#but i hope some others will like / appreciate it.

[lovscb97]

bang chan recs (18+)

key: !!! = personal favourite, s = smut, f = fluff, a = angst

add. notes: hai :3 i know i said i would make a skz recs list but the minute i scrolled thru my likes n started saving from chan onwards, i realised i had Too many recommended fics for him (this list is like 40 fics/drabbles long....) so i decided to just make member separate posts instead!!! i tried not to have repeats of authors to give u guys a broader scope to choose from n also sorry in advance that i yapped so much abt them it's just like . these r my all time fav authors so it's expected. anyways i hope u guys love these works as much as i do bcs they r from some of my absolute fav creators n plz give them lots of love n always make sure to appreciate these ppl <3

. . .

hopelessly devoted to you — @changbunnies (!!!, s, a?)

this was literally a 11/10 fic like i am not even joking rn. i luv greaser chan n even tho he messed up, the way he makes it up to mc is so so soooo sweet. the fact that he's so gone n pussydrunk while eating her out, the sweetness in how he holds her n fucks her is all too mindnumbing n i hope u continue writing bcs u r amazing at it!! i will always come back 2 this when i need a pick me up fr

2. bad idea — @hyunsvngs (!!!, s)

JUNOOOOO my lovely baby.... i adore u n all ur work always but this fic. This Fic. it changed the trajectory of my life. like not even kidding but i was a different person when i started reading this n when i finished it i was Changed. life is worth living now, the grass is greener n the birds always sing 2 me which i firmly believe is bcs of u n this beautiful yummy fic. i fucking LOVE stepdad chan sm like there's smth so gross n nasty abt fucking ur mom's bf n even tho mc is a menace, i still loved it. never stop doing what u do!!!

3. 1095 days — @luvyeni (s)

EX INMATE CHAN RAHHHHH!! i have akshewally been following ur work for so long n i LOVE!! the way u write :3 thank u for always churning out ur work so fast n being so good at what u do. im obv a sucker for daddy kink considering i eat it up every time n it's so fucking good i love how chan cares for mc n the way he gives it to her once he's back. mark my words i will EAT this man up n this fic whenever i stumble across it

4. milk and honey — @straykeedz (s, f, a?)

user straykeedz u have to stop... ur work too addicting n perfect.. ur depiction of chan too real n crazy (/pos)... they're gonna get u... but seriously i love bffs2lovers so bad n the way u always characterise chan n make him call mc so many cute pet names melts my heart :( i've also been following U for a long time n even tho everything u write is so so soooo good, this has to be one of my faves alongside ur inexperienced chan fic. i hope u don't pressure urself too much to update n jus do what u have to do :D

5. my wife — @chrizzztopherbang (s, f)

ngl i Think this is my first fic from u cus i followed u bcs of it n that's a given honestly cus newly turned husband chan?? eating his wife out metres away from his friends n family on the other side of the door n fucking her within an inch of her life right after they're pronounced husband n wife?? i love it i loved their bickering over who's a pervert n i just love the idea of mc finally calling the love of her life hers forever. i hope they r always happy alongside u

6. sweet nothing — @frenchkisstheabyss (!!!, s, f, a)

this fic actually changed me as a person too not even kidding. i EAT UP exes to lovers n the portrayal of it was so good here bcs there's so much unspoken tension between the two n then chan begging mc to not leave again n her promising she won't bcs all she wants to do is be his at last?? AWOOGAAAAA i need him so bad it's jinja michin (i am so cringe sorry..) ANYWAYS!! i hope u know tattoo artist + ex bangchan is a crazy combo n that the makeup sex was HOT HOT HOT!!! plz keep writing i adore u <3

7. pick you up — @moonchild9350 (!!!, s)

see idk if this is tmi but sex where ure being picked up n fucked is downright nasty in the best possible way n i fear i need to get railed like that by chan so u writing abt is literally u making my fantasies come true. this fic was a delicious mix of cute w chan telling mc he only works out so he can pick her up (based off of his bbl texts obv) n hot w him Actually fucking her within an inch of her life. i love all ur work tee bee eich so keep doing what ur doing!!!

8. spring has sprung — @cbini (!!!, f, s)

miss ems where do i even begin with u.. (u probably Do Not Know me but i know u smirk emoji. soz that was weird erm but ya i am the binnie anon who said u deserve changbin LOLZ) this fic was the perfect mix of cuteness w raw passionate fucking i love the idea of chan getting hard bcs ur dressed so preciously in a pretty dress i think it's rooted somewhere in his slight corruption kink which comes out def when u r all dolled up for him. anyways u never miss n i hope u know that <3

9. walking in on rooomate!chan / pt. 2 — @kacciidubs (!!!, s, f)

going 2 be very honest here i do not even remember what happened in part 1 bcs part 2 of this roommate chan fic actually blew my mind away like Seriously user kacciidubs u r insane!!! all ur work never misses n i am always so eager whenever u post bcs i've been following u n loving everything u put out for so long. ofc ur chan work is my favourite as u can tell but this fic... this fic was crazy the switch between daddy n sir oh my god what if i cream my pants rn. plz never stop writing <3

10. last nerve / pt. 2 — @cb97percent (!!!, s)

user cb97percent let me just preface this by saying whatever u write is INSANE. like i already knew u were a great writer but this fic? changed me as a person not even joking rn. the way mc n chan banter n how chan's an asshole who is pissed off how he can't get it up anymore unless he fucks mc is so funny n how the raw passion between them results in the best sex Ever. n ofc the ending w minho took me out n Yea i just . i have no words plz never stop writing to u as well

11. hush — @petrichor-han (s)

sucker for exhibitionism n sucker for chan so what better way to comemorate this occasion than by reading abt it? this entire scenario was so hot like honestly i can totally imagine chan's bitchass doing this bcs he's so cheeky in nature he would lose himself from the thrill of almost getting caught. u r amazing as always thank u for churning out so much content for kinktober may god or whoever u believe in bless u with eternal inspiration

12. daddy!chan helping you shave — @hyunjins-orange-slice-too (!!!, s, f)

i sent u an ask already talking abt how much i love u n everything u write but THIS. this made me weak in the knees bcs i have imagined this very scenario so many times if im being brutally honest. there's smth so sweet n domestic abt the act of helping ur partner shave n with daddy chan in the mix? kill me now plz. the way he asks if he can play w mc once he's done n how he sternly instructs her to be safe like omgkjdfjhjdfgjhhjg need him in ways that give the pits of hell a run for its money w how hot n nasty im abt to be fr

13. one last time — @baby-yongbok (!!!, s, a?)

like i said, i am a sucker for the exes to lovers pipeline alongside husband chan so while this isn't Either of those things entirely it still scratches the itch in my brain very very well. the way mc n chan exchange snarky remarks n how chan only says he's satisfied once they're done fucking OHHHH MYYYYY GODDDD... need this man carnally like i would dump him just so he can fuck me the way he fucked mc in this fr (that is a lie we r locked in 4 life). u r brilliant as always i always look forward to ur work so next time u r questioning if this is worth it just know lovscb97 on tumblr has ur back fr

14. chan ask drabble #1 — @skzms (s)

maymay.. my eternal luvr... the genius behind smrsmf minsung... ofc u were bound to eat this up n end up on this list. idgaf if it's just an ask answer or drabble bcs the way u write is so . so Elegant. i love how u always use ur words to describe the emotion lingering between ppl in love n the way u do it here w chan n mc, the way he reassures her afterwards n how he promises her he'll give her everything later while fucking his fingers into her ohhhh mannnn.. i can just imagine him in his suit thank u for bringing the vision to life fr

15. you're right, baby — @chlorinecake (s, f)

soft dom chan who is ur fiancé fucking u n claiming u bcs he's a lil pouty that u forgot ur ring?? n then going so far to say he'll cum in u to make sure everyone knows who u belong to?? RAHHHHHH HE NEEDS ME!!! this was written so deliciously i loved the way mc n chan cared for each other n also the ending was so cute LOLZ hope they r happy in every universe n that their wedding goes great fr u r an awesome writer user chlorinecake

16. silence — @valkyriexo (s, a)

make up sex make up sex make up sex!!! i love it so good even tho it hurts so bad when mc realises chan forgot to show up :( but the fact that he makes it up to her by begging her to not leave him n making her cum as many times on his tongue as possible for her to forgive him?? INSANITY!! the longing in their eyes n words n actions from how much they've missed e/o when he finally touches mc n oh man.. u ate this up

17. corruption — @goquokka00 (s)

STEPBRO CHAN RAHHHHH i am a sucker for him (in more ways than one iygwim eheheh.. soz) i loved the sinister blackmail u added into the story n how he fucked mc bcs of her bad grades by making up some shit excuse abt learning how to please someone like y/n u can't be this dense girl!!! (i'd do it too if he asked me #Tbh) ANYWAYS. idk how this didn't have more notes bcs it was hot asfk i hope u keep writing more stuff to come :3

18. chef's kiss — @hyuniepies (s, f)

the tenderness of mc n chan's love mixed w the nasty dirty talk ohhhh hyuniepies u r a GENIUS!! this is exactly how i imagine domestic life w chan would be like; him coming back home to u cooking a dinner n then fucking u absolutely silly on the countertop bcs he just can't wait after getting a look at ur figure n bcs he's missed u so much. i too would be obsessed w bangchan if (read: when) he becomes my husband teehee

19. chan ask drabble #2 — @miupow (!!!, s)

USER MIUPOW UR FUCKING BRAIN!! HOW DO U CARRY SUCH A HUGE BRAIN IN UR HEAD!!! DOES UR BACK NOT HURT FROM HOLDING UP THE DELICIOUS IDEAS OF BCHAN SIZE KINK!!! like i told u yst i love ur writing n i love U so bad. u always eat w every request or idea u come up with n i absolutely adore that for u i hope u truly never stop writing bcs u have a serious gift n i hope ppl keep telling u that constantly bcs i sure as hell will <3

20. pretty mouth of yours — @jeongin-lvr (s, f)

need to give chan head like . Yesterday. but OHHHH MEINNNN GOTTTT fiancé channie w mc sucking him off so pretty u know exactly what im a sucker for u dont u user jeongin-lvr? ur writing is tooooooo good i swear i have read so much of ur work n granted this is one of my fave chan works from u icl i love the jeongin ones even more but i'll add those to my innie recs list later :3 ANYWAYS!! plz never stop writing u r awesomesauce (cringe.) n i love u hope u r having a great day today

21. daddy issues — @hwan-g (!!!, s, a)

HELLO THIS FUCKING FICCCCC... it is so good so delicious so fucking beautifully written that it brought tears to my eyes no joke. i still remember the first time i stumbled across it n like wow.. i think i dmed u on my side reading account too to express how much i liked it bcs i rly Did like it truly was a piece of art n sometimes i can't believe ppl like u just write stuff like this for free?? u should be getting paid good money bcs all ur work ALWAYS eats <3

22. closing the distance / pt. 2 — @thefantasyden (s, f)

ik long distance relationships r tough n it's awful when u can't spend time w each other physically or touch either but hear me out . it would Not suck w chan bcs he'd do everything for u the way he does everything for mc in this fic. from how he shows up n is too nervy to kiss her to them finally touching each other for the first time n then she moves back to him?? ohhhh man i love love n i love U for making this ur work always eats n trust that i'll always come back to this fic when i need to rmb how much i love chan

23. riding chan's thigh/knees — @faeryacha (!!!, s, f)

i love daddy chan so bad im sorry im not even gonna hide it anymore n i love the way he was written here too, from the way he asks if mc wants to play to the way he has her fuck herself on him to get herself off like i'm not even into little space like that but the minute he refers to himself as daddy n speaks to me all soft n protective im on my knees on the floor ready to suck him off like my life depends on it. u ate so bad w this plz continue doing more amazing work in the future!!!

24. steamy desires — @notsoangels (s)

shower sex w chan mngnghfhghgh.. need him so bad id let him fuck me anywhere as he pleases but in the shower?? w the hot water cascading over us w just us in our little world like omgomgomg NEED. i love the simplicity in ur writing too n how it paints a picture in my mind bcs i can vividly imagine all of this happening like him making u squirt on his cock n then rinsing u off so u can spend time wrapped up with each other on the bed like plz. One chance plz.

25. the fuckboy next door — @seospicybin (!!!, s, a)

miss seospicybin.. how do u always do it? how do u always come out w the most mindbreaking jawdropping amazing insane array of fics without even breaking a sweat like hello? this series is so fucking good from the smut to the angst that hurts so good. i love the development of the plot n that chan tries So hard to be true to mc so he can be w her n the way she tells him to do it for himself like :( they deserve each other sm i am very much looking forward to part 4!!!

26. pussydrunk chan — @aeliuss (s, f)

mngngngngjghgh i love pussydrunk chan so bad n i love the idea of him being so infatuated w mc that he just Had to drag her away n eat her out. i also love that he's there to support her in the end n how turned on he gets from her just being herself like that is a real man!!! n the way it's so reflective of how chan is irl too? i feel like this is how exactly how he'd behave— needy but so so soo in love with u too

27. kitty — @bandgie (!!!, s, f)

no joke this fic made my pussy throb. i need him 2 do this to him so bad bcs i need Him so bad. the way u wrote the subspace drop n how immersed mc was in her role n the way chan guides her thru everything n then the aftermath of it like hngnngnfgddjghjgh... i always have loved ur writing but this particular piece rly got to me along w ur kinktober series i hope u continue to do writing bcs u seriously so so SO good at it fr!!

28. angel eyes — @temptaetions (!!!, s, a)

this fic. this fucking FIC. bro this is actual evidence of the fact that literary geniuses exist bcs the way u wrote so beautifully not just the actual smut but the whole storyline?? u r a godsend fr like u should be getting paid to put out work of this degree. not only r u a PHENOMENAL writer but i hope u never stop writing bcs this was actually so so lovely n amazing to read i wish i could revisit the first time i read this T_T

29. just (fucking) friends? — @snowyquokka (s)

HELLOOOO i love possessive fwb chan almost as much as i love ur writing!! the way he's so annoyed at how she said they're just friends so he takes out his anger on her but then at the same time asks her what her color is to make sure she's still okay WOWZAAAA.. need him Bad. n in the end when they both agree they don't wanna be just friends like chan.. i don't want 2 be just friends either.. come 2 me plz... anyways very yummy work fr

30. american whiskey — @straywrds (!!!, s, a)

this fic... how do i even begin w this fic... the way u write is actually so . so otherwordly yk? u rly pour all ur passion into ur writing n the way u describe everything like every emotion every detail every feeling it's so raw n real that it touches my heart. i can Feel what each of the characters go thru n the SMUT... the smut is so so delicious ofc. i've read ur other work n u r such a good writer plz keep going with what u do i will always support u fr

31. free use w/ soft dom chris — @hwanghyunjinenthusiast (s, f)

the dirty talk in this.. hngnngkgjjdgjjh. i need free use w daddy!chan just as bad as i need to reread this fic ten times until it's ingrained in my brain n any telepath w the ability to read minds out there is disgusted by how many times i think abt it (idk what this analogy was i am sorry). the way he eats mc out n the way he fucks her omgfkjdgjhjhgjh NEED HIM RAHHHHH u did so well w this

32. play tight / pt. 4  — @roseykat (s, a)

squirting w chan squirting w chan SQUIRTING!! W CHAN!!! the way he makes mc do it once n then immediately goes "yea i need to feel that on my dick" n fucks her within an inch of her life like ohmygodjkdjhsfghj i did eat up the angst too but the way u wrote them fuckinig was so nasty n delicious I ENJOYED IT SM!! this entire series is such a good read even tho it's not chan centered idk if there r more parts to it but if there r plz link me to them!!

33. dream you — @charmercharm3r (s, f)

ok i know we r discussing smut n all n trust that i will get to that but THIS!! this was so cute n precious ohemgee the way he loves mc n takes care of her n banters w her at the start so lovingly is so so precious to me i want him so bad :( the smut was also very delicious w chan switching to hard dom mode n making mc suck him off before ravishing her like oh my god PLZZZZ FUCK ME PLZPLZPLZ u did so well on this plz continue writing more for me at the least <3

34. brat-taming w/ chan — @blurboki (s)

this damn drabble was so.. hngngjfjghjhdgjh. i want 2 be a brat to chan so bad n act out just so he'll snap n put me into my place which is exactly what u wrote n i LOVED IT!!! it's so short n simple (not a bad thing at all btw) yet it's so powerful too? i love the characterisation of chan cus i firmly believe this is how he'd act in bed w a fussy bratty s/o like wow. Just wow. i love u and ur delicious mind i hope u r having a great day just for this :3

35. tell me all about it.. — @chnsbm (s, f)

hngnfjhdfsjghgjh the idea of chan making u forget all about ur stress n playing with u to help u sleep is so gfjfjjjffjhgjhjh HOT!!! the way he lovingly reassures mc like u don't need to worry abt it now just let me take care of u n how he's such a fuckin TEASE!! w the way he's touching her is so so hot u ate w this idea n i will forever die on the hill that this is really smth chan would do— tease u n make u talk while he's doing ungodly things to u just to see u stutter over ur words

36. be that guy — @daizymax (!!!, s, a)

i have said it once i have said it twice n i will say it one more time bcs i don't care how many times i need to reiterate it needs to be said: EXES TO LOVERS W CHAN IS TOP TIER!!! the smut in this was so delicious but the LONGING chan had for mc.. the way he felt the twinge in his chest for letting her go oh man.. i'd take him back if he so even looked at me but maybe im just crazy. BUT ANYWAYS!! this is possibly one of the hottest chan smuts there ever is so thank U for this delicious gift fr

37. more than just friends — @kwanisms (!!!, s, f)

werewolf chan my luvr... my big strong baby who will knock me up w his knot n fuck me until the sun rises RAHHHHHHHH!!! this was so so SOOOOO good n yummy like from the way he pinned mc to the wall to the way he ordered her around n how his self restraint snapped the moment she called him daddy like why's that so Me behaviour HELPPPP anyways user kwanisms u fucking ATE w this i hope ur pillow is cold every night u go to sleep <3

38. connected — @j-0ne25 (s, f, a)

let me just start this by saying I FUCKING LOVE U USER J-0NE25!!! ur interactive stories esp megaverse r so fucking good how r u so bigbrained my dumbass could never like actually JSDHJFJHGJH. anyways i rmb reading this very vividly n oh boy.. "baby patience, or do you need me to teach you a lesson?" Brother my panties r drenched n off dont even start w me rn. anyways this was so so delicious plz never stop writing i beg u

39. chan ask drabble #3 — @hyungszn (!!!, s, f)

saved the best for last but CLOVER.. (u dk me but i am ur biggest fan hai :3) "your mouth is saying no but your body is telling me a different story, mrs. bang." GRRRHJDJSDFJHKJSFKJSFKJGJ... I NEED HIM SOO FUCKING BAD!!! the way they banter even while having nasty sex n just love each other so bad n hello my breeding kink went feral w this. when mc asked him to not eat his cum out of her pussy n he was like "and why is that?" cus he wanted to hear her say it GRAHHHHH I WILL EAT HIM!!! on a side note, u r so so soooo amazing i have been reading ur work for so long i think since american pie n i can safely say u r one of the best skzblr writers i have ever seen along w so many other ppl like plz keep up the good work bcs i will ALWAYS support u for it !!!

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add notes: thank u very much to all these amazing writers fr. if ur work wasn't featured here now do not fret!! i probably (most definitely knowing my dumbass) just missed it cus i didn't scroll Very far down in my likes (there's like 2k+....) so trust that u will most likely end up on the next recs list!! i love u all very much regardless if u r here or not n as always a very big thank u once more for all ur amazing hard work, u r all doing so well n i hope u guys know that <3

[stylesispunk]

"Is God watching our eyes burn?"

Not outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Two best friends are falling in love. What could have gone wrong?

w.c: 6k

warnings: angst as always. No proofreading.

a/n: I wrote this during the afternoon, so please don't hurt my feelings. I hope you like it, though. It has the potential for a second part. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated.💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Falling in love with your best friend. What a typical beginning or an ending of a story.

From your eyes you could see people describing their partner as their soulmates, their other half, and their best friends.

What are the odds of you falling in love with yours? How? when he had never seen you with those loving eyes you witnessed in others.

Joel loved you. That wasn’t in doubt but he had loved you as a brother loved a sister, as a friend loved his friend.

And that's why you were simply that. Best friends.

You watched him as he spoke, hands moving animatedly as he shared some story or other, and you smiled and laughed at all the right moments. Still, there was a part of you that was miles away, caught in a daydream where he was looking at you, just once, the way people looked at their person.

It wasn’t something you’d wanted to feel. For years, Joel had been your rock. You knew each other in ways no one else did, inside jokes, old scars, even that soft corner of his heart that few others got to see. He’d been the one person you could count on, even when things got messy, and you never wanted to risk that. But somewhere along the way, the little moments started to change. His hand on your shoulder, his smile in the morning, his laugh when he caught you dancing alone in the kitchen, all those things that had once been innocent had started to mean something else.

You used to feel safe around him. Now, every word, every glance, every touch was charged with a question he couldn’t hear, and it scared you. You kept asking yourself, When did it happen? How did it happen? It was like a puzzle you couldn’t solve. One minute, you were friends; the next, you were wondering what his hand would feel like if it held yours just a little longer.

He had found his way inside you. You didn’t mean it sexually, but spiritually. It felt like him and his bared hand ripped the skin off your chest and took your most precious belonging. Your heart.

From that day on, it felt like your breathed for him. That you belonged to him. To his breath, to his thoughts, to his gaze. Every time he wasn’t looking at you, you felt your heart tearing apart.

It was maddening, really, how much you had come to need him, how each of his smiles, each of his laughs, felt like something you couldn’t live without. You’d catch yourself watching him, memorizing the lines around his eyes, the way his shoulders relaxed when he was with you, how his voice softened when he talked about something he loved. You’d watch him in the little moments when he didn’t know you were looking, like when he was lost in thought, eyes drifting away as he tapped his fingers against his knee.

But you were losing your hold on yourself, inch by inch. You knew it every time he walked into the room and your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat as if he was the most important person in the world. And he was. At some point, he’d become everything. And you could do nothing about it.

It felt like you breathed for him.

The more you tried to keep those feelings quiet, the louder they seemed to get. There were nights when you’d lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the ache of his absence like a weight pressing down on you. It was terrifying to know that you belonged to him in a way that he’d never understand. You belonged to his laugh, his gaze, the casual touches he’d give that left their mark on you long after he’d pulled away.

And you had came to understand why your relationships never worked out.

And why all his flings and lover weren’t very fond of you.

It all made sense now, why every other relationship you’d tried felt hollow, why every time someone else held you, it felt like a betrayal. You had always been searching for something that could fill the space Joel left behind, something that could compare to the feeling of being with him. And no one ever measured up. No one could make you feel the way he did with just a look, just a laugh, or a soft touch on your shoulder.

His girlfriends must have sensed it, too—the subtle pull that kept you by his side, the way he’d cancel plans with them if you needed him, the way he always looked for you in a crowded room. They saw what you tried to keep hidden. They could see that in some quiet, unspoken way, you were always there, between them and him.

But you also knew he was far away from healing from his last heartbreak. And you knew that when he kissed you like he mean it, he was looking out for comfort from you, the person who always was there.

And you gave in.

You’d promised yourself you wouldn’t let it happen. You told yourself a hundred times that you could be his friend, his rock, without crossing that line. But when he showed up at your door late one night, shoulders slumped and eyes tired, the air felt different. He looked worn down, like he’d been carrying too much for too long, and all he wanted was relief, a place where he didn’t have to pretend to be okay.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said, his voice low and raw, and you knew what that meant, knew it had to do with the last woman who’d walked out of his life, leaving him with wounds that hadn’t yet healed. You’d listened to him, night after night, as he talked through the pain, the trust he’d put in her, the hopes he’d had that had all fallen apart. And though every word cut deep, you were there, steady as ever, offering him comfort, reassurance.

So when he stepped closer, when his hand reached out, brushing a lock of hair from your face, you felt your own resolve crumbling. You could tell yourself all you wanted that this wasn’t real, that it wasn’t the way you’d dreamed it. But the truth was, his touch set you on fire, made you feel like you’d been waiting for this moment forever.

He leaned in, his face inches from yours, and you could see the flicker of need in his eyes, the desperation. You knew he was reaching for you to fill a void, to ease a hurt that still felt fresh, and maybe it was wrong, maybe you were both vulnerable, but in that moment, you didn’t care. You wanted to be the person he needed, even if it was only for a night, even if he was looking at you through the lens of heartbreak and loss. Because the way his gaze softened, the way he touched you, it was everything you’d been longing for, even if it came from his own need to feel whole again.

So you let him. You let him take that step, let his lips press against yours, let him hold you close as if you were the only one who could fix the pieces left broken. It wasn’t the love you’d dreamed of, but it was real in its own way, a moment where you belonged to each other, even if he would never see it that way.

And as he kissed you, as he held you close, you knew you’d regret it in the morning, that you’d feel the ache of him slipping away once the moment passed.

But that never happened.

Instead, everything between you and Joel shifted that night, as if a door that had always been locked was suddenly wide open. You had thought it would be one moment, a single night where you could pretend that his touch was a promise, that his kisses meant as much to him as they did to you. But he didn’t let you go, didn’t pull back into that safe distance of friendship once the night had passed. Instead, he lingered, stayed close, as if he was finding something in you he hadn’t expected, as if he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

The next morning, you’d braced yourself, heart pounding as you turned to face him, expecting to see the hesitation, the discomfort. But instead, you found him watching you, his expression soft, almost vulnerable, as he reached for you again. “Hey,” he murmured, and his hand found yours, fingers intertwining with a certainty that left you breathless.

And from there, it didn’t stop.

Joel didn’t hesitate, didn’t second-guess the leap you both had taken. In the weeks that followed, it was as if he had been waiting just as long, holding back feelings he hadn’t even realized he had. He wasn’t careful, wasn’t cautious; he didn’t linger in that unsure space between friendship and something more. Instead, he was all in, crossing every line with a steadiness that left you dizzy.

It only took him two months to raise the bar, to show you what it was like to be truly wanted. He’d come over with flowers in hand like it was nothing, his face breaking into a grin when you’d open the door, as if the sight of you made everything right. He’d brush hair from your face, a little slower than he used to, letting his fingers linger on your cheek, his gaze holding a warmth you’d once only dreamed of. There was no hesitation in his touches now, no holding back. He’d pull you close on a crowded street, run his fingers down your arm as you laughed over breakfast, hold you just because you were there. With Joel, you never had to wonder if you were enough.

And you found yourself slipping into those roles, playing the parts of the lovers you’d once watched from a distance. You both did, almost instinctively. At first, it felt strange, like you were walking on a stage, wearing someone else’s life. You’d spend your days together, trying to believe it was real, that the Joel who laughed into your shoulder and kissed you in the middle of a conversation was yours.

The first time he told you he’d fallen for you, it was casual, thrown in like he’d said it a thousand times before, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Even in the warmth of his love, in the softness of his gaze when he looked at you, there was always a flicker of something else, something he couldn’t quite hide. A shadow that lingered behind his smile, a sadness that clung to him no matter how hard he tried to bury it. You could see it in the quiet moments, when the laughter faded, and he’d look at you as if he was searching for something, as if he was afraid of losing you even while you were right there in his arms.

It hurt to see that sadness in him, knowing you couldn’t reach it, couldn’t pull him fully into the light. You’d watch him sometimes, catch him lost in thought, his eyes distant, and wonder if he was thinking of his past—of the scars he’d carried from those who had left him, the pieces of himself he’d lost along the way. There were nights when he’d hold you close, his grip a little tighter, as if you were an anchor keeping him grounded, and you’d feel the weight of that sadness, as if he was trying to drown it in the warmth between you.

One evening, after a quiet dinner, you both sat on the couch, his arm around you, fingers tracing lazy circles on your shoulder. The glow of the lamplight softened everything around you, casting shadows that danced across his face. You could see the sadness there, deeper tonight, almost heavy enough to spill over. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, he looked as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“Joel,” you whispered, reaching up to brush your fingers along his jaw, hoping to ease the ache you saw in him. “What is it?”

He looked down, his thumb moving over your knuckles in slow, soothing circles, as if he was gathering his thoughts. “Sometimes, I think about… how lucky I am to have you,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “And it scares me. Because I’ve lost things before. People. And… I don’t ever want that to happen with us. I don’t want to wake up and find out this was just… I don’t know, a dream.”

You felt your heart twist, aching for him, for the years he’d spent holding onto pain he couldn’t let go of. And yet, you also understood. You’d been best friends for so long, and even in love, you could sense that he was still trying to protect himself, to guard that broken part of him that he feared would shatter if he let himself believe too much, hope too much.

So you held his face in your hands, meeting his gaze with a steady resolve. “I’m not going anywhere, Joel. I’m here, and I want to be here. Whatever shadows you carry, I’ll be here to help you face them. I love you, all of you. Even the parts that hurt.”

His eyes softened, and he looked at you like you were something he didn’t deserve, something precious he’d stumbled upon and was still afraid to hold too tightly. But then, he leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours, closing his eyes as he let himself breathe, let himself feel the weight of your words.

But you knew, just as he did, that there was a part of him still haunted by her—by the girl he’d lost, the one who followed him like a ghost he could never quite shake. She lingered in the quiet corners of his mind, a memory that wouldn’t fade, an echo that haunted him even when he was wrapped in your arms. You could feel it in the way he held you sometimes, as if he was clinging to the present but couldn’t fully leave the past behind.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love you. You knew he did; you could feel it in every touch, in every whispered word. But there was a part of him still lost in a place you couldn’t reach, tethered to memories you could never truly understand. He didn’t talk about her, didn’t bring her up, and you never pushed him to. Still, you sensed the weight of her shadow in his silences, in the moments when his gaze grew distant, as though he was looking right through you to someone who wasn’t there.

It was a strange thing, learning to share him with a memory, a ghost that still lived somewhere deep inside him. You’d told yourself you could handle it, that you could be patient, that one day he’d let go of her completely. But some nights, when you caught him staring into the distance with that quiet sadness in his eyes, you felt a pang of jealousy—not for her, but for the part of him she still held captive.

In those moments, you couldn’t help but wonder if she would always be there, lingering just beyond the reach of what you and Joel were building together. If he’d ever truly be able to let go, to give himself over to this love without the pull of that past, that echo.

"Sometimes, it feels like I’m not really here," you said, voice tight with a vulnerability you’d tried to keep hidden. "Like you’re looking past me—to her."

Joel’s eyes flicked up, surprised by the intensity in your voice. He shifted, as if he wasn’t quite sure where this was coming from, but the sadness you’d seen in him so many times was still there, familiar and frustrating. "That’s not fair," he murmured, his tone soft but guarded. "You know it’s not like that."

“Then what is it like, Joel?” you demanded, feeling a pang of guilt even as the words escaped. “Because every time you get that look in your eyes, every time you drift off… it’s her, isn’t it?”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, weary. “She was a part of my life. I can’t just erase that.”

"And what about us?” you shot back, the words sharper than you intended. “Do I always have to share you with her? Am I ever going to be enough, or am I just supposed to be okay with half of you?”

Joel’s jaw clenched, and he looked away, his face shadowed. “You don’t understand,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then help me understand, Joel,” you pleaded, your voice cracking. “I’ve tried. I’ve been patient, I’ve given you space, but it’s like… it’s like there’s this wall between us that I can’t get past. And I don’t know if I ever will.”

He looked back at you then, his gaze heavy with something unreadable. “It’s not about you,” he said, frustration seeping into his tone. “This is my burden, my past. It doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

“But it does mean you’re not all here,” you replied, the words trembling with pain. “And I can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever be.”

There was a long, aching silence as your words hung in the air. Joel looked away, his face set in a hard line, and for a moment, you felt a wave of regret, of fear that maybe you’d pushed too far. But you needed him to hear it. Needed him to understand how much it hurt to be constantly measured against a memory, to feel like you were always fighting to pull him into the present.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and raw. “I’m trying. But it’s not that simple. You think I don’t want to let go? You think I don’t want to be… whole?”

The vulnerability in his voice was almost too much, cutting through your anger and leaving you feeling exposed. You could see how much he wanted to give you what you deserved, how he hated the way he was bound to a past he couldn’t change. And yet, part of you still felt that ache, that longing for a love that wasn’t haunted by shadows.

“I don’t want to be your second choice, Joel,” you whispered, feeling the tears rise, though you tried to blink them away. “I don’t want to keep feeling like I’m… not enough.”

Joel reached for you then, his hand finding yours, his grip firm but gentle. “You’re not my second choice,” he said softly, his voice barely holding together. “You’re the one here, the one I want. I just… sometimes, I don’t know how to shake the past. I don’t know how to make it stop hurting.”

You looked down at your joined hands, the warmth of his touch grounding you even as you felt the weight of his words settle heavy on your heart. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let his words reassure you, but the doubt lingered, a painful reminder of the distance that still stretched between you.

“I know you’re trying, Joel,” you said quietly. “But I know better than to wait for you back here.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you prepared to say the words you’d kept buried for too long. “I mean… I can’t keep standing on the sidelines, hoping one day you’ll be fully here. I can’t be the one waiting for you to decide if you’re ready to move on.” You paused, watching as his face registered the meaning of your words, a flicker of fear crossing his eyes. “I love you, Joel. But I can’t keep giving all of myself if you’re not ready to do the same.”

He looked at you, the silence stretching between you, and you could see the conflict etched into his expression. “You think I don’t want that?” he whispered, his voice breaking. “You think I don’t wish every day that I could leave all that behind?”

“I know you do,” you replied, feeling your own voice tremble. “But wishing isn’t enough. I need to know that you’re here, that this—us—isn’t just you trying to fill some empty space.”

He took a step closer, his hand tightening around yours. “You’re not just filling a space, not to me,” he insisted, his voice filled with a rawness you rarely saw. “But… I don’t know how to give you more when there’s still a part of me that’s… trapped there.”

You nodded, a painful understanding settling over you. “I know. And maybe that’s something you have to work through—without me.”

His grip loosened, and you felt the weight of your words sink in, the realization in his eyes piercing. He opened his mouth to argue, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he looked at you, the anguish plain on his face, and you knew he understood. This wasn’t what you wanted, wasn’t the ending you’d dreamed of, but you also knew it was the only way forward.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said finally, his voice barely a whisper.

“And I don’t want to lose you either, Joel,” you replied, your own voice choked with emotion. “But I can’t lose myself waiting for you to be ready.” You paused, your own breath shaking. “I’ve breaking my own heart for years already. I can’t do it anymore” you confessed, the truth spilling out in a rush, leaving you feeling exposed. The words hung in the air, heavy with all the unspoken feelings that had built up between you over time. You had spent so long convincing yourself that you could wait, that love would be enough to bridge the gap, but now it felt like the dam had finally burst.

He flinched, his expression twisting with a mix of regret and sorrow. “I didn’t realize…” His voice trailed off, the weight of your admission hitting him like a freight train.

“I never wanted to hurt you. You’ve always been my best friend, and now you’re so much more. I just thought… I thought we had time.”

You shook your head, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “Time is what I don’t have, Joel. I’ve given so much of myself to this, to us, and I thought it would be enough. But now, standing here, I see it’s not just about love.”

He swallowed hard, the realization dawning on him. “You’re right. I need to figure this out. I can’t just keep pretending it’s all okay when it’s not.”

The truth of his words cut through you, leaving a raw ache in your chest. You wanted him to be free, to find that peace, but the thought of stepping away felt like tearing off a bandage that had just begun to heal. “I care about you, Joel. I always will. But I need to put myself first for once.”

“Please don’t go,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want to lose you. You’re the best part of my life.”

You could see the pain in his eyes, and it nearly broke you. “I need space,” you whispered, barely able to hold it together. “I was brave enough when I let you in. I need to find out who I am without you being my everything. Maybe one day, we can find our way back to each other. But right now… I just can’t.”

The weight of your words hung in the air between you, heavy with the uncharted territory of separation. You could see the flicker of panic in Joel’s eyes, the realization that he might lose the one person who understood him the most. But you knew that this was necessary—for both of you.

He opened his mouth, searching for the right words, but they wouldn’t come. Instead, he simply stood there, helpless, as you took a step back. “I don’t want to lose you,” he repeated, the raw vulnerability in his voice piercing through you. “You’re the only one who knows me like this, who gets me. What if… what if we can find a way to work through this together?”

Your heart twisted at the thought, but you had to be strong. “I don’t think I can be what you need right now,” you said softly. “And you deserve to heal without me holding you back. I’ve become a crutch, Joel, and I don’t want to be that. You need to find yourself again, without the ghost of her and without me. We both do.”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration mixing with despair. “I don’t want to face the world without you by my side. You make everything better, you know? I can’t imagine not having you here.”

You felt a tear escape, rolling down your cheek as you realized how much you would miss him too. “I know. But..It’s really a shame we caught each at a bad time,” you said, the words tasting bittersweet on your tongue. The reality of it all hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. You had both wanted more, but life had a way of complicating things, of intertwining your paths at the wrong moments.

Joel looked at you, his expression shifting as if he were grappling with the same sentiment.

I wish things could be different. I wish I could turn back time and be in a place where I could give you everything you deserve.”

The ache in your chest deepened. “Me too,” you admitted softly. “But wishing won’t change anything. I can’t keep hoping that one day you’ll wake up and be ready to love me the way I need to be loved. You need to find your way first, Joel.”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of your words pressed down on him. “I know. I just… I don’t want to lose you in the process. I don’t want this to be the end for us.”

“It doesn’t have to be the end,” you said, feeling a flicker of hope amid the sorrow. “Maybe when you heal, I’ll be there still waiting, but now I have to free myself from you.”

“It doesn’t have to be the end,” you said, feeling a flicker of hope amid the sorrow. “Maybe when you heal, I’ll still be there waiting, but right now, I have to free myself from you.”

His brow furrowed as he took in your words, and you could see the conflict within him, a part of him wanting to fight against the inevitable. “Free yourself from me? That sounds so final,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “What if I need you?”

“It’s not about what you need right now, Joel,” you replied, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “It’s about what I need too. I’ve spent too long being your comfort, your escape from pain, and I’ve lost sight of who I am in the process. I need to find myself again, separate from you and your memories.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you raised a hand, cutting him off gently. “I care about you deeply. I always will. But I can’t be your crutch. I can’t let my happiness depend on your healing. It’s unfair to both of us.”

The silence that followed was heavy, a shared understanding lingering in the air. You could see the flicker of realization in his eyes, the understanding that your decision was not just about him—it was about you reclaiming your own life, your own identity.

“I just wish…” he began, his voice trailing off.

“I know,” you interrupted softly. “I wish too. But wishing isn’t enough. We both deserve to find our own paths, even if it’s hard. Even if it hurts.”

He nodded slowly, the understanding settling in, and you felt a pang of sorrow for the love that had been, but also a glimmer of hope for what could be.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, feeling the weight of what you were about to say. “Before I go, I want you to know something important,” you said, your voice steady but filled with emotion. “I don’t think of you as a bad guy for reaching out to me when you needed comfort. You were kind to me, and you opened your heart in ways I never expected. It’s okay to seek solace in the people who care about you. Just like you were there for me, I was always there for you, and I don’t regret that.”

His eyes met yours, vulnerability shining through the sadness. “I didn’t mean to put you in this position,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know,” you said softly, a tear escaping as you fought to keep your emotions in check. “And I don’t blame you. We were both trying to find our way, and sometimes, it’s messy. I’m not angry with you for needing me, or for those moments we shared. I just need to prioritize myself now.”

He nodded, the understanding settling deeper between you. “I just wish things could be different. I wish I could give you everything you deserve.”

“I wish that too,” you admitted, your heart aching at the thought of what could have been. “But I need to find out who I am beyond us. We both deserve that.”

You took a step back, feeling the distance grow between you, both physical and emotional. “I’m going to take some time for myself. I need to breathe, to figure out what I want. I hope you do the same.”

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, feeling the weight of what you were about to say. “Before I go, I want you to know something important,” you said, your voice steady but filled with emotion. “I don’t think of you as a bad guy for reaching out to me when you needed comfort. You were kind to me, and you opened your heart in ways I never expected. It’s okay to seek solace in the people who care about you. Just like you were there for me, I was always there for you, and I don’t regret that.”

His eyes met yours, vulnerability shining through the sadness. “I didn’t mean to put you in this position,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know,” you said softly, a tear escaping as you fought to keep your emotions in check. “And I don’t blame you. We were both trying to find our way, and sometimes, it’s messy. I’m not angry with you for needing me, or for those moments we shared. I just need to prioritize myself now.”

He nodded, the understanding settling deeper between you. “I just wish things could be different. I wish I could give you everything you deserve.”

“I wish that too,” you admitted, your heart aching at the thought of what could have been. “But I need to find out who I am beyond us. We both deserve that.”

You took a step back, feeling the distance grow between you, both physical and emotional. “I’m going to take some time for myself. I need to breathe, to figure out what I want. I hope you do the same.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but you raised a hand again, cutting him off gently. “Let’s not prolong this. It’s hard enough as it is. Just know that I care about you, and I always will. You’ve been an important part of my life.”

With one last lingering look, you turned to leave, each step feeling heavier than the last. The door behind you closed with a soft click, sealing away the warmth of what you once shared and leaving behind a bittersweet ache in your chest. You took a deep breath as you stepped into the world outside.

A world without Joel and you crossing paths again.

Five years later, you stood in front of the mirror, your heart racing as you adjusted the veil that framed your face. The reflection staring back at you was beautiful, but it felt like a stranger wearing a mask. The dress hugged your body in all the right places, the delicate lace and flowing fabric crafted with love, but it couldn’t hide the uncertainty churning inside you.

As you applied the final touches of makeup, you could hear the soft hum of voices filtering through the closed door. Friends and family gathered outside, their excited chatter mingling with the gentle music playing in the background. They were all waiting for you, eager to celebrate a love that was supposed to be yours. Yet, as the minutes ticked away, a feeling of pressure weighed heavily on your chest, a sense of urgency that made you question everything.

You thought about the man waiting for you at the altar, a kind and caring soul who had been there for you in ways you had never expected. He loved you deeply, and you admired him for it. But as you glanced at your reflection, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. Was this truly love? Or were you just filling a void left by someone else?

And then there was Joel. The memories of him flooded your mind like a bittersweet wave. The moments you shared, the laughter and the pain, the way he had opened your heart and left you wanting more. You hadn’t seen him in years, and yet he lingered in your thoughts, a ghost of what could have been. The ache for him had faded, but it had never truly disappeared. You had always wondered if you could love someone else as deeply as you had loved him.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself, ready to face the music outside. As you turned toward the door, your heart pounded louder, each beat echoing your uncertainty. Just then, a firm grip on your wrist stopped you in your tracks.

“Wait,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I need to talk to you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the world around you fading away as you stared into his eyes, those deep, expressive eyes that had once held your heart captive. Everything you had thought you’d left behind rushed back in an instant, and for a moment, you were both suspended in time—two souls that had once been so close, now standing on the precipice of an unknown future.

“Joel,” you breathed, the weight of his presence crashing over you. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to find you,” he replied, his grip on your wrist tightening just enough to show how serious he was. “I know this is crazy, but I couldn’t let you walk down that aisle without telling you how I feel.”

The air between you crackled with unspoken words, memories swirling like ghosts in the space around you. You could feel the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders, and as you glanced back at the mirror, you caught a glimpse of the reflection you had tried to ignore. It was a moment of reckoning, one that could change everything.

[love-of-the-red-star]

That time I got reincarnated as an Aeon

(Series)

Chapter eight: In which the Express celebrates the Day of the Dead with you

Dan Heng’s room was nothing short of simple and surprisingly comfortable.

You’ve been digging around the archives again after your short trip to your favorite desert planet, ready to contribute to the logs that made up Dan Heng’s archive.

He’d allowed you to touch the monitors and type in what you wanted, surprising even Himeko as he was usually rather cautious to let other people(usually March, bless her heart) roam around and touch his things unless they only wanted to read up on things.

You thanked him for that, of course. It was rather sweet of him to allow you to do this.

And so you typed away— made little personal notes on what the culture was like, and people that you also knew as yourself and not Delia. While Dan Heng’s records of Sigonia IV already existed, you were compelled to make your own as well, as a thank you to the people that had been so far hospitable to you.

You haven’t seen little Kakavasha in your visit, so you too wondered how he is now. He’s probably an adult— not so little anymore, growing into the familiar visage of “Aventurine” that you knew in your past life, but you hope it’s not the same horribly tortured man you know.

There was still discrimination, even a bit more than a decade since the freedom of this clan— they still warred with the Katicans here and there, but the disputes were more manageable, less genocidal as the Avgin were more protected by humanitarian groups.

But there wasn’t really any real interest for the cultures of people that had been long discriminated even with your intervention, and if no one was going to do the job of helping them at least preserve a certain view of it, you’d do the job yourself.

Sigonia IV would not be the only place that would stay in the archives for the other future Nameless to find, maybe one day you’d ask for Boothill’s planet, because while it no longer existed, you believed it wasn’t fair for it to die along with him.

You’ve made notes of it, here and there from what little you could get from some books that made mention of it and Boothill’s ramblings. While you could always consult Fuli for the rest of the things, it felt disrespectful towards your friend. You may be an Aeon now, but you knew honor— prying without your friend’s permission felt invasive, you weren’t a human anymore, but you know that kind of stunt wouldn’t be something he would appreciate.

Suddenly, you wondered about the planets you’ve accidentally destroyed, about the lives you had taken without meaning to, and the ones you drove mad beyond your control. Your typing still continued, undeterred by your silent grief as information flowed into the data bank without even a slight inaccuracy despite the difference in how you felt.

You should grieve for the ones who were lost, you thought to yourself. Glancing at the date present in your monitor, you found it was the best time too.

The Day of the Dead.

You’re not even sure if people even celebrated that holiday in this world. Maybe Halloween, but you doubt Dia de los Muertos, as the Latinos would call it, or Araw ng mga patay, as the Filipinos would say, is something widely celebrated in an expanded universe such as this.

Maybe you’d find a world that does celebrate it someday, but for now, maybe you’re going to be alone in giving acknowledgment and silent grief to the ones that had been lost.

You weren’t very close to a religion in your previous life as a human, but now that you thought of the holidays that gave people solace and something to celebrate, you began to feel a little strange that there was no god you could pray to as you were now technically one yourself.

Worshippers weren’t so bad now when you think of it as people laying their problems to a willing ear they can’t see or hear to give them the peace of mind they desired.

You finished up the logs, determined to plant the Avgin’s language inside of it next on the next time you’d touch the monitor. But for now, you had a goal in mind.

——————————————

Some researchers knew you as a grieving Aeon, with your cries reaching the far ends of the cosmos for reasons they sometimes don’t understand.

They observed you once again, mindful to keep their distance from hundreds of light years away as the telescope that found your distant visage caught on the fact that you were crying yet again. But this time, you’re quiet. There was no horrible song of lament that fried wires and caused damage, this one was silent, this one was red.

The liquid that flowed from what seemed to be your eyes was crimson, your lips pressed together as your expression looked forlorn. The telescope saw your hands move, then suddenly, nothing.

You did not want it to see you.

——————————

Setting up an altar was relatively easy, decorated with flowers you’d grabbed from a world away in the expanse of a mountain and a lot of candles you’ve carefully lit.

Lives lost in the fight of freedom, and the lives you took without meaning to. There were too many to count, and you doubt Pompom would like to have the train set on fire.

There were no pictures, no relics, there was simply you, the flowers, the altar, the candles.

Welt had passed by your room and seemingly recognized the decor, quietly joining your side as you started to kneel in front of the altar and mumbled something along the lines of a familiar prayer that he vaguely recognized.

Sometimes Welt forgot you were a human in your previous life. You’ve told him before, when you disclosed things about yourself to him and Himeko.

There was no god that you knew to pray to here, and to make it stranger, you were one yourself. Maybe you were trying to emulate it— old habits maybe, old bits and pieces of your human personality, and reliving specific memories. Or maybe you’re just trying to commemorate those you’ve lost in the way you knew a distant life away.

Welt joined you in your prayer. There is no god to direct his thoughts to, but there’s a strange sense of peace there regardless.

Welt stood up after a few moments while you stayed, lingering before eventually leaving the room.

“Why does it smell like candles burning?” March asked as she encountered him in the hallway.

“It’s for a celebration.” He said. “A day to remember and honor the dead.”

She looked a little confused. “Day to honor the dead?”

“Yes, you can join [Name] in their room if you’d like. It’s not a bad thing, although I can understand why you’d be confused— it’s not widely celebrated after all.” Welt smiled as March slowly nodded.

————————

You weren’t in the room for much longer, opting to head to the kitchen so you could make something to eat. You were there for at least two hours, and everyone seemed to leave you alone to your devices as you made some dishes you remembered from a past life.

Some comfort food, and fluffy bread.

You brought it to the dinner table with a smile as Pompom trailed after you to arrange the bowls and plates for everyone.

Once you were done, you made do of calling everyone in to eat. They don’t really ask why there’s a different feast of savory and sweet food on the table that was clearly not Pompom’s cooking.

Welt looked at you in a certain way that you know that he knew things, and you sent him an appreciative nod as you gestured for everyone to sit down and eat.

“These are some.. recipes that I know from my homeworld.” You began. “These typically aren’t stuff you would get when you’re celebrating the holiday in a very traditional way, but sadly my knowledge of cooking is… kinda limited.” You scratched your temple awkwardly.

“You don’t have to apologize for it.” Himeko said. “It’s the intent that counts.” She smiled, then placed some bread on her plate and stew in her bowl.

“You’re right.” You gave her a small smile of your own.

You failed to spot Dan Heng at the corner of your eye, looking at the bowl of stew in contemplation as Welt’s words sprang up memories of old friends lost in a life he didn’t want to remember.

Maybe he’d allow himself to grieve losses just this once, even if that person who’s lost those people in a distant life away wasn’t him anymore. Maybe for those that Blade had taken from him too in this life.

“Are you okay?” March nudged him gently, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” He said, blinking and snapping out of his thoughts before sinking his spoon into the stew.

Dan Heng found comfort in its flavor.

—————————————

March had taken photos of your room with the altar after dinner, plastering it into her wall with the label “Day of the Dead” in earth colored frames that contrasted the aesthetics of her room. She didn’t mind as much, surprising even herself as she was rather picky about her own decorations.

However, this was something that you shared with them, and that mattered to her. She couldn’t remember her past, and so to have a small piece of someone she knew that saved her was a nice feeling because she didn’t really quite know you. She doubt she ever would actually know you in the way the older crew members do, but that’s okay, that meant she could know you through the new memories she’d create.

She thought of you for a moment and what you’d lost, and she also wondered about the past self she can’t remember. Did she have people that she lost too? Were there people that lost her? Were there people that missed her?

She remembered her conversation with you, a strangely solemn topic for a girl so bubbly like her.

“What do you usually do?” She asked, clearly referring to the little holiday.

“People usually prayed, then offered food and flowers to their dead and all that.” You replied. “I thought it’d be a little nice to honor the people lost along the way. It’s a thing in my old world to not forget the dead.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She found herself saying. “I shouldn’t have pushed.”

“You don’t have to worry, it’s not offensive at all.” You smiled and patted the spot next to you. “It’s a pretty big celebration in my world, and in some countries it’d be a lot livelier than this.” You said as she went to sit next to you.

“They’d wear costumes and make up and bring out live music and everything. The food’s a lot better too I think— there’s too many for me to remember, so the ones I made weren’t the traditional ones people ate during that day.” You explained as she listened attentively.

“That’s okay, it was delicious anyways.” She giggled, shifting slightly to adjust herself before settling in comfortably in a few moments of silence.

“Do you…. Miss your old world? Ah— you don’t have to answer that.” March sputtered, realizing her mistake.

“It’s okay. And yeah… maybe just a bit. I’m not sure how to feel about it to be honest.” You said, glancing at the windows of your room.

She couldn’t see what kind of expression you were making, and so she found herself hugging you. There was something inherently sad about you despite your antics, like you’ve lost too many things.

You returned that embrace.

————————-

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX(HERE), Part X……

Interludes: one, two…

Special chapter: link

Yeeeeee hello y’all!!! Pushing this chapter out in celebration of All Souls Day! :DD

I hope all of you are well! Also I’ll be happy to answer any of your questions regarding the series, so drop any thoughts, don’t be shy <333

[textmel8r]

HOLY RETRIBUTION. geto

(3.5k) non sorcerer bitches’ only use is to choke on pp or something like that

↝ cw . fem reader , reader def mentally unwell , extremely dubious consent , sadism , blow job , extreme degradation , cult leader geto , condom stays on because geto doesn’t wanna touch you lowly non sorcerer ew , facial , gagging , he legit almost kills reader with cock like,, chill girl

↝ an . this is so embarrassing guys im still taking time off but i was looking through my drafts and i wrote this so long ago for @inciseleviathan and i just never posted it so here are crumbs because you all are so nice to me. this is my first stand alone oneshot(n like first time i’ve ever written a sub reader…. i was shaking the entire time) + it was written so longgggg ago its so bad im sorry levi i suck butt at writing geto

↝ join my discord server! we share headcanons, fanfic recs, color roles, and more drooling emoji

“Welcome, F/n L/n.”

You stand there, letting the heavy door to his room swing shut on its own. With a curt nod, you offer a gentle reply. “To be in your presence like this is an honor.”

Geto sits before you, spread-thigh and wide on his personal throne. A large, cushiony loveseat crafted from royal purple leather, its seams stitched in yellow twine. Resting an elbow on its arm, the man cradles his chin in the dip of a palm and regards you with an uninterested gaze. A stark contrast to the ways in which stars inhabit your eyes when you look toward him. Like you love him or something. Utterly pathetic. 

You move, bending a knee toward the ground, but Geto halts you. “Not yet.” So you rise back up to your feet. The obedience is appreciated; Geto enjoys this dynamic, holding the reins to your useless body. You’re the type to relinquish control in the face of high beings, he can practically smell the submission that permeated your aura. Geto smirks behind the fingers that cage his jaw. “So eager to sing praises.”

As if it was the most obvious thing in the world, you nod. “To you? Of course.”

“So I’ve seen. Your latest donations have been entirely too generous.” Cheekily, he giggles. “Does my cause really mean that much to you? Or were you just hoping to catch my attention?”

“I am just a humble follower looking to support,” you reply, bowing your neck. “I don’t want my actions to be misconstrued, this hasn’t been some sort of attempt to get in closer with you. I swear it.”

The devotion is so potent, it sends his nose wrinkling. “Raise your head. I told you it’s not time to pay obeisances yet.” Your head snaps forth, Geto can see the lump get swallowed down your throat. The hand he held to his face drops, and up the man sits, straightening his shoulders. Widening himself in all the ways similar to a predator intimidating its prey. “You’re not a sorcerer.”

You avert your eyes, bearing the shame in all its glory. “That’s right.” 

“You’re not much of anything, are you?” Not much besides a wimpy money bag he could suck dry. 

Again, you wilt. “No, Master Geto.”

It’s unbearable, the way you crumple so easily. Geto expected more, expected a little banter. Maybe a sweet smile, like all the other women liked to flash him with. A lame attempt at flirtation, to be likely shrugged off without a hitch. But this? This is utterly pathetic. 

Geto’s grin is forged in desolate disgust, eyes lidded and neck craned forward. “Step forward, will you please?” That sullen face, he must see it up close. Such a familiar expression, depression carved into the permanent frown lines that hang near the corners of your chapped lips. He knows them too well. Knows the dark circles and the permanent pout. “Look at me, and tell me what’s been troubling you.”

You stand closer, before his throne with awkwardly stiff posture. He awaits your answer patiently, calmly, giving you time to take several wet, wavering breaths of courage. “Do you see room for someone like me in your ideal world?” The question quivers with diffidence, those fingers of yours clawing restlessly into the hem of your worn sweater. “Someone… Someone as…” You struggle to find the word. “Unusable as me?”

He bites his lower lip. He has to, to stave off the cacophony of cackles knocking at the back of his teeth. “Unusable?” From an objective standpoint, you are wholly purposeless in his blueprint for the new world. A non sorcerer would only serve to poison the bloodline, it would never work. So he lies: “Please mind your tone. I don’t appreciate you speaking about my most faithful and devout subscriber like that.”

There is a moment of disbelief that glints happily in your somber, little eyes. The ghost of a smile echoes against your lips, weary, like you refuse to let yourself relish in feeling good. “Do you mean that?” There is a lilt of desperation lacing your words, like you need them to be true for your life’s sake. 

“I mean everything I say.” Oh, the irony. “Put your worries to rest, my dear. Your Master will always find a place for you.”

“I’m—uhm, may I bow now?” You sniffle and—here come the sweet tears, collecting in glassy beads, pulling down your lower lashes. “I’d like to bow, please.”

Still smiling, Geto shifts in his comfortable seat. The wooden zori sandals on his feet scrape against the traditional wooden floorboards as he widens his thighs graciously. A vacant space between his open legs that he points to; “kneel.”

There is a handful of seconds you spend hesitating, but you comply. You always do. 

“You’ve come to worship.”

“Yes.”

Your head blooms up towards him, as if Geto was the very sun. He studies, finding a deranged eroticism in the way your cheeks glisten under the warm, golden light of his room lamps. They’re sodden with tears of gratitude; gratitude towards him. Geto touches himself, a hand flattened against his own hulking thigh. Rubbing down towards his knee, then back up near his hip. A subtle gesture indicating the change in mood. 

“You know how I accept reverence.” That roaming palm of his dips down to swipe along the inside of his thigh. “Show me your glory and your love.”

Fatigue thrives in your movements. Slow as molasses, you shimmy your sweater up your torso, then over your head. Your undershirt comes off next, and his nods. “Bra too.” Your glory. Your love. You look pained, but strip nonetheless, discarding the underwear to the pile of clothes behind you. Geto makes a pleased grunt, subjecting your bare chest to his own minute of silent examination. He lets you stew in a pit of humility, glancing away while he strokes his sensitive spots to your frigid nudity. “You’re gorgeous.”

Embarrassed and short, “thank you, Master Geto.”

“There has never been a non sorcerer as beautiful.”

You wither, curling deeper in on yourself. With what? Discomfort? Or maybe chagrin, Geto muses. For such a useless bitch, you had a decently quick mind. He has no doubts that you sense the bullshit he hawks with all this sentimental beautiful garbage, as if he doesn’t sell every spineless broad that line. “Thank you, Master Geto.”

You know this, and still you donate. Still, you come back to service him. 

Thick robes bunch up around the circumference of his waist. Geto’s erection was prominent, even though the bagginess of his bontan pants. It’s a visible hard-on, stiff and poking out towards you. He massages his rod through his clothes, still watching you. The way you sit there and take it, let him beat off to your pitiful tears because this is how he’s trained his members to properly worship… “You must enjoy this,” he poses, breathy. 

“I… do.” Hesitance again. 

“Don’t you?” Geto presses, constricting the clothed head of his cock in a bruising grip. “This is a privilege. This is sacred.” He reaches for his pocket, nabs the tin package and fishes it out. A condom—he expected this from you today. Ever the greedy slut, or so he’d make you feel like you were despite your apprehension. “You should be grateful to receive my love.”

“You don’t love me…”

Truthful, he could never love something as insignificant as you. But he’d never say that aloud. “I love you,” Geto lies so easily it nearly scares himself. He loves you, he loves the troubled non sorcerer who came to him yesterday, he loves the one that came the day before that, and so forth. The man splits golden foil with his teeth, plucking out the condom and tucking the litter back into his pocket. “I love you,” Geto reiterates, reaching into his pants and pulling his hardness out over the waistband. “I love you,” he says one more time, while holding himself firm in one hand, rolling a sheath onto himself with the other. It’s purple latex, strangulating his shaft all the way down to his pulsing balls. The appendage hangs heavy between his legs, and you gawk at its every minute twitch. 

“You…” You flounder, stumbling over words. “Are we g-going to have…?”

“Have sex?” You nod, and Geto casts a scornful gaze upon you. “And disrespect the sanctity of my clerical celibacy? I should bleed you for thinking something so ridiculous.” Geto took an oath, a vow of abstinence and truth be told, he upholds that vow. Though, perhaps it’s his aversion to touching ordinary people that is the reason he’s made good on his sacred promise thus far. He can’t stomach the idea of flesh to non sorcerer flesh. 

“I’m sorry. I just assumed, w-with the protection.”

Geto takes his dick, pumping slowly. “You understand my caution. I don’t want our skin to meet, it’s unnatural.” Still masturbating himself, he huffs, “Tell me you understand.”

You nod absentmindedly, maybe even a little hurt, he thinks. “I understand.”

Geto smiles kindly, puffing out a cute chuckle. “Good.” He shakes his cock, wags it around in your face like he’s teasing a puppy with a piece of meat. “Go on, then. Idolize me with your mouth.”

He doesn’t moan—Geto never moans when he gets licked by useless bitches. It’s unexcitable, your perturbed kitten licks, nervously laving around the crown of his cock head like you’re afraid it’ll grow teeth and bite back. Brilliantly ordinary, and his jaw tenses in sexual irritation. 

“I said to idolize me.” 

“I’m trying!” And there you go, crying again. He throbs at the lowly mess of tears and snot and humiliation you wallow in, jaw shivering in quiet sob. “I’m trying, I promise!”

“Maybe you really are unusable…” He mutters as though he hasn’t already come to that conclusion thirty minutes prior. “Cannot even lick right.”

You plummet into a deeper bow, clammy forehead sticking to the filthy ground at his feet. It’s an abhorrent sight to see, and he watches with stone-face stoicism as you grovel. “I’m sorry!” Your shoulders stutter with each cry wracking your lungs, “I’m sorry, Master!”

He lets you spill tears, watching and waiting with his cheek perched against his balled fist. For fuck’s sake, he curses himself for overestimating your brittle psyche. Had that morose little visage you wore not been so devastatingly provocative, so worth salivating over, he’d have given you the boot already. Finally, Geto yields, nudging the back of your skull with the sole of his sandal. “Sit up.”

As always, even in your worst states of mental stress, you abide by his words. His law. Bare chest presented to him again, and Geto sighs, pleased. You really were a sexy thing, all squishy and damp and so very sick. The struggle will be worth it. “Good,” he praises loosely, “good.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again, voice reduced to a wet, little whisper. 

Geto is quick to shake his head. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“But I can’t make you…” 

“Make me cum?”

You fluster at his bluntness, but nod sheepishly. “Not today.” Your eyes, they scamper to your top, forsaken to the floor. He sees the way you long to grab your sweater. “I don’t think I can today.”

“Today is as good a day as any.” Geto will not accept your retreat. Not now, not when his crotch yearns for the warmth of an esophagus. That plastic smile never wavers; it sticks to Geto’s lips like tar, mouth corners sharp as shards of glass. He cinched the muscles at his waist, his groin, and made his dick jump. It bobs, up and down and up, and the man sighs. “Can’t you see how it aches for you?”

You bear a grimace, looking past the swelling thing to regard Geto with empathetic eye contact. “It… Does it hurt?” 

“So much, I can barely stand it.” And the way you show your guilt so transparently has Geto’s intestines whirring. Because you wouldn’t do anything to cause pain to your Master. So sweet of you, honest. Still, he siphons your half assed consent by challenging that unshakable compassion within you. “Do you want me to hurt?”

“No,” the answer is abrupt, eager. “No, never.”

So easy. “Then you must wish to remain useless to me.” Geto laughs dryly. “That must be it, isn’t it?”

Distress oozes in the way you lunge forward, a shaky hand quickly finding purchase around the girth of him, and he sighs one more. “No,” you protest again, “no, no I’m sorry. We can do this today.” Lips purse against his cockhead; Geto lets you press your stupid kisses to him, even if the stimulation is hardly good enough to consider it worthwhile. 

“Settle down,” he commands gently, showering you in his pitying stare. “Do you need some help?”

“Yes, please, Master Geto.”

“Okay,” he softens to you. You’ll need every ounce of softness he decides to grant. He can feel that numbing chill torment his spine; despite the layers, Geto shivers with the weight of the chill. It’s a customary routine that has been written into his genetic code—to summon a curse was as easy as breathing. It’s an ugly thing, dispelling into the air, levitating above your crown like a fucked up halo. Vivid hues of sickly greens and oceanic blues meshed together in an amorphous, amalgamated fish-like curse. It blinks at him with one large, bloodshot eye, begging to be manipulated. 

“Take a deep breath, and put me in your mouth.”

The trust you’ve invested into Geto must be researched. You complete his every whim, inhaling a gulp of oxygen before ducking down to take his thick head. It sits in your mouth, against the plate of your twitchy tongue, bracing for something to happen. Geto has you right where he needs you.

The curse sinks through the atmosphere, plummets down to latch onto the nape of your delicate neck. You don’t miss its noticeable weight, and your eyes widen comically as your skull begins the slow descent down his shaft. He feels the tip of himself prod the webby back of your mouth; you feel it as well, lurching upwards with a strangled gag. 

He doesn’t feel sympathy. He doesn’t feel much of anything towards you besides twisted lechery, seeking rapture in every excruciating retch you shed on the impalement. It sickens him—when had he begun to seek release over women’s tears like this? At what point in his miserable existence did sex become a syrupy conduit to sadism? 

“Do not vomit on me.”

Nails bleed into the meat of his shins. You clutch at them, scratching for mercy through a layer of cotton. Another disgusting gag vibrates his dick when your chin meets his balls. He breathes ragged, uneven breaths, watching with parted lips as his cursed spirit forces your nose into the wiry tuft of his pubic bush. 

Visceral revulsion stickies Geto’s mouth. Your skin, your drool, it touches him. Rivulets of saliva and tears and sweat collect in the pit of his groin. “My love is in your throat.” The mess is hard to overlook, but Goddamn it, he can’t focus on anything past his own pleasure. A malevolent smirk is what Geto wears as he hunches forward. Chest heaving from over your head. “You’re turning blue.”

He giggles in excitement like a school boy, fixating on your struggle. Poor nostrils flared, and the frenzied inhaling tickles his sopping pubic bone. The claws in his legs grew weaker, your pupils rolling backwards and—oh no.

“Hey.” He lifts his hips, a quick and sharp thrust that knocks the consciousness back into your stupid brain. You choke violently, windpipe seizing so fucking nicely around him. “Hey. Wake up.”

Unintelligent babble fizzles out of you, and along with that, more globs of soapy spit. You’ve been shoved down for so deep, for so long, that Geto could actually get charged with battery assault. Or perhaps animal cruelty is more fitting for such a situation. As much as having your neck bulge like this really, really turns him on, Geto also needs you alive. Needs your income, your impressive donations. 

 “I’m ready to finish.” You must be so relieved, because you burst into tearful nods. “Let me have my way with you for a minute longer. That’s all I need.”

The cockwarming was a good preemptive to get the juices building, but Geto needs more to grab onto that climax. He needs more noises, and more struggling. He needs that repetitive back-and-forth of plunging a hole, the primal motion of pumping and pumping and pumping until he explodes. Leaning back and getting comfortable, Geto hoists his bulky thighs up and slides them onto the shelves of your bare shoulders. The angle is orgasmic like this, perfect trajectory to carve into the innermost core of your throat. Geto digs the heels of his stiff shoes into your upper back, and now, he points two lazy fingers towards the curse. A signal.

It grips your head, slimy body leeching between hair follicles, sucking onto your scalp. No warning permitted, the thing begins to oscillate in sporadic up-and-down movement. “Yes,” he cracks, infatuated by such a flawless display of submission. Your head gets bounced in his lap, mouth teeming with man and just giving in. Every single jolt and gasp and gag and sob and sniffle makes him preen, ass lifting to meet your vigorous throat with rough humps. “Fuck. I’m…”

It was a hasty in-the-moment decision when Geto exploits his curse, using it as a vestige for his impatient hands. The fish rips you from his cock, and you scramble to take in a glutinous gasp of spit-soaked fresh air. He’s on the edge, toeing the line of his orgasm, and in his lust, he kicks you back to the floor with his foot to your chestplate. Drained and malleable, dumb from his meat, you fall. Tits bouncing sluttily on your strident impact, and Geto wants to spank them ‘till they bruise. 

He’s already doused in you. Your saliva coats him like a second layer of skin, soaking his pubes so grotesquely that he feels compelled to reciprocate. His knees slam down hard enough to creak the floorboards, bracketing your head as it lolls back limply. “You impressed me,” Geto murmurs, swallowing his repulsion to wade his fingers through your DNA as he strips that futile tube of latex from his erection. He splats it lusciously against your forehead where it lays almost as useless as you. “I’d be a fool to question your loyalties after that display."

“Ngh…” It’s a small chirp, a barely-there sign that you’re still alive. He coos, sitting upright to kneel above your fucked-out skull.

“I thought I was going to dislocate your jaw,” Geto laughs breathlessly. You don’t return his laughter. He masturbates himself, one hand stroking your spit down his length in rough tugs, the other resting below to palm his sack. “I’m sorry.”

You don’t reply. Hell, you barely move. That’s alright, Geto enjoys this visual all the same. He’s fucking his fist, choking out stuttered breaths, aiming himself inches away from your wet face. “I accept your reverence,” he pants, “this is your purpose. This is what you m-mean to me.”

Your purpose in his new world is no greater than a Kleenex. A rag for him to spend his seed on and then toss behind the bed. He cums with an obscene groan, thumb pushing down on his throbbing tip to funnel gooey semen into the sliver of openness between your dry lips. Geto’s jaw hangs for the entirety of his orgasm, massaging out every last drop of his essence to feed you. It spurts, some whipping out over your cheek, down your chin, into your nostril. You whine in exhaustion, not even trying to combat the cock spraying your face. He bites his lip. 

“This is what you wanted, right?”

“...”

He shakes himself off, harvesting one last drip of cum that splashes against your upper lip, before tucking his ruined, slimy prick back into his pants. The urge to bathe bored into him; he was never a fan of that sticky post-sex grime, especially not a non sorcerer’s grime. “Well, this is what I wanted.” Geto stands in a smooth motion, despite his trembling thighs protesting. He cringes at the way his dick sticks to the fabric of his briefs. 

“A-Are you l-leaving?” You ask, still lying unmoving in a puddle of fluids, shivering against the cold wood. Your words come out croaky and soft, and Geto suspects he might’ve bruised your voice box.

“I am.” You flinch at his shortness. “You should clean yourself up.”

And then he leaves, sliding the door to his room shut. Geto could’ve stayed. He could’ve found a towel somewhere around the estate, he could’ve held you in his lap and stroked your hair and wiped away the remnants of his orgasm from your ruddy cheeks. But why would he waste his time? None of that bullshit will change the fact that, aftercare or not, you’ll still come to him at the same time next week for your holy retribution.

You’re addicted to receiving his love, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[yanderefarm]

Emil and Nephite me underrated loves

How do you think they’d both react to like extreme dirty talk outside of the bedroom? Like whispering filthy things into their ears when they’re supposed to be doing something (ie, Emil attending to kingly duties and Nephite helping at the church)

Also can I be 🐙 anon?

cw;; public sex, dirty talk, religion, omegaverse

this is so funny I've talked to you several times already now but i hadn't done this request yet. the same is true for mousey.

"you look so good tonight."

you allow emil to lead your body through the dance, your attention far more focused on the way his cravat made his chest pop. he can clearly tell you're distracted but he just smirks instead of commenting on your lingering eye.

"i appreciate that. you look exquisite yourself."

he turns you both as the other couples do so, the dance is light and relatively easy. your hand takes the opportunity to grip his muscles firmly, earning a choked breath from your husband.

"oh oops. is that where i grabbed you last night?"

his smile widened devilishly, a smile that made normal people tremble.

"yes, i believe so."

"what were we doing again..."

you heard his breath hitch.

"riiiight~" you squeezed the bruise again. "i was fucking you stupid."

"... dear."

he says it like a warning but you know it's empty.

"you looked so pretty and slutty with drool and cum dripping down your stupid face."

"(y/n)."

"your outfit would look even better stained in my cum too wouldn't it?"

his ears were burning and his golden hair fell further into his eyes like it was naturally trying to hide his embarrassment.

"can't wait til this stupid party is over... you're gonna gag on my cock like you love."

"please."

his dancing slowed as it became harder to move.

"please?"

".... i need you."

"we're at a party."

"i don't care."

you smiled and leaned your head against his chest. "I'll be nice and fuck your face after this dance. dirty slut."

that song seemed to last forever.

———

god, this cult event is so boring. nephite, your beautiful wife, is completely enraptured by the elder's words. and of course he had to pick the seats at the front so you had no hope of sneaking out. you let out another sigh, the third in as many minutes, before laying your head on your wife's shoulder.

"honey... I'm trying to pay attention."

he whispered like a scolding parent. you leaned your head the other way a pout on your lips. you heard the elder say something like "you need to let him come inside."

"that's what she said." you whispered to your wife with a little smile.

"what she said?? honey, im trying to listen."

he brushed you off again but instead of getting dejected you decided to tease him. make him regret picking the front row seats.

"y'know... like she wants him to cum inside~"

you watched your wife's cheeks burn a bright pink but he folded his lips pressing them tight against his teeth. oh he was gonna try to ignore you.

"y'know like last night... you begged for me to cum inside~"

your hand traveled from behind his back to brush across his thigh. you could see him jump his blush spreading further.

"you like it when he cums inside huh? filthy boy~"

"stop-"

he squeaked loud enough to draw some eyes to you two but you quickly pulled away from him and acted like you weren't even near him. luckily the deaf old man on the stage didn't notice. once the eyes wandered back to being bored you closed in around your wife again.

"don't be noisy... you want them to know you're being a perv in this sacred place?"

"y-you-! you're-you're the one being a p-perv!"

people looked at him again this time you pulled him closer to your chest and gave them a look to say you were sorry he was being noisy.

"c'mon, honey. be quiet or i won't cum inside when we're done."

you watched the dichotomy between his face looking at you incredulously and his thighs rubbing together.

"we could leave early... we could go to the bathroom. wanna sit here with my cum trailing down your thighs? your neck all marked and messy... your poor c-"

"please. please. (y/n), please."

you could see tears forming in his eyes as his face was completely red.

"please what?"

"wanna go home."

you smiled, proud of yourself.

[frehyun]

Cursed Eyes

Part 2

medusa!hyunjin x afab!blind!reader

warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, petrification, possessive hyunjin, some violence

genre: some angst, fluff, smut

word count: 2.9k

author's note: well, lots of people really loved the first part for some reason, so I hope this is a satisfactory continuation! i had some brainrot about Medusa Hyune and had to write it out! also. I'm extremely nervous about posting this, my very first written smut, I'm sorry if it sucks </3 i appreciate any feedback, so let me know what you think! happy reading! (not really edited at all, again)

masterlist | Part 1

divider by @kawaii-lau

Being together with Hyunjin like this was truly something out of a dream. He took good care of you, sharing the food that was offered to him with you as well as the broken temple that he called his home.

Every day, Hyunjin would think of something new to show you around his home, be it his extravagant garden that housed small patches of earth where vegetables and fruits grew and an abundance of flowers amongst the statues or a nearby river where the two of you relaxed against the stones as you held each other lovingly.

Whenever you leaned close enough to him, the snakes that made up his hair snuggled close to you, resting their head against your shoulder or rubbing their scaly skin against your cheek. You soon found out, the snakes demanded your time as much as Hyunjin did himself, sometimes being silently scolded by him for being to overeager in their affections towards you.

However, you always giggled at the prospect of the man fighting against his own snakes to see who would win more of your attention. Most often than not Hyunjin won, but you think it’s kind of unfair, since he was the one parading the body they were attached to around, sometimes taking their side for fun just to have him dramatically sulk and complain, before planting a soft kiss against his jaw that would make him perk right back up immediately.

Hyunjin made sure to familiarise you with the layout of his temple, showing you where everything was so you could eventually navigate through the halls without his help, if that was ever needed. You reminded him to leave important things in the same places, so you could find them on your own and while he complied, you think he sometimes moves them to other places, just so you would need him.

You also learned that Hyunjin loved to feel needed, necessary. Whenever you asked something of him, even if it was something small, he seemed happier, reveling in the fact that he had a small task to fulfill for someone he cared about, his snakes flicking their tongues excitedly.

You really wished that every day could be spent happy like this, with no worry in the world, just you and him breathing each other’s scent in and falling deeper into a forbidden love. But wishes like that rarely become true.

One particularly stormy night, you reached over to Hyunjin’s side of the bed to pull him closer to you but found it entirely empty. You huffed and decided to wait for him to return but as the minutes passed and he still hadn’t returned, you grew increasingly restless and worried about your lover.

The storm outside raged on, trees whipping their branches, the wind howling loudly as you tiptoed your way through the cold temple, bracing one hand against the cool stone to not lose your orientation.

“Hyunjin?” – you called out, hoping he would make any kind of noise so you had an easier time finding him but to no avail. The only sounds you could hear were of the storm.

You had already checked your little makeshift kitchen and the altar room the two of you made into something of a living room but he was nowhere to be found.

Sighing, you pursued the last possible area where he could have fled to.

His garden.

As you reached the doorframe that led outside, you tried your chances again and called out his name over the sound of the storm.

You were relieved when you did hear him rustling about outside but what you didn’t expect was his broken voice answering, “please go back inside.”

You immediately knew something was wrong. He had never sounded like this before. An uncomfortable feeling settled in your chest as you shuffled another step outside.

“Are you okay, Jinnie?” – you hoped the softness in your tone was conveyed over the loud rain pouring down.

“I’m okay. You’re gonna get sick, please go back to sleep, my flower” – his voice sounded a bit more steady now but you were still unconvinced, resolutely stepping completely outside into the rain and towards his voice.

You quickly found him as you accidentally walked right into his side, not expecting him to be sitting on the cold and wet ground.

Your hands found his shoulders as you bent down to his level, but he stayed silent and didn’t seem to want to move even a bit to accommodate you. Yet the snakes nestled against his head were hissing in clear distress, writhing about against your hands, dragging their scaled bodies roughly over your skin.

Besides the uncomfortable feeling inside your chest, a new frustration bubbled up, cursing yourself for being born blind. You wished you could see him, wished you could tell what was going on with him with only a look into his face. Was he crying? Was he hurt? Why wouldn’t he talk to you, like he always does?

Blinking your momentary anger at yourself away, your hands glided to cup his face as your body moved in front of him. You guided his forehead against yours, closing your eyes and inhaling his scent in.

“Please tell me what’s wrong, my love, you’re worrying me” – you whispered against him.

Not being able to hold it in any longer, you were met with a heart-wrenching sob breaking free from his lips, shattering your heart. Frowning, you pulled him against your chest, cradling his head in your arms and rubbing soothing circles on his scalp and back as his body was wrecked with sobs. His snakes settled against your neck hurriedly, seeking their own comfort in your warmth and touch.

His hands found their way to the back of your tunic, holding onto the fabric like you were going to disappear if he were to let go for just a moment. His face contorted in pain as he cried into your chest for something you were still unsure about.

The two of you sat in the rain like this for what felt like hours. Hyunjin’s wails and whimpers bringing forth tears of your own as you held him.

His sobs died down momentarily as he sniffed, taking in a shaky breath as if there was still something weighing down on his chest, keeping him down and broken.

Hyunjin’s body left yours, his hands staying on your thighs as you were kneeling in front of him. He spoke, quiet and unsure, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, my love”, his fingers slightly digging into the flesh of your legs.

You didn’t know what he was apologising for and yet you had already forgiven him in your heart, not wanting for him to have any reason to cry anymore.

“They were trying to take you away from me… There was no other way”, he said with a hoarse voice, “I won’t let them take you.”

The uncomfortable feeling in your chest pressed on your ribcage, threatening to take your breath away if you let it linger for longer. The meaning of his words weighed down on your mind, alarm bells ringing, not because of the fear of them taking you but because you feared Hyunjin having to confront any of the warriors from your village again. Worried, your brows furrowed as you took his face into your hands, letting your thumbs glide over the soft skin of his cheeks.

“Are you hurt?”, came your voice, steady, focused on healing the cracks in his heart, on his body until he was whole again, emanating a happiness as warm as the afternoon sun.

Hyunjin was quiet for a while. What you didn’t see was his eyes widening at your words, unbelieving of the prospect of you being worried about him over everything else. He wanted to cry again. For entirely different reasons.

“I-“

“Please tell me where it hurts, Jinnie.”

“They nicked my side…but otherwise, I am just happy I still have you”, he sniffed.

You nodded softly at him, moving to slowly get up with him and out of the cold rain, willing to ignore the implications of Hyunjin protecting you. Killing for you.

The storm eventually quieted down as you meticulously took care of his wounds with his guidance, your hands stained with his blood when you were finished. You were aware of the lingering wetness on your hands, moving to wash it off at the nearby basin.

Hyunjin watched you curiously, eyes honed in on your smaller hands. He was glad it was his blood and nobody else’s. Not your own, not from any of the villagers. Just his. His blood could be spilled countless times over, staining the soil beneath him if it meant you were safe and healthy. He had never before disregarded his own safety and health this much until you stumbled into his life. Because what if he lost you? What did he have left? A garden full of statues and flowers that were meaningless if it meant you were buried beneath them.

His heart constricted uncomfortably in his chest at the thought, strengthening his possessive resolve to keep you close to him.

The next morning you woke up next to him, comforted by the warm presence beside you, legs entangled with his, your head resting on his chest listening to his steady heartbeat as your hand was splayed out across the other side of him, inhaling his scent. Your mind calmed at having him this close, feeling his touch, hearing his heart beating softly in his chest, as the feelings of last night’s aftermath still lingered in your tired limbs.

You remembered it took quite a while for your lover to fall asleep after everything had calmed down. While he was laying still, you knew he was still awake, lost in his head about what had transpired, so you whispered soft affirmations into his neck and kissed the skin that you could reach. The grip on your waist was firm before it eventually relaxed as he drifted off into slumber, taking you with him as your lips slowed their descent on his flesh.

Now in the morning the world didn’t seem so harsh and cold anymore, the soft rays of sunshine making their way through the window of your bedroom inside the temple. Even though your mind lingered on the question of whether you would find another statue guarding your garden, you were content in the arms of your loved one. Because what if you lost him? What did you have left? Your hometown too hurtful a place to return to if they so willingly made you act as a test subject, willing to kill the man that you loved without ever considering to hear him out and see him for the gentle soul that he is. There is nothing to return to, the temple meaningless if it meant you wouldn’t hear his giggles echoing through the halls anymore as you mapped his face with your fingers, memorising each dimple, the dip of his nose and the plush lips that you adored kissing whenever you were close enough to him.

A heavy sigh left your lips, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest as he slumbered beside you. You don’t think there were any possible futures where the two of you wouldn’t want to live with one another, having found true solace in this surprising love. A small smile found its way onto your lips as you pressed them gently onto his ribcage, still careful not to wake him.

After waking up and eating breakfast together in the morning sun, Hyunjin made sure that the newest addition to his garden was placed somewhere out of the way, not wanting you to bump into a new obstacle in the garden. He struggled to find a fitting place, nibbling on his nails out of nervousness.

This man hadn’t deserved a warm and protected place like the others in his garden. He was full of rage, spouting insults and vile things to him and about you, speaking about you like you were merely an object that was in the possession of the village. There was nothing but hate inside his eyes before eventually turning to stone, sealing that hatred inside a protective cocoon alongside the man it belonged to.

Hyunjin hummed, thinking that he could just drag him somewhere outside the temple, making use of him as some sort of scarecrow and hopefully keep away more attackers.

At the sight of the petrified man, his snakes began to hiss and squirm, remembering the night before. He softly patted his own head before rolling up the sleeves of his robe and taking ahold of the statue.

It was too beautiful a day to be reminded of the horrible things that were committed the previous night, birds chirping, the sun shining down comfortably and a light breeze flowing through the temple.

Once Hyunjin found a satisfactory spot, he trudged back to his home where you awaited him. Hearing his steps approach the temple, you scrambled to get to the entrance, grinning at his return.

“You’re smiling so much today, my love, did you sleep really well or did something happen?” -  he giggled at you throwing your arms around his shoulders when he was close enough to you.

“Just glad to have you”, you said, “last night scared me, which makes me appreciate moments like these even more.”

“I apologise for that, I would never want you to worry” – he grabbed you and lifted you up into his arms, your legs locking securely around his waist, letting him carry you wherever he wanted.

“I love you.”

“I love you, Hyunjin” – you grabbed his face and brought your lips together, melting into the kiss.

Kissing him still felt as magical as the first time, your lips locking together as if they were made for each other. He tasted sweet, reminiscent of the fruits you had this morning, as his tongue made its way into your mouth.

Your kiss soon turned from soft to hungry as soon as Hyunjin crossed the doorframe to your shared bedroom, the air around you shifting to something hotter and heavier, desperate to have each other after the scare of loss last night.

His lips attached to your neck in wet kisses and bites, his sharp canines dragging deliciously across your skin, never truly hurting you but sending down jolts of pleasure between your legs, as you tangled your hands in his soft locks, keeping him close to you.

“You are so beautiful” – he said against you as his hands slid down your body and under your tunic.

“I wish you could see yourself with my eyes only once and understand why I am so obsessed with you” – a particularly hard bite to your shoulder made you whine and buck your hips against his hand, desperate to get him to touch you where you really want him to.

“Please don’t make me wait any more, Jinnie” – you moaned, your own hand trailing down to the front of his delicate robe, grabbing at him through the fabric and earning a groan from him.

Impatient himself, he rid himself of his clothing, his already leaky length springing free. He slid your robe up your thighs, revealing you to him as he moved to grip your thighs and position himself between your legs.

“Nobody will ever take you from me, Y/N. You’re mine” – you whined at the feeling of him finally sinking his cock into you, your nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders.

Hyunjin let out a deep groan as he let you adjust to the stretch before pulling his hips back and fucking back into you.

You pulled him down to you to pepper desperate, sloppy kisses against his jaw, his snakes coming down to meet you halfway, butting their heads against you, desperate to get attention of their own amidst all the pleasure. Your hand fans out to caress them as well, stroking lovingly across their scaled bodies which spurned Hyunjin on even more, a strained moan coming from him. You know the two of you won’t last long when every movement is laced with desperation, chasing each other’s high to prove your love to one another.

“You won’t ever lose me, Jinnie” – you whimpered against him and that seems to do it for him, his thrusts growing faster and harder and his own whines getting louder.

It’s not long until you came undone beneath him, clenching around his length as he chases his own orgasm.

Hyunjin’s hips rutted erratically into you before letting out a loud whimper, cock twitching and filling you up. He rides out his high and you smile lazily up at him, bliss overtaking your mind, your hands running soothingly across his back.

“I love you” – you said once more as he slipped out of you and cleaned you both up.

“And I love you, my love” – he kissed you sweetly, cupping your face in his larger hands gently before leaning back to let you crawl into his loving arms.

You nuzzled your face into his chest as he lay beside you, arms around his waist and holding him close to your body.

Unbeknownst to you, an attempt at his life was thwarted by a statue that stood lonely and isolated nearby the temple, warning any of those approaching of what awaited them behind it, preserving the peace of your little sanctuary.

[lou-struck]

Cancellation Comfort Part 3

Obey Me! Datables (minus Luke x MC!)

Featuring: Simeon, Solomon, Diavolo, and Barbatos

Part 1 HERE

Part 2 HERE

One of the things I hate the most in this world is when the same person repeatedly makes plans with me and then flakes on me the day of. One of my primary Love Languages is Quality time, so it really stings to get all ready and excited to go somewhere only to get a call an hour later than they said they were gonna pick me up to bail on the plans. 

This is how the Obey Me Boys would treat you after you were flaked on. 

Simeon

One of Simeon's favorite things in the Devildom is the wide variety of groceries he can find in the aisles of the various supermarkets. 

Having the evening to himself, the Angel would like nothing more than to spend the evening trying something new and delicious for dinner and getting to work on the latest novel in his series.

At first, he thought he would be content in his loneliness until he ran into you, and his heart skips a beat. Your bright smile beckons him to you, and he can't help but ask what you are up to. 

If you were free, he would gladly abandon his original plans to spend time with you.

You show him your basket and eagerly explain that you are getting some snacks for a movie night with a new friend of yours. Apparently, they have a report on human world cinema soon and wanted to pick your brain, so instead of just telling them about certain movies, you spent the afternoon selecting some of your favorites. 

Although he would want nothing more than to occupy your time for the evening, he is delighted to see you looking so excited.

Your DDD starts to ring and Simeon kindly takes your basket of groceries so you can finish through your many pockets trying to find the device. When you finally do raise the device to your ear, Simeon picks up on the static conversation. 

Your 'friend' on the other line coughs weakly through the speaker and says they are not feeling well and they just don't have the time to watch any movies with you. But they would really appreciate it if you could text them the details of the movie so they don't have to do the report. 

Ouch!

Simeon's gut tells him that this demon had been planning on flaking on you since the beginning, and his heart tells him that you are absolutely crushed by this revelation. You wish your classmate well and say kindly that you hope they feel better soon, but he can tell you are absolutely crushed. 

You look down at the basket of snacks, still sitting prettily in Simeon's hand, and reach for it, saying that you will just put them back since you won't be needing them, but the Angel moves it just beyond your reach. 

His smile is all kindness and love as he meets your gaze. "You know, Mc, I haven't had many opportunities to watch movies from the human world. Would you consider watching one with me?"

"You wouldn't mind?" you say; hope shines brilliantly in your gaze as you look at your guardian angel whose smile only grows. 

"Not at all; spending time with you is a blessing. I would be a fool to throw away something so precious. 

Solomon

When Solomon heard that you, his adorable apprentice, were going on a weekend camping trip with some classmates, he was up all hours of the night thinking of things you may need for the trip.

After carefully going over a few (dozen) maps of the area, he learned that there is quite a bothersome population of devil mosquitos that would love to bite something as precious as you, and he immediately got to work brewing you up several bug repellant potions and crafting an enchanted lantern designed to kill any pesky bloodsuckers that get close to you. 

Unfortunately for him, the sorcerer tends to lose track of time in his workshop. And by the time his tired eyes glance at the clock, he realizes that you are to leave the House of Lamination in less than a half an hour. 

He tears through his laboratory like a madman, shoving all of your gifts into his bag before running out the door. The cold morning air and his adrenaline waking him better than any cold brew he's ever chugged.

His hair is a mess, and his cape is inside out, but he made it. 

The flames of his triumph are quickly smothered when he comes across you sitting on the cold, stone steps of the House. Your camping bag at your side as you frown into your DDD. 

"MC, I'm glad I got to see you; I made you a few things for your trip to keep the mosquitoes off of you." He holds out the potions and lantern, and you regard them with interest. 

"Thank you for going out of your way, Sol, but I won't be going on the trip," you say, disappointment written all over your face. 

He looks to you for a bit more context, and you explain that your classmates decided that they didn't want a human slowing them down on the hikes and stuff like that, so you were uninvited at the last moment. 

Solomon clenches his fist tightly as he tries to understand how some demons are able to function without their brains. "I'm sorry you have been treated so poorly, MC, but if anything, they would only slow you down. Perhaps you and I could go camping together sometime instead."

"That would be nice," you humm, resting your head on his shoulder; his arm wraps around you as he raises his other hand to the sky. Green tendrils of magic dance around his fingertips. But you are too preoccupied with his embrace to notice. 

It's for the best,' he thinks to himself. After all, he knows you would not approve if you learned about the itching curse the sorcerer had just cast on your classmates' sleeping bags. 

Barbatos

The royal garden party is only weeks away, and Barbato's shopping finds himself searching antique shops for the perfect centerpiece for the dessert table. 

He steps out of another shop empty-handed, but his sour mood is quickly rectified when he sees someone walking across the street with two large shopping bags in their hands.

Although he has a job to do, he can't just walk away without at least saying hello to his dear human. 

As he approaches, he catches your eye and you give him a big smile. "Barbatos, it's good to run into you, I haven't gotten to see you at all lately."

"My apologies; I truly have not been giving you as much attention as you deserve. Once the garden party is over I promise I shall make it up to you every way I know how." He says, lowering his voice. With you so close, he sees the contents of your shopping bags full of baking ingredients.

Noticing his observant nature, you explain that you and your friend are going to bake treats together today.

As if fate wanted to toy with you in that very moment, you receive a message and whatever joy you were feeling was extinguished.

"Is something the matter?" He asks gently. In response, you showed him the text message you had just received.

They canceled on you. 

And not for any particular reason; the demon you were supposed to spend your valuable time with tells you rather bluntly that baking doesn't sound like fun, and they would rather do something that doesn't sound like a chore.

Barbatos is rightfully appalled at this rude behavior and scoffs at their narrowmindedness. You look down at your bags and frown, "I guess I'll need to return these.

His hands shake with his poorly concealed rage as he gently takes the bags from your hands. "Nonsense, it would be a shame for you to ruin your afternoon due to the actions of someone unworthy of your attention. Perhaps we can bake together?"

You eagerly accept his offer, but shyness and concern lace your voice as you ask him if he really has time to stop what he is doing.

He just smiles and tells you that there is nothing in this moment that requires more attention than you. In the back of his mind, however, he wonders if the demon who cancels on you needs a reminder that there are things way worse than baking. Perhaps they will miraculously get assigned cleaning duty in the RAD sewers for the next event.

Diavolo

He heard through Lucifer that you were really excited to go with friends to a new exhibit at the devildom historical society, and The Prince was absolutely over the moon.

This is exactly what he envisioned when he thought up the exchange program. Humans and demons get along and learn about the past together to create a stronger future.

In his excitement, he worked through his mountain of paperwork so he could slip away and observe the interaction from afar using the best disguise at his disposal.

Just as he was about to climb down the rose trellis, Diavolo receives a message from Lucifer that has his fake mustache falling to the ground in shock. 

Your new friends had just canceled on you, and the Avatar of Pride suspects that it may not have been on the kindest terms.

Rightfully, Diavolo is furious on your behalf. Although he is unfamiliar with the concept of getting canceled on personally he understands that it is a slight.

The idea of you, his beloved human, being treated so horribly causes his blood to boil, and he feels his horns emerging from his head.

His first instinct was to have the insulting demons imprisoned for their behavior, but Barbatos politely reminded him that he cannot simply arrest everyone who commits a social slight, so his mind went to the next, much better option.

He must comfort you,

No one can stop him as he poofs off to the HOL to find you sprawled across your bed, listening to sad music in the dark. His heart breaks at the sight of you looking so down, and he gets to his knees, ready to apologize on behalf of the devildom for your mistreatment. 

Once you get over the fact he just magically appeared in your room, you assure him that you are fine and you wouldn't hold the cancellation against anyone, but you may not want to see those demons for a while. 

Relief hits the royal like a ton of bricks, but he still wants to cheer you up. Especially since you and him have uninterrupted time to spend together. Even since you came into his life, the Prince has been researching as much as he can about humans, and he knows exactly what to do when they are feeling sad.

"Oh my, Mc, I seem to have developed a craving for something sweet. Would you care to join me for ice cream?" He is a terrible liar, but seeing him try to cheer you up makes your heart feel full as you lightly laugh and join him for an impromptu ice cream date.

Tagging: @pixelcafe-network

[demusewriter]

I Loved You Too Early

Summary: You've been admiring the captain of the prominent football team in your school, whom you secretly admiring from afar. You thought he was out of your reach until you saw him studying in your brother's room. Genre: brother's best friend, slow-burn Pairing: Non-idol! Jungwon x Fem! Reader Word count: Part II: 14,297 (Overall: 26,179k) Chapters: 10 (Completed) (divided in two parts) Warnings: This is heavily inspired by the Chinese drama 'Hidden Love' so, there's a big resemblance, age gap (5 years difference), unrequited love, a little bit of sprinkle of angst, fluff, time skip, just a teeny-weeny bit of fist fighting (but not too much!), and not solid proof-read because its too long (╥﹏╥). Author's Note: Thank you for patiently reading my story! I’m glad you’re still with me through the second part, despite how long it’s gotten (≧∇≦). I really appreciate you taking the time to enjoy my work. I hope you enjoyed it! (´▽`ʃƪ)♡

Please don’t forget to support ENHYPEN and the members in their projects as well. Let's show them the love and appreciation we have on their crafts. ( ˊᵕˋ )♡.°⑅

Enjoy, and maybe I'll see you again next year? (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵) Haha!

PART I PART II

Chapter Six

Amidst the chatter of the crowd and the rhythmic pulse of music drifting from nearby venues, you find yourself enveloped in the energy of the night.

Tonight feels different, a subtle shift in the air that whispers of newfound freedom and possibilities.

For the first time, you find yourself standing amidst the crowded club, a cocktail in hands, embracing the intoxicating energy of the night as you celebrate along with your friends the milestone of entering your senior year of college.

As you glance around taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling club scene, you can't help but wonder how much has changed.

Ever since your move to the other city after getting accepted to your dream University, you started to learn to become independent which slowly shaped you into adulthood with each passing day.

As you watch your friends lose themselves in the rhythm of the music, you can't help but realize how time flies so fast.

It seems like yesterday you were a freshman, and now, you're already in your final year of college.

You shook your head with a soft smile as you put down your drink.

You look at your friends one last time before you sneak your way outside of the club to get some fresh air.

Stepping outside, you were greeted by the breathtaking sight of the city skyline glowing with lights, a mesmerizing contrast to the dimly lit interior of the club.

Leaning against the railing, you let out a deep breath, allowing the cool night air to soothe your senses. You lean your head down on your arms, which rest on the railing, and drown yourself in admiring the city lights.

The mesmerizing glow of the city lights illuminates another pair of eyes, making it look like there's a stars twinkle in their eyes.

With his arms leaning over the railing, he gently swirls the glass of champagne in his hands before bringing it to his lips for a sip.

Jungwon can't help but nod to the taste of champagne which leaves a refreshing sensation that lingers on his tongue.

He was supposed to be inside of the club enjoying the celebration of his friend's promotion but the noise was too much for him that he found the balcony as his temporary refuge from the chaos inside.

As his eyes went back to the city skyline, his head were once again flooded with loneliness.

It's been five years since he decided to move to another city to pursue his dreams, and despite achieving them and even reaching more than he expected, there is still a nagging emptiness in his soul that casts a shadow over his triumphs.

The success he had worked so hard for felt hallow, leaving him questioning whether the sacrifices he had made truly worth it or if he had taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way.

It feels like something is missing that leaves a huge void inside of him.

As Jungwon's gaze wandered into the big city skyline that screamed mockery at his loneliness, his eyes traced the twinkling lights of the cityscape until they fell upon a figure standing five meters beside him.

Jungwon's felt his heart pound so hard for the first time as he watched her looking at the same city skyline with her head cradled in her arms in the railing with a same gentle smile that he used to adore in the past.

He can't believe that after so many years, he was now able to see some familiar face back in his hometown.

"Y/n?"

A familiar voice broke through your reverie, calling out your name with a hint of disbelief.

Startled, you glance at your side, searching for the source of the voice that had called out to you.

Your gaze settled on the figure meters away, and as you squinted to get a better look, a subtle beat stirred inside your chest.

As recognition dawned on you, your heart finally quickened its pace, its rhythm echoing a familiar tune that you haven't felt for five long years.

With each beat, the sensation grew stronger, enveloping you in a wave of nostalgia.

It was a rhythm so deeply ingrained, so unmistakably familiar, that despite the passage of time, you felt it once again, coursing through your veins like a rediscovered melody from the past.

After all those years, he is the only one that continues to stir your heart with this much intensity.

Standing beneath the glow of the city lights, he exuded an aura of masculinity that seemed to draw everyone's eyes effortlessly.

His once-boyish features had transformed into a striking display of manliness, with a jawline so sharp it could cut through the night air with ease

The black polo that he was wearing perfectly hugged his broad shoulders, accentuating every muscle beneath.

At that moment, it was as if time stood still, the world around you fading into the background as you found yourself captivated with disbelief.

"Jungwon?"

The simple sound of his name on your lips sends a rush of warmth flooding through him, igniting a smile that stretches across Jungwon's face in disbelief.

It's new that you didn't call him with the honorifics that you used to call him before yet it was the least of his problem—it's the fact that it's you, someone he hasn't seen in what feels like an eternity, who has spoken it.

"Yeah. It's me, Y/n," he softly said "It's been a long time"

His eyes sparkle with joy as he responds, and you can't help but feel a pang in your heart at the sight.

How is it that after purposely ghosting him for years, he still finds happiness in seeing you?

"Yeah, it is," you murmur, averting your eyes as guilt slowly consumes your soul. "How are you?"

"Everything's fine," Jungwon leans on the railing looking at the cityscape with a faint smile "although a little bit lonely for being away in home"

You nodded, clasping your hands behind your back. You anxiously chewed on the inside of your cheek, feeling the weight of awkward silence settling the atmosphere.

Your conflicted thoughts race through your mind on what to say next, wondering if you should apologize or stay silent.

As if Jungwon could read your mind, he broke through your reverie.

"You don't have to worry about anything, Y/n," his eyes find yours again, this time with more gentleness on it, making your heart beat a little faster. "I understand, you might have your own reason"

Despite the course of time, Jungwon remained unchanged. He was still the same person you remembered—understanding, reassuring, and everything you had once fallen in love with.

"Although, you owe me a dinner for all the lost time we haven't seen each other," he teasingly says with a mischievous glint in his eyes, matching it with a playful smirk.

Your eyes went wide, taken aback by what he said.

You spoke too soon; he's now become playful.

Jungwon's eyes formed into a crescent moon as he chuckles at your reaction.

"Sorry, I can't help but tease you. It's really been a long time since I've talked to someone I know from back home," he said, tucking his hands into his neatly ironed dark pants and leaning his back against the railing. "Besides your brother, of course."

"You still in contact with Riki-niisan?" You ask in surprise.

"We never lost contact with each other. I never knew your brother could be clingy" He joked, making you smile. "I also found out from him that you moved to this city to study"

His eyes found yours again, and as you looked into them, a hint of sadness reflected back at you, instantly making you feel like your heart dropped.

"I've been wanting to get in touch with you, but I'm afraid you might not want to talk to me."

As you continue to look into Jungwon's eyes, the regrets succeed in clouding not only your mind but also your heart.

Regrets about the times you had a chance back then to make up with him, thinking that if you had just been capable of handling your emotions instead of avoiding him and projecting your feelings onto him, there wouldn't be this series of "what if's" that has built in your mind.

But because of how childishly you handled the situation, you ended up hurting the person who had only pure intentions, and now he is doubting whether he was the problem when it was you to blame.

"Jungwon, I—"

"Y/n," your words were suddenly cut off when you heard one of your friends call you, her face showing signs of tiredness.

"I think we need to go home; Soo-ah is too wasted," she sighed, shaking her head as if she was stressed about something.

You peeked inside the club, trying to find the rest of your friends from the balcony. As you caught a glimpse of them, you couldn't help but feel worried.

The scene where one of your friends swaying side to side, raising a bottle of champagne, and shouting colorful words at the top of her lungs, is enough for you to end the night.

However, you were snapped back to reality when you realized Jungwon was still there with you on the balcony.

As you looked at him, he already had his arms crossed over his chest, still leaning on the railing. His eyes were on you, and a small, wistful smile played on his lips, carrying a hint of understanding.

"Go ahead, it's getting late," he said with a nod, gesturing for you to follow your friend, who was still standing by the sliding door, waiting for you to join her and go home.

Not wanting to bother your friend any further, as she looked exhausted, you nodded at him and proceeded to follow your friend to the rest of the girls to pack up.

As you walked away from the balcony, it felt like each step was stamping on your heart, making a cracking noise and echoing another layer of guilt that piled up in your heart.

You closed your eyes and clutched your chest, trying to soothe the pain you were feeling.

"What if this is the final chance?"

Your steps came to a halt.

"What if this is the last?"

As if your body took over, you turned around and ran back to the balcony with a pounding heart.

Maybe you acted like a child for ignoring him for years, thinking he might have moved on and forgotten about it, but you were so wrong.

Meeting him tonight, felt like fate had a reason.

"Jungwon!" you called. You found him still in the same position but now looking up at the sky with his eyes closed.

Those gorgeous eyes found yours once again, wide from hearing his name exclaimed by you.

"Let's do it," you said, still catching your breath. Jungwon frowned, dumbfounded by your words.

"Let's get dinner to catch up," you continued, the words slipped in your mouth feel like a weight you had been carrying for five years, slightly lifted, making you genuinely smile. "My treat."

At that moment, not only did your heart feel like it could finally breathe from the chains of guilt that caged you, but also the man who had been wishing to meet you could finally gather the courage to ask about the things he did that made you avoid him and formally apologize for it.

With a soft smile, he uttered words that came straight from his heart.

"I'm looking forward to it, Y/n"

Chapter Seven

Sometimes, it feels like the universe adores you, bestowing blessings that you don't always feel you deserve. Sure, life isn't as easy as it seems in the movies, but with the universe blessing you with people who become your strong support system, life becomes bearable.

However, just as much as the universe adores you, it can also seem to curse you with its worst imaginable trials. It felt like the universe was in that state with you when a realization dawned on you.

How can you keep the dinner that you promise when you have no means to contact Jungwon?

You slammed your head onto the open book placed in your desk with the rest of your study materials creating a loud thud. You groaned at your stupidity.

This realization have been bugging you for days.

You were ready to give Jungwon the details about the dinner you planned, but as you scrolled through your contacts, a sudden lightning bolt of awareness struck you.

You had deleted his number a long time ago.

You stomped your feet in frustration, you thought studying will help you ignore this feeling but it wasn’t working well for you.

"Still thinking about it?"

With your head still resting on the desk, you turned your head towards the sound of a voice and saw Eunhee standing in the doorway, a plastic bag in one hand and the other resting on her waist.

"Okaeri" you lifelessly greet.

After graduating high school, you and Eunhee decided to apply to the same university and, miraculously, both passed the entrance exam.

Her presence was one of the reasons your parents felt comfortable letting you move to another city for your studies; knowing someone would be there to accompany you gave them peace of mind.

"Tadaima" she greets back with a smile.

You and Eunhee had been roommates ever since freshman year, sharing both the challenges and joys of college life together, including the history you had with Jungwon.

The first time you told her about it, you got hit in the head, delivering a much-needed reality check.

She scolded you for how poorly you handled the situation, insisting that if you had told her sooner, she would have knocked some senses into you to prevent it from happening.

You couldn't help but agree and wish you had confided in her back then.

"I told you, just contact your brother; he surely has Jungwon's number" Eunhee suggested.

You knew she was right. It was an obvious solution to simply ask your brother, especially since Jungwon had mentioned they were still in contact.

It was an easy fix, a straightforward way to solve your problem. Yet, for some reason, it felt incredibly difficult for you.

The thought of reaching out to your brother and admitting that you needed Jungwon's number was daunting. It made you confront the reality of your past actions and the lingering feelings of guilt and regret.

Despite knowing it was the simplest way forward, the emotional weight of the situation made it seem far from easy.

Now, lying in your bed, you stared at your brother's message inbox. You typed out comprehensive sentences, trying to find the right words to ask for Jungwon's number, only to delete them repeatedly.

The task should have been simple, but each attempt felt like an impossible hurdle. The more you tried, the more the words eluded you, as if the gravity of the situation rendered you unable to reach out for the help you needed.

With a heavy sigh, you finally gave up and turned off your phone, placing it on your bedside table.

Ready to accept defeat and let sleep take you away from your misery, you closed your eyes.

Just as you began to drift off, your phone chimed with a notification. You reached for your phone again and squinted to the sudden brightness of the screen.

"Hi, it's Jungwon. I hope you haven't forgotten the dinner you promised ;)"

The content of the message nearly made you jump out of bed, totally erasing any trace of sleep from your mind.

The message took you aback, making you question if it was really him, as it was a mystery how he had gotten your number.

And with a wink emoji?!

It was all so new to you that it took a while to gather your thoughts and reply.

"Is it really you, Jungwon?"

As if he was waiting for your reply, he responded almost instantly.

"Yeah, it's me~"

You let out a gasp, covering your mouth in disbelief when he sent you a selfie. He was lying on his bed, wearing a black shirt with his hair visibly wet from the shower.

He was dashingly handsome.

The sight of him was enough to make your face turn as red as a tomato and cause your brain to short-circuit, rendering you completely speechless.

"I got your number from your brother when you started studying here. He insisted I have it in case of an emergency. I'm glad I kept it."

His message left you in a daze. All those years, he had your number?

The realization hit you hard, for all this time, the means to contact him had been right there, and he had known how to reach you?

The thought of him having your number all these years sent a whirlwind of emotions through you, from shock to a bittersweet.

"I've always wanted to reach out," Jungwon admitted. "But I wasn't sure if you wanted to hear from me."

His words words made your heart swell with emotion. You felt a mix of guilt, relief, and a new kind of happiness. You realized that despite the years of silence, he had always kept a piece of you with him, waiting for the right moment.

"Thank you for reaching out, Jungwon," you finally replied. You bit your lip, nervous about the next message you wanted to send, something you had been wanting to say to him for a very long time.

"I've missed you."

With shaky hands, you quickly typed the next message to divert his attention from the first one.

"And yes, the dinner is still up. Are you free next Friday night?"

As you sat there, staring at your phone, with all the details being set for the upcoming dinner, you felt a sudden shift within you.

The regret and guilt began to fade, replaced by hopeful anticipation. You knew that this was a second chance, a moment to reconnect and rebuild what had been lost.

For the first time in a long while, you felt a genuine sense of happiness.

This time, you were determined to make the right choices.

Chapter Eight

The morning sun streamed through the curtains, gently waking you from a restless sleep. The sudden feeling of significant weighed heavily on your mind.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Today was the day of your dinner with Jungwon.

Rising from bed, you went through your morning routine with a sense of purpose. This wasn’t just any day; it was a chance to make things right.

After a quick shower, you wrapped yourself in a towel and stood in front of your closet, contemplating your outfit. You wanted to look perfect, not just for Jungwon, but for yourself—an expression of the new beginning you were stepping into.

Next, you moved to your vanity, carefully applying makeup that enhanced your natural beauty. A bit of eyeliner, a touch of blush, and a swipe of your favorite lipstick completed the look.

You wanted to present the best version of yourself, one that reflected the changes you had undergone over the years.

Satisfied with your appearance, you slipped into a pair of comfortable yet stylish shoes and gave yourself a final once-over in the mirror. You felt a surge of confidence and a sense of readiness to face whatever the evening might bring.

With everything in place, you grabbed your purse and checked your phone for any messages from Jungwon. Seeing none, you took a deep breath, allowing a wave of calm to wash over you.

Today was about seizing the moment and embracing the second chance you had been given.

When the time finally arrived, you felt a sudden mix of excitement and nervousness as you entered the restaurant.

You took a seat at the table you had reserved, heart brimming with hope as you awaited Jungwon's arrival.

Or so you thought would happen.

You nervously swirled the third juice you had ordered with the straw, eyes constantly darting outside and then back to your phone, waiting for a notification. Thirty minutes had passed since you arrived, and there was still no sign of Jungwon. Restlessness began to seep in, and doubts started to creep into your mind.

"Just thirty more minutes," you told yourself. "He'll come."

Yet as the minutes ticked by, Jungwon was still nowhere to be found. You tried to convince yourself that he hadn’t intentionally ditched you, reasoning that perhaps he had forgotten since you hadn’t notified him today or given him a heads-up that you were already at the meeting spot.

Sighing in defeat, you felt a lump forming in your throat, tears threatening to spill. Gathering your things, you decided to leave, hoping that some ice cream might help soothe the growing sadness in your chest.

As you left the restaurant, your phone rang. Despite not being in the mood to talk to anyone, you still answered, seeing it was your brother.

"Nini?" you tried to casually greet Ni-ki, masking the sadness in your tone.

"Are you free tonight?" he asked. You were about to decline, assuming he was about to pull one of his usual stunts, flying over to visit you as if it were just a short trip instead of thousands of miles away.

You really weren’t in the mood for his crazy antics. But his next words stopped you in your tracks.

"Can you check on Jungwon? He hasn't been answering his phone since yesterday."

The sadness and frustration that had boiled inside you as you exited the restaurant evaporated in an instant, replaced by concern and agitation as you stood in front of Jungwon's apartment door.

Ni-ki had given you directions to Jungwon's place, asking you to check on him after he'd become unresponsive. Your brother wanted to do it himself, but work had him tied up, leaving you with the task.

"Jungwon?" you called out after ringing the doorbell.

No response.

You tried again, but just like the first time, silence greeted you from the other side. Your worry intensified, and you began chewing the inside of your cheek anxiously.

Glancing at one of your brother's messages, you carefully entered the passcode for Jungwon's apartment that Ni-ki had provided.

The door clicked open after you entered the passcode, and as you turned the knob, the trembling in your hand was a clear sign of your nervousness.

You had no idea what you were about to see behind that door, and the fear of finding something horrible gnawed at you. Images from the countless crime documentaries you had binge-watched replayed in your mind, making you gulp.

You pushed the door open slowly, and immediately, the darkness inside greeted you. Cold sweat formed on your forehead as you hesitated.

This was exactly how things started in horror movies!

With a swift motion, you swung the door wide open and frantically searched for the light switch, tapping the wall until, by some miracle, you found it. The lights flickered on, and you let out a sigh of relief as you scanned the room, finding nothing unusual.

You called for Jungwon again, but still, no response. Your phone was still clutched in your hand, already open to the call app, ready to dial for help if needed. Your heart raced as you faced another door.

Jungwon's room.

You knocked once more, calling his name, but it was the same as before—silence. Slowly, you opened the door, bracing yourself for what lay inside. The room was dark, but with the lights from the hallway spilling in, you quickly spotted Jungwon lying on his bed, wrapped in a thick blanket.

Rushing to his side, you immediately noticed he was drenched in sweat, his breath labored and pained. You pressed your palm to his forehead, and the burning heat of his skin confirmed what your instincts had already told you.

Jungwon hadn’t missed your dinner out of spite or to get back at you.

He couldn’t come because he was sick.

Somehow, knowing this brought a sense of peace to your heart.

The room seemed to swirl and twist as Jungwon slowly opened his eyes to a blurry world. His head throbbed with each heartbeat, and though his body was consumed by an insatiable heat, he felt cold to the bone.

As consciousness slowly seeped back into him, the realization struck—he was burning up with fever. Struggling to focus his blurred vision on the ceiling above him, fragments of memory began to return.

He was supposed to have dinner with you.

The thought hit him like an ice-cold bucket of water, sending a shiver down his spine that was ten times colder than the fever raging through his body.

Jungwon had felt under the weather the day before, but he had brushed it off, determined to finish his work. Even though he had felt worse earlier, he convinced himself that a little rest would set him right. He had been looking forward to tonight's dinner so much that he ignored the signs. But as the day wore on, his condition only worsened until he was now bedridden.

Panic surged through him as he tried to sit up, imagining you sitting alone at the restaurant, thinking he had abandoned you. But a wave of dizziness hit him, forcing him back down onto the bed. He closed his eyes in frustration, unable to bear the thought of you drowning in negative thoughts, believing he had stood you up.

He needed to get to you, even if it meant pushing through the fever and dealing with the consequences of his stubbornness.

As Jungwon gathered his strength to make another attempt to rise, he flinched when something cool and damp touched his forehead. His eyes snapped open, and he was greeted by the sight of your gentle face, leaning over him as you carefully wiped his forehead.

Jungwon blinked, struggling to process the sight of you beside him. The cool cloth in your hand was a stark contrast to the feverish heat radiating from his skin. He opened his mouth to speak, but his throat was dry and scratchy, and only a faint croak escaped.

"Shh," you whispered, your voice soothing. "Don't try to talk."

Your gentle tone, combined with the sight of your concerned eyes, made something inside Jungwon twist with emotion. He hadn't seen you this close in what felt like forever, and the reality of you being here, taking care of him, was overwhelming.

Your touch was calming, a balm to the chaotic storm of thoughts and fever plaguing him. He felt guilty—guilty for worrying you, for not being able to show up like he had promised. But the guilt was slowly being replaced by something else, something he couldn't name as he watched you care for him.

"I tried..." he began again, his voice cracking. "I didn't want you to think.."

"I know," you said softly, cutting him off. "I know you didn't stand me up on purpose."

He wanted to apologize, to explain how much it had meant to him, how much he had looked forward seeing you again. But the words wouldn't come out right, and the exhaustion tugging at him was too strong.

Instead, he just watched you, his eyes heavy but refusing to close, afraid that if he blinked, you might disappear.

As he looked like you, he had noticed something in you that he failed to realized when he first saw you at the club.

You had changed.

Gone was the carefree, youthful face he remembered from before. Now, your features had matured, carrying a grace and poise that hadn't been there before.

The roundness of your cheeks had given at to a more defined structure, your eyes still held the same warmth but with the depth that spoke of experiences lived and lessons learned. There was a quiet strength in the way you moved, in the way you cared for him, that he hadn't noticed before.

You were beautiful.

Not just in the way he had always known, but in a way that took his breath away. The realization stirred something deep within him, an unfamiliar feeling that made his heart beat in a different, almost unsteady rhythm.

The longer he continue staring at your face, his vision slowly turning blurry with only your angelic face being in the focus. It feels like every blink there's slowly a heart shapes one by one appearing, floating around you.

'It's just the fever,' he told himself, trying to push the feeling down. His thoughts were muddled, and he knew better than to trust them when he was this sick.

But even as he told himself this, his eyes couldn't stop tracing your features, his heart couldn't stop its erratic rhythm. The sight of you like this, so close, so caring, was doing things to him—things he hadn't expected, things he wasn't prepared for.

It made him uneasy, yet at the same time, he felt drawn to it, to you.

"Jungwon?" Your voice broke through his thoughts, soft and concerned.

He blinked, realizing that he's been staring, his heart still thudding painfully in his chest. "I-I'm okay," he croaked, though he wasn't sure if he was saying it to reassure you or himself.

You gave him a small, understanding smile, one that made his heart twist in that strange, unfamiliar way again. "You should rest," you said gently, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "You need to get better."

Jungwon nodded, though his thoughts were far from restful. As he closed his eyes, he couldn't shake the image of you from his mind, couldn't stop the way his heart was responding to your presence.

He tried to ignore it, tried to convince himself that it was nothing, just the fever messing with his head.

But deep down, he knew better.

As he drifted back into a fitful sleep, one thought lingered in his mind: you had changed,

so had his feelings.

Chapter Nine

Jungwon never felt a relief in his entire life as he open his eyes from a good sleep. He lay there for a moment, letting the stillness of the morning settle over him, before finally pushing himself up, testing his strength.

After a sleepless night and days of feeling weak, the fever finally broken leaving him feeling lighter, almost like he was waking up from a long, hazy dream.

He stretched, feeling the tightness in his muscles, but it was the good kind—the kind that reminded him he was alive, that he was getting better.

All thanks to you.

There are no days that you are not there beside him while he was battling with his sickness. Without you it will make sure take him longer to recover.

As his thoughts drifted back to you, the way you'd cared for him so gently, the concern in your eyes, the way your hand felt cool and reassuring against his fevered skin made him smile, soft smile that felt like it came from a place deep inside him that he hadn't accessed in years.

He got out of bed slowly, steadying himself as got out bed slowly, steading himself as he made his way to the bathroom. The face that looked back at him in the mirror was pale, but there was a spark in his eyes that hadn't been there before.

He splashed some water on his face, feeling the coolness refresh him, waking him up fully. As he patted his face with a clean towel, he noticed a bright, bear shaped sticky note stuck on the bathroom mirror.

"Don't forget to take your medicine on time! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ – Y/N"

He can't help but giggled at the kaomoji that you used, quickly reminded him those notes he gets on the gifts he received when he was high school usually on his energy drink, so much similar.

He knows.

He continued his path though the apartment, finding more notes: one on the refrigerator door, reminding him to eat healthy foods, another on the nightstand urging him to rest, and even one on the kitchen counter suggesting he hydrate often.

Each note was a tiny piece of your care left behind, and with each one he read, a warmth spread through his chest.

Jungwon's fingers lingered over the last note, his mind replaying the moments when you must have placed them there. He hadn't realized how much these small gestures would mean to him.

The realization that you've been here, that you cared enough to leave these notes, stirred something in him.

With a smirk, he grabbed a pen and a small notepad, mirroring your approach. He walked back to the refrigerator and placed his first note next to yours:

"Only if you join me for the next meal"

He continued around the apartment, leaving playful and grateful replies to each of your notes:

"You've got great handwriting, by the way."

"Feeling much better, thank to your TLC."

Jungwon grabbed his phone, the weight of it in his hand grounding him as he scrolled through his messages. There were a few from his coworkers, a missed call from his boss, but it was your message that caught his eye.

"Went back to uni to attend some classes. Let me know if you need anything. :)"

He smiled and quickly typed out a reply.

"Thank you, I really appreciate everything you did for me. How about we reschedule that dinner? This time, I promise I'll be there."

He hit send, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness. He hadn't felt like this in a long time—like a kid waiting for something exciting to happen, something that could change everything.

Jungwon walked into his kitchen, making a simple breakfast as he waited for your reply. He couldn't stop himself from glancing at his phone every few minutes, his mind racing with thoughts of what might happen next.

When his phone finally buzzed with a new message, he nearly knocked over his coffee in his haste to grab it.

''How about tomorrow night?"

Jungwon smiled, his heart doing that weird, excited flutter again. He quickly typed back a confirmation, his fingers moving almost on their own as he set the plan in motion.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. He spent most of it thinking about the dinner. Part of him was still nervous, still unsure of how to navigate these new feelings, but another part—a bigger part— was excited. He wanted to see you, to talk to you, to spend time with you.

By the time the day rolled around, Jungwon found himself standing outside your dorm, nervously rubbing his hands together as he leaned against his car, the soft glow of the evening lights reflecting on his face. His mind was spinning with anticipation, wondering how the night would go.

"Jungwon!"

The sound of your voice instantly pulled him from his thoughts. His head turned in your direction, and for a moment, everything seemed to move in slow motion.

There you were, walking toward him in the simplest of dresses—a light pastel that flowed effortlessly with the breeze. It wasn't flashy or overly formal, but in Jungwon's eyes, it was like the world had frozen just to capture this moment.

His breath hitched as he took in every detail—the way your hair swayed with each step, the soft smile on your face, and how the gentle evening light highlighted your features.

There was something so natural yet mesmerizing about you. You weren't just the girl he had known from years ago; you really had matured, grown into someone even more beautiful than he had imagined. His heart stirred, beating a rhythm he hadn't quite felt before.

"Something's wrong?" You asked in confusion with his sudden stillness.

Jungwon snapped back to reality, quickly composing himself before flashing a warm smile.

"You... you look beautiful tonight" Jungwon said, his voice slightly betraying his nerves. He looked down to cleared his throat, missing the way you blushed with his compliment.

Jungwon stepped forward and opened the car door for you, his movements gentle and deliberate.

"Shall we?" he asked, still feeling the lingering effects of seeing you in a new light.

As you stepped into the car, Jungwon couldn't help but let his gaze linger just a second longer, feeling that unfamiliar flutter in his chest once more.

The evening was pleasant, with the sound of your laughter filling the air as you caught up on everything that had happened since you last spoke.

Jungwon found himself smiling more than he had in a while, but there was something he couldn't shake—the weight of the questions he had buried for so long.

As the conversation drifted, he saw the way you fiddled with the napkin in your hand, your eyes dropping to the table for a moment.

He knew that look. You were nervous, maybe even hesitant, and his heart tightened in anticipation.

He had a feeling he knew what was coming next.

"Jungwon," you started, your voice soft, almost unsure. He immediately turned his full attention to you, his heart beating a little faster. "I wanted to apologize... for suddenly losing contact with you back then."

There it was.

Jungwon's chest tightened, but he didn't show it. He smiled softly, nodding, trying to ease the tension.

"It's okay," he said, meaning it. He didn't want to make this harder for you than it already was. "People grow apart sometimes... but, if it's not too much to ask—" he hesitated, feeling selfish for even bringing it up, but he had to know.

"Is it okay to know why?"

He watched as you expression shifted, the light in your eyes dimming slightly. You looked down, fidgeting with you napkin again, and for a moment, he thought you might actually tell him the truth. But then you gave a small laugh, almost forced, and shrugged.

"I guess I was just...really busy" You nervously laugh "School, life, you know. It all kind of caught up with me."

Jungwon smiled, but deep down, he know that wasn't it. Not the whole truth, anyway.

He knows.

He has always known.

When you stopped talking to him, when you disappeared from his life, he has sensed there was going on. The way you had distanced yourself felt deliberate, and it hurt more than he could admit.

But what really gave it away was the gifts—the little care packages, the foods, and sticky notes filled with motivational puns and quotes accompanied with cute doodles.

He had always suspected it was you. No one else would gone out of their way to make sure he was taken care of, not like you had.

The moment you stopped talking to him, those small, thoughtful gestures had stopped too. He has noticed, and the pieces had fallen into place.

But he didn't push it. Not then, and not now.

He nodded again, forcing his smile to stay in place even though part of him was disappointed. "I understand," he said quietly. "I'm just glad we're talking again."

And he meant that.

He was happy to have you back in his life, even if there was still questions unanswered. He wouldn't force you to explain what had really happened. You had your reason, and he respected that.

But deep down, he couldn't help but hope that one day, you'd tell him. One day, you'd trust him again to share the real reason you had pulled away.

For now, though, Jungwon take what he could get. He wouldn't push, because having you here, across from him, was enough.

It was more than enough.

Chapter Ten

After the dinner, your friendship with Jungwon began to feel like it had slipped back into the comfortable rhythm it had in high school.

The awkwardness of lost time seemed to melt away, replaced by an easy companionship.

Whenever you both had free time, you found yourselves spending it together—catching dinners, window shopping, or simply grabbing snacks for a quick break.

This time, it was Jungwon's idea to got to the movies after he learned you were eager to see the latest release in a series you'd both followed.

The two of you sat through the film, laughing at the same parts and exchanging quiet comments, surrounding the both of you with warm and familiar atmosphere.

As you sat in the car on the way back, a thought crossed your mind. Jungwon had been spending so much time with you lately, always eager to hang out, always suggesting things to do.

It made you wonder.

Did he have other friends?

Friends he shared these kinds of moments with?

You hesitated for a moment before asking. "So... do you hang out like this with your other friends?"

Jungwon glanced at you briefly before returning his attention to the road, his brows slightly raised at the question.

"Friends?" He repeated, as if to make sure he heard you right. You nodded, curiosity getting the better of you.

"I mean, I do have friends" he said, shrugging slightly. "But they don't really like doing this kind of stuff."

The answer surprised you a little, and it made you wonder something else. You knew he was good-looking, kind, and had that natural charm about him.

Surely, he'd had a girlfriend at some point, right?

But before you could ask directly, you found yourself hesitating.

Was that too personal?

You didn't want to pry but the curiosity kills you at the moment.

"I'm sure you've done these things with a girl before, though..." You said it casually, hoping it wouldn't sound too invasive, your gaze shifting out the window to avoid his reaction.

To you surprise, Jungwon chuckled softly. "No, not really."

Your head snapped toward him in shock. "Really?" The disbelief in your voice was clear.

Jungwon nodded, his expression calm and sincere. "Yeah, I've never had a girlfriend."

You blinked, trying to process that. Jungwon? Never had a girlfriend?

It was hard to believe, given how many girls had swooned over him back in high school—and probably still did. He seemed so...put together.

You were at a loss for words, but Jungwon didn't seemed to mind your reaction.

"Well," he said, a playful lilt to his voice, "if you know someone, maybe you could match me up."

His suggestion caught you off guard, and suddenly, a small but sharp pang shot though your chest, like a sting you weren't expecting.

You blinked in surprise, forcing a smile, but deep down, it hurt in a way you hadn't anticipated. You didn't understand why.

Why did the idea of introducing him to someone else—someone who might catch his interest—bother you so much?

The thought of seeing him with another girl, laughing, and sharing the same moments the two of you had been enjoying lately, made something inside of you twist.

Quickly, you shook your head. "I don't think I can do that." you said, trying to keep your voice casual.

Jungwon seemed confused for a moment. "Why not?" he asked, his tone still playful, unaware of the strange ache his words had caused.

You bit your lip, searching for an excuse. "I don't know any women around your age," you finally said, managing to sound nonchalant. "Most of my friends are close to my age."

It was true; you were twenty-two years old, surrounded by a vibrant group of friends your age, all still navigating the ups and downs of college life together. Your felt sense of comfort and camaraderie among them, but when it came to Jungwon, everything was different.

You couldn't help but wonder if he would actually consider dating someone younger. Surely, a guy like him would be interested in a women who were around his age—twenty-seven or older, women who had their lives more figured out than you did.

Jungwon fell silent for a moment, as if considering your response. Then, with a soft smile, his voice quieter, more serious than before said,

"Around your age, huh?" He looked at you, and there was something in his gaze that made your heart skip a beat.

"I'm fine with that."

His words hug in the air, leaving you momentarily speechless. There was something about the way he said it—something gentle but also bold, like he was hinting at something more.

The pain that you felt earlier sudden disappeared, totally gone like it didn't happen, only to be replaced with a quick beat of your heart and warmth spreading across you cheeks.

Was he... implying something?

You looked away, quickly, trying to steady yourself. Your thought were suddenly racing, a strange fluttering sensation stirring in your stomach. You weren't sure how to respond, or if you even should.

A part of you wanted to brush it off as causal banter, but the way he had look at you made it had to dismiss.

And then there was your heart, beating a little faster, making you wonder if maybe just maybe, this was more than just two old friend reconnecting.

As the weeks passed, your time with Jungwon grew more frequent and comfortable. Each outing felt like a glimpse into a friendship that had been rekindled, a spark that had never truly gone out.

You found yourselves laughing more often, sharing more stories, and creating new memories that felt just as precious as those from high school.

Being with Jungwon very often can't help but make you realize some moments that made you wonder if there was something more between you two.

During a spontaneous lunch one afternoon, Jungwon had leaned closer, whispering a joke that made your stomach flutter.

The way he looked at you sometimes, with that gentle smile and twinkling eyes, sent your heart racing.

Sometimes, you caught him watching you with fondness when you laughed, his gaze lingering a little too long, and each time you felt an electric thrill dance down your spine.

One day, as you were both walking through a local park, he playfully nudged you with his shoulder and said, "You know, I really like spending time with you. You make everything more fun."

You brushed it off, laughing it off lightly, but inside, your mind was racing.

Was he just being friendly? Or was there something deeper behind those words?

Then, one evening, everything took a turn. Your dorm experienced a power outrage, leaving you with no way to study for your major exam the next day. You felt a wave of panic wash over you. You needed to review, and the library was already closed.

However, Jungwon didn't hesitate to invite you to his apartment after hearing your situation.

"It's no big deal," he assured you, his voice warm and inviting. "I'll inform your parents and Ni-ki."

His last words gives you so much assurance to accept his kind offer.

Once inside his apartment, you immediately settled in at his dining table, books sprawled out around you. You tried to focus, flipping through your notes and practice problems, but the anxiety of the impeding exam loomed over you like a storm cloud.

As the minutes turned into an hour, you found yourself staring blankly at a particularly difficult math problem, your frustration mouthing with each failed attempt to solve it.

You let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. The numbers seemed to blur together, and your concentration slipped further away.

Jungwon passed by but quickly halted when he saw your miserable expression.

"You okay?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

You sighed dramatically. "I'm fine, just struggling with this problem"

He stepped closer, brow furrowed as he glanced at the paper in front of you. "Want me to take a look?"

Before you could respond, he pulled up a chair beside you, towel still draped around his neck from a shower, water droplets glistening in his tousled hair.

You couldn't help but stare, feeling a rush of warmth in your cheeks.

There was something effortlessly charming about him, even in such a casual state.

As he leaned over to see your work, your heart raced. It felt so nostalgic, the way he was explaining the problem to you, reminiscent of those afternoons in middle school when he'd patiently guided you through your studies. His voice was calm and reassuring, and you found yourself hanging on his every word.

But then, something on the table caught your eye. There, beside your notes, was the mug you had gifted him ages ago—the one with the garden design that reminded of you of his name.

The very reason you had stopped sending him gifts and pulled away.

The sight of the mug stirred something within you, a mix of nostalgia and warmth.

He kept it?

I thought his friends don't like it?

"Hey, is this the problem you're stuck on?" Jungwon's voice snapped you back to the present, his brow raised in curiosity.

"Yeah," you admitted, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of the emotions swirling inside you. "I just can't wrap my head around it."

He studied the problem for a moment before his fingers brushed against yours as he pointed to the paper. You felt a jolt of electricity at the contact, and your heart raced again. Jungwon's closeness, his focus on you, everything felt changed with an energy you couldn't ignore.

"This part is tricky," he explained, his voice steady and clear. "But if you look at it this way..."

As he walked you through the steps, you felt a sense of comfort was over you. His presence was calming, and the way he spoke made everything feel manageable.

You focused on him, on the way his eyes lit up with enthusiasm as he explained the concepts. You were reminded once more of how much you valued not just his help but his company.

And as he continued, something deeper began to stir within you, a growing awareness of your feelings. It was becoming increasingly clear that your feelings for Jungwon didn't die down, not a single thing.

You were still in love with him.

And seeing that mug, healed something inside of you.

As you worked through the problem Jungwon had just explained, you could feel his presence lingering beside you. He hadn't left your side after finishing his explanation, and though he was silent, you couldn't share the feeling of his gaze on you. Your eyes stayed fixed on your notebook, but the heat in your cheeks grew as you became increasingly aware of him.

You stole a quick glance from the corner of your eye, and your heart skipped a beat.

Jungwon had his head resting on his arm, lying on the table just inches away, his eyes soft as he watched you. He looked so at ease, but there was a gentleness in his gaze that made your pulse race. His other arm lay near the open notebook, as if he was still ready to help but, at the moment, was more focused on you than on the math problem in front of him.

Feeling flustered, you looked down again, trying to concentrate on the numbers, but his gaze felt as tangible as a touch. You shifted in your seat, forcing yourself to refocus, yet you could still feel him looking at you, and it was making you incredibly self-conscious.

When you finally turned to him, cheeks flushed, you managed to stammer, "I-Is something wrong?"

Jungwon chuckled softly, lifting his head just a little to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch was gentle, warm, and it made you freeze. He smiled, his voice a quite murmur, "Yeah, you look beautiful today."

Your heart immediately fluttered and a rush of warmth filling your chest as his words sank in. He kept his gaze steady on you, his expression unwavering and full of something that made you breathless.

"And it makes my heart go crazy," he added, leaning back slightly but never breaking eye contact. His eyes held a playful glint, but there was also something deeper, more serious.

You felt your cheeks grow even warmer as your tore your gaze away, attempting to hide the way his words affected you.

"D-don't be ridiculous," you mumbled, trying to downplay the fluttering in your stomach, even though you were sure he could see right through you.

Jungwon's smile widened, clearly amused by your reaction. "You're so cute when you're embarrassed," he teased, and you shot him a look of mock annoyance, though your blush betrayed you.

"Stop distracting me, I'm trying to study," you replied, attempting to sound stern but failing miserably as you couldn't help but smile.

Jungwon leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, still watching you with that soft look. "Alright, alright, I'll behave. But hey," he added, his tone becoming more thoughtful, "after your exam, if you're free, maybe we can go out and celebrate? Just the two of us?"

You met his gaze, your heart skipping a beat at the hint of excitement in his eyes.

"Yeah," you replied, smiling shyly, "I'd like that."

He nodded, seeming pleased, and you noticed a spark in his expression, ad if he'd already made up his mind about something.

He turned his attention back to your notebook, giving you space to study, but you could still feel the warmth of his lingering presence. It felt comforting, steady and you couldn't help but feel that this moment was the beginning of something more.

After days of studying and pouring all your energy into the exam, the moment finally arrived. As you left the exam room, a wave of relied washed over you.

You'd given it your all, and now, the excitement of the evening with Jungwon took over your thoughts. He'd promised a celebration, and you were determined to make it one worth remembering, regardless of the results.

You met him outside, where he greeted you with a warm smile. "Ready?" he asked, his eyes shining with anticipation.

You nodded, and he led you to a narrow spiral staircase that wound up the side of a building. Just as you reached the base, he extended his hands, gently holding yours to guide you up. You felt your cheeks warm at the touch, but his grip was steady and reassuring.

He seemed to sense your nerves, giving your hand a slight squeeze as you climbed the stairs together.

When you finally reached the top, you gasped at the sight ahead of you.

Spread across the rooftop was a cozy setup: a blanket laid out under a canopy of string lights that twinkled like stars, a small table with a cake and some snacks, and a perfect view of the city skyline glowing against the evening sky. The lights of the city stretched out before you, painting a breathtaking scene.

Turning to Jungwon, you felt a surge of emotions welling up. He'd gone through so much trouble for this moment, and you hadn't even received your exam result yet.

"Jungwon... you didn't have to do all this," you said, your voiced tinged with both gratitude and a bit of worry.

"But I wanted to," he replied softly, meeting your gaze. There was sincerity in his eyes that made your heart flutter. "You worked so hard. You deserve a celebration, no matter what."

You gave him a small, grateful smile, and you both walked over to the edge of the rooftop, where you settled by the railing. As you admired the view, you found yourselves talking easily—about your exam, Jungwon's latest projects at work, and everything in between.

The conversation was light, punctuated with laughter, and the atmosphere felt intimate and warm.

As you finished a bite of cake, Jungwon suddenly cleared his throat, drawing your attention. He seemed a little nervous, which was unusual for him, and it made you raise an eyebrow curiously.

"So," he began, a small smile playing on his lips, "you said last time that someone was recently trying to get your attention, right?" You nodded, confirming that someone from another department in your college was indeed trying to pursue you. "What happened with that?"

"I turned him down. I don't have any feelings for him, and I felt bad letting him continue pursuing me without any feelings on my part. I might lead him on and waste his time." You took another bite, savoring the sweetness as Jungwon watched you intently. "Besides, I was too busy with school."

"So, if you weren't busy," he said, a bit more casually, "what kind of guy would you go for?"

You thought for a moment, pretending to consider it seriously. "Well... he'd have to be handsome," you said with playful grin, watching as Jungwon subtly brushed a hand through his hair, giving you a self-assured smile in response.

"Good temper?" he asked, as if he was mentally checking off boxes.

"Definitely," you agreed. " And he'd have to be at least this tall." You raised you hand above your head, gesturing a bit higher than his height.

With a chuckle, Jungwon straightened straightened his posture, lifting his chin proudly to meet the mark.

You giggled at his antics, playfully nudging him. "And, of course, he should be kind."

Jungwon looked thoughtful as he turned his gaze to the city lights. After a brief pause, he glanced back at you, a hint of vulnerability in his expression.

"You know..." he paused, nervous starting creeping up on him.

"...I think I possess the qualities you mentioned."

Your heart skipped a beat as you froze, fork halfway to your mouth. His eyes held yours, and he took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts.

"That's why I wanted to ask you..." He hesitated, his tone suddenly soft and serious. "Can I be the man who gets to be part of your life? To stand by your side, to laugh with you... to make you smile like this?"

You stared at him, feeling an overwhelming mix of emotions. Jungwon was offering you something you'd dreamed of, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes.

For a moment, you felt like you were floating in a dream.

The boy you'd admired since middle school, the one who had occupied your thought through the years, the one who you silently cheering on the sidelines when he practicing for a football game, the one you effortlessly make pack gifts to cheer him up during game season... was here, confessing that he felt the same way.

It was the kind of moment you'd only ever imagined, a quiet hope you'd carried through so many stages of your life, never quite believing it would come true.

Your heart raced as you took it all in—the warmth in his gaze, the way he looked at you with such tenderness. It was like you were suspended in a beautiful, beautiful, fragile dream, and a small part of you feared that if you moved or spoke, you might wake up, and this moment slip away.

But it was real, he was real.

And he was right here, waiting for you, giving you the space to breath and to let the reality of his words sink in.

You felt a spark that immediately sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach when he reached for your hand and caressed it gently. He gave you a soft smile and continued, "You don't have to answer me right away. Take your time, okay? I just wanted you to know how I feel."

You could feel your checks warming, your pulse quickening, but there was a sense of calm that washed over you too. You squeeze his hand as you managed to whisper,

"Just so you know... the feeling is mutual."

Jungwon's face lit up with a soft, genuine smile, with his dimple deepening that you really love. You felt his thumb brushing over you knuckles that sent another waves of butterflies on your stomach.

He seemed content with the simple connection, knowing that there was no rush, and that the possibility of something beautiful had just begun to unfold between you.

The two of you continued to talk, your words filled with quite hopes and lingering glances.

Jungwon felt a quiet contentment settle within him, knowing he could now pursue you openly, with no reservations—only the pure, genuine love and admiration he held for you, hoping that his feelings would eventually find their way to your heart.

The days that followed Jungwon's quiet confession felt like a gentle unfolding of a dream you hadn't realized could be real.

True to his word, he started showing you, in every little way possible, how much he cared. From bringing you coffee on mornings when he knew you had early classes, to waiting for you outside the library after late study sessions, his gestures were sweet, consistent, and undeniably meaningful.

He was there with small surprises—an extra jacket when he noticed you'd forgotten yours, or a quick note tucked into your notebook remining you to take a break. And every time you looked up, he'd be watching with that soft, affectionate gaze that made your heart skip a beat.

It wasn't just the small gestures, either. When he found out you'd been stressing about an upcoming presentation, he organized a mini study session at his place, complete with snacks and calming playlist. And when he saw how nervous you were, he even practiced with you, listening intently, giving you feedback, and reassuring you that you were more than capable.

His consistency, his warmth, and the way he openly showed how much he liked you made you felt cherished in a way you hadn't expected.

And now, after a long day out together—an impromptu dinner date that had him sneaking you off to his favorite hidden restaurant—Jungwon was walking you back to your dorm.

His fingers were intertwined with yours, his thumb gently brushing against you knuckles as you both strolled through the quiet campus, sharing laughs and reliving moment from your date.

All of that with your pink purse dangling on his shoulder, a sight that made you giggle at how casually he carried it unbothered by how girly it looked on him. He wore it with a smile, squeezing your hand every now and then, as if to reassure you that he was exactly where he wanted to be.

As you strolled through the quite campus, your phone suddenly rang, and when you glanced down, you saw it was Ni-ki.

You answered immediately, expecting his usual check-in, half expecting his usual teasing tone, but instead, his voice came through dark and uncharacteristically stern.

"Have you arrived at your dorm?" he asked, and the strictness in his voice made you pause.

You glanced up at Jungwon, who squeezed your hand reassuringly, his warm smile grounding you. "Almost," you replied softly, trying to keep the peace.

"What's the matter?" you asked, hoping to keep things light.

There was a pause, and the Ni-ki's voice lowered even more. "There's a girl holding hands with a guy on campus right now..."

You were confused at what your brother saying, but his next word felt like someone throw an ice bucket over your head.

"that's you, right?"

You froze mid-step, your heart dropping as you realized what he was implying.

Jungwon stopped too, looking at you with a slight tilt of his head, concern flickering in his eyes. Your mind raced as you glanced around, searching for any sign of your brother.

And then, like a scene straight our of a dramatic movie, you spotted him—Ni-ki, walking towards you with dark expression, his phone still on his ear, eyes fixed on your intertwined hands with a cold expression that made your blood run cold.

"Riki-nii..." you whispered, pulling your hand back from Jungwon's, though he gave you a soft, reassuring look, his calm presence keeping you grounded even as a wave of worry swept over you.

A few moments later, Ni-ki was by your side, his gaze cold and intense as he sized up the situation.

Without a word, he took your purse from Jungwon's shoulder and held it firmly, then mentioned for you to walk with him. "Come on," he muttered, not giving Jungwon a glance.

You gave Jungwon an apologetic look as Ni-ki led you forward, your brother's silent insistence making it clear he wasn't in the mood to talk just yet.

Jungwon followed a few steps behind, hands shoved into his pockets, his jaw clenched but his eyes softened whenever you glanced back.

After a few moments of walking, you finally broke the silence. "I was going to tell you, Nii-san. I just wanted to make sure.... that you'd understand" you said softly, hoping he'd listened.

Ni-ki only gave you a sharp glare. "Understand? You could've given me a heads-up before I caught you sneaking around like this." He looked straight ahead, his face set in a stern expression, guiding you toward your dorm.

You sighed, trying to reason with him as you matched his stride. "We're not even together yet, Riki-nii. I didn't hide anything—"

But Ni-ki cut you off, thrusting your purse back into your hands as you reached your dorm's entrance. "Get inside," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

"Nini, please..." you tried, feeling helpless as he kept his gaze away from you, his tone rigid. It felt as though the brother you knew, the one who always teased and protected you, had been replaced by a stern stranger.

Just as you were about to turn to Jungwon for some support, he stepped forward, his warm hand reaching for your elbow, his touch calming you instantly. You looked up, meeting his soft, understanding eyes as he gave you a gentle smile.

"You should go inside," he said kindly, his thumb grazing your arm soothingly. "It's already dark, and you have classes tomorrow."

You hesitated, glancing between Jungwon and your brother, not wanting to leave them like this. "But..."

Jungwon leaned in, his hand moving up to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch calming despite the tension between you and your brother.

"I can handle this, okay? Don't worry." He spoke with a calm assurance, his gaze never wavering, and though you still felt anxious, his words helped settle your nerves.

Reluctantly, you nodded, giving Ni-ki one last pleading look, but he remained stoic, his gaze unwavering.

With a heavy heart, you turned and walked inside, glancing back one last time. You watched as Ni-ki and Jungwon turned and began to walk, their figures disappearing into the night.

The sight left a lingering ache in your chest, but the look in Jungwon's eyes reassured you that he would handle it.

You trusted Jungwon, and deep down, you hoped Ni-ki would see thins your way... eventually.

The silence between Jungwon and Ni-ki was thick, almost suffocating, as they made their way to the empty park under a dim glow of streetlights.

Jungwon felt his heart racing, the gravity of the situation sinking in with each step. He knew he was in the wrong for not speaking to Ni-ki first, for not even realizing that what he shared with you would hit his best friend this deeply.

He knew he should have asked Ni-ki's permission before pursuing you, especially since you meant so much to him. He understood the hurt and sense of betrayal Ni-ki must be feeling, after all, they were best friends, and here he was, holding onto a secret that concerned his sister.

When they stopped, Ni-ki remained with his back turned to Jungwon, his stance tense, fists clenched at his sides. Jungwon opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Ni-ki whipped around and swung a punch that landed square on his jaw, sending him stumbling back.

Pain shot through him, and he clutched his cheek, catching his breath. He barely had time to steady himself when another punch connected with his stomach, knocking the air out of him.

He doubled over, coughing as he tasted blood on his lip. Despite the pain, he didn't try to defend himself. He knew Ni-ki needed this release, needed to let out the anger and betrayal he felt.

If this was what it took for him to listen, Jungwon would endure it.

He braced himself, expecting another blow, but instead, Ni-ki took a deep, frustrated breath and ran a hand through his hair, as though he was trying to collect himself.

"Jungwon," Ni-ki's voice was hoarse with anger, "I don't care if you date someone younger. I don't care if you date someone who isn't in our circle. But why... why does it have to be my sister?" His voice broke a little, caught between fury and something close to betrayal.

"Out of all the girls who chase after you, why did it have to be her?"

Jungwon opened his mouth, but Ni-ki held up a hand, demanding silence. There was so much pain in his friend's eyes, and Jungwon knew that if he tried to defend himself now, Ni-ki wouldn't be able to hear him. So he waited, fists still clenched, willing himself to listen, to let Ni-ki's anger run its course.

Ni-ki's voice dropped, his words cutting like a knife. "Tell me, are you the reason she moved here? Are you the reason she wanted to study in this city?" The accusation hit like another blow, and Jungwon shook his head in confusion, trying to process what Ni-ki was saying.

"My sister... she's liked you since middle school, Jungwon" Ni-ki continued, his voice shaking with something deeper than anger. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? Do you think I didn't see it—that you were the reason she insisted on having you as her tutor?”

Jungwon blinked, taken a aback. He'd known that you were gifted in physics, but he'd brushed it off as you just being a fast learner.

But the idea, that you had pretend to need help just to be around him—made his heart ache with mix of regret and tenderness.

Ni-ki let out a bitter, humorless chuckle. "She didn't need tutoring. She was already brilliant in physics. But she wanted to help you because she likes you, Jungwon. She went out of her way for you, all without expecting anything in return." His voice softened just a bit, and Jungwon could see the pain hidden behind Ni-ki's anger.

"Do you know how hard it is to watch someone you care about quietly sacrifice for someone else?"

Jungwon felt warmth spread through him at Ni-ki's words, realizing just how deeply you had cared for him, even he hadn't deserved it. You'd gone to all this effort, all the while hiding your own feelings, and now...

Now he'd understood why he was drawn to you, why his own feelings had shifted.

You'd shown him a quiet, steady love, even when he hadn't seen it.

Finally, Jungwon met Ni-ki's gaze, eyes filled with sincerity. "I didn't know, Ni-ki. I swear, I had no ideas she liked me. I thought she was just being kind, trying to help me without any other reason. But now that I know...I can't see her that way anymore. She's become so much more to me."

Ni-ki clenched his fists, his jaw tight as he stared hard at Jungwon, trying to decide if he could believe him.

"You don't deserve my sister, Jungwon" He said, bitterness lacing his words.

The statement hit Jungwon hard, a painful truth that he felt in the core of his being. He understood—you were someone precious, someone worth protecting. Maybe Ni-ki was right, maybe he didn't serve you.

You deserved someone who would give you nothing less than the world.

But that was exactly why he couldn't walk away. He had to prove that he could be the one to give you that.

"I know," Jungwon admitted, his voice low and filled with sincerity. "i know I don't deserve her—not yet. She's kind, selfless, and she deserves someone who can measure up to that. But please...give me a chance to prove myself." He swallowed, his gaze unwavering as he Ni-ki's eyes. "Let me prove to you, and to her, tat I can be the person she deserves. I'll do whatever it takes. I'll earn her trust—and yours—if you give me the chance."

His voice softened, tinged with quite desperation. " I want to be the one who protects her, who supports he. I want to worthy of her, Ni-ki. I may not be there yet, but I'll work every day to become that person. I swear it."

There was silence, the weight of Jungwon's hanging heavy between them. He hoped Ni-ki could see the honestly in his eyes, could feel how much this meant to him. Jungwon knew he couldn't erase past or change how things had unfolded, be he could promise one thing—

that he would never take your love or trust for granted.

"Please," Jungwon continued, his voice voice barely above a whisper, "I love her, Ni-ki. Just give me a chance to show you that I'm worthy of her."

A flicker of doubt crossed Ni-ki's face, and then something shifted.

The hardness in his gaze softened, even if only slightly, as he let out long, frustrated breath. Deep down, Ni-ki knew Jungwon was a good guy. He'd always trusted him with almost everything.

And maybe, as much he hated to admit it, he was a little relieved it was Jungwon and not some stranger he couldn't trust.

"You have one chance, Jungwon," Ni-ki muttered, his voice still sharp but with a trace of reluctant acceptance. "If you mess this up...if you break her heart... I will personally make your life hell. I will destroy you. Do you understand?"

Jungwon nodded, feeling a mix of relief and respect. He straightened, ignoring the ache in his bruised face and stomach, and met Ni-ki's eyes. "I understand. And I promise, I won't let you down."

They stood in silence for a moment, tension slowly giving way to uneasy truce. Ni-ki's glare softened just a bit, though he couldn't completely mask the protective worry lingering in his gaze.

"Don't make me regret this, Jungwon," Ni-ki said, the threat clear but a hint of acceptance in his voice.

"I won't," Jungwon replied, feeling a newfound determination. For you, and for Ni-ki he'd make sure of it.

Back in your dorm room, you can't help but pace back and forth, your mind whirling with worry. Every possible scenario runs through your head, each one making your heart race faster.

You can only imagine what your brother and Jungwon might be discussing right now. Would Ni-ki react calmly, or would his protectiveness take over, sparking a fight?

You've seen him play the role of the overprotective brother before, but this time feels different, heavier.

You pause by the window, chewing your lip as you stare out at the quiet campus, your chest tightening with guilt. You know you should have told Ni-ki about your feelings for Jungwon earlier. You've heard your brother's opinions on dating enough to know that your relationship with Jungwon—his best friend, of all people—might feel like a betrayal.

The last thing you want is to be the reason they grow cold toward each other.

An hour passes, your anxious pacing only making your heart pound harder. Eventually, unable to stand the silence any longer, you grab your keys and decided to go to Jungwon's apartment, hoping he's already back. You need to see him, to know what happened, and—if nothing else—to make sure he's okay.

When you reach his apartment and knock, he open the door, and your heart drops at the sight of him. There's a fresh bruise darkening his cheek, and another on his jaw. He gives you a small, apologetic smile, but the sight of his injuries makes your concern turn to anger in an instant.

"Did Riki-nii do this to you?" you ask, voice shaking with fury. "I'm going to give my brother a piece of my mind"

Before you can turn to leave, Jungwon catches your wrist, pulling you back. "Hey, hey it's okay," he says softly, his voice soothing. "I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

You narrow your eyes, a scowl replacing your earlier worry. "No, you're not fine! Look at you! I trusted him to talk things out, not..." You gesture to his face, a frustrated huff escaping you. "I'm going over there. He has no right—"

Your words were cut off when Jungwon pulls you closer, resting his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as though your presence was all he needed to feel grounded. For a moment, the world quiets, and you feel his steady breaths matching yours, calming you.

"Please," he murmurs. "Don't be mad at him. We already talked it out, everything's okay now."

Your heart softens, but a part of you is still bristling with protectiveness for him. He watches your face, a gentle smile curving his lips, as if he can see the conflict within you. After a beat, you sigh and nod, choosing to trust him.

Once inside, you sit him down and grab a washcloth, dabbing it gently over the bruise on his cheek. Your touch is light, your fingers trembling slightly with worry.

Jungwon watches you in silence, his eyes soft, filled with something warm and unspoken. As you concentrate on his face, he feels a pang in his chest, remembering what Ni-ki had said:

You don't deserve her.

He lets out a sigh, breaking the quiet. "Your brother's right, you know," he murmurs almost to himself. "I don't deserve you."

Your hand freezes, and you look up, frowning. "Stop saying that." Despite everything Jungwon told you about his talk with Ni-ki, the thought of your brother's words cutting him like this makes anger simmer beneath your skin again. "I swear, if he made you feel—"

Jungwon chuckles softly, his eyes filled with affection as he reached for your hand, resting it against his bruised cheek, and leaned into her your touch, cherishing the warmth you gave, with his thump brushing over your knuckles.

"You're too good to me, you know that?" His gaze holds yours, tender and vulnerable. "How did I not see it before? All those years, I was so blind."

You shake your head, thumb tracing his cheek gently. "Don't blame yourself. I never wanted you to feel burdened by what I felt. I just...wanted you to know."

He holds your gaze, his own eyes soft with a mixture of regret and wonder. "You've always treated me better than I deserve, "he says quietly. "Whether it was back then or now, you've always seen the best in me." His voice drops to a whisper. "Maybe I don't deserve you , but I'm going to spend every day trying to."

Your heart skips a beat, and before you can reply, he leans in, his eyes searching yours. "Y/n," he breathes. "I love you."

The words send a shiver down your spine, your heart swelling as his confession sinks in. "Jungwon..." you whisper, voice with emotion.

"I'm sorry I took so long to say it," he continues, his gaze steady and full of sincerity. "I know I made you wait, that I hurt you without even realizing it. But because of you, I finally saw the truth. You deserve someone who will appreciate you fully—and I promise, I won't let you regret the choice you made."

Tears well up in your eyes as his words wrap around you heart, warm and reassuring. You've always struggled to find the right words, to articulate the depth of what you feel, but as you look into his eyes, you realize that you don't need to say anything.

Without another word, you lean forward, closing the distance between you, and press your lips to his in a gentle, lingering kiss. He responds immediately, his hand moving to the back of your head, holding you close as he kisses you with a tenderness that speaks of all the feelings he's been holding back.

It's soft, unhurried, a shared breath that feels like both an answer and a promise. In this single, heartfelt moment, everything you've held in silence, every hope, and every dream, finds its voice.

When you finally pull apart, foreheads still touching, he whispers, "How did I get so lucky?"

You smile, cheeks flushed, heart full, feeling like this moment was worth every hidden glance, every unspoken word. It feels like all those moments—years of quietly loving him, of small sacrifices he never even knew—were leading up to this.

You think back to middle school, how you'd linger at the edge of the field after school, cheering for him at his football games, hidden among the crowd so he wouldn't see the way your heart skipped with each play he made. Ever packed snack, every energy drink left "by accident" on his locker, was your way of showing care without a word spoken.

You'd insisted on become his tutor student, it wasn't because you needed help but to help him with his financial struggles, the extra weight he carried, and wanting to ease that burden in any way you could. Being his student gave you a reason to stay close, a way to support him without making him feel like he was in your debt.

It was never about him noticing; it was simply about making his days a little easier, seeing him smile a little brighter, and knowing you could play a part in it.

You used to wonder if loving someone silently was enough, if perhaps it was the purest form of love because there was no expectation, no demand, only quiet affection. And even though you thought it might go unrequited, your heart found joy in seeing him happy, whether he knew your feelings or not.

But now, as he stand before you, gazing back at you with the same depth and warmth you've felt for so long, fate seems has a way of hearing those hidden hopes, granting the quite wishes of a gentle heart.

Perhaps it was that purity of your love, the unwavering care you showed him, that allowed your feelings to reach him. All those moments you held your love back now feels like steps that led you to this moment—a moment that feels so much deeper because of all the waiting, all the silent sacrifices.

You realize that your patience, your quite devotion, has come back to you tenfold.

In this moment, Jungwon's love feels like it wraps around every hidden hope you held in your heart, filling in the spaces that were left waiting, growing over time. He sees you now—not just the present-day you, but the younger girl who quietly cheered him on, the one who made excuses to give him snacks, who silently offered help when he needed it most.

There's a quiet strength in his gaze, a tenderness that assures you that he won't just take your love for granted, as if he's promising not just to return your love but to honor it, to protect it with commitment that will last.

And you know now that he'll hold your heart with the same care you held for his all those years.

You feel complete.

Like you've finally come home to the love you've always longed for, only to find it more beautiful than you'd ever dared to dream.

As his hand lingers against you cheek, a soft smile on his lips, you know that his love for you is rooted not just in passion but in gratitude, in awe of the patience you showed.

His love isn't just a response; it's a promise—a promise to take care of your heart the way you took care of his, and to make you feel loved every day from here on out.

In his gaze, you can see the same warmth you've held for so long, a warmth that reflects back to you, returned and magnified. Your heart is no longer alone in its silent longing; it had found a partner in him, one who will carry it carefully.

'I might have loved Jungwon too early,' you think to yourself as you take in the softness in his eyes.

But he loved you at the perfect time.

©2024 Demuse Writer. All Right Reserved.

[n0tamused]

i request thy assistance. urgently.. needeth thee. is there any way thou can deliver some headcanons of what Mr. Reca would be like if his partner were studying for an extensive period of time and needed some loving after it?

much appreciated!

A/n: here you go bbg, I hope this is good enough, mwah! First time writing Reca, so I apologize if this is too short or a bit ooc. Thank you for the request.

Contents: Mr. Reca x GN reader, comfort fluff, not proof-read

-Mr. Reca is no stranger to burning the midnight oil as he has done it in the past himself more times than he cares to count. Often times this would be a result of him indulging a bit too much in his current project and forgetting about the passage of time, other times it was simply a necessity to get something done before the due date

-But he is truly not the biggest subscriber to seeing you burning yourself away. He’d click his tongue when he so much as senses the upcoming exams on your end, his usually cheshire smile replaced by an unamused frown.

-It distracts you so much from the wonders of life - and takes you away from him of course, how dare the exams do such a thing, how can those professors demand so much smh..

-This is too out of character.

-If he could clap his clapper board to re-do this entire segment of your life and trade it for something better and more easy on your mind and body, he would. But alas..

-He truly does admire your perseverance in the field, even with all the trials and tribulations you passed to get to where you are now. Don’t think for a second that he ever forgot; even the tiniest details cannot escape his memory. If his mind was a palace, he’d have a special room, a library, made just for the memories of you. Everything and anything related to you

-While he is busy himself he still feels the shift in the relationship - aka the lack of time spent together and while he doesn’t like it, he won’t distract you from it unless it is to check up on you or if you really burnt away the day at your books.

-While he is not the best at cooking a good meal for you, he will clean up the house while you’re studying, set the table up and clean after you two eat since this guy is gonna order your favorite meal and drinks and make sure you get some good nutrients and hydration in you. He can make simple things…like tea and coffee and maybe some scrambled eggs but honestly that is not good enough for your current situation. 

-He would make you tea before bed - something he also makes you do on time. He is not against using his memokeeper magic to make you come to bed sooner. At times he doesn’t even have to use that, he’d just move the hands on the big clock to make it seem as if hours passed and you’re just too tired to check your phone until you’re tucked away in his arms in bed. 

-If it is still early in the evening he does love to talk to you to pull you out of your study cave mood. Sometimes he can go on tangents about all the elements needed in preparation of a film or a certain aspect that makes a good character and why, other times he tells you about what happened on set last time, his frustrations and such all while having these very animated movements and gestures with his arms or even legs sometimes. He cannot sit still. But if he sees that his yapping is overwhelming you he knows to tone it down to a softer language and volume, just asking you simple questions if you’d like to cuddle or what you’d like to eat.

-He’d drag you over to him, tenderly by the arm and have you lay your head in his lap, cooing softly at how sweet you look like that while his hand goes to smooth through your hair. He would tease you if you were in any better spirits but he just smiles and watches how your lashes flutter shut, your cheeks lightly dusted with blush.

-Reca is very.. colorful with his words and quite creative, so besides the endless list of pet names, some of which are lowkey ridiculous, he is a pro at giving you encouraging words. He can be quite smug when he sees the effect he has on you

-Would definitely talk to you until you fall asleep too, whispering sweet nothings into the top of your head as his hand runs up and down your back, lulling you to sleep.

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[aventurineswife]

Could I request Welt, Aventurine, Argenti, and Dan Heng learning that their lover made loads of beautiful artwork (paintings, sketches, etc.) of the boys?

“Draw me like one of your French girls”

Summary: Your partner discovers personalized artwork created by you that highlights their unique qualities and emotions. As they react to the paintings, feelings of admiration and affection are exchanged, revealing the beauty and complexity of their personalities.

Tags: Welt x Reader, Argenti x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Artist!Reader, Romance, Emotional Connection, Art as an expression, Self-discovery, Vulnerability.

Warnings: Possible Fluff, Emotional Themes.

A/N: OMFG ITS GRANDPA WELT!! 😍❤️

Welt Yang

Welt returned to his quarters aboard the Astral Express, exhaustion weighing heavily on his shoulders. As he entered, he caught a glimpse of something vibrant against the muted colors of the room. His heart skipped a beat. Scattered across the table were a series of paintings and sketches, each depicting him in various poses, some in deep contemplation and others caught in laughter.

You, sitting on the edge of the bed, smiled sheepishly. “I thought you might like to see how I see you.” you said, glancing at the artwork with a mixture of pride and nervousness.

Welt picked up a sketch of himself wielding his cane, a confident grin on his face, his eyes twinkling with humor. “You’ve captured me beautifully,” he remarked, his voice warm with admiration. “I had no idea I could look this… heroic.”

“Heroic?” you teased, nudging him gently. “You’re more than that. You’re wise, caring, and you always know how to lighten the mood.”

Welt chuckled, his heart swelling with affection. “Well, you certainly know how to brighten my day. This is remarkable.” He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you both admired the artwork together, the bond between you deepening with every stroke of the brush.

Argenti

Argenti stood in the center of the makeshift gallery you had created in the heart of your home. A series of paintings and sketches adorned the walls, each one capturing a different facet of him—his unwavering resolve, his moments of vulnerability, and even the times he lost himself in the music of his lute, his voice echoing like a gentle breeze.

He reached out to touch a painting that depicted him gazing into the distance, the golden light of dawn illuminating his features, a rose cradled lovingly in his hands. “You’ve seen so much of me,” he murmured, turning to you with wide, appreciative eyes. “This is truly breathtaking.”

You smiled, a warmth blooming in your chest. “I sought to reveal your nobility, to show the world how beautiful you are, both in spirit and heart. Your dedication to beauty inspires me, Argenti.”

A noble light shone in his emerald eyes, and a soft blush crept onto his cheeks. “I am honored by your words,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “Yet, it is you who helps me see the beauty that lies within myself.”

“Perhaps,” you replied, stepping closer to him, “but your heart shines brightest, even in the darkest of times. You are a beacon of hope and resilience.”

He smiled, his expression gentle yet filled with determination. “Then let us stand together, side by side, as champions of beauty and honor.” he declared, his voice resonating with conviction. You both admired the artwork, where every stroke and shade told a story of valor and grace—a shared journey of healing and hope, bound by an unbreakable bond that reflected the essence of true knighthood.

Aventurine

Aventurine entered the luxurious apartment he shared with you, his mind racing with the day’s strategies and negotiations. But as he stepped inside, a glimmer of color caught his eye. There, on the walls, were a series of paintings—each one more stunning than the last—depicting him in various poses, from suave and sophisticated to playful and carefree.

“Wow, you’ve been busy.” he said, his voice laced with surprise and delight. His eyes sparkled as he approached a painting of himself lounging with a deck of cards, a devilish grin plastered across his face.

You peeked from behind a canvas, blush creeping across your cheeks. “I wanted to capture every side of you,” you confessed, glancing at the artwork with a mixture of shyness and pride.

“Every side?” Aventurine smirked, leaning against the wall with a playful tilt of his head. “I hope you included my best side—the one where I’m winning at cards.”

You laughed, the sound brightening the room. “You mean the side where you’re charming everyone out of their money?”

“Precisely,” he said, stepping closer to you, the air thick with unspoken affection. “But honestly, this is incredible. You’ve turned my life into art. Thank you.”

As you stood together, the colorful canvases framed your world, a testament to the love you shared—where every brushstroke spoke of adventure, risk, and undeniable charm.

Dan Heng

Dan Heng sat quietly in his corner of the Astral Express, a book in his hands, when you burst in, barely able to contain your excitement. “I have something to show you!” you exclaimed, breathless.

Curiosity piqued, he set the book aside and followed you to a small alcove where a collection of drawings rested on an easel. Each piece showcased him—his focused gaze while on duty, the serene moments of solitude he cherished, and even a candid sketch of him smiling at a passing bird.

“Did you… make these?” he asked, his voice softer than usual, a hint of disbelief coloring his tone.

“I did,” you said, your eyes sparkling. “I wanted to capture the parts of you that you don’t often show. You’re so much more than the stoic guardian everyone sees.”

Dan Heng felt a rare flush of warmth on his cheeks. “You see me,” he said, the words heavy with unguarded emotion. “I don’t often share these parts of myself.

“Maybe it’s time you do,” you encouraged gently, reaching for his hand. “You deserve to be seen.”

In that moment, surrounded by the delicate art that illustrated the depth of his character, Dan Heng felt a sense of acceptance wash over him. With you by his side, he knew that perhaps he could learn to embrace the person he was—past and all—starting with the love reflected in your eyes.

[hearts4werka]

NNN day 3 | Skin Deep Scars

summary: you’ve been born into a rich controlling family, always having to stay on top and never cross the line. You tried to please your mother but never could be enough for your mother’s standards, your father was mostly at work and away at business trips so both of you hardly ever interacted with each other. That’s until you got into an argument about your new friend chris who was the polar opposite of you, what do you think will happen next?

warnings: ANGST, !parental abuse!, arguing (again ik), family issues, swearing, manipulation, controlling mother figure, !burning skin!, slight fighting, crying, !mentions of childhood trauma! And this contains sensitive topics for many (even me) so please I advice to read this with caution and knowingly what you’re consuming.

authors note: day 3 is behind us now, thank yall so much for all of the love on the past fics I seriously rlly appreciate it. Yall can drop some ideas for future days and fics outside of this in my inbox and I’ll be happy to write them, I don’t have my computer with me rn so I’ll make the gradient text when I’m at my computer again, hope y’all enjoy this one

no nut november | masterlist | guestlist

Escalated screams and yells fill the large space of the room, making my ears want to fall off as foul words continue to fall from my mother’s mouth. It’s not the first time my mother has yelled at me for the most stupidest bullshit ever known to mankind and this is one of them, somehow it never turned psychical between us which could be a shocker for some of the others considering how loud she is screaming and shouting that you would think she’d hit me by now or at least threaten to.

“You are bringing such shame to this family! It’s unacceptable!” She shouts, her face contoured with pure anger. I might as well see smoke coming out of her ears by now, rolling my eyes as I feel my own anger rise inside of me at how ridiculous she is being right now. “I bring shame? What about you sleeping around behind dad’s back, huh?” I argue back, not letting her bring me down and standing my ground. She gasps dramatically as if I insulted her whole bloodline, pressing her hand to her chest to make her seem more like a victim.

“Don’t you dare speak of that! This isn’t about my mistakes, it’s about yours!” She attempts to defend her name but fails miserably, thinking if she raises her voice higher than me she’ll have the high ground and take the upper hand in this argument. “You’re the one that’s hanging out with that street rat and even dare to invite him to this house!” My blood boils to high temperatures at her insult targeted towards Chris, well she isn’t very fond of him and his lifestyle or he of how she treats me from all of the stories I’ve previously told him.

Summarizing that thought, their hatred is mutual towards themselves. “Don’t bring him into this, he has nothing to do with this! It was one lower grade, mom!” I yell defensively, the level of my irritation rising with each second of just breathing in the tense air in the room. “That he caused by the influence he has on you! I just want the best for you, honey.” She tries to twist her tone into a softer one but I can feel the fakeness radiating off it the minute it comes past her lips, how pathetic.

“You aren’t convincing anyone with that fake tone, that’s for sure.” I state annoyingly as she attempts to move closer to me but when she sees me backing away she just gives up with trying to convince me into doing anything she wants with the same old method and decides on a newly invented one. “Fine, maybe I wont convince you at least but your father is pretty gullible and he’ll do anything I ask him to do. Even if i feed him a couple lies involving you and that little skank.”

I narrow my eyes at her, not believing her words at first until she shoots me a specific look which informs me she isn’t playing around, raising her eyebrow and slightly dipping her chin just always has her whole bitchy personality written all over her face in that moment. My face normally would drop in color but at this point I didn’t care, she brought Chris into this who has nothing to do with this and shouldn’t be assumed as the cause of my lower grade. It was one of the hardest exams this semester and even when I studied harder than ever and got the highest grade in my class, she still doesn’t appreciate my hard work.

My head decides its the perfect time to bring up the first time I got a lower grade, being only at the age as young as seven she was already pressuring me into being perfect and didn’t even allow me to have a normal childhood only filling me with more work and mental pressure I often was too tired to do anything the next morning after studying all night in hopes to attempt to please my mother but no matter what I did, she never fully appreciated it and always found something bad to point out.

Start of Flashback

I excitedly run into the living room with my test clutched in my head, my dress flowing in the slight breeze coming from the window. A proud smile spread on my face as I reach the living room where mommy resided in sitting on the couch, holding up my paper for her vision to see the teachers red mark saying ‘79/100’ in the corner of the paper. “Look mommy, my teacher said I got the highest grade in my class on the test!” I exclaim proudly, waiting for my applause but was met with silence. Tilting my head to the side to glance at my mommy confused on why she is quiet but she had only a disgusted and an unimpressed look shadowing her face.

She notices my confused expression and finally speaks, turning her head away from me and back at the tv “Honey, that’s not good enough for this family. Study harder next time.” She states without any sympathy in her voice as she goes back to her activity like nothing happened, my eyes slightly start to water. Why am I not good enough for mommy? Why isn’t mommy proud of me and saying nice words like my teacher was? My arms drop down to my sides with the paper still clutched in my small arms.

“What do you mean, mommy?” I ask curiously, my voice becoming slight wobbly as shaky breaths enter an exit past my lips. “My teacher said I did great and even gave me a lollipop!” I add, now my sadness being evident and that’s when mommy looked at me and sees me upset. “Oh baby, you know what I told you about eating too much sweets. And a 76 isn’t high enough for the reputation our family has.” She says in a reassuring voice, seeming as if she wanted the best for me and me being the gullible and innocent child, not realizing she’s manipulating me into doing whatever her heart desired and shaping me into a perfect little toy to play in her game.

“I just want the best for you honey and you know that, I would never do anything to hurt you, ever.” She calmly assured in a soft tone, she walks over to me and wipes my tear-stained cheek with her thumb and looks at me with fake sympathy mixed with fake remorse. “Now go to your room and study for the next test, mommy has to go attend to some things, okay?” I nod my head yes and ran off into my room, the paper flying out of my hand and landing in the floor. My body immediately jumping onto my bed and bury my face into the nearby pillow as I clutch my favorite stuffed animal to my chest…

End of Flashback

I remember crying the rest of the night and thought it was normal and everyone’s mother was pressuring them into being better than every other kid and always perfect to upkeep the family’s ‘perfect’ reputation. Now that I’ve grown up and caught onto my mother’s manipulative acts, letting me have the upper hand in some regards. “You’re pure goddamn evil, I can’t believe you’re trying to scare me with dad out of all people.” I huff, feeling my body become more tense by the second before adding. “Better than one of the guys you cheated on dad with.” After the words leave my mouth, she immediately darts towards me and gets impossibly closer to my face. Glaring at me as if she wanted to strangle the shit out of me.

“I said, don’t you dare bring that into this situation, young lady!” She warns, her voice completely shifting from fake sympathy to rage and evilness. One of her hands raises and she sticks out her finger, getting it in my face as if to try and scare me further but I only laugh in her face. ��One more word out of your mouth and I make one call to your father, singing like a bird to him about all of the things you’ve said to your own mother.” She wipes imaginary tears off from under her eyes, pretending to be upset and hurt as if she’s the victim here. “You’re such an ungrateful brat, I’m surprised we haven’t kicked you out the house yet. You always disappoint us and bring total shame to the family.”

An evil laugh rumbles in her throat, I don’t see her as a loving mother I thought I had. No, I see her as the worst and most controlling mother ever known to mankind and I feel ashamed being in the proximity of her and letting her walk all over me like a doormat. She takes a few steps back and finally puts some distance between our bodies, I sharply inhale the tense air surrounding us as the following words fall from her mouth that I was just waiting for her to speak.

“I regret you were even born, more with every passing minute. Me and your father never wanted a girl, but a boy and at one point were debating to put you in an orphanage or give you away, another decision I regret making.”

Before my mother could say another word, I deliver a slap across her face and throw the words out of her mouth. She looks up at me, completely livid and fet up with this little cat fight between us. “That’s it, you’re getting punished hardly this time.” She angrily exclaims and roughly grasps my arm, dragging me into the kitchen by pure mad force. I try to escape her vice grip but it only makes it tighter, the feeling of pain and a bruise coming in spreads across my whole body as I see her walking towards the stove.

I start to get more desperate to escape, almost beginning to scream for her to stop and don’t do what I know she’s about to do. She did it before when I talked back to her ever and looks like today her strings popped too much, we get to the stove and she ticks it on, the flame blooming to life as she forces my arm above it. “Please, mom dont do this…” I weakly plead as the burning sensation starts to hit my skin, spreading across my whole arm. I cry out in pain and pleads for her to stop, quiet curses falling from my lips as she only glances at me sternly. Tears prick my eyes and burn down my cheeks, she continues to hold my arm over the flames and brings it closer.

My body starts squiring around, my pleads getting more and more desperate as more tears fall from my eyes. “Stop! Please, mom I’m begging you stop!” Shaky breaths fill the air and accompany the growing cries and pleads to my mother. “Stop moving around, you brat! Are you going to still be disobedient towards me now?” She asks mockingly as I think she’s going to burn my skin off, someone pushes her off me and I immediately fall to the ground in pure agony. The uncontrollable cries continuing to fall from my mouth, my eyes landing on the severe burn mark left behind on my arm, my eyes start to burn themselves from the amount of tears filling them at once

“What in the actual fuck is happening here?” I hear a familiar voice yell out as I don’t think about who it could be until they kneel down next to me and I realize it’s Chris, I forgot I invited him over today. I can’t believe he’s seeing me in this state right now, he glances at my arm and immediately grasps it gently into his hands. “Jesus Christ, we need to get you some serious help, cmon we gotta go to the hospital.” He calls out and helps me get up and stand on my feet, rushing me out of the house and looking around for something to quickly get me where I severely need to be right now. “You got a private driver here somewhere?” He questions and I nod negatively, there aren’t any available unless you ask for one beforehand.

‘Fuck, umm- okay then let’s just take.. your car!” He exclaims nervously, pointing towards one of the cars in the driveway. Quickly running over to it and rushing me inside of it, getting into the drivers seat and trying to start the car. When he finally gets a hang of the functioning of the car he quickly presses down on the gas and speeds out of the driveway and towards the hospital…

Guestlist!

| - @sturnioloblues - @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - |

[chaoticrockmusic]

A Taste of Spice

Synopsis; While cooking jambalaya together, Remy and you share playful banter, a little dancing, and a growing connection simmering as warmly as the dish on the stove. With every shared glance and teasing touch, the flirtation turns into something deeper, until one kiss finally seals the promise of what could be.

Warnings; None, enjoy kits! ♡♡♡

Requested by @hulkingharbor

The scent of spices fills the kitchen as Remy guides you through the ingredients for jambalaya, his Cajun accent thicker than usual, adding to the warmth in the room. He's leaning close, too, his arm brushing yours as he reaches for the chopped bell peppers, a lazy grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You keep stirrin’ it like that, chérie, we’re gonna end up with mush,” he teases, eyes gleaming with playful mischief.

Rolling your eyes, you hand him the spoon. “All right, show me, Mr. Expert.”

He takes it, giving the pot a confident stir, his hands moving with an ease you can’t help but admire. “See? It’s all about finesse,” he says, glancing at you. “But I guess that just comes natural to some of us.”

You laugh, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Finesse, huh? Next time, I’ll let you chop the onions with that ‘finesse’ you’re so proud of.”

He chuckles, eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. “Now, now, don’t get jealous, chère. Tell you what—if you chop the next round, I’ll let you have the first taste.”

“Deal,” you say, sliding him a sly smile as you reach for the knife. As you start chopping, you can feel his gaze lingering, warm and appreciative.

When the jambalaya is finally simmering, he takes a spoonful and offers it to you, his gaze softening as he waits for your reaction. You take a taste, savoring the rich, spicy flavor.

“It’s perfect,” you say, smiling. “Must be that ‘finesse’ of yours.”

He raises a brow, pleased. “Or maybe it’s just the company.”

Remy grins, his gaze holding yours for a beat longer than usual. Then he sets the spoon down, leaning against the counter, arms crossed, studying you with an intensity that makes your heart skip.

“Y’know,” he says, his voice low, “this ain’t half as fun when I cook alone.”

You glance up, feeling your cheeks warm. “Is that right? I didn’t know cooking could be so… entertaining.”

He laughs, the sound soft and smooth. “Depends on the company, chérie.” His hand reaches out, a little smudge of flour on his finger, and before you realize it, he dabs it gently on the tip of your nose, his grin widening as he watches your reaction.

“Remy!” You laugh, reaching for a dish towel to swipe at him, but he sidesteps with a fluid ease, his laugh deep and genuine.

“Don’t worry,” he says, still chuckling, “I’ll make it up to you. How ’bout a dance while we wait?” He extends his hand, his fingers warm and inviting, his eyes glinting with that playful, dare-you look.

You hesitate, glancing at the stove where the jambalaya simmers, but something in his gaze is too hard to resist. So, you take his hand, and he pulls you close, his other hand settling comfortably on your waist.

With a practiced grace, Remy leads you in a slow sway across the kitchen, his hand never leaving yours, his eyes locked on yours like you’re the only person in the room. For once, there’s no playful teasing, just a quiet sincerity that catches you off guard.

“You’ve got a good rhythm, chère,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Feels like I could dance with you all night.”

Your breath catches, and before you can think twice, you lean in, your lips brushing his cheek, then lingering at the corner of his mouth. Remy’s breath hitches, his fingers tightening ever so slightly on your waist, his gaze falling to your lips.

For a moment, the kitchen fades away, and it’s just the two of you, close, warm, and wrapped in the quiet promise of something more.

“Hope you like spicy,” he murmurs, his voice a soft rumble against your skin.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” you whisper back, smiling as he finally closes the distance, his kiss as warm and full of sweetness as the jambalaya simmering on the stove.

(I fuckin love Remy)

[sulumuns-dootah]

Hello again! Hope you are having a wonderful day!

If it isn’t much trouble, I would love to request something! Could you please do the Kings + Pyong, Paimon, and Bimet with an MC who is a skilled anime style artist and makes their own characters? Including hentai lmao

I hope this isn’t too much! Idk if I have already sent a request that you haven’t answered yet so if I have you can ignore this one lol

I wish you a Happy Halloween! 🧡🖤🎃

WHB kings (+ Ppyong, Paimon & Bimet) w/ Anime/Manga artist

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

A/N: Hi! Hope you enjoyed your Halloween too and got a lot of tricks and/or treats! ^^

Characters: Satan, Paimon, Ppyong, Mammon, Bimet, Leviathan, Beelzebub, Asmodeus, Belphegor, Lucifer

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Satan for some reason loves posing for you as a reference (even for the NSFW works)

Maybe because you get to appreciate every muscle on his body?

Definitelly would ask you to draw him in your style

I've seen bikers have photos of their s/o stuck to their bike mirrors so I think Satan would stick your drawing of the two of you there

Now, when it comes to your hentai stuff... Are you sure that position between those two characters would work?

There's only one way to find out!

And let's be honest... After Satan tries a certain position out with you, drawing is the last thing on your mind by then

    ༺☆༻

Paimon is your fan no.1!

If you're okay with monetising your art, they'll happily handle your Etsy store with stickers, prints and pins

But if you don't want to, they're fine with that too

They're just happy they have such a talented s/o!

Similarly to Satan, they'll love to pose for your art

Paimon also loves to help you out with color palettes

They do tend to steer you towards pastels, but if that's not your style, they'll try to keep within your color schemes

    ༺☆༻

*gasp* Draw him!

Now draw him in his human from!

And now his human form hanging out with Minhyeok!

Ppyong loves seeing your creations come to life and even offer insight

Oop, Ppyong is off to human world to get some human energy! Could you draw something for Minhyeok?

Don't worry, Ppyong will make sure to save some chocolate for you for your hard work ^^

Oh, but you might wanna hide your NSFW art a secret

Especially if you sometimes draw other demons without their knowledge

Or they'll know very soon since Ppyong can't keep a secret for the life of him

    ༺☆༻

Oh, you're an artist?

Okay, here's a set of some of the most expensive art supplies you might need

Also, here are the keys to your new gallery

If you don't want your art display, that's okay too...

You can just turn the space into your studio

Mammon is happy to have such a talent around him

He's secretly hoping you'll draw him too, but doesn't want to outright ask because he understands you can't force art

Seriously though, if you need anything, he'll do his research and get you the best stuff out there

    ༺☆༻

If you don't make money from your art, then Bimet will make you to

Open commissions, sell merch, auction your stuff off...

Only a idiot wouldn't be selling their art when it's this good

Congratulations, you've got yourself an agent

No discussions!

And go to bed early tonight! You have a showcase tomorrow and it needs to be installed as early as possible!

Also, take a week off for the next Tartaros Con! You'll be having a booth there!

You might be complaining now, but once the money starts rolling in, you'll have Bimet all putty in your hands

At some point, even Mammon might get jealous of how much attention you're getting from Bimet

    ༺☆༻

Just like with anything else, Leviathan will pretend to not be bothered

But on the inside, he's kinda jealous

How dare you have a talent he doesn't?

A great way to make him warm up to you in that regard would be "accidentally" forgeting a study of him somewhere where he finds it

From that point on, he'll be more okay with you and sometimes would even ask to see your creations

Just maybe, ask for permission the next time you want to draw him

What if you accidentally draw him on a day when his outfit isn't as nice or hair doesn't stay as it should?

Asking him also has the added bonus of being able to draw him naked :)

    ༺☆༻

Wait, that means you can draw anything, right?

Okay, how about you draw Bael in a funny outfit?

Hm... How about Princess Leviathan in a tall tower and the brave knight Beel coming to save her?

I know you expected Beel asking you to draw something NSFW, but nope

This man is an endless shitpost generator and there's so much stuff he can come up with before he even gets to anything remotely dirty

R.I.P. to you if those drawings get leaked though

Now you've got some angry kings and nobles banging at your door and that lovable bastard is gone as always

    ༺☆༻

Yes, Asmo loves your NSFW artwork

Still, I can also imagine him also appreciating your SFW works

And it's not even in the 'haha you're so funny, let's fuck' kind of way

I'd kinda like to believe that showing him your art would flip on the 'best dad' switch and he'll want to put it up on a fridge

Oh, but maybe you might wanna practice drawing bodies to help you with different angles and such?

Yep, here it is...

The Asmo we expected will now wear even less of his sheet so you have a nice view of his muscles and body to get a good idea of how they work

Also, good luck showing him your hentai art, because he will suggest more pleasurable positions fro your characters

And yes, he will try to show you in praxis

    ༺☆༻

Oh hey, that's cool! Belphie loves anime!

If he sometimes gets an interesting dream, he'll share it with you and maybe you can base a story on it

Whenever he wakes up, feel free to share what you've created in the meantime

Belphie will give you his honest opinion and what you could improve - if there is anything

If there's a convention happening and he's going there, he'll take you with him and even encourage you to set up a booth

Also, if you draw you two together, he'll have Beleth frame it and put it up on a wall soemwhere where he can see it whenever he wakes up

    ༺☆༻

Proud dad just like Asmo

You have a talent and you should show it

Another king who will give you a space to either turn into a gallery or your very own studio

If you're not against it, Luci would also like you to hold art therapy sessions in the psychiatric ward of the hospital

Oh, also one of your biggest fans becomes Gamigin once he sees you draw Lucifer as he's posing for your studies

You better learn how to draw dragons fast :D

Also, yes, Jjok is gonna be as annoying as Ppyong when it comes to your drawing

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

Writing Pinned Post - Please Read

Hewwo. :3

I am currently on hiatus from fanfiction.

I have a couple ideas I would like to write in the future, but right now my focus is 100% on my original novels. As much as I adore writing fic, it's time I really pivoted to focus on my original stories and making my career dream a reality.

I've been incredibly lucky to have such a large and devoted fic readership, and I hope that some of you will take the chance on my original novels as well!

For the most information about my original writing please go to @lincolnchristie where I post snippets, updates, and so on. I also have a Patreon (remember to sign up on desktop, not mobile!) if you would like to support me and get things like:

bonus chapters

character playlists

chapter-by-chapter postings of the novels I'm currently writing.

My pinned post on @lincolnchristie will have bullet-point updates on my novels, as I have done here on this blog with my fanfic.

Please note I will not discuss any fanfic or fandom-related subjects on that other tumblr.

It is fully devoted to my original work, since I wanted to at least try and be professional and have a blog that was specifically focused on my novels - that way people who follow me just for funsies won't have to deal too much with professional info, and people who want a concentrated place for info on my novels can go there.

I am not quitting fanfiction forever! But my writing the last five or so years has been 90% fanfic while I worked on getting the rest of my life together, and my attempt to write both fanfic and original novels at the same time led to a really bad burnout. So I'm going to take this period to focus on getting my original novels off the ground. I deeply appreciate everyone's support, understanding, and patience!

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Mystery of love

Previously / next chapter

a/n I was not gonna write anymore of this but some of you wanted to read more and fuck do I miss them myself. I will probably go and make a proper series masterlist so it would be easier to navigate through the chapters. Happy reading!🫧

summary: when two lost souls meet at their mutual friend’s party sparks fly, the question is if whatever they feel can actually bloom into something more? But that’s the mystery of love.

warning: toxic ex, arguments

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was one of your college friends' engagement party. As a good friend you were supposed to celebrate her but all you could think of was Noah. The boy with tattoos had managed to slot into your consciousness, taking up a daily spot there. You had stayed up for quite a couple of nights thinking about that almost kiss. About the fact that you had wanted it to happen. Had felt disappointed that it didn’t.

It scrambled with your brain. You had tried to avoid Noah as much as you could but he was relentless. Every day at six sharp he would be parked outside the bookstore waiting for you. “Go away Noah, there’s an Uber on its way to pick me up”, you grunted, pulling your scarf tighter around your neck. “Yes, ma’am that would be me”, he saluted from his car, waving you over. “Don’t you have a job? Anything else to do?”, rolling your eyes you stepped closer. “Oh, I do, one of them is a part-time driver”, he smirked leaning over to open the car door for you.

You always gave in. Blaming his sad and tired eyes. Fearing that your no or a firmer push would send him tumbling down a hill. At least that’s what you told yourself. You weren’t ready to admit that you felt better yourself with him. It all felt better when Noah was around. And while you craved that safety blanket he provided without realizing it, your brain screamed at you for wanting to depend on his comfort.

“Sooo, how are things?”, Emmy pushed a drink over the bar your way, snapping you out of your train of thought. “Things?”, you asked, frowning. She gave you one of those looks before rolling her eyes, “Oh stop it, YN, you can’t fool me, girlie”. Her and Matt. Cause if she wasn’t there to see you and Noah, then Matt happily did a daily report for her. “Are you still going on a trip with Matt?”, you asked, changing the subject. It was a cheap move, but you didn’t want to talk about it. Talking about it made it real. “You’re changing the subject”, Emmy chirped, “that means I’m right”, she wiggled her eyebrows at you.

You scowled at her, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Fine”, you lifted your hands in surrender, “We hung out a couple of times”. You hoped that would cut it but she just looked at you waiting. “And”, she motioned for you to continue. “And nothing, that’s it”, you shrugged. But it wasn’t nothing and deep down you knew it. It had been weird ever since the near kiss you two shared. You had made a big deal out of it. Not to mention that meeting your ex was also the cherry on top. Ex who no doubt had googled who Noah was from the relentless amount of messages he had sent. The times he had come over knocking.

“He’s a sweet guy. I would say pretty distant but he’s a good guy”, Emmy mussed, “We don’t know each other that well, I don’t want to impose but he’s been nothing but kind to me”, she swirled her drink looking at you. “Your judgment is much appreciated”, you tapped her hand in fake appreciation making her push you back slightly as she grunted. A light smile slipped onto your face. Falling immediately when your eyes caught a glimpse of the upper stage. As cold sweat chilled your body. “What’s wrong”, Emmy asked turning back. “Like a fucking rock at the bottom of my shoe”, you grumbled l, turning away in hopes that luck was on your side this time. “I’ll claw his face out”, your best friend pushed the bar stool back, ready to charge over but you clasped her upper arm, “Em, don’t you fucking get close to him, he’s unstable”.

More often than not Noah found himself thinking about the little things you two had done together. It played in a loop in his mind. At night when he couldn’t sleep he would go back, trying to ground himself in the moments he spent with you. Even now, he was supposed to listen to Jolly, which had proven to be harder lately. They were trying to put the cancellation dates in motion. But he had zoned out completely. Feeling the bone-rattling tiredness wash over him.

Dragging himself back to the little coffee not date you two had the other week. “Soo, this place make all the syrups at the house”, you had been referring to a family-owned coffee shop downtown for some time now. The destination was not comfortably reachable after work. Meaning that it would be more of a burden and time waste to go there in rush hours. So you rarely went there. But now Noah was glad that he had chosen to sit in traffic for an hour. The look on your face made it worth it.

You had practically jumped out of the car, reaching for his hand, lacing your fingers through Noah’s and while you didn’t seem to notice, Noah felt as if his whole body was on fire. It felt so right that he could sit down and cry. So he only gripped your hand tighter. “What do you want?”, you looked up at the menu, eyes scanning all the possibilities. But Noah was looking at you, “You pick”, he muttered. “No, Noah…”, you grunted, glancing at him, “Pick, I don’t know what you like, maybe you have allergies or some shit”. But he simply shrugged, before muttering a quick, “I trust you”.

You grunted, shaking your head before smiling at the lady waiting to take your order, “Hey, can I do one cold brew with wiped creme brûlée foam on top and one with your brown sugar almond glaze. Plant-based milk for both. That would be all thank you”, you smiled at her, turning to reach for your purse only to find Noah already paying. “Noah”, you grunted, “That’s…”, but he just chuckled pressing his lips to your temple.

“Okay, tell me what you think”, you two had found a nice table outside, the autumn sun warming your cheeks. Your legs were draped over his thighs, his fingers drawing shapes on your legs as you handed him one drink after the other.

“This one is nice”, Noah tapped at the cup in your hands, “Creme brûlée?”, you raised your eyebrows, taking a sip yourself. “it’s really good, I like them both though”, he hummed in approval. The funny thing was that he couldn’t give two shits for coffee but it seemed like whatever you liked he couldn’t help but enjoy as well. “Well now you know a nice spot for drinks”, you smiled at him, tilting your face towards the sun.

“I’ll know where to get you coffee from”, he corrected you, chuckling when you threw him a death glare he had already learned to love. “Absolutely not”, you protected. “Absolutely yes”, Noah nodded, biting his lip as he watched you. “Noah”, you grunted in warning but he simply shrugged, “I like it when you say my name”, you gasped, pushing his shoulder slightly, “Oh fuck off, you flirt”.

He was smiling to himself when his phone buzzed. Out of second nature, he turned his screen over. Only to tap his screen twice again.

Y/n 🤍: You’re busy?

Y/n 🤍: Sorry, hey

Y/n 🤍: Are you busy?

Noah: Everything’s okay?

He typed out, moving to sit up immediately. A frown creeping onto his face. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his guts.

Y/n 🤍: Can you ask Matt to check his phone.

“Matt”, Noah called out immediately, “Check your phone, dude”. He was up and walking towards the soundproofed booth. Fingers moving over the keyboard.

Noah: What’s going on Yn?

He watched the little three dots pending before disappearing. “Fuck”, Matt grunted, pulling his headset off. “What’s going on?”, Noah leaned against the door, watching his friend scrambling for his things. Matt halted for a moment as if calculating his next words. They never left a meeting unless something absolutely important happened. If Matt was up and ready to go that meant that Noah’s gut feeling was right.

“Yn ex is at the bar they are in”, nine words were enough to make Noah’s brain both shut down and restart again. He turned himself, reaching for his stuff before turning back, “I’m going with you”. “Noah”, Matt shook his head in disapproval. “I’ve met the dick already, let’s go”, Noah motioned for Matt to go to the doors. “Do you maybe want to enlighten us too?”, Jolly called out, arms crossed over his chest. “Man this is some serious shit”, Matt shook his head. This all could get real messy, Noah was more than aware of it. “We’ll talk about it, give me time”, Noah promised before, walking out the studio door.

“I’m not going anywhere with you”, you pulled at Dan’s hand firmly. Trying to get away from him after having to take the heated conversation outside. The last thing you wanted was to make a scene. “Stop fucking fighting”, he gripped tightly, pulling your arm further up, making you wince in pain. “Let go you asshole”, Emmy huffed, throwing her heel at him. Hitting him square in his head. You would have laughed honestly if it wasn’t the fact that his grip only got firmer.

“Back off bitch”, he snarled at Emmy, stepping forward to spook her. “Em”, a voice sounded behind you, you watched as Emmy nearly sagged in relief against the damp brick wall, “Matty”, she called out and even your body washed over with relief. One that was short-lived as Dan’s hand wrapped around your middle pushing you forward, “Come here”, he mused against your ear making your body shiver in disgust.

“Man let her go or I won’t be responsible for my next move”, you felt like crying in that moment when realization finally hit you. Matt didn’t come alone. “Noah…”, you whispered, turning your head to see his angry face. You weren’t sure if you felt happy or embarrassed then. You didn’t want him to see this. Didn’t want him to know about your past poor choices.

“We got back together man, so mind your business”, Dan cupped the side of your face, pressing his lips to your cheek. Your palm found his face then pushed him further back, as you grunted, “We did not”. “Let go or I will break your hand”, Noah stepped closer, he was way taller than Dan. Quite frankly all Dan had was a fancy suit and sparkly watch to hide behind. “Security is on its way Daniel”, Matt called out, Emmy standing behind his back, one of his hands making sure she stayed exactly there, “Your choice man. Walk away or ride in the back of a police car”.

Dan watched you all for a moment. And if not for the back doors creaking you knew that he wouldn’t have let go. “Fuck you”, he spat towards Matt, pushing you forward as he flipped you all off. “Not my first time with you, dick”, Matt threw back at him. Noah’s arms reached for you instantly but you caught his wrist, keeping his body away from yours. “I want to get out of here”, you muttered. “That’s what we will do”, Noah promised, trying to look you over. “I’ve got her”, Emmy muttered, wrapping her arm around your shoulders, and throwing Noah an apologetic look. He wanted to be the one to comfort you but he knew that there was a limit to how far you were willing to let him in and Noah had a feeling that two run-ins with your ex had maxed it out.

He watched you through the rearview mirror the whole way back to their house. Watch that cold mask of indifference slowly replace the genuine fear he had seen moments ago. So he wasn’t all that surprised when you had thrown Emmy a smile after stepping out of the car. “Come on, we’re sharing a room”, Emmy tugged at your hand but you instantly pulled back. “I’m going home, Em’s, you all go inside”, you muttered, squeezing your friend's hand. “Yn, they don’t mind. Tell her Matt”, she turned her pleading eyes on her boyfriend. “I said it more than once, YN, our place is your place”, Matt hummed in approval. Making Noah frown slightly. He had a feeling that Matt knew more. Had been involved in all of this somehow. The question was how deep it ran. “I appreciate it but I rather go home”, you smiled politely. “I’ll drive you back”, Noah cut in, “I was gonna pop into the city anyway”.

You wanted to protest but Emmy cut you off, “At least drive with Noah, I would be much calmer knowing that he dropped you off”, so you simply nodded. Not having enough energy to fight anyone on anything. “You don’t have plans in the city do you”, you asked glancing out of the window once Noah had started his car. “I don’t”, he admitted. You simply nodded at his answer, wrapping your arms around yourself.

And it had been fine. You had managed to keep it wrapped up till he offered to walk you up the stairs. Waiting for you to unlock your door as he leaned against the side wall. Your hand halted as you pushed the key through. It was one look at him. The look of concern in his eyes. It was the silence he left between you too. Not pushing to fill it in. Leaving it there as an option for you. A chance to speak up if you wanted to.

Your shoulders quivered as you clasped your hand over your mouth, trying to silence the sob that slipped past your lips. Noah pushed back from the wall instantly. Offering his hand but not pushing his embrace upon you. Giving you a chance to choose this. Choose him.

You turned to him. Arms reaching for his neck as you pushed your body against his. Feeling a tremble run through your chest. “I’m here”, Noah muttered, “Let it out”. His hands moved up and down your back, as he soothed you. “I’m so scared”, you crocked out, “He…”, you shook your head. Eyes burning from tears. “He’s a dead man walking”, Noah cupped your face, “He will not get to you, I won’t let him”, he nodded and you followed his action. “Stay”, you pleaded, holding onto his upper arms as you pressed your face against his chest. “I wasn’t going anywhere, love, might have napped outside your door if you hadn’t invited me in”, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, “Let’s get you inside. Marsh is probably demanding to be fed anyway”, taking the keys out of your hands Noah, unlocked them, pulling the door open before ushering you inside.

•••••••••••••

@broken0mens @supersquirrel1996

[glorious-spoon]

hi spoon, it's Team! thanks for playing oml I'm excited. OKAY drum roll: 🌃 dark and 🥧 cooking/baking! - @team-118

hi @team-118! a couple of days late, but i hope you enjoy! <3

1.4K words | teen

pre-relationship buck/eddie | mentioned buck/tommy | emotional hurt/comfort | baking

Insomnia Baking [on Ao3]

The kitchen is peaceful late at night. It's dark other than the soft glow of the oven light, which means that Eddie can't actually see the mess that he's going to have to clean up tomorrow morning, and the air smells warm and sweet with the smell of baking.

It's peaceful. With the lights off, in the midnight quiet, he can almost convince himself that Chris is sleeping right down the hall. It's a nice fantasy. At thirteen—fourteen, he reminds himself with a sharply unpleasant pang—Chris is less easy with his affection, but like any growing boy, he's always happy to eat the results of Eddie's insomnia baking. Or he was, when he still lived here.

Eddie's got a dozen chocolate chip cookies in the oven, and another two cooling on the stove top. There's no way he'll be able to eat them all on his own.

He can bring some in to the station. Tomorrow's his day off, but they'll keep fine until his next shift, and he can leave them out there for an appreciative audience instead of spending the next week eating increasingly stale cookies for breakfast by himself.

He heaves the oven mitts onto the counter, then slides down the cabinets until he's sitting on the floor, staring at the stove. The oven door is partially obscured by the distowel he's got hung up on the handle. A Halloween patterned one he forgot to put away—cheerful jack o' lanterns, possibly inherited from Abuela, possibly something he or Buck picked out with Chris. He can't actually remember. Inside the oven, the cookies are starting to spread on the baking pan, the edges of the chocolate chips going soft and melty. The smell of sugar and chocolate and butter fills his nose when he heaves a deep breath, and then another, feeling like he's suffocating. The timer on the stove silently counts down: nine minutes and fifty-seven seconds. Just under ten minutes before Eddie has to find a way to get up off his ass and turn the oven off so he doesn't top off this absolute shitshow of a month by setting his kitchen on fire. He can almost hear Buck ragging on him about it—Come on, Eddie, if you wanted some company you could have just called me.

He digs his phone out of his pocket, stares at the screen, then sets it face down on the floor and stares at the cookies some more.

Then he thuds his head back against the cabinet, picks up the phone again, scrolls through his contacts without looking, and hits the call button.

Buck picks up fast enough to make him feel gratified, and also kind of guilty, given the hour. "E-eddie?"

"I'm not having a breakdown," Eddie says, to the note of fear in Buck's voice. Or if he is, it's not a serious one. "Do you want to come over and eat some cookies?"

"I—is that supposed to be a metaphor?"

"For what? No," he adds, before Buck can answer. "It's not a metaphor."

"You were stress baking again," Buck concludes, sounding calmer. There's some shuffling on the other end of the line. Eddie wonders idly if Tommy is staying the night, and then wonders how much he actually cares about interrupting them if that's the case.

The answer is, less than he probably should.

"I was stress baking again," Eddie confirms. "How about it?"

Any normal person would say no. It's well past midnight, and while they don't exactly keep regular hours, he knows he woke Buck up just now. But it's not at all a surprise when Buck says, "Yeah, of course, be there in, like…" his voice fades and dips for a moment, like he's holding the phone away from his face. "Uh, half an hour?"

It's closer to forty-five minutes, which means that Eddie has time to pry himself off the kitchen floor and take the cookies out of the oven and try to find room for them on the cooling racks. He turns the stove off and starts cleaning up after himself one mindless, methodical step at a time, which is pretty much the same way he's gotten through every task in front of him since May. Flour and sugar and chocolate chips in the pantry, eggs and butter in the fridge, mixing bowls and spoons in the dishwasher along with the utensils for his solitary take-out dinner. He turns it on to run even though it's not even half full and it'd probably be less of a hassle to wash everything by hand.

Eddie wonders again if Tommy is there. What explanation Buck is giving him, if so. He doesn't ask. "Okay. Half an hour."

-

The noise makes the house feel less empty.

It doesn't take long. When he's finished, he stands in the clean, empty kitchen, palms braced against the edge of the sink, and stares out into the night, the vague smear of his reflection in the dark glass.

There are lights on in the house across the street. Soft ones, from one of the bedroom windows. They have a toddler, Eddie knows—he sees them outside sometimes, in passing. A little girl with a dark cloud of hair just like her mom's. She probably gets nightmares. It's common for that age, or at least that's what he hears. He missed most of it with Chris, and even during those rare weeks when he was home, Shannon was the one their son asked for in the middle of the night.

Headlights sweep across the lawn, then come to a stop in his driveway. Eddie stays where he is and watches Buck climb out, lock the Jeep, cross over to the sidewalk, and vanish out of sight around the corner of the house. A moment later, the lock clicks open.

Buck doesn't call out or even turn on any lights. Eddie listens to him pull his shoes off, the sound of his sock-clad feet on the floor as he moves down the dark hallway.

"Hey," he says quietly from the doorway of the kitchen, and Eddie turns.

He's wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, his hair flattened on one side. The hives are pretty much gone, other than faint red blotches along his cheek and jaw, and his eyes are soft.

"You didn't actually have to haul yourself all the way over here at one AM," Eddie says, to cover for the near-frantic relief spreading through him. He sort of wants to rush across the kitchen and collide with the warm solidity of Buck's body, maybe burrow into his skin, but he doesn't move.

Buck scoffs and steps into the kitchen, scruffing a hand through his hair. "I was promised cookies."

"Well," Eddie says, and waves a hand at the cooling racks. He'll need to dig out some containers at some point.

"Sweet," Buck says, and crosses over to the stove to grab three off the top of the stack. He takes an enormous bite, licks half-melted chocolate off of his thumb, and grins at Eddie. "They're good."

"Thanks."

"Did you have any yet?"

"No." Eddie gestures vaguely at the kitchen, the quietly churning dishwasher. "I was cleaning up."

Buck hums under his breath and takes another bite of his cookie, watching Eddie with that soft, thoughtful look that's more perceptive than most people give him credit for. Then he holds out the cookies in his hand. "Here."

"I don't—"

"Eddie."

"Okay," Eddie sighs. He takes one of the cookies and bites into it.

It is good. He takes another bite, swallows hard around the lump in his throat, and pretends he doesn't know Buck is watching him while he eats the entire thing.

"Want to talk about it?" Buck asks once he's done, quiet. When Eddie shakes his head, he doesn't push it, though. "Okay. I figure if we finish off another half dozen of these, we can probably fit all the rest in one of those big Tupperware containers under the sink."

Eddie laughs roughly, smears the back of his hand across his mouth. "Why do you think I asked you over?"

"Uh huh," Buck scoffs. He eats another cookie in three large bites, which is objectively gross and makes Eddie feel stupidly fond anyway. "Well, always happy to help."

"Yeah," Eddie says, and he knows there's too much showing in his voice, in his face, he knows that, but he can't help it. It's one in the morning and Buck is in his kitchen, because he asked, and his house is still too empty, the vacant bedroom down the hall a hollow ache that he can feel in his chest—but. It feels easier—a little easier—to breathe now. "Yeah, I know you are."