#bliss bridal

[sidneyb16]

Bridal Bliss CAS & BuildBuy Challenge

Tag your posts with #BridalBlissCASChallenge and #BridalBlissBuildBuyChallenge so I can see all of your amazing creations!

This isn't a one prompt per day challenge, so feel free to do all of these in one day if you want!

Have fun! I also have a bridal bliss wedding modpack planned to go up on my patreon!

BuildBuy Challenge

Become the ultimate wedding planner and build the perfect venues corresponding prompts!

CAS Challenge

Every wedding has at least one of these 20 types of people, what chaotic sims are you inviting to your wedding?

BuildBuy

1. Proposal (set the scene for when your sim or their partner asks the special question, and make sure the receiver is sporting a fresh manicure)

2. Engagement Party (Get the perfect lot of your choice ready to show off their ring to all of the family and friends)

3. Bridesmaids Proposal (Their partner popped the question, now it's your sims turn! Create the perfect brunch restaurant for your sim and their future sims of honor!)

4. Dress Shopping (Build a super cute and chic bridal shop ready to say yes to the dress!)

5. Bachelorette Party (Build the perfect vacation rental for that epic celebration with your friends before tying the knot!)

6. Rehearsal Dinner (Build a fancy restaurant for the run through before the big day!)

7. Wedding Morning (Let's get the bridal suite ready!)

8. Wedding Ceremony (Set the stage to walk down the aisle and exchange those vows!)

9. Reception (Get your bouquet ready to toss and the cake ready to cut, it's tine to party all night! Build a fun reception ready venue!)

10. Honeymoon (Break out the candles, make it romantic! Build the perfect honeymoon suite!)

CAS

Type A Wedding Planner

Attention Seeking Plus One

Ride or Die Maid of Honor

Spoiled Flower Girl

Drama Filled Bridesmaid

Drunk Aunt/Uncle

Troublemaker Ring Bearer

[hainebune]

Rochia de mireasă Lizette din colecția Bliss: eleganță și rafinament într-un singur design

Rochiile de mireasă din colecția Bliss sunt cunoscute pentru eleganța și rafinamentul lor, iar pentru miresele care caută o rochie clasică, dar sofisticată, rochia Lizette este alegerea perfectă. Fiecare detaliu este atent conceput pentru a oferi o ținută de vis în ziua cea mare.

Design și croială

Lizette este o rochie ce emană feminitate și romantism prin designul său clasic. Aceasta este realizată dintr-un material fin, cum ar fi satinul sau mătasea, ce conferă o strălucire elegantă. Croiala clasică în stil A-line se potrivește oricărei siluete, subliniind talia și alungind linia corpului.

Unul dintre elementele distincte ale rochiei Lizette este decolteul inimă, care adaugău un aspect romantic și senzual. Cupele și corsetul integrat susțin perfect bustul, oferind miresei o eleganță impecabilă și siguranță în purtare.

Detalii și accesorii

Rochia Lizette este decorată cu mici detalii delicate, precum dantelă sau paiete, ce adaugă un plus de farmec și strălucire rochiei. Aceste detalii pot fi regăsite în jurul bustului, pe fustă sau în zona trenului, și oferă o notă de subtilă eleganță.

Completând rochia Lizette cu accesorii rafinate, vei obține un look de vis. Poți opta pentru o diademă strălucitoare sau o mireasă cu voal lung, care vor adăuga eleganță și un aspect regal.

Confort și libertate de mișcare

Un alt aspect important al rochiei Lizette este confortul pe care îl oferă miresei. Chiar dacă acesta are un design sofisticat și elegant, acesta nu este la fel de rigid și greoi ca alte rochii de mireasă.

Materialul de calitate și croiala bine gândită asigură confortul și libertatea de mișcare necesare pentru a te simți încrezătoare și relaxată în ziua nunții.

Rochii de mireasă | IrisBridalSalon.ro

Rochia Lizette din colecția Bliss de la IrisBridalSalon.ro este alegerea perfectă pentru miresele care doresc un look elegant și sofisticat. Designul clasic, detaliile delicate și materialele fine transformă această rochie într-o adevărată capodoperă. cu siguranță vei fi strălucitoare și te vei simți unică în această rochie, în ziua cea mare.

De asemenea, comfortul oferit de această rochie te va face să te simți ușoară și liberă de mișcare, pentru a putea savura fiecare moment special al nunții tale. Lizette este alegerea potrivită pentru miresele romantice și sofisticate care își doresc să își transforme visul în realitate și să strălucească în ziua nunții lor.

[slvttfortoru]

After care with Gojo𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆⊹ ࣪ ˖₊⊹

Satoru drags his lips lazily onto your jawline his big strong hands still keeping your wrist pinned above your head. "you did so good for me.." he whispers, into your ear. His lips staring to lazily kiss the side of your neck. His cock still being inside of you as the mixture of both of your orgsams mixed together leaking out of you. Your legs still being pressed up against your chest.

He continues his lazy kisses, his lips meeting yours in a soft peck. He leans up pulling your arms down back to your side gently, knowing they're probably numb and sore. He removes his hands from your wrist, before pulling out of you watching your mixture of bliss spill out of you. Making his dick twitch at the sight. But he knows far too well that if you went another round you'd probably pass out on him.

His hand gently comes up to your cheek gently tapping it, making your eyes peer up at him lazily getting out of your trance. He softly smiles down at you slowly putting your legs down your feet meeting the soft sheets, your legs shaking still as your feet hit the soft sheets. Whining brining your arm up to cover your face.

Satoru softly chuckles as he gently caresses your knee with the back side of his hand "c'mon pretty girl lets get you cleaned up," he says his voice comforting. As he scoops you up bridal style carrying you to the bathroom to clean the both of you up.

⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆⊹ ࣪ ˖₊⊹

-- A/N - this has been sitting in my drafts for a bit !! sorry for any spelling errors :3

[th3cadav3r]

NSFW Mouthwashing Headcanons PT2–Back On Earth

content: kissing, oral, sex toys, spanking, name-calling, scent kink, implied marriage proposal, reader is female

author’s note: This takes place after the Tulpar lands back on Earth. This is also an AU in which the crash obviously never happened and Jimmy never assaulted Anya(because he would’ve been in jail by now). Lastly, please assume that the reader lives near whoever I’m writing about because realistically these people probably all live in completely different places

Daisuke

Almost immediately asked you out on a date, which eventually ended in him sneaking you into his house very late at night

Yeah y’all fucked. Very quietly cuz his parents were asleep in the room across the hall

You guys usually sneak in a few quickies every now and then at his house

It’s only when you invite him over to your place that you get to take it slow

Likes foreplay a lot, specifically fondling and kissing

Terrible at dirty talk and he doesn’t quite know how to respond to it either, so physical touch is usually what gets him in the mood

If his cat (Bonsai) walks in while you two are getting it on, he’ll immediately want to stop. He just feels so guilty doing that sort of thing in front of his baby

Sometimes cums way too fast, but he just keeps going like nothing happened

At some point after a passionate session, he asked you what exactly he is to you

And when you told him that you want to be with him and see where this goes, he couldn’t stop smiling

Another round shortly ensued

Anya

By the time you arrived back on Earth, you had already established a relationship with her. You moved into her house which meant pure, private, uninterrupted bliss almost everyday

It was actually her that introduced toys in the bedroom. She bought a vibrator and really wanted to try it on you, though she was definitely shy about it

You bought her a rose toy for her birthday. Needless to say, she came about six times that night, screaming your name the whole way through

Starts mumbling in Russian or in Mandarin (or wherever you headcanon her from) when she gets really into it. You never know what the fuck she’s saying and whenever you ask afterwards she’s too embarrassed to translate

Really likes when you trace your finger or hand down her back. Makes her shiver every time in the best way possible

Bites her bottom lip involuntarily when she’s excited. It’s literally the hottest thing ever when she’s on top of you, looking down at you while biting her lip

Always smells like powder. You definitely sneak in a few sniffs while kissing her cheek or her neck

Curly

Asked if you wanted to be his girlfriend shortly after returning to Earth, to which you of course said yes

You invited him over to your place, eager to see him again. And also eager to have him inside you…

Make sure you stretch before he puts you in missionary because he will have you bent in half

If you and him fuck, cancel all your plans for the next day because you will not be able to stand, much less walk

When he starts swearing like a sailor, you know you’re doing a good job

Often fucks you in front of a mirror while telling you how beautiful you look

Likes carrying you bridal style to the bedroom

Never turn your back to him. He will smack your ass every chance that he gets(you should totally get back at him by smacking his ass too)

He’ll never admit this to you, but he actually likes it when you take control. He likes the thrill of you initiating intimacy, kissing his neck and leaving marks like he always does to you. And he loves it when you ride him like there’s no tomorrow, not allowing him to move a muscle as you milk him dry

When he cums, he cums A LOT. An endless amount of thick creamy ropes. He’s a little embarrassed by it cuz he always makes a mess but you honestly can’t get enough of it

Swansea

You guys also had established a relationship while on the Tulpar and you move in together when you land back on Earth

Domestic life with him is amazing. Romantic dinners, relaxing evenings, and of course crazy old people sex

Loves when you surprise him by just randomly being naked. Like one day he came home late from work and you were just on the couch completely naked waiting for him and he was so flustered he didn’t even know what to say

Depending on the intensity of your escapade, his pet names will range from “doll” to “whore”

Likes holding down yours hips while kissing you everywhere

Usually only likes taking you in the bedroom or shower. But if you’re both in the mood for it, he won’t hesitate to bend you over onto the dinner table or kitchen counter

Kinda nervous when he first ate you out, but quickly learned how to do it well with your guidance. Now he likes to eat you out everytime you suck him off to make it even

Loves it when he’s fucking you and you start vigorously rubbing your clit. Seeing you desperately chasing your orgasm always pushes him over the edge without fail

Foreplay is slow and romantic, usually involving lots of sweet talk and caressing before getting into the action

Loves surprising you in the bedroom. And on one very special night, he surprised you with an engagement ring…

Jimmy

You hung out at his place a lot. Even when it was just supposed to be a casual date, it always ended with him balls deep inside you

Always makes you suck your fingers clean after he’s had them inside you

Has ripped countless pairs of panties and tights straight off your body whenever he got too impatient

Likes slapping your cheek with his cock

“Yeah, you like that don’t you? Tch, fuckin’ slut”

Definitely a head pusher. Of course you always get your revenge by pulling onto his hair and pushing his head into your core

Absolutely terrible at eating pussy. You really have to guide him through it because otherwise he will just lap at it aimlessly and completely ignore your clit

If you leave any article of clothing by his place, he will huff it while masturbating

Probably even cums on it before returning it to you(if he even returns it at all)

Likes to cuddle after sex with his cock still inside you. One night while doing this he whispers to you, “Fuck…I should really marry you some day”

[grugruel]

ok hi! I woke up in the middle of the night and I had this amazing idea and I immediately thought about you, anyways.

We/reader?? Are married to Jayce and we wake up in the middle of the night because we are sweating and shit, so we take off our shirt and are now completely topless, Jayce wakes up and tries to persuade you to lay back in bed, so you turn around and he notices we are topless and boom! Evolves into smut.

I deeply apologise if this is too vague or too detailed…

Yes ofc! It's kind of short, and I took some creative liberties since the smut wasn't specified. But I hope you like it!😩

Taking Care of You

Pairings: ruined!jayce x wife!f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: After waking up from a nightmare, your husband comforts you. But as the bedroom grows cold, he finds himself in need of warming you up.

Wordcount: ca 1.3

Warnings: shower sex, pinv sex, petnames (honey, baby), creampie, praise ish, I love you's, domestic bliss.

AN: I've never been a "baby" girl, but this did sum.

Images flash by her eyes. Warped, iridescent structures and faceless humanoids devoid of mortality.

Crowding, they gather around her. Like schools of fish, no space, no breath. Stripped of flesh and blood, porcelain hands reach for her as they clank and clatter freakishly. She can feel their cold on her body, tearing and yanking, some steadying while other strive to push her off balance.

Suddenly, gold bejewled fingers lunge from the masses and lock around her throat. Small beauty mixing in with the cold horror. The fingers sinch, squeezing until-

She gasps, and her body acts in pure reflex. Throwing herself up, she scans the darkness surrounding her, chest heaving in panic.

But within a mixture of drowsyness and disorientation, her mind hasn't caught up. She doesnt know whats real. Her ears are ringing and cold sweat covers her body, drenching her top as the walls close in around her. Its suffocating her, she claws at her chest. She cant breathe, she cant breathe.

Amidst the confusion, her top pulls off and a touch and ice traces her skin. Her eyes widen in fear and launch into blind defense, mirthlessly slapping and pushing the creature away from her.

The streak of cold runs along her arms and cheek. "Hey, hey . . . It's okay," it says, voice finally reaching her as the buzzing of her mind dampens and her eyes adjust to the darkness. "You're alright." The cold brushes her skin, and as reslisation sets in, the sensation anchors her. "Breathe," the voice reminds her, and she does.

Her surroundings begin to materialise. The sheets beneath her, the wallpapered walls, and in front of her . . . Jayce. There are no pale faces, no lifeless fingers clasping at her throat. There's only Jayce.

"It was a nightmare," he whispers. "Nothing more." Strong hands slide down her shoulders, a touch of cool following in their wake. The wedding ring.

"It was-- the hexcore . . . I-" She shakes her head, trying to make sense of the things she'd seen. Looking down, she's notices her hands clasped around Jayce's wrists. Holding him so hard that her fingers turn white from the supression of bloodflow, so hard he might bruise.

But he doesn't complain, he doesn't even flinch.

In horror, she releases him, stiffly unlatching her grip. Like a statue reluctantly discarding a piece of itself.

With soft eyes and knitting brows, he pulls her into his lap, embracing her bridal-style. "Its over, you're safe." He kisses the top of her head.

Resting against his muscular shoulder, she feels the icy ring rub circles into her thigh, soothing her impossibly. "It felt so real," she murmurs.

Jayce nuzzles his face into her hair, taking a deep breath. "I know, honey," he sighs empathetically. The cold slides up her thigh and torso to then finally cradle her head, holding her steady against his chest.

Her gaze fixated on the gentle light billowing in through the windows and the dust particles it illuminates. A cold breeze chills her damp skin, sending a shiver down her spine and hardening her nipples. Following the stream of light, she finds the window noticeably ajar.

"It's cold," she whispers, looking up at him.

His eyes drift along her body, observing her raised skin, then begins to move. "I'll close the-"

"No," she stops him, unable to think of anything worse than leaving his lap in this moment. "Make me warm, Jayce."

He smiles softly. "You'll have to trust me, then."

She nods, and he lifts her off of the bed. There is truly nobody she would trust more.

-

Dimming the lights, candles have been lit and he enters the shower.

The water trickles down her body, running over and in-between every curve, washing her free of foam after Jayce has lathered her up.

He has taken his time to massage the soap into her skin, paying special mind to her breasts, waist and thighs. His hands gentle but firm, working through every knot and washing away every memory of her nightmare.

Lazily, she drapes her arms around his shoulders. "Get me any wetter and you'll have to bathe me," she jokes, and pulls him closer. Leaning in to whisper in his ear. "Now, are you going to do anything about that?" Her hand slips between their bodies, palming the rock hard member beneath his happy-trail.

Meeting her eyes, they glint with mischief. "Yes," he breathes, and she watches the way the water trickle from unkempt hair to his forehead as he pushes her against the wall.

How it makes paths down his face and follows the length of his nose, dripping from it's tip as he kisses her passionately.

How it rolls down his temples, the inside of his cheeks and finally pools beneath his chin as he hooks a hand beneath her leg and lines himself up with her entrance.

How beautifully he glistens in the warm, dim light as he thrusts inside of her, nearly knocking the breath out of her lungs.

Her nails come out, clawing at his back as he sets a steady pace. "Deeper, Jayce. Please," she begs, lips parted and breathless. Water droplets glossing her lips.

Dutiful as he is, he obides. Sliding his arm further through the hollow of her knee, he hooks her leg over his arm to raise it higher, gaining better access to her core, uterus even. Bracing his forearm against the wall next to her head, he pushes himself deeper. Expelling shudders all over his body in the process. "Fuck." He nuzzles his face against her profile. "You feel so good, baby," he whines, kissing the shell of her ear.

The pulse in her abdomen tightens at his words, she could never tire of the way he makes her feel. "More," she manages between moans, she just needs more of him, she wants him beneath her skin if possible. "You're doing so good." Her hand wraps around the back of his head, locking him in her embrace to keep them as close to one another as possible.

At her words, Jayce really puts his back into it. Thrusting ever harder, ever deeper into her body. It scratches her skin against the tile behind her with every thrust, but she doesn't care. A little pain was surely needed to balance out the ungodly pleasure he provided her with.

"Fuck, honey," he moans. "I love you, y-- do me so good."

"Mmm," she hums. Its high pitched, signaling her coming climax. "Almost there, love you too." She knits her brow in concentration and kisses Jayce's temple, purely out of gratitude for being the man he is.

The water pours over them as the pressure snaps and her wall breaks, her orgasm tearing through her like a giant wave. "Yes," she whimpers, tilting Jayce's head to face her. Their lips meeting in a greedy kiss as her exalted moans spilled into his mouth.

Feeling her pulse around his member, hearing her so satisfied. His thrusts go rigid and he spills inside her. With diminishing strength, he slowly lowers her leg and steps back, giving her a final neck on the cheek. "Warm?" He asks, waiting for the judgement of a job well-done or not.

"More than," she kisses his shoulder.

Turning the shower off, he steps out and spreads a towel between his arms expectantly, waiting for her to turn around. As she does so, he notices the scratches on her back. "Shit, Im sorry," he whispers, kissing the red, irritated skin before wrapping her in his embrace. He folds the towel around her like a gift, and rests his chin on her shoulder.

"It felt good, I don't mind."

"Oh?" He raises his eyebrows, a sly smile on his lips.

"Oh," she confirms.

-

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Its For the Mission

You had to go undercover for a mission. The mission? Seduce the target to get information out of them. Your target is incredibly weak to a pretty face and a little charm. A/N: The boys know why you're going undercover and what you have to do. [Requested by: 17kurodaayumu]

‼️TW‼️: sensitive topics; forced proximity w/ unwanted touching, hints of sexual harassment & assault

"It's for the mission. It's for the mission." You whispered to yourself with a nod. Here you were in the hotel room of who the Hunter's Association suspects may be the head of an organization that has been strategically causing dangerous outbreaks across the country. It didn't take much convincing for you to agree to being bait. However, you didn't expect to end up in your targets hotel room ..... alone.

They were more than willing to tell you everything while you laid on the charm thick, perhaps too thick. They constantly trailed their hand up and down your thigh inching closer and closer to your forbidden fruit. You'd slightly adjust your legs to keep their hand at bay, but it never lasted long. Their hands trailed all over your body leaving a slimy feeling on your skin. You choked back bile as they laid sloppy kisses on your neck.

They mumbled every detail to their plans as if drunk off your body. There it was, you had finally gotten all the information you needed out of them to make an airtight case. Before their hand could sweep up your thigh again you twisted their wrist, side stepping to slam them to the ground and called in your backup. Your team rushed in as you stumbled out of the room vomiting until you were dry heaving into a trashcan you snagged from the bathroom.

Zayne

Zayne waited outside the hotel to pick you up once you sent him a text that the job was done. "How did it go?" He asked, shrugging off his overcoat to drape over your shoulders. "It went....." Your voice trailed off as you recounted the events in your head. "Let's go."

The car ride was silent save for the low radio filling the space. You barely let Zayne put the car in park before you flung the door open and beelined straight for the bathroom. You practically ripped your clothes off leaving a trail from the front door to the bathroom.

Zayne leisurely trailed behind, locking the door, closing the blinds, and picking up your discarded clothes. He found you already in the shower, steam fogging up the glass door and mirror. He could see you viciously scrubbing your body as if you were trying to remove it all together.

Something was very wrong, Zayne opened the shower door to find you distraught and shaking. As you stood there with tears running down your face Zayne grabbed your wrist halting your movements. Your tearful gaze snapped up meeting his concerned eyes and furrowed brows. "Are you trying to hurt yourself?"

You shook your head as if trying to throw the memory out. "I have to get it off ... I need their touch off me ..." You'd rubbed your neck raw, a single drop of blood ran down your neck mixing with the water. "Let me help" Zayne whispered as he took the African net sponge from your hand and stepped into the shower still dressed in his button up and dress pants. "Zayne....your clothes...."

"This is not about me" You stood there silent as Zayne gently scrubbed your body working meticulously around your raw neck; that was going to need first aid. He held the shower-head to you body and rinsed the soap off while rubbing small circles with his thumb where the soap washed away.

Zayne stepped out first, leaving you under the cascade of warm water as he shed his wet clothes, quickly drying off and throwing a robe on and coming back to towel dry you off.

Securing the towel around your body he then scooped you up bridal style and sat you on the counter. The silence between you two was far from uncomfortable it was like a warm cup of tea on a rainy day.

Simply blissful.

Zayne dressed your wound and kissed your forehead. "Would you like me to leave now?" Your eyes bulged at his question and then you saw in his eyes how worried and unsure he was. "No stay. Please." He wasted no time changing into a pair of pajamas you kept for him and then dressing you. He laid down with, pulling you close and resting his chin on your head. “Do you still love me after what I had to do?”

“Without question”

Rafayel

Rafayel insisted on coming with you on your undercover mission. "I'll just be in the background you won't even know I'm there" You had no clue just how right he was. The night of your mission you couldn't spot him in the intimate club no matter how hard you tried. It was like he blended in with the air itself. So when you ended up back at the hotel you thought he’d abandoned you.

Once you were stumbling out of the room Rafayel was right there. He rubbed your back as you wretched into the trash can before wiping your mouth and lifting you up in his arms bridal style.

“Tell me what you want” He softly demanded as he gently folded you into the car. “A shower…..I feel disgusting” He nodded, closing the door and walking around to the drivers side. He played music and tried to engage you in some small talk, but you were having none of it. You gazed out the window with dead eyes rimmed with tears.

"It's okay I can walk" You told him when he offered to carry you on his back. Instead he walked with you, one hand on your lower back as he guided you to the bathroom. He placed a towel for you into a towel warmer and stepped out while you showered.

You opened the shower door to find him standing there, towel in hand. You told him everything that happened as he towel dried you off. He showered you in praises as he moved on to moisturizing your body. Nothing sexual just reminding you of how good a job you did and how brave you were to be the one to do such a risky job. "Im surprised you still even want to touch me" You mumbled as you stared at the wall. "I want my touch to be the only touch you remember"

Rafayel stayed by your side until you fell into a deep slumber. Once your breaths were steady and you didn't stir in your sleep when he stood from the bed; he slipped out into the night. Since you had all the information you needed your suspect could simply disappear right?

Xavier

Xavier was quick to get you far away from that hotel as quickly as possible. "Did they hurt you?" He spun you around as soon as you two were back in your apartment. He quickly scanned your body checking for any kind of bruises or wounds. "Not physically" You mumbled, staring off seemingly in a daze.

Xavier's shoulders deflated at your answer he knew exactly what you meant. He didn't push you for anymore answers since the entire mission was recorded and will be in the debriefing tomorrow. "Let's get you cleaned up" You nodded mechanically as he squatted down to carry you on his back.

He gently placed you on the bathroom counter and held your chin while he brushed your teeth for you. As soon as you spit he was tipping a cup of mouthwash into your mouth; while you swished that he wiped your makeup off. Xavier couldn't help but stare at you lovingly while you avoided eye contact ashamed of what you ended up doing.

Gripping your hips he pulled you from the counter setting you on your feet. You didn't fight him as he stripped you down and then himself. He showered with you in silence, gently scrubbing your body hoping his touch would help relax you.

It did.

You didn't look at him until he was pulling a pajama shirt over your head. His eyes lit up as you scanned his face "There she is" he whispered, cupping your face. You held onto his wrists as a few tears spilled from your eyes. "Am I still special to you?" Your voice cracked as you shook from the memory of what transpired just over an hour ago.

"You're everything to me"

Sylus

You needed to leave you slipped out amongst the chaos of your team coming in to collect the suspect. You rushed out of the hotel, your feet moving faster than your brain could keep up. You fumbled with your phone trying to call Sylus, but your hands were shaking too bad. Suddenly you heard a familiar sound coming from above you.

It was Mephisto! You looked up to see him circling above you before taking off north. You chased after him knowing he would be leading you straight to Sylus. You were running for what felt like forever, taking turn after turn always keeping Mephisto in sight.

Then you finally saw him. His tall frame at the end of the street. You sprinted as fast as you could throwing yourself in his arms. He swung you around holding you tightly to his body. "How'd it go?" his question was met with low sniffles and tears as you buried your face in his neck. "Main suspect is in custody. Can we go back to the N109 Zone now I don't want to be here anymore" You hug him tighter in hopes that the feel of him will dissolve the memory of the mission.

Once you got back to Sylus' home he didn't let your feet touch the ground until you were in his ensuite bathroom. He turned on the shower testing the water before turning to you. "Strip." was all he said and you listened. You shed each piece of clothing and placed them in his outstretched hand. "What are you going to do with them?"

"Dispose of them obviously" He held them with his evol as he held the shower door open for you. "Take your time and only change into that robe I'll have something for you fit for a queen." You didn't understand why he only wanted you in a robe. "I'm not really up for sex tonight Sy"

"I never said anything about sex Princess" His expression was soft as he nodded his head towards the shower. You stepped inside more than ready to wash away that strangers touch. You took your time even went as far to simply stand under the water and let the warmth engulf you.

You stepped out, following orders of not dressing and simply slipping into the plush robe that was left on the counter for you. Sylus wasn't in the bedroom when you came out leaving you confused. You turned to see Mephisto studying you before screeching a loud caw and flying out the door. You followed behind him and he led you to the other side of the house to a room that looked like an in-home spa.

There Sylus was sprinkling the last of a few rose petals into a large jacuzzi bathtub. "Why is this all the way on the other side of the house?" Your brows furrowed as Sylus circled around you, shutting the door and guiding you to the tub.

"This side of the house is quieter" He untied your robe and let it pool around your ankles. "I drew this bath so you could relax I could feel how tense your body was and still is" He held your hand as you climbed in and relaxed against the bath pillow. You instinctively closed your eyes and hummed as the jets massaged your body.

Your eyes snapped open when you heard something being set down and your arm being pulled from the bath. Sylus had pulled up a small stool to sit next to you. He'd rolled up his sleeves to his elbows and was now massaging your hand; making his way up your arm.

Sylus took his time massaging your entire body while you soaked in the tub. He hummed off-key with the softest smile on his face. "I don't deserve you" You whispered.

"You deserve the world, the sun, and the moon My Queen"

[buckets-and-trees]

FALLING AWAY

Characters/Pairings: Alpha!Bucky x Female!Omega!Reader Word Count: 1.5k Summary: After his public claiming of you, Bucky still has more in mind to show his takeover of the pack and the lands that he has annexed along with that power.

Content/Warnings: omegaverse; explicit smut: public sex, exhibitionism, vaginal penetration, breastplay, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding, biting/claiming

Author Notes: Sequel to the drabble I wrote for Alpha Bucky in April, but does not necessarily need to be read before reading this. Hitting the breeding kink for @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo June prompt; and the dialogue, noisy sex, and exhibitionism prompts for the first week of Hot Bucky Summer.

There’s only a small part of you that wishes giving in to the leader of the HYDRA pack had been more difficult.

To be fair, you had resisted until the lives of others were at stake.

At that point, standing on principles seemed selfish, especially when it was evident Alpha Bucky Barnes had unequivocally taken the upper hand.

And then he had taken you physically to seal his victory publicly in the town square, knotting you, ripping orgasms from you, making him beg for you, and claiming you with the first mating bite.

Now you walk towards him willingly underneath a full moon three nights later.

For two of those days, the alpha had been relentless in plying your body with pleasure and fucking you through states of pain and bliss into exhaustion.

He had left you alone today, but only to yield you into the hands of a team of betas who had bathed you; plucked, waxed, and trimmed your body hair; buffed your skin and rubbed it with mild sweet oils that complimented your natural scent; cleaned and arranged your hair; and dressed you in an impressive bridal gown of silk and lace, but no underwear.

Many alphas and omegas bonded without a ceremony, but some pairs still chose to participate in the formal affair.

Your omega side had yielded to him fully at his first bite.

This ritual, however, was something that hadn’t taken place in living memory - a conqueror’s bonding, only necessary when one alpha or pack assumed power over another.

As you step up next to him, surrounded by witnesses (official witnesses and unofficial but curious), a shiver runs down your spine as his piercing eyes rove over your heaving chest. He licks his lips.

There is no officiant at the altar, only the two of you.

You know he must feel the piece of you that is valiantly still trying to fight him, because he cocks his chin slightly, and his gaze hardens as he looks down at you.

He takes the half step necessary to close the small amount of space between you. He raises one hand, and traces his thumb over your first bonding mark, eliciting another shiver from your body, but it’s more powerful - visibly noticeable to everyone watching.

Humiliating, but also unfurls a shoot of desire in your belly.

He then lets his hand rest there at the base of your neck, holding you, steadying you.

“Omega,” he utters, the deep tone seeming to wrap around your chest, the only word to signal what he wants next.

And so you tilt your head to the side, baring your neck to him.

A double bonding is biologically unnecessary, some couples engage in it, but the second claiming at midnight on a full moon was the sign of consolidation of power to the alpha and submission by the omega.It was predatory, performative, political.

Though there was the small part of you still clawing at you to fight him, you can not deny the part that had rooted in you that wanted him, wanted this, yearned for this claiming - so much so that you gasp and one of your hands shoots up to tangle in his hair as his teeth sink in to your neck, marking you a second time.

The rush of it is more than physical, though. You are flooded with even more of him inside of you, the bond doubling with the second bite.

His tongue laps at the fresh bonding mark, and you mewl softly and sink slightly into his chest.

“Up on the altar,” he instructs. “Present for me in front of these witnesses.”

His request comes as no surprise, even if you hadn’t anticipated it.

He had fucked you in public before, totally unabashed, why would he not subject you to that again? It had not been detailed in the historical records for this rite, but surely other conquering alphas had done more than merely administer the second bite when it said they claimed an omega for the second time.

And it was well known that knotting and breeding at the full moon enhanced the possibility of conception when an alpha knotted an omega.

All the better to ensure compliance and alliance.

But as Bucky pushes the delicate layers of silk and lace up over your bare ass once you are kneeling on the altar, the semantics leave your mind, and all you can focus on are his movements and the vague awareness that there is an audience to everything happening.

He sinks two of his vibranium fingers into your cunt, and he hums at finding you slick and wet for him already. He pumps those fingers slowly, priming you.

Shamefully, you whine when he removes them. You should be more resistant, more ashamed that he’s going to fuck you in front of a crowd again, shouldn’t you?

But he’s immediately crawling up on the altar behind you, kneeling between your legs, pushing your knees further apart to accommodate your big, burly alpha, the largest man you’ve encountered in your life. He leans over your back, his thighs meeting the backs of yours, his coarse hair a stark contrast to your smooth skin there. He grips the back of your neck and turns your head so you’re looking back at the crowd.

His lips are at your ear as he speaks only loud enough for you to hear. “I’m going to take this slow, and I’m going to fuck this cunt until there’s no one left to watch.”

You shudder beneath him.

“You may pretend to be disgusted or ashamed, but after the other night, I think you like it.”

”No,” you breathe, and turn your head away from the scores of eyes glued your coupled actions.

”Yes, Omega,” he says. He moves his hips, rubbing the length of his cock against your wet pussy and the thatch of pubic hair growing damp with the mess of your slick as his hard length moves up and down against you. He tugs at the neckline of your dress until your breasts spill out.

“You like how they watch, you like how it feels to have them watch, to hold their attention, their lust, their envy, their fascination.”

His hands have been skimming over the swells of your breasts, but now he punctuates the last word with a tweak to one of your nipples, and you yelp.

“You don’t have to admit it, ‘mega,” he continues to murmur right next to your cheek, his hot breath affecting you just as much as every other feeling of him against and along your body. “I could feel the moment your body surrendered to the pleasure and debauchery the other night, and I know I will feel you hit that surrender again tonight.”

He gives your nipple another, harsher tweak, eliciting another yelp, but then he palms your breast, and you can’t help but moan.

“That’s a start,” he says, then licks the shell of your ear, sending a ripple of pleasure down your neck and spine.

“Alpha,” you plead - but for what you’re not sure.

He presses you down into the full presentation position, your face and chest forced down to the altar, and he leans back up straight. While his right hand holds you down, his left hand guides the tip of his cock to your entrance, and you keen for him.

He notches just the tip of himself into your tight heat.

“Louder, let everyone hear you,” he says, then sinks in to the hilt with one slow, powerful thrust, and you do moan openly at the fullness.

He has you so full with his cock that it’s like you can feel him everywhere inside you.

“Let them see without question who you willingly belong to now, Omega.” You can’t tell if it’s a taunt or an endearment at this point, but he grips your hip with his vibranium hand and begins to fuck you in a way that has you forgetting every thought that isn’t him in a matter of moments as with a double bond, the way your dual pleasure mingles and feeds off of each other falls away and all you want, breathe, feel, and crave is him. More of him. And maybe that is more of you showing anyone watching how well you take your alpha and how the pleasure he exacts from you is beyond anything you’ve felt before.

“Going to knot you and fill you with my seed until you’re bursting and dripping my spend, Omega, fuck a pup into you.”

And as you steadily are worked towards your first orgasm of the night, you know you will take him and all his complications and complexities because this - this all-consuming feeling that only he has ever given you - is undeniable and you’re insatiable for it and the enigma that is your alpha.

You scream of ecstasy shatters the atmosphere of the room, scattering some away, but drawing some to take a step closer, but you’re oblivious to the effect, and only urge your alpha to give you more.

JUMP TO PART THREE: EVERY MINUTE OF IT full Fine Line Collection

So. Yes. I didn’t think I’d write more for these two, but here we are. How ya feeling, friend?

Technically mean alpha Bucky wasn’t winning the poll I put out earlier today, but he was still haunting my muse, so I had to write him anyway… so I guess that means you’ll still be seeing the poll winner from me later this weekend.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[cumonstevie]

Home Sweet Home

Summary: "It's good to be home," you think as you arrive back in Hawkins, Indiana; not only three years older, but also as a mother.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: mentions of sexual acts but not detailed

A/N: guys I'm really excited to post this frfr, I'll edit it later. I think there might be 4 parts to this, but we'll see. Also, this is like, 3.6k words and I tweaked the timeline a bit so don't worry about the logistics fr 😶 I hope you like it!

“God, Nance��” Steve panted as he tried to catch his breath from above you.

The blissful haze suddenly bursts as his words registered in your head and you open your eyes with a frown. “What?”

“Huh?” He doesn’t even realize what he’s said and that upsets you even more.

“Get off me.”

“What?” Steve lifts his head from the crevice of your neck to look at you.

“I said get off of me.”

He’s confused. “Did I do something wrong?”

“I said get off!” You raise your voice, tears already threatening to spill from your eyes.

Still confused, Steve complies and moves beside you on his bed. You immediately sit up with his blanket covering your body as you search for your clothes while he covers himself with a pillow.

“Y/N,” he calls, “Y/N what happened?”

You ignore him and pull your shorts on before searching for the rest of your clothes. Steve hurries and puts his boxers on, carefully walking over to you.

“Did I hurt you?” He slowly and softly touches your shoulder after you had just put your bra back on.

“Don’t touch me!” You whip around to face him and he immediately retreats his hand like you burned him.

“What did I do!?” He raises his voice. “Tell me what I did! I-I thought we were having a good time-”

“Yeah, we were,” you start as you finally tug your shirt on over your head, “until you called me Nancy.”

The color drains from his face once those words leave your mouth and he seems deep in thought, probably trying to recall the moment he called you a different name.

“Y/N I- I don’t- She-”

He’s at a loss for words. What could he possibly say to make this better? He doesn’t even remember calling you Nancy but by the tears silently slipping from your eyes, he knows you’re telling the truth and it crushes him to see you like this.

You and Steve have known each other since sixth grade. The pair of you had to sit next to each other for a semester which brought you two very close. You stayed friends for the remainder of the year and continued to be friends since.

You didn’t start having feelings for Steve until freshman year. It had just stopped raining when the two of you exited the movie theater and on the walk back home, there was a massive puddle blocking your way. You told him you were fine walking through it, he disagreed saying you’d get the bottom of your skirt wet and dirty. You told him that it was fine and that you could just wash it when you got home, he said no and with a blink of an eye he had picked you up, bridal style, walking across the puddle and getting his shoes dirty.

You told him he didn’t have to do that but he just shrugged and continued to carry you. You took this time to study his features and suddenly a strange feeling erupted from the pit of your stomach. When did Steve get so cute? Was he always like this? How did you never notice it before?

He sets you down at your doorstep with a grin and you finally come back to. You thank him, not only for taking you to the movie theater but for carrying you as well. He says it’s no big deal and “what are friends for?”.

For the rest of the night, you replayed that moment in your head.

Sophomore year came around rather quickly and just one month into the school year, Steve was dating a freshman named Nancy Wheeler. She was really sweet and very kind and boy did you envy her. Because she had what you wanted. Steve. As her boyfriend.

They dated for a year and you really got to know her, even befriend her. You also befriended a peculiar boy named Jonathan and an even more peculiar boy named Eddie. Your junior year, to complete your little friend group, you befriended a talkative girl named Robin.

And maybe a couple of middle schoolers. But to be fair, you only became friends with them because two of them were your friends' little siblings.

Steve and Nancy broke up a few days after their one year anniversary. Steve was torn. You were there for him, like always.

Seven months after Steve and Nancy called it quits, you finally decide to tell him that you have feelings for him. You’re extremely nervous. He doesn’t say anything but he does pull you into a kiss which leads to the two of you being intimate which then leads to the moment at hand.

“You’re unbelievable.” You scoff, throwing your bag over your shoulder and shoving past Steve.

“Wait-” He takes your hand in his to stop you but you yank it away.

“No!” You shout, “God, I thought you felt the same way about me! You kissed me!”

“I do feel the same way!” He looks at you with panic-stricken eyes.

“No you don’t!” You take a step away from him. “You’re still hung up over Nancy. I’m so stupid. God, we- we had-” You trail off, pressing the palm of your hand to your head. “Shit. I need to go.”

“Y/N please wait. Let me explain-”

“Just leave me alone, Steve.” You interrupt him. “Please leave me alone.”

He stands at the doorway of his room, defeated, as he watches you walk down the hall and disappear down the stairs. When he hears the front door slam shut he closes his eyes and bangs his fist against the doorframe.

After that day, you did everything to avoid him. You didn’t talk to him in class, you were always one of the first people to leave, you didn’t answer his phone calls, you begged your mom and dad to tell Steve you weren’t home whenever he’d stop by, you even started having lunch in the library with Eddie just to avoid him.

You continued to do all of that for the remainder of the school year and when summer came around, you and your family ended up moving to Michigan. Not because of the Steve situation, your parents didn’t even know what happened between the two of you. The only one who knew was Eddie. Your dad got a job offer and decided to take it. At least avoiding Steve would be way easier now.

You told your friends about the move and although they were sad, they wished you well with whatever came next for you and you did the same for them.

With one last group hug, you bid farewell to your friends and farewell to Hawkins.

-

Starting your senior year of high school being four months pregnant was not ideal. You only found out after the move and when you told your parents they were deeply disappointed. Their 17 year old daughter falling pregnant was not what they had wanted for you and as reluctant as they were when you told them you wanted to keep it, they were supportive. They told you it would be tough but it was a risk you were willing to take.

You blurted it out to Eddie one night when the two of you were speaking on the phone. He was telling you about how Nancy and Jonathan had started dating and how Robin was in band now, also telling you that she looked absolutely ridiculous in her uniform and that he’d mail you photos of her in it so you could laugh as well. He caught you up with the kids drama and made sure to avoid the topic of Steve.

Eddie was telling you about some D&D campaign he created when it slipped.

“All I have to do is tell those little squirts that-”

“I'm pregnant.”

There's a moment of silence before you hear Eddie's voice again. “Nooo... Why would I tell them that?”

“Eds..." You sighed.

“Ace… You're not- Are you serious?”

Ace. A nickname he gifted you when you annihilated him in a game of cards once.

“As a heart attack.”

“Oh my god…” He whispered. “Who knows? Is it… Steve's?”

You shut your eyes and rub your left temple. “Yes, it's his and no one knows but my parents and now, you."

"Y/N/N... holy shit. Are you gonna tell him?"

The thought had crossed your mind on several occasions.

“No.” You reply.

“Y/N-”

“And you're not gonna say anything to anyone, Eddie. I mean it. Not the kids, not Nancy, not Jonathan, not Robin, and especially not Steve, you hear me?"

Eddie let's out a defeated sigh. “Loud and clear.” The two of you are quiet for a few seconds before he talks again. “Can I at least know why you're choosing not to tell him?”

“I just- I don't want to ruin whatever plans he has for the future. He's probably still hung up on Nancy anyway and besides, I doubt we'll ever see each other again.” You spill. “It's better this way.”

“Whatever you say, Ace.” You can tell he's not happy with your answer. “My lips are sealed.”

January 1985 is when you gave birth to a healthy baby girl who you named Penelope.

Penelope Eden Y/L/N.

You had sent pictures of her to Eddie with a note explaining that Eden was close to his name and that’s why you chose it while also saying he would be the best uncle to your little girl. He called you that same day, pretending like he wasn’t crying on the other end as he told you how happy he was.

Two and a half years later, you and your parents move back to Hawkins. You debated on whether or not you were going to stay in Michigan but ultimately decided on following your parents back home. Sure, you made a few friends here and there but nothing would beat your friends back in Hawkins.

Eddie was practically bouncing off the walls when you told him over the phone one night. You promised him the two of you would meet up the minute you were done settling in.

A week after moving back to Hawkins, Eddie came over to your place with a hug for you and about three toys for Penelope. You told him he didn’t have to get her three of them but he shrugged and said he didn’t know which one she would like so he just got them all.

You were about to protest when he held his hand up to your face and said, “Ace, as her favorite uncle, it's my job to get her anything and everything she ever wants.”

For the rest of the time he was there, he bonded with Penelope and the two of you talked about what has been going on for the past 3 years. He told you his band was booking small gigs here and there and you told him you’d go to a few of them when given the chance. Once the catching up died down and it got later in the day, he suggested a reunion with your former friends.

“Come on, Ace, it'll be fun. I’ll invite everyone to my place-” He had gotten an apartment recently. Nothing too big, but just enough for him and his things. “-I won't tell them you're here and when they all show up, BAM! Surprise!”

“Mmm… I don't know, Eds.”

He knows why you’re hesitant.

“Steve won't be there, I promise. He doesn't really hang with us that much anymore. The only one who sees him often is Robin and that's because they work together.” He holds your hand with both of his as he looks at you with pleading eyes. “Please, Ace? It'll only be me, Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, Dustin, Max, Lucas, Will, Mike, and El. Just us. They all miss you just as much as I do.”

He continues to beg and you think it over in your head.

“You promise Steve won't be there?”

“I pinky promise.”

“If he is, I’m breaking your guitar.”

“Deal.” He doesn't miss a beat.  “That's how confident I am that he won't be there.”

-

Eddie had picked you and Penelope up a couple of days later and you helped him set up a few things for the little reunion that was about to take place in less than an hour. Eddie made sure to tell them to all arrive at the same time and as confused as they were, they obliged.

Your hands began to get clammy as time got closer and closer to your friends arriving. You didn’t know why you were so nervous to see them. They were your friends for crying out loud!

Maybe it was the fact that in a couple of minutes they’d all be meeting your two-and-a-half-year-old daughter who they had no clue even existed yet, who also just so happens to look identical to your former best friend. Yeah, that’s exactly why you were so nervous.

“Eds, I’m nervous.” You voice to him as you eye the clock on the wall.

“It’ll be okay.” He rubs your shoulders in a soothing manner. “They’re gonna freak when they see you. In a good way, though. Maybe even pass out when they see Pen.”

Your eyes widen. “That’s not helping. I think I’m about to have a heart attack.”

“You’re fine. Relax, everything is going to be alright.”

He helps you regulate your breathing and when he finally has you calmed down, there’s a knock at the door.

“Oh my god.” You panic. There’s another knock on the door.

“Come on, Eddie, open the door! it’s hot as hell out here!” You recognize the voice as Mike’s and you cover your mouth, eyes wide as you look over at Eddie.

“I’m gonna throw up!”

“No you’re not! Not in my living room, at least.” He whisper-yells back to you. “Take Pen, go into my room, and shut the door. I’ll come and get you when everyone is inside.”

You nod, your stomach doing somersaults as you quickly walk over to Penelope and pick her up. As you shut Eddie’s room door, you tell your daughter to be quiet by putting your finger to your lips and going, “shhh.”

She does the same thing back to you, showing you that she understood.

You could hear a couple of voices from outside of the room and you nervously started tapping your foot against the floor as you waited for Eddie to come get you. About a minute goes by when you finally hear him tell everyone he has something to show them.

You hear Max groan and say, “You better not have gathered all of us here just to show us another one of your new guitars.”

He’s offended by the statement and defends himself, making you believe that he has gotten them all together just to show them one of his new instruments before. You stifle a laugh.

Eddie opens the door slowly so as to not scare you and motions behind him. “You ready?”

You take a deep breath and nod. Eddie guides you down the hall and you unintentionally hold onto Penelope a bit tighter.

“Surprise!” Your friend shouts just as you turn the corner into his living room.

Dustin was mid stuffing his face with chips when he saw you. Everyone’s movements were paused, eyes wide as they stared at you.

“Oh my gosh…” Jonathan managed to get out.

“Y/N!” Robin is the first to jump up off her seat and gather you in a hug.

It’s like her actions bursted through everyone's bubbles because one by one they all came up to you with tears threatening to spill.

“It’s been so long!”

“Are you back for good?”

“How have you been?”

“How long are you here for?”

“We missed you!”

“How-”

“Wait!” Robin interrupted, “We’re all glad you’re back but uh, is this your baby sister or…?”

Everyone’s attention is now on Penelope and your heart starts beating faster. She’s oblivious to what’s happening at the moment and is even reaching over towards Dustin’s hair.

You clear your throat. “Guys, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Penelope. Penny, say hi!” you take her tiny hand and wave to your friends as she says a small “hi.”

There’s a beat of silence before they start speaking at once.

“Daughter?!”

“What the f-”

“Watch your mouth, dingus, there’s a baby present.”

“Sorry…”

“I can’t believe you’re a mom.”

“Who’s the dad?”

“Mike! You can’t just ask that!”

“Why not?”

You feel yourself getting overwhelmed the more and more they ask questions. Eddie senses this quiets them down.

“Guys, guys! Let’s all settle down. I’m sure Y/N will answer all your questions in a bit and even so, she doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to. Let’s all just appreciate the fact that she’s back, alright?”

Everyone agrees and says sorry. You tell them it’s okay and offer to tell them what they want to know as you move to sit on the couch. Penelope wiggles out of your arms and walks over to Dustin who was sitting on the floor beside you with the rest of the kids.

“Oh,” he says, “hi.”

Penelope grabs a fistful of his hair pulling ever so slightly before letting his curls go and watching them spring back up. This makes her giggle and she does it again.

“Penny, no. We don’t pull people’s hair.” You tell her before fixing your gaze to Dustin. “Sorry Dusty, she likes to play with people’s hair. Especially people with curly hair.”

“It’s okay,” he smiles, “I don’t mind. Here,” he takes his hair and pulls it before letting it go, showing your daughter that he was okay with her doing it again. She giggles and tugs his hair again.

“Okay,” you sigh as you scan over everyone in the room, “What do you want to know?”

-

You had just finished updating them on everything that has happened since you left. You didn’t go into too much detail, just told them that the father of your baby was someone you met when you moved to Michigan and that when he found out you were pregnant, he bailed.

You didn’t mention anything about Steve and to your knowledge, no one even knew that you guys were involved at one point.

They didn’t ask any further questions about Penelope or her father. They either were done asking or they didn’t want to pry any further just yet. Instead, you moved on and told them about your time in Michigan and asked about what they had all been up to over the past 3 years.

Nancy and Jonathan were still together, Robin has a crush on a girl named Vickie and is too chicken-shit to ask her out, Dustin met some girl at a science camp he went to and now they’re dating, Mike and El were still together, same as Max and Lucas, Will was still playing third wheel (poor Will), and you found out that Joyce and Hopper had gotten together which threw you for a loop.

“Wait, wait, wait-” you shake your head, “your mom-” you point a finger between Will and Jonathan, “-is dating Hopper? Jim Hopper, like the guy who never cracks a smile? The guy who doesn’t enjoy like, anything?”

“Yep.”

“That’s the one.”

“Well,” you start, “you find love in mysterious places with mysterious people, I guess. At least they’re happy.”

You turn your attention to your daughter who was in the middle of playing with Max, El, Dustin, and Lucas. They were helping her build a little tower. Well, they were doing most of the work, she was putting blocks on the tops of their heads saying, “stay!”

“Aww I wish I brought my camcorder, they’re so cute.” You pout.

“I brought my camera!” Jonathan says as he pulls it out of his bag, “I could snap a couple of photos for you.”

“Why’d you bring your camera?” Eddie questioned.

“I bring my camera everywhere.”

“Freak.”

“Says the freak.”

You’re glad to see that not much has changed within your friend dynamic.

“I’d love it if you’d take photos of them playing with Penny.” You tell Jonathan. “I’ll even pay you!”

He scoffs as he snaps his first picture. “That’s not necessary Y/N. We’re friends. Plus, I just self-appointed as Penny’s uncle so if you want me to take photos of my niece, I will.”

“Oh, you self-appointed, huh?” You say with an amused smile.

“Yep.”

“Let’s not let things get out of hand,” Eddie interrupted, “I’m still and always will be Pen’s favorite uncle.”

“We’ll see about that.” Dustin’s voice cut through the air.

“Stay outta this, Frodo.”

“Guys,” you interrupt them, “I’m sure she’ll love you all the same. Now-”

You were cut off when you heard the front door open then shut.

“Sorry I’m late,” a voice you hadn’t heard in a while dances around the room and you feel ill. “I’m assuming my invite got lost in the mail because I know my friends would never meet up and not tell me, right Eddie?”

He finally comes into view yet he hasn’t seen you and you feel like you’re about to throw up. You hadn’t spoken to him since he shattered your heart that fateful day in his bedroom. He looked older, a bit more mature. His hair was all the same, however. Maybe just a tad bit longer but nonetheless the same.

Your heart is pounding at this point. It feels like it’s about to pop out of your chest. Not a good feeling.

“So,” Steve starts, “what’s going-”

He finally sees you and his words fall off. It looks like he’s about to throw up too.

Eyes wide and jaw slacked, Steve manages to say one thing.

“Y/N…?”

“Aw man…” you hear Eddie murmur.

You inhale deeply and slowly turn your head to the one person who promised you that he wouldn’t be here. Eddie is looking at you, utterly terrified, as he chokes out;

“Please don’t hurt my guitar…”

[mlm-writer]

Aftertaste (Eddie & Venom x GN!Reader)

Pairing:  Eddie Brock & Venom x Gender Neutral Bottom Reader Rating: Mature for discussion of sex Words: 918 POV: Second Summary: After some kinky sex (<- click for the prequel), Eddie and Venom take care of you. Oh and Eddie experiences some mild dom drop. Note: Guess who's back? Back again? Gayden's back! Tell a friend! Tags: aftercare, dom drop, hurt & comfort, cuddling, could be read as romantic, could be read as you're fwb and reader's physical appearance is not described

A trail of cum connected the corner of your mouth with the puddle of cum on the tiles below your cheek. At the start of the evening, those tiles had been cold, but underneath you they have been warmed by your spent body. With the post-orgasm bliss fading into the background, you started noticing the soreness settling in your muscles. A warm hand gentle pushed your hair to the side and out of your eyes. In the dim light, you could see warm, concerned eyes staring down at you. “Are you with me?” Eddie spoke between laboured breaths. You licked his cum off the corner of your lips and smiled at him. “Good,” he added when he understood your non-verbal signal. He seemed relieved, smiling down at you with awe and surprise. 

Seemingly out of nowhere, a towel appeared next to Eddie. However you could still spot the black tendril holding it up by a corner. Eddie took it and folded it up. He lifted your head and wiped your face with one side, before placing it under your face with the other side up. You could feel wet tendrils squeezing between your skin and all the duct tape restricting your movement. The sticky tape came off easily with Venom’s gentle wriggling, leaving no redness on your skin nor taking any hairs from your flesh. Once freed, you stretched your legs out, ending up face down on the floor. “That can’t be comfortable,” Eddie commented. 

“Let us carry you to the couch,” Venom softly mused in your ear. You hummed in reply, bracing yourself. Eddie and Venom merged into one and Eddie’s warm hands wormed their way under your body. He rolled you over and then carried you bridal style to the couch, where a blanket was already waiting for you. Venom’s tendrils wrapped the old fleece blanket around your bodies, protecting you from the chill in the apartment. “You must drink,” the symbiote commanded. He materialised another appendage to somehow make grabbing a glass of water a very perilous and loud endeavour. You thanked him when he eventually got the glass to you. You meant to sip on it, but in just a few seconds, the glass was empty. Venom put the empty glass on the coffee table for you. “Are you feeling satisfied now?” 

You chuckled at Venom’s word choice. “Very much so, Venom. Thank you.” You rested your head on Eddie’s shoulder. “What about the two of you?” Your question was met with a long pause. “Eddie?” You twisted your neck to look at his face. He was clearly thinking of something, but whatever that brain was cooking up, he was not sharing it with you at the moment. 

“Eddie, why are we feeling… guilty?” Venom’s voice was unusually small. It must be bad to affect Venom this much. You reached back, scratching gently at his scalp. Now you were paying attention, you could feel how tense Eddie’s muscles were under you. 

“Talk to me, Eddie,” you whispered as you moved underneath the blanket to straddle his lap. He avoided your eyes at first, but your hand resting at the back of his neck got him comfortable enough to really look at you. It felt like he was staring into your soul for the answers to questions he didn’t dare ask. He took a deep breath, before finally speaking up. 

“You really liked…” He waved his hand in the air as he tried to formulate words that were family-friendly enough that he could get them out of his mouth. That man fucking you within an inch of your life was nowhere to be found. “You liked us going back and forth, right? Like actually, for real?” He looked at you through his lashes. You huffed out a relieved augh and nodded eagerly. “Okay… okay good,” he huskily spoke between weighted breaths. 

You cupped his face and made him look at you. “Hey, Eddie, look at me.” You exaggerated your breathing, showing him slow, deep breaths. Eddie followed suit, following your breathing pattern. “Good boy,” you teased him once he no longer seemed like he was going to crawl out of his own skin and hide in the corner. You kissed his nose and caressed his face. “If I think too much about it, yeah the going back and forth was fucking filthy, but that kind of made it hot? And there is nothing wrong with that.” Eddie seemed to agree with you. A few deep breaths and he could nod more confidently. You leaned against his body, resting your head on his shoulder. You stayed like that for a while, until you thought too much about the wild sex you just had. “Ok, I am ready to brush my teeth now and gargle some mouthwash.” 

Eddie chuckled and helped free you from the fleece blanket. “Need any help?” He offered as he watched you stand up. There was dried cum on your body, your skin still glistening with sweat and your hair a wild mess. He wanted to burn that image in his mind. 

You looked at him over your shoulder and cocked up an eyebrow. “Why? Think I don’t know how a toothbrush works?” When you saw how your words pulled Eddie from his trance, you chuckled. He opened his mouth to probably tell you that was not what he meant, but your smile told him you knew. You shook your head in amusement and left Eddie on the couch. “See you space cowboy.” 

—————

REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR FANFIC WRITERS

Likes do not help exposure! A comment in tags or replies can prevent writer's block, even if the work is a decade old (not that I have works on here that are that old)!

[oldwritingm]

Sorry this is kinda short!! I just had thoughts and. here they are

Ninjago - Getting All Tucked In

Kai

BODYSLAMS YOU

I am so sorry but… that’s just how it is with him

He’ll wait until you’re all tucked in, then he’ll run at the bed and JUMP

Sometimes he aims to land on you, sometimes he aims for the place next to you

Just imagine that one markiplier gif (see below) but instead of going to punch you he has his arms open to wrap around you

^ him every night

Once you’re done scolding him for. that. Then he’ll cuddle up next to you as an apology

Unfortunately no amount of scolding will ever deter him from doing this literally every night

It’s rather jarring to go from “ah I’m ready for bed” to “IM BEING BODYSLAMMED” to “ah time for bed” again, but you both somehow don’t lose sleep over it

Cole

Likes to carry you to bed :]

The way I see it, you’ll both wait until you’re super sleepy before heading to bed

Then, wherever you are, he’ll insist on scooping you up to carry you

Even if you’re both just in the bathroom brushing your teeth and the bed is five steps away

He won’t hear any protests you give

It’s lowkey an excuse to hold you and cuddle when you settle down shhhh

If you start to fall asleep while he’s carrying you, he’ll be extra careful not to wake you

He also likes to switch up how he carries you, depending on his mood

Sometimes he’ll carry you bridal style, sometimes he’ll give you a piggy back, sometimes he just throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes (gently)

After a while you learn to just give in to it

Also always smiles while he carries you :)

Zane

He doesn’t just wait until you’re in bed; he waits until you’re at least half asleep

He’ll find something to do while he waits (usually chores)

Why does he do this? He doesn’t want to disturb you :(

But honestly it’s more disturbing how quiet he is when he finally tucks himself in

Like… does he think you’re going to murder him?? Why is he literally in full ninja mode

You actually get scared when he does this at least once

One moment you’re alone in bed and the next you sleepily open your eye and THERES SOMEONE NEXT TO YOU—oh it’s just Zane

You’ve tried to talk to him about it before, but he always insists on “not disrupting your routine”

He’s definitely anxious about getting in your way/disturbing you, but he also likes how peaceful you look as he silently slips in beside you

It’s relaxing for him to see you like that before he starts to recharge himself :]

Jay

Insists on being tucked in

He HAS to be the first in bed; he will literally run ahead of you to ensure this

If you ever get in before him, he’ll just sit on top of the covers and stare at you

If you play dumb (bc you know what he wants) he’ll clear his throat like “um I’m waiting”

Literally so needy 😭

He just loves the way you pull the covers over him and kiss his forehead

And when you slide in next to him? Bliss

It makes him feel safe knowing that you’re the one seeing him off to sleep

Not only does he get to see you before he drifts off (so he knows you’re there with him and you’re safe), but he trusts you more than anyone

He may be needy but he deserves someone like you who will do this for him :( my boy has trust issues

Lloyd

He likes to get in bed at the exact same time

You guys get ready for bed at the same time too 😌 I think you’d have a shared routine :3c

You’ll both go to one side of the bed and climb in, scooting closer together until you meet in the middle

Bc of course you’re gonna cuddle, it’s Lloyd

I like to imagine that you both wrap one arm around each other and use your free arms to pull the covers up together

Some teamwork right before sleeping 💪

You’d probably fall asleep first

Mostly because he can only relax once he feels you relaxing too

Your slow breathing becomes his slow breathing, your heartbeat becomes his heartbeat

A soft smile comes to his lips as he drifts off, and internally he’s thanking you for being there with him :)

It definitely helps with nightmares to wake up to another body next to his; one that’s calm and grounding

Nya

She gets in bed WAY after you

She likes to stay up, what can I say

An early bird and a night owl 😔

Dw though, she always tells you goodnight when you go to bed

Then, several hours later, she’ll come in and slide into bed next to you

OR BEHIND YOU AND SHES THE BIG SPOON OUUGHHHHH

She’ll wrap her arms around you and pull you in to kiss your head

If you stir awake, she shushes you, already half-asleep herself

But she doesn’t really try not to disturb you; she’s way too sleepy for that

So you probably will actually stir awake at some point

But then you both fall asleep pretty quickly, just cozied up together <3

Thank you so much for reading!! Take care my loves <33

(divider by saradika)

[https-lvesick]

RUNAWAY BRIDE ★ huang renjun

summary . . ♡ Just weeks before your wedding, doubts begin to creep in, and on the big day, you panic and make a break for it. Desperate and still in your bridal gown, you flag down a passing car driven by a friendly stranger. He offers to take you to safety, but what starts as a temporary stop turns into something much more. As you hide from the life you left behind, feelings grow, and the lovely stranger finds he doesn’t want you to leave.

pairing . . ♡ renjun x rich girl!reader

word count . . ♡ 23k

genre . . ♡ fluff, angst, smut, strangers to friends to lovers, love at first sight

content . . ♡ family issues, renjun is downbad since day one, reader used to be a good girl, but now she's a big girl, mentions of jeno x reader (briefly), minhyuk and hajoon are assholes the whole time, jealous renjun, other nct members and idols make appearance.

smut content . . ♡ a lot of kissing, unprotected sex, masturbation (both), fingering, cum eating, cunnilingus, humping, fellatio, reader compares renjun with minhyuk but in a good way, (mentions of) multiple rounds.

You stared at yourself in the mirror for the thousandth time. Your eyes traced every detail—the flawless hairstyle, the delicate diamond tiara, the long white dress with intricate lace sleeves, and the impeccable makeup. Pride swelled within you for reaching this milestone, for taking the first step in building your future family. But why? Why did you feel so heavy with dread? Why did every thought of a future with your fiancé fill you with unease instead of joy?

The door creaked open, and one of your bridesmaids—your best friend—entered the room. Her radiant smile was contagious, filled with pride and warmth. It almost made you believe in the illusion of a blissful future. Because this was the right thing to do.

Wasn’t it?

"Here’s your bouquet..." she said, placing the bundle of crimson roses in your hands. Red roses, the ultimate symbol of love, carefully adorned with tiny diamonds nestled between the blooms. Joy beamed with excitement, far more emotional than you felt. Her eyes drifted to your trembling hands, interpreting it as a case of perfectly reasonable wedding jitters.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, taking your hands in hers. You inhaled deeply, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

"Nervous," you admitted with a weak, insincere smile. Everything about this moment felt like a facade. "My heart’s racing faster than one of Sung’s monologues."

She chuckled, and for a fleeting second, the tension eased. Was the rapid beat of your heart merely pre-wedding anxiety? Or was it doubt?

"That’s perfectly normal," Joy reassured, her tone as light as if describing a fairytale. "I felt exactly the same on my wedding day. Trust me, the nerves disappear the moment you say ‘I do’ and seal it with a kiss."

For her, this was magic. It was supposed to be for you, too. You had always dreamed of this moment—finding the perfect man, getting married, building a life together, a house filled with love, children, the happiness you grew up surrounded by. You had always wanted to create that for yourself.

While Joy hums your favorite song, her voice light and soothing as she glides—almost dances—around the room, tidying up stray objects, you glance at the mirror once more. A deep breath fills your lungs as you close your eyes, trying to conjure a vision of a happy future with Minhyuk. But it’s the same as before: not the image of a fulfilled life, but of an unhappy woman trapped in her own story. Now, though, even that vision is gone. It’s as if... there is nothing after the ‘I do.’

Your eyes flutter open. Joy, still twirling around the room with a smile on her face, sings in that melodic voice that always brings you peace. You stare at your reflection again, knowing there’s still a chance—one fleeting chance—to make the right choice.

"Joy?" you call softly. Her attention snaps to you instantly, her warmth as comforting as always. "Could you get me some water? I think these nerves are really getting to me..." Your voice trembles just enough, sounding perfectly fragile—exactly like the version of yourself everyone expects. Joy giggles at your tone, unaware of anything unusual.

"Of course," she says cheerfully, excusing herself before slipping out the door.

You draw another deep breath, your heart thudding in your chest.

Better to regret doing too much than to regret doing nothing at all.

The words echo in your mind as you pull off your heels and set them aside. You remove the diamond tiara, placing it on the chair with care. Then, with your pulse racing, you open the door that leads to the garden where the celebration waits.

The moment your bare feet touch the grass, you run.

You run as fast as you can, ignoring the weight of the dress pulling you down, ignoring the stinging thoughts of what people will think, ignoring the consequences that tomorrow will bring. All that matters is getting out—escaping the cage before it locks you in forever.

When Joy returns to find the door ajar, the tiara and heels abandoned, the crystal glass slips from her fingers, shattering on the floor. Fear flashes across her face—fear of the uproar your family will unleash when they realize what’s happened. But she doesn’t chase after you. She lets you go.

"I hope you know what you’re doing..." Joy whispers to herself. She laughs in disbelief, shaking her head. She waits a moment, giving herself just enough time before putting on the perfect mask of panic for when the news breaks—the bride is gone.

It takes longer than you'd like to escape the mansion grounds, and even longer before anyone realizes the bride is missing. Minhyuk stands in stunned silence at first, refusing to believe it’s true. Then anger overtakes him, his fury mirrored by your father, whose mind is already racing with ways to punish you for disgracing the family.

When you finally reach the street, your legs burn and your lungs ache. You stop to catch your breath, heart pounding in your chest, knowing that by now, everyone is searching for you. The security team must already be mobilized. Finding you will be easy—too easy. After all, a bride running through the streets of Los Angeles isn’t exactly inconspicuous.

You take off again, pushing your legs to move faster, weaving through traffic, not waiting for the light to turn. The inevitable happens—a car screeches to a halt, clipping your side just enough to send you stumbling. The driver’s face is as terrified as yours.

“Help me,” you murmur, voice trembling as your eyes lock with his.

For a moment, he hesitates, his eyes darting between you and the road as horns blare and angry drivers shout behind him. His decision comes fast.

"Get in!" he shouts, leaning out of the window.

Without thinking, you yank open the door of the white car and slide into the back seat. The man wastes no time—the car surges forward as he presses the gas.

You finally exhale, eyes closing as a rush of emotions floods you. Tears begin to fall, quiet and unstoppable. The adrenaline still courses through your veins, but your mind clears just enough to fill with the images you’ve been running from—the glares of your parents, the disappointment of your former in-laws, the fury in Minhyuk’s eyes, and even the hurt expression of your brother.

You might be disowned. You might be cast out and cut off from your family forever.

But you refused to surrender your life to anyone else’s plans.

“Miss?” you hear the man call softly. Your eyes flutter open, and for a brief second, you meet his gaze in the rearview mirror. Then, you catch sight of your own reflection—your makeup mostly intact, though streaked with tears. You wipe them away with trembling hands, but they keep falling.

“Yes?” you respond, voice barely above a whisper. His eyes linger on you, filled with concern.

“Do you have somewhere I can take you?”

You pause, thinking. A hotel is out of the question—you have no money on you. Going back home is impossible—it’s ground zero for everyone you’re running from. And all of your friends? They’re at the wedding.

“No…” you mumble, shame creeping into your voice. Your eyes drop to your lap, fingers fidgeting nervously. “Just… please, get me far away from here. Anywhere. I’ll figure it out.”

You can feel his pity, an emotion so palpable it wraps around you like a heavy blanket. You don’t want to meet his gaze again—you already know what’s written in it. But how could you blame him? How could anyone leave a distraught woman in a wedding dress stranded in the middle of nowhere?

He sighs quietly, his voice careful but resolute. “Alright. How about this—I’ll take you to my place. You can shower, calm down, and maybe… call someone. Does that sound okay?”

Relief washes over you, and with no better options in mind, you nod. “Okay.”

He glances at you in the mirror again, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. “I’m Renjun, by the way.”

Despite everything, you manage a weak smile in return. “I’m…” You introduce yourself, your name feeling strange on your tongue, like a part of a life you just left behind.

The thought of making that call, of confronting the fallout from your grand escape, churns your stomach. But you push it aside. You can’t afford to think about it now. Instead, you stay quiet, unsure if Renjun wants to talk. You clutch your hands tightly together, focusing on the blur of the city outside, each passing streetlight pulling you further from a life you no longer wanted.

The drive felt agonizingly slow, each second stretching like an eternity. The upbeat song playing on the radio only made the suffocating tension worse. Renjun tried changing the station a few times, but nothing seemed to fit the mood, so he turned it off altogether—which only made the silence heavier. He wrestled with indecision, unsure whether to break the quiet and attempt a conversation to ease your discomfort or leave you alone with your tears. Never in his life did he imagine finding himself in this situation: a bride in distress, heartbroken and crying, in the backseat of his car.

As his car turned into a quiet suburban street, your teary gaze lifted. You took in the picturesque neighborhood with wide eyes. The houses stood in perfect uniformity, a row of identical designs—slate-gray siding, black-shingled roofs, and bright white doors and windows. It was nothing like what you were used to. The garage door opened with a soft hum, and Renjun pulled into the driveway, parking with precision.

“We’re here,” he said gently, turning the key to cut the engine. His eyes flicked back to you. “Shall we?”

You nodded, wordlessly stepping out of the car, feeling the cool pavement under your bare feet as you followed him inside.

With every step into his house, a sharp pain flared in your left foot. You ignored it. After all, you had just sprinted a marathon barefoot to escape a nightmare.

The scent of clean linen and fresh pine filled the air, wrapping you in an unexpected calm. The place was spotless, impeccably organized—a serene contrast to the storm inside you.

“I’ll grab something for you to wear,” Renjun offered kindly. “Make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you,” you whispered. You sat on the pale, plush sofa, your feet dangling as you swayed them back and forth. But as the stillness settled over you once more, the weight of everything returned. The tears you had momentarily paused came rushing back, and the sorrow sat heavy in your chest, pressing down like an unforgiving hand.

Back at the mansion where the wedding was supposed to take place, chaos reigned. Tension hung thick in the air as your father stormed through the grand hall, his fury palpable. The rest of your family shared in his anger, but your brother remained the calmest, quietly observing the fallout. Your friends stood uncertain, hopeful that there might be a rational explanation for your sudden disappearance.

The guests had long departed, murmuring whispers of scandal and speculation as they left. Even Minhyuk and his family were gone, their pride wounded. Your phone had rung incessantly until one of your bridesmaids, Arin, noticed it—along with all your personal belongings—left behind in the bridal suite. The search for you began in earnest: through the garden, under the canopy of the gazebo, even into the winding hedges of the labyrinth. But there was no trace of you. Frustrated, your father ordered the security team to comb the streets.

“I will not rest until that ungrateful girl is back in this house!” he roared, his face red with rage as he shoved aside anyone offering comfort.

“Dad, blowing up like this isn’t going to help anything,” your brother Jungwoo said, folding his arms with a resigned sigh. He had seen this spectacle before and was already half out the door.

“If you’re not going to help, Jungwoo, then leave,” their father snapped, gesturing dismissively.

“As if I haven’t thought of that already,” Jungwoo muttered under his breath. Turning to face him fully, he added, “And don’t bother calling the police. She wasn’t kidnapped. She’s a grown woman making her own choices. The police won’t do anything about it.” He walked out, his steps steady, leaving behind a trail of truth no one wanted to hear.

“Uncle Kim, maybe you should sit down, take a breath, and think things through before making any rash decisions,” Joy ventured gently, her hands raised in a placating gesture.

Her words were met with a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “And you, Sooyoung,” he spat, pointing an accusatory finger at her, “aren’t you supposed to be her best friend? Why don’t you know where she is? Or are you hiding her from us?”

“Of course not!” Joy retorted, her eyes flashing with defiance. “And you know what? Even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you!” She grabbed her purse, slinging it over her shoulder. Her voice grew stronger, her conviction unshakable. “If she ran, it’s because she was unhappy with this whole charade of a wedding. I stand with her.” Without waiting for a response, she stormed out.

The silence left in her wake simmered with rage. In one swift, furious motion, Kim Hajoon seized a large vase of flowers and hurled it to the floor, the porcelain shattering into jagged fragments. “When I find that girl…” His voice dropped to a venomous whisper, his jaw clenched so tight it trembled. “She will be punished for disgracing this family.”

You had already taken a bath. The clothes Renjun lent you fit perfectly—a pair of black sweatpants that hugged you comfortably and a loose yellow T-shirt sporting the logo of a band you didn’t recognize. He had even provided a pair of slippers, slightly oversized but perfectly serviceable. During your shower, you discovered a shallow cut on your left foot from a shard of glass. Fortunately, a quick rummage through the bathroom drawers revealed tweezers, allowing you to carefully remove the fragments. The injury made walking painful, causing you to limp as you descended the stairs, using the walls and furniture for support.

In the living room, Renjun sat on the sofa, eyes focused on a movie playing on the TV. He seemed to be waiting for you. Two glass mugs rested on the coffee table, the rising steam hinting at freshly brewed tea. When he noticed your presence, his face lit up with a warm smile.

“I see the clothes fit.” His brows furrowed as he took in your posture, leaning heavily against the wall. “Did something happen?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “I mean… aside from… well, you know…”

“Do you have a first-aid kit?” You interrupted his fumbling words before he could tie himself into further knots.

“Uh… wait a second!” Renjun shot up and disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with a small white medical kit. He placed it on the coffee table, and when he saw you hobbling toward the couch, he quickly came to your side.

He wrapped one arm around you, his other hand lightly supporting the small of your back as he guided you to sit down effortlessly.

“What happened?” he asked as he settled beside you.

You lifted your leg, resting your ankle on your other knee. Gently peeling away a makeshift paper bandage, you revealed the small wound. “Glass cut. Guess running around barefoot isn’t the best idea…” you remarked with a soft laugh, prompting a smile from him.

“Were there shards?” Renjun opened the kit, pulling out gauze, antiseptic, and iodine. He was already puzzling over why you hadn’t mentioned the injury sooner—perhaps you hadn’t realized at first.

“There were, but I got them out. I cleaned your tweezers properly, I promise! They’re back where I found them.”

He chuckled, brushing the concern aside.

“All right. May I?” He gestured toward your foot, waiting for permission.

You nodded shyly and adjusted your posture, resting your foot across his legs.

Renjun dampened a piece of gauze with antiseptic, handling your foot with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. The sting of the solution made you hiss softly, drawing air between your teeth. He glanced at your expression, careful to remain as gentle as possible. After thoroughly cleaning the cut, he applied the iodine and secured a fresh gauze with adhesive tape.

“There we go,” he said, his tone light and reassuring. “Take it easy, okay? No more wandering the streets barefoot.” He closed the kit and set it aside. “I made tea for us. Hope… it’s to your taste…” His voice softened as he handed you a warm mug.

You accepted it with a grateful smile. “I’m sure it’ll be perfect. Thank you, Renjun.” You took a tentative sip, inhaling the aromatic steam. It wasn’t exactly your favorite flavor, but knowing the care behind it made it sweeter.

Your gaze began to drift across the room. Every detail—from the cozy furniture to the tasteful decor, the paintings, and even the muted tones of the walls—spoke of simplicity and warmth. It was all so different from the lavish grandeur you had grown up with. Renjun caught your curious exploration.

“Like the decor?” he asked, a playful lilt in his voice.

Your eyes widened, startled, as if you’d been caught peeking into a forbidden room.

“Uh, yes,” you murmured, taking another sip of tea to hide your embarrassment. “It’s beautiful. Different from what I’m used to…”

He raised an eyebrow, amused. You immediately regretted your words, worried they had sounded snobbish. You rushed to clarify, stumbling over your explanation.

“A good kind of different! It’s… lovely, really!”

Renjun burst into laughter, his eyes crinkling with delight as his head tipped back. His laughter filled the room, infectious and genuine. He nearly dropped his mug but recovered just in time. The sound of it, so full of life, made your heart flutter.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he said, wiping away the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “But now you’ve got me curious. What’s so different? Do you live in a castle or something?”

His teasing tone made you smile, the tension melting away like morning fog.

“Almost… it was a mansion.” You used the past tense without thinking. You weren’t sure if you’d still be living there, but honestly, it wasn’t as though you wanted to. “It had two floors and covered… about six of your houses in size…” You let the memory linger for a moment. “The décor was extravagant. My mother always loved flaunting the family’s wealth. She made a smart choice marrying my father.”

Renjun took a small sip of tea, his fingers lightly brushing the warm glass. “Well, my humble little house definitely doesn’t compete with… that.” His voice carried a faint laugh, but his eyes flicked downward. Embarrassment? Insecurity? Even he didn’t quite know.

“Please, don’t think I’m bragging or rubbing it in,” you said quickly, your words tripping over themselves. “It’s just… I don’t even like it. All that luxury… it’s too much to look at, too much to keep up with, and in the end, none of it really matters. It’s all just… stuff.”

He murmured agreement, nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, you have a point.”

With the conversation trailing off, your attention returned to the TV. You weren’t sure what movie was playing, couldn’t tell who the characters were or what the plot was about. But you kept your eyes fixed on the screen, pretending you were following along. Renjun finished his tea first, setting his mug on the table. You did the same soon after, inhaling deeply as you placed it down.

“Feeling better?” he asked, stretching out to grab his phone from the side table.

You rubbed your palms nervously over your thighs, nodding.

“Do you want to call a friend? Or family?”

Your heart skipped. A rush of panic swelled in your chest, making your breath come shallow and quick. You didn’t want to leave. Not yet. Here, in this small, cozy space, you felt safe—a world away from the consequences waiting for you outside. The mere thought of facing your parents made your skin crawl, the weight of their judgment already pressing on your shoulders.

He noticed your change in demeanor immediately. His eyes darkened with concern as he set his phone down. Leaning toward you, his hand found the small of your back while the other wrapped gently around your trembling fingers.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay,” he whispered soothingly. “You don’t have to do anything right now. You’re not being forced. I’m not going to pressure you. Not at all.”

You clenched your jaw, fighting the tears burning behind your eyes. You had to say it. You had to ask.

“I can’t go home, Renjun.”

He stiffened at the desperation in your voice, the way your words trembled on the edge of breaking.

“Why? What happened?” His eyes searched yours, wide and worried. “Do you need the police? Is that why you ran from your wedding?”

The shock on your face was answer enough. You shook your head fervently, gripping his hand tighter.

“No, no, no police, please,” you whispered. “I’ve already made enough trouble. I don’t want more.” You lowered your head, your voice growing small, fragile. “I’m… sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

He watched you in silence, trying to piece together your story, to understand the fear etched into every word.

“Then…” He paused, hesitant but sincere. “Stay the night. You’re welcome here. But you need to tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if I don’t know.”

His eyes held nothing but kindness, a warmth that radiated safety and trust. How could you not believe in someone who carried protection in every glance, in every gentle movement?

You hesitated, the words locked behind a wall of doubt. Could you really open up? Could you share what had brought you to this moment? You knew once you began, you wouldn’t be able to stop. But wasn’t that the least you owed him?

Sitting in his home, seeking refuge under his roof, didn’t he deserve to know?

You took a deep breath, still hoping—just maybe—that trusting a stranger could be the right thing after all.

There, you told him everything. From the very beginning of your relationship with Minhyuk to the complicated dynamics with your parents. You explained how, ever since your father learned that your ex-fiancé's family wanted to partner with his company, the engagement—and eventual wedding—felt more like a business deal than a union of love. The pressure to marry had crushed the affection you once felt. You also shared how, despite your parents being loving, they valued the family’s public image above all else. To outsiders, you were the picture-perfect family, even if you and your brother Jungwoo avoided media attention. You feared what facing them now would mean. After all, you had dishonored them, and the news had likely already hit the headlines.

After all, it wasn’t just any wedding that collapsed. It was a high-profile merger between two of the most powerful families across Asia and North America. Walking away from Minhyuk at the altar would surely be seen as more than a scandal—it would be a public humiliation and the collapse of a strategic alliance.

Renjun listened intently, his expression never wavering from one of understanding. He offered his home for as long as you needed, reassuring you that there was no rush to face your parents until you were ready. To break the tension that had thickened the air, he proposed a change of subject—something lighter.

“How about we get to know each other a little more?” he suggested with a smile. “Since we’ll be under the same roof for who knows how long.”

The hours melted away as you both shared pieces of your lives.

You learned he worked as a bridal gown designer for a renowned fashion house, dressing celebrities and socialites. His eyes sparkled with pride as he scrolled through pictures of his creations on his phone, and you fell in love with each one.

“When I get married… for real this time…” You laughed, your cheeks warming with a mix of nerves and humor. “Can I wear one of your dresses?”

“It would be an honor to dress you, Miss Kim,” he teased, bowing like a courtly gentleman presenting himself to royalty.

You also learned he was eager to adopt a dog, ever since falling in love with Daegal, a friend’s fluffy white puppy. Speaking of friends, he warned you that they would be visiting tomorrow.

The conversation meandered into trivial, delightful corners—how you both liked your eggs in the morning, and which way the toilet paper should hang (an intense debate you both thoroughly enjoyed). By the time the night stretched into the early morning, you found a friend in Renjun.

Somewhere between the stories and the laughter, sleep claimed you both. You woke hours later, still on opposite sides of the couch.

A delicious aroma drifted into the room, stirring you. Blinking, you took in the faint morning light seeping through curtains drawn closed for your comfort. Stretching, you inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of breakfast. You rubbed your eyes and rose to your feet, following the inviting smell into the kitchen.

Stopping in the doorway, you watched your new friend setting the table, carefully arranging two plates and pouring juice into glasses.

He noticed you immediately and broke into a grin. “Good morning!” he greeted cheerfully. “I set up the guest room for you. Fresh sheets, stocked the bathroom, even put a new toothbrush there.” He gestured at the plates. “Now, go wash your face, or I’m eating without you!”

A laugh bubbled up before you could stop it.

“Good morning, Renjun,” you said with warmth before turning away, a rare calm settling over you.

And for the first time in a long while, you felt like you were exactly where you needed to be.

At their parents' home, Jungwoo had come to check in on them. His father, as expected, was as implacable as ever. He hadn't even offered a polite good morning—just the same grim scowl that seemed carved into his face. His mother, on the other hand, at least acknowledged him with a nod. Though her fury matched her husband’s, she knew there was no point in unleashing it on her son.

“Have you heard from her, my son?” Katherine asked, dabbing at her mouth with a linen napkin.

“No, Mother. I came to see how you’re holding up. I don’t have any news.” He reached across the table, his hand covering hers as he traced small, soothing circles with his thumb. “But I would like to talk about what happened…” His words hung cautiously in the air. He knew this was treacherous ground—too soon, too raw. And if the news wasn’t already plastered across every major outlet, it was only a matter of time before it flooded every screen and headline.

“What’s there to talk about, Jungwoo?” His father’s voice sliced through the room, hard and cold. “You’ve made your choice. You sided with your sister—the irresponsible, selfish girl that she is.”

“What side, dad?” Jungwoo shot back, meeting his father’s tone head-on. “There are no sides. We’re a family!”

“A family?” Hajoon stood abruptly, his chair scraping harshly against the floor as he towered over his son. His eyes burned with rage. “She is not my family. That girl had everything. I gave her everything, and how does she repay me? She destroyed it all, Jungwoo! She is the shame of this family!”

Jungwoo rose to meet his father’s glare, his own anger boiling just beneath the surface. “And what will you do? Disown her? Cast her out because she didn’t follow your script?” His voice sharpened like steel. “Don’t forget, everything you gave her was your choice. You had children because you wanted to. Don’t act as if she owes you her life for that, Kim Hajoon.”

Between them stood Katherine. She remained seated, her eyes shifting between husband and son. Despite her own anger, the woman could not ignore the fierce pull of her maternal heart. Her daughter was still her child, a piece of her soul—a part of her that she could never abandon.

“Watch your tone, boy,” Hajoon growled, his voice rising to a full roar. “I am your father! And yes, that’s exactly what I’ll do. When you find your sister, you tell her she’s no longer part of this family.”

Jungwoo’s lips curled into a bitter smile. His next words came slowly, each syllable dripping with disdain. “Then be my guest. You don’t have children anymore.” He took a step back, chest heaving. “Find yourself another heir to fill your shoes when you’re gone. Maybe Minhyuk—your perfect son-in-law—can step in.”

He turned away, his steps heavy with hurt and defiance. He felt his father’s furious gaze searing into his back, but he didn’t look back.

“Get out of my house!” Hajoon bellowed after him, his voice thundering like a storm.

Jungwoo kept walking. The words, no matter how harsh or cutting, could not pierce the armor of truth he carried within him. Yet, deep down, each cruel utterance still weighed on his heart.

Because no matter how righteous the fight, no matter how strong his resolve, nothing cut quite as deeply as hearing those words from his own father.

“I’m here to collect my sister’s belongings,” Jungwoo said, his voice cold and clipped. “Don’t worry, Hajoon. Just documents—what she’s entitled to. Rest assured, when she comes back, I won’t let you lay so much as a finger on her.”

With that, he turned and strode toward the staircase, urgency propelling him forward. He didn’t need much—only her phone and papers—but the weight of his father’s presence made each step feel heavier.

Behind him, Katherine watched her son disappear up the stairs before fixing her gaze on her husband.

“You didn’t mean a word of that,” she said, her voice a knife hidden in silk.

“I did,” Hajoon snapped, though the crack in his voice betrayed him.

“No, you didn’t.” Her eyes darkened with resolve. “Hajoon, let me make one thing crystal clear—if any harm comes to our children because of one of your outbursts, I swear I’ll destroy you.”

The silence that followed was as sharp as broken glass. She wasn’t bluffing. He knew Katherine’s word was as unyielding as steel.

Moments later, Jungwoo descended the stairs, a small bag in hand. His jaw was set, his eyes stormy as he marched past his parents.

“Jungwoo—”

Her hand reached for his arm, a desperate attempt to keep him from leaving.

“Let me go, mom.”

“Please, my son—”

“Let me go,” he repeated, firmer this time, his patience fraying at the edges.

Reluctantly, her fingers loosened. She stood in silence as he walked out the front door without a backward glance. No goodbye. No hesitation.

Outside, the cool air bit at his skin. Jungwoo crossed the street to where his car waited, pulling out his phone and scrolling for a familiar number.

When Joy answered, he didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Any news?”

“None,” she sighed.

“When she reaches out,” he said, his tone sharp with urgency, “don’t let her go home. Don’t let her call them—don’t even think about letting her contact our parents. I don’t care if she avoids me too, just let me know she’s safe. I’m bringing her things over. You’ll probably be the first person she tries to find.”

Before she could respond, he ended the call, gripping the phone tightly in his hand.

He slumped against the steering wheel, his breath heavy with frustration.

I hope you know what you’re doing, little sister…

After breakfast, Renjun stretched his arms, gathering the dishes to take them to the sink.

“I’m heading to the market,” he announced, turning on the faucet as water began to flow over the plates. “I need to grab a few things and get ready for my friends coming over later.”

You sat silently for a moment, your fingers absentmindedly rubbing your palms together.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” He glanced over his shoulder, water running between his fingers as he scrubbed a dish.

“I’m sure.” Rising to your feet, you picked up a dish towel and began drying the plates as he handed them over. “I don’t want to risk being seen.”

Renjun shrugged, exhaling softly in understanding. The silence that followed was calm, broken only by the steady sound of water and the gentle swipes of fabric against ceramic.

“I…” Your voice faltered, hesitant. “I think I want to call Joy.”

He raised an eyebrow, curious but patient.

“Or maybe not,” you added quickly, averting your gaze. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter.”

He turned off the faucet and leaned back against the sink, watching you. “Your best friend?” When you nodded, his lips curved into a small smile. “Of course it matters. You should call her. Even if it’s just to let her know you’re safe… and maybe to find out what’s going on with your family. It might help.”

Your teeth worried your lower lip as you hesitated.

“You don’t have to tell her everything,” he continued. “Just enough.”

Your heartbeat quickened. It’s only Joy, you told yourself. She’s your best friend.

You inhaled deeply, steadying yourself. “Alright…”

“Great.” He handed you his phone with an easy grin. “Use mine. The passcode is 2303.”

He started to leave but paused at the doorway, glancing back with a playful wink. “I’m just going to change clothes. Holler if you need anything.”

Alone with the phone in your hand, you stared at it as if it carried a weight far beyond its physical form. Why? Why this hesitation to reach out to the one person who always had your back?

Just breathe.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you keyed in the passcode.

Moments later, the dial tone buzzed in your ear. You held your breath, the world shrinking to this single connection, until…

“Hello?”

The tension in your chest melted at the familiar voice, and a smile crept onto your face before you realized it.

“Joy.”

Relief poured into your words.

“Oh my God, it’s you!” Her voice burst with a mix of panic and joy. “Where have you been? Are you okay? Are you safe? Are you staying with someone? In a hotel? Do you even know what’s happening out here?”

Her rapid-fire questions shot out like arrows, sharp with urgency, but each one wrapped around you like a warm embrace—reassuring, grounding, reminding you that you had a refuge in her.

And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you no longer felt alone.

“Joy, I’m fine. I’m safe, staying at a… friend’s place. He’s taking good care of me, so don’t worry.” You hear her let out a heavy sigh of relief before you continue. “I called just to let you know I’m okay and, well… to find out how things are going over there.”

There’s a pause on her end, a hesitation that tells you everything you need to know: things aren’t going well. Which, honestly, was to be expected after yesterday’s spectacle.

“Your dad’s absolutely furious, but I’m sure you figured that out already,” Joy says, her voice lowering into a somber murmur. You hum in acknowledgment, anxiety building in your chest. “Jungwoo had it out with him. Told him they weren’t even part of the same family anymore.”

Your eyes widen. What? Jungwoo fought with dad? What does your brother have to do with this?

“I didn’t get all the details since he didn’t explain much, but…”

You barely catch her words as you notice Renjun descending the stairs. You murmur, “Hold on a sec, Joy,” then turn your attention to him.

“You’re talking to your friend?” he asks with a smile, and you nod, unable to stop a small grin from forming despite the tense conversation.

“Yeah.”

“Well… I won’t be too long. I should be back in about 40 minutes, give or take, depending on lines and traffic. Do you want anything from the market? Ask for anything you like!” His warm smile makes you feel at ease.

“Could you get some granola bars? I love snacking on those…” You ask timidly, feeling a bit shy about requesting something. But honestly, with everything going on, they’ve become your comfort food.

“Of course, silly.” You smile, telling him your favorite flavors and thanking him before he heads out.

When you return to the phone, Joy’s teasing voice immediately greets you.

“So… is he cute? That voice of his sounded dreamy.”

You nearly choke. Coughing a few times, you hear her giggle on the other end.

“Joy! That’s not something you ask!”

“Oh, come on! Just because you ran from a wedding doesn’t mean you can’t notice a handsome guy. So? Spill. Is he hot?”

You can’t help but laugh.

“Um… yeah, he’s pretty hot. And sweet! He’s honestly amazing, Joy,” you say, feeling warm as memories of the night before and this morning flood your mind. Renjun really was a gem. “But enough about him for now. Tell me what happened next!”

“Right, sorry!” Her tone shifts again. “Jungwoo came by earlier. He dropped off your documents, your phone, and a few clothes you left at his place. He knew you’d reach out to me first.”

You bite your lip, grateful for your brother’s intuition.

“But…” Her voice lowers, turning serious. “He said not to let you talk to your parents under any circumstances. Whatever’s going on, it’s bad. So please, don’t reach out to them until I figure out what’s really happening.”

Your stomach twists at her warning.

“Okay… If you find out more, tell me.” A thought occurs, and you add quickly, “Oh, and save this number! It’s Renjun’s phone—this is how we’ll keep in touch.”

“Got it,” she replies.

“And Minhyuk and his family… well, I haven’t heard much about them, but it’s safe to assume they’re just as furious as your father. Jooheon said Minhyuk didn’t say much after the wedding. He just left and hasn’t really kept in touch. He thinks Minhyuk is still processing everything, probably feeling disappointed. I just hope he doesn’t do anything stupid… You know how he can be—bitter and vengeful,” Joy says, her voice full of concern.

“Yeah… What I did to him was so unfair. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he retaliated. I even thought about talking to him, explaining what made me do it, but… I don’t have the courage.” You exhale a soft, humorless laugh.

“And that’s totally understandable. I’ll reach out to the guys, see if anyone knows how he’s doing, and I’ll keep you updated on whatever I find out, okay?” Sooyoung’s tone turns lighter. “But now, tell me more about this Renjun guy I’ve never heard of! Come on, spill!”

“Well, actually, I just met him yesterday while… running away. I almost got hit by his car.” You chuckle at the memory, even though it was a close call.

“You’re staying at a guy’s house you met yesterday? And he almost ran you over? Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Her tone shifts from curious to stern. And she has every right to be concerned — what are you thinking, spending the night with a total stranger?

“Joy, I told you, it’s fine. He’s been nothing but kind to me. He didn’t push boundaries or make me feel uncomfortable. If he had, I wouldn’t still be here.” You try to justify your actions, but she scoffs in response.

“I still don’t like the sound of this,” she mutters.

The conversation flows from there, stretching into a good few minutes. You talk about everything — from the chaos of the wedding to what happened after your escape and your scattered thoughts about what comes next.

After more than half an hour on the call, you and Joy say your goodbyes. With nothing else to do, you decide to explore the house. Hopefully, there might be a task to keep you occupied until the Chinese boy returns. You get up, leaving your phone on the coffee table, and start with the living room console. There are a few picture frames there, each holding a photo.

You pick up the first one, which shows Renjun and a friend, seemingly on a climbing trip. The two are posing playfully on a massive rock, making you smile. You vividly recall what he told you about that day and how he recommended trying it—well, at least with someone experienced. The second frame holds a picture of him with three kittens, probably belonging to his friend. Two of the three fluffy white furballs are gazing at him adorably, as if mesmerized by the young man. The third frame contains a photo of him alone, with a brightly lit city at night as the backdrop. He’s leaning over what seems to be a bridge railing, wearing a brown trench coat and glasses, accompanied by that beautiful smile of his—the one that suits him so perfectly. You could swear that the first time you saw him smile, especially when he laughed, your world became a little more colorful.

You hear the sound of keys, and moments later, the door opens. Renjun steps in, carrying a few shopping bags. Instinctively, you go to meet him and help.

“Thanks. Wow, I think I took longer than I planned—jeez!” he complains, closing the door as the two of you head to the kitchen.

“Just a little…” you tease, glancing at the clock. The time he estimated had been exceeded by… about an hour and nine minutes.

“A guy’s car broke down in the middle of the avenue. A few of us had to help push it to the shoulder. That little adventure took about twenty minutes,” he explains, washing his hands at the sink. “Oh, and there were some new, unusual flavors of snack bars, so I got a few for you too. Hope you like them,” he adds shyly, glancing at the bags.

You offer him a sweet smile and a shy "thank you." He pulls the little boxes out of the bag, showing them to you. You examine each one with enthusiasm. Truly, you'd never seen them before—not even in advertisements. You felt happy that Renjun had thought about you and even happier knowing you’d get to try all those treats.

“I didn’t ask earlier—how’s your foot?” he asks, unloading the groceries and placing them on the counter.

“Oh, it’s fine. It still hurts a bit, and I definitely can’t put too much weight on it, but I think I’ll survive,” you joke with a smile.

“If you need me to clean it again, just let me know. The last thing I want is to have to take you to the hospital because your wound got infected, Miss Kim.” His shoulders drop slightly as he speaks. How is it that even his scolding sounds so gentle?

“Yes, Sir Huang!” you reply with a mock salute, making him laugh.

“How was your conversation with your friend?” he asks as you sit down on the stool with a sigh.

“The conversation was good, but the situation could be better…” He watches you with a worried expression, walking over and gently holding one of your hands. Your gaze drops to where your hands touch, and you can’t help but feel a warm, comforting sensation.

“What happened?” Renjun’s thumb strokes the back of your hand, his eyes locked on your face. You don’t think he’s doing it on purpose—making you feel this way. This sense of safety, of being cared for. He’s just so naturally good at it.

“Uh… Well… Joy said Jungwoo had a fight with our father, and apparently, they’re no longer on speaking terms… And about Minhyuk, she hasn’t heard from him. I think he’s still shaken, you know? Being left at the altar… I feel a little guilty about it. I mean, he was so good to me…” You sigh, memories of happy times with your ex-fiancé flooding your mind.

“But you didn’t feel the same anymore. And that’s okay. You shouldn’t blame yourself for that. He might be hurt, maybe even angry, but if he truly loves you, I’m sure he’ll give you the chance to explain why you did what you did,” Renjun says, his voice calm and reassuring. You give him a faint smile in response.

“Thank you, Renjun. I think I’ll go back tomorrow. I’ll talk to Joy, Jungwoo, and, of course, try to speak with Minhyuk,” you say. Renjun’s soft smile makes your heart race. Silly heart, why are you doing this? Calm down!

“That’s a good idea. Joy might have already told them you’re okay, but there’s nothing like hearing it directly from you, right?” he says with a playful tone. “If you don’t want to do it alone, I can go with you,” he offers.

You’re tempted to accept—partly out of fear, especially of facing your parents and the Lee family, but also because you’ve come to love Huang’s company. Still, none of this has anything to do with him. The messy family drama, the unresolved emotions, the impulsive decisions—none of it should affect Renjun, even though being with him is already a conflict in itself.

“No need, Renjun. I think it’ll be better if I handle this on my own…” you say. He nods, still gazing intently at you. You smile awkwardly, noticing he hasn’t realized he’s still caressing your hand. “So… what’s for lunch? Can I help you?” you ask, pulling your hand away quickly to change the subject.

Renjun seems to snap back to reality, blinking a few times and clearing his throat before returning to what he was doing. “Ah, yeah… I was thinking of making jjamppong. And, of course, you can help! Just don’t stand up—stay seated right there, exactly as you are,” he responds, a bit shy.

You comply, staying seated as you watch him. Renjun washes the vegetables and hands them to you to chop. As you prepare the meal together, you chat about various things, mostly his friends, who are coming to visit in a few hours. He shares bits about them, wanting you to feel comfortable around them.

“Renjun, how am I supposed to meet your friends looking like this?” you exclaim, gesturing at yourself as you turn to him. He chuckles at your reaction.

“What’s wrong? My clothes fit you perfectly. It’s like a feminine, much prettier version of me,” he jokes, letting the compliment slip naturally, leaving you flustered and shy.

“W-what’s wrong is, have you seen how I usually dress casually?” you ask, exasperated.

“Of course not. I just met you yesterday, and I’m pretty sure your casual wardrobe doesn’t include a wedding dress,” he teases, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you fuss.

“Nothing like an oversized men’s shirt or jersey shorts, seriously, Renjun?” you protest, trying to fix your hair at the very least.

He watches you, utterly captivated, a small smile lingering on his face. You had just come out of the shower, wearing his fresh clothes—a plain white shirt and gray jersey shorts. Renjun didn’t have anything remotely feminine in his wardrobe, which made sense since it wasn’t his style, nor did he have a sister to help out. This was the best he could manage. You tried folding the shirt and tying it to look more “presentable,” as you put it. He listened as you muttered complaints like, “I’d never go out in public like this” or “A slightly tighter, shorter shirt would make a huge difference.” But he couldn’t care less. You looked so effortlessly beautiful in his clothes.

“Well, I guess this will do,” you finally declare, snapping him out of his little reverie. You had done a simple half-up hairstyle and managed to adjust the shirt to your liking, tying it into a makeshift crop top. “Do you have any makeup around here?” you ask with a playful flutter of your eyelashes, and he obliges.

Renjun retrieves the kit he uses daily and hands it to you, resuming his quiet admiration.

“Some of it might not match your skin tone, so just stick with the eyeshadows, blush, and this brand-new lip balm,” he says, placing the products in front of you, along with a serum. “And can I ask why you’re going to all this trouble to get ready for my friends? You’d look fine to me, messy hair, no makeup, and wearing my clothes just the way they are.” Everything about his words radiates comfort and domesticity.

You can’t help but think of Minhyuk. He used to love you just as you were—completely disheveled, makeup-free, in wrinkled clothes, even with a bit of drool after a night’s sleep. A small, warm smile creeps onto your face at the comforting memory.

“Who said I’m getting ready for your friends?” you retort, raising an eyebrow mockingly. “For your information, I always have to look presentable, even when I’m sleeping. You never know when an emergency might happen in the middle of the night! What if I have to run out because the house catches fire? Or worse, what if I die in my sleep? My ghost is not going to wander around wearing a stained band T-shirt, ripped shorts, and ankle socks.” You explain this while applying the lip balm, your logic making Renjun burst out laughing. Once again, his laughter warms your heart, setting it beating in a way you’re all too familiar with.

The doorbell rings, and your eyes widen. Despite coming from a wealthy, famous, and highly sociable family, you’ve never been a social butterfly—that was always your brother’s role. You’ve preferred to stay in the background, keeping your social circle as small as possible. When necessary, you’d interact politely, of course—your upbringing wouldn’t allow rudeness. But the thought of meeting six new people, all men no less, was nerve-wracking.

Renjun helps you down the stairs, as he’s been adamant about minimizing the strain on your injured foot. One hand supports yours, while the other rests on your waist—now slightly exposed thanks to your tied-up shirt. His firm grip steadies you, and it’s only sheer willpower that stops him from carrying you straight to the sofa. He couldn’t quite understand why he felt so protective of you, but he knew he’d do anything to prevent you from getting hurt again.

“Sit here,” he says, guiding you toward the sofa, but you shake your head in refusal. “Don’t be stubborn.”

“I’m not being stubborn, Huang. But you don’t greet people while sitting down. I’m fine standing for a few minutes,” you explain, resolute. He sighs in defeat, though a soft smile soon tugs at his lips as he lets you be.

The doorbell rings again, this time more impatiently. Renjun strides toward the door, muttering, “Learn to wait, Chenle!” as he unlocks it. Three men come into view, and the one who seems to be Chenle strides in first, grumbling.

“If you were just a bit more efficient... It’s just a door,” he says with a dramatic roll of his eyes. He looks like he has more to say, but his gaze lands on you, standing beside the sofa, and he stops mid-sentence. “Oh, hello, gorgeous,” he says with a grin, stepping closer and extending his hand. “I’m Chenle.”

Shy, you shake his hand and introduce yourself.

“Renjun! You didn’t mention your friend was this pretty,” says the freckled boy—Haechan, apparently. His words make you duck your head, shyness spreading over you as you glance down.

“Shut up, Haechan, and behave, or I’ll throw you out,” Renjun warns, glaring at him. Haechan raises his hands in mock surrender before stepping closer to you and repeating Chenle’s greeting.

“That antisocial guy over there is Jisung,” Renjun says, gesturing toward a tall boy dressed entirely in black. You offer him a polite wave, and Jisung returns a friendly smile.

“And the others?” Renjun asks, watching as Haechan sprawls out on the sofa.

“Mark went to pick up Jeno and Jaemin, but one of his cats wasn’t feeling well, so he’s checking on it. Worst case, he’s bringing the three little troublemakers with him,” Chenle explains, flipping through TV channels. You gasp audibly at the mention of three kittens, and suddenly all eyes are on you. You shrink back slightly.

“Sorry, I just really like cats,” you mumble, which only makes the group chuckle in amusement. Renjun steps closer to you, gently touching your arm.

“You can sit down now. They’re going to take a while, and I don’t want you straining your foot,” he says softly, his tone full of care. It’s obvious he’s trying to divert your attention from the slightly overwhelming presence of the three men, having noticed your discomfort.

Meanwhile, Chenle, Haechan, and Jisung exchange knowing looks, their expressions oozing mischief. Haechan is the first to grab his phone and start typing furiously in their group chat, announcing “renjunnie’s girlfriend :(”. Predictably, the three absent members of the group explode with curiosity and excitement in the chat.

It’s not like Renjun hadn’t already told them what had happened yesterday afternoon. The issue was that he conveniently left out a few crucial details: the girl he almost ran over was now staying at his place, wearing his clothes, and about to have lunch with his friends.

Was this normal behavior for someone who’d just met another person yesterday?

“So, what’s for lunch, huh?” Chenle asks with a cheerful grin.

“Jjamppong. And be nice—she helped me make it,” Renjun replies as he sits beside you, carefully placing a cushion under your leg to keep your foot elevated.

“What’s the story there?” Haechan asks, eyes glinting with curiosity. Renjun shoots him a less-than-friendly look.

“Well, I was…” You hesitate, unsure if Renjun had already filled them in about your situation. You also don’t feel like telling complete strangers that you ran away from your own wedding, so you opt to downplay the story. “...running barefoot on the street and ended up cutting my foot. Definitely not my smartest idea.” You laugh lightly, trying to ease the awkwardness, though the three men exchange puzzled glances.

Once again, the doorbell rings, and Renjun gets up to answer it. He wasn’t expecting Mark, Jeno, and Jaemin to show up so soon—especially since Jaemin is famously attached to his cats and tends to hover over them when they’re unwell. What he wasn’t expecting even more was the sight of each of them carrying one of the cats in their arms.

“Weren’t they supposed to be sick?” Renjun whispers to Jeno as they step inside, visibly confused.

"Yeah, but he just gave them their medication and brought them along. Out of all of us, he’s definitely the most excited to meet your girlfriend." After Jeno’s comment, Renjun could almost swear he saw a question mark floating above his own head, like in a cartoon. But soon enough, he let out a sigh, already knowing who had spread the rumor.

As he closed the door and turned around, he noticed Jaemin standing right next to you, holding Luna in his arms. You looked absolutely delighted. Your love for cats was unmistakable, evident in the way your eyes sparkled as you gazed at the three of them together.

"Our dad never let us have a pet," you shared as Jaemin moved closer, stroking Luna and Luke gently.

“‘Us’?” Mark asked, curious.

"My older brother. When we were kids, he once tried to steal the neighbor’s puppy, but as you can imagine, it didn’t end well. She called the police on him, accusing him of theft, and he denied it to the bitter end, crying his eyes out, begging the officer not to arrest him." You all burst into laughter at the story. The memory was vivid in your mind. You could still picture Jungwoo trembling with fear, even wetting his pants at the thought of being arrested at the tender age of eight—but that part of the story didn’t need to be shared.

"And… how did you two meet?" Jaemin asked, his curiosity piqued. Renjun had given a brief explanation earlier, but Jaemin wanted to hear it from you. He found it hard to believe his friend could start dating someone in just a day. That was more of a Haechan move. Still, who was he to judge love? If Renjun felt it was right, then it was.

You glanced at Renjun, hesitant about how much to share, but he gave you a reassuring nod and a thumbs-up, silently encouraging you to continue. "Well, I was running down the street… barefoot..." you said with a laugh, lifting your injured foot as evidence. "I was so desperate that I didn’t notice the light was green and ended up throwing myself in front of Renjun’s car." You turned to him with a smile, which he returned.

"Good thing I’m an excellent driver with great reflexes," he said smugly, flashing a proud grin—until he noticed your expression.

"But isn’t that just the bare minimum for a driver?" you replied, arching an eyebrow. The room filled with laughter, and all the teasing eyes turned to Renjun, who sighed in defeat. Apparently, you had already joined the club.

"Looks like she got you there," Jeno quipped, laughing as he stretched his legs out on the coffee table. A habit Renjun absolutely despised but had long given up trying to correct after countless ignored requests.

"I refuse to let you join the ‘Renjun Hate Club’ with these degenerates," Renjun muttered, heading toward the kitchen while the others chuckled behind him. "Jisung, come help me!" he called out to the youngest, who groaned as he reluctantly followed.

"I can help—" you started to offer, but Renjun shot you a look that made you pause and blink, lowering your head sheepishly. "Never mind, I guess I can’t…" you murmured, and he gave you a soft, affectionate smile before disappearing into the kitchen.

During lunch, everything went smoothly. The boys made an effort to make you feel more comfortable by bringing up lighthearted topics, giving you plenty of opportunities to join in on the conversations. Even Jisung opened up and shared a few words, and you realized he was simply shy—much like you. He felt more at ease in the presence of close friends.

You also learned that Jeno was once part of the same world of media and wealth but had given it all up to live in anonymity, free from his family’s expectations and pressure. And he was absolutely right to do so; you were sure you’d follow his example after the whole wedding fiasco.

Amid the laughter and chatter, lunch came to an end. The meal was excessively praised which made you feel bashful, though in a good way. After all, if Renjun had been solely responsible for the meal, he would’ve been endlessly teased.

Now, everyone was debating what to watch. Renjun and Mark were voting for comedy, while Jeno and Jisung leaned toward action. Haechan and Chenle argued for suspense, and you threw in a random vote for romantic comedy, aligning with Jaemin. Honestly, you didn’t think the choice of movie mattered much since, from what little you’d seen of Renjun’s friends, they seemed like the type to talk over the whole thing anyway.

“It’s a tie…” Jisung stated the obvious.

“Why doesn’t Renjun decide? It’s his house, isn’t it?” you suggested, and everyone turned to you, though only two of them looked pleased.

“No,” Haechan shot back, making you laugh. “Let’s settle this with a wheel spin.” He pulled out an app on his phone and entered the genres into a digital roulette. Clearly, these disagreements happened often.

The TV was still tuned to a random news channel. Jeno had turned it on, thinking the guys might behave a bit better with you around. He was wrong.

You were completely distracted, stroking Luke, who was napping peacefully in your lap. You almost didn’t notice Minhyuk’s face appear on the screen. But when your eyes caught the image on the TV, you froze.

“Jeno, turn it up, please,” you asked, your tone suddenly serious, your gaze glued to the screen.

“Come on, are you seriously gonna watch the news—” Jeno joked, not giving it much thought.

“Jeno. Turn the damn volume up.” This time, you looked at him directly, and he swore a chill ran down his spine. He had never encountered a woman so… commanding, except maybe his mother. There was something in your expression and tone that left no room for argument.

“[...] And as I stood at the altar, waiting for the woman I thought was the love of my life, she abandoned me.” Your eyes widened. Something deep inside you told you this press conference would spell disaster for your reputation. “She ran away from the wedding, leaving everyone waiting and worried, while she ran off with her lover. And she hasn’t even shown up to explain herself.” Minhyuk’s voice was dripping with hatred. You could almost see the venom in his words.

Your jaw dropped instantly, and the boys around you exchanged worried glances. No, he’s not doing this.

“Do you know him?” Renjun, sitting beside you, asked cautiously. But you didn’t answer. Your focus remained entirely on the screen.

“That’s why I’m saying this here and now, to finally end this charade. Y/N Kim is not who you think she is. She’s manipulative, deceitful, and cruel. She fooled me for years without a shred of remorse…” At that moment, you stopped listening.

You couldn’t believe the man you once loved was capable of doing this to you—spreading lies just to ruin your reputation. Sure, your heart still carried guilt for leaving him at the altar, but this? This was too much.

Yet, you could feel the guilt and regret fading, replaced by anger and a thirst for vengeance. If he wanted an ex-fiancée who was manipulative and cruel, then that’s exactly what he would get.

“Renjun, give me your phone, please,” you said, extending your hand toward him, your voice calm but firm. Your gaze quickly flickered to the others in the room, taking note of the shock on each of their faces. But you weren’t intimidated. Taking the already-unlocked phone, you searched through the call history and dialed Joy.

The phone rang three times before Sooyoung’s voice came through. You didn’t even need to say anything before she spoke. “I’m watching the show too. Jooheon just told me about it—apparently, Minhyuk gathered everyone at the last minute, and even he didn’t know.”

You let out a dry laugh, your tongue pressing against the inside of your cheek as you kept your eyes fixed on the nonsense your ex-fiancé was spewing on TV. “I need you to come pick me up. Now,” you said curtly before hanging up.

You asked Renjun for the address, which he immediately provided. Typing it into a text, you sent it to your best friend.

Without missing a beat, Jeno turned off the TV, sparing you from any further torment. The room fell into an awkward silence. While Renjun watched you with concern, the other boys seemed more curious than anything else.

“Is it okay to ask?” Chenle finally muttered, only to receive a light smack from Mark, who promptly silenced him.

“You all asked how I hurt my foot…” you began, your voice carrying the weight of suppressed emotion. “I was running away from my wedding to that…” you paused, closing your eyes as anger surged through you. Words failed to capture just how furious you felt toward Lee Minhyuk. “Idiot. And no, I didn’t cheat on him—least of all with Renjun. I’ve only known him for a day,” you clarified quickly, eager to dispel any lingering doubts.

“I just… I wasn’t feeling right. It wasn’t what I wanted, and without thinking, I ran.” Your expression softened, tinged with melancholy. You felt truly disheartened, betrayed by someone you thought you knew so well. Years of what had seemed like a happy relationship had come crashing down, leaving behind a bitter taste you couldn’t ignore.

A familiar warmth enveloped you as Renjun pulled you into a hug. You looked up at him, offering a small, grateful smile, before leaning further into his embrace. He held you with care and kindness, making you feel secure in a way you hadn’t expected.

Tilting your head back to keep the tears at bay proved futile as emotion overwhelmed you. They spilled over, your fragile heart breaking under the weight of everything.

“And I don’t even want to think about how my dad’s feeling—if he’s watching this,” you choked out, your voice quivering with restrained sobs. A comforting hand rested on your shoulder, this time from Jaemin. “God, he’s going to kill me…” you murmured to yourself, curling further into Renjun’s chest for solace.

Part of you felt pathetic for crying in front of seven men you barely knew—especially over someone who hadn’t even given you the chance to explain your side before painting you as the villain. You knew your actions hadn’t been the most rational and that you should’ve at least talked to Minhyuk. But you’d been too desperate to think straight.

On the other hand, you couldn’t deny how comforted you felt in Renjun’s arms. You never thought you’d find solace in a stranger, but here you were. Feeling something so deep and reassuring, you dared to think that Minhyuk had never made you feel this way.

“I’m sorry, guys…” you mumbled, your voice muffled against Renjun’s chest but still loud enough for the others to hear.

"You don’t have to apologize. He was a complete jerk; it’s not your fault," Mark reassured you, sitting down on the floor beside you.

“It kind of is. I left him at the altar…” you lamented, sniffing as your eyes began to burn again, threatening another wave of relentless tears. Unable to hold it back, you buried your face in Renjun’s chest once more.

“Like you said yourself, you weren’t feeling good about it. You just did what you thought was best for you at the time. And you did the right thing. You don’t have to blame yourself for anything,” Jeno’s calm voice chimed in as he walked closer.

“Exactly. If he had any sense, he would’ve listened to you. Seriously, it’s been, what, a day? And he’s already pulling this ridiculous stunt?” Haechan added, placing a comforting hand on your back and rubbing it gently.

“Yeah… It’s almost like he’s trying to gain something out of all this…” Chenle speculated, suspicion evident in his tone.

Before you realized it, you were surrounded by all of them, each radiating care and concern.

“I’ve already told her she’s not to blame, but does she listen to me? Nope,” Renjun teased lightly, his fingers running through your hair. “Can we all agree now that he’s not worth it? Look at you—here you are, crying your heart out over a guy who doesn’t even deserve it.” His hand slipped down to cup your cheek, gently tilting your face up so he could meet your eyes. His gaze held you captive, and gradually, your tears began to subside.

“Yep. Men are trash,” Jisung quipped with a disdainful shrug.

“Hey, let’s not get carried away,” Jeno protested, feigning offense.

“What? I’m a man who doesn’t like men. And I’ll say this—I always support women in their rights and wrongs!” Jisung’s dramatic declaration earned a genuine laugh from you, breaking the trance Renjun’s gaze had put you in. Smiling, you buried your face back into his chest, feeling a little lighter.

“Are you rooting against your own team, you idiot?” Mark tossed a pillow at Jisung, who dodged it effortlessly.

“Oh, as if you don’t use that same line to flirt with girls,” Jisung shot back, smirking. Mark’s expression turned red, especially with you in the room. Without a word, he began chasing Jisung around the living room, carefully avoiding the cats scattered on the floor.

“Hey, I have a genuine question,” Jaemin called out, grabbing your attention. “Is it true that women like pathetic men?”

You burst out laughing at his so-called “genuine” question. “Not all, but yeah, a lot of them do,” you replied, resting your head against Renjun’s shoulder while glancing around. Mark had paused his pursuit of Jisung, looking intrigued by the conversation.

“Hmm… are you one of them?” Haechan asked slyly, clearly attempting to flirt. His comment made Renjun visibly flustered, prompting him to swat at Haechan in irritation.

“Alright, alright, my bad! Forgot she’s yours,” Haechan teased with a mischievous grin. The comment made Renjun’s eyes widen, his cheeks flushing a deep red.

“Yours?” you repeated, sitting up straight as you smirked. You weren’t offended at all; in fact, you found it amusing. Of course, you didn’t take the comment seriously, but you couldn’t resist playing along. “Am I yours?” you asked again, leaning closer to Renjun, watching as he became even more flustered.

The other boys were barely holding in their laughter, enjoying the sight of their friend practically melting into the couch.

“You know they’re just… messing around,” Renjun mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper, clearly embarrassed. Mentally, he vowed to get back at Donghyuck as soon as you left the room.

You turned your attention to Haechan, who still wore a mischievous smirk. Whatever comeback he was planning was cut short by the sound of the doorbell.

Startled, you stood up quickly, inadvertently putting too much pressure on your injured foot. Pain shot through your sole, causing you to wince sharply. The boys immediately noticed, their expressions shifting to concern. Before your legs could give out entirely, Jaemin stepped in, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you.

The doorbell rings again, and Mark is the one who goes to answer it. He barely has time to register who’s at the door before the man barges in, pushing the door—and whoever was behind it—aside, frantically looking for his younger sister, desperate for news about her. He scans the room, and the relief on his face is almost tangible.

“Oh my God, you’re okay!” he exclaims with a smile but quickly notices her pained expression. Jungwoo swiftly moves to kneel in front of you. His eyes catch Jaemin’s hand still resting on your waist, and he shoots him a deadly glare, making the younger man withdraw immediately. “What happened?” His tone and demeanor shift dramatically.

“I hurt my foot while running away from the wedding,” you explain quickly.

“Sorry about him; he was just worried,” Joy apologizes, still standing by the door. Mark invites her in, and she thanks him, stepping closer to the group. “I had to bring him. He was with me when you called,” she explains, feeling the need to clarify since she’d never intended to reveal your location to anyone.

“It’s fine, better here than… causing trouble,” you mutter, referring to someone who shouldn’t be mentioned now.

“I wasn’t going to cause trouble,” Jungwoo defends himself, stroking Lucy, who has found comfort resting against his legs. “I just wanted to have an honest conversation, you know, man-to-man.” Both Joy and you exchange tired looks.

“Even you don’t believe that,” she counters, shaking her head. “Anyway, I’m Joy, and this is Jungwoo. It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” she introduces herself warmly. Behind you, you hear a sigh and turn to see the smitten faces of Chenle and Haechan.

“You better not even get it started; she’s married,” you whisper, and their attention snaps back to you.

“To your brother?” Haechan asks curiously, still unable to take his eyes off the older woman. He doesn’t notice the disgusted face you make at the absurd suggestion.

“Who cares? It’s better to compete with one than with a hundred,” Chenle quips but quickly glances at his friend with mild disdain. “Or two…” Hearing this nonsense, you toss a pillow at the Chinese boy, though the older one is smart enough to dodge your attack.

“I’m Renjun,” Huang says, standing up and offering a handshake to both Joy and Jungwoo.

“Wow, you were right…” Joy glances at you but then focuses on the younger man in front of her. She studies his delicate and attractive features, smiling, which flusters Renjun.

Her comment makes you nervous too. Thank goodness she didn’t give any context!

“Well, I hope you don’t mind if we don’t stick around,” Jungwoo announces, getting to his feet. “We need to take you to the hospital, and missy, you’re staying at my place.” He helps you stand up.

“Hospital?” you ask, alarmed. You’ve always hated hospitals—they smell bad, are full of sick people, and worst of all, they hurt you more before they heal you.

“Yes, ma’am. Who knows what you stepped on?” Jungwoo says in a firm tone, making you pout. You always feel like a naughty child when he talks to you like that. It takes you back to the days when your father would scold you for every little thing you did as a child.

“Fine,” you agree reluctantly, though it’s not like you have much of a choice.

Before leaving, you grabbed the dress. You needed to return it to the designer. You weren’t going to wear that piece again—not when you were no longer marrying the man you once thought was right for you. As you looked at the dress, anger surged within you. Anger at having almost entrusted your life to someone who, at the first opportunity, threw you to the wolves. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what people were saying, what your family was thinking, and honestly, you didn’t want to. You had already punished yourself enough in the span of one day—you needed a break.

You said goodbye to Renjun, the boys, and, of course, the kittens, with a promise to return and spend much more time with them. They seemed to like you so much.

At the moment, Jungwoo was driving to Joy’s house because you refused to go to the hospital before changing clothes. Renjun’s clothes were comfortable, and you loved them, but they weren’t exactly suitable for being out in public. Joy sat beside you, scrolling through social media, looking for reactions to Minhyuk’s important statement. Her expression was unreadable, which only made you more uneasy.

Noticing your agitation, she spoke up: “Jungwoo, why don’t you explain to your sister why she can’t go back home?” Her attention shifted, now interested in what your older brother had to say.

“Earlier, I went to our parents’ house, and Hajoon was impossible.” His words startled you—not so much because of the situation, which you’d already expected, but because he referred to your father by his name.

“Hajoon…” you murmured, and Jungwoo glanced at you through the rearview mirror. “Why?”

Your father had always been stern and struggled to show affection to you and your brother, especially you. For some reason, you had always been very attached to him. You wanted him to host tea parties, play with your dolls, and even help you choose outfits on special occasions. But this often irritated him, as he came home exhausted from long days at work. You would still pester him, asking him to sit on the floor and pretend that the sink water was tea and that your dolls could talk.

Most times, he’d refuse, but after your insistence, he would grow even more irritated, leading to shouting matches. That’s when Jungwoo would step in—your protector, your knight in shining armor. Time and again, he argued with your father on your behalf. He had long ago accepted that your father wasn’t interested in spending time with you both. But you didn’t understand that and kept going back, hoping for more. Jungwoo was never particularly close to Hajoon, but he still respected him and always called him “Dad.”

Now, hearing Jungwoo refer to him by his name felt like a punch in the gut. What have I done…?

“He said he was going to disown you and kick you out of the family, so I disowned myself too,” Jungwoo said, smiling faintly as if to soften the blow.

“Jungwoo, this has nothing to do with you, for God’s sake,” you scolded, watching him pull a face.

“Of course it does. You’re my sister—I’ll stand by you anywhere, anytime.” You gave him a small smile, squeezing his shoulder. “And honestly, who even wants to be that man’s son? Let’s be real. If it weren’t for mom, we’d have spent our childhood in a boarding school. I couldn’t care less about giving up being a Kim,” he finished, turning his face away in a huff.

“You know you can’t change your brother’s mind,” Joy chimed in, still focused on her phone.

“Yeah… but it makes me think that in twenty-one years, he’s finally stopped pretending to care. He’s not even trying to fake it anymore…” You felt the tears welling up again. “I guess you were right—Minhyuk and Dad really do think the same way.”

Jungwoo’s heart clenched painfully. Why did you have to be so attached to a man who had never valued you? Why did you have to love him so deeply when he hadn’t returned even a fraction of that pure, boundless affection?

Joy wrapped her arms around you in a warm embrace, comforting you. She glanced forward, trying to read Jungwoo’s expression as he clenched his jaw and gripped the steering wheel tightly. If letting him near your father before was risky, now that Hajoon had made you cry, there was no way the two of them could be in the same room.

Against your brother’s protests about freshening up, the first thing you did upon arriving at his house was grab your phone and hurry to the bedroom—or at least move as quickly as you could with your injured foot. You had already asked Joy for Renjun’s number, and she gave it to you without hesitation.

And now, here you are: sitting on the bed, talking to Renjun.

“And how are you doing? I mean, with the whole situation, you know?”

“I’m still processing everything and… planning my revenge.”

“Revenge? Look, I know what he did was awful, and I’d definitely want to punch his face in, but revenge?”

“Renjun, in this world—even though I’m not exactly ‘public’—reputation still matters. And he destroyed mine. Of course, I’m going to get even! Now, enjoy yourself with the boys. I have to convince Jungwoo that I don’t need to go to the hospital. Take care.”

Without waiting for his response, you lock your phone and toss it onto the bed before standing. Just as you were about to leave the room, your brother appeared, knocking twice to announce himself before opening the door. You sighed and sat back down on the bed.

“Don’t be like that, little doll. I only want what’s best for you,” he said, crouching in front of you.

“I know, but I’m fine now. The cut isn’t deep, and Renjun took great care of it,” you explained, crossing your arms and watching as your brother’s expression turned curious.

“Why don’t you tell me more about this Renjun, huh?” Jungwoo stood, plopping down on the bed next to you and pulling you down to lie beside him. “You two seemed close. I mean, all of them did…” His gaze fell on you, eyebrows furrowed. “Was it them you—”

“No! Shut up, Jungwoo!” You slapped a hand over his mouth to silence him. “Actually, I only met him yesterday. He almost ran me over…” you said, smiling fondly at the memory of meeting the Chinese boy. You predicted your brother’s reaction and cut him off before he could begin a lecture, just like Joy had tried. “Save your breath. Renjun was incredibly kind and respectful to me. I know it was reckless… going to a stranger’s house, but I was desperate, and he seemed trustworthy.”

Jungwoo opened his mouth again, only for you to interrupt him once more. “And I was right! Don’t start with that either. I think I’m old enough to have learned my lesson, Woo.” You fixed your gaze on a spot on the ceiling.

“How do you do that?” he asked, horrified, looking at you strangely.

“I know you too well. And it’s not just that—you and Joy are like the same person. Seriously,” you teased, making him laugh as he folded his arms behind his head.

The room fell into silence, with both of you staring at the gray ceiling. You were both thinking about the same thing, though in different ways. You wanted to take down Minhyuk—subtly, little by little. This public fallout had already gone too far, and the last thing you wanted was to worsen the situation for your family. You couldn’t even bring yourself to check social media, too afraid of what people might be saying.

Jungwoo, on the other hand, had already asked Joy about it and knew things weren’t looking good. While a fair number of people were on your side, others were saying cruel things. He preferred to shield you from it. As for Minhyuk, it was best to keep him far away. If Jungwoo had the chance, he might send him to the hospital—and that would only escalate everything, especially for you.

“So… what do you plan to do now? About the… situation…” he asked gently, turning his head to look at you. He was trying to tread carefully, unsure of how much this had hurt you.

“I don’t know yet, but I’m dying to give him what he deserves,” you said, still staring at the same spot on the ceiling. “I just need some time and to see how much traction his idiotic speech is getting.” You sighed, sitting up and looking back at him. “I hope you brought my clothes.”

“There are some you left here. I didn’t grab anything from Mom’s house because Hajoon already blew up when I took your documents. Imagine if I walked out with a suitcase.” He sighed, mirroring yours. “But if you want, I can ask Joy to buy some more for you.”

“No, that’s fine, Woo. Thanks.” You stood, and so did he.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to talk to our parents, whether they like it or not,” you declared, heading to the bathroom. “I just need this foot to heal so I can wear my heels again. I hope I left a few pairs here,” you muttered to yourself, making your brother laugh at your priorities.

Soon after, he left the room to give you some privacy.

Downstairs, Jungwoo found Joy on the phone. The moment she noticed him, she abruptly ended the call, making him narrow his eyes in suspicion.

“What was that about?” he asked, his tone laced with curiosity.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” she replied quickly, locking her phone and crossing her arms. “How is she?” Joy asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

Jungwoo hesitated, still suspicious of her sudden behavior.

“Come on, Jungwoo, it was just an unnecessary call. Don’t stress over it,” she pressed, raising a brow as if daring him to challenge her.

“Huh. She’s doing fine. And if I know her well, she’s already plotting something against that jerk. Honestly, I don’t blame her.” Jungwoo walked to the kitchen, grabbed a glass, and filled it with water. He offered it to Joy, but she declined. “Oh, and she said she’s planning to go to mom and Hajoon’s place tomorrow.” He caught himself mid-sentence, quickly correcting how he addressed his father, and took a big gulp of water, visibly restless.

“Jungwoo, you really need to stop worrying so much about her. She’s a grown woman now,” Joy said, her voice calm but firm.

“She might be grown, but she’s still, and always will be, my little sister, Joy. I’ll never stop worrying. I just need... to figure out how to adjust.” He refilled his glass and exhaled deeply.

It wasn’t that he thought Hajoon would harm you physically, but he couldn’t guarantee there wouldn’t be yelling or some harsh words thrown your way.

“Missing her already, lover boy?” Haechan’s teasing voice cut through the air, immediately getting under Renjun’s skin. He sighed loudly, scrubbing a plate with more force than necessary.

“Shut your mouth, Donghyuck, or I’ll throw this plate at your face,” Renjun snapped, making Haechan raise his hands in mock surrender while laughing. He went back to organizing the kitchen counter, but the grin never left his face.

Ever since you left, Renjun’s mood had noticeably shifted. He had grown quieter, barely engaging in conversations or reacting to jokes. It was obvious that something was bothering him, and Haechan, of course, couldn’t resist poking fun at it.

The only time Renjun seemed even remotely himself was when he looked at his phone. He had even smiled for a brief moment earlier. Jisung, ever the observer, caught a glimpse and quietly told the others that it was you he was texting. That small revelation earned knowing smiles from the group. However, as soon as the conversation ended, Renjun returned to his sulky demeanor.

“Come on, just admit it—you’re smitten with her, aren’t you?” Mark asked casually while drying the dishes.

“Is this what love at first sight looks like?” Jaemin chimed in from the living room, his voice dripping with mock curiosity.

“Oh, you’re one to talk about love, huh, Jaemin?” Renjun shot back irritably, referencing his friend’s own complicated situation. Jaemin muttered something inaudible, clearly embarrassed. “And no, I’m not smitten with her. I’m just worried. I’ve only known her for a day, but she’s my friend.”

“Damn, calling her ‘just a friend’ even stung me,” Haechan muttered under his breath, loud enough for Renjun to hear. In response, Renjun splashed water in his direction, silencing him.

“I’m serious. I’m just worried,” Renjun insisted. But even as he said it, his thoughts drifted to you. He couldn’t help but think about you, replaying every interaction in his mind. Was it possible to fall for someone so quickly? It didn’t make sense.

“Look at that—he’s thinking about her again,” Mark whispered to Haechan, both of them chuckling under their breath.

Renjun spun around, his patience wearing thin. “Why is my love life suddenly your favorite topic? Shouldn’t you two be more worried about your own, Haechan and Jaemin?”

“Oh, mine’s doing just fine, thanks for asking,” Jaemin quipped as he strutted into the kitchen, one of the kittens trailing behind him. “I’m handling things like a pro.” He crossed his arms smugly, flashing a self-satisfied grin.

Everyone exchanged skeptical looks.

“What? Why are you all looking at me like that?” Jaemin asked, confused, as the kitten let out a soft meow — almost as if it, too, was judging him.

“Seriously? ‘Handling it well?’ You break up with your girlfriend, and the first thing you do is go after her best friend?” Chenle asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“The girl’s cool, and honestly, it’s just an unfortunate coincidence that she happens to be my ex’s best friend. Everything’s fine, though, guys,” Jaemin replied smoothly, but his laid-back attitude only earned more mocking looks from his friends.

“When Lyla finds out, she’ll probably cut the girl’s throat,” Jeno chimed in, joining the conversation.

“That’s the thing—she already knows, and she’s fine with it,” Jaemin explained confidently. Jeno raised a skeptical brow.

“I’m serious. Everything’s good,” Jaemin added with a casual shrug.

“Anyway, what about you, Haechan? Hooking up with your ex’s enemy?” The attention shifted to the younger Lee after Renjun pointed at him.

“Okay, I admit it wasn’t my most mature decision,” Haechan conceded, almost giving Renjun a point. “But she’s hot, and we’re having a lot of fun,” he added with a mischievous laugh, causing Mark, Jeno, Renjun, and Jisung to sigh in unison. The others, however, couldn’t help but laugh along, clearly enjoying the chaos.

“You’re all a bunch of idiots,” Renjun muttered under his breath, turning back to finish washing the dishes.

Standing in front of the mansion, you hesitated. You mentally replayed everything you planned to say, going over every possible reaction your parents might have when they saw you. It had been a day since Minhyuk’s infamous press conference, and, as promised, here you were—at your parents’ residence.

Taking a deep breath, you called out to the security guard.

“Miss Kim,” he greeted politely, and you gave him a brief, tight smile. You weren’t in the mood for pleasantries, but you weren’t going to be rude either. Making your way to the front door, you raised a hand to knock, but before you could, the door opened, revealing your mother.

You braced yourself. You expected her to yell, to reprimand you, and only then to offer comfort. But to your surprise, the moment her eyes landed on you, she pulled you into a warm embrace.

Katherine seemed eerily calm, and that unnerved you.

“Come in, sweetheart,” she said gently, guiding you into the house with a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “When we didn’t hear from you yesterday, I was worried sick. I feared the worst,” she confessed, stopping in front of you to cradle your face in her hands. “You can’t imagine the relief I felt when Joy told me you were okay.”

Joy. Of course, she had called your mother. You wanted to be annoyed, or at least curious, but deep down, you knew she had done it out of concern for your well-being.

“I thought you’d be angry,” you murmured softly, sadness lacing your voice. Katherine smiled faintly.

“Oh, my darling, I was,” she admitted, her tone firm for a moment, making you glance at her warily. But then it softened again, washing away your anxiety. “But when Joy explained what happened... I understood. And I’m so sorry, Peanut,” she said, using your childhood nickname and brushing your cheek with the back of her hand. “I admit, when Minhyuk’s parents proposed the idea, I agreed without much thought. I didn’t think you’d feel pressured, especially since Minhyuk seemed to agree so readily. I thought you two were on the same page.”

You frowned, confusion clouding your expression.

“What do you mean? He knew about it from the start?” you asked, shocked. You had only found out about the whole arrangement—the merger of families and businesses—after the wedding.

“Yes…?” Your mother looked just as confused. “He was at the meeting. He said he’d discussed it with you and that you only weren’t there because you had plans with your friends.”

That was the last straw. Anger surged through you, your expression hardening.

“It’s fine, Mom,” you said curtly, ending the topic. “Thanks for worrying, but as you can see, I’m fine. I didn’t come here to talk about this. I’m guessing you already know what I want to discuss.”

Katherine sighed, straightening her posture and nodding.

“Is dad home?”

“In his office.” You turned to leave, but she grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

“Sweetheart, your father is furious, especially after Minhyuk’s press conference. Are you sure you want to do this today?” she asked, her eyes searching yours.

“Before I share my side of the story, I need to talk to both of you. I’m not putting this off. My image is being destroyed because of your ‘golden boy,’ and I don’t care if dad’s mad. Believe me, I’m much angrier.”

You pulled your arm free from her grasp and marched toward your father’s office, determination blazing in your every step.

The dark doors burst open with a sudden force, cutting Hajoon's phone call short. He immediately ended the call as soon as his ungrateful daughter appeared in his office. Behind you was your mother, following closely, though she didn’t seem angry at all—her calm demeanor puzzled Hajoon.

“What are you doing in this house? You are not welcome here,” he snapped, rising from his seat. Your father was an imposing figure—his height, stern face, and booming voice could intimidate anyone. But you didn’t flinch. You were tired.

Katherine quickly moved to his side, trying to calm him down. She could see his rage building and wanted to prevent things from escalating.

“I just came to grab a few things and ask your opinion, dear father, about that sleazy Lee’s speech. And, of course, I’d like to know how you manage to be so… miserable, rejecting your children the way you do,” you retorted, your tone dripping with mockery. The bitter taste of rejection filled your mouth. You wanted to say more, to hurl years’ worth of pain at him, but you restrained yourself. Being painted as the traitor was bad enough; you didn’t need to be the hysterical one too.

“Reject? My behavior is proportional to yours!” His voice grew louder. “I gave you everything, girl. To you and your brother! And this is how you repay me? First, you run away from the marriage I invested money, partnerships, and countless hours planning, only to have you throw it all away. Then, I find out—on national television—that you’ve been cheating on Minhyuk all along?” His tone was mocking, incredulous at the allegations. “And your brother? He made his choice when he sided with you. You are the disgrace of this family, Kim Y/N!” he roared, the final sentence echoing like a thunderclap.

“Disgrace? Because we didn’t bend to your whims?” you shouted back, matching his intensity. Both your father and mother looked stunned.

It wasn’t like you to yell or confront him. That role was usually reserved for Jungwoo. You had always been the obedient daughter—the good girl who caused no trouble, accepted everything without complaint, and kept her head down. But not anymore. Being the perfect daughter had gotten you nowhere.

“I’ve had enough,” you said, your voice calmer but no less firm. You stood tall, meeting his glare. “I’m done being the good little girl you always wanted me to be. You’re not worth it.”

He opened his mouth to respond, furious, but you cut him off.

“Shut up. I’m not finished,” you snapped, and both your parents’ eyes widened at your audacity. Hajoon’s fury only deepened.

“I’m done chasing after you, begging for scraps of love from the father I once adored. Look at me—where did being the perfect daughter, always silent, always obedient, get me? I said shut up!” You were beyond caring now. To hell with hysteria, to hell with family unity, to hell with Hajoon and his oppressive control.

“When have I ever done something for myself? Ballet, friendships, schools, even college—it was all for you. I’ve always obeyed, and this is how you treat me? My happiness has never mattered to you, Hajoon. To you, Jungwoo and I were never more than heirs to your empire. And now, the moment I do something for myself—fight for my happiness—I’m suddenly the disgrace of the family?” You laughed bitterly, running a hand through your hair, your blood boiling with rage.

“And you think, because you gave me ‘everything,’ including an amazing mother—one of the only things I can thank you for—you know me so well? You should know I’d never betray someone.”

“Funny you say that. That argument died the moment you walked out of this house two days ago. What guarantee do I have that you’re not just a slut who’ll sleep with anyone?”

The sharp crack of your hand across his face echoed through the room. His eyes widened in disbelief at what just happened.

“You will never speak to her like that again, Hajoon,” your mother’s voice broke the tense silence. Her eyes burned with a fury you had never seen, not even when Jungwoo and you accidentally ruined her expensive painting. Katherine’s breathing was ragged, her anger barely contained.

“Not only are you questioning my daughter’s character, but you’re also insulting my worth as a mother. If you ever say something like that again, I swear I’ll do something I’ll regret,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Enough. You are not my father. You never were. Jungwoo was right to abandon you at the first opportunity. You’re lucky to still have Mom, because as far as your children are concerned, you have none,” you declared, turning your back on him. “Not that you wanted us anyway, right?” you added bitterly, storming out of the room.

Your mother called after you, her voice pleading, but you ignored her, quickening your pace to leave the house. You had even given up on retrieving your belongings. You wanted nothing from that man—not his money, not his name, not his legacy.

It had been hours since you left your parents’ house, and the sun was beginning to set.

Since walking out, you had wandered the streets, lost in thought. Memories flooded your mind—everything that had happened before the wedding, during the preparations, and everything that had led to your current situation.

A soft knock on your bedroom door broke your reverie. You were finishing getting ready, spritzing on perfume and checking your bag one last time.

Katherine entered after you gave her permission, stepping inside with a proud smile.

“Minhyuk is waiting for you in the living room,” she announced warmly. She was proud of you, proud that you were taking steps to focus on your life and find clarity—even in your relationships.

Unlike Jungwoo, who buried himself in work and showed no interest in any of the daughters of the family’s business partners, you had decided to give Minhyuk a chance. You had met him at one of the many charity events his father hosted. As usual, you and Jungwoo were dragged to these events to present the image of a happy, business-minded family, destined to inherit the empire.

At the start of the evening, you and Jungwoo greeted the hosts before being promptly abandoned by your parents, who left to socialize and discuss business with other guests. Jungwoo wanted to catch up with a friend but hesitated to leave you alone. Only after you assured him it was fine did he finally leave, while you wandered off to distract yourself with the appetizers at the party since you weren’t allowed to drink yet.

“You might like this one; the dough is made from potatoes,” a male voice interrupted your thoughts. You turned to see who it was. You recognized him—he was the son of one of your father’s friends.

“Thank you...” you murmured shyly, feeling slightly uneasy under his persistent gaze.

“I’m Minhyuk. It’s a pleasure,” he introduced himself, extending his hand. When you hesitantly offered yours, he brought it to his lips, leaving a soft kiss on your delicate skin.

Later, you asked your mother to clasp the necklace around your neck, and she happily obliged. As you looked up from your purse to the mirror, you caught sight of her face beaming with pride.

“I’m so proud of you, you know?” she said, resting her chin on your shoulder and gently adjusting your hair. “It makes me happy to see you giving someone from our circle a chance. Do you think he can make you happy?”

You hesitated for a moment. It was too soon to tell—after all, you had only met him two weeks ago, and tonight was your first official date. But if he continued behaving as he had been, you were sure the answer would be yes.

“I think so, mom…” you replied, smiling.

“Good. That’s all that matters,” she said, brushing your arms affectionately. “Now go, don’t keep him waiting!” Katherine encouraged you, handing you your purse before ushering you out.

As you descended the stairs, you could hear two male voices, which you quickly identified as your father and Minhyuk. The moment they noticed your presence, both turned to face you with smiles. Lee Minhyuk always had a certain sparkle in his eyes whenever you were the center of his attention, but tonight... it felt even more intense. His gaze glimmered like that of a tiger.

But you weren’t happy. Far from it.

You couldn’t believe you had trusted that man. Fury surged through you as you abruptly stood from the bench, slinging your purse over your shoulder. With purposeful strides, your heels clicked loudly against the floor, echoing your growing anger.

“Y/N?” A familiar male voice called out. Turning around, you saw Jeno approaching, his smile widening as he recognized you. “Oh, wow, you look… different,” he remarked, gesturing to your outfit.

You were wearing a sleeveless white dress with a V-neckline, paired with white high heels, a light blue purse, and a matching headband that swept your hair back. It was nothing like the casual clothes you had worn the day you first met.

“Yeah, I look less... Renjun,” you said with a smile. Though the mention of the Chinese boy brought a genuine smile to your face, the scowl on your features remained evident, prompting Jeno to frown slightly.

“Is everything okay? You seem upset. Is this about your... ex-fiancé?” he asked cautiously. But the mere mention of Minhyuk made you roll your eyes.

“I think so...” you muttered with a pout before resuming your stride, expecting him to follow.

“It’s just... the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced this was Minhyuk’s plan all along,” you whispered. With every passing thought, the pieces fell into place.

“Jeno!” you suddenly stopped, startling the boy as you grabbed his shoulders and locked eyes with him. “Will you help me?” Your gaze was full of hope, but Jeno averted his eyes, sighing.

“Why is it always me...” he muttered in defeat.

You squealed, throwing your arms around his neck. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around your waist, silently agreeing to assist you. For a fleeting moment, Jeno thought he heard the faint click of a camera shutter, but he dismissed it.

Later that day, you were getting ready to visit Arin’s house. You needed to explain everything to her. After Joy, she was your closest friend. Following your conversation with Jeno and the partial formulation of your plan, you felt a glimmer of hope. Jeno would gather evidence against Minhyuk, you would hold a press conference to clear your name, and everything would fall into place. You’d prove your innocence to everyone—including your parents, though you hardly cared about their opinion—and finally, this ordeal would end.

Or so you thought, until the intercom buzzed.

Picking up the receiver, you heard the doorman’s voice. “Miss Kim, the young man from yesterday is here again. Shall I let him up?” You immediately agreed, knowing the only “young man” from yesterday was Jeno. Placing the receiver back down, you headed to the living room. A few moments later, a knock sounded at the door. Opening it, you found Jeno, looking flustered and out of breath.

“Oh no, what happened?” you asked, equal parts concerned and irritated.

“Have you seen the news?” he asked, pulling his phone from his pocket and scrolling to find what he wanted to show you.

“No, I don’t use social media, and I turned off my phone after leaving my parents’ house,” you admitted, your tone laced with anxiety. You rushed to retrieve your phone from the apartment.

When the screen lit up, it displayed a barrage of missed calls and messages—from your mother, father, Joy, Jungwoo, Jisung, Changbin, Arin, Minhyuk, and... Renjun? Ignoring the others, you opened Renjun’s chat, the crease between your brows deepening.

“You never told me you knew Jeno... or that you were with him after that day. I just hope your ex-fiancé isn’t right about you. If he is... I’ll hate myself for helping a traitor, especially with one of my best friends. What a mess...”

It was clear he was upset. Not that he had any right to meddle in your life, but still, you had considered him a friend. Didn’t he feel the same? And what was he even talking about?

Swallowing hard, you turned to Jeno, who sighed and handed you his phone.

“It seems the heiress of the Kim Group—the cosmetics giant—was indeed having an affair during her engagement to Minhyuk Lee. And the alleged lover? None other than Jeno Lee, the former heir to another enormous brand—”

You stopped reading. Your head throbbed. You couldn’t believe this was happening. The barrage of calls and messages from your parents and Minhyuk already worried you, but now, knowing the potential cause, you were furious. You hadn’t even realized the article was from yesterday, shortly after you had hugged Jeno to solidify your plan.

“I knew I shouldn’t have ignored that sound…” Jeno muttered, running a hand down his face in frustration. “Even my parents called me. My parents, who haven’t spoken to me since I gave up the inheritance,” he added bitterly. “And they congratulated me...” He continued ranting, oblivious to your simmering rage.

All you could feel was hatred. The world around you blurred, and Jeno’s words became distant noise. Nothing mattered except resolving this mess. You weren’t going to wait any longer. If Minhyuk wanted a showdown, you’d give him one.

“Forget the plan. Forget everything. I’ll handle this myself,” you declared, your voice trembling with anger. You didn’t even bother finishing your makeup or applying perfume. Instead, you grabbed your bag and keys, storming out, with Jeno scrambling to keep up.

“What are you planning to do? Hey, slow down!” he called, squeezing into the elevator beside you.

“I’m going straight to Minhyuk. If his goal was to infuriate me, congratulations to him—he succeeded. I’m not going to let him destroy what’s left of my reputation. One question, Jeno—do you have your car?” He nods hesitantly, swallowing hard. As the elevator doors open, you stride into the parking lot with determined, forceful steps, not even knowing which car belongs to Jeno.

“Over here,” he calls from the opposite direction. “God… please don’t let this woman make me crash my car…” he mutters under his breath, eyes closed, opening the passenger door for you.

At the bridal shop where Renjun worked, his melancholic mood was impossible to miss, even for Hyunjin, his coworker and friend. Renjun had been so out of sorts that he couldn’t even tend to customers properly and was relegated to handling the cash register.

“All right, what’s going on?” Hyunjin asked directly, taking advantage of the quiet lull in the shop, where it was just the two of them for the moment.

“Nothing.” Renjun kept his response short, still scribbling idly in his sketchbook. Hyunjin let out an incredulous laugh and snatched the notebook from his hands.

“Listen here, Huang Renjun. Your sulking is dragging down your energy and the whole vibe of the shop. You’re supposed to be the charming designer who makes brides feel excited about their special day, but instead, you’re spreading your dark cloud of misery everywhere.” He wagged a finger in mock reprimand, while Renjun pouted in annoyance. “Look at this!” Hyunjin gestured dramatically at the small flower pot on the counter. “Even the flowers are wilting!”

“It’s just a bad day, Hyunjin. Leave me alone,” Renjun muttered, stretching his hand out to retrieve the sketchbook, but Hyunjin held it out of reach.

“Give it back, Hyunjin.”

“Nope,” Hyunjin replied smugly, tilting his head as he kept the notebook away.

Just as Renjun moved to chase after his friend, the door to the shop opened. He froze in surprise as Mark and Jaemin walked in, both holding coffee cups.

“What are you two doing here?” Renjun asked, perplexed.

“We were nearby and decided to check on you,” Jaemin explained, handing an extra coffee to Renjun, while Mark offered his to Hyunjin.

“You guys really need to stop treating me like some kid who needs constant babysitting,” Renjun grumbled as he sipped his drink.

“So, you’re not upset about the news involving her?” Mark asked, raising an eyebrow. Hyunjin’s eyes lit up with curiosity.

“Ooh, who’s ‘her’?” he teased, earning a deadly glare from Renjun as he snatched his notebook back. “Rude,” Hyunjin muttered.

“She’s Renjun’s girlfriend,” Jaemin announced with a grin, making Renjun’s face flush instantly.

“You never told me you had a girlfriend!” Hyunjin gasped in mock offense.

“She’s not my girlfriend! She’s just a friend—I’ve told you a thousand times,” Renjun snapped, clearly irritated, not just with their intrusion into his workplace but with the reminder of the tabloid article showing you and Jeno hugging. That photo. The way Jeno’s hands rested on your waist. Almost as if he were holding you in a way that was… intimate. Just thinking about it made Renjun’s blood boil. And the worst part? He didn’t even know why.

“Renjun,” Mark began, “you got upset when you saw her with Jeno. You were down when she left your house.”

“And, out of twenty thoughts you have a day, twenty of them are about her,” Jaemin chimed in. “You think we didn’t notice how soft and caring you were with her? Just admit it—love at first sight is real, and you miss her because you like her.”

Renjun blinked, the words hitting him harder than he expected, but he shook his head. “I refuse to take relationship advice from either of you… or Haechan.” He sighed, grabbing his coffee and notebook as he stood. “Hyunjin, take over the register—I’m taking my lunch break.”

“Hey! Of all of us, I had the longest relationship!” Jaemin shouted after him.

“That doesn’t count if she was crazy!” Renjun retorted. “And I’ve said it before—you two have the most messed-up love lives of all seven of us.”

Jaemin turned to Mark and Hyunjin, offended. “Did you hear that? I don’t have a messed-up love life…”

“Oh sure,” Mark smirked. “Breaking up with your girlfriend so you could date her best friend? Totally healthy.”

“I broke up with her,” Jaemin said as if it were obvious. “Better than cheating—I still have my principles!”

“Sure, Jaemin. We’ll revisit this tomorrow.” Mark sighed, turning to leave.

“And no one’s going to tell me about Renjun’s girl?” Hyunjin complained.

Mark and Jaemin exchanged a glance and grinned.

“Mind your own business, Hyunjin,” Mark said, walking out.

“A man with too much time on his hands…” Jaemin muttered, chuckling as Hyunjin’s grumbled curses followed them out.

After navigating Jeno’s car with hurried directions and nearly causing a crash, you both arrived at your family’s company. Predictably, Minhyuk was with Hajoon.

The guards blocked you at the entrance.

“Excuse me?” you asked, incredulous.

“Apologies, ma’am. We have explicit orders not to let you in,” one of them said firmly.

Jeno placed a hand on your shoulder. “Y/N, we should leave.”

You shook him off. “If you don’t let me in, I’ll cause a scene that’ll cost both of you your jobs. I may be disinherited, but my mother—who owns half of this company—would love to hear about this.”

The guards hesitated, fear flashing in their eyes, but they held their ground. Just as you inhaled to raise your voice, a familiar voice cut in.

“Stop this nonsense. Let them through.”

Amy—your father’s assistant—had always been kind. Like your mother, she never bought into Minhyuk’s lies.

“But, ma’am—” one guard began, but she silenced him.

“Do as I said. Mr. Kim is expecting them.”

As the guards stepped aside, you hurried to Amy’s side.

“You’re here for Minhyuk, aren’t you?” she asked as you moved toward the elevator.

“‘Here for’ is putting it lightly,” you muttered.

“She’s joking,” Jeno cut in quickly. “No hitting anyone today.”

Amy chuckled. “A good choice in company,” she teased, making both of you flush.

“We’re just—”

“Friends,” you both said simultaneously.

Ah, young love, Amy thought, smiling knowingly.

The silence between you was almost deafening, broken only by the soft background music that played in the room. As soon as the doors opened, Amy spoke up, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“He’s in your brother’s old office.”

“What?” Your frustration with Minhyuk had already been simmering from everything happening in your life, but now… your anger extended to your father as well.

“After your brother stepped down, he gave the office to... him. I’m sorry…” Amy trailed off. You didn’t respond, simply reached into your bag for your phone and marched straight toward the office.

Throwing the doors open with force, you startled Minhyuk, causing a few papers to flutter to the ground. He was reading over some contracts.

“Are you out of your mind?” he snapped, hurriedly gathering the documents before standing up.

“No, but you must be, testing the limits of my patience like this.” You weren’t one to raise your voice or pick fights. Confrontations had never been your style—until you rebelled against your father. And if you could go head-to-head with him, dealing with someone like Minhyuk was child’s play.

“Quite the audacity, don’t you think?” Minhyuk sneered, circling his desk to approach you, but Jeno swiftly stepped in front of him. “Ah, so now you’ve got a guard dog too?” He laughed mockingly. “You barge into my office with your little lover in tow... truly lacking decorum.”

The room fell into a heavy silence. You needed a moment to process his words. The tension between Jeno and Minhyuk thickened, the air practically vibrating with animosity. Then your laughter rang out, shattering the quiet. Both men turned to you, confused.

“Do you really think slandering me will get you what you want, Minhyuk? The company? Hajoon’s share? Because, let me assure you, my mother’s portion isn’t up for grabs.” Your smile didn’t waver. “I’ve figured out your plan, ever since my mother told me you attended the family meeting about the marriage and claimed I was on board with everything. Frankly, Minhyuk…” you sighed. “But this smear campaign? I’m curious—what’s your angle? Surely you’re not trying to turn the public against me for no reason… or are you?” You tilted your head, your eyes sparkling with amusement as they locked onto his. “Are you really that pathetic, trying to ruin a woman’s reputation just because she didn’t marry you?”

Jeno watched, perplexed, as you calmly dismantled Minhyuk’s facade. He didn’t fully understand your tactics, but one thing was certain—he wasn’t leaving you alone with this man. He barely knew him and wasn’t about to take chances.

“You think I’d let you walk away, all radiant and triumphant, after humiliating me like that?” Minhyuk’s voice quivered with barely controlled rage, his smirk gone. “You destroyed my career, my carefully laid plans. But if I destroy your reputation—turn everyone, even your parents, against you—I’ll get what I want. Your brother abandoned his post. You’d be disowned. It was the perfect plan. I didn’t expect you’d actually be cheating, though. Points for me—just look at who’s here.” He gestured at Jeno, who stood with arms crossed.

“Hey, jerk, keep running your mouth and I’ll make sure you end up in a hospital,” Jeno growled for the first time since entering the room. Minhyuk’s response was another derisive chuckle.

“Minhyuk,” you interrupted before the tension escalated further. A fight could wait — Jeno could send him to the hospital later if needed. “It doesn’t matter what you do. My mother controls most of the business, and guess what? She’s on my side.” You grabbed Jeno’s arm, leading him out. With a playful smirk, you blew Minhyuk a kiss. “I’d brace for a headline-worthy scandal this week!” you teased, winking before walking out.

“Care to explain?” Jeno asked as the elevator arrived.

You pulled your phone from your open bag, stopping the recording. “This, Jeno, is how I clean my name.” Your sly smile deepened as you bit your lower lip. The elevator doors closed, and you pressed the button for the ground floor. “A few months ago, I would have done nothing. I’d have waited for my mother or Jungwoo to handle it, as always.” You sighed, weariness weighing your voice. “But I’m done living like that. After this, I’m walking away. I’ll give up my inheritance, finish my degree, and leave this mess behind.” Bitterness lingered on your tongue as you spoke. The decision had barely settled in your mind, and already regret nipped at the edges of your resolve. How could you stay? How could you leave?

The car ride back was quiet until you reached for your phone, dialing Arin’s number.

“Finally, you’re alive! I had to call Joy to check if you were okay!” Her voice was a mix of relief and irritation, and you couldn’t blame her.

“Sorry, Arin. Everything exploded after the wedding. I’ve barely talked to anyone—just family, and now Minhyuk…” You rolled your eyes at the mention of his name.

“I saw his press conference online. What a psycho. Good thing you escaped. When I see him, though, I swear—”

You cut her off with a laugh. “I’m fine now. More than fine. But I called for a reason. I have an audio clip I need you to release. An article would be better, but a leak will do. Just make sure it hits the internet.” You sent her the file. “It’ll need some editing.”

Arin, a dedicated journalist for a respected firm, specialized in professional reporting. She’d climbed the ranks with sheer determination, earning her own column. Still, bending the rules for a friend didn’t hurt, right?

You heard her sharp intake of breath before she spoke again. “I can’t believe that scumbag.”

“And he won’t get away with it. Can you release it by the end of the week?” You knew it was a lot to ask—she was busy, and this wasn’t exactly her beat—but desperation called for boldness.

“Girl, I’ll get it out today!” The sound of furious typing reached your ears, filling you with hope. “I’m on it. But don’t think you’re getting away—I want the whole story later!” She hung up before you could even say goodbye. Honestly, how wasn’t she working for a gossip column?

Jeno glanced at your radiant smile. “I take it things went well?”

“They did,” you said, satisfaction lacing your voice as the car sped down the road.

"Yes! Arin is my friend, a journalist. She’s going to publish the audio along with a story. She said it might be out by today." Your enthusiasm was contagious.

"So, in the end, you didn’t even need me." He murmured playfully, feigning offense. His light-heartedness made you laugh as you squeezed his shoulder in gratitude.

"Oh, stop it. You were a huge help. If it weren’t for you, I might not have seen the article. And how else would I have confronted that weasel?" You smiled warmly at him, your eyes full of sincerity.

Night had fallen, bringing with it a weight of worry for Renjun. You hadn’t answered his messages, which was understandable given the accusations he had thrown at you—but Jeno wasn’t responding either. None of the guys, for that matter, and that only heightened his concern. The last update they had about Jeno was from that disastrous article, and it wasn’t like him to simply vanish.

A knock on the door made Renjun’s heart leap with hope, silently praying it was his friend. But nothing could have prepared him for what came next.

"I… came to return your clothes…" you murmured, lifting the bag. "And… maybe talk." You sounded far more timid than usual.

Renjun’s eyes didn’t leave you. Your style perfectly suited your figure, matching your personality in ways that had always mesmerized him. A smile tugged at his lips, and he stepped aside to invite you in.

"Look, I was a jerk in that message. I want to apologize." He closed the door behind you, his words rushed with guilt. "I didn’t mean to offend you like that. I was just… frustrated. I don’t even know why..."

You set the bag on a nearby shelf and approached him, a gentle smile on your face.

"I think I know why..." Your hand cupped his cheek in a soft, tender touch filled with warmth. "But… let me show you something first."

Reaching into your bag, you retrieved your phone, unlocked it, and turned it toward him.

It was Arin’s article. Published barely an hour ago, it was already going viral. Of course, your name, Jeno’s, and Minhyuk’s were at the heart of the buzz. Your lips curved into a proud smile—not just for yourself, but for your friend, who had pulled off this exposé in record time.

"See? He was lying. I’m not a traitor. I never even met Jeno before that day here."

Renjun’s gaze shifted from the screen to meet your eyes.

"I needed to show you, I—"

You were cut off as he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms circling you with fierce protectiveness.

"I believe you," he murmured against your neck, his voice low and muffled. "I just got so upset because..." He pulled back, his eyes searching yours. "The thought of you with him… with anyone else, it tore me apart. And it’s crazy. I’m falling for you after only a day. I’m sorry." His voice cracked, tears pooling in his eyes. "I’ve never been a romantic, but… Jaemin said something about love at first sight. And now I feel like a fool."

You cupped his face, your thumbs brushing gently over his cheekbones. Drawing closer, you rubbed your nose affectionately against his cheek.

"Jun…" you whispered, his name dripping with tenderness, making his heart swell. "Jeno talked to me, too. I think he and Jaemin might be on the same wavelength." You giggled softly, running your fingers through his soft hair. "He told me about love at first sight, too. Opened my eyes. And he said a certain someone got all pouty after I left..."

You sang the words with teasing delight as you pulled away.

Renjun watched you with wonder, his lips curling into a shy, almost bashful smile as his cheeks flushed pink. That timid grin made your heart flutter, a sigh escaping your lips.

Unable to hold back any longer, you threw your arms around him once more, drawing his delicate face toward yours and pressing your lips against his.

For a moment, he was too stunned to react, but when it finally hit him, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush together. The kiss was delicate, deliberate. Your fingers caressed the back of his neck as your lips moved in slow, perfect harmony with his. His hands slid beneath the hem of your short top, finding your bare skin. The warmth of his touch made you gasp softly.

"Jun..." you breathed his name, your voice trembling as his lips grazed your neck in slow, lingering kisses, each touch igniting a deeper burn beneath your skin. Your eyes remained shut, surrendering to the heat spreading through your body. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, desperate for something to anchor you as your knees turned weak beneath the onslaught of sensation.

"Don’t make me stop... please," he whispered against your skin, his breath hot and uneven as he inhaled your intoxicating scent. You tugged at his hair, and a groan rumbled low in his throat, sending a shiver straight to your core.

"Then take me to bed... your windows aren’t covered," you teased, your voice low and dripping with playful temptation. His lips curved into a wicked smile as his teeth grazed your pulse point, making your body shudder.

Renjun didn’t wait. He guided you with unsteady steps toward the guest bedroom—his own was too far, and he wouldn’t risk losing another moment. His hands roamed freely over you, sliding your blazer from your shoulders with unrestrained hunger, letting it fall forgotten to the floor. Your fingers traced the hard planes of his chest, reveling in the heat of his skin, before tugging impatiently at his shirt. He tore it off in one swift motion, baring himself to you, his gaze dark and full of desire.

You melted into the mattress beneath him as he lowered you down, his lips claiming yours again in a kiss that was raw, urgent, and unrelenting. His hand slipped beneath your skirt, gliding up your thigh with deliberate slowness, teasing you until his fingers brushed the damp heat between your legs.

"Are you sure I can?" His voice was hoarse, trembling with restraint as his eyes searched yours, wide and vulnerable, his lips swollen from your kisses. His hair fell messily across his forehead, making him heartbreakingly beautiful.

"Yes, Jun... I want you," you whispered without hesitation, your voice trembling with longing as your eyes stayed locked on his.

A soft curse fell from his lips as he slid his fingers beneath your panties, his touch finding you already slick with need. A groan of satisfaction escaped him as he felt your wetness, his fingers circling your swollen clit before slipping inside with aching precision. You gasped, arching into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as he worked you with practiced care, his hand moving with a rhythm designed to unravel you.

You rocked your hips into his hand, your body begging for more. He understood—oh, he understood perfectly—and his pace quickened, thrusting his fingers deeper, curling them just right. Pleasure coiled low in your belly, sharp and consuming, as your moans filled the room, each one pushing him higher with pride and lust.

The sound of your pleasure was everything. He had never felt so intoxicated, so lost in the power of making someone fall apart for him. You were his, and he would prove it over and over again, all night if he had to—until there was nothing left but the sound of his name on your lips.

Just as your orgasm hovered at the edge, his fingers withdrew. The sudden emptiness made you whimper in frustration, your body trembling, your eyes heavy with need. Renjun grinned, wicked and full of mischief, as he brought his glistening fingers to his mouth. His eyes never left yours as he tasted you, his tongue swirling around his fingertips with a hum of pure pleasure.

"Perfect," he murmured, his voice thick with reverence. You were his perfect indulgence, the sweetest addiction he’d ever known.

He made quick work of your shirt and panties, his gaze darkening as he took in your bare body. Heat crept into your cheeks, a flicker of shyness in your chest, but Renjun left no room for shame. His touch worshiped you, his eyes devoured you like you were a vision made for him alone.

He knelt between your thighs, spreading them gently but firmly. A sigh escaped him—deep, reverent—as he pressed a kiss to your pubic bone, savoring the moment before lowering himself further.

Then his mouth was on you.

His tongue licked a long, slow path through your folds, tasting every inch of you as though you were the rarest, most exquisite thing he had ever had the privilege of devouring. Your breath caught, and your fingers twitched in his hair, but you were too weak to hold on.

When he sucked your clit, just hard enough, your back arched, a cry ripping from your throat as your body convulsed. His name spilled from your lips, again and again, a chant, a prayer, a plea.

Renjun was relentless. The world faded. There was no time, no thought—only him, only pleasure, only the stars bursting behind your eyes as he unraveled you completely, again and again.

Your body trembled as the pressure within you built higher, the crest of your orgasm drawing nearer with every flick and swirl of his tongue. A desperate prayer echoed in your mind—please don’t stop, not again. He seemed to hear your unspoken plea. His tongue thrust deep inside you, curling, stroking with languid, deliberate intensity that made you whimper and moan in pure abandon.

The tension shattered, a wave of release crashing over you as bliss and calmness flooded every nerve. You cried out softly, your body melting into the mattress as the world dissolved into sensation. Renjun groaned against you, his tongue savoring the sweet, sticky essence of your pleasure. His lips and tongue worked meticulously, devouring you until there wasn’t a trace left, kissing the delicate skin of your thighs like a man utterly intoxicated.

He kissed his way upward, his mouth mapping a trail of reverent worship—across your trembling stomach, the curve of your breasts, until finally capturing your lips in a kiss so deep it stole your breath. The taste of yourself on his tongue only heightened the heat between you, making the kiss more intimate, more forbidden, more perfect.

“I don’t think I can live like before now that I’ve tasted you,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

A weak, breathless giggle escaped you as you basked in the afterglow. “You’ve made me your addiction.”

He chuckled, nipping at your neck, his lips brushing over your shoulders, leaving trails of warmth in his wake.

Your hands, still trembling, rested on his chest, feeling the rapid thrum of his heartbeat. With a playful push, you rolled him beneath you, straddling him. The spark in his eyes ignited, a mixture of amusement and pure, unfiltered desire lighting his face. The sight made your heart race—Renjun, so beautiful, so vulnerable, so yours.

You let your body tease you both, dragging your sore, sensitive core slowly over the hard ridge of his clothed arousal. The friction was electric, drawing a shared, shuddering moan from your lips as his hips bucked instinctively beneath you.

“God, you’re perfect,” he groaned, his voice heavy with need as his hands gripped your hips. He held you firmly but reverently, as if you were both fragile and the only thing keeping him tethered to earth.

Every movement of your body sent shockwaves through him, yet he refused to close his eyes. He couldn’t bear to miss a single second—the sight of your flushed, glowing skin, your parted lips still swollen from his kisses, and the way you writhed above him, utterly lost in your shared pleasure.

You moved together, lost in each other, and the world beyond you ceased to exist. There was only this—only him, only you, only the endless rhythm of need and passion and love.

When your movements stilled, Renjun let out a soft, frustrated whimper, his brows furrowing in need. But as he realized what you intended, his expression shifted—desire darkened his eyes as he lifted his hips to help you strip away the last barrier between you. His pants and underwear hit the floor with a soft thud, leaving him gloriously bare before you.

Your breath caught.

Renjun lay there, his chest heaving with shallow breaths, his skin glistening with a sheen of sweat that only heightened his beauty. Your gaze drifted lower, following the lines of his stomach until it settled on him—his cock, flushed and needy, the swollen tip already glistening with arousal. A bead of it pooled just above his navel, and the sight alone made your mouth water.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, part awe, part hunger.

You climbed onto the bed, your hands trembling slightly as they wrapped around his length, feeling the heat of him against your palm. He twitched at your touch, a strangled gasp leaving his mouth. Slowly, reverently, you leaned down, your tongue darting out to catch the trail of arousal that had dripped onto his skin. The taste of him sent a shiver down your spine—salty, heady, intoxicating.

You flicked your gaze upward, watching his face as you took him into your mouth. His eyes fluttered closed, his lips parting in a silent gasp. His fists clenched the sheets beneath him, his knuckles whitening as he fought to keep still when the tip of his cock brushed the back of your throat. The restraint, the tenderness, the pure, unselfish desire to never cause you harm made your heart thud wildly.

And then, unbidden, thoughts of Minhyuk crept into your mind—how selfish he had been, how little he had cared for your pleasure. The contrast was stark, almost cruel. Renjun’s passion, his overwhelming affection, his every action was a testament to how deeply he cherished you. The realization tightened your chest, and without meaning to, your eyes welled with tears.

You blinked them away quickly, grateful that he was too lost in bliss to notice.

Focusing once more, you hollowed your cheeks, your head bobbing in a steady rhythm that left him gasping. You cupped his balls, heavy and full, rolling them gently in your hand while your tongue danced along the underside of his cock. His hips twitched involuntarily, and a strangled groan escaped him.

The sounds he made—the breathless whimpers, the way he chanted your name like a prayer—were a symphony of raw, unfiltered need.

You felt him pulse against your tongue, the telltale quiver of impending release. With a final swirl around his sensitive head, you sucked him deep, teasing the slit with your tongue. His body went taut, and a shuddered cry of your name tore from his lips as he spilled into your mouth. The heat, the salty rush of him filled you, and you swallowed without hesitation, relishing how he writhed beneath you.

As his orgasm ebbed, his eyes found yours. He chuckled softly, watching the little grimace that flitted across your face at the bitter taste.

“Cute,” he murmured, his voice still thick with pleasure.

His hand reached for you, and you crawled into his embrace, straddling him once more. The heat between your bodies lingered, and as he pulled you down into a slow, searing kiss, there was no room for anything but him. His passion consumed you, and you gave yourself to it completely.

"Are you tired?" you whispered, your fingers brushing gently over his cheek as he pressed soft kisses to your knuckles, his lips lingering like a lover’s vow.

"Not even close, love," he murmured, a slow, teasing smile curving his mouth. His eyes glimmered with warmth, and you felt your heart race as he drew you in deeper. "We have all night… I’m definitely not worried."

His words, low and sultry, sent a spark of heat through you, and a soft laugh bubbled from your lips just as he rolled you beneath him. His body hovered over yours, his presence surrounding you, intoxicating and irresistible.

Then his lips found yours again—hungry, tender, and overwhelming. The kiss was more than a touch; it was a confession, an unspoken declaration of love and need. Your tongues tangled, a slow and fevered dance that left you breathless, your desire simmering like wildfire between you. His hands roamed your body as though committing every inch to memory, and with every stroke of his lips, every caress, you melted further into the sheer ecstasy of him.

did you enjoy your reading? why don’t reblog, like or leave a comment? this way i know you liked what i wrote and surely will keep up with the good content! 𖹭 masterlist | series masterlist

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[writing-for-marvel]

Day 4: Overstimulation

Mob!Bucky's Kinktober Honeymoon

Mob!Bucky Barnes × Wife!Reader

Summary: Bucky’s determined to give you an orgasm in every room of your private villa.

Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, spanking

Word count: 1.8k

A/N: dividers by me, please do not use. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

💋 Join my Kinktober Taglist 💋

Kinktober Masterlist | Main Masterlist I Library

The villa Bucky chose for the first week of your honeymoon is absolutely stunning - views directly out onto a white sandy beach from a large infinity pool, a built-in spa and sauna you are already eager to try out as well as being completely fitted out with the most lush furnishings and extravagant amenities.

But he doesn’t give you time to enjoy any of it, for as soon as you walk over the threshold, Bucky bends you over the substantial kitchen island, pushes your skirt up around your waist, pulls your panties down to your ankles and licks a stripe up your slit, paying no mind to the two bodyguards following you into the residence.

He starts out eagerly, pushing his warm, wet tongue into your pussy as his thick fingers spread your folds bare for him. His name falls from your lips in a low moan, but this only spurs him on, wanting to hear his wife repeat his name like the God the majority of New York believe him to be.

As he relentlessly devours you, your orgasm builds, the band in your lower stomach tightening with every flick of his tongue, lapping up the arousal flooding from your core that Bucky himself is responsible for.

“Fuck Buck, right there, don’t stop.” If it weren’t your beloved husband spreading your ass cheeks wide and nose deep in your pussy, you might be embarrassed by how quickly you are hurtling towards your release.

But James Barnes knows every inch of your body with exact precision, he has memorised the map of how to navigate to the height of your pleasure and has the uncanny ability to bring you right to the edge with a single touch. Something he prides himself on.

Your first orgasm comes when his thumb toys with your puckered asshole and his plump lips suckle on your clit. The smooth marble underneath your fingertips provides no grip, no traction to pull yourself away from Bucky’s onslaught.

Before you can even take a breath to stabilise yourself after your high, Bucky picks you up bridal style and walks your limp body over to the couch of the connecting lounge room.

He places you on all fours on the leather couch, and after ridding himself of all nuisance clothing, he drives himself inside your sopping entrance without any notice. Your velvety walls burn deliciously as you stretch to accommodate him - a stretch that you will crave for the rest of your life.

“Good girl, take it all.” Bucky commands. He starts out at a brutal pace, but somehow with each thrust he seems to both accelerate the movement of his hips and plunge deeper within you, filling you completely and kissing your cervix.

Wet, salacious sounds fill the grand room, along with your strained voice chanting Bucky’s name like a prayer. You bury your face in the top of the backrest of the couch in an attempt to muffle the obscene moans falling from your lips as Bucky grips your hips tighter and continues fucking into you relentlessly.

You feel him press an affectionate kiss between your shoulder blades before his domineering hand grasps your neck and pulls you back into him, the warm length of his body pressing against yours.

“Be a good wife and take everything your husband gives you. Every. Fucking. Inch.” His words are growled into your ear and a shiver runs down your spine. He punctuates each word with a hard slap to your ass.

He reaches around your body, his hand finding your clit with the ease of magnets attracting one another. As he begins teasing your sensitive bundle of nerves, you feel like you’re floating, unable to come down from the pure bliss Bucky has fucked you into, every collision of his hips against yours bringing you closer to your inevitable end.

“This fat cock feels good, doesn’t it?” Luckily it’s a rhetorical question because in your current euphoric state you can’t find any words to express how good your husband is making you feel. “Be a good little slut and cum on it for me.”

You don’t even realise tears are leaking from your eyes when your next orgasm slams into you like a train, thighs quivering, inadvertently trying to crawl to the other side of the couch to find some relief from the spasming pleasure, even though you know Bucky will never let you go until you’ve ridden out your entire high.

The next room you find yourself in is the adjacent dining room. The table had been set for your arrival, but Bucky soon sweeps the settings at one end crashing onto the floor as he lays your back gently on the mahogany tabletop.

“God damn, I’ll never get enough of this tight pussy.” Bucky exclaims as he pushes inside you again. You gasp at the sudden intrusion of his thick length, every part of your body twitching with heightened awareness.

His thrusts are more languid this time, longer and deeper, but you’re so sensitive from your previous orgasms that you’re already right on the edge with just a few pumps.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum, my love.” His voice is softer in tone, words soothing as he shifts the position of your legs so they instead rest on his shoulders. His eye contact is just as intense as the momentum of his hips slapping yours. “Need you to do it again for me. Want you looking in my eyes when I make you cum.” Bucky urges, his hand migrating down to where your bodies meet, his thumb rubbing tight circles over your puffy and oversensitive clit.

The pressure building within your core borders on agonising, you’re sure that this impending orgasm will be larger than any else of your married life thus far, and with how he’s hitting every spot inside you that engages an electric current surging up your spine, you know you’re so close.

It only takes another flick of your clit and you’re there, falling over a cliff and plunging into a deep ocean of pure pleasure.

“Fuck, I’m cumming again!” You announce as your back arches off the dinning table, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your entire body convulses by the sheer magnitude of your orgasm.

“That’s it baby, keep ‘em coming.” Bucky doesn’t let up, smirking as you writhe in front of him. “Soak me sweetheart.”

And you do just that.

Before you even realise what’s happening, your release gushes out of you, soaking Bucky’s stomach and thighs, the force of your squirt pushing him out of you. He rubs his bulbous tip frantically over your clit, prolonging your high and milking every last drop of arousal from you.

You sense him pick you up again, a soft kiss placed to your hairline as you move throughout the house again.

Much later in the night, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, the line between each orgasm blurring, waves of pleasure melding into one huge tsunami. You can’t even remember which room you last came in, mind in a complete daze, all you can perceive is Bucky’s looming presence over you and the way he’s playing your body like a fiddle, each stroke, strum and nip brings you closer to your next high like a symphony orchestra playing to a crescendo.

“Too much.” You attempt to mumble, unsure if you’re even articulating the words correctly, feebly pushing at his veiny arm to give yourself a semblance of a break from the overwhelming sensations your husband is subjecting you to.

It feels like your entire body is trembling on the king sized bed you get to call yours for the next week as you attempt to steady your breathing, trying to focus on anything other than the violently intense sensations Bucky is responsible for between your legs.

“Just one more, darling. I know you can give me another. You’re doing so well for me.” He coos before his lips latch onto your breast, the tip of his tongue lightly circling your areola before suckling your hardened nipple.

“I can’t.” A sob bubbles up your throat, understanding if you really wanted to stop you could use your prearranged safeword. It isn’t that you want to stop - it just feels too good, the pleasure so earth shatteringly intense that it borders on pain.

“Yes you can. I know you can, baby.” He praises, planting a sweet kiss to your sweaty forehead as you mewl, Bucky’s nimble fingers continuing to move in and out of you at a damaging pace. “Do it for me.”

All it takes is those four short words. Do it for him, do it for your husband, and you’re coming undone again for him. You whine his name as the most immense pleasure fires from the base of your spine, spreading like exploding fireworks through the rest of your body.

You don’t feel Bucky pull his fingers from you, nor do you discern his weight drop beside you in bed. It takes a couple minutes before your mind becomes a clear stream of thoughts and you can decidedly feel your extremities again.

“My perfect wife.” Bucky mumbles into your neck as you work to catch your breath and bring yourself assuredly back to earth after your visit to the heavens.

You turn your head to meet his gaze, and if you weren’t already breathless from the numerous orgasms he’s pulled from your body, the pure love and affection swirling in his stunning blue eyes you’ve fallen in love with would punch all the air from your lungs.

Warmth blooms in your chest at the soft, devoted smile painted on his features. He places a sweet kiss to your nose and then to your sweaty hairline.

“You still with me, darling?”

“Just barely.” You chuckle, finding enough energy to lift your arm up and draw along his sharp jaw with your index finger. Bucky takes your hand in his, kissing your knuckles and adjusting your extravagant wedding ring so that the scintillating diamond sits perfectly centred on your finger, before pulling your body into him so there is no space remaining between you.

“How about we run you a warm bath?” Bucky offers in a low tone, lifting your chin with a single bent finger so he can slot his supple lips against your own in a tender kiss. “We didn’t quite make it to the ensuite, so if we’re to complete the set, you still owe me one more orgasm.”

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[medullamindset]

SOME HC'S ABT THIS FUGLY MAN 💗

Uhh no tw's i dont think? Also this is my opinion so if u dont agree w smth.. Ok ^^ idc!! :)

(Also some of these hc's (like 3) are inspired by sunlit6279 on here, their Loris hc's were like the only popular ones when i read them so i injected those into my veins and ran with it yay)

SFW AND NSFW!

• Hes so tall.. Taller than Steb, whom is taller than caitlyn, whom is 6'0 (1'88 cm's) AND wearing heels. I'll say hes around 200 cm's, which is like 6'6.. yeah...

• I feel like hes kinda clingy but not in a "Pissing all by yourself, handsome?" Way but more so that he just follows you around silently and subconsiously, hes always gotta be in the same room as you, no matter what ur doing. Exept maybe pissing.

• adding to that i think he'd love showering together, as previously stated hes like huge so unless ur shower is magic only one of u is getting wet at a time lol.

but hes perfectly fine with shivering in the corner, as long as he gets to just admire you and lather you up himself, he'll gladly wash ur hair for you 💗💗

• But PLEASE RETURN THE FAVOUR OMG. Scratch at his scalp with a fruity shampoo and hes a goner, zooked, in pure bliss, ascending. Sighing contently with his eyes closed.

• saw someone else on here (sunlit6279) mention that he probably has a bit of a kink for scents. As a homeless drinker himself i doubt he smells that nice often, and booze sure as shit doesnt. But then you come into his life, lingering in his nostrils, and he just cant get enough. I feel like its the sweet smells that get him.. Marschmellow, sugary pastries, flowers, wild berries and chocolaty scents, that kinda stuff got him weak.

• He'll nudge his nose right against the pulse point of your neck and just inhale, wherever you are, whatever you're doing. Or your wrist right before kissing your palm tenderly.

• Physical touch and acts of service!! LOVE LOVE LOVES CUDDLING. ANY POSITION. ITS THE BEST TO HIM. please just cradle his head and scratch his hair n beard. Please.

He'll do practically anything you ask him to. Feet hurting? Massage. Need tampons/pads? What size pussy, babes?😽 ur hungry? Sandwich :3 wanna take over the world? Whatever you say beautiful. ☺️

...Want him to cum inside? Oh thank god.. He was close to doing that already..

• Hes def really sensitive when it comes to intimacy, everywhere. Hes a grunter, grunts and heavy pants. In the crook of your neck, behind your shoulder, into your hair, forehead touching forehead, depends on the position. God i want him so bad.

• he a munch. Loves eating you out no matter what ur sex is. He gets so sloppy with it, licking up and down ur hole like a thirsty mutt, shaking his head side to side as you cum, teasing ur nipples with his thick fingers.

Speaking of, have y'all SEEN how big his hands are compared to Vi's? Whom is like an 'average sized' person. His hands would swallow yours whole, hold his pinkie or something its probably easier.

•Hes FIT too, broad shoulders, lean back, biceps and thighs bigger than ur head.. Slutty lil waist. after a nice shower he'll wrap u up burrito style in a towel and carry you bridal style to your bedroom to get dressed (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)

• On a more domestic note he loves your cooking, even if you kinda suck he still appreciates it so much. And if your great at it hes grabbing seconds.. And thirds.

He would love to help you around in the kitchen aswell, hes a terrible cook himself, but he knows how to chop an onion ok? He'd much rather do it himself than see you cry from it. He knows ur not actually sad, but he doesnt want his babys eyes to sting :((

• Loves petnames so much!!!!!!!! He'll call you things like beautiful/handsome or gorgeous at the end of a sentence. But also uses hun or honey regularily.. Sometimes he will let a 'mama' slip, but not in a weird way. Especially if you have kids already or are pregnant you're his pretty mama, okay? OKAY?.

• i love his SINGULAR mattlock dangling over his forehead. I think its a mattlock anyway, it doesnt look like a regular braid at all.

Lol i just know he'd let u use him as ur personal fidget toy, i'd flick that thing all day, watch it dangle around and smack him in the eye LMAO

--------------------------------------------

(HI!! Im probably gonna make a part 2 cuz i most likely have ALOT more to say abt him but uh i just brainfarted so have this 🤲 also hihi my askbox is open so go ahead and yap if u wanna. Fic ideas, headcanons, literally anything. Im probably gonna toot out some Steb hc's aswell cuz i have a few and i need that fishstick bad.)

[pandapetals]

The Wedding

You and Logan get married!

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

also thank you to @coocoocachewgotscrewed for the idea of logan keeping the pen reader gave him and using it to write his vows.

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

divider credit: @enchanthings

"It'll be a small wedding," Logan grumbled, scratching the back of his neck with that familiar, slightly awkward air he got whenever something made him uncomfortable. He stood in the middle of the living room, looking like a bear that had wandered into a tea party, completely out of place.

You raised an eyebrow, glancing up from the pile of bridal magazines scattered across the coffee table. "Small? Logan, there's at least a hundred people living at the mansion alone," you said, your voice somewhere between amused and exasperated. "It’s not exactly going to be 'small' with that kind of guest list."

Across from you, Jean nodded, sitting cross-legged on the couch with a wedding planning book perched in her lap. "My wedding had three hundred guests, remember Logan?" she chimed in helpfully, flipping through a page on flower arrangements.

"Our wedding," Scott corrected from the armchair beside her, not even looking up from the paper he was reading.

Logan groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Exactly why we should skip all this crap and just get hitched already," he muttered, his voice low and gruff.

You shot him a playful look, shaking your head. "What happened to 'you can do whatever you want, darlin'?" you asked, mimicking his gravelly voice with a teasing smile.

Logan’s mouth twitched, almost into a smile, but then his eyes flicked back to the growing mountain of wedding plans, suggestions from friends, and magazines full of over-the-top ideas. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he stood just a little too rigid like he was bracing for an attack.

Truth be told, you were feeling the weight of it too.

At first, you had been excited—three months of engagement bliss, giddy over every little detail. The idea of a big, beautiful wedding had seemed like a dream. But now? Now it felt overwhelming. Everyone had an opinion, from the color scheme to the type of cake to the seating arrangements. You loved your friends, but the constant suggestions had turned into something else, something bigger than you and Logan. It had started to feel like the wedding wasn’t really yours anymore.

Jean leaned in, holding up a sample invitation. "Oh, and I was thinking," she began, clearly not picking up on Logan’s discomfort. "You could have this gorgeous ice-blue theme with silver accents—it would match the winter season perfectly."

Logan shot you a look—one of those looks that said I’m two seconds away from walking out of here. You couldn’t blame him. The more Jean talked, the more you realized something had shifted inside you. Somewhere along the way, you’d gotten caught up in making the perfect day, and forgotten what this wedding was really about: you and Logan.

Not the flowers. Not the guest list. You two.

Logan cleared his throat, trying once more to gently steer the conversation. "Listen, all this sounds real nice," he said, his voice tight with barely restrained frustration, "but what if we just kept it simple? Y’know, courthouse, couple of rings, call it a day."

Jean blinked, clearly baffled. "A courthouse? Logan, this is your wedding! It’s supposed to be a special day, something beautiful."

You opened your mouth to agree with Jean, to defend the idea of having a "proper" wedding. But then, you looked at Logan again. His eyes—those deep, hazel eyes—were watching you closely like he was waiting for you to decide. Not just about the wedding, but about what you wanted, deep down.

Suddenly, it clicked. You realized that Logan was right. You didn’t need a grand affair. You didn’t need three hundred guests or ice-blue color scheme or a designer dress. You didn’t need all the noise and spectacle. What you needed—what you wanted —was something that felt like the two of you. Something real. Something simple.

You smiled softly, the decision made. "You know what?" you said, standing up from the couch and tossing the magazines aside. "I think Logan’s right."

Jean’s eyes widened. "Wait, what?"

Scott finally looked up from his paper, equally surprised.

Logan raised an eyebrow, his usual gruff skepticism tinged with curiosity. "Really?"

You nodded, crossing the room to stand in front of him, resting your hand on his arm. "Yeah," you said, your voice quieter now, more certain. "I don’t need the big wedding. I don’t need all the fuss. All I need is you. " You smiled up at him, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders as the words came out. "Let’s just get married. Just us."

For the first time in days, you saw Logan’s shoulders relax. He let out a low breath, his lips twitching into that half-smile that always made your heart skip a beat. "You sure?"

"Absolutely," you said, your hand slipping down to intertwine with his. "Let’s get hitched."

A week later, you found yourself standing outside the courthouse, the sun just beginning to set in the late afternoon sky, casting a warm glow over everything. It was quiet, just the way you wanted it. No crowd, no elaborate decorations, and no endless chatter. Just you and Logan, and the soft hum of the world around you.

You looked down at the simple dress you’d chosen—nothing fancy, just something that made you feel good, made you feel like you. Logan, dressed in his usual button-up, looked handsome in that effortlessly rugged way only he could pull off. His shirt was slightly unbuttoned at the top, a teasing glimpse of his chest visible, and his hair styled in those little tufts as always, the white streaks more visible. 

"Ready?" you asked, your heart fluttering in anticipation.

Logan’s eyes met yours, steady and calm. "More than ready."

As you both stepped inside, the courthouse was quiet. There was no fanfare, no grand entrance—just the two of you, walking hand in hand, a quiet sense of peace settling over the moment.

The ceremony itself was simple, just like you’d wanted until Logan surprised you. He cleared his throat, looking a little awkward as he reached into his jacket pocket.

"I, uh... I’ve got somethin’ for you," he muttered, his voice rough but filled with something soft underneath. From his pocket, he pulled out a pen. Not just any pen.

Your breath caught in your throat. It was your pen—the one you’d given him two years ago when he had started his first-day teaching history at Xavier’s. A "good luck" charm, you had called it, but it had become something meaningful to Logan.

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes as Logan handed it to you with a small smile. From the same pocket, he pulled out a folded piece of paper, slightly crumpled, like it had been carried around for a while.

"I wrote somethin'," he said, his voice low as he unfolded the paper, his eyes flicking nervously to yours. "Figured you deserved more than just... y’know, me wingin’ it."

He cleared his throat, glancing down at the paper. Then, with that same rough tenderness that was so purely Logan, he began to read.

"I ain’t great with words, darlin'," he started, his voice softening. "But I figure you already know that. So, I’ll keep it simple. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I ain’t perfect... never will be. I swear to you, I’ll spend the rest of my life doin’ whatever it takes to make you happy, keepin’ you safe, and showin’ you that you’re loved. 'Cause you are, more than I ever thought I’d love someone."

By the time he finished, your vision was blurred with unshed tears. You didn’t need any more words. You didn’t need anything grand or fancy. In that quiet courthouse, with Logan standing before you, holding the pen you had given him long ago, you had everything you could ever want.

"Logan," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion, "I love you. I never thought I could be this happy, but every day with you... you show me something new. You make everything better."

He smiled then, a real, full smile that softened the lines of his face and reached his eyes—a rare sight, but one you cherished every time. He stepped closer, his hand warm and rough as he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch grounding you in the moment.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a low, steady rumble that sent warmth spreading through you, just like the way his presence always did.

You held each other's gaze as the quiet world around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you standing there. Together, you exchanged rings—simple gold bands that glinted in the soft light, but they felt like so much more.

Logan leaned in, his lips brushed yours, sealing the vows with a soft kiss. It was as steady and certain as the love you had found with him. It was simply perfect.

[chosove]

18+ mdni | thirsty! :p

cw. watersports!!!

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader

the sound of jingling keys filled your shared apartment, satoru stumbling in and kicking his shoes off while pulling you with him. you panted into his mouth as he placed messy, spit filled kisses across your neck. “g-good boy, ‘toru” you giggled, pinning him to the wall as he slobbered on your neck.

he hummed against your skin when you ran your hands down his sculpted torso, placing pressure on his lower abdomen and relishing in the gasp he let out. “b-baby…” he whined, grabbing your wrists for stability.

you ran your tongue down the column of his neck, eyes rolling back at the mixture of salt and something that could only be defined as satoru collecting in his clavicles. you rocked against the thigh between your legs, head falling to his shoulder when the stiff denim rubbed against your clit just right. satoru watched you get off on him, the sight of you falling apart distracting him from the pressure building in his bladder.

that is until you suddenly pushed against him, watching his head hit the wall while he gasped for air, stomach caving in. “that hurt ‘toru?” you whispered to him, pride blooming in your chest when he desperately nodded his head, tears beginning to line his eyes.

“d-dont think i can take it baby… ‘s too much this time”

you spent all night by your lovers side, ensuring he was never without a drink in his hand. he would look back at you after finishing each cup too- piercing blue eyes begging for your validation as he swallowed every last drop, stomach churning when you’d nod and bring your hand to his hair, nails scratching at his undercut and sending a shiver down his spine. “y’say that every time ‘toru” you complained, one hand continuing to apply pressure to his bladder as the other moved to his face, squishing his cheeks together and watching as he attempted to respond.

“b-baby its’ really ngh….jus’ lemme go this one time princess, please?” satoru’s voice cracked at the end of his words, hips suddenly pushing forward as he thrashed beneath you. you shook your head at his request, knowing he simply wanted you to get him to his breaking point. “thought you were the strongest, hm? what happened to that guy? tellin’ me ya cant handle this…what can ya handle then?”

finally letting his tears flow, satoru bit his lip before he rested his head on your shoulder, hands grasping at your dress so harshly his knuckles went white. “please…help me” his voice whimpered.

once again cradling the back of his head, you whispered reassurances in his ear, feeling him nod his head against you. “i know it hurts baby…jus’ wanna make ya feel better hm? can ya do that? can ya let me help you?”

hearing his desperate pleas, you encouraged him once more while pushing the hardest you could. “let go for me baby, wanna see it”. satoru’s groans sounded out as he finally emptied his bladder, the denim of his jeans darkening with every drop. “h-holy shit, fuck ‘m sorry th-theres so much baby, s-sorry ngh” his voice whined, body convulsing as he did what you said.

you brushed his tears away, smiling at his whines. “good boy ‘toru, such a good fucking boy for me” you spoke between kisses, pressing them to his now blissed out face.

“feeling better now handsome?” satoru nodded his head, finally standing at his full height without the weight of his bladder holding him down. “good. ready for me to clean you up so you can take care of me now?”

letting out a huff of breath, a smirk slowly formed on your lovers lips as he picked you up bridal style. “whatever ya say princess”

[gnohomotho]

HEAR ME OUT

This request that i have is so cheesy but sounds so good in my mind, forgive me 😭😫

Junho and reader doing like a private first impression thing like u know where the bride and groom are standing back to back and then they turn around. And like Junho is mesmerised has tears is his eyes

Like i literally only have the most cheesy and romantic ideas in my mind i CANNOT help it

Btw love your works 😜😚😚😚❤️❤️

I did my best, Anon, your message truly made my day. ♥ :D I hope I didn't overdo it, then again, cheese is my livelihood. Sorry for any oddities or spelling mistakes, I'm a bit in the trenches today. :c

It's a bit longer with some wedding dress backstory and getting ready, but I think the good part is there. :3 I hope you enjoy! ♥♥♥

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The Moment I Saw You

Pairing: Jun-ho x almostwife!fem!reader Summary: And you thought the dress shopping would be hard. The first impression you wished to give your husband-to-be went differently than expected, and you are swimming in a sea of love and bliss. Warnings: Remember that one modded Skyrim playthrough where the player accidentally glitched the cheese-wheel summoning spell and drowned the whole town in cheese? Well, that's what's happening here, but worse. Fluff! Fluff! More fluff! Word count: 2.7k

Everything should have been perfect.

You were picking the dress, and it was taking long. You were standing in the bridal shop, unable to choose, tired, wanting to go home. The person looking back at you in the mirror didn’t look like a bride to you. Even though everything was in place, it felt…wrong. Fake, somehow. Ill-fitting. The shop assistant was very kind, you thought her patient – but even she could see you were not exactly the glowing bride-to-be she was used to. Nor anything like the shiny photographs littered across the front desk.  

Your close friend was there with you, trying her best, you could hear her rummaging through the dresses again, muttering – “puffy sleeves, prom dress, no, no, no, form fitting…” She had the fervour of a very hungry owl searching for that one mouse that got away. “Dumb…long…short…dear god do people actually wear this…oooh, shiny…no…hmmm…” She was already buckling under the weight of all the new ones she picked out for you.

“Hey, Y/N, are you sure you don’t like this one?” She held up a gorgeous gown, white as snow, silk, smooth, reflecting light with a soft plunge of a neckline, and a revealed back. The skirt fell in a mermaid style, you could look like a gorgeous datura flower at the bottom.

“No, no, I’m not sure…not…” You think of yourself in the dress and frown. Your husband to be…Your Jun-ho…should he see you like this? He should see the most beautiful version of you on such a day – and yet you felt more like he was going to run away the moment he laid eyes you.

“Please? How about this one?” Your friend holds up her second choice. The dress is half lace, intricately woven with flowers and soft curling patterns, with off-the-shoulder milky sleeves, a lovely bodice and a small ribbon on the back. The veil would hide more of you, you think. But still. You eye the skirt, its velvety material falling almost straight down. You know you’d be leaving nothing to the imagination and wonder, what if this is all a mistake? What if he made a gigantic mistake, from the very first moment he met you? The first date? The first touch? What if you’ve been unknowingly deceiving him, and now he’ll see you for what you are, what you look like, inside and out? You can’t hide in white.

Your friend walks up to you and gently takes your hand to help you off the platform. She guides you away from the mirrors. As she walks you to the changing room, she is slowly stroking your hand, noticing you are beginning to resemble a vibrating ball of nerves.

“Y/N, if you keep frowning like that, I’m pretty sure you’ll have to pay for extra retouching of all the new wrinkles.” She tried to joke but immediately noticed that it was neither the time nor place and changed her demeanour. You sit, feeling the small bench weigh down with you as she does too, and gently hold your stomach as you speak. You’re unsure which one of you will get the hint first, but you’re pushing it out into the back of your mind as far as you can.

“I just…” You try to speak but the words come out all wrong. “I don’t think he’ll…he’ll be so disappointed.” You sigh and trace both hands down your face to calm down and wipe the stress away, but it clings to every molecule of your skin. “Jun-ho isn’t the type to…” No, all wrong. “It’s not the dresses, it’s me.” Gosh darn it, the tears begin to form. “It’s just me.”

“Hey, hey…darling…” your friend begins stroking the back of your hand as she holds your palm. She is warm and reassuring, but you struggle to believe her.

“It’s ok. It’s ok to be nervous. But you’re beautiful, no matter the dress. To be honest,” she looks around with added drama, as if feigning trying not to be heard, “I don’t think any of the dresses could do you justice and you should just walk out there stark naked if you want them to see how gorgeous you are,” she laughs and squeezes your hand, you look up and let yourself rest with her reassuring, peaceful smile that reaches her lowered eyes now directly resting on you. Although you’re not hugging, you feel held.

Her eyes move to your hand resting on your stomach and you could swear you saw a glint sparkle in their corner and her lashes seem to fall far slower as she blinks, but says nothing. She is so very thoughtful, you think.

“Look, if I know anything about Jun-ho, which isn’t much” she continues, “that man is head over heels for you and the moment you said “yes” I don’t think he’s heard any other words of any language since.”

You let out a small chuckle through another tear. She continues, knowing she’s on a the right path, knuckle punching every guard on the proverbial way.

“I know you’ve walked past this shop year after year, before any of this, and I know you loved the dresses for their beauty, their, elegance, their promise. Y/N, you told me yourself, what was it…winter…”

“Winter dresses,” you chime in quietly. Barely a whisper. Breathing in, you try to remember those cold walks.

“I walked past, and I tried to look at the winter dresses when I knew the shop was closed. The ones with those gorgeous, long skirts, heavy velvety fabric where they met the skin, forming an A shape towards the waist.” You didn’t tell her that you liked both their protectiveness and the fact that if you decided to dramatically fall into a dark body of water, their puffiness and beauty would truly make the moment worth it. You continued after another less shaky but still reserved breath: “Hugged it and up there, the white enveloping the chest – perhaps with lace across the collarbones, but skin hidden, just a touch away…” you let yourself sink into the memory, far before you met Jun-ho, your husband to be. “With that veil that resembled a winter cape from a Russian fairytale.”

“There’s my little Vasilisa,” your friend laughed and stood up. “I’ll be right back, no eloping!”

You sat there, hand still resting on your belly, worried, excited, feeling as if you’re living someone else’s life. Thinking of what Jun-ho must be doing and feeling. Feeling worse and worse, as if you don’t deserve this life.

You quickly pull out your phone to check the time and melt. You have no idea how Jun-ho's timing is always so perfect, but only a minute or two ago, the words:

"Hey, sweet [diminutive version of Y/N], are you ok? Sorry, just wanted to check on you. I hope the dresses are treating you well! Tell [friend] to look after my wife!” light up your screen.

Another message lit up immediately after: “*wife-to-be, I just can’t stop saying it, sorry! I love you, Y/N.”

The smile that spreads from the corner of your mouth and butterflies that saunter from your stomach almost pushed all the anxiety off a cliff. But it still clung to the edge.

Your friend waltzed in and to your utter disbelief, she held up the perfect dress.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

The click of your pearl-white heels was the only thing to be heard across the grass. You focused on their soft step and keeping your balance. Your heart was fluttering out of its chest, your stomach was doing its best to leave the building in excitement, in fear, in anticipation – the train of your dress followed you with a soft sliding murmur and the skirt gently touched each flower on the way. You were so glad he chose to do it this way, away from others. Flowers, a shield of wise oak trees. Bird chatter, a gentle breeze on your flushed cheeks, that’s all you truly needed. That, and him.

“I want to be the only one to see you, Y/N. The only one to witness the first sight of my wife.”

The sweetheart neckline clung to your collarbones, the off-the-shoulder fabric neatly stacked in on itself was cuddling your back and shoulders, light and nearly translucent. It rested on your skin as a light lover’s touch. The beautiful, laced veil, floating with you as well as behind you was hiding, yet still accentuating your shining hair with small white flowers nestled between locks. It fell periodically across your back and your shoulders, resting on your collarbones with each step. The heavy fabric of the dress which clung to your waist and fell once more felt cool and warm at the same time, giving you an air of ethereal slow motion. You looked like you belonged in a winter forest. A vision of indescribable, untouchable beauty. The wind gently played with your hair, as if longing to caress you as much as the man in front of you.

As you walked, the form of your husband-to-be materialised in front of you, facing the other way. Although there were many other features around, each quite beautiful, you had no eyes for them. Slowly, meticulously, as if not to scare him, you walked up the small hill towards him and lingered behind him. He hasn’t seen you, but he knows you’re there – his back is giving away the quickness of his breathing and his attempts to steady it down. Please breathe, my love…” Your thoughts leave their nerves at bay and soften into nothing but care and love for him. Finally, as lightly as a feather, you rest your back against his, feeling his breath quicken once more and his entire form tense and release, as if wishing to melt into you.

Jun-ho almost hesitates, but slowly, in what is trying to be a level manner, speaks.

“On the count of three, Y/N?”

You breathe out a tiny chuckle. Ever the pragmatic yet meticulous man.

“One…” you say almost in unison.

Your breath quickens, your heart is racing ten miles a minute, the dress seems to be tighter and tighter and the birds louder and louder yet so far away.

“Two…” he says alone and you whisper with him, mind turning to mushy cotton but enveloped in such a warm feeling of bliss.

Jun-ho takes in a last, heavy breath and as he lets it out…

“Three.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

You turn around in unison and both stand frozen in the moment.

Your eyes meet.

Jun-ho stands utterly transfixed, trying to take you in, all of you, in your entirety at once. But his eyes cannot contain you, so he keeps glitching, his hands that he wished to extend to you the moment you turned, are shivering and tense.

His soft gaze tries to dart and look at you from a different side, angle, but he cannot. You’re…you’re a vision that he cannot and will not disentangle from.

As his eyes are trying to take in every inch of you and warming his heart with every molecule he manages to snatch from the photons reflecting your form, his heart is firmly on its way out of his chest.

You hear nothing but your breath now, you’re looking up into his eyes, inches away from his face, which is frozen and beginning to tear at itself. As if a mask was cracking in nothing but a barrage of indescribable beauty and feeling.

Jun-ho slowly lifts a shivering hand to his mouth and rests it across his face, fingers almost up to his eyes, as if shielding both you and him from the raw, sheer affection that has swept him off his feet – and you, you are both the waves he’s drowning in and the only lifeboat on the sea.

“Y/N…” he barely chokes out in a whisper.

“Y/N…you…you look...” his hand is joined by his other, slowly laying each palm and finger against themselves under his lips. Jun-ho doesn’t know why he cannot control his expression, a wide smile is fighting to be seen, his eyes and heart are tearing at him in springs of bliss and absolute adoration as he wishes to scoop you up to him and melt into you, squeeze you so tight you won’t know where you stop and he begins.

But you are…untouchable as this vision before him. As he steadies himself, he tries to breathe, getting a breath caught in his throat. He finally looks away and you worry, worry your worst fears came true. Worry that the girl sitting in the bridal shop holding her stomach was correct.

But on second look, he is…oh gosh…” The mixture of worry and unexpected relief, bundled up in nothing but affection and deep care threaten to drive you to both laugh and tear up.

“Jun-ho…!” A hushed whisper from your tender lips brings him back to you, turning his head slowly back. He meets your gaze with reserved fear, one eye – look away – second eye – look away – both – remain with you. You see now, with warmth growing in your chest and flutters dancing across your skin, why he was shielding his mouth, then face, then needing to look away entirely. You take both his hands into yours, caressing each finger lovingly as you lower them down to your waist. You envelop his hands, still caressing each knuckle with the ball of your thumb.

“Jun-ho, my love…” you say slowly, levelly, in a low whisper. “My sweet love…it’s alright.”

Jun-ho cannot help it, the sides of his eyes are fully sparkling now. Your eyes are fully transfixed on his own and guide his gaze into you, and he smiles that wide smile you have grown to love so dearly. Jun-ho’s eyes are now fully glistening like still lakes under a full moon.

“I cannot believe you’re here. I---I---cannot believe…it’s…you…with me…My…My…”

Jun-ho cannot speak further but you feel the hands in your tender embrace reciprocate a grip far more secure and loving than you could ever wish for. As protective as it was reassuring. Jun-ho always held you as if you could slip away at any moment, but so tenderly that should you do so, you’d be protected and enveloped in loving warmth to the very end.

“Your wife. My darling. My husband.” Your face softened as you let the words slide across your lips and into the chasm between you, creating the gentlest of bridges.

“My---wife…” Jun-ho lets out an untangled breath of relief, the full smile finally taking over his face. Sparkles turning to tears fall at the same moment, as if a weight both descended from and knocked the air out of him in a single moment.

“You’re…you’re so beautiful. My love. My everything. You are…you are everything.” He’s still smiling as the small specks run down his cheeks. “I love you, Y/N. I love you. I’m so glad. So glad. So happy. I don’t know how to---can I…can I touch you?”

As the lightly shivering voice in contrast to his imposing, beautiful form reached your ears, you lightly caressed his cheek, and he leaned into your palm immediately.

“Of course, Jun-ho.”

Without a second to spare, he lovingly, gently, as lightly as he could in his given disposition, cupped your face and gave you the longest, most tender of kisses. Slowly his hands trailed to your waist, brushing, as if making sure you weren’t going to disappear or turn into a beautiful dream.

Finally, Jun-ho everso carefully took you in fully. Without warning but still tenderly, Jun-ho lifted you up to him, as if you and your dress were as light as the breeze playing with your hair. In one movement he twirled around with you, letting your dress get caught in the moment and carried by motion, his gorgeous wife, his Y/N, nought but his – giggling in his arms, a vision of angelic beauty in his embrace – and he caught himself laughing with you, in nothing but pure bliss. As he let you down just as gently, his touch lingered – he didn’t want to let you go for one second.

Squeezing his hand, you nudged your face closer to his, beckoning without words; he covered the remaining distance.

You felt his lips brush against your own – top, then bottom, then both – before resting on yours fully. Tenderly. Reservedly. Lovingly. You placed a soft kiss where they lingered and Jun-ho finally let himself melt into you fully, kissing you as if you harboured the last bastion of oxygen in the depths of the ocean, as if you were the only thing on this Earth that he wanted, needed, yearned and lived for.    

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶