock. He holds you still, interrupting your careful movements. “Are you sure about this? I- I don’t wanna-“ Your mouth collided with his, tongue daring to reach past those plump lips of his. Feeling his hands soften around you, now given the perfect chance to quickly slide down.

You both moaned in unison, breathless kissing as you began to move above him. The simple tease, rolling your hips was just enough to make him shutter. Who knew he’d get like this? His thick head had been pushed past your pussy lips, he was buried deeply inside of you. You’d taken every inch of him without a single trace of fear in your eyes. Your mouth pulled away from the steaming kiss as your head fell back with the grinding circles of your hips.

His breathing had gotten heavier with the simplest act of being surrounded by cunting flesh. Jake’s arms were tightly wrapped around you with his face in your neck, ears bright red as his grunts and groans were muffled through marking bites. He’d become so clingy and… needy— “fuuu…~ just like that— yeah just like that~”

You leaned forward with your palms spread across his chest, hips bouncing, while skin clapped together through sticky sweat as your tight cunt had currently been choking him nearly to insanity. “Like that? Or…-“ You slightly shook your shoulder, forcing his eyes to lock with yours as you sit up straight, allowing his cock to drive deeper inside you.

His instincts took over, unable to allow himself to sit back anymore. Even before this, when you were removing your tight pajamas, he knew you weren’t an angel. He knew you were just another dirty minded introvert who probably needed a good fuck. He was right, look at the way you were bouncing on him.

He just couldn’t believe his eyes, your red bitten lip and scrunched up face. Head thrown back as you just tried your best to keep control and find better angles with his cock. Hands sneaking to your breasts, giving them a slight squeeze just to hear you whiny cry. They soon find their way to your hips and soon found his own hips thrusting up. Your head moved forward into his chest with breathless pants.

You both felt that knot, the one that hinted to your release, the orgasm that’d make you shake, and the cum that’d fill your cunt just to leak right out. He’s hitting it fast and almost uncontrollably, your tempted body arches its back before releasing rough tremble. You throat slips out a moan as he slams into you one last time.

A struggled groan coming from the both of you, body heated against each as you tried to wave out the pleasure some more with desperate grinds before letting go. “Next time don’t sniff my underwear, your nose could be more useful for something else..”

“Liking holding your pussy close to my face? Yeah?” His voice a bit huskier.

“Yeah~”

-

-

-

[nightcourtnovels]

Little Matchmaker

Azriel x reader (Part 4)

Summary: Reader and Azriel finally go on a real date before he leaves the Day Court.

A/N: This ones a big of a long one… all fluff tho straight fluff. Also can be read as a stand alone)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stood in front of the mirror, staring at yourself with a mix of excitement and dread, the bedroom was a battlefield of dresses and tossed accessories. Your best friend sat on the edge of the bed, eyeing the chaos with a grin.

“Sit,” Selene commanded, tossing a few dresses on the bed before smoothing down the sheets like she was preparing a royal display. “We need to make you look irresistible. You’re going out with a bat boy. I’ve always wondered if the rumors are true… about those wingspans you know.”

Groaning, you threw a pillow at her. “You are not helping.”

“Oh, I’m helping,” she smirked, tossing the pillow back. “I’m riling you up so you don’t chicken out. Come on, look at this dress. It’s literally the color of his siphons.”

You settled in front of the mirror, trying to breathe past the nerves while Selene fussed with your hair.

“You look beautiful,” she said softly, stepping closer and adjusting the delicate necklace around your neck. “Seriously. If he doesn’t fall head over wings for you, he’s blind.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, a bit breathless.

Selene leaned in and kissed your cheek. “I’m happy for you. Just… let yourself enjoy this. Let yourself feel it.”

A knock echoed from the front door.

Selene then raised a brow. “That’s your cue.” And with a wink, she added, “Have fun. Get cozy. If this thing works out, I expect an invite to the City of Starlight. You get Azriel as your brooding tour guide, and I’ll explore the shops and flirt with mysterious artists. Win-win.”

Laughing you headed towards the door, trying to ignore the nerves in your chest.

When you opened it, there he was—shadows curling lazily around him, his dress shirt fitted just perfectly with a few buttons undone. Just enough to see some tattoos peaking out and that delicious looking tanned skin— You quickly snapped out of your thoughts and smiled.

“I figured I’d dress to match your aesthetic,” you said with a playful smirk, running a hand down the fabric.

Azriel’s lips twitched into a grin. “You look stunning.”

“And you look like trouble,” you said eyeing him from shoes to shadows. “Ready to cause some?”

“Always,” he replied, offering his arm, which you took with an amused roll of your eyes. The two of you then quickly set a good pace and quietly strolled down the streets of Day, both asking how your days went and watching the people pass by.

~~

Dinner was an experience all on its own. Azriel had taken you to a quaint restaurant tucked away in the heart of the city, the kind of place that felt timeless. The soft clinking of glasses and the quiet murmur of conversation around you only enhanced the intimate atmosphere. As you both sat down, the conversation began with the usual light chatter—talking about work, the upcoming events in Velaris, and even a few stories about your respective friends.

“So,” you said, leaning forward with a teasing smirk. “How old are you, anyway? You must be so old by now. Fighting in two wars, wow.”

Azriel huffed a quiet laugh, swirling his drink. “You think I’m that old?”

You leaned in, voice a dramatic whisper. “You feel that old. All that silence and mystery. It's giving eternal grandpa.”

He raised a brow. “I’m 540.”

You blinked, then snorted. “Okay, okay. Not as ancient as I feared. Still older than my bookshelf, though.”

He grinned. “How old is that bookshelf? A pretty face like yours can’t be too old.”

Tilting your head, you act offended. “I’m 249, thank you very much. But guess what?” Leaning closer, eyes gleaming. “In twenty days, I’ll be turning 250.”

He gave a low whistle. “Quarter of a millennium. Impressive.”

“Do you know what happens when a female turns 250?” You asked, swirling your wine glass with deliberate slowness.

Azriel's brows furrowed slightly in curiosity. “I have no idea.”

You leaned back with a dramatic sigh, your voice dropping to a playful whisper. “I become so old that no one will want me anymore,” you said, a smirk curling your lips. “So I’ll have to get a little crazy to keep them interested.”

Azriel’s eyes twinkled, his lips pulling into a teasing grin. “You’re not even close to old. And besides,” he leaned closer, “do you know how old my brothers’ mates are? Look at the two old males they love.”

You snorted, laughing. “They don’t count! They might as well have lived a hundred lifetimes with what they’ve gone through. And trust me, Nesta acts like grumpy old fae anyways.”

Azriel tilted his head, eyes narrowing in amusement. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, a playful glint in your eye. “I met Nesta last year when she came to the library to look at books. We bonded over them. She’s a bookworm just like me.”

Azriel raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you liked to read books like that.”

“Oh, I love them,” you said with a coy grin, leaning forward. “I could show you if you wanted.”

Azriel froze mid-sip, the glass halting just before his lips. His eyes widened. “Show me?”

Your smirk deepened, and you leaned back in your chair. “Yeah, I could show you… the books we read.”

Azriel’s eyes flickered, his lips twitching in amusement as he laughed. “I’m not sure whether I should be excited or worried now.”

Giggling, the conversation eventually drifted into quieter territory, the air softening between the two of you as the night wore on.

“Tell me about your family,” you asked, tracing the rim of your glass.

Azriel considered, his voice softer. “I have two brothers. Rhysand and Cassian. You’ve obviously have met Nyx. My nephew. He’s a menace, but he’s got everyone wrapped around his finger.”

You smiled. “Really now? Couldn’t tell… Any immediate family?”

“My mother. I visit her when I can,” he said, a quiet fondness touching his words. “She lives out in the country. Doesn’t like the bustle of Velaris. Says too many people, not enough peace. Plus, she keeps herself busy with stray cats and nosy neighbors.”

You laughed, eyes lighting. “I like her already. I have a habit of collecting stray cats, too.”

He raised a brow. “Really? I didn’t know that. How many do you have?”

Sipping your wine, you feigned innocence. “You’ll have to take me out on another date to learn that.”

Azriel grinned. “Tempting. My mother would love you. You’ll probably steal her attention even more.”

“Don’t get jealous now.”

He leaned closer, shadows curling lazily around him. “You don’t even know how jealous I can get.”

You gave a teasing gasp. “Big momma’s boy, huh?”

He rolled his eyes, laughing. “Maybe.”

“What about you?” he asked. “Your family?”

You went quiet for a moment, then smiled, soft and faraway. “I was my father’s mini-me. Drove my mother crazy. I’d follow him everywhere. He taught me how to read the stars.”

Azriel nodded, “Do they live here?”

“They did but they passed away a long time ago,” you continued. “It was hard at first, but… I’d like to think I still make them proud. They loved each other so deeply. Honestly couldn’t live without each other.”

Azriel smiled softly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. But I do know there’s no doubt you’d still be making them proud.”

You smiled gently, as if hearing him say those words made the pain lessen.

For the rest of dinner, the conversation flowed easily between the two of you, with lighthearted teasing and moments of unexpected depth. And after the delicious chocolate cake for dessert, Azriel turned to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“So,” he said, leaning in slightly. “Is there anything you’d like to do next? Anything… specific?”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully, pretending to consider it. “Dancing,” you said, your grin widening as you watched his eyes darken with amusement.

“Dancing, huh?” he repeated. “I think I can manage that, but I might have two left feet.”

Giggling, you told him you did as well and you could be fools together.

Azriel took your hand as you both left the restaurant, the night air cool but pleasant. You found a popular bar not too far from the restaurant, filled with music and laughter. The second you both walked in, someone handed you a drink. Azriel raised a brow, amused as you downed it like a challenge.

After that, you couldn’t help but pull him out onto the dance floor.

The music pulsed around you two, and you both moved together without thinking—like your bodies knew something they hadn’t figured out yet.

You laughed as Azriel twirled you around, your hair catching the light, and smile dazzling. He couldn’t look away.

“You’re good at this,” you said, breathless.

“So are you,” he murmured, one hand on your waist, the other at the small of your back.

Your faces were close, his shadows curling between you like a second skin.

“I could get used to this,” you whispered.

He smiled, spinning you, and for a second—just one second—Azriel let himself feel the ache in his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt something this real. Like he was no longer watching life from the outside. Like he’d stepped into it.

Yet, he didn’t say anything and just held you a little closer.

Later on, after many drinks, you laughed as Azriel dipped you and pulled you back into him, his hand resting low on your back, your bodies moving in sync. The playful teasing had turned into something more intoxicating, the two of you caught in the rhythm of the night, the chemistry between you undeniable.

And hours passed before either of you even noticed how late it had gotten. The bar was still lively, but the energy had shifted into something more intimate between the two of you, each glance and touch more charged than the last.

“Come on,” you said, grabbing his hand with a sudden impulse. “I have something to show you.”

You led him through the winding streets until you reached a secluded spot— a hidden pool nestled beneath trees and moonlight.

“I come here when I need to breathe,” you said, tripping slightly as you tug off your heels. “To remember what peace feels like.”

Azriel glanced around, taking in the quiet surroundings. “It’s beautiful.”

And then, without warning, you leapt in—dress and all.

Azriel stood at the edge, stunned, wondering if the alcohol was giving him hallucinations or if you actually just jumped in. “You’re insane.”

You grinned, feeling the alcohol loosen your inhibitions. “I’m living,” you said with a playful wink. “Come on, jump in if you dare.”

Azriel laughed, though there was hesitation in his eyes. He stepped forward slowly, removing his shoes first before removing his shirt with exaggerated slowness. “I’m not a scoundrel,” he said, “so I’ll be taking my clothes off properly.”

You couldn’t help but blush, your eyes inadvertently following his every movement as he stripped off his pants.

Azriel noticed your gaze and smirked. “What? Never seen a male before?”

“Not one built like that,” you muttered under your breath, too tipsy to care if he heard.

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything else, then without warning, he leaped into the pool, the splash sending water flying.

You couldn’t help but laugh, watching him wipe water from his eyes and shake off his wings. The two of you swam for what felt like hours, talking about everything and nothing, but mostly about the stars.

“I love looking at them,” you said, your voice soft, distant, as you floated on your back, eyes fixed on the sky.

Azriel nodded, his gaze intense. “You should see the stars in Velaris. I’ll show you sometime, the mountains have the best view.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought. “I’d love that,” you whispered.

Without thinking, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a kiss. But as you pulled back, your eyes widened in realization. “Oh, I—”

Before you could apologize, Azriel cupped the back of your head and pulled you in for another kiss, deeper this time, with a sense of urgency. He pulled away, breathless, his voice a whisper. “Never apologize for that.”

You stayed like that for a while, in the water, tangled in each other. Hands wandered. Kissing never stopped.

But, eventually, the cold of the pool reminded you both of the time, and with a soft sigh, Azriel pulled away, his hand finding yours and tugged you out of the pool.

“Come here,” he murmured, and gently guided you closer. He then gave you his shirt to wear since your dress was soaking wet.

You slipped your arms into the sleeves, and Azriel stepped in, carefully pulling the fabric across you chest.

His fingers worked the buttons slowly, one by one, his knuckles grazing your skin, the shirt sticking slightly to your still-damp dress beneath.

Neither of you said a word.

He wasn’t looking at the buttons anymore—his eyes were on your lips, your throat, your eyes again. You felt your breath catch in your lungs.

You could feel his breath too, shallow and deliberate, the space becoming tighter with every second.

Your voice was barely above a whisper. “You don’t do this for all your dates, do you?”

A small smile ghosted his lips. “Only the ones who drag me into freezing pools and steal my shirt.”

You laughed, but it came out breathy, unsteady. He finished the last button, his hand lingering for just a second too long. Your heart was pounding.

And you knew he could hear it.

“There. Warm now?”

You nodded. “Mostly.”

He didn’t step back.

Neither did you.

A silence stretched, not awkward—just charged, like the pause before lightning splits the sky. Eventually, you let out a soft breath and whispered, “We should head back. Before the sun fully rises and the city realizes we’ve stolen a whole night.”

Azriel finally, slowly, nodded. “Right. Come on.”

And as the first light of dawn broke across the sky, Azriel walked you back to your home, his hand lingering on the small of your back.

Your damp dress clung to your thighs, but you didn’t care. Not with the scent of cedar and shadows that clung to his shirt. Not with the soft glances he kept stealing your way when he thought you wouldn’t notice.

Your fingers brushed once. Twice. The third time, his pinkie hooked around yours.

You looked up at him. He didn’t look back, just smiled, barely-there and lopsided.

No one spoke as you walked. The silence was full, companionable.

Stopping once you reached your house. Azriel turned towards you.

“I haven’t had a night like this in years,” he murmured. “Not since—” He broke off, but you understood. There were things behind both of your smiles. Shadows behind the laughter.

“Well,” you said, brushing you hair back, “hopefully it happens again.”

He looked at you for a long moment. Then he stepped closer, his shadows curling around his legs, his voice barely audible when he said, “I’d like that.”

He dipped his head, and kissed you—slow and soft, like he was memorizing your taste. Melting into it, with your arms around his waist, his shirt drowned your frame but still felt like it belonged there. Like he belonged there.

When he pulled away, he didn’t go far. His forehead pressed against yours for a second, breath shared.

“Goodnight,” he whispered.

“Goodnight, Shadowsinger,” you whispered back, your heart pounding.

Azriel gave you one last lingering look before turning to leave after you walked inside.

He started to walk away, shadows whispering around his shoulders.

But a few steps down the path, Azriel slowed. His hand rose to his chest again, where that strange ache still lingered. Not knowing if it was real or simply fatigue from dancing all night, he looked up at the dawn-washed sky and whispered, “Please, Mother. If this is it… I ask for nothing more.”

And with one long exhale, Azriel continued his way to the palace, where he would gather his things, and go back home. Home. Where you weren’t.

Shaking his head, his shadows curled softly around him and Azriel disappeared.

~~~~~~~~~

(Hopefully everyone liked it, tried to show a more carefree side than the usual brooding. If anyone was any ideas on where to take this story next lmk! Angst???? Or just straight fluff??? No angst??)

[pazziiiiiiii]

Hey guys! Sorry this took so long I worked quite hard on this. I’m still gonna keep the angst going despite the ending but yeah I hope you guys enjoy please give me feedback! ily!!

Part 3

Azzi let it go when Paige said, “My dad said something to me. That’s why I’ve been off.”

She didn’t press, even though Paige could tell she wanted to. The look on her face had been clear—quiet, worried, hurt. But Paige had only said enough to stop the questions, not enough to explain. And she wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Some things felt too big to say out loud.

Because what her dad said didn’t just stay in the past.

It followed her.

“Of course you wanna visit Azzi. Why don’t you just go live with her and ask her to be your girlfriend? You better not ask her, or you can stay there forever.”

He meant it. Every word. His voice still echoed in her head, louder than anything else. And the worst part? She had stayed. She chose to be here. With Azzi.

That wasn’t something she could explain—not when she didn’t even fully understand it herself.

⸻

Things got weird after that.

Not openly. Just… in the little ways. She kept her distance. Didn’t laugh as loud. Didn’t sit as close on the couch during movies. Didn’t sleep as soundly.

Azzi noticed. Paige could feel her noticing.

But she didn’t bring it up again. She just adjusted. She always did. And Paige hated how that made her feel. Guilty. Grateful. Something else she didn’t have words for.

So when Azzi said, “There’s a party—just a few people. My mom said it’s fine,” Paige said yes.

Not because she wanted to go.

Because she didn’t want to be the reason Azzi stopped asking her to.

⸻

The music pulsed under Paige’s skin the second they stepped into the basement. It wasn’t packed—maybe ten people total, spaced out, talking over red solo cups and snack bowls. Still, Paige hovered near the edge of it all, already uncomfortable.

Azzi moved through the room like she belonged there. Laughing. Nodding along to the beat. She knew almost everyone and pulled Paige into a couple of small circles at first, introducing her, making it seem normal.

It wasn’t.

Paige couldn’t stop watching her. Not because she wanted to. Because she couldn’t help it.

Especially when that tall dude in the red hoodie showed up. Devon, or Darren, or something like that. Paige didn’t care. She just saw the way he smiled at Azzi like he knew her. Like he’d thought about her before this moment.

And Azzi smiled back.

Paige stood across the room with a cup she hadn’t touched, jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

She told herself to let it go. Azzi could talk to whoever she wanted. Laugh at his jokes. Let him lean in close. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t her business.

But then his hand brushed Azzi’s waist, and Paige was moving.

“Everything good over here?” she asked, sliding into the small circle, voice sharp.

Azzi looked startled. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

Red Hoodie laughed. “We’re just catching up.”

“Didn’t look like just catching up.”

Azzi turned. “Paige.”

“She looked uncomfortable.”

“I didn’t.”

“You sure?”

Azzi blinked like she couldn’t believe this was happening. “Yes.”

The guy took a step back, clearly picking up on the tension. “I’m gonna go grab a drink.”

When he walked away, Azzi rounded on her. “What was that?”

“He was too close.”

Azzi folded her arms. “And?”

“I didn’t like it.”

“That’s not your call.”

“I’m just looking out for you.”

“I don’t need you to.”

Paige didn’t answer.

Azzi stepped in closer, her voice low. “You can’t pick and choose when to care, Paige.”

“I always care.”

“Then why do you act like you don’t half the time?”

Paige looked at her. The room around them faded into noise. Just Azzi. Hurt. Angry. Confused.

“Forget it,” Paige muttered and turned, walking away before she did something worse.

⸻

The gym was dark when she got there. Cold. Empty.

Perfect.

She didn’t bother turning on the lights at first—just picked up a ball and started shooting. Slow at first, then faster. Every missed shot made her push harder. Her body ached, but she kept going.

Drive. Pull-up. Crossover. Three. Again.

Sweat clung to her skin, burning her eyes. She ignored it.

Her phone buzzed in her bag—over and over. She didn’t check it.

Azzi could wait.

Everyone could wait.

This was the only place that felt quiet.

The only place where her dad’s voice didn’t echo. Where Azzi’s face didn’t float in her mind.

Where she didn’t have to feel anything except tired.

Eventually, her legs gave out.

She didn’t remember falling. Just the cold of the floor against her cheek. The silence in her ears. Her chest tightening.

She blinked. Everything swam.

⸻

“Paige.”

It was far away at first. Then closer. Then sharper.

“Paige.”

She squinted. Azzi.

Kneeling next to her, eyes wide, breath quick.

“What the hell are you doing?” Azzi asked, voice shaking.

“I’m fine,” Paige muttered, sitting up slowly.

“You passed out.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“I just needed a break.”

Azzi stared at her like she was crazy. “You haven’t answered your phone in hours. I thought something happened to you.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Bullshit this isn’t nothing.”

Paige looked away.

Azzi grabbed her bag and shoved a water bottle into her hands. “Drink.”

Paige didn’t move.

“Drink it, Paige.”

She did, slowly. Her hands trembled around the plastic.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Azzi asked, quieter now.

“I told you. I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

Paige looked at her. “I don’t need saving.”

“I’m not trying to save you. I’m trying to be there.”

Paige flinched. “I didn’t ask you to.”

Azzi pulled back like she’d been slapped.

They sat in silence for a long time.

“You can’t keep pushing me away and pretending it doesn’t matter,” Azzi finally said.

Paige stood up slowly. “I’m going back.”

She didn’t wait for Azzi to follow.

⸻

The ride home was silent.

The Fudd’s was asleep when they got in. A single light was on in the kitchen. Azzi didn’t say anything as she grabbed a glass and filled it with water.

She set it outside Paige’s room (the guest room she only started staying in two nights ago that she hates) and knocked once.

The door didn’t open.

⸻

The next morning was tense.

Paige came downstairs late. Her head throbbed. Her limbs felt heavy. Azzi sat at the island, scrolling her phone, barely touching her food.

Katie glanced between them when she walked in. “Y’all good?”

“Yeah,” they said, too fast, too flat.

Katie raised an eyebrow. “Okay.”

She left the room, but her eyes said we’re not done here.

Azzi didn’t look at Paige. Paige didn’t try to talk.

She knew she should. Knew she’d crossed a line—again.

But she also knew the line wasn’t just about Azzi.

It was about her dad.

His voice.

His threat.

The weight of choosing to stay.

Paige finished two bites of toast and left the kitchen.

⸻

She ended up back at the court later that day. Not to train this time. Just to sit. Think.

She didn’t even notice Azzi had followed until she heard footsteps behind her.

“I figured I’d find you here,” Azzi said.

Paige didn’t answer.

Azzi sat down on the bleachers beside her.

“I didn’t tell my mom what happened last night.”

“Thanks.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you at the party.”

Paige shook her head. “You were right.”

Azzi studied her face. “You don’t talk to me anymore.”

“I do.”

“Not about what matters.”

Paige swallowed hard.

Azzi waited.

Paige stared at the court. “I told you my dad said something.”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t tell you what.”

Azzi didn’t push. She just nodded, waiting again.

Paige kept her eyes forward. “It was about you.”

Azzi didn’t speak.

“He said if I asked you to be my girlfriend, I could just stay here forever.”

Azzi blinked.

“That I might as well live here. With you.”

The words felt like knives in her throat.

“He was yelling,” Paige added, quieter. “Like I’d already done something wrong.”

Azzi’s voice was soft. “And did you?”

Paige shook her head. “No.”

They sat with that for a long moment. The sun was starting to set, long shadows stretching across the gym floor.

“You’re scared,” Azzi said.

Paige didn’t deny it.

Azzi leaned back against the bleachers, voice low. “I wish you’d just let me help.”

“I don’t know how.”

Azzi looked at her, like she wanted to say more. But she didn’t.

They sat there, inches apart, with miles of silence between them.

[kittenisstarstruck]

Sick Days

How these sweethearts would take care of you when you get sick. Posting because i've been fighting the worst illness of my life and I need an outlet.

KUROO:

You barely register the sound of the front door shutting. Your head is heavy against the back of the sofa, wrapped in a cocoon of fleece and tissues and general misery. A sniffle escapes you before you can suppress it, and then—

“Hey, kitten.” Kuroo’s voice is warm, like the first few rays of sunlight through your curtains. “Still feeling like death’s less charming cousin?”

You don’t bother answering. Just nod weakly, snuggled deeper into your blanket. The TV plays some quiet background show you’re not paying attention to, more for noise than actual entertainment. He doesn’t ask again—he gets it.

A few minutes later, he’s kneeling in front of the coffee table, carefully ladling soup from a pot into your favorite chipped ceramic mug—the one with a little black cat on it. He holds it out to you, already blowing gently over the top.

“Made you the miso soup you like. The one with tofu and those seaweed things you like even though they’re kind of weird.”

You take the mug with both hands, letting the steam soothe your raw nose. “Thanks,” you croak.

Kuroo watches you like a scientist waiting for an experiment to confirm his theory. When you finally take a small sip and don’t immediately grimace, he relaxes.

“There we go. That’s the stuff, huh?”

You nod. The warmth of the broth spreads slowly through your chest, and for the first time all day, you don’t want to crawl out of your own skin.

He reaches over with a thumb and swipes at your mouth. “Soup casualty,” he murmurs, inspecting his fingertip like it’s part of the job. “Can’t have my patient getting soup stains on my couch.”

You blink at him, a little dazed. “I thought this couch was already ruined from that time you spilled ramen.”

Kuroo grins, entirely unrepentant. “That was character-building for the couch.”

You try to smirk, but it turns into a cough. Instantly, he’s pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders, tucking it gently under your chin like he’s wrapping a fragile parcel.

“You’re alright,” he says softly. “Just need rest. And more soup.”

You lean your head on the back of the sofa again, soup cradled against your chest. He sits down next to you, close enough for his thigh to press against yours, radiating that particular Kuroo warmth.

In a world that feels a little foggier, a little heavier today, Kuroo still manages to make things feel lighter. Sweeter.

Even the soup.

KENMA:

It’s raining outside, just enough to blur the windows, just enough to make the world feel far away. You’re nestled into the corner of the couch, swaddled in a blanket so thick it’s starting to feel like a cocoon. Your head is heavy, your throat aches, and nothing tastes right—not even the tea Kenma made you earlier.

You hear the soft tap of bare feet against the wood floors before you see him. He’s holding a small bowl of soup with both hands like it’s something precious.

“I didn’t know what kind you’d want,” he says, voice quiet like he’s afraid of disturbing you. “So I made the one my mom used to make me when I was sick. It’s... kind of simple. Just broth, noodles, a soft-boiled egg.”

You blink at him from your pile of blankets. “Sounds perfect.”

Kenma kneels beside the couch, placing the bowl on a small tray. Then, wordlessly, he helps you sit up, adjusting the blanket so it doesn’t fall off your shoulders. You murmur something that might be “thank you,” or maybe it’s just a tired sigh. He hands you the bowl and watches as you take a slow, tentative sip.

You hum quietly. “Warm.”

Kenma nods like that’s all he was hoping for.

But then you feel it—the tiniest drip of broth escaping the corner of your mouth. Before you can grab a tissue, he’s already leaning in, thumb brushing delicately over your skin.

“Got it,” he says, eyes still on your face, thumb lingering just a moment too long.

You blink at him. “You’re being really gentle.”

He shrugs, sitting back on his heels. “You look like you’d break if I poked you too hard.”

Despite everything, you smile. “Flattering.”

Kenma doesn’t smile back, but there’s a twitch at the corner of his mouth, like he’s trying not to. He pulls the blanket tighter around your shoulders again, tucking it in like you’re something he wants to keep warm and safe.

“I paused our game,” he murmurs. “I can keep playing solo if you want background noise. Or I can just stay here.”

“Stay,” you say, without thinking.

He doesn’t move. Just leans against the couch, close enough for your foot to brush his leg through the blanket.

You take another slow sip of soup.

In a fevered, foggy world, Kenma doesn’t ask you to feel better right away. He just stays, warm and quiet, until the soup is gone and your eyes start to drift shut. And even then, he doesn’t move.

LEV:

Your bedroom feels like a cave—dark, warm, and completely sealed off from the outside world. The blinds are half-closed, and your phone’s been untouched for hours. All you can do is lie there under too many blankets, alternating between being freezing and sweating, your head stuffed with cotton and your throat sore enough to make even a whisper feel like effort.

And then—

CLANG.

Something crashes in the kitchen.

You groan. Loudly.

A few seconds later, Lev pokes his head through your bedroom door. His silver hair is fluffed from rushing around, and he’s wearing an apron you don’t even remember owning. “Hi!” he says like he’s just come home from a long day and not like he’s been loudly destroying your kitchen.

“Are you��� okay?” you croak, eyeing him like he might be carrying another metal pot behind his back.

“Better question is: are you okay?” he says, dramatically making his way over to your side. “You look kind of like a sad burrito. A sick-rito.”

You blink at him slowly. “Lev…”

“I know, I know. I’m not proud of that one.”

He sits carefully on the edge of the bed like you’re made of glass. In his hands is a bowl—some kind of soup. He holds it out to you like an offering. “I made you chicken soup. Kind of. It’s mostly broth and noodles and a suspiciously cube-shaped chicken I found in the freezer. But I tried really hard.”

You reach for it, but your hands are shaky. He notices, of course, because he’s watching you way too closely.

“Wait—no, don’t move. I’ll feed you. I got this.”

“I can—” you start, but he’s already sitting closer, blowing gently over the spoon like it’s something sacred. He raises it to your lips, one hand steadying your back.

You take a sip. It’s… not bad. A little salty. Very warm. Weirdly comforting.

“You’re not dying, right?” he asks, watching for your reaction.

You shake your head weakly. “Not yet.”

Lev grins. “Nice. Because if you die, I’d have to keep your plants alive, and we both know that’s not happening.”

You snort—then cough. He panics instantly, putting the bowl down and grabbing a tissue with so much force it tears in half.

Once you’ve stopped coughing, he tucks the blanket back up under your chin, brushing hair away from your face with a surprisingly gentle hand. “You’re gonna be okay,” he says, softer now. “You’ve got me. And soup. Mostly me, though.”

Your body aches, your nose is stuffed, and your brain feels like it’s been microwaved. But Lev is here, fussing over you with his weird soup and his lopsided apron and his warm hands.

And for the first time since this miserable flu took you down, you feel just a little bit better.

MORISUKE:

You don’t even remember texting him.

You just know that when your shift ended, and you slumped against the wall near the entrance of your workplace, head pounding and vision swimming, your phone slipped from your fingers—and the next time you looked up, Yaku was there.

He doesn’t say anything right away. Just takes one look at you—damp forehead, pale face, sagging shoulders—and makes a noise somewhere between a sigh and a growl.

“You should’ve called me earlier,” he says, not unkindly, but with that sharp-edged tone that always means he’s more worried than he’s letting on.

“Didn’t wanna bother you,” you mumble, voice like sandpaper.

Yaku raises an eyebrow as he opens the passenger door of his car and gently—gently—helps you in. “You think driving home half-conscious isn’t more of a bother?”

You blink up at him. “I wasn’t gonna drive. Just rest for a minute. Then maybe nap on the sidewalk.”

“That’s not the win you think it is,” he mutters, buckling you in.

By the time you make it home, your fever’s spiked and your limbs feel like they’re filled with wet cement. Yaku helps you inside with a firm arm around your waist, guiding you straight to the bed with no room for argument.

You think he leaves—but you’re not sure, because you blink and suddenly he’s back, slipping your shoes off with careful fingers.

“Soup’s on the stove. You’re not allowed to die before it’s done,” he murmurs, brushing your hair off your forehead.

You try to joke, “Is that a threat or a promise?”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s no heat in it. “It’s a please don’t scare me like that again, is what it is.”

Ten minutes later, he returns with a tray—tea, a warm towel for your forehead, and soup in a mug with a little crab on the side. He doesn't hover, but you can feel him near—watching your breathing, checking how much you drink, adjusting your blanket when you shift.

You whisper, “You're good at this.”

Yaku shrugs. “I’ve had to patch up plenty of idiots after volleyball practice. You're just my favorite one.”

Your heart flutters despite the flu.

He sits on the edge of the bed once you're settled, brushing a thumb over your temple. “Next time, just call me right away. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the day or if I’m in the middle of something. You’re not supposed to be out there pushing through this alone.”

You manage a weak smile. “Yes, Nurse Yaku.”

His lips twitch. “Damn right.”

And even though your head still aches and your throat still burns, the pain dulls a little—because Yaku is here, and you’re warm, and the soup tastes just a little better with him beside you.

[jjwolves]

Hi! just wanna request ( you dont have to abswer ofc) any ena hc you have? ooor maybe some moonie ones?

─ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─── Yellow Magic, Blue Miracle ─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆─

What: 5 ENA X Reader Headcanons (Romantic)

Who: ENA, from ENA by Joel G

How Much: ~800 words; reading time ~3 mins

Images: Top -> Joel G; Divider -> @cafekitsune

Warnings: None

Genre: Romance

ENA is pretty unaware of romance in general, at least starting out. She doesn’t have a very good reference point for your feelings, nor her feelings for you. But she does start to feel… very strongly about you the more you two hang out and go on adventures together. “I mess up everything I touch! I’m a disaster!” she wailed once when the two of you were stuck in a vat of glitter glue. “Don’t say that!” you yelled back. ENA’s face flickered. “You’re the only reason we even got this far! Give yourself more credit!” How confounding! On one hand, you sounded angry, but on the other, your words were encouraging. This was a puzzle she looked forward to solving.

Upon figuring some things out after reading a scroll on the subject made out of a butterfly’s wing (many thanks, love scroll!), ENA makes a beeline for wherever you are, obstacles be damned. She finds you and, yellow side as polite and unclear as usual, says, “The butterfly scroll has opened the shower curtain for me, and I’m now rinsing off the grime of formality.” “What?” A turn of the head and a pass of the emotional baton. “I was thinking that you loved me… But you don’t even know what I’m talking about!!” Before she can cry more than she already has, you take her hands, one soft and one blocky, and tell her the truth. “ENA, I do love you.” Her eyes widen and she’s buffering. "T-Truly?" But when she recovers from her stutter she’ll be crashing back into sunshine-colors in no time. You two adapt to the new relationship pretty quickly; it’s essentially just your friendship but with a new side unlocked. And she’ll need a new nickname for you to accommodate this, of course. She can’t call you “my good chum” anymore, so she calls you “my good love”. She says that it’s a reasonable meeting point. She assured you that “good” was the most accurate descriptor that she could grant your new title.

ENA is weird, obviously, and while you love her for it, it takes you time to adjust to her behavior now that you’re close. That is to say, she’s not the most stable person. When she thinks you’re hurt, emotionally or physically, she goes into panic mode. If ENA finds you crying, or bruised, or clutching a new sprain, she’s already blue, white and running around, her arms flailing and knocking things over. You’re flattered that it means so much to her… but there are times when it’s seriously inconvenient. If a poor soul enters ENA’s panic bubble when you’re near, she’ll be running over to them to frantically swat them away and cause a scene before running back to you and freaking out some more.

ENA’s sunshine-y side is big on chivalry, and while she wouldn’t hesitate to show a cartoon animal sent to assassinate her the common decency of saying “Hello, good sir!” before running away, she cranks it up to eleven with you around and becomes the most unhinged gentlewoman you may ever meet. She’s the type to run ahead and pull open a door for you, beckoning you inside. “May your feet march on unimpeded, my good love!” You stop at her side and raise an eyebrow. “That’s not the door we need to go in, but thanks.” She blinks once and you wince as she lets it slam shut. Loudly. Like, echoing. Another time, there was a puddle of acid on the ground you could easily walk around (or jump across if you could afford to lose some skin). ENA, sweetheart she is, plucked a coat off a nearby stranger and set it over the puddle for you. “The one I love should never have to fear a goopy fate.” Then the tall, imposing, and now jacketless shadow she stole from turned to you both and his hands became knives, so you two agreed that it was time to get the heck out of there.

Being so close to ENA means that you end up finding new sides to her you didn’t know existed. Everyone knows about her yellow and blue sides if they’ve known her for more than a minute. But she trusts you wholeheartedly with other sides of her that might be less palatable to other people. If she’s drunk, sick, or high off some strange substance or fae mood she encountered, she doesn’t feel the need to suppress her more monstrous forms, where she grows paler, darker, twisted, ceremonial. Instead, ENA just splays herself out on the couch next to you with her horns and flames jutting out of one side and a mischievous pale face smiling eerily from another, crawling over to you and laying in your lap. You both fall asleep pretty easily given the circumstances, resting in the home you found within each other. As you start to drift off, ENA’s regular face, now a symbol resting on her forehead, blushes and closes its eyes.

A/N: I hope that classic ENA is alright for now. I will probably do a Moony one in the near future. Or I may do one where they're both involved and one is the wingman for the other or something similar. Also, when I read ENA fics, I feel like they try to paper over ENA's blue side a lot, but I feel like it's a pretty important part of who she is, at least pre-Temptation stairway, so it's included pretty heavily here. Happy reading! More to come soon...

[holyblonded]

Oh I just read that headcanon about Azul and we all know that she has a hard time adjusting to having responsible and caring adults around her, so it's very emotional, learning how to be loved and all that.

But I wonder if she ever has a hard time adjusting to having someone actually parenting her? Like maybe silly stuff at the beginning, like...olga telling her that she can't pull an all-nighter and azul is like??? No one ever told me what i should and shouldn't do?

So she's like a bit resistant to that too, and estrella is like "oh she talking back to olga?!" And alexia is like "yep, wanna go get something to eat before it gets ugly?"

omg yes 😭

estrella’s laid out on the couch, half-watching some terrible netflix reality show when it starts.

azulita, sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop open, has been working on an assignment for hours. she’s cranky, earbuds in, tapping her pencil against the table like it personally offended her.

olga’s standing nearby, arms crossed, binder still in hand (because of course she made a school binder too, she’s insane like that), and she says, real calm, “azul, it’s midnight. time to close it and go to bed.”

estrella peeks over the couch back just in time to see azul’s head snap up.

“i’m not done,” azulita says, like it’s obvious.

olga doesn’t budge. “you’ll finish it tomorrow after school. you need sleep.”

“i have to finish it,” azulita insists, stubborn. you can see it in her eyes, the twitchy little panic.

olga, still calm but firm, says, “you don’t have to do anything at the expense of your health. close it. bed.”

and azulita. god bless her. she talks back.

“you’re not my—” she starts, loud, defensive, halfway standing up.

estrella sits straight up, eyes wide. “oh she talking back to olga?!”

from behind her, ale’s voice drifts in like a casual breeze. “yep,” she says, like this is a national geographic documentary. “wanna go get something to eat before it gets ugly?”

estrella whips her head around. ale’s already heading toward the door like she’s clocking out of work. you scramble after her because you’ve seen olga mad before and you’d rather not be collateral damage.

meanwhile, azulita’s still frozen, realizing mid-sentence who she’s talking to. olga’s eyebrows are up, binder tucked against her chest like a shield, and she says, very quietly, very seriously, “finish that sentence.

and azulita, to her credit, does not. she clamps her mouth shut, cheeks turning bright red. her whole body looks stiff, like she wants to run but also cry but also yell.

olga softens a little, stepping closer, lowering her voice. “i know you’re used to nobody caring. but i care. we care. and when i say you need to sleep, it’s because you matter. not because i’m trying to control you. okay?”

azulita blinks really fast, nods once. the fight drains right out of her. she closes her laptop without another word.

estrella and ale peek around the corner, watching it all unfold like spies.

“she’s good,” ale murmurs, impressed.

“yeah,” estrella saya, stuffing a cookie into your mouth. “she’s scary but like…in a loving way.”

they hear azulita mumble an apology and olga ruffles her hair, ushering her toward the stairs like nothing happened. like being cared for and set limits is the most normal thing in the world.

ale bumps estrella’s shoulder as she passes her. “you’re next,” she teases.

she scowl, mouth full of crumbs. “i don’t even do anything!”

[zoe535]

Someone to Love

Part 4

°~°~°~°

Zaya was two months old now.

The colic hadn’t vanished overnight, but it had eased—softened like fog lifting after a long storm. She no longer cried for hours in the evening. She still fussed, still had her moments, but now there were stretches—glorious, quiet stretches—where she lay content on her play mat, kicking her little legs, eyes wide and curious.

She’d started smiling. Real ones. The kind that lit up her whole face and made Azzi tear up every time. She followed voices now, especially Paige’s deeper one, and she’d started cooing in response when they talked to her like she was a tiny roommate with lots of opinions.

“She’s getting so big,” Azzi whispered one morning, watching Zaya’s fists flail as she lay in her cot, eyes fixed on the mobile spinning above her (that Paige built).

Paige stood behind her, arms around Azzi’s waist, chin resting on her shoulder. “I know. She’s a real human now.” Azzi chuckled. “She always was.” “Yeah, but now she has... personality. Attitude...just like you.”

As if on cue, Zaya made a loud grunt and squawked—half-yawn, half-protest. “Definitely yours,” Paige teased. Azzi elbowed her gently and leaned into the hug. “She’s ours.”

Azzi smiled at the way Zaya's little hands reached out as though trying to catch the mobile's bright-colored toys. The tiny movement was so deliberate, so full of intent. Paige watched too, standing quietly behind her, her fingers idly tracing circles on Azzi’s arm.

“You see it?” Paige whispered. Azzi nodded, her heart swelling. “She’s so smart already” “She got that from you” Paige teased again. Azzi rolled her eyes but smiled softly. “Stop saying that. She’s ours. Everything she does is ours.”

Paige squeezed her tighter, pressing her lips to Azzi’s temple. “I know. I just like teasing you.” Zaya let out another protest, this time more vocal and insistent, as though announcing she was ready for something else. Azzi shifted away slightly, feeling the weight of the day already settling on her shoulders. She’d been doing so much lately—caring for Zaya, keeping up with chores, trying to manage everything on her own without burdening Paige.

“I’m going to change her,” Azzi said, starting to rise. Paige let go reluctantly, but the way her face softened told Azzi everything she needed to know. “You sure you’re okay?” Paige asked gently, her eyes scanning Azzi’s face for any sign of strain. “Yeah, I’m fine,” Azzi said quickly, masking the exhaustion. She could never admit when she was struggling—especially not now, when they’d both been running on little sleep for weeks. “I’ll be right back.”

Azzi had just finished changing Zaya when Paige came in, the door clicking softly behind her. Azzi looked up from the bassinet to see her standing there, arms crossed.

“Everything okay?” Paige asked, voice low but with a note of concern. Azzi’s brow furrowed slightly. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Paige raised an eyebrow, but it wasn’t accusatory. She was just… watching. “You’re kind of… acting distant, Azzi.” Azzi paused, her fingers lightly smoothing Zaya’s onesie as she adjusted it. She didn’t respond immediately, not sure how to. It had been happening more and more lately—this quiet distance between them.

“I’m fine,” Azzi repeated, her voice coming out a little sharper than she intended. She looked up and caught the hurt in Paige’s eyes. “Sorry. I just… I just feel like I’ve been doing everything.”

Paige stood silent for a beat, then took a step closer. “I know you have, Azzi. I see you. I see everything you’re doing. But you’re not alone, okay? You don’t have to do it all.”

Azzi shook her head, fighting the sting in her eyes. “It’s not just about doing everything. It’s about… I don’t know, keeping it all together. I don’t want to ask you for help all the time, Paige. You have enough on your plate already.”

Paige reached out, her fingers brushing Azzi’s arm. “That’s the thing. You can ask me for help. I want to help. I want to be there.” “I know,” Azzi said quietly, avoiding Paige’s gaze. She hadn’t meant for this to spill out. She had tried so hard to keep it all together. But now, the words just tumbled out of her like a flood. “I just don’t want to feel like I’m burdening you. You’ve been working, you’ve been helping so much already. I just don’t want to be one more thing.”

There was a long silence. Paige took another step forward, this time pulling Azzi into her arms. “Azzi, you’re not a burden. You never were. We’re a team. I’m not doing any of this alone either.” Azzi melted into Paige’s embrace, the weight in her chest easing just a little bit. She knew Paige meant it. It just didn’t feel real yet. Not when she was so used to carrying everything herself.

Zaya gave a soft gurgle, pulling both of them from their moment. Azzi glanced down at her, the tiny face half-hidden in the blankets. “She’s growing up so fast, Paige. I want to be the best mom for her.”

“You will be,” Paige reassured her. “You are." Azzi smiled softly at her wife's response.

°~°~°~°

A few hours later, after Zaya had settled into one of her peaceful stretches, Azzi and Paige sat at the kitchen table, sipping coffee in the early evening light. The house was quiet now, Zaya napping in her bassinet in the living room. The calm after a long day.

“You’re doing great, you know that?” Paige said softly, watching Azzi over the rim of her coffee cup. “Even when you’re tired or feel like you’re not doing enough, you’re doing so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

Azzi set her cup down and gave Paige a tired smile. “I don’t always feel that way.”

Paige pushed her chair back and moved to Azzi’s side, gently cupping her face in her hands. “Trust me. You are.”

Azzi let out a soft sigh, resting her forehead against Paige’s. “I just wish I didn’t feel like I’m always one step behind. Like I’m failing her in some way.” “You’re not failing her,” Paige said, her voice unwavering. “You’re human. And being a mom is hard. But you’re doing it. Every single day, you’re doing it.” Azzi smiled weakly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” “You won’t have to find out.” Paige leaned in and kissed Azzi’s temple, holding her close. “We’ve got this. Both of us.”

For a while, they just sat there in the quiet, the weight of the day lifting. Zaya’s soft coos filtered in from the living room, a reminder of how far they’d come in the past two months.

The road ahead was still unknown—there would be more struggles, but they had each other.

[naomijoestar]

Hey!! I love your writing and I appreciate how you make the characters as canon as possible!

Can I request the gang + Trish reacting to reader suddenly hugging them tightly >_< .

(Platonically though!!)

This request is from February, I’m sorry!!! 😅 I hope you enjoy this nonetheless!

Bucci gang + trish react to reader suddenly hugging them

Bruno Bucciarati

You catch him mid-strategy, arms crossed as he discusses plans in that calm, focused tone of his. You suddenly wrap your arms around him in a firm, unexpected hug. He freezes — surprised more by the timing than the gesture itself.

After a moment, his body relaxes, and he gently pats your back.

“…You scared me for a second,” he says with a soft chuckle, voice low and comforting. “But… thank you. I needed that more than I realized.”

He doesn’t hug back tightly, but he doesn’t pull away either. He understands, even without a word.

Leone Abbacchio

He’s sitting off to the side, arms draped across his knees, scowling into the distance as usual. You approach quietly and hug him without warning.

His entire body tenses like you just threw cold water on him. “What the hell are you—” he starts, twisting slightly in irritation.

But then you don’t let go. You just stay there, holding him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

He exhales — long and slow.

“…Tch. Don’t get used to this,” he mutters, eyes flicking away. But he doesn’t move. Maybe, just maybe, there’s the faintest shift in how he leans into it.

Guido Mista

He’s joking around, probably teasing Narancia or balancing a bullet on his finger when you suddenly squeeze him tight.

“Oh?! Hey hey hey!” He grins, startled but amused. “What’s all this about?”

His first instinct is to laugh it off, but then he hears how deep you sigh against his shoulder.

“Oh,” he says again, softer this time.

He hugs you back with one arm, a bit lopsided but firm, patting your back in a rhythm that’s almost musical.

“You’re lucky I’m irresistible,” he jokes, but his voice is warm. “Anytime, capisce?”

Giorno Giovanna

He’s organizing something — his mind always working. You step in and hug him tight, and he stiffens like you short-circuited his brain.

His arms hover awkwardly for a second, unsure of what to do. “Ah… are you alright?”

But as he feels the sincerity of your grip, he gently wraps his arms around you in return, polite but heartfelt.

“I may not always say it,” he murmurs, “but I’m glad you feel safe enough to do this.”

He doesn’t let go until you do.

Narancia Ghirga

He yelps. Like, full-on jumps a little. “Wha—?! Whoa, hey!!”

But once he realizes it’s you and it’s just a hug, he breaks into a huge grin. “Sheesh, you scared me! Thought it was an enemy Stand or somethin!”

Still, he beams and immediately returns the hug, arms wrapped tight and fast. He holds on like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.

“You’re so weird sometimes, y’know that?” he says, but he’s laughing. “But I like it. Do it again sometime.”

Pannacotta Fugo

You catch him reading or lost in thought — which is dangerous, because sudden contact triggers that split-second panic reflex.

He jumps, pushing back instinctively. “What are you doing?!”

But once he sees it’s you, and that you’re just hugging him — no threat, no reason — the anger that flickered across his face softens.

“…Sorry,” he mumbles, shoulders dropping. “You just caught me off guard.”

He hesitates, then lightly places a hand on your back. “Thanks. I… appreciate it.” His voice is quiet. Earnest.

Trish Una

She’s brushing her hair or adjusting her outfit, probably mid-eye roll at something Mista said, when you suddenly hug her from behind.

“Huh—?!” She jolts, startled, turning slightly to see your face. “Are you okay? What’s gotten into you?”

But even as she says it, she doesn’t pull away. Her arms don’t move at first, unsure.

Then slowly — very slowly — she rests a hand on your arm and lets out a breath.

“…You’re lucky I like you,” she says with mock annoyance. “But… I guess I don’t mind.”

If you enjoyed this make sure to check out my other posts, and if you’d like anything specific written for a jjba character/squad parts 1-9 you can request it if my requests are open!